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diff --git a/39190-h/39190-h.htm b/39190-h/39190-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..04fbec3 --- /dev/null +++ b/39190-h/39190-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,21436 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<!-- $Id: header.txt 236 2009-12-07 18:57:00Z vlsimpson $ --> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of Harper's New Monthly Magazine, Vol. 1, June 1850, by Various. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> + +body {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} +h1,h2,h3,h4 {text-align: center; clear: both;} +p {margin-top: .75em; text-align: justify; margin-bottom: .75em;} + +hr {width: 33%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; clear: both;} +table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} +.col1 {width: 133px} +.col2 {width: 88px} + +.pagenum {position: absolute; left: 92%; font-size: smaller; text-align: right;} + +.center {text-align: center;} +.right {text-align: right;} +.smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} +.caption {font-weight: bold;} + +/* Images */ +.figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} +.figleft {float: left; clear: left; margin-left: 0; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: 1em; margin-right: 1em; padding: 0; text-align: center;} +.figright {float: right; clear: right; margin-left: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: 1em; margin-right: 0; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + +/* Footnotes */ +.footnotes {border: dashed 1px;} +.footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} +.footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 84%; text-align: right;} +.fnanchor {vertical-align: super; font-size: .8em; text-decoration: none;} + +.tnotes {border: dashed 1px;} +.tnote {margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + +/* Poetry */ +.poem {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; text-align: left;} +.poem br {display: none;} +.poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} +.poem span.i0 {display: block; margin-left: 0em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} +.poem span.i1 {display: block; margin-left: 1em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} +.poem span.i2 {display: block; margin-left: 2em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} +.poem span.i8 {display: block; margin-left: 8em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} +.poem span.i12 {display: block; margin-left: 12em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} +.poem span.i16 {display: block; margin-left: 16em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Harper's New Monthly Magazine, Vol. 1. No +1, June 1850, 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/license + + +Title: Harper's New Monthly Magazine, Vol. 1. No 1, June 1850 + +Author: Various + +Release Date: March 19, 2012 [EBook #39190] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HARPER'S NEW MONTHLY *** + + + + +Produced by Judith Wirawan, David Kline, and The Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net. + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<h1>HARPER'S</h1> + +<h1>NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE.</h1> + +<h3>VOLUME I.</h3> + +<h2>JUNE TO NOVEMBER, 1850.</h2> + +<hr /> + +<h4>NEW YORK:<br /> + +HARPER & BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS,<br /> + +329 & 331 PEARL STREET,<br /> + +FRANKLIN SQUARE.<br /> + +MDCCCL</h4> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>ADVERTISEMENT.</h2> + + +<p>The Publishers take great pleasure in presenting herewith the first volume of the +<span class="smcap">New Monthly Magazine</span>. It was projected and commenced in the belief, that it +might be made the means of bringing within the reach of the great mass of the American +people, an immense amount of useful and entertaining reading matter, to which, +on account of the great number and expense of the books and periodicals in which it +originally appears, they have hitherto had no access. The popularity of the work has +outstripped their most sanguine expectations. Although but six months have elapsed +since it was first announced, it has already attained a regular monthly issue of more +than <span class="smcap">Fifty Thousand Copies</span>, and the rate of its increase is still unchecked. Under +these circumstances, the Publishers would consider themselves failing in duty, as well +as in gratitude, to the public, if they omitted any exertion within their power to increase +its substantial value and its attractiveness. It will be their aim to present, in +a style of typography unsurpassed by any similar publication in the world, every thing +of general interest and usefulness which the current literature of the times may contain. +They will seek, in every article, to combine entertainment with instruction, +and to enforce, through channels which attract rather than repel attention and favor, +the best and most important lessons of morality and of practical life. They will spare +neither labor nor expense in any department of the work; freely lavishing both upon +the editorial aid, the pictorial embellishments, the typography, and the general literary +resources by which they hope to give the Magazine a popular circulation, unequaled +by that of any similar periodical ever published in the world. And they are satisfied +that they may appeal with confidence to the present volume, for evidence of the earnestness +and fidelity with which they will enter upon the fulfillment of these promises +for the future.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CONTENTS OF VOLUME I.</h2> + + + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" width="90%" summary="CONTENTS OF VOLUME I."> +<tr><td align="left">A Bachelor's Reverie. By <span class="smcap">Ik. Marvel</span></td><td align="right">620</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">A Child's Dream of a Star</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_73">73</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">A Chip from a Sailor's Log</td><td align="right">478</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Adventure in a Turkish Harem</td><td align="right">321</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Adventure with a Snake</td><td align="right">415</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Aerial voyage of Barral and Bixio</td><td align="right">499</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">A few words on Corals</td><td align="right">251</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">A Five Days' Tour in the Odenwald. By <span class="smcap">William Howitt</span></td><td align="right">448</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">A Giraffe Chase</td><td align="right">329</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Alchemy and Gunpowder</td><td align="right">195</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">American Literature</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_37">37</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">American Vanity</td><td align="right">274</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">A Midnight Drive</td><td align="right">820</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Amusements of the Court of Louis XV</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_97">97</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Andrew Carson's Money: A Story of Gold</td><td align="right">503</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Anecdote of a Singer</td><td align="right">779</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Anecdotes of Dr. Chalmers</td><td align="right">696</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Anecdote of Lord Clive</td><td align="right">554</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">A Night in the Bell Inn. A Ghost Story.</td><td align="right">252</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">A Paris Newspaper</td><td align="right">181</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">A Pilgrimage to the Cradle of Liberty</td><td align="right">721</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Archibald Alison (with Portrait)</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_134">134</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">A Shilling's Worth of Science</td><td align="right">597</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Assyrian Sects</td><td align="right">454</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">A Tale of the good Old Times</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_52a">52</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Atlantic Waves</td><td align="right">786</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">A True Ghost Story</td><td align="right">801</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">A Tuscan Vintage</td><td align="right">600</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">A Word at the Start</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_1">1</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Bathing—Its Utility. By Dr. <span class="smcap">Moore</span></td><td align="right">215</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Battle with Life (Poetry)</td><td align="right">731</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Benjamin West. By <span class="smcap">Leigh Hunt</span></td><td align="right">194</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Biographical Sketch of Zachary Taylor</td><td align="right">298</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Borax Lagoons of Tuscany</td><td align="right">397</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Burke and the Painter Barry</td><td align="right">807</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Charlotte Corday</td><td align="right">262</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Chemical Contradictions</td><td align="right">736</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Christ-hospital Worthies. By <span class="smcap">Leigh Hunt</span></td><td align="right">200</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Conflict with an Elephant</td><td align="right">352</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Death of Cromwell (Poetry)</td><td align="right">257</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Descent into the Crater of a Volcano</td><td align="right">838</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Diplomacy—Lord Chesterfield</td><td align="right">246</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Doing (Poetry)</td><td align="right">268</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Dr. Johnson: his Religious Life and Death</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_71a">71</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Early History of the Use of Coal</td><td align="right">656</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Early Rising</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_52">52</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Earth's Harvests (Poetry)</td><td align="right">297</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Ebenezer Elliott</td><td align="right">349</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Education in America</td><td align="right">209</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Elephant Shooting in South Africa</td><td align="right">393</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Encounter with a Lioness</td><td align="right">303</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Eruptions of Mount Etna</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_35a">35</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Fashions for Early Summer</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_142">142</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Fashions for July</td><td align="right">287</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Fashions for August</td><td align="right">431</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Fashions for early Autumn</td><td align="right">575</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Fashions for Autumn</td><td align="right">719</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Fashions for November</td><td align="right">863</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Fate Days, and other Superstitions</td><td align="right">729</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Father and Son</td><td align="right">243</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Fearful Tragedy—A Man-eating Lion</td><td align="right">471</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Fifty Years ago. By <span class="smcap">Leigh Hunt</span></td><td align="right">180</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Fortunes of the Gardener's Daughter</td><td align="right">832</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Francis Jeffrey</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_66">66</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Galileo and his Daughter</td><td align="right">347</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Genius</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_65a">65</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Ghost Stories: Mademoiselle Clairon</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_83">83</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Glimpses of the East. By <span class="smcap">Albert Smith</span></td><td align="right">198</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Globes, and how they are Made</td><td align="right">165</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Greenwich Weather-wisdom</td><td align="right">265</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Habits of the African Lion</td><td align="right">480</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Have great Poets become impossible?</td><td align="right">340</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">History of Bank Note Forgeries</td><td align="right">745</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">How to kill Clever Children</td><td align="right">789</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">How to make Home unhealthy. By <span class="smcap">Harriet Martineau</span></td><td align="right">601</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">How We Went Whaling</td><td align="right">844</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Hydrophobia</td><td align="right">846</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Ignorance of the English</td><td align="right">205</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Illustrations of Cheapness. Lucifer Matches</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_75">75</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Industry of the Blind</td><td align="right">848</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Jenny Lind. By <span class="smcap">Fredrika Bremer</span></td><td align="right">657</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Jewish Veneration</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_119">119</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Lack of Poetry in America</td><td align="right">403</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Lady Alice Daventry; or, the Night of Crime</td><td align="right">642</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Ledru Rollin</td><td align="right">476</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Leigh Hunt Drowning</td><td align="right">202</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Lettice Arnold. By Mrs. <span class="smcap">Marsh</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_13">13</a>, 168, 353</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Lines. By <span class="smcap">Robert Southey</span></td><td align="right">206</td></tr> + +<tr><td align="left">Literary and Scientific Miscellany</td><td align="right">556</td></tr> + +<tr><td align="left" colspan="2"><blockquote><p>Lord Jeffrey's Account of the Origin of +the Edinburgh Review—Character of Sir +Robert Peel—The Ownership of Land—A +Self-Taught Artist—Conversation of Literary +Men—Rewards of Literature—Schamyl +the Prophet of the Caucasus—The Colossal +Statue—Wordsworth's Prose-Writings—Anecdotes +of Beranger—The Paris Academy +of Inscriptions.</p></blockquote></td></tr> + +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Literary Notices.</span></td></tr> + +<tr><td align="left" colspan="2"><blockquote><p>Bryant's Letters of a Traveler; Bayard +Taylor's Eldorado, <a href="#Page_140">140</a>. Standish the Puritan; +Talbot and Vernon, <a href="#Page_141">141</a>. Smyth's +Unity of the Human Races, 284. Talvi's +Literature of the Slavic Nations; Greeley's +Hints toward Reforms, 288. Antonina +Martinet's Solution of Great Problems; +Lossing's Field Book, 286, 427, 837. Lamartine's +Past Present and Future of the +French Republic; Lardner's Railway +Economy; The Lone Dove; Mezzofanti's +Method applied to the Study of the French +Language; The Ojibway Conquest; Buffum's +Six Months in the Gold Mines; The +World as it is and as it appears; Drake's +Diseases of the Interior Valley of North +America, 286. Campbell's Life and Letters, +425. Life and Correspondence of Andrew +Combe, 426. Dr. Johnson's Religious +Life and Death; Sydney Smith's Sketches +of Moral Philosophy; The Plough, the +Loom, and the Anvil, 427. Mrs. Child's +Rebels; Davies's Logic and Utility of +Mathematics; The Gallery of Illustrious +Americans; The Phantom World; Christopher +under Canvas; Byrne's Dictionary +of Mechanics; Griffith's Marine and Naval +Architecture, 428. Duggin's Specimens of +Bridges, etc. on the U.S. Railroads; M'Clintock's +Second Book in Greek; Baird's Impressions +of the West Indies, and North +America; Fleetwood's Life of Christ; The +Shoulder Knot; Supplement to Forester's +Fish and Fishing; The Morning Watch; +Debates in the Convention of California; +The Mothers of the Wise and Good, 429. +Carlyle's Latter-Day Pamphlets, 430, 571. +The Illustrated Domestic Bible; Earnestness; +Amy Harrington; The Vale of +Cedars; Chronicles and Characters of the +Stock Exchange; Wah-to-yah, and the +Taos Trail; Poems by H. Ladd Spencer; +Talvi's Heloise; The Initials; The Lorgnette, +430. Tennyson's In Memoriam, 570. +Abbott's History of Darius; Fowler's English +Language in its Elements and forms; +Julia Howard; Cumming's Five Years of a +Hunter's Life; Moore's Health, Disease, +and Remedy; Wright's Perforations of the +Latter-day Pamphlets; Lanman's Haw-Ho-Noo, +571. Leigh Hunt's Autobiography; +U.S. Railroad Guide and Steamboat Journal; +Ware's Hints to Young Men; The Iris; +Irving's Conquest of Granada, 572. Life +and Times of Gen. John Lamb, Progress of +the Northwest; Everett's Bunker Hill +Oration; Walker's Phi Beta Kappa Oration; +Bayard Taylor's American Legend; +Ungewitter's Europe, Past and Present; +Downing's Architecture of Country Houses, +573. Jarvis's Don Quixote; Halliwell's +Shakspeare; Meyer's Universum; The +Night Side of Nature; Giles's Thoughts on +Life; Hill's Lectures on Surgery; The +National Temperance Offering, 574. Rural +Hours; Robinson's Greek and English +Lexicon; The Berber, 713. Works of +Joseph Bellamy; Adelaide Lindsay; Mayhew's +Popular Education; Poems by Elizabeth +Barrett Browning; After Dinner +Table Talk; Cooper's Deer Slayer; Stockton's +Sermon on the Death of Zachary +Taylor; Raymond's Relations of the American +Scholar to his Country and his Times, +714. Loomis's Recent Progress of Astronomy; +Loomis's Mathematical Course; Autobiography +of Goethe; Braithwaite's Retrospect; +Mrs. Ellett's Domestic History of +the Revolution; Lives of Eminent Literary +and Scientific Men; Johnson's Cicero; +Lady Willoughby's Diary; The Young +Woman's Book of Health, 715. Whittier's +Songs of Labor; Nicholson's Poems of the +Heart; The Mariner's Vision; Collins's +edition of Æsop's Fables; Seba Smith's +New Elements of Geometry, 716. Buckingham's +Specimens of Newspaper Literature; +Edward Everett's Orations and Speeches, +717. Echoes of the Universe; Memoir of +Anne Boleyn; The Lily and the Totem; +Reminiscences of Congress; Mental Hygiene, +718. Williams's Religious Progress; +Poetry of Science; Footprints of the Creator; +Pre-Adamite Earth, 857. Household +Surgery; Gray's Poetical Works; Memoirs +of Chalmers; History of Propellers and +Steam Navigation; The Country Year-Book; +Success in Life; Alton Locke, 858. +The Builder's, and the Cabinet-maker and +Upholster's Companion; Lessons from the +History of Medical Delusions; Lexicon of +Terms used in Natural History; Lamartine's +Additional Memoirs, and Genevieve; +Rose's Chemical Tables; Pendennis; +Stockhardt's Principles of Chemistry; Petticoat +Government; Etchings to the Bridge +of Sighs, 859. Bartlett's Natural Philosophy; +Church's Calculus; Lonz Powers; +Abbott's History of Xerxes; Alexander's +Dictionary of Weights and Measures; +America Discovered; Dwight's Christianity +Revived in the East; Grahame, 860. +George Castriot; The Last of the Mohicans; +Johnston's Relations of Science and Agriculture; +Descriptive Geography of Palestine; +Life of Commodore Talbot; American Biblical +Repository; North American Review, +861. Methodist Quarterly Review; Christian +Review; Brownson's Quarterly, 862.</p></blockquote></td></tr> + +<tr><td align="left">Little Mary—A tale of the Irish Famine</td><td align="right">518</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Lizzie Leigh. By <span class="smcap">Charles Dickens</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_38">38</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Longfellow</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_74">74</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Lord Byron, Wordsworth, and Lamb</td><td align="right">293</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Lord Coke and Lord Bacon</td><td align="right">239</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Madame Grandin</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_135a">135</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Married Men</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_106a">106</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Maurice Tiernay. By <span class="smcap">Charles Lever</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_2">2</a>, 219, 329, 487, 627, 790</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Memoirs of the First Duchess of Orleans</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_56">56</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Memories of Miss Jane Porter. By Mrs. S.C. <span class="smcap">Hall</span></td><td align="right">433</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Men and Women</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_89a">89</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Metal in Sea Water</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_71">71</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Milking in Australia</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_37a">37</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Mirabeau. Anecdote of his Private Life.</td><td align="right">648</td></tr> + +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Monthly Record of Current Events</span>.</td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="2"><span class="smcap">domestic</span>.</td></tr> + +<tr><td align="left" colspan="2"><blockquote><p><span class="smcap">General Intelligence</span>.—The invasion +of Cuba, 275. Mr. Webster's letter on the +delivery of fugitive slaves; Reply of Hon. +Horace Mann, 275. Prof. Stuart's pamphlet, +275. The Nashville Convention, 275. +New Southern Paper at Washington, 275. +Connecticut resolutions in favor of the Compromise +Bill, 275. Dinner to Senator Dickenson, +275. Dinner to Hon. Edward Gilbert, +of California, 276. Constitutional conventions +in Ohio and Michigan; Governors +Crittenden and Wright, 276. Anniversary +of the Battle of Bunker Hill, 276. Seizure +of a vessel for violation of the neutrality act, +276. Death of President Taylor; succession +of Mr. Fillmore, and the new Cabinet, +416. Release of the Contoy prisoners, 417. +Incorrect rumor of an insult to the U.S. +Minister to Spain, 417, 703. Fire in Philadelphia, +417. Will saltpetre explode, 417. +Cholera at the West, 417. Professor Webster's +confession, 418. The Collins steamers, +418. Mr. Squier's researches in Central +America, 418. Measures for a direct trade +from the South to Liverpool, 418. Free +School System in New York, 418. Medal +to Colonel Fremont, 418. U.S. Boundary +Commission, 418. State Convention in New +Mexico, 419. Fourth of July Addresses at +various places, 420. Celebration of the Capture +of Stony Point, 420. Affairs at Liberia, +420. American claims on Portugal, 424. +Courtesies between the Corporations of Buffalo +and Toronto, 563. Suffering the growth +of the Canada thistle made penal in Wisconsin, +563. Report of the West Point Board +of Visitors, 563. Project for shortening the +passage of the Atlantic, 563. Gen. Quitman's +letter, 702. Re-election of Mr. Rusk +as Senator from Texas, indicating a disposition +to accept the U.S. proposals, 702. Arrival +of a Turkish Commissioner, 702. +Changes in the Cabinet, 702. Mr. Conrad's +letter to his constituents on the slavery +question, 702. Execution of Prof. Webster, +703. Arrival of Jenny Lind, 703. Opening +of the Gallery of the Art Union, 704. Passage +of the Pacific from Liverpool, the +shortest ever made, 707. Whig State Convention +at Syracuse; Convention of the +seceders at Utica; Letter of Washington +Hunt, 849. Anti-Renters' convention at +Albany, 849. Feeling at the South in relation +to the admission of California, 850. +Hon. C.J. Jenkins on disunion, 850. New +Collins steamers, Arctic and Baltic, 850. +Property in N.Y. City, 850. Swedish colony +in Illinois, 850. Working of the Fugitive +Slave Bill, 850. Jenny Lind's concerts, +850. New York a Catholic Archepiscopal +See, 850. The Boundary Bill in +Texas; Mr. Kaufman's letter, 851. Policy +of Government in relation to the transit of +the Isthmus, 851. Earthquake at Cleveland, +851.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Congressional</span>.—The Compromise Bill +in the Senate, 275. Webster's speech on +the Bill, 416. The Galphin Claim, 416. Final +action of the Senate on the Compromise +Bill, 561. Protest of Southern Senators +against the admission of California, 561. +Proposals to Texas, in relation to the boundary, +562. Discussion in the House on the +Appropriation Bill, 562. President's Message +on Texas and New Mexico, with Webster's +letter to Gov. Bell, of Texas, 562. +Nominations to the Cabinet, 563. Passage +of the Texas Bill, and analysis of the votes, +700. Passage of the California Bill; of the +Fugitive Slave Bill; of Bill abolishing the +Slave-trade in the District, 701. Passage of +the Appropriation Bills, with provisions for +abolishing flogging in the navy, and granting +bounties to soldiers; Adjournment of +Congress, 849.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Elections</span>.—In Virginia for members of +constitutional convention; contest between +the eastern and western sections, 463. In +Missouri, partial success of the Whigs, 463. +In North Carolina, success of the Democrats, +463. In Indiana, giving the Democrats +the control of the legislature and constitutional +convention, 463. In Vermont, +success of the Whigs, 703. Election of +Hon. Solomon Foot as Senator, 850.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">California, New Mexico, and Oregon</span>.—Tax +on foreigners, 276. Excitement +at the delay of admission to the Union, 276. +Riot at Panama, 276. Fires at San Francisco, +419. Gold, 419. Indian hostilities, +419. Bill for the admission of California as +a state into the Union, passed the Senate, +and protest of Southern Senators, 561. Line +of stages between Independence, Mo., and +Santa Fé, 563. Continued discoveries of gold, +566. Disturbances with Foreigners and Indians, +566. Steam communication between +San Francisco and China, 566. Rumors of +gold in Oregon, 566. Resignation of Gov. +Lane, 566. News from the Boundary Commission, +702. Disturbances on account of +Sutter's claims, 705. Cholera on board +steamers, 706. New rumors of gold in +Oregon, 706. Arrival of Senators from New +Mexico; conflict of authorities; Indian outrages, +706. State of affairs in California, +up to Sept. 15, 851. In Oregon to Sept. 2, +852.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mexico And South America</span>.—Presidential +Election in Mexico, Cholera; Right +of Way across the Isthmus, 418. Ravages +of the Indians in Mexico, 566. Transit of +the Isthmus; Opening of the Port of San +Juan, 851. Steamers proposed between +Valparaiso and Panama, 851.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Literary</span>.—Agassiz and Smyth on the +Unity of the Human Race; Address of Professor +Lewis; Bishop Hughes on Socialism. +Walter Colton's book on California; Professor +Davies's Logic and Utility of Mathematics, +276. Bartlett's Natural Philosophy; +Mansfield on American Education, 277. De +Quincey's writings: Poems by Longfellow, +Whittier, and Lowell; Giles's Christian +Thoughts on Life; Bristed's Reply to Mann; +Gould's Comedy, The Very Age, 277. Historical +Society in Trinity College, Hartford, +420. March's Reminiscences of Congress, +564. Torrey's translation of Neander, 564. +Life of Randolph, 565. Kendall's work on +the Mexican War, 565. Commencement +Exercises at various Colleges, 565. G.P.R. +James's Lectures, 704. Andrews's Latin +Lexicon, 704. Hildreth's new volume of +American History, 705. Dr. Wainwright's +Our Saviour with Prophets and Apostles; +Miss McIntosh's Evenings at Donaldson +Manor, 853.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Scientific</span>.—Paine's Water-gas, 277, +564. Forshey's Essay on the deepening of +the channel of the Mississippi, 563. Professor +Page's experiments in electro-magnetism, +564. Mathiot's experiment's at illuminating +with hydrogen, 564. Meeting of +the American Scientific Association at New +Haven, 564. Astronomical Expedition under +Lieutenant Gillis; Humboldt's Notice +of American Science, 705.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Personal</span>.—Arrival of G.P.R. James, +419. Arrival of Gen. Dembinski, 419. Emerson, +Prescott, Hudson, Garibaldi, 420. +Hon. D.D. Barnard, 563. Henry Clay at +Newport, 563. Intelligence from the Franklin +Expedition, 564. Messrs. Lawrence and +Rives at the Royal Agricultural Society, 567. +Messrs. Duer, Spaulding, and Ashmun, decline +re-election to Congress, 702. Ammin +Bey, 702. Jenny Lind, 703. Nomination +of George N. Briggs for re-election as Governor +of Mass., 850. Hamlet the fugitive +Slave, 850. Archbishop Hughes, 851. Bishop +Onderdonk, 851. G.P.R. James and the +Whig Review, 853.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Deaths</span>.—Adam Ramage; S. Margaret +Fuller, 420. Commodore Jacob Jones, 563. +Mr. Nes; Professor Webster; Dr. Judson; +Bishop H.B. Bascom; John Inman, 703. +Gen. Herard, ex-President of Haiti, 706.</p></blockquote></td></tr> + +<tr><td colspan="2"><span class="smcap">foreign</span>.</td></tr> + +<tr><td align="left" colspan="2"><blockquote><p><span class="smcap">England</span>.—Birth of Prince Arthur, <a href="#Page_123a">123</a>. +Mr. Gibson's motion in Parliament to abolish +all taxes on knowledge; bearing of these +taxes; motion negatived; evasion of the +excise on paper by the publisher of the +"Greenock Newscloth," <a href="#Page_124">124</a>. Education +Bill introduced, discussed, and postponed, +<a href="#Page_124">124</a>. Defeat of ministers on unimportant +measures, <a href="#Page_124">124</a>. Preparations for Industrial +Exhibition, <a href="#Page_125">125</a>, 280, 852, 853. Expeditions +in search of Sir John Franklin, <a href="#Page_125">125</a>, 855. The +Greek quarrel, 277. Consequent action of +Russia and Austria in relation to British +subjects, 278. University reform, 278. Imprisonment +of British colored seamen at +Charleston, 278. Sinecures in the ecclesiastical +courts, 278. Motion in Parliament +to give the Australian colonies the full management +of their own affairs, lost, 278. Bill +passed reducing the parliamentary franchise +in Ireland, and speech of Sir James Graham +in its favor, 279. Various bills for Sanitary +and Social reform, 279. Bill to abolish the +Viceroyalty in Ireland, 280. Commission of +inquiry into the state of the Universities, +280. Death of Sir Robert Peel, 420. Discussions +on the Greek question; remarkable +speeches of Lord Palmerston and Lord +John Russell, 421. Sunday labor in the +Post-office, 421. Bill lost for protecting free +sugar; Intra-mural interments Bill passed, +422. Assault on the Queen, 422. Wrecks in +the Northern Atlantic; wreck of the Orion, +422. The Rothschild case, 566. Foreign +policy of ministers sustained, 566. Sundry +Bills for social and political reform lost, 567. +Grants to the Duke of Cambridge and the +Princess Mary, 567. Explosion of a coal-mine, +567. Gen. Haynau mobbed, 706. Prorogation +of Parliament, 706. Lord Brougham's +vagaries, 706. Extent of railways in +Great Britain, 707. The Times and Gen. +Haynau, 852. The Arctic Expedition, 852. +Cotton in Siberia, 852. Lord Clarendon in +Ireland, 852. Queen's University and the +bishops, 852, 855. Shipwrecks, 853. The +Sea Serpent in Ireland, 853. Punishment of +naval officers for carelessness, 853. Amount +of Irish crop, 855. Cunard steamers, 855.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">France</span>.—Contest in Paris for election of +Member of Assembly; election of Eugene +Sue, <a href="#Page_122">122</a>. Mutiny in the 11th Infantry, <a href="#Page_122a">122</a>. +Destruction of the suspension-bridge at Angers, +and terrible loss of life, <a href="#Page_122a">122</a>. Arrest of +M. Proudhon, <a href="#Page_123">123</a>. Capture of Louis Pellet, +a notorious murderer, <a href="#Page_123">123</a>. Bill for restricting +the suffrage, 283. Stringent proceedings +against the Press, 283. Recall of the French +embassador to England, 283. Increase voted +to the salary of the President, 424. New +laws for the restriction of the Press, 424. +Walker's attempt to assassinate Louis Napoleon, +424. M. Thiers's visit to Louis Philippe, +424. Tax on feuilletons, 569. The +President's tour, 707. Death of Louis Philippe, +and notice of his life, 708. Decision +of a majority of the departments in favor of +a revision of the constitution, 709. Duel between +MM. Chavoix and Dupont, 711. Death +of Balzac, and notice of his life and works, +711. The President's plans; revision of the +Constitution, 856.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Germany</span>.—Convocations at Frankfort and +Berlin, 284. Attempt on the life of the King +of Prussia, 284. Dissolution of the Saxon +Chambers, and of the Wurtemberg Diet, +424. Peace Convention at Frankfort, 424, +712. Restrictions on the Press in Prussia, +424. Fresh hostilities in Schleswig-Holstein, +Battle of Idstedt, 570. Proceedings +of Austria, respecting the Act of Confederation, +712. Inundations in Belgium, 712. +General Krogh rewarded by the Emperor +of Russia for his bravery at the battle of +Idstedt, 712. Extension of telegraphs, 855. +Hungarian musicians expelled from Vienna, +855. Colossal statue completed, 855. Revolutions +in Hesse Cassel and Mecklenburg-Schwerin, +856.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Italy, Spain, Portugal</span>.—The Pope's +return, and adhesion to the Absolutists, +<a href="#Page_128">128</a>. State of affairs in Italy, 284. Intrigues +in Spain, 284. Rain after a five years' +drought, 284. Explosion of a powder-mill, +284. Claims of the United States on Portugal, +and consequent difficulties, 424, 569. +Birth and death of an heir to the Spanish +Crown, 569. Disturbances in Piedmont, 712. +Disquiets in Rome, 712. Inundation in +Lombardy, 855. Prisons at Naples, 855.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">India, And The East</span>.—Disturbances +among the Affredies; their villages destroyed +by Sir Charles Napier, <a href="#Page_128">128</a>. Arrangements +of the Pasha of Egypt for +shortening the passage across the desert, +<a href="#Page_128">128</a>. Establishment of a new journal in +China, <a href="#Page_129">129</a>. Permission granted the Jews +for building a temple on Mount Zion, <a href="#Page_129">129</a>. +University in New South Wales, <a href="#Page_129">129</a>. Terrible +explosion at Benares, 570. Sickness +at Canton, 570. The great diamond, 570. +Revolt at Bantam, 570. Sulphur mines in +Egypt, 856.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Literary</span>.—Postponement of the French +Exhibition of Paintings, <a href="#Page_129">129</a>. Goethe's Manuscripts, +423. Mr. Hartley's bequests set +aside, 423. History of Spain, by St. Hilaire, +568. Sir Robert Peel's MSS., 568, 712. Miss +Strickland's forthcoming Lives of the Queens +of Scotland, 569. Bulwer's new novel, 710. +Copyright of foreigners, 710. Sale of the +Paintings of the King of Holland, 710. Lamartine's +Confidences, 710. Notice of Ticknor's +Spanish Literature in the Morning +Chronicle, 710. The North British Review, +711. Sale of the Barbarigo Gallery at Venice, +711. A new singer, 711. New edition of +Owen's Works, 853. Copyrights paid to +American Authors, 854. Theological Faculties +in Germany, 854. Translation of +Dante and Ovid into Hebrew, 854. Books +issued, <a href="#Page_126">126</a>, 282, 422, 564, 710.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Scientific</span>.—Papers read by Murchison +and Lepsius before the Geological Society, +<a href="#Page_125a">125</a>. Before the Royal Society, by O'Brien, +Faraday, and Mantell, <a href="#Page_125a">125</a>. The <i>Pelorosaurus</i>, +<a href="#Page_125a">125</a>. Lead for statues, <a href="#Page_126">126</a>. Operations +of Mr. Layard, <a href="#Page_126">126</a>, 280, 854. Discovery +of ancient Roman coins in the Duchy +of Oldenburg, <a href="#Page_128a">128</a>. Opening of the submarine +telegraph between Dover and Calais, +<a href="#Page_129">129</a>. Experimental slips dropped from +balloons, <a href="#Page_129">129</a>. Box Tunnel, London, <a href="#Page_129">129</a>. +Transplantation of a full grown tree, <a href="#Page_129">129</a>. +Glass pipes for gas, <a href="#Page_129a">129</a>. International +railway commission, <a href="#Page_129a">129</a>. Russian expedition +for exploring the Northern Ural, <a href="#Page_129a">129</a>. +Invention for extinguishing tires, 280. Experiments +on light and heat, 281. Discovery +of a new comet, 281. Unswathing a +mummy, 423. Society for investigating +epidemics; for observations in Meteorology, +423. Depredations on Assyrian and Egyptian +antiquities, 568. Apparatus to render +sea-water drinkable, 568. Improved mode +of producing iron, 569. Prof. Johnston on +American Agriculture, 569. Telegraphic +wire between Dover and Calais, 711. Iron +unsuitable for vessels of war, 853. New +submarine telegraph, 853. The atmopyre, +854. A new star, 854. The Britannia +bridge, 855. Ascent of Mount Blanc, 855.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Social</span>.—Great project for agricultural +emigration, <a href="#Page_129">129</a>. English criminal cases, +<a href="#Page_129a">129</a>. Building for the Industrial exhibition, +567. Lord Campbell on the Sunday Letter +Bill, 707. Extension of the Franchise in +Ireland, 707. Introduction of laborers into +the West Indies, 707. Tenant-right conference +in Dublin, 707. Peace Congress at +Frankfort, 424, 712.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Personal</span>.—Monument to Jeffrey, <a href="#Page_125">125</a>. +Absence of mind of Bowles, <a href="#Page_133">133</a>. Degree +of Doctor of Music conferred upon Meyerbeer, +422. Gutzlaff, Corbould, Gibson, 422. +Baptism of the infant prince, 422. Accident +to Rogers, 423. Monument to Wordsworth, +423. Sir Robert Peel's injunction to his +family not to accept titles or pensions, 567. +Barral and Bixio's balloon ascent, and +Poitevin's horseback ascent, 568. Poverty +of Guizot, 568. Meinhold fined for libel, 569. +Guizot's refusal to accept a seat in the +Council of Public Instruction, 569. Bulwer +a candidate for the House of Commons; his +new play, 569. Ovation to Leibnitz and +Humboldt, 569. Haynau mobbed, 706. +Movements of the Queen, 707. Duel between +MM. Chavoix and Dupont, 711. +Viscount Fielding embraces Catholicism, +855. Prospective liberation of Kossuth, +855.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Deaths</span>.—Wordsworth, Bowles, <a href="#Page_125">125</a>; Sir +James Bathurst, Madame Dulcken, Sir +Archibald Galloway, Admiral Hills, Dr. +Prout, Madame Tussaud, <a href="#Page_128">127</a>; Dr. Potts, +inventor of the hydraulic pile-driver, <a href="#Page_129">129</a>. +Gay Lussac, 282; M.P. Souyet, the Emperor +of China, Earl of Roscommon, Sir James +Sutherland, Mrs. Jeffrey, 283; Sir Robert +Peel, 420; Duke of Cambridge, 422; Dr. +Burns, Dr. Gray, Rev. W. Kirby, B. Simmons, +568; Neander, 569; Louis Philippe, +708; Balzac, 711; Sir Martin Archer Shee, +711. Gale the aeronaut, 854.</p></blockquote></td></tr> + +<tr><td align="left">Moorish Domestic Life</td><td align="right">161</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Morning in Spring</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_87a">87</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Moscow after the Conflagration</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_137">137</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Mrs. Hemans</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_116a">116</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">My Novel; or Varieties in English Life. By <span class="smcap">Sir Edward Bulwer Lytton</span></td><td align="right">659, 761</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">My Wonderful Adventures in Skitzland</td><td align="right">258</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Neander. A Biographical Sketch</td><td align="right">510</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Obstructions to the use of the Telescope</td><td align="right">699</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Ode to the Sun. By <span class="smcap">Hunt</span></td><td align="right">189</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Papers on Water, No. 1</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_50a">50</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Physical Education</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_106">106</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Peace (Poetry). By <span class="smcap">Chas. Dryden</span>.</td><td align="right">194</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Pilgrimage to the Home of Sir Thomas More. By Mrs. S.C. <span class="smcap">Hall</span></td><td align="right">289</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Portrait of Charles I. By <span class="smcap">Vandyck</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_137a">137</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Poverty of the English Bar</td><td align="right">218</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Presence of Mind. By <span class="smcap">De Quincey</span></td><td align="right">467</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Rapid Growth of America</td><td align="right">237</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Recollections of Dr. Chalmers</td><td align="right">383</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Recollections of Eminent Men. By <span class="smcap">Leigh Hunt</span></td><td align="right">184</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Recollections of Thomas Campbell</td><td align="right">345</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Scenery on the Erie Railroad</td><td align="right">213</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Scenes in Egypt</td><td align="right">210</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Shooting Stars and Meteoric Showers</td><td align="right">439</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Short Cuts Across the Globe</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_79">79</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Singular Proceedings of the Sand Wasp. By <span class="smcap">William Howitt</span></td><td align="right">592</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Sir Robert Peel. A Biographical Sketch</td><td align="right">405</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Sketches of English Character—The Old Squire—The Young Squire. By <span class="smcap">William Howitt</span></td><td align="right">460</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Sketches of Life. By a Radical</td><td align="right">803</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Snakes and Serpent Charmers</td><td align="right">680</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Sonnet on the Death of Wordsworth</td><td align="right">218</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Sonetto</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_72a">72</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Sonnets from the Italian</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_114">114</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Sophistry of Anglers. By <span class="smcap">Leigh Hunt</span></td><td align="right">164</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Sorrows and Joys (Poetry)</td><td align="right">627</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Spider's Silk</td><td align="right">824</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Sponges</td><td align="right">406</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Steam</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_50">50</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Steam Bridge of the Atlantic</td><td align="right">411</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Story of a Kite</td><td align="right">750</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Summer Pastime (Poetry)</td><td align="right">524</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Sydney Smith</td><td align="right">584</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Sydney Smith on Moral Philosophy</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_107">107</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Terrestrial Magnetism</td><td align="right">651</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">The American Revolution. By <span class="smcap">Guizot</span></td><td align="right">178</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">The Appetite for News</td><td align="right">249</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">The Approach of Christmas (Poetry)</td><td align="right">454</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">The Australian Colonies</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_118">118</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">The Blind Sister</td><td align="right">826</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">The Brothers Cheeryble</td><td align="right">551</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">The Chapel by the Shore</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_74">74</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">The Character of Burns. By <span class="smcap">Elliott</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_114">114</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">The Chemistry of a Candle</td><td align="right">524</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">The Circassian Priest Warrior and his White Horse (Poetry)</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_98">98</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">The Communist Sparrow—An Anecdote of Cuvier</td><td align="right">317</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">The Corn Law Rhymer</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_135">135</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">The Countess</td><td align="right">816</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">The Death of an Infant (Poetry)</td><td align="right">183</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">The Disasters of a Man who wouldn't trust his Wife. By <span class="smcap">William Howitt</span></td><td align="right">512</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">The Doom of the Slaver</td><td align="right">846</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">The Enchanted Baths</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_139">139</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">The Enchanted Rock</td><td align="right">639</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">The English Peasant. By <span class="smcap">Howitt</span></td><td align="right">483</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">The Every-Day Married Lady</td><td align="right">777</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">The Every-Day Young Lady</td><td align="right">742</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">The Flower Gatherer</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_78">78</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">The Force of Fear</td><td align="right">640</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">The Genius of George Sand. The Comedy of François le Champi</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_95">95</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">The Gentleman Beggar. An Attorney's Story</td><td align="right">588</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">The German Meistersingers</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_81">81</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">The Haunted House in Charnwood Forest</td><td align="right">472</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">The Household Jewels (Poetry)</td><td align="right">692</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">The Imprisoned Lady</td><td align="right">551</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">The Iron Ring</td><td align="right">808</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">The Laboratory in the Chest</td><td align="right">673</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">The Light of Home</td><td align="right">842</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">The Literary Profession—Authors and Publishers</td><td align="right">548</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">The Little Hero of Haarlem</td><td align="right">414</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">The Magic Maze</td><td align="right">684</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">The Mania for Tulips in Holland</td><td align="right">758</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">The Miner's Daughters. A Tale of the Peak</td><td align="right">150</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">The Modern Argonauts (Poetry)</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_120">120</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">The Mother's First Duty</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_105a">105</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">The Mysterious Preacher</td><td align="right">452</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">The Old Church-yard Tree—A Prose-poem</td><td align="right">483</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">The Old Man's Bequest. A Story of Gold</td><td align="right">387</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">The Old Well in Languedoc</td><td align="right">521</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">The Oldest Inhabitant of the Place de Grève</td><td align="right">749</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">The Orphan's Voyage Home (Poetry)</td><td align="right">272</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">The Paris Election</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_116">116</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">The Planet-Watchers of Greenwich</td><td align="right">233</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">The Pleasures of Illness</td><td align="right">697</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">The Pope at Home again</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_117">117</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">The Power of Mercy</td><td align="right">395</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">The Prodigal's Return</td><td align="right">836</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">The Quakers during the American War. By <span class="smcap">Howitt</span></td><td align="right">595</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">The Railway (Poetry)</td><td align="right">826</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">The Railway Station (Poetry)</td><td align="right">163</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">The Railway Works at Crewe</td><td align="right">408</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">The Return of Pope Pius IX. to Rome</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_90">90</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">The Rev. William Lisle Bowles</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_86">86</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">The Salt Mines of Europe</td><td align="right">759</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">The Schoolmaster of Coleridge and Lamb. By <span class="smcap">Leigh Hunt</span></td><td align="right">207</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">The Snowy Mountains in New Zealand</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_65">65</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">The State of the World before Adam</td><td align="right">754</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">The Steel Pen. Illustration of Cheapness</td><td align="right">677</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">The Sun</td><td align="right">689</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">The Tea Plant</td><td align="right">693</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">The Two Guides of the Child</td><td align="right">672</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">The Two Thompsons</td><td align="right">479</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">The Young Advocate</td><td align="right">304</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">The Uses of Sorrow (Poetry)</td><td align="right">193</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">The Wahr-Wolf</td><td align="right">797</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">The Wife of Kong Tolv. A Fairy Tale</td><td align="right">324</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Thomas Babington Macaulay</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_136">136</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Thomas Carlyle. By <span class="smcap">George Gilfillan</span></td><td align="right">586</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Thomas de Quincey, the "English Opium Eater"</td><td align="right">145</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Thomas Moore</td><td align="right">248</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Trial and Execution of Mad. Roland</td><td align="right">732</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Truth</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_137a">137</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Tunnel of the Alps</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_77">77</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Two-handed Dick, the Stockman. A Tale of Adventure in Australia</td><td align="right">190</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Ugliness Redeemed—A Tale of a London Dust-Heap</td><td align="right">455</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Unsectarian Education in England</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_100">100</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Villainy Outwitted</td><td align="right">781</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Wallace and Fawdon (Poetry). By <span class="smcap">Leigh Hunt</span></td><td align="right">400</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">What becomes of all the clever Children?</td><td align="right">402</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">What Horses Think of Men. From the Raven in the Happy Family</td><td align="right">593</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">When the Summer Comes</td><td align="right">780</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">William H. Prescott</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_138">138</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">William Pitt. By <span class="smcap">S.T. Coleridge</span></td><td align="right">202</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">William Wordsworth</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_103">103</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Women in the East</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_10">10</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Work! An Anecdote</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_88">88</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Wordsworth—His Character and Genius. By <span class="smcap">George Gilfillan</span></td><td align="right">577</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Wordsworth's Posthumous Poem</td><td align="right">546</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Writing for Periodicals</td><td align="right">553</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Young Poet's Plaint. By <span class="smcap">Elliott</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_113">113</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Young Russia—State of Society in the Russian Empire</td><td align="right">269</td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.</h2> + + + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" width="90%" summary="LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS."> +<tr><td align="left"> </td><td align="right"><span class="smcap">page</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">PORTRAIT OF ARCHIBALD ALISON</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_134">134</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">PORTRAIT OF THOMAS BABINGTON MACAULAY</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_136">136</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">PORTRAIT OF WILLIAM H. PRESCOTT</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_138">138</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">THE PYRAMIDS</td><td align="right">210</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">SECTION OF THE GREAT PYRAMID</td><td align="right">211</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">THE GREAT HALL AT KARNAK</td><td align="right">212</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">VIEW FROM PIERMONT (<span class="smcap">Erie Railroad</span>)</td><td align="right">213</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">VALLEY OF THE NEVERSINK (<span class="smcap">from the Erie Railroad</span>)</td><td align="right">214</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">STARUCCA VIADUCT (<span class="smcap">Erie Railroad</span>)</td><td align="right">215</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">PORTRAIT OF SIR THOMAS MORE</td><td align="right">289</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">BOX CONTAINING THE SKULL OF MORE</td><td align="right">289</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">CLOCK HOUSE AT CHELSEA</td><td align="right">290</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">HOUSE OF SIR THOMAS MORE</td><td align="right">292</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">CHELSEA CHURCH</td><td align="right">293</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">TOMB OF SIR THOMAS MORE</td><td align="right">294</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">HOUSE OF ROPER, MORE'S SON-IN-LAW</td><td align="right">295</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">SIR THOMAS MORE AND HIS DAUGHTER</td><td align="right">296</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">PORTRAIT OF ZACHARY TAYLOR</td><td align="right">298</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">PORTRAIT OF JANE PORTER</td><td align="right">433</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">JANE PORTER'S COTTAGE AT ESHER</td><td align="right">437</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">TOMB OF JANE PORTER'S MOTHER</td><td align="right">438</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">SHOOTING STARS (<span class="smcap">Six Illustrations</span>)</td><td align="right">439</td></tr> + +<tr><td align="left" colspan="2"><blockquote><p><span class="smcap">initial Letter. Meteoric Showers in Greenland. Meteors at the Falls of +Niagara. Falling Stars among the Cordilleras. The November Meteors. +Diagram.</span></p></blockquote></td></tr> + +<tr><td align="left">NEANDER IN THE LECTURE ROOM</td><td align="right">510</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">PORTRAIT OF WILLIAM WORDSWORTH</td><td align="right">577</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">WORDSWORTH'S HOME AT RYDAL MOUNT</td><td align="right">581</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">PORTRAIT OF SYDNEY SMITH</td><td align="right">584</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">PORTRAIT OF THOMAS CARLYLE</td><td align="right">586</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">REVOLUTIONARY MEMORIALS (<span class="smcap">Fifteen Illustrations</span>)</td><td align="right">721</td></tr> + +<tr><td align="left" colspan="2"><blockquote><p><span class="smcap">Initial Letter. Monument at Concord. Monument at Lexington. Near +View of Lexington Monument. Portrait of Jonathan Harrington. Washington's +Head-quarters at Cambridge. The Riedesel House at Cambridge. Autograph +of the Baroness Riedesel. Bunker Hill Monument. Chantrey's Statue +of Washington. Mather's Vault. Handwriting of Cotton Mather. Speaker's +Desk and Winthrop's Chair. Philip's Samp-Pan. Church's Sword.</span></p></blockquote></td></tr> + +<tr><td align="left">PORTRAIT OF MADAME ROLAND</td><td align="right">732</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">FASHIONS FOR EARLY SUMMER (<span class="smcap">Six Illustrations</span>)</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_142">142</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align="left" colspan="2"><blockquote><p><span class="smcap">Ball and Visiting Dresses. Straw Hats for Promenade. Straw Bonnet. +Tulip Bonnet. Lace Jacquette.</span></p></blockquote></td></tr> + +<tr><td align="left">FASHIONS FOR SUMMER (<span class="smcap">Three Illustrations</span>)</td><td align="right">287</td></tr> + +<tr><td align="left" colspan="2"><blockquote><p><span class="smcap">Carriage Costume. Bridal Dress. Riding Dress.</span></p></blockquote></td></tr> + +<tr><td align="left">FASHIONS FOR LATER SUMMER (<span class="smcap">Five Illustrations</span>)</td><td align="right">435</td></tr> + +<tr><td align="left" colspan="2"><blockquote><p><span class="smcap">Promenade Dress. Pelerines. Little Girl's Costume. Home Dress. Ball +Dress.</span></p></blockquote></td></tr> + +<tr><td align="left">FASHIONS FOR EARLY AUTUMN (<span class="smcap">Four Illustrations</span>)</td><td align="right">573</td></tr> + +<tr><td align="left" colspan="2"><blockquote><p><span class="smcap">Promenade Dress. Costume for a Young Lady. Morning Caps. Morning +Costume.</span></p></blockquote></td></tr> + +<tr><td align="left">FASHIONS FOR AUTUMN (<span class="smcap">Three Illustrations</span>)</td><td align="right">718</td></tr> + +<tr><td align="left" colspan="2"><blockquote><p><span class="smcap">Evening Costume. Morning Costume. Promenade Dress.</span></p></blockquote></td></tr> + +<tr><td align="left">FASHIONS FOR NOVEMBER (<span class="smcap">Three Illustrations</span>)</td><td align="right">863</td></tr> + +<tr><td align="left" colspan="2"><blockquote><p><span class="smcap">Promenade And Carriage Costume. Morning Costume. Opera Costume.</span></p></blockquote></td></tr> + +</table></div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h1><small>HARPER'S</small><br /> + +NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE.</h1> + +<hr /> +<h4><span class="smcap">No.</span> I—JUNE, 1850—<span class="smcap">Vol</span>. I.</h4> +<hr /> + + +<h2>A WORD AT THE START.</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Harper's New Monthly Magazine</span>, of +which this is the initial number, will be +published every month, at the rate of three dollars +per annum. Each number will contain as +great an amount and variety of reading matter, +and at least as many pictorial illustrations, and +will be published in the same general style, as +the present.</p> + +<p>The design of the Publishers, in issuing this +work, is to place within the reach of the great +mass of the American people the unbounded +treasures of the Periodical Literature of the +present day. Periodicals enlist and absorb much +of the literary talent, the creative genius, the +scholarly accomplishment of the present age. +The best writers, in all departments and in every +nation, devote themselves mainly to the Reviews, +Magazines, or Newspapers of the day. And it +is through their pages that the most powerful +historical Essays, the most elaborate critical Disquisitions, +the most eloquent delineations of +Manners and of Nature, the highest Poetry and +the most brilliant Wit, have, within the last ten +years, found their way to the public eye and the +public heart.</p> + +<p>This devotion to Periodical writing is rapidly +increasing. The leading authors of Great Britain +and of France, as well as of the United +States, are regular and constant contributors to +the Periodicals of their several countries. The +leading statesmen of France have been for years +the leading writers in her journals. <span class="smcap">Lamartine</span> +has just become the editor of a newspaper. +<span class="smcap">Dickens</span> has just established a weekly journal +of his own, through which he is giving to the +world some of the most exquisite and delightful +creations that ever came from his magic pen. +<span class="smcap">Alison</span> writes constantly for Blackwood. <span class="smcap">Lever</span> +is enlisted in the Dublin University Magazine. +<span class="smcap">Bulwer</span> and <span class="smcap">Croly</span> publish their greatest and +most brilliant novels first in the pages of the +Monthly Magazines of England and of Scotland. +<span class="smcap">Macaulay</span>, the greatest of living Essayists and +Historians, has enriched the Edinburgh Review +with volumes of the most magnificent productions +of English Literature. And so it is with +all the living authors of England. The ablest +and the best of their productions are to be found +in Magazines. The wealth and freshness of the +Literature of the Nineteenth Century are embodied +in the pages of its Periodicals.</p> + +<p>The Weekly and Daily Journals of England, +France, and America, moreover, abound in the +most brilliant contributions in every department +of intellectual effort. The current of Political +Events, in an age of unexampled political activity, +can be traced only through their columns. +Scientific discovery, Mechanical inventions, the +creations of Fine Art, the Orations of Statesmen, +all the varied intellectual movements of +this most stirring and productive age, find their +only record upon these multiplied and ephemeral +pages.</p> + +<p>It is obviously impossible that all these sources +of instruction and of interest should be accessible +to any considerable number even of the reading +public, much less that the great mass of the +people of this country should have any opportunity +of becoming familiar with them. They are +scattered through scores and hundreds of magazines +and journals, intermingled with much that +is of merely local and transient interest, and are +thus hopelessly excluded from the knowledge +and the reach of readers at large.</p> + +<p>The Publishers of the <span class="smcap">New Monthly Magazine</span> +intend to remedy this evil, and to place +every thing of the Periodical Literature of the +day, which has permanent value and commanding +interest, in the hands of all who have the slightest +desire to become acquainted with it. Each +number will contain 144 octavo pages, in double +columns: the volumes of a single year, therefore, +will present nearly two thousand pages +of the choicest and most attractive of the Miscellaneous<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span> +Literature of the Age. The <span class="smcap">Magazine</span> +will transfer to its pages as rapidly as +they may be issued all the continuous tales of +<span class="smcap">Dickens, Bulwer, Croly, Lever, Warren</span>, and +other distinguished contributors to British Periodicals: +articles of commanding interest from +all the leading Quarterly Reviews of both Great +Britain and the United States: Critical Notices +of the current publications of the day: Speeches +and Addresses of distinguished men upon topics +of universal interest and importance: Notices +of Scientific discoveries, of the progress and +fruits of antiquarian research, of mechanical inventions, +of incidents of travel and exploration, +and generally of all the events in Science, Literature, +and Art in which the people at large have +any interest. Constant and special regard will +be had to such articles as relate to the Economy +of Social and Domestic Life, or tend to promote +in any way the education, advancement, +and well-being of those who are engaged in any +department of productive activity. A carefully +prepared Fashion Plate, and other pictorial illustrations, +will also accompany each number.</p> + +<p>The <span class="smcap">Magazine</span> is not intended exclusively for +any class of readers, or for any kind of reading. +The Publishers have at their command the exhaustless +resources of current Periodical Literature +in all its departments. They have the +aid of Editors in whom both they and the public +have long since learned to repose full and implicit +confidence. They have no doubt that, by +a careful, industrious, and intelligent use of these +appliances, they can present a Monthly Compendium +of the periodical productions of the day +which no one who has the slightest relish for +miscellaneous reading, or the slightest desire to +keep himself informed of the progress and results +of the literary genius of his own age, would +willingly be without. And they intend to publish +it at so low a rate, and to give to it a value +so much beyond its price, that it shall make its +way into the hands or the family circle of every +intelligent citizen of the United States.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3>[From the Dublin University Magazine.]</h3> + +<h2>MAURICE TIERNAY, THE SOLDIER OF FORTUNE.</h2> + + +<h3>CHAPTER I. "THE DAYS OF THE GUILLOTINE."</h3> + +<p>Neither the tastes nor the temper of the +age we live in are such as to induce any +man to boast of his family nobility. We see too +many preparations around us for laying down +new foundations, to think it a suitable occasion +for alluding to the ancient edifice. I will, therefore, +confine myself to saying, that I am not to +be regarded as a mere Pretender because my +name is not chronicled by Burke or Debrett. +My great-grandfather, after whom I am called, +served on the personal staff of King James at the +Battle of the Boyne, and was one of the few who +accompanied the monarch on his flight from the +field, for which act of devotion he was created +a peer of Ireland, by the style and title of Timmahoo—Lord +Tiernay of Timmahoo the family +called it—and a very rich-sounding and pleasant +designation has it always seemed to me.</p> + +<p>The events of the time—the scanty intervals +of leisure enjoyed by the king, and other matters, +prevented a due registry of my ancestors' claims; +and, in fact, when more peaceable days succeeded +it, it was judged prudent to say nothing +about a matter which might revive unhappy recollections, +and open old scores, seeing that there +was now another king on the throne "who knew +not Joseph;" and so, for this reason and many +others, my great-grandfather went back to his +old appellation of Maurice Tiernay, and was +only a lord among his intimate friends and cronies +of the neighborhood.</p> + +<p>That I am simply recording a matter of fact, +the patent of my ancestors' nobility now in my +possession will sufficiently attest: nor is its existence +the less conclusive, that it is inscribed on +the back of his commission as a captain in the +Shanabogue Fencibles—the well-known "Clear-the-way-boys"—a +proud title, it is said, to which +they imparted a new reading at the memorable +battle afore-mentioned.</p> + +<p>The document bears the address of a small +public house called the Nest, on the Kells Road, +and contains in one corner a somewhat lengthy +score for potables, suggesting the notion that his +majesty sympathized with vulgar infirmities, and +found, as the old song says, "that grief and sorrow +are dry."</p> + +<p>The prudence which for some years sealed +my grandfather's lips, lapsed, after a time, into +a careless and even boastful spirit, in which he +would allude to his rank in the peerage, the +place he ought to be holding, and so on; till at +last some of the government people, doubtless +taking a liking to the snug house and demesne +of Timmahoo, denounced him as a rebel, on +which he was arrested and thrown into jail, +where he lingered for many years, and only +came out at last to find his estate confiscated +and himself a beggar.</p> + +<p>There was a small gathering of Jacobites in +one of the towns of Flanders, and thither he repaired; +but how he lived, or how he died, I never +learned. I only know that his son wandered +away to the east of Europe, and took service in +what was called Trenck's Pandours—as jolly a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span> +set of robbers as ever stalked the map of Europe, +from one side to the other. This was my +grandfather, whose name is mentioned in various +chronicles of that estimable corps, and who was +hanged at Prague afterward for an attempt to +carry off an archduchess of the empire, to whom, +by the way, there is good reason to believe he +was privately married. This suspicion was +strengthened by the fact that his infant child, +Joseph, was at once adopted by the imperial +family, and placed as a pupil in the great military +school of Vienna. From thence he obtained +a commission in the Maria Theresa Hussars, and +subsequently, being sent on a private mission +to France, entered the service of Louis XVI., +where he married a lady of the queen's household—a +Mademoiselle de la Lasterie—of high +rank and some fortune; and with whom he lived +happily till the dreadful events of 17—, when +she lost her life, beside my father, then fighting +as a Garde du Corps, on the stair-case at Versailles. +How he himself escaped on that day, +and what were the next features in his history, +I never knew; but when again we heard of +him, he was married to the widow of a celebrated +orator of the Mountain, and he himself an +intimate friend of St. Just and Marat, and all the +most violent of the Republicans.</p> + +<p>My father's history about this period is involved +in such obscurity, and his second marriage +followed so rapidly on the death of his first wife, +that, strange as it may seem, I never knew who +was my mother—the lineal descendant of a +house, noble before the Crusades, or the humble +"bourgeoise" of the Quartier St. Denis. What +peculiar line of political action my father followed +I am unable to say, nor whether he was +suspected with or without due cause: but suspected +he certainly was, and at a time when +suspicion was all-sufficient for conviction. He +was arrested, and thrown into the Temple, +where I remember I used to visit him every +week; and whence I accompanied him one +morning, as he was led forth with a string of +others to the Place de la Grève, to be guillotined. +I believe he was accused of royalism; and I +know that a white cockade was found among +his effects, and in mockery was fastened on his +shoulder on the day of his execution. This +emblem, deep dyed with blood, and still dripping, +was taken up by a bystander, and pinned on my +cap, with the savage observation, "Voila, it is +the proper color; see that you profit by the way +it became so." As with a bursting heart, and +a head wild with terror, I turned to find my way +homeward, I felt my hand grasped by another—I +looked up, and saw an old man, whose +threadbare black clothes and emaciated appearance +bespoke the priest in the times of the +Convention.</p> + +<p>"You have no home now, my poor boy," said +he to me; "come and share mine."</p> + +<p>I did not ask him why. I seemed to have +suddenly become reckless as to every thing +present or future. The terrible scene I had +witnessed had dried up all the springs of my +youthful heart; and, infant as I was, I was already +a skeptic as to every thing good or +generous in human nature. I followed him, +therefore, without a word, and we walked on, +leaving the thoroughfares and seeking the less +frequented streets, till we arrived in what seemed +a suburban part of Paris—at least the houses +were surrounded with trees and shrubs; and at +a distance I could see the hill of Montmartre +and its wind-mills—objects well known to me +by many a Sunday visit.</p> + +<p>Even after my own home, the poverty of the +Père Michel's household was most remarkable: +he had but one small room, of which a miserable +settle-bed, two chairs, and a table constituted +all the furniture; there was no fire-place, a little +pan for charcoal supplying the only means for +warmth or cookery; a crucifix and a few +colored prints of saints decorated the whitewashed +walls; and, with a string of wooden +beads, a cloth skull-cap, and a bracket with two +or three books, made up the whole inventory of +his possessions; and yet, as he closed the door +behind him, and drew me toward him to kiss +my cheek, the tears glistened in his eyes with +gratitude as he said,</p> + +<p>"Now, my dear Maurice, you are at home."</p> + +<p>"How do you know that I am called Maurice?" +said I, in astonishment.</p> + +<p>"Because I was an old friend of your poor +father, my child; we came from the same +country—we held the same faith, had the same +hopes, and may one day yet, perhaps, have the +same fate."</p> + +<p>He told me that the closest friendship had +bound them together for years past, and in +proof of it showed me a variety of papers which +my father had intrusted to his keeping, well +aware, as it would seem, of the insecurity of +his own life.</p> + +<p>"He charged me to take you home with me, +Maurice, should the day come when this might +come to pass. You will now live with me, and +I will be your father, so far at least as humble +means will suffer me."</p> + +<p>I was too young to know how deep my debt +of gratitude ought to be. I had not tasted the +sorrows of utter desertion; nor did I know from +what a hurricane of blood and anarchy fortune +had rescued me; still I accepted the Père's +benevolent offer with a thankful heart, and +turned to him at once as to all that was left to +me in the world.</p> + +<p>All this time, it may be wondered how I +neither spoke nor thought of my mother, if she +were indeed such; but for several weeks before +my father's death I had never seen her, nor did +he ever once allude to her. The reserve thus +imposed upon me remained still, and I felt as +though it would have been like a treachery to +his memory were I now to speak of her whom, +in his life-time I had not dared to mention.</p> + +<p>The Père lost no time in diverting my mind +from the dreadful events I had so lately witnessed. +The next morning, soon after daybreak, +I was summoned to attend him to the little<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span> +church of St. Blois, where he said mass. It +was a very humble little edifice, which once +had been the private chapel of a chateau, and +stood in a weed-grown, neglected garden, where +broken statues and smashed fountains bore evidence +of the visits of the destroyer. A rude +effigy of St. Blois, upon whom some profane +hand had stuck a Phrygian cap of liberty, and +which none were bold enough to displace, stood +over the doorway; besides, not a vestige of +ornament or decoration existed. The altar, +covered with a white cloth, displayed none of +the accustomed emblems; and a rude crucifix +of oak was the only symbol of the faith remaining. +Small as was the building, it was even +too spacious for the few who came to worship. +The terror which prevailed on every side—the +dread that devotion to religion should be construed +into an adherence to the monarchy, that +submission to God should be interpreted as an +act of rebellion against the sovereignty of human +will, had gradually thinned the numbers, till at +last the few who came were only those whose +afflictions had steeled them against any reverses, +and who were ready martyrs to whatever might +betide them. These were almost exclusively +women—the mothers and wives of those who +had sealed their faith with their blood in the +terrible Place de la Grève. Among them was +one whose dress and appearance, although not +different from the rest, always created a movement +of respect as she passed in or out of the +chapel. She was a very old lady, with hair +white as snow, and who led by the hand a little +girl of about my own age; her large dark eyes +and brilliant complexion giving her a look of +unearthly beauty in that assemblage of furrowed +cheeks, and eyes long dimmed by weeping. It +was not alone that her features were beautifully +regular, or that their lines were fashioned in the +very perfection of symmetry, but there was a +certain character in the expression of the face so +different from all around it, as to be almost +electrical in effect. Untouched by the terrible +calamities that weighed on every heart, she +seemed, in the glad buoyancy of her youth, to +be at once above the very reach of sorrow, like +one who bore a charmed fate, and whom Fortune +had exempted from all the trials of this life. So +at least did I read those features, as they beamed +upon me in such a contract to the almost stern +character of the sad and sorrow-struck faces of +the rest.</p> + +<p>It was a part of my duty to place a foot-stool +each morning for the "Marquise," as she was +distinctively called, and on these occasions it +was that I used to gaze upon that little girl's +face with a kind of admiring wonder that lingered +in my heart for hours after. The bold +look with which she met mine, if it at first half +abashed, at length encouraged me; and as I +stole noiselessly away, I used to feel as though +I carried with me some portion of that high +hope which bounded within her own heart. +Strange magnetism! it seemed as though her +spirit whispered to me not to be down-hearted +or depressed—that the sorrows of life came and +went as shadows pass over the earth—that the +season of mourning was fast passing, and that +for us the world would wear a brighter and +more glorious aspect.</p> + +<p>Such were the thoughts her dark eyes revealed +to me, and such the hopes I caught up from her +proud features.</p> + +<p>It is easy to color a life of monotony; any hue +may soon tinge the outer surface, and thus mine +speedily assumed a hopeful cast; not the less +decided, that the distance was lost in vague uncertainty. +The nature of my studies—and the +Père kept me rigidly to the desk—offered little +to the discursiveness of fancy. The rudiments +of Greek and Latin, the lives of saints and +martyrs, the litanies of the church, the invocations +peculiar to certain holy days, chiefly filled +up my time, when not sharing those menial +offices which our poverty exacted from our own +hands.</p> + +<p>Our life was of the very simplest; except a +cup of coffee each morning at daybreak, we took +but one meal; our drink was always water. +By what means even the humble fare we enjoyed +was procured, I never knew, for I never +saw money in the Père's possession, nor did he +ever appear to buy any thing.</p> + +<p>For about two hours in the week I used to +enjoy entire liberty, as the Père was accustomed +every Saturday to visit certain persons of his +flock who were too infirm to go abroad. On +these occasions he would leave me with some +thoughtful injunction about reflection or pious +meditation, perhaps suggesting, for my amusement, +the life of St. Vincent de Paul, or some +other of those adventurous spirits whose missions +among the Indians are so replete with heroic +struggles; but still with free permission for me +to walk out at large and enjoy myself as I liked +best. We lived so near the outer Boulevard +that I could already see the open country from +our windows; but fair and enticing as seemed +the sunny slopes of Montmartre—bright as +glanced the young leaves of spring in the gardens +at its foot—I ever turned my steps into the +crowded city, and sought the thoroughfares +where the great human tide rolled fullest.</p> + +<p>There were certain spots which held a kind +of supernatural influence over me—one of these +was the Temple, another was the Place de la +Grève. The window at which my father used +to sit, from which, as a kind of signal, I have +so often seen his red kerchief floating, I never +could pass now, without stopping to gaze at; +now, thinking of him who had been its inmate, +now, wondering who might be its present occupant. +It needed not the onward current of +population that each Saturday bore along, to +carry me to the Place de la Grève. It was +the great day of the guillotine, and as many as +two hundred were often led out to execution. +Although the spectacle had now lost every +charm of excitement to the population, from its +frequency, it had become a kind of necessity to +their existence, and the sight of blood alone<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span> +seemed to slake that feverish thirst for vengeance +which no sufferings appeared capable of satiating. +It was rare, however, when some great +and distinguished criminal did not absorb all the +interest of the scene. It was at that period +when the fierce tyrants of the Convention had +turned upon each other, and sought, by denouncing +those who had been their bosom friends, to +seal their new allegiance to the people. There +was something demoniacal in the exultation +with which the mob witnessed the fate of those +whom, but a few weeks back, they had acknowledged +as their guides and teachers. The +uncertainty of human greatness appeared the +most glorious recompense to those whose station +debarred them from all the enjoyments of power, +and they stood by the death-agonies of their +former friends with a fiendish joy that all the +sufferings of their enemies had never yielded.</p> + +<p>To me the spectacles had all the fascination +that scenes of horror exercise over the mind of +youth. I knew nothing of the terrible conflict, +nothing of the fierce passions enlisted in the +struggle, nothing of the sacred names so basely +polluted, nothing of that remorseless vengeance +with which the low-born and degraded were +still hounded on to slaughter. It was a solemn +and a fearful sight, but it was no more; and I +gazed upon every detail of the scene with an +interest that never wandered from the spot +whereon it was enacted. If the parade of +soldiers, of horse, foot, and artillery, gave these +scenes a character of public justice, the horrible +mobs, who chanted ribald songs, and danced +around the guillotine, suggested the notion of +popular vengeance; so that I was lost in all my +attempts to reconcile the reasons of these executions +with the circumstances that accompanied +them.</p> + +<p>Not daring to inform the Père Michel of +where I had been, I could not ask him for any +explanation; and thus was I left to pick up +from the scattered phrases of the crowd what +was the guilt alleged against the criminals. +In many cases the simple word "Chouan," of +which I knew not the import, was all I heard; +in others jeering allusions to former rank and +station would be uttered; while against some +the taunt would imply that they had shed tears +over others who fell as enemies of the people, +and that such sympathy was a costly pleasure +to be paid for but with a life's-blood. Such +entire possession of me had these awful sights +taken, that I lived in a continual dream of them. +The sound of every cart-wheel recalled the dull +rumble of the hurdle—every distant sound +seemed like the far-off hum of the coming multitude—every +sudden noise suggested the clanking +drop of the guillotine! My sleep had no +other images, and I wandered about my little +round of duties pondering over this terrible +theme.</p> + +<p>Had I been less occupied with my own +thoughts, I must have seen that Père Michel +was suffering under some great calamity. The +poor priest became wasted to a shadow; for +entire days long he would taste of nothing; +sometimes he would be absent from early morning +to late at night, and when he did return, +instead of betaking himself to rest, he would +drop down before the crucifix in an agony of +prayer, and thus spend more than half the night. +Often and often have I, when feigning sleep, +followed him as he recited the litanies of the +breviary, adding my own unuttered prayers to +his, and beseeching for a mercy whose object I +knew not.</p> + +<p>For some time his little chapel had been +closed by the authorities; a heavy padlock and +two massive seals being placed upon the door, +and a notice, in a vulgar handwriting, appended, +to the effect, that it was by the order of the +Commissary of the Department. Could this be +the source of the Père's sorrow? or did not his +affliction seem too great for such a cause? were +questions I asked myself again and again.</p> + +<p>In this state were matters, when one morning, +it was a Saturday, the Père enjoined me to +spend the day in prayer, reciting particularly +the liturgies for the dead, and all those sacred +offices for those who have just departed this +life.</p> + +<p>"Pray unceasingly, my dear child—pray with +your whole heart, as though it were for one you +loved best in the world. I shall not return, +perhaps, till late to-night; but I will kiss you +then, and to-morrow we shall go into the woods +together."</p> + +<p>The tears fell from his cheek to mine as he +said this, and his damp hand trembled as he +pressed my fingers. My heart was full to +bursting at his emotion, and I resolved faithfully +to do his bidding. To watch him, as he went, +I opened the sash, and as I did so, the sound of +a distant drum, the well-known muffled roll, +floated on the air, and I remembered it was the +day of the guillotine—that day in which my +feverish spirit turned, as it were in relief, to the +reality of blood. Remote as was the part of +the city we lived in, to escape from the hideous +imaginings of my overwrought brain, I could +still mark the hastening steps of the foot-passengers, +as they listened to the far-off summons, +and see the tide was setting toward the fatal +Place de Grève. It was a lowering, heavy +morning, overcast with clouds, and on its loaded +atmosphere sounds moved slowly and indistinctly; +yet I could trace through all the din of the +great city, the incessant roll of the drums, and +the loud shouts that burst forth, from time to +time, from some great multitude.</p> + +<p>Forgetting every thing, save my intense passion +for scenes of terror, I hastened down the +stairs into the street, and at the top of my speed +hurried to the place of execution. As I went +along, the crowded streets and thronged avenues +told of some event of more than common interest; +and in the words which fell from those +around me I could trace that some deep Royalist +plot had just been discovered, and that the +conspirators would all on that day be executed. +Whether it was that the frequent sight of blood<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span> +was beginning to pall upon the popular appetite, +or that these wholesale massacres interested +less than the sight of individual suffering, +I know not; but certainly there was less of +exultation, less of triumphant scorn in the tone +of the speakers. They talked of the coming +event, as of a common occurrence, which, from +mere repetition, was gradually losing interest.</p> + +<p>"I thought we had done with these Chouans," +said a man in a blouse, with a paper cap on his +head. "Pardie! they must have been more +numerous than we ever suspected."</p> + +<p>"That they were, citoyen," said a haggard-looking +fellow, whose features showed the signs +of recent strife; "they were the millions who +gorged and fed upon us for centuries—who +sipped the red grape of Bourdeaux, while you +and I drank the water of the Seine."</p> + +<p>"Well, their time is come now," cried a third.</p> + +<p>"And when will ours come?" asked a fresh-looking, +dark-eyed girl, whose dress bespoke +her trade of <i>bouquetiere</i>—"Do you call this our +time, my masters, when Paris has no more +pleasant sight than blood, nor any music save +the 'ça ira' that drowns the cries at the guillotine? +Is this our time, when we have lost +those who gave us bread, and got in their place +only those who would feed us with carnage?"</p> + +<p>"Down with her! down with the Chouan! +à bas la Royaliste!" cried the pale-faced fellow; +and he struck the girl with his fist upon +the face, and left it covered with blood.</p> + +<p>"To the lantern with her!—to the Seine!" +shouted several voices; and now, rudely seizing +her by the shoulders, the mob seemed bent +upon sudden vengeance; while the poor girl, +letting fall her basket, begged, with clasped +hands, for mercy.</p> + +<p>"See here, see here, comrades," cried a fellow, +stooping down among the flowers, "she is +a Royalist: here are lilies hid beneath the rest."</p> + +<p>What sad consequences this discovery might +have led to, there is no knowing; when, suddenly, +a violent rush of the crowd turned every +thought into a different direction. It was caused +by a movement of the Gendarmerie à cheval, +who were clearing the way for the approaching +procession. I had just time to place the poor +girl's basket in her hands, as the onward impulse +of the dense mob carried me forward. I +saw her no more. A flower—I know not how +it came there—was in my bosom, and seeing +that it was a lily, I placed it in my cap for concealment.</p> + +<p>The hoarse clangor of the bassoons—the only +instruments which played during the march—now +told that the procession was approaching; +and then I could see, above the heads of the +multitude, the leopard-skin helmets of the dragoons, +who led the way. Save this I could see +nothing, as I was borne along in the vast torrent +toward the place of execution. Slowly as +we moved, our progress was far more rapid +than that of the procession, which was often +obliged to halt from the density of the mob in +front. We arrived, therefore, at the Place a +considerable time before it; and now I found +myself beside the massive wooden railing placed +to keep off the crowd from the space around the +guillotine.</p> + +<p>It was the first time I had ever stood so close +to the fatal spot, and my eyes devoured every +detail with the most searching intensity. The +colossal guillotine itself, painted red, and with +its massive ax suspended aloft—the terrible +basket, half filled with sawdust, beneath—the +coarse table, on which a rude jar and a cap +were placed—and, more disgusting than all, the +lounging group, who, with their newspapers in +hand, seemed from time to time to watch if the +procession were approaching. They sat beneath +a misshapen statue of wood, painted red like the +guillotine. This was the goddess of Liberty. +I climbed one of the pillars of the paling, and +could now see the great cart, which, like a boat +upon wheels, came slowly along, dragged by +six horses. It was crowded with people, so +closely packed that they could not move their +bodies, and only waved their hands, which they +did incessantly. They seemed, too, as if they +were singing; but the deep growl of the bassoons, +and the fierce howlings of the mob, +drowned all other sounds. As the cart came +nearer, I could distinguish the faces, amid +which were those of age and youth—men and +women—bold-visaged boys and fair girls—some, +whose air bespoke the very highest station, +and beside them, the hardy peasant, apparently +more amazed than terrified at all he +saw around him. On they came, the great cart +surging heavily, like a bark in a stormy sea; +and now it cleft the dense ocean that filled the +Place, and I could descry the lineaments wherein +the stiffened lines of death were already +marked. Had any touch of pity still lingered +in that dense crowd, there might well have +been some show of compassion for the sad convoy, +whose faces grew ghastly with terror as +they drew near the horrible engine.</p> + +<p>Down the furrowed cheek of age the heavy +tears coursed freely, and sobs and broken prayers +burst forth from hearts that until now had +beat high and proudly.</p> + +<p>"There is the Duc d'Angeaç," cried a fellow, +pointing to a venerable old man, who was seated +at the corner of the cart, with an air of calm +dignity; "I know him well, for I was his perruquier."</p> + +<p>"His hair must be content with sawdust this +morning, instead of powder," said another; and +a rude laugh followed the ruffian jest.</p> + +<p>"See! mark that woman with the long dark +hair—that is La Bretonville, the actress of the +St. Martin."</p> + +<p>"I have often seen her represent terror far +more naturally," cried a fashionably-dressed +man, as he stared at the victim through his +opera-glass.</p> + +<p>"Bah!" replied his friend, "she despises +her audience, <i>voila tout</i>. Look, Henri, if that +little girl beside her be not Lucille of the +Pantheon."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Parbleu! so it is. Why, they'll not leave +a pirouette in the Grand Opera. Pauvre petite, +what had you to do with politics?"</p> + +<p>"Her little feet ought to have saved her head +any day."</p> + +<p>"See how grim that old lady beside her +looks: I'd swear she is more shocked at the +company she's thrown into, than the fate that +awaits her. I never saw a glance of prouder +disdain than she has just bestowed on poor +Lucille."</p> + +<p>"That's the old Marquise d'Estelles, the +very essence of our old nobility. They used +to talk of their mesalliance with the Bourbons +as the first misfortune of their house."</p> + +<p>"Pardie! they have lived to learn deeper +sorrows."</p> + +<p>I had by this time discovered her they were +speaking of, whom I recognized at once as the +old marquise of the chapel of St. Blois. My +hands nearly gave up their grasp as I gazed on +those features, which so often I had seen fixed +in prayer, and which now—a thought paler, +perhaps—wore the self-same calm expression. +With what intense agony I peered into the +mass, to see if the little girl, her grand-daughter, +were with her; and, oh! the deep relief I felt +as I saw nothing but strange faces on every +side. It was terrible to feel, as my eyes ranged +over that vast mass, where grief and despair, and +heart-sinking terror were depicted, that I should +experience a spirit of joy and thankfulness; and +yet I did so, and with my lips I uttered my +gratitude that she was spared! But I had not +time for many reflections like this; already the +terrible business of the day had begun, and the +prisoners were now descending from the cart, +ranging themselves, as their names were called, +in a line below the scaffold. With a few exception, +they took their places in all the calm +of seeming indifference. Death had long familiarized +itself to their minds in a thousand shapes. +Day by day they had seen the vacant places +left by those led out to die, and if their sorrows +had not rendered them careless of life, the world +itself had grown distasteful to them. In some +cases a spirit of proud scorn was manifested to +the very last; and, strange inconsistency of +human nature! the very men whose licentiousness +and frivolity first evoked the terrible storm +of popular fury, were the first to display the +most chivalrous courage in the terrible face of +the guillotine. Beautiful women, too, in all the +pride of their loveliness, met the inhuman stare +of that mob undismayed. Nor were these traits +without their fruits. This noble spirit—this +triumphant victory of the well-born and the great—was +a continual insult to the populace, who +saw themselves defrauded of half their promised +vengeance, and they learned that they might +kill, but they could never humiliate them. In +vain they dipped their hands in the red life-blood, +and, holding up their dripping fingers, +asked, "How did it differ from that of the +canaille?" Their hearts gave the lie to the +taunt for they witnessed instances of heroism +from gray hairs and tender womanhood, that +would have shamed the proudest deeds of their +new-born chivalry!</p> + +<p>"Charles Gregoire Courcelles!" shouted out +a deep voice from the scaffold.</p> + +<p>"That is my name," said a venerable-looking +old gentleman, as he arose from his seat, +adding, with a placid smile, "but, for half a +century my friends have called me the Duc de +Riancourt."</p> + +<p>"We have no dukes nor marquises; we +know of no titles in France," replied the functionary. +"All men are equal before the law."</p> + +<p>"If it were so, my friend, you and I might +change places; for you were my steward, and +plundered my chateau."</p> + +<p>"Down with the royalist—away with the +aristocrat!" shouted a number of voices from +the crowd.</p> + +<p>"Be a little patient, good people," said the +old man, as he ascended the steps with some +difficulty; "I was wounded in Canada, and +have never yet recovered. I shall probably be +better a few minutes hence."</p> + +<p>There was something of half simplicity in the +careless way the words were uttered that hushed +the multitude, and already some expressions +of sympathy were heard; but as quickly the +ribald insults of the hired ruffians of the Convention +drowned these sounds, and "Down with +the royalist" resounded on every side, while +two officials assisted him to remove his stock +and bare his throat. The commissary, advancing +to the edge of the platform, and, as it were, +addressing the people, read in a hurried, slurring +kind of voice, something that purported to +be the ground of the condemnation. But of this +not a word could be heard. None cared to +hear the ten-thousand-time told tale of suspected +royalism, nor would listen to the high-sounding +declamation that proclaimed the virtuous zeal +of the government—their untiring energy—their +glorious persistence in the cause of the people. +The last words were, as usual, responded to +with an echoing shout, and the cry of "Vive la +Republique" rose from the great multitude.</p> + +<p>"Vive le Roi!" cried the old man, with a +voice heard high above the clamor; but the +words were scarce out when the lips that muttered +them were closed in death; so sudden was +the act, that a cry burst forth from the mob, +but whether in reprobation or in ecstasy I knew +not.</p> + +<p>I will not follow the sad catalogue, wherein +nobles and peasants, priests, soldiers, actors, +men of obscure fortune, and women of lofty +station succeeded each other, occupying for a +brief minute every eye, and passing away for +ever. Many ascended the platform without a +word; some waved a farewell toward a distant +quarter, where they suspected a friend to be—others +spent their last moments in prayer, and +died in the very act of supplication. All bore +themselves with a noble and proud courage; +and now some five or six alone remained, of +whose fate none seemed to guess the issue,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span> +since they had been taken from the Temple by +some mistake, and were not included in the list +of the commissary. There they sat, at the foot +of the scaffold, speechless and stupefied—they +looked as though it were matter of indifference +to which side their steps should turn—to the jail +or the guillotine. Among these was the marquise, +who alone preserved her proud self-possession, +and sat in all her accustomed dignity; +while close beside her an angry controversy +was maintained as to their future destiny—the +commissary firmly refusing to receive them for +execution, and the delegate of the Temple, as +he was styled, as flatly asserting that he would +not re-conduct them to prison. The populace +soon grew interested in the dispute, and the +most violent altercations arose among the partisans +of each side of the question.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, the commissary and his assistants +prepared to depart. Already the massive drapery +of red cloth was drawn over the guillotine, +and every preparation made for withdrawing, +when the mob, doubtless dissatisfied that they +should be defrauded of any portion of the entertainment, +began to climb over the wooden barricades, +and, with furious cries and shouts, +threatened vengeance upon any who would +screen the enemies of the people.</p> + +<p>The troops resisted the movement, but rather +with the air of men entreating calmness, than +with the spirit of soldiery. It was plain to see +on which side the true force lay.</p> + +<p>"If you will not do it, the people will do +it for you," whispered the delegate to the +commissary; "and who is to say where they +will stop when their hands once learn the +trick!"</p> + +<p>The commissary grew lividly pale, and made +no reply.</p> + +<p>"See there!" rejoined the other; "they are +carrying a fellow on their shoulders yonder; +they mean him to be executioner."</p> + +<p>"But I dare not—I can not—without my +orders."</p> + +<p>"Are not the people sovereign?—whose +will have we sworn to obey, but theirs?"</p> + +<p>"My own head would be the penalty if I +yielded."</p> + +<p>"It will be, if you resist—even now it is too +late."</p> + +<p>And as he spoke he sprang from the scaffold, +and disappeared in the dense crowd that already +thronged the space within the rails.</p> + +<p>By this time, the populace were not only +masters of the area around, but had also gained +the scaffold itself, from which many of them +seemed endeavoring to harangue the mob; +others contenting themselves with imitating the +gestures of the commissary and his functionaries. +It was a scene of the wildest uproar +and confusion—frantic cries and screams, ribald +songs and fiendish yellings on every side. The +guillotine was again uncovered, and the great +crimson drapery, torn into fragments, was waved +about like flags, or twisted into uncouth head-dresses. +The commissary failing in every attempt +to restore order peaceably, and either not +possessing a sufficient force, or distrusting the +temper of the soldiers, descended from the scaffold, +and gave the order to march. This act of +submission was hailed by the mob with the most +furious yell of triumph. Up to that very moment, +they had never credited the bare possibility +of a victory; and now they saw themselves +suddenly masters of the field—the troops, +in all the array of horse and foot, retiring in +discomfiture. Their exultation knew no bounds; +and, doubtless, had there been among them +those with skill and daring to profit by the enthusiasm, +the torrent had rushed a longer and +more terrific course than through the blood-steeped +clay of the Place de la Grève.</p> + +<p>"Here is the man we want," shouted a deep +voice. "St. Just told us, t'other day, that the +occasion never failed to produce one; and see, +here is 'Jean Gougon;' and though he's but +two feet high, his fingers can reach the pin of +the guillotine."</p> + +<p>And he held aloft on his shoulders a misshapen +dwarf, who was well known on the Pont Neuf, +where he gained his living by singing infamous +songs, and performing mockeries of the service +of the mass. A cheer of welcome acknowledged +this speech, to which the dwarf responded +by a mock benediction, which he bestowed +with all the ceremonious observance of an archbishop. +Shouts of the wildest laughter followed +this ribaldry, and in a kind of triumph they carried +him up the steps, and deposited him on the +scaffold.</p> + +<p>Ascending one of the chairs, the little wretch +proceeded to address the mob, which he did +with all the ease and composure of a practiced +public speaker. Not a murmur was heard in +that tumultuous assemblage, as he, with a most +admirable imitation of Hebert, then the popular +idol, assured them that France was, at that instant, +the envy of surrounding nations; and +that, bating certain little weaknesses on the +score of humanity—certain traits of softness +and over-mercy—her citizens realized all that +ever had been said of angels. From thence he +passed on to a mimicry of Marat, of Danton, +and of Robespierre—tearing off his cravat, baring +his breast, and performing all the oft-exhibited +antics of the latter, as he vociferated, in a +wild scream, the well-known peroration of a +speech he had lately made—"If we look to +a glorious morrow of freedom, the sun of our +slavery must set in blood!"</p> + +<p>However amused by the dwarf's exhibition, +a feeling of impatience began to manifest itself +among the mob, who felt that, by any longer +delay, it was possible time would be given for +fresh troops to arrive, and the glorious opportunity +of popular sovereignty be lost in the very +hour of victory.</p> + +<p>"To work—to work, Master Gougon!" +shouted hundreds of rude voices; "we can not +spend our day in listening to oratory."</p> + +<p>"You forget, my dear friends," said he +blandly, "that this is to me a new walk in life<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span> +I have much to learn, ere I can acquit myself +worthily to the republic."</p> + +<p>"We have no leisure for preparatory studies, +Gougon," cried a fellow below the scaffold.</p> + +<p>"Let me, then, just begin with monsieur," +said the dwarf, pointing to the last speaker; +and a shout of laughter closed the sentence.</p> + +<p>A brief and angry dispute now arose as to +what was to be done, and it is more than doubtful +how the debate might have ended, when +Gougon, with a readiness all his own, concluded +the discussion by saying,</p> + +<p>"I have it, messieurs, I have it. There is a +lady here, who, however respectable her family +and connections, will leave few to mourn her +loss. She is, in a manner, public property, and +if not born on the soil, at least a naturalized +Frenchwoman. We have done a great deal +for her, and in her name, for some time back, +and I am not aware of any singular benefit she +has rendered us. With your permission, then, +I'll begin with <i>her</i>."</p> + +<p>"Name, name—name her," was cried by +thousands.</p> + +<p>"<i>La voila</i>," said he, archly, as he pointed +with his thumb to the wooden effigy of Liberty +above his head.</p> + +<p>The absurdity of the suggestion was more +than enough for its success. A dozen hands +were speedily at work, and down came the +Goddess of Liberty! The other details of an +execution were hurried over with all the speed +of practiced address, and the figure was placed +beneath the drop. Down fell the ax, and Gougon, +lifting up the wooden head, paraded it +about the scaffold, crying,</p> + +<p>"Behold! an enemy of France. Long live +the republic, one and 'indivisible.'"</p> + +<p>Loud and wild were the shouts of laughter +from this brutal mockery; and for a time it +almost seemed as if the ribaldry had turned the +mob from the sterner passions of their vengeance. +This hope, if one there ever cherished +it, was short-lived; and again the cry arose for +blood. It was too plain, that no momentary +diversion, no passing distraction, could withdraw +them from that lust for cruelty, that had +now grown into a passion.</p> + +<p>And now a bustle and movement of those +around the stairs showed that something was in +preparation; and in the next moment the old +marquise was led forward between two men.</p> + +<p>"Where is the order for this woman's execution?" +asked the dwarf, mimicking the style +and air of the commissary.</p> + +<p>"We give it: it is from us," shouted the +mob, with one savage roar.</p> + +<p>Gougon removed his cap, and bowed a token +of obedience.</p> + +<p>"Let us proceed in order, messieurs," said +he, gravely; "I see no priest here."</p> + +<p>"Shrive her yourself, Gougon; few know +the mummeries better!" cried a voice.</p> + +<p>"Is there not one here can remember a prayer, +or even a verse of the offices," said Gougon, with +a well-affected horror in his voice.</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes, I do," cried I, my zeal overcoming +all sense of the mockery in which the words +were spoken; "I know them all by heart, and +can repeat them from 'lux beatissima' down to +'hora mortis;'" and as if to gain credence for +my self-laudation, I began at once to recite in +the sing-song tone of the seminary,</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Salve, mater salvatoris,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fons salutis, vas honoris:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Scala cœli porta et via<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Salve semper, O, Maria!"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>It is possible I should have gone on to the very +end, if the uproarious laughter which rung +around had not stopped me.</p> + +<p>"There's a brave youth!" cried Gougon, +pointing toward me, with mock admiration. +"If it ever come to pass—as what may not in +these strange times?—that we turn to priest-craft +again, thou shalt be the first archbishop +of Paris. Who taught thee that famous canticle?"</p> + +<p>"The Père Michel," replied I, in no way +conscious of the ridicule bestowed upon me; +"the Père Michel of St. Blois."</p> + +<p>The old lady lifted up her head at these +words, and her dark eyes rested steadily upon +me; and then, with a sign of her hand, she +motioned to me to come over to her.</p> + +<p>"Yes; let him come," said Gougon, as if +answering the half-reluctant glances of the +crowd. And now I was assisted to descend, +and passed along over the heads of the people +till I was placed upon the scaffold. Never can +I forget the terror of that moment, as I stood +within a few feet of the terrible guillotine, and +saw beside me the horrid basket, splashed with +recent blood.</p> + +<p>"Look not at these things, child," said the +old lady, as she took my hand and drew me +toward her, "but listen to me, and mark my +words well."</p> + +<p>"I will, I will," cried I, as the hot tears +rolled down my cheeks.</p> + +<p>"Tell the Père—you will see him to-night—tell +him that I have changed my mind, and resolved +upon another course, and that he is not +to leave Paris. Let them remain. The torrent +runs too rapidly to last. This can not +endure much longer. We shall be among the +last victims! You hear me, child?"</p> + +<p>"I do, I do," cried I, sobbing. "Why is +not the Père Michel with you now?"</p> + +<p>"Because he is suing for my pardon; asking +for mercy, where its very name is a derision. +Kneel down beside me, and repeat the 'angelus.'"</p> + +<p>I took off my cap, and knelt down at her feet, +reciting, in a voice broken by emotion, the words +of the prayer. She repeated each syllable +after me, in a tone full and unshaken, and then +stooping, she took up the lily which lay in +my cap. She pressed it passionately to her +lips; two or three times passionately. "Give +it to her; tell her I kissed it at my last moment. +Tell her—"</p> + +<p>"This 'shrift' is beyond endurance. Away,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span> +holy father," cried Gougon, as he pushed me +rudely back, and seized the marquise by the +wrist. A faint cry escaped her. I heard no +more; for, jostled and pushed about by the +crowd, I was driven to the very rails of the +scaffold. Stepping beneath these, I mingled +with the mob beneath; and burning with eagerness +to escape a scene, to have witnessed which +would almost have made my heart break, I +forced my way into the dense mass, and, by +squeezing and creeping, succeeded at last in +penetrating to the verge of the Place. A terrible +shout, and a rocking motion of the mob, +like the heavy surging of the sea, told me that +all was over; but I never looked back to the +fatal spot, but having gained the open streets, +ran at the top of my speed toward home.</p> + +<h4>(<i>To be continued.</i>)</h4> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3>[From Bender's Monthly Miscellany.]</h3> + +<h2>WOMEN IN THE EAST.</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">by an oriental traveler</span>.</h3> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Within the gay kiosk reclined,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Above the scent of lemon groves,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where bubbling fountains kiss the wind,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And birds make music to their loves,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She lives a kind of faery life,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In sisterhood of fruits and flowers,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unconscious of the outer strife<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That wears the palpitating hours.<br /></span> +<span class="i8"><i>The Hareem.</i> R.M. <span class="smcap">Milnes</span>.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>There is a gentle, calm repose breathing +through the whole of this poem, which +comes soothingly to the imagination wearied +with the strife and hollowness of modern civilization. +Woman in it is the inferior being; +but it is the inferiority of the beautiful flower, +or of the fairy birds of gorgeous plumage, who +wing their flight amid the gardens and bubbling +streams of the Eastern palace. Life is represented +for the Eastern women as a long dream +of affection; the only emotions she is to know +are those of ardent love and tender maternity. +She is not represented as the companion to man +in his life battle, as the sharer of his triumph +and his defeats: the storms of life are hushed +at the entrance of the hareem; <i>there</i> the lord +and master deposits the frown of unlimited +power, or the cringing reverence of the slave, +and appears as the watchful guardian of the +loved one's happiness. Such a picture is poetical, +and would lead one to say, alas for human +progress, if the Eastern female slave is thus on +earth to pass one long golden summer—her +heart only tied by those feelings which keep it +young—while her Christian sister has these +emotions but as sun-gleams to lighten and +make dark by contrast, the frequent gloom of +her winter life.</p> + +<p>But although the conception is poetical, to +one who has lived many years in the East, it +appears a conception, not a description of the +real hareem life, even among the noble and +wealthy of those lands. The following anecdote +may be given us the other side of the +picture. The writer was a witness of the +scene, and he offers it as a consolation to those +of his fair sisters, who, in the midst of the +troubles of common-place life, might be disposed +to compare their lot with that of the inmate +of the mysterious and happy home drawn +by the poet.</p> + +<p>It was in a large and fruitful district of the +south of India that I passed a few years of my +life. In this district lived, immured in his fort, +one of the native rajahs, who, with questionable +justice, have gradually been shorn of their regal +state and authority, to become pensioners of the +East India Company. The inevitable consequence +of such an existence, the forced life of +inactivity with the traditions of the bold exploits +of his royal ancestors, brilliant Mahratta +chieftains, may be imagined. The rajah sunk +into a state of slothful dissipation, varied by the +occasional intemperate exercise of the power +left him within the limits of the fortress, his +residence. This fort is not the place which +the word would suggest to the reader, but was +rather a small native town surrounded by fortifications. +This town was peopled by the descendants +of the Mahrattas, and by the artisans +and dependents of the rajah and his court. +Twice a year the English resident and his assistants +were accustomed to pay visits of ceremony +to the rajah, and had to encounter the +fatiguing sights of dancing-girls, beast-fights, +and <i>music</i>, if the extraordinary assemblage of +sounds, which in the East assume the place of +harmony, can be so called.</p> + +<p>We had just returned from one of these visits, +and were grumbling over our headaches, the +dust, and the heat, when, to our surprise, the +rajah's vabul or confidential representative was +announced. As it was nine o'clock in the +evening this somewhat surprised us. He was, +however, admitted, and after a short, hurried +obeisance, he announced "that he must die! +that there had been a sudden revolt of the +hareem, and that when the rajah knew it, he +would listen to no explanations, but be sure to +imprison and ruin all round him; and that foremost +in the general destruction would be himself, +Veneat-Rao, who had always been the +child of the English Sahibs, who were his +fathers—that they were wise above all natives, +and that he had come to them for help!" All +this was pronounced with indescribable volubility, +and the appearance of the speaker announced +the most abject fear. He was a little +wizened Brahmin, with the thin blue lines of +his caste carefully painted on his wrinkled forehead. +His dark black eyes gleamed with suppressed +impotent rage, and in his agitation he +had lost all that staid, placid decorum which +we had been accustomed to observe in him +when transacting business. When urged to +explain the domestic disaster which had befallen +his master, he exclaimed with ludicrous pathos, +"By Rama! women are devils; by them all +misfortunes come upon men! But, sahibs,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span> +hasten with me; they have broken through the +guard kept on the hareem door by two old sentries; +they ran through the fort and besieged +my house; they are now there, and refuse to +go back to the hareem. The rajah returns to-morrow +from his hunting—what can I say? I +must die! my children, who will care for them? +what crime did my father commit that I should +thus be disgraced?"</p> + +<p>Yielding to these entreaties, and amused at +the prospect of a novel scene, we mounted our +horses and cantered to the fort. The lights +were burning brightly in the bazaars as we +rode through them, and except a few groups +gathered to discuss the price of rice and the +want of rain, we perceived no agitation till we +reached the Vakeel's house. Arrived here we +dismounted, and on entering the square court-yard +a scene of indescribable confusion presented +itself. The first impression it produced on me +was that of entering a large aviary in which the +birds, stricken with terror, fly madly to and fro +against the bars. Such was the first effect of +our entrance. Women and girls of all ages, +grouped about the court, in most picturesque +attitudes, started up and fled to its extreme end; +only a few of the more matronly ladies stood +their ground, and with terribly screeching voices, +declaimed against some one or something, but +for a long time we could, in this Babel of +female tongues, distinguish nothing. At last +we managed to distinguish the rajah's name, +coupled with epithets most disrespectful to royalty. +This, and that they, the women, begged +instantly to be put to death, was all that the +clamor would permit us to understand. We +looked appealingly at Veneat Rao, who stood +by, wringing his hands. However, he made a +vigorous effort, and raising his shrill voice, told +them that the sahibs had come purposely to +listen to, and redress their grievances, and that +they would hold durbar (audience) then and +there.</p> + +<p>This announcement produced a lull, and enabled +us to look round us at the strange scene. +Scattered in various parts of the court were +these poor prisoners, who now for the first time +for many years tasted liberty. Scattered about +were some hideous old women, partly guardians +of the younger, partly remains, we were told, +of the rajah's father's seraglio. Young children +moved among them looking very much +frightened. But the group which attracted our +attention and admiration consisted of about +twenty really beautiful girls, from fourteen to +eighteen years of age, of every country and +caste, in the various costume and ornament of +their races; these were clustering round a fair +and very graceful Mahratta girl, whose tall +figure was seen to great advantage in the blaze +of torchlight. Her muslin vail had half fallen +from her face, allowing us to see her large, +soft, dark eyes, from which the tears were fast +falling, as in a low voice she addressed her +fellow-sufferers. There was on her face a peculiar +expression of patient endurance of ill, +inexpressibly touching. This is not an unfrequent +character in the beauty of Asiatic women; +the natural result of habits of fear, and the entire +submission to the will of others.</p> + +<p>Her features were classically regular, with +the short rounded chin, the long graceful neck, +and that easy port of head so seldom seen except +in the women of the East. Her arms +were covered with rich bracelets, and were of +the most perfect form; her hands long and +tapering, the palms and nails dyed with the +"henna." No barbarously-civilized restraint +rendered her waist a contradiction of natural +beauty; a small, dark satin bodice, richly embroidered, +covered a bosom which had hardly +attained womanly perfection; a zone of gold +held together the full muslin folds of the lower +portion of her dress, below which the white +satin trowsers reached, without concealing a +faultless ankle and foot, uncovered, except by +the heavy anklet and rings which tinkled at +every step she took. After the disturbance +that our entrance had caused, had in a measure +subsided, the children, who were richly dressed +and loaded with every kind of fantastic ornament, +came sidling timidly round us, peering +curiously with their large black eyes, at the +unusual sight of white men.</p> + +<p>Considerably embarrassed at the very new +arbitration which we were about to undertake, +B. and I consulted for a little while, after which, +gravely taking our seats, and Veneat Rao having +begged them to listen with respectful attention, +I, at B.'s desire, proceeded to address +them, telling them,</p> + +<p>"That we supposed some grave cause must +have arisen for them to desert the palace of the +rajah, their protector, during his absence, and +by violently overpowering the guard, incur his +serious anger (here my eye caught a sight of the +said guard, consisting of two blear-eyed, shriveled +old men, and I nearly lost all solemnity of +demeanor) that if they complained of injustice, +we supposed that it must have been committed +without his highness's knowledge, but that if +they would quietly return to the hareem we +would endeavor to represent to their master +their case, and entreat him to redress their +grievance."</p> + +<p>I spoke this in Hindusthani, which, as the +<i>lingua franca</i> of the greater part of India, I +thought was most likely to be understood by +the majority of my female audience. I succeeded +perfectly in making myself understood, +but was not quite so successful in convincing +them that it was better that they should return +to the rajah's palace. After rather a stormy +discussion, the Mahratta girl, whom we had so +much admired on our entrance, stepped forward, +and, bowing lowly before us, and crossing her +arms, in a very sweet tone of voice proceeded +to tell her story, which, she said, was very +much the history of them all. The simple, +and at times picturesque expressions lose much +by translation.</p> + +<p>"Sir, much shame comes over me, that I, a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span> +woman, should speak before men who are not +our fathers, husbands, nor brothers, who are +strangers, of another country and religion; but +they tell us that you English sahibs love truth +and justice, and protect the poor.</p> + +<p>"I was born of Gentoo parents—rich, for +I can remember the bright, beautiful jewels +which, as a child, I wore on my head, arms, +and feet, the large house and gardens where +I played, and the numerous servants who attended +me.</p> + +<p>"When I had reached my eighth or ninth +year I heard them talk of my betrothal,<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> and +of the journey which we were, previous to the +ceremony, to take to some shrine in a distant +country. My father, who was advancing in +years, and in bad health, being anxious to bathe +in the holy waters, which should give him prolonged +life and health.</p> + +<p>"The journey had lasted for many days, and +one evening after we had halted for the day I +accompanied my mother when she went to bathe +in a tank near to our encampment. As I played +along the bank and picked a few wild flowers +that grew under the trees I observed an old +woman advancing toward me. She spoke to +me in a kind voice, asked me my name? who +were my parents? where we were going? and +when I had answered her these questions she +told me that if I would accompany her a little +way she would give me some prettier flowers +than those I was gathering, and that her servant +should take me back to my people.</p> + +<p>"I had no sooner gone far enough to be out +of sight and hearing of my mother than the old +woman threw a cloth over my head, and taking +me up in her arms, hurried on for a short distance. +There I could distinguish men's voices, +and was sensible of being placed in a carriage, +which was driven off at a rapid pace. No +answer was returned to my cries and entreaties +to be restored to my parents, and at sunrise I +found myself near hills which I had never before +seen, and among a people whose language +was new to me.</p> + +<p>"I remained with these people, who were +not unkind to me, three or four years; and I +found out that the old woman who had carried +me off from my parents, was an emissary sent +from the rajah's hareem to kidnap, when they +could not be purchased, young female children +whose looks promised that they would grow up +with the beauty necessary for the gratification +of the prince's passions.</p> + +<p>"Sahibs! I have been two years an inmate +of the rajah's hareem—would to God I had died +a child in my own country with those I loved, +than that I should have been exposed to the +miseries we suffer. The splendor which surrounds +us is only a mockery. The rajah, +wearied and worn out by a life of debauchery, +takes no longer any pleasure in our society, +and is only roused from his lethargy to inflict +disgrace and cruelties upon us. We, who are +of Brahmin caste, for his amusement, are forced +to learn the work of men—are made to carry +in the gardens of the hareem a palanquin, to +work as goldsmiths—and, may our gods pardon +us, to mingle with the dancing-girls of the bazaar. +His attendants deprive us even of our +food, and we sit in the beautiful palace loaded +with jewels, and suffer from the hunger not +felt even by the poor Pariah.</p> + +<p>"Sahibs! you who have in your country +mothers and sisters, save us from this cruel +fate, and cause us to be restored to our parents; +do not send us back to such degradation, but +rather let us die by your orders."</p> + +<p>As with a voice tremulous with emotion, she +said these words, she threw herself at our feet, +and burst into an agony of weeping.</p> + +<p>Deeply moved by the simple expression of +such undeserved misfortune, we soothed her as +well as we were able, and promising her and +her companions to make every effort with the +rajah for their deliverance, we persuaded Rosambhi, +the Mahratta girl (their eloquent pleader), +to induce them to return for the night to +the palace. Upon a repetition of our promise +they consented, to the infinite relief of Veneat +Rao, who alternately showered blessings on us, +and curses on all womankind, as he accompanied +us back to the Residency.</p> + +<p>And now we had to set about the deliverance +of these poor women. This was a work +of considerable difficulty.</p> + +<p>It was a delicate matter interfering with +the rajah's domestic concerns, and we could +only commission Veneat Rao to communicate +to his highness the manner in which we had +become implicated with so unusual an occurrence +as a revolt of his seraglio; we told him +to express to his highness our conviction that +his generosity had been deceived by his subordinates. +In this we only imitated the profound +maxim of European diplomacy, and concealed +our real ideas by our expressions. This to the +rajah. On his confidential servant we enforced +the disapprobation the resident felt at the system +of kidnapping, of which his highness was +the instigator, and hinted at that which these +princes most dread—an investigation.</p> + +<p>This succeeded beyond our expectation, and +the next morning a message was sent from the +palace, intimating that the charges were so +completely unfounded, that the rajah was prepared +to offer to his revolted women, the choice +of remaining in the hareem, or being sent back +to their homes.</p> + +<p>Again they were assembled in Veneat Rao's +house, but this time in much more orderly +fashion, for their vails were down, and except +occasionally when a coquettish movement showed +a portion of some face, we were unrewarded +by any of the bright eyes we had admired on +the previous visit. The question was put to +them one by one, and all with the exception of +a few old women, expressed an eager wish not +to re-enter the hareem.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span></p> + +<p>After much troublesome inquiry, we discovered +their parents, and were rewarded by +their happy and grateful faces, as we sent them +off under escort to their homes. It was painful +to reflect what their fate would be; they left +us rejoicing at what they thought would be a +happy change, but we well knew that no one +would marry them, knowing that they had +been in the rajah's hareem, and that they would +either lead a life of neglect, or sink into vice, +of which the liberty would be the only change +from that, which by our means they had escaped.</p> + +<p>In the inquiries we made into the circumstances +of this curious case, we found that their +statements were true.</p> + +<p>Large sums were paid by the rajah to his +creatures, who traveled to distant parts of the +country, and wherever they could meet with +parents poor enough, bought their female children +from them, or when they met with remarkable +beauty such as Rosambhi's, did not +hesitate to carry the child off, and by making +rapid marches, elude any vigilance of pursuit +on the part of the parents.</p> + +<p>The cruelties and degradations suffered by +these poor girls are hardly to be described. +We well know how degraded, even in civilized +countries the pursuit of sensual pleasures renders +men, to whom education and the respect they +pay the opinion of society, are checks; let us +imagine the conduct of the eastern prince, safe +in the retirement of his court, surrounded by +those dependents to whom the gratification of +their master's worst passions was the sure road +to favor and fortune.</p> + +<p>Besides the sufferings they had to endure +from him, the women of the hareem were exposed +to the rapacities of those who had charge +of them, and Rosambhi did not exaggerate, +when she described herself and her companions +as suffering the pangs of want amid the splendors +of a palace.</p> + +<p>This is the reverse of the pleasing picture +drawn by the poet of the Eastern woman's existence—but, +though less pleasing, it is true—nor +need we describe her in the lower ranks of +life in those countries, where, her beauty faded, +she has to pass a wearisome existence, the +servant of a rival, whose youthful charms have +supplanted her in her master's affections. The +calm happiness of advancing age is seldom hers—she +is the toy while young—the slave, or the +neglected servant, at best, when, her only merit +in the eyes of her master, physical beauty, is +gone.</p> + +<p>Let her sister in the western world, in the +midst of her joys, think with pity on these sufferings, +and when sorrow's cloud seems darkest, +let her not repine, but learn resignation to her +lot, as she compares it with the condition of the +women of the East; let her be grateful that +she lives in an age and land where woman is +regarded as the helpmate and consolation of +man, by whom her love is justly deemed the +prize of his life.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3>[From The Ladies' Companion.]</h3> + +<h2>LETTICE ARNOLD.</h2> + +<h3>By the Author of "<span class="smcap">Two Old Men's Tales," "Emilia Wyndham</span>," &c.</h3> + + +<h3>CHAPTER I.</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"It is the generous spirit, who when brought<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unto the task of common life, hath wrought<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Even upon the plan which pleased the childish thought<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><span style="letter-spacing:3em;">······</span><br /><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who doomed to go in company with pain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And fear, and ruin—miserable train!—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Makes that necessity a glorious gain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By actions that would force the soul to abate<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her feeling, rendered more compassionate.<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><span style="letter-spacing:3em;">······</span><br /><br /></span> +<span class="i0">More gifted with self-knowledge—even more pure<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As tempted more—more able to endure,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As more exposed to suffering and distress;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thence, also, more alive to tenderness."<br /></span> +<span class="i8"><span class="smcap">Wordsworth</span>. <i>Happy Warrior.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"No, dearest mother, no! I can not. What! +after all the tenderness, care, and love I +have received from you, for now one-and-twenty +years, to leave you and my father, in your old +age, to yourselves! Oh, no! Oh, no!"</p> + +<p>"Nay, my child," said the pale, delicate, +nervous woman, thus addressed by a blooming +girl whose face beamed with every promise for +future happiness, which health and cheerfulness, +and eyes filled with warm affections could give, +"Nay, my child, don't talk so. You must not +talk so. It is not to be thought of." And, as +she said these words with effort, her poor heart +was dying within her, not only from sorrow at +the thought of the parting from her darling, but +with all sorts of dreary, undefined terrors at the +idea of the forlorn, deserted life before her. +Abandoned to herself and to servants, so fearful, +so weak as she was, and with the poor, invalided, +and crippled veteran, her husband, a martyr +to that long train of sufferings which honorable +wounds, received in the service of country, too +often leave behind them, a man at all times so +difficult to sooth, so impossible to entertain—and +old age creeping upon them both; the little +strength she ever had, diminishing; the little +spirit she ever possessed, failing; what should +she do without this dear, animated, this loving, +clever being, who was, in one word, every thing +to her?</p> + +<p>But she held to her resolution—no martyr +ever more courageously than this trembling, +timid woman. A prey to ten thousand imaginary +fears, and, let alone the imaginary terrors, +placed in a position where the help she was +now depriving herself of was really so greatly +needed.</p> + +<p>"No, my dear," she repeated, "don't think +of it; don't speak of it. You distress me very +much. Pray don't, my dearest Catherine."</p> + +<p>"But I should be a shocking creature, mamma, +to forsake you; and, I am sure, Edgar would +despise me as much as I should myself, if I +could think of it. I can not—I ought not to +leave you."</p> + +<p>The gentle blue eye of the mother was fixed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span> +upon the daughter's generous, glowing face. +She smothered a sigh. She waited a while to +steady her faltering voice. She wished to hide, +if possible, from her daughter the extent of the +sacrifice she was making.</p> + +<p>At last she recovered herself sufficiently to +speak with composure, and then she said:</p> + +<p>"To accept such a sacrifice from a child, I +have always thought the most monstrous piece +of selfishness of which a parent could be guilty. +My love, this does not come upon me unexpectedly. +I have, of course, anticipated it. I +knew my sweet girl could not be long known +and seen without inspiring and returning the +attachment of some valuable man. I have resolved—and +God strengthen me in this resolve," +she cast up a silent appeal to the fountain of +strength and courage—"that nothing should +tempt me to what I consider so base. A parent +accept the sacrifice of a life in exchange for the +poor remnant of her own! A parent, who has +had her own portion of the joys of youth in her +day, deprive a child of a share in her turn! No, +my dearest love, never—never! I would die, +and I will die first."</p> + +<p>But it was not death she feared. The idea +of death did not appall her. What she dreaded +was melancholy. She knew the unsoundness +of her own nerves; she had often felt herself, +as it were, trembling upon the fearful verge of +reason, when the mind, unable to support itself, +is forced to rest upon another. She had known +a feeling, common to many very nervous people, +I believe, as though the mind would be overset +when pressed far, if not helped, strengthened, +and cheered by some more wholesome mind; +and she shrank appalled from the prospect.</p> + +<p>But even this could not make her waver in +her resolution. She was a generous, just, disinterested +woman; though the exigencies of a +most delicate constitution, and most susceptible +nervous system, had too often thrown upon her—from +those who did not understand such things, +and whose iron nerves and vigorous health rendered +sympathy at such times impossible—the +reproach of being a tedious, whimsical, selfish +hypochondriac.</p> + +<p>Poor thing, she knew this well. It was the +difficulty of making herself understood; the +want of sympathy, the impossibility of rendering +needs, most urgent in her case, comprehensible +by her friends, which had added so +greatly to the timorous cowardice, the fear of +circumstances, of changes, which had been the +bane of her existence.</p> + +<p>And, therefore, this kind, animated, affectionate +daughter, whose tenderness seemed never +to weary in the task of cheering her; whose +activity was never exhausted in the endeavor to +assist and serve her; whose good sense and +spirit kept every thing right at home, and more +especially kept those terrible things, the servants, +in order—of whom the poor mother, like +many other feeble and languid people, was so +foolishly afraid; therefore, this kind daughter +was as the very spring of her existence; and +the idea of parting with her was really dreadful. +Yet she hesitated not. So did that man behave, +who stood firm upon the rampart till he had +finished his observation, though his hair turned +white with fear. Mrs. Melwyn was an heroic +coward of this kind.</p> + +<p>She had prayed ardently, fervently, that day, +for courage, for resolution, to complete the +dreaded sacrifice, and she had found it.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Lord! I am thy servant. Do with me +what thou wilt. Trembling in spirit, the victim +of my infirmity—a poor, selfish, cowardly being, +I fall down before Thee. Thou hast showed +me what is right—the sacrifice I ought to make. +Oh, give me strength in my weakness to <i>be</i> +faithful to complete it!"</p> + +<p>Thus had she prayed. And now resolved in +heart, the poor sinking spirit failing her within +but, as I said, steadying her voice with an +almost heroic constancy, she resisted her grateful +and pious child's representation: "I have +told Edgar—dear as he is to me—strong as +are the claims his generous affection gives him +over me—that I will not—I can not forsake +you."</p> + +<p>"You must not call it forsake," said the +mother, gently. "My love, the Lord of life +himself has spoken it: 'Therefore shall a man +leave his father and his mother, and shall cleave +unto his wife.'"</p> + +<p>"And so he is ready to do," cried Catherine, +eagerly. "Yes, mother, he desires nothing +better—he respects my scruples—he has offered, +dear Edgar! to abandon his profession and +come and live here, and help me to take care +of you and my father. Was not that beautiful?" +and the tears stood in her speaking eyes.</p> + +<p>"Beautiful! generous! devoted! My Catherine +will be a happy woman;" and the mother +smiled. A ray of genuine pleasure warmed her +beating heart. This respect in the gay, handsome +young officer for the filial scruples of her +he loved was indeed beautiful! But the mother +knew his spirit too well to listen to this proposal +for a moment.</p> + +<p>"And abandon his profession? No, my sweet +child, that would never, never do."</p> + +<p>"But he says he is independent of his profession—that +his private fortune, though not large, +is enough for such simple, moderate people as +he and I are. In short, that he shall be miserable +without me, and all that charming stuff, +mamma; and that he loves me better, for what +he calls, dear fellow, my piety to you. And +so, dear mother, he says if you and my father +will but consent to take him in, he will do his +very best in helping me to make you comfortable; +and he is so sweet-tempered, so reasonable, +so good, so amiable, I am quite sure he +would keep his promise, mamma." And she +looked anxiously into her mother's face waiting +for an answer. The temptation was very, very +strong.</p> + +<p>Again those domestic spectres which had so +appalled her poor timorous spirit rose before +her. A desolate, dull fireside—her own tendency<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span> +to melancholy—her poor maimed suffering, +and, alas, too often peevish partner—encroaching, +unmanageable servants. The cook, +with her careless, saucy ways—the butler so +indifferent and negligent—and her own maid, +that Randall, who in secret tyrannized over her, +exercising the empire of fear to an extent which +Catherine, alive as she was to these evils, did +not suspect. And again she asked herself, if +these things were disagreeable now, when Catherine +was here to take care of her, what would +they be when she was left alone?</p> + +<p>And then such a sweet picture of happiness +presented itself to tempt her—Catherine settled +there—settled there forever. That handsome, +lively young man, with his sweet, cordial ways +and polite observance of every one, sitting by +their hearth, and talking, as he did, to the general +of old days and military matters, the only +subject in which this aged military man took +any interest, reading the newspaper to him, and +making such lively, pleasant comments as he +read! How should <i>she</i> ever get through the +debates, with her breath so short, and her voice +so indistinct and low? The general would lose +all patience—he hated to hear her attempt to +read such things, and always got Catherine or +the young lieutenant-colonel to do it.</p> + +<p>Oh! it was a sore temptation. But this +poor, dear, good creature resisted it.</p> + +<p>"My love," she said, after a little pause, +daring which this noble victory was achieved—laugh +if you will at the expression, but it <i>was</i> a +noble victory over self—"my love," she said, +"don't tempt your poor mother beyond her +strength. Gladly, gladly, as far as we are concerned, +would we enter into this arrangement; +but it must not be. No, Catherine; Edgar +must not quit his profession. It would not only +be a very great sacrifice I am sure now, but it +would lay the foundation of endless regrets in +future. No, my darling girl, neither his happiness +nor your happiness shall be ever sacrificed +to mine. A life against a few uncertain years! +No—no."</p> + +<p>The mother was inflexible. The more these +good children offered to give up for her sake, +the more she resolved to suffer no such sacrifice +to be made.</p> + +<p>Edgar could not but rejoice. He was an +excellent young fellow, and excessively in love +with the charming Catherine, you may be sure, +or he never would have thought of offering to +abandon a profession for her sake in which he +had distinguished himself highly—which opened +to him the fairest prospects, and of which he +was especially fond—but he was not sorry to +be excused. He had resolved upon this sacrifice, +for there is something in those who truly +love, and whose love is elevated almost to adoration +by the moral worth they have observed +in the chosen one, which revolts at the idea of +lowering the tone of that enthusiastic goodness +and self-immolation to principle which has so +enchanted them. Edgar could not do it. He +could not attempt to persuade this tender, generous +daughter, to consider her own welfare +and his, in preference to that of her parents. +He could only offer, on his own part, to make +the greatest sacrifice which could have been +demanded from him. Rather than part from +her what would he not do? Every thing was +possible but that.</p> + +<p>However, when the mother positively refused +to accept of this act of self-abnegation, I can +not say that he regretted it. No: he thought +Mrs. Melwyn quite right in what she said; and +he loved and respected both her character and +understanding very much more than he had +done before.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>That night Mrs. Melwyn was very, very low +indeed. And when she went up into her dressing-room, +and Catherine, having kissed her tenderly, +with a heart quite divided between anxiety +for her, and a sense of happiness that would +make itself felt in spite of all, had retired to her +room, the mother sat down, poor thing, in the +most comfortable arm-chair that ever was invented, +but which imparted no comfort to her; +and placing herself by a merry blazing fire, +which was reflected from all sorts of cheerful +pretty things with which the dressing-room was +adorned, her feet upon a warm, soft footstool +of Catherine's own working, her elbow resting +upon her knee, and her head upon her hand, +she, with her eyes bent mournfully upon the +fire, began crying very much. And so she sat +a long time, thinking and crying, very sorrowful, +but not in the least repenting. Meditating +upon all sorts of dismal things, filled with all +kinds of melancholy forebodings, as to how it +would, and must be, when Catherine was really +gone, she sank at last into a sorrowful reverie, +and sate quite absorbed in her own thoughts, +till she—who was extremely punctual in her +hour of going to bed—for reasons best known +to herself, though never confided to any human +being, namely, that her maid disliked very much +sitting up for her—started as the clock in the +hall sounded eleven and two quarters, and almost +with the trepidation of a chidden child, +rose and rang the bell. Nobody came. This +made her still more uneasy. It was Randall's +custom not to answer her mistress's bell the +first time, when she was cross. And poor Mrs. +Melwyn dreaded few things in this world more +than cross looks in those about her, especially +in Randall; and that Randall knew perfectly +well.</p> + +<p>"She must be fallen asleep in her chair, poor +thing. It was very thoughtless of me," Mrs. +Melwyn did not say, but would have said, if +people ever did speak to themselves aloud.</p> + +<p>Even in this sort of mute soliloquy she did +not venture to say, "Randall will be very ill-tempered +and unreasonable." She rang again; +and then, after a proper time yielded to the +claims of offended dignity, it pleased Mrs. Randall +to appear.</p> + +<p>"I am very sorry, Randall. Really I had +no idea how late it was. I was thinking about<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span> +Miss Catherine, and I missed it when it struck +ten. I had not the least idea it was so late," +began the mistress in an apologizing tone, to +which Randall vouchsafed not an answer, but +looked like a thunder cloud—as she went banging +up and down the room, opening and shutting +drawers with a loud noise, and treading with a +rough heavy step; two things particularly annoying, +as she very well knew, to the sensitive +nerves of her mistress. But Randall settled it +with herself—that as her mistress had kept her +out of bed an hour and a half longer than usual, +for no reason at all but just to please herself, +she should find she was none the better +for it.</p> + +<p>The poor mistress bore all this with patience +for some time. She would have gone on bearing +the roughness and the noise, however disagreeable, +as long as Randall liked; but her +soft heart could not bear those glum, cross looks, +and this alarming silence.</p> + +<p>"I was thinking of Miss Catherine's marriage, +Randall. That was what made me forget +the hour. What shall I do without her?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, that's just like it," said the insolent +abigail; "nothing ever can content some people. +Most ladies would be glad to settle their +daughters so well; but some folk make a crying +matter of every thing. It would be well for +poor servants, when they're sitting over the fire, +their bones aching to death for very weariness, +if <i>they'd</i> something pleasant to think about. +They wouldn't be crying for nothing, and +keeping all the world out of their beds, like +those who care for naught but how to please +themselves."</p> + +<p>Part of this was said, part muttered, part +thought; and the poor timid mistress—one of +whose domestic occupations it seemed to be to +study the humors of her servants—heard a part +and divined the rest.</p> + +<p>"Well, Randall, I don't quite hear all you +are saying; and perhaps it is as well I do not; +but I wish you would give me my things and +make haste, for I'm really very tired, and I +want to go to bed."</p> + +<p>"People can't make more haste than they +can."</p> + +<p>And so it went on. The maid-servant never +relaxing an atom of her offended dignity—continuing +to look as ill-humored, and to do every +thing as disagreeably as she possibly could—and +her poor victim, by speaking from time to +time in an anxious, most gentle, and almost +flattering manner, hoping to mollify her dependent; +but all in vain.</p> + +<p>"I'll teach her to keep me up again for +nothing at all," thought Randall.</p> + +<p>And so the poor lady, very miserable in the +midst of all her luxuries, at last gained her bed, +and lay there not able to sleep for very discomfort. +And the abigail retired to her own warm +apartment, where she was greeted with a +pleasant fire, by which stood a little nice +chocolate simmering, to refresh her before she +went to bed—not much less miserable than her +mistress, for she was dreadfully out of humor—and +thought no hardship upon earth could equal +that she endured—forced to sit up in consequence +of another's whim when she wanted so sadly to +go to bed.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>While, thus, all that the most abundant possession +of the world's goods could bestow, was +marred by the weakness of the mistress and the +ill-temper of the maid—the plentiful gifts of +fortune rendered valueless by the erroneous +facility upon one side, and insolent love of +domination on the other; how many in the +large metropolis, only a few miles distant, and +of which the innumerable lights might be seen +brightening, like an Aurora, the southern sky; +how many laid down their heads supperless that +night! Stretched upon miserable pallets, and +ignorant where food was to be found on the +morrow to satisfy the cravings of hunger; yet, +in the midst of their misery, more miserable, +also, because they were not exempt from those +pests of existence—our own faults and infirmities.</p> + +<p>And even, as it was, how many poor creatures +<i>did</i> actually lay down their heads that night, far +less miserable than poor Mrs. Melwyn. The +tyranny of a servant is noticed by the wise man, +if I recollect right, as one of the most irritating +and insupportable of mortal miseries.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Two young women inhabited one small room +of about ten feet by eight, in the upper story of +a set of houses somewhere near Mary-le-bone +street. These houses appear to have been once +intended for rather substantial persons, but have +gradually sunk into lodging-houses for the very +poor. The premises look upon an old grave-yard; +a dreary prospect enough, but perhaps +preferable to a close street, and are filled, with +decent but very poor people. Every room appears +to serve a whole family, and few of the +rooms are much larger than the one I have described.</p> + +<p>It was now half-past twelve o'clock, and still +the miserable dip tallow candle burned in a +dilapidated tin candlestick. The wind whistled +with that peculiar wintry sound which betokens +that snow is falling; it was very, very cold; the fire +was out; and the girl who sat plying her needle +by the hearth, which was still a little warmer +than the rest of the room, had wrapped up her +feet in an old worn-out piece of flannel, and had +an old black silk wadded cloak thrown over her +to keep her from being almost perished. The +room was scantily furnished, and bore an air of +extreme poverty, amounting almost to absolute +destitution. One by one the little articles of +property possessed by its inmates had disappeared +to supply the calls of urgent want. An +old four-post bedstead, with curtains of worn-out +serge, stood in one corner; one mattress, with +two small thin pillows, and a bolster that was +almost flat; three old blankets, cotton sheets of +the coarsest description upon it: three rush-bottomed +chairs, an old claw-table, very<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span> +ancient dilapidated chest of drawers—at the top +of which were a few battered band-boxes—a +miserable bit of carpet before the fire-place; a +wooden box for coals; a little low tin fender, +a poker, or rather half a poker; a shovel and +tongs, much the worse for wear, and a very few +kitchen utensils, was all the furniture in the room. +What there was, however, was kept clean; the +floor was clean, the yellow paint was clean; +and, I forgot to say, there was a washing-tub +set aside in one corner.</p> + +<p>The wind blew shrill, and shook the window, +and the snow was heard beating against the +panes; the clock went another quarter, but still +the indefatigable toiler sewed on. Now and +then she lifted up her head, as a sigh came +from that corner of the room where the bed +stood, and some one might be heard turning +and tossing uneasily upon the mattress—then +she returned to her occupation and plied her +needle with increased assiduity.</p> + +<p>The workwoman was a girl of from eighteen +to twenty, rather below the middle size, and of +a face and form little adapted to figure in a +story. One whose life, in all probability, would +never be diversified by those romantic adventures +which <i>real</i> life in general reserves to the beautiful +and the highly-gifted. Her features were +rather homely, her hair of a light brown, <i>without</i> +golden threads through it, her hands and arms +rough and red with cold and labor; her dress +ordinary to a degree—her clothes being of the +cheapest materials—but then, these clothes were +so neat, so carefully mended where they had +given way; the hair was so smooth, and so +closely and neatly drawn round the face; and +the face itself had such a sweet expression, that +all the defects of line and color were redeemed +to the lover of expression, rather than beauty.</p> + +<p>She did not look patient, she did not look resigned; +she <i>could</i> not look cheerful exactly. +She looked earnest, composed, busy, and exceedingly +kind. She had not, it would seem, +thought enough of self in the midst of her +privations, to require the exercise of the virtues +of patience and resignation; she was so occupied +with the sufferings of others that she never +seemed to think of her own.</p> + +<p>She was naturally of the most cheerful, hopeful +temper in the world—those people without +selfishness usually are. And, though sorrow +had a little lowered the tone of her spirits to +composure, and work and disappointment had +faded the bright colors of hope; still hope was +not entirely gone, nor cheerfulness exhausted. +But, the predominant expression of every word, +and look, and tone, and gesture, was kindness—inexhaustible +kindness.</p> + +<p>I said she lifted up her head from time to +time, as a sigh proceeded from the bed, and its +suffering inhabitant tossed and tossed: and at +last she broke silence and said,</p> + +<p>"Poor Myra, can't you get to sleep?"</p> + +<p>"It is so fearfully cold," was the reply; +"and when <i>will</i> you have done, and come to +bed?"</p> + +<p>"One quarter of an hour more, and I shall +have finished it. Poor Myra, you are so nervous, +you never can get to sleep till all is shut up—but +have patience, dear, one little quarter of an +hour, and then I will throw my clothes over your +feet, and I hope you will be a little warmer."</p> + +<p>A sigh for all answer; and then the <i>true</i> +heroine—for she was extremely beautiful, or +rather had been, poor thing, for she was too wan +and wasted to be beautiful now—lifted up her +head, from which fell a profusion of the fairest +hair in the world, and leaning her head upon +her arm, watched in a sort of impatient patience +the progress of the indefatigable needle-woman.</p> + +<p>"One o'clock striking, and you hav'n't done +yet, Lettice? how slowly you <i>do</i> get on."</p> + +<p>"I can not work fast and neatly too, dear +Myra. I can not get through as some do—I +wish I could. But my hands are not so delicate +and nimble as yours, such swelled clumsy things," +she said, laughing a little, as she looked at them—swelled, +indeed, and all mottled over with the +cold! "I can not get over the ground nimbly +and well at the same time. You are a fine race-horse, +I am a poor little drudging pony—but I +will make as much haste as I possibly can."</p> + +<p>Myra once more uttered an impatient, fretful +sigh, and sank down again, saying, "My feet +are so dreadfully cold!"</p> + +<p>"Take this bit of flannel then, and let me +wrap them up."</p> + +<p>"Nay, but you will want it."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I have only five minutes more to stay, +and I can wrap the carpet round my feet."</p> + +<p>And she laid down her work and went to the +bed, and wrapped her sister's delicate, but now +icy feet, in the flannel; and then she sat down; +and at last the task was finished. And oh, how +glad she was to creep to that mattress, and to +lay her aching limbs down upon it! Hard it +might be, and wretched the pillows, and scanty +the covering, but little felt she such inconveniences. +She fell asleep almost immediately, +while her sister still tossed and murmered. +Presently Lettice, for Lettice it was, awakened +a little, and said, "What is it, love? Poor, +poor Myra! Oh, that you could but sleep as +I do."</p> + +<p>And then she drew her own little pillow from +under her head, and put it under her sister's, +and tried to make her more comfortable; and +she partly succeeded, and at last the poor delicate +suffering creature fell asleep, and then +Lettice slumbered like a baby.</p> + + +<h3>CHAPTER II.</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Oh, blest with temper whose unclouded ray<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Can make to-morrow cheerful as to-day:<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><span style="letter-spacing:2em;">····</span>And can hear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sighs for a sister with unwounded ear."<br /></span> +<span class="i8"><span class="smcap">Pope.</span>—<i>Characters of Women.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Early in the morning, before it was light, +while the wintry twilight gleamed through the +curtainless window, Lettice was up, dressing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span> +herself by the scanty gleam cast from the street +lamps into the room, for she could not afford the +extravagance of a candle.</p> + +<p>She combed and did up her hair with modest +neatness; put on her brown stuff only gown, and +then going to the chest of drawers—opening +one with great precaution, lest she should make +a noise, and disturb Myra, who still slumbered +—drew out a shawl, and began to fold it as +if to put it on.</p> + +<p>Alas! poor thing, as she opened it, she became +first aware that the threadbare, time-worn +fabric had given way in two places. Had it +been in one, she might have contrived to conceal +the injuries of age: but it was in two.</p> + +<p>She turned it; she folded and unfolded: it +would not do. The miserable shawl seemed to +give way under her hands. It was already so +excessively shabby that she was ashamed to go +out in it; and it seemed as if it was ready to +fall to pieces in sundry other places, this dingy, +thin, brown, red, and green old shawl. Mend +it would not: besides, she was pressed for +time; so, with the appearance of considerable +reluctance, she put her hand into the drawer, +and took out another shawl.</p> + +<p>This was a different affair. It was a warm, +and not very old, plaid shawl, of various colors, +well preserved and clean looking, and, this +cold morning, <i>so</i> tempting.</p> + +<p>Should she borrow it? Myra was still asleep, +but she would be horridly cold when she got +up, and she would want her shawl, perhaps; +but then Lettice must go out, and must be decent, +and there seemed no help for it.</p> + +<p>But if she took the shawl, had she not better +light the fire before she went out? Myra would +be so chilly. But then, Myra seldom got up till +half-past eight or nine, and it was now not +seven.</p> + +<p>An hour and a half's, perhaps two hour's, +useless fire would never do. So after a little +deliberation, Lettice contented herself with +"laying it," as the housemaids say; that is, +preparing the fire to be lighted with a match: +and as she took out coal by coal to do this, she +perceived with terror how very, very low the +little store of fuel was.</p> + +<p>"We must have a bushel in to-day," she +said. "Better without meat and drink than +fire, in such weather as this."</p> + +<p>However, she was cheered with the reflection +that she should get a little more than usual by +the work that she had finished. It had been +ordered by a considerate and benevolent lady, +who, instead of going to the ready-made linen +warehouses for what she wanted, gave herself +a good deal of trouble to get at the poor workwomen +themselves who supplied these houses, +so that they should receive the full price for +their needle-work, which otherwise must of +necessity be divided.</p> + +<p>What she should get she did not quite know, +for she had never worked for this lady before; +and some ladies, though she always got more +from private customers than from the shops, +would beat her down to the last penny, and +give her as little as they possibly could.</p> + +<p>Much more than the usual price of such +matters people can not, I suppose, habitually +give; they should, however, beware of driving +hard bargains with the very poor.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Her bonnet looked dreadfully shabby, as poor +little Lettice took it out from one of the dilapidated +band-boxes that stood upon the chest of +drawers; yet it had been carefully covered with +a sheet of paper, to guard it from the injuries +of the dust and the smoke-loaded air.</p> + +<p>The young girl held it upon her hand, turning +it round, and looking at it, and she could not +help sighing when she thought of the miserably +shabby appearance she should make; and she +going to a private house, too: and the errand!—linen +for the trousseau of a young lady who +was going to be married.</p> + +<p>What a contrast did the busy imagination +draw between all the fine things that young +lady was to have and her own destitution! She +must needs be what she was—a simple-hearted, +God-fearing, generous girl, to whom envious +comparisons of others with herself were as impossible +as any other faults of the selfish—not +to feel as if the difference was, to use the common +word upon such occasions, "very hard."</p> + +<p>She did not take it so. She did not think that +it was very <i>hard</i> that others should be happy +and have plenty, because she was poor and had +nothing. They had not robbed <i>her</i>. What they +had was not taken from <i>her</i>. Nay, at this moment +their wealth was overflowing toward her. +She should gain in her little way by the general +prosperity. The thought of the increased pay +came into her mind at this moment in aid of her +good and simple-hearted feelings, and she brightened +up, and shook her bonnet, and pulled out +the ribbons, and made it look as tidy as she +could; bethinking herself that if it possibly +could be done, she would buy a bit of black +ribbon, and make it a little more spruce when +she got her money.</p> + +<p>And now the bonnet is on, and she does not +think it looks so <i>very</i> bad, and Myra's shawl, as +reflected in the little threepenny glass, looks +quite neat. Now she steals to the bed in order +to make her apologies to Myra about the shawl +and fire, but Myra still slumbers. It is half-past +seven and more, and she must be gone.</p> + +<p>The young lady for whom she made the linen +lived about twenty miles from town, but she +had come up about her things, and was to set +off home at nine o'clock that very morning. +The linen was to have been sent in the night +before, but Lettice had found it impossible to +get it done. It must <i>per force</i> wait till morning +to be carried home. The object was to get +to the house as soon as the servants should be +stirring, so that there would be time for the +things to be packed up and accompany the young +lady upon her return home.</p> + +<p>Now, Lettice is in the street. Oh, what a +morning it was! The wind was intensely cold<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span> +the snow was blown in buffets against her face; +the street was slippery: all the mud and mire +turned into inky-looking ice. She could scarcely +stand; her face was blue with the cold; her +hands, in a pair of cotton gloves, so numbed +that she could hardly hold the parcel she carried.</p> + +<p>She had no umbrella. The snow beat upon +her undefended head, and completed the demolition +of the poor bonnet; but she comforted herself +with the thought that its appearance would +now be attributed to the bad weather having +spoiled it. Nay (and she smiled as the idea +presented itself), was it not possible that she +might be supposed to have a better bonnet at +home?</p> + +<p>So she cheerfully made her way; and at last +she entered Grosvenor-square, where lamps +were just dying away before the splendid +houses, and the wintry twilight discovered the +garden, with its trees plastered with dirty snow, +while the wind rushed down from the Park +colder and bitterer than ever. She could hardly +get along at all. A few ragged, good-for-nothing +boys were almost the only people yet to be seen +about; and they laughed and mocked at her, +as, holding her bonnet down with one hand, to +prevent its absolutely giving way before the +wind, she endeavored to carry her parcel, and +keep her shawl from flying up with the other.</p> + +<p>The jeers and the laughter were very uncomfortable +to her. The things she found it the most +difficult to reconcile herself to in her fallen state +were the scoffs, and the scorns, and the coarse +jests of those once so far, far beneath her; so +far, that their very existence, as a class, was +once almost unknown, and who were now little, +if at all, worse off than herself.</p> + +<p>The rude brutality of the coarse, uneducated, +and unimproved Saxon, is a terrible grievance +to those forced to come into close quarters with +such.</p> + +<p>At last, however, she entered Green-street, +and raised the knocker, and gave one timid, +humble knock at the door of a moderate-sized +house, upon the right hand side as you go up +to the Park.</p> + +<p>Here lived the benevolent lady of whom I +have spoken, who took so much trouble to break +through the barriers which in London separate +the employers and the employed, and to assist +the poor stitchers of her own sex, by doing +away with the necessity of that hand, or those +many hands, through which their ware has +usually to pass, and in each of which something +of the recompense thereof must of necessity be +detained.</p> + +<p>She had never been at the house before; but +she had sometimes had to go to other genteel +houses, and she had too often found the insolence +of the pampered domestics harder to bear than +even the rude incivility of the streets.</p> + +<p>So she stood feeling very uncomfortable; still +more afraid of the effect her bonnet might produce +upon the man that should open the door, +than upon his superiors.</p> + +<p>But "like master, like man," is a stale old +proverb, which, like many other old saws of our +now despised as <i>childish</i> ancestors, is full of pith +and truth.</p> + +<p>The servant who appeared was a grave, gray-haired +man, of somewhat above fifty. He stooped +a little in his gait, and had <i>not</i> a very fashionable +air; but his countenance was full of kind +meaning, and his manner so gentle, that it +seemed respectful even to a poor girl like this.</p> + +<p>Before hearing her errand, observing how +cold she looked, he bade her come in and warm +herself at the hall stove; and shutting the door +in the face of the chill blast, that came rushing +forward as if to force its way into the house, he +then returned to her, and asked her errand.</p> + +<p>"I come with the young lady's work. I was +so sorry that I could not possibly get it done in +time to send it in last night; but I hope I have +not put her to any inconvenience. I hope her +trunks are not made up. I started almost before +it was light this morning."</p> + +<p>"Well, my dear, I hope not; but it was a +pity you could not get it done last night. Mrs. +Danvers likes people to be exact to the moment +and punctual in performing promises, you must +know. However, I'll take it up without loss +of time, and I dare say it will be all right."</p> + +<p>"Is it come at last?" asked a sweet, low +voice, as Reynolds entered the drawing-room. +"My love, I really began to be frightened for +your pretty things, the speaker went on, turning +to a young lady who was making an early +breakfast before a noble blazing fire, and who +was no other a person than Catherine Melwyn.</p> + +<p>"Oh, madam! I was not in the least uneasy +about them, I was quite sure they would come +at last."</p> + +<p>"I wish, my love," said Mrs. Danvers, sitting +down by the fire, "I could have shared in your +security. Poor creatures! the temptation is +sometimes so awfully great. The pawnbroker +is dangerously near. So easy to evade all inquiry +by changing one miserably obscure lodging +for another, into which it is almost impossible +to be traced. And, to tell the truth, I had not +used you quite well, my dear; for I happened +to know nothing of the previous character of +these poor girls, but that they were certainly +very neat workwomen; and they were so out +of all measure poor, that I yielded to temptation. +And that you see, my love, had its usual effect +of making me suspicious of the power of temptation +over others."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Danvers had once been one of the loveliest +women that had ever been seen: the face +of an angel, the form of the goddess of beauty +herself; manners the softest, the most delightful. +A dress that by its exquisite good taste and elegance +enhanced every other charm, and a voice +so sweet and harmonious that it made its way +to every heart.</p> + +<p>Of all this loveliness the sweet, harmonious +voice alone remained. Yet had the sad eclipse +of so much beauty been succeeded by a something +so holy, so saint-like, so tender, that the +being who stood now shorn by sorrow and suffering<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span> +of all her earthly charms, seemed only to +have progressed nearer to heaven by the exchange.</p> + +<p>Her life had, indeed, been one shipwreck, in +which all she prized had gone down. Husband, +children, parents, sister, brother—all!—every +one gone. It had been a fearful ruin. That +she could not survive this wreck of every earthly +joy was expected by all her friends: but she +had lived on. She stood there, an example of +the triumph of those three: faith, hope, and +charity, but the greatest of these was charity.</p> + +<p>In faith she rested upon the "unseen," and +the world of things "seen" around her shrunk +into insignificance. In hope she looked forward +to that day when tears should be wiped from +all eyes, and the lost and severed meet to part +never again. In charity—in other words, love—she +filled that aching, desolate heart with +fresh affections, warm and tender, if not possessing +the joyous gladness of earlier days.</p> + +<p>Every sorrowing human being, every poor +sufferer, be they who they might, or whence +they might, found a place in that compassionate +heart. No wonder it was filled to overflowing: +there are so many sorrowing sufferers in this +world.</p> + +<p>She went about doing good. Her whole life +was one act of pity.</p> + +<p>Her house was plainly furnished. The "mutton +chops with a few greens and potatoes"—laughed +at in a recent trial, as if indifference to +one's own dinner were a crime—might have +served her. She often was no better served. +Her dress was conventual in its simplicity. +Every farthing she could save upon herself was +saved for her poor.</p> + +<p>You must please to recollect that she stood +perfectly alone in the world, and that there was +not a human creature that could suffer by this +exercise of a sublime and universal charity. +Such peculiar devotion to one object is only +permitted to those whom God has severed from +their kind, and marked out, as it were, for the +generous career.</p> + +<p>Her days were passed in visiting all those +dismal places in this great city, where lowly +want "repairs to die," or where degradation +and depravity, the children of want, hide themselves. +She sat by the bed of the inmate of the +hospital, pouring the soft balm of her consolations +upon the suffering and lowly heart. In +such places her presence was hailed as the first +and greatest of blessings. Every one was +melted, or was awed into good behavior by her +presence. The most hardened of brandy-drinking +nurses was softened and amended by her +example.</p> + +<p>The situation of the young women who have +to gain their livelihood by their needle had +peculiarly excited her compassion, and to their +welfare she more especially devoted herself. +Her rank and position in society gave her a +ready access to many fine ladies who had an +immensity to be done for them: and to many +fine dress-makers who had this immensity to do.</p> + +<p>She was indefatigable in her exertions to diminish +the evils to which the young ladies—"improvers," +I believe, is the technical term—are +in too many of these establishments exposed. +She it was who got the work-rooms properly +ventilated, and properly warmed. She it was +who insisted upon the cruelty and the wretchedness +of keeping up these poor girls hour after +hour from their natural rest, till their strength +was exhausted; the very means by which they +were to earn their bread taken away; and they +were sent into decline and starvation. She made +fine ladies learn to allow more time for the preparation +of their dresses; and fine ladies' dress +makers to learn to say, "No."</p> + +<p>One of the great objects of her exertions was +to save the poor plain-sewers from the necessary +loss occasioned by the middlemen. She did not +say whether the shops exacted too much labor, +or not, for their pay; with so great a competition +for work, and so much always lying unsold +upon their boards, it was difficult to decide. +But she spared no trouble to get these poor +women employed direct by those who wanted +sewing done; and she taught to feel ashamed +of themselves those indolent fine ladies who, +rather than give themselves a little trouble to +increase a poor creature's gains, preferred going +to the ready-made shops, "because the other +was such a bore."</p> + +<p>In one of her visits among the poor of Mary-lebone, +she had accidentally met with these two +sisters, Lettice Arnold and Myra. There was +something in them both above the common +stamp, which might be discerned in spite of +their squalid dress and miserable chamber; but +she had not had time to inquire into their previous +history—which, indeed, they seemed unwilling +to tell. Catherine, preparing her wedding +clothes, and well knowing how anxious +Mrs. Danvers was to obtain work, had reserved +a good deal for her; and Mrs. Danvers had +entrusted some of it to Lettice, who was too +wretchedly destitute to be able to give any +thing in the form of a deposit. Hence her uneasiness +when the promised things did not appear +to the time.</p> + +<p>And hence the rather grave looks of Reynolds, +who could not endure to see his mistress +vexed.</p> + +<p>"Has the workwoman brought her bill with +her, Reynolds?" asked Mrs. Danvers.</p> + +<p>"I will go and ask."</p> + +<p>"Stay, ask her to come up; I should like to +inquire how she is going on, and whether she +has any other work in prospect."</p> + +<p>Reynolds obeyed; and soon the door opened, +and Lettice, poor thing, a good deal ashamed +of her own appearance, was introduced into this +warm and comfortable breakfast-room, where, +however, as I have said, there was no appearance +of luxury, except the pretty, neat breakfast, +and the blazing fire.</p> + +<p>"Good morning, my dear," said Mrs. Danvers, +kindly; "I am sorry you have had such a +wretched walk this morning. Why did you not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span> +come last night? Punctuality, my dear, is the +soul of business, and if you desire to form a private +connection for yourself, you will find it of +the utmost importance to attend to it. This +young lady is just going off, and there is barely +time to put up the things."</p> + +<p>Catherine had her back turned to the door, +and was quietly continuing her breakfast. She +did not even look round as Mrs. Danvers spoke, +but when a gentle voice replied:</p> + +<p>"Indeed, madam, I beg your pardon. Indeed, +I did my very best, but—"</p> + +<p>She started, looked up, and rose hastily from +her chair. Lettice started, too, on her side, as +she did so; and, advancing a few steps, exclaimed, +"Catherine!"</p> + +<p>"It must—it is—it is you!" cried Catherine +hastily, coming forward and taking her by the +hand. She gazed with astonishment at the +worn and weather-beaten face, the miserable +attire, the picture of utter wretchedness before +her. "You!" she kept repeating, "Lettice! +Lettice Arnold! Good Heavens! where are +they all? Where is your father? Your mother? +Your sister?"</p> + +<p>"Gone!" said the poor girl. "Gone—every +one gone but poor Myra!"</p> + +<p>"And she—where is <i>she</i>? The beautiful +creature, that used to be the pride of poor Mrs. +Price's heart. How lovely she was! And you, +dear, dear Lettice, how can you, how have you +come to this?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Danvers stood like one petrified with +astonishment while this little scene was going +on. She kept looking at the two girls, but said +nothing.</p> + +<p>"Poor, dear Lettice!" Catherine went on in +a tone of the most affectionate kindness, "have +you come all through the streets and alone this +most miserable morning? And working—working +for me! Good Heavens! how has all +this come about?"</p> + +<p>"But come to the fire first," she continued, +taking hold of the almost frozen hand.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Danvers now came forward.</p> + +<p>"You seem to have met with an old acquaintance, +Catherine. Pray come to the fire, +and sit down and warm yourself; and have you +breakfasted?"</p> + +<p>Lettice hesitated. She had become so accustomed +to her fallen condition, that it seemed +to her that she could no longer with propriety +sit down to the same table with Catherine.</p> + +<p>Catherine perceived this, and it shocked and +grieved her excessively. "Do come and sit +down," she said, encouraged by Mrs. Danvers's +invitation, "and tell us, have you breakfasted? +But though you have, a warm cup of tea this +cold morning must be comfortable."</p> + +<p>And she pressed her forward, and seated her, +half reluctant, in an arm-chair that stood by the +fire: then she poured out a cup of tea, and +carried it to her, repeating,</p> + +<p>"Won't you eat? Have you breakfasted?"</p> + +<p>The plate of bread-and-butter looked delicious +to the half-starved girl: the warm cup of tea +seemed to bring life into her. She had been +silent from surprise, and a sort of humiliated +embarrassment; but now her spirits began to +revive, and she said, "I never expected to have +seen you again, Miss Melwyn!"</p> + +<p>"<i>Miss Melwyn!</i> What does that mean? +Dear Lettice, how has all this come about?"</p> + +<p>"My father was ill the last time you were in +Nottinghamshire, do you not recollect, Miss +Melwyn? He never recovered of that illness; +but it lasted nearly two years. During that +time, your aunt, Mrs. Montague, died; and her +house was sold, and new people came; and you +never were at Castle Rising afterward."</p> + +<p>"No—indeed—and from that day to this +have never chanced to hear any thing of its +inhabitants. But Mrs. Price, your aunt, who +was so fond of Myra, what is become of her?"</p> + +<p>"She died before my poor father."</p> + +<p>"Well; but she was rich. Did she do nothing?"</p> + +<p>"Every body thought her rich, because she +spent a good deal of money; but hers was only +income. Our poor aunt was no great economist—she +made no savings."</p> + +<p>"Well; and your mother? I can not understand +it. No; I can not understand it," Catherine +kept repeating. "So horrible! dear, dear +Lettice—and your shawl is quite wet, and so is +your bonnet, poor, dear girl. Why did you not +put up your umbrella?"</p> + +<p>"For a very good reason, dear Miss Melwyn; +because I do not possess one."</p> + +<p>"Call me Catherine, won't you? or I will +not speak to you again." But Mrs. Danvers's +inquiring looks seemed now to deserve a little +attention. She seemed impatient to have the +enigma of this strange scene solved. Catherine +caught her eye, and, turning from her friend, +with whom she had been so much absorbed as +to forget every thing else, she said:</p> + +<p>"Lettice Arnold is a clergyman's daughter, +ma'am."</p> + +<p>"I began to think something of that sort," +said Mrs. Danvers; "but, my dear young lady, +what can have brought you to this terrible state +of destitution?"</p> + +<p>"Misfortune upon misfortune, madam. My +father was, indeed, a clergyman, and held the +little vicarage of Castle Rising. There Catherine," +looking affectionately up at her, "met +me upon her visits to her aunt, Mrs. Montague."</p> + +<p>"We have known each other from children," +put in Catherine.</p> + +<p>The door opened, and Reynolds appeared—</p> + +<p>"The cab is waiting, if you please, Miss +Melwyn."</p> + +<p>"Oh, dear! oh, dear! I can't go just this +moment. Bid the man wait."</p> + +<p>"It is late already," said Reynolds, taking +out his watch. "The train starts in twenty +minutes."</p> + +<p>"Oh, dear! oh, dear! and when does the +next go? I can't go by this. Can I, dear +Mrs. Danvers? It is impossible."</p> + +<p>"Another starts in an hour afterward."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh! that will do—tell Sarah to be ready +for that. Well, my dear, go on, go on—dear +Lettice, you were about to tell us how all this +happened—but just another cup of tea. Do you +like it strong?"</p> + +<p>"I like it any way," said Lettice, who was +beginning to recover her spirits, "I have not +tasted any thing so comfortable for a very long +time."</p> + +<p>"Dear me! dear me!"</p> + +<p>"You must have suffered very much, I fear, +my dear young lady," said Mrs. Danvers, in a +kind voice of interest, "before you could have +sunk to the level of that miserable home where +I found you."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Lettice. "Every one suffers +very much, be the descent slow or rapid, when +he has to fall so far. But what were my sufferings +to poor Myra's!"</p> + +<p>"And why were your sufferings as nothing +in comparison with poor Myra's?"</p> + +<p>"Ah, madam, there are some in this world +not particularly favored by nature or fortune, +who were born to be denied; who are used to +it from their childhood—it becomes a sort of +second nature to them, as it were. They +scarcely feel it. But a beautiful girl, adored +by an old relation, accustomed to every sort of +indulgence and luxury! They doated upon the +very ground she trod on. Oh! to be cast down +to such misery, that <i>is</i> dreadful."</p> + +<p>"I don't see—I don't know," said Catherine, +who, like the world in general, however much +they might admire, and however much too +many might flatter Myra, greatly preferred +Lettice to her sister.</p> + +<p>"I don't know," said she, doubtingly.</p> + +<p>"Ah! but you would know if you could see!" +said the generous girl. "If you could see what +she suffers from every thing—from things that +I do not even feel, far less care for—you would +be so sorry for her."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Danvers looked with increasing interest +upon the speaker. She seemed to wish to go +on with the conversation about this sister, so +much pitied; so she said, "I believe what you +say is very true. Very true, Catherine, in spite +of your skeptical looks. Some people really do +suffer very much more than others under the +same circumstances of privation."</p> + +<p>"Yes, selfish people like Myra," thought +Catherine, but she said nothing.</p> + +<p>"Indeed, madam, it is so. They seem to +feel every thing so much more. Poor Myra—I +can sleep like a top in our bed, and she very +often can not close her eyes—and the close +room, and the poor food. I can get along—I +was made to rough it, my poor aunt always +said—but Myra!"</p> + +<p>"Well but," rejoined Catherine, "do pray +tell us how you came to this cruel pass? Your +poor father—"</p> + +<p>"His illness was very lingering and very +painful—and several times a surgical operation +was required. My mother could not bear—could +any of us?—to have it done by the poor +blundering operator of that remote village. To +have a surgeon from Nottingham was very expensive; +and then the medicines; and the necessary +food and attendance. The kindest and +most provident father can not save much out of +one hundred and ten pounds a year, and what +was saved was soon all gone."</p> + +<p>"Well, well," repeated Catherine, her eyes +fixed with intense interest upon the speaker.</p> + +<p>"His deathbed was a painful scene," Lettice +went on, her face displaying her emotion, while +she with great effort restrained her tears: "he +trusted in God; but there was a fearful prospect +before us, and he could not help trembling +for his children. Dear, dear father! he reproached +himself for his want of faith, and +would try to strengthen us, 'but the flesh,' he +said, 'was weak.' He could not look forward +without anguish. It was a fearful struggle to +be composed and confiding—he could not help +being anxious. It was for us, you know, not +for himself."</p> + +<p>"Frightful!" cried Catherine, indignantly; +"frightful! that a man of education, a scholar, +a gentleman, a man of so much activity in doing +good, and so much power in preaching it, should +be brought to this. One hundred and ten +pounds a year, was that all? How could you +exist?"</p> + +<p>"We had the house and the garden besides, +you know, and my mother was such an excellent +manager; and my father! No religious +of the severest order was ever more self-denying, +and there was only me. My aunt Price, +you know, took Myra—Myra had been delicate +from a child, and was so beautiful, and she was +never made to rough it, my mother and my +aunt said. Now I seemed made expressly for +the purpose," she added, smiling with perfect +simplicity.</p> + +<p>"And his illness, so long! and so expensive!" +exclaimed Catherine, with a sort of cry.</p> + +<p>"Yes, it was—and to see the pains he took +that it should not be expensive. He would be +quite annoyed if my mother got any thing nicer +than usual for his dinner. She used to be +obliged to make a mystery of it; and we were +forced almost to go down upon our knees to +get him to have the surgeon from Nottingham. +Nothing but the idea that his life would be more +secure in such hands could have persuaded +him into it. He knew how important that was +to us. As for the pain which the bungling old +doctor hard by would have given him, he would +have borne that rather than have spent money. +Oh, Catherine! there have been times upon +times when I have envied the poor. They have +hospitals to go to; they are not ashamed to ask +for a little wine from those who have it; they +can beg when they are in want of a morsel of +bread. It is natural. It is right—they feel it +to be right. But oh! for those, as they call it, +better born, and educated to habits of thought +like those of my poor father!... Want is, +indeed, like an armed man, when he comes into +<i>their</i> dwellings."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Too true, my dear young lady," said Mrs. +Danvers, whose eyes were by this time moist; +"but go on, if it does not pain you too much, +your story is excessively interesting. There is +yet a wide step between where your relation +leaves us, and where I found you."</p> + +<p>"We closed his eyes at last in deep sorrow. +Excellent man, he deserved a better lot! So, +at least, it seems to me—but who knows? Nay, +he would have reproved me for saying so. He +used to say of <i>himself</i>, so cheerfully, 'It's a rough +road, but it leads to a good place.' Why could +he not feel this for his wife and children? He +found that so very difficult!"</p> + +<p>"He was an excellent and a delightful man," +said Catherine. "Well?"...</p> + +<p>"Well, my dear, when he had closed his eyes, +there was his funeral. We <i>could</i> not have a +parish funeral. The veriest pauper has a piety +toward the dead which revolts at that. We did +it as simply as we possibly could, consistently +with common decency; but they charge so +enormously for such things: and my poor mother +would not contest it. When I remonstrated a +little, and said I thought it was right to prevent +others being treated in the same way, who could +no better afford it than we could, I shall never +forget my mother's face: 'I dare say—yes, +you are right, Lettice; quite right—but not +this—not <i>his</i>. I can not debate that matter. +Forgive me, dear girl; it is weak—but I can +not.'</p> + +<p>"This expense exhausted all that was left of +our little money: only a few pounds remained +when our furniture had been sold, and we were +obliged to give up possession of that dear, dear, +little parsonage, and we were without a roof to +shelter us. You remember it, Catherine!"</p> + +<p>"Remember it! to be sure I do. That +sweet little place. The tiny house, all covered +over with honey-suckles and jasmines. How +sweet they <i>did</i> smell. And your flower-garden, +Lettice, how you used to work in it. It was +that which made you so hale and strong, aunt +Montague said. She admired your industry so, +you can't think. She used to say you were +worth a whole bundle of fine ladies."</p> + +<p>"Did she?" and Lettice smiled again. She +was beginning to look cheerful, in spite of her +dismal story. There was something so inveterately +cheerful in that temper, that nothing +could entirely subdue it. The warmth of her +generous nature it was that kept the blood and +spirits flowing.</p> + +<p>"It was a sad day when we parted from it. +My poor mother! How she kept looking back—looking +back—striving not to cry; and Myra +was drowned in tears."</p> + +<p>"And what did you do?"</p> + +<p>"I am sure I don't know; I was so sorry for +them both; I quite forget all the rest."</p> + +<p>"But how came you to London?" asked +Mrs. Danvers. "Every body, without other resource, +seem to come to London. The worst +place, especially for women, they can possibly +come to. People are so completely lost in London. +Nobody dies of want, nobody is utterly +and entirely destitute of help or friends, except +in London."</p> + +<p>"A person we knew in the village, and to +whom my father had been very kind, had a son +who was employed in one of the great linen-warehouses, +and he promised to endeavor to get +us needle-work; and we flattered ourselves, +with industry, we should, all three together, do +pretty well. So we came to London, and took +a small lodging, and furnished it with the remnant +of our furniture. We had our clothes, +which, though plain enough, were a sort of little +property, you know. But when we came +to learn the prices they actually paid for work, +it was really frightful! Work fourteen hours a +day apiece, and we could only gain between +three and four shillings a week each—sometimes +hardly that. There was our lodging to pay, +three shillings a week, and six shillings left for +firing and food for three people; this was in the +weeks of <i>plenty</i>. Oh! it was frightful!"</p> + +<p>"Horrible!" echoed Catherine.</p> + +<p>"We could not bring ourselves down to it at +once. We hoped and flattered ourselves that +by-and-by we should get some work that would +pay better; and when we wanted a little more +food, or in very cold days a little more fire, we +were tempted to sell or pawn one article after +another. At last my mother fell sick, and then +all went; she died, and she <i>had</i> a pauper's +funeral," concluded Lettice, turning very pale.</p> + +<p>They were all three silent. At last Mrs. +Danvers began again.</p> + +<p>"That was not the lodging I found you in?"</p> + +<p>"No, madam, that was too expensive. We +left it, and we only pay one-and-sixpence a +week for this, the furniture being our own."</p> + +<p>"The cab is at the door, Miss Melwyn," +again interrupted Reynolds.</p> + +<p>"Oh, dear! oh, dear! I can't go, indeed, +Mrs. Danvers, I can't go;" with a pleading +look, "may I stay one day longer?"</p> + +<p>"Most gladly would I keep you, my dearest +love; but your father and mother.... And +they will have sent to meet you."</p> + +<p>"And suppose they have, John must go back, +but stay, stay, Sarah shall go and take all my +boxes, and say I am coming to-morrow; that +will do."</p> + +<p>"And you travel alone by railway? Your +mother will never like that."</p> + +<p>"I am ashamed," cried Catherine, with energy, +"to think of such mere conventional difficulties, +when here I stand in the presence of real misery. +Indeed, my dear Mrs. Danvers, my mother will +be quite satisfied when she hears why I staid. +I must be an insensible creature if I could go +away without seeing more of dear Lettice."</p> + +<p>Lettice looked up so pleased, so grateful, so +happy.</p> + +<p>"Well, my love, I think your mother will +not be uneasy, as Sarah goes; and I just remember +Mrs. Sands travels your way to-morrow, +so she will take care of you; for taken care +of you must be, my pretty Catherine, till you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span> +are a little less young, and somewhat less handsome."</p> + +<p>And she patted the sweet, fall, rosy cheek.</p> + +<p>Catherine was very pretty indeed, if you care +to know that, and so it was settled.</p> + +<p>And now, Lettice having enjoyed a happier +hour than she had known for many a long day, +began to recollect herself, and to think of poor +Myra.</p> + +<p>She rose from her chair, and taking up her +bonnet and shawl, which Catherine had hung +before the fire to dry, seemed preparing to +depart.</p> + +<p>Then both Catherine and Mrs. Danvers began +to think of her little bill, which had not been +settled yet. Catherine felt excessively awkward +and uncomfortable at the idea of offering +her old friend and companion money; but Mrs. +Danvers was too well acquainted with real +misery, had too much approbation for that spirit +which is not above <i>earning</i>, but is above begging, +to have any embarrassment in such a +case.</p> + +<p>"Catherine, my dear," she said, "you owe +Miss Arnold some money. Had you not better +settle it before she leaves?"</p> + +<p>Both the girls blushed.</p> + +<p>"Nay, my dears," said Mrs. Danvers, kindly; +"why this? I am sure," coming up to them, +and taking Lettice's hand, "I hold an honest +hand here, which is not ashamed to labor, when +it has been the will of God that it shall be by +her own exertions that she obtains her bread, +and part of the bread of another, if I mistake +not. What you have nobly earned as nobly +receive. Humiliation belongs to the idle and +the dependent, not to one who maintains herself."</p> + +<p>The eyes of Lettice glistened, and she could +not help gently pressing the hand which held +hers.</p> + +<p>Such sentiments were congenial to her heart. +She had never been able to comprehend the +conventional distinctions between what is honorable +or degrading, under the fetters of which +so many lose the higher principles of independence—true +honesty and true honor. To work +for her living had never lessened her in her +own eyes; and she had found, with a sort of +astonishment, that it was to sink her in the eyes +of others. To deny herself every thing in food, +furniture, clothing, in order to escape debt, and +add in her little way to the comforts of those +she loved, had ever appeared to her noble and +praiseworthy. She was as astonished, as many +such a heart has been before her, with the +course of this world's esteem, too often measured +by what people <i>spend</i> upon themselves, +rather than by what they spare. I can not get +that story in the newspaper—the contempt expressed +for the dinner of one mutton chop, +potatoes, and a few greens—out of my head.</p> + +<p>Catherine's confusion had, in a moment of +weakness, extended to Lettice. She had felt +ashamed to be paid as a workwoman by one +once her friend, and in social rank her equal; +but now she raised her head, with a noble frankness +and spirit.</p> + +<p>"I am very much obliged to you for recollecting +it, madam, for in truth the money is very much +wanted; and if—" turning to her old +friend, "my dear Catherine can find me a little more +work, I should be very greatly obliged to +her."</p> + +<p>Catherine again changed color. Work! she +was longing to offer her money. She had +twenty pounds in her pocket, a present from +her godmother, to buy something pretty for her +wedding. She was burning with desire to put +it into Lettice's hand.</p> + +<p>She stammered—she hesitated.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps you <i>have</i> no more work just now," +said Lettice. "Never mind, then; I am sure +when there is an opportunity, you will remember +what a pleasure it will be to me to work +for you; and that a poor needlewoman is very +much benefited by having private customers."</p> + +<p>"My dear, dear Lettice!" and Catherine's +arms were round her neck. She could not help +shedding a few tears.</p> + +<p>"But to return to business," said Mrs. Danvers, +"for I see Miss Arnold is impatient to be +gone. What is your charge, my dear? These +slips are tucked and beautifully stitched and +done."</p> + +<p>"I should not get more than threepence, at +most fourpence, at the shops for them. Should +you think ninepence an unreasonable charge? +I believe it is what you would pay if you had +them done at the schools."</p> + +<p>"Threepence, fourpence, ninepence! Good +Heavens!" cried Catherine; "so beautifully +done as these are; and then your needles +and thread, you have made no charge for +them."</p> + +<p>"We pay for those ourselves," said Lettice.</p> + +<p>"But my dear," said Mrs. Danvers, "what +Catherine would have to pay for this work, if +bought from a linen warehouse, would at least +be fifteen pence, and not nearly so well done, +for these are beautiful. Come, you must ask +eighteen pence; there are six of them; nine +shillings, my dear."</p> + +<p>The eyes of poor Lettice quite glistened. +She could not refuse. She felt that to seem +over delicate upon this little enhancement of +price would be really great moral indelicacy. +"Thank you," said she, "you are very liberal; +but it must only be for this once. If I am to +be your needlewoman in ordinary, Catherine, I +must only be paid what you would pay to +others."</p> + +<p>She smiled pleasantly as she said this; but +Catherine could not answer the smile. She felt +very sad as she drew the nine shillings from her +purse, longing to make them nine sovereigns. +But she laid the money at last before Lettice +upon the table.</p> + +<p>Lettice took it up, and bringing out an old +dirty leathern purse, was going to put it in.</p> + +<p>"At least, let me give you a better purse," +said Catherine, eagerly, offering her own handsome<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span> +one, yet of a strong texture, for it was her +business purse.</p> + +<p>"They would think I had stolen it," said Lettice, +putting it aside. "No, thank you, dear, kind +Catherine. Consistency in all things; and my +old leather convenience seems to me much more +consistent with my bonnet than your beautiful +one. Not but that I shall get myself a decent +bonnet <i>now</i>, for really this is a shame to be +seen. And so, good-by; and farewell, madam. +When you <i>have</i> work, you won't forget me, will +you, dear?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Catherine has plenty of work," put in +Mrs. Danvers, "but somehow she is not quite +herself this morning"—again looking at her +very kindly. "You can not wonder, Miss Arnold, +that she is much more agitated by this +meeting than you can be. My dear, there are +those pocket-handkerchiefs to be marked, which +we durst not trust to an unknown person. That +will be a profitable job. My dear, you would +have to pay five shillings apiece at Mr. Morris's +for having them embroidered according to that +pattern you fixed upon, and which I doubt not +your friend and her sister can execute. There +are six of them to be done."</p> + +<p>"May I look at the pattern? Oh, yes! I +think I can do it. I will take the greatest possible +pains. Six at five shillings each! Oh! +madam!—Oh, Catherine!—what a benefit this +will be."</p> + +<p>Again Catherine felt it impossible to speak. +She could only stoop down, take the poor hand, +so roughened with hardships, and raise it to her +lips.</p> + +<p>The beautiful handkerchiefs were brought.</p> + +<p>"I will only take one at a time, if you please. +These are too valuable to be risked at our lodgings. +When I have done this, I will fetch another, +and so on. I shall not lose time in getting +them done, depend upon it," said Lettice, +cheerfully.</p> + +<p>"Take two, at all events, and then Myra can +help you."</p> + +<p>"No, only one at present, at least, thank +you."</p> + +<p>She did not say what she knew to be very +true, that Myra could not help her. Myra's +fingers were twice as delicate as her own; +and Myra, before their misfortunes, had mostly +spent her time in ornamental work—her aunt +holding plain sewing to be an occupation rather +beneath so beautiful and distinguished a creature. +Nevertheless, when work became of so +much importance to them all, and fine work +especially, as gaining so much better a recompense +in proportion to the time employed, Myra's +accomplishments in this way proved very +useless. She had not been accustomed to that +strenuous, and, to the indolent, painful effort, +which is necessary to do any thing <i>well</i>. To +exercise self-denial, self-government, persevering +industry, virtuous resistance against weariness, +disgust, aching fingers and heavy eyes—temptations +which haunt the indefatigable laborer +in such callings, she was incapable of: +the consequence was, that she worked in a very +inferior manner. While Lettice, as soon as she +became aware of the importance of this accomplishment +as to the means of increasing her +power of adding to her mother's comforts, had +been indefatigable in her endeavors to accomplish +herself in the art, and was become a very +excellent workwoman.</p> + + +<h3>CHAPTER III.</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Umbriel, a dusky, melancholy sprite,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As ever sullied the fair face of light."—<span class="smcap">Pope.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>And now she is upon her way home. And +oh! how lightly beats that honest simple +heart in her bosom: and oh! how cheerily sits +her spirit upon its throne. How happily, too, +she looks about at the shops, and thinks of what +she shall buy; not what she can possibly do +without; not of the very cheapest and poorest +that is to be had for money, but upon what she +shall <i>choose</i>!</p> + +<p>Then she remembers the fable of the Maid +and the Milk-pail, and grows prudent and +prosaic; and resolves that she will not spend +her money till she has got it. She begins to +limit her desires, and to determine that she will +only lay out six shillings this morning, and keep +three in her purse, as a resource for contingencies. +Nay, she begins to grow a little Martha-like +and careful, and to dream about savings-banks; +and putting half-a-crown in, out of the +way of temptation, when she is paid for her first +pocket-handkerchief.</p> + +<p>Six shillings, however, she means to expend +for the more urgent wants. Two shillings +coals; one shilling a very, very coarse straw +bonnet; fourpence ribbon to trim it with; one +shilling bread, and sixpence potatoes, a half-pennyworth +of milk, and then, what is left?—one +shilling and a penny-half-penny. Myra +shall have a cup of tea, with sugar in it; and a +muffin, that she loves so, and a bit of butter. +Four-pennyworth of tea, three-pennyworth of +sugar, two-pennyworth of butter, one penny +muffin; and threepence-halfpenny remains in +the good little manager's hands.</p> + +<p>She came up the dark stairs of her lodgings +so cheerfully, followed by a boy lugging up her +coals, she carrying the other purchases herself—so +happy! quite radiant with joy—and opened +the door of the miserable little apartment.</p> + +<p>It was a bleak wintry morning. Not a single +ray of the sun could penetrate the gray fleecy +covering in which the houses were wrapped; +yet the warmth of the smoke and fires was +sufficient so far to assist the temperature of the +atmosphere as to melt the dirty snow; which +now kept dripping from the roofs in dreary +cadence, and splashing upon the pavement below.</p> + +<p>The room looked so dark, so dreary, so +dismal! Such a contrast to the one she had +just left! Myra was up, and was dressed in +her miserable, half-worn, cotton gown, which +was thrown round her in the most untidy, comfortless<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span> +manner. She could not think it worth +while to care how <i>such</i> a gown was put on. +Her hair was dingy and disordered; to be sure +there was but a broken comb to straighten it +with, and who could do any thing with <i>such</i> a +comb? She was cowering over the fire, which +was now nearly extinguished, and, from time to +time, picking up bit by bit of the cinders, as +they fell upon the little hearth, putting them on +again—endeavoring to keep the fire alive. +Wretchedness in the extreme was visible in her +dress, her attitude, her aspect.</p> + +<p>She turned round as Lettice entered, and +saying pettishly, "I thought you never <i>would</i> +come back, and I do <i>so</i> want my shawl," returned +to her former attitude, with her elbows +resting upon her knees, and her chin upon the +palms of her hands.</p> + +<p>"I have been a sad long time, indeed," said +Lettice, good-humoredly; "you must have been +tired to death of waiting for me, and wondering +what I <i>could</i> be about. But I've brought something +back which will make you amends. And, +in the first place, here's your shawl," putting it +over her, "and thank you for the use of it—though +I would not ask your leave, because I +could not bear to waken you. But I was <i>sure</i> +you would lend it me—and now for the fire. +For once in a way we <i>will</i> have a good one. +There, Sim, bring in the coals, put them in that +wooden box there. Now for a good lump or +two." And on they went; and the expiring +fire began to crackle and sparkle, and make a +pleased noise, and a blaze soon caused even that +room to look a little cheerful.</p> + +<p>"Oh dear! I am so glad we may for <i>once</i> be +allowed to have coal enough to put a spark of +life into us," said Myra.</p> + +<p>Lettice had by this time filled the little old +tin kettle, and was putting it upon the fire, and +then she fetched an old tea-pot with a broken +spout, a saucer without a cup, and a cup without +a saucer; and putting the two together, for +they were usually divided between the sisters, +said:</p> + +<p>"I have got something for you which I know +you will like still better than a blaze, a cup of +tea. And to warm your poor fingers, see if you +can't toast yourself this muffin," handing it to +her upon what was now a two-pronged, but had +once been a three-pronged fork.</p> + +<p>"But what have you got for yourself?" Myra +had, at least, the grace to say.</p> + +<p>"Oh! I have had <i>such</i> a breakfast. And +such a thing has happened! but I can not and +will not tell you till you have had your own +breakfast, poor, dear girl. You must be ravenous—at +least, I should be in your place—but +you never seem so hungry as I am, poor Myra. +However, I was sure you could eat a muffin."</p> + +<p>"That was very good-natured of you, Lettice, +to think of it. It <i>will</i> be a treat. But oh! to +think that we should be brought to this—to +think a muffin—<i>one</i> muffin—a treat!" she added +dismally.</p> + +<p>"Let us be thankful when we get it, however," +said her sister: "upon my word. Mrs. +Bull has given us some very good coals. Oh, +how the kettle does enjoy them! It must be +quite a treat to our kettle to feel <i>hot</i>—poor +thing! Lukewarm is the best it mostly attains +to. Hear how it buzzes and hums, like a +pleased child."</p> + +<p>And so she prattled, and put a couple of spoonfuls +of tea into the cracked tea-pot. There +were but about six in the paper, but Myra liked +her tea strong, and she should have it as she +pleased this once. Then she poured out a cup, +put in some milk and sugar, and, with a smile +of ineffable affection, presented it, with the +muffin she had buttered, to her sister. Myra +<i>did</i> enjoy it. To the poor, weedy, delicate +thing, a cup of good tea, with something to eat +that she could relish, <i>was</i> a real blessing. Mrs. +Danvers was right so far: things did really go +much harder with her than with Lettice; but +then she made them six times worse by her discontent +and murmuring spirit, and Lettice made +them six times better by her cheerfulness and +generous disregard of self.</p> + +<p>While the one sister was enjoying her breakfast, +the other, who really began to feel tired, +was very glad to sit down and enjoy the fire. +So she took the other chair, and, putting herself +upon the opposite side of the little table, began +to stretch out her feet to the fender, and feel +herself quite comfortable. Three shillings in +her purse, and three-pence halfpenny to do just +what she liked with! perhaps buy Myra a roll +for tea: there would be butter enough left.</p> + +<p>Then she began her story. But the effect it +produced was not exactly what she had expected. +Instead of sharing in her sister's thankful joy for +this unexpected deliverance from the most abject +want, through the discovery of a friend—able +and willing to furnish employment herself, and +to recommend them, as, in her hopeful view of +things, Lettice anticipated, to others, and promising +them work of a description that would pay +well, and make them quite comfortable—Myra +began to draw a repining contrast between +Catherine's situation and her own.</p> + +<p>The poor beauty had been educated by her +silly and romantic old aunt to look forward to +making some capital match. "She had such a +sweet pretty face, and so many accomplishments +of mind and manner," for such was the way the +old woman loved to talk. Accomplishments of +mind and manner, by the way, are indefinite +things; any body may put in a claim for them +on the part of any one. As for the more positive +acquirements which are to be seen, handled, +or heard and appreciated—such as dancing, +music, languages, and so forth, Myra had as +slender a portion of those as usually falls to the +lot of indulged, idle, nervous girls. The poor +beauty felt all the bitterness of the deepest +mortification at what she considered this cruel +contrast of her fate as compared to Catherine's. +She had been indulged in that pernicious habit +of the mind—the making claims. "With claims +no better than her own" was her expression<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span> +for though Catherine had more money, every +body said Catherine was <i>only</i> pretty, which last +sentence implied that there was another person +of Catherine's acquaintance, who was positively +and extremely beautiful.</p> + +<p>Lettice, happily for herself, had never been +accustomed to make "claims." She had, indeed, +never distinctly understood whom such +claims were to be made upon. She could not +quite see why it was very <i>hard</i> that other people +should be happier than herself. I am sure she +would have been very sorry if she had thought +that every body was as uncomfortable.</p> + +<p>She was always sorry when she heard her +sister talking in this manner, partly because she +felt it could not be quite right, and partly because +she was sure it did no good, but made +matters a great deal worse; but she said +nothing. Exhortation, indeed, only made matters +worse: nothing offended Myra so much as +an attempt to make her feel more comfortable, +and to reconcile her to the fate she complained +of as so <i>hard</i>.</p> + +<p>Even when let alone, it would often be some +time before she recovered her good humor; and +this was the case now. I am afraid she was a +little vexed that Lettice and not herself had met +with the good luck first to stumble upon Catherine, +and also a little envious of the pleasing +impression it was plain her sister had made. So +she began to fall foul of Lettice's new bonnet, +and to say, in a captious tone,</p> + +<p>"You got money enough to buy yourself a +new bonnet, I see."</p> + +<p>"Indeed, I did," Lettice answered with simplicity. +"It was the very first thing I thought +of. Mine was such a wretched thing, and +wetted with the snow—the very boys hooted at +it. Poor old friend!" said she, turning it upon +her hand, "you have lost even the shape and +pretension to be a bonnet. What must I do +with thee? The back of the fire? Sad fate! +No, generous companion of my cares and labors, +that shall <i>not</i> be thy destiny. Useful to the +last, thou shalt <i>light</i> to-morrow's fire; and that +will be the best satisfaction to thy generous +manes."</p> + +<p>"<i>My</i> bonnet is not so <i>very</i> much better," said +Myra, rather sulkily.</p> + +<p>"<i>Not</i> so <i>very</i> much, alas! but better, far +better than mine. And, besides, confess, please, +my dear, that you had the last bonnet. Two +years ago, it's true; but mine had seen three; +and then, remember, I am going into grand company +again to-morrow, and <i>must</i> be decent."</p> + +<p>This last remark did not sweeten Myra's +temper.</p> + +<p>"Oh! I forgot. Of course you'll keep your +good company to yourself. I am, indeed, not +fit to be seen in it. But you'll want a new +gown and a new shawl, my dear, though, indeed, +you can always take mine, as you did this +morning."</p> + +<p>"Now, Myra!" said Lettice, "can you really +be so naughty? Nay, you are cross; I see it +in your face, though you won't look at me. +Now don't be so foolish. Is it not all the same +to us both? Are we not in one box? If you +wish for the new bonnet, take it, and I'll take +yours: I don't care, my dear. You were always +used to be more handsomely dressed than me—it +must seem quite odd for you not to be so. I +only want to be decent when I go about the +work, which I shall have to do often, as I told +you, because I dare not have two of these expensive +handkerchiefs in my possession at once. +Dear me, girl! Have we not troubles enough? +For goodness' sake don't let us <i>make</i> them. +There, dear, take the bonnet, and I'll take +yours; but I declare, when I look at the two, +this is so horridly coarse, yours, old as it is +looks the genteeler to my mind," laughing.</p> + +<p>So thought Myra, and kept her own bonnet, +Lettice putting upon it the piece of new ribbon +she had bought, and after smoothing and rubbing +the faded one upon her sister's, trimming with +it her own.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>The two friends in Green-street sat silently +for a short time after the door had closed upon +Lettice; and then Catherine began.</p> + +<p>"More astonishing things happen in the real +world than one ever finds in a book. I am sure +if such a reverse of fortune as this had been +described to me in a story, I should at once have +declared it to be impossible. I could not have +believed it credible that, in a society such as +ours—full of all sorts of kind, good-natured +people, who are daily doing so much for the +poor—an amiable girl like this, the daughter of +a clergyman of the Church of England, could +be suffered to sink into such abject poverty."</p> + +<p>"Ah! my dear Catherine, that shows you +have only seen life upon one side, and that its +fairest side—as it presents itself in the country. +You can not imagine what a dreadful thing it +may prove in large cities. It can not enter into +the head of man to conceive the horrible contrasts +of large cities—the dreadful destitution of +large cities—the awful solitude of a crowd. In +the country, I think, such a thing hardly could +have happened, however great the difficulty is +of helping those who still preserve the delicacy +and dignity with regard to money matters, which +distinguishes finer minds—but in London what +<i>can</i> be done? Like lead in the mighty waters, +the moneyless and friendless sink to the bottom, +Society in all its countless degrees closes over +them: they are lost in its immensity, hidden +from every eye, and they perish as an insect +might perish; amid the myriads of its kind, unheeded +by every other living creature. Ah, my +love! if your walks lay where mine have done, +your heart would bleed for these destitute +women, born to better hopes, and utterly shipwrecked."</p> + +<p>"She was such a dear, amiable girl," Catherine +went on, "so cheerful, so sweet-tempered—so +clever in all that one likes to see people +clever about! Her mother was a silly woman."</p> + +<p>"So she showed, I fear, by coming to London," +said Mrs. Danvers.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span></p> + +<p>"She was so proud of Myra's beauty, and +she seemed to think so little of Lettice. She +was always prophesying that Myra would make +a great match; and so did her aunt, Mrs. Price, +who was no wiser than Mrs. Arnold; and they +brought up the poor girl to such a conceit of +herself—to 'not to do this,' and 'it was beneath +her to do that'—and referring every individual +thing to her comfort and advancement, till, poor +girl, she could hardly escape growing, what she +certainly did grow into, a very spoiled, selfish +creature. While dear Lettice in her simplicity—that +simplicity 'which thinketh no evil'—took +it so naturally, that so it was, and so it +ought to be; that sometimes one laughed, and +sometimes one felt provoked, but one loved her +above all things. I never saw such a temper."</p> + +<p>"I dare say," said Mrs. Danvers, "that your +intention in staying in town to-day was to pay +them a visit, which, indeed, we had better do. +I had only a glance into their apartment the +other day, but it occurred to me that they +wanted common necessaries. Ignorant as I was +of who they were, I was thinking to get them +put upon Lady A——'s coal and blanket list, +but that can not very well be done now. However, +presents are always permitted under certain +conditions, and the most delicate receive +them; and, really, this is a case to waive a feeling +of that sort in some measure. As you are +an old friend and acquaintance, there can be no +harm in a few presents before you leave town."</p> + +<p>"So I was thinking, ma'am, and I am very +impatient to go and see them, and find out what +they may be most in want of."</p> + +<p>"Well, my dear, I do not see why we should +lose time, and I will order a cab to take us, for +it is rather too far to walk this terrible day."</p> + +<p>They soon arrived at the place I have described, +and, descending from their cab, walked +along in front of this row of lofty houses looking +upon the grave-yard, and inhabited by so +much human misery. The doors of most of the +houses stood open, for they were all let in rooms, +and the entrance and staircase were common as +the street. What forms of human misery and +degradation presented themselves during one +short walk which I once took there with a friend +employed upon a mission of mercy!</p> + +<p>Disease in its most frightful form, panting to +inhale a little fresh air. Squalid misery, the +result of the gin-shop—decent misery ready to +starve. Women shut up in one room with great +heartless, brutal, disobedient boys—sickness resting +untended upon its solitary bed. Wailing infants—scolding +mothers—human nature under +its most abject and degraded forms. No thrift, +no economy, no attempt at cleanliness and order. +Idleness, recklessness, dirt, and wretchedness. +Perhaps the very atmosphere of towns; perhaps +these close, ill-ventilated rooms; most certainly +the poisonous gin-shop, engender a relaxed state +of nerves and muscles, which deprives people +of the spirits ever to attempt to make themselves +a little decent. Then water is so dear, +and dirt so pervading the very atmosphere. +Poor things, they give it up; and acquiesce in, +and become accustomed to it, and "<i>avec un mal +heur sourd dont l'on ne se rend pas compte</i>," +gradually sink and sink into the lowest abyss +of habitual degradation.</p> + +<p>It is difficult to express the painful sensations +which Catherine experienced when she entered +the room of the two sisters. To her the dirty +paper, the carpetless floor, the miserable bed, +the worm-eaten and scanty furniture, the aspect +of extreme poverty which pervaded every thing, +were so shocking, that she could hardly restrain +her tears. Not so Mrs. Danvers.</p> + +<p>Greater poverty, even she, could rarely have +seen; but it was too often accompanied with +what grieved her more, reckless indifference, +and moral degradation. Dirt and disorder, +those agents of the powers of darkness, were +almost sure to be found where there was extreme +want; but here the case was different. +As her experienced eye glanced round the +room, she could perceive that, poor as was the +best, the best <i>was</i> made of it; that a cheerful, +active spirit—the "How to make the best of it"—that +spirit which is like the guardian angel +of the poor, had been busy here.</p> + +<p>The floor, though bare, was clean; the bed, +though so mean, neatly arranged and made; +the grate was bright; the chairs were dusted; +the poor little plenishing neatly put in order. +No dirty garments hanging about the room; +all carefully folded and put away they were; +though she could not, of course, see that, for +there were no half-open drawers of the sloven, +admitting dust and dirt, and offending the eye. +Lettice herself, with hair neatly braided, her +poor worn gown carefully put on, was sitting +by the little table, busy at her work, looking +the very picture of modest industry. Only one +figure offended the nice moral sense of Mrs. +Danvers: that of Myra, who sat there with her +fine hair hanging round her face, in long, dirty, +disheveled ringlets, her feet stretched out and +pushed slip-shod into her shoes. With her +dress half put on, and hanging over her, as +the maids say, "no how," she was leaning +back in the chair, and sewing very languidly +at a very dirty piece of work which she held +in her hand.</p> + +<p>Both sisters started up when the door opened. +Lettice's cheeks flushed with joy, and her +eye sparkled with pleasure as she rose to receive +her guests, brought forward her other +only chair, stirred the fire, and sent the light +of a pleasant blaze through the room. Myra +colored also, but her first action was to stoop +down hastily to pull up the heels of her shoes; +she then east a hurried glance upon her dress, +and arranged it a little—occupied as usual with +herself, her own appearance was the first thought—and +never in her life more disagreeably.</p> + +<p>Catherine shook hands heartily with Lettice, +saying, "We are soon met again, you see;" +and then went up to Myra, and extended her +hand to her. The other took it, but was evidently +so excessively ashamed of her poverty,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span> +and her present appearance, before one who had +seen her in better days, that she could not speak, +or make any other reply to a kind speech of +Catherine's, but by a few unintelligible murmurs.</p> + +<p>"I was impatient to come," said Catherine—she +and Mrs. Danvers having seated themselves +upon the two smaller chairs, while the sisters +sat together upon the larger one—"because, +you know, I must go out of town so very soon, +and I wanted to call upon you, and have a little +chat and talk of old times—and, really—really—" +she hesitated. Dear, good thing, she was +so dreadfully afraid of mortifying either of the +two in their present fallen state.</p> + +<p>"And, really—really," said Mrs. Danvers, +smiling, "out with it, my love—really—really, +Lettice, Catherine feels as I am sure you would +feel if the cases were reversed. She can not +bear the thoughts of her own prosperity, and at +the same time think of your misfortunes. I +told her I was quite sure you would not be hurt +if she did for you, what I was certain you +would have done in such a case for her, and +would let her make you a little more comfortable +before she went. The poor thing's wedding-day +will be quite spoiled by thinking about +you, if you won't, Lettice."</p> + +<p>Lettice stretched out her hand to Catherine +by way of answer; and received in return the +most warm and affectionate squeeze. Myra +was very glad to be made more comfortable—there +was no doubt of that; but half offended, +and determined to be as little obliged as possible. +And then, Catherine going to be married +too. How hard!—every kind of good luck to +be heaped upon <i>her</i>, and she herself so unfortunate +in every way.</p> + +<p>But nobody cared for her ungracious looks. +Catherine knew her of old, and Mrs. Danvers +understood the sort of thing she was in a minute. +Her walk had lain too long amid the +victims of false views and imperfect moral +training, to be surprised at this instance of their +effects. The person who surprised her was +Lettice.</p> + +<p>"Well, then," said Catherine, now quite relieved, +and looking round the room, "where +shall we begin? What will you have? What +do you want most? I shall make you wedding +presents, you see, instead of you making them +to me. When your turn comes you shall have +your revenge."</p> + +<p>"Well," Lettice said, "what must be must +be, and it's nonsense playing at being proud. I +am very much obliged to you, indeed, Catherine, +for thinking of us at this time; and if I must +tell you what I should be excessively obliged to +you for, it is a pair of blankets. Poor Myra +can hardly sleep for the cold."</p> + +<p>"It's not the cold—it's the wretched, hard, +lumpy bed," muttered Myra.</p> + +<p>This hint sent Catherine to the bed-side.</p> + +<p>"Oh, dear! oh, dear!" cried she, piteously, +"poor dear things, how could you sleep at all? +Do they call this a bed? and such blankets! +Poor Myra!" her compassion quite overcoming +her dislike. "No wonder. My goodness! my +goodness! it's very shocking indeed." And the +good young thing could not help crying.</p> + +<p>"Blankets, dear girls! and a mattress, and a +feather bed, and two pillows. How have you +lived through it? And you, poor Myra, used +to be made so much of. Poor girl! I am so +sorry for you."</p> + +<p>And oh! how her heart smote her for all she +had said and thought to Myra's disadvantage. +And oh! how the generous eyes of Lettice +beamed with pleasure as these compassionate +words were addressed to her sister. Myra was +softened and affected. She could almost forgive +Catherine for being so fortunate.</p> + +<p>"You are very kind, indeed, Catherine," she +said.</p> + +<p>Catherine, now quite at her ease, began to +examine into their other wants; and without +asking many questions, merely by peeping about, +and forming her own conclusions, was soon pretty +well aware of what was of the most urgent necessity. +She was now quite upon the fidget to +be gone, that she might order and send in the +things; and ten of the twenty pounds given her +for wedding lace was spent before she and Mrs. +Danvers reached home; that lady laughing, and +lamenting over the wedding gown, which would +certainly not be flounced with Honiton, as Catherine's +good god-mother had intended, and looking +so pleased, contented, and happy, that it did +Catherine's heart good to see her.</p> + + +<h3>CHAPTER IV.</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"The swain in barren deserts with surprise<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sees lilies spring, and sudden verdure rise:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And starts amid the thirsty wilds to hear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">New falls of water murm'ring in his ear."—<span class="smcap">Pope.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>In the evening Mrs. Danvers seemed rather +tired, and the two sat over the fire a long +time, without a single word being uttered; but, +at last, when tea was finished, and they had +both taken their work, Catherine, who had been +in profound meditation all this time, began:</p> + +<p>"My dear Mrs. Danvers, are you rested? +I have a great deal to talk to you about, if you +will let me."</p> + +<p>"I must be very much tired, indeed, Catherine, +when I do not like to hear <i>you</i> talk," was +the kind reply.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Danvers reposed very comfortably in her +arm-chair, with her feet upon a footstool before +the cheerful blazing fire; and now Catherine +drew her chair closer, rested her feet upon the +fender, and seemed to prepare herself for a +regular confidential talk with her beloved old +friend.</p> + +<p>"My dear Mrs. Danvers, you are such a +friend both of my dear mother's and mine, that +I think I may, without scruple, open my whole +heart to you upon a matter in which more than +myself are concerned. If you think me wrong +stop me," said she, laying her hand affectionately<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span> +upon that of her friend, and fixing those honest, +earnest eyes of hers upon her face.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Danvers pressed the hand, and said:</p> + +<p>"My love, whatever you confide to me you +know is sacred; and if I can be of any assistance +to you, dear girl, I think you need not scruple +opening your mind; for you know I am a sort +of general mother-confessor to all my acquaintance, +and am as secret as such a profession demands."</p> + +<p>Catherine lifted up the hand; she held it, +pressed it, and continued to hold it; then she +looked at the fire a little while, and at last +spoke.</p> + +<p>"Did you never in your walk in life observe +one evil under the sun, which appears to me to +be a most crying one in many families, the undue +influence exercised by, and the power allowed +to servants?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, my dear, there are few of the minor +evils—if minor it can be called—that I have +thought productive of more daily discomforts +than that. At times the evils assume a much +greater magnitude, and are very serious indeed. +Alienated hearts—divided families—property to +a large amount unjustly and unrighteously diverted +from its natural channel—and misery, +not to be told, about old age and a dying bed."</p> + +<p>Catherine slightly shuddered, and said:</p> + +<p>"I have not had an opportunity of seeing +much of the world, you know; what you say is +rather what I feared it might be, than what I +have actually observed; but I have had a sort +of divination of what might in future arise. It +is inexplicable to me the power a servant may +gain, and the tyrannical way in which she will +dare to exercise it. The unaccountable way in +which those who have every title to command, +may be brought to obey is scarcely to be believed, +and to me inexplicable."</p> + +<p>"Fear and indolence, my dear. Weak spirits +and a weak body, upon the one side; on the +other, that species of force which want of feeling, +want of delicacy, want of a nice conscience, want +even of an enlarged understanding—which rough +habits and coarse perceptions bestow. Believe +me, dear girl, almost as much power is obtained +in this foolish world by the absence of certain +qualities as by the possession of others. Silly +people think it so nice and easy to govern, and +so hard to obey. It requires many higher +qualities, and much more rule over the spirit to +command obedience than to pay it."</p> + +<p>"Yes, no doubt one does not think enough +of that. Jeremy Taylor, in his fine prayers, has +one for a new married wife just about to enter +a family: he teaches her to pray for 'a right +judgment in all things; not to be annoyed at +trifles; nor discomposed by contrariety of accidents;' +a spirit 'to overcome all my infirmities, +and comply with and bear with the infirmities +of others; giving offense to none, but doing good +to all I can, but I think he should have added +a petition for strength to rule and guide that +portion of the household which falls under her +immediate care with a firm and righteous hand, +not yielding feebly to the undue encroachment +of others, not suffering, through indolence or a +mistaken love of peace, evil habits to creep over +those who look up to us and depend upon us, to +their own infinite injury as well as to our own.' +Ah! that is the part of a woman's duty hardest +to fulfill; and I almost tremble," said the young +bride elect, "when I think how heavy the responsibility; +and how hard I shall find it to acquit +myself as I desire."</p> + +<p>"In this as in other things," answered Mrs. +Danvers, affectionately passing her hand over +her young favorite's smooth and shining hair, +"I have ever observed there is but one portion +of real strength; one force alone by which we +can move mountains. But, in that strength we +assuredly are able to move mountains. Was this +all that you had to say, my dear?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no—but—it is so disagreeable—yet I +think. Did you ever notice how things went on +at home, my dear friend?"</p> + +<p>"Yes—a little I have. One can not help, you +know, if one stays long in a house, seeing the +relation in which the different members of a +family stand to each other."</p> + +<p>"I thought you must have done so; that +makes it easier for me—well, then, <i>that</i> was one +great reason which made me so unwilling to +leave mamma."</p> + +<p>"I understand."</p> + +<p>"There is a vast deal of that sort of tyranny +exercised in our family already. Ever since I +have grown up I have done all in my power to +check it, by encouraging my poor, dear mamma, +to exert a little spirit; but she is so gentle, so +soft, so indulgent, and so affectionate—for even +<i>that</i> comes in her way.... She gets attached +to every thing around her. She can not bear +new faces, she says, and this I think the servants +know, and take advantage of. They venture to +do as they like, because they think it will be too +painful an exertion for her to change them."</p> + +<p>"Yes, my dear, that is exactly as things go +on; not in your family alone, but in numbers that +I could name if I chose. It is a very serious +evil. It amounts to a sin in many households. +The waste, the almost vicious luxury, the idleness +that is allowed! The positive loss of what +might be so much better bestowed upon those +who really want it, to the positive injury of those +who enjoy it! The demoralizing effect of pampered +habits—the sins which are committed +through the temptation of having nothing to do, +will make, I fear, a dark catalogue against the +masters and mistresses of families; who, because +they have money in abundance, and hate trouble, +allow all this misrule, and its attendant ill consequences +upon their dependents. Neglecting +'to rule with diligence,' as the Apostle commands +us, and satisfied, provided they themselves +escape suffering from the ill consequences, except +as far as an overflowing plentiful purse is +concerned. Few people seem to reflect upon +the mischief they may be doing to these their +half-educated fellow creatures by such negligence."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span></p> + +<p>Catherine looked very grave, almost sorrowful, +at this speech—she said:</p> + +<p>"Poor mamma—but she <i>can not</i> help it—indeed +she can not. She is all love, and is gentleness +itself. The blessed one 'who thinketh +no evil.' How can that Randall find the heart +to tease her! as I am sure she does—though +mamma never complains. And then, I am +afraid, indeed, I feel certain, when I am gone +the evil will very greatly increase. You, perhaps, +have observed," added she, lowering her +voice, "that poor papa makes it particularly +difficult in our family—doubly difficult. His +old wounds, his injured arm, his age and infirmities, +make all sorts of little comforts indispensable +to him. He suffers so much bodily, +and he suffers, too, so much from little inconveniences, +that he can not bear to have any thing +done for him in an unaccustomed way. Randall +and Williams have lived with us ever since I was +five years old—when poor papa came back from +Waterloo almost cut to pieces. And he is so +fond of them he will not hear a complaint against +them—not even from mamma. Oh! it is not +her fault—poor, dear mamma!"</p> + +<p>"No, my love, such a dreadful sufferer as the +poor general too often is, makes things very difficult +at times. I understand all that quite well; +but we are still only on the preamble of your +discourse, my Catherine; something more than +vain lamentation is to come of it, I feel sure."</p> + +<p>"Yes, indeed. Dear generous mamma! She +would not hear of my staying with her and giving +up Edgar; nor would she listen to what he was +noble enough to propose, that he should abandon +his profession and come and live at the Hazels, +rather than that I should feel I was tampering +with my duty, for his sake, dear fellow!"</p> + +<p>And the tears stood in Catherine's eyes.</p> + +<p>"Nothing I could say would make her listen +to it. I could hardly be sorry for Edgar's sake. +I knew what a sacrifice it would be upon his +part—more than a woman ought to accept from +a <i>lover</i>, I think—a man in his dotage, as one +may say. Don't you think so, too, ma'am?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, my dear, indeed I do. Well, go on."</p> + +<p>"I have been so perplexed, so unhappy, so +undecided what to do—so sorry to leave this +dear, generous mother to the mercy of those +servants of hers—whose influence, when she is +alone, and with nobody to hearten her up a little, +will be so terribly upon the increase—that I have +not known what to do. But to-day, while I was +dressing for dinner, a sudden, blessed thought +came into my mind—really, just like a flash of +light that seemed to put every thing clear at once—and +it is about that I want to consult you, if +you will let me. That dear Lettice Arnold!—I +knew her from a child. You can not think +what a creature she is. So sensible, so cheerful, +so sweet-tempered, so self-sacrificing, yet so +clever, and firm, and steady, when necessary. +Mamma wants a daughter, and papa wants a +reader and a backgammon prayer. Lettice +Arnold is the very thing."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Danvers made no answer.</p> + +<p>"Don't you think so? Are you not sure? +Don't you see it?" asked poor Catherine, anxiously.</p> + +<p>"Alas! my dear, there is one thing I can +scarcely ever persuade myself to do; and that +is—advise any one to undertake the part of +humble friend."</p> + +<p>"Oh, dear! oh, dear! I know it's a terrible +part in general; and I can't think why."</p> + +<p>"Because neither party in general understands +the nature of the relation, nor the exchange of +duties it implies. For want of proper attention +to this, the post of governess is often rendered so +unsatisfactory to one side, and so very uncomfortable +to the other, but in that case at least +<i>something</i> is defined. In the part of the humble +friend there is really nothing—every thing depends +upon the equity and good-nature of the +first party, and the candor and good-will of the +second. Equity not to exact too much—good-nature +to consult the comfort and happiness of +the dependent. On that dependent's side, candor +in judging of what <i>is</i> exacted; and good-will +cheerfully to do the best in her power to be +amiable and agreeable."</p> + +<p>"I am not afraid of mamma. She will never +be exacting <i>much</i>. She will study the happiness +of all who depend upon her; she only does it +almost too much, I sometimes think, to the +sacrifice of her own comfort, and to the spoiling +of them—and though papa is sometimes so suffering +that he can't help being a little impatient, +yet he is a perfect gentleman, you know. As +for Lettice Arnold, if ever there was a person +who knew 'how to make the best of it,' and sup +cheerfully upon fried onions when she had lost +her piece of roast kid, it is she. Besides, she is +so uniformly good-natured, that it is quite a +pleasure to her to oblige. The only danger +between dearest mamma and Lettice will be—of +their quarreling which shall give up most to +the other. But, joking apart, she is a vast deal +more than I have said—she is a remarkably clever, +spirited girl, and shows it when she is called +upon. You can not think how discreet, how +patient, yet how firm, she can be. Her parents, +poor people, were very difficult to live with, and +were always running wrong. If it had not been +for Lettice, affairs would have got into dreadful +confusion. There is that in her so <i>right</i>, such +an inherent downright sense of propriety and +justice—somehow or other I am confident she +will not let Randall tyrannize over mamma when +I am gone."</p> + +<p>"Really," said Mrs. Danvers, "what you say +seems very reasonable. There are exceptions to +every rule. It certainly is one of mine to have +as little as possible to do in recommending young +women to the situation of humble friends. Yet +in some cases I have seen all the comfort you +anticipate arise to both parties from such a connection; +and I own I never saw a fairer chance +presented than the present; provided Randall +is not too strong for you all; which may be +feared."</p> + +<p>"Well, then, you do not <i>dis</i>advise me to talk<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span> +to mamma about it, and I will write to you as +soon as I possibly can; and you will be kind +enough to negotiate with Lettice, if you approve +of the terms. As for Randall, she shall <i>not</i> be +too hard for me. Now is my hour; I am in +the ascendant, and I will win this battle or +perish; that is, I will tell mamma I <i>won't</i> be +married upon any other terms; and to have +'Miss' married is quite as great a matter of +pride to Mrs. Randall as to that dearest of +mothers."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>The contest with Mrs. Randall was as fierce +as Catherine, in her worst anticipations, could +have expected. She set herself most doggedly +against the plan. It, indeed, militated against +all her schemes. She had intended to have +every thing far more than ever her own way +when "Miss Catherine was gone;" and though +she had no doubt but that she should "keep the +creature in her place," and "teach her there +was only one mistress here" (which phrase +usually means the maid, though it implies the +lady), yet she had a sort of a misgiving about it. +There would be one at her (Mrs. Melwyn's) +ear as well as herself, and at, possibly, her +master's, too, which was of still more importance. +And then "those sort of people are so +artful and cantankerous. Oh! she'd seen enough +of them in her day! Poor servants couldn't have +a moment's peace with a creature like that in +the house, spying about and telling every thing +in the parlor. One can't take a walk, or see a +poor friend, or have a bit of comfort, but all +goes up there. Well, those may put up with +it who like. Here's one as won't, and that's +me myself; and so I shall make bold to tell +Miss Catherine. General and Mrs. Melwyn +must choose between me and the new-comer."</p> + +<p>Poor Catherine! Mrs. Melwyn cried, and +said her daughter was very right; but she was +sure Randall never <i>would</i> bear it. And the +general, with whom Randall had daily opportunity +for private converse while she bound up +his shattered arm, and dressed the old wound, +which was perpetually breaking out afresh, and +discharging splinters of bone, easily talked her +master into the most decided dislike to the +scheme.</p> + +<p>But Catherine stood firm. She had the support +of her own heart and judgment; and the +greater the difficulty, the more strongly she felt +the necessity of the measure. Edgar backed +her, too, with all his might. He could hardly +keep down his vexation at this weakness on one +side, and indignation at the attempted tyranny +on the other, and he said every thing he could +think of to encourage Catherine to persevere.</p> + +<p>She talked the matter well over with her +father. The general was the most testy, cross, +and unreasonable of old men; always out of +humor, because always suffering, and always +jealous of every body's influence and authority, +because he was now too weak and helpless to +rule his family with a rod of iron, such as he, +the greatest of martinets, had wielded in better +days in his regiment and in his household alike. +He suffered himself to be governed by Randall, +and by nobody else; because in yielding to +Randall, there was a sort of consciousness of +the exercise of free will. He <i>ought</i> to be influenced +by his gentle wife, and clever, sensible +daughter; but there was no reason on earth, +but because he <i>chose</i> to do it, that he should +mind what Randall said.</p> + +<p>"I hate the whole pack of them! I know +well enough what sort of a creature you'll bring +among us, Catherine. A whining, methodistical +old maid, with a face like a hatchet, and a figure +as if it had been pressed between two boards, +dressed in a flimsy cheap silk, of a dingy brown +color, with a cap like a grenadier's. Your +mother and she will be sitting moistening their +eyes all day long over the sins of mankind; and, +I'll be bound, my own sins won't be forgotten +among them. Oh! I know the pious creatures, +of old. Nothing they hate like a poor old veteran, +with a naughty word or two in his mouth +now and then. Never talk to me, Catherine, +I can't abide such cattle."</p> + +<p>"Dearest papa, what a picture you <i>do</i> draw! +just to frighten yourself. Why, Lettice Arnold +is only about nineteen, I believe; and though +she's not particularly pretty, she's the pleasantest-looking +creature you ever saw. And as for +bemoaning herself over her neighbors' sins, I'll +be bound she's not half such a Methodist as +Randall."</p> + +<p>"Randall is a very pious, good woman, I'd +have you to know, Miss Catherine."</p> + +<p>"I'm sure I hope she is, papa; but you must +own she makes a great fuss about it. And I +really believe, the habit she has of whispering +and turning up the whites of her eyes, when she +hears of a neighbor's peccadillos, is one thing +which sets you so against the righteous, dearest +papa; now, you know it is."</p> + +<p>"You're a saucy baggage. How old is this +thing you're trying to put upon us, did you +say?"</p> + +<p>"Why, about nineteen, or, perhaps, twenty. +And then, who's to read to you, papa, when I +am gone, and play backgammon? You know +mamma must <i>not</i> read, on account of her chest, +and she plays so badly, you say, at backgammon; +and it's so dull, husband and wife playing, +you know." (Poor Mrs. Melwyn dreaded, of +all things, backgammon; she invariably got +ridiculed if she played ill, and put her husband +into a passion if she beat him. Catherine had +long taken this business upon herself.)</p> + +<p>"Does she play backgammon tolerably? and +can she read without drawling or galloping?"</p> + +<p>"Just at your own pace, papa, whatever that +may be. Besides, you can only try her; she's +easily sent away if you and mamma don't like +her. And then think, she is a poor clergyman's +daughter; and it would be quite a kind action."</p> + +<p>"A poor parson's! It would have been more +to the purpose if you had said a poor officer's. +I pay tithes enough to the black coated gentlemen, +without being bothered with their children,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span> +and who ever pays tithes to us, I wonder? +I don't see what right parsons have to marry at +all; and then, forsooth, come and ask other +people to take care of their brats!"</p> + +<p>"Ah! but she's not to be taken care of for +nothing; only think what a comfort she'll be."</p> + +<p>"To your mamma, perhaps, but not to me. +And <i>she's</i> always the first person to be considered +in this house, I know very well; and I know +very well who it is that dresses the poor old +soldier's wounds, and studies his comforts—and +he'll study hers; and I won't have her vexed +to please any of you."</p> + +<p>"But why should she be vexed? It's nothing +to <i>her</i>. <i>She's</i> not to live with Lettice. And I +must say, if Randall sets herself against this +measure, she behaves in a very unreasonable +and unworthy manner, in my opinion."</p> + +<p>"Hoity toity! <i>To</i> be sure; and who's behaving +in an unreasonable and unworthy manner +now, I wonder, abusing her behind her back, a +worthy, attached creature, whose sole object it +is to study the welfare of us all? She's told me +so a thousand times."</p> + +<p>"I daresay. Well, now, papa, listen to me. +I'm going away from you for good—your little +Catherine. Just for once grant me this as a +favor. Only try Lettice. I'm sure you'll like +her; and if, after she's been here a quarter of a +year, you don't wish to keep her, why part with +her, and I'll promise not to say a word about it. +Randall has her good qualities, I suppose, like +the rest of the world; but Randall must be +taught to keep her place, and that's not in this +drawing-room. And it's <i>here</i> you want Lettice, +not in your dressing-room. Randall shall have +it all her own way <i>there</i>, and that <i>ought</i> to content +her. And besides, papa, do you know, I +can't marry Edgar till you have consented, because +I can not leave mamma and you with nobody +to keep you company."</p> + +<p>"Edgar and you be d——d! Well, do as you +like. The sooner you're out of the house the +better. I shan't have my own way till you're +gone. You're a sad coaxing baggage, but you +<i>have</i> a pretty face of your own, Miss Catherine."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>If the debate upon the subject ran high at +the Hazels, so did it in the little humble apartment +which the two sisters occupied.</p> + +<p>"A humble friend! No," cried Myra, "that +I would never, never be; rather die of hunger +first."</p> + +<p>"Dying of hunger is a very horrible thing," +said Lettice, quietly, "and much more easily +said than done. We have not, God be thanked +for it, ever been quite so badly off as that; but +I have stood near enough to the dreadful gulf +to look down, and to sound its depth and its +darkness. I am very thankful, deeply thankful, +for this offer, which I should gladly accept, only +what is to become of you?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! never mind me. It's the fashion now, +I see, for every body to think of <i>you</i>, and nobody +to think of me. I'm not worth caring for, now +those who cared for me are gone. Oh! pray, +if you like to be a domestic slave yourself, let +<i>me</i> be no hindrance."</p> + +<p>"A domestic slave! why should I be a domestic +slave? I see no slavery in the case."</p> + +<p>"<i>I</i> call it slavery, whatever you may do, to +have nothing to do all day but play toad-eater +and flatterer to a good-for-nothing old woman; +to bear all her ill-humors, and be the butt for all +her caprices. That's what humble friends are +expected to do, I believe; what else are they +hired for?"</p> + +<p>"I should neither toady nor flatter, I hope," +said Lettice; "and as for bearing people's ill-humors, +and being now and then the sport of +their caprices, why that, as you say, is very +disagreeable, yet, perhaps, it is what we must +rather expect. But Mrs. Melwyn, I have always +heard, is the gentlest of human beings. +And if she is like Catherine, she must be free +from caprice, and nobody could help quite loving +her."</p> + +<p>"Stuff!—love! love! A humble friend love +her <i>un</i>humble friend; for I suppose one must +not venture to call one's mistress a tyrant. Oh, +no, a friend! a dear friend!" in a taunting, +ironical voice.</p> + +<p>"Whomever it might be my fate to live with, +I should <i>try</i> to love; for I believe if one tries to +love people, one soon finds something lovable +about them, and Mrs. Melwyn, I feel sure, I +should soon love very much."</p> + +<p>"So like you! ready to love any thing and +every thing. I verily believe if there was nothing +else to love but the little chimney-sweeper +boy, you'd fall to loving him, rather than love +nobody."</p> + +<p>"I am sure that's true enough," said Lettice, +laughing; "I have more than once felt very +much inclined to love the little boy who carries +the soot-bag for the man who sweeps these +chimneys—such a saucy-looking, little sooty +rogue."</p> + +<p>"As if a person's love <i>could</i> be worth having," +continued the sister, "who is so ready to +love any body."</p> + +<p>"No, that I deny. Some few people I <i>do</i> find +it hard to love."</p> + +<p>"Me for one."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Myra!"</p> + +<p>"Well, I beg your pardon. You're very kind +to me. But I'll tell you who it will be impossible +for you to love—if such a thing can be: +that's that testy, cross, old general."</p> + +<p>"I don't suppose I shall have much to do +with the old general, if I go."</p> + +<p>"<i>If</i> you go. Oh, you're sure to go. You're +so sanguine; every new prospect is so promising. +But pardon me, you seem quite to have +forgotten that reading to the old general, and +playing backgammon with him, are among your +specified employments."</p> + +<p>"Well, I don't see much harm in it if they +are. A man can't be very cross with one when +one's reading to him—and as for the backgammon, +I mean to lose every game, if that will +please him."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, a man can't be cross with a reader? +I wish you knew as much of the world as I do, +and had heard people read. Why, nothing on +earth puts one in such a fidget. I'm sure I've +been put into such a worry by people's way of +reading, that I could have pinched them. Really, +Lettice, your simplicity would shame a child of +five years old."</p> + +<p>"Well, I shall do my best, and besides I shall +take care to set my chair so far off that I can't +get pinched, at least; and as for a poor, ailing, +suffering old man being a little impatient and +cross, why one can't expect to get fifty pounds +a year for just doing nothing.—I do suppose it +is expected that I should bear a few of these +things in place of Mrs. Melwyn; and I don't +see why I should not."</p> + +<p>"Oh, dear! Well, my love, you're quite made +for the place, I see; you always had something +of the spaniel in you, or the walnut-tree, or any +of those things which are the better for being ill-used. +It was quite a proverb with our poor +mother, 'a worm will turn, but not Lettice.'"</p> + +<p>Lettice felt very much inclined to turn now. +But the mention of her mother—that mother +whose mismanagement and foolish indulgence +had contributed so much to poor Myra's faults—faults +for which she now paid so heavy a penalty—silenced +the generous girl, and she made +no answer.</p> + +<p>No answer, let it proceed from never so good +a motive, makes cross people often more cross; +though perhaps upon the whole it is the best +plan.</p> + +<p>So Myra in a still more querulous voice went +on:</p> + +<p>"This room will be rather dismal all by one's +self, and I don't know how I'm to go about, up +and down, fetch and carry, and work as you +are able to do.... I was never used to it. It +comes very hard upon me." And she began to +cry.</p> + +<p>"Poor Myra! dear Myra! don't cry: I never +intended to leave you. Though I talked as if I +did, it was only in the way of argument, because +I thought more might be said for the kind of life +than you thought; and I felt sure if people were +tolerably kind and candid, I could get along very +well and make myself quite comfortable. Dear +me! after such hardships as we have gone +through, a little would do that. But do you +think, poor dear girl, I could have a moment's +peace, and know you were here alone? No, +no."</p> + +<p>And so when she went in the evening to +carry her answer to Mrs. Danvers, who had +conveyed to her Catherine's proposal, Lettice +said, "that she should have liked exceedingly to +accept Catherine's offer, and was sure she should +have been very happy herself, and would have +done every thing in her power to make Mrs. +Melwyn happy, but that it was impossible to +leave her sister."</p> + +<p>"If that is your only difficulty, my dear, don't +make yourself uneasy about that. I have found +a place for your sister which I think she will like +very well. It is with Mrs. Fisher, the great +milliner in Dover-street, where she will be taken +care of, and may be very comfortable. Mrs. +Fisher is a most excellent person, and very anxious, +not only about the health and comfort of +those she employs, but about their good behavior +and their security from evil temptation. +Such a beautiful girl as your sister is, lives in +perpetual danger, exposed as she is without protection +in this great town."</p> + +<p>"But Myra has such an abhorrence of servitude, +as she calls it—such an independent high +spirit—I fear she will never like it."</p> + +<p>"It will be very good for her, whether she +likes it or not. Indeed, my dear, to speak sincerely, +the placing your sister out of danger in +the house of Mrs. Fisher ought to be a decisive +reason with you for accepting Catherine's proposal—even +did you dislike it much more than +you seem to do."</p> + +<p>"Oh! to tell the truth, I should like the plan +very much indeed—much more than I have +wished to say, on account of Myra: but she +never, never will submit to be ruled, I fear, and +make herself happy where, of course, she must +obey orders and follow regulations, whether she +likes them or not. Unfortunately, poor dear, +she has been so little accustomed to be contradicted."</p> + +<p>"Well, then, it is high time she should begin; +for contradicted, sooner or later, we all of us are +certain to be. Seriously, again, my dear, good +Lettice—I must call you Lettice—your innocence +of heart prevents you from knowing what +snares surround a beautiful young woman like +your sister. I like you best, I own; but I have +thought much more of her fate than yours, upon +that account. Such a situation as is offered to +you she evidently is quite unfit to fill: but I +went—the very day Catherine and I came to +your lodgings and saw you both—to my good +friend Mrs. Fisher, and, with great difficulty, +have persuaded her at last to take your sister. +She disliked the idea very much; but she's an +excellent woman: and when I represented to +her the peculiar circumstances of the case, she +promised she would consider the matter. She +took a week to consider of it—for she is a very +cautious person is Mrs. Fisher; and some people +call her very cold and severe. However, she +has decided in our favor, as I expected she would. +Her compassion always gets the better of her +prudence, when the two are at issue. And so +you would not dislike to go to Mrs. Melwyn's?"</p> + +<p>"How could I? Why, after what we have +suffered, it must be like going into Paradise."</p> + +<p>"Nay, nay—a little too fast. No dependent +situation is ever exactly a Paradise. I should +be sorry you saw things in a false light, and +should be disappointed."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, I do not wish to do that—I don't +think—thank you for the great kindness and interest +you are so kind as to show by this last remark—but +I think I never in my life enjoyed one +day of unmixed happiness since I was quite a +little child; and I have got so entirely into the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span> +habit of thinking that every thing in the world +goes so—that when I say Paradise, or quite +happy, or so on, it is always in a certain sense—a +comparative sense."</p> + +<p>"I am glad to see you so reasonable—that is +one sure way to be happy; but you will find +your crosses at the Hazels. The general is not +very sweet-tempered; and even dear mild Mrs. +Melwyn is not perfect."</p> + +<p>"Why, madam, what am I to expect? If I +can not bear a few disagreeable things, what do +I go there for? Not to be fed, and housed, and +paid at other people's expense, just that I may +please my own humors all the time. That +<i>would</i> be rather an unfair bargain, I think. No: +I own there are some things I could not and +would not bear for any consideration; but there +are a great many others that I can, and I shall, +and I will—and do my best, too, to make happy, +and be happy; and, in short, I don't feel the +least afraid."</p> + +<p>"No more you need—you right-spirited creature," +said Mrs. Danvers, cordially.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Many were the difficulties, endless the objections +raised by Myra against the proposed plan +of going to Mrs. Fisher. Such people's objections +and difficulties are indeed endless. In their +weakness and their selfishness, they <i>like</i> to be +objects of pity—they take a comfort in bothering +and wearying people with their interminable +complaints. Theirs is not the sacred outbreak +of the overloaded heart—casting itself upon another +heart for support and consolation under +suffering that is too strong and too bitter to be +endured alone. Sacred call for sympathy and +consolation, and rarely made in vain! It is the +wearying and futile attempt to cast the burden +of sorrow and suffering upon others, instead of +seeking their assistance in enduring it one's self. +Vain and useless endeavor, and which often bears +hard upon the sympathy even of the kindest and +truest hearts!</p> + +<p>Ineffectually did Lettice endeavor to represent +matters under a cheerful aspect. Nothing was +of any avail. Myra would persist in lamenting, +and grieving, and tormenting herself and her sister; +bewailing the cruel fate of both—would +persist in recapitulating every objection which +could be made to the plan, and every evil consequence +which could possibly ensue. Not that +she had the slightest intention in the world of +refusing her share in it, if she would have suffered +herself to say so. She rather liked the +idea of going to that fashionable <i>modiste</i>, Mrs. +Fisher: she had the "<i>âme de dentelle</i>" with +which Napoleon reproached poor Josephine. +There was something positively delightful to her +imagination in the idea of dwelling among rich +silks, Brussels laces, ribbons, and feathers; it was +to her what woods, and birds, and trees were to +her sister. She fancied herself elegantly dressed, +walking about a show-room, filled with all sorts +of beautiful things; herself, perhaps, the most +beautiful thing in it, and the object of a sort of +flattering interest, through the melancholy cloud +"upon her fine features." Nay, her romantic +imagination traveled still farther—gentlemen +sometimes come up with ladies to show-rooms,—who +could tell? Love at first sight was not +altogether a dream. Such things <i>had</i> happened.... +Myra had read plenty of old, rubbishy novels +when she was a girl.</p> + +<p>Such were the comfortable thoughts she kept +to herself; but it was, as I said, one endless complaining +externally.</p> + +<p>Catherine insisted upon being allowed to advance +the money for the necessary clothes, which, +to satisfy the delicacy of the one and the pride of +the other, she agreed should be repaid by installments +as their salaries became due. The sale +of their few possessions put a sovereign or so +into the pocket of each, and thus the sisters +parted; the lovely Myra to Mrs. Fisher's, and +Lettice, by railway, to the Hazels.</p> + +<h4>(<i>To be continued.</i>)</h4> + + +<p><a name="Page_35a" id="Page_35a"></a></p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>ERUPTION OF MOUNT ETNA IN 1669.</h2> + + +<p>"For many days previous the sky had been +overcast, and the weather, notwithstanding +the season, oppressively hot. The thunder and +lightning were incessant, and the eruption was +at length ushered in by a violent shock of an +earthquake, which leveled most of the houses +at Nicolosi. Two great chasms then opened +near that village, from whence ashes were +thrown out in such quantities, that, in a few +weeks, a double hill, called Monte Rosso, 450 +feet high, was formed, and the surrounding +country covered to such a depth, that, nothing +but the tops of the trees could be seen. The +lava ran in a stream fifty feet deep, and four +miles wide, overwhelming in its course fourteen +towns and villages; and had it not separated +before reaching Catania, that city would have +been virtually annihilated as were Herculaneum +and Pompeii. The walls had been purposely +raised to a height of sixty feet, to repel the +danger if possible, but the torrent accumulated +behind them, and poured down in a cascade of +fire upon the town. It still continued to advance, +and, after a course of fifteen miles, ran +into the sea, where it formed a mole 600 yards +long. The walls were neither thrown down +nor fused by contact with the ignited matter, +and have since been discovered by Prince Biscari, +when excavating in search of a well known +to have existed in a certain spot, and from the +steps of which the lava may now be seen curling +over like a monstrous billow in the very act of +falling.</p> + +<p>"The great crater fell in during this eruption, +and a fissure, six feet wide and twelve +miles long, opened in the plain of S. Leo. In +the space of six weeks, the habitations of 27,000 +persons were destroyed, a vast extent of the +most fertile land rendered desolate for ages, the +course of rivers changed, and the whole face of +the district transformed."—<i>Marquis of Ormonde's +Autumn in Sicily.</i><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span></p> + + +<h3>VOLCANIC ERUPTION—MOUNT ETNA IN 1849.</h3> + +<p>"The mass extended for a breadth of about +1000 paces, advancing gradually, more +or less rapidly according to the nature of the +ground over which it moved, but making steady +progress. It had formed two branches, one +going in a northerly, and the other in a westerly +direction. No danger beyond loss of trees or +crops was apprehended from the former, but the +second was moving in a direct line for the town +of Bronte, and to it we confined our attention. +The townspeople, on their part, had not been +idle. I have before mentioned the clearance +which they made of their goods, but precautions +had also been taken outside the town, with a +view, if possible, to arrest the progress of the +lava; and a very massive wall of coarse loose +work was in the course of erection across a +valley down which the stream must flow. We +heard afterward, that the impelling power was +spent before the strength of this work was put +to the test, but had it failed, Bronte had been +lost. It is not easy to convey by words any +very accurate idea. The lava appeared to be +from thirty to forty feet in depth, and some +notion of its aspect and progress may be formed +by imagining a hill of loose stones of all sizes, +the summit or brow of which is continually falling +to the base, and as constantly renewed by +unseen pressure from behind. Down it came in +large masses, each leaving behind it a fiery +track, as the red-hot interior was for a moment +or two exposed. The impression most strongly +left on my mind was that of its irresistible force. +It did not advance rapidly; there was no difficulty +in approaching it, as I did, closely, and +taking out pieces of red-hot stone; the rattling +of the blocks overhead gave ample notice of +their descent down the inclined face of the +stream, and a few paces to the rear, or aside, +were quite enough to take me quite clear of +them; but still onward, onward it came, foot by +foot it encroached on the ground at its base, +changing the whole face of the country, leaving +hills where formerly valleys had been, overwhelming +every work of man that it encountered +in its progress, and leaving all behind one black, +rough, and monotonous mass of hard and barren +lava. It had advanced considerably during the +night. On the previous evening I had measured +the distance from the base of the moving hill to +the walls of a deserted house which stood, surrounded +by trees, at about fifty yards off, and, +though separated from it by a road, evidently +exposed to the full power of the stream. Not +a trace of it was now left, and it was difficult +to make a guess at where it had been. The +owners of the adjacent lands were busied in all +directions felling the timber that stood in the +line of the advancing fire, but they could not in +many instances do it fast enough to save their +property from destruction; and it was not a +little interesting to watch the effect produced +on many a goodly tree, first thoroughly dried by +the heat of the mass, and, in a few minutes after +it had been reached by the lava, bursting into +flames at the base, and soon prostrate and destroyed. +It being Sunday, all the population +had turned out to see what progress the enemy +was making, and prayers and invocations to a +variety of saints were every where heard around. +'Chiamate Sant' Antonio, Signor,' said one +woman eagerly to me, 'per l'amor di Dio, chiamate +la Santa Maria.' Many females knelt +around, absorbed in their anxiety and devotion, +while the men generally stood in silence gazing +in dismay at the scene before them. Our guide +was a poor fiddler thrown out of employment +by the strict penance enjoined with a view to +avert the impending calamity, dancing and music +being especially forbidden, even had any one +under such circumstances been inclined to indulge +in them."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>The Marquis of Ormonde was adventurous +enough, despite the fate of Empedocles and of +Pliny, to ascend in the evening to see the Bocca +di Fuoco, which is at an elevation of about +6000 feet. The sight which met his eyes was, +he tells us, and we may well believe it, one of +the grandest and most awful it had ever been +his fortune to witness:</p> + +<blockquote><p>"The evening had completely closed in, and +it was perfectly dark, so that there was nothing +which could in any way injure or weaken the +effect. The only thing to which I can compare +it is, as far as can be judged from representations +of such scenes, the blowing up of some +enormous vessel of war, the effect being permanent +instead of momentary only. Directly facing +us was the chasm in the mountain's side from +which the lava flowed in a broad stream of +liquid fire; masses of it had been forced up on +each side, forming, as it got comparatively cool, +black, uneven banks, the whole realizing the +poetic description of Phlegethon in the most +vivid manner. The flames ascended to a considerable +height from the abyss, and high above +them the air was constantly filled with large +fiery masses, projected to a great height, and +meeting on their descent a fresh supply, the +roar of the flames and crash of the falling blocks +being incessant. Advancing across a valley +which intervened, we ascended another hill, and +here commanded a view of the ground on which +many of the ejected stones fell, and, though well +to windward, the small ashes fell thickly around +us. The light was sufficient, even at the distance +we stood, to enable us to read small print, +and to write with the greatest ease. The thermometer +stood at about 40°, but, cold though +it was, it was some time before we could resolve +to take our last look at this extraordinary +sight, and our progress, after we had done so, +was retarded by the constant stoppages made +by us to watch the beautiful effect of the light, +as seen through the <i>Bosco</i>, which we had entered +on our return."—<i>Marquis of Ormonde's Autumn +in Sicily.</i></p></blockquote><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>AMERICAN LITERATURE.</h2> + + +<p>We believe it was M. l'Abbé Raynal who +said that America had not yet produced a +single man of genius. The productions now +under our notice will do more to relieve her +from this imputation than the reply of President +Jefferson:</p> + +<blockquote><p>"When we have existed," said that gentleman, "so +long as the Greeks did before they produced Homer, the +Romans Virgil, the French a Racine and a Voltaire, the +English a Shakspeare and a Milton, we shall inquire +from what unfriendly causes it has proceeded that the +other countries of Europe, and quarters of the earth, +shall not have inscribed any poet of ours on the roll of +fame."</p></blockquote> + +<p>The ingenuity of this defense is more apparent +than its truth; for although the existence of +America, as a separate nation, is comparatively +recent, it must not be forgotten that the origin +of her people is identical with that of our own. +Their language is the same; they have always +had advantages in regard of literature precisely +similar to those which we now enjoy; they have +free trade, and a little more, in all our best +standard authors. There is, therefore, no analogy +whatever between their condition and that +of the other nations with whom the attempt has +been made to contrast them. With a literature +ready-made, as it were, to their hand, America +had never to contend against any difficulties +such as they encountered. Beyond the ballads +of the Troubadours and Trouveres, France had +no stock either of literature or of traditions to +begin upon; the language of Rome was foreign +to its people; Greece had but the sixteen letters +of Cadmus; the literature of England struggled +through the rude chaos of Anglo-Saxon, Norman, +French, and monkish Latin. If these difficulties +in pursuit of knowledge be compared with the +advantages of America, we think it must be +admitted that the president had the worst of the +argument.</p> + +<p>But although America enjoys all these advantages, +it can not be denied that her social condition +presents impediments of a formidable +character toward the cultivation of the higher +and more refined branches of literature. Liberty, +equality, and fraternity are not quite so favorable +to the cultivation of elegant tastes as might be +imagined; where every kind of social rank is +obliterated, the field of observation, which is the +province of fiction, becomes proportionately narrow; +and although human nature must be the +same under every form of government, the liberty +of a thorough democracy by no means +compensates for its vulgarity. It might be +supposed that the very obliteration of all grades +of rank, and the consequent impossibility of acquiring +social distinction, would have a direct +tendency to turn the efforts of genius in directions +where the acquisition of fame might be supposed +to compensate for more substantial rewards; and +when men could no longer win their way to a +coronet, they would redouble their exertions to +obtain the wreath. The history of literature, +however, teaches us the reverse: its most brilliant +lights have shone in dark and uncongenial +times. Amid the clouds of bigotry and oppression, +in the darkest days of tyranny and demoralization, +their lustre has been the most brilliant. +Under the luxurious tyranny of the empire, +Virgil and Horace sang their immortal strains; +the profligacy of Louis the Fourteenth produced +a Voltaire and a Rosseau; amid the oppression +of his country grew and flourished the gigantic +intellect of Milton; Ireland, in the darkest times +of her gloomy history, gave birth to the imperishable +genius of Swift; it was less the liberty +of Athens than the tyranny of Philip, which made +Demosthenes an orator; and of the times which +produced our great dramatists it is scarcely +necessary to speak. The proofs, in short, are +numberless. Be this, however, as it may, the +character of American literature which has +fallen under our notice must demonstrate to +every intelligent mind, what immense advantages +she has derived from those sources which +the advocates of her claims would endeavor to +repudiate. There is scarcely a page which +does not contain evidence how largely she has +availed herself of the learning and labors of others.</p> + +<p>We do not blame her for this; far from it. +We only say that, having reaped the benefit, it +is unjust to deny the obligation; and that in +discussing her literary pretensions, the plea +which has been put forward in her behalf is +untenable.—<i>Dublin University Magazine.</i></p> + + + +<p><a name="Page_37a" id="Page_37a"></a></p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>MILKING IN AUSTRALIA.</h2> + + +<p>This is a very serious operation. First, say +at four o'clock in the morning, you drive +the cows into the stock-yard, where the calves +have been penned up all the previous night in a +hutch in one corner. Then you have to commence +a chase after the first cow, who, with a +perversity common to Australian females, expects +to be pursued two or three times round +the yard, ankle deep in dust or mud, according +to the season, with loud halloas and a thick stick. +This done, she generally proceeds up to the <i>fail</i>, +a kind of pillory, and permits her neck to be +made fast. The cow safe in the fail, her near +hind leg is stretched out to its full length, and +tied to a convenient post with the universal +cordage of Australia, a piece of green hide. At +this stage, in ordinary cases, the milking commences; +but it was one of the hobbies of Mr. +Jumsorew, a practice I have never seen followed +in any other part of the colony, that the cow's +tail should be held tight during the operation. +This arduous duty I conscientiously performed +for some weeks, until it happened one day that +a young heifer slipped her head out of an ill-fastened +fail, upset milkman and milkpail, +charged the head-stockman, who was unloosing +the calves, to the serious damage of a new pair +of fustians, and ended, in spite of all my efforts, +in clearing the top rail of the stock-yard, leaving +me flat and flabbergasted at the foot of the fence.—<i>From +"Scenes in the Life of a Bushman" (Unpublished.)</i><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3>[From Household Words.]</h3> + +<h2>LIZZIE LEIGH.</h2> + + +<h3>IN FOUR CHAPTERS.—CHAPTER I</h3> + +<p>When Death is present in a household on a +Christmas Day, the very contrast between +the time as it now is, and the day as it has often +been, gives a poignancy to sorrow—a more utter +blankness to the desolation. James Leigh +died just as the far-away bells of Rochdale +church were ringing for morning service on +Christmas Day, 1836. A few minutes before +his death, he opened his already glazing eyes, +and made a sign to his wife, by the faint motion +of his lips, that he had yet something to say. +She stooped close down, and caught the broken +whisper, "I forgive her, Anne! May God forgive +me."</p> + +<p>"Oh my love, my dear! only get well, and +I will never cease showing my thanks for those +words. May God in heaven bless thee for saying +them. Thou'rt not so restless, my lad! +may be—Oh God!"</p> + +<p>For even while she spoke, he died.</p> + +<p>They had been two-and-twenty years man +and wife; for nineteen of those years their life +had been as calm and happy, as the most perfect +uprightness on the one side, and the most complete +confidence and loving submission on the +other, could make it. Milton's famous line +might have been framed and hung up as the +rule of their married life, for he was truly the +interpreter, who stood between God and her; +she would have considered herself wicked if she +had ever dared even to think him austere, +though as certainly as he was an upright man, +so surely was he hard, stern, and inflexible. +But for three years the moan and the murmur +had never been out of her heart; she had rebelled +against her husband as against a tyrant +with a hidden, sullen rebellion, which tore up +the old landmarks of wifely duty and affection, +and poisoned the fountains whence gentlest love +and reverence had once been forever springing.</p> + +<p>But those last blessed words replaced him on +his throne in her heart, and called out penitent +anguish for all the bitter estrangement of later +years. It was this which made her refuse all +the entreaties of her sons, that she would see +the kind-hearted neighbors, who called on their +way from church, to sympathize and condole. +No! she would stay with the dead husband that +had spoken tenderly at last, if for three years +he had kept silence; who knew but what, if +she had only been more gentle and less angrily +reserved he might have relented earlier—and +in time!</p> + +<p>She sat rocking herself to and fro by the side +of the bed, while the footsteps below went in +and out; she had been in sorrow too long to +have any violent burst of deep grief now; the +furrows were well worn in her cheeks, and the +tears flowed quietly, if incessantly, all the day +long. But when the winter's night drew on, +and the neighbors had gone away to their homes, +she stole to the window, and gazed out, long +and wistfully, over the dark, gray moors. She +did not hear her son's voice, as he spoke to her +from the door, nor his footstep, as he drew +nearer. She started when he touched her.</p> + +<p>"Mother! come down to us. There's no +one but Will and me. Dearest mother, we do +so want you." The poor lad's voice trembled, +and he began to cry. It appeared to require +an effort on Mrs. Leigh's part to tear herself +away from the window, but with a sigh she +complied with his request.</p> + +<p>The two boys (for though Will was nearly +twenty-one, she still thought of him as a lad) +had done every thing in their power to make +the house-place comfortable for her. She herself, +in the old days before her sorrow, had +never made a brighter fire or a cleaner hearth, +ready for her husband's return home, than now +awaited her. The tea-things were all put out, and +the kettle was boiling; and the boys had calmed +their grief down into a kind of sober cheerfulness. +They paid her every attention they could +think of, but received little notice on her part; +she did not resist—she rather submitted to all +their arrangements; but they did not seem to +touch her heart.</p> + +<p>When tea was ended—it was merely the form +of tea that had been gone through—Will moved +the things away to the dresser. His mother +leant back languidly in her chair.</p> + +<p>"Mother, shall Tom read you a chapter? +He's a better scholar than I."</p> + +<p>"Ay, lad!" said she, almost eagerly. "That's +it. Read me the Prodigal Son. Ay, ay, lad. +Thank thee."</p> + +<p>Tom found the chapter, and read it in the +high-pitched voice which is customary in village-schools. +His mother bent forward, her +lips parted, her eyes dilated; her whole body +instinct with eager attention. Will sat with his +head depressed, and hung down. He knew why +that chapter had been chosen; and to him it +recalled the family's disgrace. When the reading +was ended, he still hung down his head in +gloomy silence. But her face was brighter +than it had been before for the day. Her eyes +looked dreamy, as if she saw a vision; and by +and by she pulled the Bible toward her, and +putting her finger underneath each word, began +to read them aloud in a low voice to herself; +she read again the words of bitter sorrow and +deep humiliation; but most of all she paused +and brightened over the father's tender reception +of the repentant prodigal.</p> + +<p>So passed the Christmas evening in the Upclose +Farm.</p> + +<p>The snow had fallen heavily over the dark +waving moorland, before the day of the funeral. +The black, storm-laden dome of heaven lay +very still and close upon the white earth, as +they carried the body forth out of the house +which had known his presence so long as its +ruling power. Two and two the mourners followed, +making a black procession in their winding +march over the unbeaten snow, to Milne-row +church—now lost in some hollow of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span> +bleak moors, now slowly climbing the heaving +ascents. There was no long tarrying after the +funeral, for many of the neighbors who accompanied +the body to the grave had far to go, and +the great white flakes which came slowly down, +were the boding forerunners of a heavy storm. +One old friend alone accompanied the widow +and her sons to their home.</p> + +<p>The Upclose Farm had belonged for generations +to the Leighs; and yet its possession +hardly raised them above the rank of laborers. +There was the house and outbuildings, all of an +old-fashioned kind, and about seven acres of +barren, unproductive land, which they had never +possessed capital enough to improve; indeed, +they could hardly rely upon it for subsistence; +and it had been customary to bring up the sons +to some trade—such as a wheelwright's, or +blacksmith's.</p> + +<p>James Leigh had left a will, in the possession +of the old man who accompanied them home. +He read it aloud. James had bequeathed the +farm to his faithful wife, Anne Leigh, for her +life-time; and afterward, to his son William. +The hundred and odd pounds in the savings'-bank +was to accumulate for Thomas.</p> + +<p>After the reading was ended, Anne Leigh sat +silent for a time; and then she asked to speak +to Samuel Orme alone. The sons went into +the back-kitchen, and thence strolled out into +the fields, regardless of the driving snow. The +brothers were dearly fond of each other, although +they were very different in character. +Will, the elder, was like his father, stern, reserved, +and scrupulously upright. Tom (who +was ten years younger) was gentle and delicate +as a girl, both in appearance and character. +He had always clung to his mother and dreaded +his father. They did not speak as they walked, +for they were only in the habit of talking about +facts, and hardly knew the more sophisticated +language applied to the description of feelings.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile their mother had taken hold of +Samuel Orme's arm with her trembling hand.</p> + +<p>"Samuel, I must let the farm—I must."</p> + +<p>"Let the farm! What's come o'er the +woman?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Samuel!" said she, her eyes swimming +in tears, "I'm just fain to go and live in Manchester. +I mun let the farm."</p> + +<p>Samuel looked and pondered, but did not +speak for some time. At last he said,</p> + +<p>"If thou hast made up thy mind, there's no +speaking again it; and thou must e'en go. +Thou'lt be sadly pottered wi' Manchester ways; +but that's not my look-out. Why, thou'lt have +to buy potatoes, a thing thou hast never done +afore in all thy born life. Well! it's not my +look-out. It's rather for me than again me. +Our Jenny is going to be married to Tom Higginbotham, +and he was speaking of wanting a +bit of land to begin upon. His father will be +dying sometime, I reckon, and then he'll step +into the Croft Farm. But meanwhile—"</p> + +<p>"Then, thou'lt let the farm," said she, still +as eagerly as ever.</p> + +<p>"Ay, ay, he'll take it fast enough, I've a +notion. But I'll not drive a bargain with thee +just now; it would not be right; we'll wait a +bit."</p> + +<p>"No; I can not wait, settle it out at once."</p> + +<p>"Well, well; I'll speak to Will about it. I +see him out yonder. I'll step to him, and talk +it over."</p> + +<p>Accordingly he went and joined the two lads, +and without more ado, began the subject to them.</p> + +<p>"Will, thy mother is fain to go live in Manchester, +and covets to let the farm. Now, I'm +willing to take it for Tom Higginbotham; but I +like to drive a keen bargain, and there would +be no fun chaffering with thy mother just now. +Let thee and me buckle to, my lad! and try +and cheat each other; it will warm us this cold +day."</p> + +<p>"Let the farm!" said both the lads at once, +with infinite surprise. "Go live in Manchester!"</p> + +<p>When Samuel Orme found that the plan had +never before been named to either Will or Tom, +he would have nothing to do with it, he said, +until they had spoken to their mother; likely +she was "dazed" by her husband's death; he +would wait a day or two, and not name it to +any one; not to Tom Higginbotham himself, or +may be he would set his heart upon it. The +lads had better go in and talk it over with their +mother. He bade them good day, and left +them.</p> + +<p>Will looked very gloomy, but he did not +speak till they got near the house. Then he +said,</p> + +<p>"Tom, go to th' shippon, and supper the +cows. I want to speak to mother alone."</p> + +<p>When he entered the house-place, she was +sitting before the fire, looking into its embers. +She did not hear him come in; for some time +she had lost her quick perception of outward +things.</p> + +<p>"Mother! what's this about going to Manchester?" +asked he.</p> + +<p>"Oh, lad!" said she, turning round and +speaking in a beseeching tone, "I must go and +seek our Lizzie. I can not rest here for thinking +on her. Many's the time I've left thy +father sleeping in bed, and stole to th' window, +and looked and looked my heart out toward +Manchester, till I thought I must just set out +and tramp over moor and moss straight away +till I got there, and then lift up every downcast +face till I came to our Lizzie. And often, +when the south wind was blowing soft among +the hollows, I've fancied (it could but be fancy, +thou knowest) I heard her crying upon me; and +I've thought the voice came closer and closer, +till it last it was sobbing out "Mother" close to +the door; and I've stolen down, and undone the +latch before now, and looked out into the still, +black night, thinking to see her, and turned sick +and sorrowful when I heard no living sound but +the sough of the wind dying away. Oh! speak +not to me of stopping here, when she may be +perishing for hunger, like the poor lad in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span> +parable." And now she lifted up her voice and +wept aloud.</p> + +<p>Will was deeply grieved. He had been old +enough to be told the family shame when, more +than two years before, his father had had his +letter to his daughter returned by her mistress +in Manchester, telling him that Lizzie had left +her service some time—and why. He had +sympathized with his father's stern anger; +though he had thought him something hard, it +is true, when he had forbidden his weeping, +heart-broken wife to go and try to find her poor +sinning child, and declared that henceforth they +would have no daughter; that she should be as +one dead; and her name never more be named +at market or at meal-time, in blessing or in +prayer. He had held his peace, with compressed +lips and contracted brow, when the +neighbors had noticed to him how poor Lizzie's +death had aged both his father and his mother; +and how they thought the bereaved couple +would never hold up their heads again. He +himself had felt as if that one event had made +him old before his time; and had envied Tom +the tears he had shed over poor, pretty, innocent, +dead Lizzie. He thought about her sometimes, +till he ground his teeth together, and +could have struck her down in her shame. His +mother had never named her to him until now.</p> + +<p>"Mother!" said he at last. "She may be +dead. Most likely she is."</p> + +<p>"No, Will; she is not dead," said Mrs. +Leigh. "God will not let her die till I've seen +her once again. Thou dost not know how I've +prayed and prayed just once again to see her +sweet face, and tell her I've forgiven her, +though she's broken my heart—she has, Will." +She could not go on for a minute or two for the +choking sobs. "Thou dost not know that, or +thou wouldst not say she could be dead—for +God is very merciful, Will; He is—He is much +more pitiful than man—I could never ha' spoken +to thy father as I did to Him—and yet thy +father forgave her at last. The last words he +said were that he forgave her. Thou'lt not be +harder than thy father, Will? Do not try and +hinder me going to seek her, for it's no use."</p> + +<p>Will sat very still for a long time before he +spoke. At last he said, "I'll not hinder you. +I think she's dead, but that's no matter."</p> + +<p>"She is not dead," said her mother, with low +earnestness. Will took no notice of the interruption.</p> + +<p>"We will all go to Manchester for a twelvemonth, +and let the farm to Tom Higginbotham. +I'll get blacksmith's work; and Tom can have +good schooling for awhile, which he's always +craving for. At the end of the year you'll +come back, mother, and give over fretting for +Lizzie and think with me that she is dead—and +to my mind, that would be more comfort +than to think of her living;" he dropped his +voice as he spoke these last words. She shook +her head, but made no answer. He asked again,</p> + +<p>"Will you, mother, agree to this?"</p> + +<p>"I'll agree to it a-this-ons," said she. "If I +hear and see naught of her for a twelvemonth +me being in Manchester looking out, I'll just +ha' broken my heart fairly before the year's +ended, and then I shall know neither love nor +sorrow for her any more, when I'm at rest in +the grave—I'll agree to that, Will."</p> + +<p>"Well, I suppose it must be so. I shall not +tell Tom, mother, why we're flitting to Manchester. +Best spare him."</p> + +<p>"As thou wilt," said she, sadly, "so that we +go, that's all."</p> + +<p>Before the wild daffodils were in flower in +the sheltered copses round Upclose Farm, the +Leighs were settled in their Manchester home; +if they could ever grow to consider that place +as a home, where there was no garden, or outbuilding, +no fresh breezy outlet, no far-stretching +view, over moor and hollow—no dumb animals +to be tended, and, what more than all +they missed, no old haunting memories, even +though those remembrances told of sorrow, and +the dead and gone.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Leigh heeded the loss of all these things +less than her sons. She had more spirit in her +countenance than she had had for months, because +now she had hope; of a sad enough kind, +to be sure, but still it was hope. She performed +all her household duties, strange and complicated +as they were, and bewildered as she +was with all the town-necessities of her new +manner of life; but when her house was "sided," +and the boys come home from their work, in +the evening, she would put on her things and +steal out, unnoticed, as she thought, but not +without many a heavy sigh from Will, after +she had closed the house-door and departed. It +was often past midnight before she came back, +pale and weary, with almost a guilty look upon +her face; but that face so full of disappointment +and hope deferred, that Will had never the +heart to say what he thought of the folly and +hopelessness of the search. Night after night +it was renewed, till days grew to weeks, and +weeks to months. All this time Will did his +duty toward her as well as he could, without +having sympathy with her. He staid at home +in the evenings for Tom's sake, and often wished +he had Tom's pleasure in reading, for the +time hung heavy on his hands, as he sat up for +his mother.</p> + +<p>I need not tell you how the mother spent the +weary hours. And yet I will tell you something. +She used to wander out, at first as if +without a purpose, till she rallied her thoughts, +and brought all her energies to bear on the one +point; then she went with earnest patience +along the least known ways to some new part +of the town, looking wistfully with dumb entreaty +into people's faces; sometimes catching +a glimpse of a figure which had a kind of momentary +likeness to her child's, and following +that figure with never wearying perseverance, +till some light from shop or lamp showed the +cold, strange face which was not her daughter's. +Once or twice a kind-hearted passer-by, struck +by her look of yearning woe, turned back and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span> +offered help, or asked her what she wanted. +When so spoken to, she answered only, "You +don't know a poor girl they call Lizzie Leigh, +do you?" and when they denied all knowledge, +she shook her head and went on again. I think +they believed her to be crazy. But she never +spoke first to any one. She sometimes took a +few minutes' rest on the door-steps, and sometimes +(very seldom) covered her face and cried; +but she could not afford to lose time and chances +in this way; while her eyes were blinded with +tears, the lost one might pass by unseen.</p> + +<p>One evening, in the rich time of shortening +autumn-days, Will saw an old man, who, without +being absolutely drunk, could not guide +himself rightly along the foot-path, and was +mocked for his unsteadiness of gait by the idle +boys of the neighborhood. For his father's +sake, Will regarded old age with tenderness, +even when most degraded and removed from +the stern virtues which dignified that father; so +he took the old man home, and seemed to believe +his often-repeated assertions that he drank +nothing but water. The stranger tried to +stiffen himself up into steadiness as he drew +nearer home, as if there were some one there, +for whose respect he cared even in his half-intoxicated +state, or whose feelings he feared +to grieve. His home was exquisitely clean and +neat even in outside appearance; threshold, +window, and window-sill, were outward signs +of some spirit of purity within. Will was rewarded +for his attention by a bright glance of +thanks, succeeded by a blush of shame, from a +young woman of twenty or thereabouts. She +did not speak, or second her father's hospitable +invitation to him to be seated. She seemed +unwilling that a stranger should witness her +father's attempts at stately sobriety, and Will +could not bear to stay and see her distress. +But when the old man, with many a flabby +shake of the hand, kept asking him to come +again some other evening and see them, Will +sought her downcast eyes, and, though he could +not read their vailed meaning, he answered, +timidly, "If it's agreeable to every body, I'll +come—and thank ye." But there was no answer +from the girl to whom this speech was in +reality addressed; and Will left the house, liking +her all the better for never speaking.</p> + +<p>He thought about her a great deal for the +next day or two; he scolded himself for being +so foolish as to think of her, and then fell to +with fresh vigor, and thought of her more than +ever. He tried to depreciate her; he told himself +she was not pretty, and then made indignant +answer that he liked her looks much better +than any beauty of them all. He wished he +was not so country-looking, so red-faced, so +broad-shouldered; while she was like a lady, +with her smooth, colorless complexion, her +bright dark hair, and her spotless dress. Pretty, +or not pretty, she drew his footsteps toward +her; he could not resist the impulse that made +him wish to see her once more, and find out +some fault which should unloose his heart from +her unconscious keeping. But there she was, +pure and maidenly as before. He sat and +looked, answering her father at cross-purposes, +while she drew more and more into the shadow +of the chimney-corner out of sight. Then the +spirit that possessed him (it was not he himself, +sure, that did so impudent a thing!) made him +get up and carry the candle to a different place, +under the pretence of giving her more light at +her sewing, but, in reality, to be able to see +her better; she could not stand this much longer, +but jumped up, and said she must put her little +niece to bed; and surely, there never was, before +or since, so troublesome a child of two +years old; for, though Will staid an hour and a +half longer, she never came down again. He +won the father's heart, though, by his capacity +as a listener, for some people are not at all particular, +and, so that they themselves may talk +on undisturbed, are not so unreasonable as to +expect attention to what they say.</p> + +<p>Will did gather this much, however, from the +old man's talk. He had once been quite in a +genteel line of business, but had failed for more +money than any greengrocer he had heard of: +at least, any who did not mix up fish and game +with greengrocery proper. This grand failure +seemed to have been the event of his life, and +one on which he dwelt with a strange kind of +pride. It appeared as if at present he rested +from his past exertions (in the bankrupt line), +and depended on his daughter, who kept a small +school for very young children. But all these +particulars Will only remembered and understood, +when he had left the house; at the time +he heard them, he was thinking of Susan. After +he had made good his footing at Mr. Palmer's, +he was not long, you may be sure, without +finding some reason for returning again and +again. He listened to her father, he talked to +the little niece, but he looked at Susan, both +while he listened and while he talked. Her +father kept on insisting upon his former gentility, +the details of which would have appeared +very questionable to Will's mind, if the sweet, +delicate, modest Susan had not thrown an inexplicable +air of refinement over all she came +near. She never spoke much: she was generally +diligently at work; but when she moved, it +was so noiselessly, and when she did speak, it +was in so low and soft a voice, that silence, +speech, motion, and stillness, alike seemed to +remove her high above Will's reach, into some +saintly and inaccessible air of glory—high above +his reach, even as she knew him! And, if she +were made acquainted with the dark secret behind, +of his sister's shame, which was kept ever +present to his mind by his mother's nightly +search among the outcast and forsaken, would +not Susan shrink away from him with loathing, +as if he were tainted by the involuntary relationship? +This was his dread; and thereupon +followed a resolution that he would withdraw +from her sweet company before it was too late. +So he resisted internal temptation, and staid at +home, and suffered and sighed. He became<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span> +angry with his mother for her untiring patience +in seeking for one who, he could not help hoping, +was dead rather than alive. He spoke sharply +to her, and received only such sad, deprecatory +answers as made him reproach himself, and +still more lose sight of peace of mind. This +struggle could not last long without affecting +his health; and Tom, his sole companion through +the long evenings, noticed his increasing languor, +his restless irritability, with perplexed +anxiety, and at last resolved to call his mother's +attention to his brother's haggard, care-worn +looks. She listened with a startled recollection +of Will's claims upon her love. She noticed +his decreasing appetite, and half-checked sighs.</p> + +<p>"Will, lad! what's come o'er thee?" said +she to him, as he sat listlessly gazing into the +fire.</p> + +<p>"There's naught the matter with me," said +he, as if annoyed at her remark.</p> + +<p>"Nay, lad, but there is." He did not speak +again to contradict her; indeed she did not +know if he had heard her, so unmoved did he +look.</p> + +<p>"Would'st like to go back to Upclose Farm?" +asked she, sorrowfully.</p> + +<p>"It's just blackberrying time," said Tom.</p> + +<p>Will shook his head. She looked at him a +while, as if trying to read that expression of +despondency and trace it back to its source.</p> + +<p>"Will and Tom could go," said she; "I must +stay here till I've found her, thou know'st," +continued she, dropping her voice.</p> + +<p>He turned quickly round, and with the authority +he at all times exercised over Tom, bade +him begone to bed.</p> + +<p>When Tom had left the room he prepared to +speak.</p> + + +<h3>CHAPTER II.</h3> + +<p>"Mother," then said Will, "why will you +keep on thinking she's alive? If she were but +dead, we need never name her name again. +We've never heard naught on her since father +wrote her that letter; we never knew whether +she got it or not. She'd left her place before +then. Many a one dies is—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, my lad! dunnot speak so to me, or my +heart will break outright," said his mother, with +a sort of cry. Then she calmed herself, for she +yearned to persuade him to her own belief. +"Thou never asked, and thou'rt too like thy +father for me to tell without asking—but it +were all to be near Lizzie's old place that I +settled down on this side o' Manchester; and +the very day after we came, I went to her +old missus, and asked to speak a word wi' her. +I had a strong mind to cast it up to her, that she +should ha' sent my poor lass away without telling +on it to us first; but she were in black, and +looked so sad I could na' find in my heart to +threep it up. But I did ask her a bit about our +Lizzie. The master would have her turned +away at a day's warning (he's gone to t'other +place; I hope he'll meet wi' more mercy there +than he showed our Lizzie—I do); and when the +missus asked her should she write to us, she says +Lizzie shook her head; and when she speered +at her again, the poor lass went down on her +knees, and begged her not, for she said it would +break my heart (as it has done, Will—God knows +it has)," said the poor mother, choking with her +struggle to keep down her hard, overmastering +grief, "and her father would curse her—Oh, +God, teach me to be patient." She could not +speak for a few minutes. "And the lass +threatened, and said she'd go drown herself in +the canal, if the missus wrote home—and so—</p> + +<p>"Well! I'd got a trace of my child—the +missus thought she'd gone to th' workhouse to +be nursed; and there I went—and there, sure +enough, she had been—and they'd turned her +out as soon as she were strong, and told her she +were young enough to work—but whatten kind +o' work would be open to her, lad, and her baby +to keep?"</p> + +<p>Will listened to his mother's tale with deep +sympathy, not unmixed with the old bitter +shame. But the opening of her heart had unlocked +his, and after a while he spoke.</p> + +<p>"Mother! I think I'd e'en better go home. +Tom can stay wi' thee. I know I should stay +too, but I can not stay in peace so near—her—without +craving to see her—Susan Palmer, I +mean."</p> + +<p>"Has the old Mr. Palmer thou telled me on +a daughter?" asked Mrs. Leigh.</p> + +<p>"Ay, he has. And I love her above a bit. +And it's because I love her I want to leave +Manchester. That's all."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Leigh tried to understand this speech for +some time, but found it difficult of interpretation.</p> + +<p>"Why should'st thou not tell her thou lov's +her? Thou'rt a likely lad, and sure o' work. +Thou'lt have Upclose at my death; and as for +that I could let thee have it now, and keep mysel' +by doing a bit of charring. It seems to me +a very backward sort o' way of winning her to +think of leaving Manchester."</p> + +<p>"Oh, mother, she's so gentle and so good—she's +downright holy. She's never known a +touch of sin; and can I ask her to marry me, +knowing what we do about Lizzie, and fearing +worse! I doubt if one like her could ever care +for me; but if she knew about my sister, it +would put a gulf between us, and she'd shudder +up at the thought of crossing it. You don't +know how good she is, mother!"</p> + +<p>"Will, Will! if she's so good as thou say'st, +she'll have pity on such as my Lizzie. If she +has no pity for such, she's a cruel Pharisee, and +thou'rt best without her."</p> + +<p>But he only shook his head, and sighed; and +for the time the conversation dropped.</p> + +<p>But a new idea sprang up in Mrs. Leigh's +head. She thought that she would go and see +Susan Palmer, and speak up for Will, and tell +her the truth about Lizzie; and according to +her pity for the poor sinner, would she be worthy +or unworthy of him. She resolved to go the +very next afternoon, but without telling any one<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span> +of her plan. Accordingly she looked out the +Sunday clothes she had never before had the +heart to unpack since she came to Manchester, +but which she now desired to appear in, in +order to do credit to Will. She put on her old-fashioned +black mode bonnet, trimmed with real +lace; her scarlet cloth cloak, which she had had +ever since she was married; and always spotlessly +clean, she set forth on her unauthorized +embassy. She knew the Palmers lived in Crown-street, +though where she had heard it she could +not tell; and modestly asking her way, she arrived +in the street about a quarter to four +o'clock. She stopped to inquire the exact +number, and the woman whom she addressed +told her that Susan Palmer's school would not +be loosed till four, and asked her to step in and +wait until then at her house.</p> + +<p>"For," said she, smiling, "them that wants +Susan Palmer wants a kind friend of ours; so +we, in a manner, call cousins. Sit down, missus, +sit down. I'll wipe the chair, so that it shanna +dirty your cloak. My mother used to wear them +bright cloaks, and they're right gradely things +again' a green field."</p> + +<p>"Han ye known Susan Palmer long?" asked +Mrs. Leigh, pleased with the admiration of her +cloak.</p> + +<p>"Ever since they comed to live in our street. +Our Sally goes to her school."</p> + +<p>"Whatten sort of a lass is she, for I ha' never +seen her?"</p> + +<p>"Well, as for looks, I can not say. It's so +long since I first knowed her, that I've clean +forgotten what I thought of her then. My master +says he never saw such a smile for gladdening +the heart. But may be it's not looks you're +asking about. The best thing I can say of her +looks is, that she's just one a stranger would +stop in the street to ask help from if he needed +it. All the little childer creeps as close as they +can to her; she'll have as many as three or four +hanging to her apron all at once."</p> + +<p>"Is she cocket at all?"</p> + +<p>"Cocket, bless you! you never saw a creature +less set up in all your life. Her father's cocket +enough. No! she's not cocket any way. You've +not heard much of Susan Palmer, I reckon, if you +think she's cocket. She's just one to come quietly +in, and do the very thing most wanted; little +things, maybe, that any one could do, but that +few would think on, for another. She'll bring +her thimble wi' her, and mend up after the +childer o' nights—and she writes all Betty +Harker's letters to her grandchild out at service—and +she's in nobody's way, and that's a great +matter, I take it. Here's the childer running +past! School is loosed. You'll find her now, +missus, ready to hear and to help. But we +none on us frab her by going near her in schooltime."</p> + +<p>Poor Mrs. Leigh's heart began to beat, and +she could almost have turned round and gone +home again. Her country breeding had made +her shy of strangers, and this Susan Palmer appeared +to her like a real born lady by all accounts. +So she knocked with a timid feeling at the indicated +door, and when it was opened, dropped a +simple curtsey without speaking. Susan had +her little niece in her arms, curled up with fond +endearment against her breast, but she put her +gently down to the ground, and instantly placed +a chair in the best corner of the room for Mrs. +Leigh, when she told her who she was.</p> + +<p>"It's not Will as has asked me to come," said +the mother, apologetically, "I'd a wish just to +speak to you myself!"</p> + +<p>Susan colored up to her temples, and stooped +to pick up the little toddling girl. In a minute +or two Mrs. Leigh began again.</p> + +<p>"Will thinks you would na respect us if you +knew all; but I think you could na help feeling +for us in the sorrow God has put upon us; so I +just put on my bonnet, and came off unknownst +to the lads. Every one says you're very good, +and that the Lord has keeped you from falling +from His ways; but maybe you've never yet +been tried and tempted as some is. I'm perhaps +speaking too plain, but my heart's welly +broken, and I can't be choice in my words as +them who are happy can. Well, now! I'll tell +you the truth. Will dreads you to hear it, but +I'll just tell it you. You mun know"—but here +the poor woman's words failed her, and she could +do nothing but sit rocking herself backward and +forward, with sad eyes, straight-gazing into +Susan's face, as if they tried to tell the tale of +agony which the quivering lips refused to utter. +Those wretched stony eyes forced the tears down +Susan's cheeks, and, as if this sympathy gave the +mother strength, she went on in a low voice, "I +had a daughter once, my heart's darling. Her +father thought I made too much on her, and that +she'd grow marred staying at home; so he said +she mun go among strangers, and learn to rough +it. She were young, and liked the thought of +seeing a bit of the world; and her father heard +on a place in Manchester. Well! I'll not weary +you. That poor girl were led astray; and first +thing we heard on it, was when a letter of her +father's was sent back by her missus, saying she'd +left her place, or, to speak right, the master had +turned her into the street soon as he had heard +of her condition—and she not seventeen!"</p> + +<p>She now cried aloud; and Susan wept too. +The little child looked up into their faces, and, +catching their sorrow, began to whimper and +wail. Susan took it softly up, and hiding her +face in its little neck, tried to restrain her tears, +and think of comfort for the mother. At last +she said:</p> + +<p>"Where is she now?"</p> + +<p>"Lass! I dunnot know," said Mrs. Leigh, +checking her sobs to communicate this addition +to her distress. "Mrs. Lomax telled me she +went—"</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Lomax—what Mrs. Lomax?"</p> + +<p>"Her as lives in Brabazon-street. She telled +me my poor wench went to the workhouse fra +there. I'll not speak again' the dead; but if her +father would but ha' letten me—but he were one +who had no notion—no, I'll not say that; best<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span> +say naught. He forgave her on his death-bed. +I dare say I did na go th' right way to work."</p> + +<p>"Will you hold the child for me one instant?" +said Susan.</p> + +<p>"Ay, if it will come to me. Childer used to +be fond on me till I got the sad look on my face +that scares them, I think."</p> + +<p>But the little girl clung to Susan; so she +carried it up-stairs with her. Mrs. Leigh sat by +herself—how long she did not know.</p> + +<p>Susan came down with a bundle of far-worn +baby-clothes.</p> + +<p>"You must listen to me a bit, and not think +too much about what I'm going to tell you. +Nanny is not my niece, nor any kin to me that +I know of. I used to go out working by the +day. One night, as I came home, I thought +some woman was following me; I turned to look. +The woman, before I could see her face (for she +turned it to one side), offered me something. I +held out my arms by instinct: she dropped a +bundle into them with a bursting sob that went +straight to my heart. It was a baby. I looked +round again; but the woman was gone. She +had run away as quick as lightning. There was +a little packet of clothes—very few—and as if +they were made out of its mother's gowns, for +they were large patterns to buy for a baby. I +was always fond of babies; and I had not my +wits about me, father says; for it was very cold, +and when I'd seen as well as I could (for it was +past ten) that there was no one in the street, I +brought it in and warmed it. Father was very +angry when he came, and said he'd take it to +the workhouse the next morning, and flyted me +sadly about it. But when morning came I could +not bear to part with it; it had slept in my arms +all night; and I've heard what workhouse bringing +is. So I told father I'd give up going out +working, and stay at home and keep school, if I +might only keep the baby; and after a while, he +said if I earned enough for him to have his comforts, +he'd let me; but he's never taken to her. +Now, don't tremble so—I've but a little more to +tell—and may be I'm wrong in telling it; but I +used to work next door to Mrs. Lomax's, in +Brabazon-street, and the servants were all thick +together; and I heard about Bessy (they called +her) being sent away. I don't know that ever +I saw her; but the time would be about fitting +to this child's age, and I've sometimes fancied it +was hers. And now, will you look at the little +clothes that came with her—bless her!"</p> + +<p>But Mrs. Leigh had fainted. The strange +joy and shame, and gushing love for the little +child had overpowered her; it was some time +before Susan could bring her round. There she +was all trembling, sick impatience to look at the +little frocks. Among them was a slip of paper +which Susan had forgotten to name, that had +been pinned to the bundle. On it was scrawled +in a round stiff hand:</p> + +<p>"Call her Anne. She does not cry much, and +takes a deal of notice. God bless you and forgive +me."</p> + +<p>The writing was no clew at all; the name +"Anne," common though it was, seemed something +to build upon. But Mrs. Leigh recognized +one of the frocks instantly, as being made out of +part of a gown that she and her daughter had +bought together in Rochdale.</p> + +<p>She stood up, and stretched out her hands in +the attitude of blessing over Susan's bent head.</p> + +<p>"God bless you, and show you his mercy in +your need, as you have shown it to this little +child."</p> + +<p>She took the little creature in her arms, and +smoothed away her sad looks to a smile, and +kissed it fondly, saying over and over again, +"Nanny, Nanny, my little Nanny." At last +the child was soothed, and looked in her face +and smiled back again.</p> + +<p>"It has her eyes," said she to Susan.</p> + +<p>"I never saw her to the best of my knowledge +I think it must be hers by the frock. But where +can she be?"</p> + +<p>"God knows," said Mrs. Leigh; "I dare not +think she's dead. I'm sure she isn't."</p> + +<p>"No! she's not dead. Every now and then +a little packet is thrust in under our door, with +may be two half-crowns in it; once it was half-a-sovereign. +Altogether I've got seven-and-thirty +shillings wrapped up for Nanny. I never +touch it, but I've often thought the poor mother +feels near to God when she brings this money. +Father wanted to set the policeman to watch, +but I said, No, for I was afraid if she was watched +she might not come, and it seemed such a holy +thing to be checking her in, I could not find in +my heart to do it."</p> + +<p>"Oh, if we could but find her! I'd take her +in my arms, and we'd just lie down and die +together."</p> + +<p>"Nay, don't speak so!" said Susan gently, +"for all that's come and gone, she may turn +right at last. Mary Magdalen did, you know."</p> + +<p>"Eh! but I were nearer right about thee +than Will. He thought you would never look +on him again, if you knew about Lizzie. But +thou'rt not a Pharisee."</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry he thought I could be so hard," +said Susan in a low voice, and coloring up. Then +Mrs. Leigh was alarmed, and in her motherly +anxiety, she began to fear lest she had injured +Will in Susan's estimation.</p> + +<p>"You see Will thinks so much of you—gold +would not be good enough for you to walk on, +in his eye. He said you'd never look at him as +he was, let alone his being brother to my poor +wench. He loves you so, it makes him think +meanly on every thing belonging to himself, as +not fit to come near ye—but he's a good lad, +and a good son—thou'lt be a happy woman if +thou'lt have him—so don't let my words go +against him; don't!"</p> + +<p>But Susan hung her head and made no answer. +She had not known until now, that Will thought +so earnestly and seriously about her; and even +now she felt afraid that Mrs. Leigh's words +promised her too much happiness, and that they +could not be true. At any rate the instinct of +modesty made her shrink from saying any thing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span> +which might seem like a confession of her own +feelings to a third person. Accordingly she +turned the conversation on the child.</p> + +<p>"I'm sure he could not help loving Nanny," +said she. "There never was such a good little +darling; don't you think she'd win his heart if +he knew she was his niece, and perhaps bring +him to think kindly on his sister?"</p> + +<p>"I dunnot know," said Mrs. Leigh, shaking +her head. "He has a turn in his eye like his +father, that makes me—. He's right down good +though. But you see I've never been a good +one at managing folk; one severe look turns me +sick, and then I say just the wrong thing, I'm so +fluttered. Now I should like nothing better than +to take Nancy home with me, but Tom knows +nothing but that his sister is dead, and I've not +the knack of speaking rightly to Will. I dare +not do it, and that's the truth. But you mun +not think badly of Will. He's so good hissel, +that he can't understand how any one can do +wrong; and, above all, I'm sure he loves you +dearly."</p> + +<p>"I don't think I could part with Nancy," said +Susan, anxious to stop this revelation of Will's +attachment to herself. "He'll come round to +her soon; he can't fail; and I'll keep a sharp +look-out after the poor mother, and try and catch +her the next time she comes with her little parcels +of money."</p> + +<p>"Ay, lass! we mun get hold of her; my +Lizzie. I love thee dearly for thy kindness to +her child; but, if thou can'st catch her for me, +I'll pray for thee when I'm too near my death to +speak words; and while I live, I'll serve thee +next to her—she mun come first, thou know'st. +God bless thee, lass. My heart is lighter by a +deal than it was when I comed in. Them lads +will be looking for me home, and I mun go, +and leave this little sweet one," kissing it. "If +I can take courage, I'll tell Will all that has +come and gone between us two. He may come +and see thee, mayn't he?"</p> + +<p>"Father will be very glad to see him, I'm sure," +replied Susan. The way in which this was spoken +satisfied Mrs. Leigh's anxious heart that she had +done Will no harm by what she had said; and +with many a kiss to the little one, and one more +fervent tearful blessing on Susan, she went homeward.</p> + + +<h3>CHAPTER III.</h3> + +<p>That night Mrs. Leigh stopped at home; +that only night for many months. Even Tom, +the scholar, looked up from his books in amazement; +but then he remembered that Will had +not been well, and that his mother's attention +having been called to the circumstance, it was +only natural she should stay to watch him. +And no watching could be more tender, or +more complete. Her loving eyes seemed never +averted from his face; his grave, sad, care-worn +face. When Tom went to bed the mother +left her seat, and going up to Will where he +sat looking at the fire, but not seeing it, she +kissed his forehead, and said,</p> + +<p>"Will! lad, I've been to see Susan Palmer!"</p> + +<p>She felt the start under her hand which was +placed on his shoulder, but he was silent for a +minute or two. Then he said,</p> + +<p>"What took you there, mother?"</p> + +<p>"Why, my lad, it was likely I should wish +to see one you cared for; I did not put myself +forward. I put on my Sunday clothes, and +tried to behave as yo'd ha liked me. At least +I remember trying at first; but after, I forgot +all."</p> + +<p>She rather wished that he would question +her as to what made her forget all. But he +only said,</p> + +<p>"How was she looking, mother?"</p> + +<p>"Will, thou seest I never set eyes on her +before; but she's a good, gentle-looking creature; +and I love her dearly as I have reason to."</p> + +<p>Will looked up with momentary surprise; +for his mother was too shy to be usually taken +with strangers. But after all it was natural in +this case, for who could look at Susan without +loving her? So still he did not ask any questions, +and his poor mother had to take courage, +and try again to introduce the subject near to +her heart. But how?</p> + +<p>"Will!" said she (jerking it out, in sudden +despair of her own powers to lead to what she +wanted to say), "I've telled her all."</p> + +<p>"Mother! you've ruined me," said he, standing +up, and standing opposite to her with a +stern, white look of affright on his face.</p> + +<p>"No! my own dear lad; dunnot look so +scared, I have not ruined you!" she exclaimed, +placing her two hands on his shoulders and +looking fondly into his face. "She's not one to +harden her heart against a mother's sorrow. +My own lad, she's too good for that. She's +not one to judge and scorn the sinner. She's +too deep read in her New Testament for that. +Take courage, Will; and thou mayst, for I +watched her well, though it is not for one +woman to let out another's secret. Sit thee +down, lad, for thou look'st very white."</p> + +<p>He sat down. His mother drew a stool +toward him, and sat at his feet.</p> + +<p>"Did you tell her about Lizzie, then?" asked +he, hoarse and low.</p> + +<p>"I did, I telled her all; and she fell a crying +over my deep sorrow, and the poor wench's sin. +And then a light comed into her face, trembling +and quivering with some new, glad thought; +and what dost thou think it was, Will, lad? +Nay, I'll not misdoubt but that thy heart will +give thanks as mine did, afore God and His +angels, for her great goodness. That little +Nanny is not her niece, she's our Lizzie's own +child, my little grandchild." She could no +longer restrain her tears, and they fell hot and +fast, but still she looked into his face.</p> + +<p>"Did she know it was Lizzie's child? I do +not comprehend," said he, flushing red.</p> + +<p>"She knows now: she did not at first, but +took the little helpless creature in, out of her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span> +own pitiful, loving heart, guessing only that it +was the child of shame, and she's worked for +it, and kept it, and tended it ever sin' it were a +mere baby, and loves it fondly. Will! won't +you love it?" asked she, beseechingly.</p> + +<p>He was silent for an instant; then he said, +"Mother, I'll try. Give me time, for all these +things startle me. To think of Susan having to +do with such a child!"</p> + +<p>"Ay, Will! and to think (as may be yet) of +Susan having to do with the child's mother! +For she is tender and pitiful, and speaks hopefully +of my lost one, and will try and find her +for me, when she comes, as she does sometimes, +to thrust money under the door for her baby. +Think of that Will. Here's Susan, good and +pure as the angels in heaven, yet, like them, +full of hope and mercy, and one who, like them, +will rejoice over her as repents. Will, my lad, +I'm not afeared of you now, and I must speak, +and you must listen. I am your mother, and I +dare to command you, because I know I am in +the right and that God is on my side. If He +should lead the poor wandering lassie to Susan's +door, and she comes back crying and sorrowful, +led by that good angel to us once more, thou +shalt never say a casting-up word to her about +her sin, but be tender and helpful toward one +'who was lost and is found,' so may God's +blessing rest on thee, and so mayst thou lead +Susan home as thy wife."</p> + +<p>She stood, no longer as the meek, imploring, +gentle mother, but firm and dignified, as if the +interpreter of God's will. Her manner was so +unusual and solemn, that it overcame all Will's +pride and stubbornness. He rose softly while +she was speaking, and bent his head as if in +reverence at her words, and the solemn injunction +which they conveyed. When she had +spoken, he said in so subdued a voice that she +was almost surprised at the sound, "Mother, +I will."</p> + +<p>"I may be dead and gone—but all the same—thou +wilt take home the wandering sinner, +and heal up her sorrows, and lead her to her +Father's house. My lad! I can speak no +more; I'm turned very faint."</p> + +<p>He placed her in a chair; he ran for water. +She opened her eyes and smiled.</p> + +<p>"God bless you, Will. Oh! I am so happy. +It seems as if she were found; my heart is so +filled with gladness."</p> + +<p>That night, Mr. Palmer staid out late and +long. Susan was afraid that he was at his +old haunts and habits—getting tipsy at some +public-house; and this thought oppressed her, +even though she had so much to make her +happy, in the consciousness that Will loved her. +She sat up long, and then she went to bed, +leaving all arranged as well as she could for +her father's return. She looked at the little, +rosy sleeping girl who was her bed-fellow, with +redoubled tenderness, and with many a prayerful +thought. The little arms entwined her neck +as she lay down, for Nanny was a light sleeper, +and was conscious that she, who was loved with +all the power of that sweet childish heart, was +near her, and by her, although she was too +sleepy to utter any of her half-formed words.</p> + +<p>And by-and-by she heard her father come +home, stumbling uncertain, trying first the windows, +and next the door-fastenings, with many +a loud, incoherent murmur. The little innocent +twined around her seemed all the sweeter and +more lovely, when she thought sadly of her +erring father; And presently he called aloud +for a light; she had left matches and all arranged +as usual on the dresser, but, fearful +of some accident from fire, in his unusually intoxicated +state, she now got up softly, and putting +on a cloak, went down to his assistance.</p> + +<p>Alas! the little arms that were unclosed +from her soft neck belonged to a light, easily +awakened sleeper. Nanny missed her darling +Susy, and terrified at being left alone in the +vast, mysterious darkness, which had no bounds, +and seemed infinite, she slipped out of bed, and +tottered in her little night-gown toward the +door. There was a light below, and there +was Susy and safety! So she went onward +two steps toward the steep, abrupt stairs; and +then dazzled with sleepiness, she stood, she +wavered, she fell! Down on her head, on the +stone floor she fell! Susan flew to her, and +spoke all soft, entreating, loving words; but +her white lids covered, up the blue violets of +eyes, and there was no murmur came out of the +pale lips. The warm tears that rained down, +did not awaken her; she lay stiff, and weary +with her short life, on Susan's knee. Susan +went sick with terror. She carried her up-stairs, +and laid her tenderly in bed; she dressed +herself most hastily, with her trembling fingers. +Her father was asleep on the settle down stairs; +and useless, and worse than useless if awake. +But Susan flew out of the door, and down the +quiet, resounding street, toward the nearest +doctor's house. Quickly she went; but as +quickly a shadow followed, as if impelled by +some sudden terror. Susan rung wildly at the +night-bell—the shadow crouched near. The +doctor looked out from an up-stairs window.</p> + +<p>"A little child has fallen down stairs at +No. 9, Crown-street, and is very ill—dying I'm +afraid. Please, for God's sake, sir, come directly. +No. 9, Crown-street."</p> + +<p>"I'll be there directly," said he, and shut the +window.</p> + +<p>"For that God you have just spoken about—for +His sake—tell me are you Susan Palmer? +Is it my child that lies a-dying?" said the +shadow, springing forward, and clutching poor +Susan's arm.</p> + +<p>"It is a little child of two years old—I do not +know whose it is; I love it as my own. Come +with me, whoever you are; come with me."</p> + +<p>The two sped along the silent streets—as +silent as the night were they. They entered +the house; Susan snatched up the light, and +carried it up-stairs. The other followed.</p> + +<p>She stood with wild glaring eyes by the bed +side, never looking at Susan, but hungrily gazing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span> +at the little, white, still child. She stooped +down, and put her hand tight on her own heart, +as if to still its beating, and bent her ear to the +pale lips. Whatever the result was, she did +not speak; but threw off the bed-clothes wherewith +Susan had tenderly covered up the little +creature, and felt its left side.</p> + +<p>Then she threw up her arms with a cry of +wild despair.</p> + +<p>"She is dead! she is dead!"</p> + +<p>She looked so fierce, so mad, so haggard, +that for an instant Susan was terrified—the +next, the holy God had put courage into her +heart, and her pure arms were round that +guilty, wretched creature, and her tears were +falling fast and warm upon her breast. But +she was thrown off with violence.</p> + +<p>"You killed her—you slighted her—you let +her fall down those stairs! you killed her!"</p> + +<p>Susan cleared off the thick mist before her, +and gazing at the mother with her clear, sweet, +angel-eyes, said, mournfully,</p> + +<p>"I would have laid down my life for her."</p> + +<p>"Oh, the murder is on my soul!" exclaimed +the wild, bereaved mother, with the fierce impetuosity +of one who has none to love her and +to be beloved, regard to whom might teach +self-restraint.</p> + +<p>"Hush!" said Susan, her finger on her lips. +"Here is the doctor. God may suffer her to +live."</p> + +<p>The poor mother turned sharp round. The +doctor mounted the stair. Ah! that mother was +right; the little child was really dead and gone.</p> + +<p>And when he confirmed her judgment, the +mother fell down in a fit. Susan, with her +deep grief had to forget herself, and forget her +darling (her charge for years), and question the +doctor what she must do with the poor wretch, +who lay on the floor in such extreme of misery.</p> + +<p>"She is the mother!" said she.</p> + +<p>"Why did not she take better care of her +child?" asked he, almost angrily.</p> + +<p>But Susan only said, "The little child slept +with me; and it was I that left her."</p> + +<p>"I will go back and make up a composing +draught; and while I am away you must get +her to bed."</p> + +<p>Susan took out some of her own clothes, and +softly undressed the stiff, powerless, form. There +was no other bed in the house but the one in +which her father slept. So she tenderly lifted +the body of her darling; and was going to take +it down stairs, but the mother opened her eyes, +and seeing what she was about, she said,</p> + +<p>"I am not worthy to touch her, I am so +wicked; I have spoken to you as I never should +have spoken; but I think you are very good; +may I have my own child to lie in my arms for +a little while?"</p> + +<p>Her voice was so strange a contrast to what +it had been before she had gone into the fit that +Susan hardly recognized it; it was now so +unspeakably soft, so irresistibly pleading, the +features too had lost their fierce expression, and +were almost as placid as death. Susan could +not speak, but she carried the little child; and +laid it in its mother's arms; then as she looked +at them, something overpowered her, and she +knelt down, crying aloud:</p> + +<p>"Oh, my God, my God, have mercy on her, +and forgive and comfort her."</p> + +<p>But the mother kept smiling, and stroking +the little face, murmuring soft, tender words, +as if it were alive; she was going mad, Susan +thought; but she prayed on, and on, and ever +still she prayed with streaming eyes.</p> + +<p>The doctor came with the draught. The +mother took it, with docile unconsciousness of +its nature as medicine. The doctor sat by her; +and soon she fell asleep. Then he rose softly, +and beckoning Susan to the door, he spoke to +her there.</p> + +<p>"You must take the corpse out of her arms. +She will not awake. That draught will make +her sleep for many hours. I will call before +noon again. It is now daylight. Good-by."</p> + +<p>Susan shut him out; and then gently extricating +the dead child from its mother's arms, +she could not resist making her own quiet moan +over her darling. She tried to learn off its little +placid face, dumb and pale before her.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Not all the scalding tears of care<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Shall wash away that vision fair<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not all the thousand thoughts that rise,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Not all the sights that dim her eyes.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Shall e'er usurp the place<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of that little angel-face."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>And then she remembered what remained to +be done. She saw that all was right in the +house; her father was still dead asleep on the +settle, in spite of all the noise of the night. She +went out through the quiet streets, deserted +still, although it was broad daylight, and to +where the Leighs lived. Mrs. Leigh, who kept +her country hours, was opening her window-shutters. +Susan took her by the arm, and, +without speaking, went into the house-place. +There she knelt down before the astonished +Mrs. Leigh, and cried as she had never done +before; but the miserable night had overpowered +her, and she who had gone through so +much calmly, now that the pressure seemed +removed, could not find the power to speak.</p> + +<p>"My poor dear! What has made thy heart +so sore as to come and cry a-this-ons? Speak +and tell me. Nay, cry on, poor wench, if thou +canst not speak yet. It will ease the heart, and +then thou canst tell me."</p> + +<p>"Nanny is dead!" said Susan. "I left her +to go to father, and she fell down stairs, and +never breathed again. Oh, that's my sorrow +but I've more to tell. Her mother is come—is +in our house. Come and see if it's your Lizzie." +Mrs. Leigh could not speak, but, trembling, +put on her things, and went with Susan +in dizzy haste back to Crown-street.</p> + + +<h3>CHAPTER IV.</h3> + +<p>As they entered the house in Crown-street, +they perceived that the door would not open<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span> +freely on its hinges, and Susan instinctively +looked behind to see the cause of the obstruction. +She immediately recognized the appearance +of a little parcel, wrapped in a scrap of +newspaper, and evidently containing money. +She stooped and picked it up. "Look!" said +she, sorrowfully, "the mother was bringing this +for her child last night."</p> + +<p>But Mrs. Leigh did not answer. So near to +the ascertaining if it were her lost child or no, +she could not be arrested, but pressed onward +with trembling steps and a beating, fluttering +heart. She entered the bedroom, dark and +still. She took no heed of the little corpse, +over which Susan paused, but she went straight +to the bed, and withdrawing the curtain, saw +Lizzie—but not the former Lizzie, bright, gay, +buoyant, and undimmed. This Lizzie was old +before her time; her beauty was gone; deep +lines of care, and alas! of want (or thus the +mother imagined) were printed on the cheek, +so round, and fair, and smooth, when last she +gladdened her mother's eyes. Even in her +sleep she bore the look of woe and despair +which was the prevalent expression of her face +by day; even in her sleep she had forgotten +how to smile. But all these marks of the sin +and sorrow she had passed through only made +her mother love her the more. She stood looking +at her with greedy eyes, which seemed as +though no gazing could satisfy their longing; +and at last she stooped down and kissed the +pale, worn hand that lay outside the bed-clothes. +No touch disturbed the sleeper; the mother need +not have laid the hand so gently down upon the +counterpane. There was no sign of life, save +only now and then a deep, sob-like sigh. Mrs. +Leigh sat down beside the bed, and, still holding +back the curtain, looked on and on, as if she +could never be satisfied.</p> + +<p>Susan would fain have staid by her darling +one; but she had many calls upon her time and +thoughts, and her will had now, as ever, to be +given up to that of others. All seemed to devolve +the burden of their cares on her. Her +father, ill-humored from his last night's intemperance, +did not scruple to reproach her with +being the cause of little Nanny's death; and +when, after bearing his upbraiding meekly for +some time, she could no longer restrain herself, +but began to cry, he wounded her even more +by his injudicious attempts at comfort: for he +said it was as well the child was dead; it was +none of theirs, and why should they be troubled +with it? Susan wrung her hands at this, and +came and stood before her father, and implored +him to forbear. Then she had to take all requisite +steps for the coroner's inquest; she had +to arrange for the dismissal of her school; she +had to summon a little neighbor, and send his +willing feet on a message to William Leigh, who, +she felt, ought to be informed of his mother's +whereabouts, and of the whole state of affairs. +She asked her messenger to tell him to come +and speak to her—that his mother was at her +house. She was thankful that her father sauntered +out to have a gossip at the nearest coach-stand, +and to relate as many of the night's +adventures as he knew; for as yet he was in +ignorance of the watcher and the watched, who +silently passed away the hours up-stairs.</p> + +<p>At dinner-time Will came. He looked red, +glad, impatient, excited. Susan stood calm and +white before him, her soft, loving eyes gazing +straight into his.</p> + +<p>"Will," said she, in a low, quiet voice, "your +sister is up-stairs."</p> + +<p>"My sister!" said he, as if affrighted at the +idea, and losing his glad look in one of gloom. +Susan saw it, and her heart sank a little, but +she went on as calm to all appearance as ever.</p> + +<p>"She was little Nanny's mother, as perhaps +you know. Poor little Nanny was killed last +night by a fall down stairs." All the calmness +was gone; all the suppressed feeling was displayed +in spite of every effort. She sat down, +and hid her face from him, and cried bitterly. +He forgot every thing but the wish, the longing +to comfort her. He put his arm round her +waist, and bent over her. But all he could say +was, "Oh, Susan, how can I comfort you? +Don't take on so—pray, don't!" He never +changed the words, but the tone varied every +time he spoke. At last she seemed to regain +her power over herself, and she wiped her eyes, +and once more looked upon him with her own +quiet, earnest, unfearing gaze.</p> + +<p>"Your sister was near the house. She came +in on hearing my words to the doctor. She is +asleep now, and your mother is watching her. +I wanted to tell you all myself. Would you like +to see your mother?"</p> + +<p>"No!" said he. "I would rather see none +but thee. Mother told me thou knew'st all." +His eyes were downcast in their shame.</p> + +<p>But the holy and pure did not lower or vail +her eyes.</p> + +<p>She said, "Yes, I know all—all but her sufferings. +Think what they must have been!"</p> + +<p>He made answer low and stern, "She deserved +them all—every jot."</p> + +<p>"In the eye of God, perhaps she does. He +is the judge: we are not."</p> + +<p>"Oh," she said, with a sudden burst, "Will +Leigh, I have thought so well of you; don't go +and make me think you cruel and hard. Goodness +is not goodness unless there is mercy and +tenderness with it. There is your mother who +has been nearly heart-broken, now full of rejoicing +over her child—think of your mother."</p> + +<p>"I do think of her," said he. "I remember +the promise I gave her last night. Thou should'st +give me time. I would do right in time. I +never think it o'er in quiet. But I will do what +is right and fitting, never fear. Thou hast +spoken out very plain to me, and misdoubted +me, Susan; I love thee so, that thy words cut +me. If I did hang back a bit from making +sudden promises, it was because, not even for +love of thee, would I say what I was not feeling; +and at first I could not feel all at once as +thou would'st have me. But I'm not cruel and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span> +hard; for if I had been, I should na' have +grieved as I have done."</p> + +<p>He made as if he were going away; and +indeed he did feel he would rather think it over +in quiet. But Susan, grieved at her incautious +words, which had all the appearance of harshness, +went a step or two nearer—paused—and +then, all over blushes, said in a low, soft whisper,</p> + +<p>"Oh, Will! I beg your pardon. I am very +sorry—won't you forgive me?"</p> + +<p>She who had always drawn back, and been +so reserved, said this in the very softest manner; +with eyes now uplifted beseechingly, now dropped +to the ground. Her sweet confusion told +more than words could do; and Will turned +back, all joyous in his certainty of being beloved, +and took her in his arms and kissed her.</p> + +<p>"My own Susan!" he said.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile the mother watched her child in +the room above.</p> + +<p>It was late in the afternoon before she awoke, +for the sleeping draught had been very powerful. +The instant she awoke, her eyes were +fixed on her mother's face with a gaze as unflinching +as if she were fascinated. Mrs. Leigh +did not turn away, nor move. For it seemed +as if motion would unlock the stony command +over herself which, while so perfectly still, she +was enabled to preserve. But by-and-by Lizzie +cried out, in a piercing voice of agony,</p> + +<p>"Mother, don't look at me! I have been so +wicked!" and instantly she hid her face, and +groveled among the bed-clothes, and lay like one +dead—so motionless was she.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Leigh knelt down by the bed, and spoke +in the most soothing tones.</p> + +<p>"Lizzie, dear, don't speak so. I'm thy +mother, darling; don't be afeard of me. I +never left off loving thee, Lizzie. I was always +a-thinking of thee. Thy father forgave +thee afore he died." (There was a little start +here, but no sound was heard). "Lizzie, lass, +I'll do aught for thee; I'll live for thee; only +don't be afeard of me. Whate'er thou art or +hast been, we'll ne'er speak on't. We'll leave +th' oud times behind us, and go back to the Upclose +Farm. I but left it to find thee, my lass; +and God has led me to thee. Blessed be His +name. And God is good, too, Lizzie. Thou +hast not forgot thy Bible, I'll be bound, for thou +wert always a scholar. I'm no reader, but I +learnt off them texts to comfort me a bit, and +I've said them many a time a day to myself. +Lizzie, lass, don't hide thy head so, it's thy +mother as is speaking to thee. Thy little child +clung to me only yesterday; and if it's gone to +be an angel, it will speak to God for thee. Nay, +don't sob a that 'as; thou shalt have it again in +heaven; I know thou'lt strive to get there, for +thy little Nancy's sake—and listen! I'll tell +thee God's promises to them that are penitent; +only don't be afeard."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Leigh folded her hands, and strove to +speak very clearly, while she repeated every +tender and merciful text she could remember. +She could tell from the breathing that her +daughter was listening; but she was so dizzy +and sick herself when she had ended, that she +could not go on speaking. It was all she could +do to keep from crying aloud.</p> + +<p>At last she heard her daughter's voice.</p> + +<p>"Where have they taken her to?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"She is down stairs. So quiet, and peaceful, +and happy she looks."</p> + +<p>"Could she speak? Oh, if God—if I might +but have heard her little voice! Mother, I used +to dream of it. May I see her once again—Oh, +mother, if I strive very hard, and God is +very merciful, and I go to Heaven, I shall not +know her—I shall not know my own again—she +will shun me as a stranger, and cling to +Susan Palmer and to you. Oh woe! Oh woe!" +She shook with exceeding sorrow.</p> + +<p>In her earnestness of speech she had uncovered +her face, and tried to read Mrs. Leigh's +thoughts through her looks. And when she +saw those aged eyes brimming full of tears, and +marked the quivering lips, she threw her arms +round the faithful mother's neck, and wept there +as she had done in many a childish sorrow, but +with a deeper, a more wretched grief. Her mother +hushed her on her breast; and lulled her as +if she were a baby; and she grew still and quiet.</p> + +<p>They sat thus for a long, long time. At last +Susan Palmer came up with some tea and bread +and butter for Mrs. Leigh. She watched the +mother feed her sick, unwilling child, with every +fond inducement to eat which she could devise; +they neither of them took notice of Susan's presence. +That night they lay in each other's arms; +but Susan slept on the ground beside them.</p> + +<p>They took the little corpse (the little unconscious +sacrifice, whose early calling-home had +reclaimed her poor, wandering mother), to the +hills, which in her life-time she had never seen. +They dared not lay her by the stern grandfather +in Milne-row church-yard, but they bore +her to a lone moorland grave-yard, where long +ago the Quakers used to bury their dead. They +laid her there on the sunny slope, where the +earliest spring-flowers blow.</p> + +<p>Will and Susan live at the Upclose Farm. +Mrs. Leigh and Lizzie dwell in a cottage so +secluded that, until you drop into the very hollow +where it is placed, you do not see it. Tom +is a schoolmaster in Rochdale, and he and Will +help to support their mother. I only know that, +if the cottage be hidden in a green hollow of +the hills, every sound of sorrow in the whole +upland is heard there—every call of suffering +or of sickness for help, is listened to by a sad, +gentle-looking woman, who rarely smiles (and +when she does, her smile is more sad than other +people's tears), but who comes out of her seclusion +whenever there's a shadow in any household. +Many hearts bless Lizzie Leigh, but she—she +prays always and ever for forgiveness—such +forgiveness as may enable her to see her +child once more. Mrs. Leigh is quiet and +happy. Lizzie is to her eyes something precious—as +the lost piece of silver—found once +more. Susan is the bright one who brings sunshine<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span> +to all. Children grow around her and call +her blessed. One is called Nanny. Her, Lizzie +often takes to the sunny grave-yard in the up-lands, +and while the little creature gathers the +daisies, and makes chains, Lizzie sits by a little +grave, and weeps bitterly.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>STEAM.</h2> + + +<p>How wonderful are the revolutions which +steam has wrought in the world! The +diamond, we are told, is but pure carbon; and +the dream of the alchymist has long been to disentomb +the gem in its translucent purity from +the sooty mass dug up from the coal-field. But +if the visionary has failed to extricate the fair +spirit from its earthly cerements, the practical +philosopher has produced from the grimy lump +a gem, in comparison to which the diamond is +valueless—has evoked a Titanic power, before +which the gods of ancient fable could not hold +their heaven for an hour; a power wielding +the thunderbolt of Jove, the sledge of Vulcan, +the club of Hercules; which takes to itself the +talaria of Mercury, the speed of Iris, and the +hundred arms of Briareus. Ay, the carbon gives +us, indeed, the diamond after all; the white and +feathery vapor that hisses from the panting tube, +is the priceless pearl of the modern utilitarian. +Without <span class="smcap">steam</span> man is nothing—a mere zoological +specimen—Lord Monboddo's ape, without +the caudal elongation of the vertebræ. With +steam, man is every thing. A creature that +unites in himself the nature and the power of +every animal; more wonderful than the ornithorhynchus—he +is fish, flesh, and fowl. He can +traverse the illimitable ocean with the gambolings +of the porpoise, and the snort of the whale; +rove through the regions of the earth with the +speed of the antelope, and the patient strength of +the camel; he essays to fly through the air with +the steam-wing of the aeronauticon, though as +yet his pinions are not well fledged, and his +efforts have been somewhat Icarian. And, albeit +our own steam aeronavigation is chiefly confined +to those involuntary gambols (as Sterne +happily called Sancho's blanket tossing), which +we now and then take at the instance of an exploding +boiler, yet may we have good hope that +our grandchildren will be able to "take the +wings of the morning," and sip their cup of tea +genuine at Pekin. He is more than human, and +little less than Divinity. Were Aristotle alive, +he would define the genus "homo"—neither as +"animal ridens," nor yet "animal sentiens," +but "Animal <span class="smcap">Vaporans</span>." True it is, doubtless, +that man alone can enjoy his joke. He +hath his laugh, when the monkey can but grin +and the ape jabber—his thinking he shares with +the dog and the elephant; but who is there that +can "get up the steam" but man? "Man," +say we, "is an animal that <span class="smcap">vaporeth</span>!" and we +will wager one of Stephenson's patent high-pressure +engines again our cook's potato-steamer, +that Dr. Whately will affirm our definition.—<i>Dublin +University Magazine.</i></p> + + +<p><a name="Page_50a" id="Page_50a"></a></p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3>[From The Ladies' Companion.]</h3> + +<h2>PAPERS ON WATER.—No. 1.</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">why is hard water unfit for domestic purposes?</span></h3> + + +<p>Few subjects have attracted more attention +among sanitary reformers, than the necessity +of obtaining a copious supply of water to +the dwellers in large cities. Experience has +shown that the supply should be at least twenty +gallons daily for each inhabitant, although forty +gallons are necessary to carry out to the full +extent all the sanitary improvements deemed +desirable for the well-being of a population. +But in looking to quantity of supply, quality has +been thought of less importance; there could +not be a more gross error, or one more fatal to +civic economy and domestic comfort. As we +are anxious to instruct the readers of this Journal +in the science of every-day life, we propose +to consider the subject of water-supply in some +detail, and in the present article to explain the +serious inconveniences which result from an injudicious +selection of hard water for domestic +purposes.</p> + +<p>The water found in springs, brooks, and rivers, +has its primary origin in the rain of the +district, unless there should happen to be some +accidental infiltration from the sea or other +great natural reservoirs. This rain, falling on +the upper soil, either runs off in streams, or, +percolating through it and the porous beds beneath, +gushes out in the form of springs wherever +it meets with an impervious bed which refuses +it a passage; pits sunk down to the latter detect +it there, and these form the ordinary wells. +In its passage through the pervious rocks, it +takes up soluble impurities, varying in their +amount and character with the nature of the +geological formations, these impurities being +either mineral, vegetable, or animal matter. +The mineral ingredients may be chalk, gypsum, +common salt, and different other compounds +but it is the earthy salts generally which impress +peculiar qualities on the water.</p> + +<p>The salts of lime and magnesia communicate +to water the quality termed <i>hardness</i>, a property +which every one understands, but which it +would be very difficult to describe. By far the +most common giver of hardness is chalk, or, as +chemists term it, carbonate of lime; a substance +not soluble in pure water, but readily so in water +containing carbonic acid. Rain water always +contains this acid, and is, therefore, a solvent +for the chalk disseminated in the different geological +formations through which it percolates. +Gypsum, familiarly known as plaster of Paris, +and termed sulphate of lime by chemists, is also +extensively diffused in rocks, and being itself +soluble in water, becomes a very common hardening +ingredient, though not of such frequent +occurrence as chalk. Any earthy salt, such as +chalk or gypsum, decomposes soap, and prevents +its action as a detergent. Soap consists +of an oily acid combined generally with soda. +Now, when this is added to water containing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span> +lime, that earth unites with the oily acid, forming +an insoluble soap, of no use as a detergent; +this insoluble lime-soap is the curd which appears +in hard water during washing with soap. +Hard water is of no use as a cleanser, until all +the lime has been removed by uniting with the +oily acid of the soap. Every hundred gallons +of Thames water destroy in this way thirty +ounces of soap before becoming a detergent. +But as this is an enormous waste, the dwellers +in towns, supplied with hard water, resort to +other methods of washing, so as to economize +soap. If our readers in London observe their +habits in washing, they will perceive that the +principal quantity of the water is used by them +not as a cleanser, but merely for the purposes of +rinsing off the very sparing amount employed +for detergent purposes. In London, we do not +wash ourselves <i>in</i> but <i>out</i> of the basin. A small +quantity of water is taken on the hands and +saturated with soap so as to form a lather; the +ablution is now made with this quantity, and +the water in the basin is only used to rinse it +off. The process of washing with soft water is +entirely different, the whole quantity being applied +as a detergent. To illustrate this difference +an experiment may be made, by washing +the hands alternately in rain and then in hard +water, such as that supplied to London; and +the value of the soft water for the purposes of +washing will be at once recognized. Even +without soap, the soft water moistens the hand, +while hard water flows off, just as if the skin +had been smeared with oil. Now, although the +soap may be economized in personal ablution +by the uncomfortable method here described, it +is impossible to obtain this economy in the +washing of linen. In this case, the whole of +the water must be saturated with soap before it +is available. Soda is, to a certain extent, substituted +with a view to economy, as much as +£30,000 worth of soda being annually used in +the metropolis to compensate for the hard quality +of the water; and, perhaps, as an approximative +calculation, £200,000 worth of soap is +annually wasted without being useful as a detergent. +This enormous tax on the community +results from the hardness both of the well and +river water; the former being generally much +harder than the latter. But this expense, large +as it may seem, is not the only consequence of +a bad water supply. The labor required to +wash with hard water is very much greater +than that necessary when it is soft, this labor +being represented in the excessive charges for +washing. In fact, extraordinary as it may appear, +it has recently been shown in evidence +before the General Board of Health, that the +washerwoman's interest in the community is +actually greater than that of the cotton-spinner, +with all his enormous capital. An instance of +this will suffice to show our meaning: a gentleman +buys one dozen shirts at a cost of £4, +three of these are washed every week, the +charge being fourpence each, making an annual +account of £2 12<i>s.</i> The set of shirts, with +careful management, lasts for three years, and +has cost in washing £7 16<i>s.</i> The cotton-spinner's +interest in the shirts and that of the +shirt-maker's combined, did not exceed £4, +while the washerwoman's interest is nearly +double. A considerable portion of this amount +is unavoidable; but a very large part is due to +the excessive charges for washing rendered +necessary by the waste of soap and increased +labor required for cleansing. A family in London, +with an annual income of £600, spends +about one-twelfth of the amount, or £50, in +the expenses of the laundry. On an average, +every person in London, rich and poor, spends +one shilling per week, or fifty-two shillings a +year for washing. Hence, at least five million +two hundred thousand pounds is the annual +amount expended in the metropolis alone for +this purpose. Yet, large as this amount is—and +it matters not whether it be represented in +the labors of household washing or that of the +professed laundress—it is obvious that the greatest +part of it is expended in actual labor, for the +washerwoman is rarely a rich or even a thriving +person. Hence, it follows that this labor, barely +remunerative as it is, must be made excessive +from some extraneous cause; for it is found by +experience that one-half the charge is ample +compensation in a country district supplied with +soft water. The tear and wear of clothes by +the system necessary for washing in hard water, +is very important in the economical consideration +of the question. The difference in this +respect, between hard and soft water, is very +striking. It has been calculated that the extra +cost to ladies in London in the one article of +collars, by the unnecessary tear and wear, as +compared with country districts, is not less +than, but probably much exceeds, £20,000.</p> + +<p>We now proceed to draw attention to the +inconvenience of hard water in cooking. It is +well known that greens, peas, French beans, +and other green vegetables, lose much of their +delicate color by being boiled in hard water. +They not only become yellow, but assume a +shriveled and disagreeable appearance, losing +much of their delicacy to the taste. For making +tea the evil is still more obvious. It is extremely +difficult to obtain a good infusion of tea with +hard water, however much may be wasted in +the attempt. We endeavor to overcome the +difficulty by the addition of soda, but the tea +thus made is always inferior. One reason of +this is, that it is difficult to adjust the quantity +of the soda. Tea contains nearly 16 per cent. +of cheese or casein, and this dissolves in water +rendered alkaline by soda; and although the +nutritious qualities are increased by this solution, +the delicacy of the flavor is impaired. +The water commonly used in London requires, +at the very least, one-fifth more tea to produce +an infusion of the same strength as that obtained +by soft water. This, calculated on the +whole amount of tea consumed in London, resolves +itself into a pecuniary consideration of +great magnitude.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span></p> + +<p>The effect of hard water upon the health of +the lower animals is very obvious. Horses, +sheep, and pigeons, refuse it whenever they can +obtain a supply of soft water. They prefer the +muddiest pool of the latter to the most brilliant +and sparkling spring of the former. In all of +them it produces colic, and sometimes more +serious diseases. The coats of horses drinking +hard water soon become rough, and stare, and +they quickly fall out of condition. It is not, +however, known that it exerts similar influences +upon the health of man, although analogy would +lead us to expect that a beverage unsuited to +the lower animals can not be favorable to the +human constitution. Persons with tender skins +can not wash in hard water, because the insoluble +salts left by evaporation produce an intolerable +irritation.</p> + +<p>In order to simplify the explanation of the +action of hard water, attention has been confined +to that possessing lime. But hard waters frequently +contain magnesia, and in that case a +very remarkable phenomenon attends their use. +At a certain strength the magnesian salt does +not decompose the soap, or retard the formation +of a lather, but the addition of soft water developes +this latent hardness. With such waters, +the extraordinary anomaly appears, that the +more soft water is added to them, up to a certain +point, the harder do they become. Some +of the wells at Doncaster are very remarkable +in this respect, for when their hard water is +diluted with eight times the quantity of pure +soft distilled water, the resulting mixture is as +hard—that is, it decomposes as much soap—as +the undiluted water. Thus the dilution of such +water with four or five times its bulk of soft +rain water actually makes it harder. The cause +of this anomaly has not yet been satisfactorily +made out, but it only occurs in waters abounding +in magnesia.</p> + +<p>Having now explained the inconveniences of +the hardening ingredients of water, we propose +to show in the next article the action of other +deteriorating constituents; and after having done +so, it will become our duty to point out the +various modes by which the evils thus exposed +may best be counteracted or remedied.</p> + +<p class="right"> +<span style="margin-right: 3em;">L.P.</span><br /> +</p> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>EARLY RISING.</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Did you but know, when bathed in dew,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How sweet the little violet grew,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Amidst the thorny brake;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How fragrant blew the ambient air,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O'er beds of primroses so fair,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Your pillow you'd forsake.<br /></span> +</div><br /><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Paler than the autumnal leaf,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or the wan hue of pining grief,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The cheek of sloth shall grow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor can cosmetic, wash, or ball,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nature's own favorite tints recall,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">If once you let them go.<br /></span> +<span class="i12"><span class="smcap">Herrick.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p><a name="Page_52a" id="Page_52a"></a></p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3>[From Household Words.]</h3> + +<h2>A TALE OF THE GOOD OLD TIMES.</h2> + + +<p>An alderman of the ancient borough of Beetlebury, +and churchwarden of the parish of St. +Wulfstan's, in the said borough, Mr. Blenkinsop +might have been called, in the language of the +sixteenth century, a man of worship. This title +would probably have pleased him very much, it +being an obsolete one, and he entertaining an +extraordinary regard for all things obsolete, +or thoroughly deserving to be so. He looked +up with profound veneration to the griffins which +formed the waterspouts of St. Wulfstan's church, +and he almost worshiped an old boot under the +name of a black jack, which on the affidavit of +a foresworn broker, he had bought for a drinking-vessel +of the sixteenth century. Mr. Blenkinsop +even more admired the wisdom of our ancestors +than he did their furniture and fashions. +He believed that none of their statutes and ordinances +could possibly be improved on, and in +this persuasion had petitioned parliament against +every just or merciful change, which, since he +had arrived at man's estate, had been in the +laws. He had successively opposed all the +Beetlebury improvements, gas, water-works, +infant schools, mechanics' institute, and library. +He had been active in an agitation against any +measure for the improvement of the public +health, and being a strong advocate of intra-mural +interment, was instrumental in defeating +an attempt to establish a pretty cemetery outside +Beetlebury. He had successfully resisted +a project for removing the pig-market from the +middle of High-street. Through his influence +the shambles, which were corporation property, +had been allowed to remain where they were, +namely, close to the Town-hall, and immediately +under his own and his brethren's noses. +In short, he had regularly, consistently, and +nobly done his best to frustrate every scheme +that was proposed for the comfort and advantage +of his fellow creatures. For this conduct he +was highly esteemed and respected, and, indeed, +his hostility to any interference with +disease, had procured him the honor of a public +testimonial; shortly after the presentation of +which, with several neat speeches, the cholera +broke out in Beetlebury.</p> + +<p>The truth is, that Mr. Blenkinsop's views on +the subject of public health and popular institutions +were supposed to be economical (though +they were, in truth, desperately costly), and +so pleased some of the rate-payers. Besides, +he withstood ameliorations, and defended nuisances +and abuses with all the heartiness of an +actual philanthropist. Moreover, he was a +jovial fellow—a boon companion; and his love +of antiquity leant particularly toward old ale and +old port wine. Of both of these beverages he had +been partaking rather largely at a visitation-dinner, +where, after the retirement of the bishop +and his clergy, festivities were kept up till late, +under the presidency of the deputy-registrar. +One of the last to quit the Crown and Mitre +was Mr. Blenkinsop.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span></p> + +<p>He lived in a remote part of the town, whither, +as he did not walk exactly in a right line, +it may be allowable perhaps, to say that he bent +his course. Many of the dwellers in Beetlebury +High-street, awakened at half-past twelve on +that night, by somebody passing below, singing, +not very distinctly,</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"With a jolly full bottle let each man be armed,"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>were indebted, little as they may have suspected +it, to Alderman Blenkinsop, for their serenade.</p> + +<p>In his homeward way stood the Market +Cross; a fine medieval structure, supported on a +series of circular steps by a groined arch, which +served as a canopy to the stone figure of an ancient +burgess. This was the effigies of Wynkyn +de Vokes, once mayor of Beetlebury, and +a great benefactor to the town; in which he +had founded almhouses and a grammar-school, +<span class="smcap">a.d.</span> 1440. The post was formerly occupied +by St. Wulfstan; but De Vokes had been removed +from the Town Hall in Cromwell's +time, and promoted to the vacant pedestal, <i>vice</i> +Wulfstan, demolished. Mr. Blenkinsop highly +revered this work of art, and he now stopped +to take a view of it by moonlight. In that +doubtful glimmer, it seemed almost life-like. +Mr. Blenkinsop had not much imagination, yet +he could well nigh fancy he was looking upon +the veritable Wynkyn, with his bonnet, beard, +furred gown, and staff, and his great book under +his arm. So vivid was this impression, that +it impelled him to apostrophize the statue.</p> + +<p>"Fine old fellow!" said Mr. Blenkinsop. +"Rare old buck! We shall never look upon +your like again. Ah! the good old times—the +jolly good old times! No times like the +good old times, my ancient worthy. No such +times as the good old times!"</p> + +<p>"And pray, sir, what times do you call the +good old times?" in distinct and deliberate +accents, answered—according to the positive +affirmation of Mr. Blenkinsop, subsequently +made before divers witnesses—the Statue.</p> + +<p>Mr. Blenkinsop is sure that he was in the +perfect possession of his senses. He is certain +that he was not the dupe of ventriloquism, or +any other illusion. The value of these convictions +must be a question between him and the +world, to whose perusal the facts of his tale, +simply as stated by himself, are here submitted.</p> + +<p>When first he heard the Statue speak, Mr. +Blenkinsop says, he certainly experienced a +kind of sudden shock, a momentary feeling of +consternation. But this soon abated in a wonderful +manner. The Statue's voice was quite mild +and gentle—not in the least grim—had no +funereal twang in it, and was quite different +from the tone a statue might be expected to +take by any body who had derived his notions +on that subject from having heard the representative +of the class in "Don Giovanni."</p> + +<p>"Well, what times do you mean by the good +old times?" repeated the Statue, quite familiarly. +The churchwarden was able to reply with some +composure, that such a question coming from +such a quarter had taken him a little by surprise.</p> + +<p>"Come, come, Mr. Blenkinsop," said the +Statue, "don't be astonished. 'Tis half-past +twelve, and a moonlight night, as your favorite +police, the sleepy and infirm old watchman, +says. Don't you know that we statues are apt +to speak when spoken to, at these hours? Collect +yourself. I will help you to answer my +own question. Let us go back step by step; +and allow me to lead you. To begin. By the +good old times, do you mean the reign of George +the Third?"</p> + +<p>"The last of them, sir," replied Mr. Blenkinsop, +very respectfully, "I am inclined to +think, were seen by the people who lived in +those days."</p> + +<p>"I should hope so," the Statue replied. +"Those the good old old times? What! Mr. +Blenkinsop, when men were hanged by dozens, +almost weekly, for paltry thefts. When a nursing +woman was dragged to the gallows with +a child at her breast, for shop-lifting, to the +value of a shilling. When you lost your American +colonies, and plunged into war with France, +which, to say nothing of the useless bloodshed +it cost, has left you saddled with the national +debt. Surely you will not call these the good +old times, will you, Mr. Blenkinsop?"</p> + +<p>"Not exactly, sir; no, on reflection I don't +know that I can," answered Mr. Blenkinsop. He +had now—it was such a civil, well-spoken statue—lost +all sense of the preternatural horror of +his situation, and scratched his head, just as if +he had been posed in argument by an ordinary +mortal.</p> + +<p>"Well then," resumed the Statue, "my dear +sir, shall we take the two or three reigns preceding? +What think you of the then existing state +of prisons and prison discipline? Unfortunate +debtors confined indiscriminately with felons, in +the midst of filth, vice, and misery unspeakable. +Criminals under sentence of death tippling +in the condemned cell, with the Ordinary +for their pot-companion. Flogging, a common +punishment of women convicted of larceny. +What say you of the times when London streets +were absolutely dangerous, and the passenger +ran the risk of being hustled and robbed even +in the daytime? When not only Hounslow and +Bagshot Heath, but the public roads swarmed +with robbers, and a stage-coach was as frequently +plundered as a hen-roost. When, indeed, +'the road' was esteemed the legitimate +resource of a gentleman in difficulties, and a +highwayman was commonly called 'Captain'—if +not respected accordingly. When cock-fighting, +bear-baiting, and bull-baiting were popular, +nay, fashionable amusements. When the bulk +of the landed gentry could barely read and +write, and divided their time between fox-hunting +and guzzling. When duelist was a hero, +and it was an honor to have 'killed your man.' +When a gentleman could hardly open his mouth +without uttering a profane or filthy oath. When<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span> +the country was continually in peril of civil war; +through a disputed succession; and two murderous +insurrections, followed by more murderous +executions, actually took place. This era +of inhumanity, shamelessness, brigandage, brutality, +and personal and political insecurity, what +say you of it, Mr. Blenkinsop? Do you regard +this wig and pigtail period as constituting the +good old times, respected friend?"</p> + +<p>"There was Queen Anne's golden reign, sir," +deferentially suggested Mr. Blenkinsop.</p> + +<p>"A golden reign!" exclaimed the Statue. +"A reign of favoritism and court trickery at +home, and profitless war abroad. The time of +Bolingbroke's, and Harley's, and Churchill's intrigues. +The reign of Sarah, Duchess of Marlborough +and of Mrs. Masham. A golden fiddlestick! +I imagine you must go farther back +yet for your good old times, Mr. Blenkinsop."</p> + +<p>"Well," answered the churchwarden, "I +suppose I must, sir, after what you say."</p> + +<p>"Take William the Third's rule," pursued +the Statue. "War, war again; nothing but +war. I don't think you'll particularly call these +the good old times. Then what will you say +to those of James the Second? Were they the +good old times when Judge Jefferies sat on the +bench? When Monmouth's rebellion was followed +by the Bloody Assize. When the king +tried to set himself above the law, and lost +his crown in consequence. Does your worship +fancy these were the good old times?"</p> + +<p>Mr. Blenkinsop admitted that he could not +very well imagine that they were.</p> + +<p>"Were Charles the Second's the good old +times?" demanded the Statue. "With a court +full of riot and debauchery; a palace much less +decent than any modern casino; while Scotch +Covenanters were having their legs crushed in +the 'Boots,' under the auspices and personal +superintendence of His Royal Highness the +Duke of York. The time of Titus Oates, +Bedloe, and Dangerfield, and their sham plots, +with the hangings, drawings, and quarterings, +on perjured evidence, that followed them. When +Russell and Sidney were judicially murdered. +The time of the great plague and fire of London. +The public money wasted by roguery and embezzlement, +while sailors lay starving in the +streets for want of their just pay; the Dutch +about the same time burning our ships in the +Medway. My friend, I think you will hardly +call the scandalous monarchy of the 'Merry +Monarch' the good old times."</p> + +<p>"I feel the difficulty which you suggest, sir," +owned Mr. Blenkinsop.</p> + +<p>"Now, that a man of your loyalty," pursued +the Statue, "should identify the good old times +with Cromwell's Protectorate, is, of course, out +of the question."</p> + +<p>"Decidedly, sir!" exclaimed Mr. Blenkinsop. +"<i>He</i> shall not have a statue, though you enjoy +that honor," bowing.</p> + +<p>"And yet," said the Statue, "with all its +faults, this era was perhaps no worse than any +we have discussed yet. Never mind! It was +a dreary, cant-ridden one, and if you don't think +those England's palmy days, neither do I. +There's the previous reign, then. During the +first part of it, there was the king endeavoring to +assert arbitrary power. During the latter, the +Parliament were fighting against him in the +open field. What ultimately became of him I +need not say. At what stage of King Charles +the First's career did the good old times exist, +Mr. Alderman? I need barely mention the +Star Chamber and poor Prynne; and I merely +allude to the fate of Strafford and of Laud. On +consideration, should you fix the good old times +any where thereabouts?"</p> + +<p>"I am afraid not, indeed, sir," Mr. Blenkinsop +responded, tapping his forehead.</p> + +<p>"What is your opinion of James the First's +reign? Are you enamored of the good old +times of the Gunpowder Plot? or when Sir +Walter Raleigh was beheaded? or when hundreds +of poor, miserable old women were burnt +alive for witchcraft, and the royal wiseacre on +the throne wrote as wise a book, in defense of +the execrable superstition through which they +suffered?"</p> + +<p>Mr. Blenkinsop confessed himself obliged to +give up the times of James the First.</p> + +<p>"Now, then," continued the Statue, "we +come to Elizabeth."</p> + +<p>"There I've got you!" interrupted Mr +Blenkinsop, exultingly. "I beg your pardon, +sir," he added, with a sense of the freedom he +had taken; "but everybody talks of the times +of Good Queen Bess, you know."</p> + +<p>"Ha, ha!" laughed the Statue, not at all +like Zamiel, or Don Guzman, or a pavior's +rammer, but really with unaffected gayety. +"Everybody sometimes says very foolish things. +Suppose Everybody's lot had been cast under +Elizabeth! How would Everybody have relished +being subject to the jurisdiction of the +Ecclesiastical Commission, with its power of +imprisonment, rack, and torture? How would +Everybody have liked to see his Roman Catholic +and Dissenting fellow-subjects butchered, fined, +and imprisoned for their opinions; and charitable +ladies butchered, too, for giving them shelter in +the sweet compassion of their hearts? What +would Everybody have thought of the murder +of Mary Queen of Scots? Would Everybody, +would Anybody, would <i>you</i>, wish to have lived +in these days, whose emblems are cropped ears, +pillory, stocks, thumb-screws, gibbet, ax, chopping-block, +and scavenger's daughter? Will +you take your stand upon this stage of history +for the good old times, Mr. Blenkinsop?"</p> + +<p>"I should rather prefer firmer and safer +ground, to be sure, upon the whole," answered +the worshiper of antiquity, dubiously.</p> + +<p>"Well, now," said the Statue, "'tis getting +late, and, unaccustomed as I am to conversational +speaking, I must be brief. Were those the good +old times when Sanguinary Mary roasted bishops, +and lighted the fires of Smithfield? When Henry +the Eighth, the British Bluebeard, cut his wives +heads off, and burnt Catholic and Protestant at<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span> +the same stake? When Richard the Third +smothered his nephews in the Tower? When +the Wars of the Roses deluged the land with +blood? When Jack Cade marched upon London? +When we were disgracefully driven out +of France under Henry the Sixth, or, as disgracefully, +went marauding there, under Henry +the Fifth? Were the good old times those of +Northumberland's rebellion? Of Richard the +Second's assassination? Of the battles, burnings, +massacres, cruel tormentings, and atrocities, +which form the sum of the Plantagenet +reigns? Of John's declaring himself the Pope's +vassal, and performing dental operations on the +Jews? Of the Forest Laws and Curfew under +the Norman kings? At what point of this +series of bloody and cruel annals will you place +the times which you praise? Or do your good +old times extend over all that period when somebody +or other was constantly committing high +treason, and there was a perpetual exhibition of +heads on London Bridge and Temple Bar?"</p> + +<p>It was allowed by Mr. Blenkinsop that either +alternative presented considerable difficulty.</p> + +<p>"Was it in the good old times that Harold +fell at Hastings, and William the Conqueror +enslaved England? Were those blissful years +the ages of monkery; of Odo and Dunstan, +bearding monarchs and branding queens? Of +Danish ravage and slaughter? Or were they +those of the Saxon Heptarchy, and the worship +of Thor and Odin? Of the advent of Hengist +and Horsa? Of British subjugation by the +Romans? Or, lastly, must we go back to the +ancient Britons, Druidism, and human sacrifices, +and say that those were the real, unadulterated, +genuine, good old times, when the true-blue +natives of this island went naked, painted +with woad?"</p> + +<p>"Upon my word, sir," said Mr. Blenkinsop, +"after the observations that I have heard from +you this night, I acknowledge that I <i>do</i> feel +myself rather at a loss to assign a precise period +to the times in question."</p> + +<p>"Shall I do it for you?" asked the Statue.</p> + +<p>"If you please, sir. I should be very much +obliged if you would," replied the bewildered +Blenkinsop, greatly relieved.</p> + +<p>"The best times, Mr. Blenkinsop," said the +Statue, "are the oldest. They are the wisest; +for the older the world grows, the more experience +it acquires. It is older now than ever it +was. The oldest and best times the world has +yet seen are the present. These, so far as we +have yet gone, are the genuine good old times, +sir."</p> + +<p>"Indeed, sir!" ejaculated the astonished alderman.</p> + +<p>"Yes, my good friend. These are the best +times that we know of—bad as the best may +be. But in proportion to their defects, they +afford room for amendment. Mind that, sir, in +the future exercise of your municipal and political +wisdom. Don't continue to stand in the +light which is gradually illuminating human +darkness. The Future is the date of that happy +period which your imagination has fixed in the +Past. It will arrive when all shall do what in +right; hence none shall suffer what is wrong. +The true good old times are yet to come."</p> + +<p>"Have you any idea when, sir?" Mr. Blenkinsop +inquired, modestly.</p> + +<p>"That is a little beyond me," the Statue answered. +"I can not say how long it will take +to convert the Blenkinsops. I devoutly wish you +may live to see them. And with that, I wish +you good-night, Mr. Blenkinsop."</p> + +<p>"Sir," returned Mr. Blenkinsop, with a profound +bow, "I have the honor to wish you the +same."</p> + +<p>Mr. Blenkinsop returned home an altered +man. This was soon manifest. In a few days +he astonished the Corporation by proposing the +appointment of an Officer of Health to preside +over the sanitary affairs of Beetlebury. It had +already transpired that he had consented to the +introduction of lucifer-matches into his domestic +establishment, in which, previously, he had insisted +on sticking to the old tinder-box. Next, +to the wonder of all Beetlebury, he was the first +to propose a great, new school, and to sign a +requisition that a county penitentiary might be +established for the reformation of juvenile offenders. +The last account of him is, that he has +not only become a subscriber to the mechanics' +institute, but that he actually presided there at, +lately, on the occasion of a lecture on +Geology.</p> + +<p>The remarkable change which has occurred +in Mr. Blenkinsop's views and principles, he +himself refers to his conversation with the Statue, +as above related. That narrative, however, his +fellow-townsmen receive with incredulous expressions, +accompanied by gestures and grimaces +of like import. They hint, that Mr. Blenkinsop +had been thinking for himself a little, and only +wanted a plausible excuse for recanting his +errors. Most of his fellow-aldermen believe +him mad; not less on account of his new moral +and political sentiments, so very different from +their own, than of his Statue story. When it +has been suggested to them that he has only +had his spectacles cleaned, and has been looking +about him, they shake their heads, and say that +he had better have left his spectacles alone, and +that a little knowledge is a dangerous thing, and +a good deal of dirt quite the contrary. <i>Their</i> +spectacles have never been cleaned, they say, +and any one may see they don't want cleaning.</p> + +<p>The truth seems to be, that Mr. Blenkinsop +has found an altogether new pair of spectacles, +which enable him to see in the right direction. +Formerly, he could only look backward; he +now looks forward to the grand object that all +human eyes should have in view—progressive +improvement.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p>He who can not live well to-day, will be less +qualified to live well to-morrow.—<span class="smcap">Martial</span>.</p> + +<p>Men are harassed, not by things themselves +but by opinions respecting them.—<span class="smcap">Epictetus</span>.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3>[From the Dublin University Magazine.]</h3> + +<h2>MEMOIRS OF THE FIRST DUCHESS OF ORLEANS.</h2> + + +<p>While the fortunes of the last Duchess of +Orleans are still in uncertainty, it may not +be unpleasing to read something of the family +and character of the first princess who bore that +title. The retrospect will carry us back to stirring +times, and make us acquainted with the virtues +and sufferings, as well as the crimes, which +mark the family history of the great European +houses. The story of Valentina Visconti links +the history of Milan with that of Paris, and imparts +an Italian grace and tenderness to the +French annals. Yet although herself one of the +gentlest of women, she was sprung from the +fiercest of men. The history of the rise and +progress of the family of Visconti is, in truth, +one of the most characteristic that the Lombardic +annalists have preserved.</p> + +<p>The Sforzias, called Visconti from their hereditary +office of <i>Vicecomes</i>, or temporal vicar of +the Emperor, were a marked and peculiar race. +With the most ferocious qualities, they combined +high intellectual refinement, and an elegant and +cultivated taste, in all that was excellent in art, +architecture, poetry, and classical learning. The +founder of the family was Otho, Archbishop of +Milan at the close of the 13th century. He extended +his vicarial authority into a virtual sovereignty +of the Lombard towns, acknowledging +only the German Emperor as his feudal lord. +This self-constituted authority he transmitted to +his nephew Matteo, "Il grande." In the powerful +hands of Matteo the Magnificent, Milan +became the capital of a virtual Lombardic kingdom. +Three of the sons of Matteo were successively +"tyrants" of Milan, the designation +being probably used in its classical, rather than +its modern sense. Galeazzo, the eldest, was +succeeded by his son Azzo, the only one of the +male representatives of the Visconti who exhibited +any of the milder characteristics befitting the +character of a virtuous prince. Luchino, his +uncle and successor, was, however, a patron of +learning, and has had the good fortune to transmit +his name to us in illustrious company. At +his court, in other respects contaminated by vice, +and made infamous by cruelty, the poet Petrarch +found a home and a munificent patron. Luchino +cultivated his friendship. The poet was not +above repaying attentions so acceptable by a no +less acceptable flattery. Petrarch's epistle, +eulogizing the virtues and recounting the glory +of the tyrant, remains a humiliating record of the +power of wealth and greatness, and the pliability +of genius.</p> + +<p>Luchino's fate was characteristic. His wife, +Isabella of Fieschi, had frequently suffered from +his caprice and jealousy; at length she learned +that he had resolved on putting her to death. +Forced to anticipate his cruel intent, she poisoned +him with the very drugs he had designed for +her destruction.</p> + +<p>Luchino was succeeded by his brother Giovanni, +Archbishop of Milan, the ablest of the +sons of Matteo. Under his unscrupulous administration +the Milanese territory was extended, +until almost the whole of Lombardy was brought +under the yoke of the vigorous and subtle tyrant. +Although an ecclesiastic, he was as prompt to +use the temporal as the spiritual sword. On his +accession to power, Pope Clement the Sixth, +then resident at Avignon, summoned him to appear +at his tribunal to answer certain charges of +heresy and schism. The papal legate sent with +this commission had a further demand to make +on behalf of the Pontiff—the restitution of Bologna, +a fief of the church, which had been +seized by the Milanese prelate, Giovanni Visconti, +as well as the cession, by the latter, of +either his temporal or spiritual authority, which +the legate declared could not be lawfully united +in the person of an archbishop. Giovanni insisted +that the legate should repeat the propositions +with which he was charged at church on the +following Sunday: as prince and bishop he could +only receive such a message in the presence of +his subjects and the clergy of his province. On +the appointed day, the archbishop having celebrated +high-mass with unusual splendor, the legate +announced the message with which he was +charged by his Holiness. The people listened +in silence, expecting a great discussion. But +their astonishment was not greater than that of +the legate, when Archbishop Giovanni stepped +forth, with his crucifix in one hand, while with +the other he drew from beneath his sacerdotal +robes a naked sword, and exclaimed, "Behold +the spiritual and temporal arms of Giovanni Visconti! +By the help of God, with the one I will +defend the other."</p> + +<p>The legate could obtain no other answer +save that the archbishop declared that he had +no intention of disobeying the pontiff's citation +to appear at Avignon. He accordingly prepared, +indeed, to enter such an appearance as +would prevent citations of that kind in future.</p> + +<p>He sent, as his precursor, a confidential secretary, +with orders to make suitable preparations +for his reception. Thus commissioned, the +secretary proceeded to hire every vacant house +in the city and surrounding neighborhood, within +a circuit of several miles; and made enormous +contracts for the supply of furniture and provisions +for the use of the archbishop and his +suite. These astounding preparations soon +reached the ears of Clement. He sent for the +secretary, and demanded the meaning of these +extraordinary proceedings. The secretary replied, +that he had instructions from his master, +the Archbishop of Milan, to provide for the +reception of 12,000 knights and 6,000 foot soldiers, +exclusive of the Milanese gentlemen who +would accompany their lord when he appeared +at Avignon, in compliance with his Holiness's +summons. Clement, quite unprepared for such +a visit, only thought how he should extricate +himself from so great a dilemma. He wrote to +the haughty Visconti, begging that he would not +put himself to the inconvenience of such a journey:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span> +and, lest this should not be sufficient to +deter him, proposed to grant him the investiture +of Bologna—the matter in dispute between +them—for a sum of money: a proposal readily +assented to by the wealthy archbishop.</p> + +<p>Giovanni Visconti bequeathed to the three +sons of his brother Stephano a well-consolidated +power; and, for that age, an enormous accumulation +of wealth. The Visconti were the most +skillful of financiers. Without overburthening +their subjects, they had ever a well-filled treasury—frequently +recruited, it is true, by the +plunder of their enemies, or replenished by the +contributions they levied on neighboring cities. +The uniform success which attended their negotiations +in these respects, encouraged them in +that intermeddling policy they so often pursued. +We can scarcely read without a smile the +proclamations of their generals to the inoffensive +cities, of whose affairs they so kindly undertook +the unsolicited management.</p> + +<p>"It is no unworthy design which has brought +us hither," the general would say to the citizens +of the towns selected for these disinterested +interventions; "we are here to re-establish +order, to destroy the dissensions and secret animosities +which divide the people (say) of Tuscany. +We have formed the unalterable resolution +to reform the abuses which abound in all +the Tuscan cities. If we can not attain our +object by mild persuasions, we will succeed by +the strong hand of power. Our chief has commanded +us to conduct his armies to the gates of +your city, to attack you at our swords' point, +and to deliver over your property to be pillaged, +unless (solely for your own advantage) you +show yourselves pliant in conforming to his +benevolent advice."</p> + +<p>Giovanni Visconti, as we have intimated, was +succeeded by his nephews. The two younger +evinced the daring military talent which distinguished +their race. Matteo, the eldest, on +the contrary, abandoned himself to effeminate +indulgences. His brothers, Bernabos and Galeazzo, +would have been well pleased that he +should remain a mere cipher, leaving the management +of affairs in their hands; but they +soon found that his unrestrained licentiousness +endangered the sovereignty of all. On one occasion +a complaint was carried to the younger +brothers by an influential citizen. Matteo Visconti, +having heard that this citizen's wife was +possessed of great personal attractions, sent for +her husband, and informed him that he designed +her for an inmate of his palace, commanding +him, upon pain of death, to fetch her immediately. +The indignant burgher, in his perplexity, +claimed the protection of Bernabos and +Galeazzo. The brothers perceived that inconvenient +consequences were likely to ensue. A +dose of poison, that very day, terminated the +brief career of Matteo the voluptuous.</p> + +<p>Of the three brothers, Bernabos was the most +warlike and the most cruel; Galeazzo the most +subtle and politic. Laboring to cement his +power by foreign alliances, he purchased from +John, king of France, his daughter, Isabelle de +Valois, as the bride of his young son and heir; +and procured the hand of Lionel, Duke of Clarence, +son of Edward III. of England, for his +daughter Violante. While Galeazzo pursued +these peaceful modes of aggrandizement, Bernabos +waged successful war on his neighbors, +subjecting to the most refined cruelties all who +questioned his authority. It was he who first +reduced the practice of the torture to a perfect +system, extending over a period of forty-one +days. During this period, every alternate day, +the miserable victim suffered the loss of some +of his members—an eye, a finger, an ear—until +at last his torments ended on the fatal wheel. +Pope after pope struggled in vain against these +powerful tyrants. They laughed at excommunication, +or only marked the fulmination of a +papal bull by some fresh act of oppression on +the clergy subject to their authority. On one +occasion Urban the Fifth sent Bernabos his bull +of excommunication, by two legates. Bernabos +received the pontifical message unmoved. He +manifested no irritation—no resentment; but +courteously escorted the legates, on their return, +as far as one of the principal bridges in +Milan. Here he paused, about to take leave +of them. "It would be inhospitable to permit +you to depart," he said, addressing the legates, +"without some refreshment; choose—will you +eat or drink?" The legates, terrified at the +tone in which the compliment was conveyed, +declined his proffered civility. "Not so," he +exclaimed, with a terrible oath; "you shall not +leave my city without some remembrance of +me; say, will you eat or drink?" The affrighted +legates, perceiving themselves surrounded +by the guards of the tyrant, and in immediate +proximity to the river, felt no taste for drinking. +"We had rather eat," said they; "the <i>sight</i> of +so much water is sufficient to quench our thirst." +"Well, then," rejoined Bernabos, "here are +the bulls of excommunication which you have +brought to me; you shall not pass this bridge +until you have eaten, in my presence, the parchments +on which they are written, the leaden +seals affixed to them, and the silken cords by +which they are attached." The legates urged +in vain the sacred character of their offices of +embassador and priest: Bernabos kept his +word; and they were left to digest the insult +as best they might. Bernabos and his brother, +after having disposed of Matteo, became, as +companions in crime usually do, suspicious of +one another. In particular, each feared that +the other would poison him. Those banquets +and entertainments to which they treated one +another must have been scenes of magnificent +discomfort.</p> + +<p>Galeazzo died first. His son, Giovanni-Galeazzo, +succeeded, and matched the unscrupulous ambition +of his uncle with a subtlety equal +to his own. Not satisfied with a divided sway, +he maneuvered unceasingly until he made himself +master of the persons of Bernabos and his +two sons. The former he kept a close prisoner<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span> +for seven months, and afterward put to death by +poison. The cruelty and pride of Bernabos had +rendered him so odious to his subjects, that they +made no effort on his behalf, but submitted without +opposition to the milder government of Giovanni-Galeazzo. +He was no less successful in +obtaining another object of his ambition. He +received from the Emperor Wenceslaus the investiture +and dukedom of Milan, for which he +paid the sum of 100,000 florins, and now saw +himself undisputed master of Lombardy.</p> + +<p>The court of Milan, during such a period, +seems a strange theatre for the display of graceful +and feminine virtues. Yet it was here, and +under the immediate eye of her father, this very +Giovanni-Galeazzo, that Valentina Visconti, one +of the most amiable female characters of history, +passed the early days of her eventful life. As +the naturalist culls a wild flower from the brink +of the volcano, the historian of the dynasty of +Milan pauses to contemplate her pure and +graceful character, presenting itself among the +tyrants, poisoners, murderers, and infidels who +founded the power and amassed the wealth of +her family. It would be sad to think that the +families of the wicked men of history partook +of the crimes of their parents. But we must +remember that virtue has little charm for the +annalist; he records what is most calculated to +excite surprise or awake horror, but takes no +notice of the unobtrusive ongoings of those who +live and die in peace and quietness. We may +be sure that among the patrons of Petrarch there +was no want of refinement, or of the domestic +amenities with which a youthful princess, and +only child, ought to be surrounded. In fact, +we have been left the most permanent and practical +evidences of the capacity of these tyrants +for the enjoyment of the beautiful. The majestic +cathedral of Milan is a monument of the noble +architectural taste of Valentina's father. In the +midst of donjons and fortress-palaces it rose, an +embodiment of the refining influence of religion; +bearing in many respects a likeness to the fair +and innocent being whose fortunes we are about +to narrate, and who assisted at its foundation. +The progress of the building was slow; it was not +till a more magnificent usurper than any of the +Visconti assumed the iron-crown of Lombardy, +in our own generation, that the general design +of the Duomo of Milan was completed. Many +of the details still remain unfinished; many statues +to be placed on their pinnacles; some to be +replaced on the marble stands from which they +were overthrown by the cannon of Radetski. +Of the old castle of the Visconti two circular +towers and a curtain wall alone remain: its +court-yard is converted into a barrack, its moats +filled up, its terraced gardens laid down as an +esplanade for the troops of the Austrian garrison. +The family of the Visconti have perished. +Milan, so long the scene of their glory, and +afterward the battle-ground of contending claimants, +whose title was derived through them, has +ceased to be the capital of a free and powerful +Italian state: but the Cathedral, after a growth +of nearly four centuries, is still growing; and +the name of the gentle Valentina, so early associated +with the majestic Gothic edifice, "smells +sweet, and blossoms in the dust."</p> + +<p>The year after the foundation of the Duomo, +Valentina Visconti became the bride of Louis +Duke of Orleans, only brother to the reigning +monarch of France, Charles VI. Their politic +father, the wise King Charles, had repaired the +disasters occasioned by the successful English +invasion, and the long captivity of John the Second. +The marriage of Valentina and Louis +was considered highly desirable by all parties. +The important town of Asti, with an immense +marriage portion in money, was bestowed by +Giovanni-Galeazzo on his daughter. A brilliant +escort of the Lombard chivalry accompanied +the "promessa sposa" to the French frontier.</p> + +<p>Charles VI. made the most magnificent preparations +for the reception of his destined sister-in-law. +The weak but amiable monarch, ever +delighting in fêtes and entertainments, could +gratify his childish taste, while displaying a +delicate consideration and brotherly regard for +Louis of Orleans. The marriage was to be celebrated +at Mélun. Fountains of milk and choice +wine played to the astonishment and delight of +the bourgeois. There were jousts and tournaments, +masks, and banquets, welcoming the +richly-dowered daughter of Milan. All promised +a life of secured happiness; she was wedded +to the brave and chivalrous Louis of Orleans, +the pride and darling of France. He was eminently +handsome; and his gay, graceful, and +affable manners gained for him the strong personal +attachment of all who surrounded him. +But, alas! for Valentina and her dream of happiness, +Louis was a profligate; she found herself, +from the first moment of her marriage, a neglected +wife: her modest charms and gentle +deportment had no attractions for her volatile +husband. The early years of her wedded life +were passed in solitude and uncomplaining sorrow. +She bore her wrongs in dignified silence. +Her quiet endurance, her pensive gentleness, +never for a moment yielded; nor was she ever +heard to express an angry or bitter sentiment. +Still she was not without some consolation; she +became the mother of promising children, on +whom she could bestow the treasures of love +and tenderness, of the value of which the dissolute +Louis was insensible. Affliction now began +to visit the French palace. Charles VI. +had long shown evidences of a weak intellect. +The events of his youth had shaken a mind +never robust: indeed they were such as one can +not read of even now without emotion.</p> + +<p>During his long minority the country, which, +under the prudent administration of his father, +had well nigh recovered the defeats of Cressy +and Poietiers, had been torn by intestine commotions. +The regency was in the hands of the +young king's uncles, the dukes of Anjou and +Burgundy. The latter inheriting by his wife, +who was heiress of Flanders, the rich provinces +bordering France on the northeast, in addition<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span> +to his province of Burgundy, found himself, in +some respects, more powerful than his sovereign. +The commercial prosperity of the Low Countries +filled his coffers with money, and the hardy +Burgundian population gave him, at command, +a bold and intrepid soldiery.</p> + +<p>From his earliest years, Charles had manifested +a passion for the chase. When about +twelve years old, in the forest of Senlis, he had +encountered a stag, bearing a collar with the +inscription, "<i>Cæsar hoc mihi donavit</i>." This +wonderful stag appeared to him in a dream a +few years afterward, as he lay in his tent before +Roosebeke in Flanders, whither he had been led +by his uncle of Burgundy to quell an insurrection +of the citizens of Ghent, headed by the famous +Philip van Artevelde. Great had been the +preparations of the turbulent burghers. Protected +by their massive armor, they formed +themselves into a solid square bristling with +pikes. The French cavalry, armed with lances, +eagerly waited for the signal of attack. The +signal was to be the unfurling of the oriflamme, +the sacred banner of France, which had never +before been displayed but when battling against +infidels. It had been determined, on this occasion, +to use it against the Flemings because they +rejected the authority of Pope Clement, calling +themselves Urbanists, and were consequently +looked on by the French as excluded from the +pale of the church. As the young king unfurled +this formidable banner, the sun, which had for +days been obscured by a lurid fog, suddenly +shone forth with unwonted brilliancy. A dove, +which had long hovered over the king's battalion, +at the same time settled on the flag-staff.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Now, by the lips of those you love, fair gentlemen of France,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Charge for the golden lilies—upon them with the lance!"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>The French chivalry did indeed execute a +memorable charge on these burghers of Ghent. +Their lance points reached a yard beyond the +heads of the Flemish pikes. The Flemings, +unable to return or parry their thrusts, fell back +on all sides. The immense central mass of +human beings thus forcibly compressed, shrieked +and struggled in vain. Gasping for breath, +they perished, <i>en masse</i>, suffocated by the compression, +and crushed under the weight of their +heavy armor. A reward had been offered for +the body of Philip van Artevelde: it was found +amid a heap of slain, and brought to the king's +pavilion. The young monarch gazed on the +mortal remains of his foe, but no wound could +be discovered on the body of the Flemish leader—he +had perished from suffocation. The corpse +was afterward hanged on the nearest tree. +When the king surveyed this horrible yet bloodless +field, the appalling spectacle of this mass +of dead, amounting, it is said, to 34,000 corpses, +was more than his mind could bear. From this +period unmistakable evidences of his malady +became apparent. The marvelous stag took +possession of his fancy; it seemed to him the +emblem of victory, and he caused it to be introduced +among the heraldic insignia of the kingdom.</p> + +<p>In his sixteenth year, the king selected, as +the partner of his throne, the beautiful Isabeau +of Bavaria. She also was a Visconti by the +mother's side, her father having wedded one of +the daughters of Bernabos. In her honor various +costly fêtes had been given. On one of these +occasions the royal bridegroom displayed his +eccentricity in a characteristic manner. The +chroniclers of the time have given us very +detailed accounts of these entertainments. The +costumes were extravagantly fantastic: ladies +carried on their head an enormous <i>hennin</i>, a very +cumbrous kind of head-dress, surmounted by +horns of such dimensions, that their exit or +entrance into an apartment was a work of considerable +difficulty. The shoes were equally +absurd and inconvenient; their pointed extremities, +half a yard in length, were turned up and +fastened to the knees in various grotesque forms. +The robes, the long open sleeves of which swept +the ground, were emblazoned with strange +devices. Among the personal effects of one of +the royal princes we find an inventory of about +a thousand pearls used in embroidering on a +robe the words and music of a popular song.</p> + +<p>The chronicle of the <i>Religieux de St. Denis</i> +describes one of these masked balls, which was +held in the court-yard of that venerable abbey, +temporarily roofed over with tapestries for the +occasion. The sons of the Duke of Anjou, +cousins of the king, were prepared to invade +Naples, in right of their father, to whom Joanna +of Naples had devised that inheritance. Previous +to their departure, their royal cousin resolved to +confer on them the order of knighthood. An +immense concourse of guests were invited to +witness the splendid ceremonial, and take part +in the jousts and tournaments which were to +follow. The king had selected a strange scene +for these gay doings. The Abbey of St. Denis +was the last resting-place of the kings of France. +Here mouldered the mortal remains of his predecessors, +and here were to repose his bones +when he, too, should be "gathered to his +fathers." The celebrated "Captain of the +Companies," the famous du Guesclin, the saviour +of France in the reign of his father, had paid +the debt of nature many years before, and +reposed there among the mortal remains of +those whose throne he had guarded so well. +The astonishment of the guests was extreme, +when it appeared that the exhumation and reinterment +of du Guesclin formed part of the +programme of the revels. The old warrior was +taken up, the funeral rites solemnly gone through, +three hundred livres appropriated to the pious +use of masses for his soul, and the revelers dismissed +to meditate on the royal eccentricities.</p> + +<p>The murder of the Constable of France, Oliver +de Clisson, followed soon after, and quite completed +the break down of poor Charles's mind. +This powerful officer of the crown had long +been feared and hated by the great feudal lords<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span> +especially by the Duke of Brittany, who entertained +an absurd jealousy of the one-eyed hero. +Although Clisson, by his decisive victory at +Auray, had secured to him the contested dukedom +of Brittany, the jealous duke treacherously +arrested his benefactor and guest, whom he kept +prisoner in the dungeons of his castle of La +Motte. In the first transports of his fury the +duke had given orders that de Clisson should be +put to death; but his servants, fearing the consequences +of so audacious an act, left his commands +unexecuted. Eventually, the Constable +was permitted by his captor to purchase his +freedom, a condition which was no sooner complied +with, than the duke repented having +allowed his foe to escape from his hands. He +now suborned Pierre de Craon, a personal +enemy of de Clisson, to be the executioner of +his vengeance. The Constable was returning +to his hotel, having spent a festive evening with +his sovereign, when he was set on by his assassins. +He fell, covered with wounds, and was +left for dead. To increase his torments, the +murderer announced to him, as he fell, his name +and motives. But, though severely injured, +Clisson was yet alive. The noise of the conflict +reached the king, who was just retiring to rest. +He hastened to the spot. His bleeding minister +clung to his robe, and implored him to swear +that he should be avenged.</p> + +<p>"My fidelity to your majesty has raised up +for me powerful enemies: this is my only +crime. Whether I recover or perish from my +wounds, swear to me that I shall not be unavenged."</p> + +<p>"I shall never rest, so help me God," replied +the excited monarch, "until the authors +of this audacious crime shall be brought to +justice."</p> + +<p>Charles kept his word. Although suffering +from fever, the result of this night's alarm and +exposure, he collected a considerable army, and +marched for Brittany. His impatient eagerness +knew no bounds. Through the sultry, noonday +heat, over the arid plains and dense forests of +Brittany, he pursued the assassin of his Constable. +He rode the foremost of his host; often +silently and alone. One day, having undergone +great personal fatigue, he had closed his eyes, +still riding forward, when he was aroused by the +violent curveting of his steed, whose bridle had +been seized by a wild-looking man, singularly +clad.</p> + +<p>"Turn back, turn back, noble king," cried +he; "to proceed further is certain death, you +are betrayed!" Having uttered these words, +the stranger disappeared in the recesses of the +forest before any one could advance to arrest him.</p> + +<p>The army now traversed a sandy plain, which +reflected the intensity of the solar rays. The +king wore a black velvet jerkin, and a cap of +crimson velvet, ornamented with a chaplet of +pearls. This ill-selected costume rendered the +heat insufferable. While musing on the strange +occurrence in the forest, he was aroused by the +clashing of steel around him. The page, who +bore his lance, had yielded to the drowsy influences +of the oppressive noonday heat, and as he +slumbered his lance had fallen with a ringing +sound on the casque of the page before him. +The succession of these alarms quite damaged +Charles's intellect. He turned, in a paroxysm +of madness, crying, "Down with the traitors!" +and attacked his own body-guard. All made +way, as the mad king assailed them. Several +fell victims to his wildly-aimed thrusts, before +he sunk at length, exhausted by his efforts, a +fit of total insensibility followed. His brother +of Orleans and kinsman of Burgundy had him +conveyed by slow stages to Paris.</p> + +<p>Charles's recovery was very tedious. Many +remedies were tried—charms and incantations, +as well as medicines; but to the great joy of +the people, who had always loved him, his reason +was at length pronounced to be restored, and +his physicians recommended him to seek amusement +and diversion in festive entertainments.</p> + +<p>Another shock, and Charles VI. became +confirmed lunatic. This tragical termination of +an absurd frolic occurred as follows:</p> + +<p>On a gala occasion the monarch and five +knights of his household conceived the design of +disguising themselves as satyrs. Close-fitting +linen dresses, covered with some bituminous substance, +to which was attached fine flax resembling +hair, were stitched on their persons. +Their grotesque figures excited much merriment. +The dukes of Orleans and Bar, who +had been supping elsewhere, entered the hall +somewhat affected by their night's dissipation. +With inconceivable folly, one of these tipsy noblemen +applied a torch to the covering of one of +the satyrs. The miserable wretch, burning +frightfully and hopelessly, rushed through the +hall in horrible torments, shrieking in the agonies +of despair. The fire was rapidly communicated. +To those of the satyrs, whose hairy +garments were thus ignited, escape was hopeless. +To detach the flaming pitch was impossible; +they writhed and rolled about, but in +vain: their tortures only ended with their lives. +One alone beside the king escaped. Recollecting +that the buttery was near, he ran and +plunged himself in the large tub of water provided +for washing the plates and dishes. Even +so, he did not escape without serious injuries. +The king had been conversing in his disguise +with the young bride of the duke of Berri. She +had recognized him, and with admirable presence +of mind and devotion, she held him fast, +covering him with her robe lest a spark should +descend on him. To her care and energy he +owed his preservation from so horrible a fate; +but, alas! only to linger for years a miserable +maniac. The terrible spectacle of his companions +in harmless frolic perishing in this dreadful +manner before his eyes, completed the wreck +of his already broken intellect. His reason returned +but partially. Even these slight amendments +were at rare intervals. He became a +squalid and pitiable object; his person utterly +neglected, for his garments could only be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span> +changed by force. His heartless and faithless +wife deserted him—indeed, in his insane fits his +detestation of her was excessive—and neglected +their children. One human being only could +soothe and soften him, his sister-in-law, Valentina +Visconti.</p> + +<p>Charles had always manifested the truest +friendship for the neglected wife of his brother. +They were alike unhappy in their domestic relations; +for the gallantries of the beautiful +queen were scarcely less notorious than those +of Louis of Orleans; and if scandal spoke truly, +Louis himself was one of the queen's lovers. +The brilliant and beautiful Isabeau was distinguished +by the dazzlingly clear and fair complexion +of her German fatherland, and the large +lustrous eyes of the Italian. But Charles detested +her, and delighted in the society of Valentina. +He was never happy but when near +her. In the violent paroxysms of his malady, +she only could venture to approach him—she +alone had influence over the poor maniac. He +yielded to her wishes without opposition; and +in his occasional glimpses of reason, touchingly +thanked his "dear sister" for her watchful care +and forbearance.</p> + +<p>It must have been a dismal change, even from +the barbaric court of Milan; but Valentina was +not a stranger to the consolations which are +ever the reward of those who prove themselves +self-sacrificing in the performance of duty. She +was eminently happy in her children. Charles, +her eldest son, early evinced a delicate enthusiasm +of mind—the sensitive organization of +genius. He was afterward to become, <i>par excellence</i>, +the poet of France. In his childhood +he was distinguished for his amiable disposition +and handsome person. Possibly at the time +of which we now write, was laid the foundation +of that sincere affection for his cousin Isabella, +eldest daughter of the king, which many years +afterward resulted in their happy union. One +of the most touching poems of Charles of Orleans +has been charmingly rendered into English +by Mr. Carey. It is addressed to his deceased +wife, who died in child-bed at the early age of +twenty-two.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"To make my lady's obsequies,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My love a minster wrought,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And in the chantry, service there<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was sung by doleful thought.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The tapers were of burning sighs,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That light and odor gave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And grief, illumined by tears,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Irradiated her grave;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And round about in quaintest guise<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was carved, 'Within this tomb there lies<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The fairest thing to mortal eyes.'<br /></span> +</div><br /><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"Above her lieth spread a tomb,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of gold and sapphires blue;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The gold doth mark her blessedness,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sapphires mark her true;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For blessedness and truth in her<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Were livelily portray'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When gracious God with both his hands<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her wondrous beauty made;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She was, to speak without disguise,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The fairest thing to mortal eyes.<br /></span> +</div><br /><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"No more, no more; my heart doth faint,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When I the life recall<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of her who lived so free from taint,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So virtuous deemed by all;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who in herself was so complete,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I think that she was ta'en<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By God to deck his Paradise,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And with his saints to reign;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For well she doth become the skies,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whom, while on earth, each one did prize,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The fairest thing to mortal eyes!"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>The same delicate taste and sweet sensibility +which are here apparent, break forth in another +charming poem by Charles, composed while a +prisoner in England, and descriptive of the same +delightful season that surrounds us with light +and harmony, while we write, "le premier printemps:"</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"The Time hath laid his mantle by<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of wind, and rain, and icy chill,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And dons a rich embroidery<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of sunlight pour'd on lake and hill.<br /></span> +</div><br /><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"No beast or bird in earth or sky,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Whose voice doth not with gladness thrill;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For Time hath laid his mantle by<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of wind, and rain, and icy dull.<br /></span> +</div><br /><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"River and fountain, brook and rill,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bespangled o'er with livery gay<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of silver droplets, wind their way.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All in their new apparel vie,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For Time hath laid his mantle by."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>We have said little of Louis of Orleans, the +unfaithful husband of Valentina. This young +prince had many redeeming traits of character. +He was generous, liberal, and gracious; adored +by the French people; fondly loved, even by +his neglected wife. His tragical death, assassinated +in cold blood by his cousin, Jean-sans-peur +of Burgundy, excited in his behalf universal +pity. Let us review the causes which aroused +the vindictive hostility of the Duke of Burgundy, +only to be appeased by the death of his gay +and unsuspicious kinsman.</p> + +<p>Among the vain follies of Louis of Orleans, +his picture-gallery may be reckoned the most +offensive. Here were suspended the portraits +of his various mistresses; among others he +had the audacity to place there the likeness of +the Bavarian princess, wife of Jean-sans-peur. +The resentment of the injured husband may +readily be conceived. In addition to this very +natural cause of dislike, these dukes had been +rivals for that political power which the imbecility +of Charles the Sixth placed within their +grasp.</p> + +<p>The unamiable elements in the character of +the Duke of Burgundy had been called into +active exercise in very early life. While Duke +de Nevers, he was defeated at Nicopolis, and +made prisoner by Bajazet, surnamed "Ilderim," +or the Thunderer. What rendered this defeat +the more mortifying was, the boastful expectation +of success proclaimed by the Christian +army. "If the sky should fall, we could uphold +it on our lances," they exclaimed, but a +few hours before their host was scattered, and +its leaders prisoners to the Moslem. Jean-sans-peur<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span> +was detained in captivity until an enormous +ransom was paid for his deliverance. Giovanni-Galeazzo +was suspected of connivance with +Bajazet, both in bringing the Christians to fight +at a disadvantage, and in putting the Turks on +the way of obtaining the heaviest ransoms. The +splenetic irritation of this disaster seems to have +clung long after to the Duke of Burgundy. His +character was quite the reverse of that of his +confiding kinsman of Orleans. He was subtle, +ambitious, designing, crafty—dishonorably resorting +to guile, where he dared not venture on +overt acts of hostility. For the various reasons +we have mentioned, he bore a secret but intense +hatred to his cousin Louis.</p> + +<p>In the early winter of 1407, the Duke of +Orleans, finding his health impaired, bade a +temporary adieu to the capital, and secluded +himself in his favorite chateau of Beauté. He +seems to have been previously awakened to serious +reflections. He had passed much of his +time at the convent of the Celestines, who, +among their most precious relics, still reckon +the illuminated manuscript of the Holy Scriptures +presented to them by Louis of Orleans, +and bearing his autograph. To this order of +monks he peculiarly attached himself, spending +most of the time his approaching death accorded +to him. A spectre, in the solitude of the +cloisters, appeared to him, and bade him prepare +to stand in the presence of his Maker. +His friends in the convent, to whom he narrated +the occurrence, contributed by their exhortations +to deepen the serious convictions +pressing on his mind. There now seemed a +reasonable expectation that Louis of Orleans +would return from his voluntary solitude at his +chateau on the Marne, a wiser and a better +man, cured, by timely reflection, of the only +blemish which tarnished the lustre of his many +virtues.</p> + +<p>The aged Duke of Berri had long lamented +the ill-feeling and hostility which had separated +his nephews of Orleans and Burgundy. It was +his earnest desire to see these discords, so injurious +to their true interests and the well-being +of the kingdom, ended by a cordial reconciliation. +He addressed himself to Jean-sans-peur, +and met with unhoped-for success. The Duke +of Burgundy professed his willingness to be reconciled, +and acceded with alacrity to his uncle's +proposition of a visit to the invalided Louis. +The latter, ever trusting and warm-hearted, +cordially embraced his former enemy. They +received the sacrament together, in token of +peace and good-will: the Duke of Burgundy, +accepting the proffered hospitality of his kinsman, +promised to partake of a banquet to be +given on this happy occasion by Louis of Orleans, +a few days later.</p> + +<p>During the interval the young duke returned +to Paris. His sister-in-law, Queen Isabeau, was +then residing at the Hotel Barbette—a noble +palace in a retired neighborhood, with fine gardens, +almost completely secluded. Louis of Orleans, +almost unattended, visited the queen, to +condole with her on the loss of her infant, who +had survived its birth but a few days. While +they were supping together, Sas de Courteheuze, +valet-de-chambre to Charles VI., arrived +with a message to the duke: "My lord, the +king sends for you, and you must instantly hasten +to him, for he has business of great importance +to you and to him, which he must communicate +to you this night." Louis of Orleans, never +doubting that this message came from his brother, +hastened to obey the summons. His inconsiderable +escort rendered him an easy prey to +the ruffians who lay in wait for him. He was +cruelly murdered; his skull cleft open, the +brains scattered on the pavement; his hand so +violently severed from the body, that it was +thrown to a considerable distance; the other +arm shattered in two places; and the body +frightfully mangled. About eighteen were concerned +in the murder: Raoul d'Oquetonville and +Scas de Courteheuze acted as leaders. They +had long waited for an opportunity, and lodged +at an hotel "having for sign the image of Our +Lady," near the Porte Barbette, where, it was +afterward discovered, they had waited for several +days for their victim. Thus perished, in +the prime of life, the gay and handsome Louis +of Orleans. The mutilated remains were collected, +and removed to the Church of the Guillemins, +the nearest place where they might be +deposited. This confraternity were an order +of hermits, who had succeeded to the church +convent of the Blanc Manteax, instituted by St. +Louis.</p> + +<p>The church of the Guillemins was soon crowded +by the friends and relatives of the murdered +prince. All concurred in execrating the +author or authors of this horrid deed. Suspicion +at first fell upon Sir Aubert de Canny, who +had good reason for hating the deceased duke. +Louis of Orleans, some years previously, had +carried off his wife, Marietta D'Enghein, and +kept her openly until she had borne him a son, +afterward the celebrated Dunois. Immediate +orders were issued by the king for the arrest +of the Knight of Canny. Great sympathy was +felt for the widowed Valentina, and her young +and fatherless children. No one expressed himself +more strongly than the Duke of Burgundy. +He sent a kind message to Valentina, begging +her to look on him as a friend and protector. +While contemplating the body of his victim, he +said, "Never has there been committed in the +realm of France a fouler murder." His show +of regret did not end here: with the other immediate +relatives of the deceased prince, he +bore the pall at the funeral procession. When +the body was removed to the church of the Celestines, +there to be interred in a beautiful +chapel Louis of Orleans had himself founded +and built, Burgundy was observed by the spectators +to shed tears. But he was destined soon +to assume quite another character, by an almost +involuntary act. The provost of Paris, having +traced the flight of the assassins, had ascertained +beyond doubt that they had taken refuge at<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span> +the hotel of this very Duke of Burgundy. He +presented himself at the council, and undertook +to produce the criminals, if permitted to search +the residences of the princes. Seized with a +sudden panic, the Duke of Burgundy, to the +astonishment of all present, became his own accuser: +Pale and trembling, he avowed his guilt: +"It was I!" he faltered; "the devil tempted +me!" The other members of the council +shrunk back in undisguised horror. Jean-sans-peur, +having made this astounding confession, +left the council-chamber, and started, without a +moment's delay, for the Flemish frontier. He +was hotly pursued by the friends of the murdered +Louis; but his measures had been taken +with too much prompt resolution to permit of +a successful issue to his Orleanist pursuers. +Once among his subjects of the Low Countries, +he might dare the utmost malice of his opponents.</p> + +<p>In the mean time, the will of the deceased +duke was made public. His character, like +Cæsar's, rose greatly in the estimation of the +citizens, when the provisions of his last testament +were made known. He desired that he should +be buried without pomp in the church of the +Celestines, arrayed in the garb of that order. +He was not unmindful of the interests of literature +and science; nor did he forget to make the poor +and suffering the recipients of his bounty. Lastly, +he confided his children to the guardianship +of the Duke of Burgundy: thus evincing a spirit +unmindful of injuries, generous, and confiding. +This document also proved, that even in his +wild career, Louis of Orleans was at times +visited by better and holier aspirations.</p> + +<p>Valentina mourned over her husband long and +deeply; she did not long survive him; she sunk +under her bereavement, and followed him to the +grave ere her year of widowhood expired. At +first the intelligence of his barbarous murder +excited in her breast unwonted indignation. +She exerted herself actively to have his death +avenged. A few days after the murder, she +entered Paris in "a litter covered with white +cloth, and drawn by four white horses." All +her retinue wore deep mourning. She had assumed +for her device the despairing motto:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Rien ne m'est plus,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Plus ne m'est rien."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Proceeding to the Hôtel St. Pôl, accompanied +by her children and the Princess Isabella, the +affianced bride of Charles of Orleans, she threw +herself at the king's knees, and, in a passion of +tears, prayed for justice on the murderer of his +brother, her lamented lord. Charles was deeply +moved: he also wept aloud. He would gladly +have granted her that justice which she demanded, +had it been in his power to do so; but +Burgundy was too powerful. The feeble monarch +dared not offend his overgrown vassal. A process +at law was all the remedy the king could +offer.</p> + +<p>Law was then, as now, a tedious and uncertain +remedy, and a rich and powerful traverser +could weary out his prosecutor with delays +and quibbles equal to our own. Jean-sans-peur +returned in defiance to Paris to conduct +the proceedings in his own defense. He +had erected a strong tower of solid masonry in +his hôtel; here he was secure in the midst of his +formidable guards and soldiery. For his defense, +he procured the services of Jean Petit, a distinguished +member of the University of Paris, and +a popular orator. The oration of Petit (which +has rendered him infamous), was rather a philippic +against Louis of Orleans, than a defense +of Jean-sans-peur. He labors to prove that the +prince deserved to die, having conspired against +the king and kingdom. One of the charges—that +of having, by incantations, endeavored to +destroy the monarch—gives us a singular idea +of the credulity of the times, when we reflect +that these absurd allegations were seriously +made and believed by a learned doctor, himself +a distinguished member of the most learned body +in France, the University of Paris. The Duke +of Orleans conspired "to cause the king, our +lord, to die of a disorder, so languishing and so +slow, that no one should divine the cause of it; +he, by dint of money, bribed four persons, an +apostate monk, a knight, an esquire, and a +varlet, to whom he gave his own sword, his +dagger, and a ring, for them to consecrate to, +or more properly speaking, to make use of, in +the name of the devil," &c. "The monk made +several incantations.... And one grand invocation +on a Sunday, very early, and before sunrise +on a mountain near to the tower of Mont-joy.... +The monk performed many superstitious acts +near a bush, with invocations to the devil; and +while so doing he stripped himself naked to his +shirt and kneeled down: he then struck the +points of the sword and dagger into the ground, +and placed the ring near them. Having uttered +many invocations to the devils, two of them appeared +to him in the shape of two men, clothed +in brownish-green, one of whom was called +Hermias, and the other Estramain. He paid +them such honors and reverence as were due to +God our Saviour—after which he retired behind +the bush. The devil who had come for the +ring took it and vanished, but he who was come +for the sword and dagger remained—but afterward, +having seized them, he also vanished. +The monk, shortly after, came to where the +devils had been, and found the sword and dagger +lying flat on the ground, the sword having the +point broken—but he saw the point among some +powder where the devil had laid it. Having +waited half-an-hour, the other devil returned and +gave him the ring; which to the sight was of the +color of red, nearly scarlet, and said to him: +'Thou wilt put it into the mouth of a dead man +in the manner thou knowest,' and then he vanished."</p> + +<p>To this oration the advocate of the Duchess +of Orleans replied at great length. Valentina's +answer to the accusation we have quoted, was +concise and simple. "The late duke, Louis of +Orleans, was a prince of too great piety and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span> +virtue to tamper with sorceries and witchcraft." +The legal proceedings against Jean-sans-peur +seemed likely to last for an interminable period. +Even should they be decided in favor of the +family of Orleans, the feeble sovereign dared not +carry the sentence of the law into execution +against so powerful an offender as the Duke of +Burgundy. Valentina knew this; she knew also +that she could not find elsewhere one who could +enforce her claims for justice—justice on the +murderer of her husband—the slayer of the +father of her defenseless children. Milan, the +home of her girlhood, was a slaughter-house, +reeking with the blood of her kindred. Five +years previously her father, Giovanni-Galeazzo +Visconti, had died of the plague which then +desolated Italy. To avoid this terrible disorder +he shut himself up in the town of Marignano, and +amused himself during his seclusion by the study +of judicial astrology, in which science he was +an adept. A comet appeared in the sky. The +haughty Visconti doubted not that this phenomenon +was an announcement to him of his +approaching death. "I thank God," he cried, +"that this intimation of my dissolution will be +evident to all men: my glorious life will be not +ingloriously terminated." The event justified +the omen.</p> + +<p>By his second marriage with Katharina Visconti, +daughter of his uncle Bernabos, Giovanni +Galeazzo left two sons, still very young, Giovanni-Maria +and Philippo-Maria, among whom his dominions +were divided, their mother acting as +guardian and regent.</p> + +<p>All the ferocious characteristics of the Visconti +seemed to be centred in the stepmother of Valentina. +The Duchess of Milan delighted in +executions; she beheaded, on the slightest suspicions, +the highest nobles of Lombardy. At +length she provoked reprisals, and died the +victim of poison. Giovanni-Maria, nurtured in +blood, was the worthy son of such a mother. +His thirst for blood was unquenchable; his favorite +pursuit was to witness the torments of +criminals delivered over to bloodhounds, trained +for the purpose, and fed only on human flesh. +His huntsman and favorite, Squarcia Giramo, on +one occasion, for the amusement of his master, +threw to them a young boy only twelve years +of age. The innocent child clung to the knees +of the duke, and entreated that he might be +preserved from so terrible a fate. The bloodhounds +hung back. Squarcia Giramo seizing +the child, with his hunting-knife cut his throat, +and then flung him to the dogs. More merciful +than these human monsters, they refused to touch +the innocent victim.</p> + +<p>Facino Cane, one of the ablest generals of the +late duke, compelled the young princes to admit +him to their council, and submit to his management +of their affairs; as he was childless +himself, he permitted them to live, stripped of +power, and in great penury. To the sorrow +and dismay of the Milanese, they saw this salutary +check on the ferocious Visconti about to be +removed by the death of Facino Cane. Determined +to prevent the return to power of the young +tyrant, they attacked and massacred Giovanni-Maria +in the streets of Milan. While this +tragedy was enacting, Facino Cane breathed his +last.</p> + +<p>Philippo-Maria lost not a moment in causing +himself to be proclaimed duke. To secure the +fidelity of the soldiery, he married, without delay, +the widow of their loved commander. Beatrice +di Tenda, wife of Facino Cane, was an old +woman, while her young bridegroom was scarcely +twenty years of age: so ill-assorted a union +could scarcely be a happy one. Philippo-Maria, +the moment his power was firmly secured, resolved +to free himself from a wife whose many +virtues could not compensate for her want of +youth and beauty. The means to which he resorted +were atrocious: he accused the poor old +duchess of having violated her marriage vow, +and compelled, by fear of the torture, a young +courtier, Michel Orombelli, to become her accuser. +The duke, therefore, doomed them both +to be beheaded. Before the fatal blow of the +executioner made her his victim, Beatrice di +Tenda eloquently defended herself from the +calumnies of her husband and the base and +trembling Orombelli. "I do not repine," she +said, "for I am justly punished for having violated, +by my second marriage, the respect due +to the memory of my deceased husband; I submit +to the chastisement of heaven; I only pray +that my innocence may be made evident to all; +and that my name may be transmitted to posterity +pure and spotless."</p> + +<p>Such were the sons of Giovanni-Galeazzo +Visconti, the half-brothers of the gentle Valentina +of Orleans. When she sank broken-hearted +into an early grave—her husband unavenged, +her children unprotected—she felt how hopeless +it would be to look for succor or sympathy to +her father's house; yet her last moments were +passed in peace. Her maternal solicitude for +her defenseless orphans was soothed by the conviction +that they would be guarded and protected +by one true and faithful friend. Their magnanimous +and high-minded mother had attached +to them, by ties of affection and gratitude more +strong, more enduring than those of blood, one +well fitted by his chivalrous nature and heroic +bravery to defend and shelter the children of his +protectress. Dunois—"the young and brave +Dunois"—the bastard of Orleans, as he is generally +styled, was the illegitimate son of her +husband. Valentina, far from slighting the neglected +boy, brought him home to her, nurtured +and educated him with her children, cherishing +him as if he had indeed, been the son of her +bosom. If the chronicles of the time are to be +believed, she loved him more fondly than her +own offspring. "My noble and gallant boy," +she would say to him, "I have been robbed of +thee; it is thou that art destined to be thy +father's avenger; wilt thou not, for my sake, +who have loved thee so well, protect and cherish +these helpless little ones?"</p> + +<p>Long years after the death of Valentina the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span> +vengeance of heaven did overtake Jean-sans-peur +of Burgundy: he fell the victim of treachery +such as he had inflicted on Louis of Orleans; +but the cruel retaliation was not accomplished +through the instrumentality or connivance of the +Orleanists: Dunois was destined to play a far +nobler part. The able seconder of Joan of Arc—the +brave defender of Orleans against the +besieging English host—he may rank next to +his illustrious countrywoman, "La Pucelle," as +the deliverer of his country from foreign foes. +His bravery in war was not greater than his +disinterested devotion to his half-brothers. Well +and nobly did he repay to Valentina, by his unceasing +devotion to her children, her tender care +of his early years. Charles of Orleans, taken +prisoner by the English at the fatal battle of +Agincourt, was detained for the greater part of +his life in captivity: his infant children were +unable to maintain their rights. Dunois reconquered +for them their hereditary rights, the extensive +appanages of the house of Orleans. They +owed every thing to his sincere and watchful +affection.</p> + +<p>Valentina's short life was one of suffering and +trial; but she seems to have issued from the +furnace of affliction "purified seven times." In +the midst of a licentious court and age, she +shines forth a "pale pure star." Her spotless +fame has never been assailed. Piety, purity, +and goodness, were her distinguishing characteristics. +She was ever a self-sacrificing friend, +a tender mother, a loving and faithful wife. Her +gentle endurance of her domestic trials recalls to +mind the character of one who may almost be +styled her contemporary, the "patient Griselda," +so immortalized by Chaucer and Boccacio. Valentina +adds another example to the many which +history presents for our contemplation, to show +that suffering virtue, sooner or later, meets with +its recompense, even in this life. The broken-hearted +Duchess of Orleans became the ancestress +of two lines of French sovereigns, and +through her the kings of France founded their +claims to the Duchy of Milan. Her grandson, +Louis the Twelfth, the "father of his people," +was the son of the poet Duke of Orleans. On +the extinction of male heirs to this elder branch, +the descendant of her younger son, the Duke of +Angoulême, ascended the throne as Francis the +First. Her great-grand-daughter was the mother +of Alphonso, Duke of Ferrara, the "magnanimo +Alfonso" of the poet Tasso. His younger sister, +Leonora, will ever be remembered as the beloved +one of the great epic poet of Italy—the ill-starred +Torquato Tasso.</p> + +<p>The mortal remains of Valentina repose at +Blois; her heart is buried with her husband, in +the church of the Celestines at Paris. Over the +tomb was placed the following inscription:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Cy gist Loys Duc D'Orleans.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lequel sur tons duez terriens,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fut le plus noble en son vivant<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mais ung qui voult aller devant,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Par envye le feist mourir.'<br /></span> +<span class="i12">M.N.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>THE SNOWY MOUNTAINS IN NEW ZEALAND.</h2> + + +<p>The "Wellington Independent" gives the following +account of a recent expedition made +by the Lieutenant-Governor to the Middle Island: +After leaving the Wairau, having traversed +the Kaparatehau district, his Excellency +and his attendants reached the snowy mountains +to the southward, about four short days' journey +from the Wairau, and encamped at the foot of +the Tapuenuko mountain, which they ascended. +Previously to starting into the pass which is +supposed to exist between the Wairau and Port +Cooper plains, his Excellency ascended the great +snowy mountain which forms the principal peak +of the Kaikoras, and which attains an elevation +of at least 9000 feet, the upper part being +heavily covered with snow to a great depth. +He succeeded in reaching the top of the mountain, +but so late as to be unable to push on to +the southern edge of the summit, when an extensive +view southwards would have been obtained. +In returning, a steep face of the hill +(little less than perpendicular), down which +hung a bed of frozen snow, had to be crossed for +a considerable distance. Mr. Eyre, who had +led the party up the dangerous ascent, was in +advance with one native, the others being 200 +feet before and behind him, on the same perpendicular +of the snow. He heard a cry, and looking +round, saw Wiremu Hoeta falling down the +precipice, pitching from ledge to ledge, and +rolling over and over in the intervals, till he fell +dead, and no doubt smashed to pieces at a depth +below of about 1500 feet, where his body could +be seen in a sort of ravine, but where it was +impossible to get at it. His Excellency narrowly +escaped from similar destruction, having +lost both feet from under him, and only saving +himself by the use of an iron-shod pole which +he carried. Another of the natives had a still +narrower escape, having actually fallen about +fifteen yards, when he succeeded in clutching a +rock and saving himself. The gloom which this +unfortunate event caused, and the uncertainty of +crossing the rivers while the snows are melting, +induced his Excellency to return.</p> + + + +<p><a name="Page_65a" id="Page_65a"></a></p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>GENIUS.</h2> + + +<p>Self-communion and solitude are its daily +bread; for what is genius but a great and +strongly-marked individuality—but an original +creative being, standing forth alone amidst the +undistinguishable throng of our everyday world? +Genius is a lonely power; it is not communicative; +it is not the gift of a crowd; it is not a +reflection cast from without upon the soul. It +is essentially an inward light, diffusing its clear +and glorious radiance over the external world. +It is a broad flood, pouring freely forth its deep +waters; but with its source forever hidden from +human ken. It is the creator, not the creature +it calls forth glorious and immortal shapes; but +it is called into being by none—save <span class="smcap">God</span>.—<i>Women +in France during the Eighteenth Century.</i><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3>[From Household Words.]</h3> + +<h2>FRANCIS JEFFREY.</h2> + + +<p>Jeffrey was a year younger than Scott, +whom he outlived eighteen years, and with +whose career his own had some points of resemblance. +They came of the same middle-class +stock, and had played together as lads in +the High School "yard" before they met as advocates +in the Court of Session. The fathers +of both were connected with that court; and +from childhood, both were devoted to the law. +But Scott's boyish infirmity imprisoned him in +Edinburgh, while Jeffrey was let loose to Glasgow +University, and afterward passed up to +Queen's College, Oxford. The boys, thus separated, +had no remembrance of having previously +met, when they saw each other at the Speculative +Society in 1791.</p> + +<p>The Oxford of that day suited Jeffrey ill. It +suited few people well who cared for any thing +but cards and claret. Southey, who came just +after him, tells us that the Greek he took there +he left there, nor ever passed such unprofitable +months; and Lord Malmesbury, who had been +there but a little time before him, wonders how +it was that so many men should make their way +in the world creditably, after leaving a place +that taught nothing but idleness and drunkenness. +But Jeffrey was not long exposed to its +temptations. He left after the brief residence +of a single term; and what in after life he +remembered most vividly in connection with it, +seems to have been the twelve days' hard traveling +between Edinburgh and London, which +preceded his entrance at Queen's. Some seventy +years before, another Scotch lad, on his way to +become yet more famous in literature and law, +had taken nearly as many weeks to perform the +same journey; but, between the schooldays of +Mansfield and of Jeffrey, the world had not been +resting.</p> + +<p>It was enacting its greatest modern incident, +the first French Revolution, when the young +Scotch student returned to Edinburgh and +changed his College gown for that of the advocate. +Scott had the start of him in the Court +of Session by two years, and had become rather +active and distinguished in the Speculative +Society before Jeffrey joined it. When the +latter, then a lad of nineteen, was introduced +(one evening in 1791), he observed a heavy-looking +young man officiating as secretary, who +sat solemnly at the bottom of the table in a +huge woolen night-cap, and who, before the +business of the night began, rose from his chair, +and, with imperturbable gravity seated on as +much of his face as was discernible from the +wrappings of the "portentous machine" that +enveloped it, apologized for having left home +with a bad toothache. This was his quondam +schoolfellow Scott. Perhaps Jeffrey was pleased +with the mingled enthusiasm for the speculative, +and regard for the practical, implied in the +woolen nightcap; or perhaps he was interested +by the Essay on Ballads which the hero of the +nightcap read in the course of the evening: but +before he left the meeting he sought an introduction +to Mr. Walter Scott, and they were +very intimate for many years afterward.</p> + +<p>The Speculative Society dealt with the usual +subjects of elocution and debate prevalent in +similar places then and since; such as, whether +there ought to be an Established Religion, and +whether the Execution of Charles I. was justifiable, +and if Ossian's poems were authentic? It +was not a fraternity of speculators by any means +of an alarming or dangerous sort. John Allen +and his friends, at this very time, were spouting +forth active sympathy for French Republicanism +at Fortune's Tavern under immediate and +watchful superintendence of the Police; James +Mackintosh was parading the streets with Horne +Tooke's colors in his hat; James Montgomery +was expiating in York jail his exulting ballad +on the fall of the Bastile; and Southey and Coleridge, +in despair of old England, had completed +the arrangements of their youthful colony for a +community of property, and proscription of every +thing selfish, on the banks of the Susquehanna; +but the speculative orators rarely probed the +sores of the body politic deeper than an inquiry +into the practical advantages of belief in a +future state? and whether it was for the interest +of Britain to maintain the balance of Europe? +or if knowledge could be too much disseminated +among the lower ranks of the people?</p> + +<p>In short, nothing of the extravagance of the +time, on either side, is associable with the outset +of Jeffrey's career. As little does he seem +to have been influenced, on the one hand, by +the democratic foray of some two hundred convention +delegates into Edinburgh in 1792, as, +on the other, by the prominence of his father's +name to a protest of frantic high-tory defiance; +and he was justified, not many years since, in +referring with pride to the fact that, at the +opening of his public life, his view of the character +of the first French revolution, and of its +probable influence on other countries, had been +such as to require little modification during +the whole of his subsequent career. The precision +and accuracy of his judgment had begun +to show itself thus early. At the crude +young Jacobins, so soon to ripen into Quarterly +Reviewers, who were just now coquetting +with Mary Woolstonecraft, or making love to +the ghost of Madame Roland, or branding as +worthy of the bowstring the tyrannical enormities +of Mr. Pitt, he could afford to laugh +from the first. From the very first he had the +strongest liberal tendencies, but restrained them +so wisely that he could cultivate them well.</p> + +<p>He joined the band of youths who then sat at +the feet of Dugald Stewart, and whose first incentive +to distinction in the more difficult paths +of knowledge, as well as their almost universal +adoption of the liberal school of politics, are in +some degree attributable to the teaching of that +distinguished man. Among them were Brougham +and Homer, who had played together from +boyhood in Edinburgh streets, had joined the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span> +Speculative on the same evening six years after +Jeffrey (who in Brougham soon found a sharp +opponent on colonial and other matters), and were +still fast friends. Jeffrey's father, raised to a +deputy clerk of session, now lived on a third or +fourth flat in Buchanan's Court in the Lawn +Market, where the worthy old gentleman kept +two women servants and a man at livery; but +where the furniture does not seem to have been +of the soundest. This fact his son used to illustrate +by an anecdote of the old gentleman eagerly +setting to at a favorite dinner one day, with +the two corners of the table cloth tied round his +neck to protect his immense professional frills, +when the leg of his chair gave way, and he +tumbled back on the floor with all the dishes, +sauces, and viands a-top of him. Father and +son lived here together, till the latter took for +his first wife the daughter of the Professor of +Hebrew in the University of St. Andrew, and +moved to an upper story in another part of town. +He had been called to the bar in 1794, and was +married eight years afterward. He had not +meanwhile obtained much practice, and the elevation +implied in removal to an upper flat is not +of the kind that a young Benedict covets. But +distinction of another kind was at length at hand.</p> + +<p>One day early in 1802, "in the eighth or +ninth story or flat in Buccleugh Place, the elevated +residence of the then Mr. Jeffrey," Mr. +Jeffrey had received a visit from Horner and Sydney +Smith, when Sydney, at this time a young English +curate temporarily resident in Edinburgh, +preaching, teaching, and joking with a flow of +wit, humanity, and sense that fascinated every +body, started the notion of the Edinburgh Review. +The two Scotchmen at once voted the +Englishman its editor, and the notion was communicated +to John Archibald Murray (Lord +Advocate after Jeffrey, long years afterward), +John Allen (then lecturing on medical subjects +at the University, but who went abroad before +he could render any essential service), and Alexander +Hamilton (afterward Sanscrit professor at +Haileybury). This was the first council; but +it was extended, after a few days, till the two +Thomsons (John and Thomas, the physician and +the advocate), Thomas Brown (who succeeded to +Dugald Stewart's chair), and Henry Brougham, +were admitted to the deliberations. Horner's +quondam playfellow was an ally too potent to +be obtained without trouble; and, even thus +early, had not a few characteristics in common +with the Roman statesman and orator whom it +was his greatest ambition in after life to resemble, +and of whom Shakspeare has told us that +he never followed any thing that other men +began.</p> + +<p>"You remember how cheerfully Brougham +approved of our plan at first," wrote Jeffrey to +Horner, in April, in the thick of anxious preparations +for the start, "and agreed to give us +an article or two without hesitation. Three or +four days ago I proposed two or three books +that I thought would suit him; when he answered +with perfect good humor, that he had +changed his view of our plan a little, and rather +thought now that he should decline to have any +connection with it." This little coquetry was +nevertheless overcome; and before the next six +months were over, Brougham had become an +efficient and zealous member of the band.</p> + +<p>It is curious to see how the project hung fire +at first. Jeffrey had nearly finished four articles, +Horner had partly written four, and more +than half the number was printed; and yet +well-nigh the other half had still to be written. +The memorable fasciculus at last appeared in +November, after a somewhat tedious gestation +of nearly ten months; having been subject to +what Jeffrey calls so "miserable a state of +backwardness" and so many "symptoms of +despondency," that Constable had to delay the +publication some weeks beyond the day first +fixed. Yet as early as April had Sydney Smith +completed more than half of what he contributed, +while nobody else had put pen to paper; and +shortly after the number appeared, he was +probably not sorry to be summoned, with his +easy pen and his cheerful wit, to London, and +to abandon the cares of editorship to Jeffrey.</p> + +<p>No other choice could have been made. The +first number settled the point. It is easy to +discover that Jeffrey's estimation in Edinburgh +had not, up to this time, been in any just proportion +to his powers; and that, even with those +who knew him best, his playful and sportive +fancy sparkled too much to the surface of his +talk to let them see the grave, deep currents +that ran underneath. Every one now read with +surprise the articles attributed to him. Sydney +had yielded him the place of honor, and he had +vindicated his right to it. He had thrown out +a new and forcible style of criticism, with a +fearless, unmisgiving, and unhesitating courage. +Objectors might doubt or cavil at the opinions +expressed; but the various and comprehensive +knowledge, the subtle, argumentative genius +the brilliant and definite expression, there was +no disputing or denying. A fresh, and startling +power was about to make itself felt in literature.</p> + +<p>"Jeffrey," said his most generous fellow +laborer, a few days after the Review appeared, +"is the person who will derive most honor from +this publication, as his articles in this number +are generally known, and are incomparably the +best; I have received the greater pleasure from +this circumstance, because the genius of that +little man has remained almost unknown to all +but his most intimate acquaintances. His manner +is not at first pleasing; what is worse, it is +of that cast which almost irresistibly impresses +upon strangers the idea of levity and superficial +talents. Yet there is not any man, whose real +character is so much the reverse; he has, indeed, +a very sportive and playful fancy, but it is accompanied +with an extensive and varied information, +with a readiness of apprehension almost +intuitive, with judicious and calm discernment, +with a profound and penetrating understanding." +This confident passage from a private journal of +the 20th November, 1802 may stand as a remarkable<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span> +monument of the prescience of Francis Horner.</p> + +<p>Yet it was also the opinion of this candid and +sagacious man that he and his fellows had not +gained much character by that first number of +the Review. As a set-off to the talents exhibited, +he spoke of the severity—of what, in some +of the papers, might be called the scurrility—as +having given general dissatisfaction; and he +predicted that they would have to soften their +tone, and be more indulgent to folly and bad +taste. Perhaps it is hardly thus that the objection +should have been expressed. It is now, +after the lapse of nearly half a century, admitted +on all hands that the tone adopted by these +young Edinburgh reviewers was in some respects +extremely indiscreet; and that it was +not simply folly and bad taste, but originality +and genius, that had the right to more indulgence +at their hands. When Lord Jeffrey lately +collected Mr. Jeffrey's critical articles, he silently +dropped those very specimens of his power +which by their boldness of view, severity of remark, +and vivacity of expression, would still as +of old have attracted the greatest notice; and +preferred to connect with his name, in the regard +of such as might hereafter take interest in +his writings, only those papers which, by enforcing +what appeared to him just principles and +useful opinions, he hoped might have a tendency +to make men happier and better. Somebody +said by way of compliment of the early days of +the Scotch Review, that it made reviewing more +respectable than authorship; and the remark, +though essentially the reverse of a compliment, +exhibits with tolerable accuracy the general design +of the work at its outset. Its ardent young +reviewers took a somewhat too ambitious stand +above the literature they criticised. "To all of +us," Horner ingenuously confessed, "it is only +matter of temporary amusement and subordinate +occupation."</p> + +<p>Something of the same notion was in Scott's +thoughts when, smarting from a severe but not +unjust or ungenerous review of Marmion, he +said that Jeffrey loved to see imagination best +when it is bitted and managed, and ridden upon +the <i>grand pas</i>. He did not make sufficient allowance +for starts and sallies and bounds, when +Pegasus was beautiful to behold, though sometimes +perilous to his rider. He would have had +control of horse as well as rider, Scott complained, +and made himself master of the ménage +to both. But on the other hand this was often +very possible; and nothing could then be conceived +more charming than the earnest, playful, +delightful way in which his comments adorned +and enriched the poets he admired. Hogarth +is not happier in Charles Lamb's company, than +is the homely vigor and genius of Crabbe under +Jeffrey's friendly leading; he returned fancy for +fancy to Moore's exuberance, and sparkled with +a wit as keen; he "tamed his wild heart" to +the loving thoughtfulness of Rogers, his scholarly +enthusiasm, his pure and vivid pictures; with +the fiery energy and passionate exuberance of +Byron, his bright, courageous spirit broke into +earnest sympathy; for the clear and stirring +strains of Campbell he had an ever lively and +liberal response; and Scott, in the midst of +many temptations to the exercise of severity +never ceased to awaken the romance and generosity +of his nature.</p> + +<p>His own idea of the more grave critical claims +put forth by him in his early days, found expression +in later life. He had constantly endeavored, +he said, to combine ethical precepts with literary +criticism. He had earnestly sought to impress +his readers with a sense, both of the close connection +between sound intellectual attainments, +and the higher elements of duty and enjoyment; +and of the just and ultimate subordination of the +former to the latter. Nor without good reason did +he take this praise to himself. The taste which +Dugald Stewart had implanted in him, governed +him more than any other at the outset of his +career; and may often have contributed not a +little, though quite unconsciously, to lift the aspiring +young metaphysician somewhat too ambitiously +above the level of the luckless author +summoned to his judgment seat. Before the +third year of the review had opened, he had +broken a spear in the lists of metaphysical philosophy +even with his old tutor, and with Jeremy +Bentham, both in the maturity of their fame; he +had assailed, with equal gallantry, the opposite +errors of Priestley and Reid; and, not many years +later, he invited his friend Alison to a friendly +contest, from which the fancies of that amiable +man came out dulled by a superior brightness, +by more lively, varied, and animated conceptions +of beauty, and by a style which recommended a +more than Scotch soberness of doctrine with a +more than French vivacity of expression.</p> + +<p>For it is to be said of Jeffrey, that when he +opposed himself to enthusiasm, he did so in the +spirit of an enthusiast; and that this had a tendency +to correct such critical mistakes as he +may occasionally have committed. And as of +him, so of his Review. In professing to go +deeply into the <i>principles</i> on which its judgments +were to be rested, as well as to take large and +original views of all the important question to +which those works might relate—it substantially +succeeded, as Jeffrey presumed to think it +had done, in familiarizing the public mind with +higher speculations, and sounder and larger +views of the great objects of human pursuit; as +well as in permanently raising the standard, and +increasing the influence, of all such occasional +writings far beyond the limits of Great Britain.</p> + +<p>Nor let it be forgotten that the system on +which Jeffrey established relations between his +writers and publishers has been of the highest +value as a precedent in such matters, and has +protected the independence and dignity of a +later race of reviewers. He would never receive +an unpaid-for contribution. He declined +to make it the interest of the proprietors to prefer +a certain class of contributors. The payment +was ten guineas a sheet at first, and rose +gradually to double that sum, with increase<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span> +on special occasions; and even when rank or +other circumstances made remuneration a matter +of perfect indifference, Jeffrey insisted that +it should nevertheless be received. The Czar +Peter, when working in the trenches, he was +wont to say, received pay as a common soldier. +Another principle which he rigidly carried out, +was that of a thorough independence of publishing +interests. The Edinburgh Review was +never made in any manner tributary to particular +bookselling schemes. It assailed or supported +with equal vehemence or heartiness the +productions of Albemarle-street and Paternoster-row. +"I never asked such a thing of him but +once," said the late Mr. Constable, describing +an attempt to obtain a favorable notice from his +obdurate editor, "and I assure you the result +was no encouragement to repeat such petitions." +The book was Scott's edition of Swift; and the +result one of the bitterest attacks on the popularity +of Swift, in one of Jeffrey's most masterly +criticisms.</p> + +<p>He was the better able thus to carry his +point, because against more potent influences +he had already taken a decisive stand. It was +not till six years after the Review was started +that Scott remonstrated with Jeffrey on the virulence +of its party politics. But much earlier +even than this, the principal proprietors had +made the same complaint; had pushed their +objections to the contemplation of Jeffrey's surrender +of the editorship; and had opened negotiations +with writers known to be bitterly opposed +to him. To his honor, Southey declined +these overtures, and advised a compromise of +the dispute. Some of the leading Whigs themselves +were discontented, and Horner had appealed +to him from the library of Holland House. +Nevertheless, Jeffrey stood firm. He carried +the day against Paternoster-row, and unassailably +established the all-important principle of a +perfect independence of his publishers' control. +He stood as resolute against his friend Scott; +protesting that on one leg, and the weakest, the +Review could not and should not stand, for that +its <i>right leg</i> he knew to be politics. To Horner +he replied, by carrying the war into the Holland +House country with inimitable spirit and cogency. +"Do, for Heaven's sake, let your Whigs do something +popular and effective this session. Don't +you see the nation is now divided into two, and +only two parties; and that <i>between</i> these stand +the Whigs, utterly inefficient, and incapable of +ever becoming efficient, if they will still maintain +themselves at an equal distance from both. +You must lay aside a great part of your aristocratic +feelings, and side with the most respectable +and sane of the democrats."</p> + +<p>The vigorous wisdom of the advice was amply +proved by subsequent events, and its courage +nobody will doubt who knows any thing of what +Scotland was at the time. In office, if not in +intellect, the Tories were supreme. A single +one of the Dundases named the sixteen Scots +peers, and forty-three of the Scots commoners; +nor was it an impossible farce, that the sheriff +of a county should be the only freeholder present +at the election of a member to represent it in +Parliament, should as freeholder vote himself +chairman, should as chairman receive the oaths +and the writ for himself as sheriff, should as +chairman and sheriff sign them, should propose +himself as candidate, declare himself elected, +dictate and sign the minutes of election, make +the necessary indenture between the various +parties represented solely by himself, transmit +it to the Crown-office, and take his seat by the +same night's mail to vote with Mr. Addington! +We must recollect such things, when we would really +understand the services of such men as Jeffrey. +We must remember the evil and injustice he so +strenuously labored to remove, and the cost at +which his labor was given. We must bear in +mind that he had to face day by day, in the exercise +of his profession, the very men most interested +in the abuses actively assailed, and keenly +resolved, as far as possible, to disturb and discredit +their assailant. "Oh, Mr. Smith," said +Lord Stowell to Sydney, "you would have been +a much richer man if you had come over to us!" +This was in effect the sort of thing said to Jeffrey +daily in the Court of Session, and disregarded +with generous scorn. What it is to an advocate +to be on the deaf side of "the ear of the +Court," none but an advocate can know; and +this, with Jeffrey, was the twenty-five years' +penalty imposed upon him for desiring to see +the Catholics emancipated, the consciences of +dissenters relieved, the barbarism of jurisprudence +mitigated, and the trade in human souls +abolished.</p> + +<p>The Scotch Tories died hard. Worsted in fair +fight they resorted to foul; and among the publications +avowedly established for personal slander +of their adversaries, a pre-eminence so infamous +was obtained by the Beacon, that it +disgraced the cause irretrievably. Against this +malignant libeler Jeffrey rose in the Court of +Session again and again, and the result of its +last prosecution showed the power of the party +represented by it thoroughly broken. The successful +advocate, at length triumphant even in +that Court over the memory of his talents and +virtues elsewhere, had now forced himself into +the front rank of his profession; and they who +listened to his advocacy found it even more +marvelous than his criticism, for power, versatility, +and variety. Such rapidity yet precision +of thought, such volubility yet clearness of utterance, +left all competitors behind. Hardly any +subject could be so indifferent or uninviting, that +this teeming and fertile intellect did not surround +it with a thousand graces of allusion, illustration, +and fanciful expression. He might have suggested +Butler's hero,</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">"—who could not ope<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His mouth but out there flew a trope,"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>with the difference that each trope flew to its +proper mark, each fancy found its place in the +dazzling profusion, and he could at all times, +with a charming and instinctive ease, put the +nicest restraints and checks on his glowing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span> +velocity of declamation. A worthy Glasgow +baillie, smarting under an adverse verdict obtained +by these facilities of speech, could find +nothing so bitter to advance against the speaker +as a calculation made with the help of Johnson's +Dictionary, to the effect that Mr. Jeffrey, in the +course of a few hours, had spoken the whole +English language twice over!</p> + +<p>But the Glasgow baillie made little impression +on his fellow citizens; and from Glasgow came +the first public tribute to Jeffrey's now achieved +position, and legal as well as literary fame. He +was elected Lord Rector of the University in +1821 and 1822. Some seven or eight years +previously he had married the accomplished lady +who survives him, a grand-niece of the celebrated +Wilkes; and had purchased the lease of the +villa near Edinburgh which he occupied to the +time of his death, and whose romantic woods +and grounds will long be associated with his +name. At each step of his career a new distinction +now awaited him, and with every new +occasion his unflagging energies seemed to rise +and expand. He never wrote with such masterly +success for his Review as when his whole +time appeared to be occupied with criminal +prosecutions, with contested elections, with +journeyings from place to place, with examinings +and cross-examinings, with speeches, addresses, +exhortations, denunciations. In all conditions +and on all occasions, a very atmosphere +of activity was around him. Even as he sat, +apparently still, waiting to address a jury or +amaze a witness, it made a slow man nervous to +look at him. Such a flush of energy vibrated +through that delicate frame, such rapid and +never ceasing thought played on those thin lips, +such restless flashes of light broke from those +kindling eyes. You continued to look at him, +till his very silence acted as a spell; and it +ceased to be difficult to associate with his small +but well-knit figure even the giant-like labors +and exertions of this part of his astonishing +career.</p> + +<p>At length, in 1829, he was elected Dean of +the Faculty of Advocates; and thinking it unbecoming +that the official head of a great law +corporation should continue the editing of a party +organ, he surrendered the management of the +Edinburgh Review. In the year following, he +took office with the Whigs as Lord Advocate, +and replaced Sir James Scarlett in Lord Fitzwilliam's +borough of Malton. In the next +memorable year he contested his native city +against a Dundas; not succeeding in his election, +but dealing the last heavy blow to his opponent's +sinking dynasty. Subsequently he took his seat +as Member for Perth, introduced and carried the +Scotch Reform bill, and in the December of 1832 +was declared member for Edinburgh. He had +some great sorrows at this time to check and +alloy his triumphs. Probably no man had gone +through a life of eager conflict and active +antagonism with a heart so sensitive to the +gentler emotions, and the deaths of Mackintosh +and Scott affected him deeply. He had had +occasion, during the illness of the latter, to +allude to him in the House of Commons; and +he did this with so much beauty and delicacy, +with such manly admiration of the genius and +modest deference to the opinions of his great +Tory friend, that Sir Robert Peel made a journey +across the floor of the house to thank him cordially +for it.</p> + +<p>The House of Commons nevertheless was +not his natural element, and when, in 1834, a +vacancy in the Court of Session invited him to +his due promotion, he gladly accepted the dignified +and honorable office so nobly earned by +his labors and services. He was in his sixty-second +year at the time of his appointment, and +he continued for nearly sixteen years the chief +ornament of the Court in which he sat. In +former days the judgment-seats in Scotland had +not been unused to the graces of literature; but +in Jeffrey these were combined with an acute +and profound knowledge of law less usual in +that connection; and also with such a charm of +demeanor, such a play of fancy and wit sobered +to the kindliest courtesies, such clear sagacity, +perfect freedom from bias, consideration for all +differences of opinion; and integrity, independence, +and broad comprehensiveness of view in +maintaining his own; that there has never been +but one feeling as to his judicial career. Universal +veneration and respect attended it. The +speculative studies of his youth had done much +to soften all the asperities of his varied and +vigorous life, and now, at its close, they gave to +his judgments a large reflectiveness of tone, a +moral beauty of feeling, and a philosophy of +charity and good taste, which have left to his +successors in that Court of Session no nobler +models for imitation and example. Impatience +of dullness <i>would</i> break from him, now and then; +and the still busy activity of his mind might be +seen as he rose often suddenly from his seat, and +paced up and down before it; but in his charges +or decisions nothing of this feeling was perceptible, +except that lightness and grace of expression +in which his youth seemed to linger to the +last, and a quick sensibility to emotion and enjoyment +which half concealed the ravages of +time.</p> + +<p>If such was the public estimation of this great +and amiable man, to the very termination of his +useful life, what language should describe the +charm of his influence in his private and domestic +circle? The affectionate pride with which every +citizen of Edinburgh regarded him rose here to +a kind of idolatry. For here the whole man +was known—his kind heart, his open hand, his +genial talk, his ready sympathy, his generous +encouragement and assistance to all that needed +it. The first passion of his life was its last, and +never was the love of literature so bright within +him as at the brink of the grave. What dims +and deadens the impressibility of most men, had +rendered his not only more acute and fresh, but +more tributary to calm satisfaction, and pure +enjoyment. He did not live merely in the past +as age is wont to do, but drew delight from<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span> +every present manifestation of worth, or genius, +from whatever quarter it addressed him. His +vivid pleasure where his interest was awakened, +his alacrity and eagerness of appreciation, the +fervor of his encouragement and praise, have +animated the hopes and relieved the toil alike of +the successful and the unsuccessful, who can not +hope, through whatever checkered future may +await them, to find a more, generous critic, a +more profound adviser, a more indulgent friend.</p> + +<p>The present year opened upon Francis Jeffrey +with all hopeful promise. He had mastered a +severe illness, and resumed his duties with his +accustomed cheerfulness; private circumstances +had more than ordinarily interested him in his +old Review; and the memory of past friends, +giving yet greater strength to the affection that +surrounded him, was busy at his heart. "God +bless you!" he wrote to Sydney Smith's widow +on the night of the 18th of January; "I am +very old, and have many infirmities; but I am +tenacious of old friendships, and find much of +my present enjoyments in the recollections of +the past." He sat in Court the next day, and +on the Monday and Tuesday of the following +week, with his faculties and attention unimpaired. +On the Wednesday he had a slight attack of +bronchitis; on Friday, symptoms of danger appeared; +and on Saturday he died, peacefully +and without pain. Few men had completed +with such consummate success the work appointed +them in this world; few men had passed +away to a better with more assured hopes of +their reward. The recollection of his virtues +sanctifies his fame; and his genius will never +cease to awaken the gratitude, respect, and +pride of his countrymen.</p> + +<h4><span class="smcap">Hail and Farewell!</span></h4> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>METAL IN SEA-WATER.</h2> + + +<p>The French <i>savans</i>, MM. Malaguti, Derocher, +and Sarzeaud, announce that they have detected +in the waters of the ocean the presence +of copper, lead, and silver. The water examined +appears to have been taken some leagues off the +coast of St. Malo, and the fucoidal plants of that +district are also found to contain silver. The +<i>F. serratus</i> and the <i>F. ceramoides</i> yielded ashes +containing 1-100,000th, while the water of the sea +contained but little more than 1-100,000,000th. +They state also that they find silver in sea-salt, +in ordinary muriatic acid, and in the soda of +commerce; and that they have examined the +rock-salt of Lorraine, in which also they discover +this metal. Beyond this, pursuing their researches +on terrestrial plants, they have obtained +such indications as leave no doubt of the +existence of silver in vegetable tissues. Lead +is said to be always found in the ashes of marine +plants, usually about an 18-100,000th part, and +invariably a trace of copper. Should these results +be confirmed by further examination, we +shall have advanced considerably toward a +knowledge of the phenomena of the formation +of mineral veins.—<i>Athenæum.</i></p> + + +<p><a name="Page_71a" id="Page_71a"></a></p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3>[From Bentley's Miscellany.]</h3> + +<h2>DR. JOHNSON: HIS RELIGIOUS LIFE, AND HIS DEATH.</h2> + + +<p>The title is a captivating one, and will allure +many, but it very feebly expresses the contents +of the volume, which brings under our observation +the religious opinions of scores upon +scores of other men, and is enriched with numerous +anecdotes of the contemporaries of the great +lexicographer. The book, indeed, may be considered +as a condensation of all that was known +and recorded of Dr. Johnson's practice and experience +of religion from his youth to his death; +of its powerful influence over him through many +years of his life—of the nature of his faith, and +of its fruits in his works; but there is added to +this so much that is excellent of other people—the +life of the soul is seen in so many other +characters—so many subjects are introduced +that are more or less intimately connected with +that to which the title refers, and all are so admirably +blended together, and interwoven with +the excellent remarks of the author, as to justify +us in saying of the book, that it is one of the most +edifying and really useful we have for years past +met with.</p> + +<p>It has often been our lot to see the sneers of +beardless boys at the mention of religion, and to +hear the titter of the empty-headed when piety +was spoken of, and we always then thought of +the profound awe with which the mighty mind +of Dr. Johnson was impressed by such subjects—of +his deep humiliation of soul when he reflected +upon his duties and responsibilities—and +of his solemn and reverential manner when +religion became the topic of discourse, or the +subject of his thoughts. His intellect, one of +the grandest that was ever given to man, humbled +itself to the very dust before the Giver; +the very superiority of his mental powers over +those of other men, made him but feel himself +the less in his own sight, when he reflected from +whom he had his being, and to whom he must +render an account of the use he made of the +vast intellectual powers he possessed.</p> + +<p>But the religion of Dr. Johnson consisted not +in deep feeling only, nor in much talking nor +professing, but was especially distinguished by +its practical benevolence; when he possessed +but two-pence, one penny was always at the +service of any one who had nothing at all; his +poor house was an asylum for the poor, a home +for the destitute; there, for months and years +together, he sheltered and supported the needy +and the blind, at a time when his utmost efforts +could do no more than provide bare support for +them and himself. Those whom he loved not +he would serve—those whom he esteemed not +he would give to, and labor for, and devote the +best powers of his pen to help and to benefit.</p> + +<p>The cry of distress, the appeal of the afflicted, +was irresistible with him—no matter whatever +else pressed upon him—whatever literary calls +were urging him—or however great the need +of the daily toil for the daily bread—all was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span> +abandoned till the houseless were sheltered, till +the hungry were fed, and the defenseless were +protected; and it would be difficult to name any +of all Dr. Johnson's contemporaries—he in all his +poverty, and they in all their abundance—in +whose lives such proofs could be found of the +most enlarged charity and unwearied benevolence.</p> + +<p>But the book treats of so many subjects, of so +much that is connected with religion in general, +and with the Church of England in particular, +that we can really do no more than refer our +readers to the volume itself; with the assurance +that they will find in it much useful and agreeable +information on all those many matters which +are connected in these times with Church interests, +and which are more or less influencing all +classes of the religious public.</p> + +<p>The author writes freely, and with great +power; he argues ably, and discusses liberally +all the points of religious controversy, and a very +delightful volume is the result of his labors. It +must do good, it must please and improve the +mind, as well as delight the heart of all who read +it. Indeed, no one not equal to the work could +have ventured upon it without lasting disgrace +had he failed in it; a dissertation upon the faith +and morals of a man whose fame has so long +filled the world, and in whose writings so much +of his religious feelings are displayed, and so +much of his spiritual life is unvailed, must be +admirably written to receive any favor from the +public; and we think that the author has so +ably done what he undertook to do, that that +full measure of praise will be awarded to him, +which in our judgment he deserves.</p> + +<p>A perusal of this excellent work reminds us +of the recent sale of some letters and documents +of Dr. Johnson from Mr. Linnecar's collection. +The edifying example of this good and great +man, so well set forth in the present volume, is +fully borne out in an admirable prayer composed +by Dr. Johnson, a few months before his death, +the original copy of which was here disposed of. +For the gratification of the reader, we may be +allowed to give the following brief abstract of +the contents of these papers:</p> + +<p class="center">"To <span class="smcap">David Garrick.</span></p> +<p class="right"><span style="margin-right: 3em;">"Streatham, December 13, 1771.</span></p> + +<blockquote><p>"I have thought upon your epitaph, but without +much effect; an epitaph is no easy thing. +Of your three stanzas, the third is utterly unworthy +of you. The first and third together +give no discriminative character. If the first +alone were to stand, Hogarth would not be distinguished +from any other man of intellectual +eminence. Suppose you worked upon something +like this:</p></blockquote> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"The hand of Art here torpid lies,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That traced th' essential form of grace,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here death has clos'd the curious eyes<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That saw the manners in the face.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">If genius warm thee, Reader, stay,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">If merit touch thee, shed a tear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Be Vice and Dullness far away,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Great Hogarth's honor'd dust is here."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><br />"To <span class="smcap">Dr. Farmer.</span></p> +<p class="right"><span style="margin-right: 3em;">"Bolt Court, July 22d, 1777.</span></p> + +<blockquote><p>"The booksellers of London have undertaken +a kind of body of English Poetry, excluding +generally the dramas, and I have undertaken to +put before each author's works a sketch of his +life, and a character of his writings. Of some, +however, I know very little, and am afraid I +shall not easily supply my deficiencies. Be +pleased to inform me whether among Mr. Burke's +manuscripts, or any where else at Cambridge any +materials are to be found."</p></blockquote> + +<p class="center"><br />"To <span class="smcap">Ozias Humphrey.</span></p> +<p class="right"><span style="margin-right: 3em;">"May 31st, 1784.</span></p> + +<blockquote><p>"I am very much obliged by your civilities to +my godson, and must beg of you to add to them +the favor of permitting him to see you paint, that +he may know how a picture is begun, advanced +and completed. If he may attend you in a few +of your operations, I hope he will show that the +benefit has been properly conferred, both by his +proficiency and his gratitude."</p></blockquote> + +<p><br />The following beautiful prayer is dated Ashbourne, +Sept. 18, 1784:</p> + +<blockquote><p>"Make me truly thankful for the call by +which Thou hast awakened my conscience and +summoned me to repentance. Let not Thy +call, O Lord, be forgotten, or Thy summons +neglected, but let the residue of my life, whatever +it shall be, be passed in true contrition, +and diligent obedience. Let me repent of the +sins of my past life, and so keep Thy laws for +the time to come, that when it shall be Thy good +pleasure to call me to another state, I may find +mercy in Thy sight. Let Thy Holy Spirit support +me in the hour of death, and, O Lord, grant +me pardon in the day of Judgment."</p></blockquote> + +<p>Besides the above, Dr. Johnson's celebrated +letter to the author of "Ossian's Poems," in +which he says, "I will not be deterred from +detecting what I think to be a cheat by the +menaces of a ruffian," was sold at this sale for +twelve guineas.</p> + + +<p><a name="Page_72a" id="Page_72a"></a></p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>SONETTO.</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">from the italian of benedetto menzini</span>.</h3> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I planted once a laurel tree,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And breathed to heaven an humble vow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That Phœbus' favorite it might be,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And shade and deck a poet's brow!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I prayed to Zephyr that his wing,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Descending through the April sky,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Might wave the boughs in early spring<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And brush rude Boreas frowning by.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And slowly Phœbus heard the prayer,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And slowly, slowly, grew the tree,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And others sprang more fast and fair,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Yet marvel not that this should be;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For tardier still the growth of Fame—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And who is <i>he</i> the crown may claim?<br /></span> +<span class="i16"><span class="smcap">Eta</span><br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span></div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3>[From Household Words.]</h3> + +<h2>A CHILD'S DREAM OF A STAR.</h2> + + +<p>There was once a child, and he strolled +about a good deal, and thought of a number +of things. He had a sister, who was a child too, +and his constant companion. These two used +to wonder all day long. They wondered at the +beauty of the flowers; they wondered at the +height and blueness of the sky; they wondered +at the depth of the bright water; they wondered +at the goodness and the power of God who +made the lovely world.</p> + +<p>They used to say to one another, sometimes, +Supposing all the children upon earth were to +die, would the flowers, and the water, and the +sky be sorry? They believed they would be +sorry. For, said they, the buds are the children +of the flowers, and the little playful streams +that gambol down the hill-sides are the children +of the water; and the smallest bright specks, +playing at hide and seek in the sky all night, +must surely be the children of the stars; and +they would all be grieved to see their playmates, +the children of men, no more.</p> + +<p>There was one clear, shining star that used +to come out in the sky before the rest, near the +church spire, above the graves. It was larger +and more beautiful, they thought, than all the +others, and every night they watched for it, +standing hand in hand at a window. Whoever +saw it first, cried out, "I see the star!" And +often they cried out both together, knowing so +well when it would rise, and where. So they +grew to be such friends with it, that, before lying +down in their beds, they always looked out +once again, to bid it good night; and when they +were turning round to sleep, they used to say, +"God bless the star!"</p> + +<p>But while she was still very young, oh very, +very young, the sister drooped, and came to be +so weak that she could no longer stand in the +window at night; and then the child looked +sadly out by himself, and when he saw the star, +turned round and said to the patient, pale face +on the bed, "I see the star!" and then a smile +would come upon the face, and a little, weak +voice used to say, "God bless my brother and +the star!"</p> + +<p>And so the time came, all too soon! when +the child looked out alone, and when there was +no face on the bed; and when there was a little +grave among the graves, not there before; and +when the star made long rays down toward him, +as he saw it through his tears.</p> + +<p>Now, these rays were so bright, and they +seemed to make such a shining way from earth +to heaven, that when the child went to his solitary +bed, he dreamed about the star; and +dreamed that, lying where he was, he saw a +train of people taken up that sparkling road by +angels. And the star, opening, showed him a +great world of light, where many more such +angels waited to receive them.</p> + +<p>All these angels, who were waiting, turned +their beaming eyes upon the people who were +carried up into the star; and some came out +from the long rows in which they stood, and fell +upon the people's necks, and kissed them tenderly, +and went away with them down avenues +of light, and were so happy in their company, +that lying in his bed he wept for joy.</p> + +<p>But there were many angels who did not go +with them, and among them one he knew. The +patient face that once had lain upon the bed +was glorified and radiant, but his heart found +out his sister among all the host.</p> + +<p>His sister's angel lingered near the entrance +of the star, and said to the leader among those +who had brought the people thither:</p> + +<p>"Is my brother come?"</p> + +<p>And he said "No."</p> + +<p>She was turning hopefully away, when the +child stretched out his arms, and cried, "O, +sister, I am here! Take me!" and then she +turned her beaming eyes upon him, and it was +night; and the star was shining into the room, +making long rays down toward him as he saw +it through his tears.</p> + +<p>From that hour forth, the child looked out +upon the star as on the Home he was to go to, +when his time should come; and he thought +that he did not belong to the earth alone, but to +the star too, because of his sister's angel gone +before.</p> + +<p>There was a baby born to be a brother to +the child; and while he was so little that he +never yet had spoken word, he stretched his +tiny form out on his bed, and died.</p> + +<p>Again the child dreamed of the opened star, +and of the company of angels, and the train of +people, and the rows of angels with their beaming +eyes all turned upon those people's faces.</p> + +<p>Said his sister's angel to the leader:</p> + +<p>"Is my brother come?"</p> + +<p>And he said, "Not that one, but another."</p> + +<p>As the child beheld his brother's angel in her +arms, he cried, "O, sister, I am here! Take +me!" And she turned and smiled upon him, +and the star was shining.</p> + +<p>He grew to be a young man, and was busy +at his books, when an old servant came to him, +and said,</p> + +<p>"Thy mother is no more. I bring her blessing +on her darling son!"</p> + +<p>Again at night he saw the star, and all that +former company. Said his sister's angel to the +leader:</p> + +<p>"Is my brother come?"</p> + +<p>And he said, "Thy mother!"</p> + +<p>A mighty cry of joy went forth through all +the star, because the mother was reunited to +her two children. And he stretched out his +arms and cried, "O, mother, sister, and brother, +I am here! Take me!" And they answered +him, "Not yet," and the star was shining.</p> + +<p>He grew to be a man, whose hair was turning +gray, and he was sitting in his chair by the fireside, +heavy with grief, and with his face bedewed +with tears, when the star opened once again.</p> + +<p>Said his sister's angel to the leader, "Is my +brother come?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span></p> + +<p>And he said, "Nay, but his maiden daughter."</p> + +<p>And the man who had been the child saw his +daughter, newly lost to him, a celestial creature +among those three, and he said, "My daughter's +head is on my sister's bosom, and her arm is +round my mother's neck, and at her feet there +is the baby of old time, and I can bear the parting +from her, God be praised!"</p> + +<p>And the star was shining.</p> + +<p>Thus the child came to be an old man, and +his once smooth face was wrinkled, and his +steps were slow and feeble, and his back was +bent. And one night as he lay upon his bed, +his children standing round, he cried, as he had +cried so long ago,</p> + +<p>"I see the star!"</p> + +<p>They whispered one another, "He is dying."</p> + +<p>And he said, "I am. My age is falling from +me like a garment, and I move toward the star +as a child. And O, my Father, now I thank +thee that it has so often opened, to receive those +dear ones who await me!"</p> + +<p>And the star was shining; and it shines upon +his grave.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>LONGFELLOW.</h2> + + +<p>The muse of Mr. Longfellow owes little or +none of her success to those great national +sources of inspiration which are most likely to +influence an ardent poetic temperament. The +grand old woods—the magnificent mountain and +forest scenery—the mighty rivers—the trackless +savannahs—all those stupendous and varied features +of that great country, with which, from +his boyhood, he must have been familiar, it might +be thought would have stamped some of these +characteristics upon his poetry. Such, however, +has not been the case. Of lofty images and +grand conceptions we meet with few, if any, +traces. But brimful of life, of love, and of truth, +the stream of his song flows on with a tender +and touching simplicity, and a gentle music, +which we have not met with since the days of +our own Moore. Like him, too, the genius of +Mr. Longfellow is essentially lyric; and if he +has failed to derive inspiration from the grand +features of his own country, he has been no unsuccessful +student of the great works of the +German masters of song. We could almost +fancy, while reading his exquisite ballad of the +"Beleaguered City," that Goethe, Schiller, or +Uhland was before us; and yet, we must by no +means be understood to insinuate that he is a +mere copyist—quite the contrary. He has become +so thoroughly imbued with the spirit of +these exquisite models, that he has contrived to +produce pieces marked with an individuality of +their own, and noways behind them in point of +poetical merit. In this regard he affords another +illustration of the truth of the proposition, that +the legendary lore and traditions of other countries +have been very serviceable toward the +formation of American literature.</p> + +<p>About the year 1837, Longfellow, being engaged +in making the tour of Europe, selected +Heidelberg for a permanent winter residence. +There his wife was attacked with an illness, +which ultimately proved fatal. It so happened, +however, that some time afterward there came +to the same romantic place a young lady of considerable +personal attractions. The poet's heart +was touched—he became attached to her; but +the beauty of sixteen did not sympathize with +the poet of six-and-thirty, and Longfellow returned +to America, having lost his heart as well +as his wife. The young lady, also an American, +returned home shortly afterward. Their residences, +it turned out, were contiguous, and the +poet availed himself of the opportunity of prosecuting +his addresses, which he did for a considerable +time with no better success than at first. +Thus foiled, he set himself resolutely down, and +instead, like Petrarch, of laying siege to the +heart of his mistress through the medium of +sonnets, he resolved to write a whole book; a +book which would achieve the double object of +gaining her affections, and of establishing his +own fame. "Hyperion" was the result. His +labor and his constancy were not thrown away: +they met their due reward. The lady gave him +her hand as well as her heart; and they now +reside together at Cambridge, in the same house +which Washington made his head-quarters when +he was first appointed to the command of the +American armies. These interesting facts were +communicated to us by a very intelligent American +gentleman whom we had the pleasure of +meeting in the same place which was the scene +of the poet's early disappointment and sorrow.—<i>Dublin +University Magazine.</i></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>THE CHAPEL BY THE SHORE.</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">By the shore, a plot of ground<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Clips a ruined chapel round,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Buttressed with a grassy mound;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Where Day, and Night, and Day go by<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And bring no touch of human sound.<br /></span> +</div><br /><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Washing of the lonely seas—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shaking of the guardian trees—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Piping of the salted breeze—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Day, and Night, and Day go by,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the endless tune of these.<br /></span> +</div><br /><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Or when, as winds and waters keep<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A hush more dead than any sleep,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still morns to stiller evenings creep,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And Day, and Night, and Day go by<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here the stillness is most deep.<br /></span> +</div><br /><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And the ruins, lapsed again<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Into Nature's wide domain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sow themselves with seed and grain,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">As Day, and Night, and Day go by,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And hoard June's sun and April's rain.<br /></span> +</div><br /><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Here fresh funeral tears were shed;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And now the graves are also dead:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And suckers from the ash-tree spread,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">As Day, and Night, and Day go by<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And stars move calmly overhead.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span></div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3>[From Household Words.]</h3> + +<h2>ILLUSTRATIONS OF CHEAPNESS.</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">the lucifer match.</span></h3> + + +<p>Some twenty years ago the process of obtaining +fire, in every house in England, +with few exceptions, was as rude, as laborious, +and as uncertain, as the effort of the Indian to +produce a flame by the friction of two dry +sticks.</p> + +<p>The nightlamp and the rushlight were for +the comparatively luxurious. In the bedrooms +of the cottager, the artisan, and the small tradesman, +the infant at its mother's side too often +awoke, like Milton's nightingale, "darkling"—but +that "nocturnal note" was something different +from "harmonious numbers." The mother +was soon on her feet; the friendly tinder-box +was duly sought. Click, click, click; not a +spark tells upon the sullen blackness. More +rapidly does the flint ply the sympathetic steel. +The room is bright with the radiant shower. +But the child, familiar enough with the operation, +is impatient at its tediousness, and shouts +till the mother is frantic. At length one lucky +spark does its office—the tinder is alight. Now +for the match. It will not burn. A gentle +breath is wafted into the murky box; the face +that leans over the tinder is in a glow. Another +match, and another, and another. They +are all damp. The toil-worn father "swears a +prayer or two," the baby is inexorable; and +the misery is only ended when the goodman +has gone to the street door, and after long +shivering has obtained a light from the watchman.</p> + +<p>In this, the beginning of our series of Illustrations +of Cheapness, let us trace this antique +machinery through the various stages of its production.</p> + +<p>The tinder-box and the steel had nothing +peculiar. The tinman made the one as he made +the saucepan, with hammer and shears; the +other was forged at the great metal factories of +Sheffield and Birmingham; and happy was it +for the purchaser if it were something better +than a rude piece of iron, very uncomfortable to +grasp. The nearest chalk quarry supplied the +flint. The domestic manufacture of the tinder +was a serious affair. At due seasons, and very +often if the premises were damp, a stifling smell +rose from the kitchen, which, to those who +were not intimate with the process, suggested +doubts whether the house were not on fire. +The best linen rag was periodically burnt, and +its ashes deposited in the tinman's box, pressed +down with a close fitting lid, upon which the +flint and steel reposed. The match was chiefly +an article of itinerant traffic. The chandler's +shop was almost ashamed of it. The mendicant +was the universal match-seller. The girl who +led the blind beggar had invariably a basket of +matches. In the day they were vendors of +matches—in the evening manufacturers. On +the floor of the hovel sit two or three squalid +children, splitting deal with a common knife. +The matron is watching a pipkin upon a slow +fire. The fumes which it gives forth are blinding +as the brimstone's liquifying. Little bundles +of split deal are ready to be dipped, three +or four at a time. When the pennyworth of +brimstone is used up, when the capital is exhausted, +the night's labor is over. In the summer, +the manufacture is suspended, or conducted +upon fraudulent principles. Fire is then +needless; so delusive matches must be produced—wet +splints dipped in powdered sulphur. They +will never burn, but they will do to sell to the +unwary maid-of-all-work.</p> + +<p>About twenty years ago Chemistry discovered +that the tinder-box might be abolished. But +Chemistry set about its function with especial +reference to the wants and the means of the +rich few. In the same way the first printed +books were designed to have a great resemblance +to manuscripts, and those of the wealthy +class were alone looked to as the purchasers of +the skillful imitations. The first chemical light +producer was a complex and ornamental casket, +sold at a guinea. In a year or so, there were +pretty portable cases of a phial and matches, +which enthusiastic young housekeepers regarded +as the cheapest of all treasures at five shillings. +By-and-by the light-box was sold as low as a +shilling. The fire revolution was slowly approaching. +The old dynasty of the tinder-box +maintained its predominance for a short while +in kitchen and garret, in farm-house and cottage. +At length some bold adventurer saw that the +new chemical discovery might be employed for +the production of a large article of trade—that +matches, in themselves the vehicles of fire without +aid of spark and tinder, might be manufactured +upon the factory system—that the humblest +in the land might have a new and indispensable +comfort at the very lowest rate of cheapness. +When Chemistry saw that phosphorus, having +an affinity for oxygen at the lowest temperature, +would ignite upon slight friction, and so ignited +would ignite sulphur, which required a much +higher temperature to become inflammable, thus +making the phosphorus do the work of the old +tinder with far greater certainty; or when +Chemistry found that chlorate of potash by slight +friction might be exploded so as to produce +combustion, and might be safely used in the +same combination—a blessing was bestowed +upon society that can scarcely be measured by +those who have had no former knowledge of the +miseries and privations of the tinder-box. The +Penny Box of Lucifers, or Congreves, or by +whatever name called, is a real triumph of +Science, and an advance in civilization.</p> + +<p>Let us now look somewhat closely and practically +into the manufacture of a Lucifer Match.</p> + +<p>The combustible materials used in the manufacture +render the process an unsafe one. It +can not be carried on in the heart of towns +without being regarded as a common nuisance. +We must therefore go somewhere in the suburbs +of London to find such a trade. In the neighborhood<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span> +of Bethnal Green there is a large open +space called Wisker's Gardens. This is not a +place of courts and alleys, but a considerable +area, literally divided into small gardens, where +just now the crocus and the snowdrop are telling +hopefully of the springtime. Each garden +has the smallest of cottages—for the most part +wooden—which have been converted from summer-houses +into dwellings. The whole place +reminds one of numberless passages in the old +dramatists, in which the citizens' wives are +described in their garden-houses of Finsbury or +Hogsden, sipping syllabub and talking fine on +summer holidays. In one of these garden-houses, +not far from the public road, is the little factory +of "Henry Lester, Patentee of the Domestic +Safety Match-box," as his label proclaims. He +is very ready to show his processes, which in +many respects are curious and interesting.</p> + +<p>Adam Smith has instructed us that the business +of making a pin is divided into about +eighteen distinct operations; and further, that +ten persons could make upward of forty-eight +thousand pins a day with the division of labor; +while if they had all wrought independently and +separately, and without any of them having +been educated to this peculiar business, they +certainly could not each of them have made +twenty. The Lucifer Match is a similar example +of division of labor, and the skill of long, +practice. At a separate factory, where there +is a steam-engine, not the refuse of the carpenter's +shop, but the best Norway deals are +cut into splints by machinery, and are supplied +to the match-maker. These little pieces, beautifully +accurate in their minute squareness, and +in their precise length of five inches, are made +up into bundles, each of which contains eighteen +hundred. They are daily brought on a truck +to the dipping-house, as it is called—the average +number of matches finished off daily requiring +two hundred of these bundles. Up to this +point we have had several hands employed in +the preparation of the match, in connection with +the machinery that cuts the wood. Let us follow +one of these bundles through the subsequent +processes. Without being separated, each end +of the bundle is first dipped into sulphur. When +dry, the splints, adhering to each other by means +of the sulphur, must be parted by what is called +dusting. A boy sitting on the floor, with a +bundle before him, strikes the matches with a +sort of a mallet on the dipped ends till they become +thoroughly loosened. In the best matches +the process of sulphur-dipping and dusting is +repeated. They have now to be plunged into +a preparation of phosphorus or chlorate of potash, +according to the quality of the match. The +phosphorus produces the pale, noiseless fire; +the chlorate of potash the sharp, crackling illumination. +After this application of the more +inflammable substance, the matches are separated, +and dried in racks. Thoroughly dried, +they are gathered up again into bundles of the +same quantity; and are taken to the boys who +cut them; for the reader will have observed +that the bundles have been dipped at each end. +There are few things more remarkable in manufactures +than the extraordinary rapidity of this +cutting process, and that which is connected +with it. The boy stands before a bench, the +bundle on his right hand, a pile of half opened +empty boxes on his left, which have been manufactured +at another division of this establishment. +These boxes are formed of scale-board, +that is, thin slices of wood, planed or scaled off +a plank. The box itself is a marvel of neatness +and cheapness. It consists of an inner box, +without a top, in which the matches are placed, +and of an outer case, open at each end, into +which the first box slides. The matches, then, +are to be cut, and the empty boxes filled, by +one boy. A bundle is opened; he seizes a portion, +knowing, by long habit, the required number +with sufficient exactness; puts them rapidly +into a sort of frame, knocks the ends evenly +together, confines them with a strap which he +tightens with his foot, and cuts them in two +parts with a knife on a hinge, which he brings +down with a strong leverage: the halves lie +projecting over each end of the frame; he grasps +the left portion and thrusts it into a half open +box, which he instantly closes, and repeats the +process with the matches on his right hand. +This series of movements is performed with a +rapidity almost unexampled; for in this way, +two hundred thousand matches are cut, and two +thousand boxes filled in a day, by one boy, at +the wages of three halfpence per gross of boxes. +Each dozen boxes is then papered up, and they +are ready for the retailer. The number of boxes +daily filled at this factory is from fifty to sixty +gross.</p> + +<p>The <i>wholesale</i> price per dozen boxes of the +best matches is <span class="smcap">fourpence</span>, of the second quality, +<span class="smcap">threepence</span>.</p> + +<p>There are about ten Lucifer Match manufactories +in London. There are others in large +provincial towns. The wholesale business is +chiefly confined to the supply of the metropolis +and immediate neighborhood by the London +makers; for the railroad carriers refuse to receive +the article, which is considered dangerous +in transit. But we must not therefore assume +that the metropolitan populations consume the +metropolitan matches. Taking the population +at upward of two millions, and the inhabited +houses at about three hundred thousand, let us +endeavor to estimate the distribution of these +little articles of domestic comfort.</p> + +<p>At the manufactory at Wisker's Gardens +there are fifty gross, or seven thousand two +hundred boxes, turned out daily, made from +two hundred bundles, which will produce seven +hundred and twenty thousand matches. Taking +three hundred working days in the year, this +will give for one factory, two hundred and sixteen +millions of matches annually, or two millions +one hundred and sixty thousand boxes, +being a box of one hundred matches for every +individual of the London population. But there +are ten other Lucifer manufactories, which are<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span> +estimated to produce about four or five times as +many more. London certainly can not absorb +ten millions of Lucifer boxes annually, which +would be at the rate of thirty-three boxes to +each inhabited house. London, perhaps, demands +a third of the supply for its own consumption; +and at this rate the annual retail cost +for each house is eightpence, averaging those +boxes sold at a halfpenny, and those at a penny. +The manufacturer sells this article, produced +with such care as we have described, at one +farthing and a fraction per box.</p> + +<p>And thus, for the retail expenditure of three +farthings per month, every house in London, +from the highest to the lowest, may secure the +inestimable blessing of constant fire at all seasons, +and at all hours. London buys this for +ten thousand pounds annually.</p> + +<p>The excessive cheapness is produced by the +extension of the demand, enforcing the factory +division of labor, and the most exact saving of +material. The scientific discovery was the +foundation of the cheapness. But connected +with this general principle of cheapness, there +are one or two remarkable points, which deserve +attention.</p> + +<p>It is a law of this manufacture that the +demand is greater in the summer than in the +winter. The old match maker, as we have +mentioned, was idle in the summer—without +fire for heating the brimstone—or engaged in +more profitable field-work. A worthy woman, +who once kept a chandler's shop in a village, +informs us, that in summer she could buy no +matches for retail, but was obliged to make +them for her customers. The increased summer +demand for the Lucifer Matches shows +that the great consumption is among the masses—the +laboring population—those who make up +the vast majority of the contributors to duties +of customs and excise. In the houses of the +wealthy there is always fire; in the houses of +the poor, fire in summer is a needless hourly +expense. Then comes the Lucifer Match to +supply the want; to light the candle to look in +the dark cupboard—to light the afternoon fire +to boil the kettle. It is now unnecessary to +run to the neighbor for a light, or, as a desperate +resource, to work at the tinder-box. The +Lucifer Matches sometimes fail, but they cost +little, and so they are freely used, even by the +poorest.</p> + +<p>And this involves another great principle. +The demand for the Lucifer Match is always +continuous, for it is a perishable article. The +demand never ceases. Every match burnt demands +a new match to supply its place. This +continuity of demand renders the supply always +equal to the demand. The peculiar nature of +the commodity prevents any accumulation of +stock; its combustible character—requiring the +simple agency of friction to ignite it—renders +it dangerous for large quantities of the article +to be kept in one place. Therefore no one +makes for store, but all for immediate sale. +The average price, therefore, must always yield +a profit, or the production would altogether +cease. But these essential qualities limit the +profit. The manufacturers can not be rich +without secret processes or monopoly. The +contest is to obtain the largest profit by economical +management. The amount of skill required +in the laborers, and the facility of habit, +which makes fingers act with the precision of +machines, limit the number of laborers, and prevent +their impoverishment. Every condition of +this cheapness is a natural and beneficial result +of the laws that govern production.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>TUNNEL OF THE ALPS.</h2> + + +<p>The Sardinian Government is about to execute +a grand engineering project; it is going to +pierce the summit-ridge of the Alps with a tunnel +twice as long as any existing tunnel in the +world. A correspondent of the <i>Times</i> announces +the fact. From London as far as Chambery, +by the Lyons railroad, all is at present smooth +enough; and the Lyons road is indeed about to +be pushed up the ascents of Mont Meillaud and +St. Maurienne, even as far as Modane at the +foot of the Northern crest of the Graian and +Cottian Alps: but there all further progress is +arrested; you can not hope to carry a train to +Susa and Turin unless you pierce the snow +capped barrier itself: this is the very step which +the Chevalier Henry Maus projects. The +Chevalier is Honorary Inspector of the Génie +Civil; it was he who projected and executed +the great works on the Liége railroad. After +five years of incessant study, many practical +experiments, and the invention of new machinery +for boring the mountain, he made his final report +to the Government on the 8th of February, +1849. A commission of distinguished civil +engineers, artillery officers, geologists, senators, +and statesmen, have reported unanimously in +favor of the project; and the Government has +resolved to carry it out forthwith. The "Railroad +of the Alps," connecting the tunnel with +the Chambery railway on the one side and with +that of Susa on the other side, will be 36,565 +metres or 20 3/4 English miles in length, and will +cost 21,000,000 francs. The connecting tunnel +is thus described:</p> + +<p>"It will measure 12,290 metres, or nearly +seven English miles in length; its greatest +height will be 19 feet, and its width 25 feet, +admitting, of course, of a double line of rail. +Its northern entrance is to be at Modane, and +the southern entrance at Bardonneche, on the +river Mardovine. This latter entrance, being +the highest point of the intended line of rail, +will be 4,092 feet above the level of the sea, +and yet 2,400 feet below the highest or culminating +point of the great road or pass over +the Mont Cenis. It is intended to divide the +connecting lines of rail leading to either entrance +of the tunnel into eight inclined planes of about +5,000 metres or 2-1/2 English miles each, worked +like those at Liége, by endless cables and stationary +engines, but in the present case moved +by water-power derived from the torrents."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>THE FLOWER GATHERER.</h2> + +<h3>[<span class="smcap">from the german of krummacher</span>.]</h3> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"God sends upon the wings of Spring,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fresh thoughts into the breasts of flowers."<br /></span> +<span class="i12"><span class="smcap">Miss Bremer.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>The young and innocent Theresa had passed +the most beautiful part of the spring upon +a bed of sickness; and as soon as ever she began +to regain her strength, she spoke of flowers, +asking continually if her favorites were again as +lovely as they had been the year before, when +she had been able to seek for and admire them +herself. Erick, the sick girl's little brother, +took a basket, and showing it to his mamma, +said, in a whisper, "Mamma, I will run out +and get poor Theresa the prettiest I can find +in the fields." So out he ran, for the first time +for many a long day, and he thought that spring +had never been so beautiful before; for he +looked upon it with a gentle and loving heart, +and enjoyed a run in the fresh air, after having +been a prisoner by his sister's couch, whom he +had never left during her illness. The happy +child rambled about, up hill and down hill. +Nightingales sang, bees hummed, and butterflies +flitted round him, and the most lovely +flowers were blowing at his feet. He jumped +about, he danced, he sang, and wandered from +hedge to hedge, and from flower to flower, with +a soul as pure as the blue sky above him, and +eyes that sparkled like a little brook bubbling +from a rock. At last he had filled his basket +quite full of the prettiest flowers; and, to crown +all, he had made a wreath of field-strawberry +flowers, which he laid on the top of it, neatly +arranged on some grass, and one might fancy +them a string of pearls, they looked so pure and +fresh. The happy boy looked with delight at +his full basket, and putting it down by his side, +rested himself in the shade of an oak, on a carpet +of soft green moss. Here he sat, looking at the +beautiful prospect that lay spread out before him +in all the freshness of spring, and listening to the +ever-changing songs of the birds. But he had +really tired himself out with joy; and the merry +sounds of the fields, the buzzing of the insects, +and the birds' songs, all helped to send him to +sleep. And peacefully the fair child slumbered, +his rosy cheek resting on the hands that still +held his treasured basket.</p> + +<p>But while he slept a sudden change came on. +A storm arose in the heavens, but a few moments +before so blue and beautiful. Heavy +masses of clouds gathered darkly and ominously +together; the lightning flashed, and the thunder +rolled louder and nearer. Suddenly a gust of +wind roared in the boughs of the oak, and +startled the boy out of his quiet sleep. He saw +the whole heavens vailed by black clouds; not +a sunbeam gleamed over the fields, and a heavy +clap of thunder followed his waking. The poor +child stood up, bewildered at the sudden change; +and now the rain began to patter through the +leaves of the oak, so he snatched up his basket, +and ran toward home as fast as his legs could +carry him. The storm seemed to burst over his +head. Rain, hail, and thunder, striving for the +mastery, almost deafened him, and made him +more bewildered every minute. Water streamed +from his poor soaked curls down his shoulders, +and he could scarcely see to find his way homeward. +All on a sudden a more violent gust of +wind than usual caught the treasured basket, +and scattered all his carefully-collected flowers +far away over the field. His patience could +endure no longer, for his face grew distorted +with rage, and he flung the empty basket from +him, with a burst of anger. Crying bitterly, +and thoroughly wet, he reached at last his +parents' house in a pitiful plight.</p> + +<p>But soon another change appeared; the storm +passed away, and the sky grew clear again. +The birds began their songs anew, the countryman +his labor. The air had become cooler and +purer, and a bright calm seemed to lie lovingly +in every valley and on every hill. What a +delicious odor rose from the freshened fields! +and their cultivators looked with grateful joy at +the departing clouds, which had poured the fertilizing +rain upon them. The sight of the blue +sky soon tempted the frightened boy out again, +and being by this time ashamed of his ill-temper, +he went very quietly to look for his discarded +basket, and to try and fill it again. He seemed +to feel a new life within him. The cool breath +of the air—the smell of the fields—the leafy +trees—the warbling birds, all appeared doubly +beautiful after the storm, and the humiliating +consciousness of his foolish and unjust ill-temper +softened and chastened his joy. After a long +search he spied the basket lying on the slope +of a hill, for a bramble bush had caught it, and +sheltered it from the violence of the wind. The +child felt quite thankful to the ugly-looking bush +as he disentangled the basket.</p> + +<p>But how great was his delight on looking +around him, to see the fields spangled with +flowers, as numerous as the stars of heaven! +for the rain had nourished into blossom thousands +of daisies, opened thousands of buds, and scattered +pearly drops on every leaf. Erick flitted +about like a busy bee, and gathered away to his +heart's content. The sun was now near his +setting, and the happy child hastened home with +his basket full once more. How delighted he +was with his flowery treasure, and with the +pearly garland of fresh strawberry-flowers! +The rays of the sinking sun played over his fair +face as he wandered on, and gave his pretty +features a placid and contented expression. But +his eyes sparkled much more joyously when he +received the kisses and thanks of his gentle sister. +"Is it not true, dear," said his mother, +"that the pleasures we prepare for others are +the best of all?"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="smcap">Royal Road to Knowledge.</span>—A Mr. Jules +Aleix, of Paris, states that he has discovered a +new method of education, by which a child can +be taught to read in fifteen lessons, and has +petitioned the Assembly to expend 50,000 francs +on a model school to demonstrate the fact.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3>[From Household Words.]</h3> + +<h2>SHORT CUTS ACROSS THE GLOBE.</h2> + + +<p>To a person who wishes to sail for California +an inspection of the map of the world reveals +a provoking peculiarity. The Atlantic +Ocean—the highway of the globe—being separated +from the Pacific by the great western +continent, it is impossible to sail to the opposite +coasts without going thousands of miles out of +his way; for he must double Cape Horn. Yet +a closer inspection of the map will discover that +but for one little barrier of land, which is in size +but as a grain of sand to the bed of an ocean, +the passage would be direct. Were it not for +that small neck of land, the Isthmus of Panama +(which narrows in one place to twenty-eight +miles) he might save a voyage of from six to +eight thousand miles, and pass at once into the +Pacific Ocean. Again, if his desires tend toward +the East, he perceives that but for the +Isthmus of Suez, he would not be obliged to +double the Cape of Good Hope. The eastern +difficulty has been partially obviated by the overland +route opened up by the ill-rewarded Waghorn. +The western barrier has yet to be broken +through.</p> + +<p>Now that we can shake hands with Brother +Jonathan in twelve days by means of weekly +steamers; travel from one end of Great Britain +to another, or from the Hudson to the Ohio, as +fast as the wind, and make our words dance to +distant friends upon the magic tight wire a great +deal faster—now that the European and Columbian +Saxon is spreading his children more or less +over all the known habitable world: it seems +extraordinary that the simple expedient of opening +a twenty-eight mile passage between the +Pacific and Atlantic Oceans, to save a dangerous +voyage of some eight thousand miles, has +not been already achieved. In this age of enterprise +that so simple a remedy for so great an +evil should not have been applied appears astonishing. +Nay, we ought to feel some shame when +we reflect that evidences in the neighborhood +of both isthmuses exist of such junction having +existed, in what we are pleased to designate +"barbarous" ages.</p> + +<p>Does nature present insurmountable engineering +difficulties to the Panama scheme? By no +means: for after the Croton aqueduct, our own +railway tunneling, and the Britannia tubular +bridge, engineering difficulties have become obsolete. +Are the levels of the Pacific and the +Gulf of Mexico, which should be joined, so different, +that if one were admitted the fall would +inundate the surrounding country? Not at all. +Hear Humboldt on these points.</p> + +<p>Forty years ago he declared it to be his firm +opinion that "the Isthmus of Panama is suited +to the formation of an oceanic canal—one with +fewer sluices than the Caledonian Canal—capable +of affording an unimpeded passage, at all +seasons of the year, to vessels of that class +which sail between New York and Liverpool, +and between Chili and California." In the recent +edition of his "Views of Nature," he "sees +no reason to alter the views he has always entertained +on this subject." Engineers, both +British and American, have confirmed this opinion +by actual survey. As, then, combination +of British skill, capital, and energy, with that +of the most "go-ahead" people upon earth, +have been dormant, whence the secret of the +delay? The answer at once allays astonishment: +Till the present time, the speculation +would not have "paid."</p> + +<p>Large works of this nature, while they create +an inconceivable development of commerce, must +have a certain amount of a trading population to +begin upon. A gold-beater can cover the effigy +of a man on horseback with a sovereign; but he +must have the sovereign first. It was not merely +because the full power of the iron rail to facilitate +the transition of heavy burdens had not +been estimated, and because no Stephenson had +constructed a "Rocket engine," that a railway +with steam locomotives was not made from +London to Liverpool before 1836. Until the +intermediate traffic between these termini had +swelled to a sufficient amount in quantity and +value to bear reimbursement for establishing +such a mode of conveyance, its execution would +have been impossible, even though men had +known how to set about it.</p> + +<p>What has been the condition of the countries +under consideration? In 1839, the entire population +of the tropical American isthmus, in the +states of central America and New Grenada +did not exceed three millions. The number of +the inhabitants of pure European descent did +not exceed one hundred thousand. It was only +among this inconsiderable fraction that any thing +like wealth, intelligence, and enterprise, akin to +that of Europe, was to be found; the rest were +poor and ignorant aboriginals and mixed races, +in a state of scarcely demi-civilization. Throughout +this thinly-peopled and poverty-stricken region, +there was neither law nor government. In +Stephens's "Central America," may be found an +amusing account of a hunt after a government, +by a luckless American diplomatist, who had +been sent to seek for one in central America. +A night wanderer running through bog and +brake after a will-o'-the-wisp, could not have +encountered more perils, or in search of a more +impalpable phantom. In short, there was nobody +to trade with. To the south of the isthmus, +along the Pacific coast of America, there +was only one station to which merchants could +resort with any fair prospect of gain—Valparaiso. +Except Chili, all the Pacific states of +South America were retrograding from a very +imperfect civilization, under a succession of +petty and aimless revolutions. To the north of +the isthmus matters were little, if any thing better. +Mexico had gone backward from the time +of its revolution; and, at the best, its commerce +in the Pacific had been confined to a yearly +ship between Acapulco and the Philippines. +Throughout California and Oregon, with the +exception of a few European and half-breed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span> +members, there were none but savage aboriginal +tribes. The Russian settlements in the far +north had nothing but a paltry trade in furs with +Kamschatka, that barely defrayed its own expenses. +Neither was there any encouragement +to make a short cut to the innumerable islands +of the Pacific. The whole of Polynesia lay +outside of the pale of civilization. In Tahiti, +the Sandwich group, and the northern peninsula +of New Zealand, missionaries had barely sowed +the first seeds of morals and enlightenment. +The limited commerce of China and the Eastern +Archipelago was engrossed by Europe, and +took the route of the Cape of Good Hope, with +the exception of a few annual vessels that traded +from the sea-board states of the North American +Union to Valparaiso and Canton. The wool +of New South Wales was but coming into notice, +and found its way to England alone round +the Cape of Good Hope. An American fleet +of whalers scoured the Pacific, and adventurers +of the same nation carried on a desultory and +inconsiderable traffic in hides with California, in +tortoise-shell and mother of pearl with the Polynesian +Islands.</p> + +<p>What, then, would have been the use of cutting +a canal, through which there would not +have passed five ships in a twelvemonth? But +twenty years have worked a wondrous revolution +in the state and prospects of these regions.</p> + +<p>The traffic of Chili has received a large development, +and the stability of its institutions has +been fairly tried. The resources of Costa Rica, +the population of which is mainly of European +race, is steadily advancing. American citizens +have founded a state in Oregon. The +Sandwich Islands have become for all practical +purposes an American colony. The trade with +China—to which the proposed canal would open +a convenient avenue by a western instead of the +present eastern route—is no longer restricted to +the Canton river, but is open to all nations as +far north as the Yang-tse-Kiang. The navigation +of the Amur has been opened to the +Russians by a treaty, and can not long remain +closed against the English and American settlers +between Mexico and the Russian settlements in +America. Tahiti has become a kind of commercial +emporium. The English settlements in +Australia and New Zealand have opened a direct +trade with the Indian Archipelago and China. +The permanent settlements of intelligent and +enterprising Anglo-Americans and English in +Polynesia, and on the eastern and western shores +of the Pacific, have proved so many <i>dépôts</i> for +the adventurous traders with its innumerable +islands, and for the spermaceti whalers. Then +the last, but greatest addition of all, is California: +a name in the world of commerce and enterprise +to conjure with. There gold is to be had for +fetching. Gold, the main-spring of commercial +activity, the reward of toil—for which men are +ready to risk life, to endure every sort of privation; +sometimes, alas! to sacrifice every virtue; +one most especially, and that is patience. They +will away with her now.</p> + +<p>Till the discovery of the new gold country +how contentedly they dawdled round Cape +Horn; creeping down one coast, and up another: +but now such delay is not to be thought +of. Already, indeed, Panama has become the +seat of a great, increasing, and perennial transit +trade. This can not fail to augment the settled +population of the region, its wealth and intelligence. +Upon these facts we rest the conviction +that the time has arrived for realizing the project +of a ship canal there or in the near neighborhood.</p> + +<p>That a ship canal, and not a railway, is what +is first wanted (for very soon there will be +both), must be obvious to all acquainted with +the practical details of commerce. The delay +and expense to which merchants are subjected, +when obliged to "break bulk" repeatedly between +the port whence they sail and that of +their destination, is extreme. The waste and +spoiling of goods, the cost of the operation, are +also heavy drawbacks, and to these they are +subject by the stormy passage round Cape +Horn.</p> + +<p>Two points present themselves offering great +facilities for the execution of a ship canal. The +one is in the immediate vicinity of Panama, +where the many imperfect observations which +have hitherto been made, are yet sufficient to +leave no doubt that, as the distance is comparatively +short, the summit levels are inconsiderable, +and the supply of water ample. The other is +some distance to the northward. The isthmus +is there broader, but is in part occupied by the +large and deep fresh-water lakes of Nicaragua +and Naragua. The lake of Nicaragua communicates +with the Atlantic by a copious river, +which may either be rendered navigable, or be +made the source of supply for a side canal. The +space between the two lakes is of inconsiderable +extent, and presents no great engineering difficulties. +The elevation of the lake of Naragua +above the Pacific is inconsiderable; there is no +hill range between it and the gulf of Canchagua; +and Captain Sir Edward Belcher carried his surveying +ship <i>Sulphur</i> sixty miles up the Estero +Real, which rises near the lake, and falls into +the gulf. The line of the Panama canal presents, +as Humboldt remarks, facilities equal to +those of the line of the Caledonian canal. The +Nicaragua line is not more difficult than that +of the canal of Languedoc, a work executed +between 1660 and 1682, at a time when the +commerce to be expedited by it did not exceed—it +is equaled—that which will find its way +across the Isthmus; when great part of the +maritime country was as thinly inhabited by as +poor a population as the Isthmus now is; and +when the last subsiding storms of civil war, +and the dragonnades of Louis XIV., unsettled +men's minds, and made person and property insecure.</p> + +<p>The cosmopolitan effects of such an undertaking, +if prosecuted to a successful close, it is +impossible even approximately to estimate. The +acceleration it will communicate to the already +rapid progress of civilization in the Pacific is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span> +obvious. And no less obvious are the beneficial +effects it will have upon the mutual relations of +civilized states, seeing that the recognition of +the independence and neutrality in times of general +war of the canal and the region through +which it passes, is indispensable to its establishment.</p> + +<p>We have dwelt principally on the commercial, +the economical considerations of the enterprise, +for they are what must render it possible. But +the friends of Christian missions, and the advocates +of universal peace among nations, have yet +a deeper interest in it. In the words used by +Prince Albert at the dinner at the Mansion +House respecting the forthcoming great exhibition +of arts and industry, "Nobody who has paid +any attention to the particular features of our +present era, will doubt for a moment that we +are living at a period of most wonderful transition, +which tends rapidly to accomplish that +great end—to which, indeed, all history points—the +realization of the unity of mankind. Not +a unity which breaks down the limits and levels +the peculiar characteristics of the different nations +of the earth, but rather a unity the result +and product of those very national varieties and +antagonistic qualities. The distances which +separated the different nations and parts of the +globe are gradually vanishing before the achievements +of modern invention, and we can traverse +them with incredible speed; the languages of all +nations are known, and their acquirements placed +within the reach of every body; thought is communicated +with the rapidity, and even by the +power of lightning."</p> + +<p>Every short cut across the globe brings man +in closer communion with his distant brotherhood, +and results in concord, prosperity, and +peace.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="smcap">Truth in Pleasure</span>.—Men have been said +to be sincere in their pleasures, but this is only +that the tastes and habits of men are more easily +discernible in pleasure than in business; the +want of truth is as great a hindrance to the +one as to the other. Indeed, there is so much +insincerity and formality in the pleasurable department +of human life, especially in social +pleasures, that instead of a bloom there is a slime +upon it, which deadens and corrupts the thing. +One of the most comical sights to superior beings +must be to see two human creatures with elaborate +speech and gestures making each other +exquisitely uncomfortable from civility; the one +pressing what he is most anxious that the other +should not accept, and the other accepting only +from the fear of giving offense by refusal. +There is an element of charity in all this too; +and it will be the business of a just and refined +nature to be sincere and considerate at the same +time. This will be better done by enlarging +our sympathy, so that more things and people +are pleasant to us, than by increasing the civil +and conventional part of our nature, so that we +are able to do more seeming with greater skill +and endurance.—<i>Friends in Council.</i></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3>[From the Dublin University Magazine.]</h3> + +<h2>THE GERMAN MEISTERSINGERS—HANS SACHS.</h2> + + +<p>We once chanced to meet with a rare old +German book which contains an accurate +history of the foundation of the Meistersingers, +a body which exercised so important an influence +upon the literary history, not only of Germany, +but of the whole European Continent, that the +circumstances connected with its origin can not +prove uninteresting to our readers.</p> + +<p>The burghers of the provincial towns in Germany +had gradually formed themselves into +guilds or corporations, the members of which, +when the business of the day was discussed, +would amuse themselves by reading some of the +ancient traditions of their own country, as related +in the old Nordic poems. This stock of literature +was soon exhausted, and the worthy burghers +began to try their hands at original composition. +From these rude snatches of song sprung to life +the fire of poetic genius, and at Mentz was first +established that celebrated guild, branches of +which soon after extended themselves to most +of the provincial towns. The fame of these +social meetings soon became widely spread. It +reached the ears of the emperor, Otho I., and, +about the middle of the ninth century, the guild +received a royal summons to attend at Pavia, +then the emperor's residence. The history of +this famous meeting remained for upward of six +hundred years upon record among the archives +of Mentz, but is supposed to have been taken +away, among other plunder, about the period of +the Smalkaldic war. From other sources of information +we can, however, gratify the curiosity +of the antiquarian, by giving the names of the +twelve original members of this guild:</p> + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="1" cellspacing="0" width="90%" summary=""> +<tr><td colspan="2" align="left">Walter, Lord of Vogelweid,</td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="2" align="left">Wolfgang Eschenbach, Knight,</td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="2" align="left">Conrad Mesmer, Knight,</td></tr> +<tr><td class="col1" align="left">Franenlob of Mentz,<br />Mergliny of Ment,</td><td align="left"><span style='font-size:200%;font-weight:lighter;margin:0;line-height:1em;text-indent:0;'> } </span>Theologian,</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Klingsher,</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Starke Papp,</td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="2" align="left">Bartholomew Regenboger, a blacksmith,</td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="2" align="left">The Chancellor, a fisherman,</td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="2" align="left">Conrad of Wurtzburg,</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Stall Seniors,</td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="2" align="left">The Roman of Zgwickau.</td></tr> +</table></div> + +<p>These gentlemen, having attended the royal +summons in due form, were subjected to a severe +public examination before the court by the wisest +men of their times, and were pronounced masters +of their art; enthusiastic encomiums were lavished +upon them by the delighted audience, and they +departed, having received from the emperor's +hands a crown of pure gold, to be presented +annually to him who should be selected by the +voice of his fellows as laureate for the year.</p> + +<p>Admission to these guilds became, in process +of time, the highest literary distinction; it was +eagerly sought for by numberless aspirants, but<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span> +the ordeal through which the candidate had to +pass became so difficult that very few were +found qualified for the honor. The compositions +of the candidates were measured with a degree +of critical accuracy of which candidates for +literary fame in these days can form but little +idea. The ordeal must have been more damping +to the fire of young genius than the most +slashing article ever penned by the most caustic +reviewer. Every composition had of necessity +to belong to a certain class; each class was +distinguished by a limited amount of rhymes +and syllables, and the candidate had to count +each stanza, as he read it, upon his fingers. +The redundancy or the deficiency of a single +syllable was fatal to his claims, and was visited +in addition by a pecuniary fine, which went to +the support of the corporation.</p> + +<p>Of that branch of this learned body which held +its meetings at Nuremberg, Hans Sachs became, +in due time, a distinguished member. His origin +was obscure—the son of a tailor, and a shoemaker +by trade. The occupations of his early +life afforded but little scope for the cultivation +of those refined pursuits which afterward made +him remarkable. The years of his boyhood +were spent in the industrious pursuit of his +lowly calling; but when he had arrived at the +age of eighteen, a famous minstrel, Numenbach +by name, chancing to pass his dwelling, the +young cobbler was attracted by his dulcet strains, +and followed him. Numenbach gave him gratuitous +instruction in his tuneful art, and Hans +Sachs forthwith entered upon the course of +probationary wandering, which was an essential +qualification for his degree. The principal towns +of Germany by turns received the itinerant minstrel, +who supported himself by the alternate +manufacture of verses and of shoes. After a +protracted pilgrimage of several years, he returned +to Nuremberg, his native city, where, +having taken unto himself a wife, he spent the +remainder of his existence; not unprofitably, +indeed, as his voluminous works still extant can +testify. We had once the pleasure of seeing an +edition of them in the library at Nuremberg, +containing two hundred and twelve pieces of +poetry, one hundred and sixteen sacred allegories, +and one hundred and ninety-seven dramas—a +fertility of production truly wonderful, and almost +incredible, if we reflect that the author had to +support a numerous family by the exercise of his +lowly trade.</p> + +<p>The writings of this humble artisan proved an +era, however, in the literary history of Germany. +To him may be ascribed the honor of being the +founder of her school of tragedy as well as comedy; +and the illustrious Goethe has, upon more +than one occasion, in his works, expressed how +deeply he is indebted to this poet of the people +for the outline of his immortal tragedy of "Faust." +Indeed, if we recollect aright, there are in his +works several pieces which he states are after +the manner of Hans Sachs.</p> + +<p>The Lord of Vogelweid, whose name we find +occupying so conspicuous a position in the roll +of the original Meistersingers, made rather a +curious will—a circumstance which we find +charmingly narrated in the following exquisite +ballad:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"WALTER VON DER VOGELWEID."<br /></span> +</div><br /><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Vogelweid, the Minnesinger,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">When he left this world of ours,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Laid his body in the cloister,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Under Wurtzburg's minster towers.<br /></span> +</div><br /><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And he gave the monks his treasure,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Gave them all with this bequest—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They should feed the birds at noontide,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Daily, on his place of rest.<br /></span> +</div><br /><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Saying, 'From these wandering minstrels<br /></span> +<span class="i1">I have learned the art of song;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let me now repay the lessons<br /></span> +<span class="i1">They have taught so well and long.<br /></span> +</div><br /><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Thus the bard of lore departed,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And, fulfilling his desire,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On his tomb the birds were feasted,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">By the children of the choir.<br /></span> +</div><br /><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Day by day, o'er tower and turret,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In foul weather and in fair—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Day by day, in vaster numbers,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Flocked the poets of the air.<br /></span> +</div><br /><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"On the tree whose heavy branches<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Overshadowed all the place—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On the pavement; on the tomb-stone,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">On the poet's sculptured face:<br /></span> +</div><br /><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"There they sang their merry carols,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sang their lauds on every side;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the name their voices uttered,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Was the name of Vogelweid.<br /></span> +</div><br /><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"'Till at length the portly abbot<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Murmured, 'Why this waste of food,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Be it changed to loaves henceforward.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">For our fasting brotherhood.'<br /></span> +</div><br /><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Then in vain o'er tower and turret,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">From the walls and woodland nests.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When the minster bell rang noontide,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Gathered the unwelcome guests.<br /></span> +</div><br /><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Then in vain, with cries discordant,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Clamorous round the gothic spire.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Screamed the feathered Minnesingers<br /></span> +<span class="i1">For the children of the choir.<br /></span> +</div><br /><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Time has long effaced the inscription<br /></span> +<span class="i1">On the cloister's funeral stones;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And tradition only tells us<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Where repose the poet's bones.<br /></span> +</div><br /><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But around the vast cathedral,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">By sweet echoes multiplied,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still the birds repeat the legend,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And the name of Vogelweid."<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="smcap">Education</span>.—The striving of modern fashionable +education is to make the character impressive; +while the result of good education, though +not the aim, would be to make it expressive.</p> + +<p>There is a tendency in modern education to +cover the fingers with rings, and at the same +time to cut the sinews at the wrist.</p> + +<p>The worst education, which teaches self +denial, is better than the best which teaches +every thing else, and not that.—<i>Tales and +Essays by John Sterling.</i><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3>[From Household Words.]</h3> + +<h2>GHOST STORIES—AN INCIDENT IN THE LIFE OF MAD<sup>LLE</sup> CLAIRON.</h2> + + +<p>The occurrence related in the letter which +we are about to quote, is a remarkable instance +of those apparently supernatural visitations +which it has been found so difficult (if not +impossible) to explain and account for. It does +not appear to have been known to Scott, Brewster, +or any other English writer who has collected +and endeavored to expound those ghostly +phenomena.</p> + +<p>Clairon was the greatest tragedian that ever +appeared on the French stage; holding on it a +supremacy similar to that of Siddons on our own. +She was a woman of powerful intellect, and had +the merit of affecting a complete revolution in +the French school of tragic acting; substituted +an easy, varied and natural delivery for the stilted +and monotonous declamation which had till +then prevailed, and being the first to consult +classic taste and propriety of costume. Her +mind was cultivated by habits of intimacy with +the most distinguished men of her day; and she +was one of the most brilliant ornaments of those +literary circles which the contemporary memoir +writers describe in such glowing colors. In an +age of corruption, unparalleled in modern times, +Mademoiselle Clairon was not proof against the +temptations to which her position exposed her. +But a lofty spirit, and some religious principles, +which she retained amidst a generation of infidels +and scoffers, saved her from degrading vices, +and enabled her to spend an old age protracted +beyond the usual period of human life, in respectability +and honor.</p> + +<p>She died in 1803, at the age of eighty. She +was nearly seventy when the following letter +was written. It was addressed to M. Henri +Meister, a man of some eminence among the +literati of that period; the associate of Diderot, +Grimm, D'Holbach, M. and Madame Necker, +&c., and the <i>collaborateur</i> of Grimm in his famous +"Correspondence." This gentleman was Clairon's +"literary executor;" having been intrusted +with her memoirs, written by herself, and published +after her death.</p> + +<p>With this preface we give Mademoiselle +Clairon's narrative, written in her old age, of +an occurrence which had taken place half a century +before.</p> + +<blockquote><p>"In 1743, my youth, and my success on the +stage, had drawn round me a good many admirers. +M. de S——, the son of a merchant +in Brittany, about thirty years old, handsome, +and possessed of considerable talent, was one of +those who were most strongly attached to me. +His conversation and manners were those of a +man of education and good society, and the reserve +and timidity which distinguished his attention +made a favorable impression on me. After +a green-room acquaintance of some time I permitted +him to visit me at my house, but a better +knowledge of his situation and character was +not to his advantage. Ashamed of being only +a <i>bourgeois</i>, he was squandering his fortune at +Paris under an assumed title. His temper was +severe and gloomy: he knew mankind too well, +he said, not to despise and avoid them. He +wished to see no one but me, and desired from +me, in return, a similar sacrifice of the world. +I saw, from this time, the necessity, for his own +sake as well as mine, of destroying his hopes by +reducing our intercourse to terms of less intimacy. +My behavior brought upon him a violent +illness, during which I showed him every mark +of friendly interest, but firmly refused to deviate +from the course I had adopted. My steadiness +only deepened his wound; and unhappily, at this +time, a treacherous relative, to whom he had intrusted +the management of his affairs, took advantage +of his helpless condition by robbing him, +and leaving him so destitute that he was obliged +to accept the little money I had, for his subsistence, +and the attendance which his condition +required. You must feel, my dear friend, the +importance of never revealing this secret. I +respect his memory, and I would not expose him +to the insulting pity of the world. Preserve, then, +the religious silence which after many years I +now break for the first time.</p> + +<p>"At length he recovered his property, but +never his health; and thinking I was doing him +a service by keeping him at a distance from me, +I constantly refused to receive either his letters +or his visits.</p> + +<p>"Two years and a half elapsed between this +period and that of his death. He sent to beg +me to see him once more in his last moments, +but I thought it necessary not to comply with +his wish. He died, having with him only his +domestics, and an old lady, his sole companion +for a long time. He lodged at that time on the +Rempart, near the Chaussée d'Antin; I resided +in the Rue de Bussy, near the Abbaye St. Germain. +My mother lived with me; and that +night we had a little party to supper. We were +very gay, and I was singing a lively air, when +the clock struck eleven, and the sound was succeeded +by a long and piercing cry of unearthly +horror. The company looked aghast; I fainted, +and remained for a quarter of an hour totally +insensible. We then began to reason about the +nature of so frightful a sound, and it was agreed +to set a watch in the street in case it were +repeated.</p> + +<p>"It was repeated very often. All our servants, +my friends, my neighbors, even the police, heard +the same cry, always at the same hour, always +proceeding from under my windows, and appearing +to come from the empty air. I could not +doubt that it was meant entirely for me. I rarely +supped abroad; but the nights I did so, nothing +was heard; and several times, when I came +home, and was asking my mother and servants +if they had heard any thing, it suddenly burst +forth, as if in the midst of us. One night, the +President de B——, at whose house I had supped, +desired to see me safe home. While he +was bidding me 'good night' at my door, the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span> +cry broke out seemingly from something between +him and me. He, like all Paris, was +aware of the story; but he was so horrified, that +his servants lifted him into his carriage more +dead than alive.</p> + +<p>"Another time, I asked my comrade Rosely +to accompany me to the Rue St. Honoré to +choose some stuffs, and then to pay a visit to +Mademoiselle de St. P——, who lived near the +Porte Saint-Denis. My ghost story (as it was +called) was the subject of our whole conversation. +This intelligent young man was struck +by my adventure, though he did not believe there +was any thing supernatural in it. He pressed +me to evoke the phantom, promising to believe +if it answered my call. With weak audacity I +complied, and suddenly the cry was heard three +times with fearful loudness and rapidity. When +we arrived at our friend's door both of us were +found senseless in the carriage.</p> + +<p>"After this scene, I remained for some months +without hearing any thing. I thought it was all +over; but I was mistaken.</p> + +<p>"All the public performances had been transferred +to Versailles on account of the marriage +of the Dauphin. We were to pass three days +there, but sufficient lodgings were not provided +for us. Madame Grandval had no apartment; +and I offered to share with her the room with +two beds which had been assigned to me in the +avenue of St. Cloud. I gave her one of the beds +and took the other. While my maid was undressing +to lie down beside me, I said to her, +'We are at the world's end here, and it is dreadful +weather; the cry would be somewhat puzzled +to get at us.' In a moment it rang through the +room. Madame Grandval ran in her night-dress +from top to bottom of the house, in which nobody +closed an eye for the rest of the night. This, +however, was the last time the cry was heard.</p> + +<p>"Seven or eight days afterward, while I was +chatting with my usual evening circle, the sound +of the clock striking eleven was followed by the +report of a gun fired at one of the windows. We +all heard the noise, we all saw the fire, yet the +window was undamaged. We concluded that +some one sought my life, and that it was necessary +to take precautions again another attempt. +The Intendant des Menus Plaisirs, who was present, +flew to the house of his friend, M. de Marville, +the Lieutenant of Police. The houses +opposite mine were instantly searched, and for +several days were guarded from top to bottom. +My house was closely examined; the street was +filled with spies in all possible disguises. But, +notwithstanding all this vigilance, the same explosion +was heard and seen for three whole +months always at the same hour, and at the +same window-pane, without any one being able +to discover from whence it proceeded. This fact +stands recorded in the registers of the police.</p> + +<p>"Nothing was heard for some days; but having +been invited by Mademoiselle Dumesnil<a name="FNanchor_2_2" id="FNanchor_2_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> to +join a little evening party at her house near the +<i>Barrière blanche</i>, I got into a hackney-coach at +eleven o'clock with my maid. It was clear moonlight +as we passed along the Boulevards, which +were then beginning to be studded with houses. +While we were looking at the half-finished buildings, +my maid said, 'Was it not in this neighborhood +that M. de S—— died?' 'From what +I have heard,' I answered, 'I think it should +be there'—pointing with my finger to a house +before us. From that house came the same gun-shot +that I had heard before. It seemed to +traverse our carriage, and the coachman set off at +full speed, thinking we were attacked by robbers. +We arrived at Mademoiselle Dumesnil's in a +state of the utmost terror; a feeling I did not +get rid of for a long time."</p> + +<p>[Mademoiselle Clairon gives some further +details similar to the above, and adds that the +noises finally ceased in about two years and a +half. After this, intending to change her residence, +she put up a bill on the house she was +leaving; and many people made the pretext of +looking at the apartments an excuse for gratifying +their curiosity to see, in her every-day guise, +the great tragedian of the Théâtre Français.]</p> + +<p>"One day I was told that an old lady desired +to see my rooms. Having always had a great +respect for the aged, I went down to receive +her. An unaccountable emotion seized me on +seeing her, and I perceived that she was moved +in a similar manner. I begged her to sit down, +and we were both silent for some time. At +length she spoke, and, after some preparation, +came to the subject of her visit.</p> + +<p>"'I was, mademoiselle, the best friend of M. +de S——, and the only friend whom he would +see during the last year of his life. We spoke +of you incessantly; I urging him to forget you,—he +protesting that he would love you beyond +the tomb. Your eyes which are full of tears +allow me to ask you why you made him so +wretched; and how, with such a mind and such +feelings as yours, you could refuse him the consolation +of once more seeing and speaking to you?'</p> + +<p>"'We can not,' I answered, 'command our +sentiments. M. de S—— had merit and estimable +qualities; but his gloomy, bitter, and overbearing +temper made me equally afraid of his +company, his friendship, and his love. To make +him happy, I must have renounced all intercourse +with society, and even the exercise of +my talents. I was poor and proud; I desire, +and hope I shall ever desire, to owe nothing to +any one but myself. My friendship for him +prompted me to use every endeavor to lead him +to more just and reasonable sentiments: failing +in this, and persuaded that his obstinacy proceeded +less from the excess of his passion than +from the violence of his character, I took the firm +resolution to separate from him entirely. I refused +to see him in his last moments, because the +sight would have rent my heart; because I feared +to appear too barbarous if I remained inflexible, +and to make myself wretched if I yielded. Such, +madame, are the motives of my conduct—motives +for which, I think, no one can blame me.'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span></p> + +<p>"'It would indeed,' said the lady, 'be unjust +to condemn you. My poor friend himself +in his reasonable moments acknowledged all that +he owed you. But his passion and his malady +overcame him, and your refusal to see him +hastened his last moments. He was counting +the minutes, when at half-past ten, his servant +came to tell him that decidedly you would not +come. After a moment's silence, he took me by +the hand with a frightful expression of despair. +Barbarous woman! he cried; but she will gain +nothing by her cruelty. As I have followed her +in life, I shall follow her in death! I endeavored +to calm him; he was dead.'</p> + +<p>"I need scarcely tell you, my dear friend, +what effect these last words had upon me. +Their analogy to all my apparitions filled me +with terror, but time and reflection calmed my +feelings. The consideration that I was neither +the better nor the worse for all that had happened +to me, has led me to ascribe it all to +chance. I do not, indeed, know what <i>chance</i> is; +but it can not be denied that the something which +goes by that name has a great influence on all +that passes in the world.</p> + +<p>"Such is my story; do with it what you will. +If you intend to make it public, I beg you to +suppress the initial letter of the name, and the +name of the province."</p></blockquote> + +<p>This last injunction was not, as we see, strictly +complied with; but, at the distance of half a +century, the suppression of a name was probably +of little consequence.</p> + +<p>There is no reason to doubt the entire truth +of Mademoiselle Clairon's narrative. The incidents +which she relates made such a deep and +enduring impression on her mind, that it remained +uneffaced during the whole course of her +brilliant career, and, almost at the close of a +long life spent in the bustle and business of the +world, inspired her with solemn and religious +thoughts. Those incidents can scarcely be +ascribed to delusions of her imagination; for she +had a strong and cultivated mind, not likely to +be influenced by superstitious credulity; and besides, +the mysterious sounds were heard by others +as well as herself, and had become the subject +of general conversation in Paris. The suspicion +of a trick or conspiracy never seems to have occurred +to her, though such a supposition is the +only way in which the circumstances can be explained; +and we are convinced that this explanation, +though not quite satisfactory in every +particular, is the real one. Several portentous +occurrences, equally or more marvelous, have +thus been accounted for.</p> + +<p>Our readers remember the history of the Commissioners +of the Roundhead Parliament for the +sequestration of the royal domains, who were +terrified to death, and at last fairly driven out of +the Palace of Woodstock, by a series of diabolical +sounds and sights, which were long afterward +discovered to be the work of one of their +own servants, Joe Tomkins by name, a loyalist +in the disguise of a puritan. The famous "Cocklane +Ghost," which kept the town in agitation for +months, and baffled the penetration of multitudes +of the divines, philosophers, and literati of the +day, was a young girl of some eleven or twelve +years old, whose mysterious knockings were +produced by such simple means, that their remaining +so long undetected is the most marvelous +part of the story. This child was the agent +of a conspiracy formed by her father, with some +confederates, to ruin the reputation of a gentleman +by means of pretended revelations from +the dead. For this conspiracy these persons +were tried, and the father, the most guilty party, +underwent the punishment of the pillory.</p> + +<p>A more recent story is that of the "Stockwell +Ghost," which forms the subject of a volume published +in 1772, and is shortly told by Mr. Hone +in the first volume of his "Every Day Book." +Mrs. Golding, an elderly lady residing at Stockwell, +in Surrey, had her house disturbed by portents, +which not only terrified her and her family, +but spread alarm through the vicinity. Strange +noises were heard proceeding from empty parts +of the house, and heavy articles of furniture, glass, +and earthenware, were thrown down and broken +in pieces before the eyes of the family and neighbors. +Mrs. Golding, driven by terror from her +own dwelling, took refuge, first in one neighboring +house, and then in another, and thither the +prodigies followed her. It was observed that +her maid-servant, Ann Robinson, was always +present when these things took place, either in +Mrs. Golding's own house, or in those of the +neighbors. This girl, who had lived only about +a week with her mistress, became the subject of +mistrust and was dismissed, after which the disturbances +entirely ceased. But the matter rested +on mere suspicion. "Scarcely any one," says +Mr. Hone, "who lived at that time listened +patiently to the presumption, or without attributing +the whole to witchcraft." At length Mr. +Hone himself obtained a solution of the mystery +from a gentleman who had become acquainted +with Ann Robinson many years after the affair +happened, and to whom she had confessed that +she alone had produced all these supernatural +horrors, by fixing wires or horse-hairs to different +articles, according as they were heavy or +light, and thus throwing them down, with other +devices equally simple, which the terror and confusion +of the spectators prevented them from detecting. +The girl began these tricks to forward +some love affair, and continued them for amusement +when she saw the effect they produced.</p> + +<p>Remembering these cases, we can have little +doubt that Mademoiselle Clairon's maid was the +author of the noises which threw her mistress +and her friends into such consternation. Her +own house was generally the place where these +things happened; and on the most remarkable +occasions where they happened elsewhere, is +expressly mentioned that the maid was present. +At St. Cloud it was to the maid, who was her +bed-fellow, that Clairon was congratulating herself +on being out of the way of the cry, when it +suddenly was heard in the very room. She had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span> +her maid in the carriage with her on the Boulevards, +and it was immediately after the girl had +asked her a question about the death of M. de +S—— that the gun-shot was heard, which seemed +to traverse the carriage. Had the maid a +confederate—perhaps her fellow-servant on the +box—to whom she might have given the signal? +When Mademoiselle Clairon went a-shopping to +the Rue St. Honoré, she probably had her maid +with her, either in or outside the carriage; and, +indeed, in every instance the noises took place +when the maid would most probably have been +present, or close at hand. In regard to the unearthly +cry, she might easily have produced it +herself without any great skill in ventriloquism, +or the art of imitating sounds; a supposition +which is rendered the more probable, as its realization +was rendered the more easy, by the fact +of no words having been uttered—merely a wild +cry. Most of the common itinerant ventriloquists +on our public race-courses can utter speeches for +an imaginary person without any perceptible +motion of the lips; the utterance of a mere +sound in this way would be infinitely less difficult.</p> + +<p>The noises resembling the report of fire-arms +(very likely to have been unconsciously, and in +perfect good faith, exaggerated by the terror of +the hearers) may have been produced by a confederate +fellow-servant, or a lover. It is to be +observed, that the first time this seeming report +was heard, the houses opposite were guarded by +the police, and spies were placed in the street, +but Mademoiselle Clairon's own house was merely +"examined." It is evident that these precautions, +however effectual against a plot conducted +from without, could have no effect whatever +against tricks played within her house by one +or more of her own servants.</p> + +<p>As to the maid-servant's motives for engaging +in this series of deceptions, many may have existed +and been sufficiently strong; the lightest, +which we shall state last, would probably be the +strongest. She may have been in communication +with M. de S——'s relations for some hidden +purpose which never was effected. How far this +circumstance may be connected with the date of +the first portent, the very night of the young +man's death, or whether that coincidence was +simply accidental, is matter for conjecture. +The old lady, his relative, who afterward visited +Clairon, and told her a tale calculated to fill +her with superstitious dread, <i>may</i> herself have +been the maid-servant's employer for some similar +purpose; or (which is at least equally probable) +the tale may have had nothing whatever to +do with the sound, and may have been perfectly +true. But all experience in such cases assures +us that the love of mischief, or the love of power, +and the desire of being important, would be +sufficient motives to the maid for such a deception. +The more frightened Clairon was, the +more necessary and valuable her maid became +to her, naturally. A thousand instances of long +continued deception on the part of young women, +begun in mere folly, and continued for the reasons +just mentioned, though continued at an immense +cost of trouble, resolution, and self-denial +in all other respects, are familiar to most readers +of strange transactions, medical and otherwise. +There seem to be strong grounds for the conclusion +that the maid was the principal, if not +the sole agent in this otherwise supernatural part +of this remarkable story.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>THE REV. WILLIAM LISLE BOWLES.</h2> + + +<p>We must not allow a poet of the tender and +manly feeling of Mr. Bowles to pass away +from among us with a mere notice of his death +amid the common gossip of the week. The +peculiar excellence of his Sonnets and his influence +on English poetry deserve a further notice +at our hands.</p> + +<p>The Rev. William Lisle Bowles, of an ancient +family in the county of Wilts, was born in the +village of King's Sutton, in Northamptonshire—a +parish of which his father was vicar—on the +24th of September, 1762. His mother was the +daughter of Dr. Richard Gray, chaplain to +Nathaniel Crew, bishop of Durham. He was +educated at Winchester School, under Dr. Joseph +Warton, and rose to be the senior boy. Warton +took much notice of him; and, on his removal +to Oxford, in 1782, was the means, we have +heard, of inducing him to enter at Trinity College, +of which Tom Warton was then the senior +Fellow. "Among my contemporaries at Trinity," +he says, "were several young men of talents and +literature—Headley, Kett, Benwell, Dallaway, +Richards, Dornford." Of these Headley is still +remembered by some beautiful pieces of poetry, +distinguished for imagery, pathos, and simplicity.</p> + +<p>Mr. Bowles became a poet in print in his +twenty-seventh year—publishing in 1789 a very +small volume in quarto, with the very modest +title of "Fourteen Sonnets." His excellencies +were not lost on the public; and in the same +year appeared a second edition, with seven additional +sonnets. "I had just entered on my +seventeenth year," says Coleridge, in his "Biographia +Literaria," "when the Sonnets of Mr. +Bowles, twenty-one in number, and just then +published in a quarto pamphlet, were first made +known and presented to me by a schoolfellow +[at Christ's Hospital] who had quitted us for +the University. As my school finances did not +permit me to purchase copies, I made, within +less than a year and a half, more than forty +transcriptions—as the best presents I could offer +to those who had in any way won my regard. +And with almost equal delight did I receive the +three or four following publications of the same +author." Coleridge was always consistent in +his admiration of Mr. Bowles. Charlotte Smith +and Bowles, he says—writing in 1797—are they +who first made the sonnet popular among the +present generation of English readers; and in +the same year in which this encomium was +printed, his own volume of poetry contains +"Sonnets attempted in the manner of Mr. +Bowles." "My obligations to Mr. Bowles,"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span> +he adds in another place, "were indeed important, +and for radical good;" and that his +approbation might not be confined to prose, he +has said in verse:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"My heart has thanked thee, Bowles, for those soft strains<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose sadness soothes me, like the murmuring<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of wild bees in the sunny showers of spring."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Mr. Bowles's sonnets were descriptive of his +personal feelings; and the manly tenderness +which pervades them was occasioned, he tells +us, by the sudden death of a deserving young +woman with whom</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Sperabat longos, heu! ducere soles,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Et fido acclinis consenuisse sinu."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>An eighth edition appeared in 1802; and a +ninth and a tenth have since been demanded.</p> + +<p>While at Trinity—where he took his degree +in 1792—Mr. Bowles obtained the Chancellor's +prize for a Latin poem. On leaving the University +he entered into holy orders, and was appointed +to a curacy in Wiltshire; from which he +was preferred to a living in Gloucestershire—and +in 1803 to a canonry in Salisbury Cathedral. +His next step was to the rectory of Bremhill in +Wiltshire—to which he was presented by Archbishop +Moore. Here he remained till his death—beloved +by his parishioners and by all who +had the pleasure of his acquaintance. A volume +of his sermons ("Paulus Parochialis"), designed +for country congregations, was published +in 1826.</p> + +<p>The Sonnets were followed, at an Horatian +interval, by other poems hardly of an inferior +quality: such, for instance, as his "Hope, an +Allegorical Sketch"—"St. Michael's Mount"—"Coombe +Ellen"—and "Grave of Howard." +His "Spirit of Discovery by Sea," the longest +of his productions, was published in 1804, and +is now chiefly remembered by the unhappy +notoriety which Lord Byron obtained for it by +asserting in his "English Bards" that the poet +had made the woods of Madeira tremble to a +kiss. Lord Byron subsequently acknowledged +that he had mistaken Mr. Bowles's meaning: +too late, however, to remove the injurious impression +which his hasty reading had occasioned. +Generally, Mr. Bowles's more ambitious works +may be ranked as superior to the poems of Crowe +and Carrington—both of which in their day commanded +a certain reputation—and as higher in +academical elegance than the verse of Mr. James +Montgomery; while they have neither the nerve +and occasional nobility of Cowper, nor that intimate +mixture of fancy, feeling, lofty contemplations, +and simple themes and images which +have placed Wordsworth at the head of a school.</p> + +<p>The school of the Wartons was not the school +of Pope; and the comparatively low appreciation +of the great poetical satirist, which Mr. Bowles +entertained and asserted in print, was no doubt +imbibed at Winchester under Joseph Warton, and +strengthened at Oxford under Tom. Mr. Bowles's +edition of Pope is a very poor performance. He +had little diligence, and few indeed of the requirements +of an editor. He undertook to traduce +the moral character of Pope; and the line in +which Lord Byron refers to him on that account</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"To do for hate what Mallet did for hire"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>will long be remembered to his prejudice. His +so-called "invariable principles of poetry" maintained +in his Pope and in his controversy with +Byron and Campbell, are better based than critics +hitherto have been willing to admit. Considering +how sharply the reverend Pamphleteer was +hit by the Peer's ridicule, it must be always remembered, +to the credit of his Christianity, that +possibly the most popular of all the dirges written +on Lord Byron's death came from Mr. Bowles's +pen; and the following tributary stanza is deepened +in its music by the memory of the former war.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"I will not ask sad Pity to deplore<br /></span> +<span class="i2">His wayward errors who thus sadly died,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Still less, <span class="smcap">Childe Harold</span>, now thou art no more,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Will I say aught of Genius misapplied;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of the past shadows of thy spleen or pride:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But I will bid th' Arcadian cypress wave,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Pluck the green laurel from the Perseus's side,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And pray thy spirit may such quiet have<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That not one thought unkind be murmured o'er thy grave."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>It only remains for us to add, that Mr. Bowles +wrote a somewhat poor life of Bishop Ken—that +he was famous for his Parson Adams-like forgetfulness—that +his wife died in 1844, at the age +of 72—and that he himself at the time of his +death was in his eighty-eighth year.—<i>London +Athenæum.</i></p> + + +<p><a name="Page_87a" id="Page_87a"></a></p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>MORNING IN SPRING.</h2> + +<h3>(<span class="smcap">from the german of gustav solling</span>.)</h3> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">From the valleys to the hills<br /></span> +<span class="i1">See the morning mists arise;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the early dew distills<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Balmy incense to the skies.<br /></span> +</div><br /><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Purple clouds, with vapory grace,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Round the sun their soft sail fling;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now they fade—and from his face<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Beams the new-born bliss of Spring!<br /></span> +</div><br /><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">From the cool grass glitter bright<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Myriad drops of diamond dew;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bending 'neath their pressure light,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Waves the green corn, springing new<br /></span> +</div><br /><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Nought but the fragrant wind is heard,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Whispering softly through the trees,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or, lightly perched, the early bird<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Chirping to the morning breeze<br /></span> +</div><br /><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Dewy May-flowers to the sun<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ope their buds of varied hue.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fragrant shades—his beams to shun—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hide the violet's heavenly blue<br /></span> +</div><br /><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A joyous sense of life revived<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Streams through every limb and vein:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I thank thee, Lord! that I have lived<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To see the bright young Spring again!<br /></span> +<span class="i16"><span class="smcap">Eta.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3>[From Household Words.]</h3> + +<h2>WORK! AN ANECDOTE.</h2> + + +<p>A calvary officer of large fortune, who +had distinguished himself in several actions, +having been quartered for a long time in a foreign +city, gradually fell into a life of extreme and incessant +dissipation. He soon found himself so +indisposed to any active military service, that +even the ordinary routine became irksome and +unbearable. He accordingly solicited and obtained +leave of absence from his regiment for six +months. But, instead of immediately engaging +in some occupation of mind and body, as a +curative process for his morbid condition, he +hastened to London, and gave himself up entirely +to greater luxuries than ever, and plunged into +every kind of sensuality. The consequence was +a disgust of life and all its healthy offices. He +became unable to read half a page of a book, or +to write the shortest note; mounting his horse +was too much trouble; to lounge down the street +was a hateful effort. His appetite failed, or every +thing disagreed with him; and he could seldom +sleep. Existence became an intolerable burden; +he therefore determined on suicide.</p> + +<p>With this intention he loaded his pistols, and, +influenced by early associations, dressed himself +in his regimental frock-coat and crimson sash, +and entered St. James's Park a little before +sunrise. He felt as if he was mounting guard +for the last time; listened to each sound, and +looked with miserable affection across the misty +green toward the Horse Guards, faintly seen in +the distance.</p> + +<p>A few minutes after the officer had entered +the park, there passed through the same gate a +poor mechanic, who leisurely followed in the same +direction. He was a gaunt, half-famished looking +man, and walked with a sad air, his eyes +bent thoughtfully on the ground, and his large +bony hands dangling at his sides.</p> + +<p>The officer, absorbed in the act he meditated, +walked on without being aware of the presence +of another person. Arriving about the middle +of a wide open space, he suddenly stopped, and +drawing forth both pistols, exclaimed, "Oh, +most unfortunate and most wretched man that +I am! Wealth, station, honor, prospects, are +of no avail! Existence has become a heavy +torment to me! I have not strength—I have +not courage to endure or face it a moment +longer!"</p> + +<p>With these words he cocked the pistols, and +was raising both of them to his head, when his +arms were seized from behind, and the pistols +twisted out of his fingers. He reeled round, +and beheld the gaunt scarecrow of a man who +had followed him.</p> + +<p>"What are you?" stammered the officer, with +a painful air; "How dare you to step between +me and death?"</p> + +<p>"I am a poor, hungry mechanic;" answered +the man, "one who works from fourteen to sixteen +hours a day, and yet finds it hard to earn a +living. My wife is dead—my daughter was +tempted away from me—and I am a lone man. +As I have nobody to live for, and have become +quite tired of my life, I came out this morning, +intending to drown myself. But as the fresh +air of the park came over my face, the sickness +of life gave way to shame at my own want of +strength and courage, and I determined to walk +onward and live my allotted time. But what +are <i>you</i>? Have you encountered cannon-balls +and death in all shapes, and now want the +strength and courage to meet the curse of idleness?"</p> + +<p>The officer was moving off with some confused +words, but the mechanic took him by the arm, +and threatening to hand him over to the police +if he resisted, led him droopingly away.</p> + +<p>This mechanic's work was that of a turner, +and he lived in a dark cellar, where he toiled at +his lathe from morning to night. Hearing that +the officer had amused himself with a little +turnery in his youth, the poor artisan proposed +to take him down into his work-shop. The +officer offered him money; and was anxious to +escape; but the mechanic refused it, and persisted.</p> + +<p>He accordingly took the morbid gentleman +down into his dark cellar, and set him to work +at his lathe. The officer began very languidly, +and soon rose to depart. Whereupon, the +mechanic forced him down again on the hard +bench, and swore that if he did not do an hour's +work for him, in return for saving his life, he +would instantly consign him to a policeman, and +denounce him for attempting to commit suicide. +At this threat the officer was so confounded, that +he at once consented to do the work.</p> + +<p>When the hour was over, the mechanic insisted +on a second hour, in consequence of the slowness +of the work—it had not been a fair hour's labor. +In vain the officer protested, was angry, and exhausted—had +the heartburn—pains in his back +and limbs—and declared it would kill him. The +mechanic was inexorable. "If it <i>does</i> kill you," +said he, "then you will only be where you would +have been if I had not stopped you." So the +officer was compelled to continue his work with +an inflamed face, and the perspiration pouring +down over his cheeks and chin.</p> + +<p>At last he could proceed no longer, come what +would of it, and sank back in the arms of his persecuting +preserver. The mechanic now placed +before him his own breakfast, composed of a two-penny +loaf of brown bread, and a pint of small +beer; the whole of which the officer disposed of +in no time, and then sent out for more.</p> + +<p>Before the boy who was dispatched on this +errand returned, a little conversation had ensued; +and as the officer rose to go, he smilingly placed +his purse, with his card, in the hands of the +mechanic. The poor, ragged man received +them with all the composure of a physician, and +with a sort of dry, grim humor which appeared +peculiar to him, and the only relief of his other +wise rough and rigid character, made sombre +by the constant shadows and troubles of life.</p> + +<p>But the moment he read the name on the card<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span> +all the hard lines in his deeply-marked face underwent +a sudden contortion. Thrusting back +the purse and card into the officer's hand, he +seized him with a fierce grip by one arm—hurried +him, wondering, up the dark broken +stairs, along the narrow passage—then pushed +him out at the door!</p> + +<p>"You are the fine gentleman who tempted my +daughter away!" said he.</p> + +<p>"I—<i>your</i> daughter!" exclaimed the officer.</p> + +<p>"Yes, my daughter; Ellen Brentwood!" said +the mechanic. "Are there so many men's +daughters in the list, that you forget her +name?"</p> + +<p>"I implore you," said the officer, "to take +this purse. <i>Pray</i>, take this purse! If you will +not accept it for yourself, I entreat you to send +it to her!"</p> + +<p>"Go and buy a lathe with it," said the +mechanic. "Work, man! and repent of your +past life!"</p> + +<p>So saying, he closed the door in the officer's +face, and descended the stairs to his daily labor.</p> + + + + +<p><span class="smcap">Ignorance in England.</span>—Taking the whole +of northern Europe—including Scotland, and +France and Belgium (where education is at a +low ebb), we find that to every 2-1/4 of the population, +there is one child acquiring the rudiments +of knowledge; while in England there is only +one such pupil to every fourteen inhabitants. +It has been calculated that there are at the +present day in England and Wales nearly +8,000,000 persons who can neither read nor +write—that is to say, nearly one quarter of the +population. Also, that of all the children between +five and fourteen, more than one half +attend no place of instruction. These statements +would be hard to believe, if we had not +to encounter in our every-day life degrees of +illiteracy which would be startling, if we were +not thoroughly used to it. Wherever we turn, +ignorance, not always allied to poverty, stares +us in the face. If we look in the <i>Gazette</i>, at +the list of partnerships dissolved, not a month +passes but some unhappy man, rolling, perhaps, +in wealth, but wallowing in ignorance, is put to +the <i>experimentum crucis</i> of "his mark." The +number of petty jurors—in rural districts especially—who +can only sign with a cross, is +enormous. It is not unusual to see parish documents +of great local importance defaced with +the same humiliating symbol by persons whose +office shows them to be not only "men of mark," +but men of substance. A housewife in humble +life need only turn to the file of her tradesmen's +bills to discover hieroglyphics which render +them so many arithmetical puzzles. In short, +the practical evidences of the low ebb to which +the plainest rudiments of education in this country +have fallen, are too common to bear repetition. +We can not pass through the streets, we +can not enter a place of public assembly, or +ramble in the fields, without the gloomy shadow +of Ignorance sweeping over us.—<i>Dickens's +"Household Words."</i></p> + + +<p><a name="Page_89a" id="Page_89a"></a></p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3>[From The Ladies' Companion.]</h3> + +<h2>MEN AND WOMEN.</h2> + + +<p>A woman is naturally gratified when a man +singles her out, and addresses his conversation +to her. She takes pains to appear to the +best advantage, but without any thought of willfully +misleading.</p> + +<p>How different is it with men! At least it is +thus that women in general think of men. The +mask with them is deliberately put on and worn +as a mask, and wo betide the silly girl who is +too weak or too unsuspicious, not to appear displeased +with the well-turned compliments and +flattering attentions so lavishly bestowed upon +her by her partner at the ball. If a girl has +brothers she sees a little behind the scenes, and +is saved much mortification and disappointment. +She discovers how little men mean by attentions +they so freely bestow upon the last new face +which takes their fancy.</p> + +<p>Men are singularly wanting in good feeling +upon this subject; they pay a girl marked attention, +flatter her in every way, and then, perhaps, +when warned by some judicious friend +that they are going too far, "can hardly believe +the girl could be so foolish as to fancy that any +thing was meant."</p> + +<p>The fault which strikes women most forcibly +in men is <i>selfishness</i>. They expect too much in +every way, and become impatient if their comforts +and peculiarities are interfered with. If +the men of the present day were less selfish and +self-indulgent, and more willing to be contented +and happy upon moderate means, there would +be fewer causes of complaint against young +women undertaking situations as governesses +when they were wholly unfit for so responsible +an office. I feel the deepest interest in the +present movement for the improvement of the +female sex; and most cordially do I concur in +the schemes for this desirable purpose laid down +in "The Ladies' Companion;" but I could not +resist the temptation of lifting up my voice in +testimony against some of the every-day faults +of men, to which I think many of the follies +and weaknesses of women are mainly to be +attributed.</p> + +<p>Mr. Thackeray is the only writer of the present +day who touches, with any severity, upon the +faults of his own sex. He has shown us the style +of women that he thinks men most admire, in +"Amelia," and "Mrs. Pendennis." Certainly, +my own experience agrees with his opinion; and +until men are sufficiently improved to be able to +appreciate higher qualities in women, and to +choose their wives among women who possess +such qualities, I do not expect that the present +desirable movement will make much progress. +The improvement of both sexes must be simultaneous. +A "gentleman's horror" is still a +"blue stocking," which unpleasing epithet is +invariably bestowed upon all women who have +read much, and who are able to think and act +for themselves.</p> + +<p class="right"><span style="margin-right: 3em;"><span class="smcap">A Young Wife</span></span></p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>THE RETURN OF POPE PIUS IX. TO ROME.</h2> + + +<blockquote><p>The banishment of a Pope has hitherto been +a rare event: the following detailed and +graphic description of the return of <span class="smcap">Pius</span> IX. to +his seat of empire, superadds a certain degree of +historical importance to its immediate interest. +It is from the correspondence of the "London +Times."</p></blockquote> + + +<p class="right"><span style="margin-right: 3em;"><span class="smcap">Velletri</span>, <i>Thursday, April</i> 11.</span></p> + +<p>All speculation is now set at rest—the last +and the most important stage in the Papal progress +has been made—the Pope has arrived at +Velletri.</p> + +<p>The Pope was expected yesterday at three +o'clock, but very early in the morning every one +in the town, whether they had business to execute +or not, thought it necessary to rush about, +here, there, and every where. I endeavored to +emulate this activity, and to make myself as +ubiquitous as the nature of the place, which is +built on an ascent, and my own nature, which +is not adapted to ascents, would allow me. At +one moment I stood in admiration at the skill +with which sundry sheets and napkins were +wound round a wooden figure, to give it a +chaste and classic appearance, which figure—supposed +to represent Charity, Fortitude, Prudence, +or Plenty—was placed as a <i>basso relievo</i> +on the triumphal arch, where it might have done +for any goddess or virtue in the mythology or +calendar. At another moment I stood on the +Grand Place, marveling at the arch and dry +manner in which half a dozen painters were +inscribing to Pio Nono, over the doors of the +Municipality, every possible quality which could +have belonged to the whole family of saints—one +man, in despair at giving adequate expression +to his enthusiasm, having satisfied himself +with writing <i>Pio Nono Immortale! Immortale! +Immortale! Vero Angelo!</i></p> + +<p>But to say the truth, there was something +very touching in the enthusiasm of this rustic +and mountain people, although it was sometimes +absurdly and quaintly expressed; for instance, +in one window there was a picture, or rather a +kind of transparency, representing little angels, +which a scroll underneath indicated as the children +of His Holiness. Whether the Velletrians +intended to represent their own innocence or to +question that of His Holiness, I did not choose +to inquire. Then there were other pictures of +the Pope in every possible variety of dress; +sometimes as a young officer, at another as a +cardinal; again, a corner shop had him as a +benevolent man in a black coat and dingy neck-cloth; +but, most curious of all, he at one place +took the shape of a female angel placing her +foot on the demon of rebellion. The circumstance +of his Protean quality arose from each +family having turned their pictures from the +inside outside the houses, and printed Pio Nono +under each; but if the features of each picture +differed, not so the feelings that placed them +there: it was a touching and graceful sight to +see the people as they greeted each other that +morning.</p> + +<p>As the day drew on, the preparations were +completed, and the material of which every +house was built was lost under a mass of scarlet +and green. But, alas! about three o'clock the +clouds gathered upon Alba; Monte Calvi was +enveloped in mist, which sailed over the top of +Artemisio; the weather turned cold; and the +whole appearance of the day became threatening. +The figure of the Pope on the top of the +triumphal arch, to compose which sundry beds +must have been stripped of their sheets—for it +was of colossal dimensions—quivered in the +breeze, and at every blast I expected to see the +worst possible omen—the mitre, which was +only fastened by string to the sacred head, falling +down headless; but having pointed this out +to some persons who were too excited themselves +to see anything practical, a boy was sent +up, and with two long nails secured the mitre +more firmly on the sacred head than even Lord +Minto's counsels could do. At three o'clock +the Municipality passed down the lines of troops +amid every demonstration of noisy joy. There +were half a dozen very respectable gentlemen +in evening dress, all looking wonderfully alike, +and remarkably pale, either from the excitement +or the important functions which they had +to perform; but I ought to speak well of them, +for they invited me to the reserved part of the +small entrance square, where I had the good +fortune to shelter myself from the gusts of wind +which drove down from the hills. From three +to six we all waited, the people very patient, +and fortunately so crowded that they could not +well feel cold. The cardinal's servants—strange +grotesque-looking fellows in patchwork liveries—were +running up and down the portico, and +the soldiers on duty began to give evident signs +of a diminution of ardor. Some persons were +just beginning to croak, "Well, I told you he +would not come," when the cannon opened +from the heights, the troops fell in—a carriage +is seen coming down the hill, but it is the +wrong road. Who can it be? The troops +seem to know, for the chasseurs draw their +swords, the whole line present arms, the band +strikes up, and the French General Baraguay +d'Hilliers dashes through the gates. Again +roar the cannon—another carriage is seen, and +this time in the right direction; it is preceded +by the Pope's courier, covered with scarlet and +gold. The people cheered loudly, although they +could not have known whom it contained; but +they cheered the magnificent arms and the reeking +horses. It was the Vice-Legate of Velletri, +Monsignore Beraldi. The Municipality rushed +to the door of the carriage, and a little, energetic-looking +man in lace and purple descended, +and was almost smothered in the embraces of +the half dozen municipal officers, who confused +him with questions—"Dove e la sua Santita!" +"Vicino! Vicino!" "E a Frosinone, e a Valomontone?" +"Bellissimo, bellissimo, recevimento! +sorprendente! Tanto bello! tanto bello!"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span> +was all the poor little man could jerk out, +and at each word he was stifled with fresh embraces; +but he was soon set aside and forgotten, +when half a dozen of the Papal couriers galloped +up, splashed from head to foot. They were +followed by several carriages with four or six +horses, the postillions in their new liveries; then +came a large squadron of Neapolitan cavalry, +and immediately afterward the Pope. It was a +touching sight. While the women cried, the +men shouted; but however absurd a description +of enthusiasm may be, in its action it was +very fine. As he passed on, the troops presented +arms, and every one knelt. He drew up +in front of the municipality, who were so affected +or so frightened that their speech ended in +nothing. The carriage door was opened, and +then the scene which ensued was without parallel; +every one rushed forward to kiss the foot +which he put out. One little Abbate, Don Pietro +Metranga, amused me excessively. Nothing +could keep him back; he caught hold of the +sacred foot, he hugged it, he sighed, he wept +over it. A knot of gentlemen were standing +on the steps of the entrance, among others Mr. +Baillie Cochrane, in the Scotch Archers' uniform, +whom His Holiness beckoned forward, +and put out his hand for him to kiss. Again +the carriages would have moved on, for it was +late, and <i>Te Deum</i> had to be sung; but for some +time it was quite impossible to shake off the +crowd at the door. At last the procession +moved, and I, at the peril of my life—for the +crowd, couriers, and chasseurs rode like lunatics—ran +down to the cathedral. To my surprise, +the Pope had anticipated me, and the +door was shut. I was about to retire in despair, +when I saw a little man creeping silently +up to a small gate, followed by a very tall and +ungainly prince in a red uniform, which put me +very much in mind of Ducrow in his worst days. +I looked again, and I knew it was my friend +the Abbé, and if I followed him I must go right. +It was as I expected. While we had been +abusing the arrangements, he had gone and +asked for the key of the sacristy, by which way +we entered the church. It was densely crowded +in all parts, and principally by troops who +had preoccupied it. When the host was raised, +the effect was grand in the extreme. The Pope, +with all his subjects, bowed their heads to the +pavement, and the crash of arms was succeeded +by the most perfect silence. The next ceremony +was the benediction of the people from +the palace, which is situate on the extreme +height of the town. Nerving myself for this +last effort, I struggled and stumbled up the hill. +There the thousands from the country and neighborhood +were assembled, and in a few minutes +the Pope arrived. In the interval all the façades +of the houses had been illuminated, and the +effects of the light on the various picturesque +groups and gay uniforms was very striking. A +burst of music and fresh cannon announced the +arrival of His Holiness. He went straight into +the palace, and in a few minutes the priests +with the torches entered the small chapel which +was erected on the balcony. The Pope followed, +and then arose one shout, such as I never +remember to have heard: another and another, +and all knelt, and not a whisper was heard. As +the old man stretched out his hands to bless the +people, his voice rung clear and full in the +night:</p> + +<blockquote><p>"Sit nomen Dei benedictum."</p></blockquote> + +<p>And the people, with one voice, replied:</p> + +<blockquote><p>"Ex hoc et nunc et in seculum."</p></blockquote> + +<p>Then the Pope:</p> + +<blockquote><p>"Adjutorum nostrum in nomine Domini."</p></blockquote> + +<p>The people:</p> + +<blockquote><p>"Qui fecit cœlum et terram."</p></blockquote> + +<p>His Holiness:</p> + +<blockquote><p>"Benedicat vos omnipotens Deus Pater, Filius, et +Spiritus Sanctus."</p></blockquote> + +<p>And the people, with one voice:</p> + +<blockquote><p>"Amen!"</p></blockquote> + + +<p class="right"><span style="margin-right: 3em;"><i>Thursday Evening.</i></span></p> + +<p>The Velletri fireworks were certainly a failure; +the population understands genuflexions +better than squibs and crackers; but the illumination, +which consisted of large pots of +grease placed on posts at intervals of a yard +down every street, had really a very good effect, +and might afford a good hint for cheap illuminations +in England. What is most remarkable to +an Englishman on such occasions is, the total +absence of drunkenness and the admirable and +courteous conduct of the people to each other. +It seemed to me that the population never slept; +they were perambulating the streets chanting +"Viva Pio Nono" all night; and, at 8 o'clock +this morning, there was the same crowd, with +the same excitement. I went early to the Papal +Palace to witness the reception of the different +deputations; but, notwithstanding my activity, I +arrived one of the last, and on being shown into +a waiting-room found myself standing in a motley +group of generals of every clime, priests in +every variety of costume, judges, embassadors, +and noble guards. A long suite of ten rooms +was thrown open, and probably the old and +tapestried walls had never witnessed so strange +a sight before as the gallery presented. There +was a kind of order and degree preserved in the +distribution of the visitors. The first room +mostly contained priests of the lower ranks, in +the second were gentlemen in violet colored +dresses, looking proud and inflated; then came +a room full of officers, then distinguished strangers, +among whom might be seen General Baraguay +d'Hilliers, Count Ludolf, the Neapolitan +embassador, the Princes Massimo, Corsini, Ruspoli, +Cesareni, all covered with stars, ribbons, +and embroidery. The door of each room was +kept by the municipal troops, who were evidently +very new to the work, for the pages in their +pink silk dresses might be seen occasionally +instructing them in the salute. Presently there +was a move, every one drew back for Cardinal +Macchi; he is the <i>doyen</i> of the college, and, as +Archbishop of Velletri, appeared in his brightest +scarlet robes—a fit subject for the pencil of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span> +the great masters. He was followed by Cardinals +Asquini and Dupont in more modest garb, +and each as he passed received and gracefully +acknowledged the homage of the crowd. While +we were standing waiting, two priests in full +canonicals marched by with stately steps, preceded +by the cross, and bearing the consecrated +elements which they were to administer to the +Pope; they remained with him about twenty +minutes, and again the doors were thrown open, +and they came out with the same forms. The +Sacrament was succeeded by the breakfast +service of gold, which it would have made any +amateurs of Benvenuto Cellini's workmanship +envious to see. At last the breakfast was ended, +and I began to hope there was some chance of +our suspense terminating, when there was a +great movement among the crowd at one end +of the gallery, the pages rushed to their posts, +flung back the two doors, and the Prime Minister, +Cardinal Antonelli, entered. Standing in +that old palace, and gazing on the Priest Premier, +I could realize the times of Mazarin and +Richelieu. Neither of these could have possessed +a haughtier eye than Antonelli, or carried +themselves more proudly: every action spoke +the man self-possessed and confident in the +greatness of his position. He is tall, thin, about +forty-four or forty-five, of a dark and somewhat +sallow complexion, distinguished not by the +regularity or beauty of his features, but by the +calmness and dignity of their expression. As +the mass moved to let him pass to the Papal +apartments at the other extremity of the gallery, +there was nothing flurried in his manner or +hurried in his step—he knew to a nicety the +precise mode of courtesy which he should show +to each of his worshipers; for instance, when +the French general—ay, the rough soldier of +the camp—bent to kiss his hand, he drew it +back, and spoke a few low, complimentary +words as he bowed low to him, always graciously, +almost condescendingly. When the Roman +princes wished to perform the same salute his +hand met their lips half-way. When the crowd +of abbes, monks, priests, and deacons, seized it, +it passed on unresistingly from mouth to mouth, +as though he knew that blessing was passing +out of him, but that he found sufficient for all. +I was beginning to marvel what had become of +my little friend of the preceding evening, Don +Pietro, when I observed a slight stoppage, occasioned +by some one falling at the Cardinal's +feet. It was Don Pietro. He had knelt down +to get a better hold of the hanging fringes, and +no power could withdraw them from his lips; +he appeared determined to exhaust their valuable +savor, and, for the first time, I saw a smile +on Antonelli's countenance, which soon changed +into a look of severity, which so frightened the +little abbate that he gave up his prey. Cardinal +Antonelli went in to the Pope, and expectation +and patience had to be renewed. Then +came all the deputations in succession, men +with long parchments and long faces of anxiety. +There could not have been less than eight or +ten of these, who all returned from the interview +looking very bright and contented, ejaculating +"<i>Quanto e buono! quanto buono!</i>" To my +great disappointment, a very officious little gentleman, +who, it appears, is a nephew of Cardinal +Borroneo, and who, only two days since, +had been appointed a kind of deputy master of +the ceremonies, informed me that it was very +unlikely His Holiness could receive any more +people, as he had to go out at eleven, which fact +was confirmed by the Papal couriers, who +marched, booted and spurred, whip in hand, +into the ante-room. This announcement had +scarcely been made, when Cardinal Antonelli +appeared and informed us that the Pope would +receive two or three at a time, but that they +must not stop long. The first batch consisted +of "our own correspondent;" Don Flavio Ghigi, +I looked round to see who was the third, it was +the little abbate. As we entered the presence +chamber, I made an inclination, but, to my surprise, +both Don Flavio and Don Pietro rushed +forward. The Ghigi gracefully, and with emotion, +kissed the Sovereign's foot, and then his +hand, which was extended to him. His Holiness +had evidently been greatly excited. He +took Don Flavio by the hand, saying, "Rise +up, my son, our sorrows are over." Meanwhile +Don Pietro had embraced not merely the foot, +but the ankle. Vainly the Pope bade him rise. +At last he exclaimed, looking at the little man +with wonder, "Eh! Ché Don Pietro con una +barba!" "Ah," said the unclerical priest, not +in any degree taken by surprise, "Since our +misfortunes, your Holiness, I never had the +heart to shave." "Then, now that happier +times are come, we shall see your face quite +clean," was the Pope's reply. More genuflexions, +more embracings, and away we went. +After a few minutes' delay, the gentlemen of +the chamber gave notice that His Holiness was +about to pass; he was preceded by priests bearing +the crucifix, and this time wore a rich embroidered +stole; his benevolent face lighted up +as he blessed all his servants who knelt on his +passage. He has a striking countenance, full +of paternal goodness; nor does his tendency to +obesity interfere with the dignity of his movements. +Some half-dozen Capuchins fell down +before him, and the guards had some difficulty +in making them move out of the way. As the +Pope moved he dispensed his blessing to the +right and to the left. Meanwhile a great crowd +had collected outside. When he appeared he +was enthusiastically cheered. He entered his +carriage—the scarlet couriers kicked, cracked, +and spurred—the troops all knelt—the band +played some strange anthem, for he has become +rather tired of "<i>Viva Pio Nono</i>," with which +he has no agreeable associations—and the +pageant passed away.</p> + +<p>I was compelled to decline the invitation +from the Council of State; and, soon after his +Holiness's departure, I started for Rome, in +order to arrive before the gates were shut, for +the passport system is in the strictest operation.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span> +All along the road fortunately the preparations +have taken the turn of cleanliness—whitewash +is at a premium. At Genzano and Albano the +woods of Dunsinane seem to be moving through +the towns. At the former place I saw General +Baraguay d'Hilliers, who had to send to Albano +for two cutlets and bread, the supplies of Genzano +being exhausted. The Pope leaves Velletri +to-morrow, Friday, 12th, at 8 o'clock. At +Genzano the Neapolitan troops leave him, and +are replaced by the French; at Albano he +breakfasts, and enters Rome at 4 o'clock. +Preparations are making for a grand illumination, +and the town is all alive.</p> + + +<p class="right"><span style="margin-right: 3em;"><span class="smcap">Rome</span>, <i>Friday Evening, April</i> 12.</span></p> + +<p>The history of the last two years has taught +us to set very little reliance on any demonstrations +of public opinion. But for this sad experience +I should have warmly congratulated +the Pope and his French advisers on the success +of their experiment, and augured well of the +new Roman era from the enthusiasm which has +ushered it in. It is true that there was wanting +the delirious excitement which greeted our +second Charles on his return from a sixteen +years' exile; nor were the forms of courtly +etiquette broken through as on that memorable +21st of March, when Napoleon, accompanied +by Cambronne and Bertrand dashed into +the court of the Tuileries and was borne on +the shoulders of his troops into the Salle des +Maréchaux. Even the genuine heartiness, the +uncalculating expression of emotion, which delighted +the Pope at Frosinone and Velletri, +were not found in Rome; but then it must be +remembered that it was from Rome the Pope +was driven forth as an exile—that shame and +silence are the natural expressions of regret +and repentance; so, considering every thing, +the Pope was very well received. Bright banners +waved over his head, bright flowers were +strewn on his path, the day was warm and +sunny—in all respects it was a morning <i>albâ +notanda credâ</i>, one of the <i>dies fasti</i> of the reformed +Papacy.</p> + +<p>And yet the thoughts which the gorgeous +scene suggested were not of unmixed gratification. +French troops formed the Papal escort; +French troops lined the streets and thronged +St. Peter's. At first the mind was carried back +to the times when Pepin, as the eldest son of +the Catholic church, restored the Pope to the +throne of the Apostle, and for the moment we +were disposed to feel that the event and the instrument +were happily associated; but a moment's +glance at the tri-color standard, at the +free and easy manner of the general-in-chief +when he met the Pope at the gate of the Lateran, +recalled the mind back to the French Republic, +with all its long train of intrigue, oppression, +and infatuated folly.</p> + +<p>But, whatever the change of scene may be, +it must be admitted that the drama was full of +interest and the decorations magnificent. When +the sun shone on the masses collected in the +Piazza of St. Giovanni, and the great gates of +the Lateran being thrown open the gorgeous +hierarchy of Rome, with the banners of the +various Basilicæ, the insignia and costume of +every office issued forth, the effect was beyond +measure imposing. An artist must have failed +in painting, as he must have failed in composing +such a picture. Precisely at 4 o'clock the batteries +on the Place announced that the <i>cortége</i> +was in view, and presently the clouds of dust +blown before it gave a less agreeable assurance +of its approach. The procession was headed +by a strong detachment of cavalry; then followed +the tribe of couriers, outriders, and officials—whom +I described from Velletri—more troops, +and then the Pope. As he passed the drums +beat the <i>générale</i>, and the soldiers knelt, it was +commonly reported, but I know not with what +truth; it was the first time they ever knelt before +the head of the church. Certainly, with +the Italians church ceremonies are an instinct—the +coloring and grouping are so accidentally +but artistically arranged; the bright scarlet of +the numerous cardinals mingling with the solemn +black of the <i>Conservatori</i>, the ermine of the senate, +the golden vestments of the high-priests, and +the soberer hues of the inferior orders of the clergy. +When the Pope descended from the carriage +a loud cheer was raised and handkerchiefs were +waved in abundance; but, alas! the enthusiasm +that is valuable is that which does not boast of +such a luxury as handkerchiefs. Very few people +seemed to think it necessary to kneel, and, on +the whole, the mass were more interested in +the pageant itself than in the circumstances in +which it originated. The excitement of curiosity +was, however, at its height, for many people in +defiance of horse and foot broke into the square, +where they afforded excellent sport to the +chasseurs, who amused themselves in knocking +off their hats and then in preventing them from +picking them up. I ran down in time to see +his Holiness march in procession up the centre +of the magnificent St. Giovanni. This religious +part of the ceremony was perhaps more imposing +than that outside the church. The dead +silence while the Pope prayed, the solemn strains +when he rose from his knees, the rich draperies +which covered the walls and cast an atmosphere +of purple light around, the black dresses and +the vails which the ladies wore, mingling with +every variety of uniform, stars, and ribbons, produced +an admirable effect. The great object, +when this ceremony was half finished, was to +reach St. Peter's before the Pope could arrive +there, every body, of course, starting at the +same moment, and each party thinking they +were going to do a very clever thing in taking +a narrow roundabout way to the Ponte Sisto, +so choking it up and leaving the main road by +the Coliseum and the Foro Trajano quite deserted. +In the palmiest days of the circus +Rome could never have witnessed such chariot-racing. +All ideas of courtesy and solemnity +befitting the occasion were banished. The only +thing was who could arrive first at the bridge. +The streets as we passed through were quite<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span> +deserted—it looked like a city of the dead. As +we passed that admirable institution, the Hospital +St. Giovanni Colabita, which is always open +to public view, the officiating priests and soldiers +were standing in wonder at the entrance, +and the sick men raised themselves on their +arms and looked with interest on the excitement +occasioned by the return of the Head of that +Church, to which they owed the foundation +where they sought repose, and the faith that +taught them hope. By the time we arrived +at St. Peter's the immense space was already +crowded, but, thanks to my Irish pertinacity, I +soon elbowed myself into a foremost place at the +head of the steps. Here I had to wait for about +an hour, admiring the untiring energy of the +mob, who resisted all the attempts of the troops +to keep them back, the gentle expostulations of +the officers, and sometimes the less gentle persuasion +of the bayonet. At 6 o'clock, the banners +flew from the top of Adrian's Tomb, and +the roar of cannon recommenced; but again +the acclamations were very partial, and, but +for the invaluable pocket-handkerchiefs of the +ever-sympathizing ladies, the affair must have +passed off rather coldly. It was, however, very +different in St. Peter's. When his Holiness +trod that magnificent temple the thousands collected +within its walls appeared truly impressed +with the grandeur, the almost awful grandeur +of the scene. The man, the occasion, and the +splendor, all so striking; never was the host +celebrated under a more remarkable combination +of circumstances. The word of command +given to the troops rang through the immense +edifice, then the crash of arms, and every man +knelt for some moments amid a breathless silence, +only broken by the drums, which rolled +at intervals. The mass was ended. St. Peter's +sent forth the tens of thousands, the soldiers fell +in, the pageantry was at an end. Then came +the illumination, which was very beautiful, not +from the brilliancy of the lights, but from its +being so universal. St. Peter's was only lighted +<i>en demi-toilette</i>, and is to appear in his glory to-morrow +evening; but as the wind played among +the lamps, and the flames flickered and brightened +in the breeze, the effect from the Pincian +was singularly graceful. The Campodoglio, +that centre of triumph, was in a blaze of glory, +and the statues of the mighty of old stood forth, +like dark and solemn witnesses of the past, in +the sea of light. But one by one the lamps +died out, the silence and the darkness of the +night resumed their sway, and the glory of the +day became the history of the past.</p> + +<p>Thus far prognostications have been defeated. +The Pope is in the Vatican. Let us hope the +prophets of evil may again find their predictions +falsified; but, alas! it is impossible to be blind +to the fact, that within the last few days the +happiness of many homes has been destroyed, +and that the triumph of the one has been purchased +by the sorrows of the many. True, +some 30,000 scudi have been given in charity, +of which the Pope granted 25,000; but there is +that which is even more blessed than food—it +is liberty. There were conspiracies, it is true. +An attempt was made to set fire to the Quirinal; +a small <i>machine infernale</i> was exploded near the +Palazzo Teodoli. There was the excuse for +some arrests, but not for so many. But if the +hand of the administration is to press too heavily +on the people, the absence of prudence and indulgence +on the part of the church can not be +compensated for by the presence of its head. +In former days of clerical ignorance and religious +bigotry the master-writings of antiquity, +which were found inscribed on old parchments, +were obliterated to make way for missals, homilies, +and golden legends, gorgeously illuminated +but ignorantly expressed. Let not the church +fall into the same error in these days, by effacing +from its record the stern but solemn lessons of +the past, to replace them by illiberal, ungenerous, +and therefore erroneous views, clothed although +they may be with all the pride and pomp +of papal supremacy. Doubtless some time will +elapse before any particular course of policy will +be laid down. The Pope will for the moment +bide his time and observe. No one questions +his good intentions, no man puts his benevolence +in doubt. Let him only follow the dictates of +his own kindness of heart, chastened by his bitter +experience, which will teach him alike to +avoid the extremes of indulgence and the excesses +of severity.</p> + + +<p class="right"><span style="margin-right: 3em;"><i>Saturday Morning, April</i> 13.</span></p> + +<p>I am glad to be able to add that the night +has passed off in the most quiet and satisfactory +manner, and I do not hear that in a single instance +public tranquillity was disturbed. The +decorations, consisting of bright colors and rich +tapestry, which ornamented the windows and +balconies yesterday, are kept up to-day, and +the festive appearance of the city is fully maintained. +There is an apparent increase of movement +in all the principal thoroughfares. His +Holiness is engaged to-day in receiving various +deputations, but to-morrow the ceremonies will +recommence with high mass at St. Peter's, after +which the Pope will bless the people from the +balcony, and no doubt for several days to come +religious observances will occupy all the time +and attention of his Holiness. I am very glad to +find, from a gentleman who arrived last night, +having followed the papal progress through +Cesterna, Velletri, Genzano, and Albano, several +hours after I had left, that the most perfect +tranquillity prevailed on the whole line of road, +and up to the gates of Rome, at four o'clock this +morning not a single accident had occurred to +disturb the general satisfaction. Of course the +whole city is alive with reports of various descriptions; +every body draws his own conclusions +from the great events of yesterday, and +indulges in vaticinations in the not improbable +event of General Baraguay d'Hilliers' immediate +departure, now that his mission has been accomplished. +A fine field will be open for speculation. +Meanwhile the presence of the sovereign +has been of one inestimable advantage to the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span> +town—it has put the municipality on the alert. +The heaps of rubbish have been removed from +the centres of the squares and the corners of the +different streets, to the great discomfiture of the +tribes of hungry dogs which, for the comfort of +the tired population, had not energy to bay +through the night. Workpeople have been incessantly +employed in carting away the remains +of republican violence. I observe, however, +that the causeway between the Vatican and St. +Angelo, which was broken down by the mob, +has not yet been touched. Are we to hail this +as an omen that the sovereign will never again +require to seek the shelter of the fortress, or as +an evidence that the ecclesiastical and the civil +power are not yet entirely united?</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3>[From Bentley's Miscellany.]</h3> + +<h2>THE GENIUS OF GEORGE SAND.</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">the comedy of françois le champi.</span></h3> + + +<p>Scarcely half a dozen years have elapsed +since it was considered a dangerous experiment +to introduce the name of George Sand +into an English periodical. In the interval we +have overcome our scruples, and the life and +writings of George Sand are now as well known +in this country as those of Charles Dickens, or +Bulwer Lytton. The fact itself is a striking +proof of the power of a great intellect to make +itself heard in spite of the prejudices and aversion +of its audience.</p> + +<p>The intellectual power of George Sand is attested +by the suffrages of Europe. The use to +which she has put it is another question. Unfortunately, +she has applied it, for the most +part, to so bad a use, that half the people who +acknowledge the ascendency of her genius, see +too much occasion to deplore its perversion.</p> + +<p>The principles she has launched upon the +world have an inevitable tendency toward the +disorganization of all existing institutions, political +and social. This is the broad, palpable +fact, let sophistry disguise or evade it as it may. +Whether she pours out an intense novel that shall +plow up the roots of the domestic system, or composes +a proclamation for the Red Republicans +that shall throw the streets into a flame, her influence +is equally undeniable and equally pernicious.</p> + +<p>It has been frequently urged, in the defense +of her novels, that they do not assail the institution +of marriage, but the wrongs that are +perpetrated in its name. Give her the full +benefit of her intention, and the result is still +the same. Her eloquent expositions of ill-assorted +unions—her daring appeals from the obligations +they impose, to the affections they outrage—her +assertion of the rights of nature over +the conventions of society, have the final effect +of justifying the violation of duty on the precarious +ground of passion and inclination. The +bulk of her readers—of all readers—take such +social philosophy in the gross; they can not +pick out its nice distinctions, and sift its mystical +refinements. It is less a matter of reasoning +than of feeling. Their sensibility, and not +their judgment, is invoked. It is not to their +understanding that these rhapsodies are addressed, +but to their will and their passions. A +writer who really meant to vindicate an institution +against its abuses, would adopt a widely +different course; and it is only begging George +Sand out of the hands of the jury to assert that +the <i>intention</i> of her writings is opposed to their +<i>effect</i>, which is to sap the foundations upon which +the fabric of domestic life reposes.</p> + +<p>Her practice accords harmoniously with her +doctrines. Nobody who knows what the actual +life of George Sand has been, can doubt for a +moment the true nature of her opinions on the +subject of marriage. It is not a pleasant subject +to touch, and we should shrink from it, if it +were not as notorious as every thing else by +which she has become famous in her time. It +forms, in reality, as much a part of the philosophy +she desires to impress upon the world, as +the books through which she has expounded her +theory. It is neither more nor less than her +theory of freedom and independence in the matter +of passion (we dare not dignify it by any +higher name) put into action—rather vagrant +action, we fear, but, on that account, all the +more decisive. The wonder is, how any body, +however ardent an admirer of George Sand's +genius, can suppose for a moment that a woman +who leads this life from choice, and who +carries its excesses to an extremity of voluptuous +caprice, could by any human possibility +pass so completely out of herself into another +person in her books. The supposition is not +only absurd in itself, but utterly inconsistent +with the boldness and sincerity of her character.</p> + +<p>Some sort of justification for the career of +Madame Dudevant has been attempted to be +extracted from the alleged unhappiness of her +married life, which drove her at last to break +the bond, and purchase her liberty at the sacrifice +of a large portion of her fortune, originally +considerable. But all such justifications must +be accepted with hesitation in the absence of +authentic data, and more especially when subsequent +circumstances are of a nature to throw +suspicion upon the defense. Cases undoubtedly +occur in which the violent disruption of domestic +ties may be extenuated even upon moral +grounds; but we can not comprehend by what +process of reasoning the argument can be +stretched so as to cover any <i>indiscretions</i> that +take place afterward.</p> + +<p>Madame Dudevant was married in 1822, +her husband is represented as a plain country +gentleman, very upright and literal in his way, +and quite incapable, as may readily be supposed, +of sympathizing with what one of her ablest +critics calls her "aspirations toward the infinite, +art and liberty." She bore him two children, +lived with him eight years, and, shortly after +the insurrection of July, 1830, fled from her +dull house at Nohant, and went up to Paris. +Upon this step nobody has a right, to pronounce +judgment. Nor should the world penetrate the +recesses of her private life from that day forward,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span> +if her life could be truly considered private, +and if it were not in fact and in reality a +part and parcel of her literary career. She has +made so little scruple about publishing it herself, +that nobody else need have any such scruple +on that head. She has been interwoven in such +close intimacies with a succession of the most +celebrated persons, and has acted upon all occasions +so openly, that there is not the slightest +disguise upon the matter in the literary circles +of Paris. But even all this publicity might not +wholly warrant a reference to the erratic course +of this extraordinary woman, if she had not made +her own experiences, to some extent, the basis +of her works, which are said by those most familiar +with her habits and associations, to contain, +in a variety of forms, the confession of the +strange vicissitudes through which her heart and +imagination have passed. The reflection is not +limited to general types of human character and +passion, but constantly descends to individualization; +and her intimate friends are at no loss to +trace through her numerous productions a whole +gallery of portraits, beginning with poor M. +Dudevant, and running through a remarkable +group of contemporary celebrities. Her works +then are, avowedly, transcripts of her life; and +her life consequently becomes, in a grave sense, +literary property, as the spring from whence +has issued the turbid principles she glories in +enunciating.</p> + +<p>We have no desire to pursue this view of +George Sand's writings to its ultimate consequences. +It is enough for our present purpose +to indicate the source and nature of the influence +she exercises. Taking her life and her +works together, their action and re-action upon +each other, it may be observed that such a +writer could be produced and fostered only in +such a state of society as that of Paris. With +all her genius she would perish in London. The +moral atmosphere of France is necessary alike +to its culture and reception—the volcanic soil—the +perpetual excitement—the instability of the +people and the government—the eternal turmoil, +caprice, and transition—a society agitated +and polluted to its core. These elements of fanaticism +and confusion, to which she has administered +so skillfully, have made her what she +is. In such a country as England, calm, orderly, +and conservative, her social philosophy +would lack earth for its roots and air for its +blossoms. The very institutions of France, upon +which no man can count for an hour, are essential +to her existence as a writer.</p> + +<p>But time that mellows all things has not been +idle with George Sand. After having written +"Indiana," "Lelie," "Valentine," and sundry +other of her most conspicuous works, she found +it necessary to defend herself against the charge +of advocating conjugal infidelity. The defense, +to be sure, was pre-eminently sophistical, and +rested on a complete evasion of the real question; +but it was a concession to the feelings +and decorum of society which could not fail in +some measure to operate as a restraint in future +labors. Her subsequent works were not quite +so decisive on these topics; and in some of them +marriage was even treated with a respectful +recognition, and love was suffered to run its +course in purity and tranquillity, without any +of those terrible struggles with duty and conscience +which were previously considered indispensable +to bring out its intensity.</p> + +<p>And now comes an entirely new phase in the +development of George Sand's mind. Perhaps +about this time the influences immediately acting +upon her may have undergone a modification +that will partly help to explain the miracle. +Her daughter, the fair Solange, is grown up and +about to be married; and the household thoughts +and cares, and the tenderness of a serious and +unselfish cast, which creep to a mother's heart +on such occasions, may have shed their sweetness +upon this wayward soul, and inspired it +with congenial utterances. This is mere speculation, +more or less corroborated by time and +circumstance; but whatever may have been the +agencies by which the charm was wrought, certain +it is that George Sand has recently produced +a work which, we will not say flippantly in the +words of the song,</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Has for once a moral,"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>but which is in the highest degree chaste in +conception, and full of simplicity and truthfulness +in the execution. This work is in the form +of a three-act comedy, and is called "François +le Champi." (For the benefit of the country +gentlemen, we may as well at once explain that +the word <i>champi</i> means a foundling of the fields.)</p> + +<p>The domestic morality, the quiet nature, the +<i>home feeling</i> of this comedy may be described +as something wonderful for George Sand; not +that her genius was not felt to be plastic enough +for such a display, but that nobody suspected +she could have accomplished it with so slight an +appearance of artifice or false sentiment, or with +so much geniality and faith in its truth. But +this is not the only wonder connected with +"François le Champi." Its reception by the +Paris audience was something yet more wonderful. +We witnessed a few weeks ago at the +Odeon its hundred and fourth or fifth representation—and +it was a sight not readily forgotten. +The acting, exquisite as it was through the +minutest articulation of the scene, was infinitely +less striking than the stillness and patience of +the spectators. It was a strange and curious +thing to see these mercurial people pouring in +from their gay <i>cafés</i> and <i>restaurants</i>, and sitting +down to the representation of this dramatic pastoral +with much the same close and motionless +attention as a studious audience might be expected +to give to a scientific lecture. And it +was more curious still to contrast what was +doing at that moment in different places with a +like satisfaction to other crowds of listeners; +and to consider what an odd compound that +people must be who can equally enjoy the rustic +virtues of the Odeon, and the grossnesses and +prurient humors of the Variétés. Paris and the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span> +Parisians will, probably, forever remain an enigma +to the moral philosopher. One never can +see one's way through their surprising contradictions, +or calculate upon what will happen +next, or what turn any given state of affairs will +take. In this sensuous, sentimental, volatile, +and dismal Paris, any body who may think it +worth while to cross the water for such a spectacle, +may see reproduced together, side by side, +the innocence of the golden age, and the worst +vices of the last stage of a high civilization.</p> + +<p>At the bottom of all this, no doubt, will be +found a constitutional melancholy that goes a +great way to account for the opposite excesses +into which the national character runs. A +Frenchman is at heart the saddest man in the +universe; but his nature is of great compass at +both ends, being deficient only in the repose of +the middle notes. And this constitutional melancholy +opposed to the habitual frivolity (it +never deserved to be called mirth) of the French +is now more palpable than ever. Commercial +depression has brought it out in its darkest colors. +The people having got what they wanted, +begin now to discover that they want every +thing else. The shops are empty—the Palais +Royal is as <i>triste</i> as the suburb of a country +town—and the drive in the Champs Elysées, in +spite of its display of horsemen and private carriages, +mixed up in motley cavalcade with hack +cabriolets and omnibuses, is as different from +what it used to be in the old days of the monarchy, +as the castle of Dublin will be by-and-by, +when the viceregal pageant is removed to London. +The sparkling butterflies that used to +flirt about in the gardens of the Tuileries, may +now be seen pacing moodily along, their eyes +fixed on the ground, and their hands in their +pockets, sometimes with an old umbrella (which +seems to be received by common assent as the +emblem of broken-down fortunes), and sometimes +with a brown paper parcel under their +arms. The animal spirits of the Parisians are +very much perplexed under these circumstances; +and hence it is that they alternately try to drown +their melancholy in draughts of fierce excitement, +or to solace it by gentle sedatives.</p> + +<p>George Sand has done herself great honor by +this charming little drama. That she should +have chosen such a turbulent moment for such +an experiment upon the public, is not the least +remarkable incident connected with it. Only a +few months before we heard of her midnight +revels with the heads of the Repulican party in +the midst of the fury and bloodshed of an <i>emeute</i>; +and then follows close upon the blazing track +of revolution, a picture of household virtues so +sweet and tranquil, so full of tenderness and +love, that it is difficult to believe it to be the +production of the same hand that had recently +flung flaming addresses, like brands, into the +streets to set the town on fire. But we must +be surprised at nothing that happens in France, +where truth is so much stranger than fiction, as +to extinguish the last fragment of an excuse for +credulity and wonder.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>AMUSEMENTS OF THE COURT OF LOUIS XV.</h2> + + +<p>At one time the whole court was thrown into +great commotion by a sudden fancy which +the king took for worsted work. A courier was +instantly dispatched to Paris for wool, needles, +and canvas. He only took two hours and a half +to go and come back, and the same day all the +courtiers in Versailles were seen, with the Duke +of Gesvres at their head, embroidering like their +sovereign. At a later period, both the new and +the old nobility joined in the common pursuit of +pleasure before their fall. Bad taste and frivolousness +marked their amusements. Titled +ladies, who eagerly sought the favor of being +allowed a seat in the presence of Madame de +Pompadour, visited in secret the popular ball of +the Porcherons, or amused themselves by breaking +plates and glasses in obscure cabarets, assuming +the free and reckless tone of men. Their +husbands in the meanwhile embroidered at home, +or paced the stately galleries of Louis XIV, at +Versailles, a little painted cardboard figure in +one hand, while with the other they drew the +string which put it in motion. This preposterous +amusement even spread throughout the whole +ration, and grave magistrates were to be met +in the streets playing, like the rest, with their +<i>pantins</i>, as these figures were called. This +childish folly was satirized in the following +epigram:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"D'un peuple frivole et volage<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pantin fut la divinité.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Faut-il être s'il chérissait l'image<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dont il est la réalité?"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>The general degeneracy of the times was acknowledged +even by those who shared in it. The +old nobles ascribed it to that fatal evil, the want +of female chastity. Never, indeed, had this social +stain been so universal and so great.—<i>Women +in France during the Eighteenth Century.</i></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="smcap">The Pleasures of Old Age</span>.—One forenoon +I did prevail with my mother to let them carry +her to a considerable distance from the house, +to a sheltered, sunny spot, whereunto we did +often resort formerly to hear the wood-pigeons +which frequented the fir trees hereabout. We +seated ourselves, and did pass an hour or two +very pleasantly. She remarked, how merciful +it was ordered that these pleasures should remain +to the last days of life; that when the +infirmities of age make the company of others +burdensome to us and ourselves a burden to +them, the quiet contemplation of the works of +God affords a simple pleasure which needeth +not aught else than a contented mind to enjoy: +the singing of birds, even a single flower, or a +pretty spot like this, with its bank of primroses, +and the brook running in there below, and this +warm sunshine, how pleasant they are. They +take back our thoughts to our youth, which ago +doth love to look back upon.—<i>Diary of Lady +Willoughby.</i><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3>[From Bentley's Miscellany.]</h3> + +<h2>THE CIRCASSIAN PRIEST-WARRIOR AND HIS WHITE HORSE.</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">a true tale of the daghestan</span>.</h3> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Russian camp lay at the foot<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of a bold and lofty hill,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where many a noble tree had root,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And babbled many a rill;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the rill's laughter and the shade—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The melody and shade combin'd—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Men of most gentle feelings made,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But of unbending mind.<br /></span> +</div><br /><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">On that hill's side, concealed by trees,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Slumber'd Circassia's might,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Awaiting till the war-horse neighs<br /></span> +<span class="i1">His welcome to the light.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The first gray light broke forth at length,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And with it rose the Invader's strength.<br /></span> +</div><br /><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now, if the Vulture, reasoning bird,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Foretelling blood and scenting strife,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had not among the hill-clouds stirr'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">One would have said that human life,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Save that of shepherds tending flocks,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Breathed not among yon silent rocks.<br /></span> +</div><br /><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What Spectre, gliding tow'rd the rays<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of rising sun, meets Russian gaze,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And is it fright, amaze, or awe,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Distends each eye and hangs each jaw?<br /></span> +</div><br /><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A Horse, as snow on mountain height,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His master clothed all, too, in white,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Moved slowly up the mountain's side,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Arching his neck in conscious pride.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And though the cannon pointed stood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Charged with its slumb'ring lava flood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The rider gave no spur nor stroke,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nor did he touch the rein which lay<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upon the horse's neck—who yoke<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of spur nor rein did e'er obey.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His master's voice he knew—the horse,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And by it checked or strain'd his course.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But even no voice was needed now,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For when he reach'd the mountain's brow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He halted while his master spread<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His arms full wide, threw back his head,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And pour'd to Allah forth a pray'r—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or seem'd to pray—for Russian ear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Even in that pure atmosphere,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The name of Allah 'lone could hear.<br /></span> +</div><br /><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The sound, whose purport is to name<br /></span> +<span class="i1">God's name—it is an awful sound,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No matter from what lips it came,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Or in what form 'tis found—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Jehovah! Allah! God alike,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Most Christian heart with terror strike.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For ignorant as may be man,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Or with perverted learning stored,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There is, within the soul's wide span,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A deep unutterable word.<br /></span> +</div><br /><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A music, and a hymn,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Which any voice of love that breaks<br /></span> +<span class="i1">From pious spirit gently wakes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like slumb'ring Cherubim.<br /></span> +</div><br /><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And "Allah, Allah, Allah!" rose<br /></span> +<span class="i0">More thrilling still for Russian foes<br /></span> +<span class="i1">By Russian eyes unseen!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Behind a thick wood's screen,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Circassia's dreadful horsemen were<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bowed to the earth, and drinking there<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Enthusiasm grand from pray'r,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ready to spring as soldier fir'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When soldier is a Priest inspir'd.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ay, o'er that host the sacred name<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Allah rolled, a scorching flame,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That thrilled into the heart's deep core,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And swelled it like a heaving ocean<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Visited by Tempest's roar.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Invader! such sublime emotion<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bodes thee no good—so do not mock<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sacred sound which fills each rock.<br /></span> +</div><br /><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Yon Priest must fall, and by his blood<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Damp the affrighted army's zeal,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who dream his body's proof and good<br /></span> +<span class="i1">'Gainst flying ball or flashing steel."<br /></span> +</div><br /><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A gun was pointed—match applied—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The ball leaped forth; the smoke spread wide.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And cleared away as the echo died,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And "Allah! Allah! Allah!" rose<br /></span> +<span class="i1">From lips that never quiver'd:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor changed the White Priest's grand repose,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The White Horse never shiver'd.<br /></span> +</div><br /><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The cannoneer, now trembling, blushed,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">For he rarely missed his aim,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While his commander forward rushed,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">With words of bitter blame.<br /></span> +</div><br /><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"There is no mark to guide the eye,"<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Faltered the chidden man;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Yon thing of white is as the sky—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">No difference can I scan!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Let charge the gun with <i>mitraille</i> show'r,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Allah will be heard no more."<br /></span> +</div><br /><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And the gun was charged, and fixed, and fired;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Full fifty bullets flew.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The smoke hung long, the men admired<br /></span> +<span class="i1">How the cannon burst not through.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the startled echoes thundered,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And more again all wondered—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As died away the echoes' roar—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The name of Allah rose once more.<br /></span> +</div><br /><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And "Allah! Allah! Allah!" rose,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While horse and rider look'd repose,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As statues on the mountain raised,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Round whom the <i>mitraille</i> idly blazed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And rent and tore the earth around;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But nothing shook except the ground,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still the untroubled lip ne'er quivered,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still that white altar-horse ne'er shivered.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><br /><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Wait his return," the captain cried;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"The mountain's side a mark supplies,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And range in line some twenty guns:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fire one by one, as back he runs;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With <i>mitraille</i> loaded be each gun—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For him who kills a grade is won!"<br /></span> +</div><br /><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But back the White Horse ran not—no!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His pace was gentle, grand, and slow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His rider on the holy skies,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In meditation fix'd his eyes.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The enemy, with murderous plan,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Knew not which to most admire,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The grand White Steed, the grander man,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">When, lo! the signal—"Fire!"<br /></span> +</div><br /><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Unscath'd! unscath'd! now mark the race!"<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The laughing soldiers cried:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The White Horse quickens not his pace,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The Priest spurs not his side.<br /></span> +</div><br /><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ha! mark his figure on the rock!"<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A second gun is ringing,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The rock itself is springing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As from a mine's low shock,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Its splinters flying in the air,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And round the Priest and steed is there<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of balls and stones an atmosphere.<br /></span> +</div><br /><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What not one stain upon his side!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The whited robe remains undyed—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No bloody rain upon the path—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Surprise subdues the soldier's wrath.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Give him a chance for life, one chance;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">(Now, hear the chance the captain gave)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let every gun be fired at once—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">At random, too—and he, the brave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If he escape, will have to tell<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A prodigy—a miracle—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Or meet the bloodiest grave<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That ever closed o'er human corse,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O'er rider brave, or gallant horse."<br /></span> +</div><br /><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And away, and away, like thunder weather,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Full twenty cannon blaze together;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Forth the volcano vomits wide.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The men who fired them spring aside,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As back the cannons wheeled.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Then came a solemn pause;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One would have thought the mountain reeled,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">As a crater opes its jaws.<br /></span> +</div><br /><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But the smoke and sulphur clearing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Down the mountain's side, unfearing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Phantom-like glided horse and man,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As though they had no danger ran.<br /></span> +</div><br /><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Hurrah! hurrah!" the soldiers cheer,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And clap their hands in wild delight.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Circassia's Priest, who scorn'd to fear,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Bears the applause of Muscovite.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But, soldiers, load your guns once more;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Load them if ye have time,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For ears did hear your cannons roar,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To whom it is as sweet bells chime,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Inviting to a battle feast.<br /></span> +</div><br /><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Dark eyes did see the <i>mitraille</i> driven,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With murderous intent,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Gainst the High Priest, to whom was given<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Protection by offended Heaven,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">From you on murder bent,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Haste, sacrilegious Russian, haste,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For behold, their forest-screen they form,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With the ominous sounds of a gathering storm.<br /></span> +</div><br /><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Promptly—swiftly—fatally burst,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That storm by Patriot-piety nursed;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Down it swept the mountain's side;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Fast o'er the plain it pour'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An avalanche—a deluge wide,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">O'er the invader roared.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A White Horse, like a foaming wave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dashed forward 'mong the foremost brave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And swift as is the silver light,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He arrowy clear'd his way,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And cut the mass as clouds a ray.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or meteor piercing night.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Aimed at him now was many a lance,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No spear could stop his fiery prance,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oft would he seize it with his mouth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With snort and fierce tempestuous froth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While swift the rider would cut down<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The lanceman rash, and then dash on<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Among advancing hosts, or flying,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Marking his path with foemen dying.<br /></span> +</div><br /><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now, the morning after, when<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The gray light kiss'd the mountain,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And down it, like a fountain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Freshly, clearly ran—oh, then<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Priest and White Horse rose,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">So white they scarce threw shade,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But now no sacrilegious blows<br /></span> +<span class="i1">At man nor horse are made.<br /></span> +</div><br /><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The eyes profane that yester glared,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hung'ring for that sacred life,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Were quench'd in yester's fatal strife,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And void of meaning stared.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">No lip could mock—no Russian ear<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thanksgiving unto Allah hear,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">"To Allah, the deliverer!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The mountain look'd unchang'd, the plain is red;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Peaceful be the fallen invaders' bed.<br /></span> +<span class="i1"><i>Paris.</i><span style="margin-left: 11em;">J.F.C.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="smcap">On Atheism.</span>—"I had rather," says Sir +Francis Bacon, "believe all the fables in the +Legend, the Talmud, and the Koran, than that +this universal frame is without a mind. God +never wrought miracles to convince Atheists, +because His ordinary works are sufficient to +convince them. It is true, that a little philosophy +inclineth men's minds to Atheism; but +depth in philosophy bringeth them back to +religion; for while the mind of man looketh +upon second causes scattered, it may sometimes +rest on them, and go no further; but when it +beholdeth the chain of them confederate and +linked together, it must needs fly to Providence +and Deity."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3>[From the London Examiner.]</h3> + +<h2>UNSECTARIAN EDUCATION IN ENGLAND.</h2> + + +<p>Upon none of the various classes of official +men who have been employed for the last +twenty years in introducing or extending social +and administrative reforms, has a more delicate, +invidious, and thankless task devolved, than upon +those who have had the charge of the preliminary +arrangements for a system of national education.</p> + +<p>A growing sense of the importance of this +great subject has been slowly manifesting itself +since the close of last century. The Edgeworths +diffused practical views of individual +education. Lancaster demonstrated the possibility, +by judicious arrangement, of imparting +instruction to great numbers of children at once, +and, by thus reducing the cost of education, of +rendering it acceptable to the poorest. Before +Lancaster entered the field some benevolent +persons, among whom Nonconformists were the +most numerous and active, had set on foot Sunday +schools for the benefit of those whose week-day +toil left them no leisure for mental cultivation. +The High Church and Tory parties at +first very bitterly opposed these Sunday and +Lancaster schools; but finding the tide too +strong against them, they set up Dr. Bell, as a +Churchman, against Lancaster the Dissenter, +and organized the National School Society in +opposition to the British and Foreign School +Society. Controversy, as usual, not only increased +the numbers of those who took an interest +in the discussion, but rectified and improved +public opinion on the matters at issue. The +<i>Edinburgh Review</i> took the lead, and for a considerable +time kept it, as the champion of unsectarian +education; and the wit and wisdom +of Sydney Smith did invaluable service in this +field.</p> + +<p>The result was, that, very gradually, by means +of individuals and private associations, opportunities +of education were extended to classes +who had not previously enjoyed them; improved +methods of tuition were introduced; and the +good work went on in an imperfect, scrambling, +amorphous way till after the passing of the reform +bill, and the establishment of the Whigs in +power. From this time we have to date the +first regular efforts—poor enough at first, lamentably +inadequate still, but steadily and progressively +increasing—to countenance and extend +general education by the government and +legislature.</p> + +<p>The beginnings were very feeble, as we have +said. From 1833 to 1838, £20,000 was annually +voted for the promotion of educational +purposes, and this paltry sum was administered +by the Lords of the Treasury. Since 1839 the +annual grant has been administered by the Committee +of Council on Education, and its amount +has been progressively augmented. From 1839 +to 1842 inclusive it was £30,000 per annum; +in 1843 and 1844 it was £40,000; £75,000 +in 1845; £100,000 in 1846 and in 1847; and +in 1848 it was raised to £125,000. The distribution +of this grant being intrusted to a committee +of council, the president became to a +certain extent invested with the character of a +Minister of Education. A machinery of government +inspectors of schools was organized, and a +permanent educational secretary attached to the +committee. Not to mention other valuable results, +we may add that the establishment of +workhouse and factory schools, and the institution +of the normal school for training teachers +at Kneller Hall, are among the most prominent +benefits for which we are indebted to this growing +recognition of a care for the extension of +general education as one of the duties of government.</p> + +<p>When we thus look back on the twenty years +since 1830, it can not be denied that a great +advance has been made. We have now the +rudiments of an educational department of government. +The grants annually voted by parliament +for educational purposes are still, it must +be confessed, unworthily small, when contrasted +with the sums freely voted for less essential objects; +and the operations of the committee on +education have been thwarted, impeded, and +obstructed by all kinds of narrow-minded and +vexatious opposition. Still we can console ourselves +by the reflection that we have got an +educational department of government; that the +public mind is becoming familiarized with its +existence, and convinced of its utility; and that +its organization, slowly indeed, but surely, is +being extended and perfected.</p> + +<p>This was substantially admitted by Mr. Fox +in the able speech introducing his supplementary +educational plan to the House of Commons; and +with the strongest sense of the merits and claims +of the government measure, we find ourselves +able very heartily to approve of the proposal of +Mr. Fox. It would remedy the defects of the +existing system with the least possible jar to +existing prejudices. With nothing heretofore +set on foot for the promotion of educational purposes +would it in any way meddle—being addressed +simply to the remedy of notorious defects, +and for that purpose using and strengthening the +machinery at present employed by government. +It is on every account desirable that a fair and +earnest consideration should be given to the +second reading of this bill. It has been mixed +up with other educational projects lately set on +foot, and not a very correct impression prevails +respecting it.</p> + +<p>For here we must be allowed to remark, in +passing, that of all the caviling and vexatious +obstructions which the committee of council +have had to encounter, the most ungracious +and indefensible appear to have been those offered +by advocates of unsectarian education less +reasonable and considerate than Mr. Fox. We +are not going to challenge any particular respect +for the feelings of men in office. It is the well-understood +fate of those who undertake reforms +to be criticised sharply and unreflectingly; such<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span> +unsparing treatment helps to harden them for +the discharge of unpalatable duties; and even +the most captious objections may be suggestive +of improved arrangements. But making every +allowance on this score, it remains incontrovertible +that men entertaining sound abstract views +respecting unsectarian education, and the importance +of intrusting to the local public a large +share in the control of educational institutions, +like the members of the Lancashire School Association +and others, have not only refused to +make due allowance for the obstructions opposed +to the committee of council on education by the +prepossessions of the general public, but, by assuming +an attitude of jealous opposition to it, +have materially increased the difficulties with +which it has had to labor. These gentlemen +think no reform worth having unless it accord +precisely with their preconceived notions; and +are not in the least contented with getting what +they wish, unless they can also have it in the +exact way they wish it. Other and even more +factious malcontents have been found among a +class of very worthy but not very wise persons, +who, before government took any charge of +education, had exerted themselves to establish +Sunday and other schools; and have now allowed +the paltry jealousy lest under a new and +improved system of general education their own +local and congregational importance may be +diminished, to drive them into a virulent opposition +to any scheme of national education under +the auspices or by the instrumentality of government. +But all this parenthetically. Our immediate +object is to comment upon an opposition +experienced in carrying out the scheme of operations +which the state of public opinion has +compelled government to adopt, coming from +the very parties who were most instrumental in +forcing that scheme upon it.</p> + +<p>The committee of council, finding it impossible, +in the face of threatened resistance from +various religious bodies, to institute schools by +the unaided power of the secular authorities, +yielded so far as to enter into arrangements with +the existing societies of promoters of schools, +with a view to carry out the object through +their instrumentality. The correspondence commenced +in 1845 under the administration of Sir +Robert Peel, and the arrangements were concluded +under the ministry of Lord John Russell +in 1846. It was agreed that money should be +advanced by government to assist in founding +and supporting schools in connection with various +religious communions, on the conditions +that the schools should be open to the supervision +of government inspectors (who were, +however, to be restrained from all interference +"with the religious instruction, or discipline, or +management of the schools"), and that certain +"management clauses," drawn up in harmony +with the religious views of the respective communions, +should be adhered to. On these terms +arrangements were concluded with the National +Society, representing the promoters of Church +of England schools; with the British and Foreign +School Society; with the Wesleyan body; +and with the Free Church of Scotland. A negotiation +with the Poor-school Committee of the +Roman Catholic Church is still pending.</p> + +<p>With the exception of the National Society +all the bodies who entered into these arrangements +with the Committee of Council have co-operated +with it in a frank and fair spirit, and +to good purpose. A majority of the National +Society, on the other hand, have made vehement +efforts to recede from the very arrangements +which they themselves had proposed; and have +at length concluded a tedious and wrangling +attempt to cajole or bully the committee on +education to continue their grants, and yet +emancipate them from the conditions on which +they were made, by passing, on the 11th of +December last, a resolution which virtually suspends +all co-operation between the society and +government. The state of the controversy may +be briefly explained.</p> + +<p>The "management clauses" relating to +Church of England schools are few in number. +They relate, first, to the constitution of the managing +committee in populous and wealthy districts +of towns; second, to the constitution of +the committee in towns and villages having not +less than a population of five hundred, and a +few wealthy and well-educated inhabitants; +third, to its constitution in very small parishes, +where the residents are all illiterate, or indifferent +to education; and, fourth, to its constitution +in rural parishes having a population under five +hundred, and where, from poverty and ignorance, +the number of subscribers is limited to very few +persons. There are certain provisions common +to all these clauses. The master, mistress, assistant +teachers, managers, and electors, must +all be <i>bona fide</i> members of the church; the +clergyman is <i>ex-officio</i> chairman of the committee, +with power to place his curate or curates +upon it, and with a casting vote; the superintendence +of the religious and moral instruction +is vested exclusively in the clergyman, with an +appeal to the bishop, whose decision is final; +the bishop has a veto on the use of any book, in +school hours, which he deems contrary to the +doctrines of the church; in matters not relating +to religious and moral instruction, an appeal lies +to the president of the council, who refers it to +one of the inspectors of schools nominated by +himself, to another commissioner nominated by +the bishop of the diocese, and to a third named +by the other two commissioners. It must be +kept in mind as bearing on the composition of +such commissions, that the concurrence of the +archbishop of the province is originally requisite +in appointing inspectors of church schools, and +that the third commissioner must be a magistrate +and member of the church. We now +come to the points of difference in these "management +clauses." They relate exclusively to +the constitution of the local school committees. +In the first class of schools, the committee is +elected by annual subscribers; in the second, it +is nominated by the promoters, and vacancies<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span> +are supplied by election; in the third it is nominated, +as the promotions and vacancies are filled +up, by the remaining members, till the bishop +may direct the election to be thrown open to +subscribers; in the fourth no committee is provided, +but the bishop may order one to be nominated +by the clergyman from among the subscribers.</p> + +<p>The management clauses, thus drawn, were +accepted by the National Society. The provisions +for appeal, in matters of moral and religious +instruction, had been proposed by themselves, +and were in a manner forced by them on +the committee of council. Let us now look at +the claims which the society has since advanced, +and on account of the refusal of which it has +suspended, if not finally broken off, its alliance +with the committee.</p> + +<p>The National Society required: 1st, that a +free choice among the several clauses be left to +the promoters of church schools; 2d, that another +court of appeal be provided, in matters +not relating to religious and moral instruction; +and 3d, that all lay members of school committees +shall qualify to serve, by subscribing a +declaration not merely to the effect that they +are members of the church, but that they have +for three years past been communicants. And +because demur is made to these demands, the +committee of the society have addressed a letter +to the committee of council, in which they state +that they "deeply regret the resolution finally +adopted by the committee of council to exclude +from all share in the parliamentary grant for +education, those church schools the promoters +of which are unwilling to constitute their trust +deeds on the model prescribed by their lordships."</p> + +<p>It is a minor matter, yet, in connection with +considerations to be hereafter alluded to, not +unworthy of notice, that this statement is simply +untrue. The committee of council have only +declined to contribute, in the cases referred to, +to the building of schools; they have not absolutely +declined to contribute to their support +when built. They have refused to give public +money to build schools without a guarantee for +their proper management; but they have not +refused to give public money to support even +such schools as withhold the guarantee, so long +as they <i>are</i> properly conducted.</p> + +<p>The object of the alterations in the management +clauses demanded by the National Society +is sufficiently obvious. It is asked that a free +choice among the several clauses be left to the +promoters of church schools. This is a Jesuitical +plan for getting rid of the co-operation and +control of lay committee-men. The fourth +clause would uniformly be chosen, under which +no committee is appointed, but the bishop may +empower the clergyman to nominate one. It +is asked that another court of appeal be provided +in matters relating to the appointment, +selection, and dismissal of teachers and their +assistants. By this means the teachers would +be placed, in all matters, secular as well as religious, +under the despotic control of the clergy +instead of being amenable, in purely secular +matters, to a committee principally composed +of laymen, with an appeal to lay judges. The +third demand also goes to limit the range of +lay interference with, and control of church +schools. The sole aim of the demands of the +National Society, however variously expressed, +is to increase the clerical power. Their desire +and determination is to invest the clergy with +absolute despotic power over all Church of +England Schools.</p> + +<p>In short, the quarrel fastened by the National +Society on the committee on education is but +another move of that clerical faction which is +resolute to ignore the existence of laymen as +part of the church, except in the capacity of +mere passing thralls and bondsmen of the clergy. +It is a scheme to further their peculiar views. +It is another branch of the agitation which preceded +and has followed the appeal to the judicial +committee of the privy council in the Gorham +case. It is a trick to render the church policy +and theories of Philpotts omnipotent. The +equivocation to evade the arrangement investing +a degree of control over church schools in +lay contributors to their foundation and support, +by insisting upon liberty to choose an inapplicable +"management clause," is transparent. So +is the factious complaint against the court of +appeal provided in secular matters, and the +allegation that Nonconformists have no such +appeal, when the complainants know that this +special arrangement was conceded at their own +request. The untrue averment that the committee +of council have refused to contribute to +the support of schools not adopting the management +clauses is in proper keeping with these +equivocations. Let us add that the intolerant, +almost blasphemous denunciations of the council, +and of all who act with it, which some advancers +of these falsehoods and equivocations have uttered +from the platform, are no more than might have +been expected from men so lost to the sense of +honesty and shame.</p> + +<p>The position of the committee of council on +education is, simply and fairly, this: They have +yielded to the religious sentiment of an overwhelming +majority in the nation, and have consented +to the experiment of conducting the +secular education of the people by the instrumentality +of the various ecclesiastical associations +into which the people are divided. But +with reference to the church, as to all other +communions, they insist upon the laity having a +fair voice in the administration of those schools +which are in part supplied by the public money, +and which have in view secular as well as +religious instruction. The clergy of only two +communions seek to thwart them in this object, +and to arrogate all power over the schools to +themselves. The conduct of the ultra-High +Church faction in the Anglican establishment +we have attempted to make clear. The conduct +of the Roman Catholic clergy has been more +temperate, but hardly less insincere or invidious.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span> +Their poor-school committee declare that their +prelates would be unwilling "to accept, were it +tendered to them, an appellate jurisdiction over +schools in matters purely secular;" but at the +same time they claim for their "ecclesiastical +authorities" the power of deciding what questions +do or do not affect "religion and morals." +The committee of the council, on the one hand, +are exerting themselves to give effect to the +desire of a great majority of the English public, +that religious and moral shall be combined with +intellectual education; and, on the other, to +guard against their compliance with this desire +being perverted into an insidious instrument for +enabling arrogant priesthoods to set their feet +on the necks of the laity.</p> + +<p>We challenge for public men thus honorably +and usefully discharging important duties a more +frank and cordial support than it has yet been +their good fortune to obtain. Several ornaments +of the church, conspicuous for their learning and +moderation—such men as the Bishop of Manchester, +Archdeacon Hare, and the Rev. Henry +Parr Hamilton—have already borne direct and +earnest testimony to the temper and justice, as +well as straightforward, honesty of purpose, displayed +by the committee of council. It is to be +hoped that the laity of the church will now +extend to them the requisite support; and that +the Nonconformists and educational enthusiasts, +who, by their waywardness, have been playing +the game of the obscurantist priests, may see +the wisdom of altering this very doubtful policy.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3>[From the London Athenæum.]</h3> + +<h2>WILLIAM WORDSWORTH.</h2> + + +<p>The great philosophical poet of our age, +William Wordsworth, died at Rydal Mount, +in Westmoreland—among his native lakes and +hills—on the 23d of April, in the eighty-first year +of his age. Those who are curious in the accidents +of birth and death, observable in the biographies +of celebrated men, have thought it +worthy of notice that the day of Wordsworth's +death was the anniversary of Shakspeare's birth.</p> + +<p>William Wordsworth was born at Cockermouth, +in Cumberland, on the 7th of April, +1770, and educated at Hawkeshead Grammar +School, and at St. John's College, Cambridge. +He was designed by his parents for the Church—but +poetry and new prospects turned him into +another path. His pursuit through life was +poetry, and his profession that of Stamp Distributor +for the Government in the counties of +Cumberland and Westmoreland: to which office +he was appointed by the joint interest, as we +have heard, of his friend, Sir George Beaumont, +and his patron, Lord Lonsdale.</p> + +<p>Mr. Wordsworth made his first appearance +as a poet in the year 1793, by the publication +of a thin quarto volume entitled "An Evening +Walk—an Epistle in Verse, addressed to a +young Lady from the Lakes of the North of +England, by W. Wordsworth, B.A., of St. John's +College, Cambridge." Printed at London, and +published by Johnson in St. Paul's Church-yard +from whose shop seven years before had appeared +"The Task" of Cowper. In the same +year he published "Descriptive Sketches in +Verse, taken during a Pedestrian Tour in the +Italian, Grison, Swiss and Savoyard Alps."</p> + +<p>What was thought of these poems by a few +youthful admirers may be gathered from the +account given by Coleridge in his "Biographia +Literaria." "During the last year of my residence +at Cambridge, 1794, I became acquainted +with Mr. Wordsworth's first publication, entitled +'Descriptive Sketches;' and seldom, if +ever, was the emergence of an original poetic +genius above the literary horizon more evidently +announced." The two poets, then personally +unknown to each other, first became acquainted +in the summer of 1796, at Nether Stowey, in +Somersetshire. Coleridge was then in his +twenty-fourth year, and Wordsworth in his +twenty-sixth. A congeniality of pursuit soon +ripened into intimacy; and in September, 1798, +the two poets, accompanied by Miss Wordsworth, +made a tour in Germany.</p> + +<p>Wordsworth's next publication was the first +volume of his "Lyrical Ballads," published in +the summer of 1798 by Mr. Joseph Cottle, of +Bristol, who purchased the copyright for thirty +guineas. It made no way with the public, and +Cottle was a loser by the bargain. So little, +indeed, was thought of the volume, that when +Cottle's copyrights were transferred to the +Messrs. Longman, the "Lyrical Ballads" was +thrown in as a valueless volume, in the mercantile +idea of the term. The copyright was afterward +returned to Cottle; and by him transferred +to the great poet, who lived to see it of +real money value in the market of successful +publications.</p> + +<p>Disappointed but not disheartened by the very +indifferent success of his "Lyrical Ballads," +years elapsed before Mr. Wordsworth again +appeared as a poet. But he was not idle. He +was every year maturing his own principles of +poetry and making good the remark of Coleridge, +that to admire on principle is the only +way to imitate without loss of originality. In +the very year which witnessed the failure of his +"Lyrical Ballads," he wrote his "Peter Bell," +the most strongly condemned of all his poems. +The publication of this when his name was better +known (for he kept it by him till, he says, it +nearly survived its <i>minority</i>) brought a shower +of contemptuous criticisms on his head.</p> + +<p>Wordsworth married in the year 1803 Miss +Mary Hutchinson of Penrith, and settled among +his beloved Lakes—first at Grasmere, and afterward +at Rydal Mount. Southey's subsequent +retirement to the same beautiful country, and +Coleridge's visits to his brother poets, originated +the name of the Lake School of Poetry—"the +school of whining and hypochondriacal poets +that haunt the Lakes"—by which the opponents +of their principles and the admirers of the <i>Edinburgh +Review</i> distinguished the three great poets<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span> +whose names have long been and will still continue +to be connected.</p> + +<p>Wordsworth's fame increasing, slowly, it is +true, but securely, he put forth in 1807 two +volumes of his poems. They were reviewed by +Byron, then a young man of nineteen, and as +yet not even a poet in print, in the <i>Monthly +Literary Recreations</i> for the August of that +year. "The poems before us," says the reviewer, +"are by the author of 'Lyrical Ballads,' +a collection which has not undeservedly met +with a considerable share of public applause. +The characteristics of Mr. Wordsworth's muse +are, simple and flowing, though occasionally inharmonious +verse, strong and sometimes irresistible +appeals to the feelings, with unexceptionable +sentiments. Though the present work +may not equal his former efforts, many of the +poems possess a native elegance, natural and +unaffected, totally devoid of the tinsel embellishments +and abstract hyperboles of several +contemporary sonneteers. 'The Song at the +feasting of Brougham Castle,' 'The Seven Sisters,' +'The Affliction of Margaret ——, of ——,' possess +all the beauties and few of the +defects of this writer. The pieces least worthy +of the author are those entitled 'Moods of My +Own Mind.' We certainly wish these moods +had been less frequent." Such is a sample of +Byron's criticism—and of the criticising indeed +till very recently of a large class of people misled +by the caustic notices of the <i>Edinburgh Review</i>, +the pungent satires of Byron, and the +admirable parody of the poet's occasional style +contained in the "Rejected Addresses."</p> + +<p>His next publication was "The Excursion, +being a portion of The Recluse," printed in +quarto in the autumn of 1814. The critics +were hard upon it. "This will never do," was +the memorable opening of the review in the +<i>Edinburgh</i>. Men who thought for themselves +thought highly of the poem—but few dared to +speak out. Jeffrey boasted wherever he went +that he had <i>crushed</i> it in its birth. "<i>He</i> crush +'The Excursion!'" said Southey, "tell him he +might as easily crush Skiddaw." What Coleridge +often wished, that the first two books of +"The Excursion" had been published separately +under the name of "The Deserted Cottage" +was a happy idea—and one, if it had been carried +into execution, that would have removed +many of the trivial objections made at the time +to its unfinished character.</p> + +<p>While "The Excursion" was still dividing +the critics much in the same way that Davenant's +"Gondibert" divided them in the reign of +Charles the Second, "Peter Bell" appeared, to +throw among them yet greater difference of +opinion. The author was evidently aware that +the poem, from the novelty of its construction, +and the still greater novelty of its hero, required +some protection, and this protection he sought +behind the name of Southey: with which he +tells us in the Dedication, his own had often appeared +"both for good and evil." The deriders +of the poet laughed still louder than before—his +admirers too were at first somewhat amazed—and +the only consolation which the poet obtained +was from a sonnet of his own, in imitation of +Milton's sonnet, beginning:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A book was writ of late called "Tetrachordon."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>This sonnet runs as follows—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A book came forth of late, called "Peter Bell;"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not negligent the style;—the matter?—good<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As aught that song records of Robin Hood;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or Roy, renowned through many a Scottish dell;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But some (who brook these hackneyed themes full wet<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor heat at Tam O'Shanter's name their blood)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Waxed wrath, and with foul claws, a harpy brood<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On Bard and Hero clamorously fell.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Heed not, wild Rover once through heath and glen.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who mad'st at length the better life thy choice.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Heed not such onset! Nay, if praise of men<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To thee appear not an unmeaning voice,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lift up that gray-haired forehead and rejoice<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the just tribute of thy poet's pen.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Lamb in thanking the poet for his strange +but clever poem, asked "Where was 'The +Wagoner?'" of which he retained a pleasant +remembrance from hearing Wordsworth read it +in MS. when first written in 1806. Pleased +with the remembrance of the friendly essayist, +the poet determined on sending "The Wagoner" +to press—and in 1815 the poem appeared with +a dedication to his old friend who had thought +so favorably of it. Another publication of this +period which found still greater favor with many +of his admirers, was "The White Doe of Rylstone;" +founded on a tradition connected with +the beautiful scenery that surrounds Bolton +Priory, and on a ballad in Percy's collection +called "The Rising of the North."</p> + +<p>His next poem of consequence in the history +of his mind is "The River Duddon," described +in a noble series of sonnets, and containing some +of his very finest poetry. The poem is dedicated +to his brother, the Rev. Dr. Wordsworth, +and appeared in 1820. The subject seems to +have been suggested by Coleridge; who, among +his many unfulfilled intentions, designed writing +"The Brook," a poem which in his hands would +surely have been a masterly performance.</p> + +<p>The "Duddon" did much for the extension of +Wordsworth's fame; and the public began to +call, in consequence, for a fresh edition of his +poems. The sneers of Byron, so frequent in +his "Don Juan," such as,</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thou shalt believe in Milton, Dryden, Pope,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thou shalt not set up Wordsworth, Coleridge, Southey,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Because the first is crazed beyond all hope,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The second drunk, the third so quaint and mouthey;<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>and again in another place,</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Peddlers" and "Boats" and "Wagons." Oh! ye shades<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of Pope and Dryden, are we come to this?<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>and somewhat further on,</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The little boatman and his Peter Bell<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Can sneer at him who drew Achitophel,<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>fell comparatively harmless. The public had +now found out (what was known only to a few +before) that amid much novelty of construction<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span> +and connected with some very homely heroes, +there was a rich vein of the very noblest poetry +throughout the whole of Wordsworth's works, +such as was not to be found elsewhere in the +whole body of English poetry. The author felt +at the same time the truth of his own remark, +that no really great poet had ever obtained an +immediate reputation, or any popular recognition +commensurate to his merits.</p> + +<p>Wordsworth's last publication of importance +was his "Yarrow Revisited, and other Poems," +published in 1835. The new volume, however, +rather sustained than added to his reputation. +Some of the finer poems are additions to his +Memorials of a Tour in Scotland, which have +always ranked among the most delightful of his +works.</p> + +<p>In the same year Mr. Wordsworth received a +pension of £300 a year from Sir Robert Peel's +government, and permission to resign his office +of Stamp Distributor in favor of his son. The +remaining fifteen years of his life were therefore +even less diversified by events of moment than +any fifteen years previous had been. He seems +henceforth to have surrendered himself wholly +to the muse—and to contemplations suitable to +his own habits of mind and to the lovely country +in which he lived. This course of life, however, +was varied by a tour to Italy in company +with his friend, Mr. Crabb Robinson. The result +of his visit, as far as poetry is concerned, +was not remarkable.</p> + +<p>On Southey's death Mr. Wordsworth was +appointed Poet Laureate: an appropriate appointment, +if such an office was to be retained +at all—for the laurel dignified by the brows of +Ben Johnson, Davenant, Dryden, Tom Warton, +and Southey, had been sullied and degraded by +appearing on the unworthy temples of Tate, +Eusden, Whitehead, and Pye. Once, and once +only, did Wordsworth sing in discharge of his +office—on the occasion of Her Majesty's visit +to the University of Cambridge. There is more +obscurity, however, than poetry in what he +wrote. Indeed, the Ode in question must be +looked on as another addition to the numerous +examples that we possess of how poor a figure +the Muse invariably makes when the occasion +of her appearance is such as the poet himself +would not have selected for a voluntary invocation.</p> + +<p>If Wordsworth was unfortunate—as he certainly +was—in not finding any recognition of +his merits till his hair was gray, he was luckier +than other poets similarly situated have been in +living to, a good old age, and in the full enjoyment +of the amplest fame which his youthful +dreams had ever pictured. His admirers have +perhaps carried their idolatry too far: but there +can be no doubt of the high position which he +must always hold among British Poets. His +style is simple, unaffected, and vigorous—his +blank verse manly and idiomatic—his sentiments +both noble and pathetic—and his images poetic +and appropriate. His sonnets are among the +finest in the language: Milton's scarcely finer. +"I think," says Coleridge, "that Wordsworth +possessed more of the genius of a great philosophic +poet than any man I ever knew, or, as I +believe, has existed in England since Milton; +but it seems to me that he ought never to have +abandoned the contemplative position which is +peculiarly—perhaps I might say exclusively—fitted +for him. His proper title is <i>Spectator ab +extra</i>."</p> + +<p>Mr. Wordsworth's works are rich in quotations +suitable to the various phases of human +life; and his name will be remembered not by +his "Peter Bell," or his "Idiot Boy," or even +his "Wagoner," but by his "Excursion," his +"Laodamia," his "Tintern Abbey," some twenty +of his sonnets, his "Daisy," and his "Yarrow +<i>Un</i>visited." The lineaments of his face will be +perpetuated by Chantrey's noble bust; not by +the pictures of it, which in too many cases +justify the description that he gave of one of +them in our hearing: "It is the head of a +drover, or a common juryman, or a writer in +the <i>Edinburgh Review</i>, or a speaker in the +House of Commons: ... as for the head of a +poet, it is no such thing."</p> + + +<p><a name="Page_105a" id="Page_105a"></a></p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>THE MOTHER'S FIRST DUTY.</h2> + + +<p>I would wish every mother to pay attention +to the difference between a course of action, +adopted in compliance with <i>the authority</i>, and +between a conduct pursued <i>for the sake of another</i>.</p> + +<p>The first proceeds from reasoning; the second +flows from affection. The first may be abandoned, +when the immediate cause may have +ceased to exist; the latter will be permanent, +as it did not depend upon circumstances, or +accidental considerations, but is founded in a +moral and constant principle.</p> + +<p>In the case now before us, if the infant does +not disappoint the hope of the mother, it will +be a proof, first of affection, secondly, of confidence.</p> + +<p>Of affection—for the earliest, and the most +innocent wish to please, is that of the infant to +please the mother. If it be questioned, whether +that wish can at all exist in one so little advanced +in development. I would again, as I do +upon almost all occasions, appeal to the experience +of mothers.</p> + +<p>It is a proof, also, of confidence. Whenever +an infant has been neglected; when the necessary +attention has not been paid to its wants; +and when, instead of the smile of kindness, it +has been treated with the frown of severity; it +will be difficult to restore it to that quiet and +amiable disposition, in which it will wait for the +gratification of its desires without impatience, +and enjoy it without greediness.</p> + +<p>If affection and confidence have once gained +ground in the heart, it will be the first duty of +the mother to do every thing in her power to +encourage, to strengthen, and to elevate this +principle.—<i>Pestalozzi.</i><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>PHYSICAL EDUCATION.</h2> + + +<p>The revival of gymnastics is, in my opinion, +the most important step that has been done +in that direction. The great merit of the gymnastic +art is not the facility with which certain +exercises are performed, or the qualification +which they may give for certain exertions that +require much energy and dexterity; though an +attainment of that sort is by no means to be +despised. But the greatest advantage resulting +from a practice of these exercises, is the natural +progress which is observed in the arrangement +of them, beginning with those which, while they +are easy in themselves, yet lead as a preparatory +practice to others which are more complicated +and more difficult. There is not, perhaps, any +art in which it may be so clearly shown, that +energies which appeared to be wanting, are to +be produced, as it were, or at least are to be +developed, by no other means than practice +alone. This might afford a most useful hint to +all those who are engaged in teaching any object +of instruction, and who meet with difficulties +in bringing their pupils to that proficiency +which they had expected. Let them recommence +on a new plan, in which the exercises +shall be differently arranged, and the subjects +brought forward in a manner that will admit of +the natural progress from the easier to the more +difficult. When talent is wanting altogether, I +know that it can not be imparted by any system +of education. But I have been taught by +experience to consider the cases, in which +talents of any kind are absolutely wanting, but +very few. And in most cases, I have had the +satisfaction to find, that a faculty which had +been quite given over, instead of being developed, +had been obstructed rather in its agency by +a variety of exercises which tended to perplex +or to deter from further exertion.</p> + +<p>And here I would attend to a prejudice, which +is common enough, concerning the use of gymnastics; +it is frequently said, that they may be +very good for those who are strong enough; but +that those who are suffering from weakness of +constitution would be altogether unequal to, and +even endangered by, a practice of gymnastics.</p> + +<p>Now, I will venture to say, that this rests +merely upon a misunderstanding of the first +principles of gymnastics: the exercises not only +vary in proportion to the strength of individuals; +but exercises may be, and have been devised, +for those also who were decidedly suffering. +And I have consulted the authority of the first +physicians, who declared, that in cases which +had come under their personal observation, individuals +affected with pulmonary complaints, +if these had not already proceeded too far, had +been materially relieved and benefited by a constant +practice of the few and simple exercises, +which the system in such cases proposes.</p> + +<p>And for this very reason, that exercises may +be devised for every age, and for every degree +of bodily strength, however reduced, I consider +it to be essential, that mothers should make +themselves acquainted with the principles of gymnastics, +in order that, among the elementary and +preparatory exercises, they may be able to select +those which, according to circumstances, will be +most likely to suit and benefit their children.</p> + +<p>If the physical advantage of gymnastics is +great and incontrovertible, I would contend, +that the moral advantage resulting from them +is as valuable. I would again appeal to your +own observation. You have seen a number of +schools in Germany and Switzerland, of which +gymnastics formed a leading feature; and I +recollect that in our conversations on the subject, +you made the remark, which exactly +agrees with my own experience, that gymnastics, +well conducted, essentially contribute +to render children not only cheerful and healthy, +which, for moral education, are two all-important +points, but also to promote among them a +certain spirit of union, and a brotherly feeling, +which is most gratifying to the observer: habits +of industry, openness and frankness of character, +personal courage, and a manly conduct in suffering +pain, are also among the natural and +constant consequences of an early and a continued +practice of exercises on the gymnastic +system.—<i>Pestalozzi.</i></p> + + + +<p><a name="Page_106a" id="Page_106a"></a></p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class="smcap">Married Men.</span>—So good was he, that I now +take the opportunity of making a confession +which I have often had upon my lips, but have +hesitated to make from the fear of drawing upon +myself the hatred of every married woman. But +now I will run the risk—so now for it—some +time or other, people must unburden their hearts. +I confess, then, that I never find, and never +have found a man more lovable, more captivating +than when he is a married man; that is +to say, a good married man. A man is never +so handsome, never so perfect in my eyes as +when he is married, as when he is a husband, +and the father of a family, supporting, in his +manly arms, wife and children, and the whole +domestic circle, which, in his entrance into the +married state, closes around him and constitutes +a part of his home and his world. He is not +merely ennobled by this position, but he is actually +<i>beautified</i> by it. Then he appears to me as +the crown of creation; and it is only such a +man as this who is dangerous to me, and with +whom I am inclined to fall in love. But then +propriety forbids it. And Moses, and all European +legislators declare it to be sinful, and all +married women would consider it a sacred duty +to stone me.</p> + +<p>Nevertheless, I can not prevent the thing. It +is so, and it can not be otherwise, and my only +hope of appeasing those who are excited against +me is in my further confession, that no love +affects me so pleasantly; the contemplation of +no happiness makes me so happy, as that between +married people. It is amazing to myself, +because it seems to me, that I living unmarried, +or mateless, have with that happiness little to do. +But it is so, and it always was so.—<i>Miss Bremer.</i><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3>[From the London Examiner.]</h3> + +<h2>SIDNEY SMITH ON MORAL PHILOSOPHY.</h2> + + +<blockquote><p><i>Elementary Sketches of Moral Philosophy</i>; delivered +at the Royal Institution, in the years +1804, 1805, and 1806. By the late Rev. +Sydney Smith, M.A. Longman and Co.</p></blockquote> + +<p>How difficult it is to discover the merits of a +manuscript appears from the history of this +book. Lord Jeffrey, consulted as to the expediency +of its publication, while it yet existed but +in pen and ink, gave a decidedly adverse opinion. +But some hundred copies having been printed for +private distribution, and a copy reaching Lord +Jeffrey, he hastened, with his accustomed candor +and sweetness of disposition, to retract his +hostile verdict, after reading the book in print; +and (only three days before he was attacked by +the illness which terminated his valuable life) +thus wrote to Sydney Smith's widow:</p> + +<p>"I am now satisfied that in what I then said, +I did great and grievous injustice to the merit of +these lectures, and was quite wrong in dissuading +their publication, or concluding they would +add nothing to the reputation of the author; on +the contrary, my firm impression is, that, with a +few exceptions, they will do him as much credit +as any thing he ever wrote, and produce, on the +whole, a stronger impression of the force and vivacity +of his intellect, as well as a <i>truer</i> and +more engaging view of his character, than most +of what the world has yet seen of his writings."</p> + +<p>One practical application of this anecdote is to +enforce the importance of calligraphical studies +upon authors. A hieroglyphical hand is the +false medium excluding British authors from the +public; In general we should say that there is +no class of men whose education in this respect +is so deplorably imperfect, or to whom "only six +lessons" would so often be priceless.</p> + +<p>We must confess that the book before us has +taken us by surprise, notwithstanding our affectionate +esteem and admiration for its writer. It +has raised our estimate of the power and range +of his intellect, of his insight into human character, +of his well-balanced judgment, of his tolerance +and charity undebased by compromise with the +vicious or mean, of the vigorous play of his +thoughts, of the sustained beauty of his style, of +his eloquence as well as his humor, and of his +profundity no less than of his wit. Hurriedly +composed and unrevised though the lectures +obviously are, fragmentary as the condition is +in which they have been preserved, they are an +invaluable addition to English literature.</p> + +<p>Their delivery is associated with the first outbreak +of a fashion ridiculed by Lord Byron in his +<i>Beppo</i> and his <i>Blues</i>. The poet's satirical touches +notwithstanding, we think that those lectures +at the Royal Institution were even more wanted +by their fashionable auditors at the time, than +the similar prelections at Mechanics' Institutes +which came in vogue for less fashionable auditors +some few years later. Had it only been +possible to insure the services of a series of +Sydney Smiths, the Institution might have gone +on lecturing to the present day to the unspeakable +advantage of all parties concerned. What +innumerable fopperies in literature, in politics, in +religion, we might thus have escaped, it is not +easy to conjecture!</p> + +<p>The "Elementary Sketches" were delivered +soon after the commencement of Sydney's metropolitan +career, and bear strong marks of his +recent residence in Edinburgh. In their general +outline they closely approximate to the course +delivered from the moral philosophy chairs of +Scotch Universities. The division of the subject +is the same; the authorities most frequently and +panegyrically cited are the same; the principles +and opinions set forth are in the main the same. +Sydney Smith's moral philosophy belongs undeniably +to the Scotch school—to the school of Reid, +Stewart, and Adam Smith. But his "sketches" +do not the less indicate an original thinker, a +master in the science taught, and one who can +suggest to the great men we have named almost +as much as he receives from them.</p> + +<p>The book is an excellent illustration of what +could be gained by engrafting the Edinburgh +philosophy on a full-grown healthy English intellect. +The habits of English society, and the +classical tastes imbibed at an English University, +preserved Sydney Smith from that touch of pedantry +which characterized the thinkers of the +Scotch universities, trained in a provincial sphere, +and trammeled by the Calvinistic logic even after +they had freed themselves from the Calvinistic +theology. Without disparaging the Edinburgh +school of literature, the fact must be admitted +that its most prominent ornaments have generally +had the advantage of a "foreign" education. +Hume and Black studied in France; Adam Smith +was the member of an English university; Jeffrey +had become familiar with Oxford, though he +did not stay there; Homer was caught young, +and civilized at Hackney; and Mackintosh and +Brougham, thoroughly Scotch-bred, expanded +amazingly when transplanted to the south. It +may be a national weakness, but it occurs to us +that Sydney Smith, who was southern born as +well as bred, is still more free from narrownesses +and angularities than any of them.</p> + +<p>The healthy and genial nature of the man accounts +for his most characteristic excellencies, +but this book exhibits much we had not looked +for. The lectures on the passions evince a power +of comprehending and sympathizing with what is +great in the emotional part of human nature for +which we were not prepared. The lectures on +the conduct of the understanding, and on habit, +show that the writer had studied profoundly and successfully +the discipline of the mind and character. +The lectures on the beautiful are pervaded +by a healthy and unaffected appreciation +of the loveliness of external nature. And combined +with these high qualities, is that incessant +play of witty and humorous fancy (perhaps the +only certain safeguard against sentimental and +systematic excesses, and, when duly restrained<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span> +by the judgment and moral sense, the best corrective +of hasty philosophizing), so peculiar to +Sydney Smith. Much of all that we have mentioned +is indeed and undoubtedly attributable to +the original constitution of Smith's mind; but +for much he was also, beyond all question, indebted +to the greater freedom of thought and +conversation which (as compared with the +Scotch) has always characterized literary and +social opinion in England.</p> + +<p>The topics discussed in the lectures naturally +resolve themselves into, and are arranged in, +three divisions. We have an analysis of the +thinking faculties, or the powers of perception, +conception, and reasoning; an analysis of the +powers of taste, or of what Schiller and other +Germans designate the <i>æsthetical</i> part of our +nature; and an exposition of the "active powers +of the mind," as they are designated in the +nomenclature of the school of Reid, the appetites, +passions, and will. All these themes are discussed +with constant reference to a practical +application of the knowledge conveyed. Every +thing is treated in subordination to the establishment +of rules for the right conduct of the understanding, +and the formation of good habits. +These practical lessons for the strengthening of +the reason, and the regulation of the emotions +and imagination, constitute what, in the language +of Sydney Smith, and the school to which +he belongs, is called "Moral Philosophy."</p> + +<p>Apart from any particular school, the impression +of the author left by the perusal of his lectures +is that he was a man of considerable +reading in books, but far more deeply read in +the minds of those he encountered in society. +It is in this extensive knowledge of the world, +confirming and maturing the judgments suggested +by his wisely-balanced powers of feeling +and humor, that the superiority of Smith over +the rest of his school consists. He knows men +not merely as they are represented in books, but +as they actually are; he knows them not only +as they exist in a provincial sphere, narrowed +by petty interests and trammeled by pedantic +opinion, but as they exist in the freest community +of the world, where boundless ambition and enterprise +find full scope.</p> + +<p>It appears to us that Sidney Smith is most +perfectly at home—most entirely in his element—when<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">discussing the "active powers" of man,</span><br /> +or those impulses in which originate the practical +business of life. Scarcely, if at all, secondary in +point of excellence to his remarks on these topics, +are those which he makes on the sublime and +beautiful (a fact for which many will not be +prepared), and on wit and humor (which every +body will have expected). The least conclusive +and satisfactory of his discussions are those which +relate to the intellectual powers, or the anatomy +of mind. With reference to this part of the +course, however, it must be kept in remembrance +that here, more than in the other two departments, +he was fettered by the necessity of being +popular in his language, and brief and striking +in his illustrations, in order to keep within the +range of the understandings and intellects of his +auditory. These earlier lectures, too, survive +in a more fragmentary and dilapidated condition +than the rest. And after all, even where we +seem to miss a sufficiently extensive and intimate +acquaintance with the greatest and best writers +on the subjects handled, or a sufficiently subtle +and precise phraseology, we always find the +redeeming qualities of lively and original conception, +of witty and forcible illustration, and of +sound manly sense most felicitously expressed.</p> + +<p>In the general tone and tendency of the lectures +there is something Socratic. There is the +pervading common sense and practical turn of +mind which characterized the Greek philosopher. +There is the liberal tolerance, and the moral +intrepidity. There is the amusement always +insinuating or enforcing instruction. There is +the conversational tone, and adaptation to the +tastes and habits of the social circle. We feel +that we are listening to a man who moves +habitually in what is called the best society, who +can relish and add a finishing grace to the +pleasures of those portions of the community, but +who retains unsophisticated his estimate of +higher and more important matters, and whose +incessant aim is to engraft a better and worthier +tone of thought and aspiration upon the predominating +frivolity of his associates. Nothing +can be more graceful or charming than the way +in which Sydney accommodates himself to the +habitual language and thoughts of his brilliant +auditory; nothing more manly or strengthening +than the sound practical lessons he reads to them. +Such a manual should now be invaluable to our +aristocracy. Let them thoroughly embue themselves +with its precepts, and do their best to act +as largely as possible upon its suggestions. +They can have no better chance of maintaining +their position in the front of English society.</p> + +<p>To appreciate the book as a whole—and its +purpose, thought, and sentiment impart to it a +unity of the highest kind—it must be not only +read but studied. A few citations, however, +gleaned here and there at random, may convey +some notion of the characteristic beauties and +felicities of thought and expression which are +scattered through every page of it.</p> + + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">socrates</span>.</p> + +<p>Socrates was, in truth, not very fond of subtle +and refined speculations; and upon the intellectual +part of our nature, little or nothing of his +opinions is recorded. If we may infer any thing +from the clearness and simplicity of his opinions +on moral subjects, and from the bent which his +genius had received for the useful and the +practical, he would certainly have laid a strong +foundation for rational metaphysics. The slight +sketch I have given of his moral doctrines contains +nothing very new or very brilliant, but +comprehends those moral doctrines which every +person of education has been accustomed to hear +from his childhood; but two thousand years ago +they were great discoveries, two thousand years +since, common sense was not invented. If<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span> +Orpheus, or Linus, or any of those melodious +moralists, sung, in bad verses, such advice as a +grandmamma would now give to a child of six +years old, he was thought to be inspired by the +gods, and statues and altars were erected to his +memory. In Hesiod there is a very grave +exhortation to mankind to wash their faces: and +I have discovered a very strong analogy between +the precepts of Pythagoras and Mrs. Trimmer; +both think that a son ought to obey his father, +and both are clear that a good man is better +than a bad one. Therefore, to measure aright +this extraordinary man, we must remember the +period at which he lived; that he was the first +who called the attention of mankind from the +pernicious subtleties which engaged and perplexed +their wandering understandings to the +practical rules of life; he was the great father +and inventor of common sense, as Ceres was of +the plow, and Bacchus of intoxication. First, +he taught his contemporaries that they did not +know what they pretended to know; then he +showed them that they knew nothing; then he +told them what they ought to know. Lastly, to +sum the praise of Socrates, remember that two +thousand years ago, while men were worshiping +the stones on which they trod, and the insects +which crawled beneath their feet; two thousand +years ago, with the bowl of poison in his hand, +Socrates said, "I am persuaded that my death, +which is now just coming, will conduct me into +the presence of the gods, who are the most +righteous governors, and into the society of just +and good men; and I derive confidence from the +hope that something of man remains after death, +and that the condition of good men will then be +much better than that of the bad." Soon after +this he covered himself up with his cloak and +expired.</p> + + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">plato</span>.</p> + +<p>Of all the disciples of Socrates, Plato, though +he calls himself the least, was certainly the most +celebrated. As long as philosophy continued to +be studied among the Greeks and Romans, his +doctrines were taught, and his name revered. +Even to the present day his writings give a tinge +to the language and speculations of philosophy +and theology. Of the majestic beauty of Plato's +style, it is almost impossible to convey an adequate +idea. He keeps the understanding up to +a high pitch of enthusiasm longer than any existing +writer; and, in reading Plato, zeal and +animation seem rather to be the regular feelings +than the casual effervescence of the mind. He +appears almost disdaining the mutability and +imperfection of the earth on which he treads, to +be drawing down fire from heaven, and to be +seeking among the gods above, for the permanent, +the beautiful, and the grand! In contrasting +the vigor and the magnitude of his conceptions +with the extravagance of his philosophical +tenets, it is almost impossible to avoid wishing +that he had confined himself to the practice of +eloquence; and, in this way giving range and +expansion to the mind which was struggling +within him, had become one of those famous +orators who</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Wielded at will that fierce democratic,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shook th' arsenal, and fulmin'd over Greece<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To Macedon and Artaxerxes' throne."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>After having said so much of his language, I +am afraid I must proceed to his philosophy; +observing always, that, in stating it, I do not +always pretend to understand it, and do not even +engage to defend it. In comparing the very +few marks of sobriety and discretion with the +splendor of his genius, I have often exclaimed as +Prince Henry did about Falstaff's bill, "Oh, +monstrous! but one half-pennyworth of bread to +this intolerable deal of sack!"</p> + + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">dr. reid</span>.</p> + +<p>In answer to these metaphysical lunacies, Dr. +Reid has contended that, for all reasoning, there +must be some first principles from whence such +reasoning originates, and which must <i>necessarily</i> +be incapable of proof or they would not be <i>first +principles</i>; and that facts so irresistibly ingrafted +upon human belief as the existence of mind and +matter, must be assumed for truths, and reasoned +upon as such. All that these skeptics have said +of the outer and the inner world may, with equal +justice, be applied to every other radical truth. +Who can prove his own personal identity? A +man may think himself a clergyman, and believe +he has preached for these ten years last past; +but I defy him to offer any sort of <i>proof</i> that he +has not been a fishmonger all the time ... +ever doubt that all reasoning <i>must</i> end in arbitrary +belief; that we must, at last, come to +that point where the only reply can be, "I <i>am +so</i>—this belief is the constitution of my nature—God +willed it." I grant that this reasoning is +a ready asylum for ignorance and imbecility, and +that it affords too easy a relief from the pain of +rendering a reason: but the most unwearied +vigor of human talents must at last end there; +the wisdom of ages can get no further; here, +after all, the Porch, the Garden, the Academy, +the Lyceum, must close their labors.</p> + +<p>Much as we are indebted to Dr. Reid for +preaching up this doctrine, he has certainly executed +it very badly; and nothing can be more +imperfect than the table of first principles which +he has given us—an enumeration of which is still +a desideratum of the highest importance. The +skeptics may then call the philosophy of the +human mind merely hypothetical; but if it be +so, all other knowledge must, of course, be +hypothetical also; and if it be so, and all is erroneous, +it will do quite as well as reality, if we +keep up a certain proportion in our errors: for +there <i>may</i> be no such things as lunar tables, no +sea, and no ships; but, by falling into one of +these errors after the other, we avoid shipwreck, +or, what is the same thing, as it gives the same +pain, the idea of shipwreck. So with the philosophy +of the human mind: I may have no +memory, and no imagination—they may be mistakes; +but if I cultivate them both, I derive +honor and respect from my fellow-creatures,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span> +which may be mistakes also; but they harmonize +so well together, that they are quite as good as +realities. The only evil of errors is, that they +are never supported by consequences; if they +were, they would be as good as realities. Great +merit is given to Dr. Reid for his destruction of +what is called the ideal system, but I confess I +can not see the important consequences to which +it has yet led.</p> + + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">puns</span>.</p> + +<p>I have mentioned puns. They are, I believe, +what I have denominated them—the wit of +words. They are exactly the same to words +which wit is to ideas, and consist in the sudden +discovery of relations in language. A pun, to +be perfect in its kind, should contain two distinct +meanings; the one common and obvious; the +other, more remote; and in the notice which the +mind takes of the relation between these two +sets of words, and in the surprise which that +relation excites, the pleasure of a pun consists. +Miss Hamilton, in her book on Education, mentions +the instance of a boy so very neglectful, +that he could never be brought to read the word +<i>patriarchs</i>; but whenever he met with it he +always pronounced it <i>partridges</i>. A friend of +the writer observed to her, that it could hardly +be considered as a mere piece of negligence, for +it appeared to him that the boy, in calling them +partridges, was <i>making game</i> of the patriarchs. +Now, here are two distinct meanings contained +in the same phrase; for to make game of the +patriarchs is to laugh at them; or to make game +of them is, by a very extravagant and laughable +sort of ignorance of words, to rank them among +pheasants, partridges, and other such delicacies, +which the law takes under its protection and +calls <i>game</i>; and the whole pleasure derived from +this pun consists in the sudden discovery that +two such different meanings are referable to +one form of expression. I have very little to +say about puns; they are in very bad repute, +and so they <i>ought to</i> be. The wit of language +is so miserably inferior to the wit of ideas, that +it is very deservedly driven out of good company. +Sometimes, indeed, a pun makes its appearance +which seems for a moment to redeem +its species; but we must not be deceived by +them; it is a radically bad race of wit. By +unremitting persecution, it has been at last got +under, and driven into cloisters—from whence +it must never again be suffered to emerge into +the light of the world.</p> + + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">importance of being able to despise ridicule</span>.</p> + +<p>I know of no principle which it is of more +importance to fix in the minds of young people +than that of the most determined resistance +to the encroachment of ridicule. Give up to +the world, and to the ridicule with which the +world enforces its dominion, every trifling question +of manner and appearance; it is to toss +courage and firmness to the winds, to combat +with the mass upon such subjects as these. But +learn from the earliest days to insure your principles +against the perils of ridicule: you can no +more exercise your reason, if you live in the +constant dread of laughter, than you can enjoy +your life, if you are in the constant terror of +death. If you think it right to differ from the +times, and to make a stand for any valuable +point of morals, do it, however rustic, however +antiquated, however pedantic it may appear—do +it, not for insolence, but <i>seriously</i> and <i>grandly</i>—as +a man who wore a soul of his own in his +bosom, and did not wait till it was breathed into +him by the breath of fashion. Let men call you +mean, if you know you are just; hypocritical, +if you are honestly religious; pusillanimous, if +you feel that you are firm: resistance soon converts +unprincipled wit into sincere respect; and +no after-time can tear from you those feelings +which every man carries within him who has +made a noble and successful exertion in a virtuous +cause.</p> + + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">bulls and charades</span>.</p> + +<p>A bull—which must by no means be passed +over in this recapitulation of the family of wit and +humor—a bull is exactly the counterpart of a +witticism: for as wit discovers real relations +that are not apparent, bulls admit apparent +relations that are not real. The pleasure arising +from bulls, proceeds from our surprise at suddenly +discovering two things to be dissimilar in +which a resemblance might have been suspected. +The same doctrine will apply to wit and bulls in +action. Practical wit discovers connection or +relation between actions, in which duller understandings +discover none; and practical bulls +originate from an apparent relation between two +actions which more correct understandings immediately +perceive to have none at all. In the +late rebellion in Ireland, the rebels, who had +conceived a high degree of indignation against +some great banker, passed a resolution that they +would burn his notes; which they accordingly +did, with great assiduity; forgetting, that in +burning his notes they were destroying his +debts, and that for every note which went into +the flames, a correspondent value went into the +banker's pocket. A gentleman, in speaking of +a nobleman's wife of great rank and fortune, +lamented very much that she had no children. +A medical gentleman who was present observed, +that to have no children was a great misfortune, +but he thought he had remarked it was <i>hereditary</i> +in some families. Take any instance of this +branch of the ridiculous, and you will always +find an apparent relation of ideas leading to a +complete inconsistency.</p> + +<p>I shall say nothing of charades, and such sort +of unpardonable trumpery: if charades are made +at all, they should be made without benefit of +clergy, the offender should instantly be hurried +off to execution, and be cut off in the middle of +his dullness, without being allowed to explain +to the executioner why his first is like his second, +or what is the resemblance between his +fourth and his ninth.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span></p> + + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">wit and professed wits</span>.</p> + +<p>I wish, after all I have said about wit and +humor, I could satisfy myself of their good +effects upon the character and disposition; but +I am convinced the probable tendency of both +is, to corrupt the understanding and the heart. +I am not speaking of wit where it is kept down +by more serious qualities of mind, and thrown +into the background of the picture; but where +it stands out boldly and emphatically, and is +evidently the master quality in any particular +mind. Professed wits, though they are generally +courted for the amusement they afford, are +seldom respected for the qualities they possess. +The habit of seeing things in a witty point of +view, increases, and makes incursions from its +own proper regions, upon principles and opinions +which are ever held sacred by the wise and +good. A witty man is a dramatic performer: +in process of time, he can no more exist without +applause than he can exist without air; if his +audience be small, or if they are inattentive, or +if a new wit defrauds him of any portion of his +admiration, it is all over with him—he sickens, +and is extinguished. The applauses of the theatre +on which he performs are so essential to +him, that he must obtain them at the expense +of decency, friendship, and good feeling. It +must always be <i>probable</i>, too, that a <i>mere</i> wit is +a person of light and frivolous understanding. +His business is not to discover relations of ideas +that are <i>useful</i>, and have a real influence upon +life, but to discover the more trifling relations +which are only amusing; he never looks at +things with the naked eye of common sense, +but is always gazing at the world through a +Claude Lorraine glass—discovering a thousand +appearances which are created only by the +instrument of inspection, and covering every +object with factitious and unnatural colors. In +short, the character of a <i>mere</i> wit it is impossible +to consider as very amiable, very respectable, +or very safe. So far the world, in judging +of wit where it has swallowed up all other +qualities, judge aright; but I doubt if they are +sufficiently indulgent to this faculty where it +exists in a lesser degree, and as one out of +many other ingredients of the understanding. +There is an association in men's minds between +dullness and wisdom, amusement and folly, which +has a very powerful influence in decision upon +character, and is not overcome without considerable +difficulty. The reason is, that the <i>outward</i> +signs of a dull man and a wise man are +the same, and so are the outward signs of a +frivolous man and a witty man; and we are not +to expect that the majority will be disposed to +look to much <i>more</i> than the outward sign. I +believe the fact to be, that wit is very seldom +the <i>only</i> eminent quality which resides in the +mind of any man; it is commonly accompanied +by many other talents of every description, and +ought to be considered as a strong evidence of +a fertile and superior understanding. Almost +all the great poets, orators, and statesmen of all +times, have been witty, Cæsar, Alexander, +Aristotle, Descartes, and Lord Bacon, were +witty men; so were Cicero, Shakspeare, Demosthenes, +Boileau, Pope, Dryden, Fontenelle, +Jonson, Waller, Cowley, Solon, Socrates, Dr. +Johnson, and almost every man who has made +a distinguished figure in the House of Commons. +I have talked of the <i>danger</i> of wit: I +do not mean by that to enter into commonplace +declamation against faculties because they <i>are</i> +dangerous; wit is dangerous, eloquence is dangerous, +a talent for observation is dangerous, +<i>every</i> thing is dangerous that has efficacy and +vigor for its characteristics: nothing is safe but +mediocrity. The business is, in conducting the +understanding well, to risk something; to aim +at uniting things that are commonly incompatible. +The meaning of an extraordinary man is, +that he is <i>eight</i> men, not one man; that he has +as much wit as if he had no sense, and as much +sense as if he had no wit; that his conduct is as +judicious as if he were the dullest of human +beings, and his imagination as brilliant as if he +were irretrievably ruined. But when wit is +combined with sense and information; when it +is softened by benevolence, and restrained by +strong principle; when it is in the hands of a +man who can use it and despise it, who can be +witty and something much <i>better</i> than witty, who +loves honor, justice, decency, good-nature, morality, +and religion, ten thousand times better +than wit; wit is <i>then</i> a beautiful and delightful +part of our nature. There is no more interesting +spectacle than to see the effects of wit upon +the different characters of men; than to observe +it expanding caution, relaxing dignity, unfreezing +coldness—teaching age, and care, and pain +to smile—extorting reluctant gleams of pleasure +from melancholy, and charming even the +pangs of grief. It is pleasant to observe how it +penetrates through the coldness and awkwardness +of society, gradually bringing men nearer +together, and, like the combined force of wine +and oil, giving every man a glad heart and a +shining countenance. Genuine and innocent +wit like this, is surely the <i>flavor of the mind</i>! +Man could direct his ways by plain reason, and +support his life by tasteless food; but God has +given us wit, and flavor, and brightness, and +laughter, and perfumes, to enliven the days of +man's pilgrimage, and to "charm his pained +steps over the burning marl."</p> + + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">influence of association</span>.</p> + +<p>I remember once seeing an advertisement in +the papers, with which I was much struck; and +which I will take the liberty of reading: "Lost, +in the Temple Coffee-house, and supposed to be +taken away by mistake, an oaken stick, which +has supported its master not only over the +greatest part of Europe, but has been his companion +in his journeys over the inhospitable deserts +of Africa: whoever will restore it to the +waiter, will confer a very serious obligation on +the advertiser; or, if that be any object, shall +receive a recompense very much above the value<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span> +of the article restored." Now, here is a man, +who buys a sixpenny stick, because it is useful; +and, totally forgetting the trifling causes which +first made his stick of any consequence, speaks +of it with warmth and affection; calls it his companion; +and would hardly have changed it, perhaps, +for the gold stick which is carried before +the king. But the best and the strongest example +of this, and of the customary progress of +association, is in the passion of avarice. A child +only loves a guinea because it shines; and, as +it is equally splendid, he loves a gilt button as +well. In after-life, he begins to love wealth, +because it affords him the comforts of existence; +and then loves it so well, that he denies himself +the common comforts of life to increase it. The +uniting idea is so totally forgotten, that it is +completely sacrificed to the ideas which it unites. +Two friends unite against the person to whose +introduction they are indebted for their knowledge +of each other; exclude him their society, +and ruin him by their combination.</p> + + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">indestructibility of enjoyment.</span></p> + +<p>Mankind are always happier for having been +happy; so that if you make them happy now, +you make them happy twenty years hence, by +the memory of it. A childhood passed with a +due mixture of rational indulgence, under fond +and wise parents, diffuses over the whole of life +a feeling of calm pleasure; and, in extreme old +age, is the very last remembrance which time +can erase from the mind of man. No enjoyment, +however inconsiderable, is confined to the +present moment. A man is the happier for +life, from having made once an agreeable tour, +or lived for any length of time with pleasant +people, or enjoyed any considerable interval of +innocent pleasure: and it is most probably the +recollection of their past pleasures, which contributes +to render old men so inattentive to the +scenes before them; and carries them back to a +world that is past, and to scenes never to be +renewed again.</p> + + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">happiness as a moral agent.</span></p> + +<p>That virtue gives happiness we all know; +but if it be true that happiness contributes to +virtue, the principle furnishes us with some sort +of excuse for the errors and excesses of able +young man, at the bottom of life, fretting +with impatience under their obscurity, and +hatching a thousand chimeras of being neglected +and overlooked by the world. The natural +cure for these errors is the sunshine of prosperity: +as they get happier, they get better, and +learn, from the respect which they receive from +others, to respect themselves. "Whenever," +says Mr. Lancaster (in his book just published), +"I met with a boy particularly mischievous, I +made him a monitor: I never knew this fail." +The <i>cause</i> for the promotion, and the kind of +encouragement it must occasion, I confess +appear rather singular, but of the <i>effect</i>, I have +no sort of doubt.</p> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">power of habit.</span></p> + +<p>Habit uniformly and constantly strengthens +all our active exertions: whatever we do often, +we become more and more apt to do. A snuff-taker +begins with a pinch of snuff per day, and +ends with a pound or two every month. Swearing +begins in anger; it ends by mingling itself +with ordinary conversation. Such-like instances +are of too common notoriety to need that they +be adduced; but, as I before observed, at the +very time that the tendency to do the thing is +every day increasing, the pleasure resulting +from it is, by the blunted sensibility of the +bodily organ, diminished, and the desire is irresistible, +though the gratification is nothing. +There is rather an entertaining example of this +in Fielding's "Life of Jonathan Wild," in that +scene where he is represented as playing at +cards with the count, a professed gambler. +"Such," says Mr. Fielding, "was the power +of habit over the minds of these illustrious persons, +that Mr. Wild could not keep his hands +out of the count's pockets, though he knew they +were empty; nor could the count abstain from +palming a card, though he was well aware Mr. +Wild had no money to pay him."</p> + + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">the use of the passions.</span></p> + +<p>The passions are in morals, what motion is +in physics; they create, preserve, and animate, +and without them all would be silence and death. +Avarice guides men across the deserts of the +ocean; pride covers the earth with trophies, +and mausoleums, and pyramids; love turns men +from their savage rudeness; ambition shakes the +very foundations of kingdoms. By the love of +glory, weak nations swell into magnitude and +strength. Whatever there is of terrible, whatever +there is of beautiful in human events, all +that shakes the soul to and fro, and is remembered +while thought and flesh cling together, +all these have their origin from the passions. +As it is only in storms, and when their coming +waters are driven up into the air, that we catch +a sight of the depths of the sea, it is only in the +season of perturbation that we have a glimpse +of the real internal nature of man. It is then +only that the might of these eruptions, shaking +his frame, dissipates all the feeble coverings of +opinion, and rends in pieces that cobweb vail +with which fashion hides the feelings of the +heart. It is then only that Nature speaks her +genuine feelings; and, as at the last night +of Troy, when Venus illumined the darkness, +Æneas saw the gods themselves at work, so +may we, when the blaze of passion is flung +upon man's nature, mark in him the signs of a +celestial origin, and tremble at the invisible +agents of God!</p> + +<p>Look at great men in critical and perilous +moments, when every cold and little spirit is +extinguished: their passions always bring them +out harmless, and at the very moment when +they <i>seem</i> to perish, they emerge into greater +glory. Alexander in the midst of his mutinous<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span> +soldiers; Frederick of Prussia, combating against +the armies of three kingdoms; Cortes, breaking +in pieces the Mexican empire: their passions +led all these great men to fix their attention +strongly upon the objects of their desires; they +saw them under aspects unknown to, and unseen +by common men, and which enabled them to +conceive and execute those hardy enterprises, +deemed rash and foolish, till their wisdom was +established by their success. It is, in fact, the +great passions alone which enable men to distinguish +between what is difficult and what is +impossible; a distinction always confounded by +merely <i>sensible</i> men, who do not even <i>suspect</i> +the existence of those means which men of +genius employ to effect their object. It is only +passion which gives a man that high enthusiasm +for his country, and makes him regard it as the +only object worthy of human attention; an enthusiasm +which to common eyes appears madness +and extravagance, but which always creates +fresh powers of mind, and commonly insures +their ultimate success. In fact, it is only the +great passions which, tearing us away from the +seductions of indolence, endow us with that continuity +of attention, to which alone superiority +of mind is attached. It is to their passions +alone, under the providence of God, that nations +must trust, when perils gather thick +about them, and their last moments seem to be +at hand. The history of the world shows us +that men are not to be counted by their numbers, +but by the fire and vigor of their passions; +by their deep sense of injury; by their memory +of past glory; by their eagerness for fresh fame; +by their clear and steady resolution of ceasing +to live, or of achieving a particular object, +which, when it is <i>once</i> formed, strikes off a load +of manacles and chains, and gives free space to +all heavenly and heroic feelings. All great and +extraordinary actions come from the heart. +There are seasons in human affairs, when qualities +fit enough to conduct the common business +of life, are feeble and useless, and when men +must trust to emotion for that safety which +reason at such times can never give. These +are the feelings which led the ten thousand over +the Carduchian mountains; these are the feelings +by which a handful of Greeks broke in +pieces the power of Persia: they have, by turns, +humbled Austria, reduced Spain; and in the +fens of the Dutch, and on the mountains of the +Swiss, defended the happiness, and revenged +the oppressions of man! God calls all the +passions out in their keenness and vigor for the +present safety of mankind. Anger, and revenge, +and the heroic mind, and a readiness to suffer; +all the secret strength, all the invisible array of +the feelings, all that nature has reserved for the +great scenes of the world. For the usual hopes +and the common aids of man are all gone! +Kings have perished, armies are subdued, nations +mouldered away! Nothing remains, under God, +but those passions which have often proved the +best ministers of His vengeance, and the surest +protectors of the world.</p> + +<p>In that, and similar passages, a sustained +feeling and expression not ordinarily associated +with Sydney Smith, impresses the reader with its +unaffected eloquence and emotion. We close +the book reluctantly, for we leave many things +unquoted that had the most forcibly impressed +us. In the two chapters on the conduct of the +understanding, there are most masterly disquisitions +on labor and study as connected with the +manifestations of genius; on the importance of +men adhering to the particular line of their +powers or talents, and on the tendency of all +varieties of human accomplishment to the same +great object of exalting and gladdening life. +We would also particularly mention a happy and +noble recommendation of the uses of classical +study at the close of the chapter on the sublime.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>YOUNG POET'S PLAINT.</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">God, release our dying sister!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beauteous blight hath sadly kiss'd her<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whiter than the wild, white roses,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Famine in her face discloses<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mute submission, patience holy,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Passing fair! but passing slowly.<br /></span> +</div><br /><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Though she said, "You know I'm dying."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In her heart green trees are sighing;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not of them hath pain bereft her,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the city, where we left her:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Bring," she said, "a hedgeside blossom!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Love shall lay it on her bosom.<br /></span> +<span class="i12"><span class="smcap">Elliott.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="smcap">Alexander after the retreat from +Lutzen</span>.—"The Emperor of Russia passed the +night of the battle at Pegau, whither his britcka +containing his papers and camp-bed had been +brought; and, after having been twenty-four +hours on horseback, Lord Cathcart and his +staff found the bare floor of a cottage so comfortable +a couch, without even the luxury of +straw, that no one seemed in a hurry to rise +when we were informed soon after daylight, +that his imperial majesty was about to mount +and depart, and that the enemy were approaching +to dislodge us. The emperor slowly rode +some miles toward the rear, along the Altenburg +road, conversing with Lord Cathcart about +the battle: he laid great stress upon the report +of the commandant of artillery as to the want +of ammunition, which he assigned as the principal +reason for not renewing the action; he +spoke of the result as a victory gained on our +side; and it was afterward the fashion in the +army to consider it as such, though not perhaps +a victory so important in its consequences, +or so decisive as could have been wished. At +length the emperor observed that he did not +like to be seen riding, fast to the rear, and that it was +now necessary for him to go to Dresden with all expedition, +and prepare for ulterior operations: he +then entered his little traveling-carriage, which +was drawn by relays of Cossack horses, and +proceeded by Altenburg to Penig."—<i>Cathcart.</i><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3>[From the Dublin University Magazine.]</h3> + +<h2>SONNETS FROM THE ITALIAN.</h2> + + +<h3><span class="smcap">upon the death of the redeemer</span>.</h3> + +<h3><span class="smcap">by minzoni</span>.</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When, in that last, loud wail, the Son of God<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Rent open graves and shook the mountain's steep—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Adam, affrighted from his world-long sleep,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Raised up his head; then stark and upright stood:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With fear and wonder filled, he moved around<br /></span> +<span class="i1">His troubled eyes—then asked, with throbbing heart,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Who was that awful One who hung apart,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gore-stained and lifeless, on the curst tree bound.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Soon as he learned, his penitent hand defiled<br /></span> +<span class="i1">His shriveled brow and bloodless cheeks, and tore<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The hoary locks that streamed his shoulders o'er.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Turning to Eve, in lamentation wild,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">He cried, 'till Calvary echoed to the cry—<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">"Woman! for thee I've given my Lord to die!"</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><span class="smcap">two sonnets on judas</span>.</h3> + +<h3><span class="smcap">by monti</span>.</h3> + +<h4><span class="smcap">i</span>.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Down on the Temple-floor the traitor flung<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The infamous bribe for which he sold the Lord,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Then in despair rushed forth, and with a cord,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From out the tree, his reprobate body hung.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pent in his throat, the struggling spirit poured<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A mingled sound of rage and wildest grief,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And Christ it cursed, and its own sin in chief,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which glutted hell with triumphs so abhorred.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Forth with a howl at last the spirit fled.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Then Justice bore it to the holy mount,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And dipping there her finger in the fount<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Christ's all-sacred blood, the sentence dread<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wrote on its brow of everlasting woe,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then, loathing, plunged it into hell below.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<h4><span class="smcap">ii</span>.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Down into hell that wretched soul she flung,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">When lo! a mighty earthquake shook the ground;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The mountain reeled. The wind swept fierce around<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The black and strangled body where it hung.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From Calvary at eve, the angels wending,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">On slow, hushed wing, their holy vigil o'er,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Saw it afar, and swift their white wings, blending<br /></span> +<span class="i1">With trembling fear, their pure eyes spread before.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Meanwhile fiends pluck the corse down in the gloom,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And on their burning shoulders, as a bier,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Convey the burden to its nameless doom.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Cursing and howling, downward thus they steer<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their hell-ward course, and in its depths restore<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The wandering soul to its damned corse once more.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><span class="smcap">sonnet upon judas</span>.</h3> + +<h3><span class="smcap">by gianni</span>.</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Spent with the struggles of his mad despair,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Judas hung gasping from the fatal tree;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then swift the tempter-fiend sprang on him there,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Flapping his flame-red wings exultingly.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With griping claws he clutched the noose that bound<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The traitor's throat, and hurled him down below,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Where hell's hot depths, incessant bubbling glow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His burning flesh and crackling bones around:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There, mid the gloomy shades, asunder riven<br /></span> +<span class="i1">By storm and lurid flame, was <span class="smcap">Satan</span> seen;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Relaxing his stern brow, with hideous grin.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Within his dusky arms the wretch he caught,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And with smutched lips, fuliginous and hot,<br /></span> +<span class="i1"><i>Repaid the kiss which he to Christ had given.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>THE CHARACTER OF BURNS.</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">by ebenezer elliott</span>.</h3> + + +<p>Perhaps no falsehood has been more frequently +repeated, than that men of genius +are less fortunate and less virtuous than other +men; but the obvious truth, that they who attempt +little are less liable to failure than they +who attempt much, will account for the proverbial +good luck of fools. In our estimate of +the sorrows and failings of literary men, we +forget that sorrow is the common lot; we forget, +too, that the misfortunes and the errors of +men of genius are recorded; and that, although +their virtues may be utterly forgotten, their +minutest faults will be sure to find zealous historians. +And this is as it should be. Let the +dead instruct us. But slanderers blame, in +individuals, what belongs to the species. "We +women," says Clytemnestra in Eschylus, when +meditating the murder of her husband, and in +reply to an attendant who was praising the +gentleness of the sex, "We women are—what +we are." So is it with us all. Then let every +fault of men of genius be known; but let not +hypocrisy come with a sponge, and wipe away +their virtues.</p> + +<p>Of the misfortunes of Cowper we have all +heard, and certainly he was unfortunate, for he +was liable to fits of insanity. But it might be +said of him, that he was tended through life by +weeping angels. Warm-hearted friends watched +and guarded him with intense and unwearied +solicitude; the kindest hearted of the softer +sex, the best of the best, seems to have been +born only to anticipate his wants. A glance at +the world, will show us that his fate, though +sad, was not saddest; for how many madmen are +there, and how many men still more unfortunate +than madmen, who have no living-creature to +aid, or soothe, or pity them! Think of Milton—"blind +among enemies!"</p> + +<p>But the saddest incident in the life of Cowper<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span> +remains to be told. In his latter days, he was +pensioned by the crown—a misfortune which I +can forgive to him, but not to destiny. It is +consoling to think, that he was not long conscious +of his degradation after the cruel kindness +was inflicted on him. But why did not +his friends, if weary of sustaining their kinsman +stricken by the arrows of the Almighty, suffer +him to perish in a <i>beggars'</i> mad-house? Would +he had died in a ditch rather than this shadow +had darkened over his grave! Burns was +more fortunate in his death than Cowper: he +lived self-supported to the end. Glorious hearted +Burns! Noble, but unfortunate Cowper!</p> + +<p>Burns was one of the few poets fit to be seen. +It has been asserted that genius is a disease—the +malady of physical inferiority. It is certain +that we have heard of Pope, the hunchback: of +Scott and Byron, the cripples: of the epileptic +Julius Cæsar, who, it is said, never planned a +great battle without going into fits; and of +Napoleon, whom a few years of trouble killed: +where Cobbett (a man of talent, not of genius) +would have melted St. Helena, rather than have +given up the ghost with a full belly. If Pope +could have leaped over five-barred gates, he +probably would not have written his inimitable +sofa-and-lap-dog poetry; but it does not follow +that he would not have written the "Essay on +Man;" and they who assert that genius is a +physical disease, should remember that, as true +critics are more rare than true poets, we having +only one in our language, William Hazlitt, so, +very tall and complete men are as rare as genius +itself, a fact well known to persons who have +the appointment of constables. And if it is undeniable +that God wastes nothing, and that we, +therefore, perhaps seldom find a gigantic body +combined with a soul of Æolian tones; it is +equally undeniable, that Burns was an exception +to the rule—a man of genius, tall, strong, and +handsome, as any man that could be picked out +of a thousand at a country fair.</p> + +<p>But he was unfortunate, we are told. Unfortunate! +He was a tow-heckler who cleared +six hundred pounds by the sale of his poems: +of which sum he left two hundred pounds behind +him, in the hands of his brother Gilbert: two +facts which prove that he could neither be so +unfortunate, nor so imprudent, as we are told +he was. If he had been a mere tow-heckler, +I suspect he would never have possessed six +hundred shillings.</p> + +<p>But he <i>was</i> imprudent, it is said. Now, he +is a wise man who has done one act that influences +beneficially his whole life. Burns did +three such acts—he wrote poetry—he published +it; and, despairing of his farm, he became an +exciseman. It is true he did one imprudent +act; and, I hope, the young persons around me +will be warned by it; he took a farm, without +thoroughly understanding the business of farming.</p> + +<p>It does not appear that he wasted or lost +any capital, except what he threw away on his +farm. He was unlucky, but not imprudent in +giving it up when he did. Had he held it a +little longer, the Bank Restriction Act would +have enriched him at the expense of his landlord; +but Burns was an honest man, and, therefore, +alike incapable of desiring and foreseeing +that enormous villainy.</p> + +<p>But he was neglected, we are told. Neglected! +No strong man in good health <i>can</i> be +neglected, if he is true to himself. For the +benefit of the young, I wish we had a correct +account of the number of persons who fail of +success, in a thousand that resolutely strive to +do well. I do not think it exceeds one per +cent. By whom was Burns neglected? Certainly +not by the people of Scotland: for they +paid him the highest compliment that can be +paid to an author: they bought his book! Oh, +but he ought to have been pensioned. Pensioned! +Can not we think of poets without +thinking of pensions? <i>Are</i> they such poor +creatures, that they can not earn an honest +living? Let us hear no more of such degrading +and insolent nonsense.</p> + +<p>But he was a drunkard, it is said. I do not +mean to exculpate him when I say that he was +probably no worse, in that respect, than his +neighbors; for he <i>was</i> worse if he was not better +than they, the balance being against him; +and his Almighty Father would not fail to say +to him, "What didst thou with the lent talent?" +But drunkenness, in his time, was the vice of his +country—it is so still; and if the traditions of +Dumfries are to be depended on, there are allurements +which Burns was much less able to +resist than those of the bottle; and the supposition +of his frequent indulgence in the crimes +to which those allurements lead, is incompatible +with that of his habitual drunkenness.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="smcap">Of Delays</span>.—Fortune is like the market +where, many times, if you can stay a little, the +price will fall; and again, it is sometimes like +the Sibyl's offer, who at first offereth the commodity +at full, then consumeth part and part, +and still holdeth up the price.... There is +surely no greater wisdom than well to time the +beginnings and onsets of things. Dangers are +no more light if they once seem light: and more +dangers have deceived men than forced them. +Nay, it were better to meet some dangers half-way, +though they come nothing near, than to +keep too long a watch upon their approaches; +for if a man watch too long, it is odds he will +fall asleep. On the other side, to be deceived +with too long shadows—as some have been, +when the moon was low and shone on their +enemies, and so to shoot off before the time—or +to teach dangers to come on, by an over-early +buckling toward them, is another extreme. The +ripeness or unripeness of the occasion must ever +be well weighed; and, generally, it is good to +commit the beginnings of all great actions to +Argus with his hundred eyes, and the ends to +Briareus with his hundred hands; first to watch, +and then to speed.—<i>Lord Bacon.</i><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3>[From the London Examiner.]</h3> + +<h2>THE PARIS ELECTION.</h2> + + +<p>All Paris is absorbed in the contest between +the stationer Leclerc and Eugene Sue the +novelist. Strange it is that the party which +pretends to superior intelligence and refinement, +should have put forward as their candidate +merely a specimen of constabulary violence, an +honest policemen, in fact; while the party accused +of consisting of the mere dregs of society +has selected for its representative one of the +most refined and searching intellects of the day. +If ever a man became a Socialist from conviction, +it has been Sue; for his writings clearly +show the progress and the changes of his mind. +From depicting high society and influences he +acquired a disgust for them; by diving among +the vulgar, he discovered virtues whose existence +he did not suspect. And though the conclusions +he has drawn are erroneous, they would seem +to be sincere.</p> + +<p>It is remarkable indeed to observe how all +the great literary geniuses of the day in France +have taken the popular side. We know how +boldly Lamartine plunged into it. Victor Hugo has +taken the same part, and Eugene Sue. Alexandre +Dumas, though in the employ of Louis +Philippe in 1830, soon flung aside court livery and +conservatism. Emile de Girardin, another man +of first rate literary ability, is decidedly Socialist. +Beranger, as far as age will permit him, is a +stern republican. When a cause thus attracts +and absorbs all the floating talent of a country, +there is a vitality and respectability in it, more +than we are at present inclined to allow to +French democratic parties.</p> + +<p>That the intellect, that is, the entire working +intelligence of the country, has labored on the +Democratic, and, we fear even on the Socialist +side, is too evident from the fact that the opinions +of the latter have gained ground, and not +retrograded even in the provinces, where property +is subdivided, and where there are few of +the indigent classes. In no place is property +more generally possessed that in the South of +France; and there the results of the last two +years have been certainly to strengthen democratic +ideas, and to make monarchic ones decline. +There is no mistaking, indeed, in what +direction the current of ideas has set.</p> + +<p>The Conservatives, or Monarchists, or the old +political class, whatever one pleases to call them, +begin to perceive that they are beaten in the +intellectual, the argumentative struggle. They +therefore make an appeal to arms. This is evident +in all their acts, arguments, and movements. +Their efforts are directed to crush the press, +proscribe and imprison writers, and abolish meetings +and speeches, except those delivered in their +own clubs. They give the universities over to +the Jesuits, and elect for the Assembly no longer +orators, but stout soldiers. Changarnier is the +Alpha, and Leclerc the Omega of such a party. +Strategy is its policy. It meditates no question +of political economy or of trade, but bethinks +it how streets are best defended, and how towns +are fortified against themselves. A War Minister, +a Tax Minister, and a Police Minister—these +form the head Cabinet of France. As to +foreign policy, trade policy, and the other paraphernalia +of government, all this is as much +a sham and a humbug, as an assembly must +be of which the majority is marshaled and instructed +in a club, before it dares proceed to its duties +of legislation.</p> + +<p>The entire tendency is to change an intellectual +and argumentative into a physical struggle. +What events may occur, and what fortune +prevail in a war of this kind, it is utterly impossible +to foretell. For, after all, the results of +war depend infinitely upon chance, and still +more on the talent of the leader which either +party may choose to give itself. Nor is it always +the one which conquers first that maintains +its ascendency to the last. A war of this +kind in France would evidently have many soldiers +enlisted on either side, and soldiers in that +country make excellent officers. The Conservatives +seem to think that the strife will be +decided, as of old, in the streets of Paris; and +they look to the field of battle, and prepare for +it, with a forethought and a vigilance as sanguinary +and destructive as it is determined. +We doubt, however, whether any quantity of +street-fighting in the metropolis can decide a +quarrel which becomes every day more embittered +and more universal. Socialism will not be +put down in a night, nor yet in three days; no +nor, we fear, even in a campaign.</p> + +<p>Looking on the future in this light, it appears +to us of trifling moment whether M. Leclerc +or M. Sue carry the Paris election. Some +thousand voters, more or less, on this side or on +that, is no decision. The terrible fact is, the +almost equal division of French society into two +camps, either of which makes too formidable a minority +to put up with defeat and its consequences, +without one day or other taking up arms to +advance fresh pretensions and defend new claims.</p> + + +<p><a name="Page_116a" id="Page_116a"></a></p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Hemans.</span>—She reminds us of a poet +just named, and whom she passionately admired, +namely, Shelley. Like him, drooping, fragile, a +reed shaken by the wind, a mighty mind, in +sooth, too powerful for the tremulous reed on +which it discoursed its music—like him, the +victim of exquisite nervous organization—like +him, verse flowed on and from her, and the +sweet sound often overpowered the meaning, +kissing it, as it were, to death; like him she was +melancholy, but the sadness of both was musical, +tearful, active, not stony, silent and motionless, +still less misanthropical and disdainful; like him +she was gentle, playful, they could both run about +their prison garden, and dally with the dark chains +which they knew bound them to death. Mrs. +Hemans was not indeed a <i>Vates</i>, she has never +reached his heights, nor sounded his depths, yet +they are, to our thought, so strikingly alike as to +seem brother and sister, in one beautiful but delicate +and dying family.—<i>Gilfillan.</i><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>THE POPE AT HOME AGAIN.</h2> + + +<p>The Pope has returned to Rome, but the Papacy +is not reinstated. The past can not be +recalled. When Pius the Ninth abandoned the +territorial seat of the Papal power, he relinquished +the post that preserved to that power its +place of command throughout many parts of +Europe. It was the "Pope <i>of Rome</i>" to whom +the many did homage, and the Pope could only +be deemed to be "<i>of</i> Rome" so long as he was +<i>at</i> Rome: for there can be no doubt that a +great part of the spiritual influence possessed +by the Sovereign Pontiff has been indissolubly +connected with the temporal sovereignty and +territorial abode of the Pontificate. Even after +his dispossession, for a time, no doubt, heart +might have been kept up among his more refined +and cultivated followers; but the most faithful +peoples have always demanded a tangible standard +or beacon of their faith—a pillar of fire or a +visible church. When Pius left Rome, the rock +became tenantless; the mansion of St. Peter was +vacant; a Pope in lodgings was no Pope of +Europe. And so it was felt.</p> + +<p>But the bodily restoration of Pius the Ninth +to the capital of his states is not the restoration +of the Pope to his spiritual throne. That can +no more be effected. The riddle has been read, +in these terrible days of reading and writing—so +different from the days when a Papal rustication +at Avignon disturbed the Catholic world, +and verily shook the Papacy to its foundations +even then. Some accounts describe the Pope's +return as a triumph, and relate how the Romans +submitted themselves in obedient ecstasy to his +blessing: it is not true—it is not in the nature +of things. It is easy to get up an array of +popular feeling, as in a theatre, which shall make +a show—a frontage of delight; easy to hire +twelve beggars that their feet may be washed. +Mr. Anderson of Drury Lane can furnish any +amount of popular feeling or pious awe at a +shilling a head; and the managers know these +things in Rome, where labor is much cheaper +than with us. Pius returned to Rome under +cover of the French bayonets, to find a people +cowed and sulky—contrasting their traditions +with the presence of the Gaul, remembering in +bitterness the days before the Papacy, and imputing +this crowning finish of their disgrace to +the Pope forced back upon them.</p> + +<p>Even were the people for a moment pleased +to see the well-meaning and most unfortunate +old man, the days of his inscrutable power are +over. Nothing can again be inscrutable that +he can hold. While he was away, the tongue +of Rome was let loose, and can he make the +ear of Rome forget what it heard in those days +of license? Can he undo the knowledge which +men then attained of each other, and their suppressed +ideas? Assuredly not. When he left +the keys of St. Peter in his flight, men unlocked +the door of the sanctuary, and found out his secret—that +it was bare. Political bondage to +them will be, not the renewal of pious ignorance, +but the rebinding of limbs that have learned to +be free.</p> + +<p>Nay, were Rome to resume her subjection, +the past has been too much broken up elsewhere +for a quiet return to the old régime, even in +Italy. The ecclesiastical courts have been +abolished in Piedmont, and the Sardinian states +henceforth stand in point of free discussion on a +level with Germany, if not with France. The +Pope will be fain to permit more in Genoa or +Turin than the eating of eggs during Lent—to +permit a canvassing of Papal authority fatal to its +existence. But in Tuscany, for many generations, +a spirit of free discussion has existed among the +educated classes: the reforming spirit of Ricci +has never died in the capital of Tuscany, and the +memory of Leopold protected the freedom of +thought: a sudden and a new value has been +given to that prepared state of the Tuscan mind +by the existence of free institutions in Piedmont. +Giusti will no longer need to traverse the frontier +of Italy in search of a printer. With free +discussion in two of the Italian states, Milan +will not be deaf, nor Naples without a whisper. +Italy <i>must</i> sooner or later get to know her own +mind, and then the Bishop of Rome will have +to devise a new position for himself.</p> + +<p>Abroad, in Catholic Europe, there is the same +disruption between the past and the future. +The Archbishop of Cologne exposed, in his +rashness, the waning sanctity of the Church; +the Neo-Catholics have exposed its frangible +condition. Sectarian distinctions are torn to +pieces in Hungary by the temporal conflicts, and +the dormant spirit of a national Protestantism +survives in sullen hatred to alien rule. Austria +proper is pledged to any course of political expediency +which may defer the evil day of Imperial +accountability, and will probably, in waxing +indifferency, see fit to put Lombardy on a spiritual +par with Piedmont. France is precarious +in her allegiance. Two countries alone remain +in unaltered relation to the See of Rome—Spain, +the most bigoted of the children of Rome; and +Ireland, the most faithful. But Ireland is impotent. +And to this day Spain asserts, and preserves, +the <i>national</i> independence which she +has retained throughout the most arrogant days +of Romish supremacy, throughout the tyrant +régime of Torquemada. Even court intrigue +dares not prostitute the <i>nationality</i> of Spain to +Roman influence. Rome is the talk of the +world, and the return of Pius to the Vatican +can not restore the silent submission of the faithful. +He is but to be counted among the "fashionable +arrivals."—<i>London Spectator.</i></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="smcap">Civil Liberty defined.</span>—This is not the +liberty which we can hope, that no grievance +ever should arise in the commonwealth; that let +no man in this world expect; but when complaints +are freely heard, deeply considered, and +speedily reformed, then is the utmost bound of +civil liberty attained that wise men look for.—<i>John +Milton.</i><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3>[From the London Examiner.]</h3> + +<h2>THE AUSTRALIAN COLONIES.</h2> + + +<p>The Jutland and Sleswick pirates, who fourteen +centuries ago performed the great achievement +of conquering and colonizing Britain, have +since, in the persons of their descendants, +achieved the still greater feat of colonizing and +settling, while they are in a fair way of conquering +and occupying, a whole continent, to the +destruction or absorption of every other race. +The Anglo-Saxon population of America, in fact, +constitutes, at this moment, a people more +numerous and mighty than any European nation +of the period when their emigration commenced. +The very same people is now engaged in achieving +another great, although not equally great +enterprise, the colonization of another continent, +Australia; and the Australian colonies, within +sixty years of their first foundation, are already +calling loudly for self and responsible government, +which is, by more than a century, sooner +than the American Colonies made a similar +claim. We have not the least doubt but that it +will be to the mutual and permanent advantage +of both parties, that these demands of the +Colonists, which are in no respect unreasonable, +should be liberally and readily granted.</p> + +<p>The better to understand our position in relation +to them, let us compare the two continents +alluded to. America has a greater extent of +territory, and therefore more room for expansion +than Australia. Its natural products are more +valuable, its soil is more fertile, and its climates +more varied and propitious to vegetation. Its +greatest superiority over Australia, however, +consists in its magnificent water communication—its +great rivers, its splendid lakes, its navigable +estuaries, and its commodious harbors. Finally, +it possesses the vast advantage of being only one-sixth +part of the distance that Australia is from +the civilization and markets of Europe.</p> + +<p>Let us now see what Australia is. It is said +to contain three millions of square miles. But +of this we take it that about one-half, or all of it +that lies north of the twenty-fifth degree of south +latitude, is unfit for our use as Europeans, and, +most probably, for the profitable use of any +people, on account of the comparative sterility +of the land, or, what in such a situation is +equivalent to sterility, the drought of the climate. +But for these great and, we fear, insuperable +disadvantages, the tropical portion of Australia +might have been peopled from industrious and +teeming China, which, with the help of steam +navigation, is at an easy distance. Notwithstanding +this serious deduction from its available +area, Australia has extent enough for the abode +of a great people, as what remains is equal to +near twenty Britains, or above seven countries as +large as France!</p> + +<p>The absence of good water communication is +the greatest defect of Australia. It has not one +great river which at once penetrates deeply into +the country and communicates by a navigable +course with the sea. The best of its rivers are +not equal to those of the fourth or fifth order in +America, and it has no lake at all of commercial +value. Another almost equally great disadvantage +is frequent and long-continued droughts, +even of its southern parts, which, however, as +strength and wealth increase, may in time be, +at least, mitigated by the erection of great works +of irrigation, such as those on which the existence +of whole populations depend in the warmer +regions of Asia.</p> + +<p>In salubrity of climate Australia has a great +superiority, not only over America, but over +every other country. For the rearing of sheep +and the production of fine wool, it may be said +to possess almost a natural monopoly; and in +this respect, it will soon become as necessary to +us, and probably as important, as America is for +the growth of cotton. Its adaptation for pastoral +husbandry is such, indeed, that we have often +thought, had it been settled by Tartars or Arabs, +or even by Anglo-Saxons of the time of Hengist +and Horsa, that it would have been now thinly +inhabited by nomade hordes, mere shepherds +and robbers, if there was any one to rob. One +immense advantage Australia possesses over +America, which must not be omitted—the total +absence of a servile population and an alien race. +In America the bondsmen form a fourth part +of the whole population, and in Australia little +more than one sixtieth, speedily to vanish all +together.</p> + +<p>If the comparison between America and +Australia have reference to the facility of +achieving and maintaining independence, all +the advantages are unquestionably on the side +of Australia. It is at least six times as far +away from Europe; and a military force sufficient +to have even a chance of coercing the +colonists could not get at them in less than four +months, while the voyage would force it to run +the gauntlet of the equator and both tropics. +When it reached its destination, supposing its +landing to be unopposed, it would have to march +every step to seek the insurgents, for there is +neither river nor estuary to transport it into the +interior of the country. The colonists, rifle in +hand, and driving their flocks and herds before +them to the privation of the invader, would of +course take to the bush, and do so with impunity, +being without tents or equipage, or risk of +starvation, having a wholesome sky over their +heads, and abundant food in their cattle. With +a thorough knowledge of localities, the colonial +riflemen, under such circumstances, would be +more than a match for regular troops, and could +pick off soldiers with more ease than they bring +down the kangaroo or opossum.</p> + +<p>We should look, however, to the number and +character of the Australian population. In 1828 +the total colonial population of Australia was +53,000, of whom a large proportion were convicts. +In 1848 it was 300,000, of which the +convicts were but 6000. In the two years +since, 37,000 emigrants have proceeded thither, +and the total population at this moment can not +be less than 350,000. It has, therefore, been<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span> +multiplied in twenty-two years' time by near +seven-fold; and if it should go on at this rate of +increase, in the year 1872 it will amount to +close on two millions and a half, which is a +greater population than that of the old American +colonies at the declaration of independence, and +after an existence of 175 years. Such a population, +or the one half of it, would, from numbers, +position, and resources, be unconquerable.</p> + +<p>Such is a true picture, we conceive, of the +position in which we stand in relation to our +Australian colonies. Meanwhile, the colonists +are loyal, affectionate, and devoted, and (the +result of absence and distance) with really +warmer feelings toward the mother country than +those they left behind them. It will be the part +of wisdom on our side to keep them in this +temper. They demand nothing that is unreasonable—nothing +that it is not equally for +their advantage and ours that we should promptly +and freely concede. They ask for responsible +government, and doing so they ask for no more +than what is possessed by their fellow-citizens. +They ought to have perfect power over their +own resources and their own expenditure; but, +in justice and fairness, they ought also to defray +their own military charges; and, seeing they +have neither within nor without any enemy that +can cope with a company of light infantry, the +cost ought not to be oppressive to them.</p> + +<p>The Australian colonies are, at present, governed +in a fashion to produce discontent and +recalcitration. They are, consequently, both +troublesome and expensive. The nation absolutely +gains nothing by them that it would not +gain, and even in a higher degree, were they +self-governed, or, for that matter, were they +even independent. Thus, emigration to them +would go on at least in the same degree as it +does now. It does so go on, to the self-governed +colony of Canada, and to the country +which was once colonies, and this after a virtual +separation of three quarters of a century.</p> + +<p>In like manner will our commercial intercourse +with the Australian colonies proceed under self-government. +In 1828, the whole exports of +Australia amounted only to the paltry sum of +£181,000, and in 1845, the last for which there +is a return, they had come to £2,187,633, or +in seventeen years' time, had been increased by +above fourteen-fold, a rapidity of progress to +which there is no parallel. At this ratio, of +course, they can not be expected to proceed in +future; for the Australians, having coal, iron, +and wool in abundance, will soon learn to make +coarse fabrics for themselves. The finer they +will long receive from us, as America, after its +long separation, still does. But that the Australian +Colonies, under any circumstances, are +destined to become one of the greatest marts of +British commerce, may be considered as a matter +of certainty. The only good market in the +world, for the wool, the tallow, the train oil, +and the copper ore of Australia, is England; +and to England they must come, even if Australia +were independent to-morrow; and they +must be paid for, too, in British manufactures. +Independence has never kept the tobacco of +America from finding its best market in England, +nor has it prevented American cotton +from becoming the greatest of the raw materials +imported by England.</p> + +<p>A common lineage, a common language, +common manners, customs, laws, and institutions, +bind us and our Australian brethren together, +and will continue to do so, perhaps +longer than the British Constitution itself will +last. They form, in fact, a permanent bond of +union; whereas the influence of patronage, and +the trickeries of Conservative legislation, do but +provoke and hasten the separation which they +are foolishly framed to prevent.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3>[From the Dublin University Magazine.]</h3> + +<h2>JEWISH VENERATION.</h2> + + +<p>The veneration of the Jew for the law is +displayed by the grossest superstition, a +copy of the Torah or Decalogue being carefully +soldered into a narrow tin case, and hung over +the entrance to their chambers, as old crones +with us nail a horse-shoe to a door; it is even +believed to avail as an amulet or charm capable +of averting evil, or curing the most obstinate +disease. "Ah," said a bed-ridden old Hebrew +woman to me, as I visited the mission hospital +in Jerusalem, "what can the doctors do for me? +If I could only touch the Torah I should be made +whole." Not exactly comprehending what she +meant, I handed her a little tin-cased copy of +the Ten Commandments; she grasped it in her +emaciated hands, which trembled with anxiety, +and her eyes were lit up with a transient gleam +of joy. "Are you made whole?" I inquired; +she made no answer, fell back on her pillow, +let drop the Torah, and turned from me with a +sigh.</p> + +<p>Sitting one evening with an intelligent German +Jew, who used often to pay me a visit at +my lodgings, the conversation turned on Jewish +religious rites and ceremonies. Alluding to the +day of atonement, he assured me that on that +day the Jews believe that ministers are appointed +in heaven for the ensuing year: a minister +over angels; one over the stars; one over earth; +the winds, trees, plants, birds, beasts, fishes, +men, and so forth.</p> + +<p>That, on that day also, the good and evil +deeds of every son of Abraham are actually +summed up, and the balance struck for or +against each, individually. Where the evil deeds +preponderate, such individuals are brought in as +in debt to the law; and ten days after the day +of atonement, summonses are issued to call the +defaulters before God. When these are served, +the party summoned to appear is visited either +with sudden death or a rapid and violent disease +which must terminate speedily in death. "But +can not the divine wrath be appeased?" said I. +"Not appeased," said my informant; "<i>the decree +must be evaded</i>." "How so?" "Thus," +he replied. "When a Jew is struck with sudden<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span> +sickness about this time, if he apprehends +that his call is come, he sends immediately for +twelve elders of his people; they demand his +name; he tells them, for example, my name is +Isaac; they answer, thy name shall no more be +Isaac, but Jacob shall thy name be called. Then +kneeling round the sick roan, they pray for him +in these words: O God, thy servant, Isaac, has +not good deeds to exceed the evil, and a summons +against him has gone forth; but this pious +man before thee, is named Jacob, and not Isaac. +There is a flaw in the indictment; the name in +the angel's summons is not correct, therefore, +thy servant Jacob can not be called on to appear." +"After all," said I, "suppose this Jacob +dies." "Then," replied my companion, +"<i>the Almighty is unjust</i>; the summons was irregular, +and its execution not according to law."</p> + +<p>Does not this appear incredible? Another +anecdote, and I have done.</p> + +<p>On the same occasion we were speaking +about vows, and the obligation of fulfilling them. +"As to paying your vow," said my Jewish +friend, "we consider it performed, if the vow +be observed to the letter." He then gave me +the following rather ludicrous illustration as a +case in point: There was in his native village +a wealthy Jew, who was seized with a dangerous +illness. Seeing death approach, despite of +his physician's skill, he bethought him of vowing +a vow; so he solemnly promised, that if +God would restore him to health, he, on his +part, on his recovery, would sell a certain fat +beast in his stall, and devote the proceeds to the +Lord.</p> + +<p>The man recovered, and in due time appeared +before the door of the synagogue, driving before +him a goodly ox, and carrying under one arm a +large, black Spanish cock. The people were +coming out of the synagogue, and several Jewish +butchers, after artistically examining the +fine, fat beast, asked our convalescent what +might be the price of the ox. "This ox," replied +the owner, "I value at <i>two shillings</i> (I +substitute English money); but the cock," he +added, ostentatiously exhibiting chanticleer, "I +estimate at <i>twenty pounds</i>." The butchers +laughed at him; they thought he was in joke. +However, as he gravely persisted that he was +in earnest, one of them, taking him at his word, +put down two shillings for the ox. "Softly, +my good friend," rejoined the seller, "<i>I have +made a vow not to sell the ox without the cock</i>; +you must buy both, or be content with neither." +Great was the surprise of the bystanders, who +could not conceive what perversity possessed +their wealthy neighbor. But the cock being +value for two shillings, and the ox for twenty +pounds, the bargain was concluded, and the +money paid.</p> + +<p>Our worthy Jew now walks up to the Rabbi, +cash in hand. "This," said he, handing the +two shillings, "I devote to the service of the +synagogue, being the price of the ox, which I +had vowed; and this, placing the twenty pounds +in his own bosom, is lawfully mine own, for is +it not the price of the cock?" "And what did +your neighbors say of the transaction? Did they +not think this rich man an arrant rogue?" +"Rogue!" said my friend, repeating my last +words with some amazement, "they considered +him a pious and a <i>clever</i> man." Sharp enough, +thought I; but delicate about exposing my ignorance, +I judiciously held my peace.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3>[From Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine.]</h3> + +<h2>THE MODERN ARGONAUTS.</h2> + + +<h4><span class="smcap">i.</span></h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">You have heard the ancient story,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">How the gallant sons of Greece,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Long ago, with Jason ventured<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For the fated Golden Fleece;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">How they traversed distant regions,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">How they trod on hostile shores;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">How they vexed the hoary Ocean<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With the smiting of their oars;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Listen, then, and you shall hear another wondrous tale,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of a second Argo steering before a prosperous gale!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<h4><span class="smcap">ii.</span></h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">From the southward came a rumor,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Over sea and over land;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">From the blue Ionian islands,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the old Hellenic strand,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That the sons of Agamemnon,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To their faith no longer true,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Had confiscated the carpets<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of a black and bearded Jew!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Helen's rape, compared to this, was but an idle toy,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Deeper guilt was that of Athens than the crime of haughty Troy.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<h4><span class="smcap">iii.</span></h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">And the rumor, winged by Ate,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To the lofty chamber ran,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Where great Palmerston was sitting<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In the midst of his Divan:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Like Saturnius triumphant,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In his high Olympian hall,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Unregarded by the mighty,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But detested by the small;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Overturning constitutions—setting nations by the ears,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With divers sapient plenipos, like Minto and his peers.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<h4><span class="smcap">iv.</span></h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">With his fist the proud dictator<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Smote the table that it rang—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">From the crystal vase before him<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The blood-red wine upsprang!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">"Is my sword a wreath of rushes,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or an idle plume my pen,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That they dare to lay a finger<br /></span> +<span class="i2">On the meanest of my men?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No amount of circumcision can annul the Briton's right—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are they mad, these lords of Athens, for I know they can not fight?<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span></p> + +<h4><span class="smcap">v.</span></h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"Had the wrong been done by others,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">By the cold and haughty Czar,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">I had trembled ere I opened<br /></span> +<span class="i2">All the thunders of my war.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But I care not for the yelping<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of these fangless curs of Greece—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Soon and sorely will I tax them<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For the merchant's plundered Fleece.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From the earth his furniture for wrath and vengeance cries—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ho, Eddisbury! take thy pen, and straightway write to Wyse!"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<h4><span class="smcap">vi.</span></h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Joyfully the bells are ringing<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In the old Athenian town,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Gayly to Piræus harbor<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Stream the merry people down;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">For they see the fleet of Britain<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Proudly steering to their shore,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Underneath the Christian banner<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That they knew so well of yore,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When the guns at Navarino thundered o'er the sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the Angel of the North proclaimed that Greece again was free.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<h4><span class="smcap">vii.</span></h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Hark!—a signal gun—another!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">On the deck a man appears<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Stately as the Ocean-shaker—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Ye Athenians, lend your ears!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thomas Wyse am I, a herald<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Come to parley with the Greek;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Palmerston hath sent me hither,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In his awful name I speak—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ye have done a deed of folly—one that ye shall sorely rue!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wherefore did ye lay a finger on the carpets of the Jew?<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<h4><span class="smcap">viii.</span></h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"Don Pacifico of Malta!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Dull indeed were Britain's ear,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">If the wrongs of such a hero<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Tamely she could choose to hear!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Don Pacifico of Malta!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Knight-commander of the Fleece—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">For his sake I hurl defiance<br /></span> +<span class="i2">At the haughty towns of Greece.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Look to it—For by my head! since Xerxes crossed the strait,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ye never saw an enemy so vengeful at your gate.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<h4><span class="smcap">ix.</span></h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"Therefore now, restore the carpets,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With a forfeit twenty-fold;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And a goodly tribute offer<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of your treasure and your gold<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sapienza and the islet<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Cervi, ye shall likewise cede,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">So the mighty gods have spoken,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thus hath Palmerston decreed!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ere the sunset, let an answer issue from your monarch's lips;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the mean time, I have orders to arrest your merchants' ships."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<h4><span class="smcap">x.</span></h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Thus he spoke, and snatched a trumpet<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Swiftly from a soldier's hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And therein he blew so shrilly,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That along the rocky strand<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Rang the war-note, till the echoes<br /></span> +<span class="i2">From the distant hills replied,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hundred trumpets wildly wailing,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Poured their blast on every side;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the loud and hearty shout of Britain rent the skies,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Three cheers for noble Palmerston! another cheer for Wyse!"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<h4><span class="smcap">xi.</span></h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Gentles! I am very sorry<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That I can not yet relate,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of this gallant expedition,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">What has been the final fate.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Whether Athens was bombarded<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For her Jew-coercing crimes,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hath not been as yet reported<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In the columns of the <i>Times</i>.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But the last accounts assure us of some valuable spoil:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Various coasting vessels, laden with tobacco, fruit, and oil.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<h4><span class="smcap">xii.</span></h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Ancient chiefs! that sailed with Jason<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O'er the wild and stormy waves—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Let not sounds of later triumphs<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Stir you in your quiet graves!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Other Argonauts have ventured<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To your old Hellenic shore,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But they will not live in story<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Like the valiant men of yore.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O! 'tis more than shame and sorrow thus to jest upon a theme<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That for Britain's fame and glory, all would wish to be dream!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>MONTHLY RECORD OF CURRENT EVENTS.</h2> + + +<p>THE NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE will +present monthly a digest of all Foreign +Events, Incidents, and Opinions, that may seem to +have either interest or value for the great body of +American readers. Domestic intelligence reaches +every one so much sooner through the Daily +and Weekly Newspapers, that its repetition in +the pages of a Monthly would be dull and profitless. +We shall confine our summary, therefore, +to the events and movements of foreign lands.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>The <span class="smcap">Affairs of France</span> continue to excite +general interest. The election of member of +the Assembly in Paris has been the great European +event of the month. The Socialists +nominated <span class="smcap">Eugene Sue</span>; their opponents, M. +<span class="smcap">Leclerc</span>. The first is known to all the world +as a literary man of great talent, personally a +profligate—wealthy, unprincipled, and unscrupulous. +The latter was a tradesman, distinguished +for nothing but having fought and lost a son +at the barricades, and entirely unqualified for +the post for which he had been put in nomination. +The contest was thus not so much a +struggle between the <i>men</i>, as the <i>parties</i> they +represented; and those parties were not simply +Socialists and Anti-Socialists. Each party included +more than its name would imply. The +Socialists in Paris are all Republicans: it suits +the purposes of the Government to consider all +Republicans as Socialists, inasmuch as it gives +them an admirable opportunity to make war +upon Republicanism, while they seem only to +be resisting Socialism. In this adroit and dangerous +manner <span class="smcap">Louis Napoleon</span> was advancing +with rapid strides toward that absolutism—that +personal domination independent of the Constitution, +which is the evident aim of all his efforts +and all his hopes. He had gone on exercising +the most high-handed despotism, and violating +the most explicit and sacred guarantees of the +Constitution. He had forbidden public meetings, +suppressed public papers, and outraged +private rights, with the most wanton disregard +of those provisions of the Constitution by which +they are expressly guaranteed. The nomination +of <span class="smcap">Eugene Sue</span> was a declaration of hostility +to this unconstitutional dynasty. He was +supported not only by the Socialists proper, but +by all citizens who were in favor of maintaining +the Republic with its constitutional guarantees. +The issue was thus between a Republic and a +Monarchy, between the Constitution and a Revolution. +For days previous to the election this +issue was broadly marked, and distinctly recognized +by all the leading royalist journals, and +the Republic was attacked with all the power +of argument and ridicule. Repressive laws, +and a stronger form of government, which +should bridle the fierce democracy, were clamorously +demanded. The very day before the +polls were opened, the <i>Napoleon</i> journal, which +derives its chief inspiration from the President, +drew a colored parallel between the necessities +of the 18th <i>Brumaire</i>, and those of the present +crisis, and entered into a labored vindication of +all the arbitrary measures which followed <span class="smcap">Bonaparte</span>'s +dissolution of the Assembly, and his +usurpation of the executive power. The most +high-handed expedients were resorted to by the +ministry to assure the success of the coalition. +The sale of all the principal democratic journals +in the streets was interdicted. The legal prosecutions +of the Procureur General virtually reestablished +the censorship of the Press. Placards +in favor of the democratic candidate were +excluded from the street walls, while those of +his opponent were every where emblazoned. +Electoral meetings were prohibited; democratic +merchants and shop-keepers were threatened +with a loss of patronage; and the whole republican +party was officially denounced as a horde +of imbeciles, and knaves, and fanatics. No +means were left unemployed by the reactionists +to secure a victory.</p> + +<p>It was all in vain. On closing the polls the +vote stood thus:</p> + + +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td class="col1"><span class="smcap">Eugene Sue</span></td><td class="col1" align="right">128,007</td></tr> +<tr><td><span class="smcap">M. Leclerc</span></td><td align="right">119,420</td></tr> +<tr><td> </td><td align="right">———</td></tr> +<tr><td align="center"><span class="smcap">Sue</span>'s majority</td><td align="right">8,587</td></tr> +</table> + +<p>And, what is still more startling, <i>four-fifths</i> of +all the votes given by the Army were cast for +<span class="smcap">Sue</span>. The result created a good deal of alarm +in Paris. Stocks fell, and there seemed to be +a general apprehension of an outbreak. If any +such event occurs, however, it will be through +the instigation of the Government. Finding +himself outvoted, <span class="smcap">Louis Napoleon</span> would undoubtedly +be willing to try force. In any event, +we do not believe it will be found possible to +overthrow Republicanism in France.</p> + +<p><a name="Page_122a" id="Page_122a"></a></p> + +<p>Previous to the election there was a <i>Mutiny +in the 11th Infantry</i>. On the march of the 2d +battalion from Rennes to Toulon, on the 11th +April, the popular cry was raised by the common +soldiers, urged on by the democrats of the +town, and they insulted their officers. At Angers +the men were entertained at a fete; and +in the evening the soldiers and subaltern officers, +accompanied by their entertainers, paraded the +streets, shouting again and again, "Vive la République +démocratique et sociale!" The Minister +of War, on receiving intelligence of this +affair, ordered the battalion to be disbanded, +and the subalterns and soldiers drafted into the +regiments at Algiers.</p> + +<p>Besides this disgrace, an involuntary and +<i>Appalling Calamity</i> befell this regiment. When +the 3d battalion was leaving Angers, on the +16th, at eleven o'clock in the morning they met +a squadron of hussars coming from Nantes, +which crossed over the suspension-bridge of the +Basse Maine, without any accident. A fearful +storm raged at the time. The last of the horses<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span> +had scarcely crossed the bridge than the head +of the column of the third battalion of the 11th +appeared on the other side. Reiterated warnings +were given to the troops to break into sections, +as is usually done, but, the rain falling +heavily, it was disregarded, and they advanced +in close column. The head of the battalion +had reached the opposite side—the pioneers, the +drummers, and a part of the band were off the +bridge, when a horrible crash was heard; the +cast-iron columns of the right bank suddenly +gave way, crushing beneath them the rear of the +fourth company, which, with the flank company, +had not stepped upon the bridge. To describe +the frightful spectacle, and the cries of despair +which were raised, is impossible. The whole +town rushed to the spot to give assistance. In +spite of the storm, all the boats that could be +got at were launched to pick up the soldiers in +the river, and a great number who were clinging +to the parapets of the bridge, or who were +afloat by their knapsacks, were immediately got +out. The greater number were, however, found +to be wounded by the bayonets, or by the fragments +of the bridge falling on them. As the +soldiers were got out, they were led into the +houses adjoining, and every assistance given. +A young lieutenant, M. Loup, rendered himself +conspicuous for his heroic exertions; and a +young workwoman, at the imminent danger of +her life, jumped into the water, and saved the +life of an officer who was just sinking. A journeyman +hatter stripped and jumped into the +river, and, by his strength and skill in swimming, +saved a great many lives. One of the +soldiers who had reached the shore unhurt, immediately +stripped, and swam to the assistance +of his comrades. The lieutenant-colonel, an old +officer of the empire, was taken out of the river +seriously wounded, but remained to watch over +the rescue of his comrades. It appears that +some people of the town were walking on the +bridge at the time of the accident, for among +the bodies found were those of a servant-maid +and two children.</p> + +<p>When the muster-roll was called, it was found +that there were 219 soldiers missing, whose fate +was unknown. There were, besides, 33 bodies +lying in the hospital, and 30 wounded men; 70 +more bodies were found during the morning, 4 +of whom were officers.</p> + +<p><i>M. Proudhon was arrested</i> on the 18th, and +sent to the fortress of Doullens, for having +charged the ministry in his own paper, the +"Voix du Peuple," with having occasioned the +disaster of Angers by sending the 11th Regiment +of Light Infantry to Africa. In a letter +from prison he acquitted the government of design +in producing the catastrophe, but in a tone +which hinted the possibility of so diabolical a +crime having been meditated.</p> + +<p>A <i>Notorious Murderer</i> has been arrested in +France, whose mysterious and criminal career +would afford the materials for a romance. He was +taken at Ivry; in virtue of a writ granted by the +President, on the demand of the Sardinian government, +having been condemned for a murder +under extraordinary circumstances. He was +arrested in 1830, at Chambery, his native town, +for being concerned in a murder; but he escaped +from the prison of Bonneville, where he was confined, +and by means of a disguise succeeded in +reaching the town of Chene Tonnex, where he +went to an inn which was full of travelers. +There being no vacant beds, the innkeeper allowed +him to sleep in a room with a cattle-dealer, +named Claude Duret. The unfortunate +cattle-dealer was found dead in the morning, he +having been smothered with the mattress on +which he had slept. He had a large sum of +money with him, which was stolen, and this, as +well as his papers, had, no doubt, been taken by +Louis Pellet, who had disappeared. Judicial +inquiries ensued, and the result was that Louis +Pellet, already known to have committed a +murder, was condemned, <i>par contumace</i>, to ten +years' imprisonment at the galleys by the senate +of Chambery. In the mean time Louis Pellet, +profiting by the papers of the unfortunate Claude +Duret, contrived to reach Paris, when he opened +a shop, where he organized a foreign legion for +Algeria, enrolled himself under the name of his +victim, and sailed for Oran in a government +vessel. From this time up to 1834 all trace of +him was lost. He came to Paris, took a house, +amassed a large sum of money, and it turns out +he was mixed up with a number of cases of +murder, swindling, and forgery. These facts +came to the knowledge of the police, owing to +Pellet having been taken before the Correctional +Police for a trifling offense, when he appealed +against the punishment of confinement for five +days. The French government immediately +sent an account of the arrest of this great criminal +to the consul of the government of Savoy +resident at Paris.</p> + +<p><a name="Page_123a" id="Page_123a"></a></p> +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Political movements in <span class="smcap">England</span> are not without +interest and importance, although nothing +startling has occurred. The birth of another +Prince, christened <span class="smcap">Arthur</span>, has furnished another +occasion for evincing the attachment of the +English people to their sovereign. The event, +which, occurred on the 28th of April, was celebrated +by the usual demonstrations of popular +joy. Few years will elapse, however, before +each of the princes and princesses, whose advent +is now so warmly welcomed, will require +a splendid and expensive establishment, which +will add still more to the burdens of taxation +which already press, with overwhelming weight, +upon the great mass of the English people. +Thus it is that every thing in that country, however +fortunate and welcome it may appear, tends +irresistibly to an increase of popular burdens +which infallibly give birth to popular discontents.</p> + +<p>The attention of Parliament has been attracted +of late, in an unusual degree, to the intellectual +wants of the humbler classes, and to the removal, +by legislation, of some of the many restrictions +which now deprive them of all access even to +the most ordinary sources of information. Eve<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span>n +newspapers, which in this country go into the +hands of every man, woman, and child who can +read, and which therefore enable every member +of the community to keep himself informed concerning +all matters of interest to him as a citizen, +are virtually prohibited to the poorer classes in +England by the various duties which are imposed +upon them, and which raise the price so high as +to be beyond their reach. Mr. <span class="smcap">Gibson</span>, in the +House of Commons, brought forward resolutions, +on the 16th of April, to abolish what he justly +styled these <i>Taxes on Knowledge</i>: they proposed +1st, to repeal the excise duty only on paper; +2d, to abolish the stamp, and 3d, the advertisement +duty on newspapers; 4th, to do away with +the customs duty on foreign books. In urging +these measures Mr. <span class="smcap">Gibson</span> said, that the sacrifice +of the small excise duty on paper yearly, +would lead to the employment of 40,000 people +in London alone. The suppression of Chambers' +Miscellany, and the prevented re-issue of +Mr. Charles Knight's Penny Cyclopædia, from +the pressure of the duty, were cited as gross +instances of the check those duties impose on +the diffusion of knowledge. Mr. <span class="smcap">Gibson</span> did not +propose to alter the postal part of the newspaper +stamp duties; all the duty paid for postage—a +very large proportion—would therefore still be +paid. He dwelt on the unjust Excise caprices +which permit this privilege to humorous and +scientific weekly periodicals, but deny it to the +avowed "news" columns of the daily press. He +especially showed by extracts from a heap of +unstamped newspapers, that great evil is committed +on the poorest reading classes, by denying +them that useful fact and true exposition +which would be the best antidote to the pernicious +principles now disseminated among them +by the cheap, unstamped press. There is no +reason but this duty, which only gives £350,000 +per annum, why the poor man should not have +his penny and even his halfpenny newspaper, to +give him the leading facts and the important +ideas of the passing time. The tax on advertisements +checks information, fines poverty, +mulcts charity, depresses literature, and impedes +every species of mental activity, to realize +£150,000 per annum. That mischievous tax +on knowledge, the duty on foreign books, is imposed +for the sake of no more than £8000 a +year! Mr. <span class="smcap">Gibson</span> concluded by expressing his +firm conviction, that unless these taxes were removed, +and the progress of knowledge by that +and every other possible means facilitated, evils +most terrible would arise in the future—a not +unfit retribution for the gross impolicy of the +legislature. He was supported by Mr. <span class="smcap">Roebuck</span>, +but the motion was negatived, 190 to 89. +In his speech he instanced a curious specimen +of the manner in which the act is sometimes +evaded. A Greenock publisher himself informed +him that, having given offense to the authorities +by some political reflections in a weekly unstamped +newspaper of his of the character of +<i>Chambers's Journal</i>, he was prosecuted for violation +of the Stamp Act, and fined for each of +five numbers £25. Thereupon he diligently +studied the Act; and finding that printing upon +<i>cloth</i> was not within the prohibition, he set to +work and printed his journal upon cloth—giving +matter "savoring of intelligence" without the +penny stamp—and calling his paper the <i>Greenock +Newscloth</i>, sent it forth despite the Solicitor +to the Stamp Office.</p> + +<p>The <i>Education Bill</i> introduced by Mr. Fox +came up on the 17th, and was discussed at +some length. The general character of the +measure proposed, is very forcibly set forth in an +article from the <i>Examiner</i>, which will be found +upon a preceding page of this Magazine. The +bill was opposed mainly by Lord <span class="smcap">Arundel</span>, a +Catholic, on the ground that it made no provision +for religious education, and secular education +he denounced as essentially atheistic. Mr. +<span class="smcap">Roebuck</span> advocated the bill in an able and +eloquent speech, urging the propriety of education +as a means of preventing crime. He +asked for the education of the people, and he +asked it upon the lowest ground. As a mere +matter of policy, the state ought to educate the +people; and why did he say so? Lord Ashley +had been useful in his generation in getting up +Ragged Schools. It was a great imputation +upon the kingdom that such schools were needed. +Why were they needed? Because of the +vice which was swarming in all our great cities. +"We pass laws," said he, "send forth an army +of judges and barristers to administer them, +erect prisons and place aloft gibbets to enforce +them; but religious bigotry prevents the chance +of our controlling the evil at the source, by so +teaching the people as to prevent the crimes +we strive to punish." It was because he believed +that prevention was better than cure; +it was because he believed that the business +of government was to prevent crime in every +possible way rather than to punish it after its +commission, that he asked the house to divest +themselves of all that prejudice and bigotry +which was at the bottom of the opposition to +this measure. The bill was warmly opposed, +however, and its further consideration was postponed +until the 20th of May.</p> + +<p>The ministry during the month has been defeated +upon several measures, though upon +none of very great importance. In the first +week of the meeting of parliament after the +Easter holidays, the cabinet had to endure, in +the House of Commons, three defeats—two +positive, and one comparative; and, shortly after, +a fourth. On a motion, having for its object +improvement in the status and accommodation +of assistant-surgeons on board Her Majesty's +ships, ministers were placed in a minority equal +to eight votes. On the measure for extending +the jurisdiction of county courts, to which they +were not disposed to agree, they voted with a +minority, which numbered 67 against 144 votes. +These were the positive defeats; the comparative +one arose out of a motion to abolish the +window-tax. Against this the cabinet made +come effort, but its supporters only mustered<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span> +in sufficient strength to afford a majority of +three. Their last disaster was in a committee +on the New Stamp Duties Bill. The ministry +seem disposed to gratify the public by economy +so far as possible. Lord <span class="smcap">John Russell</span> having +introduced and carried a motion for a select +committee on the subject.</p> + +<p>Great preparations are making for the Industrial +Exhibition of 1851. It has been decided +that it is to take place in Hyde Park in +a building made of iron to guard against fire. +The <i>Literary Gazette</i> has the following paragraph +in regard to it:</p> + +<p>"We are informed that an overture has been +received by the Royal Commissioners from the +government of the United States of America, +offering to remove the exhibition, after its close +in London, to be reproduced at New York, and +paying a consideration for the same which would +go toward the increase of the English fund. +With regard to this fund, while we again express +our regret at its languishing so much, and +at the continuance of the jobbing which inflicted +the serious wound on its commencement, +and is still allowed to paralyze the proceedings +in chief, we adhere to the opinion that it will +be sufficient for the Occasion. The Occasion, +not as bombastically puffed, but as nationally +worthy; and that the large sum which may be +calculated upon for admissions (not to mention +this new American element), will carry it +through in as satisfactory a manner as could be +expected."</p> + +<p>The <i>Expeditions to the Arctic Seas</i> in search +of Sir <span class="smcap">John Franklin</span> attract a good deal of +attention. It is stated that Captain Penny was +to sail April 30th from Scotland, in command +of the two ships the Lady Franklin and the +Sophia. He will proceed without delay to +Jones's Sound; which he purposes thoroughly +to explore. The proposed expedition under the +direction of Sir John Ross will also be carried +into execution. He will sail from Ayr about +the middle of May; and will probably be accompanied +by Commander Philips, who was with Sir +James Ross in his Antarctic Expedition. Another +expedition, in connection with that of Sir +John Ross, is under consideration. It has for +its object the search of Prince Regent's Inlet by +ship as far south as Brentford Bay; from whence +walking and boating parties might be dispatched +in various directions. This plan—which could +be carried into effect by dispatching a small +vessel with Sir John Ross, efficiently equipped +for the service—is deemed highly desirable by +several eminent authorities; as it is supposed—and +not without considerable reason—that Sir +John Franklin may be to the south of Cape +Walker; and that he would, in such case, presuming +him to be under the necessity of forsaking +his ships this spring, prefer making for +the wreck of the Fury stores in Prince Regent's +Inlet, the existence of which he is aware of, to +attempting to gain the barren shore of North +America, which would involve great hazard +and fatigue. As a matter of course this second +expedition would be of a private nature, and +wholly independent of those dispatched by the +Admiralty. These various expeditions, in addition +to that organized by Mr. <span class="smcap">Henry Grinell</span> +of New York, will do all that can be done +toward rescuing Captain <span class="smcap">Franklin</span>, or, at least, +obtaining some knowledge of his fate.</p> + +<p>The death of <span class="smcap">Wordsworth</span>, the Patriarch of +English Poetry, and that of <span class="smcap">Bowles</span>, distinguished +also in the same high sphere, have called +forth biographical notices from the English press. +A sketch of each of these distinguished men will +be found in these pages. The propriety of discontinuing +the laureateship is forcibly urged. +About £2000 has been contributed toward the +erection of a monument to Lord <span class="smcap">Jeffrey</span>.</p> + +<p><a name="Page_125a" id="Page_125a"></a></p> +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>The <span class="smcap">London Scientific Societies</span> present +nothing of extraordinary interest for the month. +At the meeting of the Geological Society, March +28, Sir <span class="smcap">Roderick Murchison</span> read a paper of +some importance on the Relations of the Hot +Water and Vapor sources of Tuscany to the +Volcanic Eruptions of Italy. On the 10th of +April, a paper was read from Prof. <span class="smcap">Lepsius</span> on +the height of the Nile valley in Nubia, which +was formerly much greater than it is now.</p> + +<p>At the Royal Society, April 12, the Rev. +Professor <span class="smcap">O'Brien</span>, in a paper "on a Popular +View of certain Points in the Undulatory Theory +of Light," restricted his illustration to a single +topic, namely, the analogy of the mixture of +colors to the mixture of sounds, having first +explained generally what the undulatory theory +of light is, and the composition of colors and +sounds. At the meeting on the 19th, Mr. +<span class="smcap">Stenhouse</span>, in concluding a paper on the artificial +production of organic bases, said he did +not despair of producing artificially the natural +alkaloids, and the more especially as, thirty +years ago, we could not produce any alkaloids. +Before the chair was vacated, Mr. <span class="smcap">Faraday</span> +submitted a powerful magnet which had been +sent to him by a foreign philosopher; indeed, it +was the strongest ever made. A good magnet, +Mr. Faraday said, weighing 8 lbs., would support +a weight of about 40 lbs. The magnet he +exhibited had surprised him; it weighed only +1 lb., and it supported 26-1/2 lbs. This magnet, so +beautifully made, was, we believe, constructed +by M. Lozeman, on a new method, the result +of the researches of M. Elias, both of Haarlem.</p> + +<p>At another meeting of the same society, Dr. +<span class="smcap">Mantell</span> submitted a paper upon the <i>Pelorosaurus</i>, +an undescribed, gigantic terrestrial reptile, +of which an enormous arm-bone, or humerus, +has recently been discovered in Sussex. It was +found imbedded in sandstone, by Mr. Peter +Fuller, of Lewes, at about twenty feet below +the surface; it presents the usual mineralized +condition of the fossil bones from the arneaceous +strata of the Wealden. It is four and a half +feet in length, and the circumference of its +distal extremity is 32 inches! It has a medullary +cavity 3 inches in diameter, which at once +separates it from the Cetiosaurus and other supposed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span> +marine Saurians, while its form and proportions +distinguish it from the humerus of the +Iguanodon, Hylæosaurus, and Megalosaurus. +It approaches most nearly to the Crocodilians, +but possesses characters distinct from any known +fossil genus. Its size is stupendous, far surpassing +that of the corresponding bone even of +the gigantic Iguanodon; and the name of +<i>Pelorosaurus</i> (from [Greek: pelor], <i>pelõr</i>, monster) is, +therefore, proposed for the genus, with the +specific term <i>Conybeari</i>, in honor of the palæontological +labors of the Dean of Llandaff. No +bones have been found in such contiguity with +this humerus as to render it certain that they +belonged to the same gigantic reptile; but several +very large caudal vertebræ of peculiar +characters, collected from the same quarry, are +probably referable to the Pelorosaurus; these, +together with some distal caudals which belong +to the same type, are figured and described by +the author. Certain femora and other bones +from the oolite of Oxfordshire, in the collection +of the dean of Westminster, at Oxford, are mentioned +as possessing characters more allied to +those of the Pelorosaurus, or to some unknown +terrestrial Saurian, than to the Cetiosaurus, with +which they have been confounded. As to the +magnitude of the animal to which the humerus +belonged, Dr. Mantell, while disclaiming the +idea of arriving at any certain conclusions from +a single bone, stated that in a Gavial 18 feet +long, the humerus is one foot in length, <i>i.e.</i>, +one-eighteenth part of the length of the animal, +from the end, of the muzzle to the tip of the +tail. According to these admeasurements the +Pelorosaurus would be 81 feet long, and its body +20 feet in circumference. But if we assume +the length and number of the vertebræ as the +scale, we should have a reptile of relatively abbreviated +proportions; even in this case, however, +the original creature would far surpass in +magnitude the most colossal of reptilian forms. +A writer in the <i>Athenæum</i>, in speaking of the +expense of marble and bronze statues, which +limits the possession of works of high art to the +wealthy, calls attention to the fact that <i>lead</i> +possesses every requisite for the casting of +statues which bronze possesses, while it excels +that costly material in two very important particulars—cheapness, +and fusibility at a low temperature. +As evidence that it may be used for +that purpose, he cites the fact that the finest +piece of statuary in Edinburgh is composed of +lead. This is the equestrian statue of Charles +the Second, erected in the Parliament Square +by the magistrates of Edinburgh in honor of the +restoration of that monarch. This statue is +such a fine work of art that it has deceived almost +every one who has mentioned its composition. +Thus, a late writer in giving an account +of the statuary in Edinburgh describes it as +consisting of "hollow bronze;" and in "Black's +Guide through Edinburgh" it is spoken of as +"the best specimen of bronze statuary which +Edinburgh possesses." <i>It is, however, composed +of lead</i>, and has already, without sensible deterioration, +stood the test of 165 years' exposure +to the weather, and it still seems as fresh +as if erected but yesterday. Lead, therefore, +appears from this instance to be sufficiently +durable to induce artists to make trial of it in +metallic castings, instead of bronze.</p> + +<p>Intelligence from Mosul to the 4th ult. states +that Mr. <span class="smcap">Layard</span> and his party are still carrying +on their excavations at Nimrood and Nineveh. +A large number of copper vessels beautifully +engraved have been found in the former; and +from the latter a large assortment of fine slabs +illustrative of the rule, conquests, domestic life, +and arts of the ancient Assyrians, are daily coming +to light, and are committed to paper by the +artist, Mr. Cooper, one of the expedition. Mr +Layard intends to make a trip to the Chaboor, +the Chaboras of the Romans, and to visit Reish +Aina, the Resen of Scripture, where he hopes +to find a treasure of Assyrian remains.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Literary Intelligence</span> of the month +is not of special interest. The first part of a +new work by <span class="smcap">William Mure</span>, entitled a "Critical +History of the Language and Literature of +Ancient Greece," has just been published in +London, and elicits warm commendation from +the critical journals. The three volumes thus +far published are devoted mainly to a discussion +of <span class="smcap">Homer</span>. Mr. <span class="smcap">Charles Merivale</span> has also +completed and published two volumes of his +"History of the Romans under the Empire," +which extend to the death of Julius Caesar.</p> + +<p>Mrs. <span class="smcap">Sara Coleridge</span>, widow of <span class="smcap">Henry +Nelson</span>, and daughter of S.T. <span class="smcap">Coleridge</span>, has +collected such of her father's supposed writings +in the Watchman, Morning Post, and Courier, +ranging between the years 1795 and 1817, as +could with any certainty be identified for his, +and, with such as he avowed by his signature, +has published them in three duodecimo volumes, +as <i>Essays on his own Times</i>, or a second series +of <i>The Friend</i>. They are dedicated to Archdeacon +Hare, and embody not a little of that +system of thought, or method of regarding public +affairs from the point of view of a liberal and +enlarged Christianity, which is now ordinarily +associated with what is called the German party +in the English Church. The volumes are not +only a valuable contribution to the history of a +very remarkable man's mind, but also to the +history of the most powerful influence now existing +in the world—the Newspaper Press.</p> + +<p>A more complete and elaborate work upon +this subject, however, has appeared in the shape +of two post octavo volumes by Mr. F. <span class="smcap">Knight +Hunt</span>, entitled <i>The Fourth Estate</i>. Mr. Hunt +describes his book very fairly as contributions +toward a history of newspapers, and of the liberty +of the press, rather than as a complete historical +view of either; but he has had a proper +feeling for the literature of his subject, and has +varied his entertaining anecdotes of the present +race of newspaper men, with extremely curious +and valuable notices of the past.</p> + +<p>Of books on mixed social and political questions<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span> +the most prominent has been a new volume +of Mr. <span class="smcap">Laing</span>'s <i>Observations on the Social +and Political State of the European People</i>, devoted +to the last two years, from the momentous +incidents of which Mr. Laing derives sundry +warnings as to the instability of the future, the +necessity of changes in education and political +arrangements, and the certain ultimate predominance +of material over imaginative influences in +the progress of civilization, which his readers will +very variously estimate, according to their habits +of thinking; and Mr. <span class="smcap">Kay</span>'s collections of evidence +as to the present <i>Social Condition and +Education of the People in England and Europe</i>, +the object of which is to show that the results +of the primary schools, and of the system of dividing +landed property, existing on the Continent, +has been to produce a certain amount of mental +cultivation and social comfort among the lower +classes of the people abroad, to which the same +classes in England can advance no claim whatever. +The book contains a great deal of curious +evidence in support of this opinion.</p> + +<p>Of works strictly relating to modern history, +the first volume of General <span class="smcap">Klapka</span>'s memoirs +of the <i>War in Hungary</i>, and a military treatise +by Colonel <span class="smcap">Cathcart</span> on the <i>Russian and German +Campaigns of 1812 and 1813</i>, may be +mentioned as having authority. Klapka was a +distinguished actor in the war he now illustrates +by his narrative, and Colonel Cathcart saw eight +general actions lost and won in which Napoleon +commanded in person.</p> + +<p>In the department of biography, the principal +publications have been a greatly improved edition +of Mr. Charles Knight's illustrations of the +<i>Life of Shakspeare</i>, with the erasure of many +fanciful, and the addition of many authentic details; +a narrative of the <i>Life of the Duke of +Kent</i>, by Mr. Erskine Neale, in which the somewhat +troubled career of that very amiable prince +is described with an evident desire to do justice +to his character and virtues; and a <i>Life of Dr. +Andrew Combe</i>, of Edinburgh, an active and benevolent +physician, who led the way in that application +of the truths and teachings of physiology +to health and education, which has of late occupied +so largely the attention of the best thinkers +of the time, and whose career is described with +affectionate enthusiasm by his brother Mr. George +Combe. Not as a regular biography, but as a +delightful assistance, not only to our better +knowledge of the wittiest and one of the wisest +of modern men, but to our temperate and just +judgments of all men, we may mention the publication +of the posthumous fragments of Sydney +Smith's <i>Elementary Sketches of Moral Philosophy</i>.</p> + +<p>To the department of poetry, Mr. <span class="smcap">Browning</span>'s +<i>Christmas Eve and Easter Day</i> has been the +most prominent addition. But we have also to +mention a second and final volume of <i>More Verse +and Prose</i> by the late Corn-law Rhymer; a new +poetical translation of <i>Dante's Divine Comedy</i>, +by Mr. Patrick Bannerman; and a dramatic +poem, called the <i>Roman</i>, by a writer who +adopts the fictitious name of Sydney Yendys, on +the recent revolutionary movements in Italy. +In prose fiction, the leading productions have +been a novel entitled the <i>Initials</i>, depicting German +social life, by a new writer; and an historical +romance, called <i>Reginald Hastings</i>, of which +the subject is taken from the English civil wars, +by Mr. <span class="smcap">Eliot Warburton</span>.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>The <span class="smcap">Deaths of Distinguished Persons,</span> +during the month, have not been very numerous, +though they comprise names of considerable +celebrity in various departments.</p> + +<p>Of <span class="smcap">Wordsworth</span> and <span class="smcap">Bowles</span>, both poets, +and both friends of <span class="smcap">Coleridge, Lamb, Southey,</span> +and <span class="smcap">Crabbe</span>, more detailed mention is made in +preceding pages.</p> + +<p>Lieut.-General Sir <span class="smcap">James Bathurst</span>, K.C.B., +died at Kibworth Rectory, Leicestershire, on the +13th, in his 68th year. When he entered the +army in 1794, if his age be correctly stated, he +could have been only twelve years of age. He +served at Gibraltar and in the West Indies, the +capture of Surinam, the campaign in Egypt in +1801, in the expedition to Hanover, and in the +actions fought for the relief of Dantzic, as well +as in those of Lomitten, Deppen, Gutstadt, Heilsberg, +and Friedland. Subsequently he served +at Rugen, and at the siege of Copenhagen. In +1808 and 1809, he served with the army in +Portugal and Spain as assistant quartermaster-general, +and as military secretary to the Duke +of Wellington.</p> + +<p>Madame <span class="smcap">Dulcken</span> died on the 13th, in Harley-street, +aged 38. She was the sister of the +celebrated violinist, David, and had been for +many years resident in England, where she +held a conspicuous position among the most +eminent professors of the piano-forte.</p> + +<p>Sir <span class="smcap">Archibald Galloway</span>, Chairman of the +Hon. East India Company, died on the 6th, in +London, aged 74, after a few hours' illness. +He transacted business at the India House, on +the 4th, and presided at the banquet recently +given by the directors of the East India Company +to Lord Gough.</p> + +<p>Rear-Admiral <span class="smcap">Hills</span> died on the 8th, aged +73. He became a lieutenant in 1798, and a +post-captain in 1814. The deceased was a +midshipman of the Eclair at the occupation of +Toulon, and was lieutenant of the Amethyst at +the capture of various prizes during the late +war.</p> + +<p>Dr. <span class="smcap">Prout</span>, F.R.S., expired in Piccadilly, on +the 9th, at an advanced age. He was till lately +in extensive practice as a physician, besides +being a successful author.</p> + +<p>Captain <span class="smcap">Smith</span>, R.N., the Admiralty superintendent +of packets at Southampton, died on +the 8th, unexpectedly. He was distinguished +as the inventor of paddle-box boats for steamers, +and of the movable target for practicing naval +gunnery. He entered the navy in 1808, and +saw a good deal of service till the close of the +war.</p> + +<p>Madame <span class="smcap">Tussaud</span>, the well-known exhibitor<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span> +of wax figures, died on the 10th, in her 90th +year. She was a native of Berne, but left +Switzerland when but six years old for Paris, +where she became a pupil of her uncle, M. +Curtius, "artiste to Louis XVI.," by whom she +was instructed in the fine arts, of which he was +an eminent professor. Madame Tussaud prided +herself upon the fact of having instructed Madame +Elizabeth to draw and model, and she continued +to be employed by that princess until +October, 1789. She passed unharmed through +the horrors of the Revolution, perhaps by reason +of her peculiar ability as a modeler; for she +was employed to take heads of most of the +Revolutionary leaders. She came to England +in 1802, and has from that time been occupied +in gathering the popular exhibition now exhibiting +in London.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Affairs in <span class="smcap">Italy</span> seem very unpromising. +The <span class="smcap">Pope</span> returned to Rome on the 12th: and +in this number of this Magazine will be found +a detailed and very graphic account of his approach, +entry, and reception. From subsequent +accounts there is reason to fear that the <span class="smcap">Pope</span> +has fallen entirely under the influence of the Absolutist +party, which now sways the councils of +the Vatican; and the same arbitrary proceedings +appear to be carried on in his immediate presence +as were the order of the day when he resided at +Portici. The secret press of the Republican +party is kept at work, and its productions, somehow +or other, find their way into the hands of <span class="smcap">Pio +Nono</span> himself, filling him with indignation. It +is said that the Pontiff is very much dissatisfied +with his present position, which he feels to be +that of a prisoner or hostage. No one is allowed +to approach him without permission, and all +papers are opened beforehand by the authority +of Cardinal <span class="smcap">Antonelli</span>. It is generally feared +that his Holiness is a tool in the hands of the Absolutists—a +very pretty consummation to have +been brought about by the republican bayonets +of France! <span class="smcap">Italy</span>, for which so many hopes +have been entertained, and of whose successful +progress in political regeneration so many delightful +anticipations have been indulged, seems +to be overshadowed, from the Alps to the Abruzzi, +with one great failure.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>The two Overland Mails from India which +arrived during the month brought news that +there had been some fighting in the newly acquired +territories. On the 2d of February a +body of Affredies, inhabitants of the Kohat hills, +about a thousand strong, attacked the camp of a +party of British sappers, employed in making a +road in a pass between Peshawur and Kohat. +Twelve of the latter were killed, six wounded, +and the camp was plundered. To avenge this +massacre a strong force under Colonel Bradshaw, +Sir Charles Napier himself, with Sir John +Campbell, accompanying him, marched from Peshawur +an the 9th. The mountaineers made a +stand in every pass and defile; but although the +troops destroyed six villages and killed a great +number of the enemy, they were obliged to return +to Peshawur on the 11th without having +accomplished their object. On the 14th February +another force was sent to regain the passes +and to keep them open for a larger armament.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Accounts from <span class="smcap">Egypt</span> to the 6th, state that +the Pacha, who had been residing at his new +palace in the Desert, had returned to Cairo. +The proximity of his residence has drawn his +attention to the <i>Improvement of the Overland +Route</i>; and he has said that means must be +adopted to reduce the period of traveling between +the ships in the Mediterranean and Red +Sea to 60 or 65 hours, instead of 80 or 85 hours. +He has sent a small landing steamer to ply in +Suez harbor; and he is causing the work of +Macadamizing the Desert road to be proceeded +with vigorously. An agreement has been made +with contractors to enlarge the station-houses on +the Desert, so as to admit of the necessary stabling +accommodation for eight or ten relays of +horses, instead of four or five, by which means +50 or 60 persons will be moved across in one +train, instead of, as at present, half that number. +Mules, again, are to be substituted for baggage +camels in the transport of the Indian luggage +and cargoes, with the view to a reduction of the +time consumed in this operation between Suez +and Cairo, from 36 to 24 hours. It is easy to +perceive the benefits which will be derived from +these measures.</p> + +<p><a name="Page_128a" id="Page_128a"></a></p> +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Mr. P. <span class="smcap">Colquohon</span> sends to the <i>Athenæum</i>, +the following extract of a letter from Baron de +Rennenkampff, the Chief Chamberlain of H.R.H. +the Grand Duke of Oldenburg, and President +of the Museum of Antiquities at Oldenburg, +which is almost entirely indebted to that gentleman +for its collection—narrating an important +discovery of Roman silver coins:</p> + +<p>"A most interesting circumstance, the particulars +of which have much occupied my attention, +has occurred here lately. Some poor day +laborers in the neighborhood of the small town +of Jever, on the border of Marsch and Gest, +found, in a circle of a few feet, at a depth of +from 7 to 8 feet, a heap of small Roman coins, +of fine silver, being 5000 pieces of Roman denarii. +The half of them immediately fell into the +hands of a Jew of Altona, at a very inconsiderable +price. The greatest portion of the remainder +were dispersed before I gained intelligence +of it, and I only succeeded in collecting some 500 +pieces for the Grand Duke's collection, who permitted +me to remunerate the discoverers with +four times the value of the metal. The coins +date between the years 69 and 170 after Christ +while the oldest which have hitherto been discovered +on the European Continent, in Norway, +Sweden, Denmark, Germany, &c., date from 170 +or 180. Each piece bears the effigy of one of +the Emperors of the time, the reverse is adorned +with the impression of some occurrence (a +woman lying down with a chariot wheel, and +beneath it the legend <i>via Trajaceæ</i>, a trophy, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span> +on the escutcheon <i>Dacia capta</i>, &c.), and these +are so various that pairs have only been found +in a few cases. The discovery is so much the +more wonderful, as, historically, no trace can be +found of the Romans having penetrated so far +down as Jever."</p> + +<p>The French Minister of the Interior has decided +on postponing the Exhibition of Painting +in Paris this year until November. The comparative +absence from the capital during the +fine season of strangers and of rich amateurs +likely to be purchasers of pictures, is the motive +for this change in the period of opening the +Salon.</p> + +<p>The French papers state that the submarine +electric telegraph between Dover and Calais is +to be opened to the public on the 4th of May, +the anniversary of the proclamation of the French +Republic by the Constituent Assembly.</p> + +<p>The Indian Mail brings copies of a new journal +published in China on the first day of the +present year, and called the <i>Pekin Monitor</i>. It +is written in Chinese, and carefully printed, on +fine paper. The first number contains an ordinance +of the emperor, Toa-kouang, forbidding +the emigration of his subjects to California or the +State of Costa Rica.</p> + +<p>It is stated in the <i>Berliner Allgemeine Kirchen +Zeitung</i>, that the Jews have obtained a firman +from the Porte, granting them permission to +build a temple on Mount Zion. The projected +edifice is, it is said, to equal Solomon's Temple +in magnificence.</p> + +<p>The creation of a university for New South +Wales is a striking expression of the rapid +development of the history of a colony founded, +in times comparatively recent, with the worst +materials of civilization grafted on the lowest +forms of barbarism existing on the earth. The +new institution is to be at Sydney; and a sum +of £30,000 has been, it is said, voted for +the building and £5000 for its fittings-up. It +will contain at first chairs of the Classical +Languages, Mathematics, Chemistry, Natural +History, Natural Philosophy, Mechanics, Physiology, +and the Medical Sciences; and professorships +of History, Philosophy, and Political +Economy are to be hereafter added. There is +to be no faculty of Theology—and no religious +tests.</p> + +<p>The late Dr. <span class="smcap">Potts</span>, inventor of the hydraulic +pile-driving process, and other mechanical inventions, +expired at his house in Buckingham-street, +Strand, on the 23d ultimo. Dr. Potts +belonged originally to the medical profession; +but by inclination, even from school-boy days, +and while a class-fellow with the present Premier +and the Duke of Bedford, he appears to have +devoted himself to mechanical and engineering +pursuits. His name, however, will be most +closely associated for the future with the ingenious +process for driving piles.</p> + +<p>It is said that "among the agriculturists of +Gloucestershire, Worcestershire, and Herefordshire," +there is a grand scheme of emigration +afloat, which projects the purchase of a million +acres of land in one of the Western States of +America.</p> + +<p>Some of the paper slips dropped by the telegraphing +balloons, sent up experimentally by +the Admiralty at Whitehall, have been returned +by post from Hamburg and Altona, a distance +of 450 miles direct.</p> + +<p>Box tunnel, London, which is 3192 yards in +length, was an object of some interest on Tuesday, +the 9th of April, as on that morning at +twenty-five minutes past five the sun shone +through it. The only other periods that such an +event occurs are on the 3d and 4th of September.</p> + +<p>An oak tree, forty feet high, with three tons +of soil on its roots, has been transplanted at +Graisley, near Wolverhampton. The tree was +mounted on a timber-carriage, and, with its +branches lashed to prevent damage to windows, +passed through the streets, a singular but beautiful +sight.</p> + +<p><a name="Page_129a" id="Page_129a"></a></p> + +<p>The Plymouth Town-Council are about to lay +down a quantity of glass pipes, jointed with +gutta percha, as an experiment, for the conveyance +of water.</p> + +<p>The French, Belgian, and Prussian governments +appointed a commission in 1848 to draw +up the base of an arrangement for an international +railway communication; the commission +is about to commence its sittings in Paris.</p> + +<p>The Russian Geographical Society has decided +upon exploring that portion of the Northern Ural +which lies between Mount Kwognar and the pass +of Koppol; an extent of 2000 wersts, which has +not yet been explored by the Ural expedition. +The expedition will consist of only three persons—a +geognort, who also determines the altitude, +a geographer, and one assistant. A great number +of attendants, interpreters, workpeople, and +rein-deer sledges, have already been engaged. +The expedition will set out immediately, and it +is hoped will complete the investigation by September.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>It is said that nothing indicates the social and +moral condition of any community more accurately +or impressively than its <span class="smcap">Records of +Crime</span>. The following instances, selected from +English journals of the month, will not, therefore, +be without interest and instruction.</p> + +<p>On the 2d, Thomas Denny was tried at Kingston-on-Thames, +for <i>Murdering his Child</i>. He +was a farm-servant, and so poor that he lived +in a hay-loft on his master's premises, with his +reputed wife. In August a child was born, and +died immediately. Suspicions arose, and an investigation +took place, which led to the prisoner's +commitment, charged with murdering the +infant. On the trial the prisoner's son, an intelligent +boy of eight years old, told the following +graphic story of his father's guilt: "We +all," he said, "lived together in the hay-loft at +Ewell. When mother had a baby, I went to +my father and told him to come home directly. +When we got back my father took up the baby +in his arms. He then took up an awl. [Here +the child became much affected, and cried bitterly,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span> +and it was some time before he could proceed +with his testimony. At length he went +on.] My father took up the awl, and killed the +baby with it. He stuck the awl into its throat. +The baby cried, and my father took the child to +its mother, and asked her if he should make a +coffin for it. Before he said this, he asked her +if she would help to kill it, and gave her the +awl. She tried to kill it also. My father gave +her the child and the awl, and she did the same +to it that he had done. I was very much frightened +at what I saw, and ran away, and when +I came back I found mother in bed." The +woman (Eliza Tarrant) had been charged as +an accomplice, but the bill against her was +ignored by the grand jury. On the trial she +was called as a witness; to which the prisoner's +counsel objected, she being a presumed participator +in the crime. The woman, however, was called, +and partly corroborated her son's testimony; +but denied that she took any share in killing her +offspring. The prisoner was convicted, and +Mr. Justice Maule passed sentence of death, +informing him that there was no hope of respite. +Subsequently, however, the objections of the +prisoner's counsel proved more valid than the +judge supposed, for the secretary of state thought +proper to commute the sentence. The unfortunate +man received the respite with heartfelt +gratitude. Since his conviction he appeared to +be overcome with grief at his awful position.</p> + +<p><i>A Tale of Misery</i> was revealed on the 3d to +Mr. à Beckett, the magistrate Of Southwark +police court. He received a letter from a gentleman +who stated that as he was walking home +one evening, his attention was attracted to a +young woman. She was evidently following an +immoral career; but her appearance and demeanor +interesting him he spoke to her. She +candidly acknowledged, that having been deserted +by her parents, she was leading an abandoned +life to obtain food for her three sisters, +all younger than herself. Her father had been +in decent circumstances, but that unfortunately +her mother was addicted to drink, and owing to +this infirmity their parents had separated, and +abandoned them. The writer concluded by +hoping that the magistrate would cause an inquiry +to be made. Mr. à Beckett directed an +officer of the court to investigate into this case. +On the 4th, the officer called at the abode of the +young woman, in a wretched street, at a time +when such a visit could not have been expected. +He found Mary Ann Bannister, the girl alluded +to, and her three sisters, of the respective ages +of eight, eleven, and fourteen, in deep distress. +The eldest was washing some clothing for her +sisters. There was no food of any description +in the place. Altogether the case was a very +distressing one, and although accustomed to +scenes of misery, in the course of his duties, yet +this was one of the most lamentable the officer +had met with. The publication of the case had +the effect of inducing several benevolent individuals +to transmit donations to Mr. à Beckett for +these destitute girls, to the amount, as he stated +on a subsequent day, of above £25. He added +that it was in contemplation to enable the girls +to emigrate to South Australia, and that meanwhile +they had been admitted into the workhouse +of St. George's parish, where they would +be kept till a passage was procured for them to +the colony. More than one person had offered to +take Mary Ann Bannister into domestic service; +but emigration for the whole four was thought +more advisable.</p> + +<p>A female named Lewis, who resided at +Bassalleg, left her home on the 3d to go to +Newport, about three miles distant, to make +purchases. She never returned. A search was +made by her son and husband, who is a cripple, +and on the night of the following day they discovered +her <i>murdered in a wood</i> at no very great +distance from the village, so frightfully mangled +as to leave no doubt that she had been waylaid +and brutally murdered. The head was shockingly +disfigured, battered by some heavy instrument, +and the clothes were saturated with blood. +For some days the perpetrators escaped detection, +but eventually Murphy and Sullivan, two +young Irishmen, were arrested at Cheltenham, +on suspicion. Wearing apparel, covered with +blood, and a number of trifling articles were +found on them. They were sent off to Newport, +where it was found they had been engaged +in an atrocious outrage in Gloucestershire, +on an old man whom they had assailed +and robbed on the road near Purby; his skull +was fractured; and his life was considered to +be in imminent peril. Both prisoners were +fully committed to the county jail at Monmouth +to take their trial for willful murder.</p> + +<p><i>A Dreadful Murder</i> has been discovered in +the neighborhood of Frome, in Somersetshire. +On the 3d, a young man named Thomas +George, the son of a laborer residing near that +town, left his father's house about eight in the +evening, and never returned. Next morning, +his father went in search of him, and found his +body in a farmer's barn; he had been apparently +dead for some hours, and there were deep +wounds in his head and throat. A man named +Henry Hallier, who had been seen in company +with the deceased, the night he disappeared, +close to the barn where his body was found, was +apprehended on the 18th on suspicion, and committed +to the county jail.</p> + +<p>An act of <i>Unparalleled Atrocity</i> was committed +during the Easter week in the Isle of Man. Two +poor men named Craine and Gill went to a hill-side +to procure a bundle of heather to make +brooms. The proprietor of the premises observed +them, and remarked that he would quickly make +them remove their quarters. He at once set fire +to the dry furze and heather, directly under the +hilly place where the poor men were engaged. +The fire spread furiously, and it was only by +rolling himself down the brow of the hill, and +falling over the edge of a precipice into the river +underneath, that Gill escaped. His unfortunate +companion, who was a pensioner, aged 80 years, +and quite a cripple, was left in his helpless state<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span> +a prey to the flames. After they had subsided, +Gill went in search of Craine, whom he found +burned to a cinder. The proprietor of the heath +has been apprehended.</p> + +<p><i>A Shot at his Sweetheart</i> was fired by John +Humble Sharpe, a young man of 21, who was +tried for it at the Norfolk Circuit on the 9th. +The accused, a young carpenter, had courted +and had been accepted by the prosecutrix, Sarah +Lingwood. She, however, listened to other vows; +the lover grew jealous, and was at length rejected. +In the night after he had received his dismissal, +the family of the girl's uncle with whom she lived +were alarmed by the report of a gun. On examining +her bedroom it was discovered that a +bullet had been fired through the window, had +crossed the girl's bed, close to the bottom where +she lay, grazed a dress that was lying on the +bed-clothes, and struck a chest of drawers beyond. +Suspicion having fallen on the prisoner, he +was apprehended. The prisoner's counsel admitted +the fact, but denied the intent. The +prisoner had, he said, no desire to harm the girl, +whom he tenderly loved, but only to alarm her +and induce her to return to him. The jury, after +long deliberation, acquitted the prisoner.</p> + +<p>Several shocking instances of <i>Agrarian Crime</i> +have been mentioned in the Irish papers. At +Glasslough, in the county of Monaghan, a shot +was fired into the bed-room window of Mr. John +Robertson, land steward to C.P. Leslie, Esq., +on the night of the 10th. Arthur O'Donnel, +Esq., of Pickwick Cottage, in Clare, was murdered +near his own house, on the night of the +11th. He was attacked by a party of men and +killed with a hatchet. The supposition was that +this deed was committed by recipients of relief +whom Mr. O'Donnel was wont to strike off the +lists at the weekly revision by the board of the +Kilrush union, of which he was one. A man +was arrested on strong suspicion. There was +another murder in Clare. The herdsman of +Mr. Scanlon, of Fortune in that county, went +out to look after some sheep, the property of his +master, when he was attacked by some persons +who had been lurking about the wood, and his +throat cut.</p> + +<p>Two evidences of the <i>Low Price of Labor</i> +were brought before the magistrates. One at +Bow-street on the 10th, when W. Gronnow, a +journeyman shoemaker, was charged with pawning +eight pairs of ladies' shoes intrusted to him +for making up. He pleaded extreme distress, +and said he intended to redeem the shoes that +week. The prisoner's employer owned that the +man was entitled to no more than 4<i>s.</i> 8<i>d.</i> for +making and preparing the eight pairs of shoes. +"Why," said the magistrate, "that price is only +<i>sevenpence</i> a pair for the workman. I am not +surprised to hear of so many persons pawning +their employers' property, when they are paid +so badly." The prisoner was fined 2<i>s.</i> and ordered +to pay the money he had received upon +the shoes within fourteen days; in default, to +be imprisoned fourteen days. Being unable to +pay the money, he was locked up.</p> + +<p>On the previous day a man named Savage, a +slop shirt seller, was summoned at Guildhall for +9<i>d.</i>, the balance due to Mrs. Wallis for making +three cotton shirts. When delivered, Savage +found fault with them, and deferred payment. +Eventually 1<i>s.</i> 3<i>d.</i> was paid instead of 2<i>s.</i> The +alderman said he was surprised at any tradesman +who only paid 8<i>d.</i> for making a shirt, deducting +3<i>d.</i> from so small a remuneration; it +was disgraceful. He then ordered the money +to be paid, with expenses.</p> + +<p>Alexander Levey, a goldsmith, was tried at +the Central Criminal Court on the 10th, for the +<i>Murder of his Wife</i>. They were a quarrelsome +pair: one day, while the husband, with a knife +in his hand, was cooking a sweetbread, the wife +came in, and, in answer to his inquiry where she +had been, said she had been to a magistrate for +a warrant against him. On this, with a violent +exclamation, he stabbed her in the throat; she +ran out of the house, while he continued eating +with the knife with which he stabbed her, saying, +however, he hoped she was not much hurt. +She died in consequence of the wound. The +defense was, that the blow had been given in +the heat of passion, and the prisoner was found +guilty of manslaughter only. He was sentenced +to fifteen years' transportation.</p> + +<p>On the same day, Jane Kirtland was tried for +the <i>Manslaughter of her Husband</i>. They lived +at Shadwell, and were both addicted to drinking +and quarreling, in both which they indulged. +Kirtland having called his wife an opprobrious +name she took up a chopper, and said that if he +repeated the offensive expression, she would chop +him. He immediately repeated it with a still +more offensive addition, and at the same time +thrust his fist, in her face, when she struck him +on the elbow with the chopper, and inflicted a +wound of which he died a few days afterward. +The prisoner, when called upon for her defense, +burst into tears, and said that her husband was +constantly drunk, and that he was in the habit +of going out all day, and leaving her and her +children in a destitute state, and when he came +home he would abuse her and insult her in every +possible way. In a moment of anger she struck +him with a chopper, but she had no intention to +do him any serious injury. The jury found the +prisoner Guilty, but recommended her to mercy +on account of the provocation she had received. +She was sentenced to be kept to hard labor in +the House of Correction for six months.</p> + +<p>A coroner's inquest was held in Southwark +on the same day, respecting the death of Mrs. +Mary Carpenter, <i>an Eccentric Old Lady</i>, of +eighty-two. She had been left, by a woman +who attended her, cooking a chop for her dinner; +and soon afterward the neighbors were +alarmed by smoke coming from the house. On +breaking into her room on an upper floor, the +place was found to be on fire. The flames +were got under, but the old lady was burnt almost +to a cinder. Mrs. Carpenter was a very +singular person; she used at one time to wear +dresses so that they did not reach down to her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span> +knees. Part of her leg was exposed, but the +other was encased with milk-white stockings, +tied up with scarlet garters, the ribbons extending +to her feet, or flying about her person. In +this extraordinary dress she would sally forth to +market, followed by an immense crowd of men +and children. For some years past she discontinued +these perambulations, and lived entirely +shut up in her house in Moss-alley, the windows +of which she had bricked up, so that no +light could enter from without. Though she +had considerable freehold property, she had +only an occasional female attendant, and would +allow no other person, but the collector of her +rents, to enter her preserve.</p> + +<p>On the 12th, Mrs. Eleanor Dundas Percival, +a lady of thirty-five, destroyed herself by poison +at the Hope Coffee-house, in Fetter-lane, where +she had taken temporary apartments. <i>A Distressing +History</i> transpired at the inquest. She +was the daughter of a Scotch clergyman, and +lost the countenance of her family by marrying +a Catholic, a captain in the navy; while her +husband suffered the same penalty for marrying +a Protestant. About a year ago he and their +infant died in the West Indies; she afterward +became governess in the family of Sir Colin +Campbell, governor of Barbadoes; her health +failing, she returned to England in October last, +and had since been reduced to extreme distress. +Having been turned out of a West-end hotel, +and had her effects detained on account of her +debt contracted there, she had been received into +the apartments in Fetter-lane, partly through +the compassion of a person who resided in the +house. While there, she had written to Miss +Burdett Coutts, and, a few days before her +death, a gentleman had called on her from that +benevolent lady, who paid up the rent she owed, +amounting to £2 14<i>s.</i>, and left her 10<i>s.</i> On +the evening above-mentioned she went out, and +returned with a phial in her hand containing +morphia, which, it appeared, she swallowed on +going to bed between five and six, as she was +afterward found in a dying state, and the empty +phial beside her. The verdict was temporary +insanity.</p> + +<p><i>Elias Lucas and Mary Reeder were executed</i> +at Cambridge on the 13th. Lucas was the +husband of the female convict's sister, whom +they had poisoned. Morbid curiosity had attracted +from twenty to thirty thousand spectators. +In the procession from the jail to the +scaffold there was a great parade of county +magistrates.</p> + +<p>Louisa Hartley was charged at the Southwark +Police Court, on the 16th, with an <i>Attempt +to poison her Father</i>, who is a fellowship porter. +On the previous morning she made the coffee for +breakfast, on tasting it, it burnt Harley's mouth, +and he charged the girl with having put poison +in his cup, which she denied; he then tasted +her coffee, and found it had no unpleasant flavor. +His daughter then snatched away his cup, and +threw the contents into a wash-hand basin. But +in spite of her tears and protestations of innocence, +he took the basin to Guy's Hospital, +where it was found that the coffee must have +contained vitriol. The girl, who was said to +be of weak intellect, and stood sobbing at the +bar, being questioned, only shook her head, and +said she had nothing to say. At a subsequent +hearing the magistrate decided that there was +sufficient evidence for a committal.</p> + +<p>A man named William Bennison, a workman +in an iron-foundry, has been committed to prison +at Leith on suspicion of having <i>Poisoned his +Wife</i>. The circumstances of the case are extraordinary. +The scene of the murder is an +old-fashioned tiled house in Leith. Bennison +and his wife occupied the second floor of a +house, in which also resides Alexander Milne, +a cripple from his infancy, well known to the +frequenters of Leith Walk, where he sits daily, +in a small cart drawn by a dog. Mrs. Bennison, +after, it is said, partaking of some gruel, became +very ill, and died on Monday, the 22d inst. +The dog which drew the cripple's cart died +about the same time; suspicion was drawn +upon the husband, and he was apprehended, +and the dog's body conveyed to Surgeon's Hall +for examination. Some weeks before, Bennison +had purchased arsenic from a neighboring druggist, +to kill rats, as he said. When suspected he +called on the druggist, and requested him and his +wife not to mention that he had purchased the +arsenic. He even pressed for a written denial of +the fact, adding that there might be arsenic found +in his wife's stomach, but he did not put it there. +On the Monday previous to her death it is said +he enrolled her name in a benefit society, by +which on her death he was entitled to a sum +of £6. At the prisoner's examination before +the sheriff, the report of the chemists pronounced +the contents of the dog's stomach to have been +metallic poison. The accused was eventually +committed for trial. The deceased and her +husband were members of the Wesleyan body, +and bore an excellent character for piety. Bennison +professed to be extremely zealous in behalf +of religion, and was in the habit of administering +its consolations to such as would accept +of them. His "gifts" of extempore prayer are +said to be extensive.</p> + +<p><i>Two Men were shot at by a Gamekeeper</i> lately +in a wood belonging to Lord Wharncliffe, near +Barnsley. The game on this estate is preserved +by a solicitor, who resides near Wokefield, who +employs Joseph Hunter as gamekeeper. Both +the men were severely injured, and Cherry, one +of them, sued Hunter as the author of the +offense, in the Barnsley County Court, and the +case was heard on the 19th instant. Cherry +stated, that on the 23d February he went to +see the Badsworth hounds meet at the village +of Notton, and in coming down by the side of a +wood he saw the defendant, who asked plaintiff +and two others where the hounds were. Plaintiff +told him they were in Notton-park. These +men left Hunter, and walked down by the side +of Noroyds-wood. They went through the +wood, when one of the men who was with him<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span> +began cutting some sticks. Plaintiff then saw +Hunter, who was about twenty-five yards from +them, coming toward them: the men began to +run away, when plaintiff said to the other, +"He's going to shoot us;" and before he had +well delivered the words, he was shot in the +arm and side, and could not run with the others. +A surgeon proved that the wounds were severe +and in a dangerous part of the body. The two +men who were with the plaintiff corroborated his +evidence. The judge said that defendant deserved +to be sent to York for what he had done +already. The damages might have been laid +at £100 or £1000 had plaintiff been acting +lawfully; but he thought plaintiff had acted +with discretion in laying the damages at £10 +for which he should give a verdict, and all the +costs the law would allow.</p> + +<p><i>An Affecting Case</i> occurred at the Mansion +House on the 23d. William Powers, a boy, +was brought up on the charge of picking a gentleman's +pocket of a handkerchief. A little boy, +who had seen the theft, was witness against him. +The prisoner made a feeble attempt to represent +the witness as an accomplice; but he soon abandoned +it, and said, with tears, that he "did not +believe the other boy to be a thief at all." The +alderman, moved by his manner, asked him if +he had parents? He said he had, but they +were miserably poor. "My father was, when +I last saw him, six months ago, going into the +workhouse. What was I to do? I was partly +brought up to the tailoring business, but I can +get nothing to do at that. I am able to job +about, but still I am compelled to be idle. If I +had work, wouldn't I work! I'd be glad to +work hard for a living, instead of being obliged +to thieve and tell lies for a bit of bread." Alderman +Carden—If I send you for a month to Bridewell, +and from thence into an industrial school, +will you stick honestly to labor? The prisoner—Try +me. You shall never see me here or in +any other disgraceful situation again. Alderman +Carden—I will try you. You shall go to Bridewell +for a month, and to the School of Occupation +afterward, where you will have an opportunity +of reforming. The wretched boy expressed +himself in terms of gratitude to the +alderman, and went away, as seemed to be the +general impression in the justice-room, for the +purpose of commencing a new life.</p> + +<p>On the 5th a pilot-boat brought into Cowes +the master of the Lincoln, sailing from Boston +for California. He had reached the latitude of +4° N. and longitude 25° W., and when at 10.30 +p.m. of March 2, during a heavy shower of +rain, and without any menacing appearance in +the air, the ship was <i>Struck with Lightning</i>, +which shivered the mainmast, and darted into +the hold. On opening the scuttle, volumes of +smoke were emitted, and finding it impossible +to extinguish the fire, the crew endeavored to +stifle it by closing every aperture. In this state +they remained for nearly four days, with the fire +burning in the hold, when they were relieved +from their perilous situation by the providential +appearance of the Maria Christina, and taken +on board. Previous to leaving the ill-fated +brig, the hatches were opened, when the flames +burst forth, and in thirty minutes afterward the +mainmast fell over the side. The unfortunate +crew were most kindly treated by Captain Voss, +the master of the Maria Christina, who did every +thing in his power for their relief.</p> + +<p>A Miss Downie met, on the 4th, with an <i>Extraordinary +Death</i> at Traquair-on-the-Tweed. +She had suffered, since childhood, from severe +pains in the head and deafness; her health had +been gradually declining for the last three years, +and in August last she was seized with most +painful inflammation in the left ear, accompanied +by occasional bleedings also from the ear. +On the 20th of March an ordinary-sized metallic +pin was extracted from the left ear, which was +enveloped in a firm substance with numerous +fibres attached to it; several hard bodies, in +shape resembling the grains of buckwheat, but +of various colors, were also taken out of the +right ear. The poor girl endured the most intense +pain, which she bore with Christian fortitude +till death terminated her sufferings. It is +believed the pin must have lodged in the head +for nearly twenty years, as she never recollected +of having put one in her ear, but she had a +distinct remembrance of having, when a child, +had a pin in her mouth, which she thought she +had swallowed.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Poet Bowles.</span>—The canon's absence +of mind was very great, and when his coachman +drove him into Bath he had to practice all kinds +of cautions to keep him to time and place. The +poet once left our office in company with a well-known +antiquary of our neighborhood, since deceased, +and who was as absent as Mr. Bowles +himself. The servant of the latter came to our +establishment to look for him, and, on learning +that he had gone away with the gentleman to +whom we have referred, the man exclaimed, in +a tone of ludicrous distress, "What! those two +wandered away together? then they'll never be +found any more!" The act of composition was +a slow and laborious operation with him. He altered +and re-wrote his MS. until, sometimes, +hardly anything remained of the original, excepting +the general conception. When we add that +his handwriting was one of the worst that ever +man wrote—insomuch that frequently he could +not read that which he had written the day before—we +need not say that his printers had very +tough work in getting his works into type. At +the time when we printed for Mr. Bowles we +had one compositor in our office (his death is +recorded in our paper of to-day), who had a +sort of knack in making out the poet's hieroglyphics, +and he was once actually sent for by Mr +Bowles into Wiltshire to copy some MS. written +a year or two before, which the poet had himself +vainly endeavored to decipher.—<i>Bath Chronicle.</i><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 416px;"> +<img src="images/illo_01.jpg" width="416" height="515" alt="Portrait of Archibald Alison" title="" /> +</div> + +<h2>ARCHIBALD ALISON.</h2> + +<p>Mr. Archibald Alison, author of the "History of Europe," is son of the author of the +well-known "Essay on Taste." He holds the office of sheriff of Lanarkshire, and is much +respected in the city of Glasgow, where his official duties compel him to reside. Though educated +for the profession of the law, and daily administering justice as the principal local judge +of a populous district, Mr. Alison's tastes are entirely literary. Besides the "History of Europe," +in 20 volumes—a work which, we believe, originated in the pages of a "Scottish Annual Register," +long since discontinued—Mr. Alison has written a "Life of Marlborough" and various +economic and political pamphlets. He is also a frequent contributor to <i>Blackwood's Magazine</i>. +It is, however, upon his "History of Europe" that his fame principally rests. If Mr. Alison be +not the most successful of modern historians, we know not to whom, in preference to him, the +palm can be conceded. His work is to be found in every library, and bids fair to rank hereafter +as the most valuable production of the age in which he lived. This success is due, not only to +the importance and interest of his theme, but to the skillful, eloquent, and generally correct +manner in which he has treated it. He has, doubtless, been guilty of some errors of omission<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span> +as well as of commission, as we have heard of a literary amateur, whose chief amusement for +some years past, has been to make out a list of his mistakes; but, after all deductions of this +kind, enough of merit remains in the work to entitle its author to a place in the highest rank of +contemporary authors.</p> + +<p>The bust of Mr. Alison, of which we present an engraving, was executed in the year 1846, +and presented in marble to Mr. Alison by a body of his private friends in Glasgow, as a testimonial +of their friendship to him as an individual; of their esteem and respect for him in his +public capacity, as one of their local judges; and of their admiration of his writings. It is +considered a very excellent likeness.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>THE CORN-LAW RHYMER.</h2> + + +<p>Ebenezer Elliott not only possessed +poetical spirit, or the apparent faculty of +producing poetry, but he produced poems beautiful +in description, touching in incident and +feeling, and kindly in sentiment, when he was +kept away from that bugbear of his imagination +a landed gentleman. A man of acres, or +any upholder of the corn-laws, was to him what +brimstone and blue flames are to a certain species +of devotee, or the giant oppressor of enchanted +innocence to a mad knight-errant. In +a squire or a farmer he could see no humanity; +the agriculturist was an incarnate devil, bent +upon raising the price of bread, reducing wages, +checking trade, keeping the poor wretched and +dirty, and rejoicing when fever followed famine, +to sweep them off by thousands to an untimely +grave. According to his creed, there was no +folly, no fault, no idleness, no improvidence in +the poor. Their very crimes were brought +upon them by the gentry class. The squires, +assisted a little by kings, ministers, and farmers, +were the true origin of evil in this world of +England, whatever might be the cause of it +elsewhere.</p> + +<p>This rabid feeling was opposed to high poetical +excellence. Temper and personal passion +are fatal to art: "in the very torrent, tempest, +and (I may say) whirlwind of your passion, you +should acquire and beget a temperance that +may give it smoothness." It is also fatal to +more than art: where a person looks with the +vulgar eyes that Ebenezer Elliott used on many +occasions, there can be neither truth nor justice. +Even the satirist must observe a partial truth +and a measure in expressing it, or he sinks down +to the virulent lampooner.</p> + +<p>Part of this violence must be placed to the +natural disposition of the man, but part of it +was owing to his narrow education; by which +we mean, not so much book-learning or reading, +of which he had probably enough, but provincial +and possibly low associates. Something, perhaps, +should be ascribed to a self-sufficiency +rather morbid than proud; for we think Elliott +had a liking to be "head of the company," and +that he resented any want of public notice as +an affront, even when the parties could not +know that he was entitled to notice.</p> + +<p>These defects of character operated very +mischievously upon his works. The temper +marred his political poems; though the people, +their condition, vices, and virtues, is a theme +that, properly sung, might stir the Anglo-Saxon +race throughout the world and give immortality +to a poet. The provincial mind affected +the mass of Elliott's poems even where the subject +was removed from his prejudices; for he +had no habitual elevation or refinement of taste: +it required a favorable theme or a happy moment +to triumph over the deficiencies of nature +and education. His self-sufficiency coupled +with his provincialism seems to have prevented +him from closely criticising his productions; so +that he often published things that were prosaic +as well as faulty in other respects.</p> + +<p>The posthumous volumes before us naturally +abound in the author's peculiarities; for the +feelings of survivors are prone to err on the +side of fullness, and the friends of the lately +dead too often print indiscriminately. The consequence +is, that the publication has an air of +gatherings, and contains a variety of things +that a critical stranger would wish away. It +was proper, perhaps, to have given prose as a +specimen of the author; and the review of his +works by Southey, said to have been rejected +by the <i>Quarterly</i>, is curious for its total disregard +of the reviewer's own canons, since very +little description is given of the poems, and not +much of the characteristics of the poet. Much +of the poetry in these volumes would have been +better unpublished. Here and there we find a +touching little piece, or a bit of power; but the +greater part is not only unpoetical but trivial, +or merely personal in the expression of feeling. +There is, moreover, a savageness of tone +toward the agricultural interest, even after the +corn-laws were abolished, that looks as like +malignity as honest anger.—<i>London Spectator.</i></p> + + + +<p><a name="Page_135a" id="Page_135a"></a></p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="smcap">Madame Grandin</span>, the widow of M. Victor +Grandin, representative of the Seine Inférieure, +who died about seven or eight months since, +met with a melancholy end on the 6th, at her +residence at Elbœuf. She was confined to her +bed from illness, and the woman, who had been +watching by her during the night, had left her +but a short time, when the most piercing shrieks +were heard to proceed from her room. Her +brother ran in alarm to her assistance, but, unfortunately, +he was too late, the poor lady had +expired, having been burned in her bed. It is +supposed that in reaching to take something +from the table, her night-dress came in contact +with the lamp, and thus communicated to the +bed.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 416px;"> +<img src="images/illo_02.jpg" width="416" height="499" alt="Portrait of Thomas Babington Macaulay" title="" /> +</div> + +<h2>T. BABINGTON MACAULAY.</h2> + +<p>Mr. Macaulay, though ambitious at one time, and perhaps still, of a reputation for poetry +though an acute critic and a brilliant essayist, and though a showy and effective orator, who +could command at all times the attention of an assembly that rather dislikes studied eloquence +seems at present inclined to build up his fame upon his historical writings. Most of his admirers +consider that, in this respect, he has judged wisely. As a poet—however pleasing his "Lays of +Ancient Rome" and some of his other ballads maybe—he could never have succeeded in retaining +the affection of the public. Depth of feeling, earnest and far-seeing thought, fancy, imagination, +a musical ear, a brilliancy of expression, and an absolute mastery of words, are all equally +essential to him who, in this or any other time, would climb the topmost heights of Parnassus. +Mr. Macaulay has fancy but not imagination; and though his ear is good, and his command of +language unsurpassed by any living writer, he lacks the earnestness and the deep philosophy of +all the mighty masters of song. As a critic he is, perhaps, the first of his age; but criticism, +even in its highest developments, is but a secondary thing to the art upon which it thrives. +Mr. Macaulay has in him the stuff of which artists and originators are made, and we are of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span> +number of those who rejoice that, in the vigor of his days; he has formed a proper estimate of +his own powers, and that he has abandoned the poetical studies, in the prosecution of which he +never could have attained the first rank; and those critical corruscations which, however beautiful, +must always have been placed in a lower scale of merit than the compositions upon which +they were founded; and that he has devoted his life to the production of an original work in the +very highest department of literature.</p> + +<p>There was, at one time, a prospect before Mr. Macaulay of being one of the men who <i>make</i>, +instead of those who <i>write</i> history; but his recent retirement from parliament and from public +life has, for a while at least, closed up that avenue. In cultivating at leisure the literary pursuits +that he loves, we trust that he, as well as the world, will be the gainer, and that his "History +of England," when completed, will be worthy of so high a title. As yet the field is clear before +him. The histories that have hitherto appeared are mostly bad or indifferent. Some are good, +but not sufficiently good to satisfy the wants of the reader, or to render unnecessary the task +of more enlightened, more impartial, more painstaking, and more elegant writers. There never +was a work of art, whether in painting, sculpture, music, or literature, in which lynx-eyed criticism +could not detect a flaw, or something deficient, which the lynx-eyed critic, and he alone, +could have supplied. Mr. Macaulay's history has not escaped the ordeal, neither was it desirable +that it should; but the real public opinion of the country has pronounced itself in his favor, and +longs for the worthy completion of a task which has been worthily begun.</p> + +<p>The bust of Mr. Macaulay was executed shortly after that of Mr. Alison, and is, we believe, +in Mr. Macaulay's own possession. It is a very admirable likeness.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>MOSCOW AFTER THE CONFLAGRATION.</h2> + +<p>It was both a strange and a horrible spectacle. +Some houses appeared to have been razed; +of others, fragments of smoke-blackened walls +remained; ruins of all kinds encumbered the +streets; every where was a horrible smell of +burning. Here and there a cottage, a church, +a palace, stood erect amid the general destruction. +The churches especially, by their many-colored +domes, by the richness and variety of +their construction, recalled the former opulence +of Moscow. In them had taken refuge most of +the inhabitants, driven by our soldiers from the +houses the fire had spared. The unhappy +wretches, clothed in rags, and wandering like +ghosts amid the ruins, had recourse to the +saddest expedients to prolong their miserable +existence. They sought and devoured the +scanty vegetables remaining in the gardens; +they tore the flesh from the animals that lay +dead in the streets; some even plunged into the +river for corn the Russians had thrown there, +and which was now in a state of fermentation.... +It was with the greatest difficulty we +procured black bread and beer; meat began to +be very scarce. We had to send strong detachments +to seize oxen in the woods where the +peasants had taken refuge, and often the detachments +returned empty-handed. Such was the +pretended abundance procured us by the pillage +of the city. We had liquors, sugar, sweetmeats, +and we wanted for meat and bread. We +covered ourselves with furs, but were almost +without clothes and shoes. With great store +of diamonds, jewels, and every possible object +of luxury, we were on the eve of dying of +hunger. A large number of Russian soldiers +wandered in the streets of Moscow. I had fifty +of them seized; and a general, to whom I reported +the capture, told me I might have had +them shot, and that on all future occasions he +authorized me to do so. I did not abuse the +authorization. It will be easily understood how +many mishaps, how much disorder, characterized +our stay in Moscow. Not an officer, not a +soldier, but could tell strange anecdotes on this +head. One of the most striking is that of a +Russian whom a French officer found concealed +in the ruins of a house; by signs he assured +him of protection, and the Russian accompanied +him. Soon, being obliged to carry an order, +and seeing another officer pass at the head of a +detachment, he transferred the individual to his +charge, saying hastily—"I recommend this +gentleman to you." The second officer, misunderstanding +the intention of the words, and +the tone in which they were pronounced, took +the unfortunate Russian for an incendiary, and +had him shot.—<i>Fezensac's Journal.</i></p> + + +<p><a name="Page_137a" id="Page_137a"></a></p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class="smcap">Truth</span>.—Truth is a subject which men will +not suffer to grow old. Each age has to fight +with its own falsehoods: each man with his love +of saying to himself and those around him pleasant +things and things serviceable for to-day, +rather than things which are. Yet a child appreciates +at once the divine necessity for truth; +never asks, "What harm is there in saying the +thing there is not?" and an old man finds in his +growing experience wider and wider applications +of the great doctrine and discipline of truth.—<i>Friends +in Council.</i></p> + + +<p>A provincial paper mentions the discovery of +the <i>Original Portrait of Charles the First</i>, by +Vandyck, lost in the time of the Commonwealth, +and which has been found at Barnstaple in Devonshire. +It had been for many years in the +possession of a furniture-broker in that town, +from whom it was lately purchased by a gentleman +of the name of Taylor, for two shillings. +Mr. Taylor, the account adds, has since required +£2000 for it.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 416px;"> +<img src="images/illo_03.jpg" width="416" height="499" alt="Portrait of William H. Prescott" title="" /> +</div> + +<h2>WILLIAM H. PRESCOTT.</h2> + +<p>William H. Prescott, the American historian, is a native of Salem, Massachusetts, where +he was born on the 4th of May 1796. He is a son of the late eminent lawyer <span class="smcap">William +Prescott</span>, LL.D., of Boston, and a grandson of Colonel <span class="smcap">William Prescott</span>, who commanded +the forces in the redoubt on Breed's Hill in the memorable battle fought there on the 17th of June +1775. Mr. Prescott entered Harvard college in 1811, where his chief delight consisted in the +study of the works of ancient authors. He left Harvard in 1814, and resolved to devote a year +to a course of historical study, before commencing that of the law, his chosen profession. His +reading was suddenly checked by a rheumatic inflammation of his eyes, which for a long time, +deprived him wholly of sight. He had already lost the use of one eye by an accidental blow +while at college; doubtless the burden of study being laid upon the other overtaxed it, and +produced disease. In the autumn of 1815 he went to Europe, where he remained two years, a +greater portion of the time utterly unable to enjoy the pleasures of reading and study. He +returned to Boston in 1817, and in the course of a few years married a grand-daughter of Captain +Linzee who commanded one of the British vessels at the battle of Bunker Hill. His vision<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span> +gradually strengthened with advancing age, and he began to use his eye sparingly in reading. +The languages of continental Europe now attracted his attention, and he soon became proficient +in their use. These acquirements, and his early taste for, and intimate acquaintance with, the +best ancient writers, prepared him for those labors as a historian in which he has since been engaged.</p> + +<p>As early as 1819, Mr. Prescott conceived the idea of producing an historical work of a superior +character. For this purpose, he allowed ten years for preliminary study, and ten for the investigation +and preparation of the work. He chose for his theme the history of the life and times of +Ferdinand and Isabella of Spain; and at the end of nearly twenty years, pursuant to his original +plan, that great work was completed. He had resolved not to allow it to be published during +his lifetime, but the remark of his father, that "The man who writes a book which he is afraid to +publish, is a coward" decided him, and it went forth to the world in 1838. It was quickly republished +in London; every where it was pronounced a master-piece, and his fame was firmly +established. But little did those who read his delightful pages know of the vast toil, and patient, +persevering industry, in the midst of a great privation, which the historian had employed in his +task. His rare volumes from Spain and other sources were consulted through the medium of a +reader; the copious notes were written by a secretary; much of the work in its final shape was +written by himself with a writing machine for the blind, and in the whole preparation of this and +subsequent works, he relied far more upon his ear than his eye for aid.</p> + +<p>The "Conquest of Mexico" next followed, and his publishers sold seven thousand copies the +next year. It was published at the same time in London, and translated in Paris, Berlin, Rome, +Madrid, and Mexico. His "Conquest of Peru" followed soon afterward, and was received at +home and abroad with equal favor. The "Conquest of Mexico" has had three separate translations +into the Castilian, and the "Peru," two. They have been reprinted in English in London +and Paris, and have gone through repeated editions in this country. Whether we shall soon +have another work from Mr. Prescott's pen, is a matter of doubt, as it is understood that he +proposes to employ the last ten years of his historic life in preparing a History of the Reign of +Philip the Second of Spain. His eyes have somewhat failed in strength, and he is now able to +use them for reading less than an hour each day; "But," he says in a letter to a friend, "I am +not, and never expect to be, in the category of the blind men."</p> + +<p>Our allotted space will not permit us to take an analytical view of the character and writings +of Mr. Prescott. We can only say that great industry, sound judgment, comprehensive views, +purity of diction, and fine, flowing style in description and narrative, all governed by a genius +eminently philosophical, place him in the first rank of modern historians. Americans love him as +a cherished member of their household—throughout the Republic of Letters he is admired as one +of its brightest ornaments.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>THE ENCHANTED BATHS.</h2> + + +<p>These warm springs are natural phenomena, +which perhaps have not their equal in the +whole world. I am, therefore, quite inconsolable +at the thought of having made the long and +difficult journey from Bona, and having been five +whole days here in Guelma, within the distance +of five-and-twenty miles from those wonderful +springs, yet unable to see them. At the distance +of a mile or two from Hammam Meskutine, +thick clouds of vapor are seen rising from these +warm springs. The water is highly impregnated +with calcareous properties, whose accumulated +deposits have formed conical heaps, +some of which are upwards of thirty feet high. +From amidst these cones the springs jet forth +lofty columns of water, which descend in splendid +cascades, flowing over the ancient masonry, +and covering it with a white calcareous stratum.</p> + +<p>The mass produced by the crystalization of +the particles escaping from the seething waters, +has been, after a long lapse of years, transformed +into beautiful rose-colored marble. F—— +brought me a piece of this substance from the +springs. It is precisely similar to that used in +building the church at Guelma, which is obtained +from a neighboring quarry. From the remains +of an ancient tower and a fort, situated +near Hammam Meskutine, it is evident that these +springs were known to the Romans. An old +Arab legend records that, owing to the extreme +wickedness of the inhabitants of these districts, +God visited them with a punishment similar to +that of Lot's wife, by transforming them into +the conical heaps of chalk I have mentioned above. +To this day, the mass of the people +firmly believe that the larger cones represent +the parents, and the smaller ones, the children.</p> + +<p>Owing to the high temperature, the surrounding +vegetation is clothed in the most brilliant +green; and the water of a tepid brook, which +flows at the foot of the cascades, though in itself +as clear as a mirror, appears to be of a beautiful +emerald color. F—— told me that he was not +a little surprised to see in this warm rivulet a +multitude of little fishes sporting about, as lively +as though they had been in the coolest water. +This curious natural phenomenon is explainable +by the fact, that in this rivulet, which is of considerable +depth, the under-currents are sufficiently +cool to enable the fish to live and be healthy, +though the upper current of water is so warm, +that it is scarcely possible to hold the hand in it +any longer than a few seconds. The hilly environs +of Hammam Meskutine are exceedingly +beautiful, and around the waters perpetual spring +prevails.—<i>Travels in Barbary.</i><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>LITERARY NOTICES.</h2> + + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">Letters of A Traveler</span>; or, Notes of Things +seen in Europe and America. By William +Cullen Bryant. 12mo, pp. 442. New York: +G.P. Putnam.</p></blockquote> + +<p>Every one will welcome a volume of descriptive +sketches from the eminent American poet. +The author has made a collection of letters, +written at wide intervals from each other, during +different journeys both in Europe and in this country, +rightly judging that they possess sufficient +elements of interest to claim a less ephemeral +form than that in which most of them have been +already presented to the public. They consist +of the reminiscences of travel in France, Italy, +England, the Netherlands, Cuba, and the most +interesting portions of the United States. Arranged +in the order of time, without reference to +subject or place, the transition from continent to +continent is often abrupt, and sometimes introduces +us without warning into scenes of the +utmost incongruity with those where we had +been lingering under the spell of enchantment +which the author's pen throws around congenial +objects. Thus we are transported at once from +the delicious scenery and climate of Tuscany, +and the dreamy glories of Venice, to the horse +thieves and prairie rattlesnakes of Illinois, making +a break in the associations of the reader +which is any thing but agreeable. The method +of grouping by countries would be more natural, +and would leave more lively impressions both +on the imagination and the memory.</p> + +<p>Mr. Bryant's style in these letters is an admirable +model of descriptive prose. Without +any appearance of labor, it is finished with an +exquisite grace, showing the habitual elegance +and accuracy of his mental habits. The genial +love of nature, and the lurking tendency to humor, +which it every where betrays, prevent its severe +simplicity from running into hardness, and give +it a freshness and occasional glow, in spite of its +entire want of <i>abandon</i>, and its prevailing conscious +propriety and reserve.</p> + +<p>The criticisms on Art, in the European portions +of the work, are less frequent than we +could have wished, and although disclaiming all +pretensions to connoisseurship, are of singular +acuteness and value. Mr. B.'s description of +his first impressions of Power's Greek Slave, +which he saw in London in 1845, has a curious +interest at the present time, as predicting the +reputation which has since been gained by that +noble piece of statuary.</p> + +<p>We notice rather a singular inadvertence for +one who enjoys such distinguished opportunities +of "stated preaching" in a remark in the first letter +from Paris, that "Here, too, was the tree which +was the subject of the first Christian miracle, the +fig, its branches heavy with the bursting fruit just +beginning to ripen for the market." If the first +miracle was not the turning of water into wine, +we have forgot our catechism.</p> + + +<blockquote><p><br /><span class="smcap">Eldorado; or, Adventures in the Path of +Empire</span>; comprising a Voyage to California, +<i>via</i> Panama; Life in San Francisco and Monterey; +Pictures of the Gold Region, and Experiences +of Mexican Travel. By Bayard +Taylor. In two vols., 12mo, pp. 251, 247. +New York: G.P. Putnam.</p></blockquote> + +<p>California opens as rich a field for adventure +to the collector of literary materials, as to the +emigrant in pursuit of gold. We shall yet have +the poetry, the romance, the dramatic embodiment +of the strange life in the country of yellow +sands. Already it has drawn forth numerous +authors, describing the results of their experience, +in nearly every variety of style, from the +unpretending statement of every-day occurrences, +to the more ambitious attempts of +graphic descriptive composition. The spectacle +of a mighty nation, springing suddenly into +life, has been made so familiar to us, by the +frequent narratives of eye-witnesses, that we +almost lose sight of its unique and marvelous +character, surpassing the dreams of imagination +which have so wildly reveled in the magnificent +promises of the nineteenth century.</p> + +<p>Mr. Taylor's book is presented to us at the +right moment. It completes the series of valuable +productions which have been born of the +Californian excitement, supplying their deficiencies, +and viewing the subject from the highest +point that has yet been attained by any traveler. +He possesses many admirable qualifications for +the task which he has performed. With a natural +enthusiasm for travel, a curiosity that never +tires, and a rare power of adapting himself to +novel situations and strange forms of society, he +combines a Yankee shrewdness of perception, a +genial hilarity of spirit, and a freshness of poetical +illustration, which place him in the very first +rank of intelligent travelers. His European +experiences were of no small value in his Californian +expedition. He had learned from them +the quickness of observation, the habit of just +comparison, the facility of manners, and the +familiarity with foreign languages, which are +essential to the success of the tourist, and enable +him to feel equally at home beneath the +dome of St. Peter's, or in the golden streets of +San Francisco.</p> + +<p>Mr. Taylor visited California with no intention +of engaging in traffic or gold-hunting. He +had no private purposes to serve, no offices to +seek, no plans of amassing sudden wealth to +execute. He was, accordingly, able to look at +every thing with the eye of an impartial spectator. +He has described what he saw in a style +which is equally remarkable for its picturesque +beauty and its chaste simplicity. His descriptions +not only give you a lively idea of the objects +which they set forth, but the most favorable +impression of the author, although he never +allows any striking prominence to the first person<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span> +singular. As a manual for the Californian +traveler, as well as a delightful work for the +home circle, these volumes will be found to be +at once singularly instructive and charming, and +will increase the enviable reputation which has +been so well won by the youthful author, as a +man both of genius and of heart.</p> + +<p>We must not close our notice without refreshing +our pages with at least one specimen of +Mr. Taylor's felicitous descriptions. Here is a +bit of fine painting, which gives us a vivid idea +of the scenery on the road between San Francisco +and the San Joaquin:</p> + +<blockquote><p class="center"><span class="smcap">scenery of the inland.</span></p> + +<p>Our road now led over broad plains, through occasional +belts of timber. The grass was almost entirely burned +up, and dry, gravelly arroyos, in and out of which we +went with a plunge and a scramble, marked the courses +of the winter streams. The air was as warm and balmy +as May, and fragrant with the aroma of a species of +gnaphalium, which made it delicious to inhale. Not a +cloud was to be seen in the sky, and the high, sparsely-wooded +mountains on either hand showed softened and +indistinct through a blue haze. The character of the +scenery was entirely new to me. The splendid valley, +untenanted except by a few solitary rancheros living +many miles apart, seemed to be some deserted location +of ancient civilization and culture. The wooded slopes +of the mountains are lawns, planted by Nature with a +taste to which Art could add no charm. The trees have +nothing of the wild growth of our forests; they are +compact, picturesque, and grouped in every variety of +graceful outline. The hills were covered to the summit +with fields of wild oats, coloring them, as far as the eye +could reach, with tawny gold, against which the dark, +glossy green of the oak and cypress showed with peculiar +effect. As we advanced further, these natural harvests +extended over the plain, mixed with vast beds of wild +mustard, eight feet in height, under which a thick crop +of grass had sprung up, furnishing sustenance to the thousands +of cattle, roaming every where unherded. The only +cultivation I saw was a small field of maize, green and +with good ears.</p></blockquote> + +<p>Mr. Taylor occasionally indulges in a touch +of natural transcendentalism, as in his comparison +between the Palm and the Pine, with which +we take our leave of his fascinating volumes:</p> + +<blockquote><p>I jogged steadily onward from sunrise till blazing noon, +when, having accomplished about half the journey, I +stopped under a palm-tree and let my horse crop a little +grass, while I refreshed myself with the pine-apple. Not +far off there was a single ranche, called Piedra Gorda—a +forlorn-looking place where one can not remain long without +being tortured by the sand-flies. Beyond it, there is +a natural dome of rock, twice the size of St. Peter's, +capping an isolated mountain. The broad intervals of +meadow between the wastes of sand were covered with +groves of the beautiful fan-palm, lifting their tufted tops +against the pale violet of the distant mountains. In lightness, +grace, and exquisite symmetry, the Palm is a perfect +type of the rare and sensuous expression of Beauty in the +South. The first sight of the tree had nearly charmed me +into disloyalty to my native Pine; but when the wind +blew, and I heard the sharp, dry, metallic rustle of its +leaves, I retained the old allegiance. The truest interpreter +of Beauty is in the voice, and no tree has a voice +like the Pine, modulated to a rythmic accord with the +subtlest flow of Fancy, touched with a human sympathy +for the expression of Hope and Love and Sorrow, and +sounding in an awful undertone, to the darkest excess of +Passion.</p></blockquote> + + +<blockquote><p><br /><span class="smcap">Standish the Puritan</span>. A Tale of the American +Resolution. By Edward Grayson, Esq. +12mo, pp. 320. New York: Harper and +Brothers.</p></blockquote> + +<p>A novel by a sharp-eyed Manhattaner, illustrating +some of the more salient aspects of New +York society at the period of the revolutionary +war, and combining many of the quaint traditions +of that day in a narrative of very considerable +interest and power. The author wields a satirical +pen of more than common vigor, and in his +descriptions of the state of traffic and the legal +profession at the time of his story, presents a +series of piquant revelations which, if founded +on personal history, would cause many "a galled +jade to wince," if revivified at the present day. +His style does not exhibit a very practiced hand +in descriptive composition, nor is it distinguished +for its dramatic power; but it abounds in touches +of humor and pathos, which would have had still +greater effect if not so freely blended with moral +disquisitions, in which the author seems to take +a certain mischievous delight. In spite of these +drawbacks, his book is lively and readable, entitling +the author to a comfortable place among +the writers of American fiction, and if he will +guard against the faults we have alluded to, his +future efforts may give him a more eminent, +rank than he will be likely to gain from the +production before us.</p> + + +<blockquote><p><br /><span class="smcap">Talbot and Vernon</span>. A Novel. 12mo, pp +513. New York: Baker and Scribner.</p></blockquote> + +<p>The plot of this story turns on a point of circumstantial +evidence, by which the hero escapes +the ruin of his reputation and prospects, when +arraigned as a criminal on a charge of forgery. +The details are managed with a good deal of +skill, developing the course of affairs in such a +gradual manner, that the interest of the reader +never sleeps, until the final winding-up of the +narrative. Familiar with the routine of courts +of law, betraying no slight acquaintance with +the springs of human action, and master of a +bold and vigorous style of expression, the author +has attained a degree of success in the execution +of his plan, which gives a promising augury of +future eminence. In the progress of the story, +the scene shifts from one of the western cities +of the United States to the camp of General +Taylor on the plains of Mexico. Many stirring +scenes of military life are introduced with excellent +effect, as well as several graphic descriptions +of Mexican scenery and manners. The +battle of Buena Vista forms the subject of a +powerful episode, and is depicted with a life-like +energy. We presume the author is more conversant +with the bustle of a camp than with the +tranquil retirements of literature, although his +work betrays no want of the taste and cultivation +produced by the influence of the best books. +But he shows a knowledge of the world, a +familiarity with the scenes and topics of every +day life, which no scholastic training can give, +and which he has turned to admirable account +in the composition of this volume.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>Fashions for Early Summer.</h2> + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 416px;"> +<img src="images/illo_04.jpg" width="416" height="539" alt="ball and visiting dresses" title="" /> +</div> + +<p>There is a decided tendency in fashion this season to depart from simplicity in dress, and to +adopt the extreme ornamental elegance of the middle ages. Bonnets, dresses, and mantles +are trimmed all over with puffings of net, lace, and flowers. A great change has taken place in +the width of skirts, which, from being very large, are now worn almost narrow. Ball dresses +<i>à tablier</i> (apron trimming, as seen in the erect figure on the left of the above group) are much +in vogue, covered with puffings of net. The three flounces of lace, forming the trimming of +the bottom of the dress, have all a puffing of net at the top of them; the whole being fastened<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span> +to the apron with a rosette of ribbon. A precious gem is sometimes worn in the centre of the +rosette, either diamond, emerald, +or ruby, according to the +color of the dress. Wreaths +are worn very full, composed +of flowers and fruits of every +kind; they are placed on the +forehead, and the branches +at the end of them are long, +and fall on the neck. Bouquets, +in shape of bunches, +are put high up on the body +of the dress. Such is the +mania in Paris and London +for mixing fruits of every +kind, that some even wear +small apples, an ornament +far less graceful than bunches +of currants, grapes, and +tendrils of the vine. The +taste for massive ornaments +is so decided, that roses and +poppies of enormous dimensions +are preferred. For +young persons, wreaths of +delicate flowers, lightly fastened, +and falling upon the +shoulders, are always the +prettiest. Silks of light texture, +in the styles which the +French manufacturers designate +<i>chiné</i>, will be generally +employed for walking dresses +until the extreme heat of +summer arrives, when they +will be superseded by French +barèges, having flounces woven with borders, consisting of either satin stripes or flowers. Many +of the patterns are in imitation of <i>guipure</i> lace. The most admired of the French light silks +are those wrought upon a white +ground, the colors including almost +every hue. In some the ground is +completely covered by rich arabesque +patterns. These <i>chinés</i>, on +account of the Oriental designs, +have obtained the name of Persian +silks. Worsted lace is the height +of fashion for mantles, which are +trimmed with quillings of this article, +plaited in the old style. The +dresses are made with several +flounces, narrower than last year, +and more numerous. Nearly all +the sleeves of visiting dresses are +Chinese, or "pagoda" fashion. +The bodies are open in front, and +laced down to the waist, as seen in +the figure in the group, standing +behind the sitting figure. Low +dresses are made falling on the +shoulders, and straight across the +chest; others are quite square, and +others are made in the shape of a +heart before and behind. Opera +polkas are worn short, with wide +sleeves, trimmed with large bands +of ermine.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span></p> + + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" width="100%" summary=""> + +<tr><td><div class="figcenter" style="width: 316px;"> +<img src="images/illo_05.jpg" width="316" height="363" alt="straw hats for promenade." title="" /><br /> +<span class="caption"><small>STRAW HATS FOR PROMENADE</small>.</span> +</div></td> + +<td><div class="figcenter" style="width: 255px;"> +<img src="images/illo_06.jpg" width="255" height="285" alt="straw bonnet." title="" /><br /> +<span class="caption"><small>STRAW BONNET</small>.</span> +</div></td> + +<td><div class="figcenter" style="width: 255px;"> +<img src="images/illo_07.jpg" width="255" height="349" alt="tulip bonnet." title="" /><br /> +<span class="caption"><small>TULIP BONNET</small>.</span> +</div></td></tr> + +</table></div> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 255px;"> +<img src="images/illo_08.jpg" width="255" height="429" alt="the lace jacquette." title="" /><br /> +<span class="caption"><small>THE LACE JACQUETTE</small>.</span> +</div> + +<p><br />Broad-brimmed straw hats are used +for the promenade; open-work straw bonnets, +of different colors, are adopted for +the earlier summer wear, trimmed with +branches of lilac, or something as appropriate. +White drawn silk bonnets, covered +with foldings of net, are much +worn. Also, drawn lace and crape +bonnets, and black and white lace ones, +are worn. Branches of fruit are much +worn upon these last-mentioned bonnets. +The tulip bonnet is composed of +white silk, covered with white spotted +<i>tulle</i>; the edges of the front foliated, so +as to give it a graceful and airy appearance. +Many of the straw bonnets are +of dark-colored ground, ornamented with +fine open straw work. <i>Crinoline</i> hats, +of open pattern, trimmed generally with +a flower or feathers, are worn to the +opera. They are exceedingly graceful +in appearance, and make a +fine accompaniment to a fancy +dress.</p> + +<p><br />Elegant black lace jackets, +with loosely-hanging sleeves, +are worn, and form a beautiful +portion of the dress of a +well-developed figure. There +is a style of walking dress, +worn by those who have less +love for ornaments. The robe +is of a beautiful light apple-green +silk, figured with white. +The skirt is unflounced, but +ornamented up the front with +a row of green and white +fancy silk buttons. Bonnet +of pink crape, drawn in very +full <i>bouillonnées</i>; strings of +pink satin ribbon, and on one +side a drooping bouquet of +small pink flowers. Corresponding +bouquets in the inside +trimming. Shawl of pink +China crape, richly embroidered +with white silk.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>FOOTNOTES:</h2> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> The usual age for the ceremony among the wealthy +India.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_2" id="Footnote_2_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_2"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> The celebrated tragedian.</p></div> + +<p> </p> + +<div class="tnotes"><h3>Transcriber's Notes:</h3> + +<div class="tnote"><p>Obvious punctuation errors have been repaired, other punctuations have +been left as printed in the paper book.</p></div> + +<div class="tnote"><p>Erroneous page numbers in Table of Content corrected.</p></div> + +<div class="tnote"><p>Obvious printer's errors have been repaired, other inconsistent +spellings have been kept, including:<br /> +- use of hyphen (e.g. "death-bed" and "deathbed");<br /> +- accents (e.g. "Republique" and "République");<br /> +- any other inconsistent spellings (e.g. "fairy" and "faery").</p></div> + +<div class="tnote"><p>Following proper names have been corrected:<br /> +- In the Table of Content: "Farraday" corrected to be "Faraday" (Faraday, and Mantell), +"Oldenburgh" corrected to be "Oldenburg" (Duchy of Oldenburg");<br /> +- Pg 116, "Lecler" corrected to be "Leclerc" (whether M. Leclerc or).<br /></p></div> + +<div class="tnote"><p>In the Table of Content, word "of" added (Arrest of M. Proudhon).</p></div> + +<div class="tnote"><p>Pg 33, word "I" removed (I [I] don't see).</p></div> + +<div class="tnote"><p>Pg 77, title added to article (Tunnel of the Alps).</p></div> + +<div class="tnote"><p>Pg 85, word "is" removed (is [is] expressly mentioned).</p></div> + +<div class="tnote"><p>Pg 113, word "been" changed to "be seen" (to be seen riding).</p></div> +</div> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Harper's New Monthly Magazine, Vol. 1. +No 1, June 1850, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HARPER'S NEW MONTHLY *** + +***** This file should be named 39190-h.htm or 39190-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/9/1/9/39190/ + +Produced by Judith Wirawan, David Kline, and The Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net. + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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