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diff --git a/33624.txt b/33624.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..4528735 --- /dev/null +++ b/33624.txt @@ -0,0 +1,18039 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Library of the World's Best Literature, +Ancient and Modern, Vol. 16, 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: Library of the World's Best Literature, Ancient and Modern, Vol. 16 + +Author: Various + +Editor: Charles Dudley Warner + +Release Date: September 3, 2010 [EBook #33624] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WORLD'S BEST LITERATURE, VOL. 16 *** + + + + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + + LIBRARY OF THE + WORLD'S BEST LITERATURE + ANCIENT AND MODERN + + + CHARLES DUDLEY WARNER + + EDITOR + + + HAMILTON WRIGHT MABIE LUCIA GILBERT RUNKLE + GEORGE HENRY WARNER + + ASSOCIATE EDITORS + + + Connoisseur Edition + + VOL. XVI. + + + NEW YORK + THE INTERNATIONAL SOCIETY + + + + + Connoisseur Edition + + LIMITED TO FIVE HUNDRED COPIES IN HALF RUSSIA + + _No_. .......... + + + Copyright, 1896, by + R. S. PEALE AND J. A. HILL + _All rights reserved_ + + + + + THE ADVISORY COUNCIL + + + CRAWFORD H. TOY, A. M., LL. D., + Professor of Hebrew, HARVARD UNIVERSITY, Cambridge, Mass. + + THOMAS R. LOUNSBURY, LL. D., L. H. D., + Professor of English in the Sheffield Scientific School of + YALE UNIVERSITY, New Haven, Conn. + + WILLIAM M. SLOANE, PH. D., L. H. D., + Professor of History and Political Science, + PRINCETON UNIVERSITY, Princeton, N. J. + + BRANDER MATTHEWS, A. M., LL. B., + Professor of Literature, COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY, New York City. + + JAMES B. ANGELL, LL. D., + President of the UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN, Ann Arbor, Mich. + + WILLARD FISKE, A. M., PH. D., + Late Professor of the Germanic and Scandinavian Languages + and Literatures, CORNELL UNIVERSITY, Ithaca, N. Y. + + EDWARD S. HOLDEN, A. M., LL. D., + Director of the Lick Observatory, and Astronomer, + UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA, Berkeley, Cal. + + ALCEE FORTIER, LIT. D., + Professor of the Romance Languages, + TULANE UNIVERSITY, New Orleans, La. + + WILLIAM P. TRENT, M. A., + Dean of the Department of Arts and Sciences, and Professor of + English and History, UNIVERSITY OF THE SOUTH, Sewanee, Tenn. + + PAUL SHOREY, PH. D., + Professor of Greek and Latin Literature, + UNIVERSITY OF CHICAGO, Chicago, Ill. + + WILLIAM T. HARRIS, LL. D., + United States Commissioner of Education, + BUREAU OF EDUCATION, Washington, D. C. + + MAURICE FRANCIS EGAN, A. M., LL. D., + Professor of Literature in the + CATHOLIC UNIVERSITY OF AMERICA, Washington, D. C. + + + + + TABLE OF CONTENTS + + VOL. XVI + + + LIVED PAGE + AULUS GELLIUS Second Century A.D. 6253 + From 'Attic Nights': Origin, and Plan of the Book; + The Vestal Virgins; The Secrets of the Senate; + Plutarch and his Slave; Discussion on One of + Solon's Laws; The Nature of Sight; Earliest + Libraries; Realistic Acting; The Athlete's End + + + GESTA ROMANORUM 6261 + Theodosius the Emperoure + Moralite + Ancelmus the Emperour + Moralite + How an Anchoress was Tempted by the Devil + + + EDWARD GIBBON 1737-1794 6271 + BY W. E. H. LECKY + Zenobia + Foundation of Constantinople + Character of Constantine + Death of Julian + Fall of Rome + Silk + Mahomet's Death and Character + The Alexandrian Library + Final Ruin of Rome + All from the 'Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire' + + + WILLIAM SCHWENCK GILBERT 1836- 6333 + Captain Reece + The Yarn of the Nancy Bell + The Bishop of Rum-ti-foo + Gentle Alice Brown + The Captain and the Mermaids + All from the 'Bab Ballads' + + + RICHARD WATSON GILDER 1844- 6347 + Two Songs from 'The New Day' + "Rose-Dark the Solemn Sunset" + The Celestial Passion + Non Sine Dolore + On the Life Mask of Abraham Lincoln + From 'The Great Remembrance' + + + GIUSEPPE GIUSTI 1809-1850 6355 + Lullaby ('Gingillino') + The Steam Guillotine + + + WILLIAM EWART GLADSTONE 1809- 6359 + Macaulay ('Gleanings of Past Years') + + + EDWIN LAWRENCE GODKIN 1831- 6373 + The Duty of Criticism in a Democracy ('Problems of + Modern Democracy') + + + GOETHE 1749-1832 6385 + BY EDWARD DOWDEN + From 'Faust,' Shelley's Translation + Scenes from 'Faust', Bayard Taylor's Translation + Mignon's Love and Longing ('Wilhelm Meister's Apprenticeship') + Wilhelm Meister's Introduction to Shakespeare (same) + Wilhelm Meister's Analysis of Hamlet (same) + The Indenture (same) + The Harper's Songs (same) + Mignon's Song (same) + Philina's Song (same) + Prometheus + Wanderer's Night Songs + The Elfin-King + From 'The Wanderer's Storm Song' + The Godlike + Solitude + Ergo Bibamus! + Alexis and Dora + Maxims and Reflections + Nature + + + NIKOLAI VASILIEVITCH GOGOL 1809-1852 6455 + BY ISABEL F. HAPGOOD + From 'The Inspector' + Old-Fashioned Gentry ('Mirgorod') + + + CARLO GOLDONI 1707-1793 6475 + BY WILLIAM CRANSTON LAWTON + First Love and Parting ('Memoirs of Carlo Goldoni') + The Origin of Masks in the Italian Comedy (same) + Purists and Pedantry (same) + A Poet's Old Age (same) + The Cafe + + + MEIR AARON GOLDSCHMIDT 1819-1887 6493 + Assar and Mirjam ('Love Stories from Many Countries') + + + OLIVER GOLDSMITH 1728-1774 6501 + BY CHARLES MILLS GAYLEY + The Vicar's Family Become Ambitious ('The Vicar of Wakefield') + New Misfortunes: But Offenses are Easily Pardoned Where + There is Love at Bottom (same) + Pictures from 'The Deserted Village' + Contrasted National Types ('The Traveller') + + + IVAN ALEKSANDROVITCH GONCHAROF 1812- 6533 + BY NATHAN HASKELL DOLE + Oblomof + + + THE BROTHERS DE GONCOURT 6549 + Edmond 1822-1896 + Jules 1830-1870 + Two Famous Men ('Journal of the De Goncourts') + The Suicide ('Sister Philomene') + The Awakening ('Renee Mauperin') + + + EDMUND GOSSE 1849- 6565 + February in Rome + Desiderium + Lying in the Grass + + + RUDOLF VON GOTTSCHALL 1823- 6571 + Heinrich Heine ('Portraits and Studies') + + + JOHN GOWER 1325?-1408 6579 + Petronella ('Confessio Amantis') + + + ULYSSES S. GRANT 1822-1885 6593 + BY HAMLIN GARLAND + Early Life ('Personal Memoirs of U. S. Grant') + Grant's Courtship (same) + A Texan Experience (same) + The Surrender of General Lee (same) + + + HENRY GRATTAN 1746-1820 6615 + On the Character of Chatham + Of the Injustice of Disqualification of Catholics + (Speech in Parliament) + On the Downfall of Bonaparte (Speech in Parliament) + + + THOMAS GRAY 1716-1771 6623 + BY GEORGE PARSONS LATHROP + Elegy Written in a Country Church-yard + Ode on the Spring + On a Distant Prospect of Eton College + The Bard + + + THE GREEK ANTHOLOGY 6637 + BY TALCOTT WILLIAMS + On the Athenian Dead at Plataea (Simonides); On the + Lacedaemonian Dead at Plataea (Simonides); On a + Sleeping Satyr (Plato); A Poet's Epitaph (Simmias + of Thebes); Worship in Spring (Theaetetus); Spring + on the Coast (Leonidas of Tarentum); A Young Hero's + Epitaph (Dioscorides); Love (Posidippus); Sorrow's + Barren Grave (Heracleitus); To a Coy Maiden + (Asclepiades); The Emptied Quiver (Mnesalcus); + The Tale of Troy (Alpheus); Heaven Hath its Stars + (Marcus Argentarius); Pan of the Sea-Cliff + (Archias); Anacreon's Grave (Antipater of Sidon); + Rest at Noon (Meleager); "In the Spring a Young + Man's Fancy" (Meleager); Meleager's Own Epitaph + (Meleager); Epilogue (Philodemus); Doctor and + Divinity (Nicarchus); Love's Immortality (Strato); + As the Flowers of the Field (Strato); Summer + Sailing (Antiphilus); The Great Mysteries + (Crinagoras); To Priapus of the Shore (Maecius); The + Common Lot (Ammianus); "To-morrow, and To-morrow" + (Macedonius); The Palace Garden (Arabius); The + Young Wife (Julianus AEgyptius); A Nameless Grave + (Paulus Silentiarius); Resignation (Joannes + Barbucallus); The House of the Righteous + (Macedonius); Love's Ferriage (Agathias); On a + Fowler (Isidorus) Anonymous: Youth and Riches; The + Singing Reed; First Love again Remembered; Slave + and Philosopher; Good-by to Childhood; Wishing; + Hope and Experience; The Service of God; The Pure + in Heart; The Water of Purity; Rose and Thorn; + A Life's Wandering + + + + + FULL-PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS + + + VOLUME XVI + + PAGE + The Alexander Romance (Colored Plate) Frontispiece + Gibbon (Portrait) 6271 + Ruined Rome (Photograph) 6316 + Gladstone (Portrait) 6359 + Goethe (Portrait) 6385 + "Faust and Margaret in Prison" (Photogravure) 6408 + "The Bride's Toilet" (Photogravure) 6466 + Goldoni (Portrait) 6475 + Goldsmith (Portrait) 6501 + Grant (Portrait) 6593 + Gray (Portrait) 6623 + "Stoke Poges Church and Churchyard" (Photogravure) 6626 + + + VIGNETTE PORTRAITS + + Gilbert Goncharof + Gilder De Goncourt + Giusti Gottschall + Godkin Gower + Gogol Grattan + Goldschmidt + + + + +AULUS GELLIUS + +(SECOND CENTURY A. D.) + + +Perhaps Gellius's 'Attic Nights' may claim especial mention here, as one +of the earliest extant forerunners of this 'Library.' In the original +preface (given first among the citations), Gellius explains very clearly +the origin and scope of his work. It is not, however, a mere scrap-book. +There is original matter in many chapters. In particular, an ethical or +philosophic excerpt has often been framed in a little scene,--doubtless +imaginary,--and cast in the form of a dialogue. We get, even, pleasant +glimpses of autobiography from time to time. The author is not, however, +a deep or forceful character, on the whole. His heart is mostly set on +trifles. + +Yet Gellius has been an assiduous student, both in Greece and Italy; and +his book gives us an agreeable, probably an adequate, view of the fields +which are included in the general culture of his time. Despite its +title, the work is chiefly Roman. In history, biography, antiquities, +grammar, literary criticism, his materials and authors are prevailingly +Latin. He is perhaps most widely known and quoted on early Roman life +and usages. Thus, one of his chapters gives a mass of curious +information as to the choice of the Vestal Virgins. We are also largely +indebted to him for citations from lost authors. We have already quoted +under Ennius the sketch, in eighteen hexameters, of a scholar-soldier, +believed to be a genial self-portraiture. These lines are the finest +specimen we have of the 'Annales.' Similarly, under Cato, we have quoted +the chief fragment of the great Censor's Roman history. For both these +treasures we must thank Gellius. Indeed, throughout the wide fields of +Roman antiquities, history of literature, grammar, etc., we have to +depend chiefly upon various late Latin scrap-books and compilations, +most of which are not even made up at first hand from creative classical +authors. To Gellius, also, the imposing array of writers so constantly +named by him was evidently known chiefly through compendiums and +handbooks. It is suspicious, for instance, that he hardly quotes a poet +within a century of his own time. Repetitions, contradictions, etc., are +numerous. + +Despite its twenty "books" and nearly four hundred (short) chapters, the +work is not only light and readable for the most part, but quite modest +in total bulk: five hundred and fifty pages in the small page and +generous type of Hertz's Teubner text. There is an English translation +by Rev. W. Beloe, first printed in 1795, from which we quote below. +Professor Nettleship's (in his 'Essays in Latin Literature') has no +literary quality, but gives a careful analysis of Gellius's subjects and +probable sources. There is a revival of interest in this author in +recent years. We decidedly recommend Hertz's attractive volume to any +Latin student who wishes to browse beyond the narrow classical limits. + + + +FROM 'ATTIC NIGHTS' + + +ORIGIN AND PLAN OF THE BOOK + +More pleasing works than the present may certainly be found: my object +in writing this was to provide my children, as well as myself, with that +kind of amusement in which they might properly relax and indulge +themselves at the intervals from more important business. I have +preserved the same accidental arrangement which I had before used in +making the collection. Whatever book came into my hand, whether it was +Greek or Latin, or whatever I heard that was either worthy of being +recorded or agreeable to my fancy, I wrote down without distinction and +without order. These things I treasured up to aid my memory, as it were +by a store-house of learning; so that when I wanted to refer to any +particular circumstance or word which I had at the moment forgotten, and +the books from which they were taken happened not to be at hand, I could +easily find and apply it. Thus the same irregularity will appear in +these commentaries as existed in the original annotations, which were +concisely written down without any method or arrangement in the course +of what I at different times had heard or read. As these observations at +first constituted my business and my amusement through many long winter +nights which I spent in Attica, I have given them the name of 'Attic +Nights.' ... It is an old proverb, "A jay has no concern with music, nor +a hog with perfumes:" but that the ill-humor and invidiousness of +certain ill-taught people may be still more exasperated, I shall borrow +a few verses from a chorus of Aristophanes; and what he, a man of most +exquisite humor, proposed as a law to the spectators of his play, I also +recommend to the readers of this volume, that the vulgar and unhallowed +herd, who are averse to the sports of the Muses, may not touch nor even +approach it. The verses are these:-- + + Silent be they, and far from hence remove, + By scenes like ours not likely to improve, + Who never paid the honored Muse her rights, + Who senseless live in wild, impure delights; + I bid them once, I bid them twice begone, + I bid them thrice, in still a louder tone: + Far hence depart, whilst ye with dance and song + Our solemn feast, our tuneful nights prolong. + + +THE VESTAL VIRGINS + +The writers on the subject of taking a Vestal Virgin, of whom Labeo +Antistius is the most elaborate, have asserted that no one could be +taken who was less than six or more than ten years old. Neither could +she be taken unless both her father and mother were alive, if she had +any defect of voice or hearing, or indeed any personal blemish, or if +she herself or father had been made free; or if under the protection of +her grandfather, her father being alive; if one or both of her parents +were in actual servitude, or employed in mean occupations. She whose +sister was in this character might plead exemption, as might she whose +father was flamen, augur, one of the fifteen who had care of the sacred +books, or one of the seventeen who regulated the sacred feasts, or a +priest of Mars. Exemption was also granted to her who was betrothed to a +pontiff, and to the daughter of the sacred trumpeter. Capito Ateius has +also observed that the daughter of a man was ineligible who had no +establishment in Italy, and that his daughter might be excused who had +three children. But as soon as a Vestal Virgin is taken, conducted to +the vestibule of Vesta, and delivered to the pontiffs, she is from that +moment removed from her father's authority, without any form of +emancipation or loss of rank, and has also the right of making her will. +No more ancient records remain concerning the form and ceremony of +taking a virgin, except that the first virgin was taken by King Numa. +But we find a Papian law which provides that at the will of the supreme +pontiff twenty virgins should be chosen from the people; that these +should draw lots in the public assembly; and that the supreme pontiff +might take her whose lot it was, to become the servant of Vesta. But +this drawing of lots by the Papian law does not now seem necessary; for +if any person of ingenuous birth goes to the pontiff and offers his +daughter for this ministry, if she may be accepted without any violation +of what the ceremonies of religion enjoin, the Senate dispenses with the +Papian law. Moreover, a virgin is said to be taken, because she is taken +by the hand of the high priest from that parent under whose authority +she is, and led away as a captive in war. In the first book of Fabius +Pictor, we have the form of words which the supreme pontiff is to repeat +when he takes a virgin. It is this:-- + +"I take thee, beloved, as a priestess of Vesta, to perform religious +service, to discharge those duties with respect to the whole body of the +Roman people which the law most wisely requires of a priestess of +Vesta." + +It is also said in those commentaries of Labeo which he wrote on the +Twelve Tables:-- + +"No Vestal Virgin can be heiress to any intestate person of either sex. +Such effects are said to belong to the public. It is inquired by what +right this is done?" When taken she is called _amata_, or beloved, by +the high priest; because Amata is said to have been the name of her who +was first taken. + + +THE SECRETS OF THE SENATE + +It was formerly usual for the senators of Rome to enter the Senate-house +accompanied by their sons who had taken the praetexta. When something of +superior importance was discussed in the Senate, and the further +consideration adjourned to the day following, it was resolved that no +one should divulge the subject of their debates till it should be +formally decreed. The mother of the young Papirius, who had accompanied +his father to the Senate-house, inquired of her son what the senators +had been doing. The youth replied that he had been enjoined silence, and +was not at liberty to say. The woman became more anxious to know; the +secretness of the thing, and the silence of the youth, did but inflame +her curiosity. She therefore urged him with more vehement earnestness. +The young man, on the importunity of his mother, determined on a +humorous and pleasant fallacy: he said it was discussed in the Senate, +which would be most beneficial to the State--for one man to have two +wives, or for one woman to have two husbands. As soon as she heard this +she was much agitated, and leaving her house in great trepidation, went +to tell the other matrons what she had learned. The next day a troop of +matrons went to the Senate-house, and with tears and entreaties implored +that one woman might be suffered to have two husbands, rather than one +man to have two wives. The senators on entering the house were +astonished, and wondered what this intemperate proceeding of the women, +and their petition, could mean. The young Papirius, advancing to the +midst of the Senate, explained the pressing importunity of his mother, +his answer, and the matter as it was. The Senate, delighted with the +honor and ingenuity of the youth, made a decree that from that time no +youth should be suffered to enter the Senate with his father, this +Papirius alone excepted. + + +PLUTARCH AND HIS SLAVE + +Plutarch once ordered a slave, who was an impudent and worthless fellow, +but who had paid some attention to books and philosophical disputations, +to be stripped (I know not for what fault) and whipped. As soon as his +punishment began, he averred that he did not deserve to be beaten; that +he had been guilty of no offense or crime. As they went on whipping him, +he called out louder, not with any cry of suffering or complaint, but +gravely reproaching his master. Such behavior, he said, was unworthy of +Plutarch; that anger disgraced a philosopher; that he had often disputed +on the mischiefs of anger; that he had written a very excellent book +about not giving place to anger; but that whatever he had said in that +book was now contradicted by the furious and ungovernable anger with +which he had now ordered him to be severely beaten. Plutarch then +replied with deliberate calmness:--"But why, rascal, do I now seem to +you to be in anger? Is it from my countenance, my voice, my color, or my +words, that you conceive me to be angry? I cannot think that my eyes +betray any ferocity, nor is my countenance disturbed or my voice +boisterous; neither do I foam at the mouth, nor are my cheeks red; nor +do I say anything indecent or to be repented of; nor do I tremble or +seem greatly agitated. These, though you may not know it, are the usual +signs of anger." Then, turning to the person who was whipping him: +"Whilst this man and I," said he, "are disputing, do you go on with your +employment." + + +DISCUSSION ON ONE OF SOLON'S LAWS + +In those very ancient laws of Solon which were inscribed at Athens on +wooden tables, and which, from veneration to him, the Athenians, to +render eternal, had sanctioned with punishments and religious oaths, +Aristotle relates there was one to this effect: If in any tumultuous +dissension a sedition should ensue, and the people divide themselves +into two parties, and from this irritation of their minds both sides +should take arms and fight; then he who in this unfortunate period of +civil discord should join himself to neither party, but should +individually withdraw himself from the common calamity of the city, +should be deprived of his house, his family and fortunes, and be driven +into exile from his country. When I had read this law of Solon, who was +eminent for his wisdom, I was at first impressed with great +astonishment, wondering for what reason he should think those men +deserving of punishment who withdrew themselves from sedition and a +civil war. Then a person who had profoundly and carefully examined the +use and purport of this law, affirmed that it was calculated not to +increase but terminate sedition; and indeed it really is so, for if all +the more respectable, who were at first unable to check sedition, and +could not overawe the divided and infatuated people, join themselves to +one part or other, it will happen that when they are divided on both +sides, and each party begins to be ruled and moderated by them, as men +of superior influence, harmony will by their means be sooner restored +and confirmed; for whilst they regulate and temper their own parties +respectively, they would rather see their opponents conciliated than +destroyed. Favorinus the philosopher was of opinion that the same thing +ought to be done in the disputes of brothers and of friends: that they +who are benevolently inclined to both sides, but have little influence +in restoring harmony, from being considered as doubtful friends, should +decidedly take one part or other; by which act they will obtain more +effectual power in restoring harmony to both. At present, says he, the +friends of both think they do well by leaving and deserting both, thus +giving them up to malignant or sordid lawyers, who inflame their +resentments and disputes from animosity or from avarice. + + +THE NATURE OF SIGHT + +I have remarked various opinions among philosophers concerning the +causes of sight and the nature of vision. The Stoics affirm the causes +of sight to be an emission of radii from the eyes against those things +which are capable of being seen, with an expansion at the same time of +the air. But Epicurus thinks that there proceed from all bodies certain +images of the bodies themselves, and that these impress themselves upon +the eyes, and that thence arises the sense of sight. Plato is of opinion +that a species of fire and light issues from the eyes, and that this, +being united and continued either with the light of the sun or the light +of some other fire, by its own, added to the external force, enables us +to see whatever it meets and illuminates. + +But on these things it is not worth while to trifle further; and I recur +to an opinion of the Neoptolemus of Ennius, whom I have before +mentioned: he thinks that we should taste of philosophy, but not plunge +in it over head and ears. + + +EARLIEST LIBRARIES + +Pisistratus the tyrant is said to have been the first who supplied books +of the liberal sciences at Athens for public use. Afterwards the +Athenians themselves with great care and pains increased their number; +but all this multitude of books, Xerxes, when he obtained possession of +Athens and burned the whole of the city except the citadel, seized and +carried away to Persia. But King Seleucus, who was called Nicanor, many +years afterwards, was careful that all of them should be again carried +back to Athens. + +A prodigious number of books were in succeeding times collected by the +Ptolemies in Egypt, to the amount of near seven hundred thousand +volumes. But in the first Alexandrine war the whole library, during the +plunder of the city, was destroyed by fire; not by any concerted design, +but accidentally by the auxiliary soldiers. + + +REALISTIC ACTING + +There was an actor in Greece of great celebrity, superior to the rest in +the grace and harmony of his voice and action. His name, it is said, was +Polus, and he acted in the tragedies of the more eminent poets, with +great knowledge and accuracy. This Polus lost by death his only and +beloved son. When he had sufficiently indulged his natural grief, he +returned to his employment. Being at this time to act the 'Electra' of +Sophocles at Athens, it was his part to carry an urn as containing the +bones of Orestes. The argument of the fable is so imagined that Electra, +who is presumed to carry the relics of her brother, laments and +commiserates his end, who is believed to have died a violent death. +Polus, therefore, clad in the mourning habit of Electra, took from the +tomb the bones and urn of his son, and as if embracing Orestes, filled +the place, not with the image and imitation, but with the sighs and +lamentations of unfeigned sorrow. Therefore, when a fable seemed to be +represented, real grief was displayed. + + +THE ATHLETE'S END + +Milo of Crotona, a celebrated wrestler, who as is recorded was crowned +in the fiftieth Olympiad, met with a lamentable and extraordinary death. +When, now an old man, he had desisted from his athletic art and was +journeying alone in the woody parts of Italy, he saw an oak very near +the roadside, gaping in the middle of the trunk, with its branches +extended: willing, I suppose, to try what strength he had left, he put +his fingers into the fissure of the tree, and attempted to pluck aside +and separate the oak, and did actually tear and divide it in the middle; +but when the oak was thus split in two, and he relaxed his hold as +having accomplished his intention, upon a cessation of the force it +returned to its natural position, and left the man, when it united, with +his hands confined, to be torn by wild beasts. + + Translation of Rev. W. Beloe. + + + + +GESTA ROMANORUM + + +What are the 'Gesta Romanorum'? The most curious and interesting of all +collections of popular tales. Negatively, one thing they are not: that +is, they are not _Deeds of the Romans_, the acts of the heirs of the +Caesars. All such allusions are the purest fantasy. The great "citee of +Rome," and some oddly dubbed emperor thereof, indeed the entire +background, are in truth as unhistorical and imaginary as the tale +itself. + +Such stories are very old. So far back did they spring that it would be +idle to conjecture their origin. In the centuries long before Caxton, +the centuries before manuscript-writing filled up the leisure hours of +the monks, the 'Gesta,' both in the Orient and in the Occident, were +brought forth. Plain, direct, and unvarnished, they are the form in +which the men of ideas of those rude times approached and entertained, +by accounts of human joy and woe, their brother men of action. Every +race of historic importance, from the eastern Turanians to the western +Celts, has produced such legends. Sometimes they delight the lover of +folk-lore; sometimes they belong to the Dryasdust antiquarian. But our +'Gesta,' with their directness and naivete, with their occasional beauty +of diction and fine touches of sympathy and imagination,--even with +their Northern lack of grace,--are properly a part of literature. In +these 'Deeds' is found the plot or ground-plan of such master works as +'King Lear' and the 'Merchant of Venice,' and the first cast of material +refined by Chaucer, Gower, Lydgate, Schiller, and other writers. + +Among the people in mediaeval times such tales evidently passed from +mouth to mouth. They were the common food of fancy and delight to our +forefathers, as they gathered round the fire in stormy weather. Their +recital enlivened the women's unnumbered hours of spinning, weaving, and +embroidery. As the short days of the year came on, there must have been +calls for 'The Knights of Baldak and Lombardy,' 'The Three Caskets,' or +'The White and Black Daughters,' as nowadays we go to our book-shelves +for the stories that the race still loves, and ungraciously enjoy the +silent telling. + +Such folk-stories as those in the 'Gesta' are in the main made of, must +have passed from district to district and even from nation to nation, by +many channels,--chief among them the constant wanderings of monks and +minstrels,--becoming the common heritage of many peoples, and passing +from secular to sacerdotal use. The mediaeval Church, with the acuteness +that characterized it, seized on the pretty tales, and adding to them +the moralizing which a crude system of ethics enjoined, carried its +spoils to the pulpit. Even the fables of pagan AEsop were thus employed. + +In the twelfth century the ecclesiastical forces were appropriating to +their use whatever secular rights and possessions came within their +grasp. A common ardor permitted and sustained this aggrandizement, and +the devotion that founded and swelled the mendicant orders of Francis +and Dominic, and led the populace to carry with prayers and +psalm-singing the stones of which great cathedrals were built, readily +gave their hearth-tales to illustrate texts and inculcate doctrines. A +habit of interpreting moral and religious precepts by allegory led to +the far-fetched, sometimes droll, and always naive "moralities" which +commonly follow each one of the 'Gesta.' The more popular the tale, the +more easily it held the attention; and the priests with telling +directness brought home the moral to the simple-minded. The innocent +joys and sad offenses of humanity interpreted the Church's whole system +of theology, and the stories, committed to writing by the priests, were +thus preserved. + +The secular tales must have been used in the pulpit for some time before +their systematic collection was undertaken. The zeal for compiling +probably reached its height in the age of Pierre Bercheure, who died in +1362. To Bercheure, prior of the Benedictine Convent of St. Eloi at +Paris, the collection of 'Gesta Romanorum' has been ascribed. A German +scholar, however, Herr Oesterley, who published in 1872 the result of an +investigation of one hundred and sixty-five manuscripts, asserts that +the 'Gesta' were originally compiled towards the end of the thirteenth +century in England, from which country they were taken to the Continent, +there undergoing various alterations. "The popularity of the original +'Gesta,'" says Sir F. Madden, "not only on the Continent but among the +English clergy, appears to have induced some person, apparently in the +reign of Richard the Second, to undertake a similar compilation in this +country." The 'Anglo-Latin Gesta' is the immediate original of the early +English translation from which the following stories are taken, with +slight verbal changes. + +The word _Gesta_, in mediaeval Latin, means notable or historic act or +exploit. The Church, drawing all power, consequence, and grace from +Rome, naturally looked back to the Roman empire for historic examples. +In this fact we find the reason of the name. The tales betray an entire +ignorance of history. In one, for example, a statue is raised to Julius +Caesar twenty-two years after the founding of Rome; while in another, +Socrates, Alexander, and the Emperor Claudius are living together in +Rome. + +It is a pleasant picture which such legends bring before our eyes. The +old parish church of England, which with its yards is a common +meeting-place for the people's fairs and wakes, and even for their +beer-brewing; the simple rustics forming the congregation; the tonsured +head of the priest rising above the pulpit,--a monk from the neighboring +abbey, who earns his brown bread and ale and venison by endeavors to +move the moral sentiments which lie at the root of the Anglo-Saxon +character and beneath the apparent stolidity of each yokel. Many of the +tales are unfit for reproduction in our more mincing times. The +faithlessness of wives--with no reference whatever to the faithlessness +of husbands--is a favorite theme with these ancient cenobites. + +It is possible, Herr Oesterley thinks, that the conjecture of Francis +Douce may be true, and the 'Gesta' may after all have been compiled in +Germany. But the bulk of the evidence goes to prove an English origin. +The earliest editions were published at Utrecht and at Cologne. The +English translation, from the text of the Latin of the reign of Richard +II., was first printed by Wynkyn de Worde between 1510 and 1515. In 1577 +Richard Robinson published a revised edition of Wynkyn de Worde's. The +work became again popular, and between 1648 and 1703 at least eight +issues were sold. An English translation by Charles Swan from the Latin +text was first published in 1824, and reissued under the editorship of +Thomas Wright in 1872 as a part of Bohn's Library. + + + +THEODOSIUS THE EMPEROURE[A] + + +Theodosius reigned a wise emperour in the cite of Rome, and mighty he +was of power; the which emperoure had three doughters. So it liked to +this emperour to knowe which of his doughters loved him best; and then +he said to the eldest doughter, "How much lovest thou me?" "Forsoth," +quoth she, "more than I do myself." "Therefore," quoth he, "thou shalt +be heighly advanced;" and married her to a riche and mighty kyng. Then +he came to the second, and said to her, "Doughter, how muche lovest thou +me?" "As muche forsoth," she said, "as I do myself." So the emperoure +married her to a duke. And then he said to the third doughter, "How much +lovest thou me?" "Forsoth," quoth she, "as muche as ye be worthy, and no +more." Then said the emperoure, "Doughter, since thou lovest me no more, +thou shalt not be married so richely as thy sisters be." And then he +married her to an earl. + + [A] The story of King Lear and his three daughters. + +After this it happened that the emperour held battle against the Kyng of +Egipt, and the kyng drove the emperour oute of the empire, in so muche +that the emperour had no place to abide inne. So he wrote lettres +ensealed with his ryng to his first doughter that said that she loved +him more than her self, for to pray her of succoring in that great need, +bycause he was put out of his empire. And when the doughter had red +these lettres she told it to the kyng her husband. Then quoth the kyng, +"It is good that we succor him in his need. I shall," quoth he, "gather +an host and help him in all that I can or may; and that will not be done +withoute great costage." "Yea," quoth she, "it were sufficiant if that +we would graunt him V knyghtes to be fellowship with him while he is +oute of his empire." And so it was done indeed; and the doughter wrote +again to the fader that other help might he not have, but V knyghtes of +the kynges to be in his fellowship, at the coste of the kyng her +husband. + +And when the emperour heard this he was hevy in his hert and said, +"Alas! alas! all my trust was in her; for she said she loved me more +than herself, and therefore I advanced her so high." + +Then he wrote to the second, that said she loved him as much as her +self. And when she had herd his lettres she shewed his erand to her +husband, and gave him in counsel that he should find him mete and drink +and clothing, honestly as for the state of such a lord, during tyme of +his nede; and when this was graunted she wrote lettres agein to hir +fadir. + +The Emperour was hevy with this answere, and said, "Since my two +doughters have thus grieved me, in sooth I shall prove the third." + +And so he wrote to the third that she loved him as muche as he was +worthy; and prayed her of succor in his nede, and told her the answere +of her two sisters. So the third doughter, when she considered the +mischief of her fader, she told her husbond in this fourme: "My +worshipful lord, do succor me now in this great nede; my fadir is put +out of his empire and his heritage." Then spake he, "What were thy will +I did thereto?" "That ye gather a great host," quoth she, "and help him +to fight against his enemys." "I shall fulfill thy will," said the earl; +and gathered a greate hoste and wente with the emperour at his owne +costage to the battle, and had the victorye, and set the emperour again +in his heritage. + +And then said the emperour, "Blessed be the hour I gat my yonest +doughter! I loved her lesse than any of the others, and now in my nede +she hath succored me, and the others have failed me, and therefore after +my deth she shall have mine empire." And so it was done in dede; for +after the deth of the emperour the youngest doughter reigned in his +sted, and ended peacefully. + + + +MORALITE + + +Dere Frendis, this emperour may be called each worldly man, the which +hath three doughters. The first doughter, that saith, "I love my fadir +more than my self," is the worlde, whom a man loveth so well that he +expendeth all his life about it; but what tyme he shall be in nede of +deth, scarcely if the world will for all his love give him five +knyghtes, _scil._ v. boards for a coffin to lay his body inne in the +sepulcre. The second doughter, that loveth her fader as muche as her +selfe, is thy wife or thy children or thy kin, the whiche will haply +find thee in thy nede to the tyme that thou be put in the erthe. And the +third doughter, that loveth thee as muche as thou art worthy, is our +Lord God, whom we love too little. But if we come to him in tyme of oure +nede with a clene hert and mynd, withoute doute we shall have help of +him against the Kyng of Egipt, _scil._ the Devil; and he shall set us in +our owne heritage, _scil._ the kyngdome of heven. _Ad quod nos_ [etc.]. + + + +ANCELMUS THE EMPEROUR[B] + + +Ancelmus reigned emperour in the cite of Rome, and he wedded to wife +the Kinges doughter of Jerusalem, the which was a faire woman and long +dwelte in his company. + + [B] The story of the three caskets in 'The Merchant of + Venice.' + +... Happing in a certaine evening as he walked after his supper in a +fair green, and thought of all the worlde, and especially that he had no +heir, and how that the Kinge of Naples strongly therefore noyed [harmed] +him each year; and so whenne it was night he went to bed and took a +sleep and dreamed this: He saw the firmament in its most clearnesse, and +more clear than it was wont to be, and the moon was more pale; and on a +parte of the moon was a faire-colored bird, and beside her stood two +beasts, the which nourished the bird with their heat and breath. After +this came divers beasts and birds flying, and they sang so sweetly that +the emperour was with the song awaked. + +Thenne on the morrow the emperoure had great marvel of his sweven +[dream], and called to him divinours [soothsayers] and lords of all the +empire, and saide to them, "Deere frendes, telleth me what is the +interpretation of my sweven, and I shall reward you; and but if ye do, +ye shall be dead." And then they saide, "Lord, show to us this dream, +and we shall tell thee the interpretation of it." And then the emperour +told them as is saide before, from beginning to ending. And then they +were glad, and with a great gladnesse spake to him and saide, "Sir, this +was a good sweven. For the firmament that thou sawe so clear is the +empire, the which henceforth shall be in prosperity; the pale moon is +the empresse.... The little bird is the faire son whom the empresse +shall bryng forth, when time cometh; the two beasts been riche men and +wise men that shall be obedient to thy childe; the other beasts been +other folke, that never made homage and nowe shall be subject to thy +sone; the birds that sang so sweetly is the empire of Rome, that shall +joy of thy child's birth: and sir, this is the interpretacion of your +dream." + +When the empresse heard this she was glad enough; and soon she bare a +faire sone, and thereof was made much joy. And when the King of Naples +heard that, he thought to himselfe: "I have longe time holden war +against the emperour, and it may not be but that it will be told to his +son, when that he cometh to his full age, howe that I have fought all my +life against his fader. Yea," thought he, "he is now a child, and it is +good that I procure for peace, that I may have rest of him when he is in +his best and I in my worste." + +So he wrote lettres to the emperour for peace to be had; and the +emperour seeing that he did that more for cause of dread than of love, +he sent him worde again, and saide that he would make him surety of +peace, with condition that he would be in his servitude and yield him +homage all his life, each year. Thenne the kyng called his counsel and +asked of them what was best to do; and the lordes of his kyngdom saide +that it was goode to follow the emperour in his will:--"In the first ye +aske of him surety of peace; to that we say thus: Thou hast a doughter +and he hath a son; let matrimony be made between them, and so there +shall be good sikernesse [sureness]; also it is good to make him homage +and yield him rents." Thenne the kyng sent word to the emperour and +saide that he would fulfill his will in all points, and give his +doughter to his son in wife, if that it were pleasing to him. + +This answer liked well the emperour. So lettres were made of this +covenaunt; and he made a shippe to be adeyned [prepared], to lead his +doughter with a certain of knightes and ladies to the emperour to be +married with his sone. And whenne they were in the shippe and hadde far +passed from the lande, there rose up a great horrible tempest, and +drowned all that were in the ship, except the maid. Thenne the maide set +all her hope strongly in God; and at the last the tempest ceased; but +then followed strongly a great whale to devoure this maid. And whenne +she saw that, she muche dreaded; and when the night come, the maid, +dreading that the whale would have swallowed the ship, smote fire at a +stone, and had great plenty of fire; and as long as the fire lasted the +whale durst come not near, but about cock's crow the mayde, for great +vexacion that she had with the tempest, fell asleep, and in her sleep +the fire went out; and when it was out the whale came nigh and swallowed +both the ship and the mayde. And when the mayde felt that she was in the +womb of a whale, she smote and made great fire, and grievously wounded +the whale with a little knife, in so much that the whale drew to the +land and died; for that is the kind to draw to the land when he shall +die. + +And in this time there was an earl named Pirius, and he walked in his +disport by the sea, and afore him he sawe the whale come toward the +land. He gathered great help and strength of men; and with diverse +instruments they smote the whale in every part of him. And when the +damsell heard the great strokes she cried with an high voice and saide, +"Gentle sirs, have pity on me, for I am the doughter of a king, and a +mayde have been since I was born." Whenne the earl heard this he +marveled greatly, and opened the whale and took oute the damsell. Thenne +the maide tolde by order how that she was a kyng's doughter, and how she +lost her goods in the sea, and how she should be married to the son of +the emperour. And when the earl heard these words he was glad, and helde +the maide with him a great while, till tyme that she was well comforted; +and then he sent her solemnly to the emperour. And whenne he saw her +coming, and heard that she had tribulacions in the sea, he had great +compassion for her in his heart, and saide to her, "Goode damsell, thou +hast suffered muche anger for the love of my son; nevertheless, if that +thou be worthy to have him I shall soon prove." + +The emperour had made III. vessells, and the first was of clean [pure] +golde and full of precious stones outwarde, and within full of dead +bones; and it had a superscription in these words: _They that choose me +shall find in me that they deserve._ The second vessell was all of clean +silver, and full of worms: and outwarde it had this superscription: +_They that choose me shall find in me that nature and kind desireth._ +And the third vessell was of lead and within was full of precious +stones, and without was set this scripture [inscription]: _They that +choose me shall find in me that God hath disposed._ These III. vessells +tooke the emperour and showed the maide, saying, "Lo! deer damsell, here +are three worthy vessellys, and if thou choose [the] one of these +wherein is profit and right to be chosen, then thou shalt have my son to +husband; and if thou choose that that is not profitable to thee nor to +no other, forsooth, thenne thou shalt not have him." + +Whenne the doughter heard this and saw the three vessells, she lifted up +her eyes to God and saide:--"Thou, Lord, that knowest all things, graunt +me thy grace now in the need of this time, _scil._ that I may choose at +this time, wherethrough [through which] I may joy the son of the +emperour and have him to husband." Thenne she beheld the first vessell +that was so subtly [cunningly] made, and read the superscription; and +thenne she thought, "What have I deserved for to have so precious a +vessell? and though it be never so gay without, I know not how foul it +is within;" so she tolde the emperour that she would by no way choose +that. Thenne she looked to the second, that was of silver, and read the +superscription; and thenne she said, "My nature and kind asketh but +delectation of the flesh, forsooth, sir," quoth she; "and I refuse +this." Thenne she looked to the third, that was of lead, and read the +superscription, and then she, saide, "In sooth, God disposed never evil; +forsooth, that which God hath disposed will I take and choose." + +And when the emperour sawe that he saide, "Goode damesell, open now that +vessell and see what thou hast found." And when it was opened it was +full of gold and precious stones. And thenne the emperour saide to her +again, "Damesell, thou hast wisely chosen and won my son to thine +husband." So the day was set of their bridal, and great joy was made; +and the son reigned after the decease of the fadir, the which made faire +ende. _Ad quod nos perducat!_ Amen. + + + +MORALITE + + +Deere frendis, this emperour is the Father of Heaven, the whiche made +man ere he tooke flesh. The empress that conceived was the blessed +Virgin, that conceived by the annunciation of the angel. The firmament +was set in his most clearnesse, _scil._ the world was lighted in all its +parts by the concepcion of the empress Our Lady.... The little bird that +passed from the side of the moon is our Lord Jesus Christ, that was born +at midnight and lapped [wrapped] in clothes and set in the crib. The two +beasts are the oxen and the asses. The beasts that come from far parts +are the herds [shepherds] to whom the angels saide, _Ecce annuncio vobis +gaudium magnum_,--"Lo! I shew you a great joy." The birds that sang so +sweetly are angels of heaven, that sang _Gloria in excelsis Deo_. The +king that held such war is mankind, that was contrary to God while that +it was in power of the Devil; but when our Lord Jesus Christ was born, +then mankind inclined to God, and sent for peace to be had, when he took +baptism and saide that he gave him to God and forsook the Devil. Now the +king gave his doughter to the son of the emperour, _scil._ each one of +us ought to give to God our soul in matrimony; for he is ready to +receive her to his spouse [etc.]. + + + +HOW AN ANCHORESS WAS TEMPTED BY THE DEVIL + + +There was a woman some time in the world living that sawe the +wretchedness, the sins, and the unstableness that was in the worlde; +therefore she left all the worlde, and wente into the deserte, and lived +there many years with roots and grasse, and such fruit as she might +gete; and dranke water of the welle-spryng, for othere livelihood had +she none. Atte laste, when she had longe dwelled there in that place, +the Devil in likenesse of a woman, come to this holy woman's place; and +when he come there he knocked at the door. The holy woman come to the +door and asked what she would? She saide, "I pray thee, dame, that thou +wilt harbor me this night; for this day is at an end, and I am afeard +that wild beasts should devour me." The good woman saide, "For God's +love ye are welcome to me; and take such as God sendeth." They sat them +down together, and the good woman sat and read saints' lives and other +good things, till she come to this writing, "Every tree that bringeth +not forth good fruit shall be caste downe, and burnt in helle." "That is +sooth," saide the Fiend, "and therefore I am adread; for if we lead oure +life alone, therefore we shall have little meed, for when we dwelle +alone we profit none but oure self. Therefore it were better, me +thinketh, to go and dwelle among folke, for to give example to man and +woman dwelling in this worlde. Then shall we have much meed." When this +was saide they went to reste. This good woman thought faste in her heart +that she might not sleep nor have no rest, for the thing that the Fiend +had said. Anon this woman arose and saide to the other woman, "This +night might I have no reste for the words that thou saide yester even. +Therefore I wot never what is best to be done for us." Then the Devil +said to her again, "It is best to go forth to profit to othere that +shall be glad of oure coming, for that is much more worth than to live +alone." Then saide the woman to the Fiend, "Go we now forthe on oure +way, for me thinketh it is not evil to essay." And when she should go +oute at the door, she stood still, and said thus, "Now, sweet Lady, +Mother of mercy, and help at all need, now counsell me the beste, and +keep me both body and soule from deadly sin." When she had said these +words with good heart and with good will, oure Lady come and laide her +hande on her breast, and put her in again, and bade her that she should +abide there, and not be led by falsehood of oure Enemy. The Fiend anon +went away that she saw him no more there. Then she was full fain that +she was kept and not beguiled of her enemy. Then she said on this wise +to oure Blessed Lady that is full of mercy and goodnesse, "I thanke thee +nowe with all my heart, specially for this keeping and many more that +thou hast done to me oft since; and good Lady, keep me from +henceforward." Lo! here may men and women see how ready this good Lady +is to help her servants at all their need, when they call to her for +help, that they fall not in sin bestirring of the wicked enemy the false +Fiend. + + + + +[Illustration: EDWARD GIBBON.] + + + + +EDWARD GIBBON + +(1737-1794) + +BY W. E. H. LECKY + + +The history of Gibbon has been described by John Stuart Mill as the only +eighteenth-century history that has withstood nineteenth-century +criticism; and whatever objections modern critics may bring against some +of its parts, the substantial justice of this verdict will scarcely be +contested. No other history of that century has been so often reprinted, +annotated, and discussed, or remains to the present day a capital +authority on the great period of which it treats. As a composition it +stands unchallenged and conspicuous among the masterpieces of English +literature, while as a history it covers a space of more than twelve +hundred years, including some of the most momentous events in the annals +of mankind. + +Gibbon was born at Putney, Surrey, April 27th, 1737. Though his father +was a member of Parliament and the owner of a moderate competence, the +author of this great work was essentially a self-educated man. Weak +health and almost constant illness in early boyhood broke up his school +life,--which appears to have been fitfully and most imperfectly +conducted,--withdrew him from boyish games, but also gave him, as it has +given to many other shy and sedentary boys, an early and inveterate +passion for reading. His reading, however, was very unlike that of an +ordinary boy. He has given a graphic picture of the ardor with which, +when he was only fourteen, he flung himself into serious but unguided +study; which was at first purely desultory, but gradually contracted +into historic lines, and soon concentrated itself mainly on that +Oriental history which he was one day so brilliantly to illuminate. +"Before I was sixteen," he says, "I had exhausted all that could be +learned in English of the Arabs and Persians, the Tartars and Turks; and +the same ardor led me to guess at the French of D'Herbelot, and to +construe the barbarous Latin of Pocock's 'Abulfaragius.'" + +His health however gradually improved, and when he entered Magdalen +College, Oxford, it might have been expected that a new period of +intellectual development would have begun; but Oxford had at this time +sunk to the lowest depth of stagnation, and to Gibbon it proved +extremely uncongenial. He complained that he found no guidance, no +stimulus, and no discipline, and that the fourteen months he spent +there were the most idle and unprofitable of his life. They were very +unexpectedly cut short by his conversion to the Roman Catholic faith, +which he formally adopted at the age of sixteen. + +This conversion is, on the whole, the most surprising incident of his +calm and uneventful life. The tendencies of the time, both in England +and on the Continent, were in a wholly different direction. The more +spiritual and emotional natures were now passing into the religious +revival of Wesley and Whitefield, which was slowly transforming the +character of the Anglican Church and laying the foundations of the great +Evangelical party. In other quarters the predominant tendencies were +towards unbelief, skepticism, or indifference. Nature seldom formed a +more skeptical intellect than that of Gibbon, and he was utterly without +the spiritual insight, or spiritual cravings, or overmastering +enthusiasms, that produce and explain most religious changes. Nor was he +in the least drawn towards Catholicism on its aesthetic side. He had +never come in contact with its worship or its professors; and to his +unimaginative, unimpassioned, and profoundly intellectual temperament, +no ideal type could be more uncongenial than that of the saint. He had +however from early youth been keenly interested in theological +controversies. He argued, like Lardner and Paley, that miracles are the +Divine attestation of orthodoxy. Middleton convinced him that unless the +Patristic writers were wholly undeserving of credit, the gift of +miracles continued in the Church during the fourth and fifth centuries; +and he was unable to resist the conclusion that during that period many +of the leading doctrines of Catholicism had passed into the Church. The +writings of the Jesuit Parsons, and still more the writings of Bossuet, +completed the work which Middleton had begun. Having arrived at this +conclusion, Gibbon acted on it with characteristic honesty, and was +received into the Church on the 8th of June, 1753. + +The English universities were at this time purely Anglican bodies, and +the conversion of Gibbon excluded him from Oxford. His father +judiciously sent him to Lausanne to study with a Swiss pastor named +Pavilliard, with whom he spent five happy and profitable years. The +theological episode was soon terminated. Partly under the influence of +his teacher, but much more through his own reading and reflections, he +soon disentangled the purely intellectual ties that bound him to the +Church of Rome; and on Christmas Day, 1754, he received the sacrament in +the Protestant church of Lausanne. + +His residence at Lausanne was very useful to him. He had access to books +in abundance, and his tutor, who was a man of great good sense and +amiability but of no remarkable capacity, very judiciously left his +industrious pupil to pursue his studies in his own way. "Hiving wisdom +with each studious year," as Byron so truly says, he speedily amassed a +store of learning which has seldom been equaled. His insatiable love of +knowledge, his rare capacity for concentrated, accurate, and fruitful +study, guided by a singularly sure and masculine judgment, soon made +him, in the true sense of the word, one of the best scholars of his +time. His learning, however, was not altogether of the kind that may be +found in a great university professor. Though the classical languages +became familiar to him, he never acquired or greatly valued the minute +and finished scholarship which is the boast of the chief English +schools; and careful students have observed that in following Greek +books he must have very largely used the Latin translations. Perhaps in +his capacity of historian this deficiency was rather an advantage than +the reverse. It saved him from the exaggerated value of classical form, +and from the neglect of the more corrupt literatures, to which English +scholars have been often prone. Gibbon always valued books mainly for +what they contained, and he had early learned the lesson which all good +historians should learn: that some of his most valuable materials will +be found in literatures that have no artistic merit; in writers who, +without theory and almost without criticism, simply relate the facts +which they have seen, and express in unsophisticated language the +beliefs and impressions of their time. + +Lausanne and not Oxford was the real birthplace of his intellect, and he +returned from it almost a foreigner. French had become as familiar to +him as his own tongue; and his first book, a somewhat superficial essay +on the study of literature, was published in the French language. The +noble contemporary French literature filled him with delight, and he +found on the borders of the Lake of Geneva a highly cultivated society +to which he was soon introduced, and which probably gave him more real +pleasure than any in which he afterwards moved. With Voltaire himself he +had some slight acquaintance, and he at one time looked on him with +profound admiration; though fuller knowledge made him sensible of the +flaws in that splendid intellect. I am here concerned with the life of +Gibbon only in as far as it discloses the influences that contributed to +his master work, and among these influences the foreign element holds a +prominent place. There was little in Gibbon that was distinctively +English; his mind was essentially cosmopolitan. His tastes, ideals, and +modes of thought and feeling turned instinctively to the Continent. + +In one respect this foreign type was of great advantage to his work. +Gibbon excels all other English historians in symmetry, proportion, +perspective, and arrangement, which are also the pre-eminent and +characteristic merits of the best French literature. We find in his +writing nothing of the great miscalculations of space that were made by +such writers as Macaulay and Buckle; nothing of the awkward repetitions, +the confused arrangement, the semi-detached and disjointed episodes that +mar the beauty of many other histories of no small merit. Vast and +multifarious as are the subjects which he has treated, his work is a +great whole, admirably woven in all its parts. On the other hand, his +foreign taste may perhaps be seen in his neglect of the Saxon element, +which is the most vigorous and homely element in English prose. Probably +in no other English writer does the Latin element so entirely +predominate. Gibbon never wrote an unmeaning and very seldom an obscure +sentence; he could always paint with sustained and stately eloquence an +illustrious character or a splendid scene: but he was wholly wanting in +the grace of simplicity, and a monotony of glitter and of mannerism is +the great defect of his style. He possessed, to a degree which even +Tacitus and Bacon had hardly surpassed, the supreme literary gift of +condensation, and it gives an admirable force and vividness to his +narrative; but it is sometimes carried to excess. Not unfrequently it is +attained by an excessive allusiveness, and a wide knowledge of the +subject is needed to enable the reader to perceive the full import and +meaning conveyed or hinted at by a mere turn of phrase. But though his +style is artificial and pedantic, and greatly wanting in flexibility, it +has a rare power of clinging to the memory, and it has profoundly +influenced English prose. That excellent judge Cardinal Newman has said +of Gibbon, "I seem to trace his vigorous condensation and peculiar +rhythm at every turn in the literature of the present day." + +It is not necessary to relate here in any detail the later events of the +life of Gibbon. There was his enlistment as captain in the Hampshire +militia. It involved two and a half years of active service, extending +from May 1760 to December 1762; and as Gibbon afterwards acknowledged, +if it interrupted his studies and brought him into very uncongenial +duties and societies, it at least greatly enlarged his acquaintance with +English life, and also gave him a knowledge of the rudiments of military +science, which was not without its use to the historian of so many +battles. There was a long journey, lasting for two years and five +months, in France and Italy, which greatly confirmed his foreign +tendencies. In Paris he moved familiarly in some of the best French +literary society; and in Rome, as he tells us in a well-known passage, +while he sat "musing amidst the ruins of the Capitol while the +barefooted friars were singing vespers in the Temple of Jupiter" (which +is now the Church of the Ara Coeli),--on October 15th, 1764,--he first +conceived the idea of writing the history of the decline and fall of +Rome. + +There was also that very curious episode in his life, lasting from 1774 +to 1782,--his appearance in the House of Commons. He had declined an +offer of his father's to purchase a seat for him in 1760; and fourteen +years later, when his father was dead, when his own circumstances were +considerably contracted, he received and accepted at the hands of a +family connection the offer of a seat. His Parliamentary career was +entirely undistinguished, and he never even opened his mouth in +debate,--a fact which was not forgotten when very recently another +historian was candidate for a seat in Parliament. In truth, this +somewhat shy and reserved scholar, with his fastidious taste, his +eminently judicial mind, and his highly condensed and elaborate style, +was singularly unfit for the rough work of Parliamentary discussion. No +one can read his books without perceiving that his English was not that +of a debater; and he has candidly admitted that he entered Parliament +without public spirit or serious interest in politics, and that he +valued it chiefly as leading to an office which might restore the +fortune which the extravagance of his father had greatly impaired. His +only real public service was the composition in French of a reply to the +French manifesto which was issued at the beginning of the war of 1778. +He voted steadily and placidly as a Tory, and it is not probable that in +doing so he did any violence to his opinions. Like Hume, he shrank with +an instinctive dislike from all popular agitations, from all turbulence, +passion, exaggeration, and enthusiasm; and a temperate and well-ordered +despotism was evidently his ideal. He showed it in the well-known +passage in which he extols the benevolent despotism of the Antonines as +without exception the happiest period in the history of mankind, and in +the unmixed horror with which he looked upon the French Revolution that +broke up the old landmarks of Europe, For three years he held an office +in the Board of Trade, which added considerably to his income without +adding greatly to his labors, and he supported steadily the American +policy of Lord North and the Coalition ministry of North and Fox; but +the loss of his office and the retirement of North soon drove him from +Parliament, and he shortly after took up his residence at Lausanne. + +But before this time a considerable part of his great work had been +accomplished. The first quarto volume of the 'Decline and Fall' appeared +in February 1776. As is usually the case with historical works, it +occupied a much longer period than its successors, and was the fruit of +about ten years of labor. It passed rapidly through three editions, +received the enthusiastic eulogy of Hume and Robertson, and was no doubt +greatly assisted in its circulation by the storm of controversy that +arose about his Fifteenth and Sixteenth Chapters. In April 1781 two more +volumes appeared, and the three concluding volumes were published +together on the 8th of May, 1788, being the fifty-first birthday of the +author. + +A work of such magnitude, dealing with so vast a variety of subjects, +was certain to exhibit some flaws. The controversy at first turned +mainly upon its religious tendency. The complete skepticism of the +author, his aversion to the ecclesiastical type which dominated in the +period of which he wrote, and his unalterable conviction that +Christianity, by diverting the strength and enthusiasm of the Empire +from civic into ascetic and ecclesiastical channels, was a main cause of +the downfall of the Empire and of the triumph of barbarism, gave him a +bias which it was impossible to overlook. On no other subject is his +irony more bitter or his contempt so manifestly displayed. Few good +critics will deny that the growth of the ascetic spirit had a large part +in corroding and enfeebling the civic virtues of the Empire; but the +part which it played was that of intensifying a disease that had already +begun, and Gibbon, while exaggerating the amount of the evil, has very +imperfectly described the great services rendered even by a monastic +Church in laying the basis of another civilization and in mitigating the +calamities of the barbarian invasion. The causes he has given of the +spread of Christianity in the Fifteenth Chapter were for the most part +true causes, but there were others of which he was wholly insensible. +The strong moral enthusiasms that transform the character and inspire or +accelerate all great religious changes lay wholly beyond the sphere of +his realizations. His language about the Christian martyrs is the most +repulsive portion of his work; and his comparison of the sufferings +caused by pagan and Christian persecutions is greatly vitiated by the +fact that he only takes account of the number of deaths, and lays no +stress on the profuse employment of atrocious tortures, which was one of +the most distinct features of the pagan persecutions. At the same time, +though Gibbon displays in this field a manifest and a distorting bias, +he never, like some of his French contemporaries, sinks into the mere +partisan, awarding to one side unqualified eulogy and to the other +unqualified contempt. Let the reader who doubts this examine and compare +his masterly portraits of Julian and of Athanasius, and he will perceive +how clearly the great historian could recognize weaknesses in the +characters by which he was most attracted, and elements of true +greatness in those by which he was most repelled. A modern writer, in +treating of the history of religions, would have given a larger space to +comparative religion, and to the gradual, unconscious, and spontaneous +growth of myths in the twilight periods of the human mind. These however +were subjects which were scarcely known in the days of Gibbon, and he +cannot be blamed for not having discussed them. + +Another class of objections which has been brought against him is that +he is weak upon the philosophical side, and deals with history mainly +as a mere chronicle of events, and not as a chain of causes and +consequences, a series of problems to be solved, a gradual evolution +which it is the task of the historian to explain. Coleridge, who +detested Gibbon and spoke of him with gross injustice, has put this +objection in the strongest form. He accuses him of having reduced +history to a mere collection of splendid anecdotes; of noting nothing +but what may produce an effect; of skipping from eminence to eminence +without ever taking his readers through the valleys between; of having +never made a single philosophical attempt to fathom the ultimate causes +of the decline and fall of the Roman Empire, which is the very subject +of his history. That such charges are grossly exaggerated will be +apparent to any one who will carefully read the Second and Third +Chapters, describing the state and tendencies of the Empire under the +Antonines; or the chapters devoted to the rise and character of the +barbarians, to the spread of Christianity, to the influence of +monasticism, to the jurisprudence of the republic and of the Empire; nor +would it be difficult to collect many acute and profound philosophical +remarks from other portions of the history. Still, it may be admitted +that the philosophical side is not its strongest part. Social and +economical changes are sometimes inadequately examined and explained, +and we often desire fuller information about the manners and life of the +masses of the people. As far as concerns the age of the Antonines, this +want has been amply supplied by the great work of Friedlaender. + +History, like many other things in our generation, has fallen largely +into the hands of specialists; and it is inevitable that men who have +devoted their lives to a minute examination of short periods should be +able to detect some deficiencies and errors in a writer who traversed a +period of more than twelve hundred years. Many generations of scholars +have arisen since Gibbon; many new sources of knowledge have become +available, and archaeology especially has thrown a flood of new light on +some of the subjects he treated. Though his knowledge and his narrative +are on the whole admirably sustained, there are periods which he knew +less well and treated less fully than others. His account of the +Crusades is generally acknowledged to be one of the most conspicuous of +these, and within the last few years there has arisen a school of +historians who protest against the low opinion of the Byzantine Empire +which was held by Gibbon, and was almost universal among scholars till +the present generation. That these writers have brought into relief +certain merits of the Lower Empire which Gibbon had neglected, will not +be denied; but it is perhaps too early to decide whether the reaction +has not, like most reactions, been carried to extravagance, and whether +in its general features the estimate of Gibbon is not nearer the truth +than some of those which are now put forward to replace it. + +Much must no doubt be added to the work of Gibbon in order to bring it +up to the level of our present knowledge; but there is no sign that any +single work is likely to supersede it or to render it useless to the +student; nor does its survival depend only or even mainly on its great +literary qualities, which have made it one of the classics of the +language. In some of these qualities Hume was the equal of Gibbon and in +others his superior, and he brought to his history a more penetrating +and philosophical intellect and an equally calm and unenthusiastic +nature; but the study which Hume bestowed on his subject was so +superficial and his statements were often so inaccurate, that his work +is now never quoted as an authority. With Gibbon it is quite otherwise. +His marvelous industry, his almost unrivaled accuracy of detail, his +sincere love of truth, his rare discrimination and insight in weighing +testimony and in judging character, have given him a secure place among +the greatest historians of the world. + +His life lasted only fifty-six years; he died in London on January 15th, +1794. With a single exception his history is his only work of real +importance. That exception is his admirable autobiography. Gibbon left +behind him six distinct sketches, which his friend Lord Sheffield put +together with singular skill. It is one of the best specimens of +self-portraiture in the language, reflecting with pellucid clearness +both the life and character, the merits and defects, of its author. He +was certainly neither a hero nor a saint; nor did he possess the moral +and intellectual qualities that dominate in the great conflicts of life, +sway the passions of men, appeal powerfully to the imagination, or +dazzle and impress in social intercourse. He was a little slow, a little +pompous, a little affected and pedantic. In the general type of his mind +and character he bore much more resemblance to Hume, Adam Smith, or +Reynolds, than to Johnson or Burke. A reserved scholar, who was rather +proud of being a man of the world; a confirmed bachelor, much wedded to +his comforts though caring nothing for luxury, he was eminently moderate +in his ambitions, and there was not a trace of passion or enthusiasm in +his nature. Such a man was not likely to inspire any strong devotion. +But his temper was most kindly, equable, and contented; he was a steady +friend, and he appears to have been always liked and honored in the +cultivated and uncontentious society in which he delighted. His life was +not a great one, but it was in all essentials blameless and happy. He +found the work which was most congenial to him. He pursued it with +admirable industry and with brilliant success, and he left behind him a +book which is not likely to be forgotten while the English language +endures. + + [Signature: W. E. H. Lecky] + + + +ZENOBIA + + +Aurelian had no sooner secured the person and provinces of Tetricus, +than he turned his arms against Zenobia, the celebrated queen of Palmyra +and the East. Modern Europe has produced several illustrious women who +have sustained with glory the weight of empire; nor is our own age +destitute of such distinguished characters. But if we except the +doubtful achievements of Semiramis, Zenobia is perhaps the only female +whose superior genius broke through the servile indolence imposed on her +sex by the climate and manners of Asia. She claimed her descent from the +Macedonian kings of Egypt, equaled in beauty her ancestor Cleopatra, and +far surpassed that princess in chastity and valor. Zenobia was esteemed +the most lovely as well as the most heroic of her sex. She was of a dark +complexion (for in speaking of a lady these trifles become important). +Her teeth were of a pearly whiteness, and her large black eyes sparkled +with uncommon fire, tempered by the most attractive sweetness. Her voice +was strong and harmonious. Her manly understanding was strengthened and +adorned by study. She was not ignorant of the Latin tongue, but +possessed in equal perfection the Greek, the Syriac, and the Egyptian +languages. She had drawn up for her own use an epitome of Oriental +history, and familiarly compared the beauties of Homer and Plato under +the tuition of the sublime Longinus. + +This accomplished woman gave her hand to Odenathus, who, from a private +station, raised himself to the dominion of the East. She soon became the +friend and companion of a hero. In the intervals of war, Odenathus +passionately delighted in the exercise of hunting; he pursued with ardor +the wild beasts of the desert,--lions, panthers, and bears; and the +ardor of Zenobia in that dangerous amusement was not inferior to his +own. She had inured her constitution to fatigue, disdained the use of a +covered carriage, generally appeared on horseback in a military habit, +and sometimes marched several miles on foot at the head of the troops. +The success of Odenathus was in a great measure ascribed to her +incomparable prudence and fortitude. Their splendid victories over the +Great King, whom they twice pursued as far as the gates of Ctesiphon, +laid the foundations of their united fame and power. The armies which +they commanded, and the provinces which they had saved, acknowledged +not any other sovereigns than their invincible chiefs. The Senate and +people of Rome revered a stranger who had avenged their captive emperor, +and even the insensible son of Valerian accepted Odenathus for his +legitimate colleague. + +After a successful expedition against the Gothic plunderers of Asia, the +Palmyrenian prince returned to the city of Emesa in Syria. Invincible in +war, he was there cut off by domestic treason; and his favorite +amusement of hunting was the cause, or at least the occasion, of his +death. His nephew Maeonius presumed to dart his javelin before that of +his uncle; and though admonished of his error, repeated the same +insolence. As a monarch and as a sportsman, Odenathus was provoked, took +away his horse, a mark of ignominy among the barbarians, and chastised +the rash youth by a short confinement. The offense was soon forgot, but +the punishment was remembered; and Maeonius, with a few daring +associates, assassinated his uncle in the midst of a great +entertainment. Herod, the son of Odenathus, though not of Zenobia, a +young man of a soft and effeminate temper, was killed with his father. +But Maeonius obtained only the pleasure of revenge by this bloody deed. +He had scarcely time to assume the title of Augustus, before he was +sacrificed by Zenobia to the memory of her husband. + +With the assistance of his most faithful friends, she immediately filled +the vacant throne, and governed with manly counsels Palmyra, Syria, and +the East, above five years. By the death of Odenathus, that authority +was at an end which the Senate had granted him only as a personal +distinction; but his martial widow, disdaining both the Senate and +Gallienus, obliged one of the Roman generals who was sent against her to +retreat into Europe, with the loss of his army and his reputation. +Instead of the little passions which so frequently perplex a female +reign, the steady administration of Zenobia was guided by the most +judicious maxims of policy. If it was expedient to pardon, she could +calm her resentment; if it was necessary to punish, she could impose +silence on the voice of pity. Her strict economy was accused of avarice; +yet on every proper occasion she appeared magnificent and liberal. The +neighboring States of Arabia, Armenia, and Persia dreaded her enmity and +solicited her alliance. To the dominions of Odenathus, which extended +from the Euphrates to the frontiers of Bithynia, his widow added the +inheritance of her ancestors, the populous and fertile kingdom of +Egypt. The Emperor Claudius acknowledged her merit, and was content that +while _he_ pursued the Gothic war, _she_ should assert the dignity of +the Empire in the East. The conduct however of Zenobia was attended with +some ambiguity, nor is it unlikely that she had conceived the design of +erecting an independent and hostile monarchy. She blended with the +popular manners of Roman princes the stately pomp of the courts of Asia, +and exacted from her subjects the same adoration that was paid to the +successors of Cyrus. She bestowed on her three sons a Latin education, +and often showed them to the troops adorned with the imperial purple. +For herself she reserved the diadem, with the splendid but doubtful +title of Queen of the East. + +When Aurelian passed over into Asia against an adversary whose sex alone +could render her an object of contempt, his presence restored obedience +to the province of Bithynia, already shaken by the arms and intrigues of +Zenobia. Advancing at the head of his legions, he accepted the +submission of Ancyra, and was admitted into Tyana, after an obstinate +siege, by the help of a perfidious citizen. The generous though fierce +temper of Aurelian abandoned the traitor to the rage of the soldiers: a +superstitious reverence induced him to treat with lenity the countrymen +of Apollonius the philosopher. Antioch was deserted on his approach, +till the Emperor, by his salutary edicts, recalled the fugitives, and +granted a general pardon to all who from necessity rather than choice +had been engaged in the service of the Palmyrenian Queen. The unexpected +mildness of such a conduct reconciled the minds of the Syrians, and as +far as the gates of Emesa the wishes of the people seconded the terror +of his arms. + +Zenobia would have ill deserved her reputation, had she indolently +permitted the Emperor of the West to approach within a hundred miles of +her capital. The fate of the East was decided in two great battles, so +similar in almost every circumstance that we can scarcely distinguish +them from each other, except by observing that the first was fought near +Antioch and the second near Emesa. In both the Queen of Palmyra animated +the armies by her presence, and devolved the execution of her orders on +Zabdas, who had already signalized his military talents by the conquest +of Egypt. The numerous forces of Zenobia consisted for the most part of +light archers, and of heavy cavalry clothed in complete steel. The +Moorish and Illyrian horse of Aurelian were unable to sustain the +ponderous charge of their antagonists. They fled in real or affected +disorder, engaged the Palmyrenians in a laborious pursuit, harassed them +by a desultory combat, and at length discomfited this impenetrable but +unwieldy body of cavalry. The light infantry, in the mean time, when +they had exhausted their quivers, remaining without protection against a +closer onset, exposed their naked sides to the swords of the legions. +Aurelian had chosen these veteran troops, who were usually stationed on +the Upper Danube, and whose valor had been severely tried in the +Alemannic war. After the defeat of Emesa, Zenobia found it impossible to +collect a third army. As far as the frontier of Egypt, the nations +subject to her empire had joined the standard of the conqueror, who +detached Probus, the bravest of his generals, to possess himself of the +Egyptian provinces. Palmyra was the last resource of the widow of +Odenathus. She retired within the walls of her capital, made every +preparation for a vigorous resistance, and declared, with the +intrepidity of a heroine, that the last moment of her reign and of her +life should be the same. + +Amid the barren deserts of Arabia, a few cultivated spots rise like +islands out of the sandy ocean. Even the name of Tadmor, or Palmyra, by +its signification in the Syriac as well as in the Latin language, +denoted the multitude of palm-trees which afforded shade and verdure to +that temperate region. The air was pure, and the soil, watered by some +invaluable springs, was capable of producing fruits as well as corn. +A place possessed of such singular advantages, and situated at a +convenient distance between the Gulf of Persia and the Mediterranean,[C] +was soon frequented by the caravans which conveyed to the nations of +Europe a considerable part of the rich commodities of India. Palmyra +insensibly increased into an opulent and independent city, and +connecting the Roman and the Parthian monarchies by the mutual benefits +of commerce, was suffered to observe a humble neutrality, till at length +after the victories of Trajan the little republic sunk into the bosom of +Rome, and flourished more than one hundred and fifty years in the +subordinate though honorable rank of a colony. It was during that +peaceful period, if we may judge from a few remaining inscriptions, that +the wealthy Palmyrenians constructed those temples, palaces, and +porticos of Grecian architecture whose ruins, scattered over an extent +of several miles, have deserved the curiosity of our travelers. The +elevation of Odenathus and Zenobia appeared to reflect new splendor on +their country, and Palmyra for a while stood forth the rival of Rome: +but the competition was fatal, and ages of prosperity were sacrificed to +a moment of glory. + + [C] Five hundred and thirty-seven miles from Seleucia, two + hundred and three from the nearest coast of Syria, according + to Pliny. + +In his march over the sandy desert between Emesa and Palmyra, the +Emperor Aurelian was perpetually harassed by the Arabs; nor could he +always defend his army, and especially his baggage, from those flying +troops of active and daring robbers who watched the moment of surprise +and eluded the slow pursuit of the legions. The siege of Palmyra was an +object far more difficult and important, and the Emperor, who with +incessant vigor pressed the attacks in person, was himself wounded with +a dart. "The Roman people," says Aurelian, in an original letter, "speak +with contempt of the war which I am waging against a woman. They are +ignorant both of the character and of the power of Zenobia. It is +impossible to enumerate her warlike preparations of stones, of arrows, +and of every species of missile weapons. Every part of the walls is +provided with two or three _balistae_, and artificial fires are thrown +from her military engines. The fear of punishment has armed her with a +desperate courage. Yet still I trust in the protecting deities of Rome, +who have hitherto been favorable to all my undertakings." Doubtful, +however, of the protection of the gods and of the event of the siege, +Aurelian judged it more prudent to offer terms of an advantageous +capitulation: to the Queen, a splendid retreat; to the citizens, their +ancient privileges. His proposals were obstinately rejected, and the +refusal was accompanied with insult. + +The firmness of Zenobia was supported by the hope that in a very short +time famine would compel the Roman army to repass the desert, and by the +reasonable expectation that the kings of the East, and particularly the +Persian monarch, would arm in the defense of their most natural ally. +But fortune and the perseverance of Aurelian overcame every obstacle. +The death of Sapor, which happened about this time, distracted the +counsels of Persia, and the inconsiderable succors that attempted to +relieve Palmyra were easily intercepted either by the arms or the +liberality of the Emperor. From every part of Syria a regular succession +of convoys safely arrived in the camp, which was increased by the return +of Probus with his victorious troops from the conquest of Egypt. It was +then that Zenobia resolved to fly. She mounted the fleetest of her +dromedaries, and had already reached the banks of the Euphrates, about +sixty miles from Palmyra, when she was overtaken by the pursuit of +Aurelian's light horse, seized, and brought back a captive to the feet +of the Emperor. Her capital soon afterwards surrendered, and was treated +with unexpected lenity. The arms, horses, and camels, with an immense +treasure of gold, silver, silk, and precious stones, were all delivered +to the conqueror, who, leaving only a garrison of six hundred archers, +returned to Emesa and employed some time in the distribution of rewards +and punishments at the end of so memorable a war, which restored to the +obedience of Rome those provinces that had renounced their allegiance +since the captivity of Valerian. + +When the Syrian Queen was brought into the presence of Aurelian he +sternly asked her, How she had presumed to rise in arms against the +emperors of Rome! The answer of Zenobia was a prudent mixture of respect +and firmness: "Because I disdained to consider as Roman emperors an +Aureolus or a Gallienus. You alone I acknowledge as my conqueror and my +sovereign." But as female fortitude is commonly artificial, so it is +seldom steady or consistent. The courage of Zenobia deserted her in the +hour of trial; she trembled at the angry clamors of the soldiers, who +called aloud for her immediate execution, forgot the generous despair of +Cleopatra which she had proposed as her model, and ignominiously +purchased life by the sacrifice of her fame and her friends. It was to +their counsels, which governed the weakness of her sex, that she imputed +the guilt of her obstinate resistance; it was on their heads that she +directed the vengeance of the cruel Aurelian. The fame of Longinus, who +was included among the numerous and perhaps innocent victims of her +fear, will survive that of the Queen who betrayed or the tyrant who +condemned him. Genius and learning were incapable of moving a fierce +unlettered soldier, but they had served to elevate and harmonize the +soul of Longinus. Without uttering a complaint he calmly followed the +executioner, pitying his unhappy mistress, and bestowing comfort on his +afflicted friends.... + +But, however in the treatment of his unfortunate rivals Aurelian might +indulge his pride, he behaved towards them with a generous clemency +which was seldom exercised by the ancient conquerors. Princes who +without success had defended their throne or freedom, were frequently +strangled in prison as soon as the triumphal pomp ascended the Capitol. +These usurpers, whom their defeat had convicted of the crime of treason, +were permitted to spend their lives in affluence and honorable repose. +The Emperor presented Zenobia with an elegant villa at Tibur, or Tivoli, +about twenty miles from the capital; the Syrian queen insensibly sunk +into a Roman matron, her daughters married into noble families, and her +race was not yet extinct in the fifth century. + + + +FOUNDATION OF CONSTANTINOPLE + + +We are at present qualified to view the advantageous position of +Constantinople, which appears to have been formed by nature for the +centre and capital of a great monarchy. Situated in the forty-first +degree of latitude, the imperial city commanded from her seven hills the +opposite shores of Europe and Asia; the climate was healthy and +temperate, the soil fertile, the harbor secure and capacious; and the +approach on the side of the continent was of small extent and easy +defense. The Bosphorus and the Hellespont may be considered as the two +gates of Constantinople; and the prince who possessed those important +passages could always shut them against a naval enemy and open them to +the fleets of commerce. The preservation of the eastern provinces may in +some degree be ascribed to the policy of Constantine, as the barbarians +of the Euxine, who in the preceding age had poured their armaments into +the heart of the Mediterranean, soon desisted from the exercise of +piracy, and despaired of forcing this insurmountable barrier. When the +gates of the Hellespont and Bosphorus were shut, the capital still +enjoyed within their spacious inclosure every production which could +supply the wants or gratify the luxury of its numerous inhabitants. The +sea-coasts of Thrace and Bithynia, which languish under the weight of +Turkish oppression, still exhibit a rich prospect of vineyards, of +gardens, and of plentiful harvests; and the Propontis has ever been +renowned for an inexhaustible store of the most exquisite fish, that are +taken in their stated seasons without skill and almost without labor. +But when the passages of the straits were thrown open for trade, they +alternately admitted the natural and artificial riches of the North and +South, of the Euxine and of the Mediterranean. Whatever rude commodities +were collected in the forests of Germany and Scythia, as far as the +sources of the Tanais and the Borysthenes; whatsoever was manufactured +by the skill of Europe or Asia; the corn of Egypt, and the gems and +spices of the farthest India, were brought by the varying winds into the +port of Constantinople, which for many ages attracted the commerce of +the ancient world. + +The prospect of beauty, of safety, and of wealth, united in a single +spot, was sufficient to justify the choice of Constantine. But as some +decent mixture of prodigy and fable has in every age been supposed to +reflect a becoming majesty on the origin of great cities, the Emperor +was desirous of ascribing his resolution, not so much to the uncertain +counsels of human policy as to the infallible and eternal decrees of +Divine wisdom. In one of his laws he has been careful to instruct +posterity that in obedience to the commands of God he laid the +everlasting foundations of Constantinople: and though he has not +condescended to relate in what manner the celestial inspiration was +communicated to his mind, the defect of his modest silence has been +liberally supplied by the ingenuity of succeeding writers, who describe +the nocturnal vision which appeared to the fancy of Constantine as he +slept within the walls of Byzantium. The tutelar genius of the city, a +venerable matron sinking under the weight of years and infirmities, was +suddenly transformed into a blooming maid, whom his own hands adorned +with all the symbols of imperial greatness. The monarch awoke, +interpreted the auspicious omen, and obeyed without hesitation the will +of Heaven. The day which gave birth to a city or colony was celebrated +by the Romans with such ceremonies as had been ordained by a generous +superstition; and though Constantine might omit some rites which savored +too strongly of their pagan origin, yet he was anxious to leave a deep +impression of hope and respect on the minds of the spectators. On foot, +with a lance in his hand, the Emperor himself led the solemn procession, +and directed the line which was traced as the boundary of the destined +capital; till the growing circumference was observed with astonishment +by the assistants, who at length ventured to observe that he had already +exceeded the most ample measure of a great city. "I shall still +advance," replied Constantine, "till HE, the invisible guide who marches +before me, thinks proper to stop." Without presuming to investigate the +nature or motives of this extraordinary conductor, we shall content +ourselves with the more humble task of describing the extent and limits +of Constantinople. + +In the actual state of the city, the palace and gardens of the Seraglio +occupy the eastern promontory, the first of the seven hills, and cover +about one hundred and fifty acres of our own measure. The seat of +Turkish jealousy and despotism is erected on the foundations of a +Grecian republic; but it may be supposed that the Byzantines were +tempted by the conveniency of the harbor to extend their habitations on +that side beyond the modern limits of the Seraglio. The new walls of +Constantine stretched from the port to the Propontis across the enlarged +breadth of the triangle, at a distance of fifteen stadia from the +ancient fortification; and with the city of Byzantium they inclosed five +of the seven hills which, to the eyes of those who approach +Constantinople, appear to rise above each other in beautiful order. +About a century after the death of the founder, the new buildings, +extending on one side up the harbor and on the other along the +Propontis, already covered the narrow ridge of the sixth and the broad +summit of the seventh hill. The necessity of protecting those suburbs +from the incessant inroads of the barbarians engaged the younger +Theodosius to surround his capital with an adequate and permanent +inclosure of walls. From the eastern promontory to the Golden Gate, the +extreme length of Constantinople was about three Roman miles; the +circumference measured between ten and eleven, and the surface might be +computed as equal to about two thousand English acres. It is impossible +to justify the vain and credulous exaggerations of modern travelers, who +have sometimes stretched the limits of Constantinople over the adjacent +villages of the European, and even of the Asiatic coast. But the suburbs +of Pera and Galata, though situate beyond the harbor, may deserve to be +considered as a part of the city; and this addition may perhaps +authorize the measure of a Byzantine historian, who assigns sixteen +Greek (about fourteen Roman) miles for the circumference of his native +city. Such an extent may not seem unworthy of an imperial residence. Yet +Constantinople must yield to Babylon and Thebes, to ancient Rome, to +London, and even to Paris. + +The master of the Roman world, who aspired to erect an eternal monument +of the glories of his reign, could employ in the prosecution of that +great work the wealth, the labor, and all that yet remained of the +genius of obedient millions. Some estimate may be formed of the expense +bestowed with imperial liberality on the foundation of Constantinople, +by the allowance of about two millions five hundred thousand pounds for +the construction of the walls, the porticos, and the aqueducts. The +forests that overshadowed the shores of the Euxine, and the celebrated +quarries of white marble in the little island of Proconnesus, supplied +an inexhaustible stock of materials, ready to be conveyed, by the +convenience of a short water carriage, to the harbor of Byzantium. A +multitude of laborers and artificers urged the conclusion of the work +with incessant toil; but the impatience of Constantine soon discovered +that, in the decline of the arts, the skill as well as numbers of his +architects bore a very unequal proportion to the greatness of his +designs. The magistrates of the most distant provinces were therefore +directed to institute schools, to appoint professors, and by the hopes +of rewards and privileges to engage in the study and practice of +architecture a sufficient number of ingenious youths who had received a +liberal education. The buildings of the new city were executed by such +artificers as the reign of Constantine could afford; but they were +decorated by the hands of the most celebrated masters of the age of +Pericles and Alexander. To revive the genius of Phidias and Lysippus +surpassed indeed the power of a Roman emperor; but the immortal +productions which they had bequeathed to posterity were exposed without +defense to the rapacious vanity of a despot. By his commands the cities +of Greece and Asia were despoiled of their most valuable ornaments. The +trophies of memorable wars, the objects of religious veneration, the +most finished statues of the gods and heroes, of the sages and poets of +ancient times, contributed to the splendid triumph of Constantinople, +and gave occasion to the remark of the historian Cedrenus, who observes +with some enthusiasm that nothing seemed wanting except the souls of the +illustrious men whom these admirable monuments were intended to +represent. But it is not in the city of Constantine, nor in the +declining period of an empire, when the human mind was depressed by +civil and religious slavery, that we should seek for the souls of Homer +and of Demosthenes. + +During the siege of Byzantium, the conqueror had pitched his tent on the +commanding eminence of the second hill. To perpetuate the memory of his +success, he chose the same advantageous position for the principal +Forum, which appears to have been of a circular or rather elliptical +form. The two opposite entrances formed triumphal arches; the porticos +which inclosed it on every side were filled with statues; and the +centre of the Forum was occupied by a lofty column, of which a mutilated +fragment is now degraded by the appellation of the _burnt pillar_. This +column was erected on a pedestal of white marble twenty feet high, and +was composed of ten pieces of porphyry, each of which measured about ten +feet in height and about thirty-three in circumference. On the summit of +the pillar, above one hundred and twenty feet from the ground, stood the +colossal statue of Apollo. It was of bronze, had been transported either +from Athens or from a town of Phrygia, and was supposed to be the work +of Phidias. The artist had represented the god of day, or as it was +afterwards interpreted, the Emperor Constantine himself with a sceptre +in his right hand, the globe of the world in his left, and a crown of +rays glittering on his head. The Circus, or Hippodrome, was a stately +building about four hundred paces in length and one hundred in breadth. +The space between the two _metae_ or goals was filled with statues and +obelisks; and we may still remark a very singular fragment of +antiquity--the bodies of three serpents twisted into one pillar of +brass. Their triple heads had once supported the golden tripod which, +after the defeat of Xerxes, was consecrated in the temple of Delphi by +the victorious Greeks. The beauty of the Hippodrome has been long since +defaced by the rude hands of the Turkish conquerors; but under the +similar appellation of Atmeidan, it still serves as a place of exercise +for their horses. From the throne whence the Emperor viewed the +Circensian games, a winding staircase descended to the palace: a +magnificent edifice which scarcely yielded to the residence of Rome +itself, and which, together with the dependent courts, gardens, and +porticos, covered a considerable extent of ground upon the banks of +the Propontis between the Hippodrome and the church of St. Sophia. +We might likewise celebrate the baths, which still retained the name +of Zeuxippus, after they had been enriched by the munificence of +Constantine with lofty columns, various marbles, and above threescore +statues of bronze. But we should deviate from the design of this history +if we attempted minutely to describe the different buildings or quarters +of the city. It may be sufficient to observe that whatever could adorn +the dignity of a great capital, or contribute to the benefit or pleasure +of its numerous inhabitants, was contained within the walls of +Constantinople. A particular description, composed about a century after +its foundation, enumerates a capitol or school of learning, a circus, +two theatres, eight public and one hundred and fifty-three private +baths, fifty-two porticos, five granaries, eight aqueducts or reservoirs +of water, four spacious halls for the meetings of the senate or courts +of justice, fourteen churches, fourteen palaces, and four thousand three +hundred and eighty-eight houses which for their size or beauty deserved +to be distinguished from the multitude of plebeian habitations. + +The populousness of his favored city was the next and most serious +object of the attention of its founder. In the dark ages which succeeded +the translation of the empire, the remote and the immediate consequences +of that memorable event were strangely confounded by the vanity of the +Greeks and the credulity of the Latins. It was asserted and believed +that all the noble families of Rome, the Senate, and the equestrian +order, with their innumerable attendants, had followed their Emperor to +the banks of the Propontis; that a spurious race of strangers and +plebeians was left to possess the solitude of the ancient capital; and +that the lands of Italy, long since converted into gardens, were at once +deprived of cultivation and inhabitants. In the course of this history +such exaggerations will be reduced to their just value: yet, since the +growth of Constantinople cannot be ascribed to the general increase of +mankind and of industry, it must be admitted that this artificial colony +was raised at the expense of the ancient cities of the empire. Many +opulent senators of Rome and of the eastern provinces were probably +invited by Constantine to adopt for their country the fortunate spot +which he had chosen for his own residence. The invitations of a master +are scarcely to be distinguished from commands; and the liberality of +the Emperor obtained a ready and cheerful obedience. He bestowed on his +favorites the palaces which he had built in the several quarters of the +city, assigned them lands and pensions for the support of their dignity, +and alienated the demesnes of Pontus and Asia to grant hereditary +estates by the easy tenure of maintaining a house in the capital. But +these encouragements and obligations soon became superfluous, and were +gradually abolished. Wherever the seat of government is fixed, a +considerable part of the public revenue will be expended by the prince +himself, by his ministers, by the officers of justice, and by the +domestics of the palace. The most wealthy of the provincials will be +attracted by the powerful motives of interest and duty, of amusement +and curiosity. A third and more numerous class of inhabitants will +insensibly be formed, of servants, of artificers, and of merchants, who +derive their subsistence from their own labor and from the wants or +luxury of the superior ranks. In less than a century Constantinople +disputed with Rome itself the pre-eminence of riches and numbers. New +piles of buildings, crowded together with too little regard to health or +convenience, scarcely allowed the intervals of narrow streets for the +perpetual throng of men, of horses, and of carriages. The allotted space +of ground was insufficient to contain the increasing people; and the +additional foundations, which on either side were advanced into the sea, +might alone have composed a very considerable city. + +The frequent and regular distributions of wine and oil, of corn or +bread, of money or provisions, had almost exempted the poorer citizens +of Rome from the necessity of labor. The magnificence of the first +Caesars was in some measure imitated by the founder of Constantinople; +but his liberality, however it might excite the applause of the people, +has incurred the censure of posterity. A nation of legislators and +conquerors might assert their claim to the harvests of Africa, which had +been purchased with their blood; and it was artfully contrived by +Augustus that in the enjoyment of plenty the Romans should lose the +memory of freedom. But the prodigality of Constantine could not be +excused by any consideration either of public or private interest; and +the annual tribute of corn imposed upon Egypt for the benefit of his new +capital was applied to feed a lazy and insolent populace at the expense +of the husbandmen of an industrious province. Some other regulations of +this Emperor are less liable to blame, but they are less deserving of +notice. He divided Constantinople into fourteen regions or quarters, +dignified the public council with the appellation of senate, +communicated to the citizens the privileges of Italy, and bestowed on +the rising city the title of colony, the first and most favored daughter +of ancient Rome. The venerable parent still maintained the legal and +acknowledged supremacy which was due to her age, her dignity, and to the +remembrance of her former greatness. + +As Constantine urged the progress of the work with the impatience of a +lover, the walls, the porticos, and the principal edifices were +completed in a few years, or according to another account, in a few +months; but this extraordinary diligence should excite the less +admiration, since many of the buildings were finished in so hasty and +imperfect a manner that under the succeeding reign they were preserved +with difficulty from impending ruin. But while they displayed the vigor +and freshness of youth, the founder prepared to celebrate the dedication +of his city. The games and largesses which crowned the pomp of this +memorable festival may easily be supposed; but there is one circumstance +of a more singular and permanent nature which ought not entirely to be +overlooked. As often as the birthday of the city returned, the statue of +Constantine, framed by his order, of gilt wood, and bearing in its right +hand a small image of the genius of the place, was erected on a +triumphal car. The guards, carrying white tapers and clothed in their +richest apparel, accompanied the solemn procession as it moved through +the Hippodrome. When it was opposite to the throne of the reigning +emperor, he rose from his seat, and with grateful reverence adored the +memory of his predecessor. At the festival of the dedication an edict, +engraved on a column of marble, bestowed the title of SECOND or NEW ROME +on the city of Constantine. But the name of Constantinople has prevailed +over that honorable epithet, and after the revolution of fourteen +centuries still perpetuates the fame of its author. + + + +CHARACTER OF CONSTANTINE + + +The character of the prince who removed the seat of empire, and +introduced such important changes into the civil and religious +constitution of his country, has fixed the attention and divided the +opinions of mankind. By the grateful zeal of the Christians, the +deliverer of the Church has been decorated with every attribute of a +hero and even of a saint, while the discontent of the vanquished party +has compared Constantine to the most abhorred of those tyrants who by +their vice and weakness dishonored the imperial purple. The same +passions have in some degree been perpetuated to succeeding generations, +and the character of Constantine is considered, even in the present age, +as an object either of satire or of panegyric. By the impartial union of +those defects which are confessed by his warmest admirers, and of those +virtues which are acknowledged by his most implacable enemies, we might +hope to delineate a just portrait of that extraordinary man which the +truth and candor of history should adopt without a blush. But it would +soon appear, that the vain attempt to blend such discordant colors and +to reconcile such inconsistent qualities must produce a figure monstrous +rather than human, unless it is viewed in its proper and distinct +lights, by a careful separation of the different periods of the reign of +Constantine. + +The person as well as the mind of Constantine had been enriched by +nature with her choicest endowments. His stature was lofty, his +countenance majestic, his deportment graceful, his strength and activity +were displayed in every manly exercise, and from his earliest youth to a +very advanced season of life he preserved the vigor of his constitution +by a strict adherence to the domestic virtues of chastity and +temperance. He delighted in the social intercourse of familiar +conversation; and though he might sometimes indulge his disposition to +raillery with less reserve than was required by the severe dignity of +his station, the courtesy and liberality of his manners gained the +hearts of all who approached him. The sincerity of his friendship has +been suspected; yet he showed on some occasions that he was not +incapable of a warm and lasting attachment. The disadvantage of an +illiterate education had not prevented him from forming a just estimate +of the value of learning; and the arts and sciences derived some +encouragement from the munificent protection of Constantine. In the +dispatch of business, his diligence was indefatigable; and the active +powers of his mind were almost continually exercised in reading, +writing, or meditating, in giving audience to ambassadors, and in +examining the complaints of his subjects. Even those who censured the +propriety of his measures were compelled to acknowledge that he +possessed magnanimity to conceive and patience to execute the most +arduous designs, without being checked either by the prejudices of +education or by the clamors of the multitude. In the field he infused +his own intrepid spirit into the troops, whom he conducted with the +talents of a consummate general; and to his abilities, rather than to +his fortune, we may ascribe the signal victories which he obtained over +the foreign and domestic foes of the republic. He loved glory as the +reward, perhaps as the motive, of his labors. The boundless ambition +which, from the moment of his accepting the purple at York, appears as +the ruling passion of his soul, may be justified by the dangers of his +own situation, by the character of his rivals, by the consciousness of +superior merit, and by the prospect that his success would enable him to +restore peace and order to the distracted empire. In his civil wars +against Maxentius and Licinius he had engaged on his side the +inclinations of the people, who compared the undissembled vices of those +tyrants with the spirit of wisdom and justice which seemed to direct the +general tenor of the administration of Constantine. + +Had Constantine fallen on the banks of the Tiber, or even in the plains +of Hadrianople, such is the character which, with a few exceptions, he +might have transmitted to posterity. But the conclusion of his reign +(according to the moderate and indeed tender sentence of a writer of the +same age) degraded him from the rank which he had acquired among the +most deserving of the Roman princes. In the life of Augustus we behold +the tyrant of the republic converted, almost by imperceptible degrees, +into the father of his country and of human kind. In that of Constantine +we may contemplate a hero who had so long inspired his subjects with +love and his enemies with terror, degenerating into a cruel and +dissolute monarch, corrupted by his fortune or raised by conquest above +the necessity of dissimulation. The general peace which he maintained +during the last fourteen years of his reign was a period of apparent +splendor rather than of real prosperity; and the old age of Constantine +was disgraced by the opposite yet reconcilable vices of rapaciousness +and prodigality. The accumulated treasures found in the palaces of +Maxentius and Licinius were lavishly consumed; the various innovations +introduced by the conqueror were attended with an increasing expense; +the cost of his buildings, his court, and his festivals required an +immediate and plentiful supply; and the oppression of the people was the +only fund which could support the magnificence of the sovereign. His +unworthy favorites, enriched by the boundless liberality of their +master, usurped with impunity the privilege of rapine and corruption. A +secret but universal decay was felt in every part of the public +administration; and the Emperor himself, though he still retained the +obedience, gradually lost the esteem of his subjects. The dress and +manners which towards the decline of life he chose to affect, served +only to degrade him in the eyes of mankind. The Asiatic pomp which had +been adopted by the pride of Diocletian assumed an air of softness and +effeminacy in the person of Constantine. He is represented with false +hair of various colors, laboriously arranged by the skillful artists of +the times; a diadem of a new and more expensive fashion; a profusion of +gems and pearls, of collars and bracelets, and a variegated flowing robe +of silk, most curiously embroidered with flowers of gold. In such +apparel, scarcely to be excused by the youth and folly of Elagabulus, we +are at a loss to discover the wisdom of an aged monarch and the +simplicity of a Roman veteran. A mind thus relaxed by prosperity and +indulgence was incapable of rising to that magnanimity which disdains +suspicion and dares to forgive. The deaths of Maximian and Licinius may +perhaps be justified by the maxims of policy as they are taught in the +schools of tyrants; but an impartial narrative of the executions, or +rather murders, which sullied the declining age of Constantine, will +suggest to our most candid thoughts the idea of a prince who could +sacrifice without reluctance the laws of justice and the feelings of +nature, to the dictates either of his passions or of his interest. + +The same fortune which so invariably followed the standard of +Constantine seemed to secure the hopes and comforts of his domestic +life. Those among his predecessors who had enjoyed the longest and most +prosperous reigns, Augustus, Trajan, and Diocletian, had been +disappointed of posterity; and the frequent revolutions had never +allowed sufficient time for any imperial family to grow up and multiply +under the shade of the purple. But the royalty of the Flavian line, +which had been first ennobled by the Gothic Claudius, descended through +several generations; and Constantine himself derived from his royal +father the hereditary honors which he transmitted to his children. The +Emperor had been twice married. Minervina, the obscure but lawful object +of his youthful attachment, had left him only one son, who was called +Crispus. By Fausta, the daughter of Maximian, he had three daughters, +and three sons known by the kindred names of Constantine, Constantius, +and Constans. The unambitious brothers of the great Constantine, Julius +Constantius, Dalmatius, and Hannibalianus, were permitted to enjoy the +most honorable rank and the most affluent fortune that could be +consistent with a private station. The youngest of the three lived +without a name and died without posterity. His two elder brothers +obtained in marriage the daughters of wealthy senators, and propagated +new branches of the imperial race. Gallus and Julian afterwards became +the most illustrious of the children of Julius Constantius the +_Patrician_. The two sons of Dalmatius, who had been decorated with the +vain title of _censor_, were named Dalmatius and Hannibalianus. The two +sisters of the great Constantine, Anastasia and Eutropia, were bestowed +on Optatus and Nepotianus, two senators of noble birth and of consular +dignity. His third sister, Constantia, was distinguished by her +pre-eminence of greatness and of misery. She remained the widow of the +vanquished Licinius; and it was by her entreaties that an innocent boy, +the offspring of their marriage, preserved for some time his life, the +title of Caesar, and a precarious hope of the succession. Besides the +females and the allies of the Flavian house, ten or twelve males to whom +the language of modern courts would apply the title of princes of the +blood, seemed, according to the order of their birth, to be destined +either to inherit or to support the throne of Constantine. But in less +than thirty years this numerous and increasing family was reduced to the +persons of Constantius and Julian, who alone had survived a series of +crimes and calamities such as the tragic poets have deplored in the +devoted lines of Pelops and of Cadmus. + + + +DEATH OF JULIAN + + +While Julian struggled with the almost insuperable difficulties of his +situation, the silent hours of the night were still devoted to study and +contemplation. Whenever he closed his eyes in short and interrupted +slumbers, his mind was agitated with painful anxiety; nor can it be +thought surprising that the Genius of the Empire should once more appear +before him, covering with a funeral veil his head and his horn of +abundance, and slowly retiring from the imperial tent. The monarch +started from his couch, and stepping forth to refresh his wearied +spirits with the coolness of the midnight air, he beheld a fiery meteor +which shot athwart the sky and suddenly vanished. Julian was convinced +that he had seen the menacing countenance of the god of war; the council +which he summoned of Tuscan Haruspices unanimously pronounced that he +should abstain from action; but on this occasion necessity and reason +were more prevalent than superstition, and the trumpets sounded at the +break of day. The army marched through a hilly country, and the hills +had been secretly occupied by the Persians. Julian led the van with the +skill and attention of a consummate general; he was alarmed by the +intelligence that his rear was suddenly attacked. The heat of the +weather had tempted him to lay aside his cuirass; but he snatched a +shield from one of his attendants and hastened with a sufficient +reinforcement to the relief of the rear guard. A similar danger recalled +the intrepid prince to the defense of the front; and as he galloped +between the columns, the centre of the left was attacked and almost +overpowered by a furious charge of the Persian cavalry and elephants. +This huge body was soon defeated by the well-timed evolution of the +light infantry, who aimed their weapons, with dexterity and effect, +against the backs of the horsemen and the legs of the elephants. The +Barbarians fled; and Julian, who was foremost in every danger, animated +the pursuit with his voice and gestures. His trembling guards, scattered +and oppressed by the disorderly throng of friends and enemies, reminded +their fearless sovereign that he was without armor, and conjured him to +decline the fall of the impending ruin. As they exclaimed, a cloud of +darts and arrows was discharged from the flying squadrons; and a +javelin, after razing the skin of his arm, transpierced the ribs and +fixed in the inferior part of the liver. Julian attempted to draw the +deadly weapon from his side, but his fingers were cut by the sharpness +of the steel, and he fell senseless from his horse. His guards flew to +his relief, and the wounded Emperor was gently raised from the ground +and conveyed out of the tumult of the battle into an adjacent tent. The +report of the melancholy event passed from rank to rank; but the grief +of the Romans inspired them with invincible valor and the desire of +revenge. The bloody and obstinate conflict was maintained by the two +armies till they were separated by the total darkness of the night. The +Persians derived some honor from the advantage which they obtained +against the left wing, where Anatolius, master of the offices, was +slain, and the praefect Sallust very narrowly escaped. But the event of +the day was adverse to the Barbarians. They abandoned the field, their +two generals Meranes and Nohordates, fifty nobles or satraps, and a +multitude of their bravest soldiers; and the success of the Romans, if +Julian had survived, might have been improved into a decisive and useful +victory. + +The first words that Julian uttered after his recovery from the fainting +fit into which he had been thrown by loss of blood, were expressive of +his martial spirit. He called for his horse and arms, and was impatient +to rush into the battle. His remaining strength was exhausted by the +painful effort, and the surgeons who examined his wound discovered the +symptoms of approaching death. He employed the awful moments with the +firm temper of a hero and a sage; the philosophers who had accompanied +him in this fatal expedition compared the tent of Julian with the prison +of Socrates; and the spectators whom duty or friendship or curiosity had +assembled round his couch listened with respectful grief to the funeral +oration of their dying emperor:--"Friends and fellow soldiers, the +seasonable period of my departure is now arrived, and I discharge, with +the cheerfulness of a ready debtor, the demands of nature. I have +learned from philosophy how much the soul is more excellent than the +body; and that the separation of the nobler substance should be the +subject of joy rather than of affliction. I have learned from religion +that an earthly death has often been the reward of piety; and I accept, +as a favor of the gods, the mortal stroke that secures me from the +danger of disgracing a character which has hitherto been supported by +virtue and fortitude. I die without remorse, as I have lived without +guilt. I am pleased to reflect on the innocence of my private life; and +I can affirm with confidence that the supreme authority, that emanation +of the Divine power, has been preserved in my hands pure and immaculate. +Detesting the corrupt and destructive maxims of despotism, I have +considered the happiness of the people as the end of government. +Submitting my actions to the laws of prudence, of justice, and of +moderation, I have trusted the event to the care of Providence. Peace +was the object of my counsels as long as peace was consistent with the +public welfare; but when the imperious voice of my country summoned me +to arms, I exposed my person to the dangers of war with the clear +foreknowledge (which I had acquired from the art of divination) that I +was destined to fall by the sword. I now offer my tribute of gratitude +to the Eternal Being, who has not suffered me to perish by the cruelty +of a tyrant, by the secret dagger of conspiracy, or by the slow tortures +of lingering disease. He has given me, in the midst of an honorable +career, a splendid and glorious departure from this world; and I hold it +equally absurd, equally base, to solicit or to decline the stroke of +fate. Thus much I have attempted to say; but my strength fails me, and I +feel the approach of death. I shall cautiously refrain from any word +that may tend to influence your suffrages in the election of an emperor. +My choice might be imprudent or injudicious; and if it should not be +ratified by the consent of the army, it might be fatal to the person +whom I should recommend. I shall only, as a good citizen, express my +hopes that the Romans may be blessed with the government of a virtuous +sovereign." After this discourse, which Julian pronounced in a firm and +gentle tone of voice, he distributed by a military testament the remains +of his private fortune; and making some inquiry why Anatolius was not +present, he understood from the answer of Sallust that Anatolius was +killed, and bewailed with amiable inconsistency the loss of his friend. +At the same time he reproved the immoderate grief of the spectators, and +conjured them not to disgrace by unmanly tears the fate of a prince who +in a few moments would be united with heaven and with the stars. The +spectators were silent; and Julian entered into a metaphysical argument +with the philosophers Priscus and Maximus on the nature of the soul. The +efforts which he made, of mind as well as body, most probably hastened +his death. His wound began to bleed with fresh violence; his respiration +was embarrassed by the swelling of the veins; he called for a draught of +cold water, and as soon as he had drunk it expired without pain, about +the hour of midnight. Such was the end of that extraordinary man, in the +thirty-second year of his age, after a reign of one year and about eight +months from the death of Constantius. In his last moments he displayed, +perhaps with some ostentation, the love of virtue and of fame which had +been the ruling passions of his life. + + + +THE FALL OF ROME + + +At the hour of midnight the Salarian gate was silently opened, and the +inhabitants were awakened by the tremendous sound of the Gothic trumpet. +Eleven hundred and sixty-three years after the foundation of Rome, the +imperial city which had subdued and civilized so considerable a part of +mankind was delivered to the licentious fury of the tribes of Germany +and Scythia. + +The proclamation of Alaric, when he forced his entrance into a +vanquished city, discovered however some regard for the laws of +humanity and religion. He encouraged his troops boldly to seize the +rewards of valor, and to enrich themselves with the spoils of a wealthy +and effeminate people; but he exhorted them at the same time to spare +the lives of the unresisting citizens, and to respect the churches of +the apostles St. Peter and St. Paul as holy and inviolable sanctuaries. +Amidst the horrors of a nocturnal tumult, several of the Christian Goths +displayed the fervor of a recent conversion; and some instances of their +uncommon piety and moderation are related, and perhaps adorned, by the +zeal of ecclesiastical writers. While the Barbarians roamed through the +city in quest of prey, the humble dwelling of an aged virgin who had +devoted her life to the service of the altar was forced open by one of +the powerful Goths. He immediately demanded, though in civil language, +all the gold and silver in her possession; and was astonished at the +readiness with which she conducted him to a splendid hoard of massy +plate of the richest materials and the most curious workmanship. The +Barbarian viewed with wonder and delight this valuable acquisition, till +he was interrupted by a serious admonition addressed to him in the +following words: "These," said she, "are the consecrated vessels +belonging to St. Peter; if you presume to touch them, the sacrilegious +deed will remain on your conscience. For my part, I dare not keep what I +am unable to defend." The Gothic captain, struck with reverential awe, +dispatched a messenger to inform the King of the treasure which he had +discovered, and received a peremptory order from Alaric that all the +consecrated plate and ornaments should be transported, without damage or +delay, to the church of the Apostle. From the extremity, perhaps, of the +Quirinal hill, to the distant quarter of the Vatican, a numerous +detachment of Goths, marching in order of battle through the principal +streets, protected with glittering arms the long train of their devout +companions, who bore aloft on their heads the sacred vessels of gold and +silver; and the martial shouts of the Barbarians were mingled with the +sound of religious psalmody. From all the adjacent houses a crowd of +Christians hastened to join this edifying procession; and a multitude of +fugitives, without distinction of age, or rank, or even of sect, had the +good fortune to escape to the secure and hospitable sanctuary of the +Vatican. The learned work 'Concerning the City of God' was professedly +composed by St. Augustine to justify the ways of Providence in the +destruction of the Roman greatness. He celebrates with peculiar +satisfaction this memorable triumph of Christ, and insults his +adversaries by challenging them to produce some similar example of a +town taken by storm, in which the fabulous gods of antiquity had been +able to protect either themselves or their deluded votaries. + +In the sack of Rome, some rare and extraordinary examples of Barbarian +virtue have been deservedly applauded. But the holy precincts of the +Vatican and the Apostolic churches could receive a very small proportion +of the Roman people; many thousand warriors, more especially of the Huns +who served under the standard of Alaric, were strangers to the name, or +at least to the faith, of Christ; and we may suspect without any breach +of charity or candor that in the hour of savage license, when every +passion was inflamed and every restraint was removed, the precepts of +the gospel seldom influenced the behavior of the Gothic Christians. The +writers the best disposed to exaggerate their clemency have freely +confessed that a cruel slaughter was made of the Romans, and that the +streets of the city were filled with dead bodies, which remained without +burial during the general consternation. The despair of the citizens was +sometimes converted into fury; and whenever the Barbarians were provoked +by opposition, they extended the promiscuous massacre to the feeble, the +innocent, and the helpless. The private revenge of forty thousand slaves +was exercised without pity or remorse; and the ignominious lashes which +they had formerly received were washed away in the blood of the guilty +or obnoxious families. The matrons and virgins of Rome were exposed to +injuries more dreadful, in the apprehension of chastity, than death +itself.... + +The want of youth, or beauty, or chastity protected the greatest part of +the Roman women from the danger of a rape. But avarice is an insatiate +and universal passion, since the enjoyment of almost every object that +can afford pleasure to the different tastes and tempers of mankind may +be procured by the possession of wealth. In the pillage of Rome, a just +preference was given to gold and jewels, which contain the greatest +value in the smallest compass and weight; but after these portable +riches had been removed by the more diligent robbers, the palaces of +Rome were rudely stripped of their splendid and costly furniture. The +sideboards of massy plate, and the variegated wardrobes of silk and +purple, were irregularly piled in the wagons that always followed the +march of a Gothic army. The most exquisite works of art were roughly +handled or wantonly destroyed; many a statue was melted for the sake of +the precious materials; and many a vase, in the division of the spoil, +was shivered into fragments by the stroke of a battle-axe. The +acquisition of riches served only to stimulate the avarice of the +rapacious Barbarians, who proceeded by threats, by blows, and by +tortures, to force from their prisoners the confession of hidden +treasure. Visible splendor and expense were alleged as the proof of a +plentiful fortune; the appearance of poverty was imputed to a +parsimonious disposition; and the obstinacy of some misers, who endured +the most cruel torments before they would discover the secret object of +their affection, was fatal to many unhappy wretches, who expired under +the lash for refusing to reveal their imaginary treasures. The edifices +of Rome, though the damage has been much exaggerated, received some +injury from the violence of the Goths. At their entrance through the +Salarian gate, they fired the adjacent houses to guide their march and +to distract the attention of the citizens; the flames, which encountered +no obstacle in the disorder of the night, consumed many private and +public buildings; and the ruins of the palace of Sallust remained, in +the age of Justinian, a stately monument of the Gothic conflagration. +Yet a contemporary historian has observed that fire could scarcely +consume the enormous beams of solid brass, and that the strength of man +was insufficient to subvert the foundations of ancient structures. Some +truth may possibly be concealed in his devout assertion that the wrath +of Heaven supplied the imperfections of hostile rage, and that the proud +Forum of Rome, decorated with the statues of so many gods and heroes, +was leveled in the dust by the stroke of lightning.... + +It was not easy to compute the multitudes who, from an honorable station +and a prosperous future, were suddenly reduced to the miserable +condition of captives and exiles.... The nations who invaded the Roman +empire had driven before them into Italy whole troops of hungry and +affrighted provincials, less apprehensive of servitude than of famine. +The calamities of Rome and Italy dispersed the inhabitants to the most +lonely, the most secure, the most distant places of refuge.... The +Italian fugitives were dispersed through the provinces, along the coast +of Egypt and Asia, as far as Constantinople and Jerusalem; and the +village of Bethlem, the solitary residence of St. Jerom and his female +converts, was crowded with illustrious beggars of either sex and every +age, who excited the public compassion by the remembrance of their past +fortune. This awful catastrophe of Rome filled the astonished empire +with grief and terror. So interesting a contrast of greatness and ruin +disposed the fond credulity of the people to deplore, and even to +exaggerate, the afflictions of the queen of cities. The clergy, who +applied to recent events the lofty metaphors of Oriental prophecy, were +sometimes tempted to confound the destruction of the capital and the +dissolution of the globe. + + + +SILK + + +I need not explain that _silk_ is originally spun from the bowels of a +caterpillar, and that it composes the golden tomb from whence a worm +emerges in the form of a butterfly. Till the reign of Justinian, the +silkworms who feed on the leaves of the white mulberry-tree were +confined to China; those of the pine, the oak, and the ash were common +in the forests both of Asia and Europe: but as their education is more +difficult, and their produce more uncertain, they were generally +neglected, except in the little island of Ceos, near the coast of +Attica. A thin gauze was procured from their webs, and this Cean +manufacture, the invention of a woman, for female use, was long admired +both in the East and at Rome. Whatever suspicions may be raised by the +garments of the Medes and Assyrians, Virgil is the most ancient writer +who expressly mentions the soft wool which was combed from the trees of +the Seres or Chinese; and this natural error, less marvelous than the +truth, was slowly corrected by the knowledge of a valuable insect, the +first artificer of the luxury of nations. That rare and elegant luxury +was censured, in the reign of Tiberius, by the gravest of the Romans; +and Pliny, in affected though forcible language, has condemned the +thirst of gain which explores the last confines of the earth for the +pernicious purpose of exposing to the public eye naked draperies and +transparent matrons. A dress which showed the turn of the limbs, the +color of the skin, might gratify vanity or provoke desire; the silks +which had been closely woven in China were sometimes unraveled by the +Phoenician women, and the precious materials were multiplied by a +looser texture and the intermixture of linen threads. Two hundred years +after the age of Pliny the use of pure or even of mixed silks was +confined to the female sex, till the opulent citizens of Rome and the +provinces were insensibly familiarized with the example of Elagabalus, +the first who, by this effeminate habit, had sullied the dignity of an +emperor and a man. Aurelian complained that a pound of silk was sold at +Rome for twelve ounces of gold; but the supply increased with the +demand, and the price diminished with the supply. If accident or +monopoly sometimes raised the value even above the standard of Aurelian, +the manufacturers of Tyre and Berytus were sometimes compelled, by the +operation of the same causes, to content themselves with a ninth part of +that extravagant rate. A law was thought necessary to discriminate the +dress of comedians from that of senators; and of the silk exported from +its native country the far greater part was consumed by the subjects of +Justinian. They were still more intimately acquainted with a shell-fish +of the Mediterranean, surnamed the silkworm of the sea: the fine wool or +hair by which the mother-of-pearl affixes itself to the rock is now +manufactured for curiosity rather than use; and a robe obtained from the +same singular materials was the gift of the Roman Emperor to the satraps +of Armenia. + +A valuable merchandise of small bulk is capable of defraying the expense +of land carriage; and the caravans traversed the whole latitude of Asia +in two hundred and forty-three days from the Chinese Ocean to the +sea-coast of Syria. Silk was immediately delivered to the Romans by the +Persian merchants who frequented the fairs of Armenia and Nisibis; but +this trade, which in the intervals of truce was oppressed by avarice and +jealousy, was totally interrupted by the long wars of the rival +monarchies. The great king might proudly number Sogdiana, and even +_Serica_, among the provinces of his empire: but his real dominion was +bounded by the Oxus; and his useful intercourse with the Sogdoites +beyond the river depended on the pleasure of their conquerors the white +Huns, and the Turks, who successively reigned over that industrious +people. Yet the most savage dominion has not extirpated the seeds of +agriculture and commerce, in a region which is celebrated as one of the +four gardens of Asia; the cities of Samarcand and Bochara are +advantageously seated for the exchange of its various productions; and +their merchants purchased from the Chinese the raw or manufactured silk +which they transported into Persia for the use of the Roman Empire. In +the vain capital of China, the Sogdian caravans were entertained as the +suppliant embassies of tributary kingdoms; and if they returned in +safety, the bold adventure was rewarded with exorbitant gain. But the +difficult and perilous march from Samarcand to the first town of Shensi +could not be performed in less than sixty, eighty, or one hundred days: +as soon as they had passed the Jaxartes they entered the desert; and the +wandering hordes, unless they are restrained by armies and garrisons, +have always considered the citizen and the traveler as the objects of +lawful rapine. To escape the Tartar robbers and the tyrants of Persia, +the silk caravans explored a more southern road; they traversed the +mountains of Thibet, descended the streams of the Ganges or the Indus, +and patiently expected, in the ports of Guzerat and Malabar, the annual +fleets of the West. But the dangers of the desert were found less +intolerable than toil, hunger, and the loss of time; the attempt was +seldom renewed, and the only European who has passed that unfrequented +way applauds his own diligence, that in nine months after his departure +from Pekin, he reached the mouth of the Indus. The ocean, however, was +open to the free communication of mankind. From the great river to the +tropic of Cancer, the provinces of China were subdued and civilized by +the emperors of the North; they were filled about the time of the +Christian era with cities and men, mulberry-trees and their precious +inhabitants; and if the Chinese, with the knowledge of the compass, had +possessed the genius of the Greeks or Phoenicians, they might have +spread their discoveries over the southern hemisphere. I am not +qualified to examine, and I am not disposed to believe, their distant +voyages to the Persian Gulf or the Cape of Good Hope; but their +ancestors might equal the labors and success of the present race, and +the sphere of their navigation might extend from the Isles of Japan to +the Straits of Malacca,--the pillars, if we may apply that name, of an +Oriental Hercules. Without losing sight of land, they might sail along +the coast to the extreme promontory of Achin, which is annually visited +by ten or twelve ships laden with the productions, the manufactures, and +even the artificers of China; the Island of Sumatra and the opposite +peninsula are faintly delineated as the regions of gold and silver; and +the trading cities named in the geography of Ptolemy may indicate that +this wealth was not solely derived from the mines. The direct interval +between Sumatra and Ceylon is about three hundred leagues: the Chinese +and Indian navigators were conducted by the flight of birds and +periodical winds; and the ocean might be securely traversed in +square-built ships, which instead of iron were sewed together with the +strong thread of the cocoanut. Ceylon, Serendib, or Taprobana, was +divided between two hostile princes; one of whom possessed the +mountains, the elephants, and the luminous carbuncle, and the other +enjoyed the more solid riches of domestic industry, foreign trade, and +the capacious harbor of Trinquemale, which received and dismissed the +fleets of the East and West. In this hospitable isle, at an equal +distance (as it was computed) from their respective countries, the silk +merchants of China, who had collected in their voyages aloes, cloves, +nutmeg, and sandal-wood, maintained a free and beneficial commerce with +the inhabitants of the Persian Gulf. The subjects of the great king +exalted, without a rival, his power and magnificence; and the Roman, who +confounded their vanity by comparing his paltry coin with a gold medal +of the Emperor Anastasius, had sailed to Ceylon in an AEthiopian ship as +a simple passenger. + +As silk became of indispensable use, the Emperor Justinian saw with +concern that the Persians had occupied by land and sea the monopoly of +this important supply, and that the wealth of his subjects was +continually drained by a nation of enemies and idolaters. An active +government would have restored the trade of Egypt and the navigation of +the Red Sea, which had decayed with the prosperity of the empire; and +the Roman vessels might have sailed, for the purchase of silk, to the +ports of Ceylon, of Malacca, or even of China. Justinian embraced a more +humble expedient, and solicited the aid of his Christian allies, the +AEthiopians of Abyssinia, who had recently acquired the arts of +navigation, the spirit of trade, and the seaport of Adulis, still +decorated with the trophies of a Grecian conqueror. Along the African +coast they penetrated to the Equator in search of gold, emeralds, and +aromatics; but they wisely declined an unequal competition, in which +they must be always prevented by the vicinity of the Persians to the +markets of India; and the Emperor submitted to the disappointment till +his wishes were gratified by an unexpected event. The gospel had been +preached to the Indians; a bishop already governed the Christians of St. +Thomas on the pepper coast of Malabar; a church was planted in Ceylon, +and the missionaries pursued the footsteps of commerce to the +extremities of Asia. Two Persian monks had long resided in China, +perhaps in the royal city of Nankin, the seat of a monarch addicted to +foreign superstitions, and who actually received an embassy from the +Isle of Ceylon. Amidst their pious occupations they viewed with a +curious eye the common dress of the Chinese, the manufactures of silk, +and the myriads of silkworms, whose education (either on trees or in +houses) had once been considered as the labor of queens. They soon +discovered that it was impracticable to transport the short-lived +insect, but that in the eggs a numerous progeny might be preserved and +multiplied in a distant climate. Religion or interest had more power +over the Persian monks than the love of their country: after a long +journey they arrived at Constantinople, imparted their project to the +Emperor, and were liberally encouraged by the gifts and promises of +Justinian. To the historians of that prince, a campaign at the foot of +Mount Caucasus has seemed more deserving of a minute relation than the +labors of these missionaries of commerce, who again entered China, +deceived a jealous people by concealing the eggs of the silkworm in a +hollow cane, and returned in triumph with the spoils of the East. Under +their direction the eggs were hatched at the proper season by the +artificial heat of dung; the worms were fed with mulberry leaves; they +lived and labored in a foreign climate; a sufficient number of +butterflies were saved to propagate the race, and trees were planted to +supply the nourishment of the rising generations. Experience and +reflection corrected the errors of a new attempt, and the Sogdoite +ambassadors acknowledged in the succeeding reign that the Romans were +not inferior to the natives of China in the education of the insects and +the manufactures of silk, in which both China and Constantinople have +been surpassed by the industry of modern Europe. I am not insensible of +the benefits of elegant luxury; yet I reflect with some pain that if the +importers of silk had introduced the art of printing, already practiced +by the Chinese, the comedies of Menander and the entire decades of Livy +would have been perpetuated in the editions of the sixth century. + + + +MAHOMET'S DEATH AND CHARACTER + + +Till the age of sixty-three years, the strength of Mahomet was equal to +the temporal and spiritual fatigues of his mission. His epileptic fits, +an absurd calumny of the Greeks, would be an object of pity rather than +abhorrence; but he seriously believed that he was poisoned at Chaibar by +the revenge of a Jewish female. During four years the health of the +prophet declined; his infirmities increased; but his mortal disease was +a fever of fourteen days which deprived him by intervals of the use of +reason. As soon as he was conscious of his danger, he edified his +brethren by the humility of his virtue or penitence. "If there be any +man," said the apostle from the pulpit, "whom I have unjustly scourged, +I submit my own back to the lash of retaliation. Have I aspersed the +reputation of a Mussulman? let him proclaim _my_ thoughts in the face of +the congregation. Has any one been despoiled of his goods? the little +that I possess shall compensate the principal and the interest of the +debt." "Yes," replied a voice from the crowd, "I am entitled to three +drams of silver." Mahomet heard the complaint, satisfied the demand, and +thanked his creditor for accusing him in this world rather than at the +day of judgment. He beheld with temperate firmness the approach of +death; enfranchised his slaves (seventeen men, as they are named, and +eleven women), minutely directed the order of his funeral, and moderated +the lamentations of his weeping friends, on whom he bestowed the +benediction of peace. Till the third day before his death, he regularly +performed the function of public prayer: the choice of Abubeker to +supply his place appeared to mark that ancient and faithful friend as +his successor in the sacerdotal and regal office; but he prudently +declined the risk and envy of a more explicit nomination. At a moment +when his faculties were visibly impaired, he called for pen and ink to +write, or more properly, to dictate, a Divine book, the sum and +accomplishment of all his revelations: a dispute arose in the chamber +whether he should be allowed to supersede the authority of the Koran, +and the prophet was forced to reprove the indecent vehemence of his +disciples. If the slightest credit may be afforded to the traditions of +his wives and companions, he maintained, in the bosom of his family, and +to the last moments of his life, the dignity of an apostle and the faith +of an enthusiast; described the visits of Gabriel, who bade an +everlasting farewell to the earth, and expressed his lively confidence +not only of the mercy but of the favor of the Supreme Being. In a +familiar discourse he had mentioned his special prerogative, that the +angel of death was not allowed to take his soul till he had respectfully +asked the permission of the prophet. The request was granted; and +Mahomet immediately fell into the agony of his dissolution: his head was +reclined on the lap of Ayesha, the best beloved of all his wives; he +fainted with the violence of pain; recovering his spirits, he raised his +eyes towards the roof of the house, and with a steady look, though a +faltering voice, uttered the last broken though articulate words:--"O +God! ... pardon my sins ... Yes ... I come ... among my fellow-citizens +on high;" and thus peaceably expired on a carpet spread upon the floor. +An expedition for the conquest of Syria was stopped by this mournful +event: the army halted at the gates of Medina, the chiefs were assembled +round their dying master. The city, more especially the house, of the +prophet, was a scene of clamorous sorrow or silent despair: fanaticism +alone could suggest a ray of hope and consolation. "How can he be +dead--our witness, our intercessor, our mediator with God? By God, he is +not dead: like Moses and Jesus, he is wrapped in a holy trance, and +speedily will he return to his faithful people." The evidence of sense +was disregarded, and Omar, unsheathing his cimeter, threatened to strike +off the heads of the infidels who should dare to affirm that the prophet +was no more. The tumult was appeased by the weight and moderation of +Abubeker. "Is it Mahomet," said he to Omar and the multitude, "or the +God of Mahomet, whom you worship? The God of Mahomet liveth forever; but +the apostle was a mortal like ourselves, and according to his own +prediction, he has experienced the common fate of mortality." He was +piously interred by the hands of his nearest kinsman, on the same spot +on which he expired. Medina has been sanctified by the death and burial +of Mahomet, and the innumerable pilgrims of Mecca often turn aside from +the way, to bow in voluntary devotion before the simple tomb of the +prophet. + +At the conclusion of the life of Mahomet it may perhaps be expected that +I should balance his faults and virtues, that I should decide whether +the title of enthusiast or impostor more properly belongs to that +extraordinary man. Had I been intimately conversant with the son of +Abdallah, the task would still be difficult and the success uncertain: +at the distance of twelve centuries, I darkly contemplate his shade +through a cloud of religious incense; and could I truly delineate the +portrait of an hour, the fleeting resemblance would not equally apply to +the solitary of Mount Hera, to the preacher of Mecca, and to the +conqueror of Arabia. The author of a mighty revolution appears to have +been endowed with a pious and contemplative disposition; so soon as +marriage had raised him above the pressure of want, he avoided the paths +of ambition and avarice; and till the age of forty he lived with +innocence, and would have died without a name. The unity of God is an +idea most congenial to nature and reason; and a slight conversation with +the Jews and Christians would teach him to despise and detest the +idolatry of Mecca. It was the duty of a man and a citizen to impart the +doctrine of salvation, to rescue his country from the dominion of sin +and error. The energy of a mind incessantly bent on the same object +would convert a general obligation into a particular call; the warm +suggestions of the understanding or the fancy would be felt as the +inspirations of Heaven; the labor of thought would expire in rapture and +vision; and the inward sensation, the invisible monitor, would be +described with the form and attributes of an angel of God. From +enthusiasm to imposture the step is perilous and slippery: the daemon of +Socrates affords a memorable instance how a wise man may deceive +himself, how a good man may deceive others, how the conscience may +slumber in a mixed and middle state between self-illusion and voluntary +fraud. Charity may believe that the original motives of Mahomet were +those of pure and genuine benevolence; but a human missionary is +incapable of cherishing the obstinate unbelievers who reject his claims, +despise his arguments, and persecute his life; he might forgive his +personal adversaries, he may lawfully hate the enemies of God; the stern +passions of pride and revenge were kindled in the bosom of Mahomet, and +he sighed, like the prophet of Nineveh, for the destruction of the +rebels whom he had condemned. The injustice of Mecca and the choice of +Medina transformed the citizen into a prince, the humble preacher into +the leader of armies; but his sword was consecrated by the example of +the saints, and the same God who afflicts a sinful world with pestilence +and earthquakes might inspire for their conversion or chastisement the +valor of his servants. In the exercise of political government, he was +compelled to abate of the stern rigor of fanaticism, to comply in some +measure with the prejudices and passions of his followers, and to employ +even the vices of mankind as the instruments of their salvation. The use +of fraud and perfidy, of cruelty and injustice, were often subservient +to the propagation of the faith; and Mahomet commanded or approved the +assassination of the Jews and idolaters who had escaped from the field +of battle. By the repetition of such acts the character of Mahomet must +have been gradually stained; and the influence of such pernicious habits +would be poorly compensated by the practice of the personal and social +virtues which are necessary to maintain the reputation of a prophet +among his sectaries and friends. Of his last years, ambition was the +ruling passion; and a politician will suspect that he secretly smiled +(the victorious impostor!) at the enthusiasm of his youth and the +credulity of his proselytes. A philosopher will observe that _their_ +credulity and _his_ success would tend more strongly to fortify the +assurance of his Divine mission; that his interest and religion were +inseparately connected; and that his conscience would be soothed by the +persuasion that he alone was absolved by the Deity from the obligation +of positive and moral laws. If he retained any vestige of his native +innocence, the sins of Mahomet may be allowed as an evidence of his +sincerity. In the support of truth, the arts of fraud and fiction may be +deemed less criminal; and he would have started at the foulness of the +means, had he not been satisfied of the importance and justice of the +end. Even in a conqueror or a priest, I can surprise a word or action of +unaffected humanity; and the decree of Mahomet that in the sale of +captives the mothers should never be separated from their children, may +suspend or moderate the censure of the historian. + +The good sense of Mahomet despised the pomp of royalty; the apostle of +God submitted to the menial offices of the family; he kindled the fire, +swept the floor, milked the ewes, and mended with his own hands his +shoes and his woolen garment. Disdaining the penance and merit of a +hermit, he observed, without effort or vanity, the abstemious diet of an +Arab and a soldier. On solemn occasions he feasted his companions with +rustic and hospitable plenty; but in his domestic life, many weeks would +elapse without a fire being kindled on the hearth of the prophet. The +interdiction of wine was confirmed by his example; his hunger was +appeased with a sparing allowance of barley bread; he delighted in the +taste of milk and honey, but his ordinary food consisted of dates and +water. Perfumes and women were the two sensual enjoyments which his +nature required and his religion did not forbid; and Mahomet affirmed +that the fervor of his devotion was increased by these innocent +pleasures. The heat of the climate inflames the blood of the Arabs, and +their libidinous complexion has been noticed by the writers of +antiquity. Their incontinence was regulated by the civil and religious +laws of the Koran; their incestuous alliances were blamed; the boundless +license of polygamy was reduced to four legitimate wives or concubines: +their rights both of bed and of dowry were equitably determined; the +freedom of divorce was discouraged; adultery was condemned as a capital +offense; and fornication in either sex was punished with a hundred +stripes. Such were the calm and rational precepts of the legislator, but +in his private conduct Mahomet indulged the appetites of a man and +abused the claims of a prophet. A special revelation dispensed him from +the laws which he had imposed on his nation: the female sex, without +reserve, was abandoned to his desires; and this singular prerogative +excited the envy rather than the scandal, the veneration rather than the +envy, of the devout Mussulmans. If we remember the seven hundred wives +and three hundred concubines of the wise Solomon, we shall applaud the +modesty of the Arabian, who espoused no more than seventeen or fifteen +wives; eleven are enumerated, who occupied at Medina their separate +apartments round the house of the apostle, and enjoyed in their turns +the favor of his conjugal society. What is singular enough, they were +all widows, excepting only Ayesha, the daughter of Abubeker. _She_ was +doubtless a virgin, since Mahomet consummated his nuptials (such is the +premature ripeness of the climate) when she was only nine years of age. +The youth, the beauty, the spirit of Ayesha gave her a superior +ascendant; she was beloved and trusted by the prophet, and after his +death the daughter of Abubeker was long revered as the mother of the +faithful. Her behavior had been ambiguous and indiscreet; in a nocturnal +march she was accidentally left behind, and in the morning Ayesha +returned to the camp with a man. The temper of Mahomet was inclined to +jealousy; but a Divine revelation assured him of her innocence: he +chastised her accusers, and published a law of domestic peace, that no +woman should be condemned unless four male witnesses had seen her in the +act of adultery. In his adventures with Zeineb the wife of Zeid, and +with Mary, an Egyptian captive, the amorous prophet forgot the interest +of his reputation. At the house of Zeid, his freedman and adopted son, +he beheld in a loose undress the beauty of Zeineb, and burst forth into +an ejaculation of devotion and desire. The servile, or grateful, +freedman understood the hint, and yielded without hesitation to the love +of his benefactor. But as the filial relation had excited some doubt and +scandal, the angel Gabriel descended from heaven to ratify the deed, to +annul the adoption, and gently to reprove the apostle for distrusting +the indulgence of his God. One of his wives, Hafna the daughter of Omar, +surprised him on her own bed, in the embraces of his Egyptian captive: +she promised secrecy and forgiveness; he swore that he would renounce +the possession of Mary. Both parties forgot their engagements; and +Gabriel again descended with a chapter of the Koran, to absolve him from +his oath and to exhort him freely to enjoy his captives and concubines, +without listening to the clamors of his wives. In a solitary retreat of +thirty days, he labored, alone with Mary, to fulfill the commands of the +angel. When his love and revenge were satiated, he summoned to his +presence his eleven wives, reproached their disobedience and +indiscretion, and threatened them with a sentence of divorce, both in +this world and in the next; a dreadful sentence, since those who had +ascended the bed of the prophet were forever excluded from the hope of a +second marriage. Perhaps the incontinence of Mahomet may be palliated by +the tradition of his natural or preternatural gifts; he united the manly +virtue of thirty of the children of Adam; and the apostle might rival +the thirteenth labor of the Grecian Hercules. A more serious and decent +excuse may be drawn from his fidelity to Cadijah. During the twenty-four +years of their marriage, her youthful husband abstained from the right +of polygamy, and the pride or tenderness of the venerable matron was +never insulted by the society of a rival. After her death he placed her +in the rank of the four perfect women, with the sister of Moses, the +mother of Jesus, and Fatima, the best beloved of his daughters. "Was she +not old?" said Ayesha, with the insolence of a blooming beauty: "has not +God given you a better in her place?" "No, by God," said Mahomet, with +an effusion of honest gratitude, "there never can be a better! She +believed in me when men despised me; she relieved my wants when I was +poor and persecuted by the world." + + + +THE ALEXANDRIAN LIBRARY + + +I should deceive the expectation of the reader if I passed in silence +the fate of the Alexandrian library as it is described by the learned +Abulpharagius. The spirit of Amrou was more curious and liberal than +that of his brethren, and in his leisure hours the Arabian chief was +pleased with the conversation of John, the last disciple of Ammonius, +and who derived the surname of _Philoponus_ from his laborious studies +of grammar and philosophy. Emboldened by this familiar intercourse, +Philoponus presumed to solicit a gift, inestimable in _his_ opinion, +contemptible in that of the Barbarians--the royal library, which alone +among the spoils of Alexandria had not been appropriated by the visit +and the seal of the conqueror. Amrou was inclined to gratify the wish of +the grammarian, but his rigid integrity refused to alienate the minutest +object without the consent of the caliph; and the well-known answer of +Omar was inspired by the ignorance of a fanatic: "If these writings of +the Greeks agree with the book of God, they are useless, and need not be +preserved; if they disagree, they are pernicious, and ought to be +destroyed." The sentence was executed with blind obedience, the volumes +of paper or parchment were distributed to the four thousand baths of the +city; and such was their incredible multitude, that six months were +barely sufficient for the consumption of this precious fuel. Since the +Dynasties of Abulpharagius have been given to the world in a Latin +version, the tale has been repeatedly transcribed; and every scholar, +with pious indignation, has deplored the irreparable shipwreck of the +learning, the arts, and the genius, of antiquity. For my own part, I am +strongly tempted to deny both the fact and the consequences. The fact is +indeed marvelous. "Read and wonder!" says the historian himself; and the +solitary report of a stranger who wrote at the end of six hundred years +on the confines of Media is overbalanced by the silence of two annalists +of a more early date, both Christians, both natives of Egypt, and the +most ancient of whom, the patriarch Eutychius, has amply described the +conquest of Alexandria. The rigid sentence of Omar is repugnant to the +sound and orthodox precept of the Mahometan casuists: they expressly +declare that the religious books of the Jews and Christians which are +acquired by the right of war should never be committed to the flames; +and that the works of profane science, historians or poets, physicians +or philosophers, may be lawfully applied to the use of the faithful. A +more destructive zeal may perhaps be attributed to the first successors +of Mahomet; yet in this instance, the conflagration would have speedily +expired in the deficiency of materials. I shall not recapitulate the +disasters of the Alexandrian library, the involuntary flame that was +kindled by Caesar in his own defense, or the mischievous bigotry of the +Christians, who studied to destroy the monuments of idolatry. But if we +gradually descend from the age of the Antonines to that of Theodosius, +we shall learn from a chain of contemporary witnesses that the royal +palace and the temple of Serapis no longer contained the four, or the +seven, hundred thousand volumes which had been assembled by the +curiosity and magnificence of the Ptolemies. Perhaps the church and seat +of the patriarchs might be enriched with a repository of books; but if +the ponderous mass of Arian and Monophysite controversy were indeed +consumed in the public baths, a philosopher may allow, with a smile, +that it was ultimately devoted to the benefit of mankind. I sincerely +regret the more valuable libraries which have been involved in the ruin +of the Roman Empire; but when I seriously compute the lapse of ages, the +waste of ignorance, and the calamities of war, our treasures, rather +than our losses, are the objects of my surprise. Many curious and +interesting facts are buried in oblivion; the three great historians of +Rome have been transmitted to our hands in a mutilated state, and we are +deprived of many pleasing compositions of the lyric, iambic, and +dramatic poetry of the Greeks. Yet we should gratefully remember that +the mischances of time and accident have spared the classic works to +which the suffrage of antiquity had adjudged the first place of genius +and glory; the teachers of ancient knowledge who are still extant had +perused and compared the writings of their predecessors; nor can it +fairly be presumed that any important truth, any useful discovery in art +or nature, has been snatched away from the curiosity of modern ages. + + + + [Illustration: _RUINED ROME._ + From a Photograph. + TEMPLE OF ROMULUS + BASILICA OF CONSTANTINE + COLOSSEUM + ARCH OF TITUS] + + + +THE FINAL RUIN OF ROME + + +In the last days of Pope Eugenius the Fourth, two of his servants, the +learned Poggius and a friend, ascended the Capitoline Hill, reposed +themselves among the ruins of columns and temples, and viewed from that +commanding spot the wide and various prospect of desolation. The place +and the object gave ample scope for moralizing on the vicissitudes of +fortune, which spares neither man nor the proudest of his works, which +buries empires and cities in a common grave; and it was agreed that in +proportion to her former greatness the fall of Rome was the more awful +and deplorable. "Her primeval state, such as she might appear in a +remote age, when Evander entertained the stranger of Troy, has been +delineated by the fancy of Virgil. This Tarpeian Rock was then a savage +and solitary thicket; in the time of the poet it was crowned with the +golden roofs of a temple; the temple is overthrown, the gold has been +pillaged, the wheel of fortune has accomplished her revolution, and the +sacred ground is again disfigured with thorns and brambles. The hill of +the Capitol, on which we sit, was formerly the head of the Roman Empire, +the citadel of the earth, the terror of kings; illustrated by the +footsteps of so many triumphs, enriched with the spoils and tributes of +so many nations. This spectacle of the world, how is it fallen! how +changed! how defaced! The path of victory is obliterated by vines, and +the benches of the senators are concealed by a dunghill. Cast your eyes +on the Palatine Hill, and seek among the shapeless and enormous +fragments the marble theatre, the obelisks, the colossal statues, the +porticos of Nero's palace; survey the other hills of the city,--the +vacant space is interrupted only by ruins and gardens. The Forum of the +Roman people, where they assembled to enact their laws and elect their +magistrates, is now inclosed for the cultivation of pot-herbs, or thrown +open for the reception of swine and buffaloes. The public and private +edifices that were founded for eternity lie prostrate, naked, and +broken, like the limbs of a mighty giant; and the ruin is the more +visible, from the stupendous relics that have survived the injuries of +time and fortune." + +These relics are minutely described by Poggius, one of the first who +raised his eyes from the monuments of legendary to those of classic +superstition. 1. Besides a bridge, an arch, a sepulchre, and the +pyramid of Cestius, he could discern, of the age of the republic, a +double row of vaults in the salt office of the Capitol, which were +inscribed with the name and munificence of Catulus. 2. Eleven temples +were visible in some degree, from the perfect form of the Pantheon to +the three arches and a marble column of the temple of Peace which +Vespasian erected after the civil wars and the Jewish triumph. 3. Of the +number which he rashly defines, of seven _thermae_, or public baths, none +were sufficiently entire to represent the use and distribution of the +several parts; but those of Diocletian and Antoninus Caracalla still +retained the titles of the founders and astonished the curious spectator +who in observing their solidity and extent, the variety of marbles, the +size and multitude of the columns, compared the labor and expense with +the use and importance. Of the baths of Constantine, of Alexander, of +Domitian, or rather of Titus, some vestige might yet be found. 4. The +triumphal arches of Titus, Severus, and Constantine were entire, both +the structure and the inscriptions; a falling fragment was honored with +the name of Trajan; and two arches then extant in the Flaminian Way have +been ascribed to the baser memory of Faustina and Gallienus. 5. After +the wonder of the Coliseum, Poggius might have overlooked a small +amphitheatre of brick, most probably for the use of the praetorian camp; +the theatres of Marcellus and Pompey were occupied in a great measure by +public and private buildings; and in the Circus, Agonalis and Maximus, +little more than the situation and the form could be investigated. 6. +The columns of Trajan and Antonine were still erect; but the Egyptian +obelisks were broken or buried. A people of gods and heroes, the +workmanship of art, was reduced to one equestrian figure of gilt brass +and to five marble statues, of which the most conspicuous were the two +horses of Phidias and Praxiteles. 7. The two mausoleums or sepulchres of +Augustus and Hadrian could not totally be lost; but the former was only +visible as a mound of earth, and the latter, the castle of St. Angelo, +had acquired the name and appearance of a modern fortress. With the +addition of some separate and nameless columns, such were the remains of +the ancient city; for the marks of a more recent structure might be +detected in the walls, which formed a circumference of ten miles, +included three hundred and seventy-nine turrets, and opened into the +country by thirteen gates. + +This melancholy picture was drawn above nine hundred years after the +fall of the Western Empire, and even of the Gothic kingdom of Italy. A +long period of distress and anarchy, in which empire, and arts, and +riches had migrated from the banks of the Tiber, was incapable of +restoring or adorning the city; and as all that is human must retrograde +if it do not advance, every successive age must have hastened the ruin +of the works of antiquity. To measure the progress of decay, and to +ascertain, at each era, the state of each edifice, would be an endless +and a useless labor; and I shall content myself with two observations +which will introduce a short inquiry into the general causes and +effects. 1. Two hundred years before the eloquent complaint of Poggius, +an anonymous writer composed a description of Rome. His ignorance may +repeat the same objects under strange and fabulous names. Yet this +barbarous topographer had eyes and ears; he could observe the visible +remains; he could listen to the tradition of the people; and he +distinctly enumerates seven theatres, eleven baths, twelve arches, and +eighteen palaces, of which many had disappeared before the time of +Poggius. It is apparent that many stately monuments of antiquity +survived till a late period, and that the principles of destruction +acted with vigorous and increasing energy in the thirteenth and +fourteenth centuries. 2. The same reflection must be applied to the +three last ages; and we should vainly seek the Septizonium of Severus, +which is celebrated by Petrarch and the antiquarians of the sixteenth +century. While the Roman edifices were still entire, the first blows, +however weighty and impetuous, were resisted by the solidity of the mass +and the harmony of the parts; but the slightest touch would precipitate +the fragments of arches and columns that already nodded to their fall. + +After a diligent inquiry, I can discern four principal causes of the +ruin of Rome, which continued to operate in a period of more than a +thousand years. I. The injuries of time and nature. II. The hostile +attacks of the Barbarians and Christians. III. The use and abuse of the +materials. And IV. The domestic quarrels of the Romans. + +I. The art of man is able to construct monuments far more permanent than +the narrow span of his own existence; yet these monuments, like himself, +are perishable and frail; and in the boundless annals of time his life +and his labors must equally be measured as a fleeting moment. Of a +simple and solid edifice it is not easy, however, to circumscribe the +duration. As the wonders of ancient days, the Pyramids attracted the +curiosity of the ancients: a hundred generations, the leaves of autumn, +have dropped into the grave; and after the fall of the Pharaohs and +Ptolemies, the Caesars and caliphs, the same Pyramids stand erect and +unshaken above the floods of the Nile. A complex figure of various and +minute parts is more accessible to injury and decay; and the silent +lapse of time is often accelerated by hurricanes and earthquakes, by +fires and inundations. The air and earth have doubtless been shaken, and +the lofty turrets of Rome have tottered from their foundations, but the +seven hills do not appear to be placed on the great cavities of the +globe; nor has the city in any age been exposed to the convulsions of +nature which in the climate of Antioch, Lisbon, or Lima, have crumbled +in a few moments the works of ages in the dust. Fire is the most +powerful agent of life and death: the rapid mischief may be kindled and +propagated by the industry or negligence of mankind; and every period of +the Roman annals is marked by the repetition of similar calamities. A +memorable conflagration, the guilt or misfortune of Nero's reign, +continued, though with unequal fury, either six or nine days. +Innumerable buildings, crowded in close and crooked streets, supplied +perpetual fuel for the flames; and when they ceased, four only of the +fourteen regions were left entire; three were totally destroyed, and +seven were deformed by the relics of smoking and lacerated edifices. In +the full meridian of empire, the metropolis arose with fresh beauty from +her ashes; yet the memory of the old deplored the irreparable losses, +the arts of Greece, the trophies of victory, the monuments of primitive +or fabulous antiquity. In the days of distress and anarchy every wound +is mortal, every fall irretrievable; nor can the damage be restored +either by the public care of government or the activity of private +interest. Yet two causes may be alleged, which render the calamity of +fire more destructive to a flourishing than a decayed city. 1. The more +combustible materials of brick, timber, and metals are first melted and +consumed, but the flames may play without injury or effect on the naked +walls and massy arches that have been despoiled of their ornaments. 2. +It is among the common and plebeian habitations that a mischievous spark +is most easily blown to a conflagration; but as soon as they are +devoured, the greater edifices which have resisted or escaped are left +as so many islands in a state of solitude and safety. From her +situation, Rome is exposed to the danger of frequent inundations. +Without excepting the Tiber, the rivers that descend from either side of +the Apennine have a short and irregular course; a shallow stream in the +summer heats; an impetuous torrent when it is swelled in the spring or +winter by the fall of rain and the melting of the snows. When the +current is repelled from the sea by adverse winds, when the ordinary bed +is inadequate to the weight of waters, they rise above the banks and +overspread without limits or control the plains and cities of the +adjacent country. Soon after the triumph of the first Punic War, the +Tiber was increased by unusual rains; and the inundation, surpassing all +former measure of time and place, destroyed all the buildings that were +situate below the hills of Rome. According to the variety of ground, the +same mischief was produced by different means; and the edifices were +either swept away by the sudden impulse, or dissolved and undermined by +the long continuance of the flood. Under the reign of Augustus the same +calamity was renewed: the lawless river overturned the palaces and +temples on its banks; and after the labors of the Emperor in cleansing +and widening the bed that was incumbered with ruins, the vigilance of +his successors was exercised by similar dangers and designs. The project +of diverting into new channels the Tiber itself, or some of the +dependent streams, was long opposed by superstition and local interests; +nor did the use compensate the toil and costs of the tardy and imperfect +execution. The servitude of rivers is the noblest and most important +victory which man has obtained over the licentiousness of nature; and if +such were the ravages of the Tiber under a firm and active government, +what could oppose, or who can enumerate, the injuries of the city after +the fall of the Western Empire? A remedy was at length produced by the +evil itself: the accumulation of rubbish and the earth that has been +washed down from the hills is supposed to have elevated the plain of +Rome fourteen or fifteen feet perhaps above the ancient level: and the +modern city is less accessible to the attacks of the river. + +II. The crowd of writers of every nation who impute the destruction of +the Roman monuments to the Goths and the Christians, have neglected to +inquire how far they were animated by a hostile principle, and how far +they possessed the means and the leisure to satiate their enmity. In the +preceding volumes of this history I have described the triumph of +barbarism and religion; and I can only resume in a few words their real +or imaginary connection with the ruin of ancient Rome. Our fancy may +create or adopt a pleasing romance: that the Goths and Vandals sallied +from Scandinavia, ardent to avenge the flight of Odin, to break the +chains and to chastise the oppressors of mankind; that they wished to +burn the records of classic literature, and to found their national +architecture on the broken members of the Tuscan and Corinthian orders. +But in simple truth, the Northern conquerors were neither sufficiently +savage nor sufficiently refined to entertain such aspiring ideas of +destruction and revenge. The shepherds of Scythia and Germany had been +educated in the armies of the Empire, whose discipline they acquired and +whose weakness they invaded; with the familiar use of the Latin tongue, +they had learned to reverence the name and titles of Rome; and though +incapable of emulating, they were more inclined to admire than to +abolish the arts and studies of a brighter period. In the transient +possession of a rich and unresisting capital, the soldiers of Alaric and +Genseric were stimulated by the passions of a victorious army; amidst +the wanton indulgence of lust or cruelty, portable wealth was the object +of their search; nor could they derive either pride or pleasure from the +unprofitable reflection that they had battered to the ground the works +of the consuls and Caesars. Their moments were indeed precious: the Goths +evacuated Rome on the sixth, the Vandals on the fifteenth day, and +though it be far more difficult to build than to destroy, their hasty +assault would have made a slight impression on the solid piles of +antiquity. We may remember that both Alaric and Genseric affected to +spare the buildings of the city; that they subsisted in strength and +beauty under the auspicious government of Theodoric; and that the +momentary resentment of Totila was disarmed by his own temper and the +advice of his friends and enemies. From these innocent Barbarians the +reproach may be transferred to the Catholics of Rome. The statues, +altars, and houses of the daemons were an abomination in their eyes; and +in the absolute command of the city, they might labor with zeal and +perseverance to erase the idolatry of their ancestors. The demolition of +the temples in the East affords to _them_ an example of conduct, and to +_us_ an argument of belief; and it is probable that a portion of guilt +or merit may be imputed with justice to the Roman proselytes. Yet their +abhorrence was confined to the monuments of heathen superstition; and +the civil structures that were dedicated to the business or pleasure of +society might be preserved without injury or scandal. The change of +religion was accomplished not by a popular tumult, but by the decrees of +the emperors, of the Senate, and of time. Of the Christian hierarchy, +the bishops of Rome were commonly the most prudent and least fanatic; +nor can any positive charge be opposed to the meritorious act of saving +and converting the majestic structure of the Pantheon. + +III. The value of any object that supplies the wants or pleasures of +mankind is compounded of its substance and its form, of the materials +and the manufacture. Its price must depend on the number of persons by +whom it may be acquired and used; on the extent of the market; and +consequently on the ease or difficulty of remote exportation according +to the nature of the commodity, its local situation, and the temporary +circumstances of the world. The Barbarian conquerors of Rome usurped in +a moment the toil and treasure of successive ages; but except the +luxuries of immediate consumption, they must view without desire all +that could not be removed from the city in the Gothic wagons or the +fleet of the Vandals. Gold and silver were the first objects of their +avarice; as in every country, and in the smallest compass, they +represent the most ample command of the industry and possessions of +mankind. A vase or a statue of those precious metals might tempt the +vanity of some Barbarian chief; but the grosser multitude, regardless of +the form, was tenacious only of the substance; and the melted ingots +might be readily divided and stamped into the current coin of the +empire. The less active or less fortunate robbers were reduced to the +baser plunder of brass, lead, iron, and copper: whatever had escaped the +Goths and Vandals was pillaged by the Greek tyrants; and the Emperor +Constans in his rapacious visit stripped the bronze tiles from the roof +of the Pantheon. The edifices of Rome might be considered as a vast and +various mine: the first labor of extracting the materials was already +performed; the metals were purified and cast; the marbles were hewn and +polished; and after foreign and domestic rapine had been satiated, the +remains of the city, could a purchaser have been found, were still +venal. The monuments of antiquity had been left naked of their precious +ornaments; but the Romans would demolish with their own hands the arches +and walls, if the hope of profit could surpass the cost of the labor and +exportation. If Charlemagne had fixed in Italy the seat of the Western +Empire, his genius would have aspired to restore, rather than to +violate, the works of the Caesars: but policy confined the French monarch +to the forests of Germany; his taste could be gratified only by +destruction; and the new palace of Aix-la-Chapelle was decorated with +the marbles of Ravenna and Rome. Five hundred years after Charlemagne, a +king of Sicily, Robert,--the wisest and most liberal sovereign of the +age,--was supplied with the same materials by the easy navigation of the +Tiber and the sea; and Petrarch sighs an indignant complaint that the +ancient capital of the world should adorn from her own bowels the +slothful luxury of Naples. But these examples of plunder or purchase +were rare in the darker ages; and the Romans, alone and unenvied, might +have applied to their private or public use the remaining structures of +antiquity, if in their present form and situation they had not been +useless in a great measure to the city and its inhabitants. The walls +still described the old circumference, but the city had descended from +the seven hills into the Campus Martius; and some of the noblest +monuments which had braved the injuries of time were left in a desert, +far remote from the habitations of mankind. The palaces of the senators +were no longer adapted to the manners or fortunes of their indigent +successors: the use of baths and porticos was forgotten; in the sixth +century the games of the theatre, amphitheatre, and circus had been +interrupted; some temples were devoted to the prevailing worship, but +the Christian churches preferred the holy figure of the cross; and +fashion, or reason, had distributed after a peculiar model the cells and +offices of the cloister. Under the ecclesiastical reign, the number of +these pious foundations was enormously multiplied; and the city was +crowded with forty monasteries of men, twenty of women, and sixty +chapters and colleges of canons and priests, who aggravated instead of +relieving the depopulation of the tenth century. But if the forms of +ancient architecture were disregarded by a people insensible of their +use and beauty, the plentiful materials were applied to every call of +necessity or superstition; till the fairest columns of the Ionic and +Corinthian orders, the richest marbles of Paros and Numidia, were +degraded, perhaps to the support of a convent or a stable. The daily +havoc which is perpetrated by the Turks in the cities of Greece and Asia +may afford a melancholy example; and in the gradual destruction of the +monuments of Rome, Sixtus the Fifth may alone be excused for employing +the stones of the Septizonium in the glorious edifice of St. Peter's. +A fragment, a ruin, howsoever mangled or profaned, may be viewed with +pleasure and regret; but the greater part of the marble was deprived of +substance, as well as of place and proportion: it was burnt to lime for +the purpose of cement. Since the arrival of Poggius, the temple of +Concord and many capital structures had vanished from his eyes; and +an epigram of the same age expresses a just and pious fear that the +continuance of this practice would finally annihilate all the monuments +of antiquity. The smallness of their numbers was the sole check on the +demands and depredations of the Romans. The imagination of Petrarch +might create the presence of a mighty people; and I hesitate to believe +that even in the fourteenth century they could be reduced to a +contemptible list of thirty-three thousand inhabitants. From that period +to the reign of Leo the Tenth, if they multiplied to the amount of +eighty-five thousand, the increase of citizens was in some degree +pernicious to the ancient city. + +IV. I have reserved for the last, the most potent and forcible cause of +destruction, the domestic hostilities of the Romans themselves. Under +the dominion of the Greek and French emperors, the peace of the city was +disturbed by accidental though frequent seditions: it is from the +decline of the latter, from the beginning of the tenth century, that we +may date the licentiousness of private war, which violated with impunity +the laws of the Code and the gospel, without respecting the majesty of +the absent sovereign or the presence and person of the vicar of Christ. +In a dark period of five hundred years, Rome was perpetually afflicted +by the sanguinary quarrels of the nobles and the people, the Guelphs and +Ghibelines, the Colonna and Ursini; and if much has escaped the +knowledge, and much is unworthy of the notice, of history, I have +exposed in the two preceding chapters the causes and effects of the +public disorders. At such a time, when every quarrel was decided by the +sword and none could trust their lives or properties to the impotence of +law, the powerful citizens were armed for safety, or offense, against +the domestic enemies whom they feared or hated. Except Venice alone, the +same dangers and designs were common to all the free republics of Italy; +and the nobles usurped the prerogative of fortifying their houses and +erecting strong towers that were capable of resisting a sudden attack. +The cities were filled with these hostile edifices; and the example of +Lucca, which contained three hundred towers, her law which confined +their height to the measure of fourscore feet, may be extended with +suitable latitude to the more opulent and populous States. The first +step of the senator Brancaleone in the establishment of peace and +justice, was to demolish (as we have already seen) one hundred and forty +of the towers of Rome; and in the last days of anarchy and discord, as +late as the reign of Martin the Fifth, forty-four still stood in one of +the thirteen or fourteen regions of the city. To this mischievous +purpose the remains of antiquity were most readily adapted: the temples +and arches afforded a broad and solid basis for the new structures of +brick and stone; and we can name the modern turrets that were raised on +the triumphal monuments of Julius Caesar, Titus, and the Antonines. With +some slight alterations, a theatre, an amphitheatre, a mausoleum, was +transformed into a strong and spacious citadel. I need not repeat that +the mole of Adrian has assumed the title and form of the castle of St. +Angelo; the Septizonium of Severus was capable of standing against a +royal army; the sepulchre of Metella has sunk under its outworks; the +theatres of Pompey and Marcellus were occupied by the Savelli and Ursini +families; and the rough fortress has been gradually softened to the +splendor and elegance of an Italian palace. Even the churches were +encompassed with arms and bulwarks, and the military engines on the roof +of St. Peter's were the terror of the Vatican and the scandal of the +Christian world. Whatever is fortified will be attacked; and whatever is +attacked may be destroyed. Could the Romans have wrested from the popes +the castle of St. Angelo, they had resolved by a public decree to +annihilate that monument of servitude. Every building of defense was +exposed to a siege; and in every siege the arts and engines of +destruction were laboriously employed. After the death of Nicholas the +Fourth, Rome, without a sovereign or a senate, was abandoned six months +to the fury of civil war. "The houses," says a cardinal and poet of the +times, "were crushed by the weight and velocity of enormous stones; the +walls were perforated by the strokes of the battering-ram; the towers +were involved in fire and smoke; and the assailants were stimulated by +rapine and revenge." The work was consummated by the tyranny of the +laws; and the factions of Italy alternately exercised a blind and +thoughtless vengeance on their adversaries, whose houses and castles +they razed to the ground. In comparing the _days_ of foreign, with the +_ages_ of domestic hostility, we must pronounce that the latter have +been far more ruinous to the city; and our opinion is confirmed by the +evidence of Petrarch. "Behold," says the laureate, "the relics of Rome, +the image of her pristine greatness! neither time nor the Barbarian can +boast the merit of this stupendous destruction: it was perpetrated by +her own citizens, by the most illustrious of her sons; and your +ancestors [he writes to a noble Annibaldi] have done with battering-ram +what the Punic hero could not accomplish with the sword." The influence +of the two last principles of decay must in some degree be multiplied by +each other, since the houses and towers which were subverted by civil +war required a new and perpetual supply from the monuments of antiquity. + +These general observations may be separately applied to the amphitheatre +of Titus, which has obtained the name of the Coliseum, either from its +magnitude or from Nero's colossal statue; an edifice, had it been left +to time and nature, which might perhaps have claimed an eternal +duration. The curious antiquaries who have computed the numbers and +seats are disposed to believe that above the upper row of stone steps +the amphitheatre was encircled and elevated with several stages of +wooden galleries, which were repeatedly consumed by fire, and restored +by the emperors. Whatever was precious, or portable, or profane, the +statues of gods and heroes, and the costly ornaments of sculpture which +were cast in brass or overspread with leaves of silver and gold, became +the first prey of conquest or fanaticism, of the avarice of the +Barbarians or the Christians. In the massy stones of the Coliseum, many +holes are discerned; and the two most probable conjectures represent the +various accidents of its decay. These stones were connected by solid +links of brass or iron, nor had the eye of rapine overlooked the value +of the baser metals; the vacant space was converted into a fair or +market; the artisans of the Coliseum are mentioned in an ancient survey; +and the chasms were perforated or enlarged to receive the poles that +supported the shops or tents of the mechanic trades. Reduced to its +naked majesty, the Flavian amphitheatre was contemplated with awe and +admiration by the pilgrims of the North; and their rude enthusiasm broke +forth in a sublime proverbial expression, which is recorded in the +eighth century, in the fragments of the venerable Bede: "As long as the +Coliseum stands, Rome shall stand; when the Coliseum falls, Rome will +fall; when Rome falls, the world will fall." In the modern system of war +a situation commanded by the three hills would not be chosen for a +fortress: but the strength of the walls and arches could resist the +engines of assault; a numerous garrison might be lodged in the +inclosure; and while one faction occupied the Vatican and the Capitol, +the other was intrenched in the Lateran and the Coliseum. + +The abolition at Rome of the ancient games must be understood with some +latitude; and the carnival sports of the Testacean Mount and the Circus +Agonalis were regulated by the law or custom of the city. The senator +presided with dignity and pomp to adjudge and distribute the prizes, the +gold ring, or the _pallium_, as it was styled, of cloth or silk. A +tribute on the Jews supplied the annual expense; and the races on foot, +on horseback, or in chariots, were ennobled by a tilt and tournament of +seventy-two of the Roman youth. In the year 1332 a bull-feast, after the +fashion of the Moors and Spaniards, was celebrated in the Coliseum +itself; and the living manners are painted in a diary of the times. A +convenient order of benches was restored, and a general proclamation as +far as Rimini and Ravenna invited the nobles to exercise their skill and +courage in this perilous adventure. The Roman ladies were marshaled in +three squadrons and seated in three balconies, which on this day, the +third of September, were lined with scarlet cloth. The fair Jacova di +Rovere led the matrons from beyond the Tiber, a pure and native race who +still represent the features and character of antiquity. The remainder +of the city was divided as usual between the Colonna and Ursini: the two +factions were proud of the number and beauty of their female bands: the +charms of Savella Ursini are mentioned with praise, and the Colonna +regretted the absence of the youngest of their house, who had sprained +her ankle in the garden of Nero's tower. The lots of the champions were +drawn by an old and respectable citizen; and they descended into the +arena, or pit, to encounter the wild bulls, on foot as it should seem, +with a single spear. Amidst the crowd, our annalist has selected the +names, colors, and devices of twenty of the most conspicuous knights. +Several of the names are the most illustrious of Rome and the +ecclesiastical State: Malatesta, Polenta, Della Valle, Cafarello, +Savelli, Capoccio, Conti, Annibaldi, Altieri, Corsi: the colors were +adapted to their taste and situation: the devices are expressive of +hope or despair, and breathe the spirit of gallantry and arms. "I am +alone, like the youngest of the Horatii," the confidence of an intrepid +stranger; "I live disconsolate," a weeping widower; "I burn under the +ashes," a discreet lover; "I adore Lavinia, or Lucretia," the ambiguous +declaration of a modern passion; "My faith is as pure," the motto of a +white livery; "Who is stronger than myself?" of a lion's hide; "If I am +drowned in blood, what a pleasant death!" the wish of ferocious courage. +The pride or prudence of the Ursini restrained them from the field, +which was occupied by three of their hereditary rivals, whose +inscriptions denoted the lofty greatness of the Colonna name: "Though +sad, I am strong;" "Strong as I am great;" "If I fall," addressing +himself to the spectators, "you fall with me"--intimating (says the +contemporary writer) that while the other families were the subjects of +the Vatican, they alone were the supporters of the Capitol. The combats +of the amphitheatre were dangerous and bloody. Every champion +successively encountered a wild bull; and the victory may be ascribed to +the quadrupeds, since no more than eleven were left on the field, with +the loss of nine wounded and eighteen killed on the side of their +adversaries. Some of the noblest families might mourn; but the pomp of +the funerals in the churches of St. John Lateran and Sta. Maria Maggiore +afforded a second holiday to the people. Doubtless it was not in such +conflicts that the blood of the Romans should have been shed: yet in +blaming their rashness we are compelled to applaud their gallantry; and +the noble volunteers who display their magnificence and risk their lives +under the balconies of the fair, excite a more generous sympathy than +the thousands of captives and malefactors who were reluctantly dragged +to the scene of slaughter. + +This use of the amphitheatre was a rare, perhaps a singular, festival: +the demand for the materials was a daily and continual want which the +citizens could gratify without restraint or remorse. In the fourteenth +century a scandalous act of concord secured to both factions the +privilege of extracting stones from the free and common quarry of the +Coliseum; and Poggius laments that the greater part of these stones had +been burnt to lime by the folly of the Romans. To check this abuse, and +to prevent the nocturnal crimes that might be perpetrated in the vast +and gloomy recess, Eugenius the Fourth surrounded it with a wall; and by +a charter long extant, granted both the ground and edifice to the monks +of an adjacent convent. After his death the wall was overthrown in a +tumult of the people; and had they themselves respected the noblest +monument of their fathers, they might have justified the resolve that it +should never be degraded to private property. The inside was damaged; +but in the middle of the sixteenth century, an era of taste and +learning, the exterior circumference of one thousand six hundred and +twelve feet was still entire and inviolate; a triple elevation of +fourscore arches which rose to the height of one hundred and eight feet. +Of the present ruin, the nephews of Paul the Third are the guilty +agents; and every traveler who views the Farnese palace may curse the +sacrilege and luxury of these upstart princes. A similar reproach is +applied to the Barberini; and the repetition of injury might be dreaded +from every reign, till the Coliseum was placed under the safeguard of +religion by the most liberal of the pontiffs, Benedict the Fourteenth, +who consecrated a spot which persecution and fable had stained with the +blood of so many Christian martyrs. + +When Petrarch first gratified his eyes with a view of those monuments, +whose scattered fragments so far surpass the most eloquent descriptions, +he was astonished at the supine indifference of the Romans themselves; +he was humbled rather than elated by the discovery that, except his +friend Rienzi and one of the Colonna, a stranger of the Rhone was more +conversant with these antiquities than the nobles and natives of the +metropolis. The ignorance and credulity of the Romans are elaborately +displayed in the old survey of the city, which was composed about the +beginning of the thirteenth century; and without dwelling on the +manifold errors of name and place, the legend of the Capitol may provoke +a smile of contempt and indignation. "The Capitol," says the anonymous +writer, "is so named as being the head of the world, where the consuls +and senators formerly resided for the government of the city and the +globe. The strong and lofty walls were covered with glass and gold, and +crowned with a roof of the richest and most curious carving. Below the +citadel stood a palace, of gold for the greatest part, decorated with +precious stones, and whose value might be esteemed at one-third of the +world itself. The statues of all the provinces were arranged in order, +each with a small bell suspended from its neck; and such was the +contrivance of art magic, that if the province rebelled against Rome the +statue turned round to that quarter of the heavens, the bell rang, the +prophet of the Capitol reported the prodigy, and the Senate was +admonished of the impending danger." A second example, of less +importance though of equal absurdity, may be drawn from the two marble +horses, led by two naked youths, which have since been transported from +the baths of Constantine to the Quirinal Hill. The groundless +application of the names of Phidias and Praxiteles may perhaps be +excused: but these Grecian sculptors should not have been removed above +four hundred years from the age of Pericles to that of Tiberius; they +should not have been transformed into two philosophers or magicians, +whose nakedness was the symbol of truth or knowledge, who revealed to +the Emperor his most secret actions, and after refusing all pecuniary +recompense, solicited the honor of leaving this eternal monument of +themselves. Thus, awake to the power of magic, the Romans were +insensible to the beauties of art: no more than five statues were +visible to the eyes of Poggius; and of the multitudes which chance or +design had buried under the ruins, the resurrection was fortunately +delayed till a safer and more enlightened age. The Nile, which now +adorns the Vatican, had been explored by some laborers in digging a +vineyard near the temple, or convent, of the Minerva: but the impatient +proprietor, who was tormented by some visits of curiosity, restored the +unprofitable marble to its former grave. The discovery of the statue of +Pompey, ten feet in length, was the occasion of a lawsuit. It had been +found under a partition wall: the equitable judge had pronounced that +the head should be separated from the body to satisfy the claims of the +contiguous owners; and the sentence would have been executed if the +intercession of a cardinal and the liberality of a pope had not rescued +the Roman hero from the hands of his barbarous countrymen. + +But the clouds of barbarism were gradually dispelled, and the peaceful +authority of Martin the Fifth and his successors restored the ornaments +of the city as well as the order of the ecclesiastical State. The +improvements of Rome since the fifteenth century have not been the +spontaneous produce of freedom and industry. The first and most natural +root of a great city is the labor and populousness of the adjacent +country, which supplies the materials of subsistence, of manufactures, +and of foreign trade. But the greater part of the Campagna of Rome is +reduced to a dreary and desolate wilderness; the overgrown estates of +the princes and the clergy are cultivated by the lazy hands of indigent +and hopeless vassals; and the scanty harvests are confined or exported +for the benefit of a monopoly. A second and more artificial cause of the +growth of a metropolis is the residence of a monarch, the expense of a +luxurious court, and the tributes of dependent provinces. Those +provinces and tributes had been lost in the fall of the Empire: and if +some streams of the silver of Peru and the gold of Brazil have been +attracted by the Vatican, the revenues of the cardinals, the fees of +office, the oblations of pilgrims and clients, and the remnant of +ecclesiastical taxes, afford a poor and precarious supply, which +maintains however the idleness of the court and city. The population of +Rome, far below the measure of the great capitals of Europe, does not +exceed one hundred and seventy thousand inhabitants; and within the +spacious inclosure of the walls the largest portion of the seven hills +is overspread with vineyards and ruins. The beauty and splendor of the +modern city may be ascribed to the abuses of the government, to the +influence of superstition. Each reign (the exceptions are rare) has been +marked by the rapid elevation of a new family, enriched by the childless +pontiff at the expense of the Church and country. The palaces of these +fortunate nephews are the most costly monuments of elegance and +servitude: the perfect arts of architecture, painting, and sculpture +have been prostituted in their service; and their galleries and gardens +are decorated with the most precious works of antiquity which taste or +vanity has prompted them to collect. The ecclesiastical revenues were +more decently employed by the popes themselves in the pomp of the +Catholic worship; but it is superfluous to enumerate their pious +foundations of altars, chapels, and churches, since these lesser stars +are eclipsed by the sun of the Vatican, by the dome of St. Peter, the +most glorious structure that ever has been applied to the use of +religion. The fame of Julius the Second, Leo the Tenth, and Sixtus the +Fifth is accompanied by the superior merit of Bramante and Fontana, of +Raphael and Michael Angelo; and the same munificence which had been +displayed in palaces and temples was directed with equal zeal to revive +and emulate the labors of antiquity. Prostrate obelisks were raised from +the ground and erected in the most conspicuous places; of the eleven +aqueducts of the Caesars and consuls, three were restored; the artificial +rivers were conducted over a long series of old, or of new arches, to +discharge into marble basins a flood of salubrious and refreshing +waters: and the spectator, impatient to ascend the steps of St. Peter's, +is detained by a column of Egyptian granite, which rises between two +lofty and perpetual fountains to the height of one hundred and twenty +feet. The map, the description, the monuments of ancient Rome have been +elucidated by the diligence of the antiquarian and the student; and the +footsteps of heroes, the relics, not of superstition but of empire, are +devoutly visited by a new race of pilgrims from the remote and once +savage countries of the North. + + All the foregoing selections are made from 'The History + of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire' + + + + +WILLIAM SCHWENCK GILBERT + +(1836-) + +[Illustration: WILLIAM S. GILBERT] + + +When, after appearing from time to time in the London Fun, the 'Bab +Ballads' were published in book form in 1870, everybody, young and old, +found them provocative of hearty laughter. "Much sound and little +sense," was the title-page motto. Perhaps the fact that Mr. Gilbert's +readers did not know why they laughed was one great charm of the +ballads. The humor was felt, not analyzed, and involved no mental +fatigue. If there was "little sense," no continuity of meaning, there +was usually significant suggestion; and social foibles were touched off +with good-natured irony in a delightfully inconsequent fashion. The +"much sound" was a spirited lyric swing which clung to the memory, +a rich rhythm, and a rollicking spontaneity, which disregarded +considerations of grammar and pronunciation in a way that only added +to the fun. + +The 'Bab Ballads,' and 'More Bab Ballads' which appeared in 1872, have +become classic. In many of them may be found the germs of the librettos +which have made Gilbert famous in comic opera. 'Pinafore,' 'The Mikado,' +'Patience,' and many others of a long and well-known list written to Sir +Arthur Sullivan's music, have furnished the public with many popular +songs. A volume of dainty lyrics has been made up from them; and, +entitled 'Songs of a Savoyard' (from the Savoy Theatre of London, where +the operas were first represented), was published in 1890. + +Mr. Gilbert was born in London November 18th, 1836, and educated in that +city; after his graduation from the University of London he studied law, +and was called to the bar of the Inner Temple in 1863. Five years later +he became a captain of the Royal Aberdeenshire Highlanders. The success +of his first play, 'Dulcamara,' in 1866, led him to abandon the law, and +he has since devoted himself to authorship. + + + +CAPTAIN REECE + + + Of all the ships upon the blue, + No ship contained a better crew + Than that of worthy Captain Reece, + Commanding of The Mantlepiece. + + He was adored by all his men, + For worthy Captain Reece, R.N., + Did all that lay within him to + Promote the comfort of his crew. + + If ever they were dull or sad, + Their captain danced to them like mad, + Or told, to make the time pass by, + Droll legends of his infancy. + + A feather-bed had every man, + Warm slippers and hot-water can, + Brown Windsor from the captain's store; + A valet, too, to every four. + + Did they with thirst in summer burn, + Lo! seltzogenes at every turn; + And on all very sultry days + Cream ices handed round on trays. + + Then, currant wine and ginger pops + Stood handily on all the "tops"; + And also, with amusement rife, + A "Zoetrope, or Wheel of Life." + + New volumes came across the sea + From Mr. Mudie's libraree; + The Times and Saturday Review + Beguiled the leisure of the crew. + + Kind-hearted Captain Reece, R.N., + Was quite devoted to his men; + In point of fact, good Captain Reece + Beatified The Mantelpiece. + + One summer eve, at half-past ten, + He said (addressing all his men):-- + "Come, tell me, please, what I can do + To please and gratify my crew. + + "By any reasonable plan + I'll make you happy if I can,-- + My own convenience count as _nil:_ + It is my duty, and I will." + + Then up and answered William Lee + (The kindly captain's coxwain he, + A nervous, shy, low-spoken man); + He cleared his throat, and thus began:-- + + "You have a daughter, Captain Reece, + Ten female cousins and a niece, + A ma, if what I'm told is true, + Six sisters, and an aunt or two. + + "Now, somehow, sir, it seems to me, + More friendly-like we all should be, + If you united of 'em to + Unmarried members of the crew. + + "If you'd ameliorate our life, + Let each select from them a wife; + And as for nervous me, old pal, + Give me your own enchanting gal!" + + Good Captain Reece, that worthy man, + Debated on his coxwain's plan:-- + "I quite agree," he said, "O Bill: + It is my duty, and I will. + + "My daughter, that enchanting gurl, + Has just been promised to an Earl, + And all my other familee + To peers of various degree. + + "But what are dukes and viscounts to + The happiness of all my crew? + The word I gave you I'll fulfill; + It is my duty, and I will. + + "As you desire it shall befall; + I'll settle thousands on you all, + And I shall be, despite my hoard, + The only bachelor on board." + + The boatswain of the Mantelpiece, + He blushed and spoke to Captain Reece:-- + "I beg your Honor's leave," he said:-- + "If you would wish to go and wed, + + "I have a widowed mother who + Would be the very thing for you-- + She long has loved you from afar: + She washes for you, Captain R." + + The captain saw the dame that day-- + Addressed her in his playful way:-- + "And did it want a wedding ring? + It was a tempting ickle sing! + + "Well, well, the chaplain I will seek, + We'll all be married this day week + At yonder church upon the hill; + It is my duty, and I will!" + + The sisters, cousins, aunts, and niece, + And widowed ma of Captain Reece, + Attended there as they were bid: + It was their duty, and they did. + + + +THE YARN OF THE NANCY BELL + + + 'Twas on the shores that round our coast + From Deal to Ramsgate span, + That I found alone on a piece of stone + An elderly naval man. + + His hair was weedy, his beard was long, + And weedy and long was he; + And I heard this wight on the shore recite, + In a singular minor key:-- + + "Oh, I am a cook, and a captain bold, + And the mate of the Nancy brig, + And a bo'sun tight, and a midshipmite, + And the crew of the captain's gig." + + And he shook his fists and he tore his hair, + Till I really felt afraid, + For I couldn't help thinking the man had been drinking, + And so I simply said:-- + + "O elderly man, it's little I know + Of the duties of men of the sea, + And I'll eat my hand if I understand + However you can be + + "At once a cook, and a captain bold, + And the mate of the Nancy brig, + And a bo'sun tight, and a midshipmite, + And the crew of the captain's gig." + + And he gave a hitch to his trousers, which + Is a trick all seamen larn, + And having got rid of a thumping quid, + He spun his painful yarn:-- + + "'Twas in the good ship Nancy Bell + That we sailed to the Indian Sea, + And there on a reef we come to grief, + Which has often occurred to me. + + "And pretty nigh all the crew was drowned + (There was seventy-seven o' soul), + And only ten of the Nancy's men + Said 'Here!' to the muster-roll. + + "There was me and the cook and the captain bold, + And the mate of the Nancy brig, + And the bo'sun tight, and a midshipmite, + And the crew of the captain's gig. + + "For a month we'd neither wittles nor drink, + Till a-hungry we did feel; + So we drawed a lot, and accordin', shot + The captain for our meal. + + "The next lot fell to the Nancy's mate, + And a delicate dish he made; + Then our appetite with the midshipmite + We seven survivors stayed. + + "And then we murdered the bo'sun tight, + And he much resembled pig; + Then we wittled free, did the cook and me + On the crew of the captain's gig. + + "Then only the cook and me was left, + And the delicate question, 'Which + Of us two goes to the kettle?' arose, + And we argued it out as sich. + + "For I loved that cook as a brother, I did, + And the cook he worshiped me; + But we'd both be blowed if we'd either be stowed + In the other chap's hold, you see. + + "'I'll be eat if you dines off me,' says Tom; + 'Yes, that,' says I, 'you'll be: + I'm boiled if I die, my friend,' quoth I; + And 'Exactly so,' quoth he. + + "Says he, 'Dear James, to murder me + Were a foolish thing to do, + For don't you see that you can't cook _me_, + While I can--and will--cook _you_?' + + "So he boils the water, and takes the salt + And the pepper in portions true + (Which he never forgot), and some chopped shalot, + And some sage and parsley too. + + "'Come here,' says he, with a proper pride, + Which his smiling features tell; + "'Twill soothing be if I let you see + How extremely nice you'll smell.' + + "And he stirred it round and round and round, + And he sniffed at the foaming froth; + When I ups with his heels, and smothers his squeals + In the scum of the boiling broth. + + "And I eat that cook in a week or less, + And--as I eating be + The last of his chops, why, I almost drops, + For a wessel in sight I see! + + * * * * * + + "And I never larf, and I never smile, + And I never lark nor play, + But sit and croak, and a single joke + I have--which is to say:-- + + "'Oh, I am a cook, and a captain bold, + And the mate of the Nancy brig, + And a bo'sun tight, and a midshipmite, + And the crew of the captain's gig!'" + + + +THE BISHOP OF RUM-TI-FOO + + + From east and south the holy clan + Of bishops gathered to a man; + To Synod, called Pan-Anglican, + In flocking crowds they came. + Among them was a bishop who + Had lately been appointed to + The balmy isle of Rum-ti-Foo, + And Peter was his name. + + His people--twenty-three in sum-- + They played the eloquent tum-tum, + And lived on scalps served up in rum-- + The only sauce they knew. + When first good Bishop Peter came + (For Peter was that bishop's name), + To humor them, he did the same + As they of Rum-ti-Foo. + + His flock, I've often heard him tell, + (His name was Peter) loved him well, + And summoned by the sound of bell, + In crowds together came. + "Oh, massa, why you go away? + Oh, Massa Peter, please to stay." + (They called him Peter, people say, + Because it was his name.) + + He told them all good boys to be, + And sailed away across the sea; + At London Bridge that bishop he + Arrived one Tuesday night; + And as that night he homeward strode + To his Pan-Anglican abode, + He passed along the Borough Road, + And saw a gruesome sight. + + He saw a crowd assembled round + A person dancing on the ground, + Who straight began to leap and bound + With all his might and main. + To see that dancing man he stopped, + Who twirled and wriggled, skipped and hopped, + Then down incontinently dropped, + And then sprang up again. + + The bishop chuckled at the sight. + "This style of dancing would delight + A simple Rum-ti-Foozleite: + I'll learn it if I can, + To please the tribe when I get back." + He begged the man to teach his knack. + "Right reverend sir, in half a crack!" + Replied that dancing man. + + The dancing man he worked away, + And taught the bishop every day; + The dancer skipped like any fay-- + Good Peter did the same. + The bishop buckled to his task, + With _battements_ and _pas de basque_. + (I'll tell you, if you care to ask, + That Peter was his name.) + + "Come, walk like this," the dancer said; + "Stick out your toes--stick in your head, + Stalk on with quick, galvanic tread-- + Your fingers thus extend; + The attitude's considered quaint." + The weary bishop, feeling faint, + Replied, "I do not say it ain't, + But 'Time!' my Christian friend!" + + "We now proceed to something new: + Dance as the Paynes and Lauris do, + Like this--one, two--one, two--one, two." + The bishop, never proud, + But in an overwhelming heat + (His name was Peter, I repeat) + Performed the Payne and Lauri feat, + And puffed his thanks aloud. + + Another game the dancer planned: + "Just take your ankle in your hand, + And try, my lord, if you can stand-- + Your body stiff and stark. + If when revisiting your see + You learnt to hop on shore, like me, + The novelty would striking be, + And must attract remark." + + "No," said the worthy bishop, "no; + That is a length to which, I trow, + Colonial bishops cannot go. + You may express surprise + At finding bishops deal in pride-- + But if that trick I ever tried, + I should appear undignified + In Rum-ti-Foozle's eyes. + + "The islanders of Rum-ti-Foo + Are well-conducted persons, who + Approve a joke as much as you, + And laugh at it as such; + But if they saw their bishop land, + His leg supported in his hand, + The joke they wouldn't understand-- + 'Twould pain them very much!" + + + +GENTLE ALICE BROWN + + + It was a robber's daughter, and her name was Alice Brown; + Her father was the terror of a small Italian town; + Her mother was a foolish, weak, but amiable old thing: + But it isn't of her parents that I'm going for to sing. + + As Alice was a-sitting at her window-sill one day, + A beautiful young gentleman he chanced to pass that way; + She cast her eyes upon him, and he looked so good and true, + That she thought, "I could be happy with a gentleman like you!" + + And every morning passed her house that cream of gentlemen; + She knew she might expect him at a quarter unto ten; + A sorter in the Custom-house, it was his daily road + (The Custom-house was fifteen minutes' walk from her abode). + + But Alice was a pious girl, who knew it wasn't wise + To look at strange young sorters with expressive purple eyes; + So she sought the village priest to whom her family confessed, + The priest by whom their little sins were carefully assessed. + + "O holy father," Alice said, "'twould grieve you, would it not, + To discover that I was a most disreputable lot? + Of all unhappy sinners I'm the most unhappy one!" + The padre said, "Whatever have you been and gone and done?" + + "I have helped mamma to steal a little kiddy from its dad, + I've assisted dear papa in cutting up a little lad, + I've planned a little burglary and forged a little cheque, + And slain a little baby for the coral on its neck!" + + The worthy pastor heaved a sigh, and dropped a silent tear, + And said, "You mustn't judge yourself too heavily, my dear: + It's wrong to murder babies, little corals for to fleece; + But sins like these one expiates at half-a-crown apiece. + + "Girls will be girls--you're very young, and flighty in your mind; + Old heads upon young shoulders we must not expect to find; + We mustn't be too hard upon these little girlish tricks-- + Let's see--five crimes at half-a-crown--exactly twelve-and-six." + + "O father," little Alice cried, "your kindness makes me weep, + You do these little things for me so singularly cheap; + Your thoughtful liberality I never can forget; + But oh! there is another crime I haven't mentioned yet! + + "A pleasant-looking gentleman, with pretty purple eyes, + I've noticed at my window, as I've sat a-catching flies; + He passes by it every day as certain as can be-- + I blush to say I've winked at him and he has winked at me!" + + "For shame!" said Father Paul, "my erring daughter! On my word, + This is the most distressing news that I have ever heard. + Why, naughty girl, your excellent papa has pledged your hand + To a promising young robber, the lieutenant of his band! + + "This dreadful piece of news will pain your worthy parents so! + They are the most remunerative customers I know; + For many, many years they've kept starvation from my doors: + I never knew so criminal a family as yours! + + "The common country folk in this insipid neighborhood + Have nothing to confess, they're so ridiculously good; + And if you marry any one respectable at all, + Why, you'll reform, and what will then become of Father Paul?" + + The worthy priest, he up and drew his cowl upon his crown, + And started off in haste to tell the news to Robber Brown-- + To tell him how his daughter, who was now for marriage fit, + Had winked upon a sorter, who reciprocated it. + + Good Robber Brown he muffled up his anger pretty well; + He said, "I have a notion, and that notion I will tell: + I will nab this gay young sorter, terrify him into fits, + And get my gentle wife to chop him into little bits. + + "I've studied human nature, and I know a thing or two: + Though a girl may fondly love a living gent, as many do-- + A feeling of disgust upon her senses there will fall + When she looks upon his body chopped particularly small." + + He traced that gallant sorter to a still suburban square; + He watched his opportunity, and seized him unaware; + He took a life-preserver and he hit him on the head, + And Mrs. Brown dissected him before she went to bed. + + And pretty little Alice grew more settled in her mind; + She never more was guilty of a weakness of the kind; + Until at length good Robber Brown bestowed her pretty hand + On the promising young robber, the lieutenant of his band. + + + +THE CAPTAIN AND THE MERMAIDS + + + I sing a legend of the sea, + So hard-a-port upon your lee! + A ship on starboard tack! + She's bound upon a private cruise-- + (This is the kind of spice I use + To give a salt-sea smack). + + Behold, on every afternoon + (Save in a gale or strong monsoon) + Great Captain Capel Cleggs + (Great morally, though rather short) + Sat at an open weather-port + And aired his shapely legs. + + And mermaids hung around in flocks, + On cable chains and distant rocks, + To gaze upon those limbs; + For legs like those, of flesh and bone, + Are things "not generally known" + To any merman timbs. + + But mermen didn't seem to care + Much time (as far as I'm aware) + With Cleggs's legs to spend; + Though mermaids swam around all day + And gazed, exclaiming, "_That's_ the way + A gentleman should end! + + "A pair of legs with well-cut knees, + And calves and ankles such as these + Which we in rapture hail, + Are far more eloquent, it's clear + (When clothed in silk and kerseymere), + Than any nasty tail." + + And Cleggs--a worthy, kind old boy-- + Rejoiced to add to others' joy, + And when the day was dry, + Because it pleased the lookers-on, + He sat from morn till night--though con- + Stitutionally shy. + + At first the mermen laughed, "Pooh! pooh!" + But finally they jealous grew, + And sounded loud recalls; + But vainly. So these fishy males + Declared they too would clothe their tails + In silken hose and smalls. + + They set to work, these watermen, + And made their nether robes--but when + They drew with dainty touch + The kerseymere upon their tails, + They found it scraped against their scales, + And hurt them very much. + + The silk, besides, with which they chose + To deck their tails by way of hose + (They never thought of shoon) + For such a use was much too thin,-- + It tore against the caudal fin, + And "went in ladders" soon. + + So they designed another plan: + They sent their most seductive man, + This note to him to show:-- + "Our Monarch sends to Captain Cleggs + His humble compliments, and begs + He'll join him down below; + + "We've pleasant homes below the sea-- + Besides, if Captain Cleggs should be + (As our advices say) + A judge of mermaids, he will find + Our lady fish of every kind + Inspection will repay." + + Good Capel sent a kind reply, + For Capel thought he could descry + An admirable plan + To study all their ways and laws-- + (But not their lady fish, because + He was a married man). + + The merman sank--the captain too + Jumped overboard, and dropped from view + Like stone from catapult; + And when he reached the merman's lair, + He certainly was welcomed there, + But ah! with what result! + + They didn't let him learn their law, + Or make a note of what he saw, + Or interesting mem.; + The lady fish he couldn't find, + But that, of course, he didn't mind-- + He didn't come for them. + + For though when Captain Capel sank, + The mermen drawn in double rank + Gave him a hearty hail, + Yet when secure of Captain Cleggs, + They cut off both his lovely legs, + And gave him _such_ a tail! + + When Captain Cleggs returned aboard, + His blithesome crew convulsive roar'd, + To see him altered so. + The admiralty did insist + That he upon the half-pay list + Immediately should go. + + In vain declared the poor old salt, + "It's my misfortune--not my fault," + With tear and trembling lip-- + In vain poor Capel begged and begged. + "A man must be completely legged + Who rules a British ship." + + So spake the stern First Lord aloud,-- + He was a wag, though very proud,-- + And much rejoiced to say, + "You're only half a captain now-- + And so, my worthy friend, I vow + You'll only get half-pay!" + + All the above selections are made from 'Fifty Bab Ballads.' + + + + +RICHARD WATSON GILDER + +(1844-) + +[Illustration: RICHARD W. GILDER] + + +Richard Watson Gilder is the son of a clergyman, the Rev. William H. +Gilder, who published two literary reviews in Philadelphia. He was born +in Bordentown, New Jersey, February 8th, 1844, and with such ancestry +and home influence came easily to journalism and literary work. He got +his schooling in the Bellevue Seminary, which was founded by his father. +As with so many young Americans of the time, the war came to interrupt +his studies; and in 1863 he served in the "Emergency Corps," in the +defense of Carlisle, Pennsylvania. Mr. Gilder is one of the American +writers who have successfully combined journalism and literature. He +began by doing newspaper work, and then by a natural transition became +in 1869 editor of Hours at Home, and shortly thereafter associate editor +of Scribner's Magazine with Dr. J. G. Holland. This representative +monthly was changed in name to The Century, and upon the death of Dr. +Holland in 1881 Mr. Gilder became its editor-in-chief. His influence in +this conspicuous position has been wholesome and helpful in the +encouraging of literature, and in the discussion of current questions of +importance through a popular medium which reaches great numbers of the +American people. The Century under his direction has been receptive to +young writers and artists of ability, and many since known to fame made +their maiden appearance in its pages. + +In addition to his influence on the literary movement, Mr. Gilder has +been active in philanthropic and political work. He has secured +legislation for the improvement of tenements in cities; he has taken +interest in the formation of public kindergartens; and given of his time +and strength to further other reforms. His influence in New York City, +too, has been a factor in developing the social aspects of literary and +art life there. From Dickinson College he has received the degree of +LL.D., and from Princeton that of L.H.D. + +Mr. Gilder's reputation as a writer is based upon his verse. Only very +occasionally does he publish an essay, though thoughtful, strongly +written editorials from his pen in his magazine are frequent. But it is +his verse-writing that has given him his place--a distinct and honorable +one--in American letters. The fine quality and promise of his work was +recognized upon the publication of 'The New Day' in 1875, a first volume +which was warmly received. It showed the influence of Italian studies, +and contained lyric work of much imaginative beauty. The musicalness of +it and the delicately ideal treatment of the love passion were +noticeable characteristics. In his subsequent books--'The Celestial +Passion,' 1887; 'Lyrics,' 1885 and 1887; 'Two Worlds, and Other Poems,' +1891; 'The Great Remembrance, and Other Poems,' 1893: the contents of +these being gathered finally into the one volume 'Five Books of Song,' +1894--he has given further proof of his genuine lyric gift, his work in +later years having a wider range of themes, a broadening vision and +deepening purpose. He remains nevertheless essentially a lyrist, a maker +of songs; a thorough artist who has seriousness, dignity, and charm. His +is an earnest nature, sensitive alike to vital contemporaneous problems +and to the honey-sweet voice of the Ideal. + + + + [All the following citations from Mr. Gilder's poems are + copyrighted, and are reprinted here by special permission + of the author and his publishers.] + + + +TWO SONGS FROM 'THE NEW DAY' + + +I + + Not from the whole wide world I chose thee, + Sweetheart, light of the land and the sea! + The wide, wide world could not inclose thee-- + For thou art the whole wide world to me. + + +II + + Years have flown since I knew thee first, + And I know thee as water is known of thirst; + Yet I knew thee of old at the first sweet sight, + And thou art strange to me, Love, to-night. + + + +"ROSE-DARK THE SOLEMN SUNSET" + + + Rose-dark the solemn sunset + That holds my thought of thee; + With one star in the heavens + And one star in the sea. + + On high no lamp is lighted, + Nor where the long waves flow. + Save the one star of evening + And the shadow star below. + + Light of my life, the darkness + Comes with the twilight dream; + Thou art the bright star shining, + And I but the shadowy gleam. + + + +NON SINE DOLORE + + + What, then, is Life,--what Death? + Thus the Answerer saith; + O faithless mortal, bend thy head and listen: + + Down o'er the vibrant strings, + That thrill, and moan, and mourn, and glisten, + The Master draws his bow. + A voiceless pause: then upward, see, it springs, + Free as a bird with unimprisoned wings! + In twain the chord was cloven, + While, shaken with woe, + With breaks of instant joy all interwoven, + Piercing the heart with lyric knife, + On, on the ceaseless music sings, + Restless, intense, serene;-- + Life is the downward stroke; the upward, Life; + Death but the pause between. + + Then spake the Questioner: If 't were only this, + Ah, who could face the abyss + That plunges steep athwart each human breath? + If the new birth of Death + Meant only more of Life as mortals know it, + What priestly balm, what song of highest poet, + Could heal one sentient soul's immitigable pain? + All, all were vain! + If, having soared pure spirit at the last, + Free from the impertinence and warp of flesh + We find half joy, half pain, on every blast; + Are caught again in closer-woven mesh-- + Ah! who would care to die + From out these fields and hills, and this familiar sky; + These firm, sure hands that compass us, this dear humanity? + + Again the Answerer saith:-- + O ye of little faith, + Shall then the spirit prove craven, + And Death's divine deliverance but give + A summer rest and haven? + By all most noble in us, by the light that streams + Into our waking dreams, + Ah, we who know what Life is, let us live! + Clearer and freer, who shall doubt? + Something of dust and darkness cast forever out; + But Life, still Life, that leads to higher Life, + Even though the highest be not free from immortal strife. + + The highest! Soul of man, oh be thou bold, + And to the brink of thought draw near, behold! + Where, on the earth's green sod, + Where, where in all the universe of God, + Hath strife forever ceased? + When hath not some great orb flashed into space + The terror of its doom? When hath no human face + Turned earthward in despair, + For that some horrid sin had stamped its image there? + + If at our passing Life be Life increased, + And we ourselves flame pure unfettered soul, + Like the Eternal Power that made the whole + And lives in all he made + From shore of matter to the unknown spirit shore; + If, sire to son, and tree to limb, + Cycle on countless cycle more and more + We grow to be like him; + If he lives on, serene and unafraid, + Through all his light, his love, his living thought, + One with the sufferer, be it soul or star; + If he escape not pain, what beings that are + Can e'er escape while Life leads on and up the unseen way and far? + If he escape not, by whom all was wrought, + Then shall not we, + Whate'er of godlike solace still may be,-- + For in all worlds there is no Life without a pang, and can be naught. + + No Life without a pang! It were not Life, + If ended were the strife-- + Man were not man, nor God were truly God! + See from the sod + The lark thrill skyward in an arrow of song: + Even so from pain and wrong + Upsprings the exultant spirit, wild and free. + He knows not all the joy of liberty + Who never yet was crushed 'neath heavy woe. + He doth not know, + Nor can, the bliss of being brave + Who never hath faced death, nor with unquailing eye + Hath measured his own grave. + Courage, and pity, and divinest scorn-- + Self-scorn, self-pity, and high courage of the soul; + The passion for the goal; + The strength to never yield though all be lost-- + All these are born + Of endless strife; this is the eternal cost + Of every lovely thought that through the portal + Of human minds doth pass with following light. + Blanch not, O trembling mortal! + But with extreme and terrible delight + Know thou the truth, + Nor let thy heart be heavy with false ruth. + + No passing burden is our earthly sorrow, + That shall depart in some mysterious morrow. + 'Tis His one universe where'er we are-- + One changeless law from sun to viewless star. + Were sorrow evil here, evil it were forever, + Beyond the scope and help of our most keen endeavor + God doth not dote, + His everlasting purpose shall not fail. + Here where our ears are weary with the wail + And weeping of the sufferers; there where the Pleiads float-- + Here, there, forever, pain most dread and dire + Doth bring the intensest bliss, the dearest and most sure. + 'Tis not from Life aside, it doth endure + Deep in the secret heart of all existence. + It is the inward fire, + The heavenly urge, and the divine insistence. + Uplift thine eyes, O Questioner, from the sod! + It were no longer Life, + If ended were the strife; + Man were not man, God were not truly God. + + + +"HOW PADEREWSKI PLAYS" + + +I + + If songs were perfume, color, wild desire; + If poets' words were fire + That burned to blood in purple-pulsing veins; + If with a bird-like thrill the moments throbbed to hours; + If summer's rains + Turned drop by drop to shy, sweet, maiden flowers; + If God made flowers with light and music in them, + And saddened hearts could win them; + If loosened petals touched the ground + With a caressing sound; + If love's eyes uttered word + No listening lover e'er before had heard; + If silent thoughts spake with a bugle's voice; + If flame passed into song and cried, "Rejoice! Rejoice!" + If words could picture life's, hope's, heaven's eclipse + When the last kiss has fallen on dying eyes and lips; + If all of mortal woe + Struck on one heart with breathless blow on blow; + If melody were tears, and tears were starry gleams + That shone in evening's amethystine dreams; + Ah yes, if notes were stars, each star a different hue, + Trembling to earth in dew; + Or if the boreal pulsings, rose and white, + Made a majestic music in the night; + If all the orbs lost in the light of day + In the deep, silent blue began their harps to play; + And when in frightening skies the lightnings flashed + And storm-clouds crashed, + If every stroke of light and sound were but excess of beauty; + If human syllables could e'er refashion + That fierce electric passion; + If other art could match (as were the poet's duty) + The grieving, and the rapture, and the thunder + Of that keen hour of wonder,-- + That light as if of heaven, that blackness as of hell,-- + How Paderewski plays then might I dare to tell. + + +II + + How Paderewski plays! And was it he + Or some disbodied spirit which had rushed + From silence into singing; and had crushed + Into one startled hour a life's felicity, + And highest bliss of knowledge--that all life, grief, wrong, + Turn at the last to beauty and to song! + + + +THE SONNET + + + What is a sonnet? 'Tis the pearly shell + That murmurs of the far-off murmuring sea; + A precious jewel carved most curiously; + It is a little picture painted well. + What is a sonnet? 'Tis the tear that fell + From a great poet's hidden ecstasy; + A two-edged sword, a star, a song--ah me! + Sometimes a heavy-tolling funeral bell. + This was the flame that shook with Dante's breath; + The solemn organ whereon Milton played, + And the clear glass where Shakespeare's shadow falls: + A sea this is--beware who ventureth! + For like a fiord the narrow floor is laid + Mid-ocean deep to the sheer mountain walls. + + + +AMERICA + +From 'The Great Remembrance' + + + Land that we love! Thou Future of the World! + Thou refuge of the noble heart oppressed! + Oh, never be thy shining image hurled + From its high place in the adoring breast + Of him who worships thee with jealous love! + Keep thou thy starry forehead as the dove + All white, and to the eternal Dawn inclined! + Thou art not for thyself, but for mankind, + And to despair of thee were to despair + Of man, of man's high destiny, of God! + Of thee should man despair, the journey trod + Upward, through unknown eons, stair on stair, + By this our race, with bleeding feet and slow, + Were but the pathway to a darker woe + Than yet was visioned by the heavy heart + Of prophet. To despair of thee! Ah no! + For thou thyself art Hope; Hope of the World thou art! + + + +ON THE LIFE-MASK OF ABRAHAM LINCOLN + + + This bronze doth keep the very form and mold + Of our great martyr's face. Yes, this is he: + That brow all wisdom, all benignity; + That human, humorous mouth; those cheeks that hold + Like some harsh landscape all the summer's gold; + That spirit fit for sorrow, as the sea + For storms to beat on; the lone agony + Those silent, patient lips too well foretold. + Yes, this is he who ruled a world of men + As might some prophet of the elder day-- + Brooding above the tempest and the fray + With deep-eyed thought and more than mortal ken. + A power was his beyond the touch of art + Or armed strength--his pure and mighty heart. + + + +"CALL ME NOT DEAD" + + + Call me not dead when I, indeed, have gone + Into the company of the ever-living + High and most glorious poets! Let thanksgiving + Rather be made. Say:--"He at last hath won + Rest and release, converse supreme and wise, + Music and song and light of immortal faces; + To-day, perhaps, wandering in starry places, + He hath met Keats, and known him by his eyes. + To-morrow (who can say?) Shakespeare may pass, + And our lost friend just catch one syllable + Of that three-centuried wit that kept so well; + Or Milton; or Dante, looking on the grass + Thinking of Beatrice, and listening still + To chanted hymns that sound from the heavenly hill." + + + +AFTER-SONG + +From 'The New Day' + + + Through love to light! Oh, wonderful the way + That leads from darkness to the perfect day! + From darkness and from sorrow of the night + To morning that comes singing o'er the sea. + Through love to light! Through light, O God, to thee, + Who art the love of love, the eternal light of light! + + + + +GIUSEPPE GIUSTI + +(1809-1850) + +[Illustration: GIUSEPPE GIUSTI] + + +Giuseppe Giusti, an Italian satirical poet, was born of an influential +family, May 12th, 1809, in the little village of Monsummano, which lies +between Pistoja and Pescia, and was in every fibre of his nature a +Tuscan. As a child he imbibed the healthful, sunny atmosphere of that +Campagna, and grew up loving the world and his comrades, but with a +dislike of study which convinced himself and his friends that he was +born to no purpose. He was early destined to the bar, and began his law +studies in Pistoja and Lucca, completing them a number of years later at +Pisa, where he obtained his degree of doctor. + +In 1834 he went to Florence, under pretence of practicing with the +advocate Capoquadri; but here as elsewhere he spent his time in the +world of gayety, whose fascination and whose absurdity he seems to have +felt with equal keenness. His dislike of study found its exception in +his love of Dante, of whom he was a reverent student. He was himself +continually versifying, and his early romantic lyrics are inspired by +lofty thought. His penetrating humor, however, and his instinctive +sarcasm, whose expression was never unkind, led him soon to abandon +idealism and to distinguish himself in the field of satire, which has no +purer representative than he. His compositions are short and terse, and +are seldom blemished by personalities. He was wont to say that absurd +persons did not merit even the fame of infamy. He leveled his wit +against the lethargy and immoralities of the times, and revealed them +clear-cut in the light of his own stern principles and patriotism. + +The admiration and confidence which he now began to receive from the +public was to him a matter almost of consternation, wont as he was to +consider himself a good-for-nothing. He confesses somewhat bashfully +however that there was always within him, half afraid of itself, an +instinct of power which led him to say in his heart, Who knows what I +may be with time? His frail constitution and almost incessant physical +suffering account for a natural indolence against which he constantly +inveighs, but above which he was powerless to rise except at vehement +intervals. No carelessness, however, marks his work. He was a tireless +reviser, and possessed the rare power of cutting, polishing, and +finishing his work with exquisite nicety, without robbing it of vigor. +His writings exerted a distinct political and moral influence. His is +not alone the voice of pitiless and mocking irony, but it is that of the +humanitarian, who in overthrow and destruction sees only the first step +toward the creation of something better. When war broke out he laid +aside his pen, saying that this was no time for a poet to pull down, and +that his was not the power to build up. His health forbade his entering +the army, which was a cause of poignant sorrow to him. His faith in +Italy and her people and in the final triumph of unity remained unshaken +and sublime in the midst of every reverse. + +His mastery of the Tuscan dialect and his elegance of idiom won him +membership in the Accademia della Crusca; but his love for Tuscany was +always subservient to his love for Italy. To those who favored the +division of the peninsula, he used to reply that he had but one +fatherland, and that was a unit. He died in Florence, March 31, 1850, at +the home of his devoted friend the Marquis Gino Capponi. In the teeth of +Austrian prohibition, a throng of grateful and loving citizens followed +his body to the church of San Miniato al Monte, remembering that at a +time when freedom of thought was deemed treason, this man had fearlessly +raised the battle-cry and prepared the way for the insurrection of 1848. +Besides his satires, Giusti has left us a life of the poet Giuseppe +Parini, a collection of Tuscan proverbs, and an unedited essay on the +'Divine Comedy.' + + + +LULLABY + +From 'Gingillino' + + [The poem of 'Gingillino,' one of Giusti's finest satires, is + full of personal hits, greatly enjoyed by the author's + countrymen. The 'Lullaby' is sung by a number of personified + Vices round the cradle of the infant Gingillino, who, having + come into the world naked and possessed of nothing, is + admonished how to behave if he would go out of it well dressed + and rich. A few verses only are given out of the many. The + whole poem was one of the most popular of all Giusti's + satires.] + + + Cry not, dear baby, + Of nothing possessed; + But if thou wouldst, dear, + Expire well dressed.... + + Let nothing vex thee,-- + Love's silly story, + Ghosts of grand festivals + Spectres of glory; + + Let naught annoy thee: + The burdens of fame, + The manifold perils + That wait on a name. + + Content thyself, baby, + With learning to read: + Don't be vainglorious; + That's all thou canst need. + + All promptings of genius + Confine in thy breast, + If thou wouldst, baby, + Expire well dressed.... + + Let not God nor Devil + Concern thy poor wits, + And tell no more truth + Than politeness permits. + + With thy soul and thy body, + Still worship the Real; + Nor ever attempt + To pursue the Ideal. + + As for thy scruples, + Let them be suppressed, + If thou wouldst, baby, + Expire well dressed. + + Translated for 'A Library of the World's Best Literature.' + + + +THE STEAM-GUILLOTINE + + [The monarch satirized in this poem was Francesco IV., Duke of + Modena, a petty Nero, who executed not a few of the Italian + patriots of 1831.] + + + A most wonderful steam-machine, + One time set up in China-land, + Outdid the insatiate guillotine, + For in three hours, you understand, + It cut off a hundred thousand heads + In a row, like hospital beds. + + This innovation stirred a breeze, + And some of the bonzes even thought + Their barbarous country by degrees + To civilization might be brought, + Leaving Europeans, with their schools, + Looking like fools. + + The Emperor was an honest man-- + A little stiff, and dull of pate; + Like other asses, hard and slow. + He loved his subjects and the State, + And patronized all clever men + Within his ken. + + His people did not like to pay + Their taxes and their other dues,-- + They cheated the revenue, sad to say: + So their good ruler thought he'd choose + As the best argument he'd seen, + This sweet machine. + + The thing's achievements were so great, + They gained a pension for the man,-- + The executioner of State,-- + Who got a patent for his plan, + Besides becoming a Mandarin + Of great Pekin. + + A courtier cried: "Good guillotine! + Let's up and christen it, I say!" + "Ah, why," cries to his counselor keen + A Nero of our present day, + "Why was not born within _my_ State + A man so great?" + + Translated for 'A Library of the World's Best Literature.' + + + + +[Illustration: WILLIAM E. GLADSTONE.] + + + + +WILLIAM EWART GLADSTONE + +(1809-) + + +In view of his distinguished career, it is interesting to know that it +is a part of Mr. Gladstone's unresting ambition to take a place among +the literary men of the time, and to guide the thoughts of his +countrymen in literary as well as in political, social, and economic +subjects. Mr. Gladstone's preparation to become a man of letters was +extensive. Born in Liverpool December 29th, 1809, he was sent to Eton +and afterwards to Oxford, where he took the highest honors, and was the +most remarkable graduate of his generation. His fellow students carried +away a vivid recollection of his _viva voce_ examination for his degree: +the tall figure, the flashing eye, the mobile countenance, in the midst +of the crowd who pressed to hear him, while the examiners plied him with +questions till, tested in some difficult point in theology, the +candidate exclaimed, "Not yet, if you please" and began to pour forth a +fresh store of learning and argument. + +From the university Mr. Gladstone carried away two passions--the one for +Greek literature, especially Greek poetry, the other for Christian +theology. The Oxford that formed these tastes was intensely conservative +in politics, representing the aristocratic system of English society and +the exclusiveness of the Established Church, whose creed was that of the +fourth century. Ecclesiasticism is not friendly to literature; but how +far Oxford's most loyal son was permeated by ecclesiasticism is a matter +of opinion. Fortunately, personality is stronger than dogma, and ideas +than literary form; and Mr. Gladstone, than whom few men outside the +profession of letters have written more, is always sure of an +intelligent hearing. His discussion of a subject seems to invest it with +some of his own marvelous vitality; and when he selects a book for +review, he is said to make the fortune of both publisher and author, if +only the title be used as a crotchet to hang his sermon on. + +And this not merely because curiosity is excited concerning the opinion +of the greatest living Englishman (for notwithstanding his political +vacillations, his views on inward and higher subjects have little +changed since his Oxford days, and may easily be prognosticated), but on +account of the subtlety and fertility of his mind and the adroitness of +his argument. Plunging into the heart of the subject, he is at the same +time working round it, holding it up for inspection in one light and +then in another, reasoning from this premise and that; while the string +of elucidations and explanations grows longer and longer, and the +atmosphere of complexity thickens. It was out of such an atmosphere that +a barrister advised his client, a bigamist, to get Mr. Gladstone to +explain away one of his wives. + +When Mr. Gladstone made his debut as an author, he locked horns with +Macaulay in the characteristic paper 'Church and State' (1837). He +published his 'Studies in Homer and the Homeric Age' in 1858, 'Juventus +Mundi' in 1869, 'Homeric Synchronism' in 1857. In 1879 most of his +essays, political, social, economic, religious, and literary, written +between 1843 and 1879, were collected in seven volumes, and appeared +under the title of 'Gleanings of Past Years.' He has published a very +great number of smaller writings not reprinted. + +From that time to the present, neither his industry nor his energy has +abated; but he is probably at his best in the several remarkable essays +on Blanco White, Bishop Patterson, Tennyson, Leopardi, and the position +of the Church of England. The reader spoiled for the Scotch quality of +weight by the "light touch" which is the graceful weapon of the age, +wonders, when reading these essays, that Mr. Gladstone has not more +assiduously cultivated the instinct of style,--sentence-making. Milton +himself has not a higher conception of the business of literature; and +when discussing these congenial themes, Mr. Gladstone's enthusiasm does +not degenerate into vehemence, nor does he descend from the high moral +plane from which he views the world. + +It is the province of the specialist to appraise Mr. Gladstone's Homeric +writings; but even the specialist will not, perhaps, forbear to quote +the axiom of the pugilist in the Iliad concerning the fate of him who +would be skillful in all arts. No man is less a Greek in temperament, +but no man cherishes deeper admiration for the Greek genius, and nowhere +else is a more vivid picture of the life and politics of the heroic age +held up to the unlearned. While the critic may question technical +accuracy, or plausible structures built on insufficient data, the laity +will remember how earnestly Mr. Gladstone insists that Homer is his own +best interpreter, and that the student of the Iliad must go to the Greek +text and not elsewhere for accurate knowledge. + +But Greek literature is only one of Mr. Gladstone's two passions, and +not the paramount one. That he would have been a great theologian had he +been other than Mr. Gladstone, is generally admitted. And it is +interesting to note that while he glories in the combats of the heroes +of Hellas, his enthusiasm is as quickly kindled by the humilities of +the early Church. He recognizes the prophetic quality of Homer, but he +bows before the sublimer genius of an Isaiah, and sees in the lives and +writings of the early Fathers the perfect bloom of human genius and +character. + + + +MACAULAY + +From 'Gleanings of Past Years' + + +Lord Macaulay lived a life of no more than fifty-nine years and three +months. But it was an extraordinarily full life, of sustained exertion; +a high table-land, without depressions. If in its outer aspect there +be anything wearisome, it is only the wearisomeness of reiterated +splendors, and of success so uniform as to be almost monotonous. He +speaks of himself as idle; but his idleness was more active, and carried +with it hour by hour a greater expenditure of brain power, than what +most men regard as their serious employments. He might well have been, +in his mental career, the spoiled child of fortune; for all he tried +succeeded, all he touched turned into gems and gold. In a happy +childhood he evinced extreme precocity. His academical career gave +sufficient, though not redundant, promise of after celebrity. The new +Golden Age he imparted to the Edinburgh Review, and his first and most +important, if not best, Parliamentary speeches in the grand crisis of +the first Reform Bill, achieved for him, years before he had reached the +middle point of life, what may justly be termed an immense distinction. + +For a century and more, perhaps no man in this country, with the +exceptions of Mr. Pitt and of Lord Byron, had attained at thirty-two the +fame of Macaulay. His Parliamentary success and his literary eminence +were each of them enough, as they stood at this date, to intoxicate any +brain and heart of a meaner order. But to these was added, in his case, +an amount and quality of social attentions such as invariably partake of +adulation and idolatry, and as perhaps the high circles of London never +before or since have lavished on a man whose claims lay only in himself, +and not in his descent, his rank, or his possessions.... + +One of the very first things that must strike the observer of this man +is, that he was very unlike to any other man. And yet this unlikeness, +this monopoly of the model in which he was made, did not spring from +violent or eccentric features of originality, for eccentricity he had +none whatever, but from the peculiar mode in which the ingredients were +put together to make up the composition. In one sense, beyond doubt, +such powers as his famous memory, his rare power of illustration, his +command of language, separated him broadly from others: but gifts like +these do not make the man; and we now for the first time know that he +possessed, in a far larger sense, the stamp of a real and strong +individuality. The most splendid and complete assemblage of intellectual +endowments does not of itself suffice to create an interest of the kind +that is, and will be, now felt in Macaulay. It is from ethical gifts +alone that such an interest can spring. + +These existed in him not only in abundance, but in forms distant from +and even contrasted with the fashion of his intellectual faculties, and +in conjunctions which come near to paradox. Behind the mask of splendor +lay a singular simplicity; behind a literary severity which sometimes +approached to vengeance, an extreme tenderness; behind a rigid +repudiation of the sentimental, a sensibility at all times quick, and in +the latest times almost threatening to sap, though never sapping, his +manhood. He who as speaker and writer seemed above all others to +represent the age and the world, had the real centre of his being in the +simplest domestic tastes and joys. He for whom the mysteries of human +life, thought, and destiny appear to have neither charm nor terror, and +whose writings seem audibly to boast in every page of being bounded by +the visible horizon of the practical and work-day sphere, yet in his +virtues and in the combination of them; in his freshness, bounty, +bravery; in his unshrinking devotion both to causes and to persons; and +most of all, perhaps, in the thoroughly inborn and spontaneous character +of all these gifts,--really recalls the age of chivalry and the +lineaments of the ideal. The peculiarity, the _differentia_ (so to +speak) of Macaulay seems to us to lie in this: that while as we frankly +think, there is much to question--nay, much here and there to regret or +even censure--in his writings, the excess, or defect, or whatever it may +be, is never really ethical, but is in all cases due to something in the +structure and habits of his intellect. And again, it is pretty plain +that the faults of that intellect were immediately associated with its +excellences: it was in some sense, to use the language of his own +Milton, "dark with excessive bright."... + +His moderation in luxuries and pleasures is the more notable and +praiseworthy because he was a man who, with extreme healthiness of +faculty, enjoyed keenly what he enjoyed at all. Take in proof the +following hearty notice of a dinner _a quattr' occhi_ to his friend: +"Ellis came to dinner at seven. I gave him a lobster curry, woodcock, +and macaroni. I think that I will note dinners, as honest Pepys did." + +His love of books was intense, and was curiously developed. In a walk he +would devour a play or a volume. Once, indeed, his performance embraced +no less than fourteen Books of the Odyssey. "His way of life," says Mr. +Trevelyan, "would have been deemed solitary by others; but it was not +solitary to him." This development blossomed into a peculiar specialism. +Henderson's 'Iceland' was "a favorite breakfast-book" with him. "Some +books which I would never dream of opening at dinner please me at +breakfast, and _vice versa_!" There is more subtlety in this distinction +than could easily be found in any passage of his writings. But how +quietly both meals are handed over to the dominion of the master +propensity! This devotion, however, was not without its drawbacks. +Thought, apart from books and from composition, perhaps he disliked; +certainly he eschewed. Crossing that evil-minded sea the Irish Channel +at night in rough weather, he is disabled from reading; he wraps himself +in a pea-jacket and sits upon the deck. What is his employment? He +cannot sleep, or does not. What an opportunity for moving onward in the +processes of thought, which ought to weigh on the historian! The wild +yet soothing music of the waves would have helped him to watch the +verging this way or that of the judicial scales, or to dive into the +problems of human life and action which history continually is called +upon to sound. No, he cared for none of this. He set about the marvelous +feat of going over 'Paradise Lost' from memory, when he found he could +still repeat half of it. In a word, he was always conversing, or +recollecting, or reading, or composing; but reflecting never. + +The laboriousness of Macaulay as an author demands our gratitude; all +the more because his natural speech was in sentences of set and ordered +structure, well-nigh ready for the press. It is delightful to find that +the most successful prose writer of the day was also the most +painstaking. Here is indeed a literary conscience. The very same +gratification may be expressed with reference to our most successful +poet, Mr. Tennyson. Great is the praise due to the poet; still greater, +from the nature of the case, that share which falls to the lot of +Macaulay. For a poet's diligence is, all along, a honeyed work. He is +ever traveling in flowery meads. Macaulay, on the other hand, +unshrinkingly went through an immense mass of inquiry, which even he +sometimes felt to be irksome, and which to most men would have been +intolerable. He was perpetually picking the grain of corn out of the +bushel of chaff. He freely chose to undergo the dust and heat and strain +of battle, before he would challenge from the public the crown of +victory. And in every way it was remarkable that he should maintain his +lofty standard of conception and performance. Mediocrity is now, as +formerly, dangerous, commonly fatal, to the poet; but among even the +successful writers of prose, those who rise sensibly above it are the +very rarest exceptions. The tests of excellence in prose are as much +less palpable as the public appetite is less fastidious. Moreover, we +are moving downward in this respect. The proportion of middling to good +writing constantly and rapidly increases. With the average of +performance, the standard of judgment progressively declines. The +inexorable conscientiousness of Macaulay, his determination to put out +nothing from his hand which his hand was still capable of improving, was +a perfect godsend to the best hopes of our slipshod generation. + +It was naturally consequent upon this habit of treating composition in +the spirit of art, that he should extend to the body of his books much +of the regard and care which he so profusely bestowed upon their soul. +We have accordingly had in him, at the time when the need was greatest, +a most vigilant guardian of the language. We seem to detect rare and +slight evidences of carelessness in his Journal: of which we can only +say that in a production of the moment, written for himself alone, we +are surprised that they are not more numerous and considerable. In +general society, carelessness of usage is almost universal, and it is +exceedingly difficult for an individual, however vigilant, to avoid +catching some of the trashy or faulty usages which are continually in +his ear. But in his published works his grammar, his orthography, nay, +his punctuation (too often surrendered to the printer), are faultless. +On these questions, and on the lawfulness or unlawfulness of a word, he +may even be called an authority without appeal; and we cannot doubt that +we owe it to his works, and to their boundless circulation, that we have +not in this age witnessed a more rapid corruption and degeneration of +the language. + +To the literary success of Macaulay it would be difficult to find a +parallel in the history of recent authorship. For this and probably for +all future centuries, we are to regard the public as the patron of +literary men; and as a patron abler than any that went before to heap +both fame and fortune on its favorites. Setting aside works of which the +primary purpose was entertainment, Tennyson alone among the writers of +our age, in point of public favor and of emolument following upon it, +comes near to Macaulay. But Tennyson was laboriously cultivating his +gifts for many years before he acquired a position in the eye of the +nation. Macaulay, fresh from college in 1825, astonished the world by +his brilliant and most imposing essay on Milton. Full-orbed, he was seen +above the horizon; and full-orbed after thirty-five years of constantly +emitted splendor, he sank beneath it. + +His gains from literature were extraordinary. The check for L20,000 is +known to all. But his accumulation was reduced by his bounty; and his +profits would, it is evident, have been far larger still had he dealt +with the products of his mind on the principles of economic science +(which however he heartily professed), and sold his wares in the dearest +market, as he undoubtedly acquired them in the cheapest. No one can +measure the elevation of Macaulay's character above the mercenary level, +without bearing in mind that for ten years after 1825 he was a poor and +a contented man, though ministering to the wants of a father and a +family reduced in circumstances; though in the blaze of literary and +political success; and though he must have been conscious from the first +of the possession of a gift which by a less congenial and more +compulsory use would have rapidly led him to opulence. Yet of the +comforts and advantages, both social and physical, from which he thus +forbore, it is so plain that he at all times formed no misanthropic or +ascetic, but on the contrary a very liberal and genial estimate. It is +truly touching to find that never, except as a minister, until 1851, +when he had already lived fifty years of his fifty-nine, did this +favorite of fortune, this idol of society, allow himself the luxury of a +carriage. + +It has been observed that neither in art nor letters did Macaulay +display that faculty of the higher criticism which depends upon certain +refined perceptions and the power of subtle analysis. His analysis was +always rough, hasty, and sweeping, and his perceptions robust. By these +properties it was that he was so eminently [Greek: phortikos], not in +the vulgar sense of an appeal to spurious sentiment, but as one bearing +his reader along by violence, as the River Scamander tried to bear +Achilles. Yet he was never pretentious; and he said frankly of himself +that a criticism like that of Lessing in his 'Laocoon,' or of Goethe on +'Hamlet,' filled him with wonder and despair. His intense devotion to +the great work of Dante is not perhaps in keeping with the general tenor +of his tastes and attachments, but is in itself a circumstance of much +interest. + +We remember however at least one observation of Macaulay's in regard to +art, which is worth preserving. He observed that the mixture of gold +with ivory in great works of ancient art--for example, in the Jupiter of +Phidias--was probably a condescension to the tastes of the people who +were to be the worshipers of the statue; and he noticed that in +Christian times it has most rarely happened that productions great in +art have also been the objects of warm popular veneration.... + +It has been felt and pointed out in many quarters that Macaulay as a +writer was the child, and became the type, of his country and his age. +As fifty years ago the inscription "Bath" used to be carried on our +letter-paper, so the word "English" is, as it were, in the water-mark of +every leaf of Macaulay's writing. His country was not the Empire, nor +was it the United Kingdom. It was not even Great Britain. Though he was +descended in the higher, that is the paternal, half from Scottish +ancestry, and was linked specially with that country through the signal +virtues, the victorious labors, and the considerable reputation of his +father Zachary,--his country was England. On this little spot he +concentrated a force of admiration and of worship which might have +covered all the world. But as in space, so in time, it was limited. It +was the England of his own age. + +The higher energies of his life were as completely summed up in the +present as those of Walter Scott were projected upon the past. He would +not have filled an Abbotsford with armor and relics of the Middle Ages. +He judges the men and institutions and events of other times by the +instruments and measures of the present. The characters whom he admires +are those who would have conformed to the type that was before his eyes: +who would have moved with effect in the court, the camp, the senate, +the drawing-room of to-day. He contemplates the past with no +_desiderium_, no regretful longing, no sense of things admirable which +are also lost and irrecoverable. Upon this limitation of his retrospects +it follows in natural sequence that of the future he has no glowing +anticipations, and even the present he is not apt to contemplate on its +mysterious and ideal side. As in respect to his personal capacity of +loving, so in regard to the corresponding literary power. The faculty +was singularly intense, and yet it was spent within a narrow circle. +There is a marked sign of this narrowness, in his disinclination even to +look at the works of contemporaries whose tone or manner he disliked. + +It appears that this dislike, and the ignorance consequent upon it, +applied to the works of Carlyle. Now, we may have much or little faith +in Carlyle as a philosopher or as a historian. Half-lights and +half-truths may be the utmost which, in these departments, his works +will be found to yield. But the total want of sympathy is the more +noteworthy, because the resemblances, though partial, are both numerous +and substantial between these two remarkable men and powerful writers, +as well in their strength as in their weakness. Both are honest; and +both, notwithstanding honesty, are partisans. Each is vastly, though +diversely, powerful in expression; and each is more powerful in +expression than in thought. Both are, though variously, poets using the +vehicle of prose. Both have the power of portraitures, extraordinary for +vividness and strength. For comprehensive disquisition, for balanced and +impartial judgments, the world will probably resort to neither; and if +Carlyle gains on the comparison in his strong sense of the inward and +the ideal, he loses in the absolute and violent character of his +one-sidedness. Without doubt, Carlyle's licentious though striking +peculiarities of style have been of a nature allowably to repel, so far +as they go, one who was so rigid as Macaulay in his literary orthodoxy, +and who so highly appreciated, and with such expenditure of labor, all +that relates to the exterior or body of a book. Still, if there be +resemblances so strong, the want of appreciation, which has possibly +been reciprocal, seems to be partly of that nature which Aristotle would +have explained by his favorite proverb, [Greek: keramens keramei].[D] +The discrepancy is like the discrepancy of colors that are too near. +Carlyle is at least a great fact in the literature of his time, and has +contributed largely,--in some respects too largely,--toward forming its +characteristic habits of thought. But on these very grounds he should +not have been excluded from the horizon of a mind like Macaulay's, with +all its large and varied and most active interests.... + + [D] Potter [detests] potter. + +There have been other men of our own generation, though very few, who if +they have not equaled have approached Macaulay in power of memory, and +who have certainly exceeded him in the unfailing accuracy of their +recollections; and yet not in accuracy as to dates or names or +quotations, or other matters of hard fact, when the question was one +simply between ay and no. In these he may have been without a rival. In +a list of kings, or popes, or senior wranglers, or prime ministers, or +battles, or palaces, or as to the houses in Pall Mall or about Leicester +Square, he might be followed with implicit confidence. But a large and +important class of human recollections are not of this order: +recollections for example of characters, of feelings, of opinions; of +the intrinsic nature, details, and bearings of occurrences. And here it +was that Macaulay's wealth "was unto him an occasion of falling." And +that in two ways. First, the possessor of such a vehicle as his memory +could not but have something of an overweening confidence in what it +told him; and quite apart from any tendency to be vain or overbearing, +he could hardly enjoy the benefits of that caution which arises from +self-interest, and the sad experience of frequent falls. But what is +more, the possessor of so powerful a fancy could not but illuminate with +the colors it supplied, the matters which he gathered into his great +magazine, wherever the definiteness of their outline was not so rigid as +to defy or disarm the action of the intruding and falsifying faculty. +Imagination could not alter the date of the battle of Marathon, of the +Council of Nice, or the crowning of Pepin; but it might seriously or +even fundamentally disturb the balance of light and dark in his account +of the opinions of Milton or of Laud, or his estimate of the effects of +the Protectorate or the Restoration, or of the character and even the +adulteries of William III. He could detect justly this want of dry light +in others; he probably suspected it in himself; but it was hardly +possible for him to be enough upon his guard against the distracting +action of a faculty at once so vigorous, so crafty, and so pleasurable +in its intense activity. + +Hence arose, it seems reasonable to believe, that charge of partisanship +against Macaulay as a historian, on which much has been and probably +much more will be said. He may not have possessed that scrupulously +tender sense of obligation, that nice tact of exact justice, which is +among the very rarest as well as the most precious of human virtues. But +there never was a writer less capable of intentional unfairness. This +during his lifetime was the belief of his friends, but was hardly +admitted by opponents. His biographer has really lifted the question out +of the range of controversy. He wrote for truth, but of course for truth +such as he saw it; and his sight was colored from within. This color, +once attached, was what in manufacture is called a mordant; it was a +fast color: he could not distinguish between what his mind had received +and what his mind had imparted. Hence, when he was wrong, he could not +see that he was wrong; and of those calamities which are due to the +intellect only, and not the heart, there can hardly be a greater.... + +However true it may be that Macaulay was a far more consummate workman +in the manner than in the matter of his works, we do not doubt that the +works contain, in multitudes, passages of high emotion and ennobling +sentiment, just awards of praise and blame, and solid expositions of +principle, social, moral, and constitutional. They are pervaded by a +generous love of liberty; and their atmosphere is pure and bracing, +their general aim and basis morally sound. Of the qualifications of this +eulogy we have spoken, and have yet to speak. But we can speak of the +style of the works with little qualification. We do not indeed venture +to assert that his style ought to be imitated. Yet this is not because +it was vicious, but because it was individual and incommunicable. It was +one of those gifts of which, when it had been conferred, Nature broke +the mold. That it is the head of all literary styles we do not allege; +but it is different from them all, and perhaps more different from them +all than they are usually different from one another. We speak only of +natural styles, of styles where the manner waits upon the matter, and +not where an artificial structure has been reared either to hide or to +make up for poverty of substance. + +It is paramount in the union of ease in movement with perspicuity of +matter, of both with real splendor, and of all with immense rapidity and +striking force. From any other pen, such masses of ornament would be +tawdry; with him they are only rich. As a model of art concealing art, +the finest cabinet pictures of Holland are almost his only rivals. Like +Pascal, he makes the heaviest subject light; like Burke, he embellishes +the barrenest. When he walks over arid plains, the springs of milk and +honey, as in a march of Bacchus, seem to rise beneath his tread. The +repast he serves is always sumptuous, but it seems to create an appetite +proportioned to its abundance; for who has ever heard of the reader that +was cloyed with Macaulay? In none, perhaps, of our prose writers are +lessons such as he gives of truth and beauty, of virtue and of freedom, +so vividly associated with delight. Could some magician but do for the +career of life what he has done for the arm-chair and the study, what a +change would pass on the face (at least) of the world we live in, what +an accession of recruits would there be to the professing followers of +virtue!... + +The truth is that Macaulay was not only accustomed, like many more of +us, to go out hobby-riding, but from the portentous vigor of the animal +he mounted was liable more than most of us to be run away with. His +merit is that he could keep his seat in the wildest steeple-chase; but +as the object in view is arbitrarily chosen, so it is reached by cutting +up the fields, spoiling the crops, and spoiling or breaking down the +fences needful to secure for labor its profit, and to man at large the +full enjoyment of the fruits of the earth. Such is the overpowering glow +of color, such the fascination of the grouping in the first sketches +which he draws, that when he has grown hot upon his work he seems to +lose all sense of the restraints of fact and the laws of moderation; he +vents the strangest paradoxes, sets up the most violent caricatures, and +handles the false weight and measure as effectively as if he did it +knowingly. A man so able and so upright is never indeed wholly wrong. He +never for a moment consciously pursues anything but truth. But truth +depends, above all, on proportion and relation. The preterhuman +vividness with which Macaulay sees his object, absolutely casts a shadow +upon what lies around; he loses his perspective; and imagination, +impelled headlong by the strong consciousness of honesty in purpose, +achieves the work of fraud. All things for him stand in violent contrast +to one another. For the shadows, the gradations, the middle and +transition touches, which make up the bulk of human life, character, +and action, he has neither eye nor taste. They are not taken account of +in his practice, and they at length die away from the ranges of his +vision. + +In Macaulay all history is scenic; and philosophy he scarcely seems to +touch, except on the outer side, where it opens into action. Not only +does he habitually present facts in forms of beauty, but the fashioning +of the form predominates over, and is injurious to, the absolute and +balanced presentation of the subject. Macaulay was a master in +execution, rather than in what painting or music terms expression. He +did not fetch from the depths, nor soar to the heights; but his power +upon the surface was rare and marvelous, and it is upon the surface that +an ordinary life is passed and that its imagery is found. He mingled, +then, like Homer, the functions of the poet and the chronicler: but what +Homer did was due to his time; what Macaulay did, to his temperament. + +The 'History' of Macaulay, whatever else it may be, is the work not of a +journeyman but of a great artist, and a great artist who lavishly +bestowed upon it all his powers. Such a work, once committed to the +press, can hardly die. It is not because it has been translated into a +crowd of languages, nor because it has been sold in hundreds of +thousands, that we believe it will live; but because, however open it +may be to criticism, it has in it the character of a true and very high +work of art.... + +Whether he will subsist as a standard and supreme authority is another +question. Wherever and whenever read, he will be read with fascination, +with delight, with wonder. And with copious instruction too; but also +with copious reserve, with questioning scrutiny, with liberty to reject +and with much exercise of that liberty. The contemporary mind may in +rare cases be taken by storm; but posterity, never. The tribunal of the +present is accessible to influence; that of the future is incorrupt. The +coming generations will not give Macaulay up; but they will probably +attach much less value than we have done to his _ipse dixit_. They will +hardly accept from him his net solutions of literary, and still less of +historic problems. Yet they will obtain, from his marked and telling +points of view, great aid in solving them. We sometimes fancy that ere +long there will be editions of his works in which his readers may be +saved from pitfalls by brief, respectful, and judicious commentary; and +that his great achievements may be at once commemorated and corrected by +men of slower pace, of drier light, and of more tranquil, broad-set, +and comprehensive judgment. For his works are in many respects among the +prodigies of literature; in some, they have never been surpassed. As +lights that have shone through the whole universe of letters, they have +made their title to a place in the solid firmament of fame. But the tree +is greater and better than its fruit; and greater and better yet than +the works themselves are the lofty aims and conceptions, the large +heart, the independent, manful mind, the pure and noble career, which in +this Biography have disclosed to us the true figure of the man who wrote +them. + + + + +EDWIN LAWRENCE GODKIN + +(1831-) + +[Illustration: EDWIN L. GODKIN] + + +Among the men in the United States who through the agency of the press +have molded intelligent public opinion, Edwin Lawrence Godkin deserves +an honorable place. In the columns of the New York Nation and the New +York Evening Post, he has for a generation given editorial utterance to +his views upon economic, civic, political, and international questions, +this work being supplemented by occasional incisive and scholarly +articles in the best periodicals. His clientele has been drawn mainly +from that powerful minority which is made up of the educated, thoughtful +men and women of the country. To this high function Mr. Godkin has +contributed exceptional gifts and qualifications; and that in its +exercise he has been a force for good, is beyond dispute. + +Born in Moyne, Ireland, in 1831, he was educated at Queen's College, +Belfast. Then came the more practical education derived from a +familiarity with men and things, for in early manhood he began newspaper +work as war correspondent, in Turkey and the Crimea, of the London Daily +News. As correspondent of this paper he came to the United States and +settled here, being admitted to the New York bar in 1858. But journalism +was to be his life work; and in 1865 he became the editor of The Nation, +a weekly,--succeeding the Round Table, but at once taking a much more +important place as a journal of political and literary discussion,--and +the next year its proprietor. In 1881 he also became one of the owners +and the controlling editor of the New York Evening Post, a daily, and +his contributions since then have appeared in both papers, which bear to +each other the relation of a daily and weekly edition. Thus he has been +in active journalistic service for more than thirty years. + +From this slight biographical outline it may be seen that Mr. Godkin +brought to the pursuit of his profession and to the study of American +institutions some valuable qualifications. A college-bred man of wide +experience, an adoptive American able to judge by the comparative +method, a careful student of the philosophy of government, from +Aristotle to Sir Henry Maine, his views combine in an unusual degree the +practical and the theoretical. No doubt he has in his writings what to +some will seem the defect of his quality. There is in him a certain +haughtiness of temper, and what seems like impatient contempt for the +opponent in argument, which, conjoined with a notable power of invective +and satire in dealing with what he deems to be fallacious, are likely to +arouse opposition. Hence the feeling in some quarters that Mr. Godkin is +not at heart an American, but a captious critic, with sympathies ill +suited to a democratic government. + +This opinion is not justified by a fair examination of his writings. He +has on the contrary and in the true sense proved himself a true +American. He has spoken wise words upon many of the social and political +problems of our day. He has defended democracy from the charge of +failure, pointing out that here in the United States social defects, +wrongly ascribed by foreign critics to the form of government, have been +incidental to the settling of a vast new country. He has stated with +clearness and cogency the inadvisability of allowing the government +paternal power in finance and tariff legislation. He has preached the +difference between cheap jingoism or political partisanship, and the +enlightened Americanism which puts its finger upon weak points, +criticizing in order to correct and purify. Mr. Godkin, in this, has +been a consistent worker in a cause of which Lowell was a noble prophet. +And in regard of literary excellence, his editorial writing is often a +model of lucid, sinewy English style; while his more deliberated essays +have been admirable for calm dignity, polish, and organic exposition, +with an air of good breeding over it all. The influence of such a man, +both as writer and thinker, especially in a land like the United States, +has been most salutary. + + + +THE DUTY OF CRITICISM IN A DEMOCRACY + +From 'Problems of Modern Democracy.' Copyright 1896, by Charles +Scribner's Sons, New York + + +No intelligent man can or ought to ignore the part which hope of better +things plays in our present social system. It has largely, among the +working classes, taken the place of religious belief. They have brought +their heaven down to earth, and are literally looking forward to a sort +of New Jerusalem, in which all comforts and many of the luxuries of life +will be within easy reach of all. The great success of Utopian works +like Bellamy's shows the hold which these ideas have taken of the +popular mind. The world has to have a religion of some kind, and the +hope of better food and clothing, more leisure, and a greater variety of +amusements, has become the religion of the working classes. Hope makes +them peaceful, industrious, and resigned under present suffering. A +Frenchman saw a ragged pauper spend his last few cents on a lottery +ticket, and asked him how he could commit such a folly. "In order to +have something to hope for," he said. And from this point of view the +outlay was undoubtedly excusable. It is literally hope which makes the +world go round, and one of the hardest things an educated man who opens +his mouth about public affairs has to do, is to say one word or anything +to dampen or destroy it. Yet his highest duty is to speak the truth. + +Luckily, there is one truth which can always be spoken without offense, +and that is that on the whole the race advances through the increase of +intelligence and the improvement of character, and has not advanced in +any other way. The great amelioration in the condition of the working +classes in Europe within this century, including the increasing power of +the trades-unions, is the result not of any increase of benevolence in +the upper classes, but of the growth of knowledge and self-reliance and +foresight among the working classes themselves. The changes in +legislation which have improved their condition are changes which they +have demanded. When a workingman becomes a capitalist, and raises +himself in any way above his early condition, it is rarely the result of +miracle or accident. It is due to his superior intelligence and thrift. +Nothing, on the whole, can be more delusive than official and other +inquiries into the labor problem through commissions and legislative +committees. They all assume that there is some secret in the relations +of labor and capital which can be found out by taking testimony. But +they never find anything out. Their reports during the last fifty years +would make a small library, but they never tell us anything new. They +are meant to pacify and amuse the laborer, and they do so; but to their +constant failure to do anything more we owe some of the Socialist +movement. The Socialists believe this failure due to want of will, and +that Karl Marx has discovered the great truth of the situation, which +is, that labor is entitled to the whole product. The great law which +Nature seems to have prescribed for the government of the world, and the +only law of human society which we are able to extract from history, is +that the more intelligent and thoughtful of the race shall inherit the +earth and have the best time, and that all others shall find life on the +whole dull and unprofitable. Socialism is an attempt to contravene this +law and insure a good time to everybody, independently of character and +talents; but Nature will see that she is not frustrated or brought to +naught, and I do not think educated men should ever cease to call +attention to this fact; that is, ever cease to preach hopefulness, not +to everybody, but to good people. This is no bar to benevolence to bad +people or any people; but our first duty is loyalty to the great +qualities of our kind, to the great human virtues which raise the +civilized man above the savage. + +There is probably no government in the world to-day as stable as that of +the United States. The chief advantage of democratic government is, in a +country like this, the enormous force it can command on an emergency. By +"emergency" I mean the suppression of an insurrection or the conduct of +a foreign war. But it is not equally strong in the ordinary work of +administration. A good many governments, by far inferior to it in +strength, fill the offices, collect the taxes, administer justice, and +do the work of legislation with much greater efficiency. One cause of +this inefficiency is that the popular standard in such matters is low, +and that it resents dissatisfaction as an assumption of superiority. +When a man says these and those things ought not to be, his neighbors, +who find no fault with them, naturally accuse him of giving himself +airs. It seems as if he thought he knew more than they did, and was +trying to impose his plans on them. The consequence is that in a land of +pure equality, as this is, critics are always an unpopular class, and +criticism is in some sense an odious work. The only condemnation passed +on the governmental acts or systems is apt to come from the opposite +party in the form of what is called "arraignment," which generally +consists in wholesale abuse of the party in power, treating all their +acts, small or great, as due to folly or depravity, and all their public +men as either fools or knaves. Of course this makes but small impression +on the public mind. It is taken to indicate not so much a desire to +improve the public service as to get hold of the offices, and has as a +general rule but little effect. Parties lose their hold on power through +some conspicuously obnoxious acts or failures; never, or very rarely, +through the judgments passed on them by hostile writers or orators. And +yet nothing is more necessary to successful government than abundant +criticism from sources not open to the suspicion of particular interest. +There is nothing which bad governments so much dislike and resent as +criticism, and have in past ages taken so much pains to put down. In +fact, a history of the civil liberty would consist largely of an account +of the resistance to criticism on the part of rulers. One of the first +acts of a successful tyranny or despotism is always the silencing of the +press or the establishment of a censorship. + +Popular objection to criticism is however senseless, because it is +through criticism--that is, through discrimination between two things, +customs, or courses--that the race has managed to come out of the woods +and lead a civilized life. The first man who objected to the general +nakedness, and advised his fellows to put on clothes, was the first +critic. Criticism of a high tariff recommends a low tariff; criticism of +monarchy recommends a republic; criticism of vice recommends virtue. In +fact, almost every act of life, in the practice of a profession or the +conduct of a business, condemns one course and suggests another. The +word means _judging_, and judgment is the highest of the human +faculties, the one which most distinguishes us from the animals. + +There is probably nothing from which the public service of the country +suffers more to-day than the silence of its educated class; that is, the +small amount of criticism which comes from the disinterested and +competent sources. It is a very rare thing for an educated man to say +anything publicly about the questions of the day. He is absorbed in +science, or art, or literature, in the practice of his profession, or in +the conduct of his business; and if he has any interest at all in public +affairs, it is a languid one. He is silent because he does not much +care, or because he does not wish to embarrass the administration or +"hurt the party," or because he does not feel that anything he could say +would make much difference. So that on the whole, it is very rarely that +the instructed opinion of the country is ever heard on any subject. The +report of the Bar Association on the nomination of Maynard in New York +was a remarkable exception to this rule. Some improvement in this +direction has been made by the appearance of the set of people known as +the "Mugwumps," who are, in the main, men of cultivation. They have been +defined in various ways. They are known to the masses mainly as +"kickers"; that is, dissatisfied, querulous people, who complain of +everybody and cannot submit to party discipline. But they are the only +critics who do not criticize in the interest of party, but simply in +that of good government. They are a kind of personage whom the bulk of +the voters know nothing about and find it difficult to understand, and +consequently load with ridicule and abuse. But their movement, though +its visible recognizable effects on elections may be small, has done +inestimable service in slackening the bonds of party discipline, in +making the expression of open dissent from party programmes respectable +and common, and in increasing the unreliable vote in large States like +New York. It is of the last importance that this unreliable vote--that +is, the vote which party leaders cannot count on with certainty--should +be large in such States. The mere fear of it prevents a great many +excesses. + +But in criticism one always has hard work in steering a straight course +between optimism and pessimism. These are the Scylla and Charybdis of +the critic's career. Almost every man who thinks or speaks about public +affairs is either an optimist or a pessimist; which he is, depends a +good deal on temperament, but often on character. The political jobber +or corruptionist is almost always an optimist. So is the prosperous +business man. So is nearly every politician, because the optimist is +nearly always the more popular of the two. As a general rule, people +like cheerful men and the promise of good times. The kill-joy and bearer +of bad news has always been an odious character. But for the cultivated +man there is no virtue in either optimism or pessimism. Some people +think it a duty to be optimistic, and for some people it may be a duty; +but one of the great uses of education is to teach us to be neither one +nor the other. In the management of our personal affairs, we try to be +neither one nor the other. In business, a persistent and uproarious +optimist would certainly have poor credit. And why? Because in business +the trustworthy man, as everybody knows, is the man who sees things as +they are: and to see things as they are, without glamor or illusion, is +the first condition of worldly success. It is absolutely essential in +war, in finance, in law, in every field of human activity in which the +future has to be thought of and provided for. It is just as essential in +politics. The only reason why it is not thought as essential in politics +is, the punishment for failure or neglect comes in politics more +slowly. + +The pessimist has generally a bad name, but there is a good deal to be +said for him. To take a recent illustration, the man who took +pessimistic views of the silver movement was for nearly twenty years +under a cloud. This gloomy anticipation of 1873 was not realized until +1893. For a thousand years after Marcus Aurelius, the pessimist, if I +may use the expression, was "cock of the walk." He certainly has no +reason to be ashamed of his role in the Eastern world for a thousand +years after the Mohammedan Hegira. In Italy and Spain he has not needed +to hang his head since the Renaissance. In fact, if we take various +nations and long reaches of time, we shall find that the gloomy man has +been nearly as often justified by the course of events as the cheerful +one. Neither of them has any special claim to a hearing on public +affairs. A persistent optimist, although he may be a most agreeable man +in family life, is likely, in business or politics, to be just as +foolish and unbearable as a persistent pessimist. He is as much out of +harmony with the order of nature. The universe is not governed on +optimistic any more than on pessimistic principles. The best and wisest +of men make their mistakes and have their share of sorrow and sickness +and losses. So also the most happily situated nations must suffer from +internal discord, the blunders of statesmen, and the madness of the +people. What Cato said in the Senate of the conditions of success, +"vigilando, agendo, bene consulendo, prospere omnia cedunt," is as true +to-day as it was two thousand years ago. We must remember that though +the optimist may be the pleasantest man to have about us, he is the +least likely to take precautions; that is, the least likely to watch and +work for success. We owe a great deal of our slovenly legislation to his +presence in large numbers in Congress and the legislatures. The great +suffering through which we are now passing, in consequence of the +persistence in our silver purchases, is the direct result of unreasoning +optimism. Its promoters disregarded the warnings of economists and +financiers because they believed that somehow, they did not know how, +the thing would come out right in the end. The silver collapse, together +with the Civil War over slavery, are striking illustrations to occur in +one century, of the fact that if things come out right in the end, it is +often after periods of great suffering and disaster. Could people have +foreseen how the slavery controversy would end, what frantic efforts +would have been made for peaceful abolition! Could people have foreseen +the panic of last year, with its wide-spread disaster, what haste would +have been made to stop the silver purchases! And yet the experience of +mankind afforded abundant reason for anticipating both results. + +This leads me to say that the reason why educated men should try and +keep a fair mental balance between both pessimism and optimism, is that +there has come over the world in the last twenty-five or thirty years a +very great change of opinion touching the relations of the government to +the community. When Europe settled down to peaceful work after the great +wars of the French Revolution, it was possessed with the idea that the +freedom of the individual was all that was needed for public prosperity +and private happiness. The old government interference with people's +movements and doings was supposed to be the reason why nations had not +been happy in the past. This became the creed, in this country, of the +Democratic party, which came into existence after the foundation of the +federal government. At the same time there grew up here the popular idea +of the American character, in which individualism was the most marked +trait. If you are not familiar with it in your own time, you may +remember it in the literature of the earlier half of the century. The +typical American was always the architect of his own fortunes. He sailed +the seas and penetrated the forest, and built cities and lynched the +horse thieves, and fought the Indians and dug the mines, without +anybody's help or support. He had even an ill-concealed contempt for +regular troops, as men under control and discipline. He scorned +government for any other purposes than security and the administration +of justice. This was the kind of American that Tocqueville found here in +1833. He says:-- + + "The European often sees in the public functionaries simply + force; the American sees nothing but law. One may then say + that in America a man never obeys a man, or anything but + justice and law. Consequently he has formed of himself an + opinion which is often exaggerated, but is always salutary. + He trusts without fear to his own strength, which appears to + him equal to anything. A private individual conceives some + sort of enterprise. Even if this enterprise have some sort of + connection with the public welfare, it never occurs to him to + address himself to the government in order to obtain its aid. + He makes his plan known, offers to carry it out, calls other + individuals to his aid, and struggles with all his might + against any obstacles there may be in his way. Often, + without doubt, he succeeds less well than the State would in + his place; but in the long run the general result of + individual enterprises far surpasses anything the government + could do." + +Now there is no doubt that if this type of character has not passed +away, it has been greatly modified; and it has been modified by two +agencies--the "labor problem," as it is called, and legislative +protection to native industry. I am not going to make an argument about +the value of this protection in promoting native industry, or about its +value from the industrial point of view. We may or we may not owe to it +the individual progress and prosperity of the United States. About that +I do not propose to say anything. What I want to say is that the +doctrine that it is a function of government, not simply to foster +industry in general, but to consider the case of every particular +industry and give it the protection that it needs, could not be preached +and practiced for thirty years in a community like this, without +modifying the old American conception of the relation of the government +to the individual. It makes the government, in a certain sense, a +partner in every industrial enterprise, and makes every Presidential +election an affair of the pocket to every miner and manufacturer and to +his men; for the men have for fully thirty years been told that the +amount of their wages would depend, to a certain extent at least, on the +way the election went. The notion that the government owes assistance to +individuals in carrying on business and making a livelihood has in fact, +largely through the tariff discussions, permeated a very large class of +the community, and has materially changed what I may call the American +outlook. It has greatly reinforced among the foreign-born population the +socialistic ideas which many bring here with them, of the powers and +duties of the State toward labor; for it is preached vehemently by the +employing class. + +What makes this look the more serious is, that our political and social +manners are not adapted to it. In Europe, the State is possessed of an +administrative machine which has a finish, efficacy, and permanence +unknown here. Tocqueville comments on its absence among us; and it is, +as all the advocates of civil-service reform know, very difficult to +supply. All the agencies of the government suffer from the imposition on +them of what I may call non-American duties. For instance, a +custom-house organized as a political machine was never intended to +collect the enormous sum of duties which must pass through its hands +under our tariff. A post-office whose master has to be changed every +four years to "placate" Tammany, or the anti-Snappers, or any other body +of politicians, was never intended to handle the huge mass which +American mails have now become. One of the greatest objections to the +income tax is the prying into people's affairs which it involves. No man +likes to tell what his income is to every stranger, much less to a +politician, which our collectors are sure to be. Secrecy on the part of +the collector is in fact essential to reconcile people to it in England +or Germany, where it is firmly established; but our collectors sell +their lists to the newspapers in order to make the contributors pay up. + +In all these things, we are trying to meet the burdens and +responsibilities of much older societies with the machinery of a much +earlier and simpler state of things. It is high time to halt in this +progress until our administrative system has been brought up to the +level even of our present requirements. It is quite true that, with our +system of State and federal constitutions laying prohibitions on the +Legislature and Congress, any great extension of the sphere of +government in our time seems very unlikely. Yet the assumption by +Congress, with the support of the Supreme Court, of the power to issue +paper money in time of peace, the power to make prolonged purchases of a +commodity like silver, the power to impose an income tax, to execute +great public works, and to protect native industry, are powers large +enough to effect a great change in the constitution of society and in +the distribution of wealth, such as, it is safe to say, in the present +state of human culture, no government ought to have and exercise. + +One hears every day from educated people some addition to the number of +things which "governments" ought to do, but for which any government we +have at present is totally unfit. One listens to them with amazement, +when looking at the material of which our government is composed,--for +the matter of that, of which all governments are composed; for I suppose +there is no question that all legislative bodies in the world have in +twenty years run down in quality. The parliamentary system is apparently +failing to meet the demands of modern democratic society, and is falling +into some disrepute; but it would seem as if there was at present just +as little chance of a substitute of any kind as of the dethronement of +universal suffrage. It will probably last indefinitely, and be as good +or as bad as its constituents make it. But this probable extension of +the powers and functions of government makes more necessary than ever a +free expression of opinion, and especially of educated opinion. We may +rail at "mere talk" as much as we please, but the probability is that +the affairs of nations and of men will be more and more regulated by +talk. The amount of talk which is now expended on all subjects of human +interest--and in "talk" I include contributions to periodical +literature--is something of which no previous age has had the smallest +conception. Of course it varies infinitely in quality. A very large +proportion of it does no good beyond relieving the feelings of the +talker. Political philosophers maintain, and with good reason, that one +of its greatest uses is keeping down discontent under popular +government. It is undoubtedly true that it is an immense relief to a man +with a grievance to express his feelings about it in words, even if he +knows that his words will have no immediate effect. Self-love is apt to +prevent most men from thinking that anything they say with passion or +earnestness will utterly and finally fail. But still it is safe to +suppose that one half of the talk of the world on subjects of general +interest is waste. But the other half certainly tells. We know this from +the change in ideas from generation to generation. We see that opinions +which at one time everybody held became absurd in the course of half a +century--opinions about religion and morals and manners and government. +Nearly every man of my age can recall old opinions of his own on +subjects of general interest, which he once thought highly respectable, +and which he is now almost ashamed of having ever held. He does not +remember when he changed them, or why, but somehow they have passed away +from him. + +In communities these changes are often very striking. The +transformation, for instance, of the England of Cromwell into the +England of Queen Anne, or of the New England of Cotton Mather into the +New England of Theodore Parker and Emerson, was very extraordinary, but +it would be very difficult to say in detail what brought it about or +when it began. Lecky has some curious observations in his "History of +Rationalism" on these silent changes in new beliefs, apropos of the +disappearance of the belief in witchcraft. Nobody could say what had +swept it away; but it appeared that in a certain year people were ready +to burn old women as witches, and a few years later were ready to laugh +at or pity any one who thought old women could be witches. "At one +period," says he, "we find every one disposed to believe in witches; at +a later period we find this predisposition has silently passed away." +The belief in witchcraft may perhaps be considered a somewhat violent +illustration, like the change in public opinion about slavery in this +country. But there can be no doubt that it is talk--somebody's, +anybody's, everybody's talk--by which these changes are wrought, by +which each generation comes to feel and think differently from its +predecessor. + +No one ever talks freely about anything without contributing something, +let it be ever so little, to the unseen forces which carry the race on +to its final destiny. Even if he does not make a positive impression, he +counteracts or modifies some other impression, or sets in motion some +train of ideas in some one else, which helps to change the face of the +world. So I shall, in disregard of the great laudation of silence which +filled the earth in the days of Carlyle, say that one of the functions +of an educated man is to talk; and of course he should try to talk +wisely. + + + + +[Illustration: GOETHE.] + + + + +GOETHE + +(1749-1832) + +BY EDWARD DOWDEN + + +Johann Wolfgang Goethe was born at Frankfort-on-the-Main on August 28th, +1749, and died at Weimar on March 22d, 1832. His great life, extending +over upwards of fourscore years, makes him a man of the eighteenth +century and also of the nineteenth. He belongs not only to German but to +European literature. And in the history of European literature his +position is that of successor to Voltaire and Rousseau. Humanity, as +Voltaire said, had lost its title-deeds, and the task of the eighteenth +century was to recover them. Under all Voltaire's zeal for destruction +in matters of religious belief lay a positive faith and a creative +sentiment,--a faith in human intellect and the sentiment of social +justice. What indefatigable toil! what indefatigable play! Surely it was +not all to establish a negation. Voltaire poured a gay yet bitter _elan_ +into the intellectual movement of his time. Yet amid his various efforts +for humanity he wanted love; he wanted reverence. And although a +positive tendency underlies his achievements, we are warranted in +repeating the common sentence, that upon the whole he destroyed more +than he built up. + +Voltaire fought to enfranchise the understanding. Rousseau dreamed, +brooded, suffered, to emancipate the heart. A wave of passion, or at +least of sentiment, swept over Europe with the 'Nouvelle Heloise,' the +'Emile,' the 'Confessions.' It was Rousseau, exclaims Byron, who "threw +enchantment over passion," who "knew how to make madness beautiful." +Such an emancipation of the heart was felt, in the eighteenth century, +to be a blessed deliverance from the material interests and the eager +yet too arid speculation of the age. But Byron in that same passage of +'Childe Harold' names Rousseau "the self-torturing sophist." And a +sophist Rousseau was. His intellect fed upon fictions, and dangerous +fictions,--fictions respecting nature, respecting the individual man, +respecting human society. Therefore his intellect failed to illuminate, +clarify, tranquilize his heart. His emotions were turbid, restless, and +lacking in sanity. + +Here then were Goethe's two great predecessors: one a most vivacious +intelligence, the other a brooding sensibility; one aiming at an +emancipation of the understanding, but deficient in reverence and in +love; the other aiming at an emancipation of the affections, but +deficient in sanity of thought. In what relation stood Goethe to these +great forces of the eighteenth century? + +In his old age Goethe, speaking of Voltaire, uses the words "a universal +source of light." But as a young man he was repelled by "the factious +dishonesty of Voltaire, and his perversion of so many worthy subjects." +"He would never have done," says Goethe, "with degrading religion and +the sacred books, for the sake of injuring priestcraft, as they called +it." Goethe, indeed, did not deny a use to the spirit of negation. +Mephistopheles lives and works. Yet he lives and works as the unwilling +servant of the Lord, and the service he renders is to provoke men from +indolence to activity. + +Into the influence of Rousseau, on the contrary, and into the general +movement of feeling to which Rousseau belonged, Goethe in his youth was +caught, almost inevitably; and he abandoned himself to it for a time, it +might seem without restraint. + +Yet Goethe differed from Rousseau as profoundly as he differed from +Voltaire. Rousseau's undisciplined sensibility, morbidly excited by the +harshness or imagined harshness of his fellows, by bodily torment, by +broodings in solitude, became at last one quivering mass of disease. "No +tragedy had ever a fifth act so squalid." What a contrast to the closing +scenes of Goethe's life in that house of his, like a modest temple of +the Muses, listening to Plutarch read aloud by his daughter-in-law, or +serenely active, "ohne Hast aber ohne Rast" (without haste, but without +rest), in widening his sympathies with men or enlarging his knowledge of +nature. + +How was this? Why did the ways part so widely for Rousseau and for +Goethe? + +The young creator of 'Werther' may seem to have started on his career as +a German Rousseau. In reality, 'Werther' expressed only a fragment of +Goethe's total self. A reserve force of will and an intellect growing +daily in clearness and in energy would not permit him to end as Rousseau +ended. In 'Goetz von Berlichingen' there goes up a cry for freedom; it +presents the more masculine side of that spirit of revolt from the bonds +of the eighteenth century, that "return to nature," which is presented +in its more feminine aspects by 'Werther.' But by degrees it became +evident to Goethe that the only true ideal of freedom is a liberation +not of the passions, not of the intellect, but of the whole man; that +this involves a conciliation of all the powers and faculties within us; +and that such a conciliation can be effected only by degrees, and by +steadfast toil. + +And so we find him willing during ten years at Weimar to undertake work +which might appear to be fatal to the development of his genius. To +reform army administration, make good roads, work the mines with +energetic intelligence, restore the finances to order,--was this fit +employment for one born to be a poet? Except a few lyrics and the prose +'Iphigenie,' these years produced no literary work of importance; yet +Goethe himself speaks of them as his "zweite Schriftstellerepoche."--his +second epoch as a writer. They were needful to make him a master in the +art of life, needful to put him into possession of all his powers. +Men of genius are quick growers; but men of the highest genius, which +includes the wisdom of human life, are not speedily ripe. Goethe +had entered literature early; he had stormed the avenues. Now at +six-and-twenty he was a chief figure in German, even in European, +literature; and from twenty-six to thirty-seven he published, we may +say nothing. But though he ceased to astonish the world, he was well +employed in widening the basis of his existence; in organizing his +faculties; in conciliating passions, intellect, and will; in applying +his mind to the real world; in endeavoring to comprehend it aright; in +testing and training his powers by practical activity. + +A time came when he felt that his will and skill were mature; that he +was no longer an apprentice in the art of living, but a master +craftsman. Tasks that had grown irksome and were felt to be a +distraction from higher duties, he now abandoned. Goethe fled for a time +to Italy, there to receive his degree in the high school of life, and to +start upon a course of more advanced studies. Thenceforward until his +closing days the record is one of almost uninterrupted labor in his +proper fields of literature, art, and science. "In Rome," he wrote, "I +have for the first time found myself, for the first time come into +harmony with myself, and grown happy and rational." He had found +himself, because his passions and his intellect now co-operated; his +pursuit of truth had all the ardor of a first love; his pursuit of +beauty was not a fantastic chase, but was subject to rational law; and +his effort after truth and his effort after beauty were alike supported +by an adult will. + +His task, regarded as a whole, was to do over again the work of the +Renascence. But whereas the Renascence had been a large national or +European movement, advancing towards its ends partly through popular +passions and a new enthusiasm, the work which Goethe accomplished was +more an affair of intelligence, criticism, conscious self-direction. It +was less of a flood sweeping away old dikes and dams, and more of a dawn +quietly and gradually drawing back the borders of darkness and widening +the skirts of light. A completely developed human being, for the uses of +the world,--this was the ideal in which Goethe's thoughts centred, and +towards which his most important writings constantly tend. A completely +developed State or commonwealth should follow, as an ideal arising out +of the needs and demands of a complete individual. Goethe knew that +growth comes not by self-observation and self-analysis, but by exercise. +Therefore he turned himself and would turn his disciples to action, to +the objective world; and in order that this action may be profitable, it +must be definite and within a limited sphere. He preaches +self-renunciation; but the self-renunciation he commends is not +self-mortification; it is the active self-abandonment of devotion to our +appropriate work. Such is the teaching of 'Wilhelm Meister': it traces +the progress of a youth far from extraordinary, yet having within him +the capacity for growth, progress through a thousand errors and +illusions, from splendid dreams to modest reality. Life is discovered by +Wilhelm to be a difficult piece of scholarship. The cry for freedom in +'Goetz,' the limitless sigh of passion heard in 'Werther,' are heard no +more. If freedom is to be attained, it can only be through obedience; if +we are to "return to nature," it cannot be in Rousseau's way but through +a wise art of living, an art not at odds with nature, but its +complement:-- + + "This is an art which does mend nature--but + The art itself is nature." + +If we ask,--for this, after all, is the capital question of +criticism,--What has Goethe done to make us better? the answer is: He +has made each of us aspire and endeavor to be no fragment of manhood, +but a man; he has taught us that to squander ourselves in vain desires +is the road to spiritual poverty; that to discover our appropriate work, +and to embody our passion in such work, is the way to true wealth; that +such passion and such toil must be not servile, but glad and free; that +the use of our intelligence is not chiefly to destroy, but to guide our +activity in construction; and that in doing our best work we incorporate +ourselves in the best possible way in the life of our fellows. Such +lessons may seem obvious; but they had not been taught by Goethe's great +predecessors, Voltaire and Rousseau. Goethe, unlike Voltaire, inculcates +reverence and love; unlike Rousseau, he teaches us to see objects +clearly as they are, he trains us to sanity. And Europe needed sanity in +the days of Revolution and in the days which followed of Reaction. + +Sanity for the imagination Goethe found in classical art. The young +leader of the Romantic revival in Germany resigned his leadership; he +seemed to his contemporaries to have lost the fire and impulse of his +youth; his work was found cold and formal. A great change had indeed +taken place within him; but his ardor had only grown steadier and +stronger, extending now to every part of his complex nature. The change +was a transition from what is merely inward and personal to what is +outward and general. Goethe cared less than formerly to fling out his +private passions, and cared more to comprehend the world and human life +and to interpret these through art. He did not go into bondage under the +authority of the ancients; but he found their methods right, and he +endeavored to work as they had worked. For a time the reaction carried +him too far: in seeking for what is general, he sometimes passed on to +what is abstract, and so was forced into the error of offering symbols +to represent these abstractions, instead of bodying forth his ideas in +imaginative creations. But in the noble drama of 'Iphigenie,' in the +epic-idyll of 'Hermann und Dorothea,' and in many of the ballads written +during his period of close companionship with Schiller, we have examples +of art at once modern in sentiment and classical in method. + +Goethe's faith in the methods of classical art never passed away, but +his narrow exclusiveness yielded. He became, with certain guiding +principles which served as a control, a great eclectic, appropriating to +his own uses whatever he perceived to be excellent. As in 'Hermann und +Dorothea' he unites the influences of Greek art with true German +feeling, so in his collection of short lyrics, the 'West-Oestlicher +Divan' (West-Eastern Divan), he brings together the genius of the Orient +and that of the Western world, and sheds over both the spiritual +illumination of the wisdom of his elder years. Gradually his creative +powers waned, but he was still interested in all--except perhaps +politics--that can concern the mind; he was still the greatest of +critics, entering with his intelligence into everything and +understanding everything, as nearly universal in his sympathies as a +human mind can be. The Goethe of these elder years is seen to most +advantage in the 'Conversations with Eckermann.' + +The most invulnerable of Goethe's writings are his lyrical poems; +against the best of these, criticism can allege nothing. They need no +interpreter. But the reader who studies them in chronological order will +observe that as time went on, the lyric which is a spontaneous jet of +feeling is replaced by the lyric in which there is constructive art and +considerate evolution. In the poems of the 'West-Oestlicher Divan' Goethe +returns to the lyric of spontaneity, but their inspiration is rather +that of a gracious wisdom, at once serious and playful, than of passion. + +His period of romance and sentiment is best represented by 'The Sorrows +of Werther.' His adult wisdom of life is found most abundantly in +'Wilhelm Meister's Apprenticeship.' The world has long since agreed that +if Goethe is to be represented by a single work, it shall be by 'Faust.' +And even those who perceive that 'Faust' is best understood by being +taken along with Goethe's other writings--his early 'Prometheus,' his +autobiography, his travels in Italy, his classical dramas, his +scientific studies, his work as a critic, his vast correspondence, his +conversations in old age--cannot quarrel with the judgment of the world. + +'Faust,' if we include under that name the First and the Second Parts, +is the work of Goethe's whole life. Begun and even far advanced in early +manhood, it was taken up again in his midmost years, and was completed +with a faltering hand in the closing season of his old age. What it +loses in unity, or at least in harmonious development as a piece of art, +it gains in autobiographical interest. All his works, Goethe said, +constituted a great confession. More than any other of his writings, +'Faust' is the confession of his life. + +There are two ways in which a reader may deal with 'Faust.' He may +choose for his own delight a fragment, detach it and disregard the rest; +he may view this fragment, if he pleases, as a whole, as a rounded work +of art. Such a reader will refuse to pass beyond the First Part of the +vast encyclopaedic poem. To do this is legitimate. The earliest form in +which we possess the drama, that of the transcript made by Fraeulein von +Goechhausen, is a tragedy which might be named 'The Tragedy of Margaret.' +Possibilities of further development lay in the subject, were indeed +required by the subject, and Goethe had probably already conceived +certain of them; yet the stadium in the progress of Faust's history +included in 'The Tragedy of Margaret' had a unity in itself. But a +reader may approach 'Faust' otherwise; he may view it as expressing the +complete mind of Goethe on some of the deepest problems of human life. +Viewing it thus, he must accept the whole work as Goethe has given it; +he must hold in abeyance, at least for a time, his own particular +likings and dislikes. While keeping his mind open to all the poetry of +Faust, he will soon discover that here is something more than a poem. It +may be unfortunate for the work of art that it belongs, certainly in its +execution, possibly even in the growth of its conception, to far +sundered periods of its author's career, when his feelings respecting +art were different, when his capacity for rendering his ideas was now +more and now less adequate. Such a reader, however, would part with +nothing: in what is admirable he finds the master's hand; in what is +feeble he discovers the same hand, but faltering, and pathetic in its +infirmity. He is interested in 'Faust' not solely or chiefly as 'The +Tragedy of Margaret': he finds in it the intellect, the character, the +life of Goethe; it is a repository of the deepest thoughts and feelings +concerning human existence of a wise seer, a repository in which he laid +by those thoughts and feelings during sixty years of his mortal +wayfaring. + +From early manhood to extreme old age 'Faust' was with Goethe, receiving +now and again, in Frankfort, in Weimar, in Rome, some new accession. We +can distinguish the strata or formations of youth, of manhood, and of +the closing years. We recognize by their diversities of style those +parts which were written when creation was swift and almost involuntary, +a passion and a joy, and those parts through which Goethe labored at an +old man's pace, accomplishing to-day a hand's-breadth, to-morrow perhaps +less, and binding blank pages into his manuscript, that the sight of the +gaps might irritate him to produce. What unity can such a work possess, +except that which comes from the fact that it all proceeded from a +single mind, and that some main threads of thought--for it would be rash +to speak of a ground idea--run through the several parts and bind them +together? 'Faust' has not the unity of a lake whose circuit the eye can +contemplate, a crystal set among the hills. Its unity is that of a +river, rising far away in mountain solitudes, winding below many a +mirrored cliff, passing the habitations of men, temple and mart, fields +of rural toil and fields of war, reaching it may be dull levels, and +forgetting the bright speed it had, until at last the dash of waves is +heard, and its course is accomplished; but from first to last one +stream, proceeding from a single source. Tourists may pick out a +picturesque fragment of its wanderings, and this is well; but perhaps it +is better to find the poetry of its entire career, from its cloudy +cradle to the flats where it loses itself in the ocean. + +The first part of 'Faust' is itself the work of more periods than one. +The original conception may belong to Goethe's student days at +Strassburg. He had grown weary of the four Faculties,--alas, even of +theology; he had known a maiden as fair and sweet and simple as +Gretchen, and he had left her widowed of her first love; and there in +Strassburg was the presence of that old Cathedral, which inspired so +terrible a scene in the 'Faust.' From Strassburg he returned to +Frankfort, and no moments of his career of authorship were more fruitful +than these which preceded the first Weimar years. It was in the heart of +the Storm and Stress; it was the time of 'Goetz' and 'Mahomet' and the +'Wandering Jew' and 'Werther' and 'Prometheus.' Here in Faust was +another and a nobler Werther seeking the infinite; here was another +Prometheus, a Titan shackled yet unsubduable. By Goethe's twenty-sixth +year the chief portions of the 'Faust, a Fragment,' published when he +was forty-one, had been written. But two scenes were added in Rome,--one +of these strange in its fantasy, the Witches' Kitchen,--as if to show +that the poet of the North was not quite enslaved by the beauty of +classic art. It was in the last decade of the eighteenth century that +Schiller succeeded in persuading Goethe to open his Faust papers, and +try to recover the threads of his design. Not until 1808, Goethe's +fifty-ninth year, was the First Part published as we now possess it. It +is therefore incorrect to speak of this Part as the work of the author's +youth; even here a series of strata belonging to different periods can +be distinguished, and critics have contended that even in this Part may +be discovered two schemes or plans not wholly in harmony each with the +other. + +The first Fragment was written, as has been said, in the spirit of the +Storm and Stress. Goethe was weary of the four Faculties. The magic work +of the time which was to restore vigor and joy to men was _Nature_. This +is the theme of the opening scene of 'Faust.' Among old instruments and +dusty folios and ancestral lumber and brute skeletons, away from Nature +and her living founts of inspiration, the old scholar has found neither +joy nor true knowledge. He opens the book of Nostradamus and gazes upon +the sign of the Macrocosm; here in a symbol he beholds the life and +energy of nature:-- + + "Where shall I grasp thee, infinite Nature, where? + Ye breasts, ye fountains of all life whereon + Hang heaven and earth." + +He cannot grasp them; and then turning from the great Cosmos, he thinks +he may at least dare to invoke the spirit of our own mother planet +Earth. But to Faust, with eyes bleared with the dust of the study, to +Faust, living in his own speculations or in dogmatic systems, the aspect +of the Earth Spirit--a living fire--is terrible. He falls back upon +himself almost despairing, when the famulus Wagner enters. What Werner +was to the idealist Wilhelm Meister, Wagner is to the idealist Faust: +the mere scraping together of a little hoard of barren facts contents +Wagner; such grief, such despair as Faust's, are for this Philistine of +learning impossible. And then the fragment of 1790 passes on to +Mephistopheles. Whether or not Goethe found the features of his critical +demon in Herder (as Grimm supposes), and afterwards united these to the +more pronounced likeness in his friend Mephistopheles Merck, matters +little. Whether Herder and Merck had been present or not, Goethe would +have found Mephistopheles in his own heart. For the contrast between the +idealist Faust and the realist Mephistopheles exists in some form or +other in almost every great creation of Goethe. It is the contrast +between Werther and Albert, between Tasso and Antonio, between Edward +and the Captain. Sometimes the nobler spirit of worldliness is dwelt on, +as in the case of Antonio; sometimes the cold, hard, cynical side, as in +the case of Mephistopheles. The theme of Faust as originally conceived +was the turning of an idealist from his own private thoughts and dreams +to the real world; from all that is unnatural,--systems, speculations, +barren knowledge,--to nature and the founts of life; from the solitary +cell to the company of men; to action, beauty, life, and love. If he +can really succeed in achieving this wisely and well, Faust is saved. He +is delivered from solitude, the inane of speculation, the vagueness of +idealism, and made one with the band of his toiling fellows. But to +accompany him there is the spirit of base worldliness, the realist, the +cynic, who sees the meaner side of all that is actual, who if possible +will seduce Faust into accepting the world apart from that elevating +spirit which ennobles actual life, who will try to baffle and degrade +Faust by degrading all that he now seeks,--action and beauty and life +and love. + +It is Goethe himself who is at odds with himself,--the realist Goethe +set over against the idealist Goethe; and Mephistopheles is the base +realist, the cynic whose endeavor is to mar the union of high poetry and +high prose in human life, which union of high poetry with high prose +Goethe always looked upon as the true condition of man's activity. In +the Prologue in Heaven, written when Schiller had persuaded Goethe to +take up the threads of his play, the Lord speaks of Faust as his +servant. Mephistopheles wagers that he will seduce Faust from his +allegiance to the Highest. The Lord does not wager; he _knows_:-- + + "Though now he serve me in a maze of doubt, + Yet I will lead him soon where all is clear; + The gardener knows, when first the bushes sprout, + That bloom and fruit will deck the riper year." + +These vague passionate longings of Faust after truth and reality and +life and love are not evil; they are good: they are as yet indeed but +the sprouting of the immature leaf and bud, but the Lord sees in these +the fruit that is to be. Therefore let Mephistopheles, the spirit of +negation, try his worst, and at the last discover how an earnest +striver's ways are justified by God. Faust may wander, err, fall, +grievously offend,--"as long as man lives, man errs;" but for him who +ever strives upward, through all his errors, there is redemption in the +end. + +The poem belongs to its epoch. Faust is the idealist, Mephistopheles is +the realist, of the eighteenth century. Faust aspires to nature and +freedom like one who had drunk deeply of Rousseau. Mephistopheles speaks +like a degraded disciple of Voltaire, who has lost his master's positive +faith in the human reason. Goethe can accept as his own neither the +position of Voltaire nor that of Rousseau; but actually he started in +life as an antagonist of Voltaire and a disciple of Rousseau, and in +like manner his Faust starts on his career as one who longs for a +"return to nature." While from merely negative criticism nothing +virtuous can be born, the vague longings of one who loves and hopes +promise measureless good. + +Faust's vast aspirations, then, are not sinful; they only need to be +limited and directed to suitable ends. It is as God's servant that he +goes forth with the Demon from his study to the world. And +Mephistopheles's first attempt to degrade Faust is a failure. In the +orgy of Auerbach's cellar, while the boisterous young bloods clash their +glasses, the old scholar sits silent, isolated, ashamed. It is only by +infecting his blood with the witch's poison that Mephistopheles can lay +hold of the spirit of Faust even for a time; and had he not seen in the +mirror that vision of Helena, whom he rightly loves, and whom indeed he +needs, he could not have put to his lips the filthy brewage of the +witch. But now indeed he is snared; the poison rages in his veins; for +one hour he is transformed into what the world basely calls a man of +pleasure. Yet Faust is not wholly lost: his better self, the untrained, +untamed idealist, begins to reassert its power; the fumes of the poison +dissipate themselves. Guilty though he be, his love of Margaret is not +what Mephistopheles requires that it should be: it is not calculating, +egoistic, cynical, nor dull, easeful, and lethargic. It is not the crime +of an experienced worldling nor of a dull, low liver: it is the crime of +one whose unwise heart and untaught imagination delude him; and +therefore though his fall be deep, it is not fatal. The wrong he has +wrought may be blind and terrible as that of Othello to Desdemona; but +it is not the serpentine stinging of an Iago or a Mephistopheles. + +So through anguish and remorse Faust is doing off the swathe-bands of +delusion, learning to master his will, learning his own heart, learning +the meaning of existence: he does not part from his ideal self, his high +aspirations, his ardent hopes; he is rather transforming these into +realities; he is advancing from dreams to facts, so that in the end, +when his life becomes a lofty prose, it may be interpenetrated by a +noble poetry. + +It were long to trace the history of Faust through the ever purifying +and ascending scale of energies exhibited in the Second Part of the +drama. Affairs of State, science, art, war--all that Goethe had known by +experience--appear in this encyclopaedic poem. One word, however, must be +said respecting the 'Helena.' It is a mistake to view this central +portion of the Second Part as solely or chiefly an allegory of the +wedlock of classic and romantic art. As science is shown to form a +needful part of Faust's turning from the inane of metaphysics to the +positive world, so from the Greek spirit he learns sanity and strength; +the deliverance of the ideal man in Faust is aided by the beauty and the +healthfulness of classic art. Through beauty, as Schiller tried to show +in his letters on 'AEsthetic Culture,' we attain to freedom. Faust is not +an artist, but a _man_; Helena is but one of the spirits whose influence +is needed to make him real and elevated. It is she who qualifies him +for achieving practical work in a high, ideal spirit. + +The Fourth Act of the Second Part is wholly concerned with practical +work. What is this which engages the student of the metaphysic cell, who +had gone through the four Faculties, and is now once again grown old? +What is this? Only well-defined and useful activity. He has rescued some +acres of arable land from the rage of the barren sea. + +But Faust is not yet wholly delivered from evil; his activity is useful, +indeed, but it lacks the finer grace of charity. He commissions +Mephistopheles to destroy the cottage of old Philemon and Baucis, which +stands in the way of his territorial improvements. It is the last crime +of the unregenerate will. The four gray women--Care and Blame and Want +and Crime--now assail him; but there is virtue in him to the last. +However it may be with himself, grant only that ages hence the children +of men, free and happy, may dwell upon the soil which he has saved for +their place of labor and of love,--grant but this, and even in the +anticipation of it he is made possessor of the highest bliss. Nor indeed +is higher permitted to man on earth. And now that Faust has at last +found satisfaction, and said to the passing moment, "Stay, thou art so +fair," the time has come for Mephistopheles to claim his soul. But in +this very aspiration after the perfect joy of others--not his own--Faust +is forever delivered from the Evil One. The gray old man lies stretched +upon the sand. Higher powers than those of his own will take him, guard +him, lead him forward. The messengers of God bear away his immortal +part. All Holy Hermits, all Holy Innocents, all Holy Virgins, the less +and the greater Angels, and redeemed women who have sinned and sorrowed +and have been purified, aid in his ultimate purification. It is the same +thought which was interpreted in a lower key when Wilhelm Meister's fate +was intrusted to Natalia. Usefulness is good; activity is good: but over +all these should soar and brood the Divine graces of life, and love the +chief of these. That which leads us farther than all the rest is what +Goethe names "the imperishable womanly grace," that of love. And so the +great mystery-play reaches its close. + + [Signature: Edward Dowden] + + BIOGRAPHICAL NOTE.--Johann Wolfgang von Goethe was born at + Frankfort-on-the-Main, August 28th, 1749; he attended the + University of Leipzig 1765-1768, and went to Strassburg in + 1770, where he met Herder, made the acquaintance of + Shakespeare, and in 1771 took his degree. 'Goetz von + Berlichingen' in 1773 announced the dawn of a new era in + German letters, and in 1774 'The Sorrows of Werther' made the + poet world-famous. In 1775 Goethe accepted the invitation of + Duke Carl August and went to Weimar, which remained + thenceforth his home. The Italian journey, marking an epoch in + the poet's life, took place in 1786-1787. The 'Faust Fragment' + appeared in 1790. The friendship with Schiller, also of + far-reaching importance in Goethe's life, began in 1794 and + was terminated only by Schiller's death in 1805. 'Hermann and + Dorothea' was published in 1797. In 1806 Goethe married + Christiane Vulpius. The First Part of 'Faust' appeared in + 1808;--in 1816 the poet is at work upon his 'Autobiography' + and the 'Italian Journey'; the first part of 'Wilhelm + Meister's Apprenticeship' appeared in 1821, and was completed + in 1829. 'Faust' was finished on July 20th, 1831. Goethe died + at Weimar on March 22d, 1832. + + + +FROM 'FAUST' + +CHORUS OF THE ARCHANGELS; FROM THE PROLOGUE IN HEAVEN + +Shelley's Translation + + + _Raphael_-- + The sun makes music as of old + Amid the rival spheres of heaven, + On its predestined circle rolled + With thunder speed; the angels even + Draw strength from gazing on its glance, + Though none its meaning fathom may + The world's unwithered countenance + Is bright as at creation's day. + + _Gabriel_-- + And swift and swift with rapid lightness + The adorned earth spins silently, + Alternating Elysian brightness + With deep and dreadful night; the sea + Foams in broad billows from the deep + Up to the rocks, and rocks and ocean, + Onward, with spheres which never sleep, + Are hurried in eternal motion. + _Michael_-- + And tempests in contention roar + From land to sea, from sea to land; + And raging, weave a chain of power, + Which girds the earth as with a band. + A flashing desolation there + Flames before the thunder's way; + But thy servants, Lord, revere + The gentle changes of thy day. + + CHORUS OF THE THREE + + The angels draw strength from thy glance, + Though no one comprehend thee may; + Thy world's unwithered countenance + Is bright as on creation's day. + + + +SCENES FROM 'FAUST' + +Translated by Bayard Taylor + + All the following selections from 'Faust' are from Taylor's + translation. Copyright 1870, by Bayard Taylor, and reprinted + here by permission of and special agreement with Mrs. Taylor, + and Houghton, Mifflin & Co., publishers, Boston. + + +FAUST AND WAGNER + + FAUST + + Oh, happy he, who still renews + The hope from Error's deeps to rise forever! + That which one does not know, one needs to use, + And what one knows, one uses never. + But let us not, by such despondence, so + The fortune of this hour embitter! + Mark how, beneath the evening sunlight's glow, + The green-embosomed houses glitter! + The glow retreats; done is the day of toil; + It yonder hastes, new fields of life exploring; + Ah, that no wing can lift me from the soil, + Upon its track to follow, follow soaring! + Then would I see eternal Evening gild + The silent world beneath me glowing, + On fire each mountain-peak, with peace each valley filled, + The silver brook to golden rivers flowing. + The mountain chain, with all its gorges deep, + Would then no more impede my godlike motion; + And now before mine eyes expands the ocean + With all its bays, in shining sleep! + Yet finally the weary god is sinking; + The new-born impulse fires my mind.-- + I hasten on, his beams eternal drinking. + The Day before me and the Night behind. + Above me heaven unfurled, the floor of waves beneath me,-- + A glorious dream! though now the glories fade. + Alas! the wings that lift the mind no aid + Of wings to lift the body can bequeath me. + Yet in each soul is born the pleasure + Of yearning onward, upward and away. + When o'er our heads, lost in the vaulted azure, + The lark sends down his flickering lay, + When over crags and piny highlands + The poising eagle slowly soars, + And over plains and lakes and islands + The crane sails by to other shores. + + WAGNER + + I've had, myself, at times, some odd caprices, + But never yet such impulse felt, as this is. + One soon fatigues on woods and fields to look, + Nor would I beg the bird his wing to spare us: + How otherwise the mental raptures bear us + From page to page, from book to book! + Then winter nights take loveliness untold, + As warmer life in every limb had crowned you; + And when your hands unroll some parchment rare and old, + All heaven descends, and opens bright around you! + + FAUST + + One impulse art thou conscious of, at best; + Oh, never seek to know the other! + Two souls, alas! reside within my breast, + And each withdraws from, and repels, its brother. + One with tenacious organs holds in love + And clinging lust the world in its embraces; + The other strongly sweeps, this dust above, + Into the high ancestral spaces. + If there be airy spirits near, + 'Twixt heaven and earth on potent errands fleeing, + Let them drop down the golden atmosphere, + And bear me forth to new and varied being! + Yea, if a magic mantle once were mine, + To waft me o'er the world at pleasure, + I would not for the costliest stores of treasure-- + Not for a monarch's robe--the gift resign. + + +FAUST AND MEPHISTOPHELES + + FAUST + + Canst thou, poor Devil, give me whatsoever? + When was a human soul, in its supreme endeavor. + E'er understood by such as thou? + Yet hast thou food which never satiates now: + The restless, ruddy gold hast thou, + That runs quicksilver-like one's fingers through; + A game whose winnings no man ever knew; + A maid that even from my breast + Beckons my neighbor with her wanton glances, + And Honor's godlike zest, + The meteor that a moment dances,-- + Show me the fruits that, ere they're gathered, rot, + And trees that daily with new leafage clothe them! + + MEPHISTOPHELES + + Such a demand alarms me not: + Such treasures have I, and can show them. + But still the time may reach us, good my friend, + When peace we crave, and more luxurious diet. + + FAUST + + When on an idler's bed I stretch myself in quiet, + There let at once my record end! + Canst thou with lying flattery rule me, + Until self-pleased myself I see,-- + Canst thou with rich enjoyment fool me, + Let that day be the last for me! + The bet I offer. + + MEPHISTOPHELES + + Done! + + FAUST + + And heartily! + When thus I hail the Moment flying: + "Ah, still delay--thou art so fair!"-- + Then bind me in thy bonds undying, + My final ruin then declare! + Then let the death-bell chime the token, + Then art thou from thy service free! + The clock may stop, the hand be broken, + Then Time be finished unto me! + + +FOREST AND CAVERN + + FAUST [_alone_] + + Spirit sublime, thou gav'st me, gav'st me all + For which I prayed. Not unto me in vain + Hast thou thy countenance revealed in fire. + Thou gav'st me nature as a kingdom grand, + With power to feel and to enjoy it. Thou + Not only cold, amazed acquaintance yield'st, + But grantest that in her profoundest breast + I gaze, as in the bosom of a friend. + The ranks of living creatures thou dost lead + Before me, teaching me to know my brothers + In air and water and the silent wood. + And when the storm in forests roars and grinds, + The giant firs, in falling, neighbor boughs + And neighbor trunks with crushing weight bear down, + And falling, fill the hills with hollow thunders,-- + Then to the cave secure thou leadest me, + Then show'st me mine own self, and in my breast + The deep mysterious miracles unfold. + And when the perfect moon before my gaze + Comes up with soothing light, around me float + From every precipice and thicket damp + The silvery phantoms of the ages past, + And temper the austere delight of thought. + + That nothing can be perfect unto Man + I now am conscious. With this ecstasy, + Which brings me near and nearer to the gods, + Thou gav'st the comrade, whom I now no more + Can do without, though, cold and scornful, he + Demeans me to myself, and with a breath, + A word, transforms thy gifts to nothingness. + Within my breast he fans a lawless fire, + Unwearied, for that fair and lovely form: + Thus in desire I hasten to enjoyment, + And in enjoyment pine to feel desire. + + MARGARET [_At the spinning-wheel, alone_] + + My peace is gone, + My heart is sore: + I never shall find it, + Ah, nevermore! + + Save I have him near, + The grave is here; + The world is gall + And bitterness all. + + My poor weak head + Is racked and crazed; + My thought is lost, + My senses mazed. + + My peace is gone, + My heart is sore: + I never shall find it, + Ah, nevermore! + + To see him, him only, + At the pane I sit; + To meet him, him only, + The house I quit. + + His lofty gait, + His noble size, + The smile of his mouth, + The power of his eyes, + + And the magic flow + Of his talk, the bliss + In the clasp of his hand, + And ah! his kiss! + + My peace is gone, + My heart is sore: + I never shall find it, + Ah, nevermore! + + My bosom yearns + For him alone; + Ah, dared I clasp him, + And hold, and own! + + And kiss his mouth + To heart's desire, + And on his kisses + At last expire! + + +MARTHA'S GARDEN + + MARGARET + + Promise me, Henry!-- + + FAUST + + What I can! + + MARGARET + + How is't with thy religion, pray? + Thou art a dear, good-hearted man, + And yet, I think, dost not incline that way. + + FAUST + + Leave that, my child! Thou know'st my love is tender; + For love, my blood and life would I surrender, + And as for faith and church, I grant to each his own. + + MARGARET + + That's not enough: we must believe thereon. + + FAUST + + Must we? + + MARGARET + + Would that I had some influence! + Then, too, thou honorest not the Holy Sacraments. + + FAUST + + I honor them. + + MARGARET + + Desiring no possession. + 'Tis long since thou hast been to mass or to confession. + Believest thou in God? + + FAUST + + My darling, who shall dare + "I believe in God!" to say? + Ask priest or sage the answer to declare, + And it will seem a mocking play, + A sarcasm on the asker. + + MARGARET + + Then thou believest not! + + FAUST + + Hear me not falsely, sweetest countenance! + Who dare express Him? + And who profess Him, + Saying: I believe in Him! + Who, feeling, seeing, + Deny His being, + Saying: I believe Him not! + The All-enfolding, + The All-upholding, + Folds and upholds he not + Thee, me, Himself? + Arches not there the sky above us? + Lies not beneath us, firm, the earth? + And rise not, on us shining + Friendly, the everlasting stars? + Look I not, eye to eye, on thee, + And feel'st not, thronging + To head and heart, the force, + Still weaving its eternal secret, + Invisible, visible, round thy life? + Vast as it is, fill with that force thy heart, + And when thou in the feeling wholly blessed art, + Call it, then, what thou wilt,-- + Call it Bliss! Heart! Love! God!-- + I have no name to give it! + Feeling is all in all: + The Name is sound and smoke, + Obscuring Heaven's clear glow. + + MARGARET + + All that is fine and good, to hear it so: + Much the same way the preacher spoke, + Only with slightly different phrases. + + FAUST + + The same thing, in all places, + All hearts that beat beneath the heavenly day-- + Each in its language--say; + Then why not I in mine as well? + + MARGARET + + To hear it thus, it may seem passable; + And yet some hitch in't there must be, + For thou hast no Christianity. + + FAUST + + Dear love! + + MARGARET + + I've long been grieved to see + That thou art in such company. + + FAUST + + How so? + + MARGARET + + The man who with thee goes, thy mate, + Within my deepest, inmost soul I hate. + In all my life there's nothing + Has given my heart so keen a pang of loathing + As his repulsive face has done. + + FAUST + + Nay, fear him not, my sweetest one! + + MARGARET + + I feel his presence like something ill. + I've else, for all, a kindly will, + But, much as my heart to see thee yearneth, + The secret horror of him returneth; + And I think the man a knave, as I live! + If I do him wrong, may God forgive! + + FAUST + + There must be such queer birds, however. + + MARGARET + + Live with the like of him may I never! + When once inside the door comes he, + He looks around so sneeringly, + And half in wrath: + One sees that in nothing no interest he hath: + 'Tis written on his very forehead + That love, to him, is a thing abhorred. + I am so happy on thine arm, + So free, so yielding, and so warm, + And in his presence stifled seems my heart. + + FAUST + + Foreboding angel that thou art! + + +IN THE DUNGEON + + _In a niche of the wall a shrine, with an image of the Mater + Dolorosa. Pots of flowers before it_ + + MARGARET [_Putting fresh flowers in the pots_] + + Incline, O Maiden, + Thou sorrow-laden, + Thy gracious countenance upon my pain! + + The sword thy heart in, + With anguish smarting, + Thou lookest up to where thy Son is slain! + + Thou seest the Father; + The sad sighs gather, + And bear aloft thy sorrow and his pain! + + Ah, past guessing, + Beyond expressing, + The pangs that wring my flesh and bone! + Why this anxious heart so burneth, + Why it trembleth, why it yearneth, + Knowest thou, and thou alone! + + Where'er I go, what sorrow, + What woe, what woe and sorrow + Within my bosom aches! + Alone, and ah! unsleeping, + I'm weeping, weeping, weeping,-- + The heart within me breaks. + + The pots before my window, + Alas! my tears did wet, + As in the early morning + For thee these flowers I set. + Within my lonely chamber + The morning sun shone red: + I sat in utter sorrow, + Already on my bed. + + Help! rescue me from death and stain! + O Maiden! + Thou sorrow-laden, + Incline thy countenance upon my pain! + + +IN THE DUNGEON + + FAUST + + _With a bunch of keys and a lamp, before an iron door_ + + A shudder, long unfelt, comes o'er me; + Mankind's collected woe o'erwhelms me here. + She dwells within the dark, damp walls before me, + And all her crime was a delusion dear! + What! I delay to free her? + I dread, once again to see her? + On! my shrinking but lingers Death more near. + + [_He grasps the lock: the sound of singing is heard inside._] + + _My mother the harlot, + Who put me to death; + My father the varlet, + Who eaten me hath! + Little sister, so good, + Laid my bones in the wood, + In the damp moss and clay: + Then was I a beautiful bird o' the wood: + Fly away! Fly away!_ + + FAUST [_unlocking_] + + She does not dream her lover listens near; + That he the rattling chain, the rustling straw, can hear. + + MARGARET [_hiding herself on the pallet_] + + Woe! woe! They come. O death of bitterness! + + FAUST [_whispering_] + + Hush! hush! The hour is come that frees thee. + + MARGARET [_throwing herself before him_] + + Art thou a man? then pity my distress! + + FAUST + + Thy cries will wake the guards, and they will seize thee! + + [_He takes hold of the fetters to unlock them._ + + MARGARET [_on her knees_] + + Who, headsman! unto thee such power + Over me could give? + Thou'rt come for me at midnight hour: + Have mercy on me; let me live! + Is't not soon enough when morning chime has rung? + [_She rises._ + And I am yet so young, so young! + And now death comes, and ruin! + I, too, was fair, and that was my undoing. + My love was near, but now he's far; + Torn lies the wreath, scattered the blossoms are. + Seize me not thus so violently! + Spare me! What have I done to thee? + Let me not vainly entreat thee! + I never chanced, in all my days, to meet thee! + + FAUST + + Shall I outlive this misery? + + MARGARET + + Now am I wholly in thy might. + But let me suckle, first, my baby! + I blissed it all this livelong night; + They took 't away, to vex me, maybe, + And now they say I killed the child outright. + And never shall I be glad again. + They sing songs about me! 'tis bad of the folk to do it! + There's an old story has the same refrain; + Who bade them so construe it? + + FAUST [_falling upon his knees_] + + Here lieth one who loves thee ever, + The thraldom of thy woe to sever. + + MARGARET [_flinging herself beside him_] + + Oh let us kneel, and call the saints to hide us! + Under the steps beside us, + The threshold under, + Hell heaves in thunder! + The Evil One + With terrible wrath + Seeketh a path + His prey to discover! + + FAUST [_aloud_] + + Margaret! Margaret! + + MARGARET [_attentively listening_] + + That was the voice of my lover! + + [_She springs to her feet: the fetters fall off._ + + Where is he? I heard him call me. + I am free! No one shall enthrall me. + To his neck will I fly, + On his bosom lie! + On the threshold he stood, and _Margaret!_ calling, + 'Midst of hell's howling and noises appalling, + 'Midst of the wrathful, infernal derision, + I knew the sweet sound of the voice of the vision! + + FAUST + + 'Tis I! + + MARGARET + + 'Tis thou! O, say it once again! + [_Clasping him._ + 'Tis he! 'tis he! Where now is all my pain? + The anguish of the dungeon, and the chain? + 'Tis thou! Thou comest to save me, + And I am saved! + Again the street I see + Where first I looked on thee; + And the garden, brightly blooming, + Where I and Martha wait thy coming. + + FAUST [_struggling to leave_] + + Come! Come with me! + + [Illustration: _FAUST AND MARGARET IN PRISON._ + Photogravure from a Drawing by A. Leisen-Mayer.] + + MARGARET + + Delay, now! + So fain I stay, when thou delayest! + [_Caressing him._ + + FAUST + + Away, now! + If longer here thou stayest, + We shall be made to dearly rue it. + + MARGARET + + Kiss me!--canst no longer do it? + My friend, so short a time thou 'rt missing, + And hast unlearned thy kissing? + Why is my heart so anxious, on thy breast? + Where once a heaven thy glances did create me, + A heaven thy loving words expressed, + And thou didst kiss as thou wouldst suffocate me-- + Kiss me! + Or I'll kiss thee! + [_She embraces him._ + Ah, woe! thy lips are chill, + And still. + How changed in fashion + Thy passion! + Who has done me this ill? + [_She turns away from him._ + + FAUST + + Come, follow me! My darling, be more bold: + I'll clasp thee, soon, with warmth a thousandfold; + But follow now! 'Tis all I beg of thee. + + MARGARET [_turning to him_] + + And is it thou? Thou, surely, certainly? + + FAUST + + 'Tis I! Come on! + + MARGARET + + Thou wilt unloose my chain, + And in thy lap wilt take me once again. + How comes it that thou dost not shrink from me?-- + Say, dost thou know, my friend, whom thou mak'st free? + + FAUST + + Come! come! The night already vanisheth. + + MARGARET + + My mother have I put to death; + I've drowned the baby born to thee. + Was it not given to thee and me? + Thee, too!--'Tis thou! It scarcely true doth seem-- + Give me thy hand! 'Tis not a dream! + Thy dear, dear hand!--But, ah, 'tis wet! + Why, wipe it off! Methinks that yet + There's blood thereon. + Ah, God! what hast thou done? + Nay, sheathe thy sword at last! + Do not affray me! + + FAUST + + Oh, let the past be past! + Thy words will slay me! + + MARGARET + + No, no! Thou must outlive us. + Now I'll tell thee the graves to give us: + Thou must begin to-morrow + The work of sorrow! + The best place give to my mother, + Then close at her side my brother, + And me a little away, + But not too very far, I pray! + And here, on my right breast, my baby lay! + Nobody else will lie beside me!-- + Ah, within thine arms to hide me, + That was a sweet and a gracious bliss, + But no more, no more can I attain it! + I would force myself on thee and constrain it, + And it seems thou repellest my kiss: + And yet 'tis thou, so good, so kind to see! + + FAUST + + If thou feelest it is I, then come with me! + + MARGARET + + Out yonder? + + FAUST + + To freedom. + + MARGARET + + If the grave is there, + Death lying in wait, then come! + From here to eternal rest: + No further step--no, no! + Thou goest away! O Henry, if I could go! + + FAUST + + Thou canst! Just will it! Open stands the door. + + MARGARET + + I dare not go: there's no hope any more. + Why should I fly? They'll still my steps waylay! + It is so wretched, forced to beg my living, + And a bad conscience sharper misery giving! + It is so wretched, to be strange, forsaken, + And I'd still be followed and taken! + + FAUST + + I'll stay with thee. + + MARGARET + + Be quick! Be quick! + Save thy perishing child! + Away! Follow the ridge + Up by the brook, + Over the bridge, + Into the wood, + To the left, where the plank is placed + In the pool! + Seize it in haste! + 'Tis trying to rise, + 'Tis struggling still! + Save it! Save it! + + FAUST + + Recall thy wandering will! + One step, and thou art free at last! + + MARGARET + + If the mountain we had only passed! + There sits my mother upon a stone,-- + I feel an icy shiver! + There sits my mother upon a stone, + And her head is wagging ever. + She beckons, she nods not, her heavy head falls o'er; + She slept so long that she wakes no more. + She slept, while we were caressing: + Ah, those were the days of blessing! + + FAUST + + Here words and prayers are nothing worth; + I'll venture, then, to bear thee forth. + + MARGARET + + No--let me go! I'll suffer no force! + Grasp me not so murderously! + I've done, else, all things for the love of thee. + + FAUST + + The day dawns: Dearest! Dearest! + + MARGARET + + Day? Yes, the day comes,--the last day breaks for me! + My wedding day it was to be! + Tell no one thou hast been with Margaret! + Woe for my garland! The chances + Are over--'tis all in vain! + We shall meet once again, + But not at the dances! + The crowd is thronging, no word is spoken: + The square below + And the streets overflow: + The death-bell tolls, the wand is broken. + I am seized, and bound, and delivered-- + Shoved to the block--they give the sign! + Now over each neck has quivered + The blade that is quivering over mine. + Dumb lies the world like the grave! + + FAUST + + Oh, had I ne'er been born! + + MEPHISTOPHELES [_appears outside_] + + Off! or you're lost ere morn. + Useless talking, delaying, and praying! + My horses are neighing: + The morning twilight is near. + + MARGARET + + What rises up from the threshold here? + He! he! suffer him not! + What does he want in this holy spot? + He seeks me! + + FAUST + + Thou shalt live. + + MARGARET + + Judgment of God! myself to thee I give. + + MEPHISTOPHELES [_to Faust_] + + Come! or I'll leave her in the lurch, and thee! + + MARGARET + + Thine am I, Father! rescue me! + Ye angels, holy cohorts, guard me, + Camp around, and from evil ward me! + Henry! I shudder to think of thee. + + MEPHISTOPHELES + + She is judged! + + VOICE [_from above_] + + She is saved! + + MEPHISTOPHELES [_to Faust_] + + Hither to me! + [_He disappears with Faust._ + + VOICE [_from within, dying away_] + + Henry! Henry! + + +THE DEATH OF FOUST + + LEMURES [_Digging with mocking gestures_] + + In youth when I did love, did love, + Methought it was very sweet; + When 'twas jolly and merry every way, + And I blithely moved my feet. + + But now old Age, with his stealing steps, + Hath clawed me with his crutch: + I stumbled over the door of a grave; + Why leave they open such? + + FAUST [_Comes forth from the palace, groping his way along the + door-posts_] + + How I rejoice to hear the clattering spade! + It is the crowd, for me in service moiling, + Till Earth be reconciled to toiling, + Till the proud waves be stayed, + And the sea girded with a rigid zone. + + MEPHISTOPHELES [_aside_] + + And yet thou'rt laboring for us alone, + With all thy dikes and bulwarks daring; + Since thou for Neptune art preparing-- + The Ocean Devil--carousal great. + In every way shall ye be stranded; + The elements with us are banded, + And ruin is the certain fate. + + FAUST + + Overseer! + + MEPHISTOPHELES + + Here! + + FAUST + + However possible, + Collect a crowd of men with vigor, + Spur by indulgence, praise, or rigor,-- + Reward, allure, conscript, compel! + Each day report me, and correctly note + How grows in length the undertaken moat. + + MEPHISTOPHELES [_half aloud_] + + When they to me the information gave, + They spake not of a moat, but of--_a grave_. + + FAUST + + Below the hills a marshy plain + Infects what I so long have been retrieving; + This stagnant pool likewise to drain + Were now my latest and my best achieving. + To many millions let me furnish soil, + Though not secure, yet free to active toil; + Green, fertile fields, where men and herds go forth + At once, with comfort, on the newest earth, + And swiftly settled on the hill's firm base, + Created by the bold, industrious race. + A land like Paradise here, round about; + Up to the brink the tide may roar without, + And though it gnaw, to burst with force the limit, + By common impulse all unite to hem it. + Yes! to this thought I hold with firm persistence; + The last result of wisdom stamps it true: + He only earns his freedom and existence + Who daily conquers them anew. + Thus here, by dangers girt, shall glide away + Of childhood, manhood, age, the vigorous day: + And such a throng I fain would see,-- + Stand on free soil among a people free! + Then dared I hail the Moment fleeing: + "_Ah, still delay--thou art so fair!_" + The traces cannot, of mine earthly being, + In aeons perish,--they are there! + In proud fore-feeling of such lofty bliss, + I now enjoy the highest Moment,--this! + [_Faust sinks back: the Lemures take him + and lay him upon the ground._] + + MEPHISTOPHELES + + No joy could sate him, and suffice no bliss! + To catch but shifting shapes was his endeavor: + The latest, poorest, emptiest Moment--this,-- + He wished to hold it fast forever. + Me he resisted in such vigorous wise, + But Time is lord, on earth the old man lies. + The clock stands still-- + + CHORUS + + Stands still! silent as midnight, now! + The index falls. + + MEPHISTOPHELES + + It falls; and it is finished, here! + + CHORUS + + 'Tis past! + + MEPHISTOPHELES + + Past! a stupid word. + If past, then why? + Past and pure Naught, complete monotony! + What good for us, this endlessly creating?-- + What is created then annihilating? + "And now it's past!" Why read a page so twisted? + 'Tis just the same as if it ne'er existed, + Yet goes in circles round as if it had, however: + I'd rather choose, instead, the Void forever. + + +THE SALVATION OF FAUST + + ANGELS [_Soaring in the higher atmosphere, bearing the immortal part + of Faust_] + + The noble spirit now is free, + And saved from evil scheming: + Whoe'er aspires unweariedly + Is not beyond redeeming. + And if he feels the grace of love + That from on high is given, + The blessed hosts, that wait above, + Shall welcome him to heaven! + + THE YOUNGER ANGELS + + They, the roses, freely spended + By the penitent, the glorious, + Helped to make the fight victorious, + And the lofty work is ended. + We this precious soul have won us; + Evil ones we forced to shun us; + Devils fled us when we hit them: + 'Stead of pangs of hell, that bit them, + Love pangs felt they, sharper, vaster: + Even he, old Satan Master, + Pierced with keenest pain retreated. + Now rejoice! The work's completed! + + THE MORE PERFECT ANGELS + + Earth's residue to bear + Hath sorely pressed us; + It were not pure and fair, + Though 'twere asbestus. + When every element + The mind's high forces + Have seized, subdued, and blent, + No angel divorces + Twin natures single grown, + That inly mate them: + Eternal love alone + Can separate them. + + THE YOUNGER ANGELS + + Mist-like on heights above, + We now are seeing + Nearer and nearer move + Spiritual Being. + The clouds are growing clear; + And moving throngs appear + Of blessed boys, + Free from the earthly gloom, + In circling poise, + Who taste the cheer + Of the new springtime bloom + Of the upper sphere. + Let them inaugurate + Him to the perfect state, + Now, as their peer! + + THE BLESSED BOYS + + Gladly receive we now + Him, as a chrysalis: + Therefore achieve we now + Pledge of our bliss. + The earth-flakes dissipate + That cling around him! + See, he is fair and great! + Divine Life hath crowned him. + + DOCTOR MARIANUS [_In the highest, purest cell_] + + Free is the view at last, + The spirit lifted: + There women, floating past, + Are upward drifted: + The Glorious One therein, + With star-crown tender,-- + The pure, the Heavenly Queen, + I know her splendor. + + [_Enraptured_] + + Highest Mistress of the World! + Let me in the azure + Tent of Heaven, in light unfurled, + Here thy Mystery measure! + Justify sweet thoughts that move + Breast of man to meet thee, + And with holy bliss of love + Bear him up to greet thee! + With unconquered courage we + Do thy bidding highest; + But at once shall gentle be, + When thou pacifiest. + Virgin, pure in brightest sheen, + Mother sweet, supernal,-- + Unto us Elected Queen, + Peer of Gods Eternal! + Light clouds are circling + Around her splendor,-- + Penitent women + Of natures tender, + Her knees embracing, + Ether respiring, + Mercy requiring! + Thou, in immaculate ray, + Mercy not leavest, + And the lightly led astray, + Who trust thee, receivest! + In their weakness fallen at length, + Hard it is to save them: + Who can crush, by native strength, + Vices that enslave them? + Whose the foot that may not slip + On the surface slanting? + Whom befool not eye and lip, + Breath and voice enchanting? + + _The_ Mater Gloriosa _soars into the space_ + + CHORUS OF WOMEN PENITENTS + + To heights thou'rt speeding + Of endless Eden: + Receive our pleading, + Transcendent Maiden, + With mercy laden! + + MAGNA PECCATRIX [_St. Luke_, vii. 36] + + By the love before him kneeling,-- + Him, thy Son, a Godlike vision; + By the tears like balsam stealing, + Spite of Pharisees' derision; + By the box, whose ointment precious + Shed its spice and odors cheery; + By the locks, whose softest meshes + Dried the holy feet and weary!-- + + MULIER SAMARITANA [_St. John_, iv.] + + By that well, the ancient station + Whither Abram's flocks were driven; + By the jar, whose restoration + To the Savior's lips was given; + By the fountain pure and vernal, + Thence its present bounty spending,-- + Overflowing, bright, eternal, + Watering the worlds unending!-- + + MARIA AEGYPTIACA [_Acta Sanctorum_] + + By the place where the immortal + Body of the Lord hath lain; + By the arm which, from the portal, + Warning, thrust me back again; + By the forty years' repentance + In the lonely desert land; + By the blissful farewell sentence + Which I wrote upon the sand!-- + + THE THREE + + Thou thy presence not deniest + Unto sinful women ever,-- + Liftest them to win the highest + Gain of penitent endeavor,-- + So, from this good soul withdraw not-- + Who but once forgot, transgressing, + Who her loving error saw not-- + Pardon adequate, and blessing! + + UNA POENITENTIUM [_Formerly named Margaret, stealing closer_] + + Incline, O Maiden, + With mercy laden, + In light unfading, + Thy gracious countenance upon my bliss! + My loved, my lover, + His trials over + In yonder world, returns to me in this! + + BLESSED BOYS [_Approaching in hovering circles_] + + With mighty limbs he towers + Already above us; + He, for this love of ours, + Will richlier love us. + Early were we removed, + Ere Life could reach us; + Yet he hath learned and proved, + And he will teach us. + + THE PENITENT [_Formerly named Margaret_] + + The spirit choir around him seeing, + New to himself, he scarce divines + His heritage of new-born Being, + When like the Holy Host he shines. + Behold, how he each band hath cloven + The earthly life had round him thrown, + And through his garb, of ether woven, + The early force of youth is shown! + Vouchsafe to me that I instruct him! + Still dazzles him the Day's new glare. + + MATER GLORIOSA + + Rise thou to higher spheres! Conduct him, + Who, feeling thee, shall follow there! + + DOCTOR MARIANUS [_Prostrate, adoring_] + + Penitents, look up, elate. + Where she beams salvation; + Gratefully to blessed fate + Grow, in re-creation! + Be our souls, as they have been, + Dedicate to thee! + Virgin Holy, Mother, Queen, + Goddess, gracious be! + + CHORUS MYSTICUS + + All things transitory + But as symbols are sent: + Earth's insufficiency + Here grows to Event: + The Indescribable, + Here it is done: + The Woman Soul leadeth us + Upward and on! + + + +MIGNON'S LOVE AND LONGING + +From 'Wilhelm Meister's Apprenticeship.' Carlyle's Translation + + +Nothing is more touching than the first disclosure of a love which has +been nursed in silence; of a faith grown strong in secret, and which at +last comes forth in the hour of need and reveals itself to him who +formerly has reckoned it of small account. The bud which had been closed +so long and firmly was now ripe to burst its swathings, and Wilhelm's +heart could never have been readier to welcome the impressions of +affection. + +She stood before him, and noticed his disquietude. "Master!" she cried, +"if thou art unhappy, what will become of Mignon?" "Dear little +creature," said he, taking her hands, "thou too art part of my +anxieties. I must go hence." She looked at his eyes, glistening with +restrained tears, and knelt down with vehemence before him. He kept her +hands; she laid her head upon his knees, and remained quite still. He +played with her hair, patted her, and spoke kindly to her. She continued +motionless for a considerable time. At last he felt a sort of +palpitating movement in her, which began very softly, and then by +degrees, with increasing violence, diffused itself over all her frame. +"What ails thee, Mignon?" cried he; "what ails thee?" She raised her +little head, looked at him, and all at once laid her hand upon her +heart, with the countenance of one repressing the utterance of pain. He +raised her up, and she fell upon his breast; he pressed her towards him, +and kissed her. She replied not by any pressure of the hand, by any +motion whatever. She held firmly against her heart; and all at once gave +a cry, which was accompanied by spasmodic movements of the body. She +started up, and immediately fell down before him, as if broken in every +joint. It was an excruciating moment! "My child!" cried he, raising her +up and clasping her fast,--"my child, what ails thee?" The palpitations +continued, spreading from the heart over all the lax and powerless +limbs; she was merely hanging in his arms. All at once she again became +quite stiff, like one enduring the sharpest corporeal agony; and soon +with a new vehemence all her frame once more became alive, and she threw +herself about his neck, like a bent spring that is closing; while in her +soul, as it were, a strong rent took place, and at the same moment a +stream of tears flowed from her shut eyes into his bosom. He held her +fast. She wept, and no tongue can express the force of these tears. Her +long hair had loosened, and was hanging down before her; it seemed as if +her whole being was melting incessantly into a brook of tears. Her rigid +limbs were again become relaxed; her inmost soul was pouring itself +forth; in the wild confusion of the moment, Wilhelm was afraid she would +dissolve in his arms, and leave nothing there for him to grasp. He held +her faster and faster. "My child!" cried he, "my child! thou art indeed +mine, if that word can comfort thee. Thou art mine! I will keep thee, +I will never forsake thee!" Her tears continued flowing. At last she +raised herself; a faint gladness shone upon her face. "My father!" +cried she, "thou wilt not forsake me? Wilt be my father? I am thy +child!" + +Softly, at this moment, the harp began to sound before the door; the old +man brought his most affecting songs as an evening offering to our +friend, who, holding his child ever faster in his arms, enjoyed the most +pure and undescribable felicity. + + * * * * * + + Know'st thou the land where citron-apples bloom, + And oranges like gold in leafy gloom, + A gentle wind from deep-blue heaven blows, + The myrtle thick, and high the laurel grows? + Know'st thou it then? + 'Tis there! Tis there, + O my true loved one, thou with me must go! + + Know'st thou the house, its porch with pillars tall? + The rooms do glitter, glitters bright the hall, + And marble statues stand, and look each one: + What's this, poor child, to thee they've done? + Know'st thou it then? + 'Tis there! 'Tis there, + O my protector, thou with me must go! + + "Know'st thou the hill, the bridge that hangs on cloud? + The mules in mist grope o'er the torrent loud, + In caves lie coiled the dragon's ancient brood, + The crag leaps down, and over it the flood: + Know'st thou it then? + 'Tis there! 'Tis there + Our way runs: O my father, wilt thou go?" + +Next morning, on looking for Mignon about the house, Wilhelm did not +find her, but was informed that she had gone out early with Melina, who +had risen betimes to receive the wardrobe and other apparatus of his +theatre. + +After the space of some hours, Wilhelm heard the sound of music before +his door. At first he thought it was the harper come again to visit him; +but he soon distinguished the tones of a cithern, and the voice which +began to sing was Mignon's. Wilhelm opened the door; the child came in, +and sang him the song we have just given above. + +The music and general expression of it pleased our friend extremely, +though he could not understand all the words. He made her once more +repeat the stanzas, and explain them; he wrote them down, and translated +them into his native language. But the originality of its turns he could +imitate only from afar: its childlike innocence of expression vanished +from it in the process of reducing its broken phraseology to uniformity, +and combining its disjointed parts. The charm of the tune, moreover, was +entirely incomparable. + +She began every verse in a stately and solemn manner, as if she wished +to draw attention towards something wonderful, as if she had something +weighty to communicate. In the third line, her tones became deeper and +gloomier; the "Know'st thou it then?" was uttered with a show of mystery +and eager circumspectness; in the "'Tis there! 'Tis there!" lay a +boundless longing; and her "With me must go!" she modified at each +repetition, so that now it appeared to entreat and implore, now to impel +and persuade. + +On finishing her song for the second time, she stood silent for a +moment, looked keenly at Wilhelm, and asked him, "_Know'st_ thou the +land?" "It must mean Italy," said Wilhelm: "where didst thou get the +little song?" "Italy!" said Mignon, with an earnest air. "If thou go to +Italy, take me along with thee; for I am too cold here." "Hast thou been +there already, little dear?" said Wilhelm. But the child was silent, and +nothing more could be got out of her. + + + +WILHELM MEISTER'S INTRODUCTION TO SHAKESPEARE + +From 'Wilhelm Meister's Apprenticeship.' Carlyle's Translation + + +"Have you never," said Jarno, taking him aside, "read one of +Shakespeare's plays?" + +"No," replied Wilhelm: "since the time when they became more known in +Germany, I have myself grown unacquainted with the theatre; and I know +not whether I should now rejoice that an old taste and occupation of my +youth, has been by chance renewed. In the mean time, all that I have +heard of these plays has excited little wish to become acquainted with +such extraordinary monsters, which appear to set probability and dignity +alike at defiance." + +"I would advise you," said the other, "to make a trial, notwithstanding: +it can do one no harm to look at what is extraordinary with one's own +eyes. I will lend you a volume or two; and you cannot better spend your +time than by casting everything aside, and retiring to the solitude of +your old habitation, to look into the magic lantern of that unknown +world. It is sinful of you to waste your hours in dressing out these +apes to look more human, and teaching dogs to dance. One thing only I +require,--you must not cavil at the form; the rest I can leave to your +own good sense and feeling." + +The horses were standing at the door; and Jarno mounted with some other +cavaliers, to go and hunt. Wilhelm looked after him with sadness. He +would fain have spoken much with this man who though in a harsh, +unfriendly way, gave him new ideas,--ideas that he had need of. + +Oftentimes a man, when approaching some development of his powers, +capacities, and conceptions, gets into a perplexity from which a prudent +friend might easily deliver him. He resembles a traveler, who, at but a +short distance from the inn he is to rest at, falls into the water: were +any one to catch him then and pull him to the bank, with one good +wetting it were over; whereas, though he struggles out himself, it is +often at the side where he tumbled in, and he has to make a wide and +weary circuit before reaching his appointed object. + +Wilhelm now began to have an inkling that things went forward in the +world differently from what he had supposed. He now viewed close at hand +the solemn and imposing life of the great and distinguished, and +wondered at the easy dignity which they contrived to give it. An army on +its march, a princely hero at the head of it, such a multitude of +co-operating warriors, such a multitude of crowding worshipers, exalted +his imagination. In this mood he received the promised books; and ere +long, as may be easily supposed, the stream of that mighty genius laid +hold of him and led him down to a shoreless ocean, where he soon +completely forgot and lost himself.... + +Wilhelm had scarcely read one or two of Shakespeare's plays, till their +effect on him became so strong that he could go no further. His whole +soul was in commotion. He sought an opportunity to speak with Jarno; to +whom, on meeting with him, he expressed his boundless gratitude for such +delicious entertainment. + +"I clearly enough foresaw," said Jarno, "that you would not remain +insensible to the charms of the most extraordinary and most admirable of +all writers." + +"Yes!" exclaimed our friend: "I cannot recollect that any book, any man, +any incident of my life, has produced such important effects on me, as +the precious works to which by your kindness I have been directed. They +seem as if they were performances of some celestial genius descending +among men, to make them by the mildest instructions acquainted with +themselves. They are no fictions! You would think, while reading them, +you stood before the inclosed awful Books of Fate, while the whirlwind +of most impassioned life was howling through the leaves, and tossing +them fiercely to and fro. The strength and tenderness, the power and +peacefulness of this man, have so astonished and transported me, that I +long vehemently for the time when I shall have it in my power to read +further." + +"Bravo!" said Jarno, holding out his hand, and squeezing our friend's. +"This is as it should be! And the consequences which I hope for will +likewise surely follow." + +"I wish," said Wilhelm, "I could but disclose to you all that is going +on within me even now. All the anticipations I have ever had regarding +man and his destiny, which have accompanied me from youth upwards often +unobserved by myself, I find developed and fulfilled in Shakespeare's +writings. It seems as if he cleared up every one of our enigmas to us, +though we cannot say, Here or there is the word of solution. His men +appear like natural men, and yet they are not. These, the most +mysterious and complex productions of creation, here act before us as if +they were watches, whose dial-plates and cases were of crystal, which +pointed out according to their use the course of the hours and minutes; +while at the same time you could discern the combination of wheels and +springs that turn them. The few glances I have cast over Shakespeare's +world incite me, more than anything beside, to quicken my footsteps +forward into the actual world, to mingle in the flood of destinies that +is suspended over it; and at length, if I shall prosper, to draw a few +cups from the great ocean of true nature, and to distribute them from +off the stage among the thirsting people of my native land." + + + +WILHELM MEISTER'S ANALYSIS OF HAMLET + +From 'Wilhelm Meister's Apprenticeship' + + +Seeing the company so favorably disposed, Wilhelm now hoped he might +further have it in his power to converse with them on the poetic merit +of the pieces which might come before them. "It is not enough," said he +next day, when they were all again assembled, "for the actor merely to +glance over a dramatic work, to judge of it by his first impression, and +thus without investigation to declare his satisfaction or +dissatisfaction with it. Such things may be allowed in a spectator, +whose purpose it is rather to be entertained and moved than formally to +criticize. But the actor, on the other hand, should be prepared to give +a reason for his praise or censure: and how shall he do this if he have +not taught himself to penetrate the sense, the views, and feelings of +his author? A common error is, to form a judgment of a drama from a +single part in it; and to look upon this part itself in an isolated +point of view, not in its connection with the whole. I have noticed this +within a few days so clearly in my own conduct, that I will give you the +account as an example, if you please to hear me patiently. + +"You all know Shakespeare's incomparable 'Hamlet': our public reading of +it at the Castle yielded every one of us the greatest satisfaction. On +that occasion we proposed to act the piece; and I, not knowing what I +undertook, engaged to play the Prince's part. This I conceived that I +was studying, while I began to get by heart the strongest passages, the +soliloquies, and those scenes in which force of soul, vehemence, and +elevation of feeling have the freest scope; where the agitated heart is +allowed to display itself with touching expressiveness. + +"I further conceived that I was penetrating quite into the spirit of the +character, while I endeavored as it were to take upon myself the load of +deep melancholy under which my prototype was laboring, and in this humor +to pursue him through the strange labyrinths of his caprices and his +singularities. Thus learning, thus practicing, I doubted not but I +should by-and-by become one person with my hero. + +"But the farther I advanced, the more difficult did it become for me to +form any image of the whole, in its general bearings; till at last it +seemed as if impossible. I next went through the entire piece, without +interruption; but here too I found much that I could not away with. At +one time the characters, at another time the manner of displaying them, +seemed inconsistent; and I almost despaired of finding any general tint, +in which I might present my whole part with all its shadings and +variations. In such devious paths I toiled, and wandered long in vain; +till at length a hope arose that I might reach my aim in quite a new +way. + +"I set about investigating every trace of Hamlet's character, as it had +shown itself before his father's death: I endeavored to distinguish what +in it was independent of this mournful event; independent of the +terrible events that followed; and what most probably the young man +would have been, had no such thing occurred. + +"Soft, and from a noble stem, this royal flower had sprung up under the +immediate influences of majesty; the idea of moral rectitude with that +of princely elevation, the feeling of the good and dignified with the +consciousness of high birth, had in him been unfolded simultaneously. He +was a prince, by birth a prince; and he wished to reign, only that good +men might be good without obstruction. Pleasing in form, polished by +nature, courteous from the heart, he was meant to be the pattern of +youth and the joy of the world. + +"Without any prominent passion, his love for Ophelia was a still +presentiment of sweet wants. His zeal in knightly accomplishments was +not entirely his own; it needed to be quickened and inflamed by praise +bestowed on others for excelling in them. Pure in sentiment, he knew the +honorable-minded, and could prize the rest which an upright spirit +tastes on the bosom of a friend. To a certain degree, he had learned to +discern and value the good and the beautiful in arts and sciences; the +mean, the vulgar was offensive to him: and if hatred could take root in +his tender soul, it was only so far as to make him properly despise the +false and changeful insects of a court, and play with them in easy +scorn. He was calm in his temper, artless in his conduct, neither +pleased with idleness nor too violently eager for employment. The +routine of a university he seemed to continue when at court. He +possessed more mirth of humor than of heart; he was a good companion, +pliant, courteous, discreet, and able to forget and forgive an injury, +yet never able to unite himself with those who overstept the limits of +the right, the good, and the becoming. + +"When we read the piece again, you shall judge whether I am yet on the +proper track. I hope at least to bring forward passages that shall +support my opinion in its main points." + +This delineation was received with warm approval; the company imagined +they foresaw that Hamlet's manner of proceeding might now be very +satisfactorily explained; they applauded this method of penetrating into +the spirit of a writer. Each of them proposed to himself to take up some +piece, and study it on these principles, and so unfold the author's +meaning .... + +Loving Shakespeare as our friend did, he failed not to lead round the +conversation to the merits of that dramatist. Expressing, as he +entertained, the liveliest hopes of the new epoch which these exquisite +productions must form in Germany, he ere long introduced his 'Hamlet,' +who had busied him so much of late. + +Serlo declared that he would long ago have played the piece, had this +been possible, and that he himself would willingly engage to act +Polonius. He added with a smile, "An Ophelia too will certainly turn up, +if we had but a Prince." + +Wilhelm did not notice that Aurelia seemed a little hurt at her +brother's sarcasm. Our friend was in his proper vein, becoming copious +and didactic, expounding how he would have 'Hamlet' played. He +circumstantially delivered to his hearers the opinions we before saw him +busied with; taking all the trouble possible to make his notion of the +matter acceptable, skeptical as Serlo showed himself regarding it. "Well +then," said the latter finally, "suppose we grant you all this, what +will you explain by it?" + +"Much, everything," said Wilhelm. "Conceive a prince such as I have +painted him, and that his father suddenly dies. Ambition and the love of +rule are not the passions that inspire him. As a king's son, he would +have been contented; but now he is first constrained to consider the +difference which separates a sovereign from a subject. The crown was not +hereditary; yet a longer possession of it by his father would have +strengthened the pretensions of an only son, and secured his hopes of +the succession. In place of this, he now beholds himself excluded by his +uncle, in spite of specious promises, most probably forever. He is now +poor in goods and favor, and a stranger in the scene which from youth he +had looked upon as his inheritance. His temper here assumes its first +mournful tinge. He feels that now he is not more, that he is less, than +a private nobleman; he offers himself as the servant of every one; he is +not courteous and condescending, he is needy and degraded. + +"His past condition he remembers as a vanished dream. It is in vain that +his uncle strives to cheer him, to present his situation in another +point of view. The feeling of his nothingness will not leave him. + +"The second stroke that came upon him wounded deeper, bowed still more. +It was the marriage of his mother. The faithful tender son had yet a +mother, when his father passed away. He hoped in the company of his +surviving, noble-minded parent, to reverence the heroic form of the +departed; but his mother too he loses, and it is something worse than +death that robs him of her. The trustful image which a good child loves +to form of its parents is gone. With the dead there is no help; on the +living no hold. She also is a woman, and her name is Frailty, like that +of all her sex. + +"Now first does he feel himself completely bent and orphaned; and no +happiness of life can repay what he has lost. Not reflective or +sorrowful by nature, reflection and sorrow have become for him a heavy +obligation. It is thus that we see him first enter on the scene. I do +not think that I have mixed aught foreign with the piece, or overcharged +a single feature of it." + +Serlo looked at his sister and said, "Did I give thee a false picture of +our friend? He begins well; he has still many things to tell us, many to +persuade us of." Wilhelm asseverated loudly that he meant not to +persuade but to convince; he begged for another moment's patience. + +"Figure to yourselves this youth," cried he, "this son of princes; +conceive him vividly, bring his state before your eyes, and then observe +him when he learns that his father's spirit walks; stand by him in the +terrors of the night, when the venerable ghost itself appears before +him. A horrid shudder passes over him; he speaks to the mysterious form; +he sees it beckon him; he follows it, and hears. The fearful accusation +of his uncle rings in his ears; the summons to revenge, and the piercing +oft-repeated prayer, Remember me! + +"And when the ghost has vanished, who is it that stands before us? A +young hero panting for vengeance? A prince by birth, rejoicing to be +called to punish the usurper of his crown? No! trouble and astonishment +take hold of the solitary young man; he grows bitter against smiling +villains, swears that he will not forget the spirit, and concludes with +the significant ejaculation:-- + + "'The time is out of joint: O cursed spite, + That ever I was born to set it right!' + +"In these words, I imagine, will be found the key to Hamlet's whole +procedure. To me it is clear that Shakespeare meant, in the present +case, to represent the effects of a great action laid upon a soul unfit +for the performance of it. In this view the whole piece seems to me to +be composed. There is an oak-tree planted in a costly jar, which should +have borne only pleasant flowers in its bosom; the roots expand, the jar +is shivered. + +"A lovely, pure, noble, and most moral nature, without the strength of +nerve which forms a hero, sinks beneath a burden which it cannot bear +and must not cast away. All duties are holy for him; the present is too +hard. Impossibilities have been required of him, not in themselves +impossibilities, but such for him. He winds, and turns, and torments +himself; he advances and recoils; is ever put in mind, ever puts himself +in mind; at last does all but lose his purpose from his thoughts; yet +still without recovering his peace of mind." + +Aurelia seemed to give but little heed to what was passing; at last she +conducted Wilhelm to another room, and going to the window, and looking +out at the starry sky she said to him, "You have still much to tell us +about Hamlet; I will not hurry you; my brother must hear it as well as +I; but let me beg to know your thoughts about Ophelia." + +"Of her there cannot much be said," he answered; "for a few master +strokes complete her character. The whole being of Ophelia floats in +sweet and ripe sensation. Kindness for the Prince, to whose hand she may +aspire, flows so spontaneously, her tender heart obeys its impulses so +unresistingly, that both father and brother are afraid; both give her +warning harshly and directly. Decorum, like the thin lawn upon her +bosom, cannot hide the soft, still movements of her heart; it on the +contrary betrays them. Her fancy is smit; her silent modesty breathes +amiable desire; and if the friendly goddess Opportunity should shake the +tree, its fruit would fall." + +"And then," said Aurelia, "when she beholds herself forsaken, cast away, +despised; when all is inverted in the soul of her crazed lover, and the +highest changes to the lowest, and instead of the sweet cup of love he +offers her the bitter cup of woe--" + +"Her heart breaks," cried Wilhelm; "the whole structure of her being is +loosened from its joinings; her father's death strikes fiercely against +it; and the fair edifice altogether crumbles into fragments...." + +Serlo, at this moment entering, inquired about his sister; and looking +in the book which our friend had hold of, cried, "So you are again at +'Hamlet'? Very good! Many doubts have arisen in me, which seem not a +little to impair the canonical aspect of the piece as you would have it +viewed. The English themselves have admitted that its chief interest +concludes with the third act; the last two lagging sorrily on, and +scarcely uniting with the rest: and certainly about the end it seems to +stand stock still." + +"It is very possible," said Wilhelm, "that some individuals of a nation +which has so many masterpieces to feel proud of, may be led by prejudice +and narrowness of mind to form false judgments; but this cannot hinder +us from looking with our own eyes, and doing justice where we see it +due. I am very far from censuring the plan of 'Hamlet': on the other +hand, I believe there never was a grander one invented; nay, it is not +invented, it is real." + +"How do you demonstrate that?" inquired Serlo. + +"I will not demonstrate anything," said Wilhelm; "I will merely show you +what my own conceptions of it are." + +Aurelia rose up from her cushion, leaned upon her hand, and looked at +Wilhelm; who, with the firmest assurance that he was in the right, went +on as follows:-- + +"It pleases us, it flatters us to see a hero acting on his own strength; +loving and hating as his heart directs him; undertaking and completing; +casting every obstacle aside; and at length attaining some great object +which he aimed at. Poets and historians would willingly persuade us that +so proud a lot may fall to man. In 'Hamlet' we are taught another +lesson: the hero is without a plan, but the piece is full of plan. Here +we have no villain punished on some self-conceived and rigidly +accomplished scheme of vengeance: a horrid deed occurs; it rolls itself +along with all its consequences, dragging guiltless persons also in its +course; the perpetrator seems as if he would evade the abyss which is +made ready for him, yet he plunges in, at the very point by which he +thinks he shall escape and happily complete his course. + +"For it is the property of crime to extend its mischief over innocence, +as it is of virtue to extend its blessings over many that deserve them +not; while frequently the author of the one or of the other is not +punished or rewarded at all. Here in this play of ours, how strange! The +Pit of Darkness sends its spirit and demands revenge; in vain! All +circumstances tend one way, and hurry to revenge; in vain! Neither +earthly nor infernal thing may bring about what is reserved for Fate +alone. The hour of judgment comes: the wicked falls with the good; one +race is mowed away, that another may spring up." + +After a pause, in which they looked at one another, Serlo said: "You pay +no great compliment to Providence, in thus exalting Shakespeare; and +besides, it appears to me that for the honor of your poet, as others for +the honor of Providence, you ascribe to him an object and a plan which +he himself had never thought of." + +"Let me also put a question," said Aurelia. "I have looked at Ophelia's +part again; I am contented with it, and conceive that under certain +circumstances I could play it. But tell me, should not the poet have +furnished the insane maiden with another sort of songs? Could not one +select some fragments out of melancholy ballads for this purpose? What +have double meanings and lascivious insipidities to do in the mouth of +such a noble-minded person?" + +"Dear friend," said Wilhelm, "even here I cannot yield you one iota. In +these singularities, in this apparent impropriety, a deep sense is hid. +Do we not understand from the very first what the mind of the good +soft-hearted girl was busied with? Silently she lived within herself, +yet she scarce concealed her wishes, her longing; the tones of desire +were in secret ringing through her soul; and how often may she have +attempted, like an unskillful nurse, to lull her senses to repose with +songs which only kept them more awake? But at last, when her +self-command is altogether gone, when the secrets of her heart are +hovering on her tongue, that tongue betrays her; and in the innocence of +insanity she solaces herself, unmindful of king or queen, with the echo +of her loose and well-beloved songs, 'Tomorrow is Saint Valentine's +Day,' and 'By Gis and by Saint Charity.' + +"I am much mistaken," cried he, "if I have not now discovered how the +whole is to be managed; nay, I am convinced that Shakespeare himself +would have arranged it so, had not his mind been too exclusively +directed to the ruling interest, and perhaps misled by the novels which +furnished him with his materials." + +"Let us hear," said Serlo, placing himself with an air of solemnity upon +the sofa; "I will listen calmly, but judge with rigor." + +"I am not afraid of you," said Wilhelm; "only hear me. In the +composition of this play, after the most accurate investigation and the +most mature reflection, I distinguish two classes of objects. The first +are the grand internal relations of the persons and events, the powerful +effects which arise from the characters and proceedings of the main +figures: these, I hold, are individually excellent, and the order in +which they are presented cannot be improved. No kind of interference +must be suffered to destroy them, or even essentially to change their +form. These are the things which stamp themselves deep into the soul; +which all men long to see, which no one dares to meddle with. +Accordingly, I understand, they have almost wholly been retained in all +our German theatres. + +"But our countrymen have erred, in my opinion, with regard to the second +class of objects which may be observed in this tragedy: I allude to the +external relations of the persons, whereby they are brought from place +to place, or combined in various ways by certain accidental incidents. +These they have looked upon as very unimportant; have spoken of them +only in passing, or left them out altogether. Now indeed it must be +owned that these threads are slack and slender; yet they run through the +entire piece, and bind together much that would otherwise fall asunder, +and does actually fall asunder when you cut them off, and imagine you +have done enough and more if you have left the ends hanging. + +"Among these external relations I include the disturbances in Norway, +the war with young Fortinbras, the embassy to his uncle, the settling of +that feud, the march of young Fortinbras to Poland, and his coming back +at the end; of the same sort are Horatio's return from Wittenberg, +Hamlet's wish to go thither, the journey of Laertes to France, his +return, the dispatch of Hamlet into England, his capture by pirates, the +death of the two courtiers by the letter which they carried. All these +circumstances and events would be very fit for expanding and lengthening +a novel; but here they injure exceedingly the unity of the +piece,--particularly as the hero had no plan,--and are in consequence +entirely out of place." + +"For once in the right!" cried Serlo. + +"Do not interrupt me," answered Wilhelm; "perhaps you will not always +think me right. These errors are like temporary props of an edifice; +they must not be removed till we have built a firm wall in their stead. +My project therefore is, not at all to change those first-mentioned +grand situations, or at least as much as possible to spare them, both +collectively and individually; but with respect to these external, +single, dissipated, and dissipating motives, to cast them all at once +away, and substitute a solitary one instead of them." + +"And this?" inquired Serlo, springing up from his recumbent posture. + +"It lies in the piece itself," answered Wilhelm, "only I employ it +rightly. There are disturbances in Norway. You shall hear my plan and +try it. + +"After the death of Hamlet the father, the Norwegians, lately conquered, +grow unruly. The viceroy of that country sends his son Horatio, an old +school friend of Hamlet's, and distinguished above every other for his +bravery and prudence, to Denmark, to press forward the equipment of the +fleet, which under the new luxurious King proceeds but slowly. Horatio +has known the former King, having fought in his battles, having even +stood in favor with him; a circumstance by which the first ghost scene +will be nothing injured. The new sovereign gives Horatio audience, and +sends Laertes into Norway with intelligence that the fleet will soon +arrive, whilst Horatio is commissioned to accelerate the preparation of +it; and the Queen, on the other hand, will not consent that Hamlet, as +he wishes, should go to sea along with him." + +"Heaven be praised!" cried Serlo; "we shall now get rid of Wittenberg +and the university, which was always a sorry piece of business. I think +your idea extremely good: for except these two distant objects, Norway +and the fleet, the spectator will not be required to _fancy_ anything: +the rest he will _see_; the rest takes place before him; whereas his +imagination, on the other plan, was hunted over all the world." + +"You easily perceive," said Wilhelm, "how I shall contrive to keep the +other parts together. When Hamlet tells Horatio of his uncle's crime, +Horatio counsels him to go to Norway in his company, to secure the +affections of the army, and return in war-like force. Hamlet also is +becoming dangerous to the King and Queen; they find no readier method of +deliverance than to send him in the fleet, with Rosencrantz and +Guildenstern to be spies upon him: and as Laertes in the mean time comes +from France, they determine that this youth, exasperated even to murder, +shall go after him. Unfavorable winds detain the fleet; Hamlet returns: +for his wandering through the church-yard perhaps some lucky motive may +be thought of; his meeting with Laertes in Ophelia's grave is a grand +moment, which we must not part with. After this, the King resolves that +it is better to get quit of Hamlet on the spot: the festival of his +departure, the pretended reconcilement with Laertes, are now solemnized; +on which occasion knightly sports are held, and Laertes fights with +Hamlet. Without the four corpses I cannot end the piece; not one of them +can possibly be left. The right of popular election now again comes in +force, and Hamlet gives his dying voice for Horatio." + +"Quick! quick!" said Serlo; "sit down and work the piece; your plan has +my entire approbation; only do not let your zeal for it evaporate." ... + +Wilhelm had already been for some time busied with translating Hamlet; +making use, as he labored, of Wieland's spirited performance, by means +of which he had first become acquainted with Shakespeare. What in +Wieland's work had been omitted he replaced; and he had at length +procured himself a complete version, at the very time when Serlo and he +finally agreed about the way of treating it. He now began, according to +his plan, to cut out and insert, to separate and unite, to alter and +often to restore; for satisfied as he was with his own conception, it +still appeared to him as if in executing it he were but spoiling the +original. + +So soon as all was finished, he read his work to Serlo and the rest. +They declared themselves exceedingly contented with it; Serlo in +particular made many flattering observations. + +"You have felt very justly," said he, among other things, "that some +external circumstances must accompany this piece; but that they must be +simpler than those which the great poet has employed. What takes place +without the theatre--what the spectator does not see, but must imagine +for himself--is like a background, in front of which the acting figures +move. Your large and simple prospect of the fleet and Norway will very +much improve the piece; if this were altogether taken from it, we should +have but a family scene remaining; and the great idea, that here a +kingly house by internal crimes and incongruities goes down to ruin, +would not be presented with its proper dignity. But if the former +background were left standing, so manifold, so fluctuating and confused, +it would hurt the impression of the figures." + +Wilhelm again took Shakespeare's part: alleging that he wrote for +islanders, for Englishmen, who generally, in the distance, were +accustomed to see little else than ships and voyages, the coast of +France and privateers; and thus what perplexed and distracted others was +to them quite natural. + +Serlo assented; and both of them were of opinion that as the piece was +now to be produced upon the German stage, this more serious and simple +background was the best adapted for the German mind. + +The parts had been distributed before: Serlo undertook Polonius; Aurelia +undertook Ophelia; Laertes was already designated by his name; a young, +thick-set, jolly new-comer was to be Horatio; the King and the Ghost +alone occasioned some perplexity. For both of these was no one but Old +Boisterous remaining. Serlo proposed to make the Pedant King; but +against this our friend protested in the strongest terms. They could +resolve on nothing. + +Wilhelm also had allowed both Rosencrantz and Guildenstern to continue +in his piece. "Why not compress them into one?" said Serlo. "This +abbreviation will not cost you much." + +"Heaven keep me from such curtailments!" answered Wilhelm; "they destroy +at once the sense and the effect. What these two persons are and do it +is impossible to represent by one. In such small matters we discover +Shakespeare's greatness. These soft approaches, this smirking and +bowing, this assenting, wheedling, flattering, this whisking agility, +this wagging of the tail, this allness and emptiness, this legal +knavery, this ineptitude and insipidity,--how can they be expressed by a +single man? There ought to be at least a dozen of these people if they +could be had, for it is only in society that they are anything; they +are society itself; and Shakespeare showed no little wisdom and +discernment in bringing in a pair of them. Besides, I need them as a +couple that may be contrasted with the single, noble, excellent +Horatio." + + + +THE INDENTURE + +From 'Wilhelm Meister's Apprenticeship' + + +Art is long, life short, judgment difficult, opportunity transient. To +act is easy, to think is hard; to act according to our thought is +troublesome. Every beginning is cheerful; the threshold is the place of +expectation. The boy stands astonished, his impressions guide him; he +learns sportfully, seriousness comes on him by surprise. Imitation is +born with us; what should be imitated is not easy to discover. The +excellent is rarely found, more rarely valued. The height charms us, the +steps to it do not; with the summit in our eye, we love to walk along +the plain. It is but a part of art that can be taught; the artist needs +it all. Who knows it half, speaks much and is always wrong; who knows it +wholly, inclines to act and speaks seldom or late. The former have no +secrets and no force; the instruction they can give is like baked bread, +savory and satisfying for a single day; but flour cannot be sown, and +seed corn ought not to be ground. Words are good, but they are not the +best. The best is not to be explained by words. The spirit in which we +act is the highest matter. Action can be understood and again +represented by the spirit alone. No one knows what he is doing while he +acts aright; but of what is wrong we are always conscious. Whoever works +with symbols only is a pedant, a hypocrite, or a bungler. There are many +such, and they like to be together. Their babbling detains the scholar; +their obstinate mediocrity vexes even the best. The instruction which +the true artist gives us opens the mind; for where words fail him, deeds +speak. The true scholar learns from the known to unfold the unknown, and +approaches more and more to being a master. + + + +THE HARPER'S SONGS + +From 'Wilhelm Meister's Apprenticeship' + + + "What notes are those without the wall, + Across the portal sounding? + Let's have the music in our hall, + Back from its roof rebounding." + So spoke the king: the henchman flies; + His answer heard, the monarch cries, + "Bring in that ancient minstrel." + + "Hail, gracious king, each noble knight! + Each lovely dame, I greet you! + What glittering stars salute my sight! + What heart unmoved may meet you! + Such lordly pomp is not for me, + Far other scenes my eyes must see: + Yet deign to list my harping." + + The singer turns him to his art, + A thrilling strain he raises; + Each warrior hears with glowing heart + And on his loved one gazes. + The king, who liked his playing well, + Commands, for such a kindly spell, + A golden chain be given him. + + "The golden chain give not to me: + Thy boldest knight may wear it, + Who 'cross the battle's purple sea + On lion breast may bear it; + Or let it be thy chancellor's prize, + Amid his heaps to feast his eyes,-- + Its yellow glance will please him. + + "I sing but as the linnet sings, + That on the green bough dwelleth; + A rich reward his music brings, + As from his throat it swelleth: + Yet might I ask, I'd ask of thine + One sparkling draught of purest wine + To drink it here before you." + + He viewed the wine, he quaffed it up: + "O draught of sweetest savor! + O happy house, where such a cup + Is thought a little favor! + If well you fare, remember me, + And thank kind Heaven, from envy free, + As now for this I thank you." + + * * * * * + + Who never ate his bread in sorrow, + Who never spent the darksome hours + Weeping and watching for the morrow,-- + He knows ye not, ye gloomy Powers. + + To earth, this weary earth, ye bring us, + To guilt ye let us heedless go, + Then leave repentance fierce to wring us; + A moment's guilt, an age of woe! + + + +MIGNON'S SONG + +From 'Wilhelm Meister's Apprenticeship' + + + Such let me seem, till such I be; + Take not my snow-white dress away! + Soon from this dusk of earth I flee, + Up to the glittering lands of day. + + There first a little space I rest, + Then wake so glad, to scenes so kind; + In earthly robes no longer drest, + This band, this girdle left behind. + + And those calm shining sons of morn, + They ask not who is maid or boy; + No robes, no garments there are worn, + Our body pure from sin's alloy. + + Through little life not much I toiled, + Yet anguish long this heart has wrung, + Untimely woe my blossoms spoiled: + Make me again forever young! + + + +PHILINA'S SONG + +From 'Wilhelm Meister's Apprenticeship' + + + Sing me not with such emotion + How the night so lonesome is; + Pretty maids, I've got a notion + It is the reverse of this. + + For as wife and man are plighted, + And the better half the wife, + So is night to day united,-- + Night's the better half of life. + + Can you joy in bustling daytime,-- + Day, when none can get his will? + It is good for work, for haytime; + For much other it is ill. + + But when in the nightly glooming, + Social lamp on table glows, + Face for faces dear illuming, + And such jest and joyance goes; + + When the fiery pert young fellow, + Wont by day to run or ride, + Whispering now some tale would tell O,-- + All so gentle by your side; + + When the nightingale to lovers + Lovingly her songlet sings, + Which for exiles and sad rovers + Like mere woe and wailing rings; + + With a heart how lightsome-feeling + Do ye count the kindly clock, + Which, twelve times deliberate pealing, + Tells you none to-night shall knock! + + Therefore, on all fit occasions, + Mark it, maidens, what I sing: + Every day its own vexations, + And the night its joys will bring. + + + +PROMETHEUS + + + Blacken thy heavens, Jove, + With thunder-clouds, + And exercise thee, like a boy + Who thistles crops, + With smiting oaks and mountain-tops: + Yet must leave me standing + My own firm earth; + Must leave my cottage, which thou didst not build, + And my warm hearth, + Whose cheerful glow + Thou enviest me. + + I know naught more pitiful + Under the sun, than you, gods! + Ye nourish scantily + With altar taxes + And with cold lip-service, + This your majesty;-- + Would perish, were not + Children and beggars + Credulous fools. + + When I was a child, + And knew not whence or whither, + I would turn my 'wildered eye + To the sun, as if up yonder were + An ear to hear to my complaining--A + heart, like mine, + On the oppressed to feel compassion. + + Who helped me + When I braved the Titans' insolence? + Who rescued me from death, + From slavery? + Hast thou not all thyself accomplished, + Holy-glowing heart? + And, glowing, young, and good, + Most ignorantly thanked + The slumberer above there? + + I honor thee! For what? + Hast thou the miseries lightened + Of the down-trodden? + Hast thou the tears ever banished + From the afflicted? + Have I not to manhood been molded + By omnipotent Time, + And by Fate everlasting, + My lords and thine? + + Dreamedst thou ever + I should grow weary of living, + And fly to the desert, + Since not all our + Pretty dream buds ripen? + + Here sit I, fashion men + In mine own image,-- + A race to be like me, + To weep and to suffer, + To be happy and enjoy themselves, + To be careless of _thee_ too, + As I! + + Translation of John S. Dwight. + + + +WANDERER'S NIGHT SONGS + + + Thou that from the heavens art, + Every pain and sorrow stillest, + And the doubly wretched heart + Doubly with refreshment fillest, + I am weary with contending! + Why this rapture and unrest? + Peace descending, + Come, ah come into my breast! + + O'er all the hill-tops + Is quiet now, + In all the tree-tops + Hearest thou + Hardly a breath; + The birds are asleep in the trees: + Wait; soon like these + Thou too shalt rest. + + Longfellow's Translation. Reprinted by permission of + Houghton, Mifflin & Co., publishers, Boston + + + +THE ELFIN-KING + + + Who rides so late through the midnight blast? + 'Tis a father spurs on with his child full fast; + He gathers the boy well into his arm, + He clasps him close and he keeps him warm. + + "My son, why thus to my arm dost cling?"-- + "Father, dost thou not see the elfin-king? + The elfin-king with his crown and train!"-- + "My son, 'tis a streak of the misty rain!" + + _"Come hither, thou darling, come, go with me! + Fine games I know that I'll play with thee; + Flowers many and bright do my kingdoms hold, + My mother has many a robe of gold."_ + + "O father, dear father, and dost thou not hear + What the elfin-king whispers so low in mine ear?"-- + "Calm, calm thee, my boy, it is only the breeze, + As it rustles the withered leaves under the trees." + + _"Wilt thou go, bonny boy, wilt thou go with me? + My daughters shall wait on thee daintily; + My daughters around thee in dance shall sweep, + And rock thee and kiss thee and sing thee to sleep."_ + + "O father, dear father, and dost thou not mark + The elf-king's daughters move by in the dark?"-- + "I see it, my child; but it is not they, + 'Tis the old willow nodding its head so gray." + + _"I love thee! thy beauty it charms me so; + And I'll take thee by force, if thou wilt not go!"_ + "O father, dear father, he's grasping me,-- + My heart is as cold as cold can be!" + + The father rides swiftly,--with terror he gasps,-- + The sobbing child in his arms he clasps; + He reaches the castle with spurring and dread; + But alack! in his arms the child lay dead! + + Translation of Martin and Aytoun. + + + +FROM 'THE WANDERER'S STORM SONG' + + + Whom thou desertest not, O Genius, + Neither blinding rain nor storm + Breathes upon his heart a chill. + Whom thou desertest not, O Genius, + To the lowering clouds, + To the beating hail, + He will sing cheerly, + As the lark there, + Thou that soarest. + + Whom thou desertest not, O Genius, + Him thou'lt lift o'er miry places + On thy flaming pinions: + He will traverse + As on feet of flowers + Slime of Deucalion's deluge; + Slaying Python, strong, great, + Pythius Apollo! + + Whom thou desertest not, O Genius, + Thou wilt spread thy downy wings beneath him, + When he sleeps upon the crags; + Thou wilt cover him with guardian pinions + In the midnight forest depths. + + Whom thou desertest not, O Genius, + Thou wilt in whirling snow-storm + Warmly wrap him round; + To the warmth fly the Muses, + To the warmth fly the Graces. + + Around me float, ye Muses, + And float, ye Graces! + This is water, this is earth + And the son of water and of earth, + Over whom I wander + Like the gods. + + You are pure like the heart of water, + You are pure like the core of earth; + You float around me, and I float + Over water, over earth, + Like the gods. + + Translation of Charles Harvey Genung. + + + +THE GODLIKE + + + Noble be Man, + Helpful and good! + For that alone + Doth distinguish him + From all the beings + Which we know. + + Hail to the Unknown, the + Higher Beings + Felt within us! + His pattern teach us + Faith in them! + + For unfeeling + Is Nature: + Still shineth the sun + Over good and evil: + And to the sinner + Smile, as to the best, + The moon and the stars. + + Wind and waters, + Thunder and hailstones, + Rustle on their way, + Smiting down as + They dash along, + One for another. + + Just so does Fate + Grope round in the crowd, + Seize now the innocent, + Curly-haired boy, + Now on the old, bald + Crown of the villain. + + By great adamantine + Laws everlasting, + Here we must all our + Round of existence + Faithfully finish. + + There can none but Man + Perform the Impossible. + He understandeth, + Chooseth, and judgeth; + He can impart to the + Moment duration. + + He alone may + The Good reward, + The Guilty punish, + Mend and deliver; + All the wayward, anomalous + Bind in the Useful. + + And the Immortals-- + Them we reverence, + As if they were men, and + Did, on a grand scale, + What the best man in little + Does, or fain would do. + + Let noble Man + Be helpful and good! + Ever creating + The Right and the Useful-- + Type of those loftier + Beings of whom the heart whispers! + + Translation of John S. Dwight. + + + +SOLITUDE + + + O ye kindly nymphs, who dwell 'mongst the rocks and the thickets, + Grant unto each whatsoever he may in silence desire! + Comfort impart to the mourner, and give to the doubter instruction, + And let the lover rejoice, finding the bliss that he craves. + For from the gods ye received what they ever denied unto mortals, + Power to comfort and aid all who in you may confide. + + Translation of E. A. Bowring. + + + +ERGO BIBAMUS! + + + For a praiseworthy object we're now gathered here, + So, brethren, sing Ergo bibamus! + Though talk may be hushed, yet the glasses ring clear: + Remember then, Ergo bibamus! + In truth 'tis an old, 'tis an excellent word; + With its sound so befitting each bosom is stirred, + And an echo the festal hall filling is heard, + A glorious Ergo bibamus! + + I saw mine own love in her beauty so rare, + And bethought me of Ergo bibamus; + So I gently approached, and she let me stand there, + While I helped myself, thinking, Bibamus! + And when she's appeared, and will clasp you and kiss, + Or when those embraces and kisses ye miss, + Take refuge, till found is some worthier bliss, + In the comforting Ergo bibamus! + + I am called by my fate far away from each friend; + Ye loved ones, then, Ergo bibamus! + With wallet light-laden from hence I must wend, + So double our Ergo bibamus! + Whatever to his treasure the niggard may add, + Yet regard for the joyous will ever be had, + For gladness lends ever its charms to the glad, + So, brethren, sing: Ergo bibamus! + + And what shall we say of to-day as it flies? + I thought but of Ergo bibamus! + 'Tis one of those truly that seldom arise, + So again and again sing Bibamus! + For joy through a wide-open portal it guides, + Bright glitter the clouds as the curtain divides, + And a form, a divine one, to greet us in glides, + While we thunder our Ergo bibamus. + + Translation of E. A. Bowring. + + + +ALEXIS AND DORA + + + Farther and farther away, alas! at each moment the vessel + Hastens, as onward it glides, cleaving the foam-covered flood! + Long is the track plowed up by the keel where dolphins are sporting, + Following fast in its rear, while it seems flying pursuit. + All forebodes a prosperous voyage; the sailor with calmness + Leans 'gainst the sail, which alone all that is needed performs. + Forward presses the heart of each seaman, like colors and streamers; + Backward one only is seen, mournfully fixed near the mast, + While on the blue-tinged mountains, which fast are receding, he + gazeth, + And as they sink in the sea, joy from his bosom departs. + Vanished from thee, too, O Dora, is now the vessel that robs thee + Of thine Alexis, thy friend,--ah, thy betrothed as well! + Thou, too, art after me gazing in vain. Our hearts are still + throbbing, + Though for each other, yet ah! 'gainst one another no more. + O thou single moment, wherein I found life! thou outweighest + Every day which had else coldly from memory fled. + 'Twas in that moment alone, the last, that upon me descended + Life such as deities grant, though thou perceivedst it not. + Phoebus, in vain with thy rays dost thou clothe the ether in glory: + Thine all-brightening day hateful alone is to me. + Into myself I retreat for shelter, and there in the silence + Strive to recover the time when she appeared with each day. + Was it possible beauty like this to see, and not feel it? + Worked not those heavenly charms e'en on a mind dull as thine? + Blame not thyself, unhappy one! Oft doth the bard an enigma + Thus propose to the throng, skillfully hidden in words; + Each one enjoys the strange commingling of images graceful, + Yet still is wanting the word which will discover the sense. + When at length it is found, the heart of each hearer is gladdened, + And in the poem he sees meaning of twofold delight. + Wherefore so late didst thou remove the bandage, O Amor, + Which thou hadst placed o'er mine eyes,--wherefore remove it so + late? + Long did the vessel, when laden, lie waiting for favoring breezes, + Till in kindness the wind blew from the land o'er the sea. + Vacant times of youth! and vacant dreams of the future! + Ye all vanish, and naught, saving the moment, remains. + Yes! it remains,--my joy still remains! I hold thee, my Dora, + And thine image alone, Dora, by hope is disclosed. + Oft have I seen thee go, with modesty clad, to the temple, + While thy mother so dear solemnly went by thy side. + Eager and nimble thou wert, in bearing thy fruit to the market, + Boldly the pail from the well didst thou sustain on thy head. + Then was revealed thy neck, then seen thy shoulders so beauteous, + Then, before all things, the grace filling thy motions was seen. + Oft have I feared that the pitcher perchance was in danger of falling, + Yet it ever remained firm on the circular cloth. + Thus, fair neighbor, yes, thus I oft was wont to observe thee, + As on the stars I might gaze, as I might gaze on the moon; + Glad indeed at the sight, yet feeling within my calm bosom + Not the remotest desire ever to call them mine own. + + Years thus fleeted away! Although our houses were only + Twenty paces apart, yet I thy threshold ne'er crossed. + Now by the fearful flood are we parted! Thou liest to Heaven, + Billow! thy beautiful blue seems to me dark as the night. + All were now in movement: a boy to the house of my father + Ran at full speed and exclaimed, "Hasten thee quick to the strand! + Hoisted the sail is already, e'en now in the wind it is fluttering, + While the anchor they weigh, heaving it up from the sand; + Come, Alexis, oh come!"--My worthy stout-hearted father + Pressed, with a blessing, his hand down on my curly-locked head, + While my mother carefully reached me a newly made bundle; + "Happy mayst thou return!" cried they--"both happy and rich!" + Then I sprang away, and under my arm held the bundle, + Running along by the wall. Standing I found thee hard by, + At the door of thy garden. Thou smilingly saidst then, "Alexis! + Say, are yon boisterous crew going thy comrades to be? + Foreign coasts wilt thou visit, and precious merchandise purchase, + Ornaments meet for the rich matrons who dwell in the town; + Bring me also, I pray thee, a light chain; gladly I'll pay thee, + Oft have I wished to possess some such a trinket as that." + There I remained, and asked, as merchants are wont, with precision + After the form and the weight which thy commission should have. + Modest indeed was the price thou didst name! I meanwhile was gazing + On thy neck, which deserved ornaments worn but by queens. + Loudly now rose the cry from the ship; then kindly thou spakest:-- + "Take, I entreat thee, some fruit out of the garden, my friend! + Take the ripest oranges, figs of the whitest; the ocean + Beareth no fruit, and in truth, 'tis not produced by each land." + So I entered in. Thou pluckedst the fruit from the branches, + And the burden of gold was in thine apron upheld. + Oft did I cry, Enough! But fairer fruits were still falling + Into thy hand as I spake, ever obeying thy touch. + Presently didst thou reach the arbor; there lay there a basket, + Sweet blooming myrtle-trees waved, as we drew nigh, o'er our heads. + Then thou began'st to arrange the fruit with skill and in silence: + First the orange, which heavy as though 'twere of gold, + Then the yielding fig, by the slightest pressure disfigured, + And with myrtle, the gift soon was both covered and graced. + But I raised it not up. I stood. Our eyes met together, + And my eyesight grew dim, seeming obscured by a film. + Soon I felt thy bosom on mine! Mine arm was soon twining + Round thy beautiful form; thousand times kissed I thy neck. + On my shoulder sank thy head; thy fair arms, encircling, + Soon rendered perfect the ring knitting a rapturous pair. + Amor's hands I felt; he pressed us together with ardor, + And from the firmament clear, thrice did it thunder; then tears + Streamed from mine eyes in torrents, thou weptest, I wept, both were + weeping, + And 'mid our sorrow and bliss, even the world seemed to die. + Louder and louder they called from the strand; my feet would no longer + Bear my weight, and I cried:--"Dora! and art thou not mine?" + "Thine forever!" thou gently didst say. Then the tears we were + shedding + Seemed to be wiped from our eyes, as by the breath of a god. + Nearer was heard the cry "Alexis!" The stripling who sought me + Suddenly peeped through the door. How he the basket snatched up! + How he urged me away! how pressed I thy hand! Dost thou ask me + How the vessel I reached? Drunken I seemed, well I know, + Drunken my shipmates believed me, and so had pity upon me; + And as the breeze drove us on, distance the town soon obscured. + "Thine forever!" thou, Dora, didst murmur; it fell on my senses + With the thunder of Zeus! while by the thunderer's throne + Stood his daughter, the goddess of Love; the Graces were standing + Close by her side! so the bond beareth an impress divine! + Oh then hasten, thou ship, with every favoring zephyr! + Onward, thou powerful keel, cleaving the waves as they foam! + Bring me unto the foreign harbor, so that the goldsmith + May in his workshop prepare straightway the heavenly pledge! + Ay, of a truth, the chain shall indeed be a chain, O my Dora! + Nine times encircling thy neck, loosely around it entwined. + Other and manifold trinkets I'll buy thee; gold-mounted bracelets, + Richly and skillfully wrought, also shall grace thy fair hand. + There shall the ruby and emerald vie, the sapphire so lovely + Be to the jacinth opposed, seeming its foil; while the gold + Holds all the jewels together, in beauteous union commingled. + Oh, how the bridegroom exults, when he adorns his betrothed! + Pearls if I see, of thee they remind me; each ring that is shown me + Brings to my mind thy fair hand's graceful and tapering form. + I will barter and buy; the fairest of all shalt thou choose thee; + Joyously would I devote all of the cargo to thee. + Yet not trinkets and jewels alone is thy loved one procuring; + With them he brings thee whate'er gives to a housewife delight: + Fine and woolen coverlets, wrought with an edging of purple, + Fit for a couch where we both, lovingly, gently may rest; + Costly pieces of linen. Thou sittest and sewest, and clothest + Me, and thyself, and perchance even a third with it too. + Visions of hope, deceive ye my heart! Ye kindly immortals, + Soften this fierce-raging flame, wildly pervading my breast! + Yet how I long to feel them again, those rapturous torments, + When in their stead, Care draws nigh, coldly and fearfully calm. + Neither the Furies' torch, nor the hounds of hell with their barking, + Awe the delinquent so much, down in the plains of despair, + As by the motionless spectre I'm awed, that shows me the fair one + Far away: of a truth, open the garden door stands! + And another one cometh! For him the fruit, too, is falling, + And for him also the fig strengthening honey doth yield! + Doth she entice him as well to the arbor? He follows? Oh, make me + Blind, ye Immortals! efface visions like this from my mind! + Yes, she is but a maiden! And she who to one doth so quickly + Yield, to another erelong, doubtless, will turn herself round. + Smile not, Zeus, for this once, at an oath so cruelly broken! + Thunder more fearfully! Strike!--Stay--thy fierce lightnings + withhold! + Hurl at me thy quivering bolt! In the darkness of midnight + Strike with thy lightning this mast, make it a pitiful wreck! + Scatter the planks all around, and give to the boisterous billows + All these wares, and let _me_ be to the dolphins a prey!-- + Now, ye Muses, enough! In vain would ye strive to depicture + How, in a love-laden breast, anguish alternates with bliss. + Ye cannot heal the wounds, it is true, that love hath inflicted; + Yet from you only proceeds, kindly ones, comfort and balm. + + Translation of E. A. Bowring. + + + +MAXIMS AND REFLECTIONS + +From 'Maxims and Reflections of Goethe.' + +Translation of Bailey Saunders. Copyright 1892, by Macmillan & Co. + + +It is not always needful for truth to take a definite shape: it is +enough if it hovers about us like a spirit and produces harmony; if it +is wafted through the air like the sound of a bell, grave and kindly. + + * * * * * + +I must hold it for the greatest calamity of our time, which lets nothing +come to maturity, that one moment is consumed by the next, and the day +spent in the day; so that a man is always living from hand to mouth, +without having anything to show for it. Have we not already newspapers +for every hour of the day? A good head could assuredly intercalate one +or other of them. They publish abroad everything that every one does, or +is busy with or meditating; nay, his very designs are thereby dragged +into publicity. No one can rejoice or be sorry, but as a pastime for +others; and so it goes on from house to house, from city to city, from +kingdom to kingdom, and at last from one hemisphere to the other,--all +in post-haste. + + * * * * * + +During a prolonged study of the lives of various men both great and +small, I came upon this thought: In the web of the world the one may +well be regarded as the warp, the other as the woof. It is the little +men, after all, who give breadth to the web, and the great men firmness +and solidity; perhaps also the addition of some sort of pattern. But the +scissors of the Fates determine its length, and to that all the rest +must join in submitting itself. + + * * * * * + +There is nothing more odious than the majority: it consists of a few +powerful men to lead the way; of accommodating rascals and submissive +weaklings; and of a mass of men who trot after them without in the least +knowing their own mind. + + * * * * * + +Translators are like busy match-makers: they sing the praises of some +half-veiled beauty, and extol her charms, and arouse an irresistible +longing for the original. + + + +NATURE + + +Nature! We are surrounded by her and locked in her clasp: powerless to +leave her, and powerless to come closer to her. Unasked and unwarned she +takes us up into the whirl of her dance, and hurries on with us till we +are weary and fall from her arms. + +There is constant life in her, motion and development; and yet she +remains where she was. She is eternally changing, nor for a moment does +she stand still. Of rest she knows nothing, and to all stagnation she +has affixed her curse. She is steadfast; her step is measured, her +exceptions rare, her laws immutable. + +She loves herself, and clings eternally to herself with eyes and hearts +innumerable. She has divided herself that she may be her own delight. +She is ever making new creatures spring up to delight in her, and +imparts herself insatiably. + +She rejoices in illusion. If a man destroys this in himself and others, +she punishes him like the hardest tyrant. If he follows her in +confidence, she presses him to her heart as it were her child. + +She spurts forth her creatures out of nothing, and tells them not whence +they come and whither they go. They have only to go their way: she knows +the path. + +Her crown is Love. Only through Love can we come near her. She puts +gulfs between all things, and all things strive to be interfused. She +isolates everything, that she may draw everything together. With a few +draughts from the cup of Love she repays for a life full of trouble. + +She is all things. She rewards herself and punishes herself, and in +herself rejoices and is distressed. She is rough and gentle, loving and +terrible, powerless and almighty. In her everything is always present. +Past or Future she knows not. The Present is her Eternity. She is kind. +I praise her with all her works. She is wise and still. No one can force +her to explain herself, or frighten her into a gift that she does not +give willingly. She is crafty, but for a good end; and it is best not to +notice her cunning. + + + + +NIKOLAI VASILIEVITCH GOGOL + +(1809-1852) + +BY ISABEL F. HAPGOOD + +[Illustration: NIKOLAI GOGOL] + + +Gogol has been called the "father of modern Russian realism," and he has +been credited with the creation of all the types which we meet in the +great novelists who followed him. This is in great measure true, +especially so far as the male characters are concerned. The germs at +least, if not the condensed characterization in full, are recognizable +in Gogol's famous novel 'Dead Souls,' his Little-Russian stories 'Tales +from a Farm-House near Dikanka' and 'Mirgorod,' and his comedy 'The +Inspector,' which still holds the stage. + +It was precisely because of his genius in seizing the national types +that the poet Pushkin, one of Gogol's earliest and warmest admirers, +gave to him the plans of 'Dead Souls' and 'The Inspector,' which he had +intended to make use of himself. That he became the "father of Russian +realism" was due not only to his own genius, but to the epoch in which +he lived, though he solved the problem for himself quite independently +of the Continental literatures which were undergoing the same process of +transformation from romanticism to realism. For, nearly a hundred years +before Gogol and his foreign contemporaries of the forties--the +pioneers, in their respective countries, of the new literature--won the +public, Europe had been living a sort of modern epic. In imitation of +the ancient epics, writers portrayed heroes of gigantic powers in every +direction, and set them in a framework of exceptional crises which +aroused their powerful emotions in the cause of right, or their +superhuman conflict with masterful persons or overwhelming woes. But the +daily experience of those who suffered from the manifold miseries of +battle and invasion in this modern epic epoch, made it impossible for +them to disregard longer the claim on their sympathies of the common +things and people of their world, though these can very easily be +ignored when one reads the ancient epics. Thus did realism have its dawn +in many lands when the era of peace gave men time to define their +position, and when pseudo-classicism had at last palled on their taste, +which had begun to recognize its coldness and inherent falsity. + +Naturally, in this new quest of Truth, romanticism and realism were +mingled at first. This was the case with Gogol-Yanovsky, to give him his +full name. But he soon struck out in the right path. He was born and +reared in Little Russia, at Sorotchinsky, government of Poltava. He was +separated by only two generations from the epoch of the Zaporozhian +Kazak army, whose life he has recorded in his famous historical novel +'Taras Bulba,' his grandfather having been regimental scribe of the +Kazaks, an office of honor. The spirit of the Zaporozhian Kazaks still +lingered over the land, which was overflowing with legends, and with +fervent, childlike piety of the superstitious order. At least one half +of the Little-Russian stories which made Gogol's fame he owes to his +grandfather, who appears as Rudiy Panko the Bee-Farmer, in the 'Tales +from a Farm-House near Dikanka.' His father, who represented the modern +spirit, was an inimitable narrator of comic stories, and the talents of +this father and grandfather rendered their house the social centre of a +very wide neighborhood. + +At school Gogol did not distinguish himself in his studies, but wrote a +great deal, all of an imitative character, and got up school plays in +emulation of those which he had seen at his own home. His lack of +scholarship made it impossible for him to pursue the learned career of +professor of history, on which he embarked after he had with labor +obtained, and shortly renounced, the career of copying-clerk in St. +Petersburg. His vast but dimly defined ambition to accomplish great +things for his fatherland in some mysterious way, and fame for himself, +equally suffered shipwreck to his mind; though if we consider the part +which the realistic literature he founded has played on the world's +stage, we may count his apparent defeat a solid victory. His brief +career as professor of history at the university was brought about by +his ambition, and through the influence of the literary men whose +friendship he had won by his first 'Little-Russian Tales.' They +recognized his genius, and at last he himself recognized that the new +style of writing which he had created was his vocation, and devoted +himself wholly to literature. At the close of 1831 the first volume of +'Tales from a Farm-House' appeared, and had an immense success. The +second volume, 'Mirgorod, followed, with equal success. It contained a +new element: the merriment of the first volume had been pure, unmixed; +in the second volume he had developed not only the realism but that +special trait of his genius, "laughter piercing through a mist of +tears," of which 'Old-Fashioned Gentry' and 'How the Two Ivans +Quarreled' offer celebrated examples. But success always flew to +Gogol's head: he immediately began to despise these products of his true +vocation, and to plan grandiose projects far beyond his powers of +education and entirely outside the range of his talent. Now, for +instance, he undertook a colossal work in nine volumes on the history of +the Middle Ages. Happily, he abandoned that, after his studies of +Little-Russian history incidental thereto had resulted in his epic of +the highest art, 'Taras Bulba.' + +The first outcome of his recognition that literary work was his moral +duty, not a mere pastime, was his great play 'The Inspector.' It was +produced in April, 1836. The authorities steadfastly opposed its +production; but the Emperor Nicholas I. heard of it, read it, ordered it +produced, and upheld Gogol in enthusiastic delight. Officials, +merchants, police, literary people, everybody, attacked the author. They +had laughed at his pathos; now they raged at his comedy, refused to +recognize their own portraits, and still tried to have the play +prohibited. Gogol's health and spirits were profoundly affected by this +unexpected enmity. He fled abroad, and returned to Russia thereafter +only at intervals for brief visits, and chiefly to Moscow, where most of +his faithful friends lived. He traveled much, but spent most of his time +in Rome, where his lavish charities kept him always poor, even after the +complete success of 'The Inspector' and of the first part of 'Dead +Souls' would have enabled him to exist in comfort. He was accustomed to +say that he could only see Russia clearly when he was far from her, and +in a measure he proved this by his inimitable first volume of 'Dead +Souls.' Herein he justified Pushkin's expectations in giving him that +subject which would enable him to paint, in types, the classes and +localities of his fatherland. But this long residence in Rome was fatal +to his mind and health, and eventually extinguished the last sparks of +genius. The Russian mind is peculiarly inclined to mysticism, and +Russian writers of eminence seem to be even more susceptible in that +direction than ordinary men. Of the noted writers in this century, +Pushkin and Lermontoff had leaned decidedly in that direction towards +the end of their careers, brief as their lives were. Gogol was their +intimate friend in Russia, and after he went abroad he was the intimate +friend of the aged poet Zhukovsky, who became a mystic in his declining +years. + +Even in his school days Gogol had shown, in his letters to his mother, a +marked tendency to religious exaltation. Now, under the combined +pressure of his personal inclinations, friendships, and the clerical +atmosphere of Rome, he developed into a mystic and ascetic of the most +pronounced type. In this frame of mind, he looked upon all his earlier +writings as sins which must be atoned for; and yet his immense +self-esteem was so flattered by the tremendous success of 'The +Inspector' and of the first part of 'Dead Souls,' that he began to +regard himself as a kind of divinely commissioned prophet, whose duty it +was to exhort his fellow-men. The extract from these hortatory letters +to his friends which he published convinced his countrymen that nothing +more was to be expected from him. The failure of this volume only helped +to plunge him into deeper depths of self-torture. In the few remaining +lucid moments of his genius he worked at the second part of 'Dead +Souls,' but destroyed what he had written in the moments of ecstatic +remorse which followed. Thus the greatest work of his mature genius +remains uncompleted. In 1848 he made a pilgrimage to Jerusalem, and +returned through Odessa to Moscow, where he lived until his death, +growing constantly more mystical, more ascetic. Sleepless nights spent +in prayer, fasting to the extent of trying to nourish himself (as it is +affirmed that practiced ascetics successfully can) for a week on one of +the tiny double loaves which are used in the Holy Communion, completed +the ravages of his long-endured maladies. + +It was for publishing in a Moscow paper an enthusiastic obituary of the +dead genius, which he had been forbidden to publish in St. Petersburg, +that Turgenieff was sent into residence on his estate, and enriched the +world with the first work of the rising genius, 'The Diary of a +Sportsman.' Acuteness of observation; natural, infectious, genuine +humor; vivid realism; and an inimitable power of depicting national +types, are Gogol's distinguishing characteristics: and these in varying +degrees are precisely the ingredients which have entered into the works +of his successors and rendered Russian literature famous as a school. + +In reviewing Gogol's work, we may set aside with but cursory mention his +youthful idyl, written while still in the gymnasium, published +anonymously and overwhelmed with ridicule, 'Hans Kuchel-garten'; his +'Arabesques,' which are useful chiefly as a contribution to the study of +the man and his opinions, not as permanent additions to literature; his +'Extracts from Correspondence with Friends,' which belong to the +sermonizing, clouded period of his life's close; and the divers +'Fragments,' both of prose and dramatic writing, all of which are +conscientiously included in the complete editions of his writings. + +The only complete play which he wrote except 'The Inspector' is the +comedy 'Marriage,' which is still acted, though very seldom. It is full +of naturalness and his own peculiar humor, but its subject does not +appeal to the universal public of all lands as nearly as does the plan +of 'The Inspector.' The plot, in brief, is founded on a young girl's +meditations on marriage, and her actions which lead up to and follow +those meditations. The Heroine, desirous of marrying, invokes the aid of +the Match-maker, the old-time matrimonial agent in the Russian merchant +and peasant classes by conventional etiquette. The Match-maker offers +for her consideration several suitable men, all strangers; the Heroine +makes her choice, and is very well content with her suitor. But she +begins to meditate on the future, becomes moved to tears by the thought +of her daughter's possible unhappiness in a hypothetical wretched +marriage in the dim future, and at last, unable to endure this painful +prospect, she evades her betrothed and breaks off the match. While the +characteristic and national touches are keen and true,--precursors of +the vein which Ostrovsky so happily developed later,--the play must +remain a matter of greater interest to Russians than to foreigners. + +The interest of 'The Inspector,' on the other hand, is universal: +official negligence and corruption, bribery, masculine boastfulness and +vanity, and feminine qualities to correspond, are the private +prerogatives of no one nation, of no one epoch. The comedy possesses all +the elements of social portraiture and satire without caricature: +concentration of time, place, action, language, and a tremendous +condensation of character traits which are not only truly, typically +national, but which come within the ken of all fair-minded persons in +other countries. + +The volume with which he scored his first success, and which must remain +a classic, is 'Evenings at a Farm-House near Dikanka.' As the second +volume, 'Mirgorod,' and his volume of 'St. Petersburg Tales,' all +combine essentially the same ingredients, though in varying measure, we +may consider them together. All the tales in the first two volumes are +from his beloved birthplace, Little Russia. Some of them are simply the +artistic and literary rendering of popular legends, whose counterparts +may be found in the folk literature of other lands. Such are the story +of the vampire, 'Vy,' 'St. John's Eve,' and the exquisite 'A May Night,' +where the famous poetical spirit of the Ukraina is displayed in its full +force and beauty. 'The Lost Document,' 'Sorotchinsky Fair,' 'The +Enchanted Spot,' and others of like legendary but more exclusively +national character, show the same fertility of wit and skill of +management, with close study of every-day customs, superstitions, and +life, which render them invaluable to both Russians and foreigners. + +More important than these, however, are such stories as 'Old-Fashioned +Gentry' (or 'Farmers'), where keen but kindly wit, more tempered than +the mirth of youthful high spirits which had imbued the fantastic tales, +is mingled with the purest, deepest pathos and minute delineation of +character and customs, in an inimitable work of the highest art. To this +category belong also 'How the Two Ivans Quarreled' (the full title, 'How +Ivan Ivan'itch and Ivan Nikifor'itch Quarreled,' is rather unwieldy for +the foreign ear), and 'The Cloak,' from the volume of 'St. Petersburg +Tales.' We may also count 'The Nevsky Prospekt' with these; while 'The +Portrait' is semi-fantastic, 'The Nose' and 'The Calash' are wholly so, +though not legendary, and 'The Diary of a Madman' is unexcelled as an +amusing but touching study of a diseased mind in the ranks of petty +officialdom. + +Gogol's capital work, however, is his 'Dead Souls.' In it he carried to +its highest point his talent for accurate delineation of his countrymen +and the conditions of their life. There is less pathos than in some of +his short tales; but all the other elements are perfected. Pushkin's +generosity and sound judgment were never better shown than in the gift +which he made to Gogol of the plan of this book. He could not have +executed it himself as well. The work must forever rank as a Russian +classic; it ought to rank as a universal classic. The types are as +fresh, true, and vivid to one who knows the Russia of to-day as they +were when they were first introduced to the enthusiastic public of 1842. + +In the pre-Emancipation days, a soul meant a male serf. The women were +not counted in the periodical revisions, though the working unit, a +_tyaglo_, consisted of a man, his wife, and his horse--the indispensable +trinity to agricultural labor. In the interval between the revisions, a +landed proprietor continued to pay for all the serfs accredited to him +on the official list, the births being reckoned for convenience as an +exact offset to the deaths. Another provision of the law was, that no +one should purchase serfs without the land to which they belonged, +except for the purpose of colonization. An ingenious fraud suggested by +a combination of these two laws forms the foundation of 'Dead Souls.' +The hero, Tchitchikoff, is an official who has struggled up ambitiously +and shrewdly, through numerous vicissitudes of bribe-taking, extortion, +and ensuing discomfiture, to a snug berth in the custom-house service, +from which he is ejected under circumstances which render further +flights difficult if not impossible. In this strait he hits upon the +idea of purchasing from landed proprietors of mediocre probity the souls +who are dead, though still nominally alive, and on whom they are forced +to pay taxes. Land is being given away gratuitously, in the southern +governments of Kherson and Tauris, to any one who will settle upon it, +as every one knows. His plan is to buy one thousand non-existent serfs +("dead souls"), at a maximum of one hundred rubles apiece, for +colonization on an equally non-existent estate in the south, and then, +by mortgaging them to the loan bank for the nobility known as the +Council of Guardians, obtain a capital of two hundred thousand rubles. +In pursuance of this clever scheme he sets out on his travels, visits +provincial towns and the estates of landed gentry of every shade of +character, dishonesty, and financial standing, where he either buys for +a song, or cajoles from them as a gift, large numbers of "dead souls." +It is unnecessary and impossible to do more than reinforce the hint +which this statement contains, by the assurance that Gogol used to the +uttermost the magnificent opportunity thus afforded him of showing up +Russian life and manners. Though the scene of Tchitchikoff's wanderings +does not include either capital, the life there does not escape the +author's notice in his asides and illustrative arguments. It may also be +said that while his talent lies pre-eminently in the delineation of men, +he does not fail in his portraits of women; though as a rule these are +more general--in the nature of a composite photograph--than particular. +The day for minute analysis of feminine character had not arrived, and +in all Gogol's works there is, properly speaking, no such thing as the +heroine playing a first-class role, whether of the antique or the modern +pattern. + +Gogol's great historical novel, 'Taras Bulba,' which deals with the +famous Kazak republic of the Dniepr Falls (Zaporozhya), stands equally +with his other volumes of the first rank in poetry, dramatic power, and +truth to life. It possesses also a force of tragedy and passion in love +which are altogether lacking, or but faintly indicated, in his other +masterpieces. + + [Signature: Isabel F. Hapgood] + + + +FROM 'THE INSPECTOR' + + + _Scene_: _A room in the house of the Chief of Police. + + _Present_: _Chief of Police, Curator of Benevolent Institutions, + Superintendent of Schools, Judge, Commissary of Police, Doctor, + two Policemen._ + +_Chief_--I have summoned you, gentlemen, in order to communicate to you an +unpleasant piece of news: an Inspector is coming. + +_Judge_--What! An Inspector? + +_Chief_--An Inspector from St. Petersburg, incognito. And with secret +orders, to boot. + +_Judge_--I thought so! + +_Curator_--If there's not trouble, then I'm mistaken! + +_Superintendent_--Heavens! And with secret orders, too! + +_Chief_--I foresaw it: all last night I was dreaming of two huge rats; I +never saw such rats: they were black, and of supernatural size! They +came, and smelled, and went away. I will read you the letter I have +received from Andrei Ivan'itch Tchorikoff,--whom you know, Artemiy +Philip'itch. This is what he writes:--"Dear friend, gossip and +benefactor!" [_Mutters in an undertone, as he runs his eye quickly over +it._] "I hasten to inform you, among other things, that an official has +arrived with orders to inspect the entire government, and our district +in particular." [_Raises his finger significantly._] "I have heard this +from trustworthy people, although he represents himself as a private +individual. As I know that you are not quite free from faults, since you +are a sensible man, and do not like to let slip what runs into your +hands--" [_Pauses._] Well, here are some remarks about his own +affairs--"so I advise you to be on your guard: for he may arrive at any +moment, if he is not already arrived and living somewhere incognito. +Yesterday--" Well, what follows is about family matters--"My sister Anna +Kirilovna has come with her husband; Ivan Kirilitch has grown very fat, +and still plays the violin--" and so forth, and so forth. So there you +have the whole matter. + +_Judge_--Yes, the matter is so unusual, so remarkable; something +unexpected. + +_Superintendent_--And why? Anton Anton'itch, why is this? Why is the +Inspector coming hither? + +_Chief_ [_sighs_]--Why? Evidently, it is fate. [_Sighs._] Up to this +time, God be praised, they have attended to other towns; now our turn +has come. + +_Judge_--I think, Anton Anton'itch, that there is some fine political +cause at the bottom of this. This means something: Russia--yes--Russia +wants to go to war, and the minister, you see, has sent an official to +find out whether there is any treason. + +_Chief_--What's got hold of him? A sensible man, truly! Treason in a +provincial town! Is it a border town--is it, now? Why, you could ride +away from here for three years and not reach any other kingdom. + +_Judge_--No, I tell you. You don't--you don't--The government has subtle +reasons; no matter if it is out of the way, they don't care for that. + +_Chief_--Whether they care or not, I have warned you, gentlemen. See to +it! I have made some arrangements in my own department, and I advise you +to do the same. Especially you, Artemiy Philip'itch! Without doubt, this +traveling official will wish first of all to inspect your +institutions--and therefore you must arrange things so that they will be +decent. The nightcaps should be clean, and the sick people should not +look like blacksmiths, as they usually do in private. + +_Curator_--Well, that's a mere trifle. We can put clean nightcaps on +them. + +_Chief_--And then, you ought to have written up over the head of each +bed, in Latin or some other language--that's your business--the name of +each disease: when each patient was taken sick, the day and hour. It is +not well that your sick people should smoke such strong tobacco that one +has to sneeze every time he goes in there. Yes, and it would be better +if there were fewer of them: it will be set down at once to bad +supervision or to lack of skill on the doctor's part. + +_Curator_--Oh! so far as the doctoring is concerned, Christian +Ivan'itch and I have already taken measures: the nearer to nature the +better,--we don't use any expensive medicines. Man is a simple creature: +if he dies, why then he dies; if he gets well, why then he gets well. +And then, it would have been difficult for Christian Ivan'itch to make +them understand him--he doesn't know one word of Russian. + +_Chief_--I should also advise you, Ammos Feodor'itch, to turn your +attention to court affairs. In the ante-room, where the clients usually +assemble, your janitor has got a lot of geese and goslings, which waddle +about under foot. Of course it is praiseworthy to be thrifty in domestic +affairs, and why should not the janitor be so too? only, you know, it is +not proper in that place. I meant to mention it to you before, but +always forgot it. + +_Judge_--I'll order them to be taken to the kitchen this very day. Will +you come and dine with me? + +_Chief_--And moreover, it is not well that all sorts of stuff should be +put to dry in the court-room, and that over the very desk, with the +documents, there should be a hunting-whip. I know that you are fond of +hunting, but there is a proper time for everything, and you can hang it +up there again when the Inspector takes his departure. And then your +assistant--he's a man of experience, but there's a smell about him as +though he had just come from a distillery--and that's not as it should +be. I meant to speak to you about it long ago, but something, I don't +recall now precisely what, put it out of my mind. There is a remedy, if +he really was born with the odor, as he asserts: you might advise him +to eat onions or garlic or something. In that case, Christian Ivan'itch +could assist you with some medicaments. + +_Judge_--No, it's impossible to drive it out: he says that his mother +injured him when he was a child, and an odor of whisky has emanated from +him ever since. + +_Chief_--Yes, I just remarked on it. As for internal arrangements, and +what Andrei Ivan'itch in his letter calls "faults," I can say nothing. +Yes, and strange to say, there is no man who has not his faults. God +himself arranged it so, and it is useless for the freethinkers to +maintain the contrary. + +_Judge_--What do you mean by faults, Anton Anton'itch? There are various +sorts of faults. I tell every one frankly that I take bribes; but what +sort of bribes? greyhound pups. That's quite another thing. + +_Chief_--Well, greyhound pups or anything else, it's all the same. + +_Judge_--Well, no, Anton Anton'itch. But for example, if some one has a +fur coat worth five hundred rubles, and his wife has a shawl-- + +_Chief_--Well, and how about your taking greyhound pups as bribes? Why +don't you trust in God? You never go to church. I am firm in the faith, +at all events, and go to church every Sunday. But you--oh, I know you! +If you begin to talk about the creation of the world, one's hair rises +straight up on his head. + +_Judge_--It came of itself, of its own accord. + +_Chief_--Well, in some cases it is worse to have brains than to be +entirely without them. Besides, I only just mentioned the district +court: but to tell the truth, it is only very rarely that any one ever +looks in there; 'tis such an enviable place that God himself protects +it. And as for you, Luka Luk'itch, as superintendent of schools, you +must bestir yourself with regard to the teachers. They are educated +people, to be sure, and were reared at divers academies, but they have +very peculiar ways which go naturally with that learned profession. One +of them, for instance, the fat-faced one,--I don't recall his +name,--cannot get along without making grimaces when he takes his +seat;--like this [_makes a grimace_]: and then he begins to smooth his +beard out from under his neckerchief, with his hand. In short, if he +makes such faces at the scholars, there is nothing to be said: it must +be necessary; I am no judge of that. But just consider--if he were to +do that to a visitor it might be very unpleasant; the Inspector or any +one else might take it as personal. The Devil knows what might come of +it. + +_Superintendent_--What am I to do with him? I have spoken to him about +it several times already. A few days ago, when our chief went into the +class-room, he made such a grimace as I never beheld before. He made it +out of good-will; but it is a judgment on me, because freethinking is +being inculcated in the young people. + +_Chief_--And I must also mention the teacher of history. He's a wise +man, that's plain, and has acquired a great mass of learning; but he +expresses himself with so much warmth that he loses control of himself. +I heard him once: well, so long as he was talking about the Assyrians +and Babylonians, it was all right; but when he got to Alexander of +Macedon, I can't describe to you what came over him. I thought there was +a fire, by heavens! He jumped from his seat and dashed his chair to the +floor with all his might. Alexander of Macedon was a hero, no doubt; but +why smash the chairs? There will be a deficit in the accounts, just as +the result of that. + +_Superintendent_--Yes, he is hasty! I have remarked on it to him several +times. He says, "What would you have? I would sacrifice my life for +science." + +_Chief_--Yes, such is the incomprehensible decree of fate: a learned man +is always a drunkard, or else he makes faces that would scare the very +saints. + +_Superintendent_--God forbid that he should inspect the educational +institutions. Everybody meddles and tries to show everybody else that he +is a learned man. + +_Chief_--That would be nothing: that cursed incognito! All of a sudden +you hear--"Ah, here you are, my little dears! And who," says he, "is the +Judge here?"--"Lyapkin-Tyapkin."--"And who is the Superintendent of the +Hospital?"--"Zemlyanika!" That's the worst of it! + + _Enter_ Postmaster + +_Chief_---Well, how do you feel, Ivan Kusmitch? + +_Postmaster_--How do I feel? How do _you_ feel, Anton Anton'itch? + +_Chief_--How do I feel? I'm not afraid; and yet I am,--a little. The +merchants and citizens cause me some anxiety. They say I have been hard +with them; but God knows, if I have ever taken anything from them it was +not out of malice. I even think [_takes him by the arm and leads him +aside_]--I even think there may be a sort of complaint against me. Why, +in fact, is the Inspector coming to us? Listen, Ivan Kusmitch: why can't +you--for our common good, you know--open every letter which passes +through your office, going or coming, and read it, to see whether it +contains a complaint or is simply correspondence? If it does not, then +you can seal it up again. Besides, you could even deliver the letter +unsealed. + +_Postmaster_--I know, I know. You can't tell me anything about that; I +always do it, not out of circumspection but out of curiosity: I'm deadly +fond of knowing what is going on in the world. It's very interesting +reading, I can tell you! It is a real treat to read some letters: they +contain such descriptions of occurrences, and they're so +improving--better than the Moscow News. + + [The play proceeds: two men, the town busybodies, happen to + find at the inn a traveler who has been living on credit and + going nowhere for two weeks. The landlord is about to put his + lodger in prison for debt, when these men jump to the + conclusion that he is the Inspector. The Prefect and other + terrified officials accept the suggestion, in spite of his + plain statement as to his identity. They set about making the + town presentable, entertain and bribe him, and bow down to + him. He accepts their hospitality, asks loans, makes love to + the Prefect's silly wife and daughter, betroths himself to + the latter, receives the petitions and bribes of the + oppressed townspeople,--and drives off with the best + post-horses the town can furnish, ostensibly to ask the + blessing of his rich old uncle on his marriage. The + Postmaster intercepts a letter which he has written to a + friend. Its revelations, and the ridicule which he therein + casts on his hosts, open their eyes at last. At that moment a + gendarme appears and announces that the Inspector has + arrived. Tableau.] + + Translated for 'A Library of the World's Best Literature,' + by Isabel F. Hapgood + + + +OLD-FASHIONED GENTRY + +From 'Mirgorod' + + +I am very fond of the modest life of those isolated owners of remote +estates which are generally called "old-fashioned" in Little Russia, and +which, like ruinous and picturesque houses, are beautiful through their +simplicity and complete contrast to a new and regular building whose +walls have never yet been washed by the rain, whose roof has not yet +been overgrown with moss, and whose porch, still possessed of its +stucco, does not yet display its red bricks. I can still see the +low-roofed little house, with its veranda of slender, blackened wooden +columns, surrounding it on all sides, so that in case of a thunder-storm +or a hail-storm you could close the window shutters without getting wet; +behind it fragrant wild-cherry trees, row upon row of dwarf fruit-trees, +overtopped by crimson cherries and a purple sea of plums, covered with a +lead-colored bloom, luxuriant maples under whose shade rugs were spread +for repose; in front of the house the spacious yard, with short fresh +grass, through which paths had been worn from the storehouses to the +kitchen, from the kitchen to the apartments of the family; a long-necked +goose drinking water with her young goslings, soft as down; the picket +fence festooned with bunches of dried apples and pears, and rugs hung +out to air; a cart-load of melons standing near the store-house, the +oxen unyoked and lying lazily beside it. All this has for me an +indescribable charm,--perhaps because I no longer see it, and because +anything from which we are separated pleases us. + +But more than all else, the owners of this distant nook,--an old man and +old woman,--hastening eagerly out to meet me, gave me pleasure. Afanasy +Ivanovitch Tovstogub and his wife, Pulkheria Ivanovna Tovstogubikha, +according to the neighboring peasants' way of expressing it, were the +old people of whom I began to speak. If I were a painter and wished to +depict Philemon and Baucis on canvas, I could have found no better +models than they. Afanasy Ivanovitch was sixty years old, Pulkheria +Ivanovna was fifty-five. Afanasy Ivanovitch was tall, always wore a +short sheepskin coat covered with camlet, sat all doubled up, and was +almost always smiling, whether he were telling a story or only listening +to one. Pulkheria Ivanovna was rather serious, and hardly ever laughed; +but her face and eyes expressed so much goodness, so much eagerness to +treat you to all the best they owned, that you would probably have found +a smile too repelling on her kind face. The delicate wrinkles were so +agreeably disposed on their countenances that an artist would certainly +have appropriated them. It seemed as though in them you might read their +whole life: the pure, peaceful life led by the old, patriotic, +simple-hearted, and at the same time wealthy families, which always +present a marked contrast to those baser Little-Russians who work up +from tar-burners and peddlers, throng the court-rooms like grasshoppers, +squeeze the last copper from their fellow-countrymen, crowd Petersburg +with scandal-mongers, finally acquire capital, and triumphantly add an +_f_ to their surnames which end in _o_. No, they did not resemble those +despicable and miserable creatures, but all ancient and native +Little-Russian families. + +They never had any children, so all their affection was concentrated on +themselves. + +The rooms of the little house in which our old couple dwelt were small, +low-ceiled, such as are generally to be seen with old-fashioned people. +In each room stood a huge stove, which occupied nearly one-third of the +space. These little rooms were frightfully hot, because both Afanasy +Ivanovitch and Pulkheria Ivanovna were fond of heat. All their fuel was +stored in the ante-room, which was always filled nearly to the ceiling +with straw, which is generally used in Little Russia in place of wood. + +The chairs of the room were of wood, and massive, in the style which +generally marked those of the olden times: all had high, turned backs of +natural wood, without any paint or varnish; they were not even +upholstered, and somewhat resembled those which are still used by +bishops. Triangular tables stood in the corners, a square table stood in +front of the sofa; and there was a large mirror in a slender gilt frame, +carved in foliage, which the flies had covered with black spots; in +front of the sofa was a mat with flowers which resembled birds, and +birds which resembled flowers: and these things constituted almost the +entire furniture of the far from elegant little house where my old +people lived. The maids' room was filled with young and elderly +serving-women in striped chemises, to whom Pulkheria Ivanovna sometimes +gave trifles to sew, and whom she set to picking over berries, but who +ran about the kitchen or slept the greater part of the time. Pulkheria +Ivanovna regarded it as a necessity that she should keep them in the +house, and she kept a strict watch of their morals; but to no purpose. + +Afanasy Ivan'itch very rarely occupied himself with the farming; +although he sometimes went out to see the mowers and reapers, and gazed +with great intensity at their work. All the burden of management +devolved upon Pulkheria Ivan'na. Pulkheria Ivanovna's housekeeping +consisted of a constant locking and unlocking of the storehouse, of +salting, drying, and preserving incalculable quantities of fruits and +vegetables. Her house was exactly like a chemical laboratory. A fire was +constantly laid under an apple-tree; and the kettle or the brass pan +with preserves, jelly, marmalade,--made with honey, with sugar, and with +I know not what else,--was hardly ever taken from the tripod. Under +another tree the coachman was forever distilling vodka with +peach-leaves, with wild cherry, cherry flowers, wild gentian, or +cherry-stones, in a copper still; and at the end of the process he was +never able to control his tongue, but chattered all sorts of nonsense +which Pulkheria Ivanovna did not understand, and took himself off to the +kitchen to sleep. Such a quantity of all this stuff was preserved, +salted, and dried that it would probably have overwhelmed the whole yard +at least (for Pulkheria Ivanovna liked to lay in a store far beyond what +was calculated for consumption), if the greater part of it had not been +devoured by the maid-servants, who crept into the storehouse and overate +themselves to such a fearful extent that they groaned and complained of +their stomachs for a whole day afterwards. + +Both the old folks, in accordance with old-fashioned customs, were very +fond of eating. As soon as daylight dawned (they always rose early) and +the doors had begun their many-toned concert of squeaks, they sat down +at the table and drank coffee. When Afanasy Ivanovitch had drunk his +coffee, he went out, flirted his handkerchief, and said, "Kish, kish! go +away from the veranda, geese!" In the yard he generally encountered the +steward: he usually entered into conversation with him, inquired about +the work of the estate with the greatest minuteness, and imparted to him +such a multitude of observations and orders as would have caused any one +to marvel at his understanding of business; and no novice would have +ventured to conjecture that so acute a master could be robbed. But his +steward was a clever rascal: he knew well what answers he must give, and +better still how to manage things. + +This done, Afanasy Ivanovitch returned to the house, and approaching +Pulkheria Ivanovna, said, "Well, Pulkheria Ivan'na, is it time to eat +something, do you think?" + +"What shall we have to eat now, Afanasy Ivan'itch,--some wheat and suet +cakes, or some patties with poppy-seeds, or some salted mushrooms?" + +"Some mushrooms, then, or some patties, if you please," said Afanasy +Ivan'itch; and then suddenly a table-cloth would make its appearance on +the table, with the patties and mushrooms. + +An hour before dinner Afanasy Ivan'itch took another snack, and drank +vodka from an ancient silver cup, ate mushrooms, divers dried fishes, +and other things. They sat down to dine at twelve o'clock. There stood +upon the table, in addition to the platters and sauce-boats, a multitude +of pots with covers pasted on, that the appetizing products of the +savory old-fashioned cooking might not be exhaled abroad. At dinner the +conversation turned upon subjects closely connected with the meal. + +After dinner Afanasy Ivanovitch went to lie down for an hour, at the end +of which time Pulkheria Ivanovna brought him a sliced watermelon and +said, "Here, try this, Afanasy Ivan'itch; see what a good melon it is." + +"Don't put faith in it because it is red in the centre, Pulkheria +Ivan'na," said Afanasy Ivanovitch, taking a good-sized chunk. "Sometimes +they are not good though they are red." + +But the watermelon slowly disappeared. Then Afanasy Ivanovitch ate a few +pears, and went out into the garden for a walk with Pulkheria Ivanovna. +When they returned to the house, Pulkheria Ivanovna went about her own +affairs; but he sat down on the veranda facing the yard, and observed +how the interior of the store-room was alternately disclosed and +revealed, and how the girls jostled each other as they carried in or +brought out all sorts of stuff in wooden boxes, sieves, trays, and other +receptacles for fruit. After waiting a while, he sent for Pulkheria +Ivanovna or went in search of her himself, and said, "What is there for +me to eat, Pulkheria Ivan'na?" + +"What is there?" asked Pulkheria Ivanovna. "Shall I go and tell them to +bring you some curd dumplings with berries, which I had set aside for +you?" + +"That would be good," answered Afanasy Ivanovitch. + +"Or perhaps you could eat some kisel?" [A jelly-like pudding, made of +potato flour, and flavored with some sour fruit juice.] + +"That is good also," replied Afanasy Invanovitch; whereupon all of them +were immediately brought and eaten in due course. + +Before supper Afanasy Invanovitch took another appetizing snack. + +At half-past nine they sat down to supper. After supper they went +directly to bed, and universal silence settled down upon this busy yet +quiet nook. + +The chamber in which Afanasy Ivanovitch and Pulkheria Ivanovna slept was +so hot that very few people could have stayed in it more than a few +hours; but Afanasy Ivanovitch, for the sake of more warmth, slept upon +the stove bench, although the excessive heat caused him to rise several +times in the course of the night and walk about the room. Sometimes +Afanasy Ivanovitch groaned as he walked thus about the room. + +Then Pulkheria Ivanovna inquired, "Why do you groan, Afanasy Ivan'itch?" + +"God knows, Pulkheria Ivan'na! It seems to me that my stomach aches a +little," said Afanasy Ivanovitch. + +"Hadn't you better eat something, Afanasy Ivan'itch?" + +"I don't know; perhaps it would be well, Pulkheria Ivan'na: by the way, +what is there to eat?" + +"Sour milk, or some stewed dried pears." + +"If you please, I will try them," said Afanasy Ivanovitch. A sleepy maid +was sent to ransack the cupboards, and Afanasy Ivanovitch ate a +plateful; after which he remarked, "Now I seem to feel relieved." + +I loved to visit them; and though I over-ate myself horribly, like all +their guests, and although it was very bad for me, still I was always +glad to go to them. Besides, I think that the air of Little Russia must +possess some special properties which aid digestion; for if any one were +to undertake to eat in that way here, there is not a doubt but that he +would find himself lying on the table a corpse, instead of in bed. + +Pulkheria Ivanovna had a little gray cat, which almost always lay coiled +up in a ball at her feet. Pulkheria Ivanovna stroked her occasionally, +and tickled her neck with her finger, the petted cat stretching it out +as long as possible. It would not be correct to affirm that Pulkheria +Ivanovna loved her so very much, but she had simply become attached to +her from seeing her continually about. Afanasy Ivanovitch often joked +about the attachment. + +Behind their garden lay a large forest, which had been spared by the +enterprising steward, possibly because the sound of the axe might have +reached the ears of Pulkheria Ivanovna. It was dense, neglected; the old +tree trunks were concealed by luxuriant hazel-bushes, and resembled the +feathered legs of pigeons. In this wood dwelt wild cats. These cats had +a long conference with Pulkheria Ivanovna's tame cat through a hole +under the storehouse, and at last led her astray, as a detachment of +soldiers leads astray a dull-witted peasant. Pulkheria Ivanovna noticed +that her cat was missing, and caused search to be made for her; but no +cat was to be found. Three days passed; Pulkheria Ivanovna felt sorry, +but in the end forgot all about her loss. + + [The cat returns to the place half starved, and is coaxed to + come into the house and eat, but runs away on Pulkheria + Ivanovna's trying to pet her.] + +The old woman became pensive. "It is my death which is come for me," she +said to herself; and nothing could cheer her. All day she was sad. In +vain did Afanasy Ivanovitch jest, and seek to discover why she had +suddenly grown so grave. Pulkheria Ivanovna either made no reply, or one +which did not in the least satisfy Afanasy Ivanovitch. The next day she +had grown visibly thinner. + +"What is the matter with you, Pulkheria Ivanovna? You are not ill?" + +"No, I am not ill, Afanasy Ivan'itch. I want to tell you about a strange +occurrence, I know that I shall die this year; my death has already come +for me." + +Afanasy Ivanovitch's mouth was distorted with pain. Nevertheless he +tried to conquer the sad feeling in his mind, and said smiling, "God +only knows what you are talking about, Pulkheria Ivan'na! You must have +drunk some of your peach infusion instead of your usual herb tea." + +"No, Afanasy Ivan'itch, I have not drunk my peach infusion," replied +Pulkheria Ivanovna. "I beg of you, Afanasy Ivan'itch, to fulfill my +wishes. When I die, bury me by the church wall. Put on me my grayish +gown,--the one with the small flowers on a cinnamon ground. My satin +gown with the red stripes you must not put on me: a corpse needs no +clothes; of what use are they to her? But it will be good for you. Make +yourself a fine dressing-gown, in case visitors come, so that you can +make a good appearance when you receive them." + +"God knows what you are saying, Pulkheria Ivan'na!" said Afanasy +Ivanovitch. "Death will come some time; but you frighten me with such +remarks." + +"Mind, Yavdokha," she said, turning to the housekeeper, whom she had +sent for expressly, "that you look after your master when I am dead, and +cherish him like the apple of your eye, like your own child. See that +everything he likes is prepared in the kitchen; that his linen and +clothes are always clean; that when visitors happen in, you dress him +properly, otherwise he will come forth in his old dressing-gown, for he +often forgets now whether it is a festival or an ordinary day." + +Poor old woman! She had no thought for the great moment which was +awaiting her, nor of her soul, nor of the future life; she thought only +of her poor companion, with whom she had passed her life, and whom she +was about to leave an orphan and unprotected. After this fashion did she +arrange everything with great skill, so that after her death Afanasy +Ivanovitch might not perceive her absence. Her faith in her approaching +end was so firm, and her mind was so fixed upon it, that in a few days +she actually took to her bed, and was unable to swallow any nourishment. + +Afanasy Ivanovitch was all attention, and never left her bedside. +"Perhaps you could eat something, Pulkheria Ivan'na," he said, gazing +uneasily into her eyes. But Pulkheria Ivanovna made no reply. At length, +after a long silence, she moved her lips as though desirous of saying +something--and her spirit fled. + +Afanasy Ivanovitch was utterly amazed. It seemed to him so terrible that +he did not even weep. He gazed at her with troubled eyes, as though he +did not understand the meaning of a corpse. + +Five years passed. Being in the vicinity at the end of the five years, I +went to the little estate of Afanasy Ivanovitch, to inquire after my old +neighbor, with whom I had spent the day so agreeably in former times, +dining always on the choicest delicacies of his kind-hearted wife. When +I drove up to the door, the house seemed twice as old as formerly; the +peasants' cottages were lying on one side, without doubt exactly like +their owners; the fence and hedge around the yard were dilapidated; and +I myself saw the cook pull out a paling to heat the stove, when she had +only a couple of steps to take in order to get the kindling-wood which +had been piled there expressly for her use. I stepped sadly upon the +veranda; the same dogs, now blind or with broken legs, raised their +bushy tails, all matted with burs, and barked. + +The old man came out to meet me. So this was he! I recognized him at +once, but he was twice as bent as formerly. He knew me, and greeted me +with the smile which was so familiar to me. I followed him into the +room. All there seemed as in the past; but I observed a strange +disorder, a tangible loss of something. In everything was visible the +absence of the painstaking Pulkheria Ivanovna. At table, they gave us a +knife without a handle; the dishes were prepared with little art. I did +not care to inquire about the management of the estate; I was even +afraid to glance at the farm buildings. I tried to interest Afanasy +Ivanovitch in something, and told him divers bits of news. He listened +with his customary smile, but his glance was at times quite +unintelligent; and thoughts did not wander therein--they simply +disappeared. + +"This is the dish--" said Afanasy Ivanovitch when they brought us curds +and flour with cream, "--this is the dish--" he continued, and I +observed that his voice began to quiver, and that tears were on the +point of bursting from his leaden eyes; but he collected all his +strength in the effort to repress them: "this is the dish which +the--the--the de--ceas--" and his tears suddenly gushed forth, his hand +fell upon his plate, the plate was overturned, flew from the table, and +was broken. He sat stupidly, holding the spoon, and tears like a +never-ceasing fountain flowed, flowed in streams down upon his napkin. + +He did not live long after this. I heard of his death recently. What was +strange, though, was that the circumstances attending it somewhat +resembled those connected with the death of Pulkheria Ivanovna. One day, +Afanasy Ivanovitch decided to take a short stroll in the garden. As he +went slowly down the path with his usual heedlessness, a strange thing +happened to him. All at once he heard some one behind him say in a +distinct voice, "Afanasy Ivan'itch!" He turned round, but there was no +one there. He looked on all sides; he peered into the shrubbery,--no one +anywhere. The day was calm and the sun was shining brightly. He pondered +for a moment. Then his face lighted up, and at last he cried, "It is +Pulkheria Ivanovna calling me!" + +He surrendered himself utterly to the moral conviction that Pulkheria +Ivanovna was calling him. He yielded with the meekness of a submissive +child, withered up, coughed, melted away like a candle, and at last +expired like it when nothing remains to feed its poor flame. "Lay me +beside Pulkheria Ivan'na"--that was all he said before his death. + +His wish was fulfilled; and they buried him beside the churchyard wall +close to Pulkheria Ivanovna's grave. The guests at the funeral were few, +but there was a throng of common and poor people. The house was already +quite deserted. The enterprising clerk and village elder carried off to +their cottages all the old household utensils which the housekeeper did +not manage to appropriate. + + Translated for 'A Library of the World's Best Literature,' + by Isabel F. Hapgood + + + + +[Illustration: CARLO GOLDONI.] + + + + +CARLO GOLDONI + +(1707-1793) + +BY WILLIAM CRANSTON LAWTON + + +Italy is generally felt to be, above all other lands, the natural home +of the drama. In acting, as in music, indeed, the sceptre has never +wholly passed from her: Ristori and Salvini certainly are not yet +forgotten. The Graeco-Roman comedies of Plautus and Terence, the +rhetorical tragedy of Seneca, have had a far more direct hand in molding +the modern dramatists' art than have the loftier creative masterpieces +of the great Attic Four. Indeed, Latin has never become in Italy a +really dead language, remote from the popular consciousness. The +splendor of the Church ritual, the great mass of the educated clergy, +the almost purely Latin roots of the vernacular, have made such a loss +impossible. + +In the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries Terence and Plautus were often +revived on the stage, still oftener imitated in Latin. Many of the +greatest names in modern Italian literature are in some degree +associated with drama. Thus Machiavelli made free Italian versions from +both the comic Latin poets, and wrote a powerful though immoral prose +comedy, 'The Magic Draught' (Mandragola). Tasso's 'Aminta' is as sweet +and musical, and hardly so artificial, as that famous 'Pastor Fido' of +Guarini, which has become the ideal type of all the mock-pastoral comedy +out of which the modern opera has risen. + +So, when Goldoni is hailed as the father of modern Italian comedy, it +can only mean that his prolific Muse has dominated the stage in our own +century and in its native land. In his delightfully naive Memoirs he +frequently announces himself as the leader of _reform_ in the dramatic +art. And this claim is better founded; though there is a startling +discrepancy between the character, the temper, the life of this child of +the sun, and the Anglo-Saxon ideal of "Man the Reformer" as delineated, +for instance, by our own cooler-blooded Emerson! + +Under the lead of Goldoni's elder contemporary Metastasio, the lyrical +drama of pastoral and artificial love had become fully wedded to music; +and it is rightly felt that the resulting modern opera is a genus of its +own, not essentially nor chiefly dramatic in character and aims. An +opera can be sung without action; it cannot be acted without music. On +the other hand, the farce had become almost restricted to the stock +masked characters, Pantaloon, the Dottore, Arlecchino, and the rest, +with a narrow range of childish buffoonery in the action. The companies +of professional actors, endowed with that marvelous power of +improvisation which the very language of Italy seems to stimulate, +hardly permitted the poet to offer them more than a mere outline of a +shallow plot, to be filled in from scene to scene at the impulse of the +moment on the stage! + +Under these circumstances it was indeed necessary to reclaim the rights +of the dramatic poet, to reduce to decent limits the "gag" which the +comic actor has doubtless always been eager to use, and also to educate +or beguile his public up to the point of lending a moderately attentive +ear to a play of sustained interest and culminating plot. In this +seemingly modest but really most difficult task, Goldoni scored a +decided success,--a triumph. + +Even his checkered life as a whole was, at eighty, in his own retrospect +a happy comedy, mingled with few serious reverses and hardly darkened at +all by remorse. Such lives at best are nowise numerous. Adequate +self-portraitures of successful artists are so rare that the +autobiographies of the gentle Goldoni, and of his savage +fellow-countryman Benvenuto Cellini, almost form a class of literature +by themselves. + +Born in Venice in fair social position, Goldoni spent his childhood +chiefly in Chiozza, a ruder and humbler miniature of the island city +some twenty-five miles away. Though an incurable wanderer,--indeed, so +filled with the true Bohemian's feverish love for change that he never +could endure even success anywhere for many summers,--he yet gave more +of his best years, and a heartier loyalty, to Venice than to any other +home. He knew best, and delineated best, the ordinary life of the +lagoons. Mr. Howells, himself by long residence and love a +half-Venetian, declares that the comedies in the local dialect are +invariably the best, and next best the Italian plays whose scenes are at +least laid in Venice. Perhaps the critic is here himself unduly swayed +by his affections. Goldoni knew well nearly all Italian lands. He had +even, for a series of years, a career as an advocate in Pisa. "My comic +genius was not extinguished, but suppressed," he explains. He did not +even then give up play-writing, and a traveling theatre manager easily +beguiled him back to Venice. This was in 1747, and this same manager, +Medebac, setting up a new theatre in Venice, absorbed Goldoni's energies +for several years. It was in 1750 that he successfully carried out a +rash vow to produce sixteen new comedies in a single year! Among these +are a goodly number of his best, including 'The Coffee-House,' from +which a few scenes are given below. + +Though he passed over into the service of a different theatre, traveled +constantly with his actors, accepted invitations to Parma, Rome, etc., +to oversee the performance of his plays, yet he never gave up his home +in Venice altogether, until summoned to Paris in 1761. These fourteen +years, moreover, form the happiest period of his life. His income from +the theatres, from published editions of his comedies, and from his +inherited property, would have made him wealthy, but for his extravagant +and careless mode of life. + +Despite one notable success in French with the comedy 'The Surly +Benefactor' (1771), Goldoni's life in France was relatively unprofitable +and ignoble. He became Italian teacher of various royal princesses, with +the utmost uncertainty and delay as to his salaries or pensions. Yet he +could never break the fascination of Paris. The art of the French actors +was a never-failing delight to him. There, at the age of eighty, in +French, he wrote and published his 'Memoirs.' The Revolution swept away +his negligent patrons. In poverty and utter neglect he died at last, +just as the republicans were ready to restore his royal pension. + +Goldoni was the child of Italy and of the eighteenth century. He had no +serious quarrel with his environment. He was not greatly superior, in +actual character or aspirations, to his associates. His affection for +his devoted wife did not save him from many a wandering passion. The +promising prima donnas, in particular, found in him an all too devoted +instructor and protector. The gaming-table and the lottery are +apparently irresistible to any true Italian, and Goldoni knew by heart +the passions which he ridicules or condemns, though without bitterness, +upon his stage. His oft-repeated claim to have reformed the Italian +theatre meant chiefly this: that between the lyrical drama of Metastasio +on the one hand, and the popular masque with stock characters on the +other,--and while contributing to both these forms of art,--he did +firmly establish the comedy of plot and dialogue, carefully learned and +rehearsed, in which the players must speak the speech as it is +pronounced to them by the poet. + +Goldoni himself acknowledges, perhaps not too sincerely, in his Parisian +memoirs, the superiority, the mastership, of Moliere. In truth, the +great Frenchman stands, with Aristophanes and Shakespeare, upon a lonely +height quite unapproached by lesser devotees of Thalia. We must not seek +in Goldoni a prober of the human heart, not even a fearless satirist of +social conditions. In his rollicking good-humor and content with the +world as he finds it, Goldoni is much like Plautus. He is moreover under +a censorship hardly less severe. He dares not, for instance, introduce +upon his stage any really offensive type of Venetian nobleman. As for +religious dictation, the convent must not even be mentioned, though the +_aunt_ with whom the young lady is visiting sometimes becomes as +transparent an idiom as the "uncle" of a spendthrift cockney! The +audience, moreover, demand only diversion, not serious instruction (as +Goethe complains, even of his grave Germans, in the 'Prolog im +Theater'). It is remarkable, under all these conditions, how healthy, +how kindly, how proper, most of Goldoni's work is. Doubtless, like +Goldsmith, he could preach the more gracefully, persuasively, and +unobservedly, because he never attempted to escape from the very vices +or indulgences that he satirizes. But even the most determined seeker +for the moral element in art will find little indeed thereof in +Goldoni's merry comedies. Incredible as it seems to us Puritans, he +really made it his mission to amuse. Thoroughly in love with the rather +ignoble, trivial life of his day, he holds the dramatic mirror up to it +with lifelong optimism and enjoyment. His wit is not keen, his poetic +imagination is slight indeed. Aside from the true dramatist's skill in +construction, in plot, his power lies chiefly in the rapid, clear, firm +outlines of his character-drawing. These characters are for the most +part just about such men and women, such creatures of impulse and whim, +such genial mingling of naughtiness and good intentions, as we see about +us. He never delineates a saint or a hero; hardly a monster of +wickedness. He had never known either, and would not have been +interested if he had. The charm of Goldoni is felt chiefly in Venice, or +at least in Italy, while listening to his comedy and watching the +enjoyment mirrored in the faces of his own audience. It evaporates in +translation, and his plays are meant only to be heard, not read. To Mr. +Howells's own affectionate testimony we may add his happy citation from +Goethe, who is writing from Venice in 1786: + + "Yesterday, at the theatre of St. Luke, was performed 'Le + Baruffe-Chiozotte,' which I should interpret 'The Frays and + Feuds of Chiozza.' The _dramatis personae_ are principally + seafaring people, inhabitants of Chiozza, with their wives, + sisters, and daughters. The usual noisy demonstrations of + such sort of people in their good or ill luck,--their + dealings one with another, their vehemence but goodness of + heart, commonplace remarks and unaffected manners, their + naive wit and humor,--all this was excellently imitated. The + piece moreover is Goldoni's, and as I had been only the day + before in the place itself, and as the tones and manners of + the sailors and people of the seaport still echoed in my ears + and floated before my eyes, it delighted me very much; and + although I did not understand a single allusion, I was + nevertheless, on the whole, able to follow it pretty well.... + I never witnessed anything like the noisy delight the people + evinced at seeing themselves and their mates represented with + such truth of nature. It was one continued laugh and + tumultuous shout of exultation from beginning to end.... + Great praise is due to the author, who out of nothing has + here created the most amusing _divertissement_. However, he + never could have done it with any other people than his own + merry and light-hearted countrymen." + +Of Goldoni's one hundred and sixty comedies, only a scanty handful have +been tolerably translated in English. As accessible and agreeable an +introduction as any, perhaps, is the version of four notable plays by +Miss Helen Zimmern in the series 'Masterpieces of Foreign Authors.' The +'Memoirs' have been fairly rendered by John Black, and this version, +considerably abridged, was served up by Mr. Howells in 1877 among his +series of 'Choice Autobiographies.' Mr. Howells's introductory essay +appeared also in the Atlantic Monthly. It has been drawn upon somewhat +in the present sketch. + + [Signature: William Cranston Lawton] + + + +FIRST LOVE AND PARTING + +From the 'Memoirs of Carlo Goldoni' + + +I was intrusted some time afterwards with another commission, of a much +more agreeable and amusing nature. This was to carry through an +investigation, ten leagues from the town, into the circumstances of a +dispute where firearms had been made use of and dangerous wounds +received. As the country where this happened was flat, and the road lay +through charming estates and country-houses, I engaged several of my +friends to follow me; we were in all twelve, six males and six females, +and four domestics. We all rode on horseback, and we employed twelve +days in this delicious expedition.... + +In this party there were two sisters, one married and the other single. +The latter was very much to my liking, and I may say I made the party +for her alone. She was as prudent and modest as her sister was +headstrong and foolish; the singularity of our journey afforded us an +opportunity of coming to an explanation, and we became lovers. + +My investigation was concluded in two hours; we selected another road +for our return, to vary our pleasure.... The six gentlemen of our party +proposed another species of entertainment. In the palace of the governor +there was a theatre, which they wished to put to some use; and they did +me the honor to tell me that they had conceived the project on my +account, and they left me the power of choosing the pieces and +distributing the characters. I thanked them, and accepted the +proposition; and with the approbation of his Excellency and my +chancellor, I put myself at the head of this new entertainment. I could +have wished something comic, but I was not fond of buffoonery, and there +were no good comedies; I therefore gave the preference to tragedy. As +the operas of Metastasio were then represented everywhere, even without +music, I put the airs into recitative; I endeavored as well as I could +to approximate the style of that charming author; and I made choice of +'Didone' and 'Siroe' for our representation. I distributed the parts +according to the characters of my actors, whom I knew, and I reserved +the worst for myself. In this I acted wisely, for I was completely +unsuited for tragedy. Fortunately, I had composed two small pieces in +which I played two parts of character, and redeemed my reputation. +The first of these pieces was 'The Good Father,' and the second 'La +Cantatrice.' Both were approved of, and my acting was considered +passable for an amateur. I saw the last of these pieces some time +afterwards at Venice, where a young advocate thought proper to give it +out as his own work, and to receive compliments on the subject; but +having been imprudent enough to publish it with his name, he experienced +the mortification of seeing his plagiarism unmasked. + +I did what I could to engage my beautiful Angelica to accept a part in +our tragedies, but it was impossible; she was timid, and had she even +been willing, her parents would not have given their permission. She +visited us; but this pleasure cost her tears, for she was jealous, and +suffered much from seeing me on such a familiar footing with my fair +companions. The poor little girl loved me with tenderness and sincerity, +and I loved her also with my whole soul; I may say she was the first +person whom I ever loved. She aspired to become my wife, which she would +have been if certain singular reflections, that however were well +founded, had not turned me from the design. Her elder sister had been +remarkably beautiful, and after her first child she became ugly. The +youngest had the same skin and the same features; she was one of those +delicate beauties whom the air injures, and whom the smallest fatigue or +pain discomposes: of all of which I saw a convincing proof. The fatigue +of our journey produced a visible change upon her: I was young, and if +my wife were in a short time to have lost her bloom, I foresaw what +would have been my despair. This was reasoning curiously for a lover; +but whether from virtue, weakness, or inconstancy, I quitted Feltre +without marrying her. + + + +THE ORIGIN OF "MASKS" IN THE ITALIAN COMEDY + +From the 'Memoirs of Carlo Goldoni' + + +The amateurs of the old comedy, on seeing the rapid progress of the new, +declared everywhere that it was unworthy of an Italian to give a blow to +a species of comedy in which Italy had attained great distinction, and +which no other nation had ever yet been able to imitate. But what made +the greatest impression on the discontented was the suppression of +masks, which my system appeared to threaten. It was said that these +personages had for two centuries been the amusement of Italy, and that +it ought not to be deprived of a species of comic diversion which it had +created and so well supported. + +Before venturing to give any opinion on this subject, I imagine the +reader will have no objection to listen for a few minutes to a short +account of the origin, employment, and effects of these four masks. +Comedy, which in all ages has been the favorite entertainment of +polished nations, shared the fate of the arts and sciences, and was +buried under the ruins of the Empire during the decay of letters. The +germ of comedy, however, was never altogether extinguished in the +fertile bosom of Italy. Those who first endeavored to bring about its +revival, not finding in an ignorant age writers of sufficient skill, had +the boldness to draw out plans, to distribute them into acts and scenes, +and to utter extempore the subjects, thoughts, and witticisms which they +had concerted among themselves. Those who could read (and neither the +great nor the rich were of the number) found that in the comedies of +Plautus and Terence there were always duped fathers, debauched sons, +enamored girls, knavish servants, and mercenary maids; and, running over +the different districts of Italy, they took the fathers from Venice and +Bologna, the servants from Bergamo, and the lovers and waiting-maids +from the dominions of Rome and Tuscany. Written proofs are not to be +expected of what took place in a time when writing was not in use; but I +prove my assertion in this way: Pantaloon has always been a Venetian, +the Doctor a Bolognese, and Brighella and Harlequin Bergamasks; and from +these places, therefore, the comic personages called the four masks of +the Italian comedy were taken by the players. What I say on this subject +is not altogether the creature of my imagination; I possess a manuscript +of the fifteenth century, in very good preservation and bound in +parchment, containing a hundred and twenty subjects or sketches of +Italian pieces, called comedies of art, and of which the basis of the +comic humor is always Pantaloon, a Venetian merchant; the Doctor, a +Bolognese jurisconsult; and Brighella and Harlequin, Bergamask +valets,--the first clever and sprightly, and the other a mere dolt. +Their antiquity and their long existence indicate their origin. + +With respect to their employment, Pantaloon and the Doctor, called by +the Italians the two old men, represent the part of fathers, and the +other parts where cloaks are worn. The first is a merchant, because +Venice in its ancient times was the richest and most extensively +commercial country of Italy. He has always preserved the ancient +Venetian costume; the black dress and the woolen bonnet are still worn +in Venice; and the red under-waistcoat and breeches, cut out like +drawers, with red stockings and slippers, are a most exact +representation of the equipment of the first inhabitants of the Adriatic +marshes. The beard, which was considered as an ornament in those remote +ages, has been caricatured and rendered ridiculous in subsequent +periods. + +The second old man, called the Doctor, was taken from among the lawyers, +for the sake of opposing a learned man to a merchant; and Bologna was +selected because in that city there existed a university, which, +notwithstanding the ignorance of the times, still preserved the offices +and emoluments of the professors. In the dress of the Doctor we observe +the ancient costume of the university and bar of Bologna, which is +nearly the same at this day; and the idea of the singular mask which +covers his face and nose was taken from a wine stain which disfigured +the countenance of a jurisconsult in those times. This is a tradition +still existing among the amateurs of the comedy of art. + +Brighella and Harlequin, called in Italy the two Zani, were taken from +Bergamo; because, the former being a very sharp fellow and the other a +stupid clown, these two extremes are only to be found among the lower +orders of that part of the country. Brighella represents an intriguing, +deceitful, and knavish valet. His dress is a species of livery; his +swarthy mask is a caricature of the color of the inhabitants of those +high mountains, tanned by the heat of the sun. Some comedians, in this +character, have taken the name of Fenocchio, Fiqueto, and Scapin; but +they have always represented the same valet and the same Bergamask. The +harlequins have also assumed other names: they have been sometimes +Tracagnins, Truffaldins, Gradelins, and Mezetins; but they have always +been stupid Bergamasks. Their dress is an exact representation of that +of a poor devil who has picked up pieces of stuffs of different colors +to patch his dress; his hat corresponds with his mendicity, and the +hare's tail with which it is ornamented is still common in the dress of +the peasantry of Bergamo. + +I have thus, I trust, sufficiently demonstrated the origin and +employment of the four masks of the Italian comedy; it now remains for +me to mention the effects resulting from them. The mask must always be +very prejudicial to the action of the performer, either in joy or +sorrow: whether he be in love, cross, or good-humored, the same features +are always exhibited; and however he may gesticulate and vary the tone, +he can never convey by the countenance, which is the interpreter of the +heart, the different passions with which he is inwardly agitated. The +masks of the Greeks and Romans were a sort of speaking-trumpets, +invented for the purpose of conveying the sound through the vast extent +of their amphitheatres. Passion and sentiment were not in those times +carried to the pitch of delicacy now actually necessary. The actor must +in our days possess a soul; and the soul under a mask is like a fire +under ashes. These were the reasons which induced me to endeavor the +reform of the Italian theatre; and to supply the place of farces with +comedies. But the complaints became louder and louder: I was disgusted +with the two parties, and I endeavored to satisfy both; I undertook to +produce a few pieces merely sketched, without ceasing to give comedies +of character. I employed the masks in the former, and I displayed a more +noble and interesting comic humor in the others: each participated in +the species of pleasure with which they were most delighted; with time +and patience I brought about a reconciliation between them; and I had +the satisfaction at length to see myself authorized in following my own +taste, which became in a few years the most general and prevailing in +Italy. I willingly pardoned the partisans of the comedians with masks +the injuries they laid to my charge; for they were very able amateurs, +who had the merit of giving themselves an interest to sketched +comedies. + + + +PURISTS AND PEDANTRY + +From the 'Memoirs of Carlo Goldoni' + + +My journey to Parma, and the pension and diploma conferred on me, +excited the envy and rage of my adversaries. They had reported at Venice +during my absence that I was dead; and there was a monk who had even the +temerity to say he had been at my funeral. On arriving home safe and +sound, the evil-disposed began to display their irritation at my good +fortune. It was not the authors, my antagonists, who tormented me, but +the partisans of the different theatres of Venice. + +I was defended by literary men, who entertained a favorable opinion of +me; and this gave rise to a warfare in which I was very innocently the +victim of the irritation which had been excited. My system has always +been never to mention the names of my adversaries: but I cannot avoid +expressing the honor which I feel in proclaiming those of my advocates. +Father Roberti, a Jesuit, at present the Abbe Roberti, one of the most +illustrious poets of the suppressed society, published a poem in blank +verse, entitled 'Comedy'; and by dwelling on the reformation effected by +me, and analyzing several scenes in my pieces, he encouraged his +countrymen and mine to follow the example and the system of the Venetian +author. Count Verri, a Milanese, followed the Abbe Roberti.... Other +patricians of Venice wrote in my favor, on account of the disputes which +were every day growing warmer and warmer.... Every day witnessed some +new composition for or against me; but I had this advantage,--that those +who interested themselves for me, from their manners, their talents, and +their reputation, were among the most prudent and distinguished men in +Italy. + +One of the articles for which I was most keenly attacked was a violation +of the purity of the language. I was a Venetian, and I had had the +disadvantage of sucking in with my mother's milk the use of a very +agreeable and seductive patois, which however was not Tuscan. I learned +by principle, and cultivated by reading, the language of the good +Italian authors; but first impressions will return at times, +notwithstanding every attention used in avoiding them. I had undertaken +a journey into Tuscany, where I remained for four years, with the view +of becoming familiar with the language; and I printed the first edition +of my works at Florence, under the eyes and the criticism of the +learned of that place, that I might purify them from errors of language. +All my precautions were insufficient to satisfy the rigorists: I always +failed in one thing or other; and I was perpetually reproached with the +original sin of Venetianism. + +Amidst all this tedious trifling, I recollected one day that Tasso had +been worried his whole lifetime by the Academicians della Crusca, who +maintained that his 'Jerusalem Delivered' had not passed through the +sieve which is the emblem of their society. I was then in my closet, and +I turned my eyes towards the twelve quarto volumes of the works of that +author, and exclaimed, "Oh heavens! must no one write in the Italian +language who has not been born in Tuscany?" I turned up mechanically the +five volumes of the Dictionary della Crusca, where I found more than six +hundred words, and a number of expressions, approved of by the academy +and rejected by the world; I ran over several ancient authors considered +as classical, whom it would be impossible to imitate in the present day +without censure; and I came to this conclusion--that we must write in +good Italian, but write at the same time so as to be understood in every +corner of Italy. Tasso was therefore wrong in reforming his poem to +please the Academicians della Crusca: his 'Jerusalem Delivered' is read +by everybody, while nobody thinks of reading his 'Jerusalem Conquered.' + + + +A POET'S OLD AGE + +From the 'Memoirs of Carlo Goldoni' + + +I return to my regimen,--you will say here also, perhaps, that I ought +to omit it: you are in the right; but all this is in my head, and I must +be delivered of it by degrees; I cannot spare you a single comma. After +dinner I am not fond of either working or walking. Sometimes I go to the +theatre, but I am most generally in parties till nine o'clock in the +evening. I always return before ten o'clock. I take two or three small +cakes with a glass of wine and water, and this is the whole of my +supper. I converse with my wife till midnight; I very soon fall asleep, +and pass the night tranquilly. + +It sometimes happens to me, as well as every other person, to have my +head occupied with something capable of retarding my sleep. In this +case I have a certain remedy to lull myself asleep, and it is this: I +had long projected a vocabulary of the Venetian dialect, and I had even +communicated my intention to the public, who are still in expectation of +it. While laboring at this tedious and disgusting work, I soon +discovered that it threw me asleep. I laid it therefore aside, and I +profited by its narcotic faculty. Whenever I feel my mind agitated by +any moral cause, I take at random some word of my national language and +translate it into Tuscan and French. In the same manner I pass in review +all the words which follow in the alphabetical order, and I am sure to +fall asleep at the third or fourth version. My recipe has never once +failed me. It is not difficult to demonstrate the cause and effect of +this phenomenon. A painful idea requires to be replaced by an opposite +or indifferent idea; and the agitation of the mind once calmed, the +senses become tranquil and are deadened by sleep. + +But this remedy, however excellent, might not be useful to every one. A +man of too keen and feeling a disposition would not succeed. The +temperament must be such as that with which nature has favored me. My +moral qualities bear a resemblance to my physical: I dread neither cold +nor heat, and I neither allow myself to be inflamed by rage nor +intoxicated by joy.... + +I am now arrived at the year 1787, which is the eightieth of my age, and +that to which I have limited the course of my Memoirs. I have completed +my eightieth year; my work is also finished. All is over, and I proceed +to send my volumes to the press. This last chapter does not therefore +touch on the events of the current year; but I have still some duties to +discharge. I must begin with returning thanks to those persons who have +reposed so much confidence in me as to honor me with their +subscriptions. + +I do not speak of the kindness and favors of the King and court; this is +not the place to mention them. I have named in my work some of my +friends and even some of my protectors. I beg pardon of them: if I have +done so without their permission, it is not through vanity; the occasion +has suggested it; their names have dropped from my pen, the heart has +seized on the instant, and the hand has not been unwilling. For example, +the following is one of the fortunate occasions I allude to. I was +unwell a few days ago; the Count Alfieri did me the honor to call on me; +I knew his talents, but his conversation impressed on me the wrong +which I should have done in omitting him. He is a very intelligent and +learned literary man, who principally excels in the art of Sophocles and +Euripides, and after these great models he has framed his tragedies. +They have gone through two editions in Italy, and are at present in the +press of Didot at Paris. I shall enter into no details respecting them, +as they may be seen and judged of by every one. + +During my convalescence M. Caccia, a banker in Paris, my friend and +countryman, sent me a book addressed to him from Italy for me. It was a +collection of French epigrams and madrigals, translated into Italian by +the Count Roncali, of the city of Brescia in the Venetian dominions. +This charming poet has merely translated the thoughts; he has said the +same things in fewer words, and he has fallen upon as brilliant and +striking points in his own language as those of his originals. + +I had the honor of seeing M. Roncali twelve years ago at Paris, and he +allows me to hope that I shall have the good fortune to see him again. +This is infinitely flattering to me; but I earnestly entreat him to make +haste, as my career is far advanced, and what is still worse, I am +extremely fatigued. I have undertaken too long and too laborious a work +for my age, and I have employed three years on it, always dreading lest +I should not have the pleasure of seeing it finished. However, I am +still in life, thanks to God, and I flatter myself that I shall see my +volumes printed, distributed, and read. If they be not praised, I hope +at least they will not be despised. I shall not be accused of vanity or +presumption in daring to hope for some share of favor for my Memoirs; +for had I thought that I should absolutely displease, I would not have +taken so much pains; and if in the good and ill which I say of myself, +the balance inclines to the favorable side, I owe more to nature than to +study. All the application employed by me in the construction of my +pieces has been that of not disfiguring nature, and all the care taken +by me in my Memoirs has been that of telling only the truth. The +criticism of my pieces may have the correction and improvement of comedy +in view; but the criticism of my Memoirs will be of no advantage to +literature. However, if any writer should think proper to employ his +time on me for the sole purpose of vexing me, he would lose his labor. +I am of a pacific disposition; I have always preserved my coolness of +character; at my age I read little, and I read only amusing books. + + + +THE CAFE + + [A few of the opening scenes from one of the popular Venetian + comedies are here given with occasional abridgment. They + illustrate the entirely practical theatrical skill of Goldoni's + plots, his rapid development of his characters, and the sound + morality which prevails without being aggressively prominent. + + The permanent scene represents a small open square in Venice, or + a rather wide street, with three shops. The middle one is in use + as a cafe. To the right is a barber's. The one on the left is a + gambling-house. Beyond the barber's, across a street, is seen + the dancers' house, and beyond the gamblers' a hotel with + practicable doors and windows.] + + + Ridolfo, _master of the cafe_, Trappolo, _a waiter, and other + waiters_ + +_Ridolfo_--Come, children, look alive, be wide awake, ready to serve the +guests civilly and properly. + +_Trappolo_--Master dear, to tell you the truth, this early rising +doesn't suit my complexion a bit. There's no one in sight. We could have +slept another hour yet. + +_Ridolfo_--They'll be coming presently. Besides, 'tis not so very early. +Don't you see? The barber is open, he's in his shop working on hair. And +look! the playing-house is open too. + +_Trappolo_--Oh, yes, indeed. The gambling-house has been open a good +bit. They've made a night of it. + +_Ridolfo_--Good. Master Pandolfo will have had a good profit. + +_Trappolo_--That dog always has good profit. He wins on the cards, he +profits by usury, he shares with the sharpers. He is sure of all the +money of whoever enters there. That poor Signor Eugenio--he has taken a +header! + +_Ridolfo_--Just look at him, how little sense he has! With a wife, a +young woman of grace and sense,--but he runs after every petticoat; and +then he plays like a madman. But come, go roast the coffee and make a +fresh supply. + +_Trappolo_--Shan't I warm over yesterday's supply? + +_Ridolfo_--No, make it good. + +_Trappolo_--Master has a short memory. How long since this shop opened? + +_Ridolfo_--You know very well. 'Tis about eight months. + +_Trappolo_--Then 'tis time for a change. + +_Ridolfo_--What do you mean by that? + +_Trappolo_--When a new shop opens, they make perfect coffee. After six +months,--hot water, thin broth. [_Exit._] + +_Ridolfo_--He's a wit. I'm in hopes he'll help the shop. To a shop where +there's a fun-maker every one goes. + + Pandolfo, _keeper of the gambling-house, comes in, rubbing his + eyes sleepily_ + +_Ridolfo_--Master Pandolfo, will you have coffee? + +_Pandolfo_--Yes, if you please. + +_Ridolfo_--Boys, serve coffee for Master Pandolfo. Be seated. Make +yourself comfortable. + +_Pandolfo_--No, no, I must drink it at once and get back to work. + +_Ridolfo_--Are they playing yet in the shop? + +_Pandolfo_--They are busy at two tables. + +_Ridolfo_--So early? + +_Pandolfo_--They are at it since yesterday. + +_Ridolfo_--What game? + +_Pandolfo_--An innocent game: "first and second" [_i.e._, faro]. + +_Ridolfo_--And how does it go? + +_Pandolfo_--For me it goes well. + +_Ridolfo_--Have you amused yourself playing too? + +_Pandolfo_--Yes, I took a little hand also. + +_Ridolfo_--Excuse me, my friend; I've no business to meddle in your +affairs, but--it doesn't look well when the master of the shop plays; +because if he loses he's laughed at, and if he wins he's suspected. + +_Pandolfo_--I am content if they haven't the laugh on me. As for the +rest, let them suspect as they please; I pay no attention. + +_Ridolfo_--Dear friend, we are neighbors; I shouldn't want you to get +into trouble. You know, by your play before you have brought up in the +court. + +_Pandolfo_--I'm easily satisfied. I won a pair of sequins, and wanted no +more. + +_Ridolfo_--That's right. Pluck the quail without making it cry out. From +whom did you win them? + +_Pandolfo_--A jeweler's boy. + +_Ridolfo_--Bad. Very bad. That tempts the boys to rob their masters. + +_Pandolfo_--Oh, don't moralize to me. Let the greenhorns stay at home. I +keep open for any one who wants to play. + +_Ridolfo_--And has Signor Eugenio been playing this past night? + +_Pandolfo_--He's playing yet. He hasn't dined, he hasn't slept, and he's +lost all his money. + +_Ridolfo_ [_aside_]--Poor young man! [_Aloud._] And how much has he +lost? + +_Pandolfo_--A hundred sequins in cash: and now he is playing on credit. + +_Ridolfo_--With whom is he playing? + +_Pandolfo_--With the count. + +_Ridolfo_--And whom else? + +_Pandolfo_--With him alone. + +_Ridolfo_--It seems to me an honest man shouldn't stand by and see +people assassinated. + +_Pandolfo_--Oho, my friend, if you're going to be so thin-skinned you'll +make little money. + +_Ridolfo_--I don't care for that. Till now I have been in service, and +did my duty honestly. I saved a few pennies, and with the help of my old +master, who was Signor Eugenio's father, you know, I have opened this +shop. With it I mean to live honorably and not disgrace my profession. + + [_People from the gambling-shop call "Cards!"_] + +_Pandolfo_ [_answering_]--At your service. + +_Ridolfo_--For mercy's sake, get poor Signor Eugenio away from the +table. + +_Pandolfo_--For all me, he may lose his shirt: I don't care. [_Starts +out._] + +_Ridolfo_--And the coffee--shall I charge it? + +_Pandolfo_--Not at all: we'll deal a card for it. + +_Ridolfo_--I'm no greenhorn, my friend. + +_Pandolfo_--Oh well, what does it matter? You know my visitors make +trade for you. I am surprised that you trouble yourself about these +little matters. [_Exit._] ... + + _A gentleman,_ Don Marzio, _enters_ + +_Ridolfo_ [_aside_]--Here is the man who never stops talking, and always +must have it his own way. + +_Marzio_--Coffee. + +_Ridolfo_--At once, sir. + +_Marzio_--What's the news, Ridolfo? + +_Ridolfo_--I couldn't say, sir. + +_Marzio_--Has no one appeared here at your cafe yet? + +_Ridolfo_--'Tis quite early still. + +_Marzio_--Early? It has struck nine already. + +_Ridolfo_--Oh no, honored sir, 'tis not seven yet. + +_Marzio_--Get away with your nonsense. + +_Ridolfo_--I assure you, it hasn't struck seven yet. + +_Marzio_--Get out, stupid. + +_Ridolfo_--You abuse me without reason, sir. + +_Marzio_--I counted the strokes just now, and I tell you it is nine. +Besides, look at my watch: it never goes wrong. [_Shows it._] + +_Ridolfo_--Very well, then; if your watch is never wrong,--it says a +quarter to seven. + +_Marzio_--What? That can't be. [_Takes out his eye-glass and looks._] + +_Ridolfo_--What do you say? + +_Marzio_--My watch is wrong. It is nine o'olock. I heard it. + +_Ridolfo_--Where did you buy that watch? + +_Marzio_--I ordered it from London. + +_Ridolfo_--They cheated you. + +_Marzio_--Cheated me? How so? It is the very first quality. + +_Ridolfo_--If it were a good one, it wouldn't be two hours wrong. + +_Marzio_--It is always exactly right. + +_Ridolfo_--But the watch says a quarter to seven, and you say it is +nine. + +_Marzio_--My watch is right. + +_Ridolfo_--Then it really is a little before seven, as I said. + +_Marzio_---You're an insolent fellow. My watch is right: you talk +foolishly, and I've half a mind to box your ears. [_His coffee is +brought._] + +_Ridolfo_ [_aside_]--Oh, what a beast! + +_Marzio_--Have you seen Signor Eugenio? + +_Ridolfo_--No, honored sir. + +_Marzio_--At home, of course, petting his wife. What an uxorious fellow! +Always a wife! Always a wife! [_Drinks his coffee._] + +_Ridolfo_--Anything but his wife. He's been gambling all night at +Pandolfo's. + +_Marzio_--Just as I tell you. Always gambling. + +_Ridolfo_ [_aside_]--"Always gambling," "Always his wife," "Always" the +Devil; I hope he'll catch him! + +_Marzio_--He came to me the other day in all secrecy, to beg me to lend +him ten sequins on a pair of earrings of his wife's. + +_Ridolfo_--Well, you know, every man is liable to have these little +difficulties; but they don't care to have them known, and that is +doubtless why he came to you, certain that you would tell no one. + +_Marzio_--Oh, I say nothing. I help all, and take no credit for it. See! +Here are his wife's earrings. I lent him ten sequins on them. Do you +think I am secured? + +_Ridolfo_--I'm no judge, but I think so. + +_Marzio_--Halloa, Trappolo. [_Trappolo enters._] Here; go to the +jeweler's yonder, show him these earrings of Signor Eugenio's wife, and +ask him for me if they are security for ten sequins that I lent him. + +_Trappolo_--And it doesn't harm Signor Eugenio to make his affairs +public? + +_Marzio_--I am a person with whom a secret is safe. [_Exit Trappolo._] +Say, Ridolfo, what do you know of that dancer over there? + +_Ridolfo_--I really know nothing about her. + +_Marzio_--I've been told the Count Leandro is her protector. + +_Ridolfo_--To be frank, I don't care much for other people's affairs. + +_Marzio_--But 'tis well to know things, to govern one's self +accordingly. She has been under his protection for some time now, and +the dancer's earnings have paid the price of the protection. Instead of +spending anything, he devours all the poor wretch has. Indeed, he forces +her to do what she should not. Oh, what a villain! + +_Ridolfo_--But I am here all day, and I can swear that no one goes to +her house except Leandro. + +_Marzio_--It has a back door. Fool! Fool! Always the back door. Fool! + +_Ridolfo_--I attend to my shop: if she has a back door, what is it to +me? I put my nose into no one's affairs. + +_Marzio_--Beast! Do you speak like that to a gentleman of my station? + + [This character of Don Marzio the slanderer is the most + effective one in the comedy. He finally brings upon himself + the bitterest ill-will of all the other characters, and feels + himself driven out of Venice, "a land in which all men live + at ease, all enjoy liberty, peace, and amusement, if only + they know how to be prudent, discreet, honorable."] + + Translated for 'A Library of the World's Best Literature,' + by William C. Lawton + + + + +MEIR AARON GOLDSCHMIDT + +(1819-1887) + +[Illustration: GOLDSCHMIDT] + + +In the first line of his memoirs Goldschmidt states that he was of "the +tribe of Levi," a fact of which he was never unconscious, and which has +given him his peculiar position in modern Danish literature as the +exponent of the family and social life of the orthodox Jew. Brandes +writes of Goldschmidt that: "In spite of his cosmopolitan spirit, he has +always loved two nationalities above all others and equally well,--the +Jewish and the Danish. He has looked upon himself as a sort of +noble-born bastard; and with the bat of the fable he has said +alternately to the mice, 'I am a mouse' and to the birds, 'I have +wings.' He has endeavored to give his answer to the questions of the +Jew's place in modern culture." + +Goldschmidt was born on the 26th of October, 1819. His early childhood +was spent partly in the country, in the full freedom of country life, +and partly in the city, where he was sent to school in preparation for +the professional career his father had planned for him, in preference to +a business life like his own. Goldschmidt took part in the religious +instruction of the school, at the same time observing the customs of the +Jewish ritual at home without a full understanding of its +meaning,--somewhat as he was taught to read Hebrew without being able to +translate a word of it into Danish. In the senior class his religious +instructor let him join in the Bible reading, but refused to admit him +to the catechism class; as a consequence he failed to answer a few +questions on his examination papers, and fell just short of a maximum. +This made him feel that he was ostracized by his Jewish birth, and put +an end to his desire for further academic studies. + +At the age of eighteen he began his journalistic career as editor of a +provincial paper, the care of which cost him a lawsuit and subjected him +to a year's censorship. Soon after, he sold the paper for two hundred +dollars, and with this money he started the Copenhagen weekly The +Corsair, which in no time gained a large reading public, and whose +Friday appearance was awaited with weekly increasing interest. The +editorials were given up to aesthetic and poetic discussions, and the +small matter treated the questions of the day with a pointed wit that +soon made The Corsair as widely feared as it was eagerly read. He had +reached only the third number when it was put under censorship, and +lawsuits followed in quick succession. Goldschmidt did not officially +assume the responsibility of editor, although it was an open secret that +he was author of most of the articles; publicly the blows were warded +off by pretended owners whose names were often changed. One of the few +men whom The Corsair left unattacked was Soeren Kierkegaard, for whose +literary and scholarly talents Goldschmidt had great respect. That The +Corsair was under the ban of the law, so to speak, and had brought him +even a four-days' imprisonment, was a small matter to Goldschmidt; but +when Kierkegaard passed a scathing moral judgment on the paper, +Goldschmidt sold out for four thousand dollars and started with this sum +on his travels, "to get rid of wit and learn something better." + +In 1847 he was again back in Copenhagen, and began life anew as editor +of North and South, a weekly containing excellent aesthetic and critical +studies, but mainly important on account of its social and political +influence. Already, in the time of The Corsair, Goldschmidt had begun +his work as novelist with 'A Jew,' written in 1843-45, and had taken +possession of the field which became his own. It was a promising book, +that met with immediate appreciation. Even Kierkegaard forgot for a +moment the editor of The Corsair in his praise. The Jews, however, +looked upon the descriptions of intimate Jewish family life somewhat as +a desecration of the Holy of Holies; and if broad-minded enough to +forgive this, thought it unwise to accentuate the Jew's position as an +element apart in social life. It argues a certain narrowness in +Goldschmidt that he has never been able to refrain from striking this +note, and Brandes blames him for the bad taste of "continually serving +his grandmother with sharp sauce." + +Goldschmidt wrote another long novel, 'Homeless'; but it is principally +in his shorter works, such as 'Love Stories from Many Countries' +'Maser,' and 'Avromche Nightingale,' that he has left a great and good +gift to Danish literature. The shorter his composition, the more perfect +was his treatment. He was above all a stylist. + +He always had a tendency to mysticism, and in his last years he was +greatly taken up with his theory of Nemesis, on which he wrote a book, +containing much that is suggestive but also much that is obviously the +result of the wish to make everything conform to a pet theory. His +lasting importance will be as the first and foremost influence on modern +Danish prose. + + + +ASSAR AND MIRJAM + +From 'Love Stories from Many Countries' + + +Assar, son of Juda, a valiant and jealous youth, came walking toward +Modin, when from one of the hills he saw a great sight on the plain. +Here warriors rode a chariot race in a great circle; many people stood +about, calling loudly to the drivers and the spirited horses. Yonder +were horsemen in golden armor, trying to catch rings on their spears; +and drums were beaten in honor of the winner. On the outskirts of the +plain was a little grove of olive-trees; it was not dense. In the grove +stood a nude woman hewn in marble; her hair was of gold and her eyes +were black, and young girls danced around her with garlands of flowers. + +Then Assar said:--"Woe unto us! These are Jewish maidens dancing around +the idol, and these are Greek men carrying arms on our holy ground and +playing at games as if they were in their home! and no Jewish man makes +the game dangerous for them!" + +He went down the hill and came to a thicket reaching down to a little +brook. On the other side of the brook stood a Greek centurion, a young +man, and he was talking to a girl, who stood on this side of the brook +on the edge of the thicket. + +The warrior said:--"Thou sayest that thy God forbids thee to go over +into the grove. What a dark and unfriendly God they have given thee, +beautiful child of Juda! He hates thy youth, and the joy of life, and +the roses which ought to crown thy black hair. My gods are of a +friendlier mind toward mortals. Every morning Apollo drives his glorious +span over the arch of the heavens and lights warriors to their deeds; +Selene's milder torch glows at night for lovers, and to those who have +worshiped her in this life beautiful Aphrodite gives eternal life on her +blessed isle. It is her statue standing in the grove. When thou givest +thyself under her protection she gives thee in return a hero for thy +faithful lover, and later on, graceful daughter of Juda, some god will +set thee with thy radiant eyes among the stars, to be a light to mortals +and a witness of the beauty of earthly love." + +The young girl might have answered; but at this moment Assar was near +her, and she knew him, and he saw that it was Mirjam, Rabbi Mattathew's +daughter,--the woman he loved, and who was his promised bride. She +turned and followed him; but the warrior on the other side of the brook +called out, "What right hast thou to lead this maiden away?" + +Assar replied, "I have no right." + +"Then why dost thou go with him, sweet daughter of Juda?" cried the +warrior. + +Mirjam did not answer, but Assar said, "Because she has not yet given up +serving her Master." + +"Who is her master?" asked the warrior. "I can buy thee freedom, my +beautiful child!" + +Assar replied, "I wish thou may'st see him."[E] + + [E] "Whoever sees God must die." + +The warrior, who could not cross the brook at this place, or anywhere +near it, called as they went away, "Tell me thy master's name!" + +Assar turned and answered, "I will beg him come to thee." + +A hill hid them from the eyes of the warrior, and Mirjam said, "Assar!" + +Assar replied, "Mirjam! I have never loved thee as dearly as I do +to-day--I do not know if it is a curse or a blessing which is in my +veins. Thou hast listened to the words of the heathen." + +"I listened to them because he spoke kindly; but I have not betrayed the +Lord nor thee." + +"Thou hast permitted his words to reach thy ear and thy soul." + +"What could I do, Assar? He spoke kindly." + +Assar stood still, and said to himself, "Yes, he spoke kindly. They do +speak kindly. And they spoke kind words to the poor girls who danced +around the idol in the grove. Had they spoken harsh and threatening +words, they would not have danced." + +Again he stood still, and said to himself, "If they came using force, +the rabbi would kill her and then himself, or she would throw herself +from a rock of her own free will. But who can set a guard to watch over +kind words?" + +The third time he stood still, and said, "O Israel, thou canst not bear +kind words!" + +Mirjam thought that he suspected her; and she stood still and said, "I +am a rabbi's daughter!" + +Assar replied, "O Mirjam, I am Assar, and I will be the son of my own +actions." + +"For God's sake," exclaimed Mirjam, "do not seek that warrior, and do +not enter into a quarrel with him! He will kill thee or have thee put +into prison. There is misery enough in Israel! The strangers have +entered our towns. Let us bend our heads and await the will of God, but +not challenge! Assar, I should die if anything happened to thee!" + +"And what would I do if anything happened to thee! My head swims! +Whither should I flee? Would thy father and thy brothers flee to the +wilds of the mountains?" + +"They have spoken of that. But there is no place to flee to and not much +to flee from; for although the heathen have taken gold and goods, yet +they are kind this time." + +Assar replied, "Oh yes, they are kind; I had almost forgotten it. +Mirjam, if I go away wilt thou believe, and go on believing, that I go +on God's errand?" + +"Assar, a dark look from thee is dearer to me than the kindest from any +heathen, and a word of thine is more to me than many witnesses. But do +not leave me! Stay and protect me!" + +"I go to protect thee! I go to the heights and to the depths to call +forth the God of Israel. Await his coming!" ... + +Assar went to the King, Antiochus Epiphanes, bent low before him, and +said, "May the Master of the world guide thy steps!" + +The King looked at him well pleased, and asked his name; whereupon Assar +answered that he was a man of the tribe of Juda. + +The King said, "Few of thy countrymen come to serve me!" + +Assar replied, "If thou wilt permit thy servant a bold word, King, the +fault is thine." + +And when the King, astonished, asked how this might be, Assar answered, +"Because thou art too kind, lord." + +The King turned to his adviser, and said laughingly, "When we took the +treasures of the temple in Jerusalem, they found it hard enough." + +"O King," said Assar, "silver and gold and precious stones can be +regained, and the Israelites know this; but thou lettest them keep that +which cannot be regained when once it is lost." + +The King answered quickly, "What is that?" and Assar replied:--"The +Israelites have a God, who is very powerful but also very jealous. He +has always helped them in the time of need if they held near to him and +did not worship strange gods; for this his jealousy will not bear. When +they do this he forsakes them. But thou, O King, hast taken their +silver and gold and jewels, but hast let them keep the God who gives it +all back to them. They know this; and so they smile at thee, and await +that thou shalt be thrown into the dust by him, and they will arise his +avengers, and persecute thy men." + +The King paled; he remembered his loss in Egypt, and he feared that if +the enemy pursued him he should find help in Israel; and he said, "What +ought we to do?" + +Assar replied: "If thou wilt permit thy servant to utter his humble +advice, thou shouldst use severity and forbid their praying to the God +they call Jehovah, and order them to pray to thy gods." + +The King's adviser looked at Assar and asked, "Hast thou offered up +sacrifice to our gods?" + +Assar replied, "I am ready." + +They led him to the altar, and on the way thither Assar said:--"Lord, +all-powerful God! Thou who seest the heart and not alone the deeds of +the hand, be my witness! It is written: 'And it shall happen in that +same hour that I shall wipe out the name of idols out of the land, and +they shall be remembered no more, and the unclean spirit shall I cause +to depart from the country.' Do thou according to thy word, O Lord! +Amen!" + +When the sacrifice was brought, Assar was dressed in festive robes on +the word of the King, and a place was given him among the King's +friends, and orders were sent out throughout the country, according to +what he had said. + +And to Modin too came the King's messenger; and when the rabbi heard of +it, he went with his five sons to the large prayer-house, and read +maledictions over those who worshiped idols and blessings over those who +were faithful to Jehovah. And those who were present noticed that the +rabbi's eldest son, Judas Maccabaeus, carried a sword under his mantle. + +And when they came out of the prayer-house they saw that a heathen altar +had been built, and there was a Jew making his sacrifice; and when Rabbi +Mattathew saw this, he hastened to the spot and seized the knife of +sacrifice and thrust it into the Jew's breast. The centurion who stood +by, and who was the same that had previously talked to Mirjam the +rabbi's daughter at the brook, would kill the rabbi; but Judas Maccabaeus +drew his sword quickly, and struck the centurion in the throat and +killed him. Then the King's men gathered; but the street was narrow, +and Judas Maccabaeus went last and shielded all, until the night came and +they had got their women together and could flee to the mountains. And +then began the fight of the men of Juda against the Macedonians, the +Greeks, and the Assyrians, and they killed those of the King's men who +pursued them into the mountains. + +Then King Antiochus the temple-robber said to Assar, "This is thy +advice!" to which Assar replied: "No, King; this is the advice of thy +warriors, since they allow the rebels to escape and do not treat them +without mercy. For this know, O King, that so long as thou art merciful +to this people there is no hope." + +Then there were issued strict orders to torture and kill all who refused +to obey the King's command; and all those in Israel in whom Jehovah was +still living rose to fight with Mattathew and his sons, and men and +women, yea, children even, were moved to suffer death for the Lord and +his law. + +But at this time it happened that King Antiochus the temple-destroyer +was visited by his shameful disease, and he sent messengers with rich +gifts to all oracles and temples to seek help; but they could find none. + +Then he said to Assar, "Thou saidst once that the God of Israel was a +mighty God; could not _he_ cure me of my disease?" + +Assar replied: "I have indeed heard from my childhood that the God of +Israel is a mighty God; but O King, thou wilt not give in to that hard +people and make peace with their God?" + +The King answered, "I must live! How can he be pacified?" + +Assar said, "It is too heavy a sacrifice for so great a king as thee. +Their wise men assert that God has given them the country for a +possession, and it would be necessary for thee not only to allow them to +worship their God, but also to call back thy men and make a covenant +with them so that they should merely pay a tribute to thee. But this is +more than I can advise." + +The King answered, "Much does a man give for his life. Dost thou believe +that he is a great God?" + +"I have seen a great proof of it, lord." + +"What is that?" + +"This: that even a greatness like thine was as nothing to his." + +"It is not a dishonor to be smaller than the Immortals. Go and prepare +all, according to what we have spoken." + +Then Assar prepared all and had the King's men called back, and promised +the inhabitants peace and led the King on his way to Jerusalem; and they +passed by Modin. + +And the King's sufferings being very great, he had himself carried into +the house of prayers, before the holy, and he prayed to the God of +Israel. And the men of Juda stood around him; they stood high and he lay +low, and they had saved their souls. + +But when the King was carried out, one of the Maccabaean warriors +recognized Assar and cried out, "Thou hast offered up sacrifices to +idols, and from thee have come the evil counsels which have cost +precious blood! Thou shalt be wiped off the earth!" + +He drew his sword and aimed at him, but Mirjam, who had come up, threw +herself between them with the cry, "He called forth Israel's God!" And +the steel which was meant for him pierced her. + + Translated for 'A Library of the World's Best Literature,' + by Olga Flinch. + + + + +[Illustration: O. GOLDSMITH.] + + + + +OLIVER GOLDSMITH + +(1728-1774) + +BY CHARLES MILLS GAYLEY + + +Oliver Goldsmith was born at Pallas, County Longford, Ireland, November +10th, 1728. That was the year in which Pope issued his 'Dunciad,' Gay +his 'Beggar's Opera,' and Thomson his 'Spring.' Goldsmith's father was a +clergyman of the Established Church. In 1730 the family removed to +Lissoy, a better living than that of Pallas. Oliver's school days in and +around Westmeath were unsatisfactory; so also his course at Trinity, +1744 to 1749. For the next two years he loafed at Ballymahon, living on +his mother, then a widow, and making vain attempts to take orders, to +teach, to enter a law course, to sail for America. He was a bad +sixpence. Finally his uncle Contarine, who saw good stuff in the +awkward, ugly, humorous, and reckless youth, got him off to Edinburgh, +where he studied medicine till 1754. + +In 1754 he is studying, or pretending to study, at Leyden. In 1755 and +1756 he is singing, fluting, and otherwise "beating" his way through +Europe, whence he returns with a mythical M. B. degree. From 1756 to +1759 he is in London, teaching, serving an apothecary, practicing +medicine, reading proof, writing as a hack, planning to practice surgery +in Coromandel, failing to qualify as a hospital mate, and in general +only not starving. In 1759 Dr. Percy finds him in Green Arbor Court amid +a colony of washerwomen, writing an 'Enquiry into the Present State of +Polite Learning in Europe.' Next follows the appearance of that work, +and his acquaintance with publishers and men of letters. In 1761, with +Percy, comes Johnson to visit him. In 1764 Goldsmith is one of the +members of the famous Literary Club, where he counts among his friends, +besides Percy and Johnson, Reynolds, Boswell, Garrick, Burke, and others +who shone with their own or reflected light. The rest of his life, spent +principally in or near London, is associated with his literary career. +He died April 4th, 1774, and was buried near the Temple Church. + +Goldsmith was an essayist and critic, a story-writer, a poet, a comic +dramatist, and a literary drudge: the last all the time, the others +"between whiles." His drudgery produced such works as the 'Memoirs of +Voltaire,' the 'Life of Nash,' two Histories of England, Histories of +Rome and Greece, Lives of Parnell and Bolingbroke. The 'History of +Animated Nature' was undertaken as an industry, but it reads, as Johnson +said, "like a Persian tale,"--and of course, the more Persian the less +like nature. For the prose of Goldsmith writing for a suit of clothes or +for immortality is all of a piece, inimitable. "Nothing," says he, in +his 'Essay on Taste,' "has been so often explained, and yet so little +understood, as simplicity in writing.... It is no other than beautiful +nature, without affectation or extraneous ornament." + +This ingenuous elegance is the accent of Goldsmith's work in verse and +prose. It is nature improved, not from without but by exquisite and +esoteric art, the better to prove its innate virtue and display its +artless charm. Such a style is based upon a delicate "sensibility to the +graces of natural and moral beauty and decorum." Hence the ideographic +power, the directness, the sympathy, the lambent humor that characterize +the 'Essays,' the 'Vicar,' the 'Deserted Village,' and 'She Stoops to +Conquer.' This is the "plain language of ancient faith and sincerity" +that, pretending to no novelty, renovated the prose of the eighteenth +century, knocked the stilts from under Addison and Steele, tipped half +the Latinity out of Johnson, and readjusted his ballast. Goldsmith goes +without sprawling or tiptoeing; he sails without rolling. He borrows the +carelessness but not the ostentation of the Spectator; the dignity but +not the ponderosity of 'Rasselas'; and produces the prose of natural +ease, the sweetest English of the century. It in turn prefaced the way +for Charles Lamb, Hunt, and Sydney Smith. "It were to be wished that we +no longer found pleasure with the inflated style," writes Goldsmith in +his 'Polite Learning.' "We should dispense with loaded epithet and +dressing up trifles with dignity.... Let us, instead of writing finely, +try to write naturally; not hunt after lofty expressions to deliver mean +ideas, nor be forever gaping when we only mean to deliver a whisper." + +Just this naturalness constitutes the charm of the essay on 'The Bee' +(1759), and of the essays collected in 1765. We do not read him for +information: whether he knows more or less of his subject, whether he +writes of Charles XII., or Dress, The Opera, Poetry, or Education, we +read him for simplicity and humor. Still, his critical estimates, while +they may not always square with ours, evince not only good sense and +aesthetic principle, but a range of reading not at all ordinary. When he +condemns Hamlet's great soliloquy we may smile, but in judicial respect +for the father of our drama he yields to none of his contemporaries. The +selections that he includes in his 'Beauties of English Poetry' would +argue a conventional taste; but in his 'Essay on Poetry Distinguished +from the Other Arts,' he not only defines poetry in terms that might +content the Wordsworthians, he also to a certain extent anticipates +Wordsworth's estimate of poetic figures. + +While he makes no violent breach with the classical school, he +prophesies the critical doctrine of the nineteenth century. He calls for +the "energetic language of simple nature, which is now grown into +disrepute." "If the production does not keep nature in view, it will be +destitute of truth and probability, without which the beauties of +imitation cannot subsist." Still he by no means falls into the quagmire +of realism. For, continues he, "if on the other hand the imitation is so +close as to be mistaken for nature, the pleasure will then cease, +because the [Greek: mimesis] or imitation, no longer appears." + +Even when wrong, Goldsmith is generally half-way right; and this is +especially true of the critical judgments contained in his first +published book. The impudence of 'The Enquiry' (1759) is delicious. What +this young Irishman, fluting it through Europe some five years before, +had _not_ learned about the 'Condition of Polite Learning' in its +principal countries, might fill a ponderous folio. What he did learn, +eked out with harmless misstatement, flashes of inspiration, and a +clever argument to prove that criticism has always been the foe of +letters, managed to fill a respectable duodecimo, and brought him to the +notice of publishers and scholars. + +The essay has catholicity, independence, and wit, and it carries itself +with whimsical ease. Every sentence steps out sprightly. Of the French +Encyclopedies: "Wits and dunces contribute their share, and Diderot as +well as Desmaretz are candidates for oblivion. The genius of the first +supplies the gale of favor, and the latter adds the useful ballast of +stupidity." Of the Germans: "They write through volumes, while they do +not think through a page.... Were angels to write books, they never +would write folios." And again: "If criticism could have improved the +taste of a people, the Germans would have been the most polite nation +alive." That settles the Encyclopedias and the Germans. So each +nationality is sententiously reviewed and dismissed with an epigram that +even to-day sounds not altogether unjust, rather amusing and urbane than +acrimonious. + +But it was not until Goldsmith began the series of letters in the Public +Ledger (1760), that was afterwards published as 'The Citizen of the +World' that he took London. These letters purport to be from a +philosophic Chinaman in Europe to his friends at home. Grave, gay, +serene, ironical, they were at once an amusing image and a genial censor +of current manners and morals. They are no less creative than critical; +equally classic for the characters they contain: the Gentleman in Black, +Beau Tibbs and his wife, the pawnbroker's widow, Tim Syllabub, and the +procession of minor personages, romantic or ridiculous, but +unique,--equally classic for these characters and for the satire of the +conception. These are Goldsmith's best sketches. Though the prose is not +always precise, it seems to be clear, and is simple. The writer cares +more for the judicious than the sublime; for the quaint, the comic, and +the agreeable than the pathetic. He chuckles with sly laughter--genial, +sympathetic; he looses his arrow phosphorescent with wit, but not +barbed, dipped in something subacid,--straight for the heart. Not Irving +alone, but Thackeray, stands in line of descent from the Goldsmith of +the 'Citizen.' + +'The Traveller,' polished _ad unguem_, appeared in 1764, and placed +Goldsmith in the first rank of poets then living; but of that later. +There is good reason for believing that his masterpiece in prose, 'The +Vicar of Wakefield,' had been written as early as 1762, although it was +not published until 1766. It made Goldsmith's mark as a storyteller. One +can readily imagine how, after the grim humor of Smollett, the broad and +_risque_ realism of Fielding, the loitering of Sterne, and the +moralizing of Richardson, the public would seize with a sense of relief +upon this unpretentious chronicle of a country clergyman's life: his +peaceful home, its ruin, its restoration. Not because the narrative was +quieter and simpler, shorter and more direct than other narratives, but +because to its humor, realism, grace, and depth it added the charity of +First Corinthians Thirteenth. England soon discovered that the borders +of the humanities had been extended; that the Vicar and his "durable" +wife, Moses, Olivia with the prenatal tendency to romance, Sophia, the +graceless Jenkinson,--the habit and temper of the whole,--were a new +province. The prose idyl, with all its beauty and charity, does not +entitle Goldsmith to rank with the great novelists; but of its kind, in +spite of faults of inaccuracy, improbability, and impossibility, it is +first and best. Goethe read and re-read it with moral and aesthetic +benefit; and the spirit of Goldsmith is not far to seek in 'Hermann and +Dorothea.' 'The Vicar' is perhaps the most popular of English classics +in foreign lands. + +In poetry, if Goldsmith did not write much, it was for lack of +opportunity. What he did write is good, nearly all of it. The philosophy +of 'The Traveller' (1764) and the political economy of 'The Deserted +Village' (1770) may be dubious, but the poetry is true. There is in both +a heartiness which discards the formalized emotion, prefers the touch of +nature and the homely adjective. The characteristic is almost feminine +in the description of Auburn: "_Dear_ lovely bowers"; it is inevitable, +artless, in 'The Traveller': "His first, best country ever is at home." +But on the other hand, the _curiosa felicitas_ marks every line, the +nice selection of just the word or phrase richest in association, +redolent of tradition, harmonious, classically proper, but still +natural, true, and apt. "My heart untravell'd fondly turns to thee"--not +a word but is hearty; and for all that, the line is stamped with the +academic authority of centuries: "Coelum, non animum mutant, qui trans +mare currunt." Both poems are characterized by the infrequency of +epithet and figure,--the infrequency that marks sincerity and that +heightens pleasure,--and by a cunning in the use of proper names, +resonant, remote, suggestive: "On Idra's cliffs or Arno's shelvy +side,"--the cunning of a musical poem. Both poems vibrate with +personality, recall the experience of the writer. It would be hard to +choose between them; but 'The Deserted Village' strikes the homelier +chord, comes nearer, with its natural pathos, its sidelong smile, and +its perennial novelty, to the heart of him who knows. + +Goldsmith is less eloquent but more natural than Dryden, less precise +but more simple than Pope. In poetic sensibility he has the advantage of +both. Were the volume of his verse not so slight, were his conceptions +more sublime, and their embodiment more epic or dramatic, he might rank +with the greatest of his century. As it is, in imaginative insight he +has no superior in the eighteenth century; in observation, pathos, +representative power, no equal: Dryden, Pope, Gray, Thomson, +Young,--none but Collins approaches him. The reflective or descriptive +poem can of course not compete with the drama, epic, or even lyric of +corresponding merit in its respective kind. But Goldsmith's poems are +the best of their kind, better than all but the best in other kinds. His +conception of life is more generous and direct, hence truer and gentler, +than that of the Augustan age. Raising no revolt against classical +principles, he rejects the artifices of decadent classicism, returns to +nature, and expresses _it_ simply. He is consequently in this respect +the harbinger of Cowper, Crabbe, Bloomfield, Clare, Wordsworth, and +Coleridge. In technique also he breaks away from Pope. His larger +movement, his easier modulation, his richer tone, his rarer epithet and +epigram, his metaphor "glowing from the heart," mark the defection from +the poetry of cold conceit. + +For lack of space we can only refer to the romantic quality of his +ballad 'Edwin and Angelina' (1765), the spontaneous humor of 'The Haunch +of Venison,' and the exquisite satire of 'Retaliation' (1774). + +To appreciate the historical position of Goldsmith's comedies, one must +regard them as a reaction against the school that had held the stage +since the beginning of the century--a "genteel" and "sentimental" +school, fearing to expose vice or ridicule absurdity. But Goldsmith felt +that absurdity was the comic poet's game. Reverting therefore to +Farquhar and the Comedy of Manners, he revived that species, at the same +time infusing a strain of the "humors" of the tribe of Ben. Hence the +approbation that welcomed his first comedy, and the applause that +greeted the second. For 'The Good-natured Man' (1768) and 'She Stoops to +Conquer' (1773) did by example what Hugh Kelly's 'Piety in Pattens' +aimed to do by ridicule,--ousted the hybrid comedy (tradesman's tragedy, +Voltaire called it) of which 'The Conscious Lovers' had been the most +tolerable specimen, and 'The School for Lovers' the most decorous and +dull. + +But "Goldy" had not only the gift of weighing the times, he had the gift +of the popular dramatist. His _dramatis personae_ are on the one hand +nearly all legitimate descendants of the national comedy, though none is +a copy from dramatic predecessors; on the other hand, they are in every +instance "imitations" of real life, more than once of some aspect of his +own life; but none is so close an imitation as to detract from the +pleasure which fiction should afford. The former quality makes his +characters look familiar; the latter, true. So he accomplishes the feat +most difficult for the dramatist: while idealizing the individual in +order to realize the type, he does not for a moment lose the sympathy of +his audience. + +Even in his earlier comedy these two characteristics are manifest. In +the world of drama, young Honeywood is the legitimate descendant of +Massinger's Wellborn on the one side, and of Congreve's Valentine Legend +on the other, with a more distant collateral resemblance to Ben Jonson's +Younger Knowell. But in the field of experience this "Good-natured Man" +is that aspect of "Goldy" himself which, when he was poorest, made him +not so poor but that Irishmen poorer still could live on him; that +aspect of the glorious "idiot in affairs" which could make to the Earl +of Northumberland, willing to be kind, no other suggestion of his wants +than that he had a _brother_ in Ireland, "poor, a clergyman, and much in +need of help." Similarly might those rare creations Croaker and Jack +Lofty be traced to their predecessors in the field of drama, even though +remote. That they had their analogies in the life of Goldsmith, and have +them in the lives of others, it is unnecessary to prove. But graphic as +these characters are, they cannot make of 'The Good-natured Man' more +than a passable second to 'She Stoops to Conquer.' For the premises of +the plot are absurd, if not impossible; the complication is not much +more natural than that of a Punch-and-Judy show, and the denouement but +one shade less improbable than that of 'The Vicar of Wakefield.' The +value of the play is principally historical, not aesthetic. + +Congreve's 'Love for Love,' Vanbrugh's 'Relapse, Farquhar's 'Beaux' +Stratagem,' Goldsmith's 'She Stoops to Conquer,' and Sheridan's 'School +for Scandal,' are the best comedies written since Jonson, Fletcher, and +Massinger held the stage. In plot and diction 'She Stoops to Conquer' is +equaled by Congreve; in character-drawing by Vanbrugh; in dramatic ease +by Farquhar, in observation and wit by Sheridan: but by none is it +equaled in humor, and in naturalness of dialogue it is _facile +princeps_. Here again the characterization presents the twofold charm of +universality and reality. Young Marlow is the traditional lover of the +type of Young Bellair, Mirabell, and Aimwell, suggesting each in turn +but different from all; he is also, in his combination of embarrassment +and impudence, not altogether unlike the lad Oliver who, years ago, on a +journey back to school, had mistaken Squire Featherstone's house in +Ardagh for an inn. + +A similar adjustment of dramatic type and historic individual +contributes to the durability of Tony Lumpkin. In his _dramatis persona_ +he is a practical joker of the family of Diccon and Truewit, and first +cousin on the Blenkinsop side to that horse-flesh Sir Harry Beagle. But +Anthony is more than the practical joker or the squire booby: he is a +near relative of Captain O'Blunder and that whole countryside of +generous, touch-and-go Irishmen; while in reality, _in propria persona_, +he is that aspect of Noll Goldsmith that "lived the buckeen" in +Ballymahon. Of the other characters of the play, Hardcastle, Mrs. +Hardcastle, and Kate have a like prerogative of immortality. They are +royally descended and personally unique. + +The comedy has been absurdly called farcical. There is much less of the +farcical than in many a so-called "legitimate" comedy. None of the +circumstances are purely fortuitous; none unnecessary. Humor and caprice +tend steadily to complicate the action, and by natural interaction +prepare the way for the denouement. The misunderstandings are the more +piquant because of their manifest irony and their ephemeral character. +Indeed, if any fault is to be found with the play, it is that Goldsmith +did not let it resolve itself without the assistance of Sir Charles +Marlow. + +One peculiarity not yet mentioned is illustrative of Goldsmith's method. +A system of mutual borrowing characterizes his works. The same thought, +in the same or nearly the same language, occurs in half a dozen. 'The +Enquiry' lends a phrase to 'The Citizen,' who passes it on to the +'Vicar,' who, thinking it too good to keep, hands it over to the +'Good-natured Man,' whence it is borrowed by 'She Stoops to Conquer,' +and turned to look like new,--like a large family of sisters with a +small wardrobe in common. This habit does not indicate poverty of +invention in Goldsmith, but associative imagination and artistic +conservatism. + +Goldsmith was the only Irish story-writer and poet of his century. Four +Irishmen adorned the prose of the period: Goldsmith is as eminent in the +natural style as Swift in the satiric, or Steele in the polished, or +Burke in the grand. In comedy the Irish led; but Steele, Macklin, +Murphy, Kelly, do not compare with Farquhar, Sheridan, and Goldsmith. +The worst work of these is good, and their best is the best of the +century. + +Turning to Goldsmith the man, what the "draggle-tail Muses" paid him we +find him spending on dress and rooms and jovial magnificence, on +relatives or countrymen or the unknown poor, with such freedom that he +is never relieved of the necessity of drudgery. Still, sensitive, +good-natured, improvident, Irish,--and a genius,--Goldsmith lived as +happy a life as his disposition would allow. He had the companionship of +congenial friends, the love of men like Johnson and Reynolds, the final +assurance that his art was appreciated by the public. To be sure, he was +never out of debt, but that was his own fault; he was never out of +credit either. "Was there ever poet so trusted?" exclaimed Johnson, +after this poet had got beyond reach of his creditors. His difficulties +however affected him as they affect most Irishmen,--only by cataclysms. +He was serene or wretched, but generally the former: he packed _noctes +coenaeque deum_ by the dozen into his life. "There is no man," said +Reynolds, "whose company is more liked." But maybe that was because his +naivete, his brogue, his absent-mindedness, and his blunders (real or +apparent) made him a ready butt for ridicule, not at the hands of +Reynolds or Johnson, but of Beauclerk and the rest. For though his humor +was sly, and his wit inimitable, Goldsmith's conversation was queer. It +seemed to go by contraries. If permitted, he would ramble along in his +hesitating, inconsequential fashion, on any subject under heaven--"too +eager," thought Johnson, "to get on without knowing how he should get +off." But if ignored, he would sit silent and apart,--sulking, thought +Boswell. In fact, both the Dictator and laird of Auchinleck were of a +mind that he tried too much to shine in conversation, for which he had +no temper. But "Goldy's" _bons-mots_--such as the "Forsitan et nostrum +nomen miscebitur _istis_" to Johnson, as they passed under the heads on +Temple Bar,--make it evident that Garrick, with his + + "Here lies Poet Goldsmith, for shortness called Noll, + Who wrote like an angel, but talked like poor Poll," + +and most of the members of the Literary Club, did not understand their +Irishman. A timidity born of rough experience may have occasionally +oppressed, a sensitiveness to ridicule or indifference may have confused +him, a desire for approbation may frequently have led him to speak when +silence had been golden; but that his conversation was "foolish" is the +judgment of Philistines who make conversation an industry, not an +amusement or an art. + +Boswell himself recounts more witty sayings than incomprehensible. And +the "incomprehensible" are so only to Boswells and Hawkinses, who can +hardly be expected to appreciate a humor, the vein of which is a mockery +of their own solemn stupidity. Probably Goldsmith did say unconsidered +things; he liked to think aloud in company, to "rattle on" for +diversion. Keenly alive to the riches of language, he was the more +likely to feel the embarrassment of impromptu selection; and while he +was too much of a genius to keep count of every pearl, he was too +considerate of his fellows to cast pearls only. But most of his fellows +(Reynolds excepted) appreciated neither his drollery nor his +unselfishness,--had not been educated up to the type of Irishman that +with an artistic love of fun, is ever ready to promote the gayety of +nations by sacrificing itself in the interest of laughter. For none but +an artist can, without cracking a smile, offer up his wit on the altar +of his humor. + +Prior describes Goldsmith as something under the middle size, sturdy, +active, apparently capable of endurance; pale, forehead and upper lip +rather projecting, face round, pitted with small-pox, and marked with +strong lines of thinking. But Reynolds's painting idealizes and +therefore best expresses the man, his twofold nature: on the one hand, +self-depreciatory, generous, and improvident; on the other, aspiring, +hungry for approval, laborious. Just such a man as would gild poverty +with a smile, decline patronage and force his last sixpence on a +street-singer, pile Pelion on Ossa for his publishers and turn out +cameos for art. + + [Signature: Charles Mills Gayley] + + + +THE VICAR'S FAMILY BECOME AMBITIOUS + +From 'The Vicar of Wakefield' + + +I now began to find that all my long and painful lectures upon +temperance, simplicity, and contentment were entirely disregarded. The +distinctions lately paid us by our betters awakened that pride which I +had laid asleep, but not removed. Our windows again, as formerly, were +filled with washes for the neck and face. The sun was dreaded as an +enemy to the skin without doors, and the fire as a spoiler of the +complexion within. My wife observed that rising too early would hurt her +daughters' eyes, that working after dinner would redden their noses, +and she convinced me that the hands never looked so white as when they +did nothing. Instead therefore of finishing George's shirts, we now had +them new-modeling their old gauzes, or flourishing upon catgut. The poor +Miss Flamboroughs, their former gay companions, were cast off as mean +acquaintance, and the whole conversation ran upon high life and +high-lived company, with pictures, taste, Shakespeare, and the musical +glasses. + +But we could have borne all this, had not a fortune-telling gypsy come +to raise us into perfect sublimity. The tawny sibyl no sooner appeared +than my girls came running to me for a shilling apiece, to cross her +hand with silver. To say the truth, I was tired of being always wise, +and could not help gratifying their request, because I loved to see them +happy. I gave each of them a shilling, though for the honor of the +family it must be observed that they never went without money +themselves, as my wife always generously let them have a guinea each to +keep in their pockets, but with strict injunctions never to change it. +After they had been closeted up with the fortune-teller for some time, I +knew by their looks, upon their returning, that they had been promised +something great. "Well, my girls, how have you sped? Tell me, Livy, has +the fortune-teller given thee a penny-worth?" "I protest, papa," says +the girl, "I believe she deals with somebody that is not right, for she +positively declared that I am to be married to a squire in less than a +twelvemonth!" "Well now, Sophy, my child," said I, "and what sort of a +husband are you to have?" "Sir," replied she, "I am to have a lord soon +after my sister has married the squire." "How," cried I, "is that all +you are to have for your two shillings? Only a lord and a squire for two +shillings! You fools, I could have promised you a prince and a nabob for +half the money!" + +This curiosity of theirs, however, was attended with very serious +effects: we now began to think ourselves designed by the stars to +something exalted, and already anticipated our future grandeur. + + * * * * * + +It has been a thousand times observed, and I must observe it once more, +that the hours we pass with happy prospects in view are more pleasing +than those crowned with fruition. In the first case we cook the dish to +our own appetite; in the latter, nature cooks it for us. It is +impossible to repeat the train of agreeable reveries we called up for +our entertainment. We looked upon our fortunes as once more rising; and +as the whole parish asserted that the Squire was in love with my +daughter, she was actually so with him, for they persuaded her into the +passion. In this agreeable interval my wife had the most lucky dreams in +the world, which she took care to tell us every morning with great +solemnity and exactness. It was one night a coffin and cross-bones, the +sign of an approaching wedding; at another time she imagined her +daughter's pockets filled with farthings, a certain sign of their being +shortly stuffed with gold. The girls themselves had their omens. They +felt strange kisses on their lips; they saw rings in the candle; purses +bounced from the fire, and true-love knots lurked in the bottom of every +teacup. + +Towards the end of the week we received a card from the town ladies, in +which, with their compliments, they hoped to see all our family at +church the Sunday following. All Saturday morning I could perceive, in +consequence of this, my wife and daughters in close conference together, +and now and then glancing at me with looks that betrayed a latent plot. +To be sincere, I had strong suspicions that some absurd proposal was +preparing for appearing with splendor the next day. In the evening they +began their operations in a very regular manner, and my wife undertook +to conduct the siege. After tea, when I seemed in spirits, she began +thus: "I fancy, Charles my dear, we shall have a great deal of good +company at our church to-morrow." "Perhaps we may, my dear," returned I; +"though you need be under no uneasiness about that; you shall have a +sermon whether there be or not." "That is what I expect," returned she; +"but I think, my dear, we ought to appear there as decently as possible, +for who knows what may happen?" "Your precautions," replied I, "are +highly commendable. A decent behavior and appearance in church is what +charms me. We should be devout and humble, cheerful and serene." "Yes," +cried she, "I know that; but I mean we should go there in as proper a +manner as possible; not altogether like the scrubs about us." "You are +quite right, my dear," returned I; "and I was going to make the very +same proposal. The proper manner of going is to go there as early as +possible, to have time for meditation before the service begins." "Phoo, +Charles!" interrupted she; "all that is very true, but not what I would +be at. I mean we should go there genteelly. You know the church is two +miles off, and I protest I don't like to see my daughters trudging up to +their pew all blowzed and red with walking, and looking for all the +world as if they had been winners at a smock-race. Now, my dear, my +proposal is this: there are our two plow-horses, the colt that has been +in our family these nine years, and his companion Blackberry that has +scarcely done an earthly thing this month past. They are both grown fat +and lazy. Why should not they do something as well as we? And let me +tell you, when Moses has trimmed them a little they will cut a very +tolerable figure." + +To this proposal I objected that walking would be twenty times more +genteel than such a paltry conveyance, as Blackberry was wall-eyed and +the colt wanted a tail; that they had never been broke to the rein, but +had a hundred vicious tricks; and that we had but one saddle and pillion +in the whole house. All these objections however were overruled; so that +I was obliged to comply. The next morning I perceived them not a little +busy in collecting such materials as might be necessary for the +expedition, but as I found it would be a business of time, I walked on +to the church before, and they promised speedily to follow. I waited +near an hour in the reading-desk for their arrival, but not finding them +come as I expected, I was obliged to begin, and went through the +service, not without some uneasiness at finding them absent. This was +increased when all was finished, and no appearance of the family. I +therefore walked back by the horse-way, which was five miles round, +though the foot-way was but two, and when I got about half-way home, +perceived the procession marching slowly forward towards the church; my +son, my wife, and the two little ones exalted upon one horse, and my two +daughters upon the other. I demanded the cause of their delay; but I +soon found by their looks they had met with a thousand misfortunes on +the road. The horses had at first refused to move from the door, till +Mr. Burchell was kind enough to beat them forward for about two hundred +yards with his cudgel. Next, the straps of my wife's pillion broke down, +and they were obliged to stop to repair them before they could proceed. +After that, one of the horses took it into his head to stand still, and +neither blows nor entreaties could prevail with him to proceed. They +were just recovering from this dismal situation when I found them; but +perceiving everything safe, I own their present mortification did not +much displease me, as it would give me many opportunities of future +triumph, and teach my daughters more humility. + +Michaelmas Eve happening on the next day, we were invited to burn nuts +and play tricks at neighbor Flamborough's. Our late mortifications had +humbled us a little, or it is probable we might have rejected such an +invitation with contempt; however, we suffered ourselves to be happy. +Our honest neighbor's goose and dumplings were fine, and the lamb's +wool, even in the opinion of my wife, who was a connoisseur, was +excellent. It is true his manner of telling stories was not quite so +well; they were very long and very dull, and all about himself, and we +had laughed at them ten times before; however, we were kind enough to +laugh at them once more. + +Mr. Burchell, who was of the party, was always fond of seeing some +innocent amusement going forward, and set the boys and girls to +blindman's buff. My wife too was persuaded to join in the diversion, and +it gave me pleasure to think she was not yet too old. In the mean time +my neighbor and I looked on, laughed at every feat, and praised our own +dexterity when we were young. Hot cockles succeeded next, questions and +commands followed that, and last of all they sat down to hunt the +slipper. As every person may not be acquainted with this primeval +pastime, it may be necessary to observe that the company at this play +planted themselves in a ring upon the ground, all except one, who stands +in the middle, whose business it is to catch a shoe which the company +shove about under their hams from one to another, something like a +weaver's shuttle. As it is impossible in this case for the lady who is +up to face all the company at once, the great beauty of the play lies in +hitting her a thump with the heel of the shoe on that side least capable +of making a defense. It was in this manner that my eldest daughter was +hemmed in and thumped about, all blowzed in spirits, and bawling for +fair play with a voice that might deafen a ballad-singer, when, +confusion on confusion! who should enter the room but our two great +acquaintances from town, Lady Blarney and Miss Carolina Wilhelmina +Amelia Skeggs! Description would but beggar, therefore it is unnecessary +to describe this new mortification. Death! To be seen by ladies of such +high breeding in such vulgar attitudes! Nothing better could ensue from +such a vulgar play of Mr. Flamborough's proposing. We seemed stuck to +the ground for some time, as if actually petrified with amazement. + +The two ladies had been at our house to see us, and finding us from +home, came after us hither, as they were uneasy to know what accident +could have kept us from church the day before. Olivia undertook to be +our prolocutor, and delivered the whole in the summary way, only saying, +"We were thrown from our horses." At which account the ladies were +greatly concerned; but being told the family received no hurt, they were +extremely glad; but being informed that we were almost killed by the +fright, they were vastly sorry; but hearing that we had a very good +night, they were extremely glad again. Nothing could exceed their +complaisance to my daughters; their professions the last evening were +warm, but now they were ardent. They protested a desire of having a more +lasting acquaintance; Lady Blarney was particularly attached to Olivia; +Miss Carolina Wilhelmina Amelia Skeggs (I love to give the whole name) +took a greater fancy to her sister. They supported the conversation +between themselves, while my daughters sat silent, admiring their +exalted breeding. But as every reader, however beggarly himself, is fond +of high-lived dialogues, with anecdotes of lords, ladies, and Knights of +the Garter, I must beg leave to give him the concluding part of the +present conversation. + +"All that I know of the matter," cried Miss Skeggs, "is this: that it +may be true, or it may not be true; but this I can assure your ladyship, +that the whole route was in amaze; his lordship turned all manner of +colors, my lady fell into a swoon, but Sir Tomkyn, drawing his sword, +swore he was hers to the last drop of his blood." + +"Well," replied our peeress, "this I can say: that the duchess +never told me a syllable of the matter; and I believe her Grace +would keep nothing a secret from me. This you may depend upon as +fact: that the next morning my lord duke cried out three times to +his _valet-de-chambre_, 'Jernigan, Jernigan, Jernigan, bring me +my garters!'" + +But previously I should have mentioned the very impolite behavior of Mr. +Burchell, who during this discourse sat with his face turned to the +fire, and at the conclusion of every sentence would cry out +"_Fudge!_"--an expression which displeased us all, and in some measure +damped the rising spirit of the conversation. + +"Besides, my dear Skeggs," continued our peeress, "there is nothing of +this in the copy of verses that Doctor Burdock made upon the occasion." +_Fudge!_ + +"I am surprised at that," cried Miss Skeggs; "for he seldom leaves +anything out, as he writes only for his own amusement. But can your +Ladyship favor me with a sight of them?" _Fudge!_ + +"My dear creature," replied our peeress, "do you think I carry such +things about me? Though they are very fine, to be sure, and I think +myself something of a judge; at least I know what pleases myself. +Indeed, I was ever an admirer of all Doctor Burdock's little pieces; for +except what he does, and our dear countess at Hanover Square, there's +nothing comes out but the most lowest stuff in nature; not a bit of high +life among them." _Fudge!_ + +"Your Ladyship should except," says t'other, "your own things in the +Lady's Magazine. I hope you'll say there's nothing low-lived there? But +I suppose we are to have no more from that quarter?" _Fudge!_ + +"Why, my dear," says the lady, "you know my reader and companion has +left me to be married to Captain Roach, and as my poor eyes won't suffer +me to write myself, I have been for some time looking out for another. A +proper person is no easy matter to find, and to be sure, thirty pounds a +year is a small stipend for a well-bred girl of character, that can +read, write, and behave in company; as for the chits about town, there +is no bearing them about one." _Fudge!_ + +"That I know," cried Miss Skeggs, "by experience. For of the three +companions I had this last half-year, one of them refused to do plain +work an hour in the day, another thought twenty-five guineas a year too +small a salary, and I was obliged to send away the third because I +suspected an intrigue with the chaplain. Virtue, my dear Lady Blarney, +virtue is worth any price; but where is that to be found?" _Fudge!_ + +My wife had been for a long time all attention to this discourse, but +was particularly struck with the latter part of it. Thirty pounds and +twenty-five guineas a year made fifty-six pounds five shillings, English +money, all which was in a manner going a-begging, and might easily be +secured in the family. She for a moment studied my looks for +approbation; and to own a truth, I was of opinion that two such places +would fit our two daughters exactly. Besides, if the Squire had any real +affection for my eldest daughter, this would be the way to make her +every way qualified for her fortune. My wife therefore was resolved that +we should not be deprived of such advantages for want of assurance, and +undertook to harangue for the family. "I hope," cried she, "your +ladyships will pardon my present presumption. It is true, we have no +right to pretend to such favors; but yet it is natural for me to wish +putting my children forward in the world. And I will be bold to say my +two girls have had a pretty good education and capacity; at least, the +country can't show better. They can read, write, and cast accounts; they +understand their needle, broad-stitch, cross-and-change, and all manner +of plain work; they can pink, point, and frill, and know something of +music; they can do up small-clothes, work upon catgut; my eldest can cut +paper, and my youngest has a very pretty manner of telling fortunes upon +the cards." _Fudge!_ + +When she had delivered this pretty piece of eloquence, the two ladies +looked at each other a few moments in silence, with an air of doubt and +importance. At last Miss Carolina Wilhelmina Amelia Skeggs condescended +to observe that the young ladies, from the opinion she could form of +them from so slight an acquaintance, seemed very fit for such +employments. "But a thing of this kind, madam," cried she, addressing my +spouse, "requires a thorough examination into characters, and a more +perfect knowledge of each other. Not, madam," continued she, "that I in +the least suspect the young ladies' virtue, prudence, and discretion; +but there is a form in these things, madam, there is a form." + +My wife approved her suspicions very much, observing that she was very +apt to be suspicious herself; but referred her to all the neighbors for +a character; but this our peeress declined as unnecessary, alleging that +her cousin Thornhill's recommendation would be sufficient, and upon this +we rested our petition. + + * * * * * + +When we returned home, the night was dedicated to schemes of future +conquest. Deborah exerted much sagacity in conjecturing which of the two +girls was likely to have the best place, and most opportunities of +seeing good company. The only obstacle to our preferment was in +obtaining the Squire's recommendation; but he had already shown us too +many instances of his friendship to doubt of it now. Even in bed my wife +kept up the usual theme: "Well, faith, my dear Charles, between +ourselves, I think we have made an excellent day's work of it." "Pretty +well," cried I, not knowing what to say. "What, only pretty well!" +returned she; "I think it is very well. Suppose the girls should come to +make acquaintances of taste in town! This I am assured of, that London +is the only place in the world for all manner of husbands. Besides, my +dear, stranger things happen every day; and as ladies of quality are so +taken with my daughters, what will not men of quality be! _Entre nous_, +I protest I like my Lady Blarney vastly; so very obliging. However, Miss +Carolina Wilhelmina Amelia Skeggs has my warm heart. But yet when they +came to talk of places in town, you saw at once how I nailed them. Tell +me, my dear, don't you think I did for my children there?" "Ay," +returned I, not knowing well what to think of the matter; "Heaven grant +that they may be both the better for it this day three months!" This was +one of those observations I usually made to impress my wife with an +opinion of my sagacity; for if the girls succeeded, then it was a pious +wish fulfilled; but if anything unfortunate ensued, then it might be +looked upon as a prophecy. + + + +NEW MISFORTUNES: BUT OFFENSES ARE EASILY PARDONED WHERE THERE IS LOVE AT +BOTTOM + +From 'The Vicar of Wakefield' + + +The next morning I took my daughter behind me, and set out on my return +home. As we traveled along, I strove by every persuasion to calm her +sorrows and fears, and to arm her with resolution to bear the presence +of her offended mother. I took every opportunity, from the prospect of a +fine country through which we passed, to observe how much kinder Heaven +was to us than we were to each other, and that the misfortunes of +nature's making were very few. I assured her that she should never +perceive any change in my affections, and that during my life, which yet +might be long, she might depend upon a guardian and an instructor. I +armed her against the censures of the world; showed her that books were +sweet, unreproaching companions to the miserable, and that if they could +not bring us to enjoy life, they would at least teach us to endure it. + +The hired horse that we rode was to be put up that night at an inn by +the way, within about five miles from my house; and as I was willing to +prepare my family for my daughter's reception, I determined to leave her +that night at the inn, and to return for her accompanied by my daughter +Sophia, early the next morning. It was night before we reached our +appointed stage; however, after seeing her provided with a decent +apartment, and having ordered the hostess to prepare proper +refreshments, I kissed her, and proceeded towards home. And now my heart +caught new sensations of pleasure, the nearer I approached that peaceful +mansion. As a bird that had been frighted from its nest, my affections +outwent my haste, and hovered round my little fireside with all the +rapture of expectation. I called up the many fond things I had to say, +and anticipated the welcome I was to receive. I already felt my wife's +tender embrace, and smiled at the joy of my little ones. As I walked but +slowly, the night waned apace. The laborers of the day were all retired +to rest; the lights were out in every cottage; no sounds were heard but +of the shrilling cock, and the deep-mouthed watch-dog at the hollow +distance. I approached my little abode of pleasure, and before I was +within a furlong of the place our honest mastiff came running to welcome +me. + +It was now near midnight that I came to knock at my door; all was still +and silent; my heart dilated with unutterable happiness; when to my +amazement I saw the house bursting out in a blaze of fire, and every +aperture red with conflagration! I gave a loud convulsive outcry, and +fell upon the pavement insensible. This alarmed my son, who had till +this been asleep, and he perceiving the flames instantly waked my wife +and daughter, and all running out naked and wild with apprehension, +recalled me to life with their anguish. But it was only to objects of +new terror; for the flames had by this time caught the roof of our +dwelling, part after part continuing to fall in, while the family stood +with silent agony looking on, as if they enjoyed the blaze. I gazed upon +them and upon it by turns, and then looked round me for my two little +ones: but they were not to be seen. Oh misery! "Where," cried I, "where +are my little ones?" "They are burnt to death in the flames," said my +wife calmly, "and I will die with them." That moment I heard the cry of +the babes within, who were just awaked by the fire; and nothing could +have stopped me. "Where, where are my children?" cried I, rushing +through the flames, and bursting the door of the chamber in which they +were confined; "where are my little ones?" "Here, dear papa, here we +are," cried they together, while the flames were just catching the bed +where they lay. I caught them both in my arms, and snatched them through +the fire as fast as possible, while just as I was got out, the roof +sunk in. "Now," cried I, holding up my children, "now let the flames +burn on, and all my possessions perish. Here they are; I have saved my +treasure. Here, my dearest, here are our treasures, and we shall yet be +happy." We kissed our little darlings a thousand times, they clasped us +round the neck and seemed to share our transports, while their mother +laughed and wept by turns. + +I now stood a calm spectator of the flames, and after some time began to +perceive that my arm to the shoulder was scorched in a terrible manner. +It was therefore out of my power to give my son any assistance, either +in attempting to save our goods, or preventing the flames spreading to +our corn. By this time the neighbors were alarmed, and came running to +our assistance; but all they could do was to stand, like us, spectators +of the calamity. My goods, among which were the notes I had reserved for +my daughters' fortunes, were entirely consumed, except a box with some +papers that stood in the kitchen, and two or three things more of little +consequence which my son brought away in the beginning. The neighbors +contributed, however, what they could to lighten our distress. They +brought us clothes, and furnished one of our out-houses with kitchen +utensils; so that by daylight we had another, though a wretched +dwelling, to retire to. My honest next neighbor and his children were +not the least assiduous in providing us with everything necessary, and +offering whatever consolation untutored benevolence could suggest. + +When the fears of my family had subsided, curiosity to know the cause of +my long stay began to take place; having therefore informed them of +every particular, I proceeded to prepare them for the reception of our +lost one, and though we had nothing but wretchedness now to impart, I +was willing to procure her a welcome to what we had. This task would +have been more difficult but for our recent calamity, which had humbled +my wife's pride and blunted it by more poignant afflictions. Being +unable to go for my poor child myself, as my arm grew very painful, I +sent my son and daughter, who soon returned, supporting the wretched +delinquent, who had not the courage to look up at her mother, whom no +instructions of mine could persuade to a perfect reconciliation; for +women have a much stronger sense of female error than men. "Ah, madam," +cried her mother, "this is but a poor place you have come to after so +much finery. My daughter Sophy and I can afford but little entertainment +to persons who have kept company only with people of distinction. Yes, +Miss Livy, your poor father and I have suffered very much of late; but I +hope Heaven will forgive you." During this reception the unhappy victim +stood pale and trembling, unable to weep or to reply; but I could not +continue a silent spectator of her distress; wherefore, assuming a +degree of severity in my voice and manner which was ever followed with +instant submission:--"I entreat, woman, that my words may be now marked +once for all: I have here brought you back a poor deluded wanderer; her +return to duty demands the revival of our tenderness. The real hardships +of life are now coming fast upon us; let us not therefore increase them +by dissension among each other. If we live harmoniously together, we may +yet be contented, as there are enough of us to shut out the censuring +world and keep each other in countenance. The kindness of Heaven is +promised to the penitent, and let ours be directed by the example. +Heaven, we are assured, is much more pleased to view a repentant sinner +than ninety-nine persons who have supported a course of undeviating +rectitude. And this is right; for that single effort by which we stop +short in the down-hill path to perdition, is itself a greater exertion +of virtue than a hundred acts of justice." + + * * * * * + +Some assiduity was now required to make our present abode as convenient +as possible, and we were soon again qualified to enjoy our former +serenity. Being disabled myself from assisting my son in our usual +occupations, I read to my family from the few books that were saved, and +particularly from such as by amusing the imagination contributed to ease +the heart. Our good neighbors, too, came every day with the kindest +condolence, and fixed a time in which they were all to assist at +repairing my former dwelling. Honest Farmer Williams was not last among +these visitors, but heartily offered his friendship. He would even have +renewed his addresses to my daughter; but she rejected them in such a +manner as totally repressed his future solicitations. Her grief seemed +formed for continuing, and she was the only person of our little society +that a week did not restore to cheerfulness. She had now lost that +unblushing innocence which once taught her to respect herself, and to +seek pleasure by pleasing. Anxiety now had taken strong possession of +her mind, her beauty began to be impaired with her constitution, and +neglect still more contributed to diminish it. Every tender epithet +bestowed on her sister brought a pang to her heart and a tear to her +eye; and as one vice, though cured, ever plants others where it has +been, so her former guilt, though driven out by repentance, left +jealousy and envy behind. I strove in a thousand ways to lessen her +care, and even forgot my own pain in a concern for hers, collecting such +amusing passages of history as a strong memory and some reading could +suggest. "Our happiness, my dear," I would say, "is in the power of One +who can bring it about a thousand unforeseen ways that mock our +foresight." + +In this manner I would attempt to amuse my daughter; but she listened +with divided attention, for her own misfortunes engrossed all the pity +she once had for those of another, and nothing gave her ease. In company +she dreaded contempt, and in solitude she only found anxiety. Such was +the color of her wretchedness, when we received certain information that +Mr. Thornhill was going to be married to Miss Wilmot, for whom I always +suspected he had a real passion, though he took every opportunity before +me to express his contempt both of her person and fortune. This news +only served to increase poor Olivia's affliction; such a flagrant breach +of fidelity was more than her courage could support. I was resolved +however to get more certain information, and to defeat if possible the +completion of his designs, by sending my son to old Mr. Wilmot's with +instructions to know the truth of the report, and to deliver Miss Wilmot +a letter intimating Mr. Thornhill's conduct in my family. My son went in +pursuance of my directions, and in three days returned, assuring us of +the truth of the account; but that he had found it impossible to deliver +the letter, which he was therefore obliged to leave, as Mr. Thornhill +and Miss Wilmot were visiting round the country. They were to be +married, he said, in a few days, having appeared together at church the +Sunday before he was there, in great splendor; the bride attended by six +young ladies, and he by as many gentlemen. Their approaching nuptials +filled the whole country with rejoicing, and they usually rode out +together in the grandest equipage that had been seen in the country for +years. All the friends of both families, he said, were there, +particularly the Squire's uncle, Sir William Thornhill, who bore so good +a character. He added that nothing but mirth and feasting were going +forward; that all the country praised the young bride's beauty and the +bridegroom's fine person, and that they were immensely fond of each +other; concluding that he could not help thinking Mr. Thornhill one of +the most happy men in the world. + +"Why, let him if he can," returned I; "but my son, observe this bed of +straw and unsheltering roof, those moldering walls and humid floor, my +wretched body thus disabled by fire, and my children weeping round me +for bread. You have come home, my child, to all this; yet here, even +here, you see a man that would not for a thousand worlds exchange +situations. O my children, if you could but learn to commune with your +own hearts, and know what noble company you can make them, you would +little regard the elegance and splendor of the worthless. Almost all men +have been taught to call life a passage, and themselves the travelers. +The similitude still may be improved, when we observe that the good are +joyful and serene, like travelers that are going towards home; the +wicked but by intervals happy, like travelers that are going into +exile." + +My compassion for my poor daughter, overpowered by this new disaster, +interrupted what I had further to observe. I bade her mother support +her, and after a short time she recovered. She appeared from that time +more calm, and I imagined had gained a new degree of resolution; but +appearances deceived me, for her tranquillity was the languor of +overwrought resentment. A supply of provisions charitably sent us by my +kind parishioners seemed to diffuse new cheerfulness among the rest of +the family; nor was I displeased at seeing them once more sprightly and +at ease. It would have been unjust to damp their satisfactions merely to +condole with resolute melancholy, or to burden them with a sadness they +did not feel. Thus once more the tale went round, and the song was +demanded, and cheerfulness condescended to hover round our little +habitation. + + * * * * * + +The next morning the sun arose with peculiar warmth for the season; so +that we agreed to breakfast together on the honeysuckle bank; where, +while we sat, my youngest daughter, at my request, joined her voice to +the concert on the trees about us. It was in this place my poor Olivia +first met her seducer, and every object served to recall her sadness. +But that melancholy which is excited by objects of pleasure, or inspired +by sounds of harmony, soothes the heart instead of corroding it. Her +mother, too, upon this occasion felt a pleasing distress, and wept, and +loved her daughter as before. "Do, my pretty Olivia," cried she, "let us +have that little melancholy air your papa was so fond of; your sister +Sophy has already obliged us. Do, child; it will please your old +father." She complied in a manner so exquisitely pathetic as moved me: + + "When lovely woman stoops to folly, + And finds too late that men betray, + What charm can soothe her melancholy? + What art can wash her guilt away? + + "The only art her guilt to cover, + "To hide her shame from every eye, + To give repentance to her lover, + And wring his bosom, is--to die." + +As she was concluding the last stanza, to which an interruption in her +voice from sorrow gave peculiar softness, the appearance of Mr. +Thornhill's equipage at a distance alarmed us all, but particularly +increased the uneasiness of my eldest daughter, who, desirous of +shunning her betrayer, returned to the house with her sister. In a few +minutes he was alighted from his chariot, and making up to the place +where I was still sitting, inquired after my health with his usual air +of familiarity. "Sir," replied I, "your present assurance only serves to +aggravate the baseness of your character; and there was a time when I +would have chastised your insolence for presuming thus to appear before +me. But now you are safe; for age has cooled my passions, and my calling +restrains me." + +"I vow, my dear sir," returned he, "I am amazed at all this, nor can I +understand what it means. I hope you don't think your daughter's late +excursion with me had anything criminal in it." + +"Go," cried I; "thou art a wretch, a poor pitiful wretch, and every way +a liar; but your meanness secures you from my anger. Yet, sir, I am +descended from a family that would not have borne this! And so, thou +vile thing! to gratify a momentary passion, thou hast made one poor +creature wretched for life, and polluted a family that had nothing but +honor for their portion." + +"If she or you," returned he, "are resolved to be miserable, I cannot +help it. But you may still be happy; and whatever opinion you may have +formed of me, you shall ever find me ready to contribute to it. We can +marry her to another in a short time, and what is more, she may keep +her lover beside; for I protest I shall ever continue to have a true +regard for her." + +I found all my passions alarmed at this new degrading proposal; for +although the mind may often be calm under great injuries, little +villainy can at any time get within the soul and sting it into rage. +"Avoid my sight, thou reptile," cried I, "nor continue to insult me with +thy presence. Were my brave son at home he would not suffer this; but I +am old and disabled, and every way undone." + +"I find," cried he, "you are bent upon obliging me to talk in a harsher +manner than I intended. But as I have shown you what may be hoped from +my friendship, it may not be improper to represent what may be the +consequences of my resentment. My attorney, to whom your late bond has +been transferred, threatens hard; nor do I know how to prevent the +course of justice except by paying the money myself, which, as I have +been at some expenses lately previous to my intended marriage, is not so +easy to be done. And then my steward talks of driving for the rent: it +is certain he knows his duty, for I never trouble myself with affairs of +that nature. Yet still I could wish to serve you, and even to have you +and your daughter present at my marriage, which is shortly to be +solemnized with Miss Wilmot; it is even the request of my charming +Arabella herself, whom I hope you will not refuse." + +"Mr. Thornhill," replied I, "hear me once for all: as to your marriage +with any but my daughter, that I never will consent to; and though your +friendship could raise me to a throne, or your resentment sink me to the +grave, yet would I despise both. Thou hast once woefully, irreparably +deceived me. I reposed my heart upon thine honor, and have found its +baseness. Never more, therefore, expect friendship from me. Go, and +possess what fortune has given thee--beauty, riches, health, and +pleasure. Go and leave me to want, infamy, disease, and sorrow. Yet +humbled as I am, shall my heart still vindicate its dignity, and though +thou hast my forgiveness, thou shalt ever have my contempt." + +"If so," returned he, "depend upon it you shall feel the effects of this +insolence; and we shall shortly see which is the fittest object of +scorn, you or me." Upon which he departed abruptly. + + + +PICTURES FROM 'THE DESERTED VILLAGE' + + + Sweet Auburn! parent of the blissful hour, + Thy glades forlorn confess the tyrant's power. + Here, as I take my solitary rounds + Amidst thy tangling walks and ruined grounds, + And, many a year elapsed, return to view + Where once the cottage stood, the hawthorn grew, + Remembrance wakes, with all her busy train, + Swells at my breast, and turns the past to pain. + In all my wanderings round this world of care, + In all my griefs,--and God has given my share,-- + I still had hopes, my latest hours to crown, + Amidst these humble bowers to lay me down; + To husband out life's taper at the close, + And keep the flame from wasting by repose. + I still had hopes--for pride attends us still-- + Amidst the swains to show my book-learned skill; + Around my fire an evening group to draw, + And tell of all I felt, and all I saw; + And as a hare whom hounds and horns pursue + Pants to the place from whence at first she flew, + I still had hopes, my long vexations past, + Here to return--and die at home at last. + + Oh, blest retirement! friend to life's decline, + Retreat from care, that never must be mine, + How blest is he who crowns in shades like these + A youth of labor with an age of ease; + Who quits a world where strong temptations try, + And since 'tis hard to combat, learns to fly! + For him no wretches, born to work and weep, + Explore the mine, or tempt the dangerous deep; + No surly porter stands in guilty state, + To spurn imploring famine from the gate: + But on he moves to meet his latter end, + Angels around befriending virtue's friend; + Bends to the grave with unperceived decay, + While resignation gently slopes the way; + And, all his prospects brightening to the last, + His heaven commences ere the world be past. + + Sweet was the sound, when oft at evening's close + Up yonder hill the village murmur rose. + There, as I passed with careless steps and slow, + The mingling notes came softened from below: + The swain responsive as the milkmaid sung, + The sober herd that lowed to meet their young; + The noisy geese that gabbled o'er the pool; + The playful children just let loose from school; + The watch-dog's voice that bayed the whispering wind, + And the loud laugh that spoke the vacant mind: + These all in sweet confusion sought the shade, + And filled each pause the nightingale had made. + But now the sounds of population fail; + No cheerful murmurs fluctuate in the gale; + No busy steps the grass-grown footway tread, + But all the bloomy flush of life is fled. + All but yon widowed, solitary thing + That feebly bends beside the plashy spring; + She, wretched matron,--forced in age, for bread, + To strip the brook with mantling cresses spread, + To pick her wintry fagot from the thorn, + To seek her nightly shed, and weep till morn,-- + She only left of all the harmless train, + The sad historian of the pensive plain. + + Near yonder copse, where once the garden smiled, + And still where many a garden flower grows wild, + There, where a few torn shrubs the place disclose, + The village preacher's modest mansion rose. + A man he was to all the country dear, + And passing rich with forty pounds a year. + Remote from towns he ran his godly race, + Nor e'er had changed, nor wished to change, his place: + Unpracticed he to fawn, or seek for power, + By doctrines fashioned to the varying hour; + Far other aims his heart had learned to prize, + More skilled to raise the wretched than to rise. + His house was known to all the vagrant train,-- + He chid their wanderings, but relieved their pain; + The long-remembered beggar was his guest, + Whose beard descending swept his aged breast; + The ruined spendthrift, now no longer proud, + Claimed kindred there, and had his claims allowed; + The broken soldier, kindly bade to stay, + Sate by his fire, and talked the night away, + Wept o'er his wounds, or, tales of sorrow done, + Shouldered his crutch, and showed how fields were won. + Pleased with his guests, the good man learned to glow, + And quite forgot their vices in their woe; + Careless their merits or their faults to scan, + His pity gave ere charity began. + + Thus to relieve the wretched was his pride, + And e'en his failings leaned to virtue's side: + But in his duty prompt at every call, + He watched and wept, he prayed and felt for all. + And as a bird each fond endearment tries + To tempt its new-fledged offspring to the skies, + He tried each art, reproved each dull delay, + Allured to brighter worlds, and led the way. + + Beside the bed where parting life was laid, + And sorrow, guilt, and pain, by turns dismayed, + The reverend champion stood. At his control, + Despair and anguish fled the struggling soul; + Comfort came down, the trembling wretch to raise, + And his last faltering accents whispered praise. + + At church, with meek and unaffected grace, + His looks adorned the venerable place; + Truth from his lips prevailed with double sway, + And fools who came to scoff remained to pray. + The service past, around the pious man, + With steady zeal, each honest rustic ran; + Even children followed, with endearing wile, + And plucked his gown, to share the good man's smile. + His ready smile a parent's warmth exprest; + Their welfare pleased him, and their cares distrest; + To them his heart, his love, his griefs, were given, + But all his serious thoughts had rest in Heaven: + As some tall cliff that lifts its awful form, + Swells from the vale, and midway leaves the storm, + Though round its breast the rolling clouds are spread, + Eternal sunshine settles on its head. + + Beside yon straggling fence that skirts the way, + With blossomed furze unprofitably gay, + There in his noisy mansion, skilled to rule, + The village master taught his little school. + A man severe he was, and stern to view; + I knew him well, and every truant knew: + Well had the boding tremblers learned to trace + The day's disasters in his morning face; + Full well they laughed, with counterfeited glee, + At all his jokes,--for many a joke had he; + Full well, the busy whisper, circling round, + Conveyed the dismal tidings when he frowned. + Yet he was kind; or if severe in aught, + The love he bore to learning was in fault. + The village all declared how much he knew: + 'Twas certain he could write, and cipher too; + Lands he could measure, terms and tides presage, + And even the story ran that he could _gauge_. + In arguing, too, the parson owned his skill, + For even though vanquished he could argue still; + While words of learned length and thundering sound, + Amazed the gazing rustics ranged around, + And still they gazed, and still the wonder grew + That one small head could carry all he knew. + But past is all his fame. The very spot + Where many a time he triumphed is forgot. + + Near yonder thorn, that lifts its head on high, + Where once the sign-post caught the passing eye, + Low lies that house where nut-brown draughts inspired, + Where graybeard mirth and smiling toil retired, + Where village statesmen talked with looks profound, + And news much older than their ale went round. + Imagination fondly stoops to trace + The parlor splendors of that festive place: + The whitewashed wall, the nicely sanded floor, + The varnished clock that clicked behind the door; + The chest contrived a double debt to pay, + A bed by night, a chest of drawers by day; + The pictures placed for ornament and use, + The twelve good rules, the royal game of goose; + The hearth, except when winter chilled the day, + With aspen boughs and flowers and fennel gay, + While broken teacups, wisely kept for show, + Ranged o'er the chimney, glistened in a row. + + Vain, transitory splendors! could not all + Reprieve the tottering mansion from its fall? + Obscure it sinks, nor shall it more impart + An hour's importance to the poor man's heart. + Thither no more the peasant shall repair + To sweet oblivion of his daily care; + No more the farmer's news, the barber's tale, + No more the woodman's ballad shall prevail; + No more the smith his dusky brow shall clear, + Relax his ponderous strength, and lean to hear; + The host himself no longer shall be found + Careful to see the mantling bliss go round; + Nor the coy maid, half willing to be prest, + Shall kiss the cup to pass it to the rest. + + Yes! let the rich deride, the proud disdain + These simple blessings of the lowly train; + To me more dear, congenial to my heart, + One native charm, than all the gloss of art. + Spontaneous joys where nature has its play, + The soul adopts, and owns their first-born sway; + Lightly they frolic o'er the vacant mind, + Unenvied, unmolested, unconfined. + But the long pomp, the midnight masquerade, + With all the freaks of wanton wealth arrayed,-- + In these, ere triflers half their wish obtain, + The toiling pleasure sickens into pain; + And even while fashion's brightest arts decoy, + The heart, distrusting, asks if this be joy. + + + +CONTRASTED NATIONAL TYPES + +From 'The Traveller' + + + My soul, turn from them; turn we to survey + Where rougher climes a nobler race display; + Where the bleak Swiss their stormy mansion tread, + And force a churlish soil for scanty bread. + No product here the barren hills afford, + But man and steel, the soldier and his sword; + No vernal blooms their torpid rocks array, + But winter lingering chills the lap of May; + No zephyr fondly sues the mountain's breast, + But meteors glare, and stormy glooms invest. + + Yet still, even here, content can spread a charm. + Redress the clime, and all its rage disarm. + Though poor the peasant's hut, his feasts though small + He sees his little lot the lot of all; + Sees no contiguous palace rear its head + To shame the meanness of his humble shed; + No costly lord the sumptuous banquet deal + To make him loathe his vegetable meal; + But calm, and bred in ignorance and toil, + Each wish contracting fits him to the soil. + Cheerful at morn he wakes from short repose, + Breasts the keen air, and carols as he goes; + With patient angle trolls the finny deep, + Or drives his venturous plowshare to the steep; + Or seeks the den where snow-tracks mark the way, + And drags the struggling savage into day. + At night returning, every labor sped, + He sits him down, the monarch of a shed; + Smiles by his cheerful fire, and round surveys + His children's looks, that brighten at the blaze; + While his loved partner, boastful of her hoard, + Displays her cleanly platter on the board; + And haply too some pilgrim, thither led, + With many a tale repays the nightly bed. + + Thus every good his native wilds impart, + Imprints the patriot passion on his heart; + And even those ills that round his mansion rise, + Enhance the bliss his scanty fund supplies. + Dear is that shed to which his soul conforms, + And dear that hill which lifts him to the storms; + And as a child, when scaring sounds molest, + Clings close and closer to the mother's breast, + So the loud torrent, and the whirlwind's roar, + But bind him to his native mountains more. + + Such are the charms to barren states assigned; + Their wants but few, their wishes all confined. + Yet let them only share the praises due,-- + If few their wants, their pleasures are but few; + For every want that stimulates the breast + Becomes a source of pleasure when redrest. + Whence from such lands each pleasing science flies + That first excites desire, and then supplies; + Unknown to them, when sensual pleasures cloy, + To fill the languid pause with finer joy; + Unknown those powers that raise the soul to flame, + Catch every nerve, and vibrate through the frame. + Their level life is but a smoldering fire, + Unquenched by want, unfanned by strong desire; + Unfit for raptures, or if raptures cheer + On some high festival of once a year, + In wild excess the vulgar breast takes fire, + Till, buried in debauch, the bliss expire. + + But not their joys alone thus coarsely flow: + Their morals, like their pleasures, are but low; + For as refinement stops, from sire to son + Unaltered, unimproved, the manners run; + And love's and friendship's finely pointed dart + Falls blunted from each indurated heart. + Some sterner virtues o'er the mountain's breast + May sit, like falcons cowering on the nest; + But all the gentler morals, such as play + Through life's more cultured walks, and charm the way, + These, far dispersed, on timorous pinions fly, + To sport and flutter in a kinder sky. + + To kinder skies, where gentler manners reign, + I turn; and France displays her bright domain. + Gay, sprightly land of mirth and social ease, + Pleased with thyself, whom all the world can please, + How often have I led thy sportive choir, + With tuneless pipe, beside the murmuring Loire! + Where shading elms along the margin grew, + And freshened from the wave the zephyr flew; + And haply, though my harsh touch, faltering still, + But mocked all tune, and marred the dancer's skill, + Yet would the village praise my wondrous power, + And dance, forgetful of the noontide hour. + Alike all ages: dames of ancient days + Have led their children through the mirthful maze; + And the gay grandsire, skilled in gestic lore, + Has frisked beneath the burthen of threescore. + + So blest a life these thoughtless realms display, + Thus idly busy rolls their world away: + Theirs are those arts that mind to mind endear, + For honor forms the social temper here. + Honor, that praise which real merit gains, + Or even imaginary worth obtains, + Here passes current; paid from hand to hand, + It shifts in splendid traffic round the land; + From courts to camps, to cottages it strays, + And all are taught an avarice of praise: + They please, are pleased, they give to get esteem, + Till, seeming blest, they grow to what they seem. + + But while this softer art their bliss supplies, + It gives their follies also room to rise: + For praise too dearly loved, or warmly sought, + Enfeebles all internal strength of thought; + And the weak soul, within itself unblest, + Leans for all pleasure on another's breast. + Hence ostentation here, with tawdry art, + Pants for the vulgar praise which fools impart; + Here vanity assumes her pert grimace, + And trims her robes of frieze with copper lace; + Here beggar pride defrauds her daily cheer, + To boast one splendid banquet once a year: + The mind still turns where shifting fashion draws, + Nor weighs the solid worth of self-applause. + + + + +IVAN ALEKSANDROVITCH GONCHAROF + +(1812-) + +BY NATHAN HASKELL DOLE + +[Illustration: I.V. GONCHAROF] + + +Among the Russian novelists of the first rank stands Ivan the son of +Alexander Goncharof. His life has been almost synchronous with the +century. He was born in 1812 in the city of Simbirsk, on the Volga below +Nizhni Novgorod. His father, a wealthy merchant of that flourishing +town, died when the boy was only three years old, leaving him in the +care of his mother, a conscientious and lovely woman, who, without a +remarkable education, nevertheless determined that her son should have +the best that could be provided. In this she was cordially assisted by +Ivan's godfather, a retired naval officer who lived in one of her houses +and was a cultivated, lively, and lovable man, the centre of the best +society of the provincial city. His tales of travel and adventure early +implanted in the boy a great passion for reading and study about foreign +lands, and the desire to see the world. + +He was at first taught at home; then he was sent to a private school +which had been established by a local priest for the benefit of +neighboring land-owners and gentry. This priest had been educated at the +Theological School at Kazan, and was distinguished for his courtly +manners and general cultivation. His wife--for it must be remembered +that the Russian priesthood is not celibate--was a fascinating French +woman, and she taught her native tongue in her husband's school. This +remarkable little institution had a small but select library, and here +young Goncharof indulged his taste in reading by devouring the Voyages +of Captain Cook, Mungo Park, and others, the histories of Karamzin and +Rollin, the poetical works of Tasso and Fenelon, as well as the romantic +fiction of that day; he was especially fascinated by 'The Heir of +Redclyffe.' His reading, however, was ill regulated and not well adapted +for his mental discipline. At twelve he was taken by his mother to +Moscow, where he had the opportunity to study English and German as well +as to continue his reading in French, in which he had already been well +grounded. + +In 1831 he entered Moscow University, electing the Philological Faculty. +There were at that time in the University a coterie of young men who +afterwards became famous as writers, and the lectures delivered by a +number of enthusiastic young professors were admirably calculated to +develop the best in those who heard them. He finished the complete +course, and after a brief visit at his native place went to St. +Petersburg, where he entered the Ministry of Finance. Gogol, and +Goncharof himself, have painted the depressing influence of the +officialdom then existing. The _chinovnik_ as painted by those early +realists was a distinct type. But on the other hand, there was a +delightful society at St. Petersburg, and the literary impulses of +talented young men were fostered by its leaders. Some of these men +founded a new journal of which Salonitsuin was the leading spirit, and +in this appeared Goncharof's first articles. They were of a humoristic +tendency. His first serious work was entitled 'Obuiknavennaya Istoriya' +(An Ordinary Story),--a rather melancholy tale, showing how youthful +enthusiasm and the dreams of progress and perfection can be killed by +formalism: Aleksandr Aduyef the romantic dreamer is contrasted with his +practical uncle Peter Ivanovitch. The second part was not completed when +the first part was placed in the hands of the critic Byelinsky, the +sovereign arbiter on things literary. Byelinsky gave it his +"imprimatur," and it was published in the Sovremennik (Contemporary) in +1847. The conception of his second and by all odds his best romance, +'Oblomof,' was already in his mind; and the first draft was published in +the Illustrated Album, under the title 'Son Oblomova' (Oblomof's Dream), +the following year. + +In 1852 Goncharof received from the Marine Ministry a proposition to +sail around the world as private secretary to Admiral Putyatin. On his +return he contributed to various magazines sketches of his experiences, +and finally published a handsome volume of his travels entitled 'Phregat +Pallada' (The Frigate Pallas). In 1857 he went to Carlsbad and completed +'Oblomof' on which he had been working so many years. It appeared in +Otetchestvenniya Zapiski (Annals of the Fatherland) in 1858 and 1859, +and made a profound sensation. The hero was recognized as a perfectly +elaborated portrait of a not uncommon type of Russian character: a +good-natured, warm-hearted, healthy young man, so enervated by the +atmosphere of indolence into which he has allowed himself to sink, that +nothing serves to rouse him. Love is the only impulse which could +galvanize him into life. Across his path comes the beautiful Olga, whom +the Russians claim as a poetic and at the same time a genuine +representative of the best Russian womanhood. Vigorous, alert, with mind +and heart equally well developed, she stirs the latent manhood of +Oblomof; but when he comes to face the responsibilities, the cares, and +the duties of matrimony, he has not the courage to enter upon them. +Olga marries Oblomof's friend Stoltz, whom Goncharof intended to be a +no less typical specimen of Russian manhood, and whom most critics +consider overdrawn and not true to life. The novel is a series of +wonderful _genre_ pictures: his portraits are marvels of finish and +delicacy; and there are a number of dramatic scenes, although the story +as a whole lacks movement. The first chapter, which is here reproduced, +is chosen not as perhaps the finest in the book, but as thoroughly +characteristic. It is also a fine specimen of Russian humor. + +Goncharof finished in 1868 his third novel, entitled 'Abruif' (The +Precipice). It was published first in the Viestnik Yevropui (European +Messenger), and in book form in 1870. In this he tries to portray the +type of the Russian Nihilist; but Volokhof is regarded rather as a +caricature than as a faithful portrait. In contrast with him stands the +beautiful Viera; but just as Volokhof falls below Oblomof, so Viera +yields to Olga in perfect realism. One of the best characters in the +story is the dilettante Raisky, the type of the man who has an artistic +nature but no energy. One of the most important characters of the book +is Viera's grandmother: the German translation of 'The Precipice' is +entitled 'The Grandmother's Fault.' + +Goncharof has written a few literary essays, and during the past few +years has contributed to one of the Russian reviews a series of literary +recollections. But his fame with posterity will depend principally on +his 'Oblomof,' the name of which has given to the language a new +word,--_oblomovshchina_[F] Oblomovism,--the typically Russian indolence +which was induced by the peculiar social conditions existing in Russia +before the emancipation of the serfs in 1861: indifference to all social +questions; the expectation that others will do your work; or as +expressed in the Russian proverb, "the trusting in others as in God, but +in yourself as in the Devil." + + [Signature: Nathan Haskell Dole] + + [F] Oblomof is the genitive plural of the word oblom or oblam, + a term expressive of anything broken or almost useless, or + even bad; a rude, awkward, unfinished man. + + + +OBLOMOF + + +In Garokhavaya Street, in one of those immense houses the population +of which would suffice for a whole provincial city, there lay one +morning in bed in his apartment Ilya Ilyitch Oblomof. He was a +pleasant-appearing man of two or three and twenty, of medium stature, +with dark gray eyes; but his face lacked any fixed idea or concentration +of purpose. A thought would wander like a free bird over his features, +flutter in his eyes, light on his parted lips, hide itself in the +wrinkles of his brow, then entirely vanish away; and over his whole +countenance would spread the shadeless light of unconcern. + +From his face this indifference extended to the attitudes of his whole +body, even to the folds of his dressing-gown. Occasionally his eyes were +darkened by an expression of weariness or disgust, but neither weariness +nor disgust could for an instant dispel from his face the indolence +which was the dominant and habitual expression not only of his body, but +also of his very soul. And his soul was frankly and clearly betrayed in +his eyes, in his smile, in every movement of his head, of his hands. + +A cool superficial observer, glancing at Oblomof as he passed him by, +would have said, "He must be a good-natured, simple-hearted fellow." Any +one looking deeper, more sympathetically, would after a few moments' +scrutiny turn away with a smile, with a feeling of agreeable +uncertainty. + +Oblomof's complexion was not florid, not tawny, and not positively +pallid, but was indeterminate,--or seemed to be so, perhaps because it +was flabby; not by reason of age, but by lack of exercise or of fresh +air or of both. His body, to judge by the dull, transparent color of his +neck, by his little plump hands, his drooping shoulders, seemed too +effeminate for a man. His movements, even if by chance he were aroused, +were kept under restraint likewise by a languor and by a laziness that +was not devoid of its own peculiar grace. + +If a shadow of an anxious thought arose from his spirit and passed +across his face, his eyes would grow troubled, the wrinkles in his brow +would deepen, a struggle of doubt or pain would seem to begin: but +rarely indeed would this troubled thought crystallize into the form of a +definite idea; still more rarely would it be transformed into a +project. + +All anxiety would be dissipated in a sigh and settle down into apathy or +languid dreaming. + +How admirably Oblomof's house costume suited his unruffled features and +his effeminate body! He wore a dressing-gown of Persian material--a +regular Oriental _khalat_, without the slightest suggestion of anything +European about it, having no tassels, no velvet, no special shape. It +was ample in size, so that he might have wrapped it twice around him. +The sleeves, in the invariable Asiatic style, grew wider and wider from +the wrist to the shoulder. Although this garment had lost its first +freshness, and in places had exchanged its former natural gloss for +another that was acquired, it still preserved the brilliancy of its +Oriental coloring and its firmness of texture. + +The khalat had in Oblomof's eyes a multitude of precious properties: it +was soft and supple; the body was not sensible of its weight; like an +obedient slave, it accommodated itself to every slightest motion. + +Oblomof while at home always went without cravat and without waistcoat, +for the simple reason that he liked simplicity and comfort. The slippers +which he wore were long, soft, and wide; when without looking he put +down one foot from the bed to the floor it naturally fell into one of +them. + +Oblomof's remaining in bed was not obligatory upon him, as in the case +of a sick man or of one who was anxious to sleep; nor was it accidental, +as in the case of one who was weary; nor was it for mere pleasure, as a +sluggard would have chosen: it was the normal condition of things with +him. When he was at home--and he was almost always at home--he +invariably lay in bed and invariably in the room where we have just +found him: a room which served him for sleeping-room, library, and +parlor. He had three other rooms, but he rarely glanced into them; in +the morning, perhaps, but even then not every day, but only when his man +came to sweep the rooms--and this, you may be sure, was not done every +day. In these rooms the furniture was protected with covers; the +curtains were always drawn. + +The room in which Oblomof was lying appeared at first glance to be +handsomely furnished, There were a mahogany bureau, two sofas +upholstered in silk, handsome screens embroidered with birds and fruits +belonging to an imaginary nature. There were damask curtains, rugs, a +number of paintings, bronzes, porcelains, and a quantity of beautiful +bric-a-brac. But the experienced eye of a man of pure taste would have +discovered at a single hasty glance that everything there betrayed +merely the desire to keep up appearances in unimportant details, while +really avoiding the burden. That had indeed been Oblomof's object when +he furnished his room. Refined taste would not have been satisfied with +those heavy ungraceful mahogany chairs, with those conventional +etageres. The back of one sofa was dislocated; the veneering was broken +off in places. The same characteristics were discoverable in the +pictures and the vases, and all the ornaments. + +The proprietor himself, however, looked with such coolness and +indifference on the decoration of his apartment that one might think he +asked with his eyes, "Who brought you here and set you up?" As the +result of such an indifferent manner of regarding his possessions, and +perhaps of the still more indifferent attitude of Oblomof's servant +Zakhar, the appearance of the room, if it were examined rather more +critically, was amazing because of the neglect and carelessness which +held sway there. On the walls, around the pictures, spiders' webs, +loaded with dust, hung like festoons; the mirrors, instead of reflecting +objects, would have served better as tablets for scribbling memoranda in +the dust that covered them. The rugs were rags. On the sofa lay a +forgotten towel; on the table you would generally find in the morning a +plate or two with the remains of the evening meal, the salt-cellar, +gnawed bones, and crusts of bread. Were it not for these plates, and the +pipe half smoked out and flung down on the bed, or even the master +himself stretched out on it, it might easily have been supposed that the +room was uninhabited, it was so dusty, so lacking in all traces of human +care. On the etageres, to be sure, lay two or three opened books or a +crumpled newspaper; on the bureau stood an inkstand with pens; but the +pages where the books were open were covered thick with dust and had +turned yellow, evidently long ago thrown aside; the date of the +newspaper was long past; and if any one had dipped a pen into the +inkstand it would have started forth only a frightened, buzzing fly! + +Ilya Ilyitch was awake, contrary to his ordinary custom, very early,--at +eight o'clock. Some anxiety was preying on his mind. Over his face +passed alternately now apprehension, now annoyance, now vexation. It was +evident that an internal conflict had him in its throes, and his +intellect had not as yet come to his aid. + +The fact was that the evening before, Oblomof had received from the +starosta (steward) of his estate a letter filled with disagreeable +tidings. It is not hard to guess what unpleasant details one's steward +may write about: bad harvests, large arrearages, diminution in receipts, +and the like. But although his starosta had written his master almost +precisely the same kind of letter the preceding year and the year before +that, nevertheless this latest letter came upon him exactly the same, as +a disagreeable surprise. + +Was it not hard?--he was facing the necessity of considering the means +of taking some measures! + +However, it is proper to show how far Ilya Ilyitch was justified in +feeling anxiety about his affairs. + +When he received the first letter of disagreeable tenor from his +starosta some years before, he was already contemplating a plan for a +number of changes and improvements in the management of his property. +This plan presupposed the introduction of various new economical and +protectional measures; but the details of the scheme were still in +embryo, and the starosta's disagreeable letters were annually +forthcoming, urging him to activity and really disturbing his peace of +mind. Oblomof recognized the necessity of coming to some decision if he +were to carry out his plan. + +As soon as he woke he decided to get up, bathe, and after drinking his +tea, to think the matter over carefully, then to write his letters; and +in short, to act in this matter as was fitting. But for half an hour he +had been still in bed tormenting himself with this proposition; but +finally he came to the conclusion that he would still have time to do it +after tea, and that he might drink his tea as usual in bed with all the +more reason, because one can think even if one is lying down! + +And so he did. After his tea he half sat up in bed, but did not entirely +rise; glancing down at his slippers, he started to put his foot into one +of them, but immediately drew it back into bed again. + +As the clock struck half-past nine, Ilya Ilyitch started up. + +"What kind of a man am I?" he said aloud in a tone of vexation. +"Conscience only knows. It is time to do something: where there's a +will--Zakhar!" he cried. + +In a room which was separated merely by a narrow corridor from Ilya +Ilyitch's library, nothing was heard at first except the growling of the +watch-dog; then the thump of feet springing down from somewhere. It was +Zakhar leaping down from his couch on the stove, where he generally +spent his time immersed in drowsiness. + +An elderly man appeared in the room: he was dressed in a gray coat, +through a hole under the armpit of which emerged a part of his shirt; he +also wore a gray waistcoat with brass buttons. His head was as bald as +his knee, and he had enormous reddish side-whiskers already turning +gray--so thick and bushy that they would have sufficed for three +ordinary individuals. + +Zakhar would never have taken pains to change in any respect either the +form which God had bestowed on him, or the costume which he wore in the +country. His raiment was made for him in the style which he had brought +with him from his village. His gray coat and waistcoat pleased him, for +the very reason that in his semi-fashionable attire he perceived a +feeble approach to the livery which he had worn in former times when +waiting on his former masters (now at rest), either to church or to +parties; but liveries in his recollections were merely representative of +the dignity of the Oblomof family. There was nothing else to recall to +the old man the comfortable and liberal style of life on the estate in +the depths of the country. The older generation of masters had died, the +family portraits were at home, and in all probability were going to rack +and ruin in the garret; the traditions of the former life and importance +of the house of Oblomof were all extinct, or lived only in the memories +of a few old people still lingering in the country. + +Consequently, precious in the eyes of Zakhar was the gray coat: in this +he saw a faint emblem of vanished greatness, and he found similar +indications in some of the characteristics of his master's features and +notions, reminding of his parentage, and in his caprices, which although +he grumbled at them under his breath and aloud, yet he prized secretly +as manifestations of the truly imperious will and autocratic spirit of a +born noble. Had it not been for these whims, he would not have felt that +his master was in any sense above him; had it not been for them, there +would have been nothing to bring back to his mind his younger days, the +village which they had abandoned so long ago, and the traditions about +that ancient home,--the sole chronicles preserved by aged servants, +nurses, and nursemaids, and handed down from mouth to mouth. + +The house of the Oblomofs was rich in those days, and had great +influence in that region; but afterwards somehow or other everything had +gone to destruction, and at last by degrees had sunk out of sight, +overshadowed by parvenus of aristocratic pretensions. Only the few +gray-haired retainers of the house preserved and interchanged their +reminiscences of the past, treasuring them like holy relics. + +This was the reason why Zakhar so loved his gray coat. Possibly he +valued his side-whiskers because of the fact that he saw in his +childhood many of the older servants with this ancient and aristocratic +adornment. + +Ilya Ilyitch, immersed in contemplation, took no notice of Zakhar, +though the servant had been silently waiting for some time. At last he +coughed. + +"What is it you want?" asked Ilya Ilyitch. + +"You called me, didn't you?" + +"Called you? I don't remember what I called you for," he replied, +stretching and yawning. "Go back to your room; I will try to think what +I wanted." + +Zakhar went out, and Ilya Ilyitch lay down on the bed again and began to +cogitate upon that cursed letter. + +A quarter of an hour elapsed. + +"There now," he exclaimed, "I have dallied long enough; I must get up. +However, I must read the starosta's letter over again more attentively, +and then I will get up--Zakhar!" The same noise of leaping down from the +stove, and the same growling of the dog, only more emphatic. + +Zakhar made his appearance, but again Oblomof was sunk deep in +contemplation. Zakhar stood a few moments, looking sulkily and askance +at his master, and finally he turned to go. + +"Where are you going?" suddenly demanded Oblomof. + +"You have nothing to say to me, and why should I waste my time standing +here?" explained Zakhar, in a hoarse gasp which served him in lieu of a +voice, he having lost his voice, according to his own account, while out +hunting with the dogs when he had to accompany his former master, and +when a powerful wind seemed to blow in his throat. He half turned round, +and stood in the middle of the room and glared at his master. + +"Have your legs quite given out, that you can't stand a minute? Don't +you see I am worried? Now, please wait a moment! wasn't it lying there +just now? Get me that letter which I received last evening from the +starosta. What did you do with it?" + +"What letter? I haven't seen any letter," replied Zakhar. + +"Why, you yourself took it from the postman, you scoundrel!" + +"It is where you put it; how should I know anything about it?" said +Zakhar, beginning to rummage about among the papers and various things +that littered the table. + +"You never know anything at all. There, look on the basket. No, see if +it hasn't been thrown on the sofa.--There, the back of that sofa hasn't +been mended yet. Why have you not got the carpenter to mend it? 'Twas +you who broke it. You never think of anything!" + +"I didn't break it," retorted Zakhar; "it broke itself; it was not meant +to last forever; it had to break some time." + +Ilya Ilyitch did not consider it necessary to refute this argument. He +contented himself with asking:-- + +"Have you found it yet?" + +"Here are some letters." + +"But they are not the right ones." + +"Well, there's nothing else," said Zakhar. + +"Very good, be gone," said Ilya Ilyitch impatiently. "I am going to get +up. I will find it." + +Zakhar went to his room, but he had hardly laid his hand on his couch to +climb up to it before the imperative cry was heard again:-- + +"Zakhar! Zakhar!" + +"Oh, good Lord!" grumbled he, as he started to go for the third time to +Oblomof's library. "What a torment all this is! Oh that death would come +and take me from it!" + +"What do you want?" he asked, as he stood with one hand on the door, and +glaring at Oblomof as a sign of his surliness, at such an angle that he +had to look at his master out of the corner of his eyes; while his +master could see only one of his enormous side-whiskers, so bushy that +you might have expected to have two or three birds come flying out from +them. + +"My handkerchief, quick! You might have known what I wanted. Don't you +see?" remarked Ilya Ilyitch sternly. + +Zakhar displayed no special dissatisfaction or surprise at such an order +or such a reproach on his master's part, regarding both, so far as he +was concerned, as perfectly natural. + +"But who knows where your handkerchief is?" he grumbled, circling about +the room and making a careful examination of every chair, although it +could be plainly seen that there was nothing whatever on them. + +"It is a perfect waste of time," he remarked, opening the door into the +drawing-room in order to see if there was any sign of it there. + +"Where are you going? Look for it here; I have not been in that room +since day before yesterday. And make haste," urged Ilya Ilyitch. + +"Where is the handkerchief? There isn't any handkerchief," exclaimed +Zakhar rummaging and searching in every corner. + +"Oh, there it is," he suddenly cried angrily, "under you. There is the +end of it sticking out. You were lying on it, and yet you ask me to find +your handkerchief for you!" + +And Zakhar, without awaiting any reply, turned and started to go out. +Oblomof was somewhat ashamed of his own blunder. But he quickly +discovered another pretext for putting Zakhar in the wrong. + +"What kind of neatness do you call this everywhere here! Look at the +dust and dirt! Good heavens! look here, look here! See these corners! +You don't do anything at all." + +"And so I don't do anything," repeated Zakhar in a tone betokening deep +resentment. "I am growing old, I shan't live much longer! But God knows +I use the duster for the dust, and I sweep almost every day." + +He pointed to the middle of the floor, and at the table where Oblomof +had dined. "Here, look here," he went on: "it has all been swept and all +put in order, fit for a wedding. What more is needed?" + +"Well then, what is this?" cried Ilya Ilyitch, interrupting him and +calling his attention to the walls and the ceiling. "And that? and +that?" + +He pointed to a yesterday's napkin which had been flung down, and to a +plate which had been left lying on the table with a dry crust of bread +on it. + +"Well, as for that," said Zakhar as he picked up the plate, "I will take +care of it." + +"You will take care of it, will you? But how about the dust and the +cobwebs on the walls?" said Oblomof, making ocular demonstration. + +"I put that off till Holy Week; then I clean the sacred images and sweep +down the cobwebs." + +"But how about dusting the books and pictures?" + +"The books and pictures? Before Christmas; then Anisiya and I look over +all the closets. But now when should we be able to do it? You are always +at home." + +"I sometimes go to the theatre or go out to dine: you might--" + +"Do house-cleaning at night?" + +Oblomof looked at him reproachfully, shook his head, and uttered a sigh; +but Zakhar gazed indifferently out of the window and also sighed deeply. +The master seemed to be thinking, "Well, brother, you are even more of +an Oblomof than I am myself;" while Zakhar probably said to himself, +"Rubbish! You as my master talk strange and melancholy words, but how do +dust and cobwebs concern you?" + +"Don't you know that moths breed in dust?" asked Ilya Ilyitch. "I have +even seen bugs on the wall!" + +"Well, I have fleas on me sometimes," replied Zakhar in a tone of +indifference. + +"Well, is that anything to boast about? That is shameful," exclaimed +Oblomof. + +Zakhar's face was distorted by a smirking smile, which seemed to embrace +even his eyebrows and his side-whiskers, which for this reason spread +apart; and over his whole face up to his very forehead extended a ruddy +spot. + +"Why, am I to blame that there are bugs on the wall?" he asked in +innocent surprise: "was it I who invented them?" + +"They come from lack of cleanliness," insisted Oblomof. "What are you +talking about?" + +"I am not the cause of the uncleanliness." + +"But you have mice in your room there running about at night--I hear +them." + +"I did not invent the mice. There are all kinds of living +creatures--mice and cats and fleas--lots of them everywhere." + +"How is it that other people don't have moths and bugs?" + +Zakhar's face expressed incredulity, or rather a calm conviction that +this was not so. + +"I have plenty of them," he said without hesitation. "One can't look +after every bug and crawl into the cracks after them." + +It seemed to be his thought, "What kind of a sleeping-room would that be +that had no bugs in it?" + +"Now do you see to it that you sweep and brush them out of the corners; +don't let there be one left," admonished Oblomof. + +"If you get it all cleaned up it will be just as bad again to-morrow," +remonstrated Zakhar. + +"It ought not to be as bad," interrupted the master. + +"But it is," insisted the servant; "I know all about it." + +"Well then, if the dust collects again, brush it out again." + +"What is that you say? Brush out all the corners every day?" exclaimed +Zakhar. "What a life that would be! Better were it that God should take +my soul!" + +"Why are other people's houses clean?" urged Oblomof. "Just look at the +piano-tuner's rooms: see how neat they look, and only one maid--" + +"Oh, these Germans!" exclaimed Zakhar suddenly interrupting. "Where do +they make any litter? Look at the way they live! Every family gnaws a +whole week on a single bone. The coat goes from the father's back to the +son's, and back from the son's to the father's. The wives and daughters +wear little short skirts, and when they walk they all lift up their legs +like ducks--where do they get any dirt? They don't do as we do--leave a +whole heap of soiled clothes in the closet for a year at a time, or fill +up the corners with bread crusts for the winter. Their crusts are never +flung down at random: they make zweiback out of them, and eat them when +they drink their beer!" + +Zakhar expressed his disgust at such a penurious way of living by +spitting through his teeth. + +"Say nothing more," expostulated Ilya Ilyitch. "Do better work with your +house-cleaning." + +"One time I would have cleaned up, but you yourself would not allow it," +said Zakhar. + +"That is all done with! Don't you see I have entirely changed?" + +"Of course you have; but still you stay at home all the time: how can +one begin to clean up when you are right here? If you will stay out of +the house for a whole day, then I will have a general clearing-up." + +"What an idea! Get out of here. You had better go to your own room." + +"All right!" persisted Zakhar; "but I tell you, the moment you go out, +Anisiya and I will clear the whole place up. And we two would finish +with it in short metre; then you will want some women to wash +everything." + +"Oh, what schemes you invent! Women! away with you!" cried Ilya Ilyitch. + +He was by this time disgusted with himself for having led Zakhar into +this conversation. He had quite forgotten that the attainment of this +delicate object was at the expense of considerable confusion. Oblomof +would have liked a state of perfect cleanliness, but he would require +that it should be brought about in some imperceptible manner, as it were +of itself; but Zakhar always induced a discussion as soon as he was +asked to have any sweeping done, or the floors washed, and the like. In +such a contingency he was sure to point out the necessity of a terrible +disturbance in the house, knowing very well that the mere suggestion of +such a thing would fill his master with horror. + +Zakhar went away, and Oblomof relapsed into cogitation. After some +minutes the half-hour struck again. + +"What time is it?" exclaimed Ilya Ilyitch with a dull sense of alarm. +"Almost eleven o'clock! Can it be that I am not up yet nor had my bath? +Zakhar! Zakhar!" + +"Oh, good God! what is it now?" was heard from the ante-room, and then +the well-known thump of feet. + +"Is my bath ready?" asked Oblomof. + +"Ready? yes, long ago," replied Zakhar. "Why did you not get up?" + +"Why didn't you tell me it was ready? I should have got up long ago if +you had. Go on; I will follow you immediately. I have some business to +do; I want to write." + +Zakhar went out, but in the course of a few minutes he returned with a +greasy copy-book all scribbled over, and some scraps of paper. + +"Here, if you want to write--and by the way, be kind enough to verify +these accounts: we need the money to pay them." + +"What accounts? what money?" demanded Ilya Ilyitch with a show of +temper. + +"From the butcher, from the grocer, from the laundress, from the baker; +they all are clamoring for money." + +"Nothing but bother about money," growled Ilya Ilyitch. "But why didn't +you give them to me one at a time instead of all at once?" + +"You see you always kept putting me off: 'To-morrow,' always +'To-morrow.'" + +"Well, why shouldn't we put them off till to-morrow now?" + +"No! they are dunning you; they won't give any longer credit. +To-morrow's the first of the month." + +"Akh!" cried Oblomof in vexation, "new bother! Well, why are you +standing there? Put them on the table. I will get up immediately, take +my bath, and look them over," said Ilya Ilyitch. "Is it all ready for my +bath?" + +"What do you mean--'ready'?" said Zakhar. + +"Well, now--" + +With a groan he started to make the preliminary movement of getting up. + +"I forgot to tell you," began Zakhar, "while you were still asleep the +manager sent word by the dvornik that it was imperatively necessary that +you vacate the apartment: it is wanted." + +"Well, what of that? If the apartment is wanted of course we will move +out. Why do you bother me with it? This is the third time you have +spoken to me about it." + +"They bother me about it also." + +"Tell them that we will move out." + +"He says, 'For a month you have been promising,' says he, 'and still you +don't move out,' says he: 'we'll report the matter to the police.'" + +"Let him report," cried Oblomof resolutely: "we will move out as soon as +it is a little warmer, in the course of three weeks." + +"Three weeks, indeed! The manager says that the workmen are coming in a +fortnight: everything is to be torn out. 'Move,' says he, 'either +to-morrow or day after to-morrow.'" + +"Eh--eh--eh--that's too short notice: to-morrow? See here, what next? +How would this minute suit? But don't you dare speak a word to me about +apartments. I have already told you that once, and here you are again. +Do you hear?" + +"But what shall I do?" demanded Zakhar. + +"What shall you do? Now how is he going to get rid of me?" replied Ilya +Ilyitch. "He makes me responsible! How does it concern me? Don't you +trouble me any further, but make any arrangements you please, only so +that we don't have to move yet. Can't you do your best for your master?" + +"But Ilya Ilyitch, little father [batiushka], what arrangements shall I +make?" began Zakhar in a hoarse whisper. "The house is not mine; how can +we help being driven out of the place if they resort to force? If only +the house were mine, then I would with the greatest pleasure--" + +"There must be some way of bringing him around: tell him we have lived +here so long; tell him we'll surely pay him." + +"I have," said Zakhar. + +"Well, what did he say?" + +"What did he say? He repeated his everlasting 'Move out,' says he; 'we +want to make repairs on the apartment.' He wants to do over this large +apartment and the doctor's for the wedding of the owner's son." + +"Oh, my good Lord!" exclaimed Oblomof in despair; "what asses they are +to get married!" + +He turned over on his back. + +"You had better write to the owner, sir," said Zakhar. "Then perhaps he +would not drive us out, but would give us a renewal of the lease." + +Zakhar as he said this made a gesture with his right hand. + +"Very well, then; as soon as I get up I will write him. You go to your +room and I will think it over. You need not do anything about this," he +added; "I myself shall have to work at all this miserable business +myself." + +Zakhar left the room, and Oblomof began to ponder. + +But he was in a quandary which to think about,--his starosta's letter, +or the removal to new lodgings, or should he undertake to make out his +accounts? He was soon swallowed up in the flood of material cares and +troubles, and there he still lay turning from side to side. Every once +in a while would be heard his broken exclamation, "Akh, my God! life +touches everything, reaches everywhere!" + +No one knows how long he would have lain there a prey to this +uncertainty, had not the bell rung in the ante-room. + +"There is some one come already!" exclaimed Oblomof, wrapping himself up +in his khalat, "and here I am not up yet; what a shame! Who can it be so +early?" + +And still lying on his bed, he gazed curiously at the door. + + + + +THE BROTHERS DE GONCOURT + +EDMOND (1822-1896) JULES (1830-1870) + +[Illustration: EDMOND DE GONCOURT] + + +Edmond and Jules Huot De Goncourt, French writers who became famous +alike for the perfectness of their collaboration, the originality of +their methods, and the finish of their style, were born, the first in +Nancy in 1822, the other in Paris in 1830. Until the death of Jules in +1870 they wrote nothing for the public that did not bear both their +names; and so entirely identical were their tastes and judgment that it +is impossible to say of a single sentence they composed that it was the +sole product of one or the other. "Charming writers," Victor Hugo called +them; "in unison a powerful writer, two minds from which springs a +single jet of talent." Born of a noble family of moderate wealth, they +were educated as became their station in life. Both had an early leaning +toward the arts; but Edmond, in deference to the wishes of his family, +took a government appointment and held the office till the death of his +mother, when he was twenty-six years of age. Their father had died while +they were boys. + +Drawn together by their common bereavement and the death-bed injunction +of their parent that Edmond should be the careful guardian of his +younger brother, whose health had always been delicate, the young men +then began a companionship which was broken only by death. They set out +to make themselves acquainted with southern Europe, and at the same time +to escape the political turmoils of Paris; and extended their travels +into Africa, which country they found so congenial that in the first +ardor of their enthusiasm they determined to settle there. Business +arrangements, however, soon recalled them to Paris, where ties of +friendship and other agreeable associations bound them fast to their +native soil. They took up their residence in the metropolis, where they +lived until a short time before the death of Jules, when, to be free +from the roar of the city, they purchased a house in one of the suburbs. +Their intellectual development may be traced through their Journal and +letters to intimate friends, published by the surviving brother. From +these it appears that most of their leisure hours during their travels +were taken up with painting and drawing. Jules had attempted some +dramatic compositions while at college, and Edmond had been strongly +drawn to literature by the conversation of an aunt, of whom he saw much +before his mother's death. It was while engaged with their brushes in +1850 that it occurred to the brothers to take up writing as a regular +vocation; and thus was begun their remarkable literary partnership. + +Their first essay was a drama. It was rejected; whereupon, nothing +daunted, they wrote a novel. It was entitled '18--,' and it is +interesting to observe that here, at the very outset of their career, +they seem to have had in mind the keynote of the chord on which they +ever afterwards played: the eighteenth century was the chief source of +their inspiration, and it was their life's endeavor to explore it and +reproduce it for their contemporaries with painstaking fidelity. The +novel engaged their serious and earnest attention, and when it was given +to the publisher they watched for its appearance with painful anxiety. +Unfortunately it was announced for the very day on which occurred the +_Coup d'Etat_. The book came out when Paris was in an uproar; and though +Jules Janin, one of the most influential critics of the day, +unexpectedly exploited it at great length in the Journal des Debats, its +circulation in that first edition was not more than sixty copies, most +of which were distributed gratuitously. + +The blow was a hard one, but the brothers were not thus to be silenced, +nor by the subsequent failure of other dramatic ventures and an effort +to found a newspaper. They had been little more than imitators. They now +entered the field they soon made their own. The writers of their day +were for the most part classicists; a few before Victor Hugo were +romanticists. The De Goncourts stood for the modern, what they could see +and touch. In this way they became realists. What their own senses could +not apprehend they at once rejected; all they saw they deemed worthy to +be reproduced. They lived in a period of reconstruction after the +devastation of the revolution. The refinement and elegance of the +society of the later Bourbon monarchy, still within view, they yearned +for and sought to restore. A series of monographs dealing with the art +and the stage of these days, which appeared in 1851-2, won for them the +first real recognition they enjoyed. These were followed by various +critical essays on the same subjects, contributed to newspapers and +periodicals, and a novel, 'La Lorette,' which had a large sale and +marked the beginning of their success from a financial point of view. +"This makes us realize," they wrote in their Journal, "that one can +actually sell a book." + +Their reputation as men of letters was established by the publication in +1854-5 of 'Histoire de la Societe Pendant la Revolution' and the same +'Pendant le Directoire' the aim of which, they said, was "to paint in +vivid, simple colors the France of 1789 to 1800." This object they +accomplished, so far as it concerned the society of which they +themselves were descendants; but the reactionary spirit in them was too +strong for an impartial view of the struggle, and their lack of true +philosophic spirit and broad human sympathy led them to make a picture +that, interesting as it is, is sadly distorted. Their vivid colors are +lavished mainly on the outrages of the rioters and the sufferings of the +aristocrats. But for wealth of detail, the result of tireless research, +the history is of value as a record of the manners and customs of the +fashionable set of the period. Of the same sort were their other +semi-historical works: 'Portraits Intimes du XVIIIieme Siecle,' separate +sketches of about a hundred more or less well-known figures of the age; +'L'Histoire de Marie Antoinette,' and 'La Femme au XVIIIieme Siecle,' in +which the gossip and anecdote of former generations are told again +almost as graphically as are those which the authors relate of their own +circle in their memoirs. Their most important contribution to literature +was their 'L'Art au XVIIIieme Siecle,' monographs gathered and published +in seventeen volumes, and representing a dozen years' labor. This was +indeed a labor of love, and it was not in vain; for it was these +appreciative studies more than anything else that turned public +attention to the almost forgotten delicacy of the school of painters +headed by Watteau, Fragonard, Latour, Boucher, Debricourt, and Greuze, +whose influence has ever since been manifested on the side of sound +taste and sanity in French art. + +A volume entitled 'Idees et Sensations,' and their Journal and letters, +complete the list of the more important of their works outside the field +of fiction. The Journal will always be valuable as an almost complete +document of the literary history of France in their time, made up as it +is of impressions of and from the most important writers of the day, +with whom they were on terms of intimate friendship, including Flaubert, +Gautier, Renan, Sainte-Beuve, Hugo, Saint-Victor, Michelet, Zola, and +George Sand. In fiction the De Goncourts were less prolific, but it is +to their novels mainly that they owe their reputation for individuality, +and as true "path-breakers" in literature. They have been called the +initiators of modern French realism. Their friend Flaubert perhaps +better deserves the title. Their determination to see for themselves all +that could be seen, the result of which gave real worth to their +historical work, even where their prejudice robbed it of weight, was +what put the stamp of character upon their novels. How much importance +they attached to correct and comprehensive observation may be gathered +from their remark, "The art of learning how to see demands the longest +apprenticeship of all the arts." They took life as they found it, +examined it on every side,--rarely going far under the surface,--and +then sought to reproduce it on their pages as the artist would put it on +canvas. Capable of terseness, of suggestiveness, quick to note and +communicate the vital spark, they were yet rarely content with it alone. +Every minute particle of the body it vivified, they insisted on adding +to their picture. Nothing was to be taken for granted; as nothing was +accepted by them at second hand, so nothing was left to the imagination +of the reader until their comprehensive view was his. It was in this way +that they were realists. They did not seek out and expose to public view +the grossness and unpleasantness of life. Their own preference was for +the beautiful, and in their own lives they indulged their refined +tastes. But they looked squarely at the world about them, the ugly with +the beautiful, the impure with the pure, and they did not hesitate to +describe one almost as faithfully as the other. + +Curiously, the discrimination against the masses and the bias that mar +their history do not appear in their fiction. "They began writing +history which was nothing but romance," says one of their critics, "and +later wrote romance which in reality is history." Indeed, their novels +are little more than sketches of what occurred around them. 'Madame +Gervaisais' is a character study of the aunt of strong literary +predilections who influenced Edmond; 'Germinie Lacerteux' is the +biography of their servant, at whose death, after long and faithful +service, they discovered that she had led a life of singular duplicity; +'Soeur Philomene' is a terribly true glimpse of hospital life, and +'Manette Salomon,' with its half-human monkey drawn from the life, is +transferred without change from the Parisian studios under the Empire. +'Renee Mauperin' comes nearest to the model of an ordinary novel; but no +one can read of the innocent tomboy girl struck down with fatal remorse +at the consequences of her own natural action, on learning of her +brother's dishonor, without feeling that this picture too was drawn from +the life. Several of their stories were dramatized, but with scant +success; and a play which they wrote, 'Henriette Marechal' and had +produced at the Comedie Francaise through the influence of Princess +Mathilde, their constant friend and patroness, was almost howled +down,--chiefly however for political reasons. + +After the death of Jules de Goncourt, his brother wrote several books of +the same character as those which they produced in union, the best known +of which are 'La Fille Elisa,' and 'Cherie,' a study of a girl, said to +have been inspired by the Journal of Marie Bashkirtseff. The best +critics in France, notably Sainte-Beuve, have given the brothers +Goncourt a very high place in literature and conceded their originality. +English reviewers have been less ready to exalt them, mainly on account +of the offensive part of their realism. They have objected also to their +superficiality as historians, and to their sympathy with the sentimental +admirers of such types as Marie Antoinette; but they too have been ready +to praise the brothers as leaders of a new fashion, and especially for +their devotion to style. In this respect the Goncourts have few rivals +in French literature. Balzac himself was not more finical in the choice +of words, or more unsparing of his time and energy in writing and +re-writing until his exact meaning, no more or less, had been expressed; +and they covered up the marks of their toil better than he. In a letter +to Zola, Edmond de Goncourt said:--"My own idea is that my brother died +of work, and above all from the desire to elaborate the artistic form, +the chiseled phrase, the workmanship of style." He himself spent a long +life at this fine artistry, and died in Paris in July, 1896. + + + +TWO FAMOUS MEN + +From the Journal of the De Goncourts + + +March 3D [1862].--We took a walk and went off to find Theophile +Gautier.... The street in which he lives is composed of the most squalid +countrified buildings, of court-yards swarming with poultry, fruit shops +whose doors are ornamented with little brooms of black feathers: just +such a suburban street as Hervier might have painted.... We pushed open +the door of a house, and found ourselves in the presence of the lord of +epithet. The furniture was of gilded wood, covered with red damask, +after the heavy Venetian style; there were fine old pictures of the +Italian school; above the chimney a mirror innocent of quicksilver, on +which were scraped colored arabesques and various Persian +characters,--such a picture of meagre sumptuousness and faded splendor +as one would find in the rooms of a retired actress, who had come in for +some pictures through the bankruptcy of an Italian manager. + +When we asked him if we were disturbing him, he answered: "Not at all. I +never work at home. I get through my 'copy' at the printing-office. They +set up the type as I write. The smell of the printers' ink is a sure +stimulant to work, for one feels the 'copy' must be handed in. I could +write only a novel in this way now; unless I saw ten lines printed I +could not get on to the next ten. The proof-sheet serves as a test to +one's work. That which is already done becomes impersonal, but the +actual 'copy' is part of yourself; it hangs like filaments from the root +of your literary life, and has not yet been torn away. I have always +been preparing corners where I should do my work, but when installed +there I found I could do nothing. I must be in the midst of things, and +can work only when a racket is going on about me; whereas, when I shut +myself up for work the solitude tells upon me and makes me sad." + +From there Gautier got on the subject of the 'Queen of Sheba.' We +admitted our infirmity, our physical incapacity of taking in musical +sound; and indeed, a military band is the highest musical enjoyment of +which we are capable. Whereupon Gautier said, "Well, I'm delighted to +hear that: I am just like you; I prefer silence to music. I do know bad +music from good, because part of my life was spent with a singer, but +both are quite indifferent to me. Still it is curious that all the +literary men of our day feel the same about music. Balzac abhorred it, +Hugo cannot endure it, Lamartine has a horror of it. There are only a +few painters who have a taste for it." + +Then Gautier fell to complaining of the times. "Perhaps I am getting an +old man, but I begin to feel as if there were no more air to breathe. +What is the use of wings if there is no air in which one can soar? I no +longer feel as if I belonged to the present generation. Yes, 1830 was a +glorious epoch, but I was too young by two or three years; I was not +carried away by the current; I was not ready for it. I ought to have +produced a very different sort of work." + +There was then some talk of Flaubert, of his literary methods, of his +indefatigable patience, and of the seven years he devoted to a work of +four hundred pages. "Just listen," observed Gautier, "to what Flaubert +said to me the other day: 'It is finished. I have only ten more pages to +write; but the ends of my sentences are all in my head.' So that he +already hears in anticipation the music of the last words of his +sentences before the sentences themselves have been written. Was it not +a quaint expression to use? I believe he has devised a sort of literary +rhythm. For instance, a phrase which begins in slow measure must not +finish with a quick pace, unless some special effect is to be produced. +Sometimes the rhythm is only apparent to himself, and escapes our +notice. A story is not written for the purpose of being read aloud: yet +he shouts his to himself as he writes them. These shouts present to his +own ears harmonies, but his readers seem unaware of them." + +Gautier's daughters have a charm of their own, a species of Oriental +languor, deep dreamy eyes, veiled by heavy eyelids, and a regularity in +their gestures and movements which they inherit from their father; but +this regularity is tempered in them by womanly grace. There is a charm +about them which is not all French; nevertheless there is a French +element about it, their little tomboyish tricks and expressions, their +habit of pouting, the shrugging of their shoulders, the irony which +escapes through the thin veil of childishness intended to conceal it. +All these points distinguish them from ordinary society girls, and make +clear a strong individuality of character which renders them fearless in +expressing their likings and antipathies. They display liberty of +speech, and have often the manner of a woman whose face is hidden by a +mask; and yet one finds here simplicity, candor, and a charming absence +of reserve, utterly unknown to the ordinary young girl. + + * * * * * + +November 23D [1863].--We have been to thank Michelet for the flattering +lines he wrote about us. + +He lives in the Rue de l'Ouest, at the end of the Jardin du Luxembourg, +in a large house which might almost be workmen's dwellings. His flat is +on the third floor. A maid opened the door and announced us. We +penetrated into a small study. + +The wife of the historian has a young, serious face; she was seated on a +chair beside the desk on which the lamp was placed, with her back to the +window. Michelet sat on a couch of green velvet, and was banked up by +cushions. + +His attitude reminded us of his historical work: the lower portions of +his body were in full sight, whilst the upper were half concealed; the +face was a mere shadow surrounded with snowy white locks; from this +shadowy mass emerged a professorial, sonorous, singsong voice, +consciously important, and in which the ascending and descending scale +produced a continuous cooing sound. + +He spoke to us in a most appreciative manner of our study of Watteau, +and then passed on to the interesting study which might be written on +French furniture. + +"You gentlemen, who are observers of human nature," he cried suddenly, +"there is a history you should write,--the history of the lady's-maid. I +do not speak of Madame de Maintenon; but you have Mademoiselle de +Launai, the Duchesse de Grammont's Julie, who exercised on her mistress +so great an influence, especially in the Corsican affair. Madame Du +Deffand said sometimes that there were only two people sincerely +attached to her, D'Alembert and her maid. Oh! domesticity has played a +great part in history, though men-servants have been of comparative +unimportance.... + +"I was once going through England, traveling from York to Halifax. There +were pavements in the country lanes, with the grass growing on each side +as carefully kept as the pavements themselves; close by, sheep were +grazing, and the whole scene was lit up by gas. A singular sight!" + +Then after a short pause:--"Have you noticed that the physiognomy of the +great men of to-day is so rarely in keeping with their intellect? Look +at their portraits, their photographs: there are no longer any good +portraits. Remarkable people no longer possess in their faces anything +which distinguishes them from ordinary folk. Balzac had nothing +characteristic. Would you recognize Lamartine if you saw him? There is +nothing in the shape of his head, or in his lustreless eyes, nothing but +a certain elegance which age has not affected. The fact is that in these +days there is too great an accumulation of people and things, much more +so than in former times. We assimilate too much from other people, and +this being the case, we lose even the individuality of our features; we +present the portrait of a collective set of people rather than of +ourselves." + +We rose to take our leave; he accompanied us to the door; then by the +light of the lamp he carried in his hand we saw, for a second at least, +this marvelous historian of dreams, the great somnambulist of the past +and brilliant talker of the present. + + + +THE SUICIDE + +From 'Sister Philomene' + + +The next morning the whole hospital knew that Barnier, having scratched +his hand on the previous day while dissecting a body in a state of +purulent infection, was dying in terrible agonies. + +When at four o'clock Malivoire, quitting for a few moments the bedside +of his friend, came to replace him in the service, the Sister went up to +him. She followed from bed to bed, dogging his steps, without however +accosting him, without speaking, watching him intently with her eyes +fixed on his. As he was leaving the ward:-- + +"Well?" she asked, in the brief tone with which women stop the doctor on +his last visit at the threshold of the room. + +"No hope," said Malivoire, with a gesture of despair; "there is nothing +to be done. It began at his right ankle, went up the leg and thigh, and +has attacked all the articulations. Such agonies, poor fellow! It will +be a mercy when it's over." + +"Will he be dead before night?" asked the Sister calmly. + +"Oh no! He will live through the night. It is the same case as that of +Raguideau three years ago; and Raguideau lasted forty-eight hours." + +That evening, at ten o'clock, Sister Philomene might be seen entering +the church of Notre Dame des Victoires. + +The lamps were being lowered, the lighted tapers were being put out one +by one with a long-handled extinguisher. The priest had just left the +vestry. + +The Sister inquired where he lived, and was told that his house was a +couple of steps from the church, in the Rue de la Banque. + +The priest was just going into the house when she entered behind, +pushing open the door he was closing. + +"Come in, Sister," he said, unfurling his wet umbrella and placing it on +the tiled floor in the ante-room. And he turned toward her. She was on +her knees. "What are you doing, Sister?" he said, astonished at her +attitude. "Get up, my child. This is not a fit place. Come, get up!" + +"You will save him, will you not?" and Philomene caught hold of the +priest's hands as he stretched them out to help her to rise. "Why do you +object to my remaining on my knees?" + +"Come, come, my child, do not be so excited. It is God alone, remember, +who can save. I can but pray." + +"Ah! you can only pray," she said in a disappointed tone. "Yes, that is +true." + +And her eyes sank to the ground. After a moment's pause the priest went +on:-- + +"Come, Sister, sit down there. You are calmer now, are you not? Tell me, +what is it you want?" + +"He is dying," said Philomene, rising as she spoke. "He will probably +not live through the night;" and she began to cry. "It is for a young +man of twenty-seven years of age; he has never performed any of his +religious duties, never been near a church, never prayed to God since +his first communion. He will refuse to listen to anything. He no longer +knows a prayer even. He will listen neither to priest nor any one. And I +tell you it is all over with him,--he is dying. Then I remembered your +Confraternity of Notre Dame des Victoires, since it is devoted to those +who do not believe. Come, you must save him!" + +"My daughter--" + +"And perhaps he is dying at this very moment. Oh! promise me you will do +all at once, all that is in the Confraternity book; the +prayers,--everything, in short. You will have him prayed for at once, +won't you?" + +"But, my poor child, it is Friday to-day, and the Confraternity only +meets on Thursday." + +"Thursday only--why? It will be too late Thursday. He will never live +till Thursday. Come, you must save him; you have saved many another." + +Sister Philomene looked at the priest with wide-opened eyes, in which +through her tears rose a glance of revolt, impatience, and command. For +one instant in that room there was no longer a Sister standing before a +priest, but a woman face to face with an old man. + +The priest resumed:-- + +"All I can do at present for that young man, my dear daughter, is to +apply to his benefit all the prayers and good works that are being +carried on by the Confraternity, and I will offer them up to the Blessed +and Immaculate Heart of Mary to obtain his conversion. I will pray for +him to-morrow at mass, and again on Saturday and Sunday." + +"Oh, I am so thankful," said Philomene, who felt tears rise gently to +her eyes as the priest spoke to her. "Now I am full of hope; he will be +converted, he will have pity on himself. Give me your blessing for him." + +"But Sister, I only bless from the altar, in the pulpit, or in the +confessional. There only am I the minister of God. Here, my Sister, here +I am but a weak man, a miserable sinner." + +"That does not signify; you are always God's minister, and you cannot, +you would not, refuse me; he is at the point of death." + +She fell on her knees as she spoke. The priest blessed her, and added:-- + +"It is nearly eleven o'clock, Sister; you have nearly three miles to get +home, all Paris to cross at this late hour." + +"Oh, I am not afraid," replied Philomene with a smile; "God knows why I +am in the street. Moreover, I will tell my beads on the way. The Blessed +Virgin will be with me."... + +The same evening, Barnier, rousing himself from a silence that had +lasted the whole day, said to Malivoire, "You will write to my mother. +You will tell her that this often happens in our profession." + +"But you are not yet as bad as all that, my dear fellow," replied +Malivoire, bending over the bed. "I am sure I shall save you." + +"No, I chose my man too well for that. How well I took you in, my poor +Malivoire!" and he smiled almost. "You understand, I could not kill +myself. I did not wish to be the death of my old mother. But an +accident--that settles everything. You will take all my books, do you +hear? and my case of instruments also. I wish you to have all. You +wonder why I have killed myself, don't you? Come nearer. It is on +account of that woman. I never loved but her in all my life. They did +not give her enough chloroform; I told them so. Ah! if you had heard her +scream when she awoke--before it was over! That scream still re-echoes +in my ears! However," he continued, after a nervous spasm, "if I had to +begin again, I would choose some other way of dying, some way in which I +should not suffer so much. Then, you know, she died, and I fancied I had +killed her. She is ever before me,... covered with blood.... And then I +took to drinking. I drank because I love her still.... That's all!" + +Barnier relapsed into silence. After a long pause, he again spoke, and +said to Malivoire:-- + +"You will tell my mother to take care of the little lad." + +After another pause, the following words escaped him:-- + +"The Sister would have said a prayer." + +Shortly after, he asked:-- + +"What o'clock is it?" + +"Eleven." + +"Time is not up yet;... I have still some hours to live.... I shall last +till to-morrow." + +A little later he again inquired the time, and crossing his hands on his +breast, in a faint voice he called Malivoire and tried to speak to him. +But Malivoire could not catch the words he muttered. + +Then the death-rattle began, and lasted till morn.... + +A candle lighted up the room. + +It burnt slowly, it lighted up the four white walls on which the coarse +ochre paint of the door and of the two cupboards cut a sharp +contrast.... + +On the iron bedstead with its dimity curtains, a sheet lay thrown over a +motionless body, molding the form as wet linen might do, indicating with +the inflexibility of an immutable line the rigidity, from the tip of the +toes to the sharp outline of the face, of what it covered. + +Near a white wooden table Malivoire, seated in a large wicker arm-chair, +watched and dozed, half slumbering and yet not quite asleep. + +In the silence of the room nothing could be heard but the ticking of the +dead man's watch. + +From behind the door something seemed gently to move and advance, the +key turned in the lock, and Sister Philomene stood beside the bed. +Without looking at Malivoire, without seeing him, she knelt down and +prayed in the attitude of a kneeling marble statue; and the folds of her +gown were as motionless as the sheet that covered the dead man. + +At the end of a quarter of an hour she rose, walked away without once +looking round, and disappeared. + +The next day, awaking at the hollow sound of the coffin knocking against +the narrow stairs, Malivoire vaguely recalled the night's apparition, +and wondered if he had dreamed it; and going mechanically up to the +table by the bedside, he sought for the lock of hair he had cut off for +Barnier's mother: the lock of hair had vanished. + + + +THE AWAKENING + +From 'Renee Mauperin' + + +A little stage had been erected at the end of the Mauperins' +drawing-room. The footlights were hidden behind a screen of foliage and +flowering shrubs. Renee, with the help of her drawing-master, had +painted the curtain, which represented a view on the banks of the Seine. +On either side of the stage hung a bill, on which were these words, +written by hand:-- + + LA BRICHE THEATRE + THIS EVENING, + + 'THE CAPRICE,' + + To conclude with + 'HARLEQUIN, A BIGAMIST.' + +And then followed the names of the actors. + +On all the chairs in the house, which had been seized and arranged in +rows before the stage, women in low gowns were squeezed together, mixing +their skirts, their lace, the sparkle of their diamonds, and the +whiteness of their shoulders. The folding doors of the drawing-room had +been taken down, and showed, in the little drawing-room which led to the +dining-room, a crowd of men in white neckties, standing on tiptoe. + +The curtain rose upon 'The Caprice.' Renee played with much spirit the +part of Madame de Lery. Henry, as the husband, revealed one of those +real theatrical talents which are often found in cold young men and in +grave men of the world. Naomi herself--carried away by Henry's acting, +carefully prompted by Denoisel from behind the scenes, a little +intoxicated by her audience--played her little part of a neglected wife +very tolerably. This was a great relief to Madame Bourjot. Seated in the +front row, she had followed her daughter with anxiety. Her pride dreaded +a failure. The curtain fell, the applause burst out, and all the company +were called for. Her daughter had not been ridiculous; she was happy in +this great success, and she composedly gave herself up to the speeches, +opinions, congratulations, which, as in all representations of private +theatricals, followed the applause and continued in murmurs. Amidst all +that she thus vaguely heard, one sentence, pronounced close by her, +reached her ears clear and distinct above the buzz of general +conversation:--"Yes, it is his sister, I know; but I think that for the +part he is not sufficiently in love with her, and really too much in +love with his wife: did you notice it?" And the speaker, feeling that +she was being overheard by Madame Bourjot, leaned over and whispered in +her neighbor's ear. Madame Bourjot became serious. + +After a pause the curtain went up again, and Henry Mauperin appeared as +Pierrot or Harlequin, not in the traditional sack of white calico and +black cap, but as an Italian harlequin, with a white three-cornered hat, +and dressed entirely in white satin from head to foot. A shiver of +interest ran through the women, proving that the costume and the man +were both charming; and the folly began. + +It was the mad story of Pierrot, married to one woman and wishing to +marry another; a farce intermingled with passion, which had been +unearthed by a playwright, with the help of a poet, from a collection of +old comic plays. Renee this time acted the part of the neglected woman, +who in various disguises interfered between her husband and his gallant +adventures, and Naomi that of the woman he loved. Henry, in his scenes +of love with the latter, carried all before him. He played with youth, +with brilliancy, with excitement. In the scene in which he avows his +love, his voice was full of the passionate cry of a declaration which +overflows and swamps everything. True, he had to act with the prettiest +Columbine in the world: Naomi looked delicious that evening in her +bridal costume of Louis XVI., copied exactly from the 'Bride's Minuet,' +a print by Debucourt, which Barousse had lent for the purpose. + +A sort of enchantment filled the whole room, and reached Madame Bourjot; +a sort of sympathetic complicity with the actors seemed to encourage the +pretty couple to love one another. The piece went on. Now and again +Henry's eyes seemed to look for those of Madame Bourjot, over the +footlights. Meanwhile, Renee appeared disguised as the village bailiff; +it only remained to sign the contract; Pierrot, taking the hand of the +woman he loved, began to tell her of all the happiness he was going to +have with her. + +The woman who sat next to Madame Bourjot felt her lean somewhat on her +shoulder. Henry finished his speech, the piece disentangled itself and +came to an end. All at once Madame Bourjot's neighbor saw something +glide down her arm; it was Madame Bourjot, who had just fainted. + + * * * * * + +"Oh, do pray go indoors," said Madame Bourjot to the people who were +standing around her. She had been carried into the garden. "It is past +now; it is really nothing; it was only the heat." She was quite pale, +but she smiled. "I only want a little air. Let M. Henry only stay with +me." + +The audience retired. Scarcely had the sound of feet died away, +when--"You love her!" said Madame Bourjot, seizing Henry's arm as though +she were taking him prisoner with her feverish hands; "you love her!" + +"Madame--" said Henry. + +"Hold your tongue! you lie!" And she threw his arm from her. Henry +bowed.--"I know all. I have seen all. But look at me!" and with her eyes +she closely scanned his face. Henry stood before her, his head +bent.--"At least speak to me! You can speak, at any rate! Ah, I see +it,--you can only act in her company!" + +"I have nothing to say to you, Laura," said Henry in his softest and +clearest voice. Madame Bourjot started at this name of Laura as though +he had touched her. "I have struggled for a year, madame," began Henry; +"I have no excuse to make. But my heart is fast. We knew each other as +children. The charm has grown day by day. I am very unhappy, madame, at +having to acknowledge the truth to you. I love your daughter, that is +true." + +"But have you ever spoken to her? I blush for her when there are people +there! Have you ever looked at her? Do you think her pretty? What +possesses you men? Come! I am better-looking than she is! You men are +fools. And besides, my friend, I have spoiled you. Go to her and ask her +to caress your pride, to tickle your vanity, to flatter and to serve +your ambitions,--for you are ambitious: I know you! Ah, M. Mauperin, one +can only find that once in a lifetime! And it is only women of my age, +old women like me,--do you hear me?--who love the future of the people +whom they love! You were not my lover, you were my grandchild!" And at +this word, her voice sounded as though it came from the bottom of her +heart. Then immediately changing her tone--"But don't be foolish! I tell +you you don't really love my daughter; it is not true: she is rich!" + +"O madame!" + +"Good gracious! there are lots of people. They have been pointed out to +me. It pays sometimes to begin with the mother and finish with the +dower. And a million, you know, will gild a good many pills." + +"Speak lower, I implore--for your own sake: some one has just opened a +window." + +"Calmness is very fine, M. Mauperin, very fine, very fine," repeated +Madame Bourjot. And her low, hissing voice seemed to stifle her. + +Clouds were scudding across the sky, and passed over the moon looking +like huge bats' wings. Madame Bourjot gazed fixedly into the darkness, +straight in front of her. Her elbows resting on her knees, her weight +thrown on to her heels, she was beating with the points of her satin +shoes the gravel of the path. After a few minutes she sat upright, +stretched out her arms two or three times wildly and as though but half +awake; then, hastily and with jerks, she pushed her hand down between +her gown and her waistband, pressing her hand against the ribbon as +though she would break it. Then she rose and began to walk. Henry +followed her. + +"I intend, sir, that we shall never see each other again," she said to +him, without turning round. + +As they passed near the basin, she handed him her handkerchief:-- + +"Wet that for me." + +Henry put one knee on the margin and gave her back the lace, which he +had moistened. She laid it on her forehead and on her eyes. "Now let us +go in," she said; "give me your arm." + +"Oh, dear madame, what courage!" said Madame Mauperin, going to meet +Madame Bourjot as she entered; "but it is unwise of you. Let me order +your carriage." + +"On no account," answered Madame Bourjot hastily: "I thank you. I +promised that I would sing for you, I think. I am going to sing." + +And Madame Bourjot advanced to the piano, graceful and valiant, with the +heroic smile on her face wherewith the actors of society hide from the +public the tears that they shed within themselves, and the wounds which +are only known to their own hearts. + + + + +EDMUND GOSSE + +(1849-) + + +Edmund William Gosse, or Edmund Gosse, to give him the name he has of +late years adopted, is a Londoner, the son of P.H. Gosse, an English +zoologist of repute. His education did not embrace the collegiate +training, but he was brought up amid cultured surroundings, read +largely, and when but eighteen was appointed an assistant librarian in +the British Museum, at the age of twenty-six receiving the position of +translator to the Board of Trade. Gosse is a good example of the +cultivated man of letters who fitted himself thoroughly for his +profession, though lacking the formal scholastic drill of the +university. + +He began as a very young man to write for the leading English +periodicals, contributing papers and occasional poems to the Saturday +Review, Academy, and Cornhill Magazine, and soon gaining critical +recognition. In 1872 and 1874 he traveled in Scandinavia and Holland, +making literary studies which bore fruit in one of his best critical +works. He made his literary bow when twenty-one with the volume +'Madrigals, Songs, and Sonnets' (1870), which was well received, winning +praise from Tennyson. His essential qualities as a verse-writer appear +in it: elegance and care of workmanship, close study of nature, felicity +in phrasing, and a marked tendency to draw on literary culture for +subject and reference. Other works of poetry, 'On Viol and Flute' +(1873), 'New Poems' (1879), 'Firdausi in Exile' (1885), 'In Russet and +Gold' (1894), with the dramas 'King Erik' (1876) and 'The Unknown Lover' +(1878), show an increasingly firm technique and a broadening of outlook, +with some loss of the happy singing quality which characterized the +first volume. Gosse as a poet may be described as a lyrist with +attractive descriptive powers. Together with his fellow poets Lang and +Dobson, he revived in English verse the old French metrical forms, such +as the roundel, triolet, and ballade, and he has been very receptive to +the new in literary form and thought, while keeping a firm grip on the +classic models. + +As an essayist, Gosse is one of the most accomplished and agreeable of +modern English writers; he has comprehensive culture and catholic +sympathy, and commands a picturesque style, graceful and rich without +being florid. His 'Studies in the Literature of Northern Europe' (1879) +introduced Ibsen and other little-known foreign writers to British +readers. + +Gosse has been a thorough student of English literature prior to the +nineteenth century, and has made a specialty of the literary history of +the eighteenth century, his series of books in this field +including--'Seventeenth-Century Studies' (1883), 'From Shakespeare to +Pope' (1885), 'The Literature of the Eighteenth Century' (1889), 'The +Jacobean Poets' (1894), to which may be added the volume of +contemporaneous studies 'Critical Kit-Kats' (1896). Some of these books +are based on the lectures delivered by Gosse as Clark Lecturer at +Trinity College, Cambridge. He has also written biographies of Sir +Walter Raleigh and Congreve, and his 'Life of Thomas Gray' (1882) and +'Works of Thomas Gray' (1884) comprise the best edition and +setting-forth of that poet. In such labors as that of the editing of +Heinemann's 'International Library,' his influence has been salutary in +the popularization of the best literature of the world. His interest in +Ibsen led him to translate, in collaboration with William Archer, the +dramatic critic of London, the Norwegian's play 'The Master Builder.' + +Edmund Gosse, as editor, translator, critic, and poet, has done varied +and excellent work. Sensitive to many literatures, and to good +literature everywhere, he has remained stanchly English in spirit, and +has combined scholarship with popular qualities of presentation. He has +thus contributed not a little to the furtherance of literature in +England. + + [The poems are all taken from 'On Viol and Flute,' published + by Henry Holt & Co., New York.] + + + +FEBRUARY IN ROME + + + When Roman fields are red with cyclamen, + And in the palace gardens you may find, + Under great leaves and sheltering briony-bind, + Clusters of cream-white violets, oh then + The ruined city of immortal men + Must smile, a little to her fate resigned, + And through her corridors the slow warm wind + Gush harmonies beyond a mortal ken. + Such soft favonian airs upon a flute, + Such shadowy censers burning live perfume, + Shall lead the mystic city to her tomb; + Nor flowerless springs, nor autumns without fruit, + Nor summer mornings when the winds are mute, + Trouble her soul till Rome be no more Rome. + + + +DESIDERIUM + + + Sit there for ever, dear, and lean + In marble as in fleeting flesh, + Above the tall gray reeds that screen + The river when the breeze is fresh; + For ever let the morning light + Stream down that forehead broad and white, + And round that cheek for my delight. + + Already that flushed moment grows + So dark, so distant: through the ranks + Of scented reed the river flows, + Still murmuring to its willowy banks; + But we can never hope to share + Again that rapture fond and rare, + Unless you turn immortal there. + + There is no other way to hold + These webs of mingled joy and pain; + Like gossamer their threads enfold + The journeying heart without a strain,-- + Then break, and pass in cloud or dew, + And while the ecstatic soul goes through, + Are withered in the parching blue. + + Hold, Time, a little while thy glass. + And Youth, fold up those peacock wings! + More rapture fills the years that pass + Than any hope the future brings; + Some for to-morrow rashly pray, + And some desire to hold to-day, + But I am sick for yesterday. + + Since yesterday the hills were blue + That shall be gray for evermore, + And the fair sunset was shot through + With color never seen before! + Tyrannic Love smiled yesterday, + And lost the terrors of his sway, + But is a god again to-day. + + Ah, who will give us back the past? + Ah woe, that youth should love to be + Like this swift Thames that speeds so fast, + And is so fain to find the sea,-- + That leaves this maze of shadow and sleep, + These creeks down which blown blossoms creep, + For breakers of the homeless deep. + + Then sit for ever, dear, in stone, + As when you turned with half a smile, + And I will haunt this islet lone, + And with a dream my tears beguile; + And in my reverie forget + That stars and suns were made to set; + That love grows cold, or eyes are wet. + + + +LYING IN THE GRASS + + + Between two golden tufts of summer grass, + I see the world through hot air as through glass, + And by my face sweet lights and colors pass. + + Before me dark against the fading sky, + I watch three mowers mowing, as I lie: + With brawny arms they sweep in harmony. + + Brown English faces by the sun burnt red, + Rich glowing color on bare throat and head,-- + My heart would leap to watch them, were I dead! + + And in my strong young living as I lie, + I seem to move with them in harmony,-- + A fourth is mowing, and the fourth am I. + + The music of the scythes that glide and leap, + The young men whistling as their great arms sweep, + And all the perfume and sweet sense of sleep, + + The weary butterflies that droop their wings, + The dreamy nightingale that hardly sings, + And all the lassitude of happy things, + + Is mingling with the warm and pulsing blood, + That gushes through my veins a languid flood, + And feeds my spirit as the sap a bud. + + Behind the mowers, on the amber air, + A dark-green beech wood rises, still and fair, + A white path winding up it like a stair. + + And see that girl, with pitcher on her head, + And clean white apron on her gown of red,-- + Her evensong of love is but half said: + + She waits the youngest mower. Now he goes; + Her cheeks are redder than a wild blush-rose; + They climb up where the deepest shadows close. + + But though they pass, and vanish, I am there. + I watch his rough hands meet beneath her hair; + Their broken speech sounds sweet to me like prayer. + + Ah! now the rosy children come to play, + And romp and struggle with the new-mown hay; + Their clear, high voices sound from far away. + + They know so little why the world is sad; + They dig themselves warm graves, and yet are glad; + Their muffled screams and laughter make me mad! + + I long to go and play among them there; + Unseen, like wind, to take them by the hair, + And gently make their rosy cheeks more fair. + + The happy children! full of frank surprise, + And sudden whims and innocent ecstasies; + What Godhead sparkles from their liquid eyes! + + No wonder round those urns of mingled clays + That Tuscan potters fashioned in old days, + And colored like the torrid earth ablaze, + + We find the little gods and Loves portrayed, + Through ancient forests wandering undismayed, + And fluting hymns of pleasure unafraid. + + They knew, as I do now, what keen delight + A strong man feels to watch the tender flight + Of little children playing in his sight. + + I do not hunger for a well-stored mind; + I only wish to live my life, and find + My heart in unison with all mankind. + + My life is like the single dewy star + That trembles on the horizon's primrose bar,-- + A microcosm where all things living are. + + And if, among the noiseless grasses, Death + Should come behind and take away my breath, + I should not rise as one who sorroweth: + + For I should pass, but all the world would be + Full of desire and young delight and glee,-- + And why should men be sad through loss of me? + + The light is flying: in the silver blue + The young moon shines from her bright window through: + The mowers are all gone, and I go too. + + + + +RUDOLF VON GOTTSCHALL + +(1823-) + +[Illustration: R. VON GOTTSCHALL] + + +Rudolf Von Gottschall was born in Breslau, September 30th, 1823. He was +the son of a Prussian artillery officer, and as a lad gave early +evidence of extraordinary talent. His father was transferred to the +Rhine, and young Gottschall was sent successively to the gymnasiums of +Mainz and Coblenz. Even in his school days, and before he entered the +university, he had through his cleverness attained a certain degree of +eminence. His career at the University of Koenigsberg, whither he went to +pursue the study of jurisprudence, was interrupted by the results +attendant upon a youthful ebullition of the spirit of freedom. His +sympathy with the revolutionary element was too boldly expressed, +and when in 1842 he published 'Lieder der Gegenwart' (Songs of the +Present), he found it necessary to leave the university in order to +avert impending consequences. In the following year he published +'Censurfluechtlinge' (Fugitives from the Censor), a poem of a kind not in +the least likely to conciliate the authorities. He remained for a time +with Count Reichenbach in Silesia, and then went to Berlin, where he was +allowed to complete his studies. He was however refused the privilege of +becoming a university docent, although he had regularly taken his degree +of _Dr. Juris_. + +He now devoted himself wholly to poetry and general literature. For a +while he held the position of stage manager in the theatre of +Koenigsberg, and during this period produced the dramas 'Der Blinde von +Alcala' (The Blind Man of Alcala: 1846), and 'Lord Byron in Italien' +(Lord Byron in Italy: 1848). After leaving Koenigsberg he frequently +changed his residence, living in Hamburg and Breslau, and later in +Posen, where in 1852 he was editor of a newspaper. In 1853 he went to +Italy, and after his return he settled in Leipzig. Here he definitely +established himself, and undertook the editing of Blaetter fuer +Litterarische Unterhaltung (Leaves for Literary Amusement), and also of +the monthly periodical Unsere Zeit (Our Time). He wrote profusely, and +exerted an appreciable influence upon contemporary literature. He was +ennobled by the Emperor in 1877. + +As a poet and man of letters, Gottschall possesses unusual gifts, and is +a writer of most extraordinary activity. His fecundity is astonishing, +and the amount of his published work fills many volumes. His versatility +is no less remarkable than his productiveness. Dramatist and critic, +novelist and poet,--in all his various fields he is never mediocre. +Chief among his dramatic works are the tragedies 'Katharina Howard'; +'King Carl XII.'; 'Bernhard of Weimar'; 'Amy Robsart'; 'Arabella +Stuart'; and the excellent comedy 'Pitt and Fox.' Of narrative poems the +best known are 'Die Goettin, ein Hohes Lied vom Weibe' (The Goddess, a +Song of Praise of Woman), 1852; 'Carlo Zeno,' 1854; and 'Sebastopol,' +1856. + +He has published numerous volumes of verses which take a worthy rank in +the poetry of the time. His first 'Gedichte' (Poems) appeared in 1849; +'Neue Gedichte' (New Poems) in 1858; 'Kriegslieder'(War Songs) in 1870; +and 'Janus' and 'Kriegs und Friedens Gedichte' (Poems of War and Peace) +in 1873. In his novels he is no less successful, and of these may be +mentioned--'Im Banne des Schwarzen Adlers' (In the Ban of the Black +Eagle: 1876); 'Welke Blaetter' (Withered Leaves: 1878); and 'Das Goldene +Kalb' (The Golden Calf: 1880). + +It is however chiefly as critic that his power has been most widely +exerted, and prominent among the noteworthy productions of later years +stand his admirable 'Portraets und Studien' (Portraits and Studies: +1870-71); and 'Die Deutsche Nationallitteratur in der Ersten Haelfte des +19. Jahrhunderts' (The German National Literature in the First Half of +the Nineteenth Century: 1855), continued to the present time in 1892, +when the whole appeared as 'The German National Literature of the +Nineteenth Century.' + + + +HEINRICH HEINE + +From 'Portraits and Studies' + + +About no recent poet has so much been said and sung as about Heinrich +Heine. The youngest writer, who for the first time tries his pen, does +not neglect to sketch with uncertain outlines the portrait of this poet; +and the oldest sour-tempered professor of literature, who turns his back +upon the efforts of the present with the most distinguished disapproval, +lets fall on the picture a few rays of light, in order to prove the +degeneration of modern literature in the Mephistophelean features of +this its chief. Heine's songs are everywhere at home. They are to be +found upon the music rack of the piano, in the school-books, in the +slender libraries of minor officers and young clerks. However difficult +it may be to compile an _editio castigata_ of his poems, every age, +every generation has selected from among them that which has delighted +it. Citations from Heine, winged words in verse and prose, buzz through +the air of the century like a swarm of insects: splendid butterflies +with gayly glistening wings, beautiful day moths and ghostly night +moths, tormenting gnats, and bees armed with evil stings. Heine's works +are canonical books for the intellectual, who season their judgments +with citations from this poet, model their conversation on his style, +interpret him, expand the germ cell of his wit to a whole fabric of +clever developments. Even if he is not a companion on the way through +life, like great German poets, and smaller Brahmins who for every day of +our house-and-life calendar give us an aphorism on the road, there are +nevertheless, in the lives of most modern men, moods with which Heine's +verse harmonize with wondrous sympathy; moments in which the intimacy +with this poet is greater than the friendship, even if this be of longer +duration, with our classic poets. + +It is apparently idle to attempt to say anything new of so much +discussed a singer of modern times, since testimony favorable and +unfavorable has been drained to exhaustion by friend and foe. Who does +not know Heine,--or rather, who does not believe that he knows him? for, +as is immediately to be added, acquaintance with this poet extends +really only to a few of his songs, and to the complete picture which is +delivered over ready-made from one history of literature into another. +Nothing, however, is more perilous and more fatal than literary +tradition! Not merely decrees and laws pass along by inheritance, like a +constitutional infirmity, but literary judgments too. They form at last +a subject of instruction like any other; a dead piece of furniture in +the spiritual housekeeping, which, like everything that has been +learned, is set as completed to one side. We know enough of this sort of +fixed pictures, which at last pass along onward as the fixed ideas of a +whole epoch, until a later unprejudiced investigation dissolves this +rigid-grown wisdom, sets it to flowing, and forms out of a new mixture +of its elements a new and more truthful portrait. + +It is not to be affirmed however that Heine's picture, as it stands +fixed and finished in the literature and the opinion of the present, is +mistaken and withdrawn. It is dead, like every picture; there is lacking +the living, changing play of features. We have of Heine only one picture +before us; of our great poets several. Goethe in his "storm and stress," +in Frankfurt, Strassburg, and Wetzlar,--the ardent lover of a Friedrike +of Sesenheim, the handsome, joyous youth, is different in our minds from +the stiff and formal Weimar minister; the youthful Apollo different from +the Olympic Jupiter. There lies a young development between, that we +feel and are curious to know. It is similar with Schiller. The poet of +the 'Robbers' with its motto _In tyrannos_, the fugitive from the +military school; and the Jena professor, the Weimar court councilor who +wrote 'The Homage of the Arts,'--are two different portraits. + +But Heine is to our view always the same, always the representative of +humor with "a laughing tear" in his escutcheon, always the poetic +anomaly, coquetting with his pain and scoffing it away. Young or old, +well or ill, we do not know him different. + +And yet this poet too had a development, upon which at different times +different influences worked.... + +The first epoch in this course of development may be called the +"youthful"; the 'Travel Pictures' and the lyrics contained in it form +its brilliant conclusion. This is no storm-and-stress period in the way +that, as Schiller and Goethe passed through it, completed works first +issued under its clarifying influence. On the contrary, it is +characteristic of Heine that we have to thank this youthful epoch for +his best and most peculiarly national poems. The wantonness and the +sorrows of this youth, in their piquant mixture, created these songs +permeated by the breath of original talent, whose physiognomy, more than +all that follow later, bears the mark of the kind and manner peculiar to +Heine, and which for a long time exercised in our literature through a +countless host of imitators an almost epidemic effect. But these lyric +pearls, which in their purity and their crystalline polish are a lasting +adornment of his poet's crown, and belong to the lyric treasures of our +national literature, were also gathered in his first youthful epoch, +when he still dived down into the depths of life in the diving-bell of +romanticism. + +Although Heinrich Heine asserted of himself that he belonged to the +"first men of the century," since he was born in the middle of New +Year's night, 1800, more exact investigation has nevertheless shown +that truth is here sacrificed to a witticism. Heine is still a child of +the eighteenth century, by whose most predominant thoughts his work too +is influenced, and with whose European coryphaeus, Voltaire, he has an +undeniable relationship. He was born, as Strodtmann proves, on the 13th +of December, 1799, in Duesseldorf, His father was a plain cloth-merchant; +his mother, of the family Von Geldern, the daughter of a physician of +repute. The opinion, however, that Heine was the fruit of a +Jewish-Christian marriage, is erroneous. The family Von Geldern belonged +to the orthodox Jewish confession. One of its early members, according +to family tradition, although he was a Jew, had received the patent of +nobility from one of the prince electors of Juelich-Kleve-Berg, on +account of a service accorded him. As, moreover, Schiller's and Goethe's +mothers worked upon their sons an appreciable educational influence, so +was this also the case with Heine's mother, who is described as a pupil +of Rousseau and an adorer of Goethe's elegies, and thus reached far out +beyond the measure of the bourgeois conditions in which she lived.... + +That which however worked upon his youthful spirit, upon his whole +poetical manner, was the French sovereignty in the Rhine-lands at the +time of his childhood and youth. The Grand Duchy of Berg, to which +Duesseldorf belonged, was ruled in the French manner; a manner which, +apart from the violent conscriptions, when compared with the Roman +imperial periwig style had great advantages, and in particular granted +to Jews complete equal rights with Christians, since the revolutionary +principle of equality had outlived the destruction of freedom. Thus the +Jews in Duesseldorf in their greater part were French sympathizers, and +Heine's father too was an ardent adherent of the new regime. This as a +matter of course could not remain without influence upon the son, so +much the less as he had French instruction at the lyceum. A vein of the +lively French blood is unmistakable in his works. It drew him later on +to Paris, where he made the martyr stations of his last years. And of +all recent German poets, Heinrich Heine is the best known in France, +better known even than our classic poets; for the French feel this vein +of related blood.... + +From his youth springs, too, Heine's enthusiasm for the great Napoleon, +which however he has never transmitted to the successors of the _idees +Napoleoniennes_. The thirteen-year-old pupil of the gymnasium saw the +Emperor in the year 1811, and then again in May 1812; and later on in +the 'Book Legrand' of the 'Travel Pictures' he strikes up the following +dithyrambic, which, as is always the case with Heine where the great +Caesar is concerned, tones forth pure and full, with genuine poetic +swing, without those dissonances in which his inmost feelings often +flow. "What feelings came over me," he exclaims, "when I saw him +himself, with my own highly favored eyes, him himself, Hosanna, the +Emperor! It was in the avenue of the Court garden in Duesseldorf. As I +pushed myself through the gaping people, I thought of his deeds and his +battles, and my heart beat the general march--and nevertheless, I +thought at the same time of the police regulation that no one under a +penalty of five thalers should ride through the middle of the avenue. +And the Emperor rode quietly through the middle of the avenue; no +policeman opposed him. Behind him, his suite rode proudly on snorting +horses and loaded with gold and jewels, the trumpets sounded, and the +people shouted with a thousand voices, 'Long live the Emperor!'" To this +enthusiasm for Napoleon, Heine not long afterward gave a poetic setting +in the ballad 'The Two Grenadiers.'... + +The Napoleonic remembrances of his youth, which retained that unfading +freshness and enthusiasm that are wont to belong to all youthful +remembrances, were of vital influence upon Heine's later position in +literature; they formed a balance over against the romantic tendency, +and hindered him from being drawn into it. Precisely in that epoch when +the beautiful patriotism of the Wars of Liberation went over into the +weaker feeling of the time of the restoration, and romanticism, grown +over-devout, in part abandoned itself to externals, in part became a +centre of reactionary efforts, Heine let this Napoleonic lightning play +on the sultry heavens of literature, in the most daring opposition to +the ruling disposition of the time and a school of poetry from which he +himself had proceeded; while he declared war upon its followers. However +greatly he imperiled his reputation as a German patriot through these +hosannas offered to the hereditary enemy, just as little was it to be +construed amiss that the remembrance of historical achievements, and of +those principles of the Revolution which even the Napoleonic despotism +must represent, were a salutary ventilation in the miasmic atmosphere of +the continually decreasing circle which at that time described German +literature. In the prose of Heine, which like Beranger glorified Caesar, +slumbered the first germs of the political lyric, which led again out of +the moonlit magic realm of romanticism into the sunny day of history. + +A hopeless youthful love for a charming Hamburg maiden was the Muse of +the Heine lyric, whose escutcheon has for a symbol "the laughing tear." +With the simplicity of Herodotus the poet himself relates the fact, the +experience, in the well-known poem with the final strophe:-- + + "It is an ancient story, + But still 'tis ever new: + To whomsoe'er it happens + His heart is broken too." + +We comprehend from biographical facts the inner genesis of the Heine +lyric. Heine was in the position of Werther, but a Werther was for the +nineteenth century an anomaly; a lyric of this sort in yellow nankeen +breeches would have travestied itself. The content of the range of +thought, the circle of world-shaping efforts, had so expanded itself +since the French Revolution that a complete dissolution into sentimental +extravagance had become an impossibility. The justification of the +sentiment was not to be denied; but it must not be regarded as the +highest, as the life-determining element. It needed a rectification +which should again rescue the freedom of the spirit. Humor alone could +accomplish Munchausen's feat, and draw itself by its own hair out of the +morass. Heine expressed his feelings with genuine warmth; he formed them +into drawn pictures and visions; but then he placed himself on the +defensive against them. He is the modern Werther, who instead of loading +his pistol with a ball, loads it with humor. Artistic harmony suffered +under this triumph of spiritual freedom; but that which appeared in his +imitators as voluntary quibbling came from Heine of inner necessity. The +subject of his first songs is the necessary expression of a struggle +between feeling and spirit, between the often visionary dream life of a +sentiment and self-consciousness, soaring free out over the world, which +adjudged absorption in a single feeling as one-sided and unjustified. +Later on, to be sure, these subjects of youthful inspiration became in +Heine himself a satiric-humoristic manner, which regarded as a model +worked much evil in literature. In addition to personal necessity +through one's own experience, there was for a genius such as Heine's +also a literary necessity, which lay in the development of our +literature in that epoch. It was the Indian Summer of romanticism, whose +cobwebs at this time flew over the stubble of our poetry. The vigorous +onset of the lyricists of the Wars of Liberation had again grown lame; +people reveled in the album sentiments of Tiedge and Mahlmann; the +spectres of Amadeus Hoffmann and the lovely high-born maidens of knight +Fouque were regarded then as the noblest creations of German fantasy. +Less chosen spirits, that is to say, the entire great reading public of +the German nation, which ever felt toward its immortals a certain +aversion, refreshed itself with the lukewarm water of the poetry of +Clauren, from out of which, instead of the Venus Anadyomene, appear a +Mimili and other maiden forms, pretty, but drawn with a stuffed-out +plasticism. On the stage reigned the "fate tragedies" upon whose lyre +the strings were wont to break even in the first scene, and whose ghosts +slipped silently over all the German boards. In a word, spirits +controlled the poetry of the time more than spirit. + +Heine however was a genuine knight of the spirit, and even if he +conjured up his lyric spectres, he demanded no serious belief in +them--they were dissolving pictures of mist; and if he followed his +overflowing feelings, the mawkish sentiments of romanticism occurred to +him and disgusted him with the extravagant expression of his love pain, +and he mocked himself, the time, and the literature,--dissolved the +sweet accords in glaring dissonances, so that they should not be in tune +with the sentimental street songs of the poets of the day. In these +outer and inner reasons lie the justification and the success of the +lyric poetry of Heine. It designates an act of self-consciousness of the +German spirit, which courageously lifts itself up out of idle love +complainings and fantastic dream life, and at the same time mocks them +both. An original talent like Heine's was needed to give to the derided +sentiment such a transporting magic, to the derision itself such an +Attic grace, that the sphinx of his poetry, with the beautiful face and +the rending claws, always produced the impression of a work of art. The +signification in literary history of these songs of Heine is not to be +underestimated. They indicate the dissolution of romanticism, and with +them begins the era of modern German poetry. + + Translated for 'A Library of the World's Best Literature,' + by William H. Carpenter + + + + +JOHN GOWER + +(1325?-1408) + +[Illustration: JOHN GOWER] + + +Since Caxton, the first printer of 'Confessio Amantis' (The Confession +of a Lover), described Gower as a "squyer borne in Walys in the tyme of +Kyng Richard the second," there has been a diversity of opinion about +his birthplace, and he has been classed variously with prosperous Gowers +until of late, when the county assigned to him is Kent. His birth-year +is placed approximately at 1325. We know nothing of his early life and +education. It has been guessed that he went to Oxford, and afterwards +traveled in the troubled kingdom of France. Such a course might have +been followed by a man of his estate. He had means, for English property +records (in this instance the rolls of Chancery, the parchment +foundation of English society) still preserve deeds of his holdings in +Kent and Essex and elsewhere. + +His life lay along with that of Chaucer's, in the time when Edward III. +and his son the Black Prince were carrying war into France, and the +English Parliament were taking pay in plain speaking for what they +granted in supplies, and wresting at the same time promises of reform +from the royal hand. But Gower and Chaucer were not only contemporaries: +they were of like pursuit, tastes, and residence; they were friends; and +when Chaucer under Richard II., the grandson and successor of Edward, +went to France upon the mission of which Froissart speaks, he named John +Gower as one of his two attorneys while he should be away. Notice of +Gower's marriage to Agnes Groundolf late in life--in 1397--is still +preserved. Three years after this he became blind,--it was the year +1400, in which Chaucer died,--and in 1408 he died. + + "The infirm poet," says Morley, "spent the evening of his + life at St. Mary Overies [St. Mary-over-the-River], in + retirement from all worldly affairs except pious and liberal + support of the advancing building works in the priory, and in + the church now known as St. Saviour's [Southwark], to which + he bequeathed his body. His will, made not long before death, + bequeathed his soul to God, his body to be buried in St. + Mary Overies. The poet bequeathed also 13_s._ 4_d._ to each + of the four parish churches of Southwark for ornaments and + lights, besides 6_s._ 8_d._ for prayers to each of their + curates. It is not less characteristic that he left also + 40_s._ for prayers to the master of St. Thomas's Hospital, + and, still for prayers, 6_s._ 8_d._ to each of its priests, + 3_s._ 4_d._ to each Sister in the hospital, twenty pence to + each nurse of the infirm there, and to each of the infirm + twelve pence. There were similar bequests to St. Thomas + Elsing Spital, a priory and hospital that stood where now + stands Sion College. St. Thomas Elsing Spital, founded in + 1329 by William Elsing, was especially commended to the + sympathies of the blind old poet, as it consisted of a + college for a warden, four priests, and two clerks, who had + care of one hundred old, blind, and poor persons of both + sexes, preference being given to blind, paralytic, and + disabled priests. Like legacies were bequeathed also to + Bedlam-without-Bishopsgate, and to St. Mary's Hospital, + Westminster. Also there were bequests of ten shillings to + each of the leper-nurses. Two robes (one of white silk, the + other of blue baudekin,--a costly stuff with web of gold and + woof of silk), also a new dish and chalice, and a new missal, + were bequeathed to the perpetual service of the altar of the + chapel of St. John the Baptist, in which his body was to be + buried. To the prior and convent he left a great book, a + 'Martyrology,' which had been composed and written for them + at his expense. To his wife Agnes he left a hundred pounds, + three cups, one coverlet, two salt-cellars, and a dozen + silver spoons; also all his beds and chests, with the + furnishings of hall, pantry, and kitchen; also a chalice and + robe for the altar of the chapel of their house; and she was + to have for life all rents due to him from his manors of + Southwell (in Nottingham) and Moulton (in Suffolk)." + +His wife was one of his executors. The will is still preserved at +Lambeth Palace. + +Gower's tomb and monument may also still be seen at St. Saviour's, where +the description Berthelet gave of them in 1532 is, aside from the +deadening of the paintings, true:--"Somewhat after the olde ffashion he +lyeth ryght sumptuously buryed, with a garland on his head, in token +that he in his lyfe dayes flouryshed freshely in literature and +science." The head of his stone effigy lies upon three volumes +representing Gower's three great works; the hair falls in long curls; +the robe is closely buttoned to the feet, which rest upon a lion, and +the neck is encircled with a collar, from which a chain held a small +swan, the badge of Henry IV. "Besyde on the wall where as he lyeth," +continues Berthelet, "there be peynted three virgins, with crownes on +theyr heades; one of the which is written _Charitie_, and she holdeth +this devise in her hande:-- + + 'En toy qui fitz de Dieu le Pere + Sauve soit que gist souz cest piere.' + + (In thee, who art Son of God the Father, + Be he saved who lieth under this stone.) + +"The second is wrytten _Mercye_, which holdeth in her hande this +devise:-- + + 'O bone Jesu fait ta mercy + Al alme dont le corps gist icy.' + + (O good Jesus, grant thy mercy + To the soul whose body lies here.) + +"The thyrde of them is wrytten _Pity_, which holdeth in her hand this +devise:-- + + 'Pur ta pite, Jesu regarde, + Et met cest alme en sauve garde.'" + + (For thy pity, Jesus, see; + And take this soul in thy safe guard.) + +The monument was repaired in 1615, 1764, and 1830. + +The three works which pillow the head of the effigy indicate Gower's +'Speculum Meditantis' (The Looking-Glass of One Meditating), which the +poet wrote in French; the 'Vox Clamantis' (The Voice of One Crying), in +Latin; and the 'Confessio Amantis,' in English. It should be remembered +in noting this mixture of tongues, that in Gower's early life the +English had no national speech. The court, Parliament, nobles, and the +courts of law used French; the Church held its service in Latin; while +the inhabitants of Anglo-Saxon blood clung to the language of their +fathers, which they had modified by additions from the Norman tongue. It +was not until 1362 that Parliament was opened by a speech in English. +"There is," says Dr. Pauli, "no better illustration of the singular +transition to the English language than a short enumeration and +description of Gower's writings." Of the 'Speculum Meditantis,' a +treatise in ten books on the duties of married life, no copy is known to +exist. The 'Vox Clamantis' was the voice of the poet, singing in Latin +elegiac of the terrible evils which led to the rise of the commons and +their march to London under Wat Tyler and Jack Straw in 1381. It is +doubtless a true picture of the excesses and miseries of the day. The +remedy, the poet says, is in reform--right living and love of England. +Simony in the prelates, avarice and drunkenness in the libidinous +priests, wealth and luxury in the mendicant orders, miscarrying of +justice in the courts, enrichment of individuals by excessive +taxes,--these are the subjects of the voice crying in the wilderness. + +Gower's greatest work, however, is the 'Confessio Amantis.' In form it +is a dialogue between a lover and his confessor, who is a priest of +Venus. In substance it is a setting-forth, with moralizings which are at +times touching and elevated, of one hundred and twelve different +stories, from sources so different as the Bible, Ovid, Josephus, the +'Gesta Romanorum,' Valerius Maximus, Statius, Boccaccio, etc. Thirty +thousand eight-syllabled rhymed lines make up the work. There are +different versions. The first was dedicated to Richard II., and the +second to his successor, Henry of Lancaster. Besides these large works, +a number of French ballades, and also English and Latin short poems, are +preserved. "They have real and intrinsic merit," says Todd: "they are +tender, pathetic, and poetical, and place our old poet Gower in a more +advantageous point of view than that in which he has heretofore been +usually seen." + +Estimates of Gower's writings are various; but even his most hostile +judges admit the pertinence of the epithet with which Chaucer hails him +in his dedication of 'Troilus and Creseide':-- + + "O morall Gower, this booke I direct + To thee and to the philosophicall Strode, + To vouchsafe there need is to correct + Of your benignities and zeales good." + +Then Skelton the laureate, in his long song upon the death of Philip +Sparrow (which recalls the exquisite gem of Catullus in a like +threnody), takes occasion to say:-- + + "Gower's englysshe is olde, + And of no value is tolde; + His matter is worth gold, + And worthy to be enrold." + +And again:-- + + Gower that first garnished our English rude." + +Old Puttenham also bears this testimony:--"But of them all [the English +poets] particularly this is myne opinion, that Chaucer, with Gower, +Lidgate, and Harding, for their antiquitie ought to have the first +place." + +Taine dismisses him with little more than a fillip, and Lowell, while +discoursing appreciatively on Chaucer, says:-- + + "Gower has positively raised tediousness to the precision of + science; he has made dullness an heirloom for the students of + our literary history. As you slip to and fro on the frozen + levels of his verse, which give no foothold to the mind; as + your nervous ear awaits the inevitable recurrence of his + rhyme, regularly pertinacious as the tick of an eight-day + clock, and reminding you of Wordsworth's + + 'Once more the ass did lengthen out + The hard dry seesaw of his horrible bray,' + + you learn to dread, almost to respect, the powers of this + indefatigable man. He is the undertaker of the fair mediaeval + legend, and his style has the hateful gloss, the seemingly + unnatural length, of a coffin." + +Yet hear Morley:-- + + "To this day we hear among our living countrymen, as was to + be heard in Gower's time and long before, the voice passing + from man to man, that in spite of admixture with the thousand + defects incident to human character, sustains the keynote of + our literature, and speaks from the soul of our history the + secret of our national success. It is the voice that + expresses the persistent instinct of the English mind to find + out what is unjust among us and undo it, to find out duty to + be done and do it, as God's bidding.... In his own Old + English or Anglo-Saxon way he tries to put his soul into his + work. Thus in the 'Vox Clamantis' we have heard him asking + that the soul of his book, not its form, be looked to; and + speaking the truest English in such sentences as that 'the + eye is blind and the ear deaf, that convey nothing down to + the heart's depth; and the heart that does not utter what it + knows is as a live coal under ashes. If I know little, there + may be another whom that little will help.... But to the man + who believes in God, no power is unattainable if he but + rightly feels his work; he ever has enough, whom God + increases.' This is the old spirit of Caedmon and of Bede; in + which are laid, while the earth lasts, the strong foundations + of our literature. It was the strength of such a temper in + him that made Gower strong. 'God knows,' he says again, 'my + wish is to be useful; that is the prayer that directs my + labor.' And while he thus touches the root of his country's + philosophy, the form of his prayer--that what he has written + may be what he would wish it to be--is still a thoroughly + sound definition of good English writing. His prayer is that + there may be no word of untruth, and that 'each word may + answer to the thing it speaks of, pleasantly and fitly; that + he may flatter in it no one, and seek in it no praise above + the praise of God.'" + +The part of Gower's writing here brought before the reader is the +quaintly told and charming story of Petronella, from 'Liber Primus' of +the 'Confessio.' It may be evidence that all the malediction upon the +poet above quoted is not deserved. + +The 'Confessio Amantis' has been edited and collated with the best +manuscripts by Dr. Reinhold Pauli (1857). The 'Vox Clamantis' was +printed for the first time in 1850, under the editorship of H. O. Coxe +and for the Roxburghe Club. The 'Balades and Other Poems' are also +included in the publication of the Roxburghe Club. Other sources of +information regarding Gower are 'Illustrations of the Lives and Writings +of Gower and Chaucer' by Henry J. Todd (1810); Henry Morley's reviews in +'English Writers'; and various short articles. + + + +PETRONELLA + +From the 'Confessio Amantis' + + + A king whilom was yonge and wise, + The which set of his wit great prise. + Of depe ymaginations + And straunge interpretations, + Problemes and demaundes eke + His wisedom was to finde and seke; + Wherof he wolde in sondry wise + Opposen hem that weren wise. + But none of hem it mighte bere + Upon his word to yive answere;[1] + Out taken one, which was a knight: + To him was every thing so light, + That also sone as he hem herde + The kinges wordes he answerde, + What thing the king him axe wolde, + Whereof anone the trouth he tolde. + The king somdele had an envie, + And thought he wolde his wittes plie + To sete some conclusion, + Which shulde be confusion + Unto this knight, so that the name + And of wisdom the highe fame + Toward him selfe he wolde winne. + And thus of all his wit withinne + This king began to studie and muse + What straunge mater he might use + The knightes wittes to confounde; + And ate last he hath it founde, + And for the knight anon he sente, + That he shall telle what he mente. + Upon three points stood the matere, + Of questions as thou shalte here. + The firste pointe of all thre + Was this: what thing in his degre + Of all this world hath nede lest, + And yet men helpe it allthermest. + The second is: what moste is worth + And of costage is lest put forth. + The thrid is: which is of most cost, + And lest is worth, and goth to lost. + The king these thre demaundes axeth. + To the knight this law he taxeth: + That he shall gone, and comen ayein + The thridde weke, and tell him pleine + To every point, what it amounteth. + And if so be that he miscounteth + To make in his answere a faile, + There shall none other thinge availe, + The king saith, but he shall be dede + And lese his goodes and his hede. + This knight was sory of this thinge, + And wolde excuse him to the kinge; + But he ne wolde him nought forbere, + And thus the knight of his answere + Goth home to take avisement. + But after his entendement + The more he cast his wit about, + The more he stant thereof in doubte. + Tho[2] wist he well the kinges herte, + That he the deth ne shulde asterte,[3] + And suche a sorroe to him hath take + That gladship he hath all forsake. + He thought first upon his life, + And after that upon his wife, + Upon his children eke also, + Of whiche he had doughteres two. + The yongest of hem had of age + Fourtene yere, and of visage + She was right faire, and of stature + Lich to an hevenlich figure, + And of maner and goodly speche, + Though men wolde all landes seche, + They shulden nought have founde her like. + She sigh[4] her fader sorroe and sike,[5] + And wist nought the cause why. + So cam she to him prively, + And that was wher he made his mone + Within a gardin all him one.[6] + Upon her knees she gan down falle + With humble herte, and to him calle + And saide:--"O good fader dere, + Why make ye thus hevy chere,[7] + And I wot nothinge how it is? + And well ye knowe, fader, this, + What adventure that you felle + Ye might it saufly to me telle; + For I have ofte herd you saide, + That ye such truste have on me laide, + That to my suster ne to my brother + In all this worlde ne to none other + Ye durste telle a privete + So well, my fader, as to me. + Forthy,[8] my fader, I you praie + Ne casteth nought that hert[9] awaie, + For I am she that wolde kepe + Your honour." And with that to wepe + Her eye may nought be forbore;[10] + She wisheth for to ben unbore,[11] + Er[12] that her fader so mistriste + To tellen her of that he wiste. + And ever among mercy[13] she cride, + That he ne shulde his counseil hide + From her, that so wolde him good + And was so nigh flesshe and blood. + So that with weping, ate laste + His chere upon his childe he caste, + And sorroefully to that she praide[14] + He tolde his tale, and thus he saide:-- + "The sorroe, doughter, which I make + Is nought all only for my sake, + But for the bothe and for you alle. + For suche a chaunce is me befalle, + That I shall er this thridde day + Lese all that ever I lese may, + My life and all my good therto. + Therefore it is I sorroe so." + "What is the cause, alas," quod she, + "My fader, that ye shulden be + Dede and destruied in suche a wise?" + And he began the points devise, + Which as the king tolde him by mouthe, + And said her pleinly, that he couthe + Answeren to no point of this. + And she, that hereth howe it is, + Her counseil yaf[15] and saide tho[16]:-- + "My fader, sithen it is so, + That ye can se none other weie, + But that ye must nedes deie, + I wolde pray you of o[17] thinge,-- + Let me go with you to the kinge, + And ye shall make him understonde, + How ye, my wittes for to fonde, + Have laid your answere upon me, + And telleth him in such degre + Upon my worde ye wol abide + To life or deth, what so betide. + For yet perchaunce I may purchace + With some good word the kinges grace, + Your life and eke your good to save. + For ofte shall a woman have + Thing, whiche a man may nought areche." + The fader herd his doughters speche, + And thought there was no reson in, + And sigh his owne life to winne + He couthe done himself no cure.[18] + So better him thought in aventure + To put his life and all his good, + Than in the manner as it stood, + His life incertein for to lese. + And thus thenkend he gan to chese + To do the counseil of this maid, + And toke the purpose which she said. + The day was comen, and forth they gone; + Unto the court they come anone, + Where as the kinge in his jugement + Was set and hath this knight assent. + Arraied in her beste wise, + This maiden with her wordes wise + Her fader ledde by the honde + Into the place,[19] where he fonde + The king with other which he wolde; + And to the king knelend he tolde + As he enformed was to-fore, + And praith the king, that he therfore + His doughters wordes wolde take; + And saith, that he woll undertake + Upon her wordes for to stonde. + Tho was ther great merveile on honde, + That he, which was so wise a knight, + His life upon so yonge a wight + Besette wolde in jeopartie, + And many it helden for folie. + But at the laste, netheles, + The king commaundeth ben in pees, + And to this maide he cast his chere,[20] + And saide he wolde her tale here, + And bad her speke; and she began:-- + "My lege lord, so as I can," + Quod she, "the pointes which I herde, + They shull of reson ben answerde. + The first I understonde is this: + What thinge of all the worlde it is, + Which men most helpe and hath lest nede. + My lege lord, this wolde I rede: + The erthe it is, which evermo + With mannes labour is bego + As well in winter as in maie. + The mannes honde doth what he may + To helpe it forth and make it riche, + And forthy men it delve and diche, + And even it with strength of plough, + Wher it hath of him self inough + So that his nede is ate leste. + For every man, birde, and beste + Of flour and gras and roote and rinde + And every thing by way of kinde + Shall sterve, and erthe it shall become + As it was out of erthe nome,[21] + It shall be therthe torne ayein.[22] + And thus I may by reson sein + That erthe is the most nedeles + And most men helpe it netheles; + So that, my lord, touchend of this + I have answerde how that it is. + That other point I understood, + Which most is worth, and most is good, + And costeth lest a man to kepe: + My lorde, if ye woll take kepe,[23] + I say it is humilite, + Through whiche the high Trinite + As for deserte of pure love + Unto Marie from above, + Of that he knewe her humble entente, + His owne Sone adown he sente + Above all other, and her he chese + For that vertu, which bodeth pees. + So that I may by reson calle + Humilite most worthe of alle, + And lest it costeth to mainteine + In all the worlde, as it is seine. + For who that hath humblesse on honde, + He bringeth no werres into londe, + For he desireth for the best + To setten every man in reste. + Thus with your highe reverence + Me thenketh that this evidence + As to this point is suffisaunt. + And touchend of the remenaunt, + Which is the thridde of your axinges, + What lest is worth of alle thinges, + And costeth most, I telle it pride, + Which may nought in the heven abide. + For Lucifer with hem that felle + Bar pride with him into helle. + There was pride of to grete cost + Whan he for pride hath heven lost; + And after that in Paradise + Adam for pride lost his prise + In middel-erth. And eke also + Pride is the cause of alle wo, + That all the world ne may suffice + To staunche of pride the reprise. + Pride is the heved[24] of all sinne, + Which wasteth all and may nought winne; + Pride is of every mis[25] the pricke[26]; + Pride is the worste of all wicke, + And costeth most and lest is worth + In place where he hath his forth. + Thus have I said that I woll say + Of min answere, and to you pray, + My lege lorde, of your office, + That ye such grace and suche justice + Ordeigne for my fader here, + That after this, whan men it here, + The world therof may speke good." + The king, which reson understood, + And hath all herde how she hath said, + Was inly glad, and so well paid, + That all his wrath is over go. + And he began to loke tho + Upon this maiden in the face, + In which he found so mochel grace, + That all his prise on her he laide + In audience, and thus he saide:-- + "My faire maide, well the[27] be + Of thin answere, and eke of the + Me liketh well, and as thou wilte, + Foryive be thy faders gilte. + And if thou were of such lignage, + That thou to me were of parage, + And that thy fader were a pere, + As he is now a bachelere, + So siker as I have a life, + Thou sholdest thanne be my wife. + But this I saie netheles, + That I woll shape thin encrese; + What worldes good that thou wolt crave + Are of my yift, and thou shalt have." + And she the king with wordes wise, + Knelende, thanketh in this wise:-- + "My lege lord, god mot you quite.[28] + My fader here hath but a lite + Of warison,[29] and that he wende + Had all be[30] lost, but now amende + He may well through you noble grace." + With that the king right in his place + Anon forth in that freshe hete + An erldome, which than of eschete + Was late falle into his honde, + Unto this knight with rent and londe + Hath yove, and with his chartre sesed, + And thus was all the noise appesed. + This maiden, which sate on her knees + To-fore the kinges charitees, + Commendeth and saith evermore:-- + "My lege lord, right now to-fore + Ye saide, and it is of recorde, + That if my fader were a lorde + And pere unto these other grete, + Ye wolden for nought elles lette, + That I ne sholde be your wife. + And thus wote every worthy life + A kinges worde mot nede be holde. + Forthy my lord, if that ye wolde + So great a charite fulfille, + God wote it were well my wille. + For he which was a bachelere, + My fader, is now made a pere; + So whan as ever that I cam, + An erles doughter nowe I am." + This yonge king, which peised[31] all + Her beaute and her wit withall, + As he, which was with love hente,[32] + Anone therto gaf his assente. + He might nought the place asterte, + That she nis lady of his herte. + So that he toke her to his wife + To holde, while that he hath life. + And thus the king toward his knight + Accordeth him, as it is right. + And over this good is to wite[33] + In the cronique as it is write, + This noble kinge, of whom I tolde, + Of Spaine by tho daies olde + The kingdom had in governaunce, + And as the boke maketh remembraunce, + Alphonse was his propre name. + The knight also, if I shall name, + Danz Petro hight, and as men telle, + His doughter wise Petronelle + Was cleped, which was full of grace. + And that was sene in thilke place, + Where she her fader out of tene[34] + Hath brought and made her selfe a quene, + Of that she hath so well desclosed + The points whereof she was opposed. + + [1] No one could solve his puzzles. + + [2] For. + + [3] Escape. + + [4] Saw. + + [5] Sigh. + + [6] Own. + + [7] Care. + + [8] Therefore. + + [9] Heart. + + [10] Cannot endure it. + + [11] Unborn. + + [12] Ere. + + [13] In the midst of pity (for him). + + [14] In answer to her prayer. + + [15] Gave. + + [16] Thus. + + [17] One. + + [18] Saw that he could do nothing to save his own life. + + [19] Palace. + + [20] Turned his attention. + + [21] Taken. + + [22] Shall turn thereto again. + + [23] Heed. + + [24] Head. + + [25] Mischief. + + [26] Core. + + [27] Thee. + + [28] May God requite you. + + [29] Has had but little reward. + + [30] Been. + + [31] Poised--weighed. + + [32] Seized. + + [33] Know. + + [34] Destruction. + + + + +[ILLUSTRATION: ULYSSES S. GRANT] + + + + +ULYSSES S. GRANT + +(1822-1885) + +BY HAMLIN GARLAND + + +Ulysses Grant was born on the 27th of April, 1822, in a small two-room +cabin situated in Point Pleasant, a village in southern Ohio, about +forty miles above Cincinnati. His father, Jesse R. Grant, was a +powerful, alert, and resolute man, ready of speech and of fair education +for the time. His family came from Connecticut, and was of the earliest +settlers in New England. Hannah Simpson, his wife, was of strong +American stock also. The Simpsons had been residents, for several +generations, of southeastern Pennsylvania. The Grants and the Simpsons +had been redoubtable warriors in the early wars of the republic. Hannah +Simpson was a calm, equable, self-contained young woman, as reticent and +forbearing as her husband was disputatious and impetuous. + +Their first child was named Hiram Ulysses Grant. Before the child was +two years of age, Jesse Grant, who was superintending a tannery in Point +Pleasant, removed to Georgetown, Brown County, Ohio, and set up in +business for himself. Georgetown was a village in the deep woods, and in +and about this village Ulysses Grant grew to be a sturdy, self-reliant +boy. He loved horses, and became a remarkable rider and teamster at a +very early age. He was not notable as a scholar, but it was soon +apparent that he had inherited the self-poise, the reticence, and the +modest demeanor of his mother. He took part in the games and sports of +the boys, but displayed no military traits whatever. At the age of +seventeen he was a fair scholar for his opportunities, and his ambitious +father procured for him an appointment to the Military Academy at West +Point. He reported at the adjutant's desk in June 1839, where he found +his name on the register "Ulysses S. Grant" through a mistake of his +Congressman, Thomas L. Hamer. Meanwhile, to escape ridicule on the +initials of his name, which spelled "H.U.G." he had transposed his name +to Ulysses H. Grant, and at his request the adjutant changed the S to an +H; but the name on record in Washington was Ulysses S., and so he +remained "U. S. Grant" to the government and U. H. Grant to his friends +and relatives. + +His record at West Point was a good one in mathematics and fair in most +of his studies. He graduated at about the middle of his class, which +numbered thirty-nine. He was much beloved and respected as an upright, +honorable, and loyal young fellow. At the time of his graduation he was +president of the only literary society of the academy; W. S. Hancock was +its secretary. + +He remained markedly unmilitary throughout his course, and was +remembered mainly as a good comrade, a youth of sound judgment, and the +finest horseman in the academy. He asked to be assigned to cavalry duty, +but was brevetted second lieutenant of the 4th Infantry, and ordered to +Jefferson Barracks, near St. Louis. Here he remained till the spring of +1844, when his regiment was ordered to a point on the southwestern +frontier, near the present town of Natchitoches, Louisiana. Here he +remained till May 1845, when the Mexican War opened, and for the next +three years he served with his regiment in every battle except Buena +Vista. He was twice promoted for gallant conduct, and demonstrated his +great coolness, resource, and bravery in the hottest fire. He was +regimental quartermaster much of the time, and might honorably have kept +out of battle, but he contrived to be in the forefront with his command. + +In the autumn of 1848 he married Miss Julia Dent of St. Louis, and as +first lieutenant and regimental quartermaster, with a brevet of captain, +he served at Sackett's Harbor and Detroit alternately till June 1852, +when he was ordered to the coast. This was a genuine hardship, for he +was unable to take his wife and child with him; but he concluded to +remain in the army, and went with his command, sailing from New York and +passing by the way of the Isthmus. On the way across the Isthmus the +regiment encountered cholera, and all Grant's coolness, resource, and +bravery were required to get his charge safely across. "He seemed never +to think of himself, and appeared to be a man of iron," his companions +said. + +He was regimental quartermaster at Fort Vancouver, near Portland, +Oregon, for one year. In 1853 he was promoted to a captaincy and ordered +to Fort Humboldt, near Eureka in California. In 1854, becoming +disheartened by the never-ending vista of barrack life, and despairing +of being able to have his wife and children with him, he sent in his +resignation, to take effect July 31st, 1854. He had lost money by +unfortunate business ventures, and so returned forlorn and penniless to +New York. Thence he made his way to St. Louis to his wife and children, +and began the world again as a farmer, without a house or tools or +horses. + +His father-in-law, Mr. Frederick Dent, who lived about ten miles out of +the city, set aside some sixty or eighty acres of land for his use, and +thereon he built with his own hands a log cabin, which he called +"Hardscrabble." For nearly four years he lived the life of a farmer. He +plowed, hoed, cleared the land, hauled wood and props to the mines, and +endured all the hardships and privations of a small farmer. In 1858 his +health gave way, and he moved to St. Louis in the attempt to get into +some less taxing occupation. He tried for the position of county +engineer, and failed. He went into the real estate business with a +friend, and failed in that. He secured a place in the customs office, +but the collector died and he was thrown out of employment. + +In the spring of 1860, despairing of getting a foothold in St. Louis, he +removed to Galena, Illinois, where his father had established a leather +store, a branch of his tannery in Covington, Kentucky. Here he came in +touch again with his two brothers, Simpson and Orvil Grant. He became a +clerk at a salary of six hundred dollars per annum. At this time he was +a quiet man of middle age, and his manner and mode of life attracted +little attention till in 1861, when Sumter was fired upon and Lincoln +called for volunteers. Galena at once held a war meeting to raise a +company. Captain Grant, because of his military experience, was made +president of the meeting, and afterward was offered the captaincy of the +company, which he refused, saying, "I have been a captain in the regular +army. I am fitted to command a regiment." + +He wrote at once a patriotic letter to his father-in-law, wherein he +said, "I foresee the doom of slavery." He accompanied the company to +Springfield, where his military experience was needed. Governor Richard +Yates gave him work in the adjutant's office, then made him drill-master +at Camp Yates; and as his efficiency became apparent he was appointed +governor's aide, with rank of colonel. He mustered in several regiments, +among them the 7th Congressional regiment at Mattoon. He made such an +impression on this regiment that they named their camp in his honor, and +about the middle of June sent a delegation of officers to ask that he be +made colonel. Governor Yates reluctantly appointed him, and at the +request of General John C. Fremont, the commander of the Department of +the West, Grant's regiment (known as the 21st Illinois Volunteers) was +ordered to Missouri. Colonel Grant marched his men overland, being the +first commander of the State to decline railway transportation. His +efficiency soon appeared, and he was given the command of all the troops +in and about Mexico, Missouri. At this point he received a dispatch from +E. B. Washburne, Congressman for his district, that President Lincoln +had made him brigadier-general. He was put in command at Ironton, +Missouri, and was proceeding against Colonel Hardee, when he was +relieved from command by B. M. Prentiss and ordered to Jefferson City, +Missouri. He again brought order out of chaos, and was ready for a +campaign, when he was again relieved, and by suggestion of President +Lincoln placed in command of a district with headquarters at Cairo, +Illinois. + +This was his first adequate command, and with clear and orderly activity +he organized his command of nearly ten thousand men. On the 6th of +September, learning that the Confederates were advancing on Paducah, he +took the city without firing a gun, and issued an address to the people +of Kentucky which led Lincoln to say, "The man who can write like that +is fitted to command in the West." Early in November, in obedience to a +command from Fremont, he fought the battle of Belmont, thus preventing +General Polk from reinforcing Price in Missouri. This was neither a +victory nor a defeat, as the purpose was not to hold Belmont. + +In February 1862, with an army of twenty thousand men and accompanied by +Commander Foote's flotilla, he took Fort Henry and marched on Fort +Donelson. On the 16th of the same month he had invested Donelson and had +beaten the enemy within their works. General Simon Buckner, his old +classmate and comrade, was in command. He wrote to Grant, asking for +commissioners to agree upon terms. Grant replied: "_No terms except an +unconditional and immediate surrender can be accepted. I propose to move +immediately upon your works._" Buckner surrendered, and Grant's sturdy +words flamed over the land, making him "Unconditional Surrender Grant." +The whole nation thrilled with the surprise and joy of this capture, and +the obscure brigadier-general became the hero of the day. He was made +major-general, and given the command of the District of Western +Tennessee. + +On the 6th and 7th of April he fought the terrible battle of Shiloh, and +won it, though with great loss, owing to the failure of part of his +reinforcements to arrive. Immediately after this battle, General H. W. +Halleck, who had relieved General Fremont as commander in the West, took +command in person, and by a clever military device deprived Grant of all +command; and for six weeks the army timidly advanced on Corinth. Corinth +was evacuated by the enemy before Halleck dared to attack, and Grant had +no hand in any important command until late in the year. + +Halleck went to Washington in July, leaving Grant again in command; but +his forces were so depleted that he could do little but defend his lines +and stores. In January 1863 he began to assemble his troops to attack +Vicksburg, but high water kept him inactive till the following April. +His plan, then fully developed, was to run the battery with gunboats and +transports, march his troops across the peninsula before the city, and +flank the enemy from below. This superbly audacious plan involved +cutting loose from his base of supplies and all communications. He was +obliged to whip two armies in detail,--Johnston at Jackson, Mississippi, +and Pemberton in command at Vicksburg. This marvelous campaign was +executed to the letter, and on the third day of July, Pemberton +surrendered the largest body of troops ever captured on this continent +up to that time, and Grant became the "man of destiny" of the army. All +criticism was silenced. The world's markets rose and fell with his daily +doings. Lincoln wrote him a letter of congratulation. The question of +making "the prop-hauler of the Gravois" general-in-chief of all the +armies of the United States was raised, and all the nation turned to him +as the savior of the republic. + +He was made commander of all the armies of the Mississippi, and +proceeded to Chattanooga to rescue Rosecrans and his beleaguered army. +In a series of swift and dramatic battles he captured Lookout Mountain +and Missionary Ridge. Wherever he went, victory seemed to follow. His +calm demeanor never changed. He was bent on "whipping out the +Rebellion." He was seen to be a warrior of a new sort. He was never +malignant, or cruel, or ungenerous to his enemies; but he fought battles +to win them, and the country now clamored for him to lead the armies of +the Potomac against Lee, the great Southern general against whom no +Northern general seemed able to prevail. + +Early in March of 1864, Hon. E. B. Washburne introduced into Congress a +bill reviving the grade of Lieutenant-General. It was passed by both +houses with some discussion, and Lincoln conferred the title and all it +implied upon Grant. He called him to Washington, and placed the whole +conduct of the war in his hands. "I don't want to know your plans," he +said. Grant became absolutely chief in command, and set forth at once to +direct the Army of the Potomac in person, and to encompass Lee as he had +captured the armies of Buckner and Pemberton. His aim was not to whip +Lee, but to destroy his army and end the war. He began an enormous +encircling movement which never for one moment relaxed. The Army of the +Potomac retreated no more. It had a commander who never knew when he was +beaten. + +He fought one day in the Wilderness, sustaining enormous losses; but +when the world expected retreat, he ordered an advance. He fought +another day, and on the third day ordered an advance. Lincoln said, "At +last I have a general." Grant never rested. After every battle he +advanced, inexorably closing around Lee. It took him a year, but in the +end he won. He captured Lee's army, and ended the war on the 9th of +April, 1865. His terms with the captured general of the Southern forces +were so chivalrous and generous that it gained for him the respect and +even admiration of the Southern people. They could not forget that he +was conqueror, but they acknowledged his greatness of heart. He had no +petty revenges. + +Nothing in human history exceeds the contrasts in the life of Ulysses +Grant. When Lee surrendered to him, he controlled a battle line from the +Potomac to the Rio Grande, composed of a million men. His lightest +command had almost inconceivable power; and yet he was the same man who +had hauled wood in St. Louis and sold awls and shoe-pegs in Galena,--he +had been developed by opportunity. Personally he remained simple to the +point of inconspicuousness. His rusty blouse, his worn hat, his dusty +boots, his low and modest voice, gave no indication of his exalted +position and his enormous power. At the grand review of the armies in +Washington in May, he sat with musing eyes while the victorious legions +passed him, so unobtrusive in the throng that his troops could hardly +distinguish his form and face; and when he returned to Galena, his old +home, he carried no visible sign of the power and glory to which he had +won his way step by step, by sheer power of doing things so well that +other and greater duties were intrusted to his keeping. + +He presented a new type of soldier to the world. He was never vengeful, +never angry in battle. When others swore and uttered ferocious cries, +Grant remained master of himself and every faculty, uttering no oaths, +giving his commands in full, clear, simple, dignified phrases. He hated +conflict. He cared nothing for the pomp and circumstance of war; it was +not glorious to him; and when it was all over he said, "I never want to +see a soldier's uniform again." + +He was the chief citizen of the republic at the close of the war, and +when Lincoln was assassinated he was the mainstay of the republic. Every +eye was turned upon him, and his calmness was most salutary upon the +nation. He became inevitably a candidate for President, and was elected +with great enthusiasm in 1868. In 1872 he was re-elected, and during his +two terms his one great purpose was to reconstruct the nation. He did +all that he could to heal the scars of war. He stood between the +malignants of the North and the helpless people of the South, always +patient and sympathetic. His administrations ran in turbulent times, and +corruption was abroad in official circles, but there is no evidence that +he was touched by it. His administration was attacked; he was acquitted. + +In 1878, two years after his second term had ended, he went on a trip +around the world, visiting all the great courts and kings of the leading +nations. He received the most extraordinary honors ever tendered to one +human being by his fellows, but he returned to Galena and to his boyhood +home, the same good neighbor, just as democratic in his intercourse as +ever. He never forgot a face, whether of the man who shod his horses or +of the man who nominated him for President, though he looked upon more +people than any other man in the history of the world. + +In 1880 he mistakenly became a candidate for a third term, and was +defeated. Shortly after this he moved to New York City, and became a +nominal partner in the firm of Grant & Ward. His name was used in the +business; he had little connection with it, for he was growing old and +failing in health. + +In May 1884, through the rascality of Ferdinand Ward, the firm failed, +and General Grant lost every dollar he owned. Just before the crash, in +the attempt to save the firm, he went to a wealthy friend and borrowed a +large sum of money. After the failure the grim old commander turned over +to his creditor every trophy, every present which had been given him by +his foreign friends, even the jeweled favors of kings and queens and the +swords presented to him by his fellow-citizens and by his soldiers; he +reserved nothing. He became so poor that his pew rent became a burden, +and the question of earning a living came to him with added force, for +he was old and lame, and attacked by cancer of the tongue. + +Now came the most heroic year of his life. Suffering almost ceaseless +pain, with the death shadow on him, he sat down to write his +autobiography for the benefit of his wife. He complained not at all, and +allowed nothing to stand in the way of his work. He wrote on steadily, +up to the very day of his death, long after the power of speech was +gone, revising his proofs, correcting his judgments of commanders as new +evidence arose, and in the end producing a book which was a marvel of +simple sincerity and modesty of statement, and of transparent clarity of +style. It took rank at once as one of the great martial biographies of +the world. It redeemed his name and gave his wife a competency. It was a +greater deed than the taking of Vicksburg. + +In this final illness his thoughts dwelt much upon the differences +between the North and the South. From Mt. McGregor, where he was taken +in June 1885 to escape the heat of the city, he sent forth repeated +messages of good-will to the South. In this hour the two mighty purposes +of his life grew clearer in men's minds. He had put down the Rebellion, +and from the moment of Lee's surrender had set himself the task of +reuniting the severed nation. "Let us have peace," he said; and the +saying had all the effect of a benediction. + +He died on July 23rd, 1885, at the age of sixty-three; and at his grave +the North and the South stood side by side in friendship, and the great +captains of opposing armies walked shoulder to shoulder, bearing his +body to its final rest on the bank of the Hudson River. The world knew +his faults, his mistakes, and his weaknesses; but they were all +forgotten in the memory of his great deeds as a warrior, and of his +gentleness, modesty, candor, and purity as a man. Since then it becomes +increasingly more evident that he is to take his place as one of three +or four figures of the first class in our national history. He was a man +of action, and his deeds were of the kind which mark epochs in history. + + [Signature: Hamlin Garland] + + + +EARLY LIFE + +From 'Personal Memoirs of U. S. Grant.' Copyright by Ulysses S. Grant, +and reprinted by permission of the family of General Grant + + +In June 1821 my father, Jesse R. Grant, married Hannah Simpson. I was +born on the 27th of April, 1822, at Point Pleasant, Clermont County, +Ohio. In the fall of 1823 we moved to Georgetown, the county seat of +Brown, the adjoining county east. This place remained my home until at +the age of seventeen, in 1839, I went to West Point. + +The schools at the time of which I write were very indifferent. There +were no free schools, and none in which the scholars were classified. +They were all supported by subscription, and a single teacher--who was +often a man or a woman incapable of teaching much, even if they imparted +all they knew--would have thirty or forty scholars, male and female, +from the infant learning the A B C's up to the young lady of eighteen +and the boy of twenty, studying the highest branches taught--the three +R's, "Reading, 'Riting, and 'Rithmetic." I never saw an algebra or other +mathematical work higher than the arithmetic, in Georgetown, until after +I was appointed to West Point. I then bought a work on algebra, in +Cincinnati; but having no teacher, it was Greek to me. + +My life in Georgetown was uneventful. From the age of five or six until +seventeen, I attended the subscription schools of the village, except +during the winters of 1836-7 and 1838-9. The former period was spent in +Maysville, Kentucky, attending the school of Richardson and Rand; the +latter in Ripley, Ohio, at a private school. I was not studious in +habit, and probably did not make progress enough to compensate for the +outlay for board and tuition. At all events, both winters were spent in +going over the same old arithmetic which I knew every word of before, +and repeating, "A noun is the name of a thing," which I had also heard +my Georgetown teachers repeat until I had come to believe it--but I cast +no reflections upon my old teacher Richardson. He turned out bright +scholars from his school, many of whom have filled conspicuous places in +the service of their States. Two of my contemporaries there--who I +believe never attended any other institution of learning--have held +seats in Congress, and one, if not both, other high offices; these are +Wadsworth and Brewster. + +My father was from my earliest recollection in comfortable +circumstances, considering the times, his place of residence, and the +community in which he lived. Mindful of his own lack of facilities for +acquiring an education, his greatest desire in maturer years was for the +education of his children. Consequently, as stated before, I never +missed a quarter from school, from the time I was old enough to attend +till the time of leaving home. This did not exempt me from labor. In my +early days every one labored more or less, in the region where my youth +was spent, and more in proportion to their private means. It was only +the very poor who were exempt. While my father carried on the +manufacture of leather and worked at the trade himself, he owned and +tilled considerable land. I detested the trade, preferring almost any +other labor; but I was fond of agriculture, and of all employment in +which horses were used. We had, among other lands, fifty acres of forest +within a mile of the village. In the fall of the year, choppers were +employed to cut enough wood to last a twelvemonth. When I was seven or +eight years of age, I began hauling all the wood used in the house and +shops. I could not load it on the wagons, of course, at that time; but I +could drive, and the choppers would load, and some one at the house +unload. When about eleven years old, I was strong enough to hold a plow. +From that age until seventeen I did all the work done with horses, such +as breaking up the land, furrowing, plowing corn and potatoes, bringing +in the crops when harvested, hauling all the wood, besides tending two +or three horses, a cow or two, and sawing wood for stoves, etc., while +still attending school. For this I was compensated by the fact that +there was never any scolding or punishing by my parents; no objection to +rational enjoyments, such as fishing, going to the creek a mile away to +swim in summer, taking a horse and visiting my grandparents in the +adjoining county, fifteen miles off, skating on the ice in winter, or +taking a horse and sleigh when there was snow on the ground. + +While still quite young I had visited Cincinnati, forty-five miles away, +several times, alone; also Maysville, Kentucky,--often,--and once +Louisville. The journey to Louisville was a big one for a boy of that +day. I had also gone once with a two-horse carriage to Chillicothe, +about seventy miles, with a neighbor's family who were removing to +Toledo, Ohio, and returned alone; and had gone once in like manner to +Flat Rock, Kentucky, about seventy miles away. On this latter occasion I +was fifteen years of age. While at Flat Rock, at the house of a Mr. +Payne, whom I was visiting with his brother, a neighbor of ours in +Georgetown, I saw a very fine saddle horse which I rather coveted; and +proposed to Mr. Payne, the owner, to trade him for one of the two I was +driving. Payne hesitated to trade with a boy, but asking his brother +about it, the latter told him that it would be all right; that I was +allowed to do as I pleased with the horses. I was seventy miles from +home, with a carriage to take back, and Mr. Payne said he did not know +that his horse had ever had a collar on. I asked to have him hitched to +a farm wagon, and we would soon see whether he would work. It was soon +evident that the horse had never worn harness before; but he showed no +viciousness, and I expressed a confidence that I could manage him. A +trade was at once struck, I receiving ten dollars difference. + +The next day, Mr. Payne of Georgetown and I started on our return. We +got along very well for a few miles, when we encountered a ferocious dog +that frightened the horses and made them run. The new animal kicked at +every jump he made. I got the horses stopped, however, before any damage +was done, and without running into anything. After giving them a little +rest, to quiet their fears, we started again. That instant the new horse +kicked, and started to run once more. The road we were on struck the +turnpike within half a mile of the point where the second runaway +commenced, and there was an embankment twenty or more feet deep on the +opposite side of the pike. I got the horses stopped on the very brink of +the precipice. My new horse was terribly frightened, and trembled like +an aspen; but he was not half so badly frightened as my companion Mr. +Payne, who deserted me after this last experience, and took passage on +a freight wagon for Maysville. Every time I attempted to start, my new +horse would commence to kick. I was in quite a dilemma for a time. Once +in Maysville, I could borrow a horse from an uncle who lived there; but +I was more than a day's travel from that point. Finally I took out my +bandanna--the style of handkerchief in universal use then--and with this +blindfolded my horse. In this way I reached Maysville safely the next +day, no doubt much to the surprise of my friend. Here I borrowed a horse +from my uncle, and the following day we proceeded on our journey. + +About half my school days in Georgetown were spent at the school of John +D. White, a North-Carolinian, and the father of Chilton White, who +represented the district in Congress for one term during the Rebellion. +Mr. White was always a Democrat in politics, and Chilton followed his +father. He had two older brothers,--all three being schoolmates of mine +at their father's school,--who did not go the same way. The second +brother died before the Rebellion began; he was a Whig, and afterwards a +Republican. His oldest brother was a Republican and brave soldier during +the Rebellion. Chilton is reported as having told of an earlier horse +trade of mine. As he told the story, there was a Mr. Ralston living +within a few miles of the village, who owned a colt which I very much +wanted. My father had offered twenty dollars for it, but Ralston wanted +twenty-five. I was so anxious to have the colt, that after the owner +left I begged to be allowed to take him at the price demanded. My father +yielded, but said twenty dollars was all the horse was worth, and told +me to offer that price; if it was not accepted I was to offer twenty-two +and a half, and if that would not get him, to give the twenty-five. I at +once mounted a horse and went for the colt. When I got to Mr. Ralston's +house, I said to him, "Papa says I may offer you twenty dollars for the +colt, but if you won't take that, I am to offer twenty-two and a half, +and if you won't take that, to give you twenty-five." It would not +require a Connecticut man to guess the price finally agreed upon. This +story is nearly true. I certainly showed very plainly that I had come +for the colt and meant to have him. I could not have been over eight +years old at the time. This transaction caused me great heart-burning. +The story got out among the boys of the village, and it was a long time +before I heard the last of it. Boys enjoy the misery of their +companions,--at least village boys in that day did, and in later life I +have found that all adults are not free from the peculiarity. I kept the +horse until he was four years old, when he went blind, and I sold him +for twenty dollars. When I went to Maysville to school, in 1836, at the +age of fourteen, I recognized my colt as one of the blind horses working +on the tread-wheel of the ferry-boat. + +I have described enough of my early life to give an impression of the +whole. I did not like to work; but I did as much of it, while young, as +grown men can be hired to do in these days, and attended school at the +same time. I had as many privileges as any boy in the village, and +probably more than most of them. I have no recollection of ever having +been punished at home, either by scolding or by the rod. But at school +the case was different. The rod was freely used there, and I was not +exempt from its influence. I can see John D. White, the school-teacher, +now, with his long beech switch always in his hand. It was not always +the same one, either. Switches were brought in bundles from a beech wood +near the schoolhouse, by the boys for whose benefit they were intended. +Often a whole bundle would be used up in a single day. I never had any +hard feelings against my teacher, either while attending the school or +in later years when reflecting upon my experience. Mr. White was a +kind-hearted man, and was much respected by the community in which he +lived. He only followed the universal custom of the period, and that +under which he had received his own education.... + +In the winter of 1838-9 I was attending school at Ripley, only ten miles +distant from Georgetown, but spent the Christmas holidays at home. +During this vacation my father received a letter from the Honorable +Thomas Morris, then United States Senator from Ohio. When he read it he +said to me, "Ulysses, I believe you are going to receive the +appointment." "What appointment?" I inquired.--"To West Point; I have +applied for it." "But I won't go," I said. He said he thought I would, +_and I thought so too, if he did_. I really had no objection to going to +West Point, except that I had a very exalted idea of the acquirements +necessary to get through. I did not believe I possessed them, and could +not bear the idea of failing. + + + +GRANT'S COURTSHIP + +From 'Personal Memoirs of U. S. Grant.' Copyright by Ulysses S. Grant, +and reprinted by permission of the family of General Grant. + + +At West Point I had a classmate,--in the last year of our studies he was +room-mate also,--F. T. Dent, whose family resided some five miles west +of Jefferson Barracks. Two of his unmarried brothers were living at home +at that time, and as I had taken with me from Ohio my horse, saddle, and +bridle, I soon found my way out to White Haven, the name of the Dent +estate. As I found the family congenial, my visits became frequent. +There were at home, besides the young men, two daughters, one a +school-miss of fifteen, the other a girl of eight or nine. There was +still an older daughter of seventeen, who had been spending several +years at a boarding-school in St. Louis, but who, though through school, +had not yet returned home. She was spending the winter in the city with +connections, the family of Colonel John O'Fallon, well known in St. +Louis. In February she returned to her country home. After that I do not +know but my visits became more frequent: they certainly did become more +enjoyable. We would often take walks, or go on horseback to visit the +neighbors, until I became quite well acquainted in that vicinity. +Sometimes one of the brothers would accompany us, sometimes one of the +younger sisters. If the 4th Infantry had remained at Jefferson Barracks +it is possible, even probable, that this life might have continued for +some years without my finding out that there was anything serious the +matter with me; but in the following May a circumstance occurred which +developed my sentiment so palpably that there was no mistaking it. + +The annexation of Texas was at this time the subject of violent +discussion in Congress, in the press, and by individuals. The +administration of President Tyler, then in power, was making the most +strenuous efforts to effect the annexation, which was indeed the great +and absorbing question of the day. During these discussions the greater +part of the single rifle regiment in the army--the 2d Dragoons, which +had been dismounted a year or two before, and designated "Dismounted +Rifles"--was stationed at Fort Jessup, Louisiana, some twenty-five miles +east of the Texas line, to observe the frontier. About the first of May +the 3d Infantry was ordered from Jefferson Barracks to Louisiana, to go +into camp in the neighborhood of Fort Jessup, and there await further +orders. The troops were embarked on steamers, and were on their way down +the Mississippi within a few days after the receipt of this order. About +the time they started I obtained a leave of absence for twenty days to +go to Ohio to visit my parents. I was obliged to go to St. Louis to take +a steamer for Louisville or Cincinnati, or the first steamer going up +the Ohio River to any point. Before I left St. Louis, orders were +received at Jefferson Barracks for the 4th Infantry to follow the 3d. A +messenger was sent after me to stop my leaving; but before he could +reach me I was off, totally ignorant of these events. A day or two after +my arrival at Bethel I received a letter from a classmate and fellow +lieutenant in the 4th, informing me of the circumstances related above, +and advising me not to open any letter postmarked St. Louis or Jefferson +Barracks until the expiration of my leave, and saying that he would pack +up my things and take them along for me. His advice was not necessary, +for no other letter was sent to me. I now discovered that I was +exceedingly anxious to get back to Jefferson Barracks, and I understood +the reason without explanation from any one. My leave of absence +required me to report for duty at Jefferson Barracks at the end of +twenty days. I knew my regiment had gone up the Red River, but I was not +disposed to break the letter of my leave; besides, if I had proceeded to +Louisiana direct, I could not have reached there until after the +expiration of my leave. Accordingly, at the end of the twenty days I +reported for duty to Lieutenant Ewell, commanding at Jefferson Barracks, +handing him at the same time my leave of absence. After noticing the +phraseology of the order--leaves of absence were generally worded, "at +the end of which time he will report for duty with his proper +command"--he said he would give me an order to join my regiment in +Louisiana. I then asked for a few days' leave before starting, which he +readily granted. This was the same Ewell who acquired considerable +reputation as a Confederate general during the Rebellion. He was a man +much esteemed, and deservedly so, in the old army, and proved himself a +gallant and efficient officer in two wars--both in my estimation unholy. + +I immediately procured a horse and started for the country, taking no +baggage with me, of course. There is an insignificant creek, the +Gravois, between Jefferson Barracks and the place to which I was going, +and at that day there was not a bridge over it from its source to its +mouth. There is not water enough in the creek at ordinary stages to run +a coffee-mill, and at low water there is none running whatever. On this +occasion it had been raining heavily, and when the creek was reached I +found the banks full to overflowing, and the current rapid. I looked at +it a moment to consider what to do. One of my superstitions had always +been when I started to go anywhere, or do anything, not to turn back or +stop until the thing intended was accomplished. I have frequently +started to go to places where I had never been and to which I did not +know the way, depending upon making inquiries on the road, and if I got +past the place without knowing it, instead of turning back, I would go +on until a road was found turning in the right direction, take that, and +come in by the other side. So I struck into the stream, and in an +instant the horse was swimming and I being carried down by the current. +I headed the horse towards the other bank and soon reached it, wet +through and without other clothes on that side of the stream. I went on, +however, to my destination and borrowed a dry suit from my (future) +brother-in-law. We were not of the same size, but the clothes answered +every purpose until I got more of my own. + +Before I returned I mustered up courage to make known, in the most +awkward manner imaginable, the discovery I had made on learning that the +4th Infantry had been ordered away from Jefferson Barracks. The young +lady afterwards admitted that she too, although until then she had never +looked upon me other than as a visitor whose company was agreeable to +her, had experienced a depression of spirits she could not account for +when the regiment left. Before separating, it was definitely understood +that at a convenient time we would join our fortunes, and not let the +removal of a regiment trouble us. This was in May 1844. It was the 22d +of August, 1848, before the fulfillment of this agreement. My duties +kept me on the frontier of Louisiana with the Army of Observation during +the pendency of Annexation; and afterwards I was absent through the war +with Mexico provoked by the action of the army, if not by the annexation +itself. During that time there was a constant correspondence between +Miss Dent and myself, but we only met once in the period of four years +and three months. In May 1845 I procured a leave for twenty days, +visited St. Louis, and obtained the consent of the parents for the +union, which had not been asked for before. + + + +A TEXAN EXPERIENCE + +From 'Personal Memoirs of U. S. Grant.' Copyright by Ulysses S. Grant, +and reprinted by permission of the family of General Grant + + +I had never been a sportsman in my life; had scarcely ever gone in +search of game, and rarely seen any when looking for it. On this trip +there was no minute of time while traveling between San Patricio and the +settlements on the San Antonio River, from San Antonio to Austin, and +again from the Colorado River back to San Patricio, when deer or +antelope could not be seen in great numbers. Each officer carried a +shotgun, and every evening after going into camp, some would go out and +soon return with venison and wild turkeys enough for the entire camp. I +however never went out, and had no occasion to fire my gun; except, +being detained over a day at Goliad, Benjamin and I concluded to go down +to the creek--which was fringed with timber, much of it the pecan--and +bring back a few turkeys. We had scarcely reached the edge of the timber +when I heard the flutter of wings overhead, and in an instant I saw two +or three turkeys flying away. These were soon followed by more, then +more and more, until a flock of twenty or thirty had left from just over +my head. All this time I stood watching the turkeys to see where they +flew, with my gun on my shoulder, and never once thought of leveling it +at the birds. When I had time to reflect upon the matter, I came to the +conclusion that as a sportsman I was a failure, and went back to the +house. Benjamin remained out, and got as many turkeys as he wanted to +carry back. + +After the second night at Goliad, Benjamin and I started to make the +remainder of the journey alone. We reached Corpus Christi just in time +to avoid "absence without leave." We met no one, not even an Indian, +during the remainder of our journey, except at San Patricio. A new +settlement had been started there in our absence of three weeks, induced +possibly by the fact that there were houses already built, while the +proximity of troops gave protection against the Indians. On the evening +of the first day out from Goliad we heard the most unearthly howling of +wolves, directly in our front. The prairie grass was tall and we could +not see the beasts, but the sound indicated that they were near. To my +ear it appeared that there must have been enough of them to devour our +party, horses and all, at a single meal. The part of Ohio that I hailed +from was not thickly settled, but wolves had been driven out long before +I left. Benjamin was from Indiana, still less populated, where the wolf +yet roamed over the prairies. He understood the nature of the animal, +and the capacity of a few to make believe there was an unlimited number +of them. He kept on towards the noise, unmoved. I followed in his trail, +lacking moral courage to turn back and join our sick companion. I have +no doubt that if Benjamin had proposed returning to Goliad, I would not +only have "seconded the motion," but have suggested that it was very +hard-hearted in us to leave Augur sick there in the first place; but +Benjamin did not propose turning back. When he did speak it was to ask, +"Grant, how many wolves do you think there are in that pack?" Knowing +where he was from, and suspecting that he thought I would overestimate +the number, I determined to show my acquaintance with the animal by +putting the estimate below what possibly could be correct, and answered, +"Oh, about twenty," very indifferently. He smiled and rode on. In a +minute we were close upon them, and before they saw us. There were just +_two_ of them. Seated upon their haunches, with their mouths close +together, they had made all the noise we had been hearing for the past +ten minutes. I have often thought of this incident since, when I have +heard the noise of a few disappointed politicians who had deserted their +associates. There are always more of them before they are counted. + + + +THE SURRENDER OF GENERAL LEE + +From 'Personal Memoirs of U. S. Grant.' Copyright by Ulysses S. Grant, +and reprinted by permission of the family of General Grant + + +Wars produce many stories of fiction, some of which are told until they +are believed to be true. The War of the Rebellion was no exception to +this rule, and the story of the apple-tree is one of those fictions +based on a slight foundation of fact. As I have said, there was an apple +orchard on the side of the hill occupied by the Confederate forces. +Running diagonally up the hill was a wagon road, which at one point ran +very near one of the trees, so that the wheels of vehicles had on that +side cut off the roots of this tree, leaving a little embankment. +General Babcock, of my staff, reported to me that when he first met +General Lee he was sitting upon this embankment with his feet in the +road below and his back resting against the tree. The story had no other +foundation than that. Like many other stories, it would be very good if +it was only true. + +I had known General Lee in the old army, and had served with him in the +Mexican War: but did not suppose, owing to the difference in our age and +rank, that he would remember me; while I would more naturally remember +him distinctly, because he was the chief of staff of General Scott in +the Mexican War. + +When I had left camp that morning I had not expected so soon the result +that was then taking place, and consequently was in rough garb. I was +without a sword, as I usually was when on horseback on the field, and +wore a soldier's blouse for a coat, with the shoulder-straps of my rank +to indicate to the army who I was. When I went into the house I found +General Lee. We greeted each other, and after shaking hands took our +seats. I had my staff with me, a good portion of whom were in the room +during the whole of the interview. + +What General Lee's feelings were I do not know. As he was a man of much +dignity, with an impassible face, it was impossible to say whether he +felt inwardly glad that the end had finally come, or felt sad over the +result and was too manly to show it. Whatever his feelings, they were +entirely concealed from my observation; but my own feelings, which had +been quite jubilant on the receipt of his letter, were sad and +depressed. I felt like anything rather than rejoicing at the downfall of +a foe who had fought so long and valiantly, and had suffered so much for +a cause,--though that cause was, I believe, one of the worst for which a +people ever fought, and one for which there was the least excuse. I do +not question, however, the sincerity of the great mass of those who were +opposed to us. + +General Lee was dressed in a full uniform which was entirely new, and +was wearing a sword of considerable value, very likely the sword which +had been presented by the State of Virginia; at all events, it was an +entirely different sword from the one that would ordinarily be worn in +the field. In my rough traveling suit, the uniform of a private with the +straps of a lieutenant-general, I must have contrasted very strangely +with a man so handsomely dressed, six feet high and of faultless form. +But this was not a matter that I thought of until afterwards. + +We soon fell into a conversation about old army times. He remarked that +he remembered me very well in the old army; and I told him that as a +matter of course I remembered him perfectly, but from the difference in +our rank and years (there being about sixteen years' difference in our +ages), I had thought it very likely that I had not attracted his +attention sufficiently to be remembered by him after such a long +interval. Our conversation grew so pleasant that I almost forgot the +object of our meeting. After the conversation had run on in this style +for some time, General Lee called my attention to the object of our +meeting, and said that he had asked for this interview for the purpose +of getting from me the terms I proposed to give his army. I said that I +meant merely that his army should lay down their arms, not to take them +up again during the continuance of the war unless duly and properly +exchanged. He said that he had so understood my letter. + +Then we gradually fell off again into conversation about matters foreign +to the subject which had brought us together. This continued for some +little time, when General Lee again interrupted the course of the +conversation by suggesting that the terms I had proposed to give his +army ought to be written out. I called to General Parker, secretary on +my staff, for writing materials, and commenced writing out the following +terms:-- + + APPOMATTOX C. H., VA., April 9th, 1865. + + _Gen. R. E. Lee, Comd'g C. S. A._ + + GEN.:--In accordance with the substance of my letter to you + of the 8th inst., I propose to receive the surrender of the + Army of N. Va. on the following terms, to wit: Rolls of all + the officers and men to be made in duplicate. One copy to be + given to an officer designated by me, the other to be + retained by such officer or officers as you may designate. + The officers to give their individual paroles not to take up + arms against the Government of the United States until + properly exchanged, and each company or regimental commander + sign a like parole for the men of their commands. The arms, + artillery, and public property to be parked and stacked, and + turned over to the officer appointed by me to receive them. + This will not embrace the side-arms of the officers, nor + their private horses or baggage. This done, each officer and + man will be allowed to return to their homes, not to be + disturbed by United States authority so long as they observe + their paroles and the laws in force where they may reside. + + Very respectfully, + + U. S. GRANT, + Lt. Gen. + +When I put my pen to the paper I did not know the first word that I +should make use of in writing the terms. I only knew what was in my +mind, and I wished to express it clearly, so that there could be no +mistaking it. As I wrote on, the thought occurred to me that the +officers had their own private horses and effects, which were important +to them but of no value to us; also that it would be an unnecessary +humiliation to call upon them to deliver their side-arms. + +No conversation, not one word, passed between General Lee and myself, +either about private property, side-arms, or kindred subjects. He +appeared to have no objections to the terms first proposed; or if he had +a point to make against them, he wished to wait until they were in +writing to make it. When he read over that part of the terms about +side-arms, horses, and private property of the officers, he +remarked--with some feeling, I thought--that this would have a happy +effect upon his army. + +Then, after a little further conversation, General Lee remarked to me +again that their army was organized a little diferently from the army of +the United States (still maintaining by implication that we were two +countries); that in their army the cavalrymen and artillerists owned +their own horses: and he asked if he was to understand that the men who +so owned their horses were to be permitted to retain them. I told him +that as the terms were written they would not; that only the officers +were permitted to take their private property. He then, after reading +over the terms a second time, remarked that that was clear. + +I then said to him that I thought this would be about the last battle of +the war--I sincerely hoped so; and I said further, I took it that most +of the men in the ranks were small farmers. The whole country had been +so raided by the two armies that it was doubtful whether they would be +able to put in a crop to carry themselves and their families through the +next winter without the aid of the horses they were then riding. The +United States did not want them; and I would therefore instruct the +officers I left behind to receive the paroles of his troops to let every +man of the Confederate army who claimed to own a horse or mule take the +animal to his home. Lee remarked again that this would have a happy +effect. + +He then sat down and wrote out the following letter:-- + + HEADQUARTERS ARMY OF NORTHERN VIRGINIA, April 9th, 1865. + + GENERAL:--I received your letter of this date containing the + terms of the surrender of the Army of Northern Virginia as + proposed by you. As they are substantially the same as those + expressed in your letter of the 8th inst., they are accepted. + I will proceed to designate the proper officers to carry the + stipulations into effect. + + R. E. LEE, + General. + + _Lieut.-General U. S. Grant._ + +While duplicates of the two letters were being made, the Union generals +present were severally presented to General Lee. + +The much-talked-of surrendering of Lee's sword and my handing it back, +this and much more that has been said about it is the purest romance. +The word sword or side-arms was not mentioned by either of us until I +wrote it in the terms. There was no premeditation, and it did not occur +to me until the moment I wrote it down. If I had happened to omit it, +and General Lee had called my attention to it, I should have put it in +the terms, precisely as I acceded to the provision about the soldiers +retaining their horses. + +General Lee, after all was completed and before taking his leave, +remarked that his army was in a very bad condition for want of food, and +that they were without forage; that his men had been living for some +days on parched corn exclusively, and that he would have to ask me for +rations and forage. I told him "Certainly," and asked for how many men +he wanted rations. His answer was "About twenty-five thousand"; and I +authorized him to send his own commissary and quartermaster to +Appomattox Station, two or three miles away, where he could have, out of +the trains we had stopped, all the provisions wanted. As for forage, we +had ourselves depended almost entirely upon the country for that. + +Generals Gibbon, Griffin, and Merritt were designated by me to carry +into effect the paroling of Lee's troops before they should start for +their homes,--General Lee leaving Generals Longstreet, Gordon, and +Pendleton for them to confer with in order to facilitate this work. Lee +and I then separated as cordially as we had met, he returning to his own +lines, and all went into bivouac for the night at Appomattox. + + + + +HENRY GRATTAN + +(1746-1820) + +[Illustration: HENRY GRATTAN] + + +Henry Grattan, eminent among Irish orators and statesmen, was born in +Dublin, July 3d, 1746. He graduated from Trinity College in 1767, became +a law student of the Middle Temple, London, and was admitted to the bar +in 1772. He soon became drawn into open political life, entering the +Irish Parliament in 1775. + +In Parliament he espoused the popular cause. His memorable displays of +oratory followed fast and plentifully. On April 19th, 1780, he attacked +the right of England to legislate for Ireland. With that address his +reputation was made. He became incessant in his efforts to remove +oppressive legislation. By his eloquence he quickened into life a +national spirit, to culminate in a convention at Dungannon on February +15th, 1782, where resolutions in favor of legislative independence were +stormily adopted. Presently, after a speech of surpassing power from +him, the Declaration of Rights Bill was passed unanimously by both +houses, with an unwilling enactment from England. The idol now of +Ireland, Grattan was voted by its Parliament a grant of L50,000 "as a +testimony of national gratitude for great national services." The next +eighteen years saw him resolute to secure for Ireland liberal laws, +greater commercial freedom, better conditions for the peasantry, the +wiping out of Parliamentary corruption, and especially the absolute +emancipation of the Roman Catholics. After the Union he lived in +retirement, devoting himself to the study of the classics and to the +education of his children until 1805. Then at the request of Fox he +entered the imperial Parliament, making his first speech in favor of +Fox's motion for a committee on the Roman Catholic Petition, an address +described as "one of the most brilliant speeches ever made within the +walls of Parliament." In 1806 he was elected a member for Dublin, which +city he represented until his decease. His last speech was made on May +5th, 1819, in favor of Roman Catholic emancipation. It is to be noted +that he was by profession and conviction a Protestant. He died in 1820. +He was buried in Westminster Abbey, near the graves of Chatham and Fox. + +In spite of great natural drawbacks, Grattan achieved the highest rank +as an orator; and his passionate eloquence has rarely been equaled in +fervor and originality. + + + +ON THE CHARACTER OF CHATHAM + + +The Secretary stood alone; modern degeneracy had not reached him. +Original and unaccommodating, the features of his character had the +hardihood of antiquity. His august mind overawed majesty; and one of his +sovereigns thought royalty so impaired in his presence that he conspired +to remove him, in order to be relieved from his superiority. No State +chicanery, no narrow system of vicious politics, sank him to the vulgar +level of the great; but overbearing, persuasive, and impracticable, his +object was England, his ambition was fame. Without dividing, he +destroyed party; without corrupting, he made a venal age unanimous. + +France sank beneath him. With one hand he smote the house of Bourbon, +and wielded with the other the democracy of England. The sight of his +mind was infinite; and his schemes were to affect, not England and the +present age only, but Europe and posterity. Wonderful were the means by +which these schemes were accomplished; always seasonable, always +adequate, the suggestions of an understanding animated by order and +enlightened by prophecy. + +The ordinary feelings which render life amiable and indolent were +unknown to him. No domestic difficulty, no domestic weakness reached +him; but aloof from the sordid occurrences of life, and unsullied by its +intercourse, he came occasionally into our system to counsel and to +decide. A character so exalted, so strenuous, so various, and so +authoritative astonished a corrupt age; and the treasury trembled at the +name of Pitt, through all her classes of venality. Corruption imagined +indeed that she had found defects in this statesman, and talked much of +the ruin of his victories; but the history of his country and the +calamities of the enemy refuted her. + +Nor were his political abilities his only talents: his eloquence was an +era in the Senate; peculiar and spontaneous, familiarly expressing +gigantic sentiments and instinctive wisdom; not like the torrent of +Demosthenes, or the splendid conflagration of Tully, it resembled +sometimes the thunder and sometimes the music of the spheres. He did +not, like Murray, conduct the understanding through the painful subtlety +of argumentation, nor was he, like Townshend, forever on the rack of +exertion; but rather lightened upon the subject, and reached the point +by flashings of the mind, which like those of his eye were felt but +could not be followed. + +Upon the whole, there was something in this man that could create, +subvert, or reform: an understanding, a spirit, and an eloquence, to +summon mankind to society, or to break the bonds of slavery asunder and +to rule the wilderness of free minds with unbounded authority; something +that could establish or overwhelm empires, and strike a blow in the +world which should resound throughout the universe. + + + +OF THE INJUSTICE OF DISQUALIFICATION OF CATHOLICS + +From the Speech of May 31st, 1811 + + +Whatever belongs to the authority of God, or to the laws of nature, is +necessarily beyond the province and sphere of human institution and +government. The Roman Catholic, when you disqualify him on the ground of +his religion, may with great justice tell you that you are not his God, +that he cannot mold or fashion his faith by your decrees. You may +inflict penalties, and he may suffer them in silence; but if Parliament +assume the prerogative of Heaven, and enact laws to impose upon the +people a different religion, the people will not obey such laws. If you +pass an act to impose a tax or regulate a duty, the people can go to the +roll to learn what are the provisions of the law. But whenever you take +upon yourselves to legislate for God, though there may be truth in your +enactments, you have no authority to enforce them. In such a case, the +people will not go to the roll of Parliament, but to the Bible, the +testament of God's will, to ascertain his law and their duty. When once +man goes out of his sphere, and says he will legislate for God, he in +fact makes himself God. But this I do not charge upon the Parliament, +because in none of the Penal Acts has the Parliament imposed a +religious creed. It is not to be traced in the qualification oath, nor +in the declaration required. The qualifying oath, as to the great number +of offices and seats in Parliament, scrupulously evades religious +distinctions; a Dissenter of any class may take it, a Deist, an atheist, +may likewise take it. The Catholics are alone excepted; and for what +reason? Certainly not because the internal character of the Catholic +religion is inherently vicious; not because it necessarily incapacitates +those who profess it to make laws for their fellow-citizens. If a Deist +be fit to sit in Parliament, it can hardly be urged that a Christian is +unfit. If an atheist be competent to legislate for his country, surely +this privilege cannot be denied to the believer in the divinity of our +Savior. But let me ask you if you have forgotten what was the faith of +your ancestors, or if you are prepared to assert that the men who +procured your liberties are unfit to make your laws? Or do you forget +the tempests by which the Dissenting classes of the community were at a +former period agitated, or in what manner you fixed the rule of peace +over that wild scene of anarchy and commotion? If we attend to the +present condition and habits of these classes, do we not find their +controversies subsisting in full vigor? and can it be said that their +jarring sentiments and clashing interests are productive of any disorder +in the State; or that the Methodist himself, in all his noisy +familiarity with his Maker, is a dangerous or disloyal subject? Upon +what principle can it be argued that the application of a similar policy +would not conciliate the Catholics, and promote the general interests of +the empire? I can trace the continuance of their incapacities to nothing +else than a political combination; a combination that condemned the +Catholic religion, not as a heresy, but as a symptom of a civil +alienation. By this doctrine, the religion is not so much an evil in +itself as a perpetual token of political disaffection. In the spirit of +this liberal interpretation, you once decreed to take away their arms, +and on another occasion ordered all Papists to be removed from London. +In the whole subsequent course of administration, the religion has +continued to be esteemed the infallible symptom of a propensity to +rebel. Known or suspected Papists were once the objects of the severest +jealousy and the bitterest enactments. Some of these statutes have been +repealed, and the jealousy has since somewhat abated; but the same +suspicions, although in a less degree, pervade your councils. Your +imaginations are still infected with apprehensions of the proneness of +the Catholics to make cause with a foreign foe. A treaty has lately been +made with the King of the Two Sicilies. May I ask: Is his religion the +evidence of the warmth of his attachment to your alliance? Does it enter +into your calculation as one of the motives that must incline him to our +friendship, in preference to the friendship of the State professing his +own faith? A similar treaty has been recently entered into with the +Prince Regent of Portugal, professing the Roman Catholic religion; and +one million granted last year and two millions this session, for the +defense of Portugal. Nay, even in the treaty with the Prince Regent of +Portugal, there is an article which stipulates that we shall not make +peace with France unless Portugal shall be restored to the house of +Braganza. And has the Prince of Brazil's religion been considered +evidence of his connection with the enemy? You have not one ally who is +not Catholic; and will you continue to disqualify Irish Catholics, who +fight with you and your allies, because their religion is evidence of +disaffection? + +But if the Catholic religion be this evidence of repugnance, is +Protestantism the proof of affection to the Crown and government of +England? For an answer, let us look at America. In vain did you send +your armies there; in vain did you appeal to the ties of common origin +and common religion. America joined with France, and adopted a +connection with a Catholic government. Turn to Prussia, and behold +whether her religion has had any effect on her political character. Did +the faith of Denmark prevent the attack on Copenhagen? It is admitted on +all sides that the Catholics have demonstrated their allegiance in as +strong a manner as the willing expenditure of blood and treasure can +evince. And remember that the French go not near so far in their defense +of Catholicism, as you in your hatred of it in your own subjects and +your reverence for it in your allies. They have not scrupled to pull +down the ancient fabrics of superstition in the countries subjected to +their arms. Upon a review of these facts, I am justified in assuming +that there is nothing inherent in Catholicism which either proves +disaffection, or disqualifies for public trusts. The immediate inference +is that they have as much right as any dissentient sect to the enjoyment +of civil privileges and a participation of equal rights; that they are +as fit morally and politically to hold offices in the State or seats in +Parliament. Those who dispute the conclusion will find it their duty to +controvert the reasoning on which it is founded. I do not believe the +Church is in any danger; but if it is, I am sure that we are in a wrong +way to secure it. If our laws will battle against Providence, there can +be no doubt of the issue of the conflict between the ordinances of God +and the decrees of man: transient must be the struggle, rapid the event. +Let us suppose an extreme case, but applicable to the present point: +Suppose the Thames were to inundate its banks, and suddenly swelling, +enter this House during our deliberations (an event which I greatly +deprecate, from my private friendship with many members who might happen +to be present, and my sense of the great exertions which many of them +have made for the public interest), and a motion of adjournment being +made, should be opposed, and an address to Providence moved that it +would be graciously pleased to turn back the overflow and direct the +waters into another channel. This, it will be said, would be absurd; but +consider whether you are acting upon a principle of greater intrinsic +wisdom, when after provoking the resentments you arm and martialize the +ambition of men, under the vain assurance that Providence will work a +miracle in the constitution of human nature, and dispose it to pay +injustice with affection, oppression with cordial support. This is in +fact the true character of your expectations; nothing less than that the +Author of the Universe should subvert his laws to ratify your statutes, +and disturb the settled course of nature to confirm the weak, the base +expedients of man. What says the Decalogue? Honor thy father. What says +the penal law? Take away his estate! Again, says the Decalogue, Do not +steal. The law, on the contrary, proclaims, You may rob a Catholic! + + + +ON THE DOWNFALL OF BONAPARTE + +From the Speech of May 25th, 1815 + + +The French government is war; it is a stratocracy, elective, aggressive, +and predatory; her armies live to fight, and fight to live; their +constitution is essentially war, and the object of that war the conquest +of Europe. What such a person as Bonaparte at the head of such a +constitution will do, you may judge by what he has done: and first he +took possession of a greater part of Europe; he made his son King of +Rome; he made his son-in-law Viceroy of Italy; he made his brother King +of Holland; he made his brother-in-law King of Naples; he imprisoned the +King of Spain; he banished the Regent of Portugal, and formed his plan +to take possession of the Crown of England. England had checked his +designs; her trident had stirred up his empire from its foundation. He +complained of her tyranny at sea; but it was her power at sea which +arrested his tyranny on land,--the navy of England saved Europe. Knowing +this, he knew the conquest of England became necessary for the +accomplishment of the conquest of Europe, and the destruction of her +marine necessary for the conquest of England. Accordingly, besides +raising an army of 60,000 men for the invasion of England, he applied +himself to the destruction of her commerce, the foundation of her naval +power. In pursuit of this object and on his plan of a Western empire, he +conceived and in part executed the design of consigning to plunder and +destruction the vast regions of Russia. He quits the genial clime of the +temperate zone; he bursts through the narrow limits of an immense +empire; he abandons comfort and security, and he hurries to the Pole to +hazard them all, and with them the companions of his victories and the +fame and fruits of his crimes and his talents, on speculation of leaving +in Europe, throughout the whole of its extent, no one free or +independent nation. To oppose this huge conception of mischief and +despotism, the great potentate of the north from his gloomy recesses +advances to defend himself against the voracity of ambition, amid the +sterility of his empire. Ambition is omnivorous; it feasts on famine and +sheds tons of blood, that it may starve in ice in order to commit a +robbery on desolation. The power of the north, I say, joins another +prince, whom Bonaparte had deprived of almost the whole of his +authority,--the King of Prussia; and then another potentate, whom +Bonaparte had deprived of the principal part of his dominions,--the +Emperor of Austria. These three powers, physical causes, final justice, +the influence of your victories in Spain and Portugal, and the spirit +given to Europe by the achievements and renown of your great commander +[the Duke of Wellington], together with the precipitation of his own +ambition, combine to accomplish his destruction; Bonaparte is conquered. +He who said, "I will be like the Most High," he who smote the nations +with a continual stroke,--this short-lived son of the morning, +Lucifer,--falls, and the earth is at rest; the phantom of royalty +passes on to nothing, and the three kings to the gates of Paris: there +they stand, the late victims of his ambition, and now the disposers of +his destiny and the masters of his empire. Without provocation he had +gone to their countries with fire and sword; with the greatest +provocation they came to his country with life and liberty: they do an +act unparalleled in the annals of history, such as nor envy, nor time, +nor malice, nor prejudice, nor ingratitude can efface; they give to his +subjects liberty, and to himself life and royalty. This is greater than +conquest! The present race must confess their virtues, and ages to come +must crown their monuments, and place them above heroes and kings in +glory everlasting.... + +Do you wish to confirm this military tyranny in the heart of Europe,--a +tyranny founded on the triumph of the army over the principles of civil +government, tending to universalize throughout Europe the domination of +the sword,--and to reduce to paper and parchment, Magna Charta and all +our civil constitutions? An experiment such as no country ever made and +no good country would ever permit: to relax the moral and religious +influences; to set heaven and earth adrift from one another, and make +God Almighty a tolerated alien in his own creation; an insurrectionary +hope to every bad man in the community, and a frightful lesson to profit +and power, vested in those who have pandered their allegiance from king +to emperor, and now found their pretensions to domination on the merit +of breaking their oaths and deposing their sovereign. Should you do +anything so monstrous as to leave your allies in order to confirm such a +system; should you forget your name, forget your ancestors, and the +inheritance they have left you of morality and renown; should you +astonish Europe by quitting your allies to render immortal such a +composition, would not the nations exclaim: "You have very providently +watched over our interests, and very generously have you contributed to +our service,--and do you falter now? In vain have you stopped in your +own person the flying fortunes of Europe; in vain have you taken the +eagle of Napoleon and snatched _invincibility_ from his standard, if +now, when confederated Europe is ready to march, you take the lead in +the desertion and preach the penitence of Bonaparte and the poverty of +England." + + + + +[Illustration: THOMAS GRAY.] + + + + +THOMAS GRAY + +(1716-1771) + +BY GEORGE PARSONS LATHROP + + +The fame of Thomas Gray is unique among English poets, in that, although +world-wide and luminous, it springs from a single poem, a flawless +masterpiece,--the 'Elegy Written in a Country Church-Yard.' This is the +one production by which he is known to the great mass of readers and +will continue to be known to coming generations; yet in his own time his +other poems were important factors, in establishing the high repute +accorded to him then and still maintained in the esteem of critics. +Nevertheless, living to be nearly fifty-five and giving himself +exclusively to letters, the whole of the work that he left behind him +amounted only to some fourteen hundred lines. + +His value to literature and to posterity, therefore, is to be measured +not by the quantity of his literary contributions or by any special +variety in their scope, but by a certain wholesome and independent +influence which he exerted upon the language of poetry, and by a rare +quality of intense yet seemingly calm and almost repressed genius, which +no one among his commentators has been able to define clearly. The most +comprehensive thing ever written about him--wise, just, witty, yet +sympathetic and penetrating--is the essay by James Russell Lowell in his +final volume of criticism. + + "It is the rarest thing," says Lowell, "to find genius and + dilettantism united in the same person (as for a time they + were in Goethe): for genius implies always a certain + fanaticism of temperament, which, if sometimes it seem + fitful, is yet capable of intense energy on occasion; while + the main characteristic of the dilettante is that sort of + impartiality which springs from inertia of mind, admirable + for observation, incapable of turning it to practical + account. Yet we have, I think, an example of this rare + combination of qualities in Gray; and it accounts both for + the kind of excellence to which he attained, and for the way + in which he disappointed expectation.... He is especially + interesting as an artist in words and phrases, a literary + type far less common among writers of English than it is in + France or Italy, where perhaps the traditions of Latin + culture were never wholly lost.... When so many have written + so much, we shall the more readily pardon the man who has + written too little or just enough." + +He was born in London, December 26th, 1716, the son of a money scrivener +who had dissipated most of his inherited property, but was skilled in +music, and perhaps transmitted to the son that musical element which +gives beauty and strength to his poetry. Gray's mother was a woman of +character, who with his aunt set up an India warehouse and supported +herself; also sending the young man to St. Peter's College, Cambridge, +after his studies at Eton. Leaving college without a degree, he traveled +on the Continent of Europe with Horace Walpole in 1739; then returned to +Cambridge and passed the remainder of his life in the university, as a +bachelor of civil law nominally,--not practicing, but devoting himself +to study and to excursions through rural England. He had a profound and +passionate love for nature, a kind of religious exaltation in the +contemplation of it and in mountain worship, which was at variance with +the prevailing eighteenth-century literary mood and prefigured the +feeling of Wordsworth. His mother having retired to Stoke Poges, +Buckinghamshire, he often made visits there; and the church-yard of his +deathless 'Elegy' is generally believed to be that of the parish church +at Stoke Poges. It was here that he was laid to rest in the same tomb +with his mother and his aunt, after his death, July 24th, 1771. + +The 'Elegy' was finished in 1749. He had begun writing it seven years +before. This has sometimes been alluded to as an instance in point of +Horace's advice, that a poem should be matured for seven years. The +length of time given to the 'Elegy,' however, may be accounted for +partly by Gray's dilatory habits of writing, and partly by the parallel +of Tennyson's long delay in perfecting the utterance of his meditations +on the death of his friend Hallam through 'In Memoriam.' Gray's dearest +friend, Richard West, died in 1742; and it was apparently under the +stress of that sorrow that he began the 'Elegy,' which was completed +only in 1749. Two years later it was published. It won the popular heart +immediately, and passed through four editions in the first twelvemonth. + +Of Gray's other poems, those which have left the deepest impression are +his 'Ode on a Distant Prospect of Eton College,' 'The Progress of +Poesy,' and 'The Bard.' The last two are somewhat Pindaric in style, but +also suggest the influence of the Italian canzone. In the Eton College +ode, his first published piece, occurs the phrase since grown +proverbial, "Where ignorance is bliss, 'tis folly to be wise." It is a +curious fact that while most readers know Gray only as the author of the +'Elegy,' every one is familiar with certain lines coined by him, but +unaware of their source. For instance, in 'The Progress of Poesy,' he +speaks of + + "The unconquerable mind, and freedom's holy flame." + +It is in the same place that he describes Milton as "blasted with excess +of light," and in alluding to Dryden, evolves the image of + + "Thoughts that breathe, and words that burn." + +His, too, in 'The Bard,' is the now well-known line-- + + "Youth on the prow, and Pleasure at the helm." + +Many of his finest expressions are in part derived from classic or other +poets; but he showed undeniable genius in his adaptation, +transformation, or new creation from these suggestive passages. + +Gray was small and delicate in person, handsome and refined, fond of +fashionable dress, and preferred to be known as a "gentleman" rather +than a poet. He was very reticent, somewhat melancholy, and an invalid; +a man also of vast erudition, being learned not only in literature but +in botany, zoology, antiquities, architecture, art, history, and +philosophy as well. He enjoyed the distinction of refusing the post of +poet laureate, after the death of Cibber. On the other hand, he coveted +the place of professor of modern literature and languages at Cambridge +University, to which he was appointed in 1769; but he never performed +any of the duties of his professorship beyond that of drawing the +salary. + +He brought forth nothing in the special kinds of knowledge which he had +acquired in such large measure; and the actual ideas conveyed in his +poetry were not original, but savored rather of the commonplace. Lowell +says of the 'Elegy' that it won its popularity "not through any +originality of thought, but far more through originality of sound." +There must, however, be some deeper reason than this for the grasp which +it has upon the minds and hearts of all classes. Two elements of power +and popularity it certainly possessed in the highest degree. One is the +singular simplicity of its language (a result of consummate art), which +makes it understandable by everybody. The other is the depth and the +sincerity of the emotion with which it imbues thoughts, sentiments, and +reflections that are common to the whole of mankind. The very +unproductiveness of Gray's mind in other directions probably helped this +one product. The quintessence of all his learning, his perceptive +faculty, and his meditations was infused into the life-blood of this +immortal poem. + + [Signature: George Parsons Lathrop] + + + + [Illustration: _STOKE POGES CHURCH AND CHURCHYARD._ + The burial-place of Thomas Gray and the scene of his famous Elegy. + Photogravure from a Photograph.] + + + +ELEGY WRITTEN IN A COUNTRY CHURCH-YARD + + + The curfew tolls the knell of parting day; + The lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lea; + The plowman homeward plods his weary way, + And leaves the world to darkness and to me. + + Now fades the glimmering landscape on the sight, + And all the air a solemn stillness holds, + Save where the beetle wheels his droning flight, + And drowsy tinklings lull the distant folds: + + Save that, from yonder ivy-mantled tower, + The moping owl does to the moon complain + Of such as, wandering near her secret bower, + Molest her ancient, solitary reign. + + Beneath those rugged elms, that yew-tree's shade, + Where heaves the turf in many a moldering heap, + Each in his narrow cell forever laid, + The rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep. + + The breezy call of incense-breathing morn, + The swallow twittering from the straw-built shed, + The cock's shrill clarion, or the echoing horn, + No more shall rouse them from their lowly bed. + + For them no more the blazing hearth shall burn, + Or busy housewife ply her evening care; + No children run to lisp their sire's return, + Or climb his knees the envied kiss to share + + Oft did the harvest to their sickle yield; + Their furrow oft the stubborn glebe has broke; + How jocund did they drive their team afield! + How bowed the woods beneath their sturdy stroke! + + Let not Ambition mock their useful toil, + Their homely joys, and destiny obscure; + Nor Grandeur hear with a disdainful smile + The short and simple annals of the poor. + + The boast of Heraldry, the pomp of Power, + And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave, + Await alike th' inevitable hour: + The paths of glory lead but to the grave. + + Nor you, ye proud, impute to these the fault, + If Memory o'er their tomb no trophies raise, + Where, through the long-drawn aisle and fretted vault, + The pealing anthem swells the note of praise. + + Can storied urn or animated bust + Back to its mansion call the fleeting breath? + Can Honor's voice provoke the silent dust, + Or Flattery soothe the dull, cold ear of Death? + + Perhaps in this neglected spot is laid + Some heart once pregnant with celestial fire; + Hands that the rod of empire might have swayed, + Or waked to ecstasy the living lyre. + + But Knowledge to their eyes her ample page, + Rich with the spoils of time, did ne'er unroll; + Chill Penury repressed their noble rage, + And froze the genial current of the soul. + + Full many a gem of purest ray serene + The dark, unfathomed caves of ocean bear; + Full many a flower is born to blush unseen, + And waste its sweetness on the desert air. + + Some village Hampden, that with dauntless breast + The little tyrant of his fields withstood; + Some mute, inglorious Milton here may rest; + Some Cromwell, guiltless of his country's blood. + + Th' applause of listening senates to command, + The threats of Pain and Ruin to despise, + To scatter plenty o'er a smiling land, + And read their history in a nation's eyes,-- + + Their lot forbade; nor circumscribed alone + Their growing virtues, but their crimes confined; + Forbade to wade through slaughter to a throne, + And shut the gates of mercy on mankind; + + The struggling pangs of conscious Truth to hide, + To quench the blushes of ingenuous Shame, + Or heap the shrine of Luxury and Pride + With incense kindled at the Muse's flame. + + [The thoughtless world to Majesty may bow, + Exalt the brave, and idolize success; + But more to Innocence their safety owe, + Than Power and Genius e'er conspired to bless.] + + [Hark, how the sacred calm that broods around + Bids every fierce tumultuous passion cease, + In still, small accents whispering from the ground + A grateful earnest of eternal peace.] + + Far from the madding crowd's ignoble strife, + Their sober wishes never learned to stray; + Along the cool, sequestered vale of life + They kept the noiseless tenor of their way. + + Yet even these bones from insult to protect, + Some frail memorial, still erected nigh, + With uncouth rhymes and shapeless sculpture decked, + Implores the passing tribute of a sigh. + + Their names, their years, spelt by th' unlettered Muse, + The place of fame and elegy supply; + And many a holy text around she strews, + That teach the rustic moralist to die. + + For who, to dumb forgetfulness a prey, + This pleasing, anxious being e'er resigned, + Left the warm precincts of the cheerful day, + Nor cast one longing, lingering look behind? + + On some fond breast the parting soul relies; + Some pious drops the closing eye requires: + E'en from the tomb the voice of Nature cries; + E'en in our ashes live their wonted fires. + + For thee who, mindful of th' unhonored dead, + Dost in these lines their artless tale relate; + If, chance, by lonely Contemplation led, + Some kindred spirit shall inquire thy fate, + + Haply some hoary-headed swain may say:-- + "Oft have we seen him at the peep of dawn + Brushing with hasty steps the dews away, + To meet the sun upon the upland lawn. + + "There at the foot of yonder nodding beech + That wreathes its old fantastic roots so high, + His listless length at noontide would he stretch, + And pore upon the brook that babbles by. + + "Hard by yon wood, now smiling as in scorn, + Muttering his wayward fancies, he would rove; + Now drooping, woeful-wan, like one forlorn, + Or crazed with care, or crossed in hopeless love. + + "One morn I missed him on the 'customed hill, + Along the heath, and near his favorite tree: + Another came; nor yet beside the rill, + Nor up the lawn, nor at the wood, was he: + + "The next, with dirges due in sad array, + Slow through the church-way path we saw him borne;-- + Approach and read (for thou canst read) the lay + Graved on the stone beneath yon aged thorn." + + ["There scattered oft, the earliest of the year, + By hands unseen, are showers of violets found; + The redbreast loves to build and warble there, + And little footsteps lightly print the ground."] + + THE EPITAPH + + Here rests his head upon the lap of Earth, + A Youth to Fortune and to Fame unknown; + Fair Science frowned not on his humble birth, + And Melancholy marked him for her own. + + Large was his bounty, and his soul sincere; + Heaven did a recompense as largely send: + He gave to Misery all he had,--a tear; + He gained from Heaven ('twas all he wished) a friend. + + No farther seek his merits to disclose, + Or draw his frailties from their dread abode, + (There they alike in trembling hope repose,)-- + The Bosom of his Father and his God. + + [The stanzas included in brackets were omitted by Gray in the + first edition of the 'Elegy,' and as sanctioned by him or by + later editors are (except as to the third one) of infrequent + appearance in the poem.] + + + +ODE ON THE SPRING + + + Lo! Where the rosy-bosomed Hours, + Fair Venus's train, appear, + Disclose the long-expecting flowers, + And wake the purple year! + The Attic warbler pours her throat, + Responsive to the cuckoo's note, + The untaught harmony of spring; + While, whispering pleasure as they fly, + Cool zephyrs through the clear blue sky + Their gathered fragrance fling. + + Where'er the oak's thick branches stretch + A broader, browner shade, + Where'er the rude and moss-grown beech + O'er-canopies the glade, + Beside some water's rushy brink + With me the Muse shall sit, and think + (At ease reclined in rustic state) + How vain the ardor of the crowd, + How low, how little are the proud, + How indigent the great! + + Still is the toiling hand of Care; + The panting herds repose: + Yet hark! how through the peopled air + The busy murmur glows! + The insect-youth are on the wing, + Eager to taste the honeyed spring, + And float amid the liquid noon; + Some lightly o'er the current skim, + Some show their gayly gilded trim + Quick-glancing to the sun. + + To Contemplation's sober eye + Such is the race of Man; + And they that creep, and they that fly, + Shall end where they began. + Alike the Busy and the Gay + But flutter through life's little day, + In Fortune's varying colors drest; + Brushed by the hand of rough Mischance, + Or chilled by Age, their airy dance + They leave, in dust to rest. + + Methinks I hear, in accents low, + The sportive kind reply: + Poor moralist! and what art thou? + A solitary fly! + Thy joys no glittering female meets, + No hive hast thou of hoarded sweets, + No painted plumage to display: + On hasty wings thy youth is flown; + Thy sun is set, thy spring is gone-- + We frolic while 'tis May. + + + +ON A DISTANT PROSPECT OF ETON COLLEGE + + + Ye distant spires, ye antique towers, + That crown the watery glade, + Where grateful Science still adores + Her Henry's holy shade; + And ye, that from the stately brow + Of Windsor's heights th' expanse below + Of grove, of lawn, of mead survey, + Whose turf, whose shade, whose flowers among + Wanders the hoary Thames along + His silver-winding way! + + Ah, happy hills! ah, pleasing shade! + Ah, fields beloved in vain! + Where once my careless childhood strayed, + A stranger yet to pain! + I feel the gales that from ye blow + A momentary bliss bestow, + As waving fresh their gladsome wing, + My weary soul they seem to soothe, + And, redolent of joy and youth, + To breathe a second spring. + + Say, Father Thames,--for thou hast seen + Full many a sprightly race + Disporting on thy margent green, + The paths of pleasure trace,-- + Who foremost now delight to cleave + With pliant arm thy glassy wave? + The captive linnet which enthrall? + What idle progeny succeed + To chase the rolling circle's speed, + Or urge the flying ball? + + While some, on earnest business bent, + Their murmuring labors ply + 'Gainst graver hours that bring constraint + To sweeten liberty: + Some bold adventurers disdain + The limits of their little reign, + And unknown regions dare descry, + Still as they run they look behind, + They hear a voice in every wind, + And snatch a fearful joy. + + Gay hope is theirs, by fancy fed, + Less pleasing when possest; + The tear forgot as soon as shed, + The sunshine of the breast: + Theirs buxom health, of rosy hue, + Wild wit, invention ever new, + And lively cheer, of vigor born; + The thoughtless day, the easy night, + The spirits pure, the slumbers light, + That fly th' approach of morn. + + Alas! regardless of their doom, + The little victims play; + No sense have they of ills to come, + No care beyond to-day: + Yet see, how all around them wait + The ministers of human fate, + And black Misfortune's baleful train! + Ah, show them where in ambush stand, + To seize their prey, the murtherous band! + Ah! tell them they are men! + + These shall the fury Passions tear, + The vultures of the mind, + Disdainful Anger, pallid Fear, + And Shame that skulks behind; + Or pining Love shall waste their youth, + Or Jealousy, with rankling tooth, + That inly gnaws the secret heart; + And Envy wan, and faded Care, + Grim-visaged comfortless Despair, + And Sorrow's piercing dart. + + Ambition this shall tempt to rise, + Then whirl the wretch from high, + To bitter Scorn a sacrifice, + And grinning Infamy. + The stings of Falsehood those shall try, + And hard Unkindness's altered eye, + That mocks the tear it forced to flow; + And keen Remorse with blood defiled, + And moody Madness laughing wild + Amid severest woe. + + Lo! in the vale of years beneath + A grisly troop are seen,-- + The painful family of Death, + More hideous than their queen: + This racks the joints, this fires the veins, + That every laboring sinew strains, + Those in the deeper vitals rage: + Lo! Poverty, to fill the band, + That numbs the soul with icy hand, + And slow-consuming Age. + + To each his sufferings: all are men, + Condemned alike to groan; + The tender for another's pain, + Th' unfeeling for his own. + Yet, ah! why should they know their fate, + Since sorrow never comes too late, + And happiness too swiftly flies? + Thought would destroy their Paradise. + No more: where ignorance is bliss, + 'Tis folly to be wise. + + + +THE BARD + +A PINDARIC ODE + + + "Ruin seize thee, ruthless King! + Confusion on thy banners wait! + Though fanned by Conquest's crimson wing, + They mock the air with idle state. + Helm, nor hauberk's twisted mail, + Nor e'en thy virtues, Tyrant, shall avail + To save thy secret soul from nightly fears,-- + From Cambria's curse, from Cambria's tears!" + Such were the sounds that o'er the crested pride + Of the first Edward scattered wild dismay, + As down the steep of Snowdon's shaggy side + He wound with toilsome march his long array. + Stout Glo'ster stood aghast in speechless trance; + "To arms!" cried Mortimer, and couched his quivering lance. + + On a rock, whose haughty brow + Frowns o'er cold Conway's foaming flood, + Robed in the sable garb of woe, + With haggard eyes the poet stood; + (Loose his beard, and hoary hair + Streamed, like a meteor, to the troubled air;) + And with a master's hand and prophet's fire, + Struck the deep sorrows of his lyre: + "Hark, how each giant oak, and desert cave, + Sighs to the torrent's awful voice beneath! + O'er thee, O King! their hundred arms they wave, + Revenge on thee in hoarser murmurs breathe; + Vocal no more, since Cambria's fatal day, + To high-born Hoel's harp, or soft Llewellyn's lay. + + "Cold is Cadwallo's tongue, + That hushed the stormy main; + Brave Urien sleeps upon his craggy bed; + Mountains, ye mourn in vain + Modred, whose magic song + Made huge Plinlimmon bow his cloud-topt head. + On dreary Arvon's shore they lie, + Smeared with gore, and ghastly pale: + Far, far aloof the affrighted ravens sail; + The famished eagle screams, and passes by. + Dear lost companions of my tuneful art, + Dear as the light that visits these sad eyes, + Dear as the ruddy drops that warm my heart, + Ye died amidst your dying country's cries. + No more I weep: they do not sleep; + On yonder cliffs, a grisly band, + I see them sit; they linger yet, + Avengers of their native land; + With me in dreadful harmony they join, + And weave with bloody hands the tissue of thy line. + + "Weave the warp, and weave the woof, + The winding-sheet of Edward's race; + Give ample room, and verge enough, + The characters of hell to trace; + Mark the year, and mark the night, + When Severn shall re-echo with affright + The shrieks of death, through Berkley's roof that ring, + Shrieks of an agonizing King! + She-wolf of France, with unrelenting fangs, + That tear'st the bowels of thy mangled mate, + From thee be born, who o'er thy country hangs + The scourge of Heaven. What terrors round him wait! + Amazement in his van, with Flight combined, + And Sorrow's faded form, and Solitude behind. + + "Mighty victor, mighty lord! + Low on his funeral couch he lies! + No pitying heart, no eye, afford + A tear to grace his obsequies. + Is the sable warrior fled? + Thy son is gone. He rests among the dead. + The swarm, that in thy noontide beam were born? + Gone to salute the rising morn. + Fair laughs the morn, and soft the zephyr blows, + While proudly riding o'er the azure realm + In gallant trim the gilded vessel goes: + Youth on the prow, and Pleasure at the helm; + Regardless of the sweeping whirlwind's sway, + That, hushed in grim repose, expects his evening prey. + + "Fill high the sparkling bowl! + The rich repast prepare! + Reft of a crown, he yet may share the feast: + Close by the regal chair + Fell Thirst and Famine scowl + A baleful smile upon their baffled guest. + Heard ye the din of battle bray, + Lance to lance, and horse to horse? + Long years of havoc urge their destined course, + And through the kindred squadrons mow their way. + Ye towers of Julius, London's lasting shame, + With many a foul and midnight murder fed, + Revere his consort's faith, his father's fame, + And spare the meek usurper's holy head. + Above, below, the rose of snow, + Twined with her blushing foe, we spread: + The bristled boar in infant-gore + Wallows beneath the thorny shade. + Now, brothers, bending o'er the accursed loom, + Stamp we our vengeance deep, and ratify his doom. + + "Edward, lo! to sudden fate + (Weave we the woof. The thread is spun.) + Half of thy heart we consecrate. + (The web is wove. The work is done.) + Stay, oh stay! nor thus forlorn + Leave me unblessed, unpitied, here to mourn: + In yon bright track that fires the western skies, + They melt, they vanish from my eyes. + But oh! what solemn scenes on Snowdon's height + Descending slow their glittering skirts unroll? + Visions of glory, spare my aching sight! + Ye unborn ages, crowd not on my soul! + No more our long-lost Arthur we bewail. + All hail, ye genuine kings, Britannia's issue, hail! + + "Girt with many a baron bold, + Sublime their starry fronts they rear; + And gorgeous dames and statesmen old + In bearded majesty appear. + In the midst a form divine! + Her eye proclaims her of the Briton line; + Her lion port, her awe-commanding face, + Attempered sweet to virgin grace. + What strings symphonious tremble in the air; + What strains of vocal transport round her play! + Hear from the grave, great Taliessin, hear! + They breathe a soul to animate thy clay. + Bright Rapture calls, and soaring as she sings, + Waves in the eye of heaven her many-colored wings. + + "The verse adorn again + Fierce war, and faithful love, + And truth severe, by fairy fiction drest. + In buskined measures move + Pale Grief, and pleasing Pain, + With Horror, tyrant of the throbbing breast. + A voice, as of the cherub choir, + Gales from blooming Eden bear; + And distant warblings lessen on my ear, + That lost in long futurity expire. + Fond impious man, thinkest thou yon sanguine cloud, + Raised by thy breath, has quenched the orb of day? + To-morrow he repairs the golden flood, + And warms the nations with redoubled ray. + Enough for me; with joy I see + The different doom our fates assign; + Be thine despair, and sceptred care; + To triumph and to die are mine." + He spoke, and headlong from the mountain's height + Deep in the roaring tide he plunged to endless night. + + + + +THE GREEK ANTHOLOGY + +BY TALCOTT WILLIAMS + + +The greater monuments of Greece all men know, the incomparable peaks of +the chain; and the chain lasted seventeen hundred years, nor ever sank +to the dead level about. The steadfast sight of these great Greek +originals warps and dwarfs our conception of Greek life. We behold the +Parthenon; we forget that each village shrine had its sense of +proportion and subtle curve. The Venus of Melos we remember, and the +Victory is poised forever on its cliff; but Tanagra figurines tell as +much, and reveal more, of Greek life. Nor is it otherwise in letters. +The great names all know. For a brief span they stood close together, +and the father who heard AEschylus might have told his experience to his +long-lived son who read Aristotle, while between the two stood all the +greatest genius that makes Greece Greek,--save only Homer. So brief was +the noonday,--and it is at high noon, and high noon only, that men have +agreed to take the sun; but this uplift was gained in the ascent of nigh +two hundred years from the first written Greek literature that still +lives. The descent, to the last of the Greek verse which still remained +poetry, ran through thirteen centuries. Over all this prodigious span of +fifteen hundred years stretches the Greek Anthology, a collection of +4,063 short Greek poems, two to eight lines long for the most part, +collected and re-collected through more than a thousand years. The first +of these poets, Mimnermus, was the contemporary of Jeremiah, and dwelt +in cities that shuddered over tidings of Babylonian invasion. The last, +Cometas, was the contemporary of Edward the Confessor, and dreaded +Seljuk and Turk. + +As the epic impulse faded, and before Greek genius for tragedy rose, the +same race and dialect which had given epic narrative the proud, full +verse that filled like a sail to zephyr and to storm alike, devised the +elegiac couplet. With its opening even flow, its swifter rush in the +second line, and its abrupt pause, it was a medium in which not +narrative but man spoke, whether personal in passion, or impersonal in +the dedication of a statue, or in epitaph. This verse had conventions as +rigorous and restrained as the sonnet, and was briefer. It served as +well for the epitaph of Thermopylae as for the cradle-bier of a child, +dead new-born; and lent itself as gracefully to the gift of a bunch of +roses as it swelled with some sonorous blast of patriotism. It could +sharpen to a gibe, or sink to a wail at untoward fate. Through a period +twice as long as the life of English letters, these short poems set +forth the vision of life, the ways and works of men, the love and death +of mortals. These lines of weight, of moment, always of grace and often +of inspiration, stood on milestones; they graced the base of statues; +they were inscribed on tombs; they stood over doorways; they were +painted on vases. The rustic shrines held them, and on the front of the +great temple they were borne. In this form, friend wrote to friend and +lover to lover. Four or five of the best express the emotion of the +passing Greek traveler at the statue of Memnon on the Nile. The quality +of verse that fills the inn album to-day we all know; but Greek life was +so compact of form and thought that even this unknown traveler's verse, +scrawled with a stylus, still thrills, still rings, as the statue still +sounds its ancient note. + +In this long succession of short poems is delineated the Greek +character, not of Athens but of the whole circle of the Mediterranean. +The sphered life of the race is in its subjects. Each great Greek +victory has its epigrams. In them, statues have an immortal life denied +to marble and to bronze. The critical admiration of the Hellene for his +great men of letters stands recorded here; his early love for the heroes +of his brief-lived freedom, and his sedulous flattery of the Roman lords +of his slavery. Here too is his domestic life, its joy and its sorrow. +In this epigram, the maid dedicates her dolls to Artemis; and in that, +the mother, mother and priestess both, lays down a life overflowing in +good deeds and fruited with honorable offspring. The splendid side of +Greek life is painted elsewhere. Here is its homely simplicity. The +fisher again spreads his nets and the sailor his peaked lateen sail. The +hunter sets his snares and tracks his game in the light snow. The caged +partridge stretches its weary wings in its cage, and the cat has for it +a modern appetite. Men gibe and jest. They see how hollow life is, and +also how truth rings true. Love is here, sacred and revered, in forms +pure and holy; and not less, that foul pool decked with beauty in which +Greek manhood lost its masculine virtue. + +Half a century before Christ, when Greek life overspread the eastern +Mediterranean, and in every market-place Greek was the tongue of trade, +of learning, and of gentle breeding, Greek letters grew conscious of its +own riches. For six centuries and more, or as long as separates us from +Chaucer, men had been writing these brief epigrams. The first had the +brevity of Simonides, the next Alexandrian luxuriance. Many were carved +by those who wrote much; more by those who composed but two or three. In +Syrian Gadara there dwelt a Greek, Meleager, whose poetry is the very +flower of fervent Greek verse. Yet so near did he live to the great +change which was to overturn the gods he loved, and substitute morality +for beauty as the mainspring of life, that some who knew him must also, +a brief span of years later, have known Jesus the Christ. Meleager was +the first who gathered Greek epigrams in an Anthology, prefacing it with +such apt critical utterance as has been the despair of all critics +called since to weigh verse in ruder scales and with a poise less +perfect. He had the wide round of the best of Greek to pick from, and he +chose with unerring taste. To his collection Philippus of Thessalonica, +working when Paul was preaching in Jason's house, added the work of the +Roman period, the fourth development of the epigram. Other collections +between have perished, one in the third or Byzantine period, in which +this verse had a renaissance under Justinian. In the tenth century a +Byzantine scholar, Constantinos Cephalas, rearranged his predecessors' +collections,--Meleager's included,--and brought together the largest +number which has come down to us. The collection is known to-day as the +'Palatine Anthology,' from the library which long owned it. His work was +in the last flare of life in the Lower Empire, when Greek heroism, for +the last time, stemmed the Moslem tide and gave Eastern Europe +breathing-space. When his successor Maximus Planudes, of the century of +Petrarch,--monk, diplomat, theologian, and phrase-maker,--addressed +himself to the last collection made, the shadow of new Italy lay over +Greek life, and the Galilean had recast the minds of men. He excluded +much that Greeks, from Meleager to Cephalas, had freely admitted, and +which modern lovers of the Anthology would be willing to see left out of +all copies but their own. The collection of Planudes long remained alone +known (first edition Florence, 1594). That of Cephalas survived in a +single manuscript of varied fortune, seen in 1606 by Salmasius at +eighteen,--happy boy, and happy manuscript!--lost to learning for a +century and a half in the Vatican, published by Brunck, 1776, and +finally edited by Frederic Jacobs, 1794-1803, five volumes of text and +three of comment, usually bound in eight. The text has been republished +by Tauchnitz, and the whole work has its most convenient and familiar +form for scholars in the edition of both the collections of Planudes and +Cephalas, with epigrams from all other sources prepared by Frederic +Duebner for Didot's 'Bibliotheca Scriptorum Graecorum,' 1864-1872, three +volumes. The Anthology as a whole has no adequate English translation. +About one-third of the poems have a prose translation by George Burges +in the 'Greek Anthology,' 1832, of Bohn's series, with versions in verse +by many hands. + +The first English translation of selections appeared anonymously, 1791. +Others have succeeded: Robert Bland and John Herman Merivale, 1806; +Robert Bland, 1813; Richard Garnett, 1864; Sir Edwin Arnold, 1869; John +Addington Symonds, 1873; J.W. Mackail, 1890; Lilla Cabot Perry, 1891. A +collection of selected translations edited by Graham R. Tomson was +published in 1889. Of these partial versions, the only one which +approaches the incommunicable charm of the original is Mr. Mackail's, an +incomparable translation. His versions are freely used in the selections +which follow. All the metrical versions, except those by Mrs. Perry, are +from Miss Tomson's collection. But no translation equals the sanity, the +brevity, the clarity of the Greek original, qualities which have made +these epigrams consummate models of style to the modern world. In all +the round of literature, the only exact analogue of the Greek epigram is +the Japanese "ode," with its thirty syllables, its single idea, and its +constant use of all classes as an universal medium of familiar poetic +expression. Of like nature, used alike for epigraph, epitaph, and +familiar personal expression, is the rhymed Arabic Makotta, brief poems +written in one form for eighteen hundred years, and still written. + + [Signature: TALCOTT WILLIAMS] + + +ON THE ATHENIAN DEAD AT PLATAEA + +SIMONIDES (556-467 B.C.) + +If to die nobly is the chief part of excellence, to us out of all men +Fortune gave this lot; for hastening to set a crown of freedom on +Greece, we lie possessed of praise that grows not old. + + Translation of J.W. Mackail. + + +ON THE LACEDAEMONIAN DEAD AT PLATAEA + +SIMONIDES + +These men, having set a crown of imperishable glory on their own land, +were folded in the dark clouds of death; yet being dead they have not +died, since from on high their excellence raises them gloriously out of +the house of Hades. + + Translation of J.W. Mackail. + + +ON A SLEEPING SATYR + +PLATO (429-347 B. C.) + +This satyr Diodorus engraved not, but laid to rest; your touch will wake +him; the silver is asleep. + + Translation of J.W. Mackail. + + +A POET'S EPITAPH + +SIMMIAS OF THEBES (405 B.C.) + + Quietly, o'er the tomb of Sophocles, + Quietly, ivy, creep with tendrils green; + And roses, ope your petals everywhere, + While dewy shoots of grape-vine peep between, + Upon the wise and honeyed poet's grave, + Whom Muse and Grace their richest treasures gave. + + Translation of J.W. Mackail. + + +WORSHIP IN SPRING + +THEAETETUS (Fourth Century B. C.) + +Now at her fruitful birth-tide the fair green field flowers out in +blowing roses; now on the boughs of the colonnaded cypresses the cicala, +mad with music, lulls the binder of sheaves; and the careful mother +swallow, having finished houses under the eaves, gives harborage to her +brood in the mud-plastered cells; and the sea slumbers, with +zephyr-wooing calm spread clear over the broad ship-tracks, not breaking +in squalls on the stemposts, not vomiting foam upon the beaches. O +sailor, burn by the altars the glittering round of a mullet, or a +cuttle-fish, or a vocal scarus, to Priapus, ruler of ocean and giver of +anchorage; and so go fearlessly on thy seafaring to the bounds of the +Ionian Sea. + + Translation of J.W. Mackail. + + +SPRING ON THE COAST + +LEONIDAS OF TARENTUM (Third Century B. C.) + +Now is the season of sailing; for already the chattering swallow is +come, and the gracious west wind; the meadows flower, and the sea, +tossed up with waves and rough blasts, has sunk to silence. Weigh thine +anchors and unloose thine hawsers, O mariner, and sail with all thy +canvas set: this I, Priapus of the harbor, bid thee, O man, that thou +mayest set forth to all thy trafficking. + + Translation of J.W. Mackail. + + +A YOUNG HERO'S EPITAPH. + +DIOSCORIDES (Third Century B. C.) + +Home to Petana comes Thrasybulus lifeless on his shield, seven Argive +wounds before. His bleeding boy the father Tynnichos lays on the pyre, +to say:--"Let your wounds weep. Tearless I bury you, my boy--mine and my +country's." + + Translation of Talcott Williams. + + +LOVE + +POSIDIPPUS (Third Century B. C.) + +Jar of Athens, drip the dewy juice of wine, drip, let the feast to which +all bring their share be wetted as with dew; be silenced the swan-sage +Zeno, and the Muse of Cleanthes, and let bitter-sweet Love be our +concern. + + Translation of J.W. Mackail. + + +SORROW'S BARREN GRAVE + +HERACLEITUS (Third Century B. C.) + + Keep off, keep off thy hand, O husbandman, + Nor through this grave's calm dust thy plowshare drive; + These very sods have once been mourned upon, + And on such ground no crop will ever thrive, + Nor corn spring up with green and feathery ears, + From earth that has been watered by such tears. + + Translation of Alma Strettell. + + +TO A COY MAIDEN + +ASCLEPIADES (286 B.C.) + + Believe me love, it is not good + To hoard a mortal maidenhood; + In Hades thou wilt never find, + Maiden, a lover to thy mind; + Love's for the living! presently + Ashes and dust in death are we! + + Translation of Andrew Lang. + + +THE EMPTIED QUIVER + +MNESALCUS (Second Century B.C.) + +This bending bow and emptied quiver, Promachus hangs as a gift to thee, +Phoebus. The swift shafts men's hearts hold, whom they called to death +in the battle's rout. + + Translation of Talcott Williams. + + +THE TALE OF TROY + +ALPHEUS (First Century B.C.) + +Still we hear the wail of Andromache, still we see all Troy toppling +from her foundations, and the battling Ajax, and Hector, bound to the +horses, dragged under the city's crown of towers,--through the Muse of +Maeonides, the poet with whom no one country adorns herself as her own, +but the zones of both worlds. + + Translation of J.W. Mackail. + + +HEAVEN HATH ITS STARS + +MARCUS ARGENTARIUS (First Century B.C.) + + Feasting, I watch with westward-looking eye + The flashing constellations' pageantry, + Solemn and splendid; then anon I wreathe + My hair, and warbling to my harp I breathe + My full heart forth, and know the heavens look down + Pleased, for they also have their Lyre and Crown. + + Translation of Richard Garnett. + + +PAN OF THE SEA-CLIFF + +ARCHIAS (First Century B.C.) + +Me, Pan, the fishermen placed upon this holy cliff,--Pan of the +sea-shore, the watcher here over the fair anchorages of the harbor: and +I take care now of the baskets and again of the trawlers off this shore. +But sail thou by, O stranger, and in requital of this good service of +theirs I will send behind thee a gentle south wind. + + Translation of J.W. Mackail. + + +ANACREON'S GRAVE + +ANTIPATER OF SIDON (First Century B.C.) + +O stranger who passeth by the humble tomb of Anacreon, if thou hast had +aught of good from my books, pour libation on my ashes, pour libation of +the jocund grape, that my bones may rejoice, wetted with wine; so I, who +was ever deep in the wine-steeped revels of Dionysus, I who was bred +among drinking-tunes, shall not even when dead endure without Bacchus +this place to which the generation of mortals must come. + + Translation of J.W. Mackail. + + +REST AT NOON + +MELEAGER (First Century B.C.) + +Voiceful cricket, drunken with drops of dew, thou playest thy rustic +music that murmurs in the solitude, and perched on the leaf edges +shrillest thy lyre-tune with serrated legs and swart skin. But, my dear, +utter a new song for the tree-nymphs' delight, and make thy harp-notes +echo to Pan's, that escaping Love I may seek out sleep at noon, here, +lying under the shady plane. + + Translation of J.W. Mackail. + + +"IN THE SPRING A YOUNG MAN'S FANCY" + +MELEAGER + + Now the white iris blossoms, and the rain-loving narcissus, + And now again the lily, the mountain-roaming, blows. + Now too, the flower of lovers, the crown of all the springtime, + Zenophila the winsome, doth blossom with the rose. + O meadows, wherefore vainly in your radiant garlands laugh ye? + Since fairer is the maiden than any flower that grows! + + Translation of Alma Strettell. + + +MELEAGER'S OWN EPITAPH + +MELEAGER + +Tread softly, O stranger; for here an old man sleeps among the holy +dead, lulled in the slumber due to all; Meleager son of Eucrates, who +united Love of the sweet tears and the Muses with the joyous Graces; +whom god-begotten Tyre brought to manhood, and the sacred land of +Gadara, but lovely Cos nursed in old age among the Meropes. But if thou +art a Syrian, say "Salam," and if a Phoenician, "Naidios," and if a +Greek, "Hail": they are the same. + + Translation of J.W. Mackail. + + +EPILOGUE + +PHILODEMUS (60 B.C.) + +I was in love once; who has not been? I have reveled; who is uninitiated +in revels? Nay, I was mad; at whose prompting but a god's? Let them go; +for now the silver hair is fast replacing the black, a messenger of +wisdom that comes with age. We too played when the time of playing was; +and now that it is no longer, we will turn to worthier thoughts. + + Translation of J.W. Mackail. + + +DOCTOR AND DIVINITY + +NICARCHUS + +Marcus the doctor called yesterday on the marble Zeus; though marble, +and though Zeus, his funeral is to-day. + + Translation of J.W. Mackail. + + +LOVE'S IMMORTALITY + +STRATO (First Century A.D.) + +Who may know if a loved one passes the prime, while ever with him and +never left alone? Who may not satisfy to-day who satisfied yesterday? +and if he satisfy, what should befall him not to satisfy to-morrow? + + Translation of J.W. Mackail. + + +AS THE FLOWERS OF THE FIELD + +STRATO + +If thou boast in thy beauty, know that the rose too blooms, but quickly +being withered, is cast on the dunghill; for blossom and beauty have the +same time allotted to them, and both together envious time withers away. + + Translation of J.W. Mackail. + + +SUMMER SAILING + +ANTIPHILUS (First Century A.D.) + +Mine be a mattress on the poop, and the awnings over it, sounding with +the blows of the spray, and the fire forcing its way out of the +hearthstones, and a pot upon them with empty turmoil of bubbles; and let +me see the boy dressing the meat, and my table be a ship's plank covered +with a cloth; and a game of pitch-and-toss, and the boatswain's whistle: +the other day I had such fortune, for I love common life. + + Translation of J.W. Mackail. + + +THE GREAT MYSTERIES + +CRINAGORAS (First Century A.D.) + +Though thy life be fixed in one seat, and thou sailest not the sea nor +treadest the roads on dry land, yet by all means go to Attica, that thou +mayest see those great nights of the worship of Demeter; whereby thou +shalt possess thy soul without care among the living, and lighter when +thou must go to the place that awaiteth all. + + Translation of J.W. Mackail. + + +TO PRIAPUS OF THE SHORE + +MAECIUS (Roman period) + +Priapus of the sea-shore, the trawlers lay before thee these gifts by +the grace of thine aid from the promontory, having imprisoned a tunny +shoal in their nets of spun hemp in the green sea entrances: a beechen +cup, and a rude stool of heath, and a glass cup holding wine, that thou +mayest rest thy foot, weary and cramped with dancing, while thou chasest +away the dry thirst. + + Translation of J.W. Mackail. + + +THE COMMON LOT + +AMMIANUS (Second Century A.D.) + +Though thou pass beyond thy landmarks even to the pillars of Heracles, +the share of earth that is equal to all men awaits thee, and thou shalt +lie even as Irus, having nothing more than thine obelus moldering into a +land that at last is not thine. + + Translation of J.W. Mackail. + + +"TO-MORROW, AND TO-MORROW" + +MACEDONIUS (Third Century A.D.) + +"To-morrow I will look on thee,"--but that never comes for us, while the +accustomed putting-off ever grows and grows. This is all thy grace to my +longing; and to others thou bearest other gifts, despising my faithful +service. "I will see thee at evening." And what is the evening of a +woman's life?--old age, full of a million wrinkles. + + Translation of J.W. Mackail. + + +THE PALACE GARDEN + +ARABIUS (527-567 A.D.) + +I am filled with waters, and gardens, and groves, and vineyards, and the +joyousness of the bordering sea; and fisherman and farmer from different +sides stretch forth to me the pleasant gifts of sea and land: and them +who abide in me, either a bird singing or the sweet cry of the ferrymen +lulls to rest. + + Translation of J.W. Mackail. + + +THE YOUNG WIFE + +JULIANUS AEGYPTIUS (532 A.D.) + +In season the bride-chamber held thee, out of season the grave took +thee, O Anastasia, flower of the blithe Graces; for thee a father, for +thee a husband pours bitter tears; for thee haply even the ferryman of +the dead weeps; for not a whole year didst thou accomplish beside thine +husband, but at sixteen years old, alas! the tomb holds thee. + + Translation of J.W. Mackail. + + +A NAMELESS GRAVE + +PAULUS SILENTIARIUS + + My name, my country, what are they to thee? + What, whether proud or bare my pedigree? + Perhaps I far surpassed all other men; + Perhaps I fell below them all. What then? + Suffice it, stranger, that thou seest a tomb. + Thou knowest its use. It hides--no matter whom. + + Translation of William Cowper. + + +RESIGNATION + +JOANNES BARBUCALLUS (Sixth Century A.D.) + +Gazing upon my husband as my last thread was spun, I praised the gods +of death, and I praised the gods of marriage,--those, that I left my +husband alive, and these, that he was even such an one; but may he +remain, a father for our children. + + Translation of J.W. Mackail. + + +THE HOUSE OF THE RIGHTEOUS + +MACEDONIUS (Sixth Century A.D.) + +Righteousness has raised this house from the first foundation even to +the lofty roof; for Macedonius fashioned not his wealth by heaping up +from the possessions of others with plundering sword, nor has any poor +man here wept over his vain and profitless toil, being robbed of his +most just hire; and as rest from labor is kept inviolate by the just +man, so let the works of pious mortals endure. + + Translation of J.W. Mackail. + + +LOVE'S FERRIAGE + +AGATHIAS (527-565 A.D.) + + Since she was watched and could not kiss me closely, + Divine Rhodanthe cast her maiden zone + From off her waist, and holding it thus loosely + By the one end, she put a kiss thereon; + Then I--Love's stream as through a channel taking-- + My lips upon the other end did press + And drew the kisses in, while ceaseless making, + Thus from afar, reply to her caress. + So the sweet girdle did beguile our pain, + Being a ferry for our kisses twain. + + Translation of Alma Strettell. + + +[The following are undetermined in date.] + + +ON A FOWLER + +ISIDORUS + + With reeds and bird-lime from the desert air + Eumelus gathered free though scanty fare. + No lordly patron's hand he deign'd to kiss, + Nor luxury knew, save liberty, nor bliss. + Thrice thirty years he lived, and to his heirs + His reeds bequeathed, his bird-lime, and his snares. + + Translation of William Cowper. + + +YOUTH AND RICHES + +ANONYMOUS + +I was young, but poor; now in old age I am rich: alas, alone of all men +pitiable in both, who then could enjoy when I had nothing, and now have +when I cannot enjoy. + + Translation of J.W. Mackail. + + +THE SINGING REED + +ANONYMOUS + +I the reed was a useless plant; for out of me grow not figs, nor apple, +nor grape cluster: but man consecrated me a daughter of Helicon, +piercing my delicate lips and making me the channel of a narrow stream; +and thenceforth whenever I sip black drink, like one inspired I speak +all words with this voiceless mouth. + + Translation of J.W. Mackail. + + +FIRST LOVE AGAIN REMEMBERED + +ANONYMOUS + + While yet the grapes were green thou didst refuse me; + When they were ripe, didst proudly pass me by: + But do not grudge me still a single cluster, + Now that the grapes are withering and dry. + + Translation of Alma Strettell. + + +SLAVE AND PHILOSOPHER + +ANONYMOUS + + I Epictetus was a slave while here, + Deformed in body, and like Irus poor, + Yet to the gods immortal I was dear. + + Translation of Lilla Cabot Perry, by permission of the + American Publishers' Corporation. + + +GOOD-BY TO CHILDHOOD + +ANONYMOUS + +Her tambourines and pretty ball, and the net that confined her hair, and +her dolls and dolls' dresses, Timareta dedicates before her marriage to +Artemis of Limnae,--a maiden to a maiden, as is fit; do thou, daughter of +Leto, laying thine hand over the girl Timareta, preserve her purely in +her purity. + + Translation of J.W. Mackail. + + +WISHING + +ANONYMOUS + + It's oh! to be a wild wind, when my lady's in the sun: + She'd just unbind her neckerchief, and take me breathing in. + + It's oh! to be a red rose, just a faintly blushing one, + So she'd pull me with her hand, and to her snowy breast I'd win. + + Translation of William M. Hardinge. + + +HOPE AND EXPERIENCE + +ANONYMOUS + +Whoso has married once and seeks a second wedding, is a shipwrecked man +who sails twice through a difficult gulf. + + Translation of J.W. Mackail. + + +THE SERVICE OF GOD + +ANONYMOUS + +Me, Chelidon, priestess of Zeus, who knew well in old age how to make +offering on the altars of the immortals, happy in my children, free from +grief, the tomb holds; for with no shadow in their eyes the gods saw my +piety. + + Translation of J.W. Mackail. + + +THE PURE IN HEART + +ANONYMOUS + +He who enters the incense-filled temple must be holy; and holiness is to +have a pure mind. + + Translation of J.W. Mackail. + + +THE WATER OF PURITY + +ANONYMOUS + +Hallowed in soul, O stranger, come even into the precinct of a pure god, +touching thyself with the virgin water: for the good a few drops are +set; but a wicked man the whole ocean cannot wash in its waters. + + Translation of J.W. Mackail. + + +ROSE AND THORN + +ANONYMOUS + +The rose is at her prime a little while; which once past, thou wilt find +when thou seekest, no rose, but a thorn. + + Translation of J.W. Mackail. + + +A LIFE'S WANDERING + +ANONYMOUS + +Know ye the flowery fields of the Cappadocian nation? Thence I was born +of good parents: since I left them I have wandered to the sunset and the +dawn; my name was Glaphyrus, and like my mind. I lived out my sixtieth +year in perfect freedom; I know both the favor of fortune and the +bitterness of life. + + Translation of J.W. Mackail. + + + + +TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES + + +1. Passages in italics are surrounded by _underscores_. + +2. Images have been moved from the middle of a paragraph to the closest +paragraph break. Also the footnotes have been moved to the end of the +paragraph/poem in which they are referred. + +3. Some selections for Richard Watson Gilder are different from those +mentioned in the Table of Contents. + +4. The frontispiece "The Alexander Romance" and the photogravure "The +Bride's Toilet" mentioned in the "Full-Page Illustrations" list are +missing. + +5. The words Coeli, Phoenician, Phoenicians, Phoebus, coenaeque, Soeur +and POENITENTIUM use "oe" ligature in the original. + +6. The original text includes Greek characters. For this etext version +these letters have been replaced with transliterations. + +7. Other than the corrections listed above, printer's inconsistencies +in spelling, punctuation, hyphenation, and ligature usage have been +retained. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Library of the World's Best +Literature, Ancient and Modern, Vol. 16, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WORLD'S BEST LITERATURE, VOL. 16 *** + +***** This file should be named 33624.txt or 33624.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/3/6/2/33624/ + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://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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