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diff --git a/old/7elsw10.txt b/old/7elsw10.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..bf6b16c --- /dev/null +++ b/old/7elsw10.txt @@ -0,0 +1,19899 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Elson Grammer School Literature, Book Four. +by William H. Elson and Christine Keck + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the +copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing +this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook. + +This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project +Gutenberg file. Please do not remove it. Do not change or edit the +header without written permission. + +Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the +eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is +important information about your specific rights and restrictions in +how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + + +Title: Elson Grammer School Literature, Book Four. + +Author: William H. Elson and Christine Keck + +Release Date: November, 2004 [EBook #6963] +[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] +[This file was first posted on February 17, 2003] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ELSON GRAMMER SCHOOL LIT. 4 *** + + + + +This eBook was produced by Steve Schulze, Charles Franks +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + + + + + + + +ELSON + +GRAMMAR SCHOOL LITERATURE + +BOOK FOUR + + +BY + +WILLIAM H. ELSON + +SUPERINTENDENT OF SCHOOLS, CLEVELAND, OHIO + +AND + +CHRISTINE KECK + +PRINCIPAL OF SIGSBEE SCHOOL, GRAND RAPIDS, MICH. + +1912 + + + + +TABLE OF CONTENTS + +PART I--Famous Rides, Selections from Shakespeare and other Poets, and +Studies in Rhythm. + +FAMOUS RIDES: + +PAUL REVERE'S RIDE, Henry W. Longfellow +THE LEAP OF ROUSHAN BEG, Henry W. Longfellow +THE CHARGE OF THE LIGHT BRIGADE AT BALAKLAVA, Alfred, Lord Tennyson +THE DIVERTING HISTORY OF JOHN GILPIN, William Cowper +HOW THEY BROUGHT THE GOOD NEWS FROM GHENT TO AIX, Robert Browning +INCIDENT OF THE FRENCH CAMP, Robert Browning +HERVE RIEL, Robert Browning + +STUDIES IN RHYTHM: + +THE BUGLE SONG, Alfred, Lord Tennyson +THE BROOK, Alfred, Lord Tennyson +SONG OF THE CHATTAHOOCHEE, Sidney Lanier +THE CATARACT OF LODORE, Robert Southey +THE BELLS, Edgar Allan Poe +ANNABEL LEE, Edgar Allan Poe +OPPORTUNITY, Edward Rowland Sill + +NATURE: + +TO A WATERFOWL, William Cullen Bryant +THE SKYLARK, James Hogg +TO A SKYLARK, Percy Bysshe Shelley +THE CLOUD, Percy Bysshe Shelley +APOSTROPHE TO THE OCEAN, Lord Byron + +STORIES: + +THE DESTRUCTION OF SENNACHERIB, Lord Byron +THE EVE BEFORE WATERLOO, Lord Byron +SONG OF THE GREEK BARD, Lord Byron +MARCO BOZZARIS, Fitz-Greene Halleck +THE BURIAL OF SIR JOHN MOORE, Charles Wolfe +ABSALOM, Nathaniel Parker Wills +LOCHINVAR, Sir Walter Scott +PARTING OF MARMION AND DOUGLAS, Sir Walter Scott +FOR A' THAT AND A' THAT, Robert Burns + +SELECTIONS FROM SHAKESPEARE: + +MERCY, The Merchant of Venice +THE SEVEN AGES OF MAN, As You Like It +POLONIUS'S ADVICE, Hamlet +MAN, Hamlet +HAMLET'S SOLILOQUY, Hamlet +REPUTATION, Othello +WOLSEY AND CROMWELL, King Henry VIII +CASSIO AND IAGO, Othello + + +PART II--Great American Authors + +WASHINGTON IRVING + RIP VAN WINKLE + THE VOYAGE + +NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE + THE GREAT STONE FACE + MY VISIT TO NIAGARA + +EDGAR ALLAN POE + A DESCENT INTO THE MAELSTROeM + THE RAVEN + +HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW + EVANGELINE: A TALE OF ACADIE + THE BUILDING OF THE SHIP + +JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER + SNOW-BOUND + THE SHIP BUILDERS + +OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES + THE CHAMBERED NAUTILUS + THE DEACON'S MASTERPIECE; OR THE WONDERFUL "ONE-HOSS SHAY" + OLD IRONSIDES + THE BOYS + THE LAST LEAF + +JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL + THE VISION OF SIR LAUNFAL + YUSSOUF + +SIDNEY LANIER + THE MARSHES OF GLYNN + + +PART III--Patriotic Selections + +REGULUS BEFORE THE ROMAN SENATE, Epes Sargent +THE RETURN OF REGULUS, Elijah Kellogg +SPARTACUS TO THE GLADIATORS, Elijah Kellogg +MERIT BEFORE BIRTH, Sallust +RIENZI'S ADDRESS TO THE ROMANS, Mary Russell Mitford +EMMET'S VINDICATION Robert Emmet +KING PHILLIP TO THE WHITE SETTLER, Edward Everett +THE CAPTURE OF QUEBEC, Francis Parkman +ENGLAND AND HER COLONIES, Edmund Burke +THE WAY TO WEALTH, Benjamin Franklin +SPEECH ON A RESOLUTION TO PUT VIRGINIA INTO A STATE OF DEFENCE, Patrick Henry +THE MAN WITHOUT A COUNTRY, Edward Everett Hale +LOVE OF COUNTRY, Sir Walter Scott +NAPOLEON BONAPARTE, Charles Phillips +THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS, Charles Sumner +THE EVILS OF WAR, Henry Clay +PEACE, THE POLICY OF A NATION, John C. Calhoun +THE FIRST SETTLEMENT OF NEW ENGLAND, Daniel Webster +SUPPOSED SPEECH OF JOHN ADAMS, Daniel Webster +SOUTH CAROLINA AND THE UNION, Robert Hayne +REPLY TO HAYNE, Daniel Webster +DEDICATION SPEECH AT GETTYSBURG, Abraham Lincoln +LINCOLN, THE GREAT COMMONER, Edwin Markham +O CAPTAIN, MY CAPTAIN, Walt Whitman +FAREWELL ADDRESS, George Washington +THE MEMORY OF OUR FATHERS, Henry Ward Beecher +THE AMERICAN FLAG, J. R. Drake +WARREN'S ADDRESS AT THE BATTLE OF BUNKER HILL, John Pierpont +COLUMBUS, Joaquin Miller RECESSIONAL--A VICTORIAN, Rudyard Kipling +A DEFINITION OF A GENTLEMAN, Cardinal Newman + + + +COURSE OF READING + +In the ELSON READERS selections are grouped according to theme or +authorship. This arrangement, however, is not intended to fix an order for +reading in class; its purpose is to emphasise classification, facilitate +comparison, and enable pupils to appreciate similarities and contrasts in +the treatment of like themes by different authors. + +To give variety, to meet the interests at different seasons and festivals, +and to go from prose to poetry and from long to short selections, a +carefully planned order of reading should be followed. Such an order of +reading calls for a full consideration of all the factors mentioned above. +The Course here offered meets these ends but may easily be varied to fit +local conditions. + +FIRST HALF-YEAR + +BIOGRAPHY OF HAWTHORNE +THE GREAT STONE FACE +MY VISIT TO NIAGARA +THE DIVERTING HISTORY OF JOHN GILPIN +HOW THEY BROUGHT THE GOOD NEWS +INCIDENT OF THE FRENCH CAMP +HERVE RIEL +COLUMBUS (COLUMBUS'S BIRTHDAY, OCT. 12) +SUPPOSED SPEECH OF JOHN ADAMS +SPEECH OF RESOLUTION TO PUT VIRGINIA INTO A STATE OF DEFENCE +THE EVE BEFORE WATERLOO +THE BUGLE SONG +BIOGRAPHY OF HOLMES +THE CHAMBERED NAUTILUS +THE DEACON'S MASTERPIECE +OLD IRONSIDES +THE BOYS +THE LAST LEAF +MERIT BEFORE BIRTH +WEBSTER-HAYNE DEBATE +THE BROOK +THE SONG OF THE CHATTAHOOCHEE +THE CATARACT OF LODORE +BIOGRAPHY OF POE +A DESCENT INTO THE MAELSTROeM +THE RAVEN +ANNABEL LEE +THE BELLS +BIOGRAPHY OF WHITTIER (WHITTIER'S BIRTHDAY, DEC. 17) +SNOW-BOUND (WHITTIER'S BIRTHDAY, DEC. 17) +THE SHIP-BUILDERS (WHITTIER'S BIRTHDAY, DEC. 17) +REGULUS BEFORE THE ROMAN SENATE +THE RETURN OF REGULUS +SPARTACUS TO THE GLADIATORS +THE WAY TO WEALTH (FRANKLIN'S BIRTHDAY, JAN, 17) +EMMET'S VINDICATION +MARCO BOZZARIS +RIENZI'S ADDRESS TO THE ROMANS +BIOGRAPHY OF LANIER (LANIER'S BIRTHDAY, FEB. 3) +THE MARSHES OF GLYNN (LANIER'S BIRTHDAY, FEB. 3) + + +SECOND HALF-YEAR + +LOVE OF COUNTRY +WARREN'S ADDRESS +PEACE, THE POLICY OF A NATION +THE AMERICAN FLAG (LINCOLN'S BIRTHDAY, FEB. 12) +LINCOLN, THE GREAT COMMONER (LINCOLN'S BIRTHDAY, FEB. 12) +DEDICATION SPEECH (LINCOLN'S BIRTHDAY, FEB. 12) +O CAPTAIN, MY CAPTAIN (WASHINGTON'S BIRTHDAY, FEB. 22) +FAREWELL ADDRESS (WASHINGTON'S BIRTHDAY, FEB. 22) +BIOGRAPHY OF LOWELL (LOWELL'S BIRTHDAY, FEB. 22) +THE VISION OF SIR LAUNFAL (LOWELL'S BIRTHDAY, FEB. 22) +YUSSOUF (LOWELL'S BIRTHDAY, FEB. 22) +BIOGRAPHY OF LONGFELLOW (LONGFELLOW'S BIRTHDAY, FEB. 27) +EVANGELINE (LONGFELLOW'S BIRTHDAY, FEB. 27) +THE BUILDING OF THE SHIP (LONGFELLOW'S BIRTHDAY, FEB. 27) +NAPOLEON BONAPARTE +THE EVILS OF WAR +BIOGRAPHY OF IRVING (IRVING'S BIRTHDAY, APRIL 3) +RIP VAN WINKLE (IRVING'S BIRTHDAY, APRIL 3) +THE VOYAGE (IRVING'S BIRTHDAY, APRIL 3) +PAUL REVERE'S RIDE (APRIL 19) +THE LEAP OF ROUSHAN BEG +THE CHARGE OF THE LIGHT BRIGADE +SELECTIONS FROM SHAKESPEARE (SHAKESPEARE'S BIRTHDAY, APRIL 23) +TO A WATER FOWL +THE SKYLARK +TO A SKYLARK (SPRING AND ARBOR DAY) +THE CLOUD +APOSTROPHE TO THE OCEAN +ABSALOM +LOCHINVAR +PARTING OF MARMION AND DOUGLAS +FOR A' THAT AND A' THAT +KING PHILIP TO THE WHITE SETTLER +THE CAPTURE OF QUEBEC +ENGLAND AND HER COLONIES +THE MAN WITHOUT A COUNTRY +OPPORTUNITY +THE DESTRUCTION OF SENNACHERIB +SONG OF THE GREEK BARD +THE BURIAL OF SIR JOHN MOORE +THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS +THE MEMORY OF OUR FATHERS +THE RECESSIONAL + + + + +INTRODUCTION + +This book is designed to furnish reading material of choice literary and +dramatic quality. The selections for the most part are those that have +stood the test of time and are acknowledged masterpieces. The groupings +into the separate parts will aid both teachers and pupils in the +classification of the material, indicating at a glance the range and +variety of the literature included. + +Part One deals with poetry, and it is believed the poems offered in this +group are unsurpassed. No effort on the teacher's part will be needed to +arouse the enthusiasm of pupils who read the series of famous rides with +which this group opens. The thrill of delight which children feel as they +read of "A hurry of hoofs in a village street," or "Charging an army while +all the world wondered," may lead to the stronger and more enduring +emotions of patriotism and devotion. "John Gilpin's Ride," which has +furnished amusement for generations of old and young, finds a place here. +The rhythmic movement of these poems makes a natural transition to those +selections especially designed as studies in rhythm. The series of nature +poems and selections from Shakespeare complete a group of choice literary +creations. Part Two is given to a study of the great American authors, and +no apology is needed either for the choice of material or for the +prominence given to this group. It is especially suited to parallel and +supplement the work of this grade in American history. Part Three contains +patriotic selections and some of the great orations. These are lofty and +inspiring in style, within the grasp of the pupils, and are especially +helpful in developing power of expression. + +It is not expected that the order of selections will be followed. On the +contrary, each teacher will follow the order which will best suit her own +plans and purposes. While there is much material in the book that will +re-enforce lessons in history, geography, and nature study, yet it is not +for this that these selections should be studied, but rather for the +pleasure that comes from reading beautiful thoughts beautifully expressed. +The reading lesson should therefore be a study of literature, and it should +lead the children to find beauty of thought and imagery, fitness in figures +of speech, and delicate shades of meaning in words. Literature is an art, +and the chief aim of the reading lesson is to discover and interpret its +art qualities. In this way children learn how to read books and are enabled +to appreciate the literary treasures of the race. The business of the +reading book is to furnish the best available material for this purpose. + +It is worth while to make a thorough study of a few well-chosen selections. +Through the power gained in this way children are enabled to interpret and +enjoy other selections without the aid of the teacher. If the class work is +for the most part of the intensive kind, the pupils will read the remaining +lessons alone for sheer pleasure, which is at once the secret and goal of +good teaching in literature. Moreover, they will exercise a discriminating +taste and judgment in their choice of reading matter. To love good +literature, to find pleasure in reading it and to gain power to choose it +with discrimination are the supreme ends to be attained by the reading +lesson. For this reason, some selections should be read many times for the +pleasure they give the children. In music the teacher sometimes calls for +expressions of preference among songs: "What song shall we sing, children?" +So in reading, "What selection shall we read?" is a good question for the +teacher to ask frequently. Thus children come to make familiar friends of +some of the stories and poems, and find genuine enjoyment in reading these +again and again. + +Good results may also be obtained by assigning to a pupil a particular +lesson which he is expected to prepare. On a given day he will read to the +class the selection assigned to him. The orations are especially suited to +this mode of treatment. The pupil who can read one selection well has gone +a long way toward being a good reader. The teacher who said to her pupils, +"I shall read to you tomorrow," recognized this truth and knew the value of +an occasional exercise of that kind. Good pedagogy approves of a judicious +use of methods of imitation in teaching reading. + +The biographies are intended to acquaint the children with the personal +characteristics and lives of the authors, making them more interesting and +real to the children, giving them the human touch and incidentally +furnishing helpful data for interpreting their writings. In this +connection, the authors have, by permission, drawn freely from Professor +Newcomer's English and American Literatures. "Helps to Study" include +questions and notes designed to stimulate inquiry on the part of pupils and +to suggest fruitful lines of study. Only a few points are suggested, to +indicate the way, and no attempt is made to cover the ground adequately; +this remains for the teacher to do. + +While placing emphasis primarily on the thought-getting process the +formalities of thought-giving must not be overlooked. The technique of +reading, though always subordinate and secondary to the mastery of the +thought, nevertheless claims constant and careful attention. Good reading +requires clear enunciation and correct pronunciation and these can be +secured only when the teacher steadily insists upon them. The increase of +foreign elements in our school population and the influence of these upon +clearness and accuracy of speech furnish added reason for attention to +these details. Special drill exercises should be given and the habit of +using the dictionary freely should be firmly established in pupils. The +ready use of the dictionary and other reference books for pronunciation and +meaning of words, for historical and mythical allusions should be steadily +cultivated. Without doubt much of the reading accepted in the public +schools is seriously deficient in these particulars. The art of good +reading can be cultivated by judicious training and the school should spare +no pains to realize this result. + +Professor Clark, in his book on "How to Teach Reading," sets forth the four +elements of vocal expression--Time, Pitch, Quality and Force. We quote a +few of the sentences from his treatment of each of these elementary topics. + +"I. TIME. Time, then, refers to the rate of vocal movement. It may be fast, +or moderate, or slow, according to the amount of what may be called the +collateral thinking accompanying the reading, of any given passage. To put +it another way: a phrase is read slowly because it means much; because the +thought is large, sublime, deep. The collateral thinking may be revealed by +an expansive paraphrase. For instance, in the lines + + "Not a drum was heard, not a funeral note + As his corse to the rampart we hurried," + +_why_ do we read slowly? The paraphrase answers the question. It was +midnight. There lay our beloved leader, who should have been borne in +triumphal procession to his last resting place. Bells should have tolled, +cannon thundered, and thousands should have followed his bier. But now, +alas, by night, by stealth, without even a single drum tap, in fear and +dread, we crept breathless to the rampart. This, or any one of a hundred +other paraphrases, will suffice to render the vocal movement slow. And so +it is with all slow time. Let it be remembered that a profound or sublime +thought may be uttered in fast time; but that when we dwell upon that +thought, when we hold it before the mind, the time must necessarily be +slow. If a child read too rapidly, it is because his mind is not +sufficiently occupied with the thought; if he read too slowly, it is +because he does not get the words; or because he is temperamentally slow; +or because, and this is the most likely explanation, he is making too much +of a small idea. To tell him to read fast or slow is but to make him +affected, and, incidentally, even if unconsciously, to impress upon him +that reading is a matter of mechanics, and not of thought-getting and +thought-giving." + +"II. PITCH. By Pitch is meant everything that has to do with the acuteness +or gravity of the tone--in other words, with keys, melodies, inflections +and modulations. When we say of one that he speaks in a high key, we should +be understood as meaning that his pitch is prevailingly high; and that the +reverse is true when we say of one that he speaks in a low key. While it is +true that the key differs in individuals, yet experience shows that within +a note or two, we all use the same keys in expressing the same states of +minds. The question for us is, what determines the key? It can be set down +as a fixed principle, that controlled mental states are expressed by low +keys, while the high keys are the manifestation of the less controlled +mental conditions. Drills in inflections as such are of very little value, +and potentially very harmful. Most pupils have no difficulty in making +proper inflections, so that for them class drills are time wasted; for +those whose reading is monotonous, because of lack of melodic variety, the +best drills are those which teach them to make a careful analysis of the +sentences, and those which awaken them to the necessity of impressing the +thought upon others. We have learned that when a pupil has the proper +motive in mind and is desirous of conveying his intention to another, a +certain melody will always manifest that intention. The melody, then, is +the criterion of the pupil's purpose. The moment a pupil loses sight of a +phrase and its relation to the other phrases, that moment his melody +betrays him." + +"III. QUALITY. Quality manifests emotional states. By Quality we mean that +subtle element in the voice by which is expressed at one time tenderness, +at another harshness, at another awe, and so on through the whole gamut of +feeling. The teacher now knows that emotion affects the quality of tone. +Let him then use this knowledge as he has learned to use his knowledge of +the other criteria. We recognize instinctively the qualities that express +sorrow, tenderness, joy, and the other states of feeling. When the proper +quality does not appear it is because the child has no feeling, or the +wrong feeling, generally the former. There is but one way to correct the +expression, i. e., by stimulating the imagination." + +"IV. FORCE. Force manifests the degree of mental energy. When we speak in a +loud voice, there is much energy; when softly, there is little. Do not tell +the child to read louder. If you do, you will get loudness--that awful +grating schoolboy loudness--without a particle of expression in it. Many a +child reads well, but is bashful. When we tell him to read louder, he +braces himself for the effort and kills the quality, which is the finer +breath and spirit of oral expression, and gives us a purely physical +thing--force. Put your weak-voiced readers on the platform; let them face +the class and talk to you, seated in the middle of the room, and you will +get all the force you need. On the whole, we have too much force, rather +than too little. Let the teacher learn that we want quality, not quantity, +and our statement of the mental action behind force will be of much benefit +in creating the proper conditions." + +To discriminating teachers it will be apparent that this book is not the +usual school reader. On the contrary it differs widely from this in the +cultural value of the selections, in the classification and arrangement of +material, in the variety of interest to which it appeals, and in the +abundance of classic literature from American authors which it contains. It +aims to furnish the best in poetry and prose to be found in the literature +of the English-speaking race and to furnish it in abundance. If these +familiar old selections, long accepted as among the best in literature, +shall be the means of cultivating in pupils a taste for good reading, the +book will have fulfilled its purpose. + +For permission to use valuable selections from their lists, acknowledgment +is due to Messrs. Houghton, Mifflin and Company, Charles Scribner's Sons, +and The Whitaker and Ray Company. + +Grateful acknowledgment is also made to those teachers who have given +valuable suggestions and criticisms in the compilation of this book. + +THE AUTHORS. + +April, 1909. + + * * * * * + + "We live in deeds, not years, in thoughts, not breaths; + In feelings, not in figures on a dial." + +PHILIP JAMES BAILEY. + + + + +PART I. + +FAMOUS RIDES, SELECTIONS FROM SHAKESPEARE AND OTHER POETS, AND STUDIES IN +RHYTHM + + * * * * * + +PAUL REVERE'S RIDE + +HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW + + + Listen, my children, and you shall hear + Of the midnight ride of Paul Revere, + On the eighteenth of April, in Seventy-five: + Hardly a man is now alive + Who remembers that famous day and year. + + He said to his friend: "If the British march + By land or sea from the town tonight, + Hang a lantern aloft in the belfry-arch + Of the North Church tower, as a signal-light,-- + One if by land, and two if by sea; + And I on the opposite shore will be, + Ready to ride and spread the alarm + Through every Middlesex village and farm, + For the country-folk to be up and to arm." + + Then he said "good night," and with muffled oar + Silently rowed to the Charlestown shore, + Just as the moon rose over the bay, + Where, swinging wide at her moorings, lay + The Somerset, British man-of-war: + A phantom ship, with each mast and spar + Across the moon, like a prison-bar, + And a huge black hulk, that was magnified + By its own reflection in the tide. + + Meanwhile, his friend through alley and street + Wanders and watches with eager ears, + Till in the silence around him he hears + The muster of men at the barrack-door, + The sound of arms, and the tramp of feet, + And the measured tread of the grenadiers + Marching down to their boats on the shore. + + Then he climbed to the tower of the church, + Up the wooden stairs, with stealthy tread, + To the belfry-chamber overhead, + And startled the pigeons from their perch + On the sombre rafters, that round him made + Masses and moving shapes of shade,-- + Up the trembling ladder, steep and tall, + To the highest window in the wall, + Where he paused to listen and look down + A moment on the roofs of the town, + And the moonlight flowing over all. + + Beneath, in the churchyard, lay the dead + In their night-encampment on the hill, + Wrapped in silence so deep and still, + That he could hear, like a sentinel's tread, + The watchful night-wind, as it went + Creeping along from tent to tent, + And seeming to whisper, "All is well!" + A moment only he feels the spell + Of the place and the hour, the secret dread + Of the lonely belfry and the dead; + For suddenly all his thoughts are bent + On a shadowy something far away, + Where the river widens to meet the bay,-- + A line of black, that bends and floats + On the rising tide, like a bridge of boats. + + Meanwhile, impatient to mount and ride, + Booted and spurred, with a heavy stride, + On the opposite shore walked Paul Revere. + Now he patted his horse's side, + Now gazed at the landscape far and near, + Then impetuous stamped the earth, + And turned and tightened his saddle-girth; + But mostly he watched with eager search + The belfry-tower of the old North Church, + As it rose above the graves on the hill, + Lonely, and spectral, and sombre, and still. + And lo! as he looks, on the belfry's height, + A glimmer, and then a gleam of light! + He springs to the saddle, the bridle he turns, + But lingers and gazes, till full on his sight + A second lamp in the belfry burns! + + A hurry of hoofs in a village-street, + A shape in the moonlight, a bulk in the dark, + And beneath from the pebbles, in passing, a spark + Struck out by a steed flying fearless and fleet: + That was all! And yet, through the gloom and the light, + The fate of a nation was riding that night; + And the spark struck out by that steed, in his flight, + Kindled the land into flame with its heat. + + He has left the village and mounted the steep, + And beneath him, tranquil and broad and deep, + Is the Mystic, meeting the ocean tides; + And under the alders, that skirt its edge, + Now soft on the sand, now loud on the ledge, + Is heard the tramp of the steed as he rides. + + It was twelve by the village-clock + When he crossed the bridge into Medford town. + He heard the crowing of the cock, + And the barking of the farmer's dog, + And felt the damp of the river-fog + That rises after the sun goes down. + + It was one by the village-clock + When he galloped into Lexington. + He saw the gilded weathercock + Swim in the moonlight as he passed, + And the meeting-house windows, blank and bare, + Gaze at him with a spectral glare, + As if they already stood aghast + At the bloody work they would look upon. + + It was two by the village-clock + When he came to the bridge in Concord town. + He heard the bleating of the flock, + And the twitter of birds among the trees, + And felt the breath of the morning-breeze + Blowing over the meadows brown. + And one was safe and asleep in his bed + Who at the bridge would be first to fall, + Who that day would be lying dead, + Pierced by a British musket-ball. + + You know the rest. In the books you have read + How the British regulars fired and fled,-- + How the farmers gave them ball for ball, + From behind each fence and farmyard-wall, + Chasing the redcoats down the lane, + Then crossing the fields to emerge again + Under the trees at the turn of the road, + And only pausing to fire and load. + + So through the night rode Paul Revere; + And so through the night went his cry of alarm + To every Middlesex village and farm,-- + A cry of defiance, and not of fear,-- + A voice in the darkness, a knock at the door, + And a word that shall echo forevermore! + For, borne on the night-wind of the Past, + Through all our history, to the last, + In the hour of darkness and peril and need, + The people will waken and listen to hear + The hurrying hoof-beats of that steed, + And the midnight-message of Paul Revere. + + + +HELPS TO STUDY. + + +Notes and Questions. + +What message did Paul Revere bear? + +Read an account of the battle of Lexington and observe how nearly this poem +is true to history. + +Who were John Hancock and Samuel Adams? + +What does the second stanza tell you? The seventh stanza? + +Does this poem call your attention chiefly to the horse, the rider, or the +message? + +Sketch a map locating Boston, Charlestown, Medford, Lexington, Concord. + + +Words and Phrases for Discussion. + + "the fate of a nation was riding that night" + "gaze at him with a spectral glare" + "the spark struck out by that steed in his flight + kindled the land into flame with its heat" + "sombre" + "red-coats" + "fearless and fleet" + + * * * * * + + +THE LEAP OF ROUSHAN BEG + +HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW + + + Mounted on Kyrat strong and fleet, + His chestnut steed with four white feet, + Roushan Beg, called Kurroglou, + Son of the road and bandit chief, + Seeking refuge and relief, + Up the mountain pathway flew. + + Such was the Kyrat's wondrous speed, + Never yet could any steed + Reach the dust-cloud in his course. + More than maiden, more than wife, + More than gold and next to life + Roushan the Robber loved his horse. + + In the land that lies beyond + Erzeroum and Trebizond, + Garden-girt, his fortress stood; + Plundered khan, or caravan + Journeying north from Koordistan, + Gave him wealth and wine and food. + + Seven hundred and fourscore + Men at arms his livery wore, + Did his bidding night and day; + Now, through regions all unknown, + He was wandering, lost, alone, + Seeking, without guide, his way. + + Suddenly the pathway ends, + Sheer the precipice descends, + Loud the torrent roars unseen; + Thirty feet from side to side + Yawns the chasm; on air must ride + He who crosses this ravine. + + Following close in his pursuit, + At the precipice's foot + Reyhan the Arab of Orfah + Halted with his hundred men, + Shouting upward from the glen, + "La Illah ilia Allah!" + + Gently Roushan Beg caressed + Kyrat's forehead, neck and breast; + Kissed him upon both his eyes, + Sang to him in his wild way, + As upon the topmost spray + Sings a bird before it flies. + + "O my Kyrat, O my steed, + Bound and slender as a reed, + Carry me this peril through! + Satin housings shall be thine, + Shoes of gold, O Kyrat mine, + O thou soul of Kurroglou! + + "Soft thy skin as silken skein, + Soft as woman's hair thy mane, + Tender are thine eyes and true; + All thy hoofs like ivory shine, + Polished bright; O life of mine, + Leap, and rescue Kurroglou!" + + Kyrat, then, the strong and fleet, + Drew together his four white feet, + Paused a moment on the verge, + Measured with his eye the space, + And into the air's embrace + Leaped as leaps the ocean surge. + + As the ocean surge o'er sand + Bears a swimmer safe to land, + Kyrat safe his rider bore; + Rattling down the deep abyss + Fragments of the precipice + Rolled like pebbles on a shore. + + Roushan's tasseled cap of red + Trembled not upon his head; + Careless sat he and upright; + Neither hand nor bridle shook, + Nor his head he turned to look, + As he galloped out of sight. + + Flash of harness in the air, + Seen a moment, like the glare + Of a sword drawn from its sheath; + Thus the phantom horseman passed, + And the shadow that he cast + Leaped the cataract underneath. + + Reyhan the Arab held his breath + While this vision of life and death + Passed above him. "Allahu!" + Cried he. "In all Koordistan + Lives there not so brave a man + As this Robber Kurroglou!" + + +HELPS TO STUDY. + + +Notes and Questions. + +What does the first stanza tell? + +The second? + +What is the purpose of the fifth stanza? + +What comparison is found in the seventh stanza? In the eighth? In the +ninth? + +What do we mean by "figure of speech?" Illustrate. + +State in your own words the thought in the eleventh stanza. + +In next to the last stanza give the meaning of the last three lines. + +What lesson of heroism does this poem give you? + +Whom should you call the hero of this tale? + +Who is Allah? Where is Koordistan? + + +Words and Phrases for Discussion. + + "phantom" + "verge" + "caravan" + "abyss" + "garden-girt" + "cataract" + + * * * * * + + +THE CHARGE OF THE LIGHT BRIGADE AT BALAKLAVA + +ALFRED, LORD TENNYSON + + Half a league, half a league, + Half a league onward, + All in the valley of Death + Rode the six hundred. + "Forward, the Light Brigade! + Charge for the guns!" he said: + Into the valley of Death + Rode the six hundred. + "Forward, the Light Brigade!" + Was there a man dismay'd? + Not tho' the soldier knew + Some one had blunder'd: + Theirs not to make reply, + Theirs not to reason why, + Theirs but to do and die: + Into the valley of Death + Rode the six hundred. + + Cannon to right of them, + Cannon to left of them, + Cannon in front of them + Volley'd and thunder'd; + Storm'd at with shot and shell, + Boldly they rode and well, + Into the jaws of Death, + Into the mouth of Hell + Rode the six hundred. + Flash'd all their sabres bare, + Flash'd as they turn'd in air + Sabring the gunners there, + Charging an army, while + All the world wonder'd; + Plunged in the battery-smoke + Right thro' the line they broke; + Cossack and Russian + Reel'd from the sabre-stroke + Shatter'd and sunder'd. + Then they rode back, but not, + Not the six hundred. + + Cannon to right of them, + Cannon to left of them, + Cannon behind them + Volley'd and thunder'd; + Stormed at with shot and shell, + While horse and hero fell, + They that had fought so well + Came through the jaws of Death + Back from the mouth of Hell, + All that was left of them, + Left of six hundred. + + When can their glory fade! + Oh the wild charge they made! + All the world wondered. + Honor the charge they made! + Honor the Light Brigade, + Noble six hundred! + + + +HELPS TO STUDY. + +Biographical and Historical: Alfred Tennyson was born in that memorable +birth year, 1809, which brought into the world a company of the greatest +men of the century, including Darwin, Gladstone, Lincoln, Poe, Chopin, and +Mendelssohn. He was one of twelve children who lived together a healthful +life of study and sport. Gathering the other children about him he held +them captive with his stories of knightly deeds--tales drawn partly from +his reading and partly from his fertile fancy. They lived again the +thrilling life of joust and tournament. Past the house in the village of +Somersby, in Lincolnshire, where his father was rector, flowed a brook, in +all probability the brook that came "from haunts of coot and hern... to +bicker down a valley." He was a student at Cambridge, where he met and +became deeply attached to Arthur Henry Hallam, whose death not long +afterward inspired the poem "In Memoriam." In 1850, upon Wordsworth's +death, Tennyson was made poet laureate and the poem commemorating the +heroic charge at Balaklava in 1854, "The Charge of the Light Brigade," +shows how he adorned this office. In 1884 the queen raised him to the +peerage, and from that time he was known as Lord Tennyson. He lived as much +in retirement as was possible, part of the time making his home in the Isle +of Wight. He died in 1892 and was buried in the Poets' Corner in +Westminster Abbey. + +The event which this poem describes occurred at Balaklava in the Crimea, +October 25th, 1854. Of six hundred seven men only about one hundred fifty +survived. The order to charge, bearing the signature of Lord Lucan, was +delivered by Captain Nolan to the Earl of Cardigan, who was in command of +the "Light Brigade." Nolan was killed in the charge while Cardigan +survived. The death of Nolan made it impossible to determine whether the +signature to the order was genuine or forged. + +It was in this war that Florence Nightingale rendered such noble service as +hospital nurse. She arrived at Balaklava ten days after this charge. + + +Notes and Questions. + +On your map find Balaklava on the Black Sea. + +What nation attacked the Russians? + +What was the significance of Sevastopol? + +What is a brigade? A light brigade? + +What is meant by "charging an army"? + +Who had "blundered"? + +What lines tell you that obedience is the first duty of the soldier? + +What line tells you how vain and hopeless was this charge? + +How does the poem impress you? + + +Words and Phrases for Discussion. + + "Valley of Death" + "half a league" + "the mouth of Hell" + "the jaws of Death" + "dismay'd" + "volley'd and thunder'd" + + * * * * * + + +THE DIVERTING HISTORY OF JOHN GILPIN + +WILLIAM COWPER + + John Gilpin was a citizen + Of credit and renown, + A trainband captain eke was he + Of famous London town. + + John Gilpin's spouse said to her dear, + "Though wedded we have been + These twice ten tedious years, yet we + No holiday have seen. + + "Tomorrow is our wedding day, + And we will then repair + Unto the Bell at Edmonton, + All in a chaise and pair + + "My sister, and my sister's child, + Myself, and children three, + Will fill the chaise, so you must ride + On horseback after we." + + He soon replied, "I do admire + Of womankind but one, + And you are she, my dearest dear, + Therefore, it shall be done. + + "I am a linen-draper bold, + As all the world doth know, + And my good friend, the calender, + Will lend his horse to go." + + Quoth Mrs. Gilpin, "That's well said: + And for that wine is dear, + We will be furnished with our own, + Which is both bright and clear." + + John Gilpin kissed his loving wife; + O'erjoyed was he to find + That, though on pleasure she was bent, + She had a frugal mind. + + The morning came, the chaise was brought, + But yet was not allowed + To drive up to the door, lest all + Should say that she was proud. + + So three doors off the chaise was stayed, + Where they did all get in; + Six precious souls, and all agog + To dash through thick and thin. + + Smack went the whip, 'round went the wheels, + Were never folks so glad; + The stones did rattle underneath + As if Cheapside were mad. + + John Gilpin at his horse's side + Seized fast the flowing mane, + And up he got, in haste to ride, + But soon came down again; + + For saddle-tree scarce reached had he, + His journey to begin, + When, turning round his head, he saw + Three customers come in. + + So down he came; for loss of time, + Although it grieved him sore, + Yet loss of pence, full well he knew, + Would trouble him much more. + + 'Twas long before the customers + Were suited to their mind, + When Betty screaming came down stairs,-- + "The wine is left behind!" + + "Good lack!" quoth he, "yet bring it me, + My leathern belt likewise, + In which I bear my trusty sword + When I do exercise." + + Now Mrs. Gilpin, careful soul, + Had two stone bottles found, + To hold the liquor that she loved, + And keep it safe and sound. + + Each bottle had a curling ear, + Through which the belt he drew, + And hung a bottle on each side, + To make his balance true. + + Then, over all, that he might be + Equipped from top to toe, + His long red cloak, well brushed and + He manfully did throw. + + Now see him mounted once again, + Upon his nimble steed, + Full slowly pacing o'er the stones + With caution and good heed. + + But finding soon a smoother road + Beneath his well-shod feet, + The snorting beast began to trot, + Which galled him in his seat. + + So "Fair and softly" John he cried, + But John he cried in vain; + That trot became a gallop soon, + In spite of curb and rein. + + So stooping down, as needs he must + Who cannot sit upright, + He grasped the mane with both his hands, + And eke with all his might. + + His horse, which never in that sort + Had handled been before, + What thing upon his back had got + Did wonder more and more. + + Away went Gilpin, neck or nought; + Away went hat and wig; + He little dreamed when he set out + Of running such a rig. + + The wind did blow, the cloak did fly, + Like streamer long and gay, + Till, loop and button failing both, + At last it flew away. + + Then might all people well discern, + The bottles he had slung; + A bottle swinging at each side, + As hath been said or sung. + + The dogs did bark, the children screamed, + Up flew the windows all, + And every soul cried out, "Well done!" + As loud as he could bawl. + + Away went Gilpin--who but he? + His fame soon spread around; + "He carries weight, he rides a race! + 'Tis for a thousand pound!" + + And still, as fast as he drew near, + 'Twas wonderful to view, + How in a trice the turnpike men + Their gates wide open threw. + + And now, as he went bowing down + His reeking head full low, + The bottles twain behind his back + Were shattered at a blow. + + Down ran the wine into the road, + Most piteous to be seen, + Which made his horse's flanks to smoke + As they had basted been. + + But still he seemed to carry weight, + With leathern girdle braced; + For all might see the bottle necks + Still dangling at his waist. + + Thus all through merry Islington + These gambols he did play, + Until he came unto the wash + Of Edmonton so gay; + + And there he threw the wash about + On both sides of the way, + Just like unto a trundling mop, + Or a wild goose at play. + + At Edmonton his loving wife + From the balcony spied + Her tender husband, wondering much + To see how he did ride. + + "Stop, stop, John Gilpin! Here's the house!" + They all at once did cry; + "The dinner waits and we are tired." + Said Gilpin, "So am I!" + + But yet his horse was not a whit + Inclined to tarry there; + For why? his owner had a house + Full ten miles off, at Ware. + + So like an arrow swift he flew, + Shot by an archer strong; + So did he fly--which brings me to + The middle of my song. + + Away went Gilpin, out of breath, + And sore against his will, + Till, at his friend the calender's, + His horse at last stood still. + + The calender, amazed to see + His neighbor in such trim, + Laid down his pipe, flew to the gate, + And thus accosted him: + + "What news? what news? your tidings tell; + Tell me you must and shall; + Say why bareheaded you are come, + Or why you come at all?" + + Now Gilpin had a pleasant wit, + And loved a timely joke; + And thus unto the calender, + In merry guise, he spoke: + + "I came because your horse would come; + And, if I well forbode, + My hat and wig will soon be here:-- + They are upon the road." + + The calender, right glad to find + His friend in merry pin, + Returned him not a single word, + But to the house went in; + + Whence straight he came with hat and wig; + A wig that flowed behind, + A hat not much the worse for wear, + Each comely in its kind. + + He held them up and in his turn + Thus showed his ready wit: + "My head is twice as big as yours, + They, therefore, needs must fit. + + But let me scrape the dirt away + That hangs upon your face; + And stop and eat, for well you may + Be in a hungry case." + + Said John, "It is my wedding day, + And all the world would stare, + If wife should dine at Edmonton + And I should dine at Ware." + + So, turning to his horse, he said, + "I am in haste to dine; + 'Twas for your pleasure you came here, + You shall go back for mine." + + Ah! luckless speech and bootless boast, + For which he paid full dear; + For while he spake, a braying ass + Did sing most loud and clear; + + Whereat his horse did snort, as he + Had heard a lion roar, + And galloped off with all his might, + As he had done before. + + Away went Gilpin, and away + Went Gilpin's hat and wig: + He lost them sooner than at first; + For why?--they were too big. + + Now Mistress Gilpin, when she saw + Her husband posting down + Into the country far away, + She pulled out half a crown; + + And thus unto the youth she said, + That drove them to the Bell, + "This shall be yours when you bring back + My husband safe and well." + + The youth did ride, and soon did meet + John coming back amain; + Whom in a trice he tried to stop + By catching at his rein; + + But not performing what he meant + And gladly would have done, + The frightened steed he frighted more, + And made him faster run. + + Away went Gilpin, and away + Went postboy at his heels, + The postboy's horse right glad to miss + The lumbering of the wheels. + + Six gentlemen upon the road, + Thus seeing Gilpin fly, + With postboy scampering in the rear, + They raised the hue and cry;-- + + "Stop thief! stop thief! a highwayman!" + Not one of them was mute; + And all and each that passed that way + Did join in the pursuit. + + And now the turnpike gates again + Flew open in short space; + The toll-men thinking as before, + That Gilpin rode a race. + + And so he did, and won it too, + For he got first to town; + Nor stopped till where he had got up + He did again get down. + + Now let us sing "Long Live the King," + And Gilpin, long live he; + And when he next doth ride abroad + May I be there to see! + + + +HELPS TO STUDY. + +Biographical: William Cowper, 1731-1800, was a famous English poet. His +poems range from religious to humorous subjects. + + +Notes and Questions. + +What was the occasion of the ride? + +What tells you that the linen-draper lived over his shop? + +Which stanza is most amusing? + +Why did people think John Gilpin rode for a wager? + +Edmonton--a suburb of London. + +The Bell--the Inn. + + +Words and Phrases for Discussion. + + "calender" + "eke" + "chaise and pair" + "frugal" + "gambols" + "trainband" + "repair" + "he carries weight" + "for that wine is dear" + "turnpike" + "basted" + "bootless boast" + "the postboy's horse right glad to miss the lumbering of the wheels" + + * * * * * + + +HOW THEY BROUGHT THE GOOD NEWS FROM GHENT TO AIX + +ROBERT BROWNING + + I sprang to the stirrup, and Joris, and he; + I galloped, Dirck galloped, we galloped all three; + "Good speed!" cried the watch, as the gate-bolts undrew; + "Speed!" echoed the wall to us galloping through; + Behind shut the postern, the lights sank to rest, + And into the midnight we galloped abreast. + + Not a word to each other; we kept the great pace + Neck by neck, stride by stride, never changing our place; + I turned in my saddle and made its girths tight, + Then shortened each stirrup, and set the pique right, + Rebuckled the cheek-strap, chained slacker the bit, + Nor galloped less steadily Roland a whit. + + 'Twas moonset at starting; but while we drew near + Lokeren, the cocks crew and twilight dawned clear; + At Boom, a great yellow star came out to see; + At Dueffeld, 'twas morning as plain as could be; + And from Mecheln church-steeple we heard the half-chime, + So Joris broke silence with, "Yet there is time!" + + At Aershot, up leaped of a sudden the sun, + And against him the cattle stood black every one, + To stare through the mist at us galloping past, + And I saw my stout galloper Roland at last, + With resolute shoulders, each butting away + The haze, as some bluff river headland its spray: + + And his low head and crest, just one sharp ear bent back + For my voice, and the other pricked out on his track; + And one eye's black intelligence,--ever that glance + O'er its white edge at me, his own master, askance + And the thick heavy spume-flakes which aye and anon + His fierce lips shook upwards in galloping on. + + By Hasselt, Dirck groaned; and cried Joris, "Stay spur! + Your Roos galloped bravely, the fault's not in her, + We'll remember at Aix"--for one heard the quick wheeze + Of her chest, saw the stretched neck and staggering knees, + And sunk tail, and horrible heave of the flank, + As down on her haunches she shuddered and sank. + + So, we were left galloping, Joris and I, + Past Looz and past Tongres, no cloud in the sky; + The broad sun above laughed a pitiless laugh, + 'Neath our feet broke the brittle bright stubble like chaff; + Till over by Dalhem, a dome-spire sprang white, + And "Gallop," gasped Joris, "for Aix is in sight!" + + "How they'll greet us!"--and all in a moment his roan + Rolled neck and croup over, lay dead as a stone; + And there was my Roland to bear the whole weight + Of the news which alone could save Aix from her fate, + With his nostrils like pits full of blood to the brim, + And with circles of red for his eye-sockets' rim. + + Then I cast loose my buffcoat, each holster let fall, + Shook off both my jack-boots, let go belt and all, + Stood up in the stirrup, leaned, patted his ear, + Called my Roland his pet-name, my horse without peer; + Clapped my hands, laughed and sang, any noise, bad or good, + Till at length into Aix Roland galloped and stood. + + And all I remember is--friends flocking round + As I sat with his head 'twixt my knees on the ground; + And no voice but was praising this Roland of mine, + As I poured down his throat our last measure of wine, + Which (the burgesses voted by common consent) + Was no more than his due who brought good news from Ghent. + + + +HELPS TO STUDY. + +Biographical and Historical: Robert Browning was born in a suburb of London +in 1812. His four grandparents were respectively of English, German, +Scotch, and Creole birth. After his marriage with the poet, Elizabeth +Barrett, he lived in Italy, where in the old palace Casa Guidi, in +Florence, they spent years of rare companionship and happiness. After her +death he returned to England, but spent most of his summers abroad. On the +Grand Canal, in Venice, the gondoliers point out a palace where at his +son's home, Browning died in 1889. He was buried in the Poets' Corner, +Westminster Abbey. + +Browning's poems are not easy to read, because he condenses so much into a +word or phrase and he often leaves large gaps to be filled in by the +reader's imagination. Any one can make selections of lines and even entire +poems from Tennyson, Poe, Southey, and Lanier, in which the poet has +created for us verbal music and beauty. Browning, however, is not so much +concerned with this side of poetry as he is with portraying correctly the +varied emotions of the human soul. + +"Love in the largest sense, as the divine principle working through all +nature, is at the very center of Browning's creed. His is the heartiest, +happiest, most beautiful poetic voice that his age has read. He stands +apart from most others of his kind and age in the positiveness of his +religious faith, a faith that is based upon a conviction of the conquering +universality of love and self-sacrifice." + +"How They Brought the Good News" is without historical basis; the ride +occurred only in the imagination of the poet. The inspiration came from +Browning's longing for a horseback gallop over the English downs. + + +Notes and Questions. + +Find Ghent and Aix la Chapelle on your map. + +What was probably the nature of the "good news" carried by the messengers? + +How many messengers were there? + +What makes you think so? + +What does the fifth stanza tell you? + +What tells you the praise given Roland? + +The rhythm suggests the gallop of the horses. In which lines is this +suggestion most marked? + +Indicate the rhythmic movement. + + +Words and Phrases for Discussion. + + "postern" + "pique" + "askance" + "burgesses" + "stirrup" + "twilight" + "haunches" + "holster" + "Good speed! cried the watch as the gate-bolts undrew" + "With resolute shoulders each butting away + The haze, as some bluff river headland its spray" + + * * * * * + + +INCIDENT OF THE FRENCH CAMP + +ROBERT BROWNING + + You know, we French stormed Ratisbon: + A mile or so away, + On a little mound, Napoleon + Stood on our storming-day; + With neck out-thrust, you fancy how, + Legs wide, arms locked behind, + As if to balance the prone brow + Oppressive with its mind. + + Just as perhaps he mused, "My plans + That soar, to earth may fall, + Let once my army-leader, Lannes, + Waver at yonder wall,"-- + Out 'twixt the battery-smokes there flew + A rider, bound on bound + Full-galloping; nor bridle drew + Until he reached the mound. + + Then off there flung in smiling joy, + And held himself erect + By just his horse's mane, a boy: + You hardly could suspect-- + (So tight he kept his lips compressed, + Scarce any blood came through) + You looked twice ere you saw his breast + Was all but shot in two. + + "Well," cried he, "Emperor, by God's grace, + We've got you Ratisbon! + The marshal's in the market-place, + And you'll be there anon + To see your flag-bird flap his vans + Where I, to heart's desire, + Perched him!" The chief's eye flashed; his plans + Soared up again like fire. + + The chiefs eye flashed; but presently + Softened itself, as sheathes + A film the mother eagle's eye + When her bruised eaglet breathes: + "You're wounded!" "Nay," the soldier's pride + Touched to the quick, he said: + "I'm killed, sire!" And his chief beside, + Smiling, the boy fell dead. + + + +HELPS TO STUDY. + + +Notes and Questions. + +On your map find Ratisbon on the Danube River. + +What picture have you of Napoleon from reading this poem? + +What word used figuratively tells you of the rider's speed? + +Tell the story of the boy rider. + +What was the mission of the boy who rode alone? + +Was his heroism greater because he was alone? + + +Words and Phrases for Discussion. + + "stormed" + "soar" + "prone" + "waver" + "battery-smokes" + "vans" + "sheathes" + "film" + + * * * * * + + +HERVE RIEL + +ROBERT BROWNING + + + On the sea and at the Hogue, sixteen hundred ninety-two, + Did the English fight the French--woe to France! + And the thirty-first of May, helter-skelter through the blue, + Like a crowd of frightened porpoises a shoal of sharks pursue, + Came crowding ship on ship to St. Malo on the Rance, + With the English fleet in view. + + 'Twas the squadron that escaped, with the victor in full chase; + First and foremost of the drove, in his great ship, Damfreville; + Close on him fled, great and small, + Twenty-two good ships in all; + And they signalled to the place, + "Help the winners of a race! + Get us guidance, give us harbor, take us quick--or, quicker still, + Here's the English can and will!" + + Then the pilots of the place put out brisk and leapt on board; + "Why, what hope or chance have ships like these to pass?" laughed they: + "Rocks to starboard, rocks to port, all the passage scarred and +scored,-- + Shall the "Formidable" here, with her twelve and eighty guns, + Think to make the river-mouth by the single narrow way, + Trust to enter--where 'tis ticklish for a craft of twenty tons, + And with flow at full beside? + Now, 'tis slackest ebb of tide. + Reach the mooring? Rather say, + While rock stands or water runs, + Not a ship will leave the bay!" + + Then was called a council straight. + Brief and bitter the debate: + "Here's the English at our heels; would you have them take in tow + All that's left us of the fleet, linked together stern and bow, + For a prize to Plymouth Sound? Better run the ships aground!" + (Ended Damfreville his speech). + "Not a minute more to wait! + Let the captains all and each + Shove ashore, then blow up, burn the vessels on the beach! + France must undergo her fate. + + "Give the word!" But no such word + Was ever spoke or heard: + For up stood, for out stepped, for in struck, amid all these,-- + A captain? a lieutenant? a mate,--first, second, third? + No such man of mark, and meet + With his betters to compete! + But a simple Breton sailor, pressed by Tourville for the fleet, + A poor coasting-pilot, he,---Herve Riel, the Croisickese. + + And "What mockery or malice have we here?" cried Herve Riel. + "Are you mad, you Malouins? Are you cowards, fools, or rogues? + Talk to me of rocks and shoals?--me, who took the soundings, tell + On my fingers every bank, every shallow, every swell, + 'Twixt the offing here and Greve, where the river disembogues? + Are you bought by English gold? Is it love the lying's for? + Morn and eve, night and day, + Have I piloted your bay, + Entered free and anchored fast at the foot of Solidor. + Burn the fleet, and ruin France? That were worse than fifty Hogues! + Sirs, they know I speak the truth! Sirs, believe me, there's way! + Only let me lead the line, + Have the biggest ship to steer, + Get this _Formidable_ clear, + Make the others follow mine, + And I lead them, most and least, by a passage I know well, + Right to Solidor past Greve, + And there lay them safe and sound; + And if one ship misbehave,-- + Keel so much as grate the ground, + Why, I've nothing but my life,--here's my head!" cries Herve Riel. + + Not a minute more to wait. + "Steer us in, then, small and great! + Take the helm, lead the line, save the squadron!" cried its chief. + Captains, give the sailor place! + He is Admiral, in brief. + Still the north-wind, by God's grace! + See the noble fellow's face + As the big ship, with a bound, + Clears the entry like a hound, + Keeps the passage, as its inch of way were the wide sea's profound! + See, safe thro' shoal and rock, + How they follow in a flock, + Not a ship that misbehaves, not a keel that grates the ground, + Not a spar that comes to grief! + The peril, see, is past. + All are harbored to the last, + And just as Herve Riel hollas "Anchor!" sure as fate, + Up the English come,--too late! + + So, the storm subsides to calm: + They see the green trees wave + On the heights o'erlooking Greve. + Hearts that bled are stanched with balm. + "Just our rapture to enhance, + Let the English rake the bay, + Gnash their teeth and glare askance + As they cannonade away! + 'Neath rampired Solidor pleasant riding on the Rance!" + How hope succeeds despair on each captain's countenance! + Out burst all with one accord, + "This is paradise for hell! + Let France, let France's king, + Thank the man that did the thing!" + What a shout, and all one word, + "Herve Riel!" + As he stepped in front once more; + Not a symptom of surprise + In the frank blue Breton eyes,-- + Just the same man as before. + + Then said Damfreville, "My friend, + I must speak out at the end, + Though I find the speaking hard; + Praise is deeper than the lips; + You have saved the king his ships; + You must name your own reward. + Faith, our sun was near eclipse! + Demand whate'er you will, + France remains your debtor still. + Ask to heart's content, and have! or my name's not Damfreville." + + Then a beam of fun outbroke + On the bearded mouth that spoke, + As the honest heart laughed through + Those frank eyes of Breton blue:-- + "Since I needs must say my say, + Since on board the duty's done, + And from Malo Roads to Croisic Point, what is it but a run! + Since 'tis ask and have, I may-- + Since the others go ashore-- + Come! A good whole holiday! + Leave to go and see my wife, whom I call the Belle Aurore!" + That he asked and that he got,--nothing more. + + Name and deed alike are lost: + Not a pillar nor a post + In his Croisic keeps alive the feat as it befell; + Not a head in white and black + On a single fishing-smack, + In memory of the man but for whom had gone to wrack + All that France saved from the fight whence England bore the bell. + Go to Paris: rank on rank + Search the heroes flung pell-mell + On the Louvre, face and flank! + You shall look long enough ere you come to Herve Riel. + So, for better and for worse, Herve Riel, accept my verse! + In my verse, Herve Riel, do thou once more + Save the squadron, honor France, love thy wife the Belle Aurore! + + + +HELPS TO STUDY. + + +Notes and Questions. + +Find on your map: Saint Malo, le Croisic (St. Croisic), Plymouth Sound, +Paris. + +What forfeit did Herve Riel propose in case he failed to pilot the ships +safely in? + +What ships were seeking harbor? + +Who were the "porpoises" and who the "sharks"? + +What reward did he claim? + +What comparison is found in the first stanza? + +What do stanzas three and four tell? + +In what way is the hero's memory perpetuated? + +The rhythm gives spirit to the poem. Which lines or stanzas are most +spirited? + +What line gives the key-note to Herve Riel's character? + +Contrast Herve Riel with the local pilots. + +Saint Malo--noted for its high tides. + +Rance--name of a river. + +The Hogue--a cape on the French coast. + +Malouins--residents of Saint Malo. + +Tourville--the French admiral. + +Greve--name given the beach. + +Solidor--the old fortress. + +Belle Aurore--the dawn. + +Croisickese--inhabitants of Croisie. + + +Words and Phrases for Discussion. + + "Worse than fifty Hogues" + "Clears the entry like a hound" + "Just the same man as before" + "He is Admiral, in brief" + "Keeps the passage as its inch of way were the wide sea's profound" + "Search the heroes flung pell-mell on the Louvre, face and flank" + "pressed" + "disembogues" + "rampired" + "bore the bell" + + * * * * * + + +THE BUGLE SONG (From "The Princess") + +ALFRED, LORD TENNYSON + + + The splendor falls on castle walls + And snowy summits, old in story; + The long light shakes across the lakes, + And the wild cataract leaps in glory. + Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying; + Blow, bugle; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying. + + O, hark! O, hear! how thin and clear, + And thinner, clearer, farther going! + O, sweet and far from cliff and scar, + The horns of Elfland, faintly blowing! + Blow, let us hear the purple glens replying; + Blow, bugle; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying. + + O, love, they die in yon rich sky; + They faint on hill or field or river. + Our echoes roll from soul to soul, + And grow forever and forever. + Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying; + And answer, echoes, answer, dying, dying, dying. + + + +HELPS TO STUDY. + + +Notes and Questions. + +Why does the poet use "splendor" instead of "sun-set," and "summits" +instead of "mountains"? + +Line 2--What is meant by "old in story"? + +Line 3--Why does the poet use "shakes"? + +Line l3--To what does "they" relate? + +Line l5--Explain. + +Line l5--Why does the poet use "roll"? + +Line l6--They "die" and "faint" while "our echoes" "roll" and "grow." Note +that "grow" is the important word. + +Note the refrain and the changes in its use; in the first stanza--the +bugle; in the second--the echo; in the third--the spiritual echo. + +Point out lines that have rhyme within themselves. + + +Words and Phrases for Discussion. + + "wild echoes" + "cliff and scar" + "horns of Elfland" + "rich sky" + "purple glens" + + * * * * * + + +THE BROOK + +ALFRED, LORD TENNYSON + + + I come from haunts of coot and hern, + I make a sudden sally, + And sparkle out among the fern, + To bicker down a valley. + + By thirty hills I hurry down, + Or slip between the ridges, + By twenty thorps, a little town, + And half a hundred bridges, + + Till last by Philip's farm I flow + To join the brimming river, + For men may come and men may go, + But I go on forever. + + I chatter over stony ways, + In little sharps and trebles; + I bubble into eddying bays, + I babble on the pebbles. + + With many a curve my banks I fret + By many a field and fallow, + And many a fairy foreland set + With willow-weed and mallow. + + I chatter, chatter, as I flow + To join the brimming river, + For men may come and men may go, + But I go on forever. + + I wind about, and in and out, + With here a blossom sailing, + And here and there a lusty trout, + And here and there a grayling. + + And here and there a foamy flake + Upon me, as I travel + With many a silvery water-break + Above the golden gravel, + + And draw them all along, and flow + To join the brimming river, + For men may come and men may go, + But I go on forever. + + I steal by lawns and grassy plots, + I slide by hazel covers; + I move the sweet forget-me-nots + That grow for happy lovers. + + I slip, I slide, I gloom, I glance, + Among my skimming swallows; + I make the netted sunbeams dance + Against my sandy shallows, + + I murmur under moon and stars + In brambly wildernesses; + I linger by my shingly bars, + I loiter round my cresses; + + And out again I curve and flow + To join the brimming river, + For men may come and men may go, + But I go on forever. + + + +HELPS TO STUDY. + + +Notes and Questions. + +These stanzas are part of a longer poem called "The Brook." + +In this poem Tennyson personifies the brook. Why? + +In what lines do the words and the rhythm suggest the sound of the brook? + +Which lines do this most successfully? + +Point out words that seem to you especially appropriate in giving the +thought. + +Where in the poem do we find a meaning for the following lines: + "Oh! of all the songs sung + No songs are so sweet + As the songs with refrains + Which repeat and repeat." + +How does the repetition of "chatter" influence the melody of the first line +in the sixth stanza? + +How does it affect the thought? + +Find another place in the poem where an expression is repeated. + +Was this done for the sake of the rhythm, or the thought, or for both? + +Alliteration is the repetition of the same letter or sound at the beginning +of two or more words in close succession. + +Find lines in which alliteration is used e. g. "sudden sally," "field and +fallow," etc. What does this add to the poem? + +Indicate the rhythm of the first four lines by placing them in these +curves: + ________ ________ ________ ________ + / \/ \/ \/ \ + + +Words and Phrases for Discussion. + + "coot and hern" (heron) + "bicker" + "thorps" + "fairy foreland" + "willow weed and mallow" + "grayling" + "water-break" + "covers" + "brambly" + "shingly bars" + "eddying" + "fallow" + "babble" + "cresses" + "brimming" + "sharps and trebles" + "skimming swallows" + "netted sunbeams" + + * * * * * + + +SONG OF THE CHATTAHOOCHEE + +SIDNEY LANIER + + + Out of the hills of Habersham, + Down the valleys of Hall, + I hurry amain to reach the plain, + Run the rapid and leap the fall; + Split at the rock and together again, + Accept my bed, or narrow or wide, + And flee from folly on every side + With a lover's pain to attain the plain + Far from the hills of Habersham, + Far from the valleys of Hall. + + All down the hills of Habersham, + All through the valleys of Hall, + The rushes cried, "Abide, abide," + The wilful water-weeds held me thrall, + The laving laurel turned my tide, + The ferns and the fondling grass said, "Stay," + The dewberry dipped for to work delay, + And the little reeds sighed, "Abide, abide," + Here in the hills of Habersham, + Here in the valleys of Hall. + + High o'er the hills of Habersham, + Veiling the valleys of Hall, + The hickory told me manifold + Fair tales of shade; the poplar tall + Wrought me her shadowy self to hold; + The chestnut, the oak, the walnut, the pine, + Overleaning, with flickering meaning and sign, + Said: "Pass not so cold, these manifold + Deep shades of the hills of Habersham, + These glades in the valleys of Hall." + + And oft in the hills of Habersham, + And oft in the valleys of Hall, + The white quartz shone, and the smooth brook stone + Did bar me of passage with friendly brawl; + And many a luminous jewel lone + (Crystals clear or a-cloud with mist, + Ruby, garnet, or amethyst) + Made lures with the lights of streaming stone + In the clefts of the hills of Habersham, + In the beds of the valleys of Hall. + + But oh! not the hills of Habersham, + And oh! not the valleys of Hall + Avail; I am fain for to water the plain. + Downward the voices of Duty call; + Downward to toil and be mixed with the main. + The dry fields burn and the mills are to turn, + And a myriad flowers mortally yearn, + And the lordly main from beyond the plain + Calls o'er the hills of Habersham, + Calls through the valleys of Hall. + + + +HELPS TO STUDY. + +Biographical and Historical: The South has given us two most melodious +singers, Poe and Lanier. When only nineteen Sidney Lanier enlisted in the +Confederate army, and the close of the war found him broken in health, with +little else in the world than a brave wife and a brave heart. When his +health permitted he played the flute in an orchestra in Baltimore. The +rhythm, the rhyme and the melodious words of his poetry all show him the +passionate lover of music that he was. Among his prose writings, "The Boy's +Froissart" and "The Boy's King Arthur" are of especial interest to young +readers. + + +Notes and Questions. + +Find the Chattahoochee river on your map with its source in the "hills of +Habersham" and its course through the "valleys of Hall." + +Compare this poem with Tennyson's "The Brook." + +What is peculiar in the phrases: "run the rapid," "flee from folly," +"wilful waterweeds," "loving laurel," etc. + +Find alliteration in other lines. + +What is added to the poem by alliteration? + +Notice the rhythm in the third line of the first stanza. + +What is the peculiarity of the eighth line of the first stanza? + +Find lines in the other stanzas which contain rhymes. Notice the last word +in each of these lines. What two things have you found out? + +Lanier believed that poetry is a kind of music. Does the rhythm in this +poem sustain this definition? + +Point out lines that are especially musical and pleasing. + +Habersham, Hall--Counties in northern Georgia. + + +Words and Phrases for Discussion. + + "laving laurel" + "fondling grass" + "friendly brawl" + "made lures" + "lordly main" + "run the rapid" + "leap the fall" + "hurry amain" + "veiling the valleys" + "flickering meaning" + "the mills are to turn" + "I am fain for to water the plain" + + * * * * * + + +THE CATARACT OF LODORE + +ROBERT SOUTHEY. + + + "How does the water + Come down at Lodore?" + My little boy asked me + Thus, once on a time; + And, moreover, he tasked me + To tell him in rhyme. + Anon at the word, + There first came one daughter, + And then came another, + To second and third + The request of their brother, + And to hear how the water + Comes down at Lodore, + With its rush and its roar, + As many a time + They had seen it before. + So I told them in rhyme-- + For of rhymes I had store; + And 'twas my vocation + For their recreation + That so I should sing; + Because I was Laureate + To them and the king. + + From its sources, which well + In the tarn on the fell; + From its fountains + In the mountains, + Its rills and its gills; + Through moss and through brake, + It runs and it creeps + For a while, till it sleeps + In its own little lake. + And thence, at departing, + Awakening and starting, + It runs through the reeds, + And away it proceeds, + Through meadow and glade, + In sun and in shade, + And through the wood shelter, + Among crags in its flurry, + Helter-skelter, + Hurry-skurry. + Here it comes sparkling, + And there it lies darkling; + Now smoking and frothing + In tumult and wrath in, + Till, in this rapid race + On which it is bent, + It reaches the place + Of its steep descent. + + The cataract strong + Then plunges along, + Striking and raging, + As if a war waging + Its caverns and rocks among; + Rising and leaping, + Sinking and creeping, + Swelling and sweeping, + Showering and springing, + Flying and flinging, + Writhing and ringing, + Eddying and whisking, + Spouting and frisking, + Turning and twisting, + Around and around + With endless rebound; + Smiting and fighting, + A sight to delight in; + Confounding, astounding, + Dizzying, and deafening the ear with its sound, + + Collecting, projecting, + Receding and speeding, + And shocking and rocking, + And darting and parting, + And threading and spreading, + And whizzing and hissing, + And dripping and skipping, + And hitting and splitting, + And shining and twining, + And rattling and battling, + And shaking and quaking, + And pouring and roaring, + And waving and raving, + And tossing and crossing, + And flowing and going, + And running and stunning, + And foaming and roaming, + And dinning and spinning, + And dropping and hopping, + And working and jerking, + And guggling and struggling, + And heaving and cleaving, + And moaning and groaning, + And glittering and frittering, + And gathering and feathering, + And whitening and brightening, + And quivering and shivering, + And hurrying and skurrying, + And thundering and floundering; + + Dividing and gliding and sliding, + And falling and brawling and sprawling, + And driving and riving and striving, + And sprinkling and twinkling and wrinkling, + And sounding and bounding and rounding, + And bubbling and troubling and doubling, + And grumbling and rumbling and tumbling, + And chattering and battering and shattering; + Retreating and beating and meeting and sheeting, + Delaying and straying and playing and spraying, + Advancing and prancing and glancing and dancing, + Recoiling, turmoiling, and toiling and boiling, + And gleaming and streaming and steaming and beaming, + And rushing and flushing and brushing and gushing, + And flapping and rapping and clapping and slapping, + And curling and whirling and purling and twirling, + And thumping and plumping and bumping and jumping. + And dashing and flashing and splashing and clashing; + And so never ending, but always descending, + Sounds and motions forever and ever are blending, + All at once, and all o'er, with a mighty uproar: + And this way the water comes down at Lodore. + + + +HELPS TO STUDY. + +Biographical: Robert Southey, 1774-1843, was a great English poet. In 1813 +he was made poet laureate. + + +Notes and Questions. + +Who was "laureate"? What is it to be "laureate"? + +Who was the king to whom Southey was poet-laureate? + +To whom beside the king does he say he is laureate? + +What do you think he means by this? + +Find this cataract on your map (Derwent River in Cumberland). What is a +cataract? Have you ever seen one? + +Find changes in rhythm as the stream advances. + +Where in the poem does Southey first use lines in which two words rhyme? In +which three words rhyme? + +Why does the poet use all these rhymes? + +Compare the first and second stanzas as to rate. + +Point out lines that are especially pleasing to you. + + +Words and Phrases for Discussion. + + "cataract" + "tarn" + "brake" + "glade" + "helter-skelter" + "hurry-skurry" + "vocation" + "recreation" + "fell" + + * * * * * + + +THE BELLS + +EDGAR ALLAN POE + + + Hear the sledges with the bells-- + Silver bells! + What a world of merriment their melody foretells! + How they tinkle, tinkle, tinkle, + In the icy air of night! + While the stars that oversprinkle + All the heavens, seem to twinkle + With a crystalline delight; + Keeping time, time, time, + In a sort of Runic rhyme, + To the tintinnabulation that so musically wells + From the bells, bells, bells, bells, + Bells, bells, bells-- + From the jingling and the tinkling of the bells. + + Hear the mellow wedding-bells, + Golden bells! + What a world of happiness their harmony foretells! + Through the balmy air of night + How they ring out their delight! + From the molten-golden notes, + And all in tune, + What a liquid ditty floats + To the turtle-dove that listens, while she gloats + On the moon! + Oh, from out the sounding cells + What a gush of euphony voluminously wells! + How it swells! + How it dwells + On the Future! how it tells + Of the rapture that impels + To the swinging and the ringing + Of the bells, bells, bells-- + Of the bells, bells, bells, bells, + Bells, bells, bells-- + To the rhyming and the chiming of the bells! + + Hear the loud alarum bells-- + Brazen bells! + What a tale of terror, now, their turbulency tells! + In the startled ear of night + How they scream out their affright! + Too much horrified to speak, + They can only shriek, shriek, + Out of tune, + In a clamorous appealing to the mercy of the fire, + In a mad expostulation with the deaf and frantic fire + Leaping higher, higher, higher, + With a desperate desire, + And a resolute endeavor, + Now--now to sit or never, + By the side of the pale-faced moon. + Oh, the bells, bells, bells! + What a tale their terror tells + Of despair! + How they clang, and clash, and roar! + What a horror they outpour + On the bosom of the palpitating air! + Yet the ear it fully knows, + By the twanging + And the clanging, + How the danger ebbs and flows; + Yet the ear distinctly tells, + In the jangling, + And the wrangling, + How the danger sinks and swells, + By the sinking or the swelling in the anger of the bells-- + Of the bells-- + Of the bells, bells, bells, bells, + Bells, bells, bells-- + In the clamor and the clangor of the bells! + + Hear the tolling of the bells-- + Iron bells! + What a world of solemn thought their monody compels! + In the silence of the night, + How we shiver with affright + At the melancholy menace of their tone! + For every sound that floats + From the rust within their throats + Is a groan. + And the people--ah, the people-- + They that dwell up in the steeple, + All alone, + And who tolling, tolling, tolling, + In that muffled monotone, + Feel a glory in so rolling + On the human heart a stone-- + They are neither man nor woman-- + They are neither brute nor human-- + They are Ghouls; + And their king it is who tolls; + And he rolls, rolls, rolls, + Rolls, + A paean from the bells! + And his merry bosom swells + With the paean of the bells! + And he dances, and he yells; + Keeping time, time, time, + In a sort of Runic rhyme, + To the paean of the bells-- + Of the bells: + Keeping time, time, time, + In a sort of Runic rhyme, + To the throbbing of the bells-- + Of the bells, bells, bells-- + To the sobbing of the bells; + Keeping time, time, time, + As he knells, knells, knells, + In a happy Runic rhyme, + To the rolling of the bells-- + Of the bells, bells, bells-- + To the tolling of the bells, + Of the bells, bells, bells, bells-- + Bells, bells, bells-- + To the moaning and the groaning of the bells. + + +HELPS TO STUDY. + +Biographical and Historical: Edgar Allan Poe was born in Boston on January +19th, 1809. Both his parents were members of a theatrical troupe then +playing in Boston. He was left an orphan at the age of three years, and was +adopted by a wealthy Virginia planter and by him educated in England and +elsewhere. Owing to his erratic habits, Poe's foster-father disowned him, +and after that life for him was a constant battle with poverty. His prose +tales abound in adventure, allegory, and the supernatural. His poetry is +full of imagery, beauty, and melody. + + +Notes and Questions. + +What kinds of bells does the poet seek to reproduce the sound of? + +Which bells has he described best? + +Point out words particularly suited to express the sound they describe. + +Which lines are especially musical and pleasing? + +What can you say of the fire-bells of today? + + +Words and Phrases for Discussion. + + "euphony" + "tintinnabulation" + "expostulation" + "Runic" + "crystalline" + "palpitating" + + * * * * * + + +ANNABEL LEE + +EDGAR ALLAN POE + + + It was many and many a year ago, + In a kingdom by the sea, + That a maiden there lived whom you may know + By the name of Annabel Lee; + And this maiden she lived with no other thought + Than to love and be loved by me. + + I was a child and she was a child, + In this kingdom by the sea: + But we loved with a love that was more than love-- + I and my Annabel Lee; + With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven + Coveted her and me. + + And this was the reason that, long ago, + In this kingdom by the sea, + A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling + My beautiful Annabel Lee; + So that her highborn kinsmen came + And bore her away from me, + To shut her up in a sepulchre + In this kingdom by the sea. + + The angels, not half so happy in heaven, + Went envying her and me-- + Yes!--that was the reason (as all men know, + In this kingdom by the sea) + That the wind came out of the cloud by night, + Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee. + + But our love it was stronger by far than the love + Of those who were older than we-- + Of many far wiser than we-- + And neither the angels in heaven above, + Nor the demons down under the sea, + Can ever dissever my soul from the soul + Of the beautiful Annabel Lee: + + For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams + Of the beautiful Annabel Lee; + And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes + Of the beautiful Annabel Lee; + And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side + Of my darling,--my darling,--my life and my bride, + In the sepulchre there by the sea, + In her tomb by the sounding sea. + + + +HELPS TO STUDY. + + +Notes and Questions. + +Like "The Bells," this poem is musical and the words are chosen with +reference to this quality. + +Notice that the repetition of the word "many" adds to the music of the +first line. + +Find other lines in which a word is repeated for the sake of melody. + +Find lines in which rhymes occur. + +Mention lines that are especially pleasing to you. + +What reason is given for the death of Annabel Lee? + +Why did the angels "covet" and "envy" the lovers? + +How strong was this love? + +Why does not the lover feel separated from Annabel Lee? + +Do you like this poem? Why? + + +Words and Phrases for Discussion. + + "winged seraphs" + "sounding sea" + "sepulchre" + "highborn kinsmen" + "coveted" + "envying" + + * * * * * + + +OPPORTUNITY + +EDWARD ROWLAND SILL + + + This I beheld, or dreamed it in a dream:-- + There spread a cloud of dust along a plain; + And underneath the cloud, or in it, raged + A furious battle, and men yelled, and swords + Shocked upon swords and shields. A prince's banner + Wavered, then staggered backward, hemmed by foes. + A craven hung along the battle's edge, + And thought, "Had I a sword of keener steel-- + That blue blade that the king's son bears,--but this + Blunt thing--!" he snapt and flung it from his hand, + And lowering crept away and left the field. + Then came the king's son, wounded, sore bestead, + And weaponless, and saw the broken sword, + Hilt-buried in the dry and trodden sand, + And ran and snatched it, and with battle-shout + Lifted afresh he hewed his enemy down, + And saved a great cause that heroic day. + + + +HELPS TO STUDY. + +Biographical: Edward Rowland Sill was born in Connecticut in 1841. He +graduated at Yale and lived most of his life in California, being for some +years professor of English language and literature at the State University. +Sill was a true poet, but the whole of his literary output is contained in +two slender volumes. His poems are noted for their compressed thought. The +selection here given shows this quality. + + +Notes and Questions. + +What do you learn from this poem? + +Where was the craven when he decided his sword was useless? + +What word shows that he was there of his own choice? + +What kind of sword had the craven? + +What words tell you that he was greatly needed in the thick of the +conflict? + +What kind of sword had the king's son? + +How long did the king's son look at the discarded sword before using it? + +If the battle represents life, and the craven and the king's son are types +of the people in the world, what do you think the swords represent? + +Why is this poem called "Opportunity"? + +Can you think of another title which might be given to it? + +Such a story as this is called an allegory. + +"furious"--What is a furious battle? + + +Words and Phrases for Discussion. + + "craven" + "bestead" + "hung along the battle's edge" + "shocked" + "hemmed by foes" + + * * * * * + + +TO A WATERFOWL + +WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT + + Whither, midst falling dew, + While glow the heavens with the last steps of day, + Far through their rosy depths dost thou pursue + Thy solitary way? + + Vainly the fowler's eye + Might mark thy distant flight to do thee wrong, + As, darkly painted on the crimson sky, + Thy figure floats along. + + Seek'st thou the plashy brink + Of weedy lake, or marge of river wide, + Or where the rocking billows rise and sink + On the chafed ocean-side? + + There is a Power whose care + Teaches thy way along that pathless coast,-- + The desert and illimitable air,-- + Lone wandering, but not lost. + + All day thy wings have fanned, + At that far height, the cold, thin atmosphere, + Yet stoop not, weary, to the welcome land, + Though the dark night is near. + + And soon that toil shall end; + Soon shalt thou find a summer home, and rest, + And scream among thy fellows; reeds shall bend + Soon o'er thy sheltered nest. + + Thou'rt gone; the abyss of heaven + Hath swallowed up thy form; yet on my heart + Deeply hath sunk the lesson thou hast given, + And shall not soon depart. + + He who, from zone to zone, + Guides through the boundless sky thy certain flight, + In the long way that I must tread alone + Will lead my steps aright. + + + +HELPS TO STUDY. + +Biographical and Historical: William Cullen Bryant was born in 1794 in +Western Massachusetts. His education was carried on in the district school. +At home he had the use of an exceptionally fine library, for that period, +and he made the most of its opportunities. In 1816 he secured a license to +practice law, and journeyed on foot to Plainfield, Mass., to look for a +place to open an office. He felt forlorn and desolate, and the world seemed +big and cold. In this mood, while pausing on his way to contemplate the +beauty of the sunset, he saw a solitary bird wing its way along the +horizon. He watched it until it was lost in the distance. Then he pursued +his journey with new courage and on arriving at the place where he was to +stop for the night, he sat down and wrote this beautiful poem of faith and +hope. + + +Notes and Questions. + +What lines tell you the time of day? + +Which stanza do you like best? Why? + +What lines give you the most beautiful picture? + +What does the poet learn from the waterfowl? + +Note that the rhythm gives the impression of the bird's flight. + + +Words and Phrases for Discussion. + + "thy solitary way" + "rosy depths" + "thin atmosphere" + "the fowler's eye" + "long way" + "welcome land" + "that toil shall end" + "tread alone" + "boundless sky" + "last steps of day" + "certain flight" + "lone wandering but not lost" + "chafed ocean-side" + "pathless coast" + "the abyss of heaven hath swallowed up thy form" + + * * * * * + + +THE SKYLARK + +JAMES HOGG. + + Bird of the wilderness, + Blithesome and cumberless, + Sweet be thy matin o'er moorland and lea! + Emblem of happiness, + Blest is thy dwelling place,-- + O to abide in the desert with thee! + Wild is thy lay and loud, + Far in the downy cloud, + Love gives it energy, love gave it birth. + Where on thy dewy wing, + Where art thou journeying? + Thy lay is in heaven, thy love is on earth, + + O'er fell and fountain sheen, + O'er moor and mountain green, + O'er the red streamer that heralds the day, + Over the cloudlet dim, + Over the rainbow's rim, + Musical cherub, soar, singing, away! + Then, when the gloaming comes, + Low in the heather blooms, + Sweet will thy welcome and bed of love be! + + + +HELPS TO STUDY. + +James Hogg was born in Ettrick, Scotland, in 1770, and was known as "the +Ettrick Shepherd," because he followed the occupation of a shepherd until +he was thirty. The beautiful selection here given was doubtless inspired by +the poet's early communion with Nature. + + +Notes and Questions. + +From this poem what can you tell of the home of the skylark? Of its nature? + +Why is the lark called an emblem of happiness? Name something that might be +called an emblem of strength; of sorrow. + +What pictures do the following words make to you: "wilderness," "moor," +"lea," "fell," "heather-bloom"? + +What is the "red streamer that heralds the day"? + +What does the word "dewy" suggest as to the habits of the bird? + +What do "matin" and "gloaming" signify? + +In the poem what tells you the nest is near the ground? + +Why is "downy" used to describe "cloud"? + +What makes lines 13 and 14 so musical? + +Indicate the rhythm of the first six lines by writing them in groups as +shown in the following curves: + + ___________ _____________ + / \/ \ + Bird of the wil-der-ness + + * * * * * + + +TO A SKYLARK + +PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY + + + Hail to thee, blithe Spirit! + Bird thou never wert, + That from Heaven, or near it, + Pourest thy full heart + In profuse strains of unpremeditated art. + + Higher still and higher + From the earth thou springest + Like a cloud of fire; + The blue deep thou wingest + And singing still dost soar, and soaring ever singest. + + In the golden lightning + Of the sunken sun, + O'er which clouds are bright'ning, + Thou dost float and run; + Like an unbodied joy whose race is just begun. + + The pale purple even + Melts around thy flight; + Like a star of heaven, + In the broad daylight + Thou art unseen,--but yet I hear thy shrill delight, + + Keen as are the arrows + Of that silver sphere, + Whose intense lamp narrows + In the white dawn clear + Until we hardly see--we feel that it is there. + + All the earth and air + With thy voice is loud, + As, when Night is bare, + From one lonely cloud + The moon rains out her beams, and Heaven is overflowed. + + What thou art we know not; + What is most like thee? + From rainbow clouds there flow not + Drops so bright to see + As from thy presence showers a rain of melody. + + Like a Poet hidden + In the light of thought, + Singing hymns unbidden + Till the world is wrought + To sympathy with hopes and fears it heeded not: + + Like a high-born maiden + In a palace tower, + Soothing her love-laden + Soul in secret hour + With music sweet as love,--which overflows her bower: + + Like a glow-worm golden + In a dell of dew, + Scattering unbeholden + Its aerial hue + Among the flowers and grass which screen it from the view: + + Like a rose embowered + In its own green leaves, + By warm winds deflowered, + Till the scent it give + Makes faint with too much sweet those heavy-winged thieves: + + Sound of vernal showers + On the twinkling grass, + Bain-awakened flowers, + All that ever was + Joyous and clear and fresh, thy music doth surpass, + + Teach us, Sprite or Bird, + What sweet thoughts are thine; + I have never heard + Praise of love or wine + That panted forth a flood of rapture so divine. + + Chorus Hymeneal, + Or triumphal chaunt, + Matched with thine, would be all + But an empty vaunt, + A thing wherein we feel there is some hidden want. + + What objects are the fountains + Of thy happy strain? + What fields or waves or mountains? + What shapes of sky or plain? + What love of thine own kind? what ignorance of pain? + + With thy clear keen joyance + Languor cannot be; + Shadow of annoyance + Never came near thee; + Thou lovest--but ne'er knew love's sad satiety. + + Waking or asleep + Thou of death must deem + Things more true and deep + Than we mortals dream-- + Or how could thy notes flow in such a crystal stream? + + We look before and after, + And pine for what is not; + Our sincerest laughter + With some pain is fraught; + Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought. + + Yet if we could scorn + Hate and pride and fear; + If we were things born + Not to shed a tear, + I know not how thy joy we ever should come near. + + Better than all measures + Of delightful sound, + Better than all treasures + That in books are found, + Thy skill to poet were, thou scorner of the ground! + + Teach me half the gladness + That thy brain must know, + Such harmonious madness + From my lips would flow, + The world should listen then--as I am listening now. + + + +HELPS TO STUDY. + +Biographical and Historical: Percy Bysshe Shelley was born in 1792. He was +an English poet who traveled much in Europe, and found Italy especially to +his liking. His life was short and full of storm and stress, although he +never allowed his personal sufferings to embitter his spirit. While only +thirty, on a pleasure cruise off the coast of Italy, he was drowned. + +"To a Skylark" and "The Cloud" are rare poems because of their wonderful +harmony of sound. + +The skylark is found in northern Europe. It is noted for its lofty flights +and wonderful song. Note that Shelley, Wordsworth, and James Hogg have all +written poems about the skylark. + + +Notes and Questions. + +What country is the home of these poets? What does this fact suggest to +you? + +Explain the simile in the fifth stanza. In the sixth. + +In the seventh stanza what two words are contrasted? + +Note the four comparisons--stanzas eight, nine, ten and eleven. Which do +you like best? Why? + +In line 86 emphasize the first word and explain the stanza. + +In line 95 emphasize the fifth word and explain the stanza. + +In line 96 to end, what does Shelley say would be the result if a poet +could feel such joy as the little bird seems to feel? + +If we had no dark days do you think we could appreciate the bright days? + +If we had no sadness could we appreciate the songs of gladness? + +If Shelley had never experienced sadness could he have written this +beautiful poem of gladness? + + +Explain the following: + + "There is no music in the life + That sounds with empty laughter wholly; + There's not a string attuned to mirth + But has its chord in melancholy." + + +What does the skylark mean to Shelley? + +If we think only of being happy shall we be very helpful to others? + +Make a list of all the names he gives the skylark. + +Enumerate the expressions Shelley uses in characterizing the song. + +Which stanza do you like best? Why? + +"wert" rhymes with heart. (In England the sound is broad, er=aer). + +"even"--a contraction of evening. + + +Words and Phrases for Discussion. + + "profuse strains" + "panted forth" + "heavy-winged thieves" + "unpremeditated art" + "rain of melody" + "harmonious madness" + "shrill delight" + "flood of rapture" + "float and run" + "rains out" + "triumphant chaunt" + "scattering unbeholden" + + * * * * * + + +THE CLOUD + +PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY + + + I bring fresh showers for the thirsting flowers, + From the seas and the streams; + I bear light shade for the leaves when laid + In their noon-day dreams; + From my wings are shaken the dews that waken + The sweet buds every one, + When rocked to rest on their mother's breast, + As she dances about the sun. + I wield the flail of the lashing hail, + And whiten the green plains under; + And then again I dissolve it in rain, + And laugh as I pass in thunder. + + I sift the snow on the mountains below, + And their great pines groan aghast; + And all the night 'tis my pillow white, + While I sleep in the arms of the blast, + Sublime on the towers of my skyey bowers, + Lightning, my pilot, sits; + In a cavern under is fettered the thunder,-- + It struggles and howls by fits; + Over earth and ocean, with gentle motion, + This pilot is guiding me, + Lured by the love of the genii that move + In the depths of the purple sea; + Over the rills, and the crags, and the hills, + Over the lakes and the plains, + Wherever he dream, under mountain or stream, + The spirit he loves remains; + And I, all the while, bask in heaven's blue smile, + Whilst he is dissolving in rains. + + The sanguine sunrise, with his meteor eyes, + And his burning plumes outspread, + Leaps on the back of my sailing rack, + When the morning-star shines dead, + As on the jag of a mountain-crag, + Which an earthquake rocks and swings, + An eagle, alit, one moment may sit, + In the light of its golden wings. + And when sunset may breathe, from the lit sea beneath, + Its ardors of rest and love, + And the crimson pall of eve may fall + From the depth of heaven above, + With wings folded I rest, on mine airy nest, + As still as a brooding dove. + + That orbed Maiden, with white fire laden, + Whom mortals call the Moon, + Glides glimmering o'er my fleece-like floor, + By the midnight breezes strewn; + And wherever the beat of her unseen feet, + Which only the angels hear, + May have broken the woof of my tent's thin roof, + The stars peep behind her, and peer! + And I laugh to see them whirl and flee, + Like a swarm of golden bees, + When I widen the rent in my wind-built tent, + Till the calm rivers, lakes, and seas, + Like strips of the sky fallen through me on high, + Are each paved with the moon and these. + + I bind the sun's throne with a burning zone, + And the moon's with a girdle of pearl; + The volcanoes are dim, and the stars reel and swim, + When the whirlwinds my banner unfurl. + From cape to cape, with a bridge-like shape, + Over a torrent of sea, + Sun-beam proof, I hang like a roof, + The mountains its columns be. + The triumphal arch through which I march + With hurricane, fire, and snow, + When the powers of the air are chained to my chair, + Is the million-colored bow; + The sphere-fire above its soft colors wove, + While the moist earth was laughing below. + + I am the daughter of earth and water, + And the nursling of the sky; + I pass through the pores of the ocean and shores; + I change, but I can not die. + For after the rain, when, with never a stain, + The pavilion of heaven is bare, + And the winds and sunbeams, with their convex gleams, + Build up the blue dome of air, + I silently laugh at my own cenotaph, + And out of the caverns of rain, + Like a sprite from the gloom, like a ghost from the tomb, + I rise and unbuild it again. + + +HELPS TO STUDY. + +Notes and Questions. + +In this poem Shelley personifies the Cloud. Why? + +What does the second stanza mean to you? + +The third stanza relates to the sun; what comparisons are made? + +What comparisons are found in the fourth stanza? + +Read the last stanza and tell what lesson the poem teaches. What line tells +you? + +What pictures do you get from the fifth stanza? + +Which stanza is most musical and pleasing? + + +Words and Phrases for Discussion. + + "sanguine sunrise" + "pavilion of heaven" + "reel and swim" + "meteor eyes" + "caverns of rain" + "million-colored bow" + "burning plumes" + "fleece-like floor" + "sphere-fire" + "orbed maiden" + "wind-built tent" + "cenotaph" + + * * * * * + + +APOSTROPHE TO THE OCEAN (From "Childe Harold," Canto IV.) + +LORD BYRON + + + There is a pleasure in the pathless woods, + There is a rapture on the lonely shore, + There is society, where none intrudes, + By the deep sea, and music in its roar; + I love not man the less, but nature more, + From these our interviews, in which I steal + From all I may be, or have been before, + To mingle with the universe, and feel + What I can ne'er express, yet cannot all conceal. + + Roll on, thou deep and dark blue Ocean--roll! + Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain; + Man marks the earth with ruin--his control + Stops with the shore; upon the watery plain + The wrecks are all thy deed, nor doth remain + A shadow of man's ravage, save his own, + When, for a moment, like a drop of rain, + He sinks into thy depths, with bubbling groan-- + Without a grave, unknelled, uncoffined, and unknown. + + His steps are not upon thy paths--thy fields + Are not a spoil for him--thou dost arise + And shake him from thee; the vile strength he wields + For earth's destruction thou dost all despise, + Spurning him from thy bosom to the skies, + And send'st him, shivering in thy playful spray, + And howling to his gods, where haply lies + His petty hope in some near port or bay, + And dashest him again to earth: there let him lay. + + The armaments which thunder-strike the walls + Of rock-built cities, bidding nations quake, + And monarchs tremble in their capitals, + The oak leviathans, whose huge ribs make + Their clay creator the vain title take + Of lord of thee, and arbiter of war: + These are thy toys, and, as the snowy flake, + They melt into thy yeast of waves, which mar + Alike the Armada's pride, or spoils of Trafalgar. + + Thy shores are empires changed in all save thee-- + Assyria, Greece, Rome, Carthage, what are they? + Thy waters washed them power while they were free, + And many a tyrant since; their shores obey + The stranger, slave, or savage; their decay + Has dried up realms to deserts; not so thou; + Unchangeable save to thy wild waves' play. + Time writes no wrinkle on thine azure brow: + Such as creation's dawn beheld, thou rollest now. + + Thou glorious mirror, where the Almighty's form + Glasses itself in tempests; in all time, + Calm or convulsed--in breeze or gale or storm, + Icing the pole, or in the torrid clime + Dark-heaving; boundless, endless, and sublime-- + The image of Eternity--the throne + Of the Invisible; even from out thy slime + The monsters of the deep are made; each zone + Obeys thee; thou goest forth, dread, fathomless, alone. + + And I have loved thee, Ocean! and my joy + Of youthful sports was on thy breast to be + Borne, like thy bubbles, onward: from a boy + I wantoned with thy breakers--they to me + Were a delight; and if the freshening sea + Made them a terror--'twas a pleasing fear; + For I was as it were a child of thee, + And trusted to thy billows far and near, + And laid my hand upon thy mane--as I do here. + + + +HELPS TO STUDY. + +Biographical and Historical: George Gordon Byron was born in London the +year before the outbreak of the French Revolution. At the age of ten, upon +the death of his grand-uncle he became Lord Byron. He traveled extensively +through Europe, spending much time in Italy. At Pisa he formed a warm +friendship for the poet Shelley. So deeply was he moved by his impulses +toward liberty and freedom that in the summer of 1823 he left Genoa with a +supply of arms, medicines, and money to aid the Greeks in their struggle +for independence. In the following year he became commander-in-chief at +Missolonghi, but he died of a fever before he had an opportunity to +actually engage in battle. Hearing the news, the boy Tennyson, dreaming at +Somersby on poetic greatness, crept away to weep and carve upon sandstone +the words, "Byron is dead." + + +Notes and Questions. + +In the first stanza why "pathless woods" and "lonely shore"? + +In the second and third stanzas Byron contrasts the ocean and the earth in +their relation to man. + +Line 12--What two words require emphasis? + +Line 13--With what is "watery plain" contrasted? + +Line 14--With what is "thy" contrasted? + +Line 22--What word requires emphasis? + +In the fourth stanza what contrast does Byron make? + +What does the fifth stanza tell? The sixth? + +Which stanza do you like best? Why? + +Which lines are the most beautiful? + + +"The Invincible Armada"--an immense Spanish fleet consisting of one hundred +thirty vessels, sailed from Corunna in 1588 and attacked the English fleet +but suffered defeat. This event furnished Southey the inspiration for a +poem, "The Spanish Armada." + +"Trafalgar"--one of Lord Nelson's great sea-fights, occurring off Cape +Trafalgar on the coast of Spain in 1805. Here he defeated the combined +fleets of France and Spain, but was himself killed. + + +Words and Phrases for Discussion. + + "unknelled" + "uncoffined" + "unknown" + "playful spray" + "oak leviathans" + "yeast of waves" + "These are thy toys" + "The Armada's pride" + "spoils of Trafalgar" + "rock-built" + "glasses itself" + "fathomless" + + * * * * * + + +THE DESTRUCTION OF SENNACHERIB LORD BYRON + + + The Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold, + And his cohorts were gleaming in purple and gold; + And the sheen of their spears was like stars on the sea, + When the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee. + + Like the leaves of the forest when summer is green, + That host with their banners at sunset were seen; + Like the leaves of the forest when autumn hath flown, + That host on the morrow lay withered and strown. + + For the Angel of Death spread his wings on the blast, + And breathed in the face of the foe as he passed; + And the eyes of the sleepers waxed deadly and chill, + And their hearts but once heaved, and forever grew still! + + And there lay the steed with his nostril all wide, + But through it there rolled not the breath of his pride; + And the foam of his gasping lay white on the turf, + And cold as the spray of the rock-beating surf. + And there lay the rider distorted and pale, + With the dew on his brow and the rust on his mail; + And the tents were all silent, the banners alone, + The lances unlifted, the trumpet unblown. + + And the widows of Ashur are loud in their wail, + And their idols are broke in the temple of Baal; + And the might of the Gentile, unsmote by the sword, + Hath melted like snow in the glance of the Lord! + + + +HELPS TO STUDY. + +Historical: Sennacherib was King of Assyria. His army invaded Judea and +besieged Jerusalem but was overthrown; 185,000 of his men were destroyed in +a single night. Sennacherib returned in haste with the remnant to his own +country. For the Bible story of this event read 2 Kings XIX. 6-36. + + +Notes and Questions. + +Find Assyria and Galilee on your map. + + +Note the development: +1. Brilliant outset of the Assyrian cavalry. +2. Their summer changes to winter. +3. The angel turns their sleep into death. +4. The steed and the rider. +5. The mourning. +6. Their idols powerless to help them. +7. Their religion broken down. +8. Their power "melted like snow." + + +What two comparisons are found in the first stanza? + +Note the movement and rhythm. + +Point out the fitness of the two similes in the second stanza. + +Find a comparison in the sixth stanza. + +"Ashur"--Assyria. + +"Baal"--the sun-god worshipped by the Assyrians. + +Indicate the rhythm of the four lines of the second stanza by writing them +in groups under curves as on page 47: + + +Words and Phrases for Discussion. + + "cohorts" + "sheen" + "host" + "unsmote" + "idols are broke" (broken) + "purple and gold" + "withered and strown" + "rock-beating surf" + + * * * * * + + +THE EVE BEFORE WATERLOO (From "Childe Harold," Canto III.) + +LORD BYRON + + There was a sound of revelry by night, + And Belgium's capital had gathered then + Her beauty and her chivalry, and bright + The lamps shone o'er fair women and brave men. + A thousand hearts beat happily; and when + Music arose with its voluptuous swell, + Soft eyes looked love to eyes which spake again, + And all went merry as a marriage bell. + But, hush! hark! a deep sound strikes like a rising knell! + + Did ye not hear, it?--No; 'twas but the wind, + Or the car rattling o'er the stony street. + On with the dance! let joy be unconfined; + No sleep till morn, when Youth and Pleasure meet + To chase the glowing hours with flying feet! + But, hark! that heavy sound breaks in once more, + As if the clouds its echo would repeat; + And nearer, clearer, deadlier than before! + Arm! arm! it is--it is the cannon's opening roar! + + Within a windowed niche of that high hall + Sate Brunswick's fated chieftain; he did hear + That sound the first amidst the festival, + And caught its tone with Death's prophetic ear; + And when they smiled because he deemed it near, + His heart more truly knew that peal too well + Which stretched his father on a bloody bier, + And roused the vengeance blood alone could quell; + He rushed into the field, and, foremost fighting, fell. + + Ah! then and there was hurrying to and fro, + And gathering tears, and tremblings of distress, + And cheeks all pale, which but an hour ago + Blushed at the praise of their own loveliness; + And there were sudden partings, such as press + The life from out young hearts, and choking sighs + Which ne'er might be repeated: who could guess + If ever more should meet those mutual eyes, + Since upon night so sweet such awful morn could rise! + + And there was mounting in hot haste: the steed, + The mustering squadron, and the clattering car, + Went pouring forward with impetuous speed, + And swiftly forming in the ranks of war; + And the deep thunder peal on peal afar; + And near, the beat of the alarming drum + Roused up the soldier ere the morning star; + While thronged the citizens with terror dumb, + Or whispering with white lips, "The foe! They come! they come!" + + And wild and high the "Cameron's Gathering" rose! + The war note of Lochiel, which Albyn's hills + Have heard--and heard, too, have her Saxon foes: + How in the noon of night that pibroch thrills, + Savage and shrill! But with the breath which fills + Their mountain pipe, so fill the mountaineers + With the fierce native daring which instills + The stirring memory of a thousand years, + And Evan's, Donald's fame rings in each clansman's ears! + + And Ardennes waves above them her green leaves, + Dewy with Nature's tear-drops, as they pass, + Grieving, if aught inanimate e'er grieves, + Over the unreturning brave--alas! + Ere evening to be trodden like the grass + Which now beneath them, but above shall grow + In its next verdure, when this fiery mass + Of living valor, rolling on the foe, + And burning with high hope, shall molder cold and low. + + Last noon beheld them full of lusty life, + Last eve in Beauty's circle proudly gay; + The midnight brought the signal sound of strife-- + The morn, the marshaling in arms--the day, + Battle's magnificently stern array! + The thunderclouds close o'er it, which when rent + The earth is covered thick with other clay, + Which her own clay shall cover, heaped and pent, + Rider and horse--friend, foe--in one red burial blent! + + + +HELPS TO STUDY. + +Historical: On the evening of June 15, 1815, the Duchess of Richmond gave a +ball at Brussels. Wellington's officers, at his request, were present, his +purpose being to conceal the near approach of battle. Napoleon, the leader +of the French army, was the military genius of the age; Wellington, the +leader of the English forces, had, Tennyson tells us, "gained a hundred +fights nor ever lost an English gun." These two great generals now met for +the first time. The event was of supreme interest to all the world. The +engagement that followed next day was fought at Quatre Bras; the great +battle of Waterloo took place June 18th, Sunday. Read Thackeray's "Vanity +Fair" for description of this night in Brussels. This is a great martial +poem--the greatest inspired by this event. + +Note the movement of the poem. The revelry, the beauty and the chivalry, +the music and the merry-making, the alarm, the hurrying to and fro, the +gathering tears, the mounting in hot haste, the whispering with white lips, +the Scotch music, the green leaves of Ardennes, the closing scene. + + +Notes and Questions. + +Find Belgium's capital on your map; also Waterloo, twelve miles away. + +What does the first stanza tell? The second stanza? + +Note the differences between the fourth and fifth stanzas. + +The sixth stanza describes the Scottish martial music--What purpose does +this stanza serve in the poem? + +Which lines do you like best? Why? + +Which is the most beautiful stanza? + +What words seem to be especially appropriate? + +Note the rhythm and the change in movement. "Cameron's Gathering"--The +Cameron Highlander's call to arms. "Lochiel"--Donald Cameron of Lochiel was +a famous highland chieftain. Read the poem "Lochiel's Warning." + +"Albyn"--name given poetically to northern Scotland, the Highland region. + +"Pibroch"--martial music upon the bagpipe. + +"Evan's, Donald's fame"--Evan Cameron (another Lochiel) and his grandson, +Donald, were famous Highland chiefs. + +"Ardennes"--Arden, a forest on the Meuse river between Brussels and +Waterloo, called Arden by Shakespeare in "As You Like It." + +"car"--a cart. + + +Words and Phrases for Discussion. + + "voluptuous swell" + "rising knell" + "glowing hours" + "opening roar" + "terror dumb" + "noon of night" + "stirring memory" + "revelry" + "chivalry" + "mustering squadron" + "clattering car" + "pouring forward" + "impetuous speed" + "unreturning brave" + "rolling on the foe" + "magnificently stern" + "clansman" + "inanimate" + "verdure" + "blent" + + * * * * * + + +SONG OF THE GREEK BARD (From "Don Juan," Canto-III.) + +LORD BYRON + + The isles of Greece, the isles of Greece! + Where burning Sappho loved and sung, + Where grew the arts of war and peace, + Where Delos rose and Phoebus sprung! + Eternal summer gilds them yet, + But all, except their sun, is set. + + The Scian and the Teian muse, + The hero's harp, the lover's lute, + Have found the fame your shores refuse; + Their place of birth alone is mute + To sounds which echo further west + Than your sires' "Islands of the Blest." + + The mountains look on Marathon-- + And Marathon looks on the sea; + And musing there an hour alone, + I dreamed that Greece might still be free: + For, standing on the Persian's grave, + I could not deem myself a slave. + + A king sat on the rocky brow + Which looks o'er sea-born Salamis; + And ships by thousands lay below, + And men in nations;--all were his! + He counted them at break of day-- + And when the sun set, where were they? + + And where are they? and where art thou + My country? On thy voiceless shore + The heroic lay is tuneless now-- + The heroic bosom beats no more. + And must thy lyre, so long divine, + Degenerate into hands like mine? + + 'Tis something in the dearth of fame, + Though linked among a fettered race, + To feel at least a patriot's shame, + Even as I sing, suffuse my face; + For what is left the poet here? + For Greeks a blush--for Greece a tear. + + Must we but weep o'er days more blest? + Must we but blush?--Our fathers bled. + Earth, render back from out thy breast + A remnant of our Spartan dead! + Of the three hundred grant but three, + To make a new Thermopylae! + + What, silent still? and silent all? + Ah, no; the voices of the dead + Sound like a distant torrent's fall, + And answer, "Let one living head, + But one, arise--we come, we come!" + 'Tis but the living who are dumb. + + In vain--in vain: strike other chords; + Fill high the cup with Samian wine! + Leave battles to the Turkish hordes, + And shed the blood of Scio's vine! + Hark! rising to the ignoble call-- + How answers each bold bacchanal! + + You have the Pyrrhic dance as yet-- + Where is the Pyrrhic phalanx gone? + Of two such lessons, why forget + The nobler and the manlier one? + You have the letters Cadmus gave-- + Think you he meant them for a slave? + + The tyrant of the Chersonese + Was freedom's best and bravest friend; + That tyrant was Miltiades! + O that the present hour would lend + Another despot of the kind! + Such chains as his were sure to bind. + + Trust not for freedom to the Franks-- + They have a king who buys and sells-- + In native swords and native ranks + The only hope of courage dwells; + But Turkish force and Latin fraud + Would break your shield, however broad. + + Place me on Sunium's marbled steep, + Where nothing, save the waves and I + May hear our mutual murmurs sweep; + There, swan-like, let me sing and die; + A land of slaves shall ne'er be mine-- + Dash down yon cup of Samian wine! + + + +HELPS TO STUDY. + +Historical: The decline of Greece is the theme of this poem. Byron +represents a Greek poet as contrasting ancient and modern Greece, showing +that, in modern Greece, "all except their sun is set." + + +Notes and Questions. + +What does the first stanza tell? + +What are "the arts of war and peace"? + +What nation is meant by the Franks? + +"I could not deem myself a slave." Why? + +Line 19--relates to Xerxes. + +Lines 23, 24. Explain these lines, + +Explain lines 67, 70. + + +Words and Phrases for Discussion. + + "Sappho" + "Delos" + "Phoebus" + "Marathon" + "Persian's grave" + "Salamis" + "eternal summer" + "rocky brow" + "voiceless shore" + "heroic lay" + "fettered race" + "dearth of fame" + "Of the three hundred grant but three, +To make a new Thermopylae" + + * * * * * + + +MARCO BOZZARIS + +FITZ-GREENE HALLECK + + + At midnight, in his guarded tent, + The Turk was dreaming of the hour + When Greece, her knee in suppliance bent, + Should tremble at his power. + In dreams, through camp and court he bore + The trophies of a conqueror; + In dreams, his song of triumph heard; + Then wore his monarch's signet-ring; + Then pressed that monarch's throne--a king: + As wild his thoughts, and gay of wing, + As Eden's garden-bird. + + At midnight, in the forest shades, + Bozzaris ranged his Suliote band, + True as the steel of their tried blades, + Heroes in heart and hand. + There had the Persian's thousands stood, + There had the glad earth drunk their blood, + On old Plataea's day: + And now there breathed that haunted air, + The sons of sires who conquered there, + With arms to strike, and soul to dare, + As quick, as far as they. + + An hour passed on--the Turk awoke; + That bright dream was his last: + He woke--to hear his sentries shriek, + "To arms! they come! the Greek! the Greek!" + He woke--to die mid flames and smoke, + And shout and groan, and sabre-stroke, + And death-shots falling thick and fast + As lightnings from the mountain-cloud; + And heard, with voice as trumpet loud, + Bozzaris cheer his band: + "Strike!--till the last armed foe expires; + Strike!--for your altars and your fires; + Strike!--for the green graves of your sires; + God--and your native land!" + + They fought--like brave men, long and well; + They piled the ground with Moslem slain; + They conquered--but Bozzaris fell, + Bleeding at every vein. + His few surviving comrades saw + His smile, when rang their proud--"Hurrah," + And the red field was won: + Then saw in death his eyelids close, + Calmly as to a night's response, + Like flowers at set of sun. + + But to the hero, when his sword + Has won the battle for the free, + Thy voice sounds like a prophet's word, + And in its hollow tones are heard + The thanks of millions yet to be. + Bozzaris! with, the storied brave + Greece nurtured in her glory's time, + Rest thee--there is no prouder grave, + Even in her own proud clime. + We tell thy doom without a sigh; + For thou art Freedom's now, and Fame's-- + One of the few, the immortal names + That were not born to die. + + + +HELPS TO STUDY. + +Biographical and Historical: Fitz-Greene Halleck was born in Connecticut, +July 8, 1790, and died November 19, 1867. Of his poems, "Marco Bozzaris" is +probably the best known. Marco Bozzaris, leader of the Greek revolution, +was, killed August 20, 1823, in an attack upon the Turks near Missolonghi, +a Greek town. His last words were: "To die for liberty is a pleasure, not a +pain." + + +Notes and Questions. + +Over whom did the Turk dream he gained a victory? + +What might be the "trophies of a conqueror"? + +Upon whom would a monarch confer the privilege of wearing his signet ring? + +Trace the successive steps by which the Turk in his dream rises to the +summit of his ambition. + +What other "immortal names" do you know? + +"Suliote"--natives of Suli, a mountainous district in Albania (European +Turkey). + +"Plataea's day" refers to the victory of the Greeks over the Persians on +this field 479 B. C. + +"Moslem"--Mohammedans--name given the Turks. + + +Words and Phrases for Discussion. + + "tried blades" + "haunted air" + "storied brave" + + * * * * * + + +THE BURIAL OF SIR JOHN MOORE + +CHARLES WOLFE + + Not a drum was heard, not a funeral note, + At his corse to the rampart we hurried; + Not a soldier discharged his farewell shot + O'er the grave where our hero we buried. + + We buried him darkly at dead of night, + The sods with our bayonets turning, + By the struggling moonbeams' misty light, + And the lantern dimly burning. + + No useless coffin inclosed his breast, + Nor in sheet nor in shroud we wound him; + But he lay like a warrior taking his rest, + With his martial cloak around him. + + Few and short were the prayers we said, + And we spike not a word of sorrow; + But we steadfastly gazed on the face of the dead, + And we bitterly thought of the morrow. + + We thought, as we hollowed his narrow bed, + And smoothed down his lonely pillow, + That the foe and the stranger would tread o'er his head, + And we far away on the billow. + + Lightly they'll talk of the spirit that's gone, + And o'er his cold ashes upbraid him; + But little he'll reck, if they let him sleep on + In the grave where a Briton has laid him. + + But half of our heavy task was done + When the clock struck the hour for retiring; + And we heard the distant and random gun + That the foe was sullenly firing. + + Slowly and sadly we laid him down, + From the field of his fame fresh and gory; + We carved not a line, we raised not a stone, + But we left him alone with his glory. + + + +HELPS TO STUDY. + +Charles Wolfe, a British clergyman, was born at Dublin, December 14, 1791, +and died at Cork, February 21, 1823. His poem, "The Burial of Sir John +Moore," is the only one of his works now widely read. + +Historical: Sir John Moore, an English general, was killed (January 16, +1809) in an engagement between the English and the army of Napoleon at +Corunna, in Spain. In accordance with an expressed wish, he was buried at +night on the battlefield. In St. Paul's Cathedral, London, a monument was +erected to his memory, and a stone also marks the spot where he was buried +on the ramparts, at Corunna. Note that it was from this port that the +Spanish Armada sailed. + + +Notes and Questions. + +Who tells the story of the poem? + +What is the narrator's feeling for Sir John Moore? How do you know? + +What impressions of Sir John Moore do you get from reading this poem? + +Which stanza or stanzas do you like best? Why? + +Select the lines that seem to you most beautiful and memorize them. + +Which is the greater memorial, a monument of stone or bronze, or such a +poem as this? Why? + + +Words and Phrases for Discussion. + + "corse" + "upbraid" + "rampart" + "random" + "bayonets" + "sullenly" + "shroud" + "rock" + "spirit" + "struggling" + "Not a soldier discharged his farewell shot" + "The struggling moonbeam" + "We bitterly thought of the morrow" + + * * * * * + + +ABSALOM + +NATHANIEL PARKER WILLIS + + The waters slept. Night's silvery veil hung low + On Jordan's bosom, and the eddies curled + Their glassy rings beneath it, like the still, + Unbroken beating of the sleeper's pulse. + The reeds bent down the stream; the willow leaves, + With a soft cheek upon the lulling tide, + Forgot the lifting winds; and the long stems, + Whose flowers the water, like a gentle nurse, + Bears on its bosom, quietly gave way, + And leaned in graceful attitudes to rest. + How strikingly the course of nature tells, + By its light heed of human suffering, + That it was fashioned for a happier world! + + King David's limbs were weary. He had fled + From far Jerusalem; and now he stood, + With his faint people, for a little rest, + Upon the shore of Jordan. The light wind + Of morn was stirring, and he bared his brow + To its refreshing breath; for he had worn + The mourner's covering, and he had not felt + That he could see his people until now. + They gathered round him on the fresh green bank, + And spoke their kindly words; and as the sun + Rose up in heaven, he knelt among them there, + And bowed his head upon his hands to pray. + Oh, when the heart is full--when bitter thoughts + Come crowding thickly up for utterance, + And the poor, common words of courtesy + Are such an empty mockery--how much + The bursting heart may pour itself in prayer! + He prayed for Israel; and his voice went up + Strongly and fervently. He prayed for those + Whose love had been his shield; and his deep tones. + Grew tremulous. But oh! for Absalom-- + For his estranged, misguided Absalom-- + The proud, bright being who had burst away + In all his princely beauty, to defy + The heart that cherished him--for him he poured, + In agony that would not be controlled, + Strong supplication, and forgave him there, + Before his God, for his deep sinfulness. + The pall was settled. He who slept beneath + Was straightened for the grave; and as the folds + Sunk to the still proportions, they betrayed + The matchless symmetry of Absalom. + His hair was yet unshorn, and silken curls + Were floating round the tassels as they swayed + To the admitted air, as glossy now + As when, in hours of gentle dalliance, bathing + The snowy fingers of Judea's daughters. + His helm was at his feet; his banner, soiled + With trailing through Jerusalem, was laid, + Reversed, beside him; and the jeweled hilt, + Whose diamonds lit the passage of his blade, + Rested, like mockery, on his covered brow. + The soldiers of the king trod to and fro, + Clad in the garb of battle; and their chief, + The mighty Joab, stood beside the bier, + And gazed upon the dark pall steadfastly, + As if he feared the slumberer might stir. + A slow step startled him. He grasped his blade + As if a trumpet rang; but the bent form + Of David entered, and he gave command, + In a low tone, to his few followers, + And left him with his dead. The King stood still + Till the last echo died; then, throwing off + The sackcloth from his brow, and laying back + The pall from the still features of his child, + He bowed his head upon him, and broke forth + In the resistless eloquence of woe: + + "Alas, my noble boy, that thou shouldst die! + Thou, who wert made so beautifully fair! + That death should settle in thy glorious eye, + And leave his stillness in this clustering hair! + How could he mark thee for the silent tomb, + My proud boy, Absalom? + + "Cold is thy brow, my son, and I am chill + As to my bosom I have tried to press thee! + How I was wont to feel my pulses thrill, + Like a rich harp-string, yearning to caress thee, + And hear thy sweet '_My father!_' from these dumb + And cold lips, Absalom! + + "But death is on thee. I shall hear the gush + Of music, and the voices of the young; + And life will pass me in the mantling blush, + And the dark tresses to the soft winds flung-- + But thou no more, with thy sweet voice, shalt come + To meet me, Absalom! + + "And oh! when I am stricken, and my heart, + Like a bruised reed, is waiting to be broken, + How will its love for thee, as I depart, + Yearn for thine ear to drink its last deep token! + It were so sweet, amid death's gathering gloom, + To see thee, Absalom! + + "And now, farewell! 'Tis hard to give thee up, + With death so like a gentle slumber on thee; + And thy dark sin! Oh, I could drink the cup, + If from this woe its bitterness had won thee. + May God have called thee, like a wanderer, home, + My lost boy, Absalom!" + + He covered up his face, and bowed himself + A moment on his child; then, giving him + A look of melting tenderness, he clasped + His hands convulsively, as if in prayer; + And, as if strength were given him of God, + He rose up calmly, and composed the pall + Firmly and decently, and left him there, + As if his rest had been a breathing sleep. + + + +HELPS TO STUDY. + +Nathaniel Parker Willis was born in Maine in 1806. He was a graduate of +Yale and was an early contributor to various periodicals, including the +"Youths' Companion," which magazine had been founded by his father. The +selection here given is regarded as the poet's masterpiece. + + +Historical: Absalom, the son of David, King of Israel, rebelled against his +father. David sent his army to put down the rebellion, but said to his +captains, "Deal gently for my sake with the young man, even with Absalom." +In spite of this entreaty, Absalom was slain by Joab, a captain in David's +army. The first forty-one lines relate to events preceding the battle, the +remainder to events following the battle. Read 2 Samuel XVIII. + + +Notes and Questions. + +Find the Jordan on your map. + +Locate the Dead Sea; the wood of Ephraim where Absalom was killed. + +Describe the picture you see when you read the first stanza. + +What do we call such expressions as "Night's silvery veil"? + +What is night's silvery veil? + +"The willow leaves with a soft cheek upon the lulling tide, Forgot the +lifting winds"--What does this mean? Why "lulling tide"? + +What flowers does the poet mean in the eighth line? Is the poet true to +nature in what he says of them? Show why. + +Select two words or expressions that seem to you to be especially beautiful +or fit, and tell why. Do you like the selection? Why? + + +Words and Phrases for Discussion. + + "waters slept" + "melting tenderness" + "fashioned for a happier world" + "lifting winds" + "mantling blush" + "straightened for the grave" + "estranged" + "breathing sleep" + "resistless eloquence" + "bruised reed" + "still proportions" + "Whose diamonds lit the passage of his blade" + + * * * * * + + +LOCHINVAR (From "Marmion.") + +SIR WALTER SCOTT + + + O, young Lochinvar is come out of the West,-- + Through all the wide Border his steed was the best; + And, save his good broadsword, he weapons had none,-- + He rode all unarmed and he rode all alone. + So faithful in love, and so dauntless in war, + There never was knight like the young Lochinvar. + + He stayed not for brake, and he stopped not for stone, + He swam the Esk river, where ford there was none; + But ere he alighted at Netherby gate, + The bride had consented, the gallant came late: + For a laggard in love, and a dastard in war, + Was to wed the fair Ellen of brave Lochinvar. + + So boldly he entered the Netherby hall, + 'Mong bridesmen, and kinsmen, and brothers, and all: + Then spoke the bride's father, his hand on his sword + (For the poor, craven bridegroom said never a word), + "O, come ye in peace here, or come ye in war, + Or to dance at our bridal, young Lord Lochinvar?" + + "I long wooed your daughter,--my suit you denied;-- + Love swells like the Selway, but ebbs like its tide; + And now am I come, with this lost love of mine, + To lead but one measure, drink one cup of wine. + There are maidens in Scotland more lovely by far, + That would gladly be bride to the young Lochinvar!" + + The bride kissed the goblet; the knight took it up, + He quaffed off the wine, and he threw down the cup. + She looked down to blush, and she looked up to sigh, + With a smile on her lips, and a tear in her eye. + He took her soft hand, ere her mother could bar,-- + "Now tread we a measure!" said young Lochinvar. + + So stately his form, and so lovely her face, + That never a hall such a galliard did grace; + While her mother did fret, and her father did fume, + And the bridegroom stood dangling his bonnet and plume, + And the bridemaidens whispered, "'Twere better, by far, + To have matched our fair cousin with young Lochinvar." + + One touch to her hand, and one word in her ear, + When they reached the hall-door, and the charger stood near, + So light to the croupe the fair lady he swung, + So light to the saddle before her he sprung! + "She is won! we are gone, over bank, bush, and scaur; + They'll have fleet steeds that follow," quoth young Lochinvar. + + There was mounting 'mong Graemes of the Netherby clan; + Forsters, Fenwicks, and Musgraves, they rode, and they ran; + There was racing and chasing on Cannobie Lee, + But the lost bride of Netherby ne'er did they see. + So daring in love, and so dauntless in war, + Have ye e'er heard of gallant like young Lochinvar? + + +HELPS TO STUDY. + +Biographical and Historical: Walter Scott was born in Edinburgh, in 1771. +He loved the romance of Scotland's history and legends. A collection of +legendary ballads, songs, and traditions, published by him early in life +met with such immediate success that it confirmed him in his resolution to +devote himself to literary pursuits. The two selections here given, are +taken from his second metrical romance, "Marmion." Later Scott turned his +attention to prose and became the creator of the historical novel, of which +"Ivanhoe," "Kenilworth," and "Woodstock" are conspicuous examples. He died +in 1832, and lies buried in one of the most beautiful ruins in Scotland, +Dryburgh Abbey. + + +Notes and Questions. + +Find Esk River and Solway Firth on your map. + +Scott describes the tides of Solway Firth in Chapter IV of his novel, +"Redgauntlet." Compare the rhythm with that in "How They Brought the Good +News." + +What impression of Lochinvar do the opening stanzas give you? + +What purpose does the fourth stanza serve? + +Line 20--Explain this line. + +Line 46--What was the result? + +What picture does the sixth stanza give you? + +Which stanza do you like best? + +Which lines are most pleasing? + +"galliard"--a gay dance. + +"scaur"--steep bank of river. + +"clan"--a group of related families. + +Translate into your own words: "'They'll have fleet steeds that follow,' +quoth young Lochinvar." + + +Words and Phrases for Discussion. + + "laggard" + "brake" + "bar" + "charger" + "craven" + "bonnet and plume" + "dastard" + "gallant" + + * * * * * + + +THE PARTING OF MARMION AND DOUGLAS (From "Marmion.") + +SIR WALTER SCOTT + + + Not far advanced was morning day, + When Marmion did his troop array, + To Surrey's camp to ride; + He had safe conduct for his band, + Beneath the royal seal and hand, + And Douglas gave a guide. + + The train from out the castle drew, + But Marmion stopped to bid adieu: + "Though something I might 'plain," he said, + "Of cold respect to stranger guest, + Sent hither by your king's behest, + While in Tantallon's towers I staid; + Part we in friendship from your land, + And, noble Earl, receive my hand." + But Douglas round him drew his cloak, + Folded his arms, and thus he spoke: + "My manors, halls, and bowers shall still + Be open, at my sovereign's will, + To each one whom he lists, howe'er + Unmeet to be the owner's peer. + My castles are my king's alone, + From turret to foundation stone; + The hand of Douglas is his own; + And never shall, in friendly grasp, + The hand of such as Marmion clasp." + + Burned Marmion's swarthy cheek like fire, + And shook his very frame for ire; + And "This to me," he said; + "An 'twere not for thy hoary beard, + Such hand as Marmion's had not spared + To cleave the Douglas' head! + And, first, I tell thee, haughty peer, + He, who does England's message here, + Although the meanest in her state, + May well, proud Angus, be thy mate: + And, Douglas, more, I tell thee here, + Even in thy pitch of pride-- + Here, in thy hold, thy vassals near, + I tell thee, thou'rt defied! + And if thou said'st, I am not peer + To any lord in Scotland here, + Lowland or Highland, far or near, + Lord Angus, thou hast lied!" + + On the Earl's cheek, the flush of rage + O'ercame the ashen hue of age: + Fierce he broke forth; "And dar'st thou then + To beard the lion in his den, + The Douglas in his hall? + And hopest thou hence unscathed to go? + No, by Saint Bride of Bothwell, no! + Up draw-bridge, grooms,--what, warder, ho! + Let the portcullis fall." + Lord Marmion turned,--well was his need, + And dashed the rowels in his steed, + Like arrow through the archway sprung; + The ponderous grate behind him rung: + To pass there was such scanty room, + The bars, descending, razed his plume. + + The steed along the draw-bridge flies, + Just as it trembled on the rise; + Nor lighter does the swallow skim + Along the smooth lake's level brim; + And when Lord Marmion reached his band + He halts, and turns with clinched hand + And shout of loud defiance pours, + And shook his gauntlet at the towers. + "Horse! horse!" the Douglas cried, "and chase!" + But soon he reined his fury's pace: + "A royal messenger he came, + Though most unworthy of the name. + Saint Mary mend my fiery mood! + Old age ne'er cools the Douglas' blood; + I thought to slay him where he stood. + 'Tis pity of him, too," he cried; + "Bold he can speak, and fairly ride-- + I warrant him a warrior tried." + With this his mandate he recalls, + And slowly seeks his castle halls. + + + +HELPS TO STUDY. + +Historical: Marmion, an English nobleman, is sent as an envoy by Henry the +Eighth, King of England, to James the Fourth, King of Scotland. The two +countries are on the eve of war with each other. Arriving in Edinburgh, +Marmion is entrusted by King James to the care and hospitality of Douglas, +Earl of Angus, who, taking him to his castle at Tantallon, treats him with +the respect due his position as representative of the king, but at the same +time dislikes him. The war approaching, Marmion leaves to join the English +camp. This sketch describes the leave-taking. + + +Notes and Questions. + +In what part of the castle does this conversation take place? What tells +you? + +Where are Marmion's followers during this time? Where are Douglas's +soldiery and servants? What lines tell you? + +Notice how simply Marmion reminds Douglas of the claim he had upon +hospitality, while in Scotland. Lines 9 to 12. + +Note the claims that have always been allowed the stranger: "And stranger +is a holy name, Guidance and rest and food and fire, In vain he never must +require." + +What part of Marmion's claim does Douglas recognize? Which lines show this? + +What claim does Marmion make for one "who does England's message"? + +What do we call one "who do England's message" at Washington? + +Is this Marmion's personal pride or pride of country (patriotism)? Read the +lines in which Marmion's personal pride shows itself in resentment of +Douglas's insults. + +What does Douglas forget when he threatens Marmion? Line 69. + +Which man appears to greater advantage in this scene? + +"train"--procession. + +"'plain"--complain. + +"Tantal'lon"--Douglas's castle. + +"warder"--guard. + +"peer"--equal. + +"peer"--a nobleman. + +"Saint Bride"--a saint belonging to the house of Douglas, + +"rowel"--wheel of a spur. + + +Words and Phrases for Discussion. + + "pitch of pride" + "ponderous grate" + "swarthy cheek" + "flush of rage" + "level brim" + "haughty peer" + "ire" + "vassals" + "gauntlet" + "unmeet" + "hold" + + * * * * * + + +FOR A' THAT AND A' THAT + +ROBERT BURNS + + + Is there, for honest poverty, + That hangs his head, and a' that? + The coward-slave, we pass him by; + We dare be poor for a' that! + For a' that, and a' that, + Our toils obscure, and a' that; + The rank is but the guinea stamp, + The man's the gowd for a' that. + + What though on hamely fare we dine, + Wear hodden-gray, an a' that; + Gie fools their silks, and knaves their wine, + A man's a man for a' that! + For a' that, and a' that, + Their tinsel show, and a' that; + The honest man, though e'er sae poor, + Is king o' men for a' that. + + Ye see yon birkie, ca'd a lord, + Wha struts, and stares, and a' that; + Though hundreds worship at his word, + He's but a coof for a' that; + For a' that, and a' that, + His ribband, star, and a' that; + The man of independent mind, + He looks and laughs at a' that. + + A prince can make a belted knight, + A marquis, duke, and a' that; + But an honest man's aboon his might, + Guid faith, he maunna fa' that! + For a' that, and a' that; + Their dignities, and a' that; + The pith o' sense, and pride o' worth, + Are higher rank than a' that. + + Then let us pray that come it may, + As come it will for a' that, + That sense and worth, o'er a' the earth, + Shall bear the gree, and a' that. + For a' that, and a' that, + It's comin' yet, for a' that, + That man to man, the warld o'er + Shall brothers be for a' that. + + + +HELPS TO STUDY. + +Biographical: Robert Burns was born in Ayrshire, Scotland, in 1759. His +life was short and full of poverty and privation; but he saw poetry in all +the commonplace occurrences of every-day life. His sympathy went out to all +human kind and, as the above selection shows, he had a high regard for the +real worth of man. + + +Notes and Questions. + +Does birth or station in life determine the man? + +Lines 7, 8. Explain these lines. + +Lines 29-40. What do these lines mean? + +In the following what is omitted? Man's (27); It's (38); o'er (39). + +Why did Burns use the word "coward-slave"? + +Does the poet say a man is "king of men" because he is poor? + +What makes a man a king among his fellowmen? + +Scotch words and their English equivalents: a'--all; wha--who; gowd--gold; +hamely--homely; hodden--gray--coarse gray cloth; gie--give; sae--so; +birkie--clever fellow; ca'd--called; coof--dunce; aboon--above; guid--good; +maunna fa'--must not try; gree--prize. + + +Words and Phrases for Discussion. + + "toils obscure" + "pith o' sense" + "guinea stamp" + "ribband" + "star" + "belted knight" + + * * * * * + + +SELECTIONS FROM SHAKESPEARE + +1. MERCY + +MERCHANT OF VENICE, ACT IV., SCENE I. + + + The quality of mercy is not strained; + It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven + Upon the place beneath; it is twice blessed; + It blesseth him that gives, and him that takes. + 'Tis mightiest in the mightiest; it becomes + The throned monarch better than his crown; + His sceptre shows the force of temporal power, + The attribute to awe and majesty, + Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings: + But mercy is above the sceptred sway: + It is enthroned in the hearts of kings, + It is an attribute of God himself: + And earthly power doth then show likest God's, + When mercy seasons justice. Therefore, + Jew, though justice be thy plea, consider this,-- + That, in the course of justice, none of us + Should see salvation; we do pray for mercy; + And that same prayer doth teach us all to render + The deeds of mercy. + + + +HELPS TO STUDY. + +Biographical and Historical: William Shakespeare, the greatest of English +poets, indeed one of the greatest of the world's poets, was born in 1564 at +Stratford-on-Avon. As a young man of twenty-two, after his marriage with +Anne Hathaway, he went up to London, where he became connected with +theaters, first, tradition says, by holding horses at the doors. The next +twenty years he spent in London as an actor, and in writing poems and +plays, later becoming a shareholder as well as an actor. The last ten years +of his life were spent at Stratford, where he died at the age of fifty-two. +This was the time of Queen Elizabeth and is known as the Elizabethan Age. +It was the age richest in genius of all kinds, but especially in the +creation of dramatic literature. + +In the foregoing selection, Portia, disguised as a lawyer, makes this +famous speech in pleading the cause of Antonio against Shylock. + + +Notes + +"strained"--restrained "shows"--is the emblem of + + +Words and Phrases for Discussion. + + "temporal power" + "sceptered sway" + "Earthly power doth then show likest + God's When mercy seasons justice" + + * * * * * + +2. THE SEVEN AGES OF MAN + +AS YOU LIKE IT, ACT II, SCENE 7. + + + ALL the world's a stage, + And all the men and women merely players: + They have their exits and their entrances; + And one man in his time plays many parts, + His acts being seven ages. At first, the infant, + Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms; + Then the whining school-boy, with his satchel + And shining morning face, creeping like snail + Unwillingly to school. And then the lover, + Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad + Made to his mistress' eye-brow. Then a soldier, + Full of strange oaths, and bearded like the pard, + Jealous in honor, sudden and quick in quarrel, + Seeking the bubble reputation + Even in the cannon's mouth. And then the Justice, + In fair round belly with good capon lined,-- + With eyes severe, and beard of formal cut, + Full of wise saws and modern instances; + And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts + Into the lean and slippered pantaloon, + With spectacles on nose, and pouch on side; + His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide + For his shrunk shank; and his big manly voice, + Turning again toward childish treble, pipes + And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all, + That ends this strange eventful history, + Is second childishness, and mere oblivion, + Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything. + + + +HELPS TO STUDY. + +Notes + +"Mewling"--squalling. +"sudden"--impetuous. +"sans"--without. +"his"--its, which was just coming into use at this time. +"formal cut"--trim, near--not shaggy as that of the soldier's, +"wise saws"--wise sayings. +"modern instances"--everyday examples, illustrations. +"strange oaths"--soldiers are proverbially profane--probably satirical +reference to the affectation of foreign oaths by soldiers who have been +abroad. + + +Words and Phrases for Discussion. + +Comparisons: + "creeping like snail" + "sighing like furnace" + "bearded like the pard" + + "eyes severe" + "woeful ballad" + "mere oblivion" + "Seeking the bubble reputation +Even in the cannon's mouth" + + * * * * * + + +3. POLONIUS'S ADVICE + +HAMLET, ACT I, SCENE 3. + + Give thy thoughts no tongue, + Nor any unproportioned thought his act. + Be thou familiar, but by no means vulgar: + The friends thou hast, and their adoption tried, + Grapple them to thy soul with hoops of steel; + But do not dull thy palm with entertainment + Of each new-hatched, unfledged comrade. Beware + Of entrance to a quarrel; but, being in, + Bear it, that the opposed may beware of thee. + Give every man thine ear, but few thy voice: + Take each man's censure, but reserve thy judgment + Costly thy habit as thy purse can buy, + But not expressed in fancy; rich, not gaudy: + For the apparel oft proclaims the man. + Neither a borrower nor a lender be: + For loan oft loses both itself and friend; + And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry. + This above all,--to thine own self be true; + And it must follow, as the night the day, + Thou canst not then be false to any man. + + + +HELPS TO STUDY. + + +Notes and Questions. + +"unproportioned"--not worthy or fitting the occasion. +"familiar"--courteous, friendly. +"vulgar"-unduly familiar. +"their adoption tried"--tested by long acquaintance. +"dull thy palm"--lose discrimination. +"censure"--opinion. +"expressed in fancy"--loud, ostentatious. +"husbandry"--thrift. + +Put in your own words: + + + "Give thy thoughts no tongue, + Nor any unproportioned thought his act." + + "Give every man thy ear, but few thy voice." + + "The apparel oft proclaims the man." + + "Borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry." + + +Words and Phrases for Discussion. + + "hoops of steel" + + * * * * * + + +4. MAN + +HAMLET, ACT II, SCENE 2. + + + What a piece of work is man! + How noble in reason! How infinite in faculties! + In form and movement, how express and admirable! + In action, how like an angel! In apprehension, how like a god! + The beauty of the world! The paragon of animals! + + + +HELPS TO STUDY. + + +Words and Phrases for Discussion. + + "express" + "paragon" + "infinite" + "apprehension" + + * * * * * + + +5. HAMLET'S SOLILOQUY + +HAMLET, ACT III, SCENE 1. + + + To be or not to be: that is the question: + Whether 'tis nobler in the mind, to suffer + The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, + Or to take arms against a sea of troubles, + And by opposing end them. To die; to sleep; + No more; and, by a sleep to say we end + The heartache, and the thousand natural shocks + That flesh is heir to. 'Tis a consummation + Devoutly to be wished. To die, to sleep; + To sleep? Perchance to dream! ay, there's the rub; + For in that sleep of death what dreams may come + When we have shuffled off this mortal coil, + Must give us pause: there's the respect + That makes calamity of so long life; + For who would bear the whips and scorns of time, + The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely, + The pangs of despised love, the law's delay, + The insolence of office and the spurns + That patient merit of the unworthy takes + When he himself might his quietus make + With a bare bodkin? Who would fardels bear, + To grunt and sweat under a weary life, + But that the dread of something after death, + The undiseover'd country, from whose bourn + No traveler returns, puzzles the will + And makes us rather bear those ills we have + Than fly to others that we know not of? + Thus conscience does make cowards of us all; + And thus the native hue of resolution + Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought, + And enterprises of great pitch and moment, + With this regard their currents turn awry, + And lose the name of action. + + + +HELPS TO STUDY. + +Notes + +"coil"--turmoil. +"respect"--consideration. +"fardels"--burdens. + + +Words and Phrases for Discussion. + + "shuffled off this mortal coil" + "puzzles the will" + "native hue of resolution" + "pale cast of thought" + "great pitch and moment" + + * * * * * + + +6. REPUTATION + +OTHELLO, ACT III, SCENE 3. + + + Good name in man and woman, dear my lord, + Is the immediate jewel of their souls: + Who steals my purse, steals trash; 'tis something, nothing; + 'Twas mine, 'tis his, and has been slave to thousands; + But he, that filches from me my good name, + Robs me of that which not enriches him, + And makes me poor indeed. + + + +HELPS TO STUDY. + + +Words and Phrases for Discussion. + + "immediate jewel of their souls" + "Who steals my purse steals trash" + + * * * * * + + +7. WOLSEY AND CROMWELL + +KING HENRY VIII, ACT III, SCENE 2. + + + WOLSEY: Farewell, a long farewell, to all my greatness! + This is the state of man: Today he puts forth + The tender leaves of hope; tomorrow blossoms, + And bears his blushing honors thick upon him; + The third day comes a frost, a killing frost, + And--when he thinks, good easy man, full surely + His greatness is a-ripening--nips his root; + And then he falls, as I do. I have ventured, + Like little wanton boys that swim on bladders, + This many summers, in a sea of glory; + But far beyond my depth: my high-blown pride + At length broke under me, and now has left me, + Weary and old with service, to the mercy + Of a rude stream, that must forever hide me. + Vain pomp and glory of this world, I hate ye: + I feel my heart new opened. O, how wretched + Is that poor man that hangs on princes' favors! + There is, betwixt that smile we would aspire to, + That sweet aspect of princes, and their ruin, + More pangs and fears than wars or women have; + And when he falls, he falls like Lucifer, + Never to hope again.-- + + Cromwell, I did not think to shed a tear + In all my miseries; but thou hast forced me, + Out of thy honest truth, to play the woman. + Let's dry our eyes; and thus far hear me, Cromwell; + And--when I am forgotten, as I shall be, + And sleep in dull cold marble, where no mention + Of me more must be heard of--say, I taught thee; + Say, Wolsey--that once trod the ways of glory, + And sounded all the depths and shoals of honor-- + Found thee a way, out of his wreck, to rise in; + A sure and safe one, though thy master missed it. + Mark but my fall, and that that ruined me. + Cromwell, I charge thee, fling away ambition: + By that sin fell the angels: how can man, then, + The image of his Maker, hope to win by't? + Love thyself last; cherish those hearts that hate thee; + Corruption wins not more than honesty: + Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace, + To silence envious tongues. Be just, and fear not. + Let all the ends thou aim'st at be thy country's, + Thy God's, and truth's; then, if thou fall'st, O Cromwell, + Thou fall'st a blessed martyr! Serve the king; + And--Prithee, lead me in: + There take an inventory of all I have, + To the last penny; 'tis the king's; my robe, + And my integrity to Heaven, is all + I dare now call mine own. O Cromwell, Cromwell, + Had I but served my God with half the zeal + I served my king, he would not in mine age + Have left me naked to mine enemies! + + + +HELPS TO STUDY. + +Notes + +"This many summers"--this nineteen years. +"Like Lucifer"--See Isaiah XIV, 12. +"To play the woman"--to shed tears. + + * * * * * + + +8. CASSIO AND IAGO + +OTHELLO. ACT II. SCENE III. + + +_Iago_. What, are you hurt, lieutenant? + +_Cassio_. Ay, past all surgery. + +_Iago_. Marry, heaven forbid! + +_Cas_. Reputation, reputation, reputation! O, I have lost my +reputation! I have lost the immortal part of myself, and what remains is +bestial. My reputation, Iago, my reputation! + +_Iago_. As I am an honest man, I thought you had received some bodily +wound; there is more sense in that than in reputation. Reputation is an +idle and most false imposition; oft got without merit, and lost without +deserving: you have lost no reputation at all, unless you repute yourself +such a loser. What, man! there are ways to recover the general again: you +are but now cast in his mood, a punishment more in policy than in malice; +even so as one would beat his offenceless dog to affright an imperious +lion: sue to him again, and he's yours. + +_Cas_. I will rather sue to be despised than to deceive so good a +commander with so slight, so drunken, and so indiscreet an officer. Drunk? +and speak parrot? and squabble? swagger? swear? and discourse fustian with +one's own shadow? O thou invisible spirit of wine, if thou hast no name to +be known by, let us call thee devil! + +_Iago_. What was he that you followed with your sword? What had he +done to you? + +_Cas_. I know not. + +_Iago_. Is't possible? + +_Cas_. I remember a mass of things, but nothing distinctly; a quarrel, +but nothing wherefore. O God, that men should put an enemy in their mouths +to steal away their brains! that we should, with joy, pleasance, revel, and +applause, transform ourselves into beasts! + +_Iago_. Why, but you are now well enough: how came you thus recovered? + +_Cas_. It hath pleased the devil drunkenness to give place to the +devil wrath: one unperfectness shows me another, to make me frankly despise +myself. + +_Iago_. Come, you are too severe a moraler: as the time, the place, +and the condition of this country stands, I could heartily wish this had +not befallen; but, since it is as it is, mend it for your own good. + +_Cas_. I will ask him for my place again; he shall tell me I am a +drunkard! Had I as many mouths as Hydra, such an answer would stop them +all. To be now a sensible man, by and by a fool, and presently a beast! O +strange! Every inordinate cup is unblessed and the ingredient is a devil. + +_Iago_. Come, come, good wine is a good familiar creature, if it be +well used: exclaim no more against it. And, good lieutenant, I think you +think I love you. + +_Cas_. I have well approved it, sir. I drunk! + +_Iago_. You or any man living may be drunk at a time, man. I'll tell +you what you shall do. Our general's wife is now the general: I may say so +in this respect, for that he hath devoted and given up himself to the +contemplation, mark, and denotement of her parts and graces: confess +yourself freely to her: importune her help to put you in your place again: +she is of so free, so kind, so apt, so blessed a disposition, she holds it +a vice in her goodness not to do more than she is requested: this broken +joint between you and her husband entreat her to splinter; and my fortunes +against any lay worth naming, this crack of your love shall grow stronger +than it was before. + +_Cas_. You advise me well. + +_Iago_. I protest in the sincerity of love and honest kindness. + +_Cas_. I think it freely; and betimes in the morning I will beseech +the virtuous Desdemona to undertake for me: I am desperate of my fortunes +if they check me here. + +_Iago_. You are in the right. Good night, lieutenant; I must to the +watch. + +_Cas_. Good night, honest Iago. + + + +HELPS TO STUDY. Notes + +"marry"--an exclamation--indeed! +"cast"--dismissed. +"fustian"--empty phrasing, +"pleasance"--merriment. +"moraler"--moralizer + + +Words and Phrases for Discussion. + + "immortal part of myself" + "repute yourself" + "as many mouths as Hydra" + "crack of your love" + "false imposition" + "speak parrot" + "denotement" + "must to the watch" + + * * * * * + + + + +PART II + +SELECTIONS FROM GREAT AMERICAN AUTHORS + +_"He cometh unto you with a tale which holdeth children from play and old +men from the chimney corner."_ + +--SIR PHILIP SIDNEY. + + + + * * * * * + +WASHINGTON IRVING + +"Washington's work is ended and the child shall be named after him," so +said the mother of Washington Irving at his birth in New York, April 3, +1783. When, six years later, all New York was enthusiastically greeting the +first President of the United States, a Scotch servant in the Irving family +followed the President into a shop with the youngest son of the family and +approaching him said, "Please, your honor, here's a bairn was named for +you." Washington, putting his hand upon the boy's head, gave him his +blessing. It seems eminently fitting that this boy, who became known as the +Father of American Letters, should write the biography of the man whose +name he bore, and whom we know as the Father of his Country. + +New York was then the capital of the country, a city of about twenty-five +thousand inhabitants, small enough so that it was an easy matter for the +city boy to get into the country. New York itself retained many traces of +its Dutch origin, and upon its streets could be seen men from all parts of +the world. Here the boy grew up happy, seeing many sides of American life, +both in the city and in the country. He was fun-loving and social, and +could hardly be called a student. He greatly preferred "Robinson Crusoe" +and "Sinbad" to the construing of Latin. Best of all, he liked to go +exploring down to the water front to see the tall ships setting sail for +the other side of the world, or, as he grew older, up the Hudson and into +the Catskills, or to that very Sleepy Hollow which lives for us now because +of him. Irving liked people, and had many warm friends. + +These three tastes--for people, for books, and for travel--his life was +destined to gratify. His health being delicate, he was sent abroad at +twenty-one, and the captain of the ship he sailed in, noting his fragile +appearance, said, "There's one who'll go overboard before we get across," +but he happily proved a mistaken prophet. Irving not only survived the +voyage, but spent two years traveling in Italy, France, Sicily, and the +Netherlands. The romantic spirit strong within him eagerly absorbed +mediaeval history and tradition. "My native country was full of youthful +promise; Europe was rich in the accumulated treasures of age." + +Upon his return home, Irving was admitted to the bar, but he never +seriously turned his attention to law. In 1809 he published "A History of +New York by Diedrich Knickerbocker." It was a humorous history of New +Amsterdam, a delicious mingling of sense and nonsense, over which Walter +Scott said his "sides were absolutely sore with laughing." While writing +this history a great sorrow touched his life--the death of a young girl to +whom he was deeply attached. + +Ten years later, upon his second visit to Europe, Irving published "The +Sketch Book." It rapidly won favor both in England and America. Byron said +of it: "I know it by heart; at least there is not a passage that I cannot +refer to immediately." This second visit to Europe was to be a short +business trip, but as it chanced, it lasted seventeen years. The first five +years were spent in England. Later he went to Spain, and as a result of +this visit, we have a series of books dealing with Spanish history and +tradition--"The Alhambra," "The Conquest of Granada" and "The Life of +Columbus." During all these years and in all these places, he met and won +the regard of hosts of interesting people. Everyone praised his books, and +everyone liked the likable American, with his distinguished face and gentle +manners. + +In 1832 Irving was gladly welcomed back to America, for many had feared +that his long absence might mean permanent residence abroad. The next ten +years were spent in his beautiful home, Sunnyside, at +Tarrytown-on-the-Hudson. Daniel Webster, Secretary of State, could find no +person more gratifying to the Spanish people, than the author of the "Life +of Columbus" and, in 1842, persuaded Irving to represent us at the Spanish +court. After four years, he returned to America and passed his time almost +exclusively in writing. The work which he finished just before his death, +in November, 1859, was the "Life of Washington." He was buried on a hill +overlooking the river and a portion of the Sleepy Hollow Valley. + +Because of the ease and smoothness of his style, and his delicate sense of +form, Irving delighted his own and succeeding generations of both his +countrymen and his British cousins. All his work is pervaded by the strong +and winning personal quality that brought him the love and admiration of +all. Charles Dudley Warner says of him: "The author loved good women and +little children and a pure life; he had faith in his fellow-men, a kindly +sympathy with the lowest, without any subservience to the highest. His +books are wholesome, full of sweetness and charm, of humor without any +sting, of amusement without any stain; and their more solid qualities are +marred by neither pedantry nor pretension." + + * * * * * + + +RIP VAN WINKLE + +A POSTHUMOUS WRITING OF DIEDRICH KNICKERBOCKER + +FROM "THE SKETCH BOOK," BY WASHINGTON IRVING + + By Woden, God of Saxons, + From whence comes Wensday, that is Wodensday. + Truth is a thing that ever I will keep + Unto thylke day in which I creep into + My sepulchre. +--CARTWRIGHT. + +The following tale was found among the papers of the late Diedrich +Knickerbocker, an old gentleman of New York, who was very curious in the +Dutch history of the province, and the manners of the descendants from its +primitive settlers. His historical researches, however, did not lie so much +among books as among men; for the former are lamentably scanty on his +favorite topics; whereas he found the old burghers, and still more their +wives, rich in that legendary lore so invaluable to true history. Whenever, +therefore, he happened upon a genuine Dutch family, snugly shut up in its +low-roofed farmhouse under a spreading sycamore, he looked upon it as a +little clasped volume of black-letter, and studied it with the zeal of a +book worm. The result of all these researches was a history of the province +during the reign of the Dutch governors, which he published some years +since. There have been various opinions as to the literary character of his +work, and, to tell the truth, it is not a whit better than it should be. +Its chief merit is its scrupulous accuracy, which indeed was a little +questioned on its first appearance, but has since been completely +established; and it is now admitted into all historical collections, as a +book of unquestionable authority. + +The old gentleman died shortly after the publication of his work, and now +that he is dead and gone, it cannot do much harm to his memory to say that +his time might have been much better employed in weightier labors. He, +however, was apt to ride his hobby his own way; and though it did now and +then kick up the dust a little in the eyes of his neighbors, and grieve the +spirit of some friends, for whom he felt the truest deference and +affection; yet his errors and follies are remembered "more in sorrow than +in anger," and it begins to be suspected that he never intended to injure +or offend. But however his memory may be appreciated by critics, it is +still held dear by many folk, whose good opinion is worth having; +particularly by certain biscuit-bakers, who have gone so far as to imprint +his likeness on their new-year cakes; and have thus given him a chance for +immortality, almost equal to the being stamped on a Waterloo Medal, or a +Queen Anne's Farthing. + +Whoever has made a voyage up the Hudson must remember the Kaatskill +Mountains. They are a dismembered branch of the great Appalachian family, +and are seen away to the west of the river, swelling up to a noble height, +and lording it over the surrounding country. Every change of season, every +change of weather, indeed, every hour of the day, produces some change in +the magical hues and shapes of these mountains, and they are regarded by +all the good wives, far and near, as perfect barometers. When the weather +is fair and settled, they are clothed in blue and purple, and print their +bold outlines on the clear evening sky; but sometimes when the rest of the +landscape is cloudless they will gather a hood of gray vapors about their +summits, which, in the last rays of the setting sun, will glow and light up +like a crown of glory. + +At the foot of these fairy mountains, the voyager may have descried the +light smoke curling up from a village, whose shingle-roofs gleam among the +trees, just where the blue tints of the upland melt away into the fresh +green of the nearer landscape. It is a little village of great antiquity, +having been founded by some of the Dutch colonists in the early time of the +province, just about the beginning of the government of the good Peter +Stuyvesant (may he rest in peace!), and there were some of the houses of +the original settlers standing within a few years, built of small yellow +bricks brought from Holland, having latticed windows and gable fronts, +surmounted with weathercocks. + +In that same village, and in one of these very houses (which, to tell the +precise truth, was sadly time-worn and weather-beaten), there lived many +years since, while the country was yet a province of Great Britain, a +simple, good-natured fellow, of the name of Rip Van Winkle. He was a +descendant of the Van Winkles who figured so gallantly in the chivalrous +days of Peter Stuyvesant, and accompanied him to the siege of Fort +Christina. He inherited, however, but little of the martial character of +his ancestors. I have observed that he was a simple, good-natured man; he +was, moreover, a kind neighbor, and an obedient henpecked husband. Indeed, +to the latter circumstance might be owing that meekness of spirit which +gained him such universal popularity; for those men are most apt to be +obsequious and conciliating abroad, who are under the discipline of shrews +at home. Their tempers, doubtless, are rendered pliant and malleable in the +fiery furnace of domestic tribulation; and a curtain lecture is worth all +the sermons in the world for teaching the virtues of patience and +long-suffering. A termagant wife may, therefore, in some respects be +considered a tolerable blessing, and if so, rip Van Winkle was thrice +blessed. + +Certain it is, that he was a great favorite among all the good wives of the +village, who, as usual with the amiable sex, took his part in all family +squabbles; and never failed, whenever they talked those matters over in +their evening gossipings, to lay all the blame on Dame Van Winkle. The +children of the village, too, would shout with joy whenever he approached. +He assisted at their sports, made their playthings, taught them to fly +kites and shoot marbles, and told them long stories of ghosts, witches, and +Indians. Whenever he went dodging about the village, he was surrounded by a +troop of them, hanging on his skirts, clambering on his back, and playing a +thousand tricks on him with impunity; and not a dog would bark at him +throughout the neighborhood. + +The great error in Rip's composition was an insuperable aversion to all +kinds of profitable labor. It could not be from the want of assiduity or +perseverance; for he would sit on a wet rock, with a rod as long and heavy +as a Tartar's lance, and fish all day without a murmur, even though he +should not be encouraged by a single nibble. He would carry a fowling-piece +on his shoulder for hours together, trudging through woods and swamps, and +up hill and down dale, to shoot a few squirrels or wild pigeons. He would +never refuse to assist a neighbor, even in the roughest toil, and was a +foremost man at all country frolics for husking Indian corn, or building +stone-fences; the women of the village, too, used to employ him to run +their errands, and to do such little odd jobs as their less obliging +husbands would not do for them. In a word, Rip was ready to attend to +anybody's business but his own; but as to doing family duty, and keeping +his farm in order, he found it impossible. + +In fact, he declared it was of no use to work on his farm; it was the most +pestilent little piece of ground in the whole country; everything about it +went wrong, and would go wrong, in spite of him. His fences were +continually falling to pieces; his cow would either go astray or get among +the cabbages; weeds were sure to grow quicker in his fields than anywhere +else; the rain always made a point of setting in just as he had some +out-door work to do; so that though his patrimonial estate had dwindled +away under his management, acre by acre, until there was little more left +than a mere patch of Indian corn and potatoes, yet it was the +worst-conditioned farm in the neighborhood. + +His children, too, were as ragged and wild as if they belonged to nobody. +His son Rip, an urchin begotten in his own likeness, promised to inherit +the habits, with the old clothes of his father. He was generally seen +trooping like a colt at his mother's heels, equipped in a pair of father's +cast-off galligaskins, which he had much ado to hold up with, one hand, as +a fine lady does her train in bad weather. + +Rip Van Winkle, however, was one of those happy mortals, of foolish, +well-oiled dispositions, who take the world easy, eat white bread or brown, +whichever can be got with least thought or trouble, and would rather starve +on a penny than work for a pound. If left to himself, he would have +whistled life away in perfect contentment; but his wife kept continually +dinning in his ears about his idleness, his carelessness, and the ruin he +was bringing on his family. Morning, noon, and night her tongue was +incessantly going, and everything he said or did was sure to produce a +torrent of household eloquence. Rip had but one way of replying to all +lectures of the kind, and that, by frequent use, had grown into a habit. He +shrugged his shoulders, shook his head, cast up his eyes, but said nothing. +This, however, always provoked a fresh volley from his wife; so that he was +fain to draw off his forces, and take to the outside of the house--the only +side which, in truth, belongs to a henpecked husband. + +Rip's sole domestic adherent was his dog Wolf, who was as much henpecked as +his master; for Dame Van Winkle regarded them as companions in idleness, +and even looked upon Wolf with an evil eye, as the cause of his master's +going so often astray. True it is, in all points of spirit befitting an +honorable dog, he was as courageous an animal as ever scoured the +woods--but what courage can withstand the ever-during and all-besetting +terrors of a woman's tongue? The moment Wolf entered the house his crest +fell, his tail drooped to the ground, or curled between his legs, he +sneaked about with a gallows air, casting many a sidelong glance at Dame +Van Winkle, and at the least flourish of a broomstick or ladle he would fly +to the door with yelping precipitation. + +Times grew worse and worse with Rip Van Winkle as years of matrimony rolled +on; a tart temper never mellows with age, and a sharp tongue is the only +edged tool that grows keener with constant use. For a long while he used to +console himself, when driven from home, by frequenting a kind of perpetual +club of the sages, philosophers, and other idle personages of the village; +which held its sessions on a bench before a small inn, designated by a +rubicund portrait of His Majesty George the Third. Here they used to sit in +the shade through a long lazy summer's day, talking listlessly over village +gossip, or telling endless sleepy stories about nothing. But it would have +been worth any statesman's money to have heard the profound discussions +that sometimes took place, when by chance an old newspaper fell into their +hands from some passing traveler. How solemnly they would listen to the +contents, as drawled out by Derrick Van Bummel, the school-master, a dapper +learned little man, who was not to be daunted by the most gigantic word in +the dictionary; and how sagely they would deliberate upon public events +some months after they had taken place. + +The opinions of this junto were completely controlled by Nicholas Vedder, a +patriarch of the village, and landlord of the inn, at the door of which he +took his seat from morning till night, just moving sufficiently to avoid +the sun and keep in the shade of a large tree; so that the neighbors could +tell the hour by his movements as accurately as by a sun-dial. It is true +he was rarely heard to speak, but smoked his pipe incessantly. His +adherents, however (for every great man has his adherents), perfectly +understood him, and knew how to gather his opinions. When anything that was +read or related displeased him, he was observed to smoke his pipe +vehemently, and to send forth short, frequent and angry puffs; but when +pleased, he would inhale the smoke slowly and tranquilly, and emit it in +light and placid clouds; and sometimes, taking the pipe from his mouth, and +letting the fragrant vapor curl about his nose, would gravely nod his head +in token of perfect approbation. + +From even this stronghold the unlucky Rip was at length routed by his +termagant wife, who would suddenly break in upon the tranquillity of the +assemblage and call the members all to naught; nor was that august +personage, Nicholas Vedder himself, sacred from the daring tongue of this +terrible virago, who charged him outright with encouraging her husband in +habits of idleness. + +Poor Rip was at last reduced almost to despair; and his only alternative, +to escape from the labor of the farm and clamor of his wife, was to take +gun in hand and stroll away into the woods. Here he would sometimes seat +himself at the foot of a tree, and share the contents of his wallet with +Wolf, with whom he sympathized, as a fellow-sufferer in persecution. "Poor +Wolf," he would say, "thy mistress leads thee a dog's life of it; but never +mind, my lad, whilst I live thou shalt never want a friend to stand by +thee!" Wolf would wag his tail, look wistfully in his master's face, and if +dogs can feel pity I verily believe he reciprocated the sentiment with all +his heart. + +In a long ramble of the kind on a fine autumnal day, Rip had unconsciously +scrambled to one of the highest parts of the Kaatskill Mountains. He was +after his favorite sport of squirrel shooting, and the still solitudes had +echoed and re-echoed with the reports of his gun. Panting and fatigued, he +threw himself, late in the afternoon, on a green knoll, covered with +mountain herbage, that crowned the brow of a precipice. From an opening +between the trees he could overlook all the lower country for many a mile +of rich woodland. He saw at a distance the lordly Hudson, far, far below +him, moving on its silent but majestic course, with the reflection of a +purple cloud, or the sail of a lagging bark, here and there sleeping on its +glassy bosom, and at last losing itself in the blue highlands. + +On the other side he looked down into a deep mountain glen, wild, lonely, +and shagged, the bottom filled with fragments from the impending cliffs, +and scarcely lighted by the reflected rays of the setting sun. For some +time Rip lay musing on this scene; evening was gradually advancing; the +mountains began to throw their long blue shadows over the valleys; he saw +that it would be dark long before he could reach the village, and he heaved +a heavy sigh when he thought of encountering the terrors of Dame Van +Winkle. + +As he was about to descend, he heard a voice from a distance, hallooing, +"Rip Van Winkle! Rip Van Winkle!" He looked round, but could see nothing +but a crow winging its solitary flight across the mountain. He thought his +fancy must have deceived him, and turned again to descend, when he heard +the same cry ring through the still evening air: "Rip Van Winkle! Rip Van +Winkle!"--at the same time Wolf bristled up his back, and giving a low +growl, skulked to his master's side, looking fearfully down into the glen. +Rip now felt a vague apprehension stealing over him; he looked anxiously in +the same direction, and perceived a strange figure slowly toiling up the +rocks, and bending under the weight of something he carried on his back. He +was surprised to see any human being in this lonely and unfrequented place; +but supposing it to be some one of the neighborhood in need of assistance, +he hastened down to yield it. + +On nearer approach he was still more surprised at the singularity of the +stranger's appearance. He was a short, square-built old fellow, with thick +bushy hair, and a grizzled beard. His dress was of the antique Dutch +fashion: a cloth jerkin strapped round the waist, several pair of breeches, +the outer one of ample volume, decorated with rows of buttons down the +sides, and bunches at the knees. He bore on his shoulder a stout keg, that +seemed full of liquor, and made signs for Rip to approach and assist him +with the load. Though rather shy and distrustful of this new acquaintance, +Rip complied with his usual alacrity; and mutually relieving one another, +they clambered up a narrow gully, apparently the dry bed of a mountain +torrent. As they ascended, Rip every now and then heard long rolling peals +like distant thunder, that seemed to issue out of a deep ravine, or rather +cleft, between lofty rocks, toward which their rugged path conducted. He +paused for a moment, but supposing it to be the muttering of one of those +transient thunder-showers which often take place in mountain heights, he +proceeded. Passing through the ravine, they came to a hollow, like a small +amphitheatre, surrounded by perpendicular precipices, over the brinks of +which impending trees shot their branches, so that you only caught glimpses +of the azure sky and the bright evening cloud. During the whole time Rip +and his companion had labored on in silence; for though the former marveled +greatly what could be the object of carrying a keg of liquor up this wild +mountain, yet there was something strange and incomprehensible about the +unknown, that inspired awe and checked familiarity. + +On entering the amphitheatre, new objects of wonder presented themselves. +On a level spot in the centre was a company of odd-looking personages +playing at ninepins. They were dressed in a quaint outlandish fashion; some +wore short doublets, others jerkins, with long knives in their belts, and +most of them had enormous breeches of similar style with that of the +guide's. Their visages, too, were peculiar; one had a large beard, broad +face, and small piggish eyes; the face of another seemed to consist +entirely of nose, and was surmounted by a white sugar-loaf hat, set off +with a little red cock's tail. They all had beards, of various shapes and +colors. There was one who seemed to be the commander. He was a stout old +gentleman, with a weather-beaten countenance; he wore a laced doublet, +broad belt and hanger, high-crowned hat and feather, red stockings, and +high-heeled shoes, with roses in them. The whole group reminded Rip of the +figures in an old Flemish painting in the parlor of Dominie Van Shaick, the +village parson, which had been brought over from Holland at the time of the +settlement. + +What seemed particularly odd to Rip was, that though these folks were +evidently amusing themselves, yet they maintained the gravest faces, the +most mysterious silence, and were, withal, the most melancholy party of +pleasure he had ever witnessed. Nothing interrupted the stillness of the +scene but the noise of the balls, which, whenever they were rolled, echoed +along the mountains like rumbling peals of thunder. + +As Rip and his companion approached them, they suddenly desisted from their +play, and stared at him with such fixed, statue-like gaze, and such +strange, uncouth, lack-lustre countenances, that his heart turned within +him, and his knees smote together. His companion now emptied the contents +of the keg into large flagons, and made signs to him to wait upon the +company. He obeyed with fear and trembling; they quaffed the liquor in +profound silence, and then returned to their game. + +By degrees Rip's awe and apprehension subsided. He even ventured, when no +eye was fixed upon him, to taste the beverage, which he found had much of +the flavor of excellent Hollands. He was naturally a thirsty soul, and was +soon tempted to repeat the draught. One taste provoked another; and he +reiterated his visits to the flagon so often that at length his senses were +overpowered, his eyes swam in his head, his head gradually declined, and he +fell into a deep sleep. + +On waking, he found himself on the green knoll whence he had first seen the +old man of the glen. He rubbed his eyes--it was a bright, sunny morning. +The birds were hopping and twittering among the bushes, and the eagle was +wheeling aloft, and breasting the pure mountain breeze. "Surely," thought +Rip, "I have not slept here all night." He recalled the occurrences before +he fell asleep. The strange man with a keg of liquor--the mountain +ravine--the wild retreat among the rocks--the woe-begone party at +ninepins--the flagon--"Oh! that flagon! that wicked flagon!" thought +Rip--"what excuse shall I make to Dame Van Winkle?" + +He looked round for his gun, but in place of the clean, well-oiled +fowling-piece, he found an old firelock lying by him, the barrel incrusted +with rust, the lock falling off, and the stock worm-eaten. He now suspected +that the grave roisterers of the mountain had put a trick upon him, and, +having dosed him with liquor, had robbed him of his gun. Wolf, too, had +disappeared, but he might have strayed away after a squirrel or partridge. +He whistled after him, and shouted his name, but all in vain; the echoes +repeated his whistle and shout, but no dog was to be seen. + +He determined to revisit the scene of the last evening's gambol, and if he +met with any of the party, to demand his dog and gun. As he rose to walk, +he found himself stiff in the joints, and wanting in his usual activity. +"These mountain beds do not agree with me," thought Rip, "and if this +frolic should lay me up with a fit of the rheumatism, I shall have a +blessed time with Dame Van Winkle." With some difficulty he got down into +the glen; he found the gully up which he and his companion had ascended the +preceding evening; but to his astonishment a mountain stream was now +foaming down it, leaping from rock to rock, and filling the glen with +babbling murmurs. He, however, made shift to scramble up its sides, working +his toilsome way through thickets of birch, sassafras, and witchhazel, and +sometimes tripped up or entangled by the wild grapevines that twisted their +coils or tendrils from tree to tree, and spread a kind of network in his +path. + +At length he reached to where the ravine had opened through the cliffs to +the amphitheatre; but no traces of such opening remained. The rocks +presented a high, impenetrable wall, over which the torrent came tumbling +in a sheet of feathery foam, and fell into a broad, deep basin, black from +the shadows of the surrounding forest. Here, then, poor Rip was brought to +a stand. He again called and whistled after his dog; he was only answered +by the cawing of a flock of idle crows, sporting high in air about a dry +tree that overhung a sunny precipice; and who, secure in their elevation, +seemed to look down and scoff at the poor man's perplexities. What was to +be done? the morning was passing away, and Rip felt famished for want of +his breakfast. He grieved to give up his dog and gun; he dreaded to meet +his wife; but it would not do to starve among the mountains. He shook his +head, shouldered the rusty fire-lock, and, with a heart full of trouble and +anxiety, turned his steps homeward. + +As he approached the village he met a number of people, but none whom he +knew, which somewhat surprised him, for he had thought himself acquainted +with every one in the country round. Their dress, too, was of a different +fashion from that to which he was accustomed. They all stared at him with +equal marks of surprise, and whenever they cast their eyes upon him, +invariably stroked their chins. The constant recurrence of this gesture +induced Rip, involuntarily, to do the same, when, to his astonishment, he +found his beard had grown a foot long! + +He had now entered the skirts of the village. A troop of strange children +ran at his heels, hooting after him, and pointing at his gray beard. The +dogs, too, not one of which he recognized for an old acquaintance, barked +at him as he passed. The very village was altered; it was larger and more +populous. There were rows of houses which he had never seen before, and +those which had been his familiar haunts had disappeared. Strange names +were over the doors--strange faces at the windows,--everything was strange. +His mind now misgave him; he began to doubt whether both he and the world +around him were not bewitched. Surely this was his native village, which he +had left but the day before. There stood the Kaatskill Mountains--there ran +the silver Hudson at a distance--there was every hill and dale precisely as +it had always been--Rip was sorely perplexed--"That flagon last night," +thought he, "has addled my poor head sadly!" + +It was with some difficulty that he found the way to his own house, which +he approached with silent awe, expecting every moment to hear the shrill +voice of Dame Van Winkle. He found the house gone to decay--the roof fallen +in, the windows shattered, and the doors off the hinges. A half-starved dog +that looked like Wolf was skulking about it. Rip called him by name, but +the cur snarled, showed his teeth, and passed on. This was an unkind cut +indeed--"My very dog," sighed poor Rip, "has forgotten me!" + +He entered the house, which, to tell the truth, Dame Van Winkle had always +kept in neat order. It was empty, forlorn, and apparently abandoned. This +desolateness overcame all his connubial fears--he called loudly for his +wife and children--the lonely chambers rang for a moment with his voice, +and then again all was silence. + +He now hurried forth, and hastened to his old resort, the village inn--but +it, too, was gone. A large, rickety wooden building stood in its place, +with great gaping windows, some of them broken and mended with old hats and +petticoats, and over the door was painted, "The Union Hotel, by Jonathan +Doolittle." Instead of the great tree that used to shelter the quiet little +Dutch inn of yore, there now was reared a tall naked pole, with something +on the top that looked like a red night-cap, and from it was fluttering a +flag, on which was a singular assemblage of stars and stripes--all this was +strange and incomprehensible. He recognized on the sign, however, the ruby +face of King George, under which he had smoked so many a peaceful pipe; but +even this was singularly metamorphosed. The red coat was changed for one of +blue and buff, a sword was held in the hand instead of a sceptre, the head +was decorated with a cocked hat, and underneath was painted in large +characters, GENERAL WASHINGTON. + +There was, as usual, a crowd of folk about the door, but none that Rip +recollected. The very character of the people seemed changed. There was a +busy, bustling, disputatious tone about it, instead of the accustomed +phlegm and drowsy tranquillity. He looked in vain for the sage Nicholas +Vedder, with his broad face, double chin, and fair long pipe, uttering +clouds of tobacco-smoke instead of idle speeches; or Van Bummel, the +schoolmaster, doling forth the contents of an ancient newspaper. In place +of these, a lean bilious-looking fellow, with his pockets full of hand +bills, was haranguing vehemently about rights of +citizens--elections--members of congress--liberty--Bunker's Hill--heroes of +seventy-six--and other words, which were a perfect Babylonish jargon to the +bewildered Van Winkle. + +The appearance of Rip, with his long grizzled heard, his rusty +fowling-piece, his uncouth dress, and an army of women and children at his +heels, soon attracted the attention of the tavern-politicians. They crowded +round him, eying him from head to foot with great curiosity. The orator +bustled up to him, and, drawing him partly aside, inquired "on which side +he voted?" Rip stared in vacant stupidity. Another short but busy little +fellow pulled him by the arm, and, rising on tiptoe, inquired in his ear, +"Whether he was Federal or Democrat?" Rip was equally at a loss to +comprehend the question; when a knowing, self-important old gentleman, in a +sharp cocked hat, made his way through the crowd, putting them to the right +and left with his elbows as he passed, and planting himself before Van +Winkle, with one arm akimbo, the other resting on his cane, his keen eyes +and sharp hat penetrating, as it were, into his very soul, demanded in an +austere tone, "what brought him to the election with a gun on his shoulder +and a mob at his heels, and whether he meant to breed a riot in the +village?"--"Alas! gentlemen," cried Rip, somewhat dismayed, "I am a poor +quiet man, a native of the place, and a loyal subject of the king, God +bless him!" + +Here a general shout burst from the bystanders--"A tory! a tory! a spy! a +refugee! hustle him! away with him!" It was with great difficulty that the +self-important man in the cocked hat restored order; and, having assumed a +tenfold austerity of brow, demanded again of the unknown culprit what he +came there for, and whom he was seeking? The poor man humbly assured him +that he meant no harm, but merely came there in search of some of his +neighbors, who used to keep about the tavern. + +"Well--who are they?--name them." + +Rip bethought himself a moment, and inquired, "Where's Nicholas Vedder?" + +There was a silence for a little while, when an old man replied, in a thin, +piping voice: "Nicholas Vedder! why, he is dead and gone these eighteen +years! There was a wooden tombstone in the churchyard that used to tell all +about him, but that's rotten and gone too." + +"Where's Brom Dutcher?" + +"Oh, he went off to the army in the beginning of the war; some say he was +killed at the storming of Stony Point--others say he was drowned in a +squall at the foot of Antony's Nose. I don't know--he never came back +again." + +"Where's Van Bummel, the schoolmaster?" + +"He went off to the wars too, was a great militia general, and is now in +Congress." + +Rip's heart died away at hearing of these sad changes in his home and +friends, and finding himself thus alone in the world. Every answer puzzled +him too, by treating of such enormous lapses of time, and of matters which +he could not understand: war--Congress--Stony Point; he had no courage to +ask after any more friends, but cried out in despair, "Does nobody here +know Rip Van Winkle?" + +"Oh, Rip Van Winkle!" exclaimed two or three, "Oh, to be sure! that's Rip +Van Winkle yonder, leaning against the tree." + +Rip looked, and beheld a precise counterpart of himself, as he went up the +mountain: apparently as lazy, and certainly as ragged. The poor fellow was +now completely confounded. He doubted his own identity, and whether he was +himself or another man. In the midst of his bewilderment, the man in the +cocked hat demanded who he was, and what was his name? + +"God knows," exclaimed he, at his wit's end; "I'm not myself--I'm somebody +else--that's me yonder--no--that's somebody else got into my shoes--I was +myself last night, but I fell asleep on the mountain, and they've changed +my gun, and everything's changed, and I'm changed, and I can't tell what's +my name, or who I am!" + +The bystanders began now to look at each other, nod, wink significantly, +and tap their fingers against their foreheads. There was a whisper, also, +about securing the gun, and keeping the old fellow from doing mischief, at +the very suggestion of which the self-important man in the cocked hat +retired with some precipitation. At this critical moment a fresh, comely +woman pressed through the throng to get a peep at the gray-bearded man. She +had a chubby child in her arms, which, frightened at his looks, began to +cry. "Hush, Rip," cried she, "hush, you little fool; the old man won't hurt +you." The name of the child, the air of the mother, the tone of her voice, +all awakened a train of recollections in his mind. "What is your name, my +good woman?" asked he. + +"Judith Gardenier." + +"And your father's name?" + +"Ah, poor man, Rip Van Winkle was his name, but it's twenty years since he +went away from home with his gun, and never has been heard of since,--his +dog came home without him; but whether he shot himself, or was carried away +by the Indians, nobody can tell. I was then but a little girl." + +Rip had but one question more to ask; and he put it with a faltering +voice:-- + +"Where's your mother?" + +"Oh, she too had died but a short time since; she broke a blood-vessel in a +fit of passion at a New England peddler." + +There was a drop of comfort at least, in this intelligence. The honest man +could contain himself no longer. He caught his daughter and her child in +his arms. "I am your father!" cried he--"Young Rip Van Winkle once--old Rip +Van Winkle now! Does nobody know poor Rip Van Winkle?" + +All stood amazed, until an old woman, tottering out from among the crowd, +put her hand to her brow, and peering under it in his face for a moment, +exclaimed, "Sure enough, it is Rip Van Winkle--it is himself! Welcome home +again, old neighbor--Why, where have you been these twenty long years?" + +Rip's story was soon told, for the whole twenty years had been to him but +as one night. The neighbors stared when they heard it; some were seen to +wink at each other, and put their tongues in their cheeks; and the +self-important man in the cocked hat, who, when the alarm was over, had +returned to the field, screwed down the corners of his mouth and shook his +head--upon which there was a general shaking of the head throughout the +assemblage. + +It was determined, however, to take the opinion of old Peter Vanderdonk, +who was seen slowly advancing up the road. He was a descendant of the +historian of that name, who wrote one of the earliest accounts of the +province. Peter was the most ancient inhabitant of the village, and well +versed in all the wonderful events and traditions of the neighborhood. He +recollected Rip at once, and corroborated his story in the most +satisfactory manner. He assured the company that it was a fact, handed down +from his ancestor the historian, that the Kaatskill Mountains had always +been haunted by strange beings. That it was affirmed that the great +Hendrick Hudson, the first discoverer of the river and country, kept a kind +of vigil there every twenty years, with his crew of the Half-moon; being +permitted in this way to revisit the scenes of his enterprise, and keep a +guardian eye upon the river and the great city called by his name. That his +father had once seen them in their old Dutch dresses playing at ninepins in +a hollow of the mountain; and that he himself had heard, one summer +afternoon, the sound of their balls like distant peals of thunder. + +To make a long story short, the company broke up, and returned to the more +important concerns of the election. Rip's daughter took him home to live +with her; she had a snug well-furnished house, and a stout cheery farmer +for a husband, whom Rip recollected for one of the urchins that used to +climb upon his back. As to Rip's son and heir, who was the ditto of +himself, seen leaning against the tree, he was employed to work on the +farm; but evinced an hereditary disposition to attend to anything else but +his business. + +Rip now resumed his old walks and habits; he soon found many of his former +cronies, though all rather the worse for the wear and tear of time; and +preferred making friends among the rising generation, with whom he soon +grew into great favor. Having nothing to do at home, and being arrived at +that happy age when a man can be idle with impunity, he took his place once +more on the bench at the inn door, and was reverenced as one of the +patriarchs of the village, and a chronicle of the old times "before the +war." It was some time before he could get into the regular track of +gossip, or could be made to comprehend the strange events that had taken +place during his torpor. How that there had been a revolutionary war--that +the country had thrown off the yoke of old England--and that, instead of +being a subject of his Majesty George the Third, he was now a free citizen +of the United States. Rip, in fact, was no politician; the changes of +states and empires made but little impression on him; but there was one +species of despotism under which he had long groaned, and that +was--petticoat government. Happily that was at an end; he had got his neck +out of the yoke of matrimony, and could go in and out whenever he pleased, +without dreading the tyranny of Dame Van Winkle. Whenever her name was +mentioned, however, he shook his head, shrugged his shoulders, and cast up +his eyes, which might pass either for an expression of resignation to his +fate, or joy at his deliverance. + +He used to tell his story to every stranger that arrived at Mr. Doolittle's +hotel. He was observed, at first, to vary on some points every time he told +it, which was, doubtless, owing to his having so recently awaked. It at +last settled down precisely to the tale I have related, and not a man, +woman, or child in the neighborhood but knew it by heart. Some always +pretended to doubt the reality of it, and insisted that Rip had been out of +his head, and that this was one point on which he always remained flighty. +The old Dutch inhabitants, however, almost universally gave it full credit. +Even to this day they never hear a thunder-storm of a summer afternoon +about the Kaatskill, but they say Hendrick Hudson and his crew are at their +game of ninepins; and it is a common wish of all henpecked husbands in the +neighborhood, when life hangs heavy on their hands, that they might have a +quieting draught out of Rip Van Winkle's flagon. + + + +HELPS TO STUDY. + +The three stages of the story are: The sleep, the return, the recognition. +Through them all personal identity remains. + + +Notes and Questions. + +Rip Van Winkle--the man: his characteristics, habits, family. + +The place: the village, the inn, the surroundings, the times. + +The autumn ramble: the woods, the dog, the gun, the Hudson, the stranger, +the "ninepins" company, the flagon, the waking--the changed scenes. + +The afternoon of the day, the afternoon of the year (autumn), and the +afternoon of life (old man) are chosen by the author. + +What is the fitness in selecting a village near the mountains? Why choose a +village at all? + +Note the civic progress of the people--the change from a royal dependency +to an independent republic. + +Locate on the map the scene of this selection and tell the period in which +it occurred. Point out parts of the story that tell you when it happened. + +Select descriptions in this selection that are especially pleasing. + + +Words and Phrases, for Discussion + + "puzzled" + "peddler" + "self-important man" + "enormous" + "austere" + "vacant stupidity" + "fatigued" + "Tory" + "well-oiled disposition" + "grizzled" + "cocked hat" + "torrent of household eloquence" + "transient" + "ruby face" + "desolateness" + "gaping windows" + + * * * * * + + +THE VOYAGE + +From "The Sketch Book," by + +WASHINGTON IRVING + + Ships, ships, I will descrie you + Amidst the main, + I will come and try you, + What you are protecting, + And projecting, + What's your end and aim. + + One goes abroad for merchandise and trading. + Another stays to keep his country from invading, + A third is coming home with rich and wealthy lading. + Halloo! my fancie, whither wilt thou go? +--OLD POEM. + + +To an American visiting Europe, the long voyage he has to make is an +excellent preparative. The temporary absence of worldly scenes and +employments produces a state of mind peculiarly fitted to receive new and +vivid impressions. The vast space of waters that separates the hemispheres +is like a blank page in existence. There is no gradual transition, by +which, as in Europe, the features and population of one country blend +almost imperceptibly with those of another. From the moment you lose sight +of the land you have left, all is vacancy until you step on the opposite +shore, and are launched at once into the bustle and novelties of another +world. + +In traveling by land there is a continuity of scene and a connected +succession of persons and incidents, that carry on the story of life, and +lessen the effect of absence and separation. We drag, it is true, "a +lengthening chain," at each remove of our pilgrimage; but the chain is +unbroken: we can trace it back link by link; and we feel that the last +still grapples us to home. But a wide sea voyage severs us at once. It +makes us conscious of being cast loose from the secure anchorage of settled +life, and sent adrift upon a doubtful world. It interposes a gulf, not +merely imaginary, but real, between us and our homes--a gulf subject to +tempest, and fear, and uncertainty, rendering distance palpable, and return +precarious. + +Such, at least, was the case with myself. As I saw the last blue line of my +native land fade away like a cloud in the horizon, it seemed as if I had +closed one volume of the world and its concerns, and had time for +meditation, before I opened another. That land, too, now vanishing from my +view, which contained all most dear to me in life; what vicissitudes might +occur in it--what changes might take place in me, before I should visit it +again! Who can tell, when he sets forth to wander, whither he may be driven +by the uncertain currents of existence; or when he may return; or whether +it may ever be his lot to revisit the scenes of his childhood? + +I said that at sea all is vacancy; I should correct the expression. To one +given to day-dreaming, and fond of losing himself in reveries, a sea voyage +is full of subjects for meditation: but then they are the wonders of the +deep, and of the air, and rather tend to abstract the mind from worldly +themes. I delighted to loll over the quarter-railing, or climb to the +maintop, of a calm day, and muse for hours together on the tranquil bosom +of a summer's sea; to gaze upon the piles of golden clouds just peering +above the horizon, fancy them some fairy realms, and people them with, a +creation of my own;--to watch the gentle undulating billows, rolling their +silver volumes, as if to die away on those happy shores. + +There was a delicious sensation of mingled security and awe with which I +looked down from my giddy height, on the monsters of the deep at their +uncouth gambols. Shoals of porpoises tumbling about the bow of the ship, +the grampus slowly heaving his huge form above the surface; or the ravenous +shark, darting, like a spectre, through the blue waters. My imagination +would conjure up all that I had heard or read of the watery world beneath +me; of the finny herds that roam its fathomless valleys; of the shapeless +monsters that lurk among the very foundations of the earth; and of those +wild phantasms that swell the tales of fishermen and sailors. + +Sometimes a distant sail, gliding along the edge of the ocean, would be +another theme of idle speculation. How interesting this fragment of a +world, hastening to rejoin the great mass of existence! What a glorious +monument of human invention; which has in a manner triumphed over wind and +wave; has brought the ends of the world into communion; has established an +interchange of blessings, pouring into the sterile regions of the north all +the luxuries of the south; has diffused the light of knowledge and the +charities of cultivated life; and has thus bound together those scattered +portions of the human race, between which nature seemed to have thrown an +insurmountable barrier. + +We one day descried some shapeless object drifting at a distance. At sea, +everything that breaks the monotony of the surrounding expanse attracts +attention. It proved to be the mast of a ship that must have been +completely wrecked; for there were the remains of handkerchiefs, by which +some of the crew had fastened themselves to this spar, to prevent their +being washed off by the waves. There was no trace by which the name of the +ship could be ascertained. The wreck had evidently drifted about for many +months; clusters of shell-fish had fastened about it, and long sea-weeds +flaunted at its sides! But where, thought I, is the crew? Their struggle +has long been over--they have gone down amidst the roar of the +tempest--their bones lie whitening among the caverns of the deep. Silence, +oblivion, like the waves, have closed over them, and no one can tell the +story of their end. What sighs have been wafted after that ship! what +prayers offered up at the deserted fireside of home! How often has the +mistress, the wife, the mother, pored over the daily news, to catch some +casual intelligence of this rover of the deep! How has expectation darkened +into anxiety--anxiety into dread--and dread into despair! Alas! not one +memento may ever return for love to cherish. All that may ever be known, +is, that she sailed from her port, "and was never heard of more!" + +The sight of this wreck, as usual, gave rise to many dismal anecdotes. This +was particularly the case in the evening, when the weather, which had +hitherto been fair, began to look wild and threatening, and gave +indications of one of those sudden storms which will sometimes break in +upon the serenity of a summer voyage. As we sat round the dull light of a +lamp in the cabin, that made the gloom more ghastly, every one had his tale +of shipwreck and disaster. I was particularly struck with a short one +related by the captain. + +"As I was once sailing," said he, "in a fine stout ship across the banks of +Newfoundland, one of those heavy fogs which prevail in those parts rendered +it impossible for us to see far ahead even in the daytime; but at night the +weather was so thick that we could not distinguish any object at twice the +length of the ship. I kept lights at the mast-head, and a constant watch +forward to look out for fishing smacks, which are accustomed to lie at +anchor on the banks. The wind was blowing a smacking breeze, and we were +going at a great fate through the water. Suddenly the watch gave the alarm +of 'a sail ahead!'--it was scarcely uttered before we were upon her. She +was a small schooner, at anchor, with her broadside towards us. The crew +were all asleep, and had neglected to hoist a light. We struck her just +amidships. The force, the size, the weight of our vessel bore her down +below the waves; we passed over her and were hurried on our course. As the +crashing wreck was sinking beneath us, I had a glimpse of two or three +half-naked wretches rushing from her cabin; they just started from their +beds to be swallowed shrieking by the waves. I heard their drowning cry +mingling with the wind. The blast that bore it to our ears swept us out of +all farther hearing. I shall never forget that cry! It was some time before +we could put the ship about, she was under such headway. We returned, as +nearly as we could guess, to the place where the smack had anchored. We +cruised about for several hours in the dense fog. We fired signal guns, and +listened if we might hear the halloo of any survivors: but all was +silent--we never saw or heard anything of them more." + +I confess these stories, for a time, put an end to all my fine fancies. The +storm increased with the night. The sea was lashed into tremendous +confusion. There was a fearful, sullen sound of rushing waves, and broken +surges. Deep called unto deep. At times the black column of clouds overhead +seemed rent asunder by flashes of lightning which quivered along the +foaming billows, and made the succeeding darkness doubly terrible. The +thunders bellowed over the wild waste of waters, and were echoed and +prolonged by the mountain waves. As I saw the ship staggering and plunging +among these roaring caverns, it seemed miraculous that she regained her +balance, or preserved her buoyancy. Her yards would dip into the water: her +bow was almost buried beneath the waves. Sometimes an impending surge +appeared ready to overwhelm her, and nothing but a dexterous movement of +the helm preserved her from the shock. + +When I retired to my cabin, the awful scene still followed me. The +whistling of the wind through the rigging sounded like funereal wailings. +The creaking of the masts, the straining and groaning of bulk-heads, as the +ship labored in the weltering sea, were frightful. As I heard the waves +rushing along the sides of the ship, and roaring in my very ear, it seemed +as if Death were raging round this floating prison, seeking for his prey: +the mere starting of a nail, the yawning of a seam, might give him +entrance. + +A fine day, however, with a tranquil sea and favoring breeze, soon put all +these dismal reflections to flight. It is impossible to resist the +gladdening influence of fine weather and fair wind at sea. When the ship is +decked out in all her canvas, every sail swelled, and careering gayly over +the curling waves, how lofty, how gallant she appears--how she seems to +lord it over the deep! + +I might fill a volume with the reveries of a sea voyage, for with me it is +almost a continual reverie--but it is time to get to shore. + +It was a fine sunny morning when the thrilling cry of "land!" was given +from the mast-head. None but those who have experienced it can form an idea +of the delicious throng of sensations which rush into an American's bosom, +when he first comes in sight of Europe. There is a volume of associations +with the very name. It is the land of promise, teeming with every thing of +which his childhood has heard, or on which his studious years have +pondered. + +From that time until the moment of arrival, it was all feverish excitement. +The ships of war, that prowled like guardian giants along the coast; the +headlands of Ireland, stretching out into the channel; the Welsh mountains, +towering into the clouds; all were objects of intense interest. As we +sailed up the Mersey I reconnoitred the shores with a telescope. My eye +dwelt with delight on neat cottages, with their trim shrubberies and green +grass plots. I saw the mouldering ruin of an abbey overrun with ivy, and +the taper spire of a village church rising from the brow of a neighboring +hill--all were characteristic of England. + +The tide and wind were so favorable that the ship was enabled to come at +once to the pier. It was thronged with people; some, idle lookers-on, +others, eager expectants of friends or relatives. I could distinguish the +merchant to whom the ship was consigned. I knew him by his calculating brow +and restless air. His hands were thrust into his pockets; he was whistling +thoughtfully, and walking to and fro, a small space having been accorded +him by the crowd, in deference to his temporary importance. There were +repeated cheerings and salutations interchanged between the shore and the +ship, as friends happened to recognize each other. I particularly noticed +one young woman of humble dress, but interesting demeanor. She was leaning +forward from among the crowd; her eye hurried over the ship as it neared +the shore, to catch some wished-for countenance. She seemed disappointed +and agitated; when I heard a faint voice call her name. It was from a poor +sailor who had been ill all the voyage, and had excited the sympathy of +every one on board. When the weather was fine, his messmates had spread a +mattress for him on deck in the shade, but of late his illness had so +increased that he had taken to his hammock, and only breathed a wish that +he might see his wife before he died. He had been helped on deck as we came +up the river, and was now leaning against the shrouds, with a countenance +so wasted, so pale, so ghastly, that it was no wonder even the eye of +affection did not recognize him. But at the sound of his voice, her eye +darted on his features; it read, at once, a whole volume of sorrow; she +clasped her hands, uttered a faint shriek, and stood wringing them in +silent agony. + +All now was hurry and bustle. The meetings of acquaintances--the greetings +of friends--the consultations of men of business. I alone was solitary and +idle. I had no friend to meet, no cheering to receive. I stepped upon the +land of my forefathers--but felt that I was a stranger in the land. + + +HELPS TO STUDY. + +Notes and Questions. + +Why did the author realize so clearly the extent of the journey he had +undertaken? + +How many days do you think Irving was on the ocean? + +What change has taken place in the method of ocean travel since he made +this voyage? + +Find words and lines which tell you the kind of vessel in which he crossed +the ocean. + +Had Irving greater opportunity for observing "the monsters of the deep" +than is afforded people crossing the ocean at the present day? Why do you +think so? + +What does Irving say is a "glorious monument of human invention"? + +Name some inventions which seem to you more worthy of this designation. + +Find the paragraph which describes the mast of a ship that was wrecked. + +How does this description compare with his description of the "monsters of +the deep"? + +Which description in this selection do you like best? Why? + +What do you think of Irving's powers of description? + +What does this sketch tell you of Irving's own character? + + +Words and Phrases for Discussion. + + "undulating billows" + "idle speculation" + "reconnoitred" + "delicious sensation" + "dread" + "abbey" + "wild phantasms" + "despair" + "anxiety" + "monument of human invention" + "prowled like guardian giants" + "light of knowledge" + "insurmountable barrier" + "dismal anecdotes" + + * * * * * + + +NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE + +The ancestors of Hawthorne, unlike those of most of the New England +writers, were not of the clergy, but were seamen, soldiers, and +magistrates. Concerning one of these, a judge who dealt harshly with the +Salem witches, Hawthorne writes: "I take shame upon myself for their sakes +and yet strong traits of their nature have intertwined themselves with +mine." Hawthorne was born in Salem, Massachusetts, July 4, 1804, and when +only four years old lost his father, a sea captain. + +The happiest years of his boyhood were spent at his uncle's home in the +forests of Maine. Here he loved to wander through the woods, afterwards +recording carefully his observations. His early education was rather +irregular; however, for a time he had for schoolmaster, Worcester, the +author of the dictionary. At Bowdoin college his studies were largely +literary. His life at college is chiefly remarkable for the friendships +formed there. Both Franklin Pierce, who later became president of the +United States, and Longfellow, the poet, were members of his class. + +After graduation in 1825, while Longfellow was traveling in many lands and +yielding himself to the charm of mediaeval history and legend, Hawthorne +drifted into a strange mode of life, virtually disappearing from the world +for a dozen years and living in actual solitude. "I have made a captive of +myself," he wrote to Longfellow, "and put me into a dungeon; and now I +cannot find the key to let myself out." But the key was found. The +appreciation of Elizabeth and Sophia Peabody and the deep affection for the +latter acted as a spur to get him into active life. At thirty-eight he +married Sophia Peabody and took up courageously enough a life of poverty +and hard literary work at Concord in the Old Manse, which had formerly been +Emerson's home. There he came to know and value the friendship of Emerson, +who we may well believe was the inspiration of the allegory of the Great +Stone Face. + +In curious contradiction with his natural love for solitude, Hawthorne +became interested in the experiment of communal life and spent the year +before his marriage at Brook Farm, where a number of literary men tried to +live simply and happily by combining intellectual and manual work. + +During the years of his solitude he wrote incessantly and composed many of +those sketches of the fancy which won for him his peculiar place in +literature. Many of these sketches appeared in the collection "Twice Told +Tales." For children he has written the little stories and biographies of +"Grandfather's Chair" and the story of Greek and Roman Myths in his +"Wonder-Book" and "Tanglewood Tales." Sin and the effect of guilt upon +human conduct are the problems in his great romances. + +Many of our literary men have held public positions, sometimes to help out +the meager financial returns of literary work, but more often because they +would bring honor to these positions. Hawthorne successively filled the +offices of weigher and gauger in the Boston Custom House, collector of +customs at Salem, and American consul at Liverpool, having been appointed +as consul by his old friend President Pierce. After four years' residence +in England he resigned his consulship and spent several years in travel on +the continent, spending two winters in Rome. Here he conceived his "Marble +Faun," which, though given an Italian setting, embodies the same problem of +conscience that we find in his earlier "Scarlet Letter." + +In June, 1860, he returned to America. He was deeply agitated by the Civil +War, the more so because his sympathies were not entirely with his Northern +friends. In May, 1864, his old friend General Pierce suggested that they +make a journey to the scenes of their college days. On their way they +stopped at Plymouth, New Hampshire, and there, early on the morning of the +nineteenth, he passed quietly away. + + * * * * * + + + +THE GREAT STONE FACE + +NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE + +One afternoon, when the sun was going down, a mother and her little boy sat +at the door of their cottage, talking about the Great Stone Face. They had +but to lift their eyes, and there it was plainly to be seen, though miles +away, with the sunshine brightening all its features. + +And what was the Great Stone Face? + +Embosomed amongst a family of lofty mountains, there was a valley so +spacious that it contained many thousand inhabitants. Some of these good +people dwelt in log-huts, with the black forest all around them, on the +steep and difficult hillsides. Others had their homes in comfortable +farm-houses, and cultivated the rich soil on the gentle slopes or level +surfaces of the valley. Others, again, were congregated into populous +villages, where some wild, highland rivulet, tumbling down from its +birthplace in the upper mountain region, had been caught and tamed by human +cunning, and compelled to turn the machinery of cotton-factories. The +inhabitants of this valley, in short, were numerous, and of many modes of +life. But all of them, grown people and children, had a kind of familiarity +with the Great Stone Face, although some possessed the gift of +distinguishing this grand natural phenomenon more perfectly than many of +their neighbors. + +The Great Stone Face, then, was a work of Nature in her mood of majestic +playfulness, formed on the perpendicular side of a mountain by some immense +rocks, which had been thrown together in such a position as, when viewed at +a proper distance, precisely to resemble the features of the human +countenance. It seemed as if an enormous giant, or a Titan, had sculptured +his own likeness on the precipice. There was the broad arch of the +forehead, a hundred feet in height; the nose, with its long bridge; and the +vast lips, which, if they could have spoken, would have rolled their +thunder accents from one end of the valley to the other. True it is, that +if the spectator approached too near, he lost the outline of the gigantic +visage, and could discern only a heap of ponderous and gigantic rocks, +piled in chaotic ruin one upon another. Retracing his steps, however, the +wondrous features would again be seen; and the farther he withdrew from +them, the more like a human face, with all its original divinity intact, +did they appear; until, as it grew dim in the distance, with the clouds and +glorified vapor of the mountains clustering about it, the Great Stone Face +seemed positively to be alive. + +It was a happy lot for children to grow up to manhood or womanhood with the +Great Stone Face before their eyes, for all the features were noble, and +the expression was at once grand and sweet, as if it were the glow of a +vast, warm heart, that embraced all mankind in its affections, and had room +for more. It was an education only to look at it. According to the belief +of many people, the valley owed much of its fertility to this benign aspect +that was continually beaming over it, illuminating the clouds, and infusing +its tenderness into the sunshine. + +As we began with saying, a mother and her little boy sat at their +cottage-door, gazing at the Great Stone Face, and talking about it. The +child's name was Ernest. + +"Mother," said he, while the Titanic visage smiled on him, "I wish that it +could speak, for it looks so very kindly that its voice must needs be +pleasant. If I were to see a man with such a face, I should love him +dearly." + +"If an old prophecy should come to pass," answered his mother, "we may see +a man, some time or other, with exactly such a face as that." + +"What prophecy do you mean, dear mother?" eagerly inquired Ernest. "Pray +tell me all about it!" + +So his mother told him a story that her own mother had told to her, when +she herself was younger than little Ernest; a story, not of things that +were past, but of what was yet to come; a story, nevertheless, so very old, +that even the Indians, who formerly inhabited this valley, had heard it +from their forefathers, to whom, as they affirmed, it had been murmured by +the mountain streams, and whispered by the wind among the tree-tops. The +purport was, that, at some future day, a child should be born hereabouts, +who was destined to become the greatest and noblest personage of his time, +and whose countenance, in manhood, should bear an exact resemblance to the +Great Stone Face. Not a few old-fashioned people, and young ones likewise, +in the ardor of their hopes, still cherished an enduring faith in this old +prophecy. But others, who had seen more of the world, had watched and +waited till they were weary, and had beheld no man with such a face, nor +any man that proved to be much greater or nobler than his neighbors, +concluded it to be nothing but an idle tale. At all events, the great man +of the prophecy had not yet appeared. + +"O mother, dear mother!" cried Ernest, clapping his hands above his head, +"I do hope that I shall live to see him!" + +His mother was an affectionate and thoughtful woman, and felt that it was +wisest not to discourage the generous hopes of her little boy. So she only +said to him, "Perhaps you may." + +And Ernest never forgot the story that his mother told him. It was always +in his mind, whenever he looked upon the Great Stone Face. He spent his +childhood in the log-cottage where he was born, and was dutiful to his +mother, and helpful to her in many things, assisting her much with his +little hands, and more with his loving heart. In this manner, from a happy +yet often pensive child, he grew up to be a mild, quiet, unobtrusive boy, +and sun-browned with labor in the fields, but with more intelligence +brightening his aspect than is seen in many lads who have been taught at +famous schools. Yet Ernest had had no teacher, save only that the Great +Stone Face became one to him. When the toil of the day was over, he would +gaze at it for hours, until he began to imagine that those vast features +recognized him, and gave him a smile of kindness and encouragement, +responsive to his own look of veneration. We must not take upon us to +affirm that this was a mistake, although the Face may have looked no more +kindly at Ernest than at all the world besides. But the secret was that the +boy's tender and confiding simplicity discerned what other people could not +see; and thus the love, which was meant for all, became his peculiar +portion. + +About this time there went a rumor throughout the valley, that the great +man, foretold from ages long ago, who was to bear a resemblance to the +Great Stone Face, had appeared at last. It seems that, many years before, a +young man had migrated from the valley and settled at a distant seaport, +where, after getting together a little money, he had set up as a +shopkeeper. His name--but I could never learn whether it was his real one, +or a nickname that had grown out of his habits and success in life--was +Gathergold. Being shrewd and active, and endowed by Providence with that +inscrutable faculty which develops itself in what the world calls luck, he +became an exceedingly rich merchant, and owner of a whole fleet of +bulky-bottomed ships. All the countries of the globe appeared to join hands +for the mere purpose of adding heap after heap to the mountainous +accumulation of this one man's wealth. The cold regions of the north, +almost within the gloom and shadow of the Arctic Circle, sent him their +tribute in the shape of furs; hot Africa sifted for him the golden sands of +her rivers, and gathered up the ivory tusks of her great elephants out of +the forests; the East came bringing him the rich shawls, and spices, and +teas, and the effulgence of diamonds, and the gleaming purity of large +pearls. The ocean, not to be behindhand with the earth, yielded up her +mighty whales, that Mr. Gathergold might sell their oil, and make a profit +on it. Be the original commodity what it might, it was gold within his +grasp. It might be said of him, as of Midas in the fable, that whatever he +touched with his finger immediately glistened, and grew yellow, and was +changed at once into sterling metal, or, which suited him still better, +into piles of coin. And, when Mr. Gathergold had become so very rich that +it would have taken him a hundred years only to count his wealth, he +bethought himself of his native valley, and resolved to go back thither, +and end his days where he was born. With this purpose in view, he sent a +skilful architect to build him such a palace as should be fit for a man of +his vast wealth to live in. + +As I have said above, it had already been rumored in the valley that Mr. +Gathergold had turned out to be the prophetic personage so long and vainly +looked for, and that his visage was the perfect and undeniable similitude +of the Great Stone Face. People were the more ready to believe that this +must needs be the fact, when they beheld the splendid edifice that rose, as +if by enchantment, on the site of his father's old weather-beaten +farm-house. The exterior was of marble, so dazzlingly white that it seemed +as though the whole structure might melt away in the sunshine, like those +humbler ones which Mr. Gathergold, in his young play-days, before his +fingers were gifted with the touch of transmutation, had been accustomed to +build of snow. It had a richly ornamented portico, supported by tall +pillars, beneath which was a lofty door, studded with silver knobs, and +made of a kind of variegated wood that had been brought from beyond the +sea. The windows, from the floor to the ceiling of each stately apartment, +were composed, respectively, of but one enormous pane of glass, so +transparently pure that it was said to be a finer medium than even the +vacant atmosphere. Hardly anybody had been permitted to see the interior of +this palace; but it was reported, and with good semblance of truth, to be +far more gorgeous than the outside, insomuch that whatever was iron or +brass in other houses was silver or gold in this; and Mr. Gathergold's +bedchamber, especially, made such a glittering appearance that no ordinary +man would have been able to close his eyes there. But, on the other hand, +Mr. Gathergold was now so inured to wealth, that perhaps he could not have +closed his eyes unless where the gleam of it was certain to find its way +beneath his eyelids. + +In due time, the mansion was finished; next came the upholsterers, with +magnificent furniture; then, a whole troop of black and white servants, the +harbingers of Mr. Gathergold, who, in his own majestic person, was expected +to arrive at sunset. Our friend Ernest, meanwhile, had been deeply stirred +by the idea that the great man, the noble man, the man of prophecy, after +so many ages of delay, was at length to be made manifest to his native +valley. He knew, boy as he was, that there were a thousand ways in which +Mr. Gathergold, with his vast wealth, might transform himself into an angel +of beneficence, and assume a control over human affairs as wide and +benignant as the smile of the Great Stone Face. Full of faith and hope, +Ernest doubted not that what the people said was true, and that now he was +to behold the living likeness of those wondrous features on the +mountain-side. While the boy was still gazing up the valley, and fancying, +as he always did, that the Great Stone Face returned his gaze and looked +kindly at him, the rumbling of wheels was heard, approaching swiftly along +the winding road. + +"Here he comes!" cried a group of people who were assembled to witness the +arrival. "Here comes the great Mr. Gathergold!" A carriage, drawn by four +horses, dashed round the turn of the road. Within it, thrust partly out of +the window, appeared the physiognomy of the old man, with a skin as yellow +as if his own Midas-hand had transmuted it. He had a low forehead, small, +sharp eyes, puckered about with innumerable wrinkles, and very thin lips, +which he made still thinner by pressing them forcibly together. + +"The very image of the Great Stone Face!" shouted the people. "Sure enough, +the old prophecy is true; and here we have the great man come, at last!" + +And, what greatly perplexed Ernest, they seemed actually to believe that +here was the likeness which they spoke of. By the roadside there chanced to +be an old beggar-woman and two little beggar-children, stragglers from some +far-off region, who, as the carriage rolled onward, held out their hands +and lifted up their doleful voices, most piteously beseeching charity. A +yellow claw--the very same that had clawed together so much wealth--poked +itself out of the coach-window, and dropt some copper coins upon the +ground; so that, though the great man's name seems to have been Gathergold, +he might just as suitably have been nicknamed Scattercopper. Still, +nevertheless, with an earnest shout, and evidently with as much good faith +as ever, the people bellowed,-- + +"He is the very image of the Great Stone Pace!" + +But Ernest turned sadly from the wrinkled shrewdness of that sordid visage, +and gazed up the valley, where, amid a gathering mist, gilded by the last +sun beams, he could still distinguish those glorious features which had +impressed themselves into his soul. Their aspect cheered him. What did the +benign lips seem to say? + +"He will come! Fear not, Ernest; the man will come!" + +The years went on, and Ernest ceased to be a boy. He had grown, to be a +young man now. He attracted little notice from the other inhabitants of the +valley; for they saw nothing remarkable in his way of life, save that, when +the labor of the day was over, he still loved to go apart and gaze and +meditate upon the Great Stone Face. According to their idea of the matter, +it was a folly, indeed, but pardonable, inasmuch as Ernest was industrious, +kind, and neighborly, and neglected no duty for the sake of indulging this +idle habit. They knew not that the Great Stone Face had become a teacher to +him, and that the sentiment which was expressed in it would enlarge the +young man's heart, and fill it with wider and deeper sympathies than other +hearts. They knew not that thence would come a better wisdom than could be +learned from books, and a better life than could be moulded on the defaced +example of other human lives. Neither did Ernest know that the thoughts and +affections which came to him so naturally, in the fields and at the +fireside, and wherever he communed with himself, were of a higher tone than +those which all men shared with him. A simple soul,--simple as when his +mother first taught him the old prophecy,--he beheld the marvelous features +beaming adown the valley, and still wondered that their human counterpart +was so long in making his appearance. + +By this time poor Mr. Gathergold was dead and buried; and the oddest part +of the matter was, that his wealth, which was the body and spirit of his +existence, had disappeared before his death, leaving nothing of him but a +living skeleton, covered over with a wrinkled, yellow skin. Since the +melting away of his gold, it had been very generally conceded that there +was no such striking resemblance, after all, betwixt the ignoble features +of the ruined merchant and that majestic face upon the mountainside. So the +people ceased to honor him during his lifetime, and quietly consigned him +to forgetfulness after his decease. Once in a while, it is true, his memory +was brought up in connection with the magnificent palace which he had +built, and which had long ago been turned into a hotel for the +accommodation of strangers, multitudes of whom came, every summer, to visit +that famous natural curiosity, the Great Stone Face. Thus, Mr. Gathergold +being discredited and thrown into the shade, the man of prophecy was yet to +come. + +It so happened that a native-born son of the valley, many years before, had +enlisted as a soldier, and, after a great deal of hard fighting, had now +become an illustrious commander. Whatever he may be called in history, he +was known in camps and on the battle-field under the nickname of Old +Blood-and-Thunder. This war-worn veteran, being now infirm with age and +wounds, and weary of the turmoil of a military life, and of the roll of the +drum and the clangor of the trumpet, that had so long been ringing in his +ears, had lately signified a purpose of returning to his native valley, +hoping to find repose where he remembered to have left it. The inhabitants, +his old neighbors and their grown-up children, were resolved to welcome the +renowned warrior with a salute of cannon and a public dinner; and all the +more enthusiastically, it being affirmed that now, at last, the likeness of +the Great Stone Face had actually appeared. An aid-de-camp of Old +Blood-and-Thunder, traveling through the valley, was said to have been +struck with the resemblance. Moreover the schoolmates and early +acquaintances of the general were ready to testify, on oath, that, to the +best of their recollection, the aforesaid general had been exceedingly like +the majestic image, even when a boy, only that the idea had never occurred +to them at that period. Great, therefore, was the excitement throughout the +valley; and many people, who had never once thought of glancing at the +Great Stone Face for years before, now spent their time in gazing at it, +for the sake of knowing exactly how General Blood-and-Thunder looked. + +On the day of the great festival, Ernest, with all the other people of the +valley, left their work, and proceeded to the spot where the sylvan banquet +was prepared. As he approached, the loud voice of the Rev. Dr. Battleblast +was heard, beseeching a blessing on the good things set before them, and on +the distinguished friend of peace in whose honor they were assembled. The +tables were arranged in a cleared space of the woods, shut in by the +surrounding trees, except where a vista opened eastward, and afforded a +distant view of the Great Stone Face. Over the general's chair, which was a +relic from the home of Washington, there was an arch of verdant boughs, +with the laurel profusely intermixed, and surmounted by his country's +banner, beneath which he had won his victories. Our friend Ernest raised +himself on his tiptoes, in hopes to get a glimpse of the celebrated guest; +but there was a mighty crowd about the tables anxious to hear the toasts +and speeches, and to catch any word that might fall from the general in +reply; and a volunteer company, doing duty as a guard, pricked ruthlessly +with their bayonets at any particularly quiet person among the throng. So +Ernest, being of an unobtrusive character, was thrust quite into the +background, where he could see no more of Old Blood-and-Thunder's +physiognomy than if it had been still blazing on the battle-field. To +console himself, he turned towards the Great Stone Face, which, like a +faithful and long-remembered friend, looked back and smiled upon him +through the vista of the forest. Meanwhile, however, he could overhear the +remarks of various individuals, who were comparing the features of the hero +with the face on the distant mountain-side. + +"'Tis the same face, to a hair!" cried one man, cutting a caper for joy. + +"Wonderfully like, that's a fact!" responded another. + +"Like! why, I call it Old Blood-and-Thunder himself, in a monstrous +looking-glass!" cried a third. "And why not? He's the greatest man of this +or any other age, beyond a doubt." + +And then all three of the speakers gave a great shout, which communicated +electricity to the crowd, and called forth a roar from a thousand voices, +that went reverberating for miles among the mountains, until you might have +supposed that the Great Stone Face had poured its thunder-breath into the +cry. All these comments, and this vast enthusiasm, served the more to +interest our friend; nor did he think of questioning that now, at length, +the mountain-visage had found its human counterpart. It is true, Ernest had +imagined that this long-looked-for personage would appear in the character +of a man of peace, uttering wisdom, and doing good, and making people +happy. But, taking an habitual breadth of view, with all his simplicity, he +contended that Providence should choose its own method of blessing mankind, +and could conceive that this great end might be effected even by a warrior +and a bloody sword, should inscrutable wisdom see fit to order matters so. + +"The general! the general!" was now the cry. "Hush! silence! Old +Blood-and-Thunder's going to make a speech." + +Even so; for, the cloth being removed, the general's health had been drunk, +amid shouts of applause, and he now stood upon his feet to thank the +company. Ernest saw him. There he was, over the shoulders of the crowd, +from the two glittering epaulets and embroidered collar upward, beneath the +arch of green boughs with intertwined laurel, and the banner drooping as if +to shade his brow! And there, too, visible in the same glance, through the +vista of the forest, appeared the Great Stone Face! And was there, indeed, +such a resemblance as the crowd had testified? Alas, Ernest could not +recognize it! He beheld a war-worn and weather-beaten countenance, full of +energy, and expressive of an iron will; but the gentle wisdom, the deep, +broad, tender sympathies, were altogether wanting in Old +Blood-and-Thunder's visage; and even if the Great Stone Face had assumed +his look of stern command, the milder traits would still have tempered it. + +"This is not the man of prophecy," sighed Ernest to himself, as he made his +way out of the throng. "And must the world wait longer yet?" + +The mists had congregated about the distant mountain-side, and there were +seen the grand and awful features of the Great Stone Face, awful but +benignant, as if a mighty angel were sitting among the hills, and enrobing +himself in a cloud-vesture of gold and purple. As he looked, Ernest could +hardly believe but that a smile beamed over the whole visage, with a +radiance still brightening, although without motion of the lips. It was +probably the effect of the western sunshine, melting through the thinly +diffused vapors that had swept between him and the object that he gazed at. +But--as it always did--the aspect of his marvelous friend made Ernest as +hopeful as if he had never hoped in vain. + +"Fear not, Ernest," said his heart, even as if the Great Face were +whispering him,--"fear not, Ernest; he will come." More years sped swiftly +and tranquilly away. Ernest still dwelt in his native valley, and was now a +man of middle age. By imperceptible degrees, he had become known among the +people. Now, as heretofore, he labored for his bread, and was the same +simple-hearted man that he had always been. But he had thought and felt so +much, he had given so many of the best hours of his life to unworldly hopes +for some great good to mankind, that it seemed as though he had been +talking with the angels, and had imbibed a portion of their wisdom +unawares. It was visible in the calm and well-considered beneficence of his +daily life, the quiet stream of which had made a wide green margin all +along its course. Not a day passed by, that the world was not the better +because this man, humble as he was, had lived. He never stepped aside from +his own path, yet would always reach a blessing to his neighbor. Almost +involuntarily, too, he had become a preacher. The pure and high simplicity +of his thought, which, as one of its manifestations, took shape in the good +deeds that dropped silently from his hand, flowed also forth in speech. He +uttered truths that wrought upon and moulded the lives of those who heard +him. His auditors, it may be, never suspected that Ernest, their own +neighbor and familiar friend, was more than an ordinary man; least of all +did Ernest himself suspect it; but, inevitably as the murmur of a rivulet, +came thoughts out of his mouth that no other human lips had spoken. + +When the people's minds had had a little time to cool, they were ready +enough to acknowledge their mistake in imagining a similarity between +General Blood-and-Thunder's truculent physiognomy and the benign visage on +the mountain-side. But now, again, there were reports and many paragraphs +in the newspapers, affirming that the likeness of the Great Stone Face had +appeared upon the broad shoulders of a certain eminent statesman. He, like +Mr. Gathergold and Old Blood-and-Thunder, was a native of the valley, but +had left it in his early days, and taken up the trades of law and politics. +Instead of the rich man's wealth and the warrior's sword, he had but a +tongue, and it was mightier than both together. So wonderfully eloquent was +he, that whatever he might choose to say, his auditors had no choice but to +believe him; wrong looked like right, and right like wrong; for when it +pleased him, he could make a kind of illuminated fog with his mere breath, +and obscure the natural daylight with it. His tongue, indeed, was a magic +instrument: sometimes it rumbled like the thunder; sometimes it warbled +like the sweetest music. It was the blast of war,--the song of peace; and +it seemed to have a heart in it, when there was no such matter. In good +truth, he was a wondrous man; and when his tongue had acquired him all +other imaginable success,--when it had been heard in halls of state, and in +the courts of princes and potentates,--after it had made him known all over +the world, even as a voice crying from shore to shore,--it finally +persuaded his countrymen to select him for the Presidency. Before this +time,--indeed, as soon as he began to grow celebrated,--his admirers had +found out the resemblance between him and the Great Stone Face; and so much +were they struck by it, that throughout the country this distinguished +gentleman was known by the name of Old Stony Phiz. The phrase was +considered as giving a highly favorable aspect to his political prospects; +for, as is likewise the case with the Popedom, nobody ever becomes +President without taking a name other than his own. + +While his friends were doing their best to make him President, Old Stony +Phiz, as he was called, set out on a visit to the valley where he was born. +Of course, he had no other object than to shake hands with his fellow +citizens, and neither thought nor cared about any effect which his progress +through the country might have upon the election. Magnificent preparations +were made to receive the illustrious statesman; a cavalcade of horsemen set +forth to meet him at the boundary line of the State, and all the people +left their business and gathered along the wayside to see him pass. Among +these was Ernest. Though more than once disappointed, as we have seen, he +had such a hopeful and confiding nature, that he was always ready to +believe in whatever seemed beautiful and good. He kept his heart +continually open, and thus was sure to catch the blessing from on high when +it should come. So now again, as buoyantly as ever, he went forth to behold +the likeness of the Great Stone Face. The cavalcade came prancing along the +road, with a great clattering of hoofs and a mighty cloud of dust, which +rose up so dense and high that the visage of the mountain-side was +completely hidden from Ernest's eyes. All the great men of the neighborhood +were there on horseback; militia officers, in uniform; the member of +Congress; the sheriff of the county; the editors of newspapers; and many a +farmer, too, had mounted his patient steed, with his Sunday coat upon his +back. It really was a very brilliant spectacle, especially as there were +numerous banners flaunting over the cavalcade, on some of which were +gorgeous portraits of the illustrious statesman and the Great Stone Face, +smiling familiarly at one another, like two brothers. If the pictures were +to be trusted, the mutual resemblance, it must be confessed, was marvelous. +We must not forget to mention that there was a band of music, which made +the echoes of the mountains ring and reverberate with the loud triumph of +its strains; so that airy and soul-thrilling melodies broke out among all +the heights and hollows, as if every nook of his native valley had found a +voice, to welcome the distinguished guest. But the grandest effect was when +the far-off mountain precipice flung back the music; for then the Great +Stone Face itself seemed to be swelling the triumphant chorus, in +acknowledgment that, at length, the man of prophecy was come. + +All this while the people were throwing up their hats and shouting with +enthusiasm so contagious that the heart of Ernest kindled up, and he +likewise threw up his hat, and shouted, as loudly as the loudest, "Huzza +for the great man! Huzza for Old Stony Phiz!" But as yet he had not seen +him. + +"Here he is, now!" cried those who stood near Ernest. "There! There! Look +at Old Stony Phiz and then at the Old Man of the Mountain, and see if they +are not as like as two twin-brothers!" + +In the midst of all this gallant array came an open barouche, drawn by four +white horses; and in the barouche, with his massive head uncovered, sat the +illustrious statesman, Old Stony Phiz himself. + +"Confess it," said one of Ernest's neighbors to him, "the Great Stone Face +has met its match at last!" + +Now, it must be owned that, at his first glimpse of the countenance which +was bowing and smiling from the barouche, Ernest did fancy that there was a +resemblance between it and the old familiar face upon the mountain-side. +The brow, with its massive depth and loftiness, and all the other features, +indeed, were boldly and strongly hewn, as if in emulation of a more than +heroic, of a Titanic model. But the sublimity and stateliness, the grand +expression of a divine sympathy, that illuminated the mountain visage and +etherealized its ponderous granite substance into spirit, might here be +sought in vain. Something had been originally left out, or had departed. +And therefore the marvelously gifted statesman had always a weary gloom in +the deep caverns of his eyes, as of a child that has outgrown its +playthings or a man of mighty faculties and little aims, whose life, with +all its high performances, was vague and empty, because no high purpose had +endowed it with reality. + +Still, Ernest's neighbor was thrusting his elbow into his side, and +pressing him for an answer. + +"Confess! confess! Is not he the very picture of your Old Man of the +Mountain?" + +"No!" said Ernest, bluntly, "I see little or no likeness." + +"Then so much the worse for the Great Stone Face!" answered his neighbor; +and again he set up a shout for Old Stony Phiz. + +But Ernest turned away, melancholy, and almost despondent: for this was the +saddest of his disappointments, to behold a man who might have fulfilled +the prophecy, and had not willed to do so. Meantime, the cavalcade, the +banners, the music, and the barouches swept past him, with the vociferous +crowd in the rear, leaving the dust to settle down, and the Great Stone +Face to be revealed again, with the grandeur that it had worn for untold +centuries. + +"Lo, here I am, Ernest!" the benign lips seemed to say. "I have waited +longer than thou, and am not yet weary. Fear not; the man will come." + +The years hurried onward, treading in their haste on one another's heels. +And now they began to bring white hairs, and scatter them over the head of +Ernest; they made reverend wrinkles across his forehead, and furrows in his +cheeks. He was an aged man. But not in vain had he grown old: more than the +white hairs on his head were the sage thoughts in his mind; his wrinkles +and furrows were inscriptions that Time had graved, and in which he had +written legends of wisdom that had been tested by the tenor of a life. And +Ernest had ceased to be obscure. Unsought for, undesired, had come the fame +which so many seek, and made him known in the great world, beyond the +limits of the valley in which he had dwelt so quietly. College professors, +and even the active men of cities, came from far to see and converse with +Ernest; for the report had gone abroad that this simple husbandman had +ideas unlike those of other men, not gained from books, but of a higher +tone,--a tranquil and familiar majesty, as if he had been talking with the +angels as his daily friends. Whether it were sage, statesman, or +philanthropist, Ernest received these visitors with the gentle sincerity +that had characterized him from boyhood, and spoke freely with them of +whatever came uppermost, or lay deepest in his heart or their own. While +they talked together, his face would kindle, unawares, and shine upon them, +as with a mild evening light. Pensive with the fulness of such discourse, +his guests took leave and went their way; and passing up the valley, paused +to look at the Great Stone Face, imagining that they had seen its likeness +in a human countenance, but could not remember where. + +While Ernest had been growing up and growing old, a bountiful Providence +had granted a new poet to this earth. He, likewise, was a native of the +valley, but had spent the greater part of his life at a distance from that +romantic region, pouring out his sweet music amid the bustle and din of +cities. Often, however, did the mountains which had been familiar to him in +his childhood lift their snowy peaks into the clear atmosphere of his +poetry. Neither was the Great Stone Face forgotten, for the poet had +celebrated it in an ode, which was grand enough to have been uttered by its +own majestic lips. This man of genius, we may say, had come down from +heaven with wonderful endowments. If he sang of a mountain, the eyes of all +mankind beheld a mightier grandeur reposing on its breast, or soaring to +its summit, than had before been seen there. If his theme were a lovely +lake, a celestial smile had now been thrown over it, to gleam forever on +its surface. If it were the vast old sea, even the deep immensity of its +dread bosom seemed to swell the higher, as if moved by the emotions of the +song. Thus the world assumed another and a better aspect from the hour that +the poet blessed it with his happy eyes. The Creator had bestowed him, as +the last best touch to his own handiwork. Creation was not finished till +the poet came to interpret, and so complete it. + +The effect was no less high and beautiful, when his human brethren were the +subject of his verse. The man or woman, sordid with the common dust of +life, who crossed his daily path, and the little child who played in it, +were glorified if he beheld them in his mood of poetic faith. He showed the +golden links of the great chain that intertwined them with an angelic +kindred; he brought out the hidden traits of a celestial birth that made +them worthy of such kin. Some, indeed, there were, who thought to show the +soundness of their judgment by affirming that all the beauty and dignity of +the natural world existed only in the poet's fancy. Let such men speak for +themselves, who undoubtedly appear to have been spawned forth by Nature +with a contemptuous bitterness; she having plastered them up out of her +refuse stuff, after all the swine were made. As respects all things else, +the poet's ideal was the truest truth. + +The songs of this poet found their way to Ernest. He read them after his +customary toil, seated on the bench before his cottage-door, where for such +a length of time he had filled his repose with thought, by gazing at the +Great Stone Face. And now as he read stanzas that caused the soul to thrill +within him, he lifted his eyes to the vast countenance beaming on him so +benignantly. + +"O majestic friend," he murmured, addressing the Great Stone Face, "is not +this man worthy to resemble thee?" + +The Face seemed to smile, but answered not a word. + +Now it happened that the poet, though he dwelt so far away, had not only +heard of Ernest, but had meditated much upon his character, until he deemed +nothing so desirable as to meet this man, whose untaught wisdom walked hand +in hand with the noble simplicity of his life. One summer morning, +therefore, he took passage by the railroad, and, in the decline of the +afternoon, alighted from the cars at no great distance from Ernest's +cottage. The great hotel, which had formerly been the palace of Mr. +Gathergold, was close at hand, but the poet, with his carpetbag on his arm, +inquired at once where Ernest dwelt, and was resolved to be accepted as his +guest. + +Approaching the door, he there found the good old man, holding a volume in +his hand, which alternately he read, and then, with a finger between the +leaves, looked lovingly at the Great Stone Face. + +"Good evening," said the poet. "Can you give a traveler a night's lodging?" + +"Willingly," answered Ernest; and then he added, smiling, "Methinks I never +saw the Great Stone Face look so hospitably at a stranger." + +The poet sat down on the bench beside him, and he and Ernest talked +together. Often had the poet held intercourse with the wittiest and the +wisest, but never before with a man like Ernest, whose thoughts and +feelings gushed up with such a natural freedom, and who made great truths +so familiar by his simple utterance of them. Angels, as had been so often +said, seemed to have wrought with him at his labor in the fields; angels +seemed to have sat with him by the fireside; and, dwelling with angels as +friend with friends, he had imbibed the sublimity of their ideas, and +imbued it with the sweet and lowly charm of household words. So thought the +poet. And Ernest, on the other hand, was moved and agitated by the living +images which the poet flung out of his mind, and which peopled all the air +about the cottage-door with shapes of beauty, both gay and pensive. The +sympathies of these two men instructed them with a profounder sense than +either could have attained alone. Their minds accorded into one strain, and +made delightful music which neither of them could have claimed as all his +own, nor distinguished his own share from the other's. They led one +another, as it were, into a high pavilion of their thoughts, so remote, and +hitherto so dim, that they had never entered it before, and so beautiful +that they desired to be there always. + +As Ernest listened to the poet, he imagined that the Great Stone Face was +bending forward to listen too. He gazed earnestly into the poet's glowing +eyes. + +"Who are you, my strangely gifted guest?" he said. The poet laid his finger +on the volume that Ernest had been reading. + +"You have read these poems," said he. "You know me, then,--for I wrote +them." + +Again, and still more earnestly than before, Ernest examined the poet's +features; then turned towards the Great Stone Face; then back, with an +uncertain aspect, to his guest. But his countenance fell; he shook his +head, and sighed. + +"Wherefore are you sad?" inquired the poet. + +"Because," replied Ernest, "all through life I have awaited the fulfilment +of a prophecy; and, when I read these poems, I hoped that it might be +fulfilled in you." + +"You hoped," answered the poet, faintly smiling, "to find in me the +likeness of the Great Stone Face. And you are disappointed, as formerly +with Mr. Gathergold, and Old Blood-and-Thunder, and Old Stony Phiz. Yes, +Ernest, it is my doom. You must add my name to the illustrious three, and +record another failure of your hopes. For--in shame and sadness do I speak +it, Ernest--I am not worthy to be typified by yonder benign and majestic +image." + +"And why?" asked Ernest. He pointed to the volume. "Are not those thoughts +divine?" + +"They have a strain of the Divinity," replied the poet. "You can hear in +them the far-off echo of a heavenly song. But my life, dear Ernest, has not +corresponded with my thought. I have had grand dreams, but they have been +only dreams, because I have lived--and that, too, by my own choice--among +poor and mean realities. Sometimes even--shall I dare to say it?--I lack +faith in the grandeur, the beauty, and the goodness, which my own works are +said to have made more evident in nature and in human life. Why, then, pure +seeker of the good and true, shouldst thou hope to find me, in yonder image +of the divine?" + +The poet spoke sadly, and his eyes were dim with tears. So, likewise, were +those of Ernest. + +At the hour of sunset, as had long been his frequent custom, Ernest was to +discourse to an assemblage of the neighboring inhabitants in the open air. +He and the poet, arm in arm, still talking together as they went along, +proceeded to the spot. It was a small nook among the hills, with a gray +precipice behind, the stern front of which was relieved by the pleasant +foliage of many creeping plants that made a tapestry for the naked rock, by +hanging their festoons from all its rugged angles. At a small elevation +above the ground, set in a rich framework of verdure, there appeared a +niche, spacious enough to admit a human figure, with freedom for such +gestures as spontaneously accompany earnest thought and genuine emotion. +Into this natural pulpit Ernest ascended, and threw a look of familiar +kindness around upon his audience. They stood, or sat, or reclined upon the +grass, as seemed good to each, with the departing sunshine falling +obliquely over them, and mingling its subdued cheerfulness with the +solemnity of a grove of ancient trees, beneath and amid the boughs of which +the golden rays were constrained to pass. In another direction was seen the +Great Stone Face, with the same cheer, combined with the same solemnity, in +its benignant aspect. + +Ernest began to speak, giving to the people of what was in his heart and +mind. His words had power, because they accorded with his thoughts; and his +thoughts had reality and depth, because they harmonized with the life which +he had always lived. It was not mere breath that this preacher uttered; +they were the words of life, because a life of good deeds and holy love was +melted into them. Pearls, pure and rich, had been dissolved into this +precious draught. The poet, as he listened, felt that the being and +character of Ernest were a nobler strain of poetry than he had ever +written. His eyes glistening with tears, he gazed reverentially at the +venerable man, and said within himself that never was there an aspect so +worthy of a prophet and a sage as that mild, sweet, thoughtful countenance, +with the glory of white hair diffused about it. At a distance, but +distinctly to be seen, high up in the golden light of the setting sun, +appeared the Great Stone Face, with hoary mists around it, like the white +hairs around the brow of Ernest. Its look of grand beneficence seemed to +embrace the world. + +At that moment, in sympathy with a thought which he was about to utter, the +face of Ernest assumed a grandeur of expression, so imbued with +benevolence, that the poet, by an irresistible impulse, threw his arms +aloft, and shouted,-- + +"Behold! Behold! Ernest is himself the likeness of the Great Stone Face!" + +Then all the people looked, and saw that what the deep-sighted poet said +was true. The prophecy was fulfilled. But Ernest, having finished what he +had to say, took the poet's arm, and walked slowly homeward, still hoping +that some wiser and better man than himself would by and by appear, bearing +a resemblance to the GREAT STONE FACE. + + + +HELPS TO STUDY. + + +Notes and Questions. + +What part of the description of the Great Stone Face do you like the best? + +What influence had this Face upon the valley? Upon the clouds? Upon the +sunshine? + +Show how each of the four characters failed to realize the ideal. + +What purpose do you think Hawthorne had in creating these characters? + +Why did so many people think that each of these men was the image of the +Great Stone Face? + +Why did not Ernest think so? + +What were the characteristics of the ideal? What words name them? + +What does the Great Stone Face symbolize? + +What words tell you the source of Ernest's power? + +What lines tell you of his humility? + +Summarize his characteristics. + +What pictures do you find in the selection? + +Point out sentences that contain examples of alliteration. + +Find a humorous sentence. + +Who were the Titans? + +Who was Midas? + + +Words and Phrases for Discussion. + + "infusing its tenderness into the sunshine" + "transform himself into an angel of beneficence" + "the mountain visage had found its human counterpart" + "a kind of illuminated fog" + "the prophecy was fulfilled" + + * * * * * + + +MY VISIT TO NIAGARA + +NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE + +Never did a pilgrim approach Niagara with deeper enthusiasm than mine. I +had lingered away from it, and wandered to other scenes, because my +treasury of anticipated enjoyments, comprising all the wonders of the +world, had nothing else so magnificent, and I was loath to exchange the +pleasures of hope for those of memory so soon. At length the day came. The +stage-coach, with a Frenchman and myself on the back seat, had already left +Lewiston, and in less than an hour would set us down in Manchester. I began +to listen for the roar of the cataract, and trembled with a sensation like +dread, as the moment drew nigh, when its voice of ages must roll, for the +first time, on my ear. The French gentleman stretched himself from the +window, and expressed loud admiration, while, by a sudden impulse, I threw +myself back and closed my eyes. When the scene shut in, I was glad to +think, that for me the whole burst of Niagara was yet in futurity. We +rolled on, and entered the village of Manchester, bordering on the falls. + +I am quite ashamed of myself here. Not that I ran like a madman to the +falls, and plunged into the thickest of the spray,--never stopping to +breathe, till breathing was impossible; not that I committed this, or any +other suitable extravagance. On the contrary, I alighted with perfect +decency and composure, gave my cloak to the black waiter, pointed out my +baggage, and inquired, not the nearest way to the cataract, but about the +dinner-hour. The interval was spent in arranging my dress. Within the last +fifteen minutes, my mind had grown strangely benumbed, and my spirits +apathetic, with a slight depression, not decided enough to be termed +sadness. My enthusiasm was in a deathlike slumber. Without aspiring to +immortality, as he did, I could have imitated that English traveller, who +turned back from the point where he first heard the thunder of Niagara, +after crossing the ocean to behold it. Many a Western trader, by the by, +has performed a similar act of heroism with more heroic simplicity, deeming +it no such wonderful feat to dine at the hotel and resume his route to +Buffalo or Lewiston, while the cataract was roaring unseen. + +Such has often been my apathy, when objects, long sought, and earnestly +desired, were placed within my reach. After dinner--at which an unwonted +and perverse epicurism detained me longer than usual--I lighted a cigar and +paced the piazza, minutely attentive to the aspect and business of a very +ordinary village. Finally, with reluctant step, and the feeling of an +intruder, I walked towards Goat Island. At the toll-house, there were +farther excuses for delaying the inevitable moment. My signature was +required in a huge ledger, containing similar records innumerable, many of +which I read. The skin of a great sturgeon, and other fishes, beasts, and +reptiles; a collection of minerals, such as lie in heaps near the falls; +some Indian moccasins, and other trifles, made of deer-skin and embroidered +with beads; several newspapers, from Montreal, New York, and Boston,--all +attracted me in turn. Out of a number of twisted sticks, the manufacture of +a Tuscarora Indian, I selected one of curled maple, curiously convoluted, +and adorned with the carved images of a snake and a fish. Using this as my +pilgrim's staff, I crossed the bridge. Above and below me were the rapids, +a river of impetuous snow, with here and there a dark rock amid its +whiteness, resisting all the physical fury, as any cold spirit did the +moral influences of the scene. On reaching Goat Island, which separates the +two great segments of the falls, I chose the right-hand path, and followed +it to the edge of the American cascade. There, while the falling sheet was +yet invisible, I saw the vapor that never vanishes, and the Eternal Rainbow +of Niagara. + +It was an afternoon of glorious sunshine, without a cloud, save those of +the cataracts. I gained an insulated rock, and beheld a broad sheet of +brilliant and unbroken foam, not shooting in a curbed line from the top of +the precipice, but falling, headlong down from height to depth. A narrow +stream diverged from the main branch, and hurried over the crag by a +channel of its own, leaving a little pine-clad island and a streak of +precipice between itself and the larger sheet. Below arose the mist, on +which was painted a dazzling sunbow with two concentric shadows,--one, +almost as perfect as the original brightness; and the other, drawn faintly +round the broken edge of the cloud. + +Still I had not half seen Niagara. Following the verge of the island, the +path led me to the Horseshoe, where the real, broad St. Lawrence, rushing +along on a level with its banks, pours its whole breadth over a concave +line of precipice, and thence pursues its course between lofty crags +towards Ontario. A sort of bridge, two or three feet wide, stretches out +along the edge of the descending sheet, and hangs upon the rising mist, as +if that were the foundation of the frail structure. Here I stationed myself +in the blast of wind, which the rushing river bore along with it. The +bridge was tremulous beneath me, and marked the tremor of the solid earth. +I looked along the whitening rapids, and endeavored to distinguish a mass +of water far above the falls, to follow it to their verge, and go down with +it, in fancy, to the abyss of clouds and storm. Casting my eyes across the +river, and every side, I took in the whole scene at a glance, and tried to +comprehend it in one vast idea. After an hour thus spent, I left the +bridge, and by a staircase, winding almost interminably round a post, +descended to the base of the precipice. From that point, my path lay over +slippery stones, and among great fragments of the cliff, to the edge of the +cataract, where the wind at once enveloped me in spray, and perhaps dashed +the rainbow round me. Were my long desires fulfilled? And had I seen +Niagara? + +Oh that I had never heard of Niagara till I beheld it! Blessed were the +wanderers of old, who heard its deep roar, sounding through the woods, as +the summons to an unknown wonder, and approached its awful brink, in all +the freshness of native feeling. Had its own mysterious voice been the +first to warn me of its existence, then, indeed, I might have knelt down +and worshipped. But I had come thither, haunted with a vision of foam and +fury, and dizzy cliffs, and an ocean tumbling down out of the sky,--a +scene, in short, which nature had too much good taste and calm simplicity +to realize. My mind had struggled to adapt these false conceptions to the +reality, and finding the effort vain, a wretched sense of disappointment +weighed me down. I climbed the precipice, and threw myself on the earth, +feeling that I was unworthy to look at the Great Falls, and careless about +beholding them again. + +All that night, as there has been and will be for ages past and to come, a +rushing sound was heard, as if a great tempest were sweeping through the +air. It mingled with my dreams, and made them full of storm and whirlwind. +Whenever I awoke, and heard this dread sound in the air, and the windows +rattling as with a mighty blast, I could not rest again, till looking +forth, I saw how bright the stars were, and that every leaf in the garden +was motionless. Never was a summer night more calm to the eye, nor a gale +of autumn louder to the ear. The rushing sound proceeds from the rapids, +and the rattling of the casements is but an effect of the vibration of the +whole house, shaken by the jar of the cataract. The noise of the rapids +draws the attention from the true voice of Niagara, which is a dull, +muffled thunder, resounding between the cliffs. I spent a wakeful hour at +midnight, in distinguishing its reverberations, and rejoiced to find that +my former awe and enthusiasm were reviving. + +Gradually, and after much contemplation, I came to know, by my own +feelings, that Niagara is indeed a wonder of the world, and not the less +wonderful, because time and thought must be employed in comprehending it. +Casting aside all preconceived notions, and preparation to be dire-struck +or delighted, the beholder must stand beside it in the simplicity of his +heart, suffering the mighty scene to work its own impression. Night after +night, I dreamed of it, and was gladdened every morning by the +consciousness of a growing capacity to enjoy it. Yet I will not pretend to +the all-absorbing enthusiasm of some more fortunate spectators, nor deny +that very trifling causes would draw my eyes and thoughts from the +cataract. + +The last day that I was to spend at Niagara, before my departure for the +Far West, I sat upon the Table Rock. This celebrated station did not now, +as of old, project fifty feet beyond the line of the precipice, but was +shattered by the fall of an immense fragment, which lay distant on the +shore below. Still, on the utmost verge of the rock, with my feet hanging +over it, I felt as if suspended in the open air. Never before had my mind +been in such perfect unison with the scene. There were intervals, when I +was conscious of nothing but the great river, lolling calmly into the +abyss, rather descending than precipitating itself, and acquiring tenfold +majesty from its unhurried motion. It came like the march of Destiny. It +was not taken by surprise, but seemed to have anticipated, in all its +course through the broad lakes, that it must pour their collected waters +down this height. The perfect foam of the river, after its descent, and the +ever-varying shapes of mist, rising up, to become clouds in the sky, would +be the very picture of confusion, were it merely transient, like the rage +of a tempest. But when the beholder has stood awhile, and perceives no lull +in the storm, and considers that the vapor and the foam are as everlasting +as the rocks which produce them, all this turmoil assumes a sort of +calmness. It soothes, while it awes the mind. + +Leaning over the cliff, I saw the guide conducting two adventurers behind +the falls. It was pleasant, from that high seat in the sunshine, to observe +them struggling against the eternal storm of the lower regions, with heads +bent down, now faltering, now pressing forward, and finally swallowed up in +their victory. After their disappearance, a blast rushed out with an old +hat, which it had swept from one of their heads. The rock, to which they +were directing their unseen course, is marked, at a fearful distance on the +exterior of the sheet, by a jet of foam. The attempt to reach it appears +both poetical and perilous to a looker-on, but may be accomplished without +much more difficulty or hazard than in stemming a violent northeaster. In a +few moments, forth came the children of the mist. Dripping and breathless, +they crept along the base of the cliff, ascended to the guide's cottage, +and received, I presume, a certificate of their achievement, with three +verses of sublime poetry on the back. + +My contemplations were often interrupted by strangers who came down from +Forsyth's to take their first view of the falls. A short, ruddy, +middle-aged gentleman, fresh from Old England, peeped over the rock, and +evinced his approbation by a broad grin. His spouse, a very robust lady, +afforded a sweet example of maternal solicitude, being so intent on the +safety of her little boy that she did not even glance at Niagara. As for +the child,--he gave himself wholly to the enjoyment of a stick of candy. +Another traveller, a native American, and no rare character among us, +produced a volume of Captain Hall's tour, and labored earnestly to adjust +Niagara to the captain's description, departing, at last, without one new +idea or sensation of his own. The next comer was provided, not with a +printed book, but with a blank sheet of foolscap, from top to bottom of +which, by means of an ever-pointed pencil, the cataract was made to +thunder. In a little talk which we had together, he awarded his approbation +to the general view, but censured the position of Goat Island, observing +that it should have been thrown farther to the right, so as to widen the +American falls, and contract those of the Horseshoe. Next appeared two +traders of Michigan, who declared, that, upon the whole, the sight was +worth looking at; there certainly was an immense water-power here; but +that, after all, they would go twice as far to see the noble stone-works of +Lockport, where the Grand Canal is locked down a descent of sixty feet. +They were succeeded by a young fellow, in a homespun cotton dress, with a +staff in his hand, and a pack over his shoulders. He advanced close to the +edge of the rock, where his attention, at first wavering among the +different components of the scene, finally became fixed in the angle of the +Horseshoe falls, which is, indeed the central point of interest. His whole +soul seemed to go forth and be transported thither, till the staff slipped +from his relaxed grasp, and falling down--down--down--struck upon the +fragment of the Table Rock. + +In this manner I spent some hours, watching the varied impression, made by +the cataract, on those who disturbed me, and returning to unwearied +contemplation, when left alone. At length my time came to depart. There is +a grassy footpath through the woods, along the summit of the bank, to a +point whence a causeway, hewn in the side of the precipice, goes winding +down to the Ferry, about half a mile below the Table Rock. The sun was near +setting, when I emerged from the shadow of the trees, and began the +descent. The indirectness of my downward road continually changed the point +of view, and showed me, in rich and repeated succession, now, the whitening +rapids and majestic leap of the main river, which appeared more deeply +massive as the light departed; now, the lovelier picture, yet still +sublime, of Goat Island, with its rocks and grove, and the lesser falls, +tumbling over the right bank of the St. Lawrence, like a tributary stream; +now, the long vista of the river, as it eddied and whirled between the +cliffs, to pass through Ontario toward the sea, and everywhere to be +wondered at, for this one unrivalled scene. The golden sunshine tinged the +sheet of the American cascade, and painted on its heaving spray the broken +semi-circle of a rainbow, heaven's own beauty crowning earth's sublimity. +My steps were slow, and I paused long at every turn of the descent, as one +lingers and pauses who discerns a brighter and brightening excellence in +what he must soon behold no more. The solitude of the old wilderness now +reigned over the whole vicinity of the falls. My enjoyment became the more +rapturous, because no poet shared it, nor wretch devoid of poetry profaned +it; but the spot so famous through the world was all my own! + + +HELPS TO STUDY. + +Notes and Questions. + +Why was Hawthorne's first impression of Niagara a disappointment? + +How did Hawthorne come to know that Niagara is a wonder of the world? + +What feelings did Niagara produce in Hawthorne? + +What effect on the reader did Hawthorne seek in this story? + +What does Hawthorne say is necessary in order to appreciate nature? + +What relation has Niagara to the geography of the country, its animal and +vegetable life, its trade and industry? + +What is the effect on one's feelings when he "considers that the vapor and +the foam are as everlasting as the rocks which produce them"? + +Niagara _grew_ on Hawthorne. Justify this. + +Note the comments of other observers based upon their interpretation of +Niagara. + +Do you think one who sees nothing in Niagara except a mass of rock and +water, vapor and sunshine, could appreciate its beauty, grandeur, and +sublimity? + + +Words and Phrases for Discussion. + + "insulated" + "rapturous" + "abyss of clouds" + "eddied and whirled" + "epicurism" + "convoluted" + "voice of ages" + "mysterious voice" + "unrivaled scene" + "Eternal Rainbow" + "majestic leap" + + * * * * * + + +EDGAR ALLAN POE + +So irregular was the life of Edgar Allan Poe and so strong were the +prejudices of his critics that not only his character and habits of life, +but even the simplest facts of his biography, are surrounded with mystery +and are subjects of doubt and dispute. + +By everything, but the accident of birth, Poe belongs to the South. His +father was from Baltimore and his mother was of English birth. They were +both members of a theatrical company playing in Boston at the time of Poe's +birth, January 19, 1809. At the age of three he was left an orphan by the +death of his mother. A wealthy Scotchman of Virginia, Mr. John Allan, +adopted him and brought him up in luxury--a much spoiled child, everywhere +petted for his beauty and precocity. + +He was sent to school in a suburb of London and upon his return to America +entered the University of Virginia, a proud, reserved, and self-willed +youth. Here he led an irregular life, so that Mr. Allan was forced to +withdraw him from school and gave him work in his office. The routine of +office work was very distasteful to Poe and he ran away to Boston, where he +published his first volume of poems. Here he enlisted in the army, but when +Mr. Allan heard of his whereabouts he secured his discharge and obtained an +appointment for him, as a cadet, at West Point. The severe discipline of +that school proved irksome to his restless nature and after a few months he +brought upon himself his dismissal. At the age of twenty-two he found +himself adrift with nothing further to expect from Mr. Allan. + +Literature presented itself as his most natural vocation. He had written +poetry from the pure love of it, but now actual poverty drove him to the +more remunerative prose writing. He engaged in journalistic work in +Baltimore, living with his aunt, Mrs. Clemm, and her daughter, Virginia. +Two years later he married Virginia Clemm, a mere child; but Poe, whose +reverence for women was his noblest trait, loved her and cared for her +through poverty and ill-health, until her death eleven years later, a short +time before his own. His life was a melancholy one, a fierce struggle and +final defeat. In 1849, on his way to New York from Richmond, chance brought +him and election day together in the city of Baltimore. He was found in an +election booth, delirious, and died a few days later. + +Poe was a keen critic of the literary men of his day, but he applied the +same standards to himself. He was constantly re-writing and polishing what +he had written. Poe's greatness lay in his imaginative, work--his tales and +his poems. The tales may be said to constitute a distinct addition to the +world's literature. From time immemorial, there have been tales in prose +and in verse, tales legendary, romantic, and humorous, but never any quite +like Poe's. + +The appeal of his poetry is to the sentiment of beauty--the one appeal, +which according to his theory is the final justification of any poem. +Language is made to yield its utmost of melody. "The Raven" was first +published in January, 1845, and immediately became and remains one of the +most widely known of English poems. It can be mentioned anywhere, without +apology or explanation and there is scarcely a lover of melodious verse who +cannot repeat many of its lines and stanzas. + +Every reader of Poe's prose will be impressed with the charm of the +language itself, the fascination of the vivid scenes and the magic touch +like the Necromancer's wand, which removes these scenes into the uncharted +realm of the supernatural and invests them with a kind of sacred awe. + + * * * * * + + +A DESCENT INTO THE MAELSTROeM + +EDGAR ALLAN POE + +WE had now reached the summit of the loftiest crag. For some minutes the +old man seemed too much exhausted to speak. + +"Not long ago," said he at length, "and I could have guided you on this +route as well as the youngest of my sons; but, about three years past, +there happened to me an event such as never happened before to mortal +man--or at least such as no man ever survived to tell of--and the six hours +of deadly terror which I then endured have broken me up body and soul. You +suppose me a _very_ old man--but I am not. It took less than a single +day to change these hairs from a jetty black to white, to weaken my limbs, +and to unstring my nerves, so that I tremble at the least exertion, and am +frightened at a shadow. Do you know I can scarcely look over this little +cliff without getting giddy?" + +The "little cliff," upon whose edge he had so carelessly thrown himself +down to rest that the weightier portion of his body hung over it, while he +was only kept from falling by the tenure of his elbow on its extreme and +slippery edge--this "little cliff" arose, a sheer unobstructed precipice of +black shining rock, some fifteen or sixteen hundred feet from the world of +crags beneath us. Nothing would have tempted me to within half a dozen +yards of its brink. In truth so deeply was I excited by the perilous +position of my companion, that I fell at full length upon the ground, clung +to the shrubs around me, and dared not even glance upward at the sky--while +I struggled in vain to divest myself of the idea that the very foundations +of the mountain were in danger from the fury of the winds. It was long +before I could reason myself into sufficient courage to sit up and look out +into the distance. + +"You must get over these fancies," said the guide, "for I have brought you +here that you might have the best possible view of the scene of that event +I mentioned--and to tell you the whole story with the spot just under your +eye. + +"We are now," he continued, in that particularizing manner which +distinguished him--"we are now close upon the Norwegian coast--in the +sixty-eighth degree of latitude--in the great province of Nordland--and in +the dreary district of Lofoden. The mountain upon whose top we sit is +Helseggen, the Cloudy. Now raise yourself up a little higher--hold on to +the grass if you feel giddy--so--and look out, beyond the belt of vapor +beneath us, into the sea." + +I looked dizzily, and beheld a wide expanse of ocean, whose waters wore so +inky a hue as to bring at once to my mind the Nubian geographer's account +of the _Mare Tenebrarum_. A panorama more deplorably desolate no human +imagination can conceive. To the right and left, as far as the eye could +reach, there lay outstretched, like ramparts of the world, lines of +horridly black and beetling cliff, whose character of gloom was but the +more forcibly illustrated by the surf which reared high up against it its +white and ghastly crest, howling and shrieking forever. Just opposite the +promontory upon whose apex we were placed, and at a distance of some five +or six miles out at sea, there was visible a small, bleak-looking island; +or, more properly, its position was discernible through the wilderness of +surge in which it was enveloped. About two miles nearer the land arose +another of smaller size, hideously craggy and barren, and encompassed at +various intervals by a cluster of dark rocks. + +The appearance of the ocean, in the space between the more distant island +and the shore, had something very unusual about it. Although, at the time, +so strong a gale was blowing landward that a brig in the remote offing lay +to under a double-reefed trysail, and constantly plunged her whole hull out +of sight, still there was here nothing like a regular swell, but only a +short, quick, angry cross-dashing of water in every direction--as well in +the teeth of the wind as otherwise. Of foam there was little except in the +immediate vicinity of the rocks. + +"The island in the distance," resumed the old man, "is called by the +Norwegians Vurrgh. The one midway is Moskoe. That a mile to the northward +is Ambaaren. Yonder are Iflesen, Hoeyholm, Kieldholm, Suarven, and +Buckholm. Farther off--between Moskoe and Vurrgh--are Otterholm, Flimen, +Sandflesen, and Skarholm. These are the true names of the places--but why +it has been thought necessary to name them at all is more than either you +or I can understand. Do you hear anything? Do you see any change in the +water?" + +We had now been about ten minutes upon the top of Helseggen, to which we +had ascended from the interior of Lofoden, so that we had caught no glimpse +of the sea until it had burst upon us from the summit. As the old man +spoke, I became aware of a loud and gradually increasing sound, like the +moaning of a vast herd of buffaloes upon an American prairie; and at the +same moment I perceived that what seamen term the _chopping_ character +of the ocean beneath us, was rapidly changing into a current which set to +the eastward. Even while I gazed, this current acquired a monstrous +velocity. Each moment added to its speed--to its headlong impetuosity. In +five minutes the whole sea, as far as Vurrgh, was lashed into ungovernable +fury; but it was between Moskoe and the coast that the main uproar held its +sway. Here the vast bed of the waters, seamed and scarred into a thousand +conflicting channels, burst suddenly into frenzied convulsion--heaving, +boiling, hissing--gyrating in gigantic and innumerable vortices, and all +whirling and plunging on to the eastward with a rapidity which water never +elsewhere assumes, except in precipitous descents. + +In a few minutes more there came over the scene another radical alteration. +The general surface grew somewhat more smooth, and the whirlpools, one by +one, disappeared, while prodigious streaks of foam became apparent where +none had been seen before. These streaks, at length, spreading out to a +great distance, and entering into combination, took unto themselves the +gyratory motion of the subsided vortices, and seemed to form the germ of +another more vast. Suddenly--very suddenly--this assumed a distinct and +definite existence, in a circle of more than a mile in diameter. The edge +of the whirl was represented by a broad belt of gleaming spray; but no +particle of this slipped into the mouth of the terrific funnel, whose +interior, as far as the eye could fathom it, was a smooth, shining and +jet-black wall of water, inclined to the horizon at an angle of some +forty-five degrees, speeding dizzily round and round with a swaying and +sweltering motion, and sending forth to the winds an appalling voice, half +shriek, half roar, such as not even the mighty cataract of Niagara ever +lifts up in its agony to Heaven. + +The mountain trembled to its very base, and the rock rocked. I threw myself +upon my face, and clung to the scant herbage in an excess of nervous +agitation. + +"This," said I at length, to the old man--"this _can_ be nothing else +than the great whirlpool of the Maelstroem." + +"So it is sometimes termed," said he. "We Norwegians call it the +Moskoe-stroem, from the island of Moskoe in the midway." + +The ordinary accounts of this vortex had by no means prepared me for what I +saw. That of Jonas Ramus, which, is perhaps the most circumstantial of any, +cannot impart the faintest conception either of the magnificence or of the +horror of the scene--or of the wild bewildering sense of _the novel_ +which confounds the beholder. I am not sure from what point of view the +writer in question surveyed it, nor at what time; but it could neither have +been from the summit of Helseggen, nor during a storm. There are some +passages of his description, nevertheless, which may be quoted for their +details, although their effect is exceedingly feeble in conveying an +impression of the spectacle. + +"Between Lofoden and Moskoe," he says, "the depth of the water is between +thirty-six and forty fathoms; but on the other side, toward Ver (Vurrgh) +this depth decreases so as not to afford a convenient passage for a vessel, +without the risk of splitting on the rocks, which happens even in the +calmest weather. When it is flood, the stream runs up the country between +Lofoden and Moskoe with a boisterous rapidity; but the roar of its +impetuous ebb to the sea is scarce equaled by the loudest and most dreadful +cataracts, the noise being heard several leagues off; and the vortices or +pits are of such an extent and depth that if a ship comes within its +attraction it is inevitably absorbed and carried down to the bottom, and +there beat to pieces against the rocks; and when the water relaxes, the +fragments thereof are thrown up again. But these intervals of tranquillity +are only at the turn of the ebb and flood, and in calm weather, and last +but a quarter of an hour, its violence gradually returning. When the stream +is most boisterous, and its fury heightened by a storm, it is dangerous to +come within a Norway mile of it. Boats, yachts, and ships have been carried +away by not guarding against it before they were within its reach. It +likewise happens frequently that whales come too near the stream, and are +overpowered by its violence; and then it is impossible to describe their +howling and bellowings in their fruitless struggles to disengage +themselves. A bear once, attempting to swim from Lofoden to Moskoe, was +caught by the stream and borne down, while he roared terribly, so as to be +heard on shore. Large stocks of firs and pine trees, after being absorbed +by the current, rise again broken and torn to such a degree as if bristles +grew upon them. This plainly shows the bottom to consist of craggy rocks, +among which they are whirled to and fro. This stream is regulated by the +flux and reflux of the sea--it being constantly high and low water every +six hours. In the year 1645, early in the morning of Sexagesima Sunday, it +raged with such noise and impetuosity that the very stones of the houses on +the coast fell to the ground." + +In regard to the depth of the water, I could not see how this could have +been ascertained at all in the immediate vicinity of the vortex. The "forty +fathoms" must have reference only to portions of the channel close upon the +shore either of Moskoe or Lofoden. The depth in the center of the +Moskoe-stroem must be immeasurably greater; and no better proof of this fact +is necessary than can be obtained from even the sidelong glance into the +abyss of the whirl which may be had from the highest crag of Helseggen. +Looking down from this pinnacle upon the howling Phlegethon below, I could +not help smiling at the simplicity with which the honest Jonas Ramus +records, as a matter difficult of belief, the anecdotes of the whales and +the bears; for it appeared to me, in fact, a self-evident thing that the +largest ships of the line in existence, coming within the influence of that +deadly attraction, could resist it as little as a feather the hurricane, +and must disappear bodily and at once. + +The attempts to account for the phenomenon--some of which, I remember, +seemed to me sufficiently plausible in perusal--now wore a very different +and unsatisfactory aspect. The idea generally received is that this, as +well as three smaller vortices among the Feroe Islands, "have no other +cause than the collision of waves rising and falling, at flux and reflux, +against a ridge of rocks and shelves, which confines the water so that it +precipitates itself like a cataract; and thus the higher the flood rises, +the deeper must the fall be, and the natural result of all is a whirlpool +or vortex, the prodigious suction of which is sufficiently known by lesser +experiments."--These are the words of the "Encyclopaedia Brittanica." +Kircher and others imagine that in the center of the channel of the +Maelstroem is an abyss penetrating the globe, and issuing in some very +remote part--the Gulf of Bothnia being somewhat decidedly named in one +instance. This opinion, idle in itself, was the one to which, as I gazed, +my imagination most readily assented; and, mentioning it to the guide, I +was rather surprised to hear him say that, although it was the view almost +universally entertained of the subject by the Norwegians, it nevertheless +was not his own. As to the former notion he confessed his inability to +comprehend it; and here I agreed with him--for, however conclusive on +paper, it becomes altogether unintelligible, and even absurd, amid the +thunder of the abyss. + +"You have had a good look at the whirl now," said the old man, "and if you +will creep round this crag, so as to get in its lee, and deaden the roar of +the water, I will tell you a story that will convince you I ought to know +something of the Moskoe-stroem." + +I placed myself as desired, and he proceeded. + +"Myself and my two brothers once owned a schooner-rigged smack of about +seventy tons burden, with which we were in the habit of fishing among the +islands beyond Moskoe, nearly to Vurrgh. In all violent eddies at sea there +is good fishing, at proper opportunities, if one has only the courage to +attempt it; but among the whole of the Lofoden coastmen we three were the +only ones who made a regular business of going out to the islands, as I +tell you. The usual grounds are a great way lower down to the southward. +There fish can be got at all hours, without much risk, and therefore these +places are preferred. The choice spots over here among the rocks, however, +not only yield the finest variety, but in far greater abundance; so that we +often got in a single day what the more timid of the craft could not scrape +together in a week. In fact, we made it a matter of desperate +speculation--the risk of life standing instead of labor, and courage +answering for capital. + +"We kept the smack in a cove about five miles higher up the coast than +this; and it was our practice, in fine weather, to take advantage of the +fifteen minutes' slack to push across the main channel of the Moskoe-stroem, +far above the pool, and then drop down upon anchorage somewhere near +Otterholm, or Sandflesen, where the eddies are not so violent as elsewhere. +Here we used to remain until nearly time for slack-water again, when we +weighed and made for home. We never set out upon this expedition without a +steady side wind for going and coming--one that we felt sure would not fail +us before our return--and we seldom made a miscalculation upon this point. +Twice, during six years, we were forced to stay all night at anchor on +account of a dead calm, which is a rare thing indeed just about here; and +once we had to remain on the grounds nearly a week, starving to death, +owing to a gale which blew up shortly after our arrival, and made the +channel too boisterous to be thought of. Upon this occasion we should have +been driven out to sea in spite of everything (for the whirlpools threw us +round and round so violently that, at length, we fouled our anchor and +dragged it) if it had not been that we drifted into one of the innumerable +cross currents--here to-day and gone to-morrow--which drove us under the +lee of Flimen, where, by good luck, we brought up. + +"I could not tell you the twentieth part of the difficulties we encountered +'on the ground'--it is a bad spot to be in, even in good weather--but we +made shift always to run the gauntlet of the Moskoe-stroem itself without +accident; although at times my heart has been in my mouth when we happened +to be a minute or so behind or before the slack. The wind sometimes was not +as strong as we thought it at starting, and then we made rather less way +than we could wish, while the current rendered the smack unmanageable. My +eldest brother had a son eighteen years old, and I had two stout boys of my +own. These would have been of great assistance at such times, in using the +sweeps, as well as afterward in fishing--but, somehow, although we ran the +risk ourselves, we had not the heart to let the young ones get into the +danger--for, after all said and done, it _was_ a horrible danger, and +that is the truth. + +"It is now within a few days of three years since what I am going to tell +you occurred. It was on the tenth of July, 18--, a day which the people of +this part of the world will never forget--for it was one in which blew the +most terrible hurricane that ever came out of the heavens. And yet all the +morning, and indeed until late in the afternoon, there was a gentle and +steady breeze from the southwest, while the sun shone brightly, so that the +oldest seaman among us could not have foreseen what was to follow. + +"The three of us--my two brothers and myself--had crossed over to the +islands about two o'clock P.M., and soon nearly loaded the smack with fine +fish, which, we all remarked, were more plenty that day than we had ever +known them. It was just seven, _by my watch_, when we weighed and +started for home, so as to make the worst of the Stroem at slack water, +which we knew would be at eight. + +"We set out with a fresh wind on our starboard quarter, and for some time +spanked along at a great rate, never dreaming of danger, for indeed we saw +not the slightest reason to apprehend it. All at once we were taken aback +by a breeze from over Helseggen. This was most unusual--something that had +never happened to us before--and I began to feel a little uneasy, without +exactly knowing why. We put the boat on the wind, but could make no headway +at all for the eddies, and I was upon the point of proposing to return to +the anchorage, when, looking astern, we saw the whole horizon covered with +a singular copper-colored cloud that rose with the most amazing velocity. + +"In the meantime the breeze that had headed us off fell away, and we were +dead becalmed, drifting about in every direction. This state of things, +however, did not last long enough to give us time to think about it. In +less than a minute the storm was upon us--in less than two the sky was +entirely overcast--and what with this and the driving spray, it became +suddenly so dark that we could not see each other in the smack. + +"Such a hurricane as then blew it is folly to attempt describing. The +oldest seaman in Norway never experienced anything like it. We had let our +sails go by the run before it cleverly took us; but, at the first puff, +both our masts went by the board as if they had been sawed off--the +mainmast taking with it my youngest brother, who had lashed himself to it +for safety. + +"Our boat was the lightest feather of a thing that ever sat upon water. It +had a complete flush deck, with only a small hatch near the bow, and this +hatch it had always been our custom to batten down when about to cross the +Stroem, by way of precaution against the chopping seas. But for this +circumstance we should have foundered at once--for we lay entirely buried +for some moments. How my elder brother escaped destruction I cannot say, +for I never had an opportunity of ascertaining. For my part, as soon as I +had let the foresail run, I threw myself flat on deck, with my feet against +the narrow gunwale of the bow, and with my hands grasping a ringbolt near +the foot of the foremast. It was mere instinct that prompted me to do +this--which was undoubtedly the very best thing I could have done--for I +was too much flurried to think. + +"For some moments we were completely deluged, as I say, and all this time I +held my breath, and clung to the bolt. When I could stand it no longer I +raised myself upon my knees, still keeping hold with my hands, and thus got +my head clear. Presently our little boat gave herself a shake, just as a +dog does in coming out of the water, and thus rid herself, in some measure, +of the seas. I was now trying to get the better of the stupor that had come +over me, and to collect my senses so as to see what was to be done, when I +felt somebody grasp my arm. It was my elder brother, and my heart leaped +for joy, for I had made sure that he was overboard--but the next moment all +this joy was turned into horror--for he put his mouth close to my ear, and +screamed out the word '_Moskoe-stroem!_' + +"No one will ever know what my feelings were at that moment. I shook from +head to foot as if I had had the most violent fit of the ague. I knew what +he meant by that one word well enough--I knew what he wished to make me +understand. With the wind that now drove us on, we were bound for the whirl +of the Stroem, and nothing could save us! + +"You perceive that in crossing the Stroem _channel_, we always went a +long way up above the whirl, even in the calmest weather, and then had to +wait and watch carefully for the slack--but now we were driving right upon +the pool itself, and in such a hurricane as this! 'To be sure,' I thought, +'we shall get there just about the slack--there is some little hope in +that'--but in the next moment I cursed myself for being so great a fool as +to dream of hope at all. I knew very well that we were doomed, had we been +ten times a ninety-gun ship. + +"By this time the first fury of the tempest had spent itself, or perhaps we +did not feel it so much as we scudded before it; but at all events the +seas, which at first had been kept down by the wind, and lay flat and +frothing, now got up into absolute mountains. A singular change, too, had +come over the heavens. Around in every direction it was still as black as +pitch, but nearly overhead there burst out, all at once, a circular rift of +clear sky--as clear as I ever saw--and of a deep bright blue--and through +it there blazed forth the full moon with a luster that I never before knew +her to wear. She lit up everything about us with the greatest +distinctness--but, oh God, what a scene it was to light up! + +"I now made one or two attempts to speak to my brother--but, in some manner +which I could not understand, the din had so increased that I could not +make him hear a single word, although I screamed at the top of my voice in +his ear. Presently he shook his head, looking as pale as death, and held up +one of his fingers, as if to say _listen!_ + +"At first I could not make out what he meant--but soon a hideous thought +flashed upon me. I dragged my watch from its fob. It was not going. I +glanced at its face by the moonlight, and then burst into tears as I flung +it far away into the ocean. _It had run down at seven o'clock! We were +behind the time of the slack, and the whirl of the Stroem was in full +fury!_ + +"When a boat is well built, properly trimmed, and not deep laden, the waves +in a strong gale, when she is going large, seem always to slip from beneath +her--which appears very strange to a landsman--and this is what is called +_riding_, in sea phrase. + +"Well, so far we had ridden the swells very cleverly; but presently a +gigantic sea happened to take us right under the counter, and bore us with +it as it rose--up--up--as if into the sky. I would not have believed that +any wave could rise so high. And then down we came with a sweep, a slide, +and a plunge, that made me feel sick and dizzy, as if I was falling from +some lofty mountain-top in a dream. But while we were up I had thrown a +quick glance around--and that one glance was all-sufficient. I saw our +exact position in an instant. The Moskoe-stroem whirlpool was about a +quarter of a mile dead ahead--but no more like the everyday Moskoe-stroem, +than the whirl as you now see it is like a mill-race. If I had not known +where we were, and what we had to expect, I should not have recognized the +place at all. As it was, I involuntarily closed my eyes in horror. The lids +clenched themselves together as if in a spasm. + +"It could not have been more than two minutes afterwards until we suddenly +felt the waves subside, and were enveloped in foam. The boat made a sharp +half turn to larboard, and then shot off in its new direction like a +thunderbolt. At the same moment the roaring noise of the water was +completely drowned in a kind of shrill shriek--such a sound as you might +imagine given out by the waterpipes of many thousand steam vessels, letting +off their steam all together. We were now in the belt of surf that always +surrounds the whirl; and I thought, of course, that another moment would +plunge us into the abyss--down which we could only see indistinctly on +account of the amazing velocity with which we were borne along. The boat +did not seem to sink into the water at all, but to skim like an air-bubble +upon the surface of the surge. Her starboard side was next the whirl, and +on the larboard arose the world of ocean we had left. It stood like a huge +writhing wall between us and the horizon. + +"It may appear strange, but now, when we were in the very jaws of the gulf, +I felt more composed than when we were only approaching it. Having made up +my mind to hope no more, I got rid of a great deal of that terror which +unmanned me at first. I suppose it was despair that strung my nerves. + +"It may look like boasting--but what I tell you is truth--I began to +reflect how magnificent a thing it was to die in such a manner, and how +foolish it was in me to think of so paltry a consideration as my own +individual life, in view of so wonderful a manifestation of God's power. I +do believe that I blushed with shame when this idea crossed my mind. After +a little while I became possessed with the keenest curiosity about the +whirl itself. I positively felt a _wish_ to explore its depths, even +at the sacrifice I was going to make; and my principal grief was that I +should never be able to tell my old companions on shore about the mysteries +I should see. These, no doubt, were singular fancies to occupy a man's mind +in such extremity--and I have often thought since, that the revolutions of +the boat around the pool might have rendered me a little light-headed. + +"There was another circumstance which tended to restore my self-possession; +and this was the cessation of the wind, which could not reach us in our +present situation--for, as you saw yourself, the belt of surf is +considerably lower than the general bed of the ocean, and this latter now +towered above us, a high, black, mountainous ridge. If you have never been +at sea in a heavy gale, you can form no idea of the confusion of mind +occasioned by the wind and spray together. They blind, deafen, and strangle +you, and take away all power of action or reflection. But we were now, in a +great measure, rid of these annoyances--just as death-condemned felons in +prisons are allowed petty indulgences, forbidden them while their doom is +yet uncertain. + +"How often we made the circuit of the belt it is impossible to say. We +careered round and round for perhaps an hour, flying rather than floating, +getting gradually more and more into the middle of the surge, and then +nearer and nearer to its horrible inner edge. All this time I had never let +go of the ringbolt. My brother was at the stern, holding on to a small +empty water-cask which had been securely lashed under the coop of the +counter, and was the only thing on deck that had not been swept overboard +when the gale first took us. As we approached the brink of the pit he let +go his hold upon this, and made for the ring, from which, in the agony of +his terror, he endeavored to force my hands, as it was not large enough to +afford us both a secure grasp. I never felt deeper grief than when I saw +him attempt this act--although I knew he was a madman when he did it--a +raving maniac through sheer fright. I did not care, however, to contest the +point with him. I knew it could make no difference whether either of us +held on at all; so I let him have the bolt, and went astern to the cask. +This there was no great difficulty in doing; for the smack flew round +steadily enough, and upon an even keel--only swaying to and fro, with the +immense sweeps and swelters of the whirl. Scarcely had I secured myself in +my new position, when we gave a wild lurch to starboard, and rushed +headlong into the abyss. I muttered a hurried prayer to God, and thought +all was over. + +"As I felt the sickening sweep of the descent, I had instinctively +tightened my hold upon the barrel, and closed my eyes. For some seconds I +dared not open them--while I expected instant destruction, and wondered +that I was not already in my death-struggles with the water. But moment +after moment elapsed. I still lived. The sense of falling had ceased; and +the motion of the vessel seemed much as it had been before, while in the +belt of foam, with the exception that she now lay more along. I took +courage and looked once again upon the scene. + +"Never shall I forget the sensations of awe, horror, and admiration with +which I gazed about me. The boat appeared to be hanging, as if by magic, +midway down, upon the interior surface of a funnel vast in circumference, +prodigious in depth, and whose perfectly smooth sides might have been +mistaken for ebony, but for the bewildering rapidity with which they spun +around, and for the gleaming and ghastly radiance they shot forth, as the +rays of the full moon, from that circular rift amid the clouds which I have +already described, streamed in a flood of golden glory along the black +walls, and far away down into the inmost recesses of the abyss. + +"At first I was too much confused to observe anything accurately. The +general burst of terrific grandeur was all that I beheld. When I recovered +myself a little, however, my gaze fell instinctively downward. In this +direction I was able to obtain an unobstructed view, from the manner in +which the smack hung on the inclined surface of the pool. She was quite +upon an even keel--that is to say, her deck lay in a plane parallel with +that of the water--but this latter sloped at an angle of more than +forty-five degrees, so that we seemed to be lying upon our beam-ends. I +could not help observing, nevertheless, that I had scarcely more difficulty +in maintaining my hold and footing in this situation, than if we had been +upon a dead level; and this, I suppose, was owing to the speed at which we +revolved. + +"The rays of the moon seemed to search the very bottom of the profound +gulf; but still I could make out nothing distinctly, on account of a thick +mist in which everything there was enveloped, and over which there hung a +magnificent rainbow, like that narrow and tottering bridge which Mussulmans +say is the only pathway between Time and Eternity. This mist, or spray, was +no doubt occasioned by the clashing of the great walls of the funnel, as +they all met together at the bottom--but the yell that went up to the +heavens from out of that mist, I dare not attempt to describe. + +"Our first slide into the abyss itself, from the belt of foam above, had +carried us to a great distance down the slope; but our farther descent was +by no means proportionate. Round and round we swept--not with any uniform +movement, but in dizzying swings and jerks, that sent us sometimes only a +few hundred yards--sometimes nearly the complete circuit of the whirl. Our +progress downward, at each revolution, was slow, but very perceptible. + +"Looking about me upon the wide waste of liquid ebony on which we were thus +borne, I perceived that our boat was not the only object in the embrace of +the whirl. Both above and below us were visible fragments of vessels, large +masses of building timber and trunks of trees, with many smaller articles, +such as pieces of house furniture, broken boxes, barrels, and staves. I +have already described the unnatural curiosity which had taken the place of +my original terrors. It appeared to grow upon me as I drew nearer and +nearer to my dreadful doom. I now began to watch, with a strange interest, +the numerous things that floated in our company. I _must_ have been +delirious--for I even sought _amusement_ in speculating upon the +relative velocities of their several descents toward the foam below. 'This +fir tree,' I found myself at one time saying, 'will certainly be the next +thing that takes the awful plunge and disappears,'--and then I was +disappointed to find that the wreck of a Dutch merchant ship overtook it +and went down before. At length, after making several guesses of this +nature, and being deceived in all--this fact--the fact of my invariable +miscalculation, set me upon a train of reflection that made my limbs again +tremble, and my heart beat heavily once more. + +"It was not a new terror that thus affected me, but the dawn of a more +exciting _hope_. This hope arose partly from memory, and partly from +present observation. I called to mind the great variety of buoyant matter +that strewed the coast of Lofoden, having been absorbed and then thrown +forth by the Moskoe-stroem. By far the greater number of the articles were +shattered in the most extraordinary way--so chafed and roughened as to have +the appearance of being stuck full of splinters--but then I distinctly +recollected that there were _some_ of them which were not disfigured +at all. Now I could not account for this difference except by supposing +that the roughened fragments were the only ones which had been +_completely absorbed_--that the others had entered the whirl at so +late a period of the tide, or, from some reason, had descended so slowly +after entering, that they did not reach the bottom before the turn of the +flood came, or of the ebb, as the case might be. I conceived it possible, +in either instance, that they might thus be whirled up again to the level +of the ocean, without undergoing the fate of those which had been drawn in +more early or absorbed more rapidly. I made, also, three important +observations. The first was, that as a general rule, the larger the bodies +were, the more rapid their descent; the second, that, between two masses of +equal extent, the one spherical, and the other of _any other shape_, +the superiority in speed of descent was with the sphere; the third, that, +between two masses of equal size, the one cylindrical, and the other of any +other shape, the cylinder was absorbed the more slowly. Since my escape, I +have had several conversations on this subject with an old schoolmaster of +the district; and it was from him that I learned the use of the words +'cylinder' and 'sphere.' He explained to me--although I have forgotten the +explanation--how what I observed was, in fact, the natural consequence of +the forms of the floating fragments, and showed me how it happened that a +cylinder, swimming in a vortex, offered more resistance to its suction, and +was drawn in with greater difficulty, than an equally bulky body, of any +form whatever. + +"There was one startling circumstance which went a great way in enforcing +these observations, and rendering me anxious to turn them to account, and +this was that, at every revolution, we passed something like a barrel, or +else the yard or the mast of a vessel, while many of these things, which +had been on our level when I first opened my eyes upon the wonders of the +whirlpool, were now high up above us, and seemed to have moved but little +from their original station. + +"I no longer hesitated what to do. I resolved to lash myself securely to +the water-cask upon which I now held, to cut it loose from the counter, and +to throw myself with it into the water. I attracted my brother's attention +by signs, pointed to the floating barrels that came near us, and did +everything in my power to make him understand what I was about to do. I +thought at length that he comprehended my design--but, whether this was the +case or not, he shook his head despairingly, and refused to move from his +station by the ringbolt. It was impossible to reach him; the emergency +admitted of no delay; and so, with a bitter struggle, I resigned him to his +fate, fastened myself to the cask by means of the lashings which secured it +to the counter, and precipitated myself with it into the sea, without +another moment's hesitation. + +"The result was precisely what I had hoped it might be. As it is myself who +now tell you this tale--as you see that I _did_ escape--and as you are +already in possession of the mode in which this escape was effected, and +must therefore anticipate all that I have farther to say-I will bring my +story quickly to conclusion. It might have been an hour, or thereabout, +after my quitting the smack, when, having descended to a vast distance +beneath me, it made three or four wild gyrations in rapid succession, and, +bearing my loved brother with it, plunged headlong, at once and forever, +into the chaos of foam below. The barrel to which I was attached sunk very +little farther than half the distance between the bottom of the gulf and +the spot at which I leaped overboard, before a great change took place in +the character of the whirlpool. The slope of the sides of the vast funnel +became momently less and less steep. The gyrations of the whirl grew, +gradually, less and less violent. By degrees, the froth and the rainbow +disappeared, and the bottom of the gulf seemed slowly to uprise. The sky +was clear, the winds had gone down, and the full moon was setting radiantly +in the west, when I found myself on the surface of the ocean, in full view +of the shores of Lofoden, and above the spot where the pool of the +Moskoe-stroem _had been._ It was the hour of the slack, but the sea +still heaved in mountainous waves from the effects of the hurricane. I was +borne violently into the channel of the Stroem, and in a few minutes was +hurried down the coast into the 'grounds' of the fishermen. A boat picked +me up--exhausted from fatigue--and (now that the danger was removed) +speechless from the memory of its horror. Those who drew me on board were +my old mates and daily companions, but they knew me no more than they would +have known a traveler from the spirit-land. My hair, which had been +raven-black the day before, was as white as you see it now. They say, too, +that the whole expression of my countenance had changed. I told them my +story--they did not believe it. I now tell it to you--and I can scarcely +expect you to put more faith in it than did the merry fishermen of +Lofoden." + + + +HELPS TO STUDY. + + +Notes and Questions. + +Locate the scene of this story on your map. + +How does the hero account for his apparent age? + +What do you learn from Jonas Ramus's description of the whirlpool? + +How does the "Encyclopedia Britannica" account for the vortex? + +What was the theory of Kircher? + +Briefly relate in your own words the hero's story of his experience in the +Maelstroem. + +What tempted him into the whirlpool? + +Account for his miscalculation as to the time of the slack. + +What three observations did the hero make? + +How did he make his escape? + +From this story what do you think of Poe's powers of imagination and +description? + +What other authors have you read that have similar powers? + + +Words and Phrases for Discussion. + + "circumstantial" + "bleak-looking" + "double-reefed" + "gyrating" + "prodigious" + "impetuosity" + "promontory" + "encompassed" + "inevitably" + "deplorably desolate" + "gleaming spray" + "boisterous rapidity" + "fruitless struggles" + "desperate speculation" + "terrific grandeur" + "frenzied convulsions" + "precipitous descents" + "sufficiently plausible" + "belt of foam" + "collision of waves" + "flood of golden glory" + "wild waste of liquid ebony" + "chaos of foam" + "the gyrations of the whirl" + + * * * * * + + +THE RAVEN + +EDGAR ALLAN POE + + +Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary, +Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,-- +While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, +As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door. +"'Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door: + Only this and nothing more." + +Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December, +And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor. +Eagerly I wished the morrow;--vainly I had sought to borrow +From my books surcease of sorrow--sorrow for the lost Lenore, +For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore: + Nameless here for evermore. + +And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain +Thrilled me--filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before; +So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating +"'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door, +Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door: + This it is and nothing more." + +Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer, +"Sir," said I, "or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore; +But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping, +And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door, +That I scarce was sure I heard you"--here I opened wide the door:-- + Darkness there and nothing more. + +Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing, +Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before; +But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token, +And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, "Lenore?" +This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, "Lenore": + Merely this and nothing more. + +Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning, +Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before. +"Surely," said I, "surely that is something at my window lattice; +Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore; +Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore: + 'Tis the wind and nothing more." + +Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter, +In there stepped a stately Raven of the saintly days of yore. +Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he; +But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door, +Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door: + Perched, and sat, and nothing more. + +Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling +By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,-- +"Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou," I said, "art sure no craven, +Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from the Nightly shore: +Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!" + Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore." + +Much I marveled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly, +Though its answer little meaning--little relevancy bore; +For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being +Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door, +Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door, + With such name as "Nevermore." + +But the Raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only +That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour, +Nothing further then he uttered, not a feather then he fluttered, +Till I scarcely more than muttered,--"Other friends have flown before; +On the morrow he will leave me, as my Hopes have flown before." + Then the bird said, "Nevermore." + +Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken, +"Doubtless," said I, "what it utters is its only stock and store, +Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster +Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore: +Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore + Of 'Never--nevermore.'" + +But the Raven still beguiling all my fancy into smiling, +Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and door; +Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking +Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of 'yore, +What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore + Meant in croaking "Nevermore." + +This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing +To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core; +This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining +On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o'er, +But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er + She shall press,' ah, nevermore! + +Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer +Swung by seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor. +"Wretch," I cried, "thy God hath lent thee by these angels he hath sent thee +Respite--respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore! +Quaff, oh, quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!" + Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore." + +"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil! prophet still, if bird or devil! +Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore, +Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted +On this home by Horror haunted--tell me truly, I implore: +Is there, is there balm in Gilead?--tell me--tell me, I implore!" + Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore." + +"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil! prophet still, if bird or devil! +By that Heaven that bends above us, by that God we both adore, +Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn, +It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore: +Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore!" + Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore." + +"Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!" I shrieked, upstarting: +"Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore! +Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken! +Leave my loneliness unbroken! quit the bust above my door! +Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!" + Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore." + +And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting +On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door; +And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming, +And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor: +And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor + Shall be lifted--nevermore! + + +HELPS TO STUDY. + +Notes and Questions. + +What is the theme of this poem? + +What gives it its musical quality? + +Mention parts that you think are especially beautiful. + +Find examples of alliteration. + +What does the refrain add to this poem? + +What is the meaning of "Night's Plutonian shore"? + +Of what is the raven a symbol? + +Why does the poet call the bust of Pallas "pallid"? + +What is the significance of the last stanza? + +From this poem, in what would you say Poe's poetry excels? + +Which stanza do you like best? + +Why? + + +Words and Phrases for Discussion. + + "ghost" + "surcease" + "entreating" + "obeisance" + "craven" + "ominous" + "censer" + "seraphim" + "nepenthe" + "dying ember" + "fantastic terrors" + "saintly days" + "tufted floor" + "pallid bust" + "radiant maiden" + "dirges of his Hope" + "bird of yore" + "balm in Gilead" + + * * * * * + + +HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW + +In "The Courtship of Miles Standish" Longfellow has made us acquainted with +his ancestors, John Alden and Priscilla Mullens, passengers of the +Mayflower. Of such ancestry Henry Wadsworth Longfellow was born in +Portland, Maine, February 27, 1807. His birthplace was at that time a +beautiful and busy town, a forest city with miles of sea beach and a port +where merchant vessels from the West Indies exchanged sugar and rum for the +products of the forest and the fisheries of Maine. + +We are told that he was a boy "true, high-minded and noble"; "active, +eager, often impatient"; "handsome in appearance" and the "sunlight of the +home." His conduct at school was "very correct and amiable"--he read much +and was always studious and thoughtful. The first book which fascinated his +imagination was Irving's "Sketch-Book." Indeed there is a resemblance +between the gentle Irving and the gentle Longfellow which is expressed in +the prose of one and the poetry of the other. + +Longfellow's education was obtained in Portland and at Bowdoin College, +Brunswick, Maine, where he had for classmates several youths who afterward +became famous, Nathaniel Hawthorne, J. S. C. Abbott, and Franklin Pierce. +Upon Longfellow's graduation, the trustees of the college, having decided +to establish a chair of modern languages, proposed that this young +graduate, of scholarly and literary tastes, should fit himself for this +position. Three years, therefore, he spent in delightful study and travel +in France, Spain, Italy, and Germany. Here was laid the foundation for his +scholarship, and, as in Irving on his first European trip, there was +kindled that passion for romantic lore which followed him through life and +which gave color and direction to much of his work. He mastered the +language of each country visited in a remarkably short time, and many of +the choicer poems found in these languages he has given to us in the +English. + +After five years at Bowdoin, Longfellow was invited in 1834 to the chair of +modern languages in Harvard College. Again he was given an opportunity to +prepare himself by a year of study abroad. In 1836 he began his active work +at Harvard and took up his residence in the historic Craigie House, +overlooking the Charles River--a house in which Washington had been +quartered for some months when he came to Cambridge in 1775 to take command +of the Continental forces. Longfellow was thenceforth one of the most +prominent members of that group of men including Sumner, Hawthorne, +Agassiz, Lowell, and Holmes, who gave distinction to the Boston and +Cambridge of earlier days. + +For twenty years Longfellow filled the professorship of modern languages at +Harvard and was one of the best beloved instructors at the university. He +resigned that he might devote himself to writing and was succeeded at +Harvard by James Russell Lowell. + +Though Longfellow wrote in prose and is the author of many shorter poems, +his reputation is mainly based upon his longer poems. Longfellow was a +great admirer of the German poet, Goethe, to whose "Hermann and Dorothea" +we are indebted for much of the form and no doubt some of the story of +Evangeline. The story of Acadie was told first to Hawthorne by a friend of +both authors; but the tale was hardly dark enough to suit the fancy of +Hawthorne, whereas to Longfellow it seemed to have in it precisely those +elements of faith and devotion that make the widest appeal. In a collection +of poems published in 1850 appeared the poem of Longfellow's highest +patriotic reach, the allegory of "The Building of the Ship." A friend of +Lincoln recited this poem to him, and when the lines of its closing +apostrophe to the ship of state were reached, with tears in his eyes the +president said, "It is a great gift to be able to stir men like that." In +his poem, "Hiawatha," Longfellow chose the metre of the Finnish epic +"Kalevala," which is peculiarly suited to the tales of primitive people. +The worthiest and most picturesque traditions of the American Indian are +woven into a connected story whose charm is greatly heightened by the novel +melody of the verse. + +In 1861 the happiness of Longfellow's home life was broken by the death of +his wife, who was fatally burned. He turned from this sorrow and the +anxieties of the Civil War to the more mechanical work of writing tales and +making translations. The "Tales of a Wayside Inn" appeared in 1863, and +seven years later he published his translation of Dante's "Divine Comedy." + +On Longfellow's seventy-second birthday the children of Cambridge presented +him with a chair made from the wood of the "Village Blacksmith's" chestnut +tree. He died March 24, 1882, aged seventy-five. In 1884 a bust of him was +placed in the Poets' Corner of Westminster Abbey--England's gracious +tribute to the renown of America's best loved poet. + + +EVANGELINE: A TALE OF ACADIE + +HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW + +PRELUDE + + +This is the forest primeval. The murmuring pines and the hemlocks, +Bearded with moss, and in garments green, indistinct in the twilight, +Stand like Druids of eld, with voices sad and prophetic, +Stand like harpers hoar, with beards that rest on their bosoms. +Loud from its rocky caverns, the deep-voiced neighboring ocean +Speaks, and in accents disconsolate answers the wail of the forest. + +This is the forest primeval; but where are the hearts that beneath it +Leaped like the roe, when he hears in the woodland the voice of the huntsman? +Where is the thatch-roofed village, the home of Acadian farmers,-- +Men whose lives glided on like rivers that water the woodlands, +Darkened by shadows of earth, but reflecting an image of heaven? +Waste are those pleasant farms, and the farmers forever departed! +Scattered like dust and leaves, when the mighty blasts of October +Seize them, and whirl them aloft, and sprinkle them far o'er the ocean. +Naught but tradition remains of the beautiful village of Grand-Pre. + +Ye who believe in affection that hopes, and endures, and is patient, +Ye who believe in the beauty and strength of woman's devotion, +List to the mournful tradition still sung by the pines of the forest; +List to a Tale of Love in Acadie, home of the happy. + + +PART THE FIRST. + +I. + +In the Acadian land, on the shores of the Basin of Minas, +Distant, secluded, still, the little village of Grand-Pre +Lay in the fruitful valley. Vast meadows stretched to the eastward, +Giving the village its name, and pasture to flocks without number. +Dikes, that the hands of the farmers had raised with labor incessant, +Shut out the turbulent tides; but at stated seasons the floodgates +Opened and welcomed the sea to wander at will o'er the meadows. +West and south there were fields of flax, and orchards and cornfields +Spreading afar and unfenced o'er the plain; and away to the northward +Blomidon rose, and the forests old, and aloft on the mountains +Sea-fogs pitched their tents, and mists from the mighty Atlantic +Looked on the happy valley, but ne'er from their station descended. +There, in the midst of its farms, reposed the Acadian village. +Strongly built were the houses, with frames of oak and of chestnut, +Such as the peasants of Normandy built in the reign of the Henries. +Thatched were the roofs, with dormer-windows; and gables projecting +Over the basement below protected and shaded the doorway. +There in the tranquil evenings of summer, when brightly the sunset +Lighted the village street, and gilded the vanes on the chimneys, +Matrons and maidens sat in snow-white caps and in kirtles +Scarlet and blue and green, with distaffs spinning the golden +Flax for the gossiping looms, whose noisy shuttles within doors +Mingled their sound with the whir of the wheels and the songs of the maidens. +Solemnly down the street came the parish priest, and the children +Paused in their play to kiss the hand he extended to bless them. +Reverend walked he among them; and up rose matrons and maidens, +Hailing his slow approach with words of affectionate welcome. +Then came the laborers home from the field, and serenely the sun sank +Down to his rest, and twilight prevailed. Anon from the belfry +Softly the Angelus sounded, and over the roofs of the village +Columns of pale blue smoke, like clouds of incense ascending, +Rose from a hundred hearths, the homes of peace and contentment. +Thus dwelt together in love these simple Acadian farmers,-- +Dwelt in the love of God and of man. Alike were they free from +Fear, that reigns with the tyrant, and envy, the vice of republics. +Neither locks had they to their doors, nor, bars to their windows; +But their dwellings were open as day and the hearts of the owners; +There the richest was poor, and the poorest lived in abundance. + +Somewhat apart from the village, and nearer the Basin of Minas, +Benedict Bellefontaine, the wealthiest farmer of Grand-Pre, +Dwelt on his goodly acres; and with him, directing his household, +Gentle Evangeline lived, his child, and the pride of the village. +Stalworth and stately in form was the man of seventy winters; +Hearty and hale was he, an oak that is covered with snow-flakes; +White as the snow were his locks, and his cheeks as brown as the oak-leaves. +Fair was she to behold, that maiden of seventeen summers; +Black were her eyes as the berry that grows on the thorn by the wayside, +Black, yet how softly they gleamed beneath the brown shade of her tresses! +Sweet was her breath as the breath of kine that feed in the meadows. +When in the harvest heat she bore to the reapers at noontide +Flagons of home-brewed ale, ah! fair in sooth was the maiden. +Fairer was she when, on Sunday morn, while the bell from its turret +Sprinkled with holy sounds the air, as the priest with his hyssop +Sprinkles the congregation, and scatters blessings upon them, +Down the long street she passed, with her chaplet of beads and her missal, +Wearing her Norman cap and her kirtle of blue, and the ear-rings +Brought in the olden time from France, and since, as an heir-loom, +Handed down from mother to child, through long generations. +But a celestial brightness--a more ethereal beauty-- +Shone on her face and encircled her form, when, after confession, +Homeward serenely she walked with God's benediction upon her. +When she had passed, it seemed like the ceasing of exquisite music. + +Firmly builded with rafters of oak, the house of the farmer +Stood on the side of a hill commanding the sea; and a shady +Sycamore grew by the door, with a woodbine wreathing around it. +Rudely carved was the porch, with seats beneath; and a footpath +Led through an orchard wide, and disappeared in the meadow. +Under the sycamore-tree were hives overhung by a penthouse, +Such as the traveler sees in regions remote by the roadside, +Built o'er a box for the poor, or the blessed image of Mary. +Farther down, on the slope of the hill, was the well with its moss-grown +Bucket, fastened with iron, and near it a trough for the horses. +Shielding the house from storms, on the north, were the barns and the farm-yard; +There stood the broad-wheeled wains and the antique ploughs and the harrows; +There were the folds for the sheep; and there, in his feathered seraglio, +Strutted the lordly turkey, and crowed the cock, with the self-same +Voice that in ages of old had startled the penitent Peter. +Bursting with hay were the barns, themselves a village. In each one +Far o'er the gable projected a roof of thatch; and a staircase, +Under the sheltering eaves, led up to the odorous cornloft. +There too the dove-cot stood, with its meek and innocent inmates +Murmuring ever of love; while above in the variant breezes +Numberless noisy weathercocks rattled and sang of mutation. + +Thus, at peace with God and the world, the farmer of Grand-Pre +Lived on his sunny farm, and Evangeline governed his house-hold. +Many a youth, as he knelt in the church and opened his missal, +Fixed his eyes upon her as the saint of his deepest devotion; +Happy was he who might touch her hand or the hem of her garment! +Many a suitor came to her door, by the darkness befriended, +And, as he knocked and waited to hear the sound of her foot-steps, +Knew not which beat the louder, his heart or the knocker of iron; +Or, at the joyous feast of the Patron Saint of the village, +Bolder grew, and pressed her hand in the dance as he whispered +Hurried words of love, that seemed a part of the music. +But among all who came young Gabriel only was welcome; +Gabriel Lajeunesse, the son of Basil the blacksmith, +Who was a mighty man in the village, and honored of all men; +For since the birth of time, throughout all ages and nations, +Has the craft of the smith been held in repute by the people. +Basil was Benedict's friend--Their children from earliest child-hood +Grew up together as brother and sister; and Father Felician, +Priest and pedagogue both in the village, had taught them their letters +Out of the selfsame book, with the hymns of the church and the plain-song. +But when the hymn was sung, and the daily lesson completed, +Swiftly they hurried away to the forge of Basil the blacksmith. +There at the door they stood, with wondering eyes to behold him +Take in his leathern lap the hoof of the horse as a plaything, +Nailing the shoe in its place; while near him the tire of the cartwheel +Lay like a fiery snake, coiled round in a circle of cinders. +Oft on autumnal eyes, when without in the gathering darkness +Bursting with light seemed the smithy, through every cranny and crevice, +Warm by the forge within they watched the laboring bellows, +And as its panting ceased, and the sparks expired in the ashes, +Merrily laughed, and said they were nuns going into the chapel. +Oft on sledges in winter, as swift as the swoop of the eagle, +Down the hillside bounding, they glided away o'er the meadow. +Oft in the barns they climbed to the populous nests on the rafters, +Seeking with eager eyes that wondrous stone, which the swallow +Brings from the shore of the sea to restore the sight of its fledglings; +Lucky was he who found that stone in the nest of the swallow! +Thus passed a few swift years, and they no longer were children. +He was a valiant youth, and his face, like the face of the morning, +Gladdened the earth with its light, and ripened thought into action. +She was a woman now, with the heart and hopes of a woman. +"Sunshine of Saint Eulalie" was she called; for that was the sunshine +Which, as the farmers believed, would load their orchards with apples; +She too would bring to her husband's house delight and abundance, +Filling it full of love and the ruddy faces of children. + + +II. + + +Now had the season returned, when the nights grow colder and longer, +And the retreating sun the sign of the Scorpion enters. +Birds of passage sailed through the leaden air, from the icebound, +Desolate northern bays to the shores of tropical islands. +Harvests were gathered in; and wild with the winds of September +Wrestled the trees of the forest, as Jacob of old with the angel. +All the signs foretold a winter long and inclement. +Bees, with prophetic instinct of want, had hoarded their honey +Till the hives overflowed; and the Indian hunters asserted +Cold would the winter be, for thick was the fur of the foxes. +Such was the advent of autumn. Then followed that beautiful season, +Called by the pious Acadian peasants the Summer of All-Saints! +Filled was the air with a dreamy and magical light; and the landscape +Lay as if new-created in all the freshness of childhood. +Peace seemed to reign upon earth, and the restless heart of the ocean +Was for a moment consoled. All sounds were in harmony blended. +Voices of children at play, the crowing of cocks in the farmyards, +Whir of wings in the drowsy air, and the cooing of pigeons, +All were subdued and low as the murmurs of love, and the great sun +Looked with the eye of love through the golden vapors around him; +While arrayed in its robes of russet and scarlet and yellow, +Bright with the sheen of the dew, each glittering tree of the forest +Flashed like the plane-tree the Persian adorned with mantles and jewels. + +Now recommenced the reign of rest and affection and stillness. +Day with its burden and heat had departed, and twilight descending +Brought back the evening star to the sky, and the herds to the homestead. +Pawing the ground they came, and resting their necks on each other, +And with their nostrils distended inhaling the freshness of evening. +Foremost, bearing the bell, Evangeline's beautiful heifer, +Proud of her snow-white hide, and the ribbon that waved from her collar, +Quietly paced and slow, as if conscious of human affection. +Then came the shepherd back with his bleating flocks from the seaside, +Where was their favorite pasture. Behind them followed the watch-dog, +Patient, full of importance, and grand in the pride of his instinct, +Walking from side to side with a lordly air, and superbly +Waving his bushy tail, and urging forward the stragglers; +Regent of flocks was he when the shepherd slept; their protector, +When from the forest at night, through the starry silence, the wolves howled. +Late, with the rising moon, returned the wains from the marshes, +Laden with briny hay, that filled the air with its odor. +Cheerily neighed the steeds, with dew on their manes and their fetlocks, +While aloft on their shoulders the wooden and ponderous saddles, +Painted with brilliant dyes, and adorned with tassels of crimson +Nodded in bright array, like hollyhocks heavy with blossoms. +Patiently stood the cows meanwhile, and yielded their udders +Unto the milkmaid's hand; whilst loud and in regular cadence +Into the sounding pails the foaming streamlets descended. +Lowing of cattle and peals of laughter were heard in the farmyard, +Echoed back by the barns. Anon they sank into stillness; +Heavily closed, with a jarring sound, the valves of the barn doors, +Battled the wooden bars, and all for a season was silent. + +In-doors, warm by the wide-mouthed fireplace, idly the farmer +Sat in his elbow-chair, and watched how the flames and the smoke-wreaths +Struggled together like foes in a burning city. Behind him, +Nodding and mocking along the wall with gestures fantastic, +Darted his own huge shadow, and vanished away into darkness. +Faces, clumsily carved in oak, on the back of his arm-chair +Laughed in the nickering light, and the pewter plates on the dresser +Caught and reflected the flame, as shields of armies the sunshine. +Fragments of song the old man sang, and carols of Christmas, +Such as at home, in the olden time, his fathers before him +Sang in their Norman orchards and bright Burgundian vineyards. +Close at her father's side was the gentle Evangeline seated, +Spinning flax for the loom that stood in the corner behind her. +Silent awhile were its treadles, at rest was its diligent shuttle, +While the monotonous drone of the wheel, like the drone of a bagpipe, +Followed the old man's song, and united the fragments together. +As in a church, when the chant of the choir at intervals ceases, +Footfalls are heard in the aisles, or words of the priest at the altar, +So, in each pause of the song, with measured motion the clock clicked. + +Thus as they sat, there were footsteps heard, and, suddenly lifted, +Sounded the wooden latch, and the door swung back on its hinges. +Benedict knew by the hob-nailed shoes it was Basil the blacksmith, +And by her beating heart Evangeline knew who was with him. +"Welcome!" the farmer exclaimed, as their footsteps paused on the threshold, +"Welcome, Basil, my friend! Come, take thy place on the settle +Close by the chimney-side, which is always empty without thee; +Take from the shelf overhead thy pipe and the box of tobacco; +Never so much thyself art thou as when, through the curling +Smoke of the pipe or the forge, thy friendly and jovial face gleams +Round and red as the harvest moon through the mist of the marshes." +Then, with a smile of content, thus answered Basil the blacksmith, +Taking with easy air the accustomed seat by the fireside:-- +"Benedict Bellefontaine, thou hast ever thy jest and thy ballad! +Ever in cheerfullest mood art thou, when others are filled with +Gloomy forebodings of ill, and see only ruin before them. +Happy art thou, as if every day thou hadst packed up a horseshoe." +Pausing a moment, to take the pipe that Evangeline brought him, +And with a coal from the embers had lighted, he slowly continued:-- +"Four days now are passed since the English ships at their anchors +Ride in the Gaspereau's mouth, with their cannon pointed against us. +What their design may be is unknown; but all are commanded +On the morrow to meet in the church, where his Majesty's mandate +Will be proclaimed as law in the land. Alas! in the meantime +Many surmises of evil alarm the hearts of the people." +Then made answer the farmer:--"Perhaps some friendlier purpose + Brings these ships to our shores. Perhaps the harvests in England +By the untimely rains or untimelier heat have been blighted, +And from our bursting barns they would feed their cattle and children." +"Not so thinketh the folk in the village," said warmly the blacksmith, +Shaking his head as in doubt; then, heaving a sigh, he continued:-- +"Louisburg is not forgotten, nor Beau Sejour, nor Port Royal. +Many already have fled to the forest, and lurk on its outskirts, +Waiting with anxious hearts the dubious fate of tomorrow. +Arms have been taken from us, and warlike weapons of all kinds; +Nothing is left but the blacksmith's sledge and the scythe of the mower." +Then with a pleasant smile made answer the jovial farmer:-- +"Safer are we unarmed, in the midst of our flocks and our cornfields, +Safer within these peaceful dikes besieged by the ocean, +Than were our fathers in forts, besieged by the enemy's cannon. +Fear no evil, my friend, and tonight may no shadow of sorrow +Fall on this house and hearth; for this is the night of the contract. +Built are the house and the barn. The merry lads of the village +Strongly have built them and well; and, breaking the glebe round about them, +Filled the barn with hay, and the house with food for a twelvemonth. +Bene Leblanc will be here anon, with his papers and inkhorn. +Shall we not then be glad, and rejoice in the joy of our children?" +As apart by the window she stood, with her hand in her lover's, +Blushing Evangeline heard the words that her father had spoken, +And, as they died on his lips, the worthy notary entered. + +III + +Bent like a laboring oar, that toils in the surf of the ocean, +Bent, but not broken, by age was the form of the notary public; +Shocks of yellow hair, like the silken floss of the maize, hung +Over his shoulders; his forehead was high; and glasses with horn bows +Sat astride on his nose, with a look of wisdom supernal. +Father of twenty children was he, and more than a hundred +Children's children rode on his knee, and heard his great watch tick. +Four long years in the times of the war had he languished a captive, +Suffering much in an old French fort as the friend of the English. +Now, though warier grown, without all guile or suspicion, +Ripe in wisdom was he, but patient, and simple, and childlike. +He was beloved by all, and most of all by the children; +For he told them tales of the Loup-garou in the forest, +And of the goblin that came in the night to water the horses, +And of the white Letiche, the ghost of a child who unchristened +Died, and was doomed to haunt unseen the chambers of children; +And how on Christmas eve the oxen talked in the stable, +And how the fever was cured by a spider shut up in a nutshell, +And of the marvelous powers of four-leaved clover and horseshoes, +With whatsoever else was writ in the lore of the village. +Then up rose from his seat by the fireside Basil the blacksmith, +Knocked from his pipe the ashes, and slowly extending his right hand, +"Father Leblanc," he exclaimed, "thou hast heard the talk in the village, +And, perchance, canst tell us some news of these ships and their errand." +Then with modest demeanor made answer the notary public,-- +"Gossip enough have I heard, in sooth, yet am never the wiser; +And what their errand may be I know not better than others. +Yet am I not of those who imagine some evil intention +Brings them here, for we are at peace; and why then molest us?" +"God's name!" shouted the hasty and somewhat irascible blacksmith; +"Must we in all things look for the how, and the why, and the wherefore? +Daily injustice is done, and might is the right of the strongest!" +But, without heeding his warmth, continued the notary public,-- +"Man is unjust, but God is just; and finally justice +Triumphs; and well I remember a story, that often consoled me, +When as a captive I lay in the old French fort at Port Royal." +This was the old man's favorite tale, and he loved to repeat it +When his neighbors complained that any injustice was done them. +"Once in an ancient city, whose name I no longer remember, +Raised aloft on a column, a brazen statue of Justice +Stood in the public square, upholding the scales in its left hand, +And in its right a sword, as an emblem that justice presided +Over the laws of the land, and the hearts and homes of the people. +Even the birds had built their nests in the scales of the balance, +Having no fear of the sword that flashed in the sunshine above them. +But in the course of time the laws of the land were corrupted; +Might took the place of right, and the weak were oppressed, and the mighty +Ruled with an iron rod. Then it chanced in a nobleman's palace +That a necklace of pearls was lost, and ere long a suspicion +Fell on an orphan girl who lived as maid in the household. +She, after form of trial condemned to die on the scaffold, +Patiently met her doom at the foot of the statue of Justice. +As to her Father in heaven her innocent spirit ascended, +Lo! o'er the city a tempest rose; and the bolts of the thunder +Smote the statue of bronze, and hurled in wrath from its left hand +Down on the pavement below the clattering scales of the balance, +And in the hollow thereof was found the nest of a magpie, +Into whose clay-built walls the necklace of pearls was inwoven." +Silenced, but not convinced, when the story was ended, the blacksmith +Stood like a man who fain would speak, but findeth no language; +All his thoughts were congealed into lines on his face, as the vapors +Freeze in fantastic shapes on the window-panes in the winter. + +Then Evangeline lighted the Brazen lamp on the table, +Filled, till it overflowed, the pewter tankard with home-brewed +Nut-brown ale, that was famed for its strength in the village of Grand-Pre; +While from his pocket the notary drew his papers and inkhorn, +Wrote with a steady hand the date and the age of the parties, +Naming the dower of the bride in flocks of sheep and in cattle. +Orderly all things proceeded, and duly and well were completed, +And the great seal of the law was set like a sun on the margin. +Then from his leathern pouch the farmer threw on the table +Three times the old man's fee in solid pieces of silver; +And the notary rising, and blessing the bride and the bridegroom, +Lifted aloft the tankard of ale and drank to their welfare. +Wiping the foam from, his lip, he solemnly bowed and departed, +While in silence the others sat and mused by the fireside, +Till Evangeline brought the draught-board out of its corner. +Soon was the game begun. In friendly contention the old men +Laughed at each lucky hit, or unsuccessful manoeuvre, +Laughed when a man was crowned, or a breach was made in the king-row. +Meanwhile apart, in the twilight gloom of a window's embrasure, +Sat the lovers and whispered together, beholding the moon rise +Over the pallid sea and the silvery mist of the meadows. +Silently one by one, in the infinite meadows of heaven, +Blossomed the lovely stars, the forget-me-nots of the angels. + +Thus was the evening passed. Anon the bell from the belfry +Rang out the hour of nine, the village curfew, and straightway +Rose the guests and departed; and silence reigned in the household. +Many a farewell word and sweet good-night on the door-step +Lingered long in Evangeline's heart, and filled it with gladness. +Carefully then were covered the embers that glowed on the hearth-stone, +And on the oaken stairs resounded the tread of the farmer. +Soon with a soundless step the foot of Evangeline followed. +Up the staircase moved a luminous space in the darkness, +Lighted less by the lamp than the shining face of the maiden. +Silent she passed through the hall, and entered the door of her chamber. +Simple that chamber was, with its curtains of white, and its clothes-press +Ample and high, on whose spacious shelves were carefully folded +Linen and woollen stuffs, by the hand of Evangeline woven. +This was the precious dower she would bring to her husband in marriage, +Better than flocks and herds, being proofs of her skill as a house-wife. +Soon she extinguished her lamp, for the mellow and radiant moonlight +Streamed through the windows, and lighted the room, till the heart of the maiden +Swelled and obeyed its power, like the tremulous tides of the ocean. +Ah! she was fair, exceeding fair to behold, as she stood with +Naked snow-white feet on the gleaming floor of her chamber! +Little she dreamed that below, among the trees of the orchard, +Waited her lover and watched for the gleam of her lamp and her shadow. +Yet were her thoughts of him, and at times a feeling of sadness +Passed o'er her soul, as the sailing shade of clouds in the moonlight +Flitted across the floor and darkened the room for a moment. +And, as she gazed from the window, she saw serenely the moon pass +Forth from the folds of a cloud, and one star follow her footsteps, +As out of Abraham's tent young Ishmael wandered with Hagar. + +IV. + +Pleasantly rose next morn the sun on the village of Grand-Pre. +Pleasantly gleamed in the soft, sweet air the Basin of Minas, +Where the ships, with their wavering shadows, were riding at anchor. +Life had long been astir in the village, and clamorous labor +Knocked with its hundred hands at the golden gates of the morning. +Now from the country around, from the farms and neighboring hamlets, +Came in their holiday dresses the blithe Acadian peasants. +Many a glad good-morrow and jocund laugh from the young folk +Made the bright air brighter, as up from the numerous meadows, +Where no path could be seen but the track of wheels in the greensward, +Group after group appeared, and joined, or passed on the highway. +Long ere noon, in the village all sounds of labor were silenced. +Thronged were the streets with people; and noisy groups at the house-doors +Sat in the cheerful sun, and rejoiced and gossiped together. +Every house was an inn, where all were welcomed and feasted; +For with this simple people, who lived like brothers together, +All things were held in common, and what one had was another's +Yet under Benedict's roof hospitality seemed more abundant: +For Evangeline stood among the guests of her father; +Bright was her face with smiles, and words of welcome and gladness +Fell from her beautiful lips, and blessed the cup as she gave it. + +Under the open sky, in the odorous air of the orchard, +Bending with golden fruit, was spread the feast of betrothal. +There in the shade of the porch were the priest and the notary seated; +There good Benedict sat, and sturdy Basil the blacksmith. +Not far withdrawn from these, by the cider-press and the beehives, +Michael the fiddler was placed, with the gayest of hearts and of waistcoats. +Shadow and light from the leaves alternately played on his snow-white +Hair, as it waved in the wind; and the jolly face of the fiddler +Glowed like a living coal when the ashes are blown from the embers. +Gayly the old man sang to the vibrant sound of his fiddle, +_Tous les Bourgeois de Chartres,_ and _Le Carillon de Dunkerque,_ +And anon with his wooden, shoes beat time to the music. +Merrily, merrily whirled the wheels of the dizzying dances +Under the orchard-trees and down the path to the meadows; +Old folk and young together, and children mingled among them. +Fairest of all the maids was Evangeline, Benedict's daughter! +Noblest of all the youths was Gabriel, son of the blacksmith. + +So passed the morning away. And lo! with a summons sonorous +Sounded the bell from its tower, and over the meadows a drum beat. +Thronged ere long was the church with men. Without, in the churchyard, +Waited the women. They stood by the graves, and hung on the headstones +Garlands of autumn-leaves and evergreens fresh from the forest. +Then came the guard from the ships, and marching proudly among them +Entered the sacred portal. With loud and dissonant clangor +Echoed the sound of their brazen drums from ceiling and casement,-- +Echoed a moment only, and slowly the ponderous portal +Closed, and in silence the crowd awaited the will of the soldiers. +Then uprose their commander, and spake from the steps of the altar, +Holding aloft in his hands, with its seals, the royal commission. +"You are convened this day," he said, "by his Majesty's orders. +Clement and kind has he been; but how you have answered his kindness +Let your own hearts reply! To my natural make and my temper +Painful the task is I do, which to you I know must be grievous. +Yet must I bow and obey, and deliver the will of our monarch: +Namely, that all your lands, and dwellings, and cattle of all kinds +Forfeited be to the crown; and that you yourselves from this province +Be transported to other lands. God grant you may dwell there +Ever as faithful subjects, a happy and peaceable people! +Prisoners now I declare you, for such is his Majesty's pleasure!" +As, when the air is serene in the sultry solstice of summer, +Suddenly gathers a storm, and the deadly sling of the hailstones +Beats down the farmer's corn in the field, and shatters his windows, +Hiding the sun, and strewing the ground with thatch from the house-roofs, +Bellowing fly the herds, and seek to break their enclosures; +So on the hearts of the people descended the words of the speaker. +Silent a moment they stood in speechless wonder, and then rose +Louder and ever louder a wail of sorrow and anger, +And, by one impulse moved, they madly rushed to the door-way. +Vain was the hope of escape; and cries and fierce imprecations +Bang through the house of prayer; and high o'er the heads of the others +Rose, with his arms uplifted, the figure of Basil the blacksmith, +As, on a stormy sea, a spar is tossed by the billows. +Flushed was his face and distorted with passion; and wildly he shouted,-- +"Down with the tyrants of England! we never have sworn them allegiance! +Death to these foreign soldiers, who seize on our homes and our harvests!" +More he fain would have said, but the merciless hand of a soldier +Smote him upon the mouth, and dragged him down to the pavement. + +In the midst of the strife and tumult of angry contention, +Lo! the door of the chancel opened, and Father Felician +Entered, with serious mien, and ascended the steps of the altar. +Raising his reverend hand, with a gesture he awed into silence +All that clamorous throng; and thus he spake to his people; +Deep were his tones and solemn; in accents measured and mournful +Spake he, as, after the tocsin's alarum, distinctly the clock strikes. +"What is this that ye do, my children? what madness has seized you? +Forty years of my life have I labored among you, and taught you, +Not in word alone, but in deed, to love one another! +Is this the fruit of my toils, of my vigils and prayers and privations? +Have you so soon forgotten all lessons of love and forgiveness? +This is the house of the Prince of Peace, and would you profane it +Thus with violent deeds and hearts overflowing with hatred? +Lo! where the crucified Christ from His cross is gazing upon you! +See! in those sorrowful eyes what meekness and holy compassion! +Hark! how those lips still repeat the prayer, 'O Father, forgive them!' +Let us repeat that prayer in the hour when the wicked assail us, +Let us repeat it now, and say, 'O Father, forgive them!'" +Few were his words of rebuke, but deep in the hearts of his people +Sank they, and sobs of contrition succeeded the passionate outbreak, +And they repeated his prayer, and said, "O Father, forgive them!" +Then came the evening service. The tapers gleamed from the altar; +Fervent and deep was the voice of the priest, and the people responded, +Not with their lips alone, but their hearts; and the Ave Maria +Sang they, and fell on their knees, and their souls, with devotion translated, +Rose on the ardor of prayer, like Elijah ascending to heaven. + +Meanwhile had spread in the village the tidings of ill, and on all sides +Wandered, wailing, from house to house the women and children. +Long at her father's door Evangeline stood, with her right hand +Shielding her eyes from the level rays of the sun, that, descending, +Lighted the village street with mysterious splendor and roofed each +Peasant's cottage with golden thatch, and emblazoned its windows. +Long within had been spread the snow-white cloth on the table; +There stood the wheaten loaf, and the honey fragrant with wild flowers; +There stood the tankard of ale, and the cheese fresh brought from the dairy; +And at the head of the board the great arm-chair of the farmer: +Thus did Evangeline wait at her father's door, as the sunset +Threw the long shadows of trees o'er the broad ambrosial meadows. +Ah! on her spirit within a deeper shadow had fallen, +And from the fields of her soul a fragrance celestial ascended,-- +Charity, meekness, love, and hope, and forgiveness, and patience! +Then, all forgetful of self, she wandered into the village, +Cheering with looks and words the disconsolate hearts of the women, +As o'er the darkening fields with lingering steps they departed, +Urged by their household cares, and the weary feet of their children. +Down sank the great red sun, and in golden, glimmering vapors +Veiled the light of his face, like the Prophet descending from Sinai. +Sweetly over the village the bell of the Angelus sounded. + +Meanwhile, amid the gloom, by the church Evangeline lingered. +All was silent within; and in vain at the door and the windows +Stood she, and listened and looked, until, overcome by emotion, +"Gabriel!" cried she aloud with tremulous voice; but no answer +Came from the graves of the dead, nor the gloomier grave of the living. +Slowly at length she returned to the tenantless house of her father. +Smouldered the fire on the hearth, on the board stood the supper untasted. +Empty and drear was each room, and haunted with phantoms of terror. +Sadly echoed her step on the stair and the floor of her chamber. +In the dead of the night she heard the whispering rain fall +Loud on the withered leaves of the sycamore-tree by the window. +Keenly the lightning flashed; and the voice of the echoing thunder +Told her that God was in heaven, and governed the world He created! +Then she remembered the tale she had heard of the justice of Heaven; +Soothed was her troubled soul, and she peacefully slumbered till morning. + + +V. + + +Four times the sun had risen and set; and now on the fifth day +Cheerily called the cock to the sleeping maids of the farm-house. +Soon o'er the yellow fields, in silent and mournful procession, +Came from the neighboring hamlets and farms the Acadian women, +Driving in ponderous wains their household goods to the sea-shore, +Pausing and looking back to gaze once more on their dwellings, +Ere they were shut from sight by the winding road and the wood-land. +Close at their sides their children ran, and urged on the oxen, +While in their little hands they clasped some fragments of playthings. + +Thus to the Gaspereau's mouth they hurried; and there on the sea-beach +Piled in confusion lay the household goods of the peasants. +All day long between the shore and the ships did the boats ply; +All day long the wains came laboring down from the village. +Late in the afternoon, when the sun was near to his setting, +Echoing far o'er the fields came the roll of drums from the churchyard. +Thither the women and children thronged. On a sudden the church-doors +Opened, and forth came the guard, and marching in gloomy procession +Followed the long-imprisoned, but patient, Acadian farmers, +Even as pilgrims, who journey afar from their homes and their country, +Sing as they go, and in singing forget they are weary and wayworn, +So with songs on their lips the Acadian peasants descended +Down from the church to the shore, amid their wives and their daughters. +Foremost the young men came; and, raising together their voices, +Sang they with tremulous lips a chant of the Catholic Missions:-- +"Sacred heart of the Saviour! O inexhaustible fountain! +Fill our hearts this day with strength and submission and patience!" +Then the old men, as they marched, and the women that stood by the wayside +Joined in the sacred psalm, and the birds in the sunshine above them +Mingled their notes therewith, like voices of spirits departed. + +Half-way down to the shore Evangeline waited in silence, +Not overcome with grief, but strong in the hour of affliction,-- +Calmly and sadly waited, until the procession approached her, +And she beheld the face of Gabriel pale with emotion. +Tears then rilled her eyes, and, eagerly running to meet him, +Clasped she his hands, and laid her head on his shoulder, and whispered,-- +"Gabriel! be of good cheer! for if we love one another +Nothing, in truth, can harm us, whatever mischances may happen!" +Smiling she spake these words; then suddenly paused, for her father +Saw she, slowly advancing. Alas! how changed was his aspect! +Gone was the glow from his cheek, and the fire from his eye, and his footstep +Heavier seemed with the weight of the weary heart in his bosom. +But with a smile and a sigh, she clasped his neck and embraced him, +Speaking words of endearment where words of comfort availed not. +Thus to the Gaspereau's mouth moved on that mournful procession. + +There disorder prevailed, and the tumult and stir of embarking. +Busily plied the freighted boats; and in the confusion +Wives were torn from their husbands, and mothers, too late, saw their children +Left on the land, extending their arms, with wildest entreaties. +So unto separate ships were Basil and Gabriel carried, +While in despair on the shore Evangeline stood with her father. +Half the task was not done when the sun went down, and the twilight +Deepened and darkened around; and in haste the refluent ocean' +Fled away from the shore, and left the line of the sand-beach +Covered with waifs of the tide, with kelp and the slippery seaweed. + +Farther back in the midst of the household goods and the wagons, +Like to a gypsy camp, or a leaguer after a battle, +All escape cut off by the sea, and the sentinels near them, +Lay encamped for the night the houseless Acadian farmers. +Back to its nethermost caves retreated the bellowing ocean, +Dragging adown the beach the rattling pebbles, and leaving +Inland and far up the shore the stranded boats of the sailors. +Then, as the night descended, the herds returned from their pastures; +Sweet was the moist still air with the odor of milk from their udders; +Lowing they waited, and long, at the well-known bars of the farm-yard,-- +Waited and looked in vain for the voice and the hand of the milkmaid. +Silence reigned in the streets; from the church no Angelus sounded, +Rose no smoke from the roofs, and gleamed no lights from the windows. + +But on the shores meanwhile the evening fires had been kindled, +Built of the drift-wood thrown on the sands from wrecks in the tempest. +Found them shapes of gloom and sorrowful faces were gathered, +Voices of women were heard, and of men, and the crying of children. +Onward from fire to fire, as from hearth to hearth in his parish, +Wandered the faithful priest, consoling and blessing and cheering, +Like unto shipwrecked Paul on Melita's desolate seashore. +Thus he approached the place where Evangeline sat with her father, +And in the flickering light beheld the face of the old man, +Haggard and hollow and wan, and without either thought or emotion, +E'en as the face of a clock from which the hands have been taken. +Vainly Evangeline strove with words and caresses to cheer him, +Vainly offered him food; yet he moved not, he looked not, he spake not, + +But, with a vacant stare, ever gazed at the flickering fire-light. +_"Benedicite!"_ murmured the priest, in tones of compassion. +More he fain would have said, but his heart was full, and his accents +Faltered and paused on his lips, as the feet of a child on a threshold, +Hushed by the scene he beholds, and the awful presence of sorrow. +Silently, therefore, he laid his hand on the head of the maiden, +Raising his eyes full of tears to the silent stars that above them +Moved on their way, unperturbed by the wrongs and sorrows of mortals. +Then sat he down at her side, and they wept together in silence. + +Suddenly rose from the south a light, as in autumn the blood-red +Moon climbs the crystal walls of heaven, and o'er the horizon +Titan-like stretches its hundred hands upon mountain, and meadow, +Seizing the rocks and the rivers, and piling huge shadows together. +Broader and ever broader it gleamed on the roofs of the village, +Gleamed on the sky and the sea, and the ships that lay in the roadstead. +Columns of shining smoke uprose, and flashes of flame were +Thrust through their folds and withdrawn, like the quivering hands of a martyr. +Then as the wind seized the gleeds and the burning thatch, and, uplifting, +Whirled them aloft through the air, at once from, a hundred house-tops +Started the sheeted smoke with flashes of flame intermingled. + +These things beheld in dismay the crowd on the shore and on shipboard. +Speechless at first they stood, then cried aloud in their anguish, +"We shall behold no more our homes in the village of Grand-Pre!" +Loud on a sudden the cocks began to crow in the farmyards, +Thinking the day had dawned; and anon the lowing of cattle +Came on the evening breeze, by the barking of dogs interrupted. +Then rose a sound of dread, such as startles the sleeping encampments +Far in the western prairies of forests that skirt the Nebraska, +When the wild horses affrighted sweep by with the speed of the whirlwind, +Or the loud bellowing herds of buffaloes rush to the river. +Such was the sound that arose on the night, as the herds and the horses +Broke through their folds and fences, and madly rushed o'er the meadows. + +Overwhelmed with the sight, yet speechless, the priest and the maiden +Gazed on the scene of terror that reddened and widened before them; +And as they turned at length to speak to their silent companion, +Lo! from his seat he had fallen, and stretched abroad on the seashore +Motionless lay his form, from which the soul had departed. +Slowly the priest uplifted the lifeless head, and the maiden +Knelt at her father's side, and wailed aloud in her terror. +Then in a swoon she sank, and lay with her head on his bosom. +Through the long night she lay in deep, oblivious slumber; +And when she woke from the trance, she beheld a multitude near her. +Faces of friends she beheld, that were mournfully gazing upon her, +Pallid, with tearful eyes, and looks of saddest compassion. +Still the blaze of the burning village illumined the landscape, +Reddened the sky overhead, and gleamed on the faces around her, +And like the day of doom it seemed to her wavering senses. +Then a familiar voice she heard, as it said to the people,-- +"Let us bury him here by the sea. When a happier season +Brings us again to our homes from the unknown land of our exile, +Then shall his sacred dust be piously laid in the churchyard." +Such were the words of the priest. And there in haste by the sea-side, +Having the glare of the burning village for funeral torches, +But without bell or book, they buried the farmer of Grand-Pre. +And as the voice of the priest repeated the service of sorrow, +Lo! with, a mournful sound like the voice of a vast congregation, +Solemnly answered the sea, and mingled its roar with the dirges. +'Twas the returning tide, that afar from the waste of the ocean, +With the first dawn of the day, came heaving and hurrying landward. +Then recommenced once more the stir and noise of embarking; +And with the ebb of that tide the ships sailed out of the harbor, +Leaving behind them the dead on the shore, and the village in ruins. + +PART THE SECOND. + +I. + + +Many a weary year had passed since the burning of Grand-Pre, +When on the falling tide the freighted vessels departed, +Bearing a nation, with all its household goods, into exile, +Exile without an end, and without an example in story. +Far asunder, on separate coasts, the Acadians landed; +Scattered were they, like flakes of snow, when the wind from the northeast +Strikes aslant through the fogs that darken the Banks of Newfoundland. +Friendless, homeless, hopeless, they wandered from city to city, +From the cold lakes of the North to sultry Southern savannas,-- +From the bleak shores of the sea to the lands where the Father of Waters +Seizes the hills in his hands, and drags them down to the ocean, +Deep in their sands to bury the scattered bones of the mammoth. +Friends they sought and homes; and many, despairing, heart-broken, +Asked of the earth but a grave, and no longer a friend nor a fireside. +Written their history stands on tablets of stone in the churchyards. +Long among them was seen a maiden who waited and wandered, +Lowly and meek in spirit, and patiently suffering all things. +Fair was she and young; but, alas! before her extended, +Dreary and vast and silent, the desert of life, with its pathway +Marked by the graves of those who had sorrowed and suffered before her, +Passions long extinguished, and hopes long dead and abandoned, +As the emigrant's way o'er the Western desert is marked by +Camp-fires long consumed, and bones that bleach in the sunshine. +Something there was in her life incomplete, imperfect, unfinished; +As if a morning of June, with all its music and sunshine, +Suddenly paused in the sky, and, fading, slowly descended +Into the east again, from whence it late had arisen. +Sometimes she lingered in towns, till, urged by the fever within her, +Urged by a restless longing, the hunger and thirst of the spirit, +She would commence again her endless search and endeavor; +Sometimes in churchyards strayed, and gazed on the crosses and tombstones, +Sat by some nameless grave, and thought that perhaps in its bosom +He was already at rest, and she longed to slumber beside him. +Sometimes a rumor, a hearsay, an inarticulate whisper, +Came with its airy hand to, point and beckon her forward. +Sometimes she spake with those who had seen her beloved and known him, +But it was long ago, in some far-off place or forgotten. +"Gabriel Lajeunesse!" said they; "Oh, yes! we have seen him. +He was with Basil the blacksmith, and both have gone to the prairies; +_Coureurs-des-bois_ are they, and famous hunters and trappers." +"Gabriel Lajeunesse!" said others; "Oh; yes! we have seen him. +He is a _voyageur_ in the lowlands of Louisiana." +Then would they say, "Dear child! why dream and wait for him longer? +Are there not other youths as fair as Gabriel? others +Who have hearts as tender and true, and spirits as loyal? +Here is Baptiste Leblanc, the notary's son, who has loved thee +Many a tedious year; come, give him thy hand and be happy! +Thou art too fair to be left to braid St. Catherine's tresses." +Then would Evangeline answer, serenely but sadly, "I cannot! +Whither my heart has gone, there follows my hand, and not elsewhere. +For when the heart goes before, like a lamp, and illumines the pathway, +Many things are made clear, that else lie hidden in darkness." +And thereupon the priest, her friend and father confessor, +Said, with a smile, "O daughter! thy God thus speaketh within thee! +Talk not of wasted affection, affection never was wasted; +If it enrich not the heart of another, its waters, returning +Back to their springs, like the rain, shall fill them full of refreshment; +That which the fountain sends forth returns again to the fountain. +Patience; accomplish thy labor; accomplish thy work of affection! +Sorrow and silence are strong, and patient endurance is godlike. +Therefore accomplish thy labor of love, till the heart is made godlike, +Purified, strengthened, perfected, and rendered more worthy of heaven!" +Cheered by the good man's words, Evangeline labored and waited. +Still in her heart she heard the funeral dirge of the ocean, +But with its sound there was mingled a voice that whispered, "Despair not!" +Thus did that poor soul wander in want and cheerless discomfort, +Bleeding, barefooted, over the shards and thorns of existence. +Let me essay, O Muse! to follow the wanderer's footsteps;-- +Not through each devious path, each changeful year of existence; +But as a traveler follows a streamlet's course through the valley: +Far from its margin at times, and seeing the gleam of its water +Here and there, in some open space, and at intervals only; +Then drawing nearer its bank, through sylvan glooms that conceal it, +Though he behold it not, he can hear its continuous murmur; +Happy, at length, if he find a spot where it reaches an outlet. + +II. + +It was the month of May. Far down the Beautiful River, +Past the Ohio shore and past the mouth of the Wabash, +Into the golden stream of the broad and swift Mississippi, +Floated a cumbrous boat, that was rowed by Acadian boatmen. +It was a band of exiles: a raft, as it were, from the shipwrecked +Nation, scattered along the coast, now floating together, +Bound by the bonds of a common belief and a common misfortune; +Men and women and children, who, guided by hope or by hearsay, +Sought for their kith and their kin among the few-acred farmers +On the Acadian coast, and the prairies of fair Opelousas. +With them Evangeline went, and her guide, the Father Felician +Onward o'er sunken sands, through a wilderness sombre with forests, +Day after day they glided adown the turbulent river; +Night after night, by their blazing fires, encamped on its borders. +Now through rushing chutes, among green islands, where plumelike +Cotton-trees nodded their shadowy crests, they swept with the current, +Then emerged into broad lagoons, where silvery sandbars +Lay in the stream, and along the wimpling waves of their margin, +Shining with snow-white plumes, large flocks of pelicans waded. +Level the landscape grew, and along the shores of the river, +Shaded by china-trees, in the midst of luxuriant gardens, +Stood the houses of planters, with negro cabins and dove-cots. +They were approaching the region where reigns perpetual summer, +Where through the Golden Coast, and groves of orange and citron, +Sweeps with majestic curve the river away to the eastward. +They, too, swerved from their course; and, entering the Bayou of Plaquemine, +Soon were lost in a maze of sluggish and devious waters, +Which, like a network of steel, extended in every direction. +Over their heads the towering and tenebrous boughs of the cypress +Met in a dusky arch, and trailing mosses in midair +Waved like banners that hang on the walls of ancient cathedrals. +Deathlike the silence seemed, and unbroken, save by the herons +Home to their roosts in the cedar-trees returning at sunset, +Or by the owl, as he greeted the moon with demoniac laughter. +Lovely the moonlight was as it glanced and gleamed on the water, +Gleamed on the columns of cypress and cedar sustaining the arches, +Down through whose broken vaults it fell as through chinks in a ruin. +Dreamlike, and indistinct, and strange were all things around them; +And o'er their spirits there came a feeling of wonder and sadness,-- +Strange forebodings of ill, unseen, and that cannot be compassed. +As, at the tramp of a horse's hoof on the turf of the prairies, +Far in advance are closed the leaves of the shrinking mimosa, +So, at the hoof-beats of fate, with sad forebodings of evil, +Shrinks and closes the heart, ere the stroke of doom has attained it. +But Evangeline's heart was sustained by a vision, that faintly +Floated before her eyes, and beckoned her on through the moonlight. +It was the thought of her brain that assumed the shape of a phantom. +Through those shadowy aisles had Gabriel wandered before her, +And every stroke of the oar now brought him nearer and nearer. + +Then in his place, at the prow of the boat, rose one of the oarsmen, +And, as a signal sound, if others like them peradventure +Sailed on those gloomy and midnight streams, blew a blast on his bugle. +Wild through the dark colonnades and corridors leafy the blast rang, +Breaking the seal of silence and giving tongues to the forest. +Soundless above them the banners of moss just stirred to the music. +Multitudinous echoes awoke and died in the distance, +Over the watery floor, and beneath the reverberant branches; +But not a voice replied; no answer came from the darkness; +And when the echoes had ceased, like a sense of pain was the silence. +Then Evangeline slept; but the boatmen rowed through the midnight, +Silent at times, then singing familiar Canadian boat-songs, +Such as they sang of old on their own Acadian rivers, +And through the night were heard the mysterious sounds of the desert, +Far off,--indistinct,--as of wave or wind in the forest, +Mixed with the whoop of the crane and the roar of the grim alligator. + +Thus ere another noon they emerged from those shades; and before them +Lay, in the golden sun, the lakes of the Atchafalaya. +Water-lilies in myriads rocked on the slight undulations +Made by the passing oars, and, resplendent in beauty, the lotus +Lifted her golden crown above the heads of the boatmen. +Faint was the air with the odorous breath of magnolia blossoms, +And with the heat of noon; and numberless sylvan islands, +Fragrant and thickly embowered with blossoming hedges of roses, +Near to whose shores they glided along, invited to slumber. +Soon by the fairest of these their weary oars were suspended. +Under the boughs of Wachita willows, that grew by the margin, +Safely their boat was moored; and scattered about on the greensward, +Tired with their midnight toil, the weary travelers slumbered. +Over them vast and high extended the cope of a cedar. +Swinging from its great arms, the trumpet-flower and the grapevine +Hung their ladder of ropes aloft like the ladder of Jacob, +On whose pendulous stairs the angels ascending, descending, +Were the swift humming-birds, that flitted from blossom to blossom. +Such was the vision Evangeline saw as she slumbered beneath it. +Filled was her heart with love, and the dawn of an opening heaven +Lighted her soul in sleep with the glory of regions celestial. + +Nearer and ever nearer, among the numberless islands, +Darted a light, swift boat, that sped away o'er the water, +Urged on its course by the sinewy arms of hunters and trappers. +Northward its prow was turned, to the land of the bison and beaver. +At the helm sat a youth, with countenance thoughtful and careworn. +Dark and neglected locks overshadowed his brow, and a sadness +Somewhat beyond his years on his face was legibly written. +Gabriel was it, who, weary with waiting, unhappy and restless, +Sought in the Western wilds oblivion of self and of sorrow. +Swiftly they glided along, close under the lee of the island, +But by the opposite bank, and behind a screen of palmettos; +So that they saw not the boat, where it lay concealed in the willows; +And undisturbed by the dash of their oars, and unseen, were the sleepers; +Angel of God was there none to awaken the slumbering maiden. +Swiftly they glided away, like the shade of a cloud on the prairie. +After the sound of their oars on the tholes had died in the distance, +As from a magic trance the sleepers awoke, and the maiden +Said with a sigh to the friendly priest, "O Father Felician! +Something says in my heart that near me Gabriel wanders. +Is it a foolish dream, an idle and vague superstition? +Or has an angel passed, and revealed the truth to my spirit?" +Then, with a blush, she added, "Alas for my credulous fancy! +Unto ears like thine such words as these have no meaning." +But made answer the reverend man, and he smiled as he answered,-- +"Daughter, thy words are not idle; nor are they to me without meaning, +Feeling is deep and still; and the word that floats on the surface +Is as the tossing buoy, that betrays where the anchor is hidden. +Therefore trust to thy heart, and to what the world calls illusions. +Gabriel truly is near thee; for not far away to the southward, +On the banks of the Teche, are the towns of St. Maur and St. Martin. +There the long-wandering bride shall be given again to her bridegroom, +There the long-absent pastor regain his flock and his sheepfold. +Beautiful is the land, with its prairies and forests of fruit-trees; +Under the feet a garden of flowers, and the bluest of heavens +Bending above, and resting its dome on the walls of the forest. +They who dwell there have named it the Eden of Louisiana." + +And with these words of cheer they arose and continued their journey. +Softly the evening came. The sun from the western horizon +Like a magician extended his golden wand o'er the landscape; +Twinkling vapors arose; and sky and water and forest +Seemed all on fire at the touch, and melted and mingled together. +Hanging between two skies, a cloud with edges of silver, +Floated the boat, with its dripping oars, on the motionless water. +Filled was Evangeline's heart with inexpressible sweetness. +Touched by the magic spell, the sacred fountain of feeling +Glowed with the light of love, as the skies and waters around her. +Then from a neighboring thicket the mocking-bird, wildest of singers, +Swinging aloft on a willow spray that hung o'er the water, +Shook from his little throat such floods of delirious music, +That the whole air and the woods and the waves seemed silent to listen. +Plaintive at first were the tones and sad; then soaring to madness +Seemed they to follow or guide the revel of frenzied Bacchantes. +Single notes were then heard, in sorrowful, low lamentation; +Till, having gathered them all, he flung them abroad in derision, +As when, after a storm, a gust of wind through the tree-tops +Shakes down the rattling rain in a crystal shower on the branches. +With such a prelude as this, and hearts that throbbed with emotion, +Slowly they entered the Teche, where it flows through the green Opelousas, +And, through the amber air, above the crest of the woodland, +Saw the column of smoke that arose from a neighboring dwelling;-- +Sounds of a horn they heard, and the distant lowing of cattle. + +III. + +Near to the bank of the river, o'ershadowed by oaks from whose branches +Garlands of Spanish moss and of mystic mistletoe flaunted, +Such as the Druids cut down with golden hatchets at Yule-tide, +Stood, secluded and still, the house of the herdsman. A garden +Girded it round about with a belt of luxuriant blossoms, +Filling the air with fragrance. The house itself was of timbers +Hewn from the cypress-tree, and carefully fitted together. +Large and low was the roof; and on slender columns supported, +Rose-wreathed, vine-encircled, a broad and spacious veranda, +Haunt of the humming-bird and the bee, extended around it. +At each end of the house, amid the flowers of the garden, +Stationed the dove-cots were, as love's perpetual symbol, +Scenes of endless wooing, and endless contentions of rivals. +Silence reigned o'er the place. The line of shadow and sunshine +Ran near the tops of the trees; but the house itself was in shadow, +And from its chimney-top, ascending and slowly expanding +Into the evening air, a thin blue column of smoke rose. +In the rear of the house, from the garden gate, ran a pathway +Through the great groves of oak to the skirts of the limitless prairie, +Into whose sea of flowers the sun was slowly descending. +Full in his track of light, like ships with shadowy canvas +Hanging loose from their spars in a motionless calm in the tropics, +Stood a cluster of trees, with tangled cordage of grapevines. + +Just where the woodlands met the flowery surf of the prairie, +Mounted upon his horse, with Spanish saddle and stirrups, +Sat a herdsman, arrayed in gaiters and doublet of deerskin. +Broad and brown was the face that from under the Spanish sombrero +Gazed on the peaceful scene, with the lordly look of its master. +Round about him were numberless herds of kine that were grazing +Quietly in the meadows, and breathing the vapory freshness +That uprose from the river, and spread itself over the landscape. +Slowly lifting the horn that hung at his side, and expanding +Fully his broad, deep chest, he blew a blast, that resounded +Wildly and sweet and far, through the still damp air of the evening. +Suddenly out of the grass the long white horns of the cattle +Rose like flakes of foam on the adverse currents of ocean. +Silent a moment they gazed, then bellowing rushed o'er the prairie, +And the whole mass became a cloud, a shade in the distance. +Then, as the herdsman turned to the house, through the gate of the garden +Saw he the forms of the priest and the maiden advancing to meet him. +Suddenly down from his horse he sprang in amazement, and forward +Rushed with extended arms and exclamations of wonder; +When they beheld his face, they recognized Basil the blacksmith. +Hearty his welcome was, as he led his guests to the garden. +There in an arbor of roses with endless question and answer +Gave they vent to their hearts, and renewed their friendly embraces, +Laughing and weeping by turns, or sitting silent and thoughtful. +Thoughtful, for Gabriel came not; and now dark doubts' and misgivings +Stole o'er the maiden's heart; and Basil, somewhat embarrassed, +Broke the silence and said, "If you came by the Atchafalaya, +How have you nowhere encountered my Gabriel's boat on the bayous?" +Over Evangeline's face at the words of Basil a shade passed. +Tears came into her eyes, and she said, with a tremulous accent, +"Gone? is Gabriel gone?" and, concealing her face on his shoulder, +All her o'erburdened heart gave way, and she wept and lamented. +Then the good Basil said,--and his voice grew blithe as he said it,-- +"Be of good cheer, my child; it is only to-day he departed. +Foolish boy! he has left me alone with my herds and my horses, +Moody and restless grown, and tired and troubled, his spirit +Could no longer endure the calm of this quiet existence. +Thinking ever of thee, uncertain and sorrowful ever, +Ever silent, or speaking only of thee and his troubles, +He at length had become so tedious to men and to maidens, +Tedious even to me, that at length I bethought me, and sent him +Unto the town of Adayes to trade for mules with the Spaniards. +Thence he will follow the Indian trails to the Ozark Mountains, +Hunting for furs in the forests, on rivers trapping the beaver. +Therefore be of good cheer; we will follow the fugitive lover; +He is not far on his way, and the Fates and the streams are against him. +Up and away to-morrow, and through the red dew of the morning, +We will follow him fast, and bring him back to his prison." + +Then glad voices were heard, and up from the banks of the river, +Borne aloft on his comrades' arms, came Michael the fiddler. +Long under Basil's roof had he lived, like a god on Olympus, +Having no other care than dispensing music to mortals. +Far renowned was he for his silver locks and his fiddle. +"Long live Michael," they cried, "our brave Acadian minstrel!" +As they bore him aloft in triumphal procession; and straightway +Father Felician advanced with Evangeline, greeting the old man +Kindly and oft, and recalling the past, while Basil, enraptured, +Hailed with hilarious joy his old companions and gossips, +Laughing loud and long, and embracing mothers and daughters. +Much they marveled to see the wealth of the ci-devant blacksmith, +All his domains and his herds, and his patriarchal demeanor; +Much they marveled to hear his tales of the soil and the climate, +And of the prairies, whose numberless herds were his who would take them; +Each one thought in his heart, that he, too, would go and do likewise. +Thus they ascended the steps, and, crossing the breezy veranda, +Entered the hall of the house, where already the supper of Basil +Waited his late return; and they rested and feasted together. + +Over the joyous feast the sudden darkness descended. +All was silent without, and, illuming the landscape with silver, +Fair rose the dewy moon and the myriad stars; but within doors, +Brighter than these, shone the faces of friends in the glimmering lamplight. +Then from his station aloft, at the head of the table, the herdsman +Poured forth his heart and his wine together in endless profusion. +Lighting his pipe, that was filled with sweet Natchitoches tobacco, +Thus he spake to his guests, who listened, and smiled as they listened:-- +"Welcome once more, my friends, who so long have been friendless and homeless, +Welcome once more to a home, that is better perchance than the old one! +Here no hungry winter congeals our blood like the rivers; +Here no stony ground provokes the wrath of the farmer; +Smoothly the ploughshare runs through the soil, as a keel through the water. +All the year round the orange-groves are in blossom; and grass grows +More in a single night than a whole Canadian summer. +Here, too, numberless herds run wild and unclaimed in the prairies; +Here, too, lands may he had for the asking, and forests of timber +With a few blows of the axe are hewn and framed into houses. +After your houses are built, and your fields are yellow with harvests, +No King George of England shall drive you away from your homesteads, +Burning your dwellings and barns, and stealing your farms and your cattle." +Speaking these words, he blew a wrathful cloud from his nostrils, +And his huge, brawny hand came thundering down on the table, +So that the guests all started; and Father Felician, astounded, +Suddenly paused, with a pinch of snuff half-way to his nostrils. +But the brave Basil resumed, and his words were milder and gayer:-- +"Only beware of the fever, my friends, beware of the fever! +For it is not like that of our cold Acadian climate, +Cured by wearing a spider hung round one's neck in a nutshell!" +Then there were voices heard at the door, and footsteps approaching +Sounded upon the stairs and the floor of the breezy Veranda. +It was the neighboring Creoles and small Acadian planters, +Who had been summoned all to the house of Basil the herdsman. +Merry the meeting was of ancient comrades and neighbors: +Friend clasped friend in his arms; and they who before were as strangers, +Meeting in exile, became straightway as friends to each other, +Drawn by the gentle bond of a common country together. +But in the neighboring hall a strain of music, proceeding +From the accordant strings of Michael's melodious fiddle, +Broke up all further speech. Away, like children delighted, +All things forgotten beside, they gave themselves to the maddening +Whirl of the dizzy dance, as it swept and swayed to the music, +Dreamlike, with beaming eyes and the rush of fluttering garments. + +Meanwhile, apart, at the head of the hall, the priest and the herdsman +Sat, conversing together of past and present and future; +While Evangeline stood like one entranced, for within her +Olden memories rose, and loud in the midst of the music +Heard she the sound of the sea, and an irrepressible sadness +Came o'er her heart, and unseen she stole forth into the garden. +Beautiful was the night. Behind the black wall of the forest, +Tipping its summit with silver, arose the moon. On the river +Fell here and there through the branches a tremulous gleam of the moonlight, +Like the sweet thoughts of love on a darkened and devious spirit. +Nearer and round about her, the manifold flowers of the garden +Poured out their souls in odors, that were their prayers and confessions +Unto the night, as it went its way, like a silent Carthusian. +Fuller of fragrance than they, and as heavy with shadows and night-dews, +Hung the heart of the maiden. The calm and the magical moonlight +Seemed to inundate her soul with indefinable longings, +As, through the garden gate, beneath the brown shade of the oak-trees, +Passed she along the path to the edge of the measureless prairie. +Silent it lay, with a silvery haze upon it, and fire-flies +Gleaming and floating away in mingled and infinite numbers. +Over her head the stars, the thoughts of God in the heavens, +Shone on the eyes of man, who had ceased to marvel and worship, +Save when a blazing comet was seen on the walls of that temple, +As if a hand had appeared and written upon them, "Upharsin." +And the soul of the maiden, between the stars and the fire-flies, +Wandered alone, and she cried, "O Gabriel! O my beloved! +Art thou so near unto me, and yet I cannot behold thee? +Art thou so near unto me, and yet thy voice does not reach me? +Ah! how often thy feet have trod this path to the prairie! +Ah! how often thine eyes have looked on the woodlands around me! +Ah! how often beneath this oak, returning from labor, +Thou hast lain, down to rest, and to dream of me in thy slumbers! +When shall these eyes behold, these arms be folded about thee?" +Loud and sudden and near the note of a whippoorwill sounded +Like a flute in the woods; and anon, through the neighboring thickets, +Farther and farther away it floated and dropped into silence. +"Patience!" whispered the oaks from oracular caverns of darkness; +And, from the moonlit meadow, a sigh responded, "To-morrow!" + +Bright rose the sun next day; and all the flowers of the garden +Bathed his shining feet with their tears, and anointed his tresses +With the delicious balm that they bore in their vases of crystal. +"Farewell!" said the priest, as he stood at the shadowy threshold; +"See that you bring us the Prodigal Son from his fasting and famine, +And, too, the Foolish Virgin, who slept when the bridegroom was coming." +"Farewell!" answered the maiden, and, smiling, with Basil descended +Down to the rivers brink, where the boatmen already were waiting. +Thus beginning their journey with morning, and sunshine, and gladness, +Swiftly they followed the flight of him who was speeding before them, +Blown by the blast of fate like a dead leaf over the desert. +Not that day, nor the next, nor yet the day that succeeded, +Found they trace of his course, in lake or forest or river, +Nor, after many days, had they found him; but vague and uncertain +Rumors alone were their guides through a wild and desolate country; +Till, at the little inn of the Spanish town of Adayes, +Weary and worn, they alighted, and learned from the garrulous landlord +That on the day before, with horses and guides and companions, +Gabriel left the village, and took the road of the prairies. + +IV. + +Far in the West there lies a desert land, where the mountains +Lift, through perpetual snows, their lofty and luminous summits. +Down from their jagged, deep ravines, where the gorge, like a gateway, +Opens a passage rude to the wheels of the emigrant's wagon, +Westward the Oregon flows and the Walleway and Owyhee. +Eastward, with devious course, among the Wind-river Mountains, +Through the Sweet-water Valley precipitate leaps the Nebraska; +And to the south, from Fontaine-qui-bout and the Spanish sierras, +Fretted with sands and rocks, and swept by the wind of the desert, +Numberless torrents, with ceaseless sound, descend to the ocean, +Like the great chords of a harp, in loud and solemn vibrations. +Spreading between these streams are the wondrous, beautiful prairies, +Billowy bays of grass ever rolling in shadow and sunshine, +Bright with luxuriant clusters of roses and purple amorphas. +Over them wander the buffalo herds, and the elk and the roebuck; +Over them wander the wolves, and herds of riderless horses; +Fires that blast and blight, and winds that are weary with travel; +Over them wander the scattered tribes of Ishmael's children, +Staining the desert with blood; and above their terrible wartrails +Circles and sails aloft, on pinions majestic, the vulture, +Like the implacable soul of a chieftain slaughtered in battle, +By invisible stairs ascending and scaling the heavens. +Here and there rise smokes from the camps of these savage marauders; +Here and there rise groves from the margins of swift-running rivers; +And the grim, taciturn bear, the anchorite monk of the desert, +Climbs down their dark ravines to dig for roots by the brookside, +And over all is the sky, the clear and crystalline heaven, +Like the protecting hand of God inverted above them. + +Into this wonderful land, at the base of the Ozark Mountains, +Gabriel far had entered, with hunters and trappers behind him. +Day after day, with their Indian guides, the maiden and Basil +Followed his flying steps, and thought each day to o'ertake him. +Sometimes they saw, or thought they saw, the smoke of his camp-fire +Rise in the morning air from the distant plain; but at nightfall, +When they had reached the place, they found only embers and ashes. +And, though their hearts were sad at times and their bodies were weary, +Hope still guided them on, as the magic Fata Morgana +Showed them her lakes of light, that retreated and vanished before them. + +Once, as they sat by their evening fire, there silently entered +Into the little camp an Indian woman, whose features +Wore deep traces of sorrow, and patience as great as her sorrow. +She was a Shawnee woman returning home to her people, +From the far-off hunting grounds of the cruel Comanches, +Where her Canadian husband, a coureur-des-bois, had been murdered. +Touched were their hearts at her story, and warmest and friendliest welcome +Gave they, with words of cheer, and she sat and feasted among them +On the buffalo-meat and the venison cooked on the embers. +But when their meal was done, and Basil and all his companions, +Worn with the long day's march and the chase of the deer and the bison, +Stretched themselves on the ground, and slept where the quivering fire-light +Flashed on their swarthy cheeks, and their forms wrapped up in their blankets, +Then at the door of Evangeline's tent she sat and repeated +Slowly, with soft, low voice, and the charm of her Indian accent, +All the tale of her love, with its pleasures, and pains, and reverses. +Much Evangeline wept at the tale, and to know that another +Hapless heart like her own had loved and had been disappointed. +Moved to the depths of her soul by pity and woman's compassion, +Yet in her sorrow pleased that one who had suffered was near her, +She in turn related her love and all its disasters. +Mute with wonder the Shawnee sat, and when she had ended +Still was mute; but at length, as if a mysterious horror +Passed through her brain, she spake, and repeated the tale of the Mowis; +Mowis, the bridegroom of snow, who won and wedded a maiden, +But, when the morning came, arose and passed from the wigwam, +Fading and melting away and dissolving into the sunshine, +Till she beheld him no more, though she followed far into the forest. +Then, in those sweet, low tones, that seemed like a weird incantation, +Told she the tale of the fair Lilinau, who was wooed by a phantom, +That, through the pines o'er her father's lodge, in the hush of the twilight, +Breathed like the evening wind, and whispered love to the maiden, +Till she followed his green and waving plume through the forest, +And nevermore returned, nor was seen again by her people. +Silent with wonder and strange surprise, Evangeline listened +To the soft flow of her magical words, till the region around her +Seemed like enchanted ground, and her swarthy guest the enchantress. +Slowly over the tops of the Ozark Mountains the moon rose, +Lighting the little tent, and with a mysterious splendor +Touching the sombre leaves, and embracing and filling the woodland. +With a delicious sound the brook rushed by, and the branches +Swayed and sighed overhead in scarcely audible whispers. +Filled with the thoughts of love was Evangeline's heart, but a secret, +Subtile sense crept in of pain and indefinite terror, +As the cold, poisonous snake creeps into the nest of the swallow. +It was no earthly fear. A breath from the region, of spirits +Seemed to float in the air of night; and she felt for a moment +That, like the Indian maid, she, too, was pursuing a phantom. +And with this thought she slept, and the fear and the phantom had vanished. + +Early upon the morrow the march was resumed, and the Shawnee +Said, as they journeyed along,--"On the western slope of these mountains +Dwells in his little village the Black Robe chief of the Mission. +Much he teaches the people, and tells them of Mary and Jesus; +Loud laugh their hearts with joy, and weep with pain, as they hear him." +Then, with a sudden and secret emotion, Evangeline answered, +"Let us go to the Mission, for there good tidings await us!" +Thither they turned their steeds; and behind a spur of the mountains, +Just as the sun went down, they heard a murmur of voices, +And in a meadow green and broad, by the bank of a river, +Saw the tents of the Christians, the tents of the Jesuit Mission. +Under a towering oak, that stood in the midst of the village, +Knelt the Black Robe chief with his children. A crucifix fastened +High on the trunk of the tree, and overshadowed by grapevines, +Looked with its agonized face on the multitude kneeling beneath it. +This was their rural chapel. Aloft, through the intricate arches +Of its aerial roof, arose the chant of their vespers, +Mingling its notes with the soft susurrus and sighs of the branches. +Silent, with heads uncovered, the travelers, nearer approaching, +Knelt on the swarded floor, and joined in the evening devotions. +But when the service was done, and the benediction had fallen +Forth from the hands of the priest, like seed from the hands of the sower, +Slowly the reverend man advanced to the strangers, and bade them +Welcome; and when they replied, he smiled with benignant expression, +Hearing the homelike sounds of his mother-tongue in the forest, +And, with words of kindness, conducted them into his wigwam. +There upon mats and skins they reposed, and on cakes of the maize-ear +Feasted, and slaked their thirst from the water-gourd of the teacher. +Soon was their story told; and the priest with solemnity answered:-- +"Not six suns have risen and set since Gabriel, seated +On this mat by my side, where now the maiden reposes, +Told me this same sad tale; then arose and continued his journey!" +Soft was the voice of the priest, and he spake with an accent of kindness; +But on Evangeline's heart fell his words as in winter the snowflakes +Fall into some lone nest from which the birds have departed. +"Far to the north he has gone," continued the priest; "but in autumn, +When the chase is done, will return again to the Mission." +Then Evangeline said, and her voice was meek and submissive, +"Let me remain with thee, for my soul is sad and afflicted." +So seemed it wise and well unto all; and betimes on the morrow, +Mounting his Mexican steed, with his Indian guides and companions, +Homeward Basil returned, and Evangeline stayed at the Mission. + +Slowly, slowly, slowly the days succeeded each other,-- +Days and weeks and months; and the fields of maize that were springing +Green from the ground when a stranger she came, now waving about her, +Lifted their slender shafts, with leaves interlacing, and forming +Cloisters for mendicant crows and granaries pillaged by squirrels. +Then in the golden weather the maize was husked, and the maidens +Blushed at each blood-red ear, for that betokened a lover, +But at the crooked laughed, and called it a thief in the cornfield. +Even the blood-red ear to Evangeline brought not her lover. +"Patience!" the priest would say; "have faith, and thy prayer will be answered! +Look at this delicate plant that lifts its head from the meadow, +See how its leaves all point to the north, as true as the magnet; +It is the compass-flower, that the finger of God has suspended +Here on its fragile stalk to direct the traveler's journey +Over the sea-like, pathless, limitless waste of the desert. +Such in the soul of man is faith. The blossoms of passion, +Gay and luxuriant flowers, are brighter and fuller of fragrance, +But they beguile us, and lead us astray, and their odor is deadly. +Only this humble plant can guide us here, and hereafter +Crown us with asphodel flowers, that are wet with the dews of nepenthe." + +So came the autumn, and passed, and the winter--yet Gabriel came not; +Blossomed the opening spring, and the notes of the robin and bluebird +Sounded sweet upon wold and in wood, yet Gabriel came not. +But on the breath of the summer winds a rumor was wafted +Sweeter than song of bird, or hue or odor of blossom. +Far to the north and east, it said, in the Michigan forests, +Gabriel had his lodge by the banks of the Saginaw River. +And, with returning guides, that sought the lakes of St. Lawrence, +Saying a sad farewell, Evangeline went from the Mission. +When over weary ways, by long and perilous marches, +She had attained at length the depths of the Michigan forests, +Found she the hunter's lodge deserted and fallen to ruin! + +Thus did the long sad years glide on, and in seasons and places +Divers and distant far was seen the wandering maiden;-- +Now in the Tents of Grace of the meek Moravian Missions, +Now in the noisy camps and the battle-fields of the army, +Now in secluded hamlets, in towns and populous cities. +Like a phantom she came, and passed away unremembered. +Fair was she and young, when in hope began the long journey; +Faded was she and old, when in disappointment it ended. +Each succeeding year stole something away from her beauty, +Leaving behind it, broader and deeper, the gloom and the shadow. +Then there appeared and spread faint streaks of gray o'er her forehead, +Dawn of another life, that broke o'er her earthly horizon, +As in the eastern sky the first faint streaks of the morning. + +V. + + +In that delightful land which is washed by the Delaware's waters, +Guarding in sylvan shades the name of Penn the apostle, +Stands on the banks of its beautiful stream the city he founded. +There all the air is balm, and the peach is the emblem of beauty, +And the streets still re-echo the names of the trees of the forest, +As if they fain would appease the Dryads whose haunts they molested. +There from the troubled sea had Evangeline landed, an exile, +Finding among the children of Penn a home and a country. +There old Rene Leblanc had died; and when he departed, +Saw at his side only one of all his hundred descendants. +Something at least there was in the friendly streets of the city, +Something that spake to her heart, and made her no longer a stranger; +And her ear was pleased with the Thee and Thou of the Quakers, +For it recalled the past, the old Acadian country, +Where all men were equal, and all were brothers and sisters. +So, when the fruitless search, the disappointed endeavor, +Ended, to recommence no more upon earth, uncomplaining, +Thither, as leaves to the light, were turned her thoughts and her footsteps. +As from a mountain's top the rainy mists of the morning +Roll away, and afar we behold the landscape below us, +Sun-illumined, with shining rivers and cities and hamlets, +So fell the mists from her mind, and she saw the world far below her, +Dark no longer, but all illumined with love; and the pathway +Which she had climbed so far, lying smooth and fair in the distance. +Gabriel was not forgotten. Within her heart was his image, +Clothed in the beauty of love and youth, as last she beheld him, +Only more beautiful made by his deathlike silence and absence. +Into her thoughts of him time entered not, for it was not. +Over him years had no power; he was not changed, but transfigured; +He had become to her heart as one who is dead, and not absent; +Patience and abnegation of self, and devotion to others, +This was the lesson a life of trial and sorrow had taught her. +So was her love diffused, but, like to some odorous spices, +Suffered no waste nor loss, though filling the air with aroma. +Other hope had she none, nor wish in life, but to follow, +Meekly with reverent steps, the sacred feet of her Saviour. +Thus many years she lived as a Sister of Mercy; frequenting +Lonely and wretched roofs in the crowded lanes of the city, +Where distress and want concealed themselves from the sunlight. +Where disease and sorrow in garrets languished neglected. +Night after night when the world was asleep, as the watchman repeated +Loud, through the gusty streets, that all was well in the city, +High at some lonely window he saw the light of her taper. +Day after day, in the gray of the dawn, as slow through the suburbs +Plodded the German farmer, with flowers and fruits for the market, +Met he that meek, pale face, returning home from its watchings. + +Then it came to pass that a pestilence fell on the city, +Presaged by wondrous signs, and mostly by flocks of wild pigeons, +Darkening the sun in their flight, with naught in their craws but an acorn. +And, as the tides of the sea arise in the month of September, +Flooding some silver stream, till it spreads to a lake in the meadow, +So death flooded life, and, o'erflowing its natural margin, +Spread to a brackish lake the silver stream of existence. +Wealth had no power to bribe, nor beauty to charm, the oppressor; +But all perished alike beneath the scourge of his anger;-- +Only, alas! the poor, who had neither friends nor attendants, +Crept away to die in the almshouse, home of the homeless. +Then in the suburbs it stood, in the midst of meadows and woodlands;-- +Now the city surrounds it; but still, with its gateway and wicket +Meek, in the midst of splendor, its humble walls seem to echo +Softly the words of the Lord:--"The poor ye always have with you." +Thither, by night and by day, came the Sister of Mercy. The dying +Looked up into her face, and thought, indeed, to behold there +Gleams of celestial light encircle her forehead with splendor, +Such as the artist paints o'er the brows of saints and apostles, +Or such as hangs by night o'er a city seen at a distance. +Unto their eyes it seemed the lamps of the city celestial, +Into whose shining gates erelong their spirits would enter. + +Thus, on a Sabbath morn, through the streets, deserted and silent, +Wending her quiet way, she entered the door of the almshouse. +Sweet on the summer air was the odor of flowers in the garden, +And she paused on her way to gather the fairest among them, +That the dying once more might rejoice in their fragrance and beauty. +Then, as she mounted the stairs to the corridors, cooled by the east-wind, +Distant and soft on her ear fell the chimes from the belfry of Christ Church, +While, intermingled with these, across the meadows were wafted +Sounds of psalms, that were sung by the Swedes in their church at Wicaco. +Soft as descending wings fell the calm of the hour on her spirit; +Something within her said, "At length thy trials are ended;" +And, with light in her looks, she entered the chambers of sickness. +Noiselessly moved about the assiduous, careful attendants, +Moistening the feverish lip, and the aching brow, and in silence +Closing the sightless eyes of the dead, and concealing their faces, +Where on their pallets they lay, like drifts of snow by the roadside. +Many a languid head, upraised as Evangeline entered, +Turned on its pillow of pain to gaze while she passed, for her presence +Fell on their hearts like a ray of the sun on the walls of a prison. +And, as she looked around, she saw how Death, the consoler, +Laying his hand upon many a heart, had healed it forever. +Many familiar forms had disappeared in the night time; +Vacant their places were, or filled already by strangers. + +Suddenly, as if arrested by fear or a feeling of wonder, +Still she stood, with her colorless lips apart, while a shudder +Ran through her frame, and, forgotten, the flowerets dropped from her fingers, +And from her eyes and cheeks the light and bloom of the morning. +Then there escaped from her lips a cry of such terrible anguish, +That the dying heard it, and started up from their pillows. +On the pallet before her was stretched the form of an old man. +Long, and thin, and gray were the locks that shaded his temples; +But, as he lay in the morning light, his face for a moment +Seemed to assume once more the forms of its earlier manhood; +So are wont to be changed the faces of those who are dying. +Hot and red on his lips still burned the flush of the fever, +As if life, like the Hebrew, with blood had besprinkled its portals, +That the Angel of Death might see the sign, and pass over. +Motionless, senseless, dying, he lay, and his spirit exhausted +Seemed to be sinking down through infinite depths in the darkness, +Darkness of slumber and death, forever sinking and sinking. +Then through those realms of shade, in multiplied reverberations, +Heard he that cry of pain, and through the hush that succeeded +Whispered a gentle voice, in accents tender and saintlike, +"Gabriel! O my beloved!" and died away into silence. +Then he beheld, in a dream, once more the home of his childhood; +Green Acadian meadows, with sylvan rivers among them, +Village, and mountain, and woodlands; and, walking under their shadow, +As in the days of her youth, Evangeline rose in his vision. +Tears came into his eyes; and as slowly he lifted his eyelids, +Vanished the vision away, but Evangeline knelt by his bedside. +Vainly he strove to whisper her name, for the accents unuttered +Died on his lips, and their motion revealed what his tongue would have spoken. +Vainly he strove to rise; and Evangeline, kneeling beside him, +Kissed his dying lips, and laid his head on her bosom. +Sweet was the light of his eyes; but it suddenly sank into darkness, +As when a lamp is blown out by a gust of wind at a casement. + +All was ended now, the hope, and the fear, and the sorrow, +All the aching of heart, the restless, unsatisfied longing, +All the dull, deep pain, and constant anguish of patience! +And, as she pressed once more the lifeless head to her bosom, +Meekly she bowed her own, and murmured, "Father, I thank thee!" + +Still stands the forest primeval; but far away from its shadow, +Side by side, in their nameless graves, the lovers are sleeping. +Under the humble walls of the little Catholic churchyard, +In the heart of the city, they lie, unknown and unnoticed. +Daily the tides of life go ebbing and flowing beside them, +Thousands of throbbing hearts, where theirs are at rest and forever, +Thousands of aching brains, where theirs no longer are busy, +Thousands of toiling hands, where theirs have ceased from their labors, +Thousands of weary feet, where theirs have completed their journey! + +Still stands the forest primeval; but under the shade of its branches +Dwells another race, with other customs and language. +Only along the shore of the mournful and misty Atlantic +Linger a few Acadian peasants, whose fathers from exile +Wandered back to their native land to die in its bosom. +In the fisherman's cot the wheel and the loom are still busy; +Maidens still wear their Norman caps and their kirtles of homespun, +And by the evening fire repeat Evangeline's story, +While from its rocky caverns the deep-voiced, neighboring ocean +Speaks, and in accents disconsolate answers the wail of the forest. + + + +HELPS TO STUDY. + +Historical: The early history of Nova Scotia records the conflict for +supremacy between the French and the English. By the French the country was +called Acadie, The Acadians were essentially French in blood and in their +sympathies, though the English were from time to time in authority over the +country. At one time the English demanded an oath of allegiance from the +Acadians. This they refused unless it should be so modified as to exempt +them from bearing arms against France. It was finally decided to remove the +Acadians from the country, scattering them throughout the colonies in such +a way as to prevent their concerted action in attempting to return to their +homes. Accordingly they were driven on board the English transports and +three thousand of them sent out of the country. In the confusion incident +to their removal, families and friends were separated, in many cases never +to meet again. The story of Evangeline is a recital of such separation. + + +Notes and Questions. + +Into what parts is the poem divided? + +With what does Part First deal? Part Second? + +What purpose do the introductory lines to Part First serve? + +Which lines give you the best picture of Acadie? + +Which lines best describe the Acadians? + +Explain: "There the richest was poor, and the poorest lived in abundance." + +What characteristics had Evangeline? Find lines that tell you. + +What picture does the poem give you of the home of Evangeline? + +Who was Gabriel? + +Describe the visit of Basil and Gabriel. + +What were the characteristics of Father Leblanc? + +Which lines in Longfellow's description of the contract and the evening +scene at the farmer's are the most beautiful? + +Describe the betrothal feast in your own words. + +What message did the voice of the thunder convey to Evangeline? + +Describe in your own words the embarkation, and the death of Evangeline's +father. + +Note the devotion of Evangeline as shown in her wanderings in search of +Gabriel in the United States: The visit of Evangeline to the Acadian +settlement in Louisiana, the southern home of Basil; Evangeline and Basil +follow Gabriel to the West; Evangeline as a Sister of Mercy in +Philadelphia; Gabriel found dying; The concluding stanza of the poem. + +Which of the above descriptions impressed you most? Which is most pathetic? +Which do you like best? + +Trace the journeyings of Evangeline on your map. + +Find the lines that describe the burning of Grand-Pre. What can you say +about this description? + +In this poem there are many beautiful descriptions. What kinds of scenery +are described? What kinds of people are described? + +What had a life of sorrow taught Evangeline? Which lines tell you? + +What led her to devote herself to the service of others? + +What finally became her sole hope and wish? + +Why does this poem endure? Do you like it? Why? + +Which lines do you think are most beautiful? + + +Words and Phrases for Discussion. + +"This is the forest primeval" + +"Naught but tradition remains of Grand Pre" + +"List to a Tale of Love in Acadie, home of the happy" + +"Darkened by shadows of earth, but reflecting an image of heaven" + +"Under the open sky, in the odorous air of the orchard" + +"Fairest of all the maids was Evangeline, Benedict's daughter Noblest of +all the youths was Gabriel, son of the blacksmith" + + * * * * * + + + +THE BUILDING OF THE SHIP + +HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW + + + "Build me straight, O worthy Master! + Staunch and strong, a goodly vessel, + That shall laugh at all disaster, + And with wave and whirlwind wrestle!" + + The merchant's word + Delighted the Master heard; + For his heart was in his work, and the heart + Giveth grace unto every Art. + A quiet smile played round his lips, + As the eddies and dimples of the tide + Play round the bows of ships, + That steadily at anchor ride. + And with a voice that was full of glee, + He answered, "Ere long we will launch + A vessel as goodly, and strong, and staunch, + As ever weathered a wintry sea!" + And first with nicest skill and art, + Perfect and finished in every part, + A little model the Master wrought, + Which should be to the larger plan + What the child is to the man, + Its counterpart in miniature; + That with a hand more swift and sure + The greater labor might be brought + To answer to his inward thought. + And as he labored his mind ran o'er + The various ships that were built of yore, + And above them all, and strangest of all, + Towered the Great Harry, crank and tall, + Whose picture was hanging on the wall, + With bows and stern raised high in air, + And balconies hanging here and there, + And signal lanterns and flags afloat, + And eight round towers, like those that frown + From some old castle, looking down + Upon the drawbridge and the moat, + And he said, with a smile, "Our ship, I wis, + Shall be of another form than this!" + + It was of another form, indeed; + Built for freight, and yet for speed, + A beautiful and gallant craft; + Broad in the beam, that the stress of the blast, + Pressing down upon sail and mast, + Might not the sharp bows overwhelm; + Broad in the beam, but sloping aft + With graceful curve and slow degrees, + That she might be docile to the helm, + And that the currents of parted seas, + Closing behind, with mighty force, + Might aid and not impede her course. + + In the ship-yard stood the Master, + With the model of the vessel, + That should laugh at all disaster, + And with wave and whirlwind wrestle! + + Covering many a rood of ground, + Lay the timber piled around; + Timber of chestnut, and elm, and oak, + And scattered here and there, with these, + The knarred and crooked cedar knees; + Brought from regions far away, + From Pascagoula's sunny bay, + And the banks of the roaring Roanoke! + Ah! what a wondrous thing it is + To note how many wheels of toil + One thought, one word, can set in motion! + There's not a ship that sails the ocean, + But every climate, every soil, + Must bring its tribute, great or small, + + And help to build the wooden wall! + The sun was rising o'er the sea, + And long the level shadows lay, + As if they, too, the beams would be + Of some great, airy argosy, + Framed and launched in a single day, + That silent architect, the sun, + Had hewn and laid them every one, + Ere the work of man was yet begun. + Beside the Master, when he spoke, + A youth, against an anchor leaning, + Listened, to catch his slightest meaning. + Only the long waves, as they broke + In ripples on the pebbly beach, + Interrupted the old man's speech. + + Beautiful they were, in sooth, + The old man and the fiery youth! + The old man, in whose busy brain + Many a ship that sailed the main + Was modelled o'er and o'er again;-- + The fiery youth, who was to be + The heir of his dexterity, + The heir of his house, and his daughter's hand, + When he had built and launched from land + What the elder head had planned. + + "Thus," said he, "will we build this ship! + Lay square the blocks upon the slip, + And follow well this plan of mine. + Choose the timbers with greatest care; + Of all that is unsound beware; + For only what is sound and strong + To this vessel shall belong. + Cedar of Maine and Georgia pine + Here together shall combine. + A goodly frame, and a goodly fame, + And the UNION be her name! + For the day that gives her to the sea + Shall give my daughter unto thee!" + + The Master's word + Enraptured the young man heard; + And as he turned his face aside, + With a look of joy and a thrill of pride, + Standing before + Her father's door, + He saw the form of his promised bride. + The sun shone on her golden hair, + And her cheek was glowing fresh and fair, + With the breath of morn and the soft sea air. + Like a beauteous barge was she, + Still at rest on the sandy beach, + Just beyond the billow's reach; + But he + Was the restless, seething, stormy sea! + Ah, how skilful grows the hand + That obeyeth Love's command! + It is the heart, and not the brain, + That to the highest doth attain, + And he who followeth Love's behest + Far exceedeth all the rest! + + Thus with the rising of the sun + Was the noble task begun, + And soon throughout the ship-yard's bounds + Were heard the intermingled sounds + Of axes and of mallets, plied + With vigorous arms on every side; + Plied so deftly and so well, + That, ere the shadows of evening fell, + The keel of oak for a noble ship, + Scarfed and bolted, straight and strong, + Was lying ready, and stretched along + The blocks, well placed upon the slip. + Happy, thrice happy, every one + Who sees his labor well begun, + And not perplexed and multiplied, + By idly waiting for time and tide! + And when the hot, long day was o'er, + The young man at the Master's door + Sat with the maiden calm and still, + And within the porch, a little more + Removed beyond the evening chill, + The father sat, and told them tales + Of wrecks in the great September gales, + Of pirates upon the Spanish Main, + And ships that never came back again, + The chance and change of a sailor's life, + Want and plenty, rest and strife, + His roving fancy, like the wind, + That nothing can stay and nothing can bind, + And the magic charm of foreign lands, + With shadows of palms, and shining sands, + Where the tumbling surf, + O'er the coral reefs of Madagascar, + Washes the feet of the swarthy Lascar, + As he lies alone and asleep on the turf. + And the trembling maiden held her breath + At the tales of that awful, pitiless sea, + With all its terror and mystery, + The dim dark sea, so like unto Death, + That divides and yet unites mankind! + And whenever the old man paused, a gleam + From the bowl of his pipe would awhile illume + The silent group in the twilight gloom, + And thoughtful faces, as in a dream; + And for a moment one might mark + What had been hidden by the dark, + That the head of the maiden lay at rest + Tenderly, on the young man's breast! + + Day by day the vessel grew, + With timbers fashioned strong and true, + Sternson and keelson and sternson-knee, + Till, framed with perfect symmetry, + A skeleton ship rose up to view! + And around the bows and along the side + The heavy hammers and mallets plied, + Till after many a week, at length, + Wonderful for form and strength, + Sublime in its enormous bulk, + Loomed aloft the shadowy hulk! + And around it columns of smoke, upwreathing, + Rose from the boiling, bubbling, seething, + Cauldron, that glowed, + And overflowed, + With the black tar, heated for the sheathing. + And amid the clamors + Of clattering hammers, + He who listened heard now and then + The song of the Master and his men:-- + + "Build me straight, O worthy Master, + Staunch and strong, a goodly vessel, + That shall laugh at all disaster, + And with wave and whirlwind wrestle!" + + With oaken brace and copper band, + Lay the rudder on the sand, + That, like a thought, should have control + Over the movement of the whole; + And near it the anchor, whose giant hand + Would reach down and grapple with the land, + And immovable and fast + Hold the great ship against the bellowing blast! + And at the bows an image stood, + By a cunning artist carved in wood, + With robes of white, that far behind + Seemed to be fluttering in the wind. + It was not shaped in a classic mould, + Not like a Nymph or Goddess of old, + Or Naiad rising from the water, + But modeled from the Master's daughter. + On many a dreary and misty night, + 'T will be seen by the rays of the signal light, + Speeding along through the rain and the dark, + Like a ghost in its snow-white sark, + The pilot of some phantom hark, + Guiding the vessel, in its flight, + By a path none other knows aright! + + Behold, at last, + Each tall and tapering mast + Is swung into its place; + Shrouds and stays + Holding it firm and fast! + Long ago, + In the deer-haunted forests of Maine, + When upon mountain and plain + Lay the snow, + They fell,--those lordly pines! + Those grand, majestic pines! + 'Mid shouts and cheers + The jaded steers, + Panting beneath the goad, + Dragged down the weary, winding road + Those captive kings so straight and tall, + To be shorn of their streaming hair, + And, naked and bare, + To feel the stress and the strain + Of the wind and the reeling main, + Whose roar + Would remind them for evermore + Of their native forests they should not see again. + + And everywhere + The slender, graceful spars + Poise aloft in the air, + And at the mast-head, + White, blue, and red, + A flag unrolls the Stripes and Stars. + Ah! when the wanderer, lonely, friendless, + In foreign harbors shall behold + That flag unrolled, + 'T will be as a friendly hand + Stretched out from his native land, + Filling his heart with memories sweet and endless! + + All is finished! and at length + Has come the bridal day + Of beauty and of strength. + To-day the vessel shall be launched! + With fleecy clouds the sky is blanched, + And o'er the bay, + Slowly, in all his splendors dight, + The great sun rises to behold the sight. + The ocean old, + Centuries old, + Strong as youth, and as uncontrolled, + Paces restless to and fro, + Up and down the sands of gold. + His beating heart is not at rest; + And far and wide, + With ceaseless flow, + His beard of snow + Heaves with the heaving of his breast. + + He waits impatient for his bride. + There she stands, + With her foot upon the sands, + Decked with flags and streamers gay, + In honor of her marriage day, + Her snow-white signals fluttering, blending, + Bound her like a veil descending, + Ready to be + The bride of the gray old sea. + + On the deck another bride + Is standing by her lover's side. + Shadows from the flags and shrouds, + Like the shadows cast by clouds, + Broken by many a sunny fleck, + Fall around them on the deck. + + The prayer is said, + The service read, + The joyous bridegroom bows his head; + And in tears the good old Master + Shakes the brown hand of his son, + Kisses his daughter's glowing cheek + In silence, for he cannot speak, + And ever faster + Down his own the tears begin to run. + The worthy pastor-- + The shepherd of that wandering flock, + That has the ocean for its wold, + That has the vessel for its fold, + Leaping ever from rock to rock-- + Spake, with accents mild and clear, + Words of warning, words of cheer, + But tedious to the bridegroom's ear. + He knew the chart + Of the sailor's heart, + All its pleasures and its griefs, + All its shallows and rocky reefs, + All those secret currents, that flow + With such resistless undertow, + And lift and drift, with terrible force, + The will from its moorings and its course. + + Therefore he spake, and thus said he:-- + "Like unto ships far off at sea, + Outward or homeward bound, are we, + Before, behind, and all around, + Floats and swings the horizon's bound, + Seems at its distant rim to rise + And climb the crystal wall of the skies, + And then again to turn and sink, + As if we could slide from its outer brink. + Ah! it is not the sea, + It is not the sea that sinks and shelves, + But ourselves + That rock and rise + With endless and uneasy motion, + Now touching the very skies, + Now sinking into the depths of ocean. + Ah! if our souls but poise and swing + Like the compass in its brazen ring, + Ever level and ever true + To the toil and the task we have to do, + We shall sail securely, and safely reach + The Fortunate Isles, on whose shining beach + The sights we see, and the sounds we hear, + Will be those of joy and not of fear!" + + Then the Master, + With a gesture of command, + Waved his hand; + And at the word, + Loud and sudden there was heard, + All around them and below, + The sound of hammers, blow on blow, + Knocking away the shores and spurs. + And see! she stirs! + She starts,--she moves,--she seems to feel + The thrill of life along her keel, + And, spurning with her foot the ground, + With one exulting, joyous bound, + She leaps into the ocean's arms! + + And lo! from the assembled crowd + There rose a shout, prolonged and loud, + That to the ocean seemed to say, + "Take her, Oh bridegroom, old and gray, + Take her to thy protecting arms, + With all her youth and all her charms!" + + How beautiful she is! How fair + She lies within those arms, that press + Her form with many a soft caress + Of tenderness and watchful care! + Sail forth into the sea, O ship! + Through wind and wave, right onward steer! + The moistened eye, the trembling lip, + Are not the signs of doubt or fear. + + Sail forth into the sea of life, + O gentle, loving, trusting wife, + And safe from all adversity + Upon the bosom of that sea + Thy comings and thy goings be! + For gentleness and love and trust + Prevail o'er angry wave and gust; + And in the wreck of noble lives + Something immortal still survives! + + Thou, too, sail on, O Ship of State! + Sail on, O UNION, strong and great! + Humanity with all its fears, + With all the hopes of future years, + Is hanging breathless on thy fate! + We know what Master laid thy keel, + What Workmen wrought thy ribs of steel, + Who made each mast, and sail, and rope, + What anvils rang, what hammers beat, + In what a forge and what a heat + Were shaped the anchors of thy hope! + Fear not each sudden sound and shock, + 'T is of the wave and not the rock; + 'T is but the flapping of the sail, + And not a rent made by the gale! + In spite of rock and tempest's roar, + In spite of false lights on the shore, + Sail on, nor fear to breast the sea! + Our hearts, our hopes, are all with thee, + Our hearts, our hopes, our prayers, our tears, + Our faith triumphant o'er our fears, + Are all with thee,--are all with thee! + + + +HELPS TO STUDY. + + +Notes and Questions. + +Quote the lines that tell the kind of ship the Master is to build. + +What comparison does the Master use in speaking of the model? + +What does Longfellow say that one thought can do? + +Explain lines 84 to 93. + +Account for the name given the ship by the Master. + +Describe the daughter in your own words. + +Explain: "It is the heart, and not the brain, That to the highest doth +attain." + +Quote the song of the Master and his men. + +What uses are assigned to each of the following: "the rudder," "the +anchor," "the image at the bows." + +Read the description of "those lordly pines." + +What does Longfellow say the flag of the ship will be to the wanderer? + +Longfellow comments on the marriage of the ship with the sea. Explain the +figure of speech. + +Memorize the pastor's words. + +Describe the launching in your own words. + +Have you ever seen a ship launched? + +What does the building of the ship symbolize? + +Memorize the apostrophe to the ship of state and explain the symbol in +detail. + +Find examples of alliteration. + + +Words and Phrases for Discussion. + + "airy argosy" + "heir of his dexterity" + "slip" + "scarfed" + "Like a beauteous barge was she" + "moat" + "knarred" + + * * * * * + + +JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER + +The year 1807 was the birth year of both Whittier and Longfellow--two poets +in whom the love of human nature is a marked trait. Little of the scholar, +however, is to be found in the New England Quaker whose lot it was to pass +from plow to politics, and from politics to literature. John Greenleaf +Whittier was born in East Haverhill, a rugged, hilly section of Essex +County, Massachusetts. In the southern part of this same county lies Salem, +where three years earlier Hawthorne was born. + +The home of Whittier was in a country district, and to this day no roof is +in sight from the old homestead. The house, considerably more than a +hundred years old at the time of the poet's birth, was built by his +great-great-grandfather. The Whittiers were mostly stalwart men, six feet +in height, who lived out their three-score years and ten; but the poet, +though his years were more than any of his immediate ancestors, fell a +little short of the family stature, and was of slender frame. "Snow-bound" +gives us a faithful picture of the Whittier homestead and household, as +they were eighty years ago. + +The life they lived there was one utterly without luxury, and with few +means of culture. There were perhaps thirty hooks in the house, largely +Quaker tracts and journals. Of course there was the Bible, and through all +his poetry Whittier reverts to the Bible for phrases and images as +naturally as Longfellow turns to mediaeval legend. Memorable were the +evenings when the school teacher came and read to the family from books he +brought with him,--one most memorable, when the book was a copy of Burns. +On Whittier's first visit to Boston, an occasion honored by his wearing +"boughten buttons" on his homespun coat, and a broad-brim hat made by his +aunt out of pasteboard covered with drab velvet, he purchased a copy of +Shakespeare. + +He attended the district school a few weeks each winter, and when he was +nineteen he completed his scanty education with a year at an academy at +Haverhill. From the time when the reading of Burns woke the poet in him, he +was constantly writing rhymes, covering his slate with them, and sometimes +copying them out painstakingly on paper. + +Without Whittier's knowledge, his sister sent one of his poems to a paper +in a neighboring town. The Editor became interested in his contributor and, +as the story goes, drove out to the country home and Whittier was called in +from the field to meet the smart young newspaper man. Thus began his +literary career. + +He became an Editor in Boston and later in Hartford, but the work proving +too trying for his delicate health, he returned to the farm. Meanwhile, he +was contributing verse to the newspapers. + +During this time he was elected to the Legislature of Massachusetts and had +some prospects of being nominated for Congress. + +Later in life he returned again and again to the purely lyrical notes which +he had taken up in his youth. + +Two subjects always appealed strongly to Whitter's poetic imagination. One +is the slender body of legendary lore that has come down to us from the +colonial days of New England, including a few tales of the trials and +persecutions of the early Quaker. "Skipper Ireson's Ride" belongs to this +group of ballads. The other favorite field of Whittier's poetic fancy was +the humble rural life of his own childhood--"In School-Days" and +"Snow-Bound" belong to this class of New England idyls. The latter will +always be a favorite with American readers, both for its simple rustic +pictures, and for its deep religious faith. + +Whittier never married. The little romances of his youth slipped quietly +into memories, and imparted a finer tone to the poetry of his maturer +years. He died at Hampton Falls, New Hampshire, in the eighty-fifth year of +his age. Holmes was the only one of the New England singers left to mourn +his departure: + + + "Best loved and saintliest of our singing train, + Earth's noblest tributes to thy name belong. + A lifelong record closed without a stain, + A blameless memory shrined in deathless song." + + + * * * * * + +SNOW-BOUND + +A WINTER IDYL + +JOHN G. WHITTIER + + + The Sun that brief December day + Rose cheerless over hills of gray, + And, darkly circled, gave at noon + A sadder light than waning moon. + Slow tracing down the thickening sky + Its mute and ominous prophecy, + A portent seeming less than threat, + It sank from sight before it set. + A chill no coat, however stout, + Of homespun stuff could quite shut out. + A hard, dull bitterness of cold, + That checked, mid-vein, the circling race + Of life-blood in the sharpened face, + The coming of the snow-storm told. + The wind blew east; we heard the roar + Of Ocean on his wintry shore, + And felt the strong pulse throbbing there + Beat with low rhythm our inland air. + + Meanwhile we did our nightly chores,-- + Brought in the wood from out of doors, + Littered the stalls, and from the mows + Raked down the herd's-grass for the cows: + Heard the horse whinnying for his corn; + And, sharply clashing horn on horn, + Impatient down the stanchion rows + The cattle shake their walnut bows; + While, peering from his early perch + Upon the scaffold's pole of birch, + The cock his crested helmet bent + And down his querulous challenge sent + Unwarmed by any sunset light + The gray day darkened into night, + A night made hoary with the swarm + And whirl-dance of the blinding storm, + As zigzag wavering to and fro + Crossed and recrossed the winged snow: + And ere the early bedtime came + The white drift piled the window-frame, + And through the glass the clothes-line posts + Looked in like tall and sheeted ghosts. + So all night long the storm roared on: + The morning broke without a sun; + In tiny spherule traced with lines + Of Nature's geometric signs, + In starry flake and pellicle + All day the hoary meteor fell; + And, when the second morning shone, + We looked upon a world unknown, + On nothing we could call our own. + Around the glistening wonder bent + The blue walls of the firmament, + No cloud above, no earth below,-- + A universe of sky and snow! + The old familiar sights of ours + Took marvelous shapes; strange domes and towers + Rose up where sty or corn-crib stood, + Or garden-wall or belt of wood; + A smooth white mound the brush-pile showed, + A fenceless drift what once was road; + The bridle-post an old man sat + With loose-flung coat and high cocked hat; + The well-curb had a Chinese roof; + And even the long sweep, high aloof, + In its slant splendor, seemed to tell + Of Pisa's leaning miracle. + + A prompt, decisive man, no breath + Our father wasted: "Boys, a path!" + Well pleased, (for when did farmer boy + Count such a summons less than joy?) + Our buskins on our feet we drew; + With mittened hands, and caps drawn low, + To guard our necks and ears from snow, + We cut the solid whiteness through; + And, where the drift was deepest, made + A tunnel walled and overlaid + With dazzling crystal: we had read + Of rare Aladdin's wondrous cave, + And to our own his name we gave, + With many a wish the luck were ours + To test his lamp's supernal powers. + We reached the barn with merry din, + And roused the prisoned brutes within. + The old horse thrust his long head out, + And grave with wonder gazed about; + The cock his lusty greeting said, + And forth his speckled harem led; + The oxen lashed their tails, and hooked, + And mild reproach of hunger looked; + The horned patriarch of the sheep, + Like Egypt's Amun roused from sleep, + Shook his sage head with gesture mute, + And emphasized with stamp of foot. + + All day the gusty north-wind bore + The loosened drift its breath before; + Low circling round its southern zone, + The sun through dazzling snow-mist shone. + No church-bell lent its Christian tone + To the savage air, no social smoke + Curled over woods of snow-hung oak. + A solitude made more intense + By dreary-voiced elements, + The shrieking of the mindless wind, + The moaning tree-boughs swaying blind, + And on the glass the unmeaning beat + Of ghostly finger-tips of sleet. + Beyond the circle of our hearth + No welcome sound of toil or mirth + Unbound the spell, and testified + Of human life and thought outside. + We minded that the sharpest ear + The buried brooklet could not hear, + The music of whose liquid lip + Had been to us companionship, + And, in our lonely life, had grown + To have an almost human tone. + + As night drew on, and, from the crest + Of wooded knolls that ridged the west, + The sun, a snow-blown traveler, sank + From sight beneath the smothering bank, + We piled with care our nightly stack + Of wood against the chimney-back,-- + The oaken log, green, huge, and thick, + And on its top the stout back-stick; + The knotty forestick laid apart, + And filled between with curious art + The ragged brush; then, hovering near, + We watched the first red blaze appear, + Heard the sharp crackle, caught the gleam + On whitewashed wall and sagging beam, + Until the old, rude-furnished room + Burst, flower-like, into rosy bloom; + While radiant with a mimic flame + Outside the sparkling drift became + And through the bare-boughed lilac-tree + Our own warm hearth seemed blazing free. + The crane and pendent trammels showed, + The Turk's heads on the andirons glowed; + While childish fancy, prompt to tell + The meaning of the miracle, + Whispered the old rhyme: _"Under the tree, + When fire outdoors burns merrily, + There the witches are making tea."_ + + The moon above the eastern wood + Shone at its full; the hill-range stood + Transfigured in the silver flood, + Its blown snows flashing cold and keen, + Dead white, save where some sharp ravine + Took shadow, or the sombre green + Of hemlocks turned to pitchy black + Against the whiteness of their back. + For such a world and such a night + Most fitting that unwarming light, + Which only seemed where'er it fell + To make the coldness visible. + + Shut in from all the world without, + We sat the clean-winged hearth about, + Content to let the north-wind roar + In baffled rage at pane and door, + While the red logs before us beat + The frost-line back with tropic heat; + And ever, when a louder blast + Shook beam and rafter as it passed, + The merrier up its roaring draught + The great throat of the chimney laughed, + The house-dog on his paws outspread + Laid to the fire his drowsy head, + The cat's dark silhouette on the wall + A couchant tiger's seemed to fall; + And, for the winter fireside meet, + Between the andirons' straddling feet, + The mug of cider simmered slow, + The apples sputtered in a row, + And, close at hand, the basket stood + With nuts from brown October's wood. + + What matter how the night behaved? + What matter how the north-wind raved? + Blow high, blow low, not all its snow + Could quench our hearth-fire's ruddy glow. + O Time and Change!--with hair as gray + As was my sire's that winter day, + How strange it seems, with so much gone + Of life and love, to still live on! + Ah, brother! only I and thou + Are left of all that circle now,-- + The dear home faces whereupon + That fitful firelight paled and shone. + Henceforward, listen as we will, + The voices of that hearth are still; + Look where we may, the wide earth o'er, + Those lighted faces smile no more. + We tread the paths their feet have worn, + We sit beneath their orchard trees, + We hear, like them, the hum of bees + And rustle of the bladed corn; + We turn the pages that they read, + Their written words we linger o'er, + But in the sun they cast no shade, + No voice is heard, no sign is made, + No step is on the conscious floor! + Yet Love will dream and Faith will trust + (Since He who knows our need is just) + That somehow, somewhere, meet we must. + Alas for him who never sees + The stars shine through his cypress-trees! + Who, hopeless, lays his dead away, + Nor looks to see the breaking day + Across the mournful marbles play! + Who hath not learned, in hours of faith, + The truth to flesh and sense unknown, + That Life is ever lord of Death, + And Love can never lose its own! + + We sped the time with stories old, + Wrought puzzles out, and riddles told, + Or stammered from our school-book lore + "The chief of Gambia's golden shore." + Our father rode again his ride + On Memphremagog's wooded side; + Sat down again to moose and samp + In trapper's hut and Indian camp; + Lived o'er the old idyllic ease + Beneath St. Francois' hemlock trees; + Again for him the moonlight shone + On Norman cap and bodiced zone; + Again he heard the violin play + Which led the village dance away, + And mingled in its merry whirl + The grandam and the laughing girl. + Or, nearer home, our steps he led + Where Salisbury's level marshes spread + Mile-wide as flies the laden bee; + Where merry mowers, hale and strong, + Swept, scythe on scythe, their swaths along + The low green prairies of the sea. + We shared the fishing off Boar's Head, + And round the rocky Isles of Shoals + The hake-broil on the driftwood coals; + The chowder on the sand-beach made, + Dipped by the hungry, steaming hot, + With spoons of clam-shell from the pot. + We heard the tales of witchcraft old, + And dream and sign and marvel told + To sleepy listeners as they lay + Stretched idly on the salted hay, + Adrift along the winding shores, + When favoring breezes deigned to blow + The square sail of the gundalow, + And idle lay the useless oars. + Our mother, while she turned her wheel + Or run the new-knit stocking-heel, + Told how the Indian hordes came down + At midnight on Cochecho town, + And how her own great-uncle bore + His cruel scalp-mark to fourscore. + Recalling, in her fitting phrase, + So rich and picturesque and free + (The common unrhymed poetry + Of simple life and country ways), + The story of her early days,-- + She made us welcome to her home; + Old hearths grew wide to give us room; + We stole with her a frightened look + At the gray wizard's conjuring-book, + The fame whereof went far and wide + Through all the simple country-side; + We heard the hawks at twilight play, + The boat-horn on Piscataqua, + The loon's weird laughter far away; + + We fished her little trout-brook, knew + What flowers in wood and meadow grew, + What sunny hillsides autumn-brown + She climbed to shake the ripe nuts down, + Saw where in sheltered cove and bay + The ducks' black squadron anchored lay, + And heard the wild geese calling loud + Beneath the gray November cloud. + Then, haply, with a look more grave, + And soberer tone, some tale she gave + From painful Sewel's ancient tome, + Beloved in every Quaker home, + Of faith fire-winged by martyrdom, + Or Chalkley's Journal, old and quaint,-- + Gentlest of skippers, rare sea-saint!-- + Who, when the dreary calms prevailed, + And water-butt and bread-cask failed, + And cruel, hungry eyes pursued + His portly presence, mad for food, + With dark hints muttered under breath + Of casting lots for life or death, + Offered, if Heaven withheld supplies, + To be himself the sacrifice. + Then, suddenly, as if to save + The good man from his living grave, + A ripple on the water grew, + A school of porpoise flashed in view. + "Take, eat," he said, "and be content; + These fishes in my stead are sent + By Him who gave the tangled ram + To spare the child of Abraham." + + Our uncle, innocent of books, + Was rich in lore of fields and brooks, + The ancient teachers never dumb + Of Nature's unhoused lyceum. + In moons and tides and weather wise, + He read the clouds as prophecies, + And foul or fair could well divine, + By many an occult hint and sign, + Holding the cunning-warded keys + To all the woodcraft mysteries; + Himself to Nature's heart so near + That all her voices in his ear + Of beast or bird had meanings clear, + Like Apollonius of old, + Who knew the tales the sparrows told, + Or Hermes, who interpreted + What the sage cranes of Nilus said; + A simple, guileless, childlike man, + Content to live where life began; + Strong only on his native grounds, + The little world of sights and sounds + Whose girdle was the parish bounds, + Whereof his fondly partial pride + The common features magnified, + As Surrey hills to mountains grew + In White of Selborne's loving view,-- + He told how teal and loon he shot, + And how the eagle's eggs he got, + The feats on pond and river done, + The prodigies of rod and gun; + Till, warming with the tales he told, + Forgotten was the outside cold, + The bitter wind unheeded blew, + From ripening corn the pigeons flew, + The partridge drummed i' the wood, the mink + Went fishing down the river-brink. + In fields with bean or clover gay, + The woodchuck, like a hermit gray, + Peered from the doorway of his cell; + The muskrat plied the mason's trade, + And tier by tier his mud-walls laid; + And from the shagbark overhead + The grizzled squirrel dropped his shell. + + Next, the dear aunt, whose smile of cheer + And voice in dreams I see and hear,-- + The sweetest woman ever Fate + Perverse denied a household mate, + Who, lonely, homeless, not the less + Found peace in love's unselfishness, + And welcome whereso'er she went, + A calm and gracious element, + Whose presence seemed the sweet income + And womanly atmosphere of home,-- + Called up her girlhood memories, + The huskings and the apple-bees, + The sleigh-rides and the summer sails, + Weaving through all the poor details + And homespun warp of circumstance + A golden woof-thread of romance. + For well she kept her genial mood + And simple faith of maidenhood; + Before her still a cloud-land lay, + The mirage loomed across her way; + The morning dew, that dried so soon + With others, glistened at her noon; + Through years of toil and soil and care, + From glossy tress to thin gray hair, + All unprofaned she held apart + The virgin fancies of the heart. + Be shame to him of woman born + Who had for such but thought of scorn. + + There, too, our elder sister plied + Her evening task the stand beside; + A full, rich nature, free to trust, + Truthful and almost sternly just, + Impulsive, earnest, prompt to act, + And make her generous thought a fact, + Keeping with many a light disguise + The secret of self-sacrifice. + O heart sore-tried! thou hast the best + That Heaven itself could give thee,--rest, + Rest from all bitter thoughts and things! + How many a poor one's blessing went + With thee beneath the low green tent + Whose curtain never outward swings! + + As one who held herself a part + Of all she saw, and let her heart + Against the household bosom lean, + Upon the motley-braided mat + Our youngest and our dearest sat, + Lifting her large, sweet, asking eyes, + Now bathed within the fadeless green + And holy peace of Paradise. + Oh, looking from some heavenly hill, + Or from the shade of saintly palms, + Or silver reach of river calms, + Do those large eyes behold me still? + With me one little year ago:-- + The chill weight of the winter snow + For months upon her grave has lain; + And now, when summer south-winds blow + And brier and harebell bloom again, + I tread the pleasant paths we trod, + I see the violet-sprinkled sod, + Whereon she leaned, too frail and weak + The hillside flowers she loved to seek, + Yet following me where'er I went + With dark eyes full of love's content. + The birds are glad; the brier-rose fills + The air with sweetness; all the hills + Stretch green to June's unclouded sky; + But still I wait with ear and eye + For something gone which should be nigh, + A loss in all familiar things, + In flower that blooms, and bird that sings. + And yet, dear heart! remembering thee, + Am I not richer than of old? + Safe in thy immortality, + What change can reach the wealth I hold? + What chance can mar the pearl and gold + Thy love hath left in trust with me? + And while in life's late afternoon, + Where cool and long the shadows grow, + I walk to meet the night that soon + Shall shape and shadow overflow, + I cannot feel that thou art far, + Since near at need the angels are; + And when the sunset gates unbar, + Shall I not see thee waiting stand, + And, white against the evening star, + The welcome of thy beckoning hand? + + Brisk wielder of the birch and rule, + The master of the district school + Held at the fire his favored place; + Its warm glow lit a laughing face + Fresh-hued and fair, where scarce appeared + The uncertain prophecy of beard. + He teased the mitten-blinded cat, + Played cross-pins on my uncle's hat, + Sang songs, and told us what befalls + In classic Dartmouth's college halls. + Born the wild Northern hills among, + From whence his yeoman father wrung + By patient toil subsistence scant, + Not competence and yet not want, + He early gained the power to pay + His cheerful, self-reliant way; + Could doff at ease his scholar's gown + To peddle wares from town to town; + Or through the long vacation's reach + In lonely lowland districts teach, + Where all the droll experience found + At stranger hearths in boarding round, + The moonlit skater's keen delight, + The sleigh-drive through the frosty night, + The rustic party, with its rough + Accompaniment of blind-man's-buff, + And whirling plate, and forfeits paid, + His winter task a pastime made. + Happy the snow-locked homes wherein + He tuned his merry violin, + Or played the athlete in the barn, + Or held the good dame's winding yarn, + Of mirth-provoking versions told + Of classic legends rare and old, + Wherein the scenes of Greece and Rome + Had all the commonplace of home, + And little seemed at best the odds + 'Twixt Yankee peddlers and old gods; + Where Pindus-born Arachthus took + The guise of any grist-mill brook, + And dread Olympus at his will + Became a huckleberry hill. + A careless boy that night he seemed; + But at his desk he had the look + And air of one who wisely schemed, + And hostage from the future took + In trained thought and lore of book. + Another guest that winter night + Flashed back from lustrous eyes the light. + Unmarked by time, and yet not young, + The honeyed music of her tongue + And words of meekness scarcely told + A nature passionate and bold, + Strong, self-concentred, spurning guide, + Its milder features dwarfed beside + Her unbent will's majestic pride. + She sat among us, at the best, + A not unfeared, half-welcome guest, + Rebuking with her cultured phrase + Our homeliness of words and ways. + A certain pard-like, treacherous grace + Swayed the lithe limbs and dropped the lash, + Lent the white teeth their dazzling flash; + And under low brows, black with night, + Rayed out at times a dangerous light; + The sharp heat-lightnings of her face + Presaging ill to him whom Fate + Condemned to share her love or hate. + A woman tropical, intense + In thought and act, in soul and sense, + She blended in a like degree + The vixen and the devotee, + Revealing with each freak or feint + The temper of Petruchio's Kate, + The raptures of Siena's saint. + Her tapering hand and rounded wrist + Had facile power to form a fist; + The warm, dark languish of her eyes + Was never safe from wrath's surprise. + Brows saintly calm and lips devout + Knew every change of scowl and pout; + And the sweet voice had notes more high + And shrill for social battle-cry. + Since then what old cathedral town + Has missed her pilgrim staff and gown, + What convent-gate has held its lock + Against the challenge of her knock! + Through Smyrna's plague-hushed thoroughfares, + Up sea-set Malta's rocky stairs, + Gray olive slopes of hills that hem + Thy tombs and shrines, Jerusalem, + Or startling on her desert throne + The crazy Queen of Lebanon + With claims fantastic as her own, + Her tireless feet have held their way; + And still, unrestful, bowed and gray, + She watches under Eastern skies, + With hope each day renewed and fresh, + The Lord's quick coming in the flesh, + Whereof she dreams and prophesies! + Where'er her troubled path may be, + The Lord's sweet pity with her go! + The outward wayward life we see, + The hidden springs we may not know. + Nor is it given us to discern + What threads the fatal sisters spun, + Through what ancestral years has run + The sorrow with the woman born, + What forged her cruel chain of moods, + What set her feet in solitudes, + And held the love within her mute, + What mingled madness in the blood, + A lifelong discord and annoy, + Water of tears with oil of joy, + And hid within the folded bud + Perversities of flower and fruit. + It is not ours to separate + The tangled skein of will and fate, + To show what metes and bounds should stand + Upon the soul's debatable land, + And between choice and Providence + Divide the circle of events; + But He who knows our frame is just, + Merciful and compassionate, + And full of sweet assurances + And hope for all the language is, + That He remembereth we are dust! + + At last the great logs, crumbling low, + Sent out a dull and duller glow, + The bull's-eye watch, that hung in view, + Ticking its weary circuit through, + Pointed with mutely-warning sign + Its black hand to the hour of nine. + That sign the pleasant circle broke: + My uncle ceased his pipe to smoke, + Knocked from its bowl the refuse gray, + And laid it tenderly away, + Then roused himself to safely cover + The dull red brand with ashes over. + And while, with care, our mother laid + The work aside, her steps she stayed + One moment, seeking to express + Her grateful sense of happiness + For food and shelter, warmth and health, + And love's contentment more than wealth, + With simple wishes (not the weak, + Vain prayers which no fulfilment seek, + But such as warm the generous heart, + O'er-prompt to do with Heaven its part) + That none might lack, that bitter night, + For bread and clothing, warmth and light. + + Within our beds awhile we heard + The wind that round the gables roared, + With now and then a ruder shock, + Which made our very bedsteads rock. + We heard the loosened clapboards tost, + The board-nails snapping in the frost; + And on us, through the unplastered wall, + Felt the lightsifted snow-flakes fall; + But sleep stole on, as sleep will do + When hearts are light and life is new; + Faint and more faint the murmurs grew, + Till in the summer-land of dreams + They softened to the sound of streams, + Low stir of leaves, and dip of oars, + And lapsing waves on quiet shores. + + Next morn we wakened with the shout + Of merry voices high and clear; + And saw the teamsters drawing near + To break the drifted highways out. + Down the long hillside treading slow + We saw the half-buried oxen go, + Shaking the snow from heads uptost, + Their straining nostrils white with frost. + Before our door the straggling train + Drew up, an added team to gain. + The elders threshed their hands a-cold, + Passed, with the cider-mug, their jokes + From lip to lip; the younger folks + Down the loose snow-banks, wrestling, rolled, + Then toiled again the cavalcade + O'er windy hill, through clogged ravine, + And woodland paths that wound between + Low drooping-pine-boughs winter-weighed. + From every barn a team afoot, + At every house a new recruit, + Where, drawn by Nature's subtlest law, + Haply the watchful young men saw + Sweet doorway pictures of the curls + And curious eyes of merry girls, + Lifting their hands in mock defense + Against the snow-balls' compliments, + And reading in each missive tost + The charm which Eden never lost. + We heard once more the sleigh-bells' sound; + And, following where the teamsters led, + The wise old Doctor went his round, + Just pausing at our door to say, + In the brief autocratic way + Of one who, prompt at Duty's call, + Was free to urge her claim on all, + That some poor neighbor sick abed + At night our mother's aid would need. + For, one in generous thought and deed, + What mattered in the sufferer's sight + The Quaker matron's inward light, + The Doctor's mail of Calvin's creed? + All hearts confess the saints elect + Who, twain, in faith, in love agree, + And melt not in an acid sect + The Christian pearl of charity! + So days went on: a week had passed + Since the great world was heard from last. + The Almanac we studied o'er, + Read and reread our little store + Of books and pamphlets, scarce a score; + One harmless novel, mostly hid + From younger eyes, a book forbid, + And poetry, (or good or bad, + A single book was all we had,) + Where Ellwood's meek, drab-skirted Muse, + A stranger to the heathen Nine, + Sang, with a somewhat nasal whine, + The wars of David and the Jews. + At last the floundering carrier bore + The village paper to our door. + Lo! broadening outward as we read, + To warmer zones the horizon spread; + In panoramic length unrolled + We saw the marvel that it told. + Before us passed the painted Creeks, + And daft McGregor on his raids + In Costa Rica's everglades. + And up Taygetus winding slow + Rode Ypsilanti's Mainote Greeks, + A Turk's head at each saddle bow! + Welcome to us its week-old news, + Its corner for the rustic Muse, + Its monthly gauge of snow and rain, + Its record, mingling in a breath + The wedding bell and dirge of death; + Jest, anecdote, and love-lorn tale, + The latest culprit sent to jail; + Its hue and cry of stolen and lost, + Its vendue sales and goods at cost, + And traffic calling loud for gain. + We felt the stir of hall and street, + The pulse of life that round us beat; + The chill embargo of the snow + Was melted in the genial glow; + Wide swung again our ice-locked door, + And all the world was ours once more! + + Clasp, Angel of the backward look + And folded wings of ashen gray + And voice of echoes far away, + The brazen covers of thy book; + The weird palimpsest old and vast, + Wherein thou hid'st the spectral past; + Where, closely mingling, pale and glow + The characters of joy and woe; + The monographs of outlived years, + Or smile-illumined or dim with tears, + Green hills of life that slope to death, + And haunts of home, whose vistaed trees + Shade off to mournful cypresses + With the white amaranths underneath. + Even while I look, I can but heed + The restless sands' incessant fall, + Importunate hours that hours succeed, + Each clamorous with its own sharp need, + And duty keeping pace with all. + Shut down and clasp the heavy lids; + I hear again the voice that bids + The dreamer leave his dream midway + For larger hopes and graver fears: + Life greatens in these later years, + The century's aloe flowers today! + + Yet, haply, in some lull of life, + Some Truce of God which breaks its strife, + The worldling's eyes shall gather dew, + Dreaming in throngful city ways + Of winter joys his boyhood knew; + And dear and early friends--the few + Who yet remain--shall pause to view + These Flemish pictures of old days; + Sit with me by the homestead hearth, + And stretch the hands of memory forth + To warm them at the wood-fire's blaze! + And thanks untraced to lips unknown + Shall greet me like the odors blown + From unseen meadows newly mown, + Or lilies floating in some pond, + Wood-fringed, the wayside gaze beyond; + The traveler owns the grateful sense + Of sweetness near, he knows not whence, + And, pausing, takes with forehead bare + The benediction of the air. + + + +HELPS TO STUDY. + + +Notes and Questions. + +What does "snow-bound" mean? + +Find a line in the poem which explains the title. + +Where is the scene of the poem laid? Find lines in the poem that tell you +this. + +Of whom did the circle gathered around the fire consist? + +What members of the family are not described in the poem? Why? + +Which one of the group can you see most plainly? Why? + +Select the lines which please you most in the description of each. + +Read four lines which show that the evening's pleasure was not disturbed by +the storm. + +In what respects does the room described differ from one in your home? + +How long was the family "snow-bound"? + +Of what did their library consist? + +What does Whittier tell us about the brook? + +What other poem have you read which describes a brook in Winter? By whom +was it written? + +What messenger put the household again in touch with the outside world? +What did he bring? + +Explain, what Whittier means by saying the family looked on nothing they +could call their own after the heavy snow? + +What is the meaning of the reference to "Pisa's leaning miracle"? + +Who was Aladdin? + +What were his "lamp's supernal powers"? + +What effect did the moonlight have upon the night? + +Of what are cypress trees a symbol? + +What do the stars shining through the cypress trees symbolize? + +What is the voice which Whittier says bids the dreamer leave his dream! + +What lines do you think best show the poet's appreciation of beauty in +nature? + +Choose the lines which you like best as showing his deep affections. + +Read lines which show his faith. + +Of what is the poet thinking when he speaks of the "restless sands' +incessant fall"? + +To what mythological characters does he refer when he speaks of the +"threads the fatal sisters spun"? + +What mythological characters are meant by "the heathen Nine"? + + +Words and Phrases for Discussion. + + "Apollonius" + "Hermes" + "Egypt's Amun" + "Surrey hills" + "silhouette" + "White of Selborne" + "clean-winged hearth." + "Petruchio'a Kate" + "Siena's saint" + "cranes of Nilua" + + * * * * * + + +THE SHIP-BUILDERS + +JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER + + + The sky is ruddy in the east, + The earth is gray below, + And, spectral in the river-mist, + The ship's white timbers show. + Then let the sounds of measured stroke + And grating saw begin; + The broad-axe to the gnarled oak, + The mallet to the pin! + + Hark!--roars the bellows, blast on blast, + The sooty smithy jars, + And fire-sparks, rising far and fast, + Are fading with the stars. + All day for us the smith shall stand + Beside that flashing forge; + All day for us his heavy hand + The groaning anvil scourge. + + From far-off hills, the panting team + For us is toiling near; + For us the raftsmen down the stream + Their island barges steer. + Rings out for us the axe-man's stroke + In forests old and still,-- + For us the century-circled oak + Falls crashing down his hill. + + Up!--up!--in nobler toil than ours + No craftsmen bear a part: + We make of Nature's giant powers + The slaves of human Art. + Lay rib to rib and beam to beam, + And drive the treenails free; + Nor faithless joint nor yawning seam + Shall tempt the searching sea! + + Where'er the keel of our good ship + The sea's rough field shall plough,-- + Where'er her tossing spars shall drip + With salt-spray caught below-- + That ship must heed her master's beck, + Her helm obey his hand, + And seamen tread her reeling deck + As if they trod the land. + + Her oaken ribs the vulture-beak + Of Northern ice may peel; + The sunken rock and coral peak + May grate along her keel; + And know we well the painted shell + We give to wind and wave, + Must float, the sailor's citadel, + Or-sink, the sailor's grave! + + Ho!--strike away the bars and blocks, + And set the good ship free! + Why lingers on these dusty rocks + The young bride of the sea? + Look! how she moves adown the grooves, + In graceful beauty now! + How lowly on the breast she loves + Sinks down her virgin prow! + + God bless her! wheresoe'er the breeze + Her snowy wing shall fan, + Aside the frozen Hebrides, + Or sultry Hindostan! + Where'er, in mart or on the main, + With peaceful flag unfurled, + She helps to wind the silken chain + Of commerce round the world! + + Be hers the Prairie's golden grain, + The Desert's golden sand, + The clustered fruits of sunny Spain, + The spice of Morning-land! + Her pathway on the open main + May blessings follow free, + And glad hearts--welcome back again + Her white sails from the sea! + + + +HELPS TO STUDY. + + +Notes and Questions. + +What time of day is indicated in the first and second stanzas? + +What tells you this? + +How does the smith "scourge" the anvil? + +What effect does the poet fancy this has upon the anvil? + +Which of these two thoughts do you suppose first occurred to the poet? + +What are the "island barges"? + +What is a "century-circled oak"? Did you ever see one? + +What is Whittier's idea of a shipbuilder's work? + +In what way would a "yawning seam" tempt the sea? + +What is the "painted shell"? + +How is a ship launched? + +What other poem have you read which describes the launching of a ship? Who +wrote it? + +Which poem do you like better? Why? + + +Words and Phrases for Discussion., + + "gnarled oak" + "faithless joint" + "coral peak" + "the sailor's citadel" + "snowy wing" + "Desert's golden sand" + "spice of Morningland" + + * * * * * + + +OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES + +Oliver Wendell Holmes's birth year, 1809, was made memorable on both sides +of the Atlantic by the births of Lincoln, Tennyson, Poe, and Gladstone. His +father, of colonial descent, was a Congregational minister at Cambridge. On +his mother's side--the Wendells or Vondels--he was of Dutch descent. + +Holmes was brought up very simply in the old gambrel-roofed house, half +parsonage and half farm house. He read the "New England Primer," "Pilgrim's +Progress" and such poems as were to be found in the early school books. +Later he was a student at Harvard, a member of the class of 1829, which, +while not to be compared for literary genius with the Bowdoin class of +1825, was one of Harvard's most famous classes. Not long after his +graduation, the class of 1829 began to held annual dinners and Holmes was +regularly called upon to furnish an ode for the occasion. It was on the +thirtieth anniversary that he wrote and recited "The Boys." In 1889, at the +sixtieth anniversary, he wrote the last class poem, "After the Curfew." + +It was in the first year after his graduation that his verses went into +type and then he says he had his first attack of "lead poisoning." After +leaving Harvard he studied law for a while and then turned to medicine and +surgery, spending two years in study in Paris. It is a singular coincidence +and shows his double work in life, that in 1836 when he published his first +volume of poems he also took his degree as doctor of medicine. As a +physician he was always deeply interested in the problems of heredity and +he wrote several novels in which inherited characteristics play an +important part. + +It was in September, 1830, that Holmes chanced to read in a newspaper of +the proposal of the Navy Department to dismantle the frigate Constitution, +which had done such good service in 1812 but which was then lying, old and +unseaworthy, in the navy yard at Charleston. He wrote at once with a lead +pencil on a scrap of paper the stirring verses "Old Ironsides" and sent +them to the Boston Daily Advertiser, from which they were copied in all the +papers of the country. The frigate was converted into a school-ship, and +Oliver Wendell Holmes became known as a poet. + +On every public occasion which could be enlivened or dignified by a special +poem, Dr. Holmes was called upon. Such a position is a trying one and one +to which only men with a sense of humor are often called. The doctor rarely +refused to respond; so that nearly one-half of his verse is of this +occasional character. Much of his verse is in lighter vein, but of the +serious, surest in their hold upon his readers are "The Last Leaf" and "The +Chambered Nautilus." But Holmes, while he had a genuine gift of song, was +no persistent singer like Longfellow or Whittier, and so he reached almost +the age of fifty without feeling that the reading public had any special +interest in him. Then in 1857, when the Atlantic Monthly was established, +and Lowell took the editorship only on condition that Holmes would be a +contributor, he wrote the "Autocrat of the Breakfast Table." In this role +of talker, comfortable, brilliant, and witty, Holmes made friends wherever +the Autocrat was read. + +Holmes's intellect remained bright and he continued an active worker into +extreme old age. In 1890 he published his last volume, "Over the Teacups." +As one by one this brilliant company of New England writers left the world, +Holmes sang to each a farewell song. When his own time came he was really +"The Last Leaf upon the Tree." The end came peacefully as he was talking to +his son, October 7, 1894. + + * * * * * + +THE CHAMBERED NAUTILUS + +OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES + + + This is the ship of pearl, which, poets feign, + Sails the unshadowed main-- + The venturous bark that flings + On the sweet summer wind its purpled wings, + In gulfs enchanted, where the Siren sings, + And coral reefs lie bare, + Where the cold sea-maids rise to sun their streaming hair. + + Its webs of living gauze no more unfurl; + Wrecked is the ship of pearl! + And every chambered cell, + Where its dim dreaming life was wont to dwell, + As the frail tenant shaped his growing shell, + Before thee lies revealed-- + Its irised ceiling rent, its sunless crypt unsealed! + + Year after year beheld the silent toil + That spread his lustrous coil; + Still, as the spiral grew, + He left the past year's dwelling for the new, + Stole with soft step its shining archway through, + Built up its idle door, + Stretched in his last-found home, and knew the old no more. + + Thanks for the heavenly message brought by thee, + Child of the wandering sea, + Cast from her lap, forlorn! + Prom thy dead lips a clearer note is born + Than ever Triton blew from wreathed horn! + While on mine ear it rings, + Through the deep caves of thought I hear a voice that sings: + + Build thee more stately mansions, O my soul, + As the swift seasons roll! + Leave thy low-vaulted past! + Let each new temple, nobler than the last, + Shut thee from heaven with a dome more vast, + Till thou at length art free, + Leaving thine outgrown shell by life's unresting sea! + + + +HELPS TO STUDY. + + +Notes and Questions. + +What does the word nautilus mean? + +What thought must have been in the mind of those who gave the chambered +nautilus this name? + +Who does Holmes tell us have given expression to this fancy? + +Can you think of any bodies of water which might be called "enchanted +gulfs"? + +Give reasons for your answer. + +What are coral reefs? Where are they found? + +What kind of beings--were "sea-maids" supposed to be? + +What are they more commonly called? + +To whom is the poet speaking? + +What name do we give to such a speech? + +How does the soul build mansions? + +In what directions must a dome be extended to make it "more vast"? + +What does the poet mean by the "outgrown shell" of the soul? + +What is the lesson of the poem? + +Which stanza do you like best? Why? + + +Words and Phrases for Discussion. + + "Its webs of living gauze no more unfurl" + "dim dreaming life" + "sunless crypt" + "caves of thought" + "lustrous coil" + "cast from her lap forlorn" + "low-vaulted past" + "irised ceiling" + "life's unresting sea" + + * * * * * + +THE DEACON'S MASTERPIECE: OR THE WONDERFUL "ONE-HOSS SHAY" + +A LOGICAL STORY + +OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES + + + Have you heard of the wonderful one-hoss shay, + That was built in such a logical way + It ran a hundred years to a day, + And then, of a sudden, it----ah, but stay, + I'll tell you what happened without delay, + Scaring the parson into fits, + Frightening people out of their wits,-- + Have you ever heard of that, I say? + + Seventeen hundred and fifty-five. + _Georgius Secundus_ was then alive,-- + Snuffy old drone from the German hive. + That was the year when Lisbon-town + Saw the earth open and gulp her down, + And Braddock's army was done so brown, + Left without a scalp to its crown. + It was on the terrible Earthquake-day + That the Deacon finished the one-hoss shay. + + Now in building of chaises, I tell you what, + There is always _somewhere_ a weakest spot,-- + In hub, tire, felloe, in spring or thill, + In panel, or crossbar, or floor, or sill, + In screw, bolt, thoroughbrace,--lurking, still, + Find it somewhere you must and will,-- + Above or below, or within or without,-- + And that's the reason, beyond a doubt, + A chaise _breaks down_, but doesn't _wear out_. + + But the Deacon swore, (as Deacons do, + With an "I dew vum," or an "I tell _yeou_,") + He would build one shay to beat the taown + 'N' the keounty 'n' all the kentry raoun'; + It should be so built that it _couldn_' break daown. + --"Fur," said the Deacon, "'t's mighty plain + Thut the weakes' place mus' stan' the strain; + 'N' the way t' fix it, uz I maintain, is only jest + T' make that place uz strong uz the rest." + + So the Deacon inquired of the village folk + Where he could find the strongest oak, + That couldn't be split nor bent nor broke,-- + That was for spokes and floor and sills; + He sent for lancewood to make the thills; + The crossbars were ash, from the straightest trees, + The panels of white-wood, that cuts like cheese, + But lasts like iron for things like these; + The hubs of logs from the "Settler's ellum,"-- + Last of its timber,--they couldn't sell 'em, + Never an axe had seen their chips, + And the wedges flew from between their lips, + Their blunt ends frizzled like celery-tips; + Step and prop-iron, bolt and screw, + Spring, tire, axle, and linchpin too, + Steel of the finest, bright and blue; + Thoroughbrace, bison-skin, thick and wide; + Boot, top, dasher, from tough old hide + Found in the pit when the tanner died. + That was the way he "put her through."-- + "There!" said the Deacon, "naow she'll dew." + + Do! I tell you, I rather guess + She was a wonder, and nothing less! + Colts grew horses, beards turned gray, + Deacon and deaconess dropped away, + Children and grandchildren--where were they? + But there stood the stout old one-hoss shay + As fresh as on Lisbon-earthquake-day! + + EIGHTEEN HUNDRED;--it came and found + The Deacon's masterpiece strong and sound. + Eighteen hundred increased by ten;-- + "Hahnsum kerridge" they called it then. + Eighteen hundred and twenty came;-- + Running as usual; much the same. + Thirty and forty at last arrive, + And then came fifty, and FIFTY-FIVE. + + Little of all we value here + Wakes on the morn of its hundredth year + Without both feeling and looking queer. + In fact, there's nothing that keeps its youth, + So far as I know, but a tree and truth. + (This is a moral that runs at large; + Take it.--You're welcome.--No extra charge.) + + First of November,--the Earthquake-day.-- + There are traces of age in the one-hoss shay, + A general flavor of mild decay, + But nothing local, as one may say. + There couldn't be--for the Deacon's art + Had made it so like in every part + That there wasn't a chance for one to start. + For the wheels were just as strong as the thills, + And the floor was just as strong as the sills, + And the panels just as strong as the floor, + And the whippletree neither less nor more, + And the back-crossbar as strong as the fore, + And spring and axle and hub _encore_. + And yet, _as a whole_, it is past a doubt + In another hour it will be _worn out_! + + First of November, fifty-five! + This morning the parson takes a drive. + Now, small boys, get out of the way! + Here comes the wonderful one-hoss shay, + Drawn by a rat-tailed, ewe-necked bay. + "Huddup!" said the parson.--Off went they. + The parson was working his Sunday's text,-- + Had got to _fifthly_, and stopped perplexed + At what the--Moses--was coming next. + All at once the horse stood still, + Close by the meet'n'-house on the hill. + + First a shiver, and then a thrill, + Then something decidedly like a spill,-- + And the parson was sitting upon a rock, + At half-past nine by the meet'n'-house clock-- + Just the hour of the Earthquake shock! + What do you think the parson found, + When he got up and stared around? + The poor old chaise in a heap or mound, + As if it had been to the mill and ground. + You see, of course, if you're not a dunce, + How it went to pieces all at once,-- + All at once, and nothing first,-- + Just as bubbles do when they burst. + + End of the wonderful one-hoss shay, + Logic is logic. That's all I say. + + + +HELPS TO STUDY. + + +Notes and Questions. + +How does Holmes account for the fact "that a chaise breaks down, but +doesn't wear out"? + +What kind of chaise did the Deacon decide to build? + +On what principle did he expect to do this? + +Read the lines in which the Deacon states the result of his experience with +chaises. + +What do you think of his reasoning? + +To what besides the building of a chaise might this principle be applied? + +To what does the poet compare the breaking down of the chaise? + +Read lines which show the serious side of the poet's nature. + +Read the lines by means of which he passes from seriousness to jest. + +Do you think Holmes expects his readers to believe this story? Give reason +for your answer. + +What was his purpose in writing it? + +What has the reading of this poem done for you? + + +Words and Phrases for Discussion. + + "Georgius Secundus" + "Lisbon earthquake day" + "from the German hive" + "Braddock's army" + + * * * * * + + +OLD IRONSIDES + +OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES + + + Ay, tear her tattered ensign down! + Long has it waved on high, + And many an eye has danced to see + That banner in the sky: + Beneath it rung the battle shout, + And burst the cannon's roar:-- + The meteor of the ocean air + Shall sweep the clouds no more! + + Her deck, once red with heroes' blood, + Where knelt the vanquished foe, + When winds were hurrying o'er the flood, + And waves were white below, + No more shall feel the victor's tread, + Or know the conquered knee;-- + The harpies of the shore shall pluck + The eagle of the sea! + + O better that her shattered hulk + Should sink beneath the wave; + Her thunders shook the mighty deep, + And there should be her grave: + Nail to the mast her holy flag, + Set every threadbare sail, + And give her to the god of storms, + The lightning and the gale! + + + +HELPS TO STUDY. + +Historical: Old Ironsides was the name given the frigate Constitution. It +was proposed by the Secretary of the Navy to dispose of the ship as it had +become unfit for service. Popular sentiment did not approve of this. It was +said a ship which was the pride of the nation should continue to be the +property of the Navy and be rebuilt for service when needed. Holmes wrote +this poem at the time of this discussion. + + +Notes and Questions. + +Of what does the first stanza treat? + +The second? + +What does the third stanza tell you? + +To what does "tattered ensign" refer? + +What is "The meteor of the ocean air"? + +What is meant by lines 15 and 16? + +Where does Holmes say should be the grave of Old Ironsides? Why? + +Explain lines 23 and 24. + +Which lines do you like best? Why? + + +Words and Phrases for Discussion. + + "sweep the clouds" + "conquered knee" + "mighty deep" + "vanquished foe" + "The god of storms" + "threadbare sail" + "victor's tread" + "shattered hulk" + + * * * * * + +THE BOYS + +OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES + + + Has there any old fellow got mixed with the boys? + If there has, take him out, without making a noise. + Hang the Almanac's cheat and the Catalogue's spite! + Old Time is a liar! We're twenty tonight! + + We're twenty! We're twenty! Who says we are more? + He's tipsy,--young jackanapes!--show him the door! + "Gray temples at twenty?"--Yes! _white_ if we please; + Where the snow-flakes fall thickest there's nothing can freeze! + + Was it snowing I spoke of? Excuse the mistake! + Look close,--you will see not a sign of a flake! + We want some new garlands for those we have shed,-- + And these are white roses in place of the red. + + We've a trick, we young fellows, you may have been told, + Of talking (in public) as if we were old:-- + That boy we call "Doctor," and this we call "Judge"; + It's a neat little fiction,--of course it's all fudge. + + That fellow's the "Speaker,"--the one on the right; + "Mr. Mayor," my young one, how are you tonight? + That's our "Member of Congress," we say when we chaff; + There's the "Reverend" What's his name?--don't make me laugh. + + That boy with the grave mathematical look + Made believe he had written a wonderful book, + And the ROYAL SOCIETY thought it was _true!_ + So they chose him right in; a good joke it was, too! + + There's a boy, we pretend, with a three-decker brain, + That could harness a team with a logical chain; + When he spoke for our manhood in syllabled fire, + We called him "The Justice," but now he's "The Squire." + + And there's a nice youngster of excellent pith,-- + Fate tried to conceal him by naming him Smith; + But he shouted a song for the brave and the free,-- + Just read on his medal, "My country, ... of thee!" + + You hear that boy laughing?--You think he's all fun; + But the angels laugh, too, at the good he has done; + The children laugh loud as they troop to his call, + And the poor man that knows him laughs loudest of all! + + Yes, we're boys,--always playing with tongue or with pen,-- + And I sometimes have asked,--Shall we ever be men? + Shall we always be youthful, and laughing, and gay, + Till the last dear companion drops smiling away? + + Then here's to our boyhood, its gold and its gray! + The stars of its winter, the dews of its May! + And when we have done with our life-lasting toys, + Dear Father, take care of thy children, THE BOYS. + + + +HELPS TO STUDY. + +Historical: This poem was read by Oliver Wendell Holmes at a reunion of his +college class thirty years after their graduation. + + +Notes and Questions. + +Who were "the boys"? + +What was the "Almanac's cheat"? + +What catalogue do you think Holmes meant? + +How could it be interpreted as showing spite against "the boys"? + +How did the poet defend "gray temples at twenty"? + +What was the significance in early times of the garland or wreath upon the +head? + +What do you think the garlands which the poet imagines his classmates "have +shed" represent? + +Of what does Holmes say their new garlands were made? + +What might the "new garlands" represent? + +What fancy does the poet carry out in the next stanza? + +What song did the "nice youngster" write? + +What is his full name? + +What word is omitted from the line of the song quoted by Holmes? + +How do you think Holmes felt toward the laughing "boy"? Why do you think +so? + +Can you name anything besides, "tongue and pen" with which men may be said +to play? + +What time of life is meant by the "gold"? By the "gray"? + +How much of this poem is fun? + +Which stanza do you like best? Why? + +What do you know about Oliver Wendell Holmes from this poem? + + +Words and Phrases for Discussion. + + "Royal Society" + "three-decker brain" + "excellent pith" + "life-lasting toys" + + * * * * * + + +THE LAST LEAF + +OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES + + + I saw him once before, + As he passed by the door, + And again + The pavement stones resound, + As he totters o'er the ground + With his cane. + + They say that in his prime, + Ere the pruning-knife of Time + Cut him down, + Not a better man was found + By the Crier on his round + Through the town. + + But now he walks the streets, + And he looks at all he meets + Sad and wan, + And he shakes his feeble head, + That it seems as if he said, + "They are gone." + + The mossy marbles rest + On the lips that he has prest + In their bloom, + And the names he loved to hear + Have been carved for many a year + On the tomb. + + My grandmamma has said,-- + Poor old lady, she is dead + Long ago,-- + That he had a Roman nose + And his cheek was like a rose + In the snow. + + But now his nose is thin, + And it rests upon his chin + Like a staff, + And a crook is in his back, + And a melancholy crack + In his laugh. + + I know it is a sin + For me to sit and grin + At him here; + But the old three-cornered hat, + And the breeches, and all that, + Are so queer! + + And if I should live to be + The last leaf upon the tree + In the spring, + Let them smile, as I do now, + At the old forsaken bough + Where I cling. + + + +HELPS TO STUDY. + + +Notes and Questions. + +What was the office of the Crier? + +What has done away with the necessity for such service? + +At what time was the costume described in the seventh stanza worn? + +What great men can you mention who are pictured in this dress? + +What makes the description of the old man so vivid? + +How does he resemble "the last leaf on the tree"? + +Of whom is Holmes thinking when he says "Let them smile"? + +What is added to the picture of the last leaf by the words "Is the spring"? + + +Words and Phrases for Discussion. + + "pruning knife of Time" + "mossy marbles" + + * * * * * + + +JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL + +JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL was born at Cambridge in the beautiful house known as +Elmwood. He was more fortunate than most Americans, for in this same house +he lived and died. The dwelling at Elmwood was like Craigie House, an +historic place of Revolutionary memories. The secluded, ample grounds made +a fine rural refuge for a youth of poetic fancies. Nor was there only +wealth for the nature-lover of outdoors; there were also treasures for the +lover of books within. The Lowell library was the accumulation of several +generations of scholarly men, and Lowell from early youth was familiar with +books which Whittier even in the studious leisure of old age never looked +into. + +Lowell was twelve years younger than Longfellow and was a sophomore when +Longfellow went to Harvard as professor of Romance languages. At Harvard +Lowell distinguished himself especially in literary matters. In the last +year of his residence he was one of the editors of the college magazine and +was also elected class poet. Although he studied law, he was never +attracted to the practice of it. + +Lowell, like Whittier, could turn from the heat and strife of public +affairs to the solace of pure poetry. Inspired by the legend of the Holy +Grail, he wrote within forty-eight hours, so we are told, the poem of +knightly aspiration and brotherly love, "The Vision of Sir Launfal." + +In 1856, upon Longfellow's resignation, Lowell was appointed professor of +Romance Languages at Harvard, and, like Longfellow, he remained for twenty +years. In 1857 a new magazine to which Holmes had given the name "Atlantic +Monthly" was established and Lowell was its first editor. + +In 1877 Lowell was appointed minister to Spain, where Irving had been sent +more than thirty years before; and in 1880 he was transferred to the court +of St. James. Here he distinguished himself by tact, courtesy, and wisdom +and won the admiration of the English people. + +Returning to America in 1885 Lowell continued to write, and delivered +addresses when his strength would permit. He spent his time among his books +and lived peacefully at Elmwood, where he died in 1891 at the age of +seventy-two. + + * * * * * + + +THE VISION OF SIR LAUNFAL + +JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL + +PRELUDE TO PART FIRST + + + Over his keys the musing organist. + Beginning doubtfully and far away, + First lets his fingers wander as they list, + And builds a bridge from Dreamland for his lay: + + Then, as the touch of his loved instrument + Gives hope and fervor, nearer draws his theme, + First guessed by faint auroral flushes sent + Along the wavering vista of his dream. + + * * * * * + + Not only around our infancy + Doth heaven with all its splendors lie; + Daily, with souls that cringe and plot, + We Sinais climb and know it not. + Over our manhood bend the skies; + Against our fallen and traitor lives + The great winds utter prophecies; + With our faint hearts the mountain strives; + Its arms outstretched, the Druid wood + Waits with its benedicite; + And to our age's drowsy blood + Still shouts the inspiring sea. + Earth gets its price for what Earth gives us; + The beggar is taxed for a corner to die in, + The priest hath his fee who comes and shrives us. + We bargain for the graves we lie in; + At the Devil's booth are all things sold, + Each ounce of dross costs its ounce of gold; + For a cap and bells our lives we pay, + Bubbles we buy with a whole soul's tasking: + 'Tis heaven alone that is given away, + 'Tis only God may be had for the asking; + No price is set on the lavish summer; + June may be had by the poorest comer. + + And what is so rare as a day in June? + Then, if ever, come perfect days; + Then Heaven tries earth if it be in tune, + And over it softly her warm ear lays; + Whether we look, or whether we listen, + We hear life murmur, or see it glisten; + Every clod feels a stir of might, + An instinct within it that reaches and towers, + And, groping blindly above it for light, + Climbs to a soul in grass and flowers; + The flush of life may well be seen + Thrilling back over hills and valleys; + The cowslip startles in meadows green, + The buttercup catches the sun in its chalice, + And there's never a leaf or a blade too mean + To be some happy creature's palace; + The little bird sits at his door in the sun, + Atilt like a blossom among the leaves, + And lets his illumined being o'errun + With the deluge of summer it receives; + His mate feels the eggs beneath her wings, + And the heart in her dumb breast flutters and sings; + He sings to the wide world, and she to her nest,-- + In the nice ear of Nature which song is the best? + + Now is the high-tide of the year, + And whatever of life hath ebbed away + Comes flooding back with a ripply cheer, + Into every bare inlet and creek and bay; + Now the heart is so full that a drop overfills it, + We are happy now because God wills it; + No matter how barren the past may have been, + 'Tis enough for us now that the leaves are green; + We sit in the warm shade and feel right well + How the sap creeps up and the blossoms swell; + We may shut our eyes, but we cannot help knowing + That skies are clear and grass is growing; + The breeze comes whispering in our ear, + That dandelions are blossoming near, + That maize has sprouted, that streams are flowing, + That the river is bluer than the sky, + That the robin is plastering his house hard by; + And if the breeze kept the good news back, + For other couriers we should not lack; + We could guess it all by yon heifer's lowing,-- + And hark! how clear bold chanticleer, + Warmed with the new wine of the year, + Tells all in his lusty crowing! + + Joy comes, grief goes, we know not how: + Everything is happy now, + Everything is upward striving; + 'Tis as easy now for the heart to be true + As for grass to be green or skies to be blue,-- + 'Tis the natural way of living: + Who knows whither the clouds have fled? + In the unscarred heaven they leave no wake; + And the eyes forget the tears they have shed, + The heart forgets its sorrow and ache; + The soul partakes the season's youth, + And the sulphurous rifts of passion and woe + Lie deep 'neath a silence pure and smooth, + Like burnt-out craters healed with snow. + What wonder if Sir Launfal now + Remembered the keeping of his vow? + +PART FIRST + +I. + + "My golden spurs now bring to me, + And bring to me my richest mail, + For tomorrow I go over land and sea + In search of the Holy Grail; + Shall never a bed for me be spread, + Nor shall a pillow be under my head, + Till I begin my vow to keep; + Here on the rushes will I sleep, + And perchance there may come a vision true + Ere day create the world anew." + Slowly Sir Launfal's eyes grew dim, + Slumber fell like a cloud on him, + And into his soul the vision flew. + +II. + + The crows flapped over by twos and threes, + In the pool drowsed the cattle up to their knees, + The little birds sang as if it were + The one day of summer in all the year, + And the very leaves seemed to sing on the trees; + The castle alone in the landscape lay + Like an outpost of winter, dull and gray: + 'Twas the proudest hall in the North Countree, + And never its gates might opened be, + Save to lord or lady of high degree; + Summer besieged it on every side, + But the churlish stone her assaults defied; + She could not scale the chilly wall, + Though around it for leagues her pavilions tall + Stretched left and right, + Over the hills and out of sight; + Green and broad was every tent, + And out of each a murmur went + Till the breeze fell off at night. + +III. + + The drawbridge dropped with a surly clang, + And through the dark arch a charger sprang, + Bearing Sir Launfal, the maiden knight, + In his gilded mail, that flamed so bright + It seemed the dark castle had gathered all + Those shafts the fierce sun had shot over its wall + In his siege of three hundred summers long, + And, binding them all in one blazing sheaf, + Had cast them forth: so, young and strong, + And lightsome as a locust-leaf, + Sir Launfal flashed forth in his unscarred mail, + To seek in all climes for the Holy Grail. + +IV. + + It was morning on hill and stream and tree, + And morning in the young knight's heart; + Only the castle moodily + Rebuffed the gifts of the sunshine free, + And gloomed by itself apart; + The season brimmed all other things up + Full as the rain fills the pitcher-plant's cup. + +V. + + As Sir Launfal made morn through the darksome gate, + He was 'ware of a leper, crouched by the same, + Who begged with his hand and moaned as he sate; + And a loathing over Sir Launfal came; + The sunshine went out of his soul with a thrill, + The flesh 'neath his armor did shrink and crawl, + And midway its leap his heart stood still + Like a frozen waterfall; + For this man, so foul and bent of stature, + Rasped harshly against his dainty nature, + And seemed the one blot on the summer morn,-- + So he tossed him a piece of gold in scorn. + +VI. + + The leper raised not the gold from the dust: + "Better to me the poor man's crust, + Better the blessing of the poor, + Though I turn me empty from his door; + That is no true alms which the hand can hold; + He gives nothing but worthless gold + Who gives from a sense of duty; + But he who gives but a slender mite, + And gives to that which is out of sight, + That thread of the all-sustaining Beauty + Which runs through all and doth all unite,-- + The hand cannot clasp the whole of his alms, + The heart outstretches its eager palms, + For a god goes with it and makes it store + To the soul that was starving in darkness before." + +PRELUDE TO PART SECOND + + Down swept the chill wind from the mountain peak, + From the snow five thousand summers old; + On open wold and hilltop bleak + It had gathered all the cold, + And whirled it like sleet on the wanderer's cheek; + It carried a shiver everywhere + From the unleafed boughs and pastures bare; + The little brook heard it and built a roof + 'Neath which he could house him, winter-proof; + All night by the white stars' frosty gleams + He groined his arches and matched his beams; + Slender and clear were his crystal spars + As the lashes of light that trim the stars; + He sculptured every summer delight + In his halls and chambers out of sight; + Sometimes his tinkling waters slipt + Down through a frost-leaved forest-crypt, + Long, sparkling aisles of steel-stemmed trees + Bending to counterfeit a breeze; + Sometimes the roof no fretwork knew + But silvery mosses that downward grew; + Sometimes it was carved in sharp relief + With quaint arabesques of ice-fern leaf; + Sometimes it was simply smooth and clear + For the gladness of heaven to shine through, and here + He had caught the nodding bulrush-tops + And hung them thickly with diamond-drops, + That crystalled the beams of moon and sun, + And made a star of every one: + No mortal builder's most rare device + Could match this winter-palace of ice; + 'Twas as if every image that mirrored lay + In his depths serene through the summer day, + Each fleeting shadow of earth and sky, + Lest the happy model should be lost, + Had been mimicked in fairy masonry + By the elfin builders of the frost. + + Within the hall are song and laughter, + The cheeks of Christmas grow red and jolly, + And sprouting is every corbel and rafter + With lightsome green of ivy and holly; + Through the deep gulf of the chimney wide + Wallows the Yule-log's roaring tide; + The broad flame-pennons droop and flap + And belly and tug as a flag in the wind; + Like a locust shrills the imprisoned sap, + Hunted to death in its galleries blind; + And swift little troops of silent sparks, + Now pausing, now scattering away as in fear, + Go threading the soot-forest's tangled darks + Like herds of startled deer. + + But the wind without was eager and sharp, + Of Sir Launfal's gray hair it makes a harp, + And rattles and wrings + The icy strings, + Singing, in dreary monotone, + A Christmas carol of its own, + Whose burden still, as he might guess, + Was "Shelterless, shelterless, shelterless!" + The voice of the seneschal flared like a torch + As he shouted the wanderer away from the porch, + And he sat in the gateway and saw all night + The great hall-fire, so cheery and bold, + Through the window-slits of the castle old, + Build out its piers of ruddy light + Against the drift of the cold. + +PART SECOND + +I. + + There was never a leaf on bush or tree, + The bare boughs rattled shudderingly; + The river was dumb and could not speak, + For the weaver Winter its shroud had spun; + A single crow on the tree-top bleak + From his shining feathers shed off the cold sun; + Again it was morning, but shrunk and cold. + As if her veins were sapless and old, + And she rose up decrepitly + For a last dim look at earth and sea. + +II. + + Sir Launfal turned from his own hard gate, + For another heir in his earldom sate; + An old, bent man, worn out and frail, + He came back from seeking the Holy Grail; + Little he recked of his earldom's loss, + No more on his surcoat was blazoned the cross, + But deep in his soul the sign he wore, + The badge of the suffering and the poor. + +III. + + Sir Launfal's raiment thin and spare + Was idle mail 'gainst the barbed air, + For it was just at the Christmas time; + So he mused, as he sat, of a sunnier clime, + And sought for a shelter from cold and snow + In the light and warmth of long ago; + He sees the snake-like caravan crawl + O'er the edge of the desert, black and small, + Then nearer and nearer, till, one by one, + He can count the camels in the sun, + As over the red-hot sands they pass + To where, in its slender necklace of grass, + The little spring laughed and leapt in the shade, + And with its own self like an infant played, + And waved its signal of palms. + +IV. + + "For Christ's sweet sake, I beg an alms;"-- + The happy camels may reach the spring, + But Sir Launfal sees naught save the grewsome thing, + The leper, lank as the rain-blanched bone, + That cowers beside him, a thing as lone + And white as the ice-isles of Northern seas + In the desolate horror of his disease. + +V. + + And Sir Launfal said, "I behold in thee + An image of Him who died on the tree; + Thou also hast had thy crown of thorns, + Thou also hast had the world's buffets and scorns, + And to thy life were not denied + The wounds in the hands and feet and side: + Mild Mary's Son, acknowledge me; + Behold, through him, I give to Thee!" + +VI. + + Then the soul of the leper stood up in his eyes + And looked at Sir Launfal, and straightway he + Remembered in what a haughtier guise + He had flung an alms to leprosie, + When he caged his young life up in gilded mail + And set forth in search of the Holy Grail. + The heart within him was ashes and dust; + He parted in twain his single crust, + He broke the ice on the streamlet's brink, + And gave the leper to eat and drink: + 'Twas a mouldy crust of coarse brown bread, + 'Twas water out of a wooden bowl,-- + Yet with fine wheaten bread was the leper fed, + And 'twas red wine he drank with his thirsty soul. + +VII. + + As Sir Launfal mused with a downcast face, + A light shone round about the place; + The leper no longer crouched at his side, + But stood before him glorified, + Shining and tall and fair and straight + As the pillar that stood by the Beautiful Gate,-- + Himself the Gate whereby men can + Enter the temple of God in Man. + +VIII. + + His words were shed softer than leaves from the pine, + And they fell on Sir Launfal as snows on the brine, + That mingle their softness and quiet in one + With the shaggy unrest they float down upon; + And the voice that was calmer than silence said, + "Lo, it is I, be not afraid! + In many climes, without avail, + Thou hast spent thy life for the Holy Grail; + Behold, it is here,--this cup which thou + Didst fill at the streamlet for Me but now; + This crust is My body broken for thee; + This water His blood that died on the tree; + The Holy Supper is kept, indeed, + In whatso we share with another's need: + Not what we give, but what we share,-- + For the gift without the giver is bare; + Who gives himself with his alms feeds three,-- + Himself, his hungering neighbor, and Me." + +IX. + + Sir Launfal awoke as from a swound:-- + "The Grail in my castle here is found! + Hang my idle armor up on the wall, + Let it be the spider's banquet-hall; + He must be fenced with stronger mail + Who would seek and find the Holy Grail." + +X. + + The castle gate stands open now, + And the wanderer is welcome to the hall + As the hangbird is to the elm-tree bough; + No longer scowl the turrets tall, + The Summer's long siege at last is o'er; + When the first poor outcast went in at the door, + She entered with him in disguise, + And mastered the fortress by surprise; + There is no spot she loves so well on ground, + She lingers and smiles there the whole year round; + The meanest serf on Sir Launfal's land + Has hall and bower at his command; + And there's no poor man in the North Countree + But is lord of the earldom as much as he. + + + +HELPS TO STUDY. + + +Notes and Questions. + +Into what two parts does the poem divide? + +What purpose does the prelude to each part serve? + +What were the conditions under which Sir Launfal set out in search of the +Holy Grail? + +How did the sight of the leper affect the young knight when he "flashed +forth" from his castle? + +How did the leper explain his refusal of the alms tossed him? + +What picture does the prelude to Part Second give you? Contrast it with +that of the prelude to Part First. + +Describe Sir Launfal's appearance on his return from his quest. + +What had he lost while on his search? + +What had he gained? + +Describe the second meeting with the leper. + +How much of this story was a dream? Explain why you think so. + +With what line does Lowell begin the account of Sir Launfal's vision? + +What effect did the dream or vision have upon Sir Launfal? + +What do you think is the great lesson of this poem? + +Of whom is Sir Launfal a type? + +What does the cold grim castle represent? + +Find lines in the prelude to Part First which show the first stirring of +Sir Launfal's spiritual nature. What influences prompted this? + +Why did Lowell choose a leper to confront Sir Launfal? + + +Words and Phrases for Discussion. + + "We Sinais climb and know it not" + "Behold it is here--the Grail in my castle here is found" + "With our faint hearts the mountain strives" + "Then Heaven tries earth if it be in tune" + "For a god goes with it" + "Himself the Gate whereby men can Enter the temple of God in Man" + "She entered with him in disguise" + "He must be fenced with stronger mail" + + * * * * * + + +YUSSOUF + +JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL + + + A stranger came one night to Yussouf's tent, + Saying, "Behold one outcast and in dread, + Against whose life the bow of power is bent, + Who flies, and hath not where to lay his head; + I come to thee for shelter and for food, + To Yussouf, called through all our tribes 'The Good.'" + + "This tent is mine," said Yussouf, "but no more + Than it is God's; come in, and be at peace; + Freely shalt thou partake of all my store + As I of His who buildeth over these + Our tents His glorious roof of night and day, + And at whose door none ever yet heard 'Nay.'" + + So Yussouf entertained his guest that night, + And, waking him ere day, said: "Here is gold; + My swiftest horse is saddled for thy flight; + Depart before the prying day grow bold." + As one lamp lights another, nor grows less, + So nobleness enkindleth nobleness. + + That inward light the stranger's face made grand, + Which shines from all self-conquest; kneeling low, + He bowed his forehead upon Yussouf's hand, + + Sobbing: "O, Sheik, I cannot leave thee so; + I will repay thee; all this thou hast done + Unto that Ibrahim who slew thy son!" + + "Take thrice the gold," said Yussouf, "for with thee + Into the desert, never to return, + My one black thought shall ride away from me; + First-born, for whom by day and night I yearn, + Balanced and just are all of God's decrees; + Thou art avenged, my first-born, sleep in peace!" + + + +HELPS TO STUDY. + + +Notes and Questions. + +Where do you think the scene of this poem was laid? Give the reason for +your answer. + +What do you know of the habits of people who live in tents? + +What virtues would men living in this way most admire? Why? + +How do you think Yussouf had won his title of "The Good"? + +To what does the stranger compare himself? + +What does the bending of the bow signify? + +To what tribes does the stranger refer? + +What do you learn of Yussouf's character from the second and third stanzas? + +What emotions made the stranger's face "grand"? + +What do you suppose Yussouf's "one black thought" had been? + +How did he avenge his son? + +When does Yussouf show himself most noble? + + +Words and Phrases for Discussion. + + "prying day" + "self-conquest" + "nobleness enkindleth nobleness" + "for whom by day and night I yearn" + + * * * * * + + +SIDNEY LANIER + +Sidney Lanier is a poet of the South who year by year appeals to a larger +number of lovers of good literature. He was born in Georgia of Huguenot and +Scotch ancestry and when only a small lad showed great talent and love for +music. His mother encouraged him in this, and from beginning with clapping +bones it was not long before he learned to play on the guitar, banjo, +violin, and flute. On the Christmas when he was seven years old he was +given a small one-keyed flute, and from that time on the flute became his +favorite instrument. When he grew to manhood he became first flutist in the +Baltimore orchestra. So passionately fond was he of music that he could +scarcely decide between that and poetry as his choice for a profession. + +He was graduated from a Georgia college at the age of eighteen, and in the +following year, 1861, he enlisted in the Southern army. His younger +brother, Clifford, of whom he was very fond, also enlisted, and when +opportunities for promotion came to both they declined rather than be +separated. They engaged in many battles, but Sidney Lanier found time, even +during the war, to continue his study. In 1864 he was taken prisoner, while +doing duty as a signal officer, and spent five months in Point Lookout +prison. He came home from the hardships of war broken in health, so that +from that time on his life was one fierce struggle against disease. + +From the time when as a boy he spent hours in his father's library reading +the tales of King Arthur, the stories of romantic chivalry were of +absorbing interest to him. He understood and loved boys, for he had four of +his own, and for these he has written "The Boy's Froissart," "The Boy's +King Arthur" and the "Knightly Legends of Wales." + +In 1879 he was appointed lecturer on English literature at the Johns +Hopkins University, and his prospects were at last brightening when two +years later he died. During the last seven years of his life, struggling +ever with poverty and pain, he wrote his one volume of poetry. His poems +show his great faith--indeed, his poem, "The Marshes of Glynn," is religion +set to music. + + * * * * * + +THE MARSHES OF GLYNN + +SIDNEY LANIER + + O braided dusks of the oak and woven shades of the vine, + While the riotous noonday sun of the June day long did shine + Ye held me fast in your heart and I held you fast in mine; + But now when the noon is no more, and riot is rest, + And the sun is a-wait at the ponderous gate of the West, + And the slant yellow beam down the wood aisle doth seem + Like a lane into heaven that leads from a dream,-- + Aye, now, when my soul all day hath drunken the soul of the oak, + And my heart is at ease from men, and the wearisome sound of the stroke + Of the scythe of time and the trowel of trade is low, + And belief overmasters doubt, and I know that I know, + And my spirit is grown to a lordly great compass within, + That the length and the breadth and the sweep of the marshes of Glynn + Will work me no fear like the fear they have wrought me of yore + When length was fatigue, and when breadth was but bitterness sore, + And when terror and shrinking and dreary unnamable pain + Drew over me out of the merciless miles of the plain,-- + Oh, now, unafraid, I am fain to face + The vast, sweet visage of space. + To the edge of the wood I am drawn, I am drawn, + Where the gray beach glimmering runs, as a belt of the dawn, + For a mete and a mark + To the forest dark:-- + So: + Affable live oak, leaning low,-- + Thus--with your favor--soft, with a reverent hand, + (Not lightly touching your person, lord of the land!) + Bending your beauty aside, with a step I stand + On the firm-packed sand, + Free + By a world of marsh, that borders a world of sea. + Sinuous southward and sinuous northward the shimmering band + Of the sand beach fastens the fringe of the marsh to the folds of the +land. + Vanishing, swerving, evermore curving again into sight, + Softly the sand beach wavers away to a dim gray looping of light. + And what if behind me to westward the wall of the woods stands high? + The world lies east: how ample the marsh and the sea and the sky! + A league and a league of marsh grass, waist-high, broad in the blade, + Green, and all of a height, and unflecked with a light or a shade, + Stretch leisurely off, in a pleasant plain, + To the terminal blue of the main. + Oh, what is abroad in the marsh and the terminal sea? + Somehow my soul seems suddenly free + From the weighing of fate and the sad discussion of sin, + By the length and the breadth and the sweep of the marshes of Glynn. + Ye marshes, how candid and simple and nothing-withholding and free + Ye publish yourselves to the sky and offer yourselves to the sea! + Tolerant plains, that suffer the sea and the rains and the sun, + Ye spread and span like the catholic man who hath mightily won + God out of knowledge and good out of infinite pain + And sight out of blindness and purity out of a stain. + As the marsh hen secretly builds on the watery sod, + Behold I will build me a nest on the greatness of God! + I will fly in the greatness of God as the marsh hen flies + In the freedom that fills all the space 'twixt the marsh and the skies: + By so many roots as the marsh grass sends in the sod + I will heartily lay me a-hold on the greatness of God: + Oh, like to the greatness of God is the greatness within + The range of the marshes, the liberal marshes of Glynn. + And the sea lends large, as the marsh: lo, out of his plenty the sea + Pours fast: full soon the time of the flood tide must be: + Look how the grace of the sea doth go + About and about through the intricate channels that flow + Here and there, + Everywhere, + Till his waters have flooded the uttermost creeks and the low-lying +lanes, + And the marsh is meshed with a million veins, + That like as with rosy and silvery essences flow + In the rose-and-silver evening glow. + Farewell, my lord Sun! + The creeks overflow: a thousand rivulets run + 'Twixt the roots of the sod; the blades of the marsh grass stir; + Passeth a hurrying sound of wings that westward whir; + Passeth, and all is still; and the currents cease to run; + And the sea and the marsh are one. + How still the plains of the waters be! + The tide is in his ecstasy; + The tide is at its highest height: + And it is night. + And now from the Vast of the Lord will the waters of sleep + Roll in on the souls of men, + But who will reveal to our waking ken + The forms that swim and the shapes that creep + Under the waters of sleep? + And I would I could know what swimmeth below when the tide comes in + On the length and the breadth of the marvelous marshes of Glynn. + + + + +HELPS TO STUDY. + + +Notes and Questions. + +What can you tell of the coastal plain in Georgia? + +What effect on the poet had the "dusks of the oak" at noon? + +At sunset what appealed more strongly to him? + +How does the poet account for his lack of fear of the marshes now? + +In the marsh region what is "lord of the land"? + +What characteristics of the marshes does the poet point out? + +What comparisons are found in lines fifty to fifty-five? + +To what does the poet compare the extent of the marshes of Glynn? + +In this region when does the flood tide come? What tells you? + +Which picture in the poem do you like best? + +Explain: "Passeth a hurrying sound of wings that westward whir." + +What is the meaning of the last nine lines? + +Do you like this poem? Why? What can you tell of the author? + +Point out parts that you like best. + +Find examples of alliteration. + +Why does the poet repeat "I am drawn"? + +Select lines that are especially beautiful. + + +Words and Phrases for Discussion. + + "glimmering" + "Vanishing" + "swerving" + "Like a lane into heaven that leads from a dream" + "Bending your beauty aside" + "intricate channels" + "uttermost creeks" + +"Glynn"--a county in Georgia which borders on the Atlantic. + +"live oak"--a species of oak found along the coasts of the southern states. + +"catholic man"--a broad-minded man. + +"braided dusks"--shadows of branches crossing one another. + +"woven shades"--shadows interlacing. + +"riotous noonday sun"--beating down hard. + +"ye held me fast in your heart"--attracted and delighted me. + +"I held you fast in mine"--loved, enjoyed. + +"riot is rest"--the heat of the day is past, all is quiet. + +"a-wait"--waiting. + +"ponderous gate"--vast western horizon at sunset. + +"wood aisle"--path of sun's rays in the woods at sunset. + +"drunken the soul of the oak"--absorbed its strength. + +"scythe of time"--symbol of death. + +"trowel of trade"--symbol of industry. + +"belief overmasters doubt"--inner confidence, faith takes the place of +uncertainty. + +"I know that I know"--become self-confident thro' a Power greater than +self. + +"My spirit grows to a lordly great compass within"--My soul becomes its own +confident guide, relying on a Power greater than self. + +"When length was fatigue"--tiresome to look at--he was unable to understand +it. + +"breadth was but bitterness sore"--so vast as to be disappointing and +beyond his ability to know and control. + +"drew over me out of the merciless miles of the plain"--The vastness of the +marshes filled him with fear and awe. + +"sweet visage of space"--He came to love the view of the marshes. + +"belt of the dawn"--the line where the gray beach and the woods come +together is like the horizon at daybreak. + +"For a mete and a mark"--a line to measure and distinguish the limits of +the marsh. + +"affable live oak"--friendly, kindly. + +"lord of the land"--the oak tree. + +"sinuous southward"--irregular line connecting wood and marsh. + +"fastens the fringe of the marsh to the folds of the land"--the line which +marks the coming together of the marsh and the land--"the shimmering band." + +"gray looping of light"--the light reflected or thrown back from the woods +in the dim distance. + +"terminal blue of the main"--the sea coast, the coast line. + +"weighing of fate"--serious thoughts of the future. + +"publish yourselves"--to show or to expose. + +"offer yourselves"--the sea overruns the marsh. + +"Tolerant plains"--generous, broad, liberal. + +"mightily won God out of Knowledge"--won thro' kindness and love, and +broad-mindedness. + +"good out of infinite pain"--was helped by suffering to become noble and +true. + +"build me a nest on the greatness of God"--to establish himself on the +principles of the great Power. + +"lay me a-hold on the greatness of God"--to lay hold of this Heavenly +beauty and goodness and greatness. + +"liberal marshes"--great, broad. Thro' these he learned the beauty of +greatness and of broad-mindedness in man, and from that to the greatness of +God was but a natural step. + +"sea lends large"--sends its waters out in tides over the marsh country +twice a day. + +"grace of the sea"--the generous waters of the sea. + +"rosy and silvery essences"--relates to the color of the water in the +channel, as determined by the setting sun's rays. + +"passeth a hurrying sound of wings"--a sound of wings hurrying past. + +"is in his ecstasy"--the tide has reached its highest point--it is the +moment of accomplishment; the task is finished. + +"Vast of the Lord"--The influence of God upon men is compared to that of +the tides of the sea upon the marshes. + +"waking ken"--Who can tell us the meaning of our dreams? + + * * * * * + + + + +PART III + +ORATIONS AND PATRIOTIC SELECTIONS + +_"Stirred up with high hopes of living to be brave men and worthy +patriots, dear to God and famous to all ages."_ + +--JOHN MILTON. + + * * * * * + + + +REGULUS BEFORE THE ROMAN SENATE + +EPES SARGENT + +It ill becomes me, Senators of Rome, me, Regulus, after having so often +stood in this venerable assembly, clothed with the supreme dignity of the +republic, to stand before you to-day, a captive,--the captive of Carthage. +Though outwardly free, yet the heaviest of chains, the pledge of a Roman +Consul, makes me the bondsman of the Carthaginians. They have my promise to +return to them in the event of the failure of this their embassy. + +But, Conscript Fathers, Senators, there is but one course to be pursued. +Abandon all thought of peace! Reject the overtures of Carthage! Reject them +wholly and unconditionally! What? What? Give back to her a thousand +able-bodied men, and receive in return this one, attenuated, war-worn, +fever-wasted frame,--this weed, whitened in a dungeon's darkness, pale and +sapless, which no kindness of the sun, no softness of the summer breeze, +can ever restore to life and vigor? It must not, shall not be! Oh, were +Regulus what he was once, before captivity had unstrung his sinews and +enervated his limbs, he might pause; he might think he were worth a +thousand of the foe; he might say, "Make the exchange, Rome shall not lose +by it!" But now, alas, 'tis gone,--that impetuosity of strength which could +once make him a leader indeed, to penetrate a phalanx, or guide a pursuit. +His very armor would be a burden now! His battlecry would be drowned in the +din of onset! His sword would fall harmless upon his opponents shield! + +But if he cannot live, he can at least die, for his country. Do not deny +him this supreme consolation. Consider! Every indignity, every torture +which Carthage shall heap on his dying hours, will be better than a +trumpet's call to your armies. They will remember only Regulus, their +fellow-soldier and their leader. They will forget his defeats. They will +regard only his services to the Republic. Tunis, Sicily, Sardinia, every +well-fought field, won by his blood and theirs, will flash on their +remembrance and kindle their avenging wrath! + +And so shall Regulus, though dead, fight as he never fought before against +the foe. + +Conscript Fathers, there is another theme,--my family. Forgive the thought. +To you and to Rome, I commit them. I leave no legacy but my name, no +testament but my example. + +And you, ambassadors of Carthage, now in this august presence, I have +spoken, not as you expected. I am your captive. Lead me back to whatever +fate may await me. Doubt not that you shall find that to Roman hearts +country is dearer than life, and integrity more precious than freedom. + + +Epes Sargent, 1812-1880, was an American author and journalist. For a +number of years he was editor of the "Boston Evening Transcript." + +Historical: Regulus was a celebrated Roman general. As consul he led the +Roman forces against the Carthaginians and defeated them in a number of +engagements, but finally was himself defeated and taken prisoner by the +Carthaginians. After five years of captivity he was sent to Rome to +negotiate for peace and an exchange of prisoners. Though he had been +promised his liberty, if the Romans should accept the treaty, yet when he +appeared before the Roman senate, he denounced the terms most emphatically. +Accordingly he returned to Carthage, where he suffered a cruel death. + + * * * * * + + +THE RETURN OF REGULUS + +ELIJAH KELLOGG + +The beams of the rising sun had gilded the lofty domes of Carthage, and +given, with its rich and mellow light, a tinge of beauty even to the +frowning ramparts of the outer harbor. Sheltered by the verdant shores, a +hundred triremes were riding proudly at their anchors, their brazen beaks +glittering in the sun, their streamers dancing in the morning breeze, while +many a shattered plank and timber gave evidence of desperate conflict with +the fleets of Rome. + +No murmur of business or of revelry arose from the city. The artisan had +forsaken his shop, the judge his tribunal, the priest the sanctuary, and +even the stern stoic had come forth from his retirement to mingle with the +crowd that, anxious and agitated, were rushing toward the senate-house, +startled by the report that Regulus had returned to Carthage. + +Onward, still onward, trampling each other under foot, they rushed, furious +with anger, and eager for revenge. Fathers were there, whose sons were +groaning in fetters; maidens, whose lovers, weak and wounded, were dying in +the dungeons of Rome, and gray-haired men and matrons, whom the Roman sword +had left childless. + +But when the stern features of Regulus were seen, and his colossal form +towering above the ambassadors who had returned with him from Rome; when +the news passed from lip to lip that the dreaded warrior, so far from +advising the Roman senate to consent to an exchange of prisoners, had urged +them to pursue, with exterminating vengeance, Carthage and +Carthaginians,--the multitude swayed to and fro like a forest beneath a +tempest, and the rage and hate of that tumultuous throng vented itself in +groans, and curses, and yells of vengeance. + +But calm, cold, and immovable as the marble walls around him, stood the +Roman; and he stretched out his hand over that frenzied crowd, with gesture +as proudly commanding as though he still stood at the head of the gleaming +cohorts of Rome. The tumult ceased; the curse, half muttered, died upon the +lip; and so intense was the silence, that the clanking of the brazen +manacles upon the wrists of the captive fell sharp and full upon every ear +in that vast assembly, as he thus addressed them:-- + +"Ye doubtless thought--for ye judge of Roman virtue by your own--that I +would break my plighted oath, rather than, returning, brook your vengeance. +I might give reasons for this, in Punic comprehension, most foolish act of +mine. I might speak of those eternal principles which make death for one's +country a pleasure, not a pain. But, by great Jupiter! methinks I should +debase myself to talk of such high things to you; to you, expert in womanly +inventions; to you, well-skilled to drive a treacherous trade with simple +Africans for ivory and gold! + +"If the bright blood that fills my veins, transmitted free from godlike +ancestry, were like that slimy ooze which stagnates in your arteries, I had +remained at home, and broke my plighted oath to save my life. I am a Roman +citizen; therefore have I returned, that ye might work your will upon this +mass of flesh and bones, that I esteem no higher than the rags that cover +them. + +"Here, in your capital, do I defy you. Have I not conquered your armies, +fired your towns, and dragged your generals at my chariot wheels, since +first my youthful arms could wield a spear? And do you think to see me +crouch and cower before a tamed and shattered senate? The tearing of flesh +and rending of sinews is but pastime compared with the mental agony that +heaves my frame. + +"The moon has scarce yet waned since the proudest of Rome's proud matrons, +the mother upon whose breast I slept, and whose fair brow so oft had bent +over me before the noise of battle had stirred my blood, or the fierce toil +of war nerved my sinews, did, with fondest memory of bygone hours, entreat +me to remain. I have seen her, who, when my country called me to the field, +did buckle on my harness with trembling hands, while the tears fell thick +and fast down the hard corselet scales--I have seen her tear her gray locks +and beat her aged breast, as on her knees she begged me not to return to +Carthage! and all the assembled senate of Rome, grave and reverend men, +proffered the same request. The puny torments which ye have in store to +welcome me withal, shall be, to what I have endured, even as the murmur of +a summer's brook to the fierce roar of angry surges on a rocky beach. + +"Last night, as I lay fettered in my dungeon, I heard a strange, ominous +sound; it seemed like the distant march of some vast army, their harness +clanging as they marched, when suddenly there stood by me Xanthippus, the +Spartan general, by whose aid you conquered me, and, with a voice as low as +when the solemn wind moans through the leaflless forest, he thus addressed +me:-- + +"'Roman, I come to bid thee curse, with thy dying breath, this fated city: +know that in an evil moment, the Carthaginian generals, furious with rage +that I had conquered thee, their conqueror, did basely murder me. And then +they thought to stain my brightest honor. But, for this foul deed, the +wrath of Jove shall rest upon them here and hereafter.' And then he +vanished. + +"And now, go bring your sharpest torments. The woes I see impending over +this guilty realm shall be enough to sweeten death, though every nerve and +artery were a shooting pang. I die! but my death shall prove a proud +triumph; and, for every drop of blood ye from my veins do draw, your own +shall flow in rivers. + +"Woe to thee, Carthage! Woe to the proud city of the waters! I see thy +nobles wailing at the feet of Roman senators! thy citizens in terror! thy +ships in flames! I hear the victorious shouts of Rome! I see her eagles +glittering on thy ramparts. Proud city, thou art doomed! The curse of God +is on thee--a clinging, wasting curse. It shall not leave thy gates till +hungry flames shall lick the fretted gold from off thy proud palaces, and +every brook runs crimson to the sea." + + * * * * * + + +SPARTACUS TO THE GLADIATORS + +ELIJAH KELLOGG + +It had been a day of triumph in Capua. Lentulus, returning with victorious +eagles, had amused the populace with the sports of the amphitheatre to an +extent hitherto unknown even in that luxurious city. The shouts of revelry +had died away; the roar of the lion had ceased; the last loiterer had +retired from the banquet, and the lights in the palace of the victor were +extinguished. The moon, piercing the tissue of fleecy clouds, silvered the +dewdrop on the corselet of the Roman sentinel, and tipped the dark waters +of Volturnus with wavy, tremulous light. It was a night of holy calm, when +the zephyr sways the young spring leaves, and whispers among the hollow +reeds its dreamy music. No sound was heard but the last sob of some weary +wave, telling its story to the smooth pebbles of the beach, and then all +was still as the breast when the spirit has departed. + +In the deep recesses of the amphitheatre a band of gladiators were crowded +together,--their muscles still knotted with the agony of conflict, the foam +upon their lips, and the scowl of battle yet lingering upon their +brows,--when Spartacus, rising in the midst of that grim assemblage, thus +addressed them:-- + +"Ye call me chief, and ye do well to call him chief who, for twelve long +years, has met upon the arena every shape of man or beast that the broad +Empire of Rome could furnish, and yet never has lowered his arm. And if +there be one among you who can say that, ever, in public fight or private +brawl, my actions did belie my tongue, let him step forth and say it. If +there be three in all your throng dare face me on the bloody sand, let them +come on! + +"Yet, I was not always thus, a hired butcher, a savage chief of savage men. +My father was a reverent man, who feared great Jupiter, and brought to the +rural deities his offerings of fruits and flowers. He dwelt among the +vineclad rocks and olive groves at the foot of Helicon. My early life ran +quiet as the brook by which I sported. I was taught to prune the vine, to +tend the flock; and then, at noon, I gathered my sheep beneath the shade, +and played upon the shepherd's flute. I had a friend, the son of our +neighbor; we led our flocks to the same pasture, and shared together our +rustic meal. + +"One evening, after the sheep were folded, and we were all seated beneath +the myrtle that shaded our cottage, my grandsire, an old man, was telling +of Marathon and Leuctra, and how, in ancient times, a little band of +Spartans, in a defile of the mountains, withstood a whole army. I did not +then know what war meant; but my cheeks burned. I knew not why; and I +clasped the knees of that venerable man, till my mother, parting the hair +from off my brow, kissed my throbbing temples, and bade me go to rest, and +think no more of those old tales and savage wars. + +"That very night the Romans landed on our shore, and the clash of steel was +heard within our quiet vale. I saw the breast that had nourished me +trampled by the iron hoof of the warhorse; the bleeding body of my father +flung amid the blazing rafters of our dwelling. To-day I killed a man in +the arena, and when I broke his helmet clasps, behold! he was my friend! He +knew me,--smiled faintly,--gasped,--and died; the same sweet smile that I +had marked upon his face when, in adventurous boyhood, we scaled some lofty +cliff to pluck the first ripe grapes, and bear them home in childish +triumph. I told the praetor he was my friend, noble and brave, and I begged +his body, that I might burn it upon the funeral-pile, and mourn over him. +Ay, on my knees, amid the dust and blood of the arena, I begged that boon, +while all the Roman maids and matrons, and those holy virgins they call +vestal, and the rabble, shouted in mockery, deeming it rare sport, +forsooth, to see Rome's fiercest gladiator turn pale, and tremble like a +very child, before that piece of bleeding clay; but the praetor drew back +as if I were pollution, and sternly said, 'Let the carrion rot! There are +no noble men but Romans!' And he, deprived of funeral rites, must wander, a +hapless ghost, beside the waters of that sluggish river, and look--and +look--and look in vain to the bright Elysian Fields where dwell his +ancestors and noble kindred. And so must you, and so must I, die like dogs! + +"O Rome! Rome! thou hast been a tender nurse to me! Ay, thou hast given to +that poor, gentle, timid shepherd-lad, who never knew a harsher sound than +a flute-note, muscles of iron and a heart of flint; taught him to drive the +sword through rugged brass and plaited mail, and warm it in the marrow of +his foe! to gaze into the glaring eyeballs of the fierce Numidian lion, +even as a smooth-cheeked boy upon a laughing girl. And he shall pay thee +back till thy yellow Tiber is red as frothing wine, and in its deepest ooze +thy life-blood lies curdled! + +"Ye stand here now like giants, as ye are! the strength of brass is in your +toughened sinews; but to-morrow some Roman Adonis, breathing sweet odors +from his curly locks, shall come, and with his lily fingers pat your brawny +shoulders, and bet his sesterces upon your blood! Hark! Hear ye yon lion +roaring in his den? 'Tis three days since he tasted meat; but to-morrow he +shall break his fast upon your flesh; and ye shall be a dainty meal for +him. + +"If ye are brutes, then stand here like fat oxen waiting for the butcher's +knife; if ye are men, follow me! strike down yon sentinel, and gain the +mountain passes, and there do bloody work as did your sires at old +Thermopylae! Is Sparta dead? Is the old Grecian spirit frozen in your veins, +that you do crouch and cower like base-born slaves beneath your master's +lash? O comrades! warriors! Thracians! if we must fight, let us fight for +ourselves; if we must slaughter, let us slaughter our oppressors; if we +must die, let us die under the open sky, by the bright waters, in noble, +honorable battle." + + +Biographical and Historical: This is a supposed speech of Spartacus written +by Elijah Kellogg, a New England clergyman. Spartacus was a Thracian by +birth, who served in the Roman army. Having deserted, he was taken +prisoner, sold as a slave, and trained as a gladiator at Capua. He escaped +and gathered about him a large army of slaves and gladiators, with whom he +intended to push northward and allow them all to return to their homes. +They, however, after attacking many towns, were finally overcome. Spartacus +himself died in battle, and six thousand slaves were crucified on the road +from Capua to Rome. + +Capua was a city of great luxury, containing an amphitheater nearly as +large as the Coliseum at Rome. The ancients attached great importance to +the rites of burial, and believed that the soul could not reach the Elysian +Fields unless the body had been buried. + + * * * * * + + +MERIT BEFORE BIRTH + +TRANSLATED FROM SALLUST + +You have committed to my conduct, O Romans, the war against Jugurtha. The +patricians take offence. They say, "Why, he has no family statues. He can +point to no illustrious ancestors." What of that? Will dead ancestors or +motionless statues fight battles? Can your general appeal to them in the +hour of extremest danger? How wise it would be, surely, to intrust your +army to some untried person without a single scar, but with any number of +ancestral statues,--who knows not the simplest rudiments of military +service, but is very perfect in pedigree! I have known such holiday heroes, +raised, because of family, to positions for which they had no fitness. But, +then, in the moment of action they were obliged, in their ignorance and +trepidation, to intrust every movement, even the most simple, to some +subaltern, some despised plebeian. + +What they have seen in books, I have seen written on battlefields, with +steel and blood. They sneer at my mean origin. Where,--and may the gods +bear witness,--where, but in the spirit of man, is nobility lodged? Tell +these despicable railers that their haughty lineage cannot make them noble, +nor will my humble birth make me base. I profess no indifference to noble +descent; but when a descendant is dwarfed in the comparison, it should be a +shame, and not a matter to boast of! I can show the standards, the armor, +and the spoils which I have in person wrested from the vanquished. I can +show the scars of many wounds received in combating the enemies of Rome. +These are my statues! These are my honors, to boast of; not inherited by +accident, but earned by toil, by abstinence, by valor, amid clouds of dust +and seas of blood. Their titles date from similar acts of their ancestors; +but these detractors did not even dare to appear on the field as +spectators. These are my credentials! These, O Romans, are my titles of +nobility! Tell me, are they not as deserving of your confidence and reward +as those of which any patrician of them all can boast? + +Biographical and Historical: Sallust, the author of this selection, was a +famous Roman historian of the first century B. C. Caius Marius was the son +of a small farmer and worked his way up from this humble origin to the +highest position, that of consul, in spite of the determined opposition of +the senate, and the aristocracy. By the vote of the Roman people, he was +given command of the army in the campaign against Jugurtha, a prince who +had usurped the Numidian throne. + + * * * * * + + +RIENZI'S ADDRESS TO THE ROMANS + +MARY RUSSELL MITFORD + + + Friends! + I come not here to talk. You know too well + The story of our thralldom. We are slaves! + The bright sun rises to his course, and lights + A race of slaves! he sets, and his last beam + Falls on a slave!--not such as, swept along + By the full tide of power, the conqueror leads + To crimson glory and undying fame, + But base, ignoble slaves--slaves to a horde + Of petty tyrants; feudal despots; lords, + Rich in some dozen paltry villages, + Strong in some hundred spearmen; only great + In that strange spell--a name. + + Each hour dark fraud, + Or open rapine, or protected murder, + Cry out against them. But this very day, + An honest man, my neighbor--there he stands-- + Was struck--struck like a dog, by one who wore + The badge of Ursini, because, forsooth, + He tossed not high his ready cap in air, + Nor lifted up his voice in servile shouts + At sight of that great ruffian! Be we men, + And suffer such dishonor?--Men, and wash not + The stain away in blood? + + Such shames are common. + I have known deeper wrongs. I that speak to you, + I had a brother once, a gracious boy, + Full of gentleness, of calmest hope, + Of sweet and quiet joy: there was the look + Of heaven upon his face, which limners give + To the beloved disciple. How I loved + That gracious boy! Younger by fifteen years, + Brother at once and son! He left my side, + A summer bloom on his fair cheek, a smile + Parting his innocent lips: in one short hour, + The pretty, harmless boy was slain! I saw + The corse, the mangled corse, and then I cried + For vengeance! + + Rouse ye, Romans! rouse ye, slaves! + Have ye brave sons? Look in the next fierce brawl + To see them die. Have ye fair daughters? Look + To see them live, torn from your arms, distained, + Dishonored; and, if ye dare call for justice, + Be answered by the lash! + + Yet this is Rome, + That sat on her seven hills, and from her throne + Of beauty ruled the world! Yet we are Romans! + Why, in that elder day, to be a Roman + Was greater than a king! And, once again,-- + Hear me, ye walls, that echoed to the tread + Of either Brutus!--once again, I swear, + The Eternal City shall be free! + + +Biographical and Historical: Mary Russell Mitford, born in 1787, was an +English writer of miscellaneous works. Among her most noted productions is +the tragedy "Rienzi," which was presented in London in 1828. It is the +story of the Roman patriot, Rienzi, who led a revolution at Rome in 1347. +He overthrew the power of the aristocracy and introduced many reforms in +the government. After establishing himself in power, however, he is said to +have become in turn haughty and arbitrary. + + * * * * * + + +EMMET'S VINDICATION + +MY LORDS: What have I to say why sentence of death should not be pronounced +on me, according to law? I have nothing to say that can alter your +predetermination, nor that it will become me to say with any view to the +mitigation of that sentence which you are here to pronounce, and I must +abide by. But I have that to say which interests me more than life, and +which you have labored to destroy. I have much to say why my reputation +should be rescued from the load of false accusation and calumny which has +been heaped upon it. + +Were I only to suffer death, after being adjudged guilty by _your_ +tribunal, I should bow in silence, and meet the fate that awaits me without +a murmur; but the sentence of law which delivers my body to the executioner +will, through the ministry of that law, labor, in its own vindication, to +consign my character to obloquy; for there must be guilt somewhere--whether +in the sentence of the court, or in the catastrophe, posterity must +determine. The man dies, but his memory lives. That mine may not +perish--that it may live in the respect of my countrymen--I seize upon this +opportunity to vindicate myself from some of the charges alleged against +me. + +When my spirit shall be wafted to a more friendly port; when my shade shall +have joined the bands of those martyred heroes who have shed their blood, +on the scaffold and in the field, in defense of their country and virtue; +this is my hope--I wish that my memory and name may animate those who +survive me, while I look down with complacency on the destruction of that +perfidious government which upholds its domination by blasphemy of the Most +High, which displays its powers over man as over the beasts of the forest, +which sets man upon his brother, and lifts his hand, in the name of God, +against the throat of his fellow who believes or doubts a little more or +less than the government standard--a government which is steeled to +barbarity by the cries of the orphans and the tears of the widows which its +cruelty has made. + +I swear by the throne of Heaven, before which I must shortly appear--by the +blood of the murdered patriots who have gone before me--that my conduct has +been, through all this peril and all my purposes, governed only by the +convictions which I have uttered, and no other view than that of the +emancipation of my country from the superinhuman oppression under which she +has so long and too patiently travailed; and that I confidently and +assuredly hope, wild and chimerical as it may appear, that there is still +union and strength in Ireland to accomplish this noble enterprise. + +My country was my idol. To it I sacrificed every selfish, every endearing +sentiment; and for it I now offer up my life! I acted as an Irishman, +determined on delivering my country from the yoke of a foreign and +unrelenting tyranny, and from the more galling yoke of a domestic faction, +its joint partner and perpetrator in the patricide, whose reward is the +ignominy of existing with an exterior of splendor and a consciousness of +depravity. It was the wish of my heart to extricate my country from this +doubly riveted despotism. I wished to place her independence beyond the +reach of any power on earth. I wished to exalt her to that proud station in +the world which Providence had fitted her to fill. + +Let no man dare, when I am dead, to charge me with dishonor; let no man +attaint my memory by believing that I could have engaged in any cause but +that of my country's liberty and independence, or that I could have become +the pliant minion of power in the oppression or the miseries of my +countrymen. I would not have submitted to a foreign oppressor, for the same +reason that I would resist the domestic tyrant; in the dignity of freedom I +would have fought upon the threshold of my country, and her enemies should +enter only by passing over my lifeless corpse. Am I, who lived but for my +country, and who have subjected myself to the vengeance of the jealous and +wrathful oppressor, and to the bondage of the grave, only to give my +countrymen their rights and my country her independence--am I to be loaded +with calumny, and not to be suffered to resent or repel it? No! God forbid! + +If the spirits of the illustrious dead participate in the concerns and +cares of those who are dear to them in this transitory life, O ever dear +and venerated shade of my departed father, look down with scrutiny on the +conduct of your suffering son, and see if I have even for a moment deviated +from those principles of morality and patriotism which it was your care to +instill into my youthful mind, and for an adherence to which I am now to +offer up my life! + +My Lords, you are all impatient for the sacrifice. The blood which you seek +is not congealed by the artificial terrors which surround your victim; it +circulates warmly and unruffled through the channels which God created for +noble purposes, but which you are bent to destroy, for purposes so grievous +that they cry to Heaven! + +Be ye patient; I have but a few words more to say. I am going to my silent +grave; my lamp of life is nearly extinguished; my race is run; the grave +opens to receive me, and I sink into its bosom. I have but one request to +ask at my departure from this world--it is the charity of its silence. Let +no man write my epitaph; for, as no one who knows my motives dare now +vindicate them, let not prejudice or ignorance asperse them. Let them and +me repose in obscurity and peace, and my tomb remain uninscribed, until +other times and other men can do justice to my character. When my country +shall take her place among the nations of the earth, then, and not till +then, let my epitaph be written! I have done. + + +Biographical and Historical: During the latter part of the eighteenth +century and the beginning of the nineteenth, the spirit of independence was +abroad. The American Revolution was followed by the French Revolution, and +in 1803 Robert Emmet, an Irish patriot, headed a band to gain independence +for Ireland. After an unsuccessful attempt to take the arsenal and castle +at Dublin, he fled to the Wicklow mountains, whence he planned to escape to +the continent. Contrary to the advice of his friends, he determined to have +a last interview with his sweetheart, but the delay proved fatal to him. He +was seized and condemned to death. This extract is from the remarkably +eloquent speech with which he vainly defended himself. + + * * * * * + + +KING PHILIP TO THE WHITE SETTLER + +EDWARD EVERETT + +Think of the country for which the Indians fought. Who can blame them? As +Philip looked down from his seat on Mount Hope, that glorious eminence, +that + + "----throne of royal state, which far + Outshone the wealth of Ormus and of Ind, + Or where the gorgeous East, with richest hand, + Showers on her kings barbaric pearl and gold,"-- + +as he looked down, and beheld the lovely scene which spread beneath, at a +summer sunset, the distant hill-tops glittering as with fire, the slanting +beams streaming across the waters, the broad plains, the island groups, the +majestic forest,--could he be blamed, if his heart burned within him, as he +beheld it all passing, by no tardy process, from beneath his control, into +the hands of the stranger? + +As the river chieftains--the lords of the waterfalls and the +mountains--ranged this lovely valley, can it be wondered at, if they beheld +with bitterness the forest disappearing beneath the settler's ax--the +fishing-place disturbed by his saw-mills? Can we not fancy the feelings +with which some strong-minded savage, the chief of the Pocomtuck Indians, +who should have ascended the summit of the Sugar-loaf Mountain (rising as +it does before us, at this moment, in all its loveliness and grandeur),--in +company with a friendly settler,--contemplating the progress already made +by the white man, and marking the gigantic strides with which he was +advancing into the wilderness, should fold his arms and say, "White man, +there is eternal war between me and thee! I quit not the land of my +fathers, but with my life. In those woods, where I bent my youthful bow, I +will still hunt the deer; over yonder waters I will still glide, +unrestrained, in my bark canoe. By those dashing waterfalls I will still +lay up my winter's store of food; on these fertile meadows I will still +plant my corn. + +"Stranger, the land is mine! I understand not these paper rights. I gave +not my consent, when, as thou sayest, these broad regions were purchased, +for a few baubles, of my fathers. They could sell what was theirs; they +could sell no more. How could my fathers sell that which the Great Spirit +sent me into the world to live upon? They knew not what they did. + +"The stranger came, a timid suppliant,--few and feeble, and asked to lie +down on the red man's bear-skin, and warm himself at the red man's fire, +and have a little piece of land to raise corn for his women and children; +and now he is become strong, and mighty, and bold, and spreads out his +parchments over the whole, and says, 'It is mine.' + +"Stranger! there is not room for us both. The Great Spirit has not made us +to live together. There is poison in the white man's cup; the white man's +dog barks at the red man's heels. If I should leave the land of my fathers, +whither shall I fly? Shall I go to the south, and dwell among the graves of +the Pequots? Shall I wander to the west, the fierce Mohawk,--the +man-eater,--is my foe. Shall I fly to the east, the great water is before +me. No, stranger; here I have lived, and here will I die; and if here thou +abidest, there is eternal war between, me and thee. + +"Thou hast taught me thy arts of destruction; for that alone I thank thee. +And now take heed to thy steps; the red man is thy foe. When thou goest +forth by day, my bullet shall whistle past thee; when thou liest down by +night, my knife is at thy throat. The noonday sun shall not discover thy +enemy, and the darkness of midnight shall not protect thy rest. Thou shalt +plant in terror, and I will reap in blood; thou shalt sow the earth with +corn, and I will strew it with ashes; thou shalt go forth with the sickle, +and I will follow after with the scalping-knife; thou shalt build, and I +will burn,--till the white man or the Indian perish from the land. Go thy +way for this time in safety,--but remember, stranger, _there is eternal +war between me and thee!_" + +Biographical and Historical: Edward Everett was a celebrated American +orator and statesman. His career was varied, but he will be remembered +chiefly through his essays and orations. He was in turn clergyman, +professor of Greek at Harvard, representative in Congress, governor of +Massachusetts, minister to England, president of Harvard, and secretary of +state. He died at the close of the Civil War. + +This extract is from an address delivered at Bloody Brook, South Deerfield, +Mass., September 30, 1835, in commemoration of the death of many colonists +in that spot during King Philip's War, September 18, 1675. King Philip, son +of Massasoit, was an Indian chief who resented the coming of the white man +and, gathering many Indian tribes about him, waged bitter war against the +colonists. He himself was killed at Mount Hope, Rhode Island. + + * * * * * + + +THE CAPTURE OF QUEBEC (From "Montcalm and Wolfe.") + +FRANCIS PARKMAN + +The sun rose, and, from the ramparts of Quebec, the astonished people saw +the Plains of Abraham glittering with arms, and the dark-red lines of the +English forming in array of battle. Breathless messengers had borne the +evil tidings to Montcalm, and far and near his wide-extended camp resounded +with the rolling of alarm drums and the din of startled preparation. + +He, too, had had his struggles and his sorrows. The civil power had +thwarted him; famine, discontent, and disaffection were rife among his +soldiers; and no small portion of the Canadian militia had dispersed from +sheer starvation. In spite of all, he had trusted to hold out till the +winter frosts should drive the invaders from before the town; when, on that +disastrous morning, the news of their successful temerity fell like a +cannon-shot upon his ear. + +Still he assumed a tone of confidence. "They have got to the weak side of +us at last," he is reported to have said, "and we must crush them with our +numbers." With headlong haste, his troops were pouring over the bridge of +the St. Charles, and gathering in heavy masses under the western ramparts +of the town. Could numbers give assurance of success, their triumph would +have been secure; for five French battalions and the armed colonial +peasantry amounted in all to more than seven thousand five hundred men. + +Full in sight before them stretched the long, thin lines of the British +forces, the half-wild Highlanders, the steady soldiery of England, and the +hardy levies of the provinces,--less than five thousand in number, but all +inured to battle, and strong in the full assurance of success. + +Yet, could the chiefs of that gallant army have pierced the secrets of the +future, could they have foreseen that the victory which they burned to +achieve would have robbed England of her proudest boast, that the conquest +of Canada would pave the way for the independence of America, their swords +would have dropped from their hands, and the heroic fire have gone out +within their hearts. + +It was nine o'clock, and the adverse armies stood motionless, each gazing +on the other. The clouds hung low, and, at intervals, warm light showers +descended, besprinkling both alike. The coppice and cornfields in front of +the British troops were filled with French sharp-shooters, who kept up a +distant, spattering fire. Here and there a soldier fell in the ranks, and +the gap was filled in silence. + +At a little before ten, the British could see that Montcalm was preparing +to advance, and, in a few moments, all his troops appeared in rapid motion. +They came on in three divisions, shouting after the manner of their nation, +and firing heavily as soon as they came within range. + +In the British ranks, not a trigger was pulled, not a soldier stirred; and +their ominous composure seemed to damp the spirits of the assailants. It +was not till the French were within forty yards that the fatal word was +given, and the British muskets blazed forth at once in one crashing +explosion. Like a ship at full career, arrested with sudden ruin on a +sunken rock, the ranks of Montcalm staggered, shivered, and broke before +that wasting storm of lead. + +The smoke, rolling along the field, for a moment shut out the view; but +when the white wreaths were scattered on the wind, a wretched spectacle was +disclosed; men and officers tumbled in heaps, battalions resolved into a +mob, order and obedience gone; and when the British muskets were leveled +for a second volley, the masses of the militia were seen to cower and +shrink with uncontrollable panic. + +For a few minutes, the French regulars stood their ground, returning a +sharp and not ineffectual fire. But now, echoing cheer on cheer, redoubling +volley on volley, trampling the dying and the dead, and driving the +fugitives in crowds, the British troops advanced and swept the field before +them. The ardor of the men burst all restraint. They broke into a run, and +with unsparing slaughter chased the flying multitude to the gates of +Quebec. Foremost of all, the light-footed Highlanders dashed along in +furious pursuit, hewing down the Frenchmen with their broadswords, and +slaying many in the very ditch of the fortifications. Never was victory +more quick or more decisive. + +Biographical and Historical: Francis Parkman is one of America's greatest +historians. He took for his theme the great conflict between the English, +the French, and the Indians on the frontiers of the northern new world. He +was not only a historian of genius, but was gifted with a delightful style. +His books are full of the fragrance of woods and streams and the fresh, +free air of the plains and the mountains. + + * * * * * + + +ENGLAND AND HER COLONIES + +EDMUND BURKE + +England's hold of the colonies is in the close affection which grows from +common names, from kindred blood, from similar privileges, and equal +protection. These are ties which, though light as air, are as strong as +links of iron. Let the colonies always keep the idea of their civil rights +associated with your government; they will cling and grapple to you, and no +force under heaven will be of power to tear them from their allegiance. But +let it once be understood that your government may be one thing, and their +privileges another; that these two things may exist without any mutual +relation--the cement is gone; the cohesion is loosened; and everything +hastens to decay and dissolution. As long as you have the wisdom to keep +the sovereign authority of this country as the sanctuary of liberty, the +sacred temple consecrated to our common faith; wherever the chosen race and +sons of England worship freedom, they will turn their faces toward you. The +more they multiply, the more friends you will have; the more ardently they +love liberty, the more perfect will be their obedience. Slavery they can +have anywhere. It is a weed that grows in every soil. They may have it from +Spain; they may have it from Prussia; but, until you become lost to all +feelings of your true interest and your natural dignity, freedom they can +have from none but you. This is the commodity of price of which you have +the monopoly. This is the true Act of Navigation, which binds to you the +commerce of the colonies, and through them secures to you the wealth of the +world. Deny them this participation of freedom, and you break that sole +bond which originally made, and must still preserve, the unity of the +empire. Do not entertain so weak an imagination as that your registers and +your bonds, your affidavits and your sufferances, are what form the great +securities of your commerce. Do not dream that your letters of office, and +your instructions, and your suspending clauses, are the things that hold +together the great contexture of this mysterious whole. These things do not +make your government. Dead instruments, passive tools as they are, it is +the spirit of the English communion that gives all their life and efficacy +to them. It is the spirit of the English constitution, which, infused +through the mighty mass, pervades, feeds, unites, invigorates, vivifies +every part of the empire, even down to the minutest member. Is it not the +same virtue which does everything for us here in England? + +Do you imagine, then, that it is the land tax which raises your revenue? +That it is the annual vote in the committee of supply which gives you your +army? Or that it is the mutiny bill which inspires it with bravery and +discipline? No! surely no! It is the love of the people; it is their +attachment to their government, from the sense of the deep stake they have +in such a glorious institution, which gives you your army and your navy, +and infuses into both that liberal obedience without which your army would +be a base rabble and your navy nothing but rotten timber. + +Biographical and Historical: Edmund Burke was a British statesman of Irish +birth, who lived at the time of the American Revolution. While William Pitt +opposed, in the House of Lords, the policy of the British government, +Edmund Burke delivered, in the House of Commons, his famous speech on the +Conciliation of the Colonies, March 22, 1775. This extract is taken from +the closing paragraphs of this celebrated speech. + + * * * * * + + +THE WAY TO WEALTH + +BENJAMIN FRANKLIN + +COURTEOUS READER: I have heard that nothing gives an author so great +pleasure as to find his works respectfully quoted by others. Judge, then, +how much I must have been gratified by an incident I am going to relate to +you. + +I stopped my horse, lately, where a great number of people were collected +at an auction of merchants' goods. The hour of the sale not being come, +they were conversing on the badness of the times; and one of the company +called to a plain, clean old man, with white locks: "Pray, Father Abraham, +what think you of the times? Will not these heavy taxes quite ruin the +country? How shall we ever be able to pay them? What would you advise us to +do?" + +Father Abraham stood up and replied: "If you would have my advice, I will +give it to you in short; for 'a word to the wise is enough,' as Poor +Richard says." They joined in desiring him to speak his mind, and, +gathering around him, he proceeded as follows: "Friends," said he, "the +taxes are indeed very heavy; and, if those laid on by the Government were +the only ones we had to pay, we might more easily discharge them; but we +have many others, and much more grievous to some of us. + +"We are taxed twice as much by our idleness, three times as much by our +pride, and four times as much by our folly; and of these taxes the +commissioners can not ease or deliver us by allowing an abatement. However, +let us hearken to good advice, and something may be done for us. 'Heaven +helps them that help themselves,' as Poor Richard says. + +"It would be thought a hard government that should tax its people one tenth +part of their time to be employed in its service; but idleness taxes many +of us much more; sloth, by bringing on diseases, absolutely shortens life. +'Sloth, like rust, consumes faster than labor wears; while the used key is +always bright,' as Poor Richard says. How much more than is necessary do we +spend in sleep! forgetting that 'the sleeping fox catches no poultry,' and +that there will be sleeping enough in the grave. + +"'Lost time is never found again; and what we call time enough, always +proves little enough.' Let us, then, be up and doing, and doing to the +purpose; so by diligence shall we do more with less perplexity. 'Drive thy +business, and let not that drive thee'; and 'early to bed, and early to +rise, makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise,' as Poor Richard says. + +"So, what signifies wishing and hoping for better times? We may make these +times better if we bestir ourselves. 'Industry need not wish, and he that +lives upon hopes will die fasting.' 'There are no gains without pains; then +help hands, for I have no lands.' 'He that hath a trade, hath an estate; +and he that hath a calling, hath an office of profit and honor'; but then +the trade must be worked at, and the calling well followed, or neither the +estate nor the office will enable us to pay our taxes. Work while it is +called to-day, for you know not how much you may be hindered to-morrow. +'One to-day is worth two to-morrows,' as Poor Richard says; and further, +'Never leave that till to-morrow which you can do to-day.' + +"If you were a servant, would you not be ashamed that a good master should +catch you idle? Are you, then, your own master? Be ashamed to catch +yourself idle, when there is so much to be done for yourself, your family, +and your country. It is true, there is much to be done, and perhaps you are +weak-handed; but stick to it steadily, and you will see great effects; for +'constant dropping wears away stones,' and 'little strokes fell great +oaks.' + +"But with our industry we must likewise be steady, settled, and careful, +and oversee our own affairs with our own eyes, and not trust too much to +others; for, as Poor Richard says, 'Three removes are as bad as a fire'; +and again, 'Keep thy shop, and thy shop will keep thee'; and again, 'If you +would have your business done, go; if not, send'; and again, 'The eye of +the master will do more work than both his hands'; and again, 'Want of care +does us more damage than want of knowledge.' + +"So much for industry, my friends, and attention to one's own business; but +to these we must add frugality, if we would make our industry more +certainly successful. A man may, if he knows not how to save as he gets, +keep his nose to the grindstone all his life, and die not worth a groat at +last. 'If you would be wealthy, think of saving as well as of getting.' + +"Away with your expensive follies, and you will not then have so much cause +to complain of hard times, heavy taxes, and chargeable families; for 'what +maintains one vice would bring up two children.' Beware of little expenses. +'Many a little makes a mickle'; 'A small leak will sink a great ship.' Here +you are all got together at this sale of fineries and knickknacks. You call +them goods, but, if you do not take care, they will prove evils to some of +you. + +"You expect they will be sold cheap, and perhaps they may be, for less than +cost; but, if you have no occasion for them, they must be dear to you. +Remember what Poor Richard says: 'Buy what thou hast no need of, and ere +long thou shalt sell thy necessaries.' 'Silks, satins, scarlet, and velvets +put out the kitchen fire.' These are not the necessaries of life; they can +scarcely be called the conveniences; and yet, only because they look +pretty, how many want to have them! + +"By these and other extravagances, the greatest are reduced to poverty, and +forced to borrow of those whom they formerly despised, but who, through +industry and frugality, have maintained their standing. 'If you would know +the value of money, go and try to borrow some; for he that goes a-borrowing +goes a-sorrowing'; and, indeed, so does he that lends to such people, when +he goes to get it again. + +"It is as truly folly for the poor to ape the rich, as for the frog to +swell in order to equal the ox. After all, this pride of appearance can not +promote health, nor ease pain; it makes no increase of merit in the person; +it creates envy; it hastens misfortunes. + +"But what madness it must be to run in debt for superfluities! Think what +you do when you run in debt: you give to another power over your liberty. +If you can not pay at the time, you will be ashamed to see your creditor; +you will be in fear when you speak to him; you will make poor, pitiful, +sneaking excuses, and by degrees come to lose your veracity, and sink into +base, downright lying; for 'the second vice is lying, the first is running +in debt,' as Poor Richard says; and again, 'Lying rides upon debt's back.' + +"This doctrine, my friends, is reason and wisdom; but industry, and +frugality, and prudence may all be blasted without the blessing of Heaven. +Therefore ask that blessing humbly, and be not uncharitable to those that +at present seem to want it, but comfort and help them." + +The old gentleman ended his harangue. The people heard it, and approved the +doctrine, and immediately practiced the contrary, just as if it had been a +common sermon; for the auction opened, and they began to buy extravagantly. +I found the good man had thoroughly studied my almanac, and digested all I +had dropped on these topics during the course of twenty-five years. The +frequent mention he made of me must have tired any one else; but my vanity +was wonderfully delighted with it, though I was conscious that not a tenth +part of the wisdom was my own which he ascribed to me, but rather the +gleanings that I had made of the sense of all ages and nations. + +However, I resolved to be the better for the echo of it; and, although I +had at first determined to buy stuff for a new coat, I went away resolved +to wear my old one a little longer. Reader, if thou wilt do the same, thy +profit will be as great as mine.--I am, as ever, thine to serve thee. + + +Biographical and Historical: These are paragraphs selected from Benjamin +Franklin's "Way to Wealth," about which he has the following to say in his +Autobiography: "In 1732, I first published my Almanac, under the name of +'Richard Saunders'; it was continued by me about twenty-five years, and +commonly called 'Poor Richard's Almanac.' I filled all the little spaces +that occurred between the remarkable days in the calendar with proverbial +sentences, chiefly such as inculcated industry and frugality as the means +of procuring wealth, and thereby securing virtue. These proverbs, which +contained the wisdom of many ages and nations, I assembled and formed into +a connected discourse, prefixed to the Almanac of 1757 as the harangue of a +wise old man to the people attending an auction. The bringing all these +scattered counsels thus into a focus enabled them to make greater +impression." + + * * * * * + + +SPEECH ON A RESOLUTION TO PUT VIRGINIA INTO A STATE OF DEFENCE + +BY PATRICK HENRY + +MR. PRESIDENT,--No man thinks more highly than I do of the patriotism, as +well as abilities, of the very worthy gentlemen who have just addressed the +House. But different men often see the same subject in different lights; +and, therefore, I hope it will not be thought disrespectful to those +gentlemen, if, entertaining, as I do, opinions of a character very opposite +to theirs, I shall speak forth my sentiments freely and without reserve. +This is no time for ceremony. The question before the House is one of awful +moment to this country. For my own part, I consider it as nothing less than +a question of freedom or slavery; and in proportion to the magnitude of the +subject ought to be the freedom of the debate. It is only in this way that +we can hope to arrive at truth, and fulfil the great responsibility which +we hold to God and our country. Should I keep back my opinions at such a +time, through fear of giving offence, I should consider myself as guilty of +treason towards my country, and of an act of disloyalty towards the Majesty +of Heaven, which I revere above all earthly kings. + +Mr. President, it is natural to man to indulge in the illusions of hope. We +are apt to shut our eyes against a painful truth, and listen to the song of +that siren till she transforms us into beasts. Is this the part of wise +men, engaged in a great and arduous struggle for liberty? Are we disposed +to be of the number of those who, having eyes, see not, and having ears, +hear not, the things which so nearly concern their temporal salvation? For +my part, whatever anguish of spirit it may cost, I am willing to know the +whole truth; to know the worst, and to provide for it. + +I have but one lamp by which my feet are guided; and that is the lamp of +experience. I know of no way of judging of the future but by the past. And +judging by the past, I wish to know what there has been in the conduct of +the British Ministry for the last ten years to justify those hopes with +which gentlemen have been pleased to solace themselves and the House? Is it +that insidious smile with which our petition has been lately received? +Trust it not, sir; it will prove a snare to your feet. Suffer not +yourselves to be betrayed with a kiss. Ask yourselves how this gracious +reception of our petition comports with those warlike preparations which +cover our waters and darken our land. Are fleets and armies necessary to a +work of love and reconciliation? Have we shown ourselves so unwilling to be +reconciled that force must be called in to win back our love? Let us not +deceive ourselves, sir. These are the implements of war and subjugation-- +the last arguments to which kings resort. I ask, sir, what means this +martial array, if its purpose be not to force us to submission? Can +gentlemen assign any other possible motive for it? Has Great Britain any +enemy, in this quarter of the world, to call for all this accumulation of +navies and armies? No, sir, she has none. They are meant for us; they can +be meant for no other. They are sent over to bind and rivet upon us those +chains which the British Ministry have been so long forging. And what have +we to oppose to them? Shall we try argument? Sir, we have been trying that +for the last ten years. Have we anything new to offer upon the subject? +Nothing. We have held the subject up in every light of which it is capable; +but it has been all in vain. Shall we resort to entreaty and humble +supplication? What terms shall we find, which have not been already +exhausted? Let us not, I beseech you, sir, deceive ourselves longer. Sir, +we have done everything that could be done to avert the storm which is now +coming on. We have petitioned; we have remonstrated; we have supplicated; +we have prostrated ourselves before the throne, and have implored its +interposition to arrest the tyrannical hands of the Ministry and +Parliament. Our petitions have been slighted; our remonstrances have +produced additional violence and insult; our supplications have been +disregarded; and we have been spurned, with contempt, from the foot of the +throne! In vain, after these things, may we indulge the fond hope of peace +and reconciliation. There is no longer any room for hope. If we wish to be +free--if we mean to preserve inviolate those inestimable privileges for +which we have been so long contending--if we mean not basely to abandon the +noble struggle in which we have been so long engaged, and which we have +pledged ourselves never to abandon, until the glorious abject of our +contest shall be obtained--we must fight! I repeat it, sir, we must fight! +An appeal to arms and to the God of Hosts is all that is left us! + +They tell us, sir, that we are weak; unable to cope with so formidable an +adversary. But when shall we be stronger? Will it be the next week, or the +next year? Will it be when we are totally disarmed, and when a British +guard shall be stationed in every house? Shall we gather strength by +irresolution and inaction? Shall we acquire the means of effectual +resistance by lying supinely on our backs and hugging the delusive phantom +of hope until our enemies shall have bound us hand and foot? + +Sir, we are not weak, if we make a proper use of those means which the God +of nature hath placed in our power. Three millions of people, armed in the +holy cause of liberty, and in such a country as that which we possess, are +invincible by any force which our enemy can send against us. Besides, sir, +we shall not fight our battles alone. There is a just God who presides over +the destinies of nations, and who will raise up friends to fight our +battles for us. The battle, sir, is not to the strong alone; it is to the +vigilant, the active, the brave. Besides, sir, we have no election. If we +were base enough to desire it, it is now too late to retire from the +contest. There is no retreat but in submission and slavery! Our chains are +forged! Their clanking may be heard on the plains of Boston! The war is +inevitable--and let it come! I repeat it, sir, let it come! + +It is in vain, sir, to extenuate the matter. Gentlemen may cry, Peace, +peace!--but there is no peace. The war is actually begun! The next gale +that sweeps from the north will bring to our ears the clash of resounding +arms! Our brethren are already in the field! Why stand we here idle? What +is it that gentlemen wish? What would they have? Is life so dear, or peace +so sweet, as to be purchased at the price of chains and slavery? Forbid it, +Almighty God! I know not what course others may take; but as for me, give +me liberty or give me death! + +Biographical and Historical: Patrick Henry was an American patriot and +orator whose eloquent speech was a powerful force in moulding public +opinion at the time of the Revolution. This famous speech was made in the +Virginia Convention, March 28, 1775, and is an appeal to place the colonies +in a state of defence. + + * * * * * + + +THE MAN WITHOUT A COUNTRY + +EDWARD EVERETT HALE + +I first came to understand anything about "the man without a country" one +day when we over-hauled a dirty little schooner which had slaves on board. +An officer was sent to take charge of her, and, after a few minutes, he +sent back his boat to ask that someone might be sent him who could talk +Portuguese. But none of the officers did; and just as the captain was +sending forward to ask if any of the people could, Nolan stepped out and +said he should be glad to interpret, if the captain wished, as he +understood the language. The captain thanked him, fitted out another boat +with him, and in this boat it was my luck to go. + +There were not a great many of the negroes; most of them were out of the +hold and swarming all round the dirty deck, with a central throng +surrounding Vaughan. "Tell them they are free, Nolan," said Vaughan; "and +tell them that I will take them all to Cape Palmas." + +Cape Palmas was practically as far from the homes of most of them as New +Orleans or Rio Janeiro was; that is, they would be eternally separated from +home there. And their interpreters, as we could understand, instantly said, +"Ah, non Palmas." The drops stood on poor Nolan's white forehead, as he +hushed the men down, and said: + +"He says, 'Not Palmas.' He says, 'Take us home, take us to our own country, +take us to our own house, take us to our own pickaninnies and our own +women.' He says he has an old father and mother who will die if they do not +see him. And this one says," choked out Nolan, "that he has not heard a +word from, his home in six months." + +Even the negroes stopped howling, as they saw Nolan's agony, and Vaughan's +almost equal agony of sympathy. As quick as he could get words, Vaughan +said: + +"Tell them, yes, yes, yes; tell them they shall go to the Mountains of the +Moon, if they will." + +And after some fashion Nolan said so. And then they all fell to kissing him +again. + +But he could not stand it long; and getting Vaughan to say he might go +back, he beckoned me down into our boat. As we lay back in the stern-sheets +and the men gave way, he said to me: "Youngster, let that show you what it +is to be without a family, without a home, and without a country. And if +you are ever tempted to say a word or to do a thing that shall put a bar +between you and your family, your home, and your country, pray God in his +mercy to take you that instant home to his own heaven. Think of your home, +boy; write and read, and talk about it. Let it be nearer and nearer to your +thought, the farther you have to travel from it; and rush back to it when +you are free, as that poor black slave is doing now. And for your country, +boy," and the words rattled in his throat, "and for that flag," and he +pointed to the ship, "never dream a dream but of serving her as she bids +you, though the service carry you through a thousand terrors. No matter +what happens to you, no matter who flatters you or who abuses you, never +look at another flag. Remember, that behind all these men you have to do +with,--behind officers, and government, and people even--there is the +Country Herself, your Country, and that you belong to Her as you belong to +your own mother." + + +Biographical and Historical: This is an extract from "The Man Without a +Country," a book written by Edward Everett Hale, a clergyman and author +(1822-1909). He was a grand-nephew of Nathan Hale, of Revolutionary fame. + +"The Man without a Country" is the story of Philip Nolan, a young officer +of the United States army. On account of his intimacy with Aaron Burr, he +was court-martialed and, having expressed the wish never to hear the name +of his country again, was banished and sentenced to live upon a government +boat, where no one was allowed to mention his country. + + * * * * * + + +LOVE OF COUNTRY (From "The Lay of the Last Minstrel," Canto VI.) + +SIR WALTER SCOTT + + + Breathes there the man with soul so dead, + Who never to himself hath said:-- + "This is my own, my native land!" + Whose heart hath ne'er within him burned, + As home his footsteps he hath turned + From wandering on a foreign strand? + If such there breathe, go, mark him well; + For him no minstrel raptures swell; + High though his titles, proud his name, + Boundless his wealth as wish can claim; + Despite those titles, power, and pelf, + The wretch concentered all in self, + Living, shall forfeit fair renown, + And, doubly dying, shall go down + To the vile dust, from whence he sprung, + Unwept, unhonored, and unsung. + + * * * * * + + +NAPOLEON BONAPARTE + +CHARLES PHILLIPS + +He is fallen! We may now pause before that splendid prodigy, which towered +among us like some ancient ruin, whose frown terrified the glance its +magnificence attracted. Grand, gloomy, and peculiar, he sat upon the +throne, a sceptered hermit, wrapt in the solitude of his own originality. A +mind, bold, independent, and decisive,--a will despotic in its dictates--an +energy that distanced expedition, and a conscience pliable to every touch +of interest, marked the outline of this extraordinary character--the most +extraordinary, perhaps, that, in the annals of this world, ever rose, or +reigned, or fell. + +Flung into life in the midst of a revolution that quickened every energy of +a people who acknowledge no superior, he commenced his course, a stranger +by birth, and a scholar by charity! With no friend but his sword, and no +fortune but his talents, he rushed into the lists where rank and wealth and +genius had arrayed themselves, and competition fled from him as from the +glance of destiny. He knew no motive but interest--he acknowledged no +criterion but success--he worshiped no God but ambition, and, with an +Eastern devotion, he knelt at the shrine of his idolatry. + +Subsidiary to this, there was no creed that he did not profess, there was +no opinion that he did not promulgate; in the hope of a dynasty, he upheld +the Crescent; for the sake of a divorce, he bowed before the Cross; the +orphan of St. Louis, he became the adopted child of the Republic; and, with +a parricidal ingratitude, on the ruins both of the throne and tribune, he +reared the throne of his despotism. + +A professed Catholic, he imprisoned the Pope; a pretended patriot, he +impoverished the country; and, in the name of Brutus, he grasped--without +remorse and wore without shame the diadem of the Caesars. Through this +pantomime of policy, fortune played the clown to his caprices. At his +touch, crowns crumbled, beggars reigned, systems vanished, the wildest +theories took the color of his whim, and all that was venerable, and all +that was novel, changed places with the rapidity of a drama. + +Even apparent defeat assumed the appearance of victory,--his flight from +Egypt confirmed his destiny,--ruin itself only elevated him to empire. But, +if his fortune was great, his genius was transcendent; decision flashed +upon his counsels; and it was the same to decide and to perform. To +inferior intellects his combinations appeared perfectly impossible, his +plans perfectly impracticable; but, in his hands, simplicity marked their +development, and success vindicated their adoption. His person partook the +character of his mind,--if the one never yielded in the cabinet, the other +never bent in the field. Nature had no obstacle that he did not +surmount--space no opposition that he did not spurn: and whether amid +Alpine rocks, Arabian sands, or Polar snows, he seemed proof against peril, +and empowered with ubiquity. + +The whole continent trembled at beholding the audacity of his designs, and +the miracle of their execution. Skepticism bowed to the prodigies of his +performance; romance assumed the air of history; nor was there aught too +incredible for belief, or too fanciful for expectation, when the world saw +a subaltern of Corsica waving his imperial flag over her most ancient +capitals. All the visions of antiquity became commonplace in his +contemplation; kings were his people--nations were his outposts; and he +disposed of courts, and crowns, and camps, and churches, and cabinets, as +if they were titular dignitaries of the chess-board. Amid all these +changes, he stood immutable as adamant. + +It mattered little whether in the field or in the drawing-room, with the +mob or the levee--wearing the Jacobin bonnet or the iron crown--banishing a +Braganza, or espousing a Hapsburg--dictating peace on a raft to the Czar of +Russia, or contemplating defeat at the gallows of Leipsic--he was still the +same military despot. + +In this wonderful combination, his affectations of literature must not be +omitted. The jailer of the press, he affected the patronage of letters; the +proscriber of books, he encouraged philosophy; the persecutor of authors +and the murderer of printers, he yet pretended to the protection of +learning. Such a medley of contradictions, and at the same time, such an +individual consistency, were never united in the same character. A +royalist--a republican and an emperor--a Mohammedan--a Catholic and a +patron of the synagogue--a subaltern and a sovereign--a traitor and a +tyrant--a Christian and an infidel--he was, through all his vicissitudes, +the same stern, impatient, inflexible original--the same mysterious, +incomprehensible self--a man without a model and without a shadow. + + * * * * * + + +THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS + +BY CHARLES SUMNER + +The flowers of gentleness, of kindliness, of fidelity, of humanity, which +flourish in unregarded luxuriance in the rich meadows of peace, receive +unwonted admiration when we discern them in war, like violets shedding +their perfume on the perilous edges of the precipice, beyond the smiling +borders of civilization. God be praised for all the examples of magnanimous +virtue which he has vouchsafed to mankind! God be praised that the Roman +emperor, about to start on a distant expedition of war, encompassed by +squadrons of cavalry and by golden eagles which moved in the winds, stooped +from his saddle to listen to the prayer of the humble widow, demanding +justice for the death of her son! God be praised that Sidney, on the field +of battle, gave with dying hand the cup of cold water to the dying soldier! +That single act of self-forgetful sacrifice has consecrated the fenny field +of Zutphen far, oh, far beyond its battle; it has consecrated thy name, +gallant Sidney, beyond any feat of thy sword, beyond any triumph of thy +pen. But there are hands out-stretched elsewhere than on fields of blood +for so little as a cup of cold water; the world is full of opportunities +for deeds of kindness. Let me not be told, then, of the virtues of war. Let +not the acts of generosity and sacrifice which have triumphed on its fields +be invoked in its defense. In the words of Oriental imagery, the poisonous +tree, though watered by nectar, can produce only the fruit of death. + +As we cast our eyes over the history of nations, we discern with horror the +succession of murderous slaughters by which their progress has been marked. +As the hunter traces the wild beast, when pursued to his lair, by the drops +of blood on the earth, so we follow man, faint, weary, staggering with +wounds, through the black forest of the past, which he has reddened with +his gore. Oh, let it not be in the future ages as in those which we now +contemplate. Let the grandeur of man be discerned in the blessings which he +has secured; in the good he has accomplished; in the triumphs of +benevolence and justice; in the establishment of perpetual peace. + +And peace has its own peculiar victories, in comparison with which Marathon +and Bannockburn and Bunker Hill, fields held sacred in the history of human +freedom, shall lose their lustre. Our own Washington rises to a truly +heavenly stature--not when we follow him over the ice of the Delaware to +the capture of Trenton--not when we behold him victorious over Cornwallis +at Yorktown--but when we regard him, in noble deference to justice, +refusing the kingly crown which a faithless soldiery proffered, and at a +later day upholding the peaceful neutrality of the country, while he +received unmoved the clamor of the people wickedly crying for war.... + +To this great work let me summon you. That future which filled the lofty +visions of the sages and bards of Greece and Rome, which was foretold by +the prophets and heralded by the evangelists, when man in happy isles or in +a new paradise shall confess the loveliness of peace, may be secured by +your care, if not for yourselves, at least for your children. Believe that +you can do it, and you can do it. The true golden age is before you, not +behind you. + +Let it not be said that the age does not demand this work. The mighty +conquerors of the past from their fiery sepulchres demand it; the blood of +millions unjustly shed in war crying from the ground demands it; the voices +of all good men demand it; the conscience even of the soldier whispers +"peace." There are considerations springing from our situation and +condition which fervently invite us to take the lead in this great work. To +this should bend the patriotic ardor of the land; the ambition of the +statesman; the efforts of the scholar; the pervasive influence of the +press; the mild persuasion of the sanctuary; the early teachings of the +school. Here, in ampler ether and diviner air, are untried fields for +exalted triumphs, more truly worthy the American name than any snatched +from rivers of blood. War is known as the last reason of kings. Let it be +no reason of our republic. Let us renounce and throw off forever the yoke +of a tyranny more oppressive than any in the annals of the world. As those +standing on the mountain tops first discern the coming beams of morning, +let us, from the vantage-ground of liberal institutions, first recognize +the ascending sun of a new era. Lift high, the gates and let the King of +glory in--the King of true glory, of peace. I catch the last words of music +from the lips of innocence and beauty-- + +"And let the whole earth be filled with his glory!" + +It is a beautiful picture in Grecian story that there was at least one +spot, the small island of Delos, dedicated to the gods, and kept at all +times sacred from war, where the citizens of hostile countries met and +united in a common worship. So let us dedicate our broad country. The +temple of honor shall be surrounded by the temple of concord, so that the +former can be entered only through the portals of the latter; the horn of +abundance shall overflow at its gates; the angel of religion shall be the +guide over its steps of flashing adamant; while within, Justice, returned +to the earth from her long exile in the skies, shall rear her serene and +majestic front. And the future chiefs of the republic, destined to uphold +the glories of a new era, unspotted by human blood, shall be "the first in +peace, and the first in the hearts of their countrymen." + +But while we seek these blissful glories for ourselves, let us strive to +extend them to other lands. Let the bugles sound the truce of God to the +whole world forever. Let the selfish boast of the Spartan women become the +grand chorus of mankind, that they have never seen the smoke of an enemy's +camp. Let the iron belt of martial music which now encompasses the earth be +exchanged for the golden cestus of peace, clothing all with celestial +beauty. And now, on this Sabbath of our country, let us lay a new stone in +the grand temple of universal peace, whose dome shall be as lofty as the +firmament of heaven, as broad and comprehensive as the earth itself. + + +Biographical: Charles Samuer was an American statesman noted for his +oratory. His speeches were marked by soundness of reason, and the fifteen +published volumes of them make an imposing addition to our literature. This +selection is taken from his address "The True Grandeur of Nations," which +was delivered in Tremont Temple, Boston, July 4, 1845. + + * * * * * + + +THE EVILS OF WAR + +HENRY CLAY + + + "The drying up a single tear has more + Of honest fame, than shedding seas of gore."--_Byron_. + + +War, pestilence, and famine, by the common consent of mankind, are the +three greatest calamities which can befall our species; and war, as the +most direful, justly, stands foremost and in front. Pestilence and famine, +no doubt for wise although inscrutable purposes, are inflictions of +Providence, to which it is our duty, therefore, to bow with obedience, +humble submission, and resignation. Their duration is not long, and their +ravages are limited. They bring, indeed, great affliction, while they last, +but society soon recovers from their effects. + +War is the voluntary work of our own hands, and whatever reproaches it may +deserve, should be directed to ourselves. When it breaks out, its duration +is indefinite and unknown,--its vicissitudes are hidden from our view. In +the sacrifice of human life, and in the waste of human treasure,--in its +losses and in its burdens,--it affects both belligerent nations, and its +sad effects of mangled bodies, of death, and of desolation, endure long +after its thunders are hushed in peace. + +War unhinges society, disturbs its peaceful and regular industry, and +scatters poisonous seeds of disease and immorality, which continue to +germinate and diffuse their baneful influence long after it has ceased. +Dazzling by its glitter, pomp, and pageantry, it begets a spirit of wild +adventure and romantic enterprise, and often disqualifies those who embark +in it, after their return from the bloody fields of battle, for engaging in +the industrious and peaceful vocations of life. + +History tells the mournful tale of conquering nations and conquerors. The +three most celebrated conquerors, in the civilized world, were Alexander, +Caesar, and Napoleon. The first, after ruining a large portion of Asia, and +sighing and lamenting that there were no more worlds to subdue, met a +premature and ignoble death. His lieutenants quarreled and warred with each +other as to the spoils of his victories, and finally lost them all. + +Caesar, after conquering Gaul, returned with his triumphant legions to Rome, +passed the Rubicon, won the battle of Pharsalia, trampled upon the +liberties of his country, and expired by the patriot hand of Brutus. But +Rome ceased to be free. War and conquest had enervated and corrupted the +masses. The spirit of true liberty was extinguished, and a long line of +emperors succeeded, some of whom were the most execrable monsters that ever +existed in human form. + +And Napoleon, that most extraordinary man, perhaps, in all history, after +subjugating all continental Europe, occupying almost all its +capitals,--seriously threatening proud Albion itself,--and decking the +brows of various members of his family with crowns torn from the heads of +other monarchs, lived to behold his own dear France itself in possession of +his enemies, was made himself a wretched captive, and far removed from +country, family, and friends, breathed his last on the distant and +inhospitable rock of St. Helena. + +The Alps and the Rhine had been claimed, as the natural boundaries of +France, but even these could not be secured in the treaties, to which she +was reduced to submit. Do you believe that the people of Macedon or Greece, +of Rome, or of France, were benefited, individually or collectively, by the +triumphs of their captains? Their sad lot was immense sacrifice of life, +heavy and intolerable burdens, and the ultimate loss of liberty itself. + + +Biographical: Henry Clay was one of the most prominent statesmen of his +time, serving as speaker of the House for ten years, as secretary of state +for four years, and as senator from Kentucky for twenty years. He was the +author of the compromise measures in 1850, and was known as the "Great +Pacificator," and the "Great Compromiser." + + * * * * * + + +PEACE, THE POLICY OF A NATION + +JOHN C. CALHOUN + +I am opposed to war, as a friend to human improvement, to human +civilization, to human progress and advancement. Never, in the history of +the world, has there occurred a period so remarkable. The chemical and +mechanical powers have been investigated and applied to advance the +comforts of human life, in a degree far beyond all that was ever known +before. Civilization has been spreading its influence far and wide, and the +general progress of human society has outstripped all that had been +previously witnessed. + +The invention of man has seized upon, and subjugated two great agencies of +the natural world, which never before were made the servants of man. I +refer to steam and to electricity, under which I include magnetism in all +its phenomena. We have been distinguished by Providence for a great and +noble purpose, and I trust we shall fulfill our high destiny. + +Again, I am opposed to war, because I hold that it is now to be determined +whether two such nations as these shall exist for the future, as friends or +enemies. A declaration of war by one of them against the other, must be +pregnant with miseries, not only to themselves, but to the world. + +Another reason is, that mighty means are now put into the hands of both, to +cement and secure a perpetual peace, by breaking down the barriers of +commerce, and uniting them more closely in an intercourse mutually +beneficial. If this shall be accomplished, other nations will, one after +another, follow the fair example, and a state of general prosperity, +heretofore unknown, will gradually unite and bless the nations of the +world. + +And far more than all. An intercourse like this points to that inspiring +day which philosophers have hoped for, which poets have seen in their +bright dreams of fancy, and which prophecy has seen in holy vision,--when +men shall learn war no more. Who can contemplate a state of the world like +this, and not feel his heart exult at the prospect? And who can doubt that, +in the hand of an Omnipotent Providence, a free and unrestricted commerce +shall prove one of the greatest agents in bringing it about? + +Finally, I am against war, because peace--peace is preeminently our policy. +Our great mission, as a people, is to occupy this vast domain,--there to +level forests, and let in upon their solitude the light of day; to clear +the swamps and morasses, and redeem them to the plow and the sickle; to +spread over hill and dale the echoes of human labor, and human happiness, +and contentment; to fill the land with cities and towns; to unite its +opposite extremities by turnpikes and railroads; to scoop out canals for +the transmission of its products, and open rivers for its internal trade. +War can only impede the fulfillment of this high mission of Heaven; it +absorbs the wealth and diverts the energy which might be so much better +devoted to the improvement of our country. All we want is +peace,--established peace; and then time, under the guidance of a wise and +cautious policy, will soon effect for us all the rest. Where we find that +natural causes will of themselves work out good, our wisdom is to let them +work; and all our task is to remove impediments. In the present case, one +of the greatest of these impediments is found in our impatience. + +Yes; time--ever-laboring time--will effect everything for us. Our +population is now increasing at the annual average of six hundred thousand. +Let the next twenty-five years elapse, and our increase will have reached a +million a year, and, at the end of that period, we shall count a population +of forty-five millions. Before that day it will have spread from ocean to +ocean. The coast of the Pacific will then be as densely populated and as +thickly settled with villages and towns as is now the coast of the +Atlantic. If we can preserve peace, who shall set bounds to our prosperity, +or to our success? With one foot planted on the Atlantic and the other on +the Pacific, we shall occupy a position between the two old continents of +the world,--a position eminently calculated to secure to us the commerce +and the influence of both. If we abide by the counsels of common sense,--if +we succeed in preserving our constitutional liberty, we shall then exhibit +a spectacle such, as the world never saw. + +I know that this one great mission is encompassed with difficulties; but +such is the inherent energy of our political system, and such its expansive +capability, that it may be made to govern the widest space. If by war we +become great, we can not be free; if we will be both great and free, our +policy is peace. + +Biographical: John C. Calhoun was a distinguished American statesman. He is +noted for his advocacy of the annexation of Texas and his maintenance of +the cause of peace, when war with Great Britain was threatened by the +claims of the United States to Oregon. This selection is from one of his +speeches in the Senate on that subject. + + * * * * * + + +THE FIRST SETTLEMENT OF NEW ENGLAND + +DANIEL WEBSTER + + +The hours of this day are rapidly flying, and this occasion will soon be +passed. Neither we nor our children can expect to behold its return. They +are in the distant regions of futurity, they exist only in the all-creating +power of God, who shall stand here, a hundred years hence, to trace, +through us, their descent from the Pilgrims, and to survey, as we have now +surveyed, the progress of the country during the lapse of a century. We +would anticipate their concurrence with us in our sentiments of deep regard +for our common ancestors. We would anticipate and partake of the pleasure +with which they will then recount the steps of New England's advancement. +On the morning of that day, although it will not disturb us in our repose, +the voice of acclamation and gratitude, commencing on the rock of Plymouth, +shall be transmitted through millions of the sons of the Pilgrims, till it +lose itself in the murmurs of the Pacific seas. + +We would leave for the consideration of those who shall occupy our places, +some proof that we hold the blessings transmitted from our fathers in just +estimation; some proof of our attachment to the cause of good government, +and ardent desire to promote everything which may enlarge the +understandings and improve the hearts of men. And when, from the long +distance of a hundred years, they shall look back upon us, they shall know, +at least, that we possessed affections which, running backward and warming +with gratitude for what our ancestors have done for our happiness, run +forward also to our posterity, and meet them with cordial salutation, ere +yet they have arrived on the shore of being. + +Advance, then, ye future generations! We would hail you, as you rise in +your long succession, to fill the places which we now fill, and to taste +the blessings of existence, where we are passing, and soon shall have +passed, our human duration. We bid you welcome to the healthful skies and +the verdant fields of New England. We greet your accession to the great +inheritance which we have enjoyed. We welcome you to the blessings of good +government and religious liberty. We welcome you to the treasures of +science and the delights of learning. We welcome you to the transcendent +sweets of domestic life, to the happiness of kindred, and parents, and +children. We welcome you to the immeasurable blessings of rational +existence, the immortal hope of Christianity, and the light of everlasting +truth! + +Biographical and Historical: Daniel Webster stands out as America's +foremost orator. His eloquence, enhanced by the force of his personality, +was equally great whether answering an opponent in the Senate, pleading a +case as a lawyer, or in the more dispassionate orations of anniversary +occasions. He was the champion of the national idea and of complete union, +and therefore bitterly opposed Hayne and Calhoun. He supported Clay in the +compromise measures of 1850. His supremacy in American statesmanship, as +senator, and as secretary of state, makes him "the notablest of our +notabilities." These are the closing paragraphs from his oration delivered +at Plymouth, December 22, 1820, on the two hundredth anniversary of the +landing of the Pilgrims. + + * * * * * + + +SUPPOSED SPEECH OF JOHN ADAMS + +DANIEL WEBSTER + + +Sink or swim, live or die, survive or perish, I give my hand and my heart +to this vote. It is true, indeed, that in the beginning we aimed not at +independence. But there is a divinity which shapes our ends. The injustice +of England has driven us to arms; and, blinded to her own interest, she has +obstinately persisted, till independence is now within our grasp. We have +but to reach forth to it, and it is ours. Why, then, should we defer the +declaration? If we postpone independence, do we mean to carry on or to give +up the war? Do we mean to submit, and consent that we shall be ground to +powder, and our country and its rights trodden down in the dust? I know we +do not mean to submit. We never shall submit! + +The war, then, must go on; we must fight it through. And if the war must go +on, why put off the declaration of independence? That measure will +strengthen us. It will give us character abroad. Nations will then treat +with us, which they never can do while we acknowledge ourselves subjects in +arms against our sovereign. + +If we fail, it can be no worse for us. But we shall not fail. The cause +will raise up armies; the cause will create navies. The people--the people, +if we are true to them, will carry us, and will carry themselves, +gloriously through this struggle. I care not how fickle other people have +been found. I know the people of these colonies; and I know that resistance +to British aggression is deep and settled in their hearts, and cannot be +eradicated. Sir, the declaration of independence will inspire the people +with increased courage. Instead of a long and bloody war for the +restoration of privileges, for redress of grievances, set before them the +glorious object of entire independence, and it will breathe into them anew +the spirit of life. + +Read this declaration at the head of the army; every sword will be drawn, +and the solemn vow uttered to maintain it or perish on the bed of honor. +Publish it from the pulpit; religion will approve it, and the love of +religious liberty will cling around it, resolved to stand with it, or fall +with it. Send it to the public halls; proclaim it there; let them see it, +who saw their brothers and their sons fall on the field of Bunker Hill, and +in the streets of Lexington and Concord, and the very walls will cry out in +its support. + +O Sir, I know the uncertainty of human affairs, but I see, I see clearly +through this day's business. You and I, indeed, may rue it. We may not live +to see the time this declaration shall be made good. We may die; die +colonists; die slaves; die, it may be ignominiously, and on the scaffold. +Be it so: be it so. If it be the pleasure of Heaven that my country shall +require the poor offering of my life, the victim shall be ready at the +appointed hour of sacrifice, come when that hour may. But while I do live, +let me have a country, or at least the hope of a country, and that a free +country. + +But whatever may be our fate, be assured--be assured that this declaration +will stand. It may cost treasure, and it may cost blood; but it will stand, +and it will richly compensate for both. Through the thick gloom of the +present I see the brightness of the future, as the sun in heaven. We shall +make this a glorious, an immortal day. When we are in our graves, our +children will honor it. They will celebrate it with thanksgiving, with +festivity, with bonfires, and illuminations. On its annual return they will +shed tears, copious, gushing tears; not of subjection and slavery, not of +agony and distress, but of exultation, of gratitude, and of joy. + +Sir, before God, I believe the hour is come. My judgment approves the +measure, and my whole heart is in it. All that I have, and all that I am, +and all that I hope in this life, I am now ready here to stake upon it; and +I leave off as I began, that, live or die, survive or perish, I am for the +declaration. It is my living sentiment, and, by the blessing of God, it +shall be my dying sentiment; independence now, and independence forever. + +Historical: Boston was deeply moved, on July 4, 1826, by the news of the +death of John Adams, just fifty years after the signing of the Declaration +of Independence. He was not only conscious of the significance of the day, +but had spoken of his colleague, Thomas Jefferson, and the fact that +Jefferson would survive him. A few days later, news came from Virginia that +Jefferson had died on the same day, a few hours earlier than Adams. The +whole country was deeply affected by this remarkable coincidence. On the +second of August a public memorial meeting was held in Faneuil Hall, +Boston, at which Daniel Webster delivered an oration on "Adams and +Jefferson." In this speech, merely a part of the oration, Webster +represents what Adams might have said at the time of the Declaration of +Independence. + + * * * * * + + +SOUTH CAROLINA AND THE UNION + +ROBERT HAYNE + + +I shall make no profession of zeal for the interests and honor of South +Carolina. If there be one state in the Union that may challenge comparison +with any other, for a uniform, zealous, ardent, and uncalculating devotion +to the Union, that state is South Carolina. From the very commencement of +the Revolution up to this hour, there is no sacrifice, however great, she +has not cheerfully made, no service she has ever hesitated to perform. She +has adhered to you in your prosperity; but in your adversity she has clung +to you with more than filial affection. No matter what was the condition of +her domestic affairs, though deprived of her resources, divided by parties, +or surrounded with difficulties, the call of the country has been to her as +the voice of God. Domestic discord ceased at the sound; every man became at +once reconciled to his brethren, and the sons of Carolina were all seen +crowding together to the temple, bringing gifts to the altar of their +common country. + +What was the conduct of the South during the Revolution? I honor New +England for her conduct in that glorious struggle. But great as is the +praise which belongs to her, I think at least equal honor is due the South. +They espoused the quarrel of their brethren with a generous zeal which did +not suffer them to stop to calculate their interest in the dispute. +Favorites of the mother country, possessed of neither ships nor seamen to +create a commercial rivalship, they might have found in their situation a +guaranty that their trade would be forever fostered and protected by Great +Britain. But, trampling on all considerations either of interest or of +safety, they rushed into the conflict, and, fighting for principle, periled +all in the sacred cause of freedom. Never were there exhibited in the +history of the world higher examples of noble daring, dreadful suffering, +and heroic endurance than by the Whigs of Carolina during the Revolution. +The whole state, from the mountains to the sea, was overrun by an +overwhelming force of the enemy. The fruits of industry perished on the +spot where they were produced, or were consumed by the foe. + +The "plains of Carolina" drank up the most precious blood of her citizens. +Black and smoking ruins marked the places which had been the habitations of +her children. Driven from their homes into the gloomy and almost +impenetrable swamps, even there the spirit of liberty survived, and South +Carolina, sustained by the example of her Sumters and her Marions, proved, +by her conduct, that, though her soil might be overrun, the spirit of her +people was invincible. + +Historical: In January of 1830, Senator Foote of Connecticut introduced +into the Senate a resolution regarding the sale of public lands. The +subject of state rights being uppermost in their minds, the debaters +wandered off into a discussion of the Constitution. Senator Robert Y. Hayne +of South Carolina, in a brilliant speech set forth the doctrine of +nullification, and Daniel Webster answered him in one of the greatest +speeches ever delivered. This extract and the following are taken from this +memorable debate, when for the first time the two opposing theories of the +Constitution, the "state" and he "national," were clearly set forth. + + * * * * * + + +REPLY TO HAYNE + +DANIEL WEBSTER + + +I shall not acknowledge that the honorable member goes before me in regard +for whatever of distinguished talent or distinguished character South +Carolina has produced. I claim part of the honor, I partake in the pride, +of her great name. I claim them for countrymen, one and all. The Laurenses, +the Rutledges, the Pinckneys, the Sumters, the Marions--Americans +all--whose fame is no more to be hemmed in by state lines than their +talents and patriotism were capable of being circumscribed within the same +narrow limits. In their day and generation, they served and honored the +country, and the whole country; and their renown is of the treasures of the +whole country. + +Mr. President, I shall enter upon no encomium upon Massachusetts; she needs +none. There she is. Behold her, and judge for yourselves. There is her +history; the world knows it by heart. The past, at least, is secure. There +is Boston, and Concord, and Lexington, and Bunker Hill; and there they will +remain forever. The bones of her sons, fallen in the great struggle for +independence, now lie mingled with the soil of every state from New England +to Georgia; and there they will lie forever. And, sir, where American +liberty raised its first voice, and where its youth was nurtured and +sustained, there it still lives, in the strength of its manhood, and full +of its original spirit. If discord and disunion shall wound it; if party +strife and blind ambition shall hawk and tear it; if folly and madness, if +uneasiness under salutary and necessary restraint, shall succeed in +separating it from that Union by which alone its existence is made +sure,--it will stand, in the end, by the side of that cradle in which its +infancy was rocked; it will stretch forth its arm, with whatever vigor it +may still retain, over the friends who gather round it; and it will fall at +last, if fall it must, amidst the proudest monuments of its own glory and +on the very spot of its origin. + +I cannot persuade myself to relinquish this subject without expressing my +deep conviction, that, since it respects nothing less than THE UNION OF THE +STATES, it is of most vital and essential importance to the public +happiness. I profess, sir, in my career hitherto, to have kept steadily in +view the prosperity and honor of the whole country and the preservation of +our federal Union. It is to that Union we owe our safety at home and our +consideration and dignity abroad. It is to that Union that we are chiefly +indebted for whatever makes us most proud of our country. + +That Union we reached only by the discipline of our virtues in the severe +school of adversity. It had its origin in the necessities of disordered +finance, prostrate commerce, and ruined credit, Under its benign +influences, these great interests immediately awoke, as from the dead, and +sprang forth with newness of life. + +Every year of its duration has teemed with fresh proofs of its utility and +its blessings; and, although our territory has stretched out wider and +wider, and our population spread farther and farther, they have not outrun +its protection or its benefits. It has been to us a copious fountain of +national, social, and personal happiness. + +I have not allowed myself to look beyond the Union, to see what might lie +hidden in the dark recess behind. I have not coolly weighed the chances of +preserving liberty, when the bonds that unite us together shall be broken +asunder. I have not accustomed myself to hang over the precipice of +disunion, to see whether, with my short sight, I can fathom the depth of +the abyss below; nor could I regard him as a safe counselor in the affairs +of this government, whose thoughts should be mainly bent on considering, +not how the Union should be best preserved, but how tolerable might be the +condition of the people when it shall be broken up and destroyed. + +While the Union lasts, we have high, exciting, gratifying prospects spread +out before us, for us and our children. Beyond that, I seek not to +penetrate the veil. God grant that, in my day, at least, that curtain may +not rise,--that on my vision never may be opened what lies behind. + +When my eyes shall be turned to behold, for the last time, the sun in +heaven, may I not see him shining on the broken and dishonored fragments of +a once glorious Union--on States dissevered discordant, belligerent,--on a +land rent with civil feuds, or drenched, it may be, in fraternal blood! Let +their last feeble and lingering glance rather behold the gorgeous ensign of +the republic, now known and honored throughout the earth, still full high +advanced, its arms and trophies streaming in their original luster, not a +stripe erased or polluted, nor a single star obscured, bearing for its +motto, no such miserable interrogatory as, "What is all this worth?" nor +those other words of delusion and folly, "Liberty first and Union +afterward"; but everywhere, spread all over in characters of living light, +blazing on all its ample folds, as they float over the sea and over the +land, and in every wind under the whole heavens, that other sentiment, dear +to every true American heart,--LIBERTY AND UNION, NOW AND FOREVER, ONE AND +INSEPARABLE! + + * * * * * + + +DEDICATION SPEECH AT GETTYSBURG. + +ABRAHAM LINCOLN. + + +Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent, +a new nation, conceived in Liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that +all men are created equal. Now we are engaged in a great civil war; testing +whether that nation, or any nation so conceived and so dedicated, can long +endure. We are met on a great battle-field of that war. We have come to +dedicate a portion of that field, as a final resting place for those who +here gave their lives that that nation might live. It is altogether fitting +and proper that we should do this. + +But, in a larger sense, we can not dedicate--we can not consecrate--we can +not hallow--this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here +have consecrated it far above our poor power to add or detract. The world +will little note, nor long remember what we say here, but it can never +forget what they did here. It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated +here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so +nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task +remaining before us--that from these honored dead we take increased +devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of +devotion--that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died +in vain--that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of +freedom--and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, +shall not perish from the earth. + +Historical: At the dedication of the national cemetery at Gettysburg, +November 19, 1863, President Lincoln was asked to be present and say a few +words. This address has become a classic. Edward Everett, the orator who +had delivered the long address of the day wrote to Mr. Lincoln, "I should +be glad if I could flatter myself that I came as near the central idea of +the occasion in two hours as you did in two minutes." + +Several versions of the speech have appeared, but the one here printed was +given out by President Lincoln himself as the authorized version. See +"Lincoln's Gettysburg Address," Century Magazine, Feb., 1894. + + * * * * * + + +LINCOLN, THE GREAT COMMONER + +EDWIN MARKHAM + + + When the Norn-Mother saw the Whirlwind Hour, + Greatening and darkening as it hurried on, + She bent the strenuous Heavens and came down + To make a man to meet the mortal need. + She took the tried clay of the common road-- + Clay warm yet with the genial heat of Earth, + Dashed through it all a strain of prophecy; + Then mixed a laughter with the serious stuff. + It was a stuff to wear for centuries, + A man that matched the mountains, and compelled + The stars to look our way and honor us. + + The color of the ground was in him, the red earth; + The tang and odor of the primal things-- + The rectitude and patience of the rocks; + The gladness of the wind that shakes the corn; + The courage of the bird that dares the sea; + The justice of the rain that loves all leaves; + The pity of the snow that hides all scars; + The loving kindness of the wayside well; + The tolerance and equity of light + That gives as freely to the shrinking weed + As to the great oak flaring to the wind-- + To the grave's low hill as to the Matterhorn + That shoulders out the sky. + And so he came. + From prairie cabin up to capitol + One fair ideal led our chieftain on. + Forevermore he burned to do his deed + With the fine stroke and gesture of a king. + He built the rail-pile as he built the State, + Pouring his splendid strength through every blow, + The conscience of him testing every stroke, + To make his deed the measure of a man. + + So came the Captain with the mighty heart: + And when the step of Earthquake shook the house + Wrenching the rafters from their ancient hold, + He held the ridge-pole up, and spiked again + The rafters of the Home. He held his place-- + Held the long purpose like a growing tree-- + Held on through blame and faltered not at praise. + And when he fell in whirlwind, he went down + As when a kingly cedar green with boughs + Goes down with a great shout upon the hills, + And leaves a lonesome place against the sky. + + +Biographical: Edwin Markham was born in Oregon, taught school in +California, and more recently has been a resident of Brooklyn. His poem +"The Man with the Hoe" brought him immediate fame. + + * * * * * + + +O CAPTAIN! MY CAPTAIN! + +WALT WHITMAN + + + O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done, + The ship has weather'd every rack, the prize we sought is won, + The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting, + While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring; + But O heart! heart! heart! + O the bleeding drops of red, + Where on the deck my Captain lies, + Fallen cold and dead. + + O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells; + Rise up--for you the flag is flung--for you the bugle trills, + For you bouquets and ribbon'd wreaths--for you the shores a-crowding, + For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning; + Here, Captain! dear father! + This arm beneath your head! + It is some dream that on the deck + You've fallen cold and dead. + + My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still, + My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will, + The ship is anchor'd safe and sound, its voyage closed and done, + From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with object won; + Exult, O shores! and ring, O bells! + But I with mournful tread, + Walk the deck my Captain lies, + Fallen cold and dead. + + +Biographical and Historical: Walt Whitman will always be remembered as the +author of this poem. It differs from his other poems in that it shows a +great deal of attention to form, to metre, and rhyme. He wrote not so much +with the aim to please as to arouse and uplift. He was very democratic in +his taste, and loved to mingle with the crowds on the ferries and +omnibuses. At different times he was school teacher, carpenter, and +journalist. This poem was written in appreciation of Lincoln, at the time +of his death. + + * * * * * + + +EXTRACTS FROM WASHINGTON'S FAREWELL ADDRESS TO THE PEOPLE + + +Friends and Fellow-Citizens, + +The period for a new election of a Citizen, to administer the Executive +Government of the United States, being not far distant, and the time +actually arrived, when your thoughts must be employed in designating the +person, who is to be clothed with that important trust, it appears to me +proper, especially as it may conduce to a more distinct expression of the +public voice, that I should now apprise you of the resolution I have +formed, to decline being considered among the number of those, out of whom +a choice is to be made.... + +The unity of government, which constitutes you one people, is also now dear +to you. It is justly so; for it is a main pillar in the edifice of your +real independence,--the support of your tranquillity at home and your peace +abroad, of your safety, of your prosperity, of that very liberty which you +so highly prize. + +But as it is easy to foresee that, from different causes and from different +quarters, much pains will be taken, many artifices employed, to weaken in +your minds the conviction of this truth; as this is the point in your +political fortress against which the batteries of internal and external +enemies will be most constantly and actively, though often covertly and +insidiously, directed,--it is of infinite moment that you should properly +estimate the immense value of your national union to your collective and +individual happiness; that you should cherish a cordial, habitual, and +immovable attachment to it; accustoming yourself to think and speak of it +as of the palladium of your political safety and prosperity; watching for +its preservation with jealous anxiety; discountenancing whatever may +suggest even a suspicion that it can, in any event, be abandoned; and +indignantly frowning upon the first dawning of every attempt to alienate +any portion of our country from the rest, or to enfeeble the sacred ties +which now link together the various parts. + +To the efficacy and permanency of your union a government for the whole is +indispensable. No alliances, however strict, between the parts can be an +adequate substitute; they must inevitably experience the infractions and +interruptions which all alliances in all times have experienced. Sensible +of this momentous truth, you have improved your essay, by the adoption of +the constitution of a government better calculated than your former for an +intimate union, and for the efficacious management of your common concerns. + +This government, the offspring of our own choice, uninfluenced and unawed, +adopted upon full investigation and mature deliberation, completely free in +its principles, in the distribution of its powers, uniting security with +energy, and containing within itself a provision for its own amendment, has +a just claim to your confidence and your support. Respect for its +authority, compliance with its laws, acquiescence in its measures, are +duties enjoined by the fundamental maxims of true liberty. The basis of our +political systems is the right of the people to make and to alter their +constitution of government; but the constitution which at any time exists, +till changed by an explicit and authentic act of the whole people, is +sacredly obligatory upon all. The very idea of the power and the right of +the people to establish government presupposes the duty of every individual +to obey the established government. + +All obstructions to the executions of the laws, all combinations and +associations, under whatever plausible character, with the real design to +direct, control, counteract, or awe the regular deliberation and action of +the constituted authorities, are destructive of this fundamental principle +and of fatal tendency. They serve to organize faction, to give it an +artificial and extraordinary force; to put, in the place of the delegated +will of the nation, the will of a party, often a small but artful and +enterprising minority of the community; and, according to the alternate +triumphs of different parties, to make the public administration the mirror +of the ill-concerted and incongruous projects of faction, rather than the +organ of consistent and wholesome plans digested by common counsels and +modified by mutual interests. + +However combinations or associations of the above description may now and +then answer popular ends, they are likely, in the course of time and +things, to become potent engines by which cunning, ambitious, and +unprincipled men will be enabled to subvert the power of the people, and to +usurp for themselves the reins of government; destroying afterward the very +engines which had lifted them to unjust dominion. + +Toward the preservation of your government and the permanency of your +present happy state, it is requisite not only that you steadily +discountenance irregular oppositions to its acknowledged authority, but +also that you resist with care the spirit of innovation upon its +principles, however specious the pretexts. One method of assault may be to +effect, in the forms of the constitution, alterations which will impair the +energy of the system, and thus to undermine what cannot be directly +overthrown. + +In all the changes to which you may be invited, remember that time and +habit are at least as necessary to fix the true character of governments as +of other human institutions; that experience is the surest standard by +which to test the real tendency of the existing constitution of a country; +that facility in changes, upon the credit of mere hypothesis and opinion, +exposes to perpetual change, from the endless variety of hypothesis and +opinion; and remember especially that for the efficient management of your +common interest in a country so extensive as ours, a government of as much +vigor as is consistent with the perfect security of liberty is +indispensable. Liberty itself will find in such a government, with powers +properly distributed and adjusted, its surest guardian. It is, indeed, +little else than a name where the government is too feeble to withstand the +enterprises of faction, to confine each member of the society within the +limits prescribed by the laws, and to maintain all in the secure and +tranquil enjoyment of the rights of person and property. + +It is important, likewise, that the habits of thinking in a free country +should inspire caution, in those intrusted with its administration, to +confine themselves within their respective constitutional spheres, avoiding +in the exercise of the powers of one department to encroach upon another. +The spirit of encroachment tends to consolidate the powers of all the +departments in one, and thus to create, whatever the form of government, a +real despotism. A just estimate of that love of power and proneness to +abuse it, which predominates in the human heart, is sufficient to satisfy +us of the truth of this position. The necessity of reciprocal checks in the +exercise of political power, by dividing and distributing it into different +depositories, and constituting each the guardian of the public weal against +invasion by the others, has been evinced by experiments ancient and modern; +some of them in our country and under our own eyes. To preserve them must +be as necessary as to institute them. + +If, in the opinion of the people, the distribution or modification of the +constitutional powers be in any particular wrong, let it be corrected by an +amendment in the way which the constitution designates. But let there be no +change by usurpation; for, though this, in one instance, may be the +instrument of good, it is the customary weapon by which free governments +are destroyed. The precedent must always greatly overbalance in permanent +evil any partial or transient benefit, which the use can at any time yield. + +Of all the dispositions and habits which lead to political prosperity, +religion and morality are indispensable supports. In vain would that man +claim the tribute of patriotism, who should labor to subvert these great +pillars of human happiness, these firmest props of the duties of men and +citizens. The mere politician, equally with the pious man, ought to respect +and to cherish them. A volume could not trace all their connections with +private and public felicity. + +Let it simply be asked, where is the security for property, for reputation, +for life, if the sense of religious obligation desert the oaths which are +the instruments of investigation in courts of justice? And let us with +caution indulge the supposition that morality can be maintained without +religion. Whatever may be conceded to the influence of refined education on +minds of peculiar structure, reason and experience both forbid us to expect +that national morality can prevail in exclusion of religious principle. + +It is substantially true that virtue or morality is a necessary spring of +popular government. The rule, indeed, extends with more or less force to +every species of free government. Who, that is a sincere friend to it, can +look with indifference upon attempts to shake the foundation of the fabric? + +Promote then, as an object of primary importance, institutions for the +general diffusion of knowledge. In proportion as the structure of a +government gives force to public opinion, it is essential that public +opinion should be enlightened. + +In offering to you, my countrymen, these counsels of an old and +affectionate friend, I dare not hope they will make the strong and lasting +impression I could wish; that they will control the usual current of the +passions, or prevent our nation from running the course, which has hitherto +marked the destiny of nations. But, if I may even flatter myself, that they +may be productive of some partial benefit, some occasional good; that they +may now and then recur to moderate the fury of party spirit, to warn +against the mischiefs of foreign intrigue, to guard against the impostures +of pretended patriotism; this hope will be a full recompense for the +solicitude for your welfare, by which they have been dictated. + +How far in the discharge of my official duties, I have been guided by the +principles which have been delineated, the public records and other +evidences of my conduct must witness to you and to the world. To myself, +the assurance of my own conscience is, that I have at least believed myself +to be guided by them. + +Though, in reviewing the incidents of my administration, I am unconscious +of intentional error, I am nevertheless too sensible of my defects not to +think it probable that I may have committed many errors. Whatever they may +be I fervently beseech the Almighty to avert or mitigate the evils to which +they may tend. I shall also carry with me the hope, that my country will +never cease to view them with indulgence; and that, after forty-five years +of my life dedicated to its service with an upright zeal, the faults of +incompetent abilities will be consigned to oblivion, as myself must soon be +to the mansions of rest. + +Relying on its kindness in this as in other things, and actuated by that +fervent love towards it, which is so natural to a man, who views in it the +native soil of himself and his progenitors for several generations; I +anticipate with pleasing expectation that retreat, in which I promise +myself to realize, without alloy, the sweet enjoyment of partaking, in the +midst of my fellow-citizens, the benign influence of good laws under a free +government, the ever favorite object of my heart, and the happy reward, as +I trust, of our mutual cares, labors, and dangers. + + * * * * * + + +THE MEMORY OF OUR FATHERS + +HENRY WARD BEECHER + + +We are called upon to cherish with high veneration and grateful +recollections the memory of our fathers. Both the ties of nature and the +dictates of policy demand this. And surely no nation had ever less occasion +to be ashamed of its ancestry, or more occasion for gratification in that +respect; for, while most nations trace their origin to barbarians, the +foundations of our nation were laid by civilized men, by Christians. Many +of them were men of distinguished families, of powerful talents, of great +learning and of preeminent wisdom, of decision of character, and of most +inflexible integrity. And yet not unfrequently they have been treated as if +they had no virtues; while their sins and follies have been sedulously +immortalized in satirical anecdote. + +The influence of such treatment of our fathers is too manifest. It creates +and lets loose upon their institutions the vandal spirit of innovation and +overthrow; for, after the memory of our fathers shall have been rendered +contemptible, who will uphold and sustain their institutions? The memory of +our fathers should be the watch-word of liberty throughout the land; for, +imperfect as they were, the world before had not seen their like, nor will +it soon, we fear, behold their like again. Such models of moral excellence, +such apostles of civil and religious liberty, such shades of the +illustrious dead looking down upon their descendants with approbation or +reproof, according as they follow or depart from the good way, constitute a +censorship inferior only to the eye of God; and to ridicule them is a +national suicide. + +The doctrines of our fathers have been represented as gloomy, +superstitious, severe, irrational, and of a licentious tendency. But when +other systems shall have produced a piety as devoted, a morality as pure, a +patriotism as disinterested, and a state of society as happy, as have +prevailed where their doctrines have been most prevalent, it may be in +season to seek an answer to this objection. + +The persecutions instituted by our fathers have been the occasion of +ceaseless obloquy upon their fame. And, truly, it was a fault of no +ordinary magnitude, that sometimes they did persecute. But let him whose +ancestors were not ten times more guilty cast the first stone, and the +ashes of our fathers will no more be disturbed. Theirs was the fault of the +age, and it will be easy to show that no class of men had, at that time, +approximated so nearly to just apprehensions of religious liberty; and that +it is to them that the world is now indebted for the more just and definite +views which now prevail. + +The superstition and bigotry of our fathers are themes on which some of +their descendants, themselves far enough from superstition, if not from +bigotry, have delighted to dwell. But when we look abroad and behold the +condition of the world, compared with the condition of New England, we may +justly exclaim, "Would to God that the ancestors of all the nations had +been not only almost, but altogether such bigots as our fathers were." + + +Biographical: Henry Ward Beecher was a noted preacher, orator, and writer. +For forty years he was pastor of Plymouth Church, Brooklyn. He lectured +extensively throughout the country, taking up the great issues of his time. +He died in 1887 at the age of seventy-four. + + * * * * * + + +THE AMERICAN FLAG + +J. E. DRAKE + + + When Freedom, from her mountain height, + Unfurled her standard to the air, + She tore the azure robe of night, + And set the stars of glory there; + She mingled with its gorgeous dyes + The milky baldric of the skies, + And striped its pure celestial white + With streakings of the morning light; + Then, from his mansion in the sun, + She called her eagle-bearer down, + And gave into his mighty hand + The symbol of her chosen land! + + Majestic monarch of the cloud, + Who rear'st aloft thy regal form, + To hear the tempest-trumpings loud, + And see the lightning lances driven, + When strive the warriors of the storm, + And rolls the thunder-drum of heaven-- + Child of the sun! to thee 'tis given + To guard the banner of the free, + To hover in the sulphur smoke, + To ward away the battle-stroke, + And bid its blendings shine afar, + Like rainbows on the cloud of war, + The harbingers of victory! + + Flag of the brave! thy folds shall fly, + The sign of hope and triumph high, + When speaks the signal trumpet tone, + And the long line comes gleaming on, + Ere yet the life-blood, warm and wet, + Has dimmed the glistening bayonet, + Each soldier's eye shall brightly turn + To where thy sky-born glories burn; + And as his springing steps advance, + Catch war and vengeance from the glance. + And when the cannon's mouthings loud, + Heave in wild wreaths the battle shroud, + And gory sabres rise and fall, + Like shoots of flame on midnight's pall; + Then shall thy meteor glances glow, + And cowering foes shall sink below + Each gallant arm that strikes beneath + That awful messenger of death. + + Flag of the seas! on ocean's wave + Thy stars shall glitter o'er the brave; + When death, careering on the gale, + Sweeps darkly round the bellied sail, + And frighted waves rush wildly back + Before the broadside's reeling rack, + Each dying wanderer of the sea, + Shall look at once to heaven and thee, + And smile to see thy splendors fly + In triumph o'er his closing eye. + + Flag of the free heart's hope and home! + By angel hands to valor given; + Thy stars have lit the welkin dome, + And all thy hues were born in heaven. + Forever float that standard sheet! + Where breathes the foe but falls before us, + With Freedom's soil beneath our feet, + And Freedom's banner streaming o'er us? + + +Biographical and Historical: The name of Joseph Rodman Drake is inseparably +associated with that of his friend, Fitz-Greene Halleck. Together they +contributed a series of forty poems to the New York Evening Post. Among +these was "The American Flag," the last four lines of which were written by +Halleck, to replace those written by Drake: + + "As fixed as yonder orb divine, + That saw thy bannered blaze unfurled, + Shall thy proud stars resplendent shine, + The guard and glory of the world." + +Drake was a youth of many graces of both mind and body, who wrote verses as +a bird sings--for the pure joy of it. His career was cut short by death +when he was only twenty-five years old. Of him Halleck wrote: + + "None knew thee but to love thee, + Nor named thee but to praise." + + * * * * * + + +WARREN'S ADDRESS AT THE BATTLE OF BUNKER HILL + +JOHN PIERPONT + + + Stand! the ground's your own, my braves! + Will ye give it up to slaves? + Will ye look for greener graves? + Hope ye mercy still? + What's the mercy despots feel? + Hear it in that battle peal! + Read it on yon bristling steel! + Ask it--ye who will. + + Fear ye foes who kill for hire? + Will ye to your _homes_ retire? + Look behind you! they're afire! + And, before you, see + Who have done it!--From the vale + On they come!--and will ye quail?-- + Leaden rain and iron hail + Let their welcome be! + + In the God of battles trust! + Die we may--and die we must: + But, O where can dust to dust + Be consigned so well, + As where heaven its dews shall shed, + On the martyred patriot's bed, + And the rocks shall raise their head, + Of his deeds to tell? + + +Biographical and Historical: John Pierpont was a Unitarian clergyman of +Connecticut, who published several volumes of poetry. General Joseph Warren +was one of the generals in command of the patriot army at the battle of +Bunker Hill, and was killed in the battle. He was counted one of the +bravest and most unselfish patriots of the Revolutionary War. In this poem +we have the poet's idea of how General Warren inspired his men. + + * * * * * + + +COLUMBUS + +JOAQUIN MILLER + + + Behind him lay the gray Azores, + Behind the Gates of Hercules; + Before him not the ghosts of shores, + Before him only shoreless seas. + The good mate said: "Now must we pray, + For lo! the very stars are gone. + Brave Admiral, speak, what shall I say?" + "Why, say 'sail on! sail on! and on!'" + + "My men grow mutinous day by day; + My men grow ghastly wan and weak." + The stout mate thought of home; a spray + Of salt wave washed his swarthy cheek. + "What shall I say, brave Admiral, say, + If we sight naught but seas at dawn?" + "Why, you shall say at break of day, + 'Sail on! sail on! and on!'" + + They sailed and sailed, as winds might blow. + Until at last the blanched mate said: + "Why, now not even God would know + Should I and all my men fall dead. + These very winds forget their way, + For God from these dread seas is gone, + Now speak, brave Admiral, speak and say"-- + He said: "Sail on! sail on! and on!" + + They sailed. They sailed. Then spake the mate; + "This mad sea shows his teeth to-night. + He curls his lip, he lies in wait, + With lifted teeth, as if to bite! + Brave Admiral, say but one good word: + What shall we do when hope is gone?" + The words leapt like a leaping sword; + "Sail on! sail on! and on!" + + Then, pale and worn, he kept his deck, + And peered through darkness. Ah, that night + Of all dark nights! And then a speck-- + A light! A light! A light! A light! + It grew, a starlit flag unfurled! + It grew to be Time's burst of dawn. + He gained a world; he gave that world + Its grandest lesson: "On! sail on!" + + +Biographical and Historical: Cincinnatus Heine Miller (Joaquin [hoa'kin] +Miller) was born in Indiana in 1841. Joining the general movement to the +West after the discovery of gold, his parents moved to the Pacific coast in +1850. He died in 1914. + +"In point of power, workmanship, and feeling, among all the poems written +by Americans, we are inclined to give first place to 'The Port of Ships,' +or 'Columbus,' by Joaquin Miller."--London Athenaeum. + + * * * * * + + +RECESSIONAL--A VICTORIAN ODE + +RUDYARD KIPLING + + + God of our fathers, known of old-- + Lord of our far-flung battle line-- + Beneath whose awful hand we hold + Dominion over palm and pine-- + Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet, + Lest we forget--lest we forget! + + The tumult and the shouting dies-- + The Captains and the Kings depart-- + Still stands Thine ancient sacrifice, + An humble and a contrite heart. + Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet, + Lest we forget--lest we forget! + + Far-called, our navies melt away-- + On dune and headland sinks the fire-- + Lo, all our pomp of yesterday + Is one with Nineveh and Tyre! + Judge of the Nations, spare us yet, + Lest we forget--lest we forget! + + If, drunk with sight of power, we loose + Wild tongues that have not Thee in awe-- + Such boasting as the Gentiles use, + Or lesser breeds without the Law-- + Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet, + Lest we forget--lest we forget! + + For heathen heart that puts her trust + In reeking tube and iron shard-- + All valiant dust that builds on dust, + And guarding calls not Thee to guard. + For frantic boast and foolish word, + Thy Mercy on Thy People, Lord! + + _Amen_. + + +Biographical and Historical: Rudyard Kipling was born Christmas Week, 1865, +in Bombay. After school life in England, he returned to India at the age of +seventeen, to do journalistic work. His tales of Indian. life and his +ballads describing the life of the British soldier won immediate favor. +Perhaps he is best known to the boys and girls as the author of the Jungle +Books. From 1892 to 1896 he lived in the United States. This poem, which +appeared in 1897, at the time of the Queen's Jubilee, struck a warning note +against the arrogance of power. + + * * * * * + + +A DEFINITION OF A GENTLEMAN + +CARDINAL NEWMAN + + +It is almost a definition of a gentleman to say he is one who never +inflicts pain. This description is both refined and, as far as it goes, +accurate. He is mainly occupied in merely removing the obstacles which +hinder the free and unembarrassed action of those about him; and he concurs +with their movements rather than takes the initiative himself. His benefits +may be considered as parallel to what are called comforts or conveniences +in arrangements of a personal nature: like an easy-chair or a good fire, +which do their part in dispelling cold and fatigue, though nature provides +both means of rest and animal heat without them. The true gentleman in like +manner carefully avoids whatever may cause a jar or a jolt in the minds of +those with whom he is cast;--all clashing of opinion, or collision of +feeling, all restraint, or suspicion, or gloom, or resentment; his great +concern being to make every one at their ease and at home. He has his eyes +on all his company; he is tender toward the bashful, gentle toward the +distant, and merciful toward the absurd; he can recollect to whom he is +speaking; he guards against unseasonable allusions, or topics which may +irritate; he is seldom prominent in conversation, and never wearisome. He +makes light of favors while he does them, and seems to be receiving when he +is conferring. He never speaks of himself except when compelled, never +defends himself by a mere retort; he has no ears for slander or gossip, is +scrupulous in imputing motives to those who interfere with him, and +interprets everything for the best. He is never mean or little in his +disputes, never takes unfair advantage, never mistakes personalities or +sharp sayings for arguments, or insinuates evil which he dare not say out. +From a long-sighted prudence, he observes the maxim of the ancient sage, +that we should ever conduct ourselves toward our enemy as if he were one +day to be our friend. He has too much good sense to be affronted at +insults; he is too well employed to remember injuries, and too indolent to +bear malice. He is patient, forbearing, and resigned, on philosophical +principles; he submits to pain because it is inevitable, to bereavement +because it is irreparable, and to death because it is his destiny. If he +engages in controversy of any kind, his disciplined intellect preserves him +from the blundering discourtesy of better, perhaps, but less educated +minds; who, like blunt weapons, tear and hack instead of cutting clean, who +mistake the point in argument, waste their strength on trifles, misconceive +their adversary, and leave the question more involved than they find it. He +may be right or wrong in his opinion, but he is too clear-headed to be +unjust; he is as simple as he is forcible, and as brief as he is decisive. +Nowhere shall we find greater candor, consideration, indulgence: he throws +himself into the minds of his opponents, he accounts for their mistakes. He +knows the weakness of human reason as well as its strength, its province, +and its limits. + +Biographical: John Henry Newman, 1801-1890, a distinguished Prelate was +born in London. He graduated from Trinity College, Oxford, and became noted +both as a scholar and a writer. "Lead, Kindly Light," a poem of rare +beauty, was written by him while on a voyage in the Mediterranean Sea. This +selection is from his book, "The Idea of a University". He was made a +cardinal in 1879. + + * * * * * + + + + +GLOSSARY + + +abandon (a-ban'dun), give up. + +abatement (a-bat'ment), putting an end to. + +abbey (ab'i), monastery; convent. + +abnegation (ab'ne-ga'shun), denial. + +aboon (a-boon'), Scotch for above. + +Absalom (ab'sa-lom), + +absolute (ab'so-lut), without any limits or conditions. + +abstinence (ab'sti-nens), refraining from certain kinds of pleasures. + +abstract (ab-strakt'), separate. + +abyss (a-bis'), a bottomless gulf. + +Acadie (a'ka'de'), + +accession (ak-sesh'un), coming into possession of. + +acord (a-kord'), blend. + +acost (a'kost'), approach; speak to. + +acumulate (a-ku'mu-lat), collect; store up. + +acuracy (ak'u-ra-si), exactness. + +acurately (ak'u-rat-li), precisely. + +acquiescence (ak'wi-es'ens), a yielding or agreeing. + +Act of Navigation (act of nav'i-ga'shun), an ordinance passed by the +British Parliament for the American colonies by which goods were to be +imported to the colonies free of duty for a period of years, provided all +goods were sent out of the colonies in British ships. + +adamant (ad'a-mant), a stone of extreme hardness. + +adapt (a-dapt), fit; change to suit. + +Adayes (a-da'yes), an early settlement in southwestern United States. + +addled (ad'ld), rotten; confused, + +adequate (ad'e-kwat), fully sufficient. + +adherence (ad-her'ens), steady attachment. + +adherent (ad-her'ent), clinging; a follower. + +adieu (a-du'), good-by, farewell. + +adjust (a-just'), fit; to put in order. + +administer (ad-min'is-ter), manage or conduct (public affairs); tender an +oath. + +admiral (ad'mi-ral), a naval officer of the highest rank. + +ado (a-doo'), trouble, fuss. + +Adonis (a-do'nis), in Greek mythology, a youth of marvelous beauty. + +adoption (a-dop'shun), acceptance + +adrift (a-drift'), floating at the mercy of the wind and waves. + +advent (ad'vent), coming, approach + +adversary (ad'ver-sa-ri), one opposed, a foe. + +adverse (ad'vers), contrary. + +aerial (a-e'ri-al), pertaining to the air; lofty. + +Aershot (ar'skot), the town Aerschot in Belgium, 23 miles northeast of +Brussels. + +affable (af'a-bl), friendly, gracious. + +affectation, (af'ek-ta'shun), an attempt to assume what is not natural or +real. + +affidavit (af'i-da'vit), a sworn statement in writing. + +aft (aft), near or towards the stern of a vessel. + +Agassiz (ag'a-se), a celebrated Swiss-American naturalist who came to the +United States in 1846. He was professor of geology at Harvard. + +aggression (a-gresh'un), attack. + +aghast (a-gasf), terrified. + +agitate (aj'i-tat), stir up; discuss. + +agog (a-gog'), eager. + +agony (ag'o-ni), great pain. + +aid de camp (ad'de-kamp'; ad'de-kan'), an officer who assists a general in +correspondence and in directing movements. + +Aidenn (a'den), paradise (from the Arabic word for Eden, used by Poe for +the sake of the rhyme). + +Aix (aks), a city in Prussia, founded by the Romans and a favorite +residence of Charlemagne. + +Aix-la-Chapelle (aks'la-sha'pel), is the French name and Aachen the German. + +akimbo (a-kim'bo), with hand on the hip and elbow turned outward. + +alacrity (a-lak'ri-ti), cheerful readiness. + +Aladdin (a-lad'in), in the "Arabian Nights' Entertainments," the possessor +of a wonderful lamp with magic charms. + +alarum (a-lar'um), an old form for alarm. + +Albion (al'bi-un), an ancient name of England, + +Albyn (al'bin), + +Alexander (al'eg-zan'der), surnamed "the Great," was a famous conqueror who +lived in the fourth century B. C.; founder of Alexandria in Egypt. + +alienate (al'yen-at), make strange; take away. + +all-absorbing (ol-ab-sorb'ing), taking up completely. + +Allah (al'la), in the Mohammedan faith, the name for God. + +Allahu (al-la'hoo), probably a Persian ejaculation. + +all-besetting (ol-be-set'ing), surrounding on all sides. + +allege (a-lej'), declare; affirm. + +allegiance (a-le-jans), loyalty. + +allegory (al'e-go-ri), description of one thing under the image of another; +parable. + +alliance (a-li'ans), union of interests; league. + +alloy (a-loi'), a baser metal mixed with a finer. + +aloe (al'e), a fragrant plant growing in warm climates; the American aloe +is the century plant. + +alteration (ol'ter-a'shun), making different; change. + +alternately (al-ter'nat-li) by turns. + +alternative (al-tur'na-tiv), a choice between two or more things. + +amain (a-man'), with full force. + +amaranth (am'a-ranth), an imaginary flower supposed never to fade. + +Ambaaren (am'ba-ar'en), + +ambassador (am-bas'a-der), a minister representing his ruler or country at +a foreign court. + +ambition (am-bish'un), desire for honor or power. + +ambrosial (am-bro'zhi-al), pertaining to the fabled food of the gods, which +immortalized them. + +amendment (a-mend'ment), a change for the better; a change in a bill or +motion by adding or omitting. + +amiable (a'mi-a-b'l), lovable, goodnatured. + +amidships (a-mid'ships), in the middle of a ship. + +amorpha (a-mor'fa), a plant belonging to the pea family and having +blue-violet flowers. + +amphitheatre (am'fi-the'a-ter), an oval or circular building with rising +tiers of seats about an open space. + +ample (am'p'l), abundant; full. + +Amun (a'mon), an Egyptian deity generally represented as a ram. + +anchorite (an'ko-rit), one who renounces the world and secludes himself, a +hermit. + +andirons (and'i'urnz), metallic stands to support wood in a fireplace. + +anecdote (an'ek-dot), a short narrative of some particular incident. + +Angel of Death. See Exodus, chapter 12 + +Angel of the backward look; memory + +Angelus (an'je-lus), the bell tolled in the morning, at noon, and in the +evening to tell the faithful the time for prayer. + +Angus (an'gus), + +annals (an'alz), historical records. + +anon (a-non'), in a little while. + +anticipate (an-tis'i-pat), count upon in advance; foresee. + +antique (an-tek'), old. + +antiquity (an-tik'wi-ti), great age + +apathetic (ap'a-thet'ik), without feeling. + +apathy (ap'a-thi), lack of feeling. + +apex (a'peks), summit; point. + +apology (a-pol'e-ji), an acknowledgment for some injurious act; an excuse. + +Apolonius (ap-po-lo'ni-us), a philosopher and wonder-worker who lived at +about the same time as Christ. + +apostrophe (a-pos'tro-fe), a speech or address to some person or thing +absent or present. Apostrophe to the Ocean, + +appalling (a-pol'ing), terrifying. + +apparel (a-par'el), clothing. + +apparent (a-par'ent), clear, plainly to be seen. + +appealing (a-pel'ing), calling for aid or sympathy. + +apprehension (ap're-hen'shun), a taking hold of; anxiety. + +apprise (a-priz'), inform. + +approbation (ap'ro-ba'shun), liking; consent. + +approximate (a-prok'si-mat), approach; nearly exact. + +arabesque (ar'a-besk'), a kind of ornament, brought to high perfection by +Arabian artists and consisting of lines, figures, fruits, flowers, and men +variously grouped. + +Arachthus (a-rak'thus), the ancient name of a river in Greece; modern Arta. + +arbiter (ar'bi-ter), one appointed to determine a controversy; umpire. + +architect (ar'ki-tekt), one who is skilled in planning, designing, and +constructing buildings. + +Ardennes (ar-den'), + +ardent (ar'dent), burning; passionate. + +ardor (ar'der), heat; zeal. + +arduous (ar'du-us), hard, difficult. + +arena (a-re'na), the sanded area in the central part of a Roman +amphitheater. + +argosy (ar'go-si), a large merchant vessel. + +argument (ar'gu-ment), proof or reasons in a controversy. + +Armada (ar-ma'da), + +armament (ar'ma-ment), arms, ships and other equipment for war. + +aroma (a-ro'ma), fragrance; a spicy perfume. + +array (a-ra'), clothe; an orderly collection. + +arrogance (ar'e-gans), pride with contempt of others. + +artifice (ar'ti-fis), workmanship; artful trick. + +artisan (ar'ti-zan), one skilled in some art or trade. + +ascertain (as'er-tan'), learn for certain. + +Ashur (a'shoor), + +askance (a-skans'), sideways. + +aspect (as'pekt), look. + +asperse (as-purs'), sprinkle; defame. + +asphodel (as'fo-del), a lily, in Greek mythology the special flower of the +dead. The English daffodil is derived from this Greek word. + +aspiration (as'pi-ra'shun), strong wish, high desire. + +assail (a-sal'), attack violently. + +assailant (a-sal'ant), one who attacks. + +assault (a-solt'), a violent attack. + +assemblage (a-sem'blaj), a company of people gathered together. + +assiduity (as'i-du'i-ti), constant attention; industry. + +assiduous (a-sid'u-us), busy; persevering. + +assign (a-sin'), give over. + +Assyria (a-sir'i-a), an ancient state in Asia, east of the Tigris river. + +astern (a-sturn'), in the rear part of the ship. + +astounding (as-tound'mg), astonishing. + +asunder (a-sun'der), apart. + +Atchafalaya (ach'a-fa-li'a), an outlet of the Red and Mississippi rivers in +southern Louisiana. + +atilt (a-tilf), balanced lightly. + +Atlantic Monthly, a magazine first published in 1857, with Lowell as +editor. + +attain (a-tan'), reach; accomplish. + +attaint (a-tant'), corrupt; disgrace. + +attenuated (a-ten'u-at'ed), thinned, slender. + +attitude (at'i-tud), position; feeling. + +attribute (a-trib'ut), give; refer. + +attribute (at'ri-but), characteristic; quality. + +audacity (o-das'i-ti), boldness. + +audible (o'di-b'l), capable of being heard. + +auditor (o'di-ter), a hearer. + +august (o-gust'), majestic; solemn. + +auroral (o-ro'ral), pertaining to the dawn, rosy. + +austere (es-ter'), severe. + +austerity (os-ter'i-ti), severity; severe simplicity. + +authentic (o-then'tik), true; genuine. + +autocrat (e'to-krat), an absolute ruler. + +avail (a-val'), help; be of use. + +Ave Maria (a'va ma-re'a), Hail Mary, first words of a Roman Catholic prayer +to the Virgin Mary. The words are those of the Angel Gabriel, hence the +prayer is called the Angelus. + +avenge (a-venj'), punish in order to execute justice. + +aversion (a-vur'shun), dislike. + +avert (a-vurt'), turn aside. + +awry (a-ri'), turned or twisted: crooked. + +aye and anon (a and a-non'), continually. + +Azores (a-zorz'), a group of islands in the Atlantic belonging to Portugal, +and 800 miles west of it. + +azure (azh'ur), the clear blue color of the sky. + +Baal (ba'al), the supreme god o! the Assyrians, + +Babylonish jargon (bab'ilo'nish), unintelligible language. See story of the +"tower of Babel." Gen. XI. + +bacchanal (bak'a-nal), a carouser; a follower of Bacchus, the god of wine. + +Bacchantes (ba-kan'tez), priestesses of Bacchus, the god of wine. + +bairn (barn), Scottish name for a child. + +Balaklava (ba'la-kla'va), a city in the Crimea on the Black Sea. + +baldric (bol'drik), a broad belt worn over the shoulder and under the +opposite arm. + +ballad (bal'ad), a short poem telling a story. + +balm (bam), anything that soothes pain. + +balm in Gilead (bam in gil'e-ad), a biblical expression meaning comfort or +healing, + +balmy (bam'i), mild; soothing; fragrant. + +bandit (ban'dit), an outlaw. + +baneful (ban'fool), injurious. + +Bannockburn (ban'uk-burn), a battlefield in Scotland upon which Robert +Bruce defeated the English. + +Baptiste Le-blanc (ba'tesf le blan'), + +bar (bar), the legal profession. + +bard (bard), a poet. + +barge (barj), a boat. + +barometer (ba-rom'e-ter), an instrument for determining the weight or +pressure of the atmosphere. + +barouche (ba-robsh'), four-wheeled carriage, with a falling top, and two +double seats on the inside. + +barrack (bar'ak), a building for soldiers, especially when in garrison, + +barrier (bar'i-er), an obstruction or limit. + +bask (bask), warm; lie comfortably, + +baste (bast), drip fat on meat in roasting. + +battery (bat'er-i), two or more pieces of artillery in the field. + +bayonet (ba'e-net), a dagger fitted on the muzzle of a musket. + +bayou (bi'oo), an inlet from a gulf, lake, or large river. + +Beau Se-jour (bo-sa-zhoer'), a French fort upon the neck of land connecting +Acadia and the mainland. It had just been taken by the British, + +"beard the lion," defy. + +Beautiful Gate, an entrance to the temple in Jerusalem. See Acts III-2 and +John X-7. + +Beautiful River, the Ohio. + +beck (bek), call. + +beetling (be'tling), projecting, jutting out. + +Beg (bag), + +begotten (be-got'n), caused to exist; born. + +beguile (be-gil'), relieve the tedium or weariness of, entertain. + +belfry (bel'fri), a bell tower. + +Bell, name of an inn. + +Belle Aurore (bel e-ror'), the dawn. + +"bell or book," religious ceremony. + +Belle-fontaine (bel-fon-tan'), + +belligerent (be-lij'er-ent), waging war. + +bellows (bel'oz), an instrument for driving air through a tube. + +"belted knight," girt with a belt as an honorary distinction. + +benedicite (ben'e-d'is'i-te), a chant or hymn, the Latin version of which +begins with this word; an exclamation corresponding to "Bless you!" + +benediction (ben'e-dik'shun), a blessing. + +beneficence (be-nef'i-sens), goodness or charity. + +benign (be-nin'), of a kind disposition. + +benignant (be-nig'nant), kind. + +beseech (be-sech'), entreat. + +bestead (be-sted'), put in peril. + +bestial (bes'chal), beastly; vile. + +bestow (be-sto'), give; grant. + +betrothal (be-troth'al), contract to anyone for a marriage. + +beverage (bev'er-aj), drink. + +bicker (bik'er), move quickly with a pattering noise, + +bier (her), a frame on which a corpse is borne to the grave. + +bigot (big'ut), one blindly devoted to his own opinion; narrow-minded. + +bigotry (big'ut-ri), narrow-mindedness. + +biography (bi-eg'ra-fi), the written history of a person's life. + +birkie (bur'ki), + +blanch (blanch), take the color out of; whiten. + +blasphemy (blas'fe-mi), impious speech against God or sacred things. + +blast (blast), a violent gust of wind. + +blazoned (bla'z'nd), adorned, depicted in color. + +blithe (blith), gay, joyous. + +blithesome (blitn'sum), happy, gay, + +Blomidon (blo'mi-dun), a mountain in Nova Scotia. + +bodkin (bod'km), a pointed implement for making holes in cloth. + +bondsman (bondz'man), one who gives security for another. + +"bonnet and plume," a soft cap worn by men in Scotland. + +Boom (bom), a town in Belgium. + +boon (boon), a gift; bountiful; gay. + +bootless (bpot'les), useless. + +Border (bor'der), the frontier between England and Scotland, + +"bore the bell," carried off the prize. A bell was formerly used as a prize +in races. + +bosky (bos'ki), woody or bushy. + +bosom (booz'um), the breast. + +Bothnia (both'nr-a), Gulf of the northern arm of the Baltic Sea between +Finland and Sweden. + +bountiful (boun'ti-fobl), liberal. + +bourn (born), a boundary; limit. + +bow (bou), the forward part of a ship, (bo) to rhyme with tow. + +Bowdoin (bo'd'n), in Brunswick, Maine, college from which Longfellow +graduated in 1825. + +Bozzaris, Marco (bo-zar'is. Mar'ko), + +brackish (brak'ish), saltish; distasteful. + +Braddock (brad'uk), a British general who met defeat and was killed in +1755. + +Braganza (bra-gan'za), a reigning family of Portugal. + +brake (brak), a fern; a thicket. + +brawl (brol), noise: quarrel. + +breach (brech), an opening in; a break. + +breakers (brak'erz), waves breaking into foam against the shore. + +breeches (brich'ez), trousers. + +Breton, (bret'un), a province of France. + +brig (brig), a two-masted vessel. + +brigade (bri-gad'), a body of troops larger than a regiment. + +brink (brink), verge or edge. + +British Ministry, the British Government. + +Briton (brit'un), a native of England. + +broadside (brod'sid'), the side of a ship above the water line, from bow to +quarter. + +broadsword (brod'sord'), a sword with a broad blade and cutting edge. + +Brook Farm, a farm near Boston, where an experiment in agriculture and +education was tried by a group of literary people. + +Brunswick (brunz-wik), Duke of Brunswick (Frederick William) was killed in +the engagement described, + +Brutus (broq'tus), a Roman politician who joined in the assassination of +Caesar. + +Buckholm (buk'hom), + +buffcoat (buf'kot), a military coat made of buff leather. + +buffet (buf'et), a blow. + +bulkhead (bulk'hed'), a wall to resist pressure of earth or water. + +Bunker Hill, a hill near Boston where a famous battle was fought. + +bouyancy (bou'an-si), lightness. + +burger (bur'get), an inhabitant of a borough. + +burgesses (bur'jes-es), citizens of a borough. + +Burgundian (bur-gun'di-an), pertaining to Burgundy, a province of France on +the Rhone river. + +buskin (bus'kin), a covering for the foot and leg, worn by tragic actors. + +cad (ca'd), Scotch for called. + +cadence (ka'dens), a fall of the voice; rhythm. + +Cadmus (kad'mus), in Greek legend the founder of Thebes and introducer of +the letters of the Greek alphabet. + +Caesar. Julius (se'zar), (l00 B. C.-44 B. C.), a famous Roman general, +statesman and writer. + +Caius Marius (ka'yus ma're-us), + +calamity (ka-lam'i-ti), misfortune; disaster. + +calender (kal'en-der), one whose business it is to press cloth or paper +between cylindrical rollers. + +calumny (kal'um-ni), slander. + +"Calvin's creed." Calvin was a celebrated reformer whose doctrines are +noted for their severity. + +Cameron (kam'er-eri), + +candid (kan'did), frank; open. + +Cannobie Lee (kan'e-be le), a lea or large open space in Scotland. + +cannonade (kan'un-ad'), a discharging of cannon. + +capacity (ka-pas'i-ti), power. + +"cap and bells," the tokens or signs of a jester or clown, therefore, +foolish pleasures. + +Cape Palmas (pal'mas), a promontory on the coast of Liberia, western +Africa. + +caper (ka'per), "cutting a caper," to leap about in a frolicsome manner. + +capon (ka'pon), choice chicken. + +caprice (ka-pres'), whim, fancy. + +Capua (cap'u-a), an ancient city in Italy near Naples, famous for its +wealth and luxury. + +career (ka-rer'), move rapidly. + +carrion (kar'i-un), dead and decaying flesh of an animal. + +Carthage (kar'thaj), an ancient city in northern Africa. Its wars with Rome +are known as the Punic Wars. + +casement (kas'ment), a hinged window sash. + +casual (kazh'u-al), happening without regularity. + +catholic (kath'e-lik), liberal + +cauldron (kol'drun), a large kettle + +causeway (koz wa), raised road over wet ground. + +cavalcade (kav'al-kad'), a procession of persons on horseback. + +celestial (se-les'chal), heavenly, divine. + +cenotaph (sen'o-taf), a monument to one buried elsewhere. + +censer (sen'ser), a vessel in which incense is burned. + +censorship (sen'sor-ship), office or power to examine papers for the press +and suppress what is thought harmful. + +censure (sen'shfir), blame. + +century-circled (sen'tu-ri-sur'k'ld), having a hundred circles, indicating +its age. + +cessation (se-sa'shun), pause, stop. + +cestus (ses'tus), girdle. + +chaise (shaz), a two-wheeled carriage. + +chalice (chal'is), a cup. + +Chalkley's Journal. Thomas Chalkley was a traveling Quaker preacher. His +journal, published in 1747, told of his many wonderful experiences. + +Chambered Nautilus (cham'berd no'ti-lus), a shellfish belonging to the +highest class of mollusks. + +chancel (chan'sel), that part of a church containing the altar. + +chanticleer (chan'ti-kler), a cock, so called from his clear voice in +crowing. + +chaos (ka-os), disorder. + +chaotic (ka-ot'ik), confused. + +chaplet (chap'let), wreath. + +characterize (char'ak-ter-iz), describe. + +chasm (kaz'm), deep opening, gap. + +Chattahoochee (chat'a-hoo'chi), a river in Georgia which forms part of its +western boundary. + +chaunt (chant), song, especially one that is solemn and slow. + +Cheapside (chep'sid), the central east-and-west street of London, formerly +a market. "Chepe" is the old English word for market. + +Chersonese (kur'so-nez), Athenians who had colonized the peninsula between +the Hellespont and the Gulf of Melos. Miltiades ruled over them. + +chimerical (ki-mer'i-kal), unreal, fantastic. + +chivalry (shiv'al-ri), manners of knighthood, courtesy. + +chowder (chou'der), a dish made of fresh fish or clams, biscuit, etc., +stewed together. + +chronicle (kron'i-k'l), historical record. + +churlish (chur'lish), rough, ill bred. + +ci devant (se'de-van'), former. + +circuit (sur'kit), a regular journey from place to place; the district +journeyed over. + +circumscribe (sur'kum-skrib') inclose, encircle. + +citadel ( sit'a-del), fortress. + +"civil feuds" (siv'il fuds), quarrels within one's own country. + +clamor (klam'er), an outcry; uproar. + +clan (klan), + +clang (klang), strike together so as to produce a ringing metallic sound. + +clangor (klanger), a sharp, harsh, ringing sound. + +clapboard (klap'bord), a narrow board, thicker at one edge than at the +other, for weatherboarding houses. + +cleave (klev), cling; open or crack. + +cleft (kleft), crack, crevice. + +clement (klem'ent), mild. + +clergy (klur'ji), a body of ministers of the gospel. + +cloud-vesture (kloud-ves'tur), clothing of clouds. + +Cochecho (ko-che'cho), Indian name for Dover, N. H. + +cocked hat (kokt), a hat with the brim turned up. + +cohesion (ko-he'zhun), close union. + +cohort (ko'hort), in the ancient Roman army, a body of about 500 soldiers. + +coil (koil), trouble; the body. + +coincidence (ko-in'si-dens), a happening at the same time. + +colossal (ko-los'al), of enormous size. + +Comanches (ko-man'chez), a tribe of Indians noted for their warlike +character. + +comely (kum'li), pleasing. + +comment (kom'ent), meditate upon; a remark or criticism. + +commissioner (ko-mish'un-er) an officer having charge of some department of +public service. + +commodity (ko-mod'i-ti), goods, wares. + +communal (kom'u-nal), having property in common. + +commune (ko-mun'), take counsel. + +communicate (ko-mu'm-kat), make known. + +communion (ko-mun'yun), intercourse. + +compass (kum'pas), size, capacity. + +compensate (kom'pen-sat), recompense or reward. + +compete (kom-pet'), seek or strive for the same thing. + +competence (kom'pe-tens), property sufficient for comfort. + +complacency (kom-pla'sen-si), self-satisfaction. + +compliance (kom-pli'ans), yielding. + +comply (kom-pli'), yield, assent. + +component (kom-po'nent), composing; an ingredient. + +comport (kom-port'), agree or suit conduct. + +compose (kom-poz'), put together: quiet. + +composition (kom'po-zish'un), combination, make-up. + +composure (kom-po'zhur), calm. + +comprehend (kom'pre-hend'), understand. + +comprehension (kom'pre-hen'shun), perception, understanding. + +comprehensive (Kom'pre-hen'siv), including much. + +compressed (kom-prest') pressed together. + +comprise (kom-priz'), include. + +compromise (kom'pro-miz), an agreement in which all parties concerned give +up something. + +concave (kon'kav), hollow and curved in. + +conceal (kon-sel'), hide from observation. + +concede (kon-sed'), grant or allow. + +conceive (kon-sev'), understand: think. + +concenter (kon-sen'ter), bring to, or meet in a common center; condense, + +concentrate (kon'sen-trat), bring to, or meet in a common center; condense. + +concentric (kon-sen'trik), having a common center. + +conception (kon-sep'shun), formation in the mind of an image or notion. + +conciliate (kon-sil'i-at), reconcile, pacify. + +conclusive (kon-kloo'siv), convincing; final. + +concord (kon'kord), state of agreement; harmony. + +concurrence (kon-kur'ens), agreement in opinion. + +conduce (kon-dus') lead or tend. + +confound (kon-found') confuse; blend. + +congeal, (kon-jel'), freeze; thicken. + +congregate (kon'gre-gat), assemble. + +conjure (kon-joor'), call on solemnly. + +conjure (kun'jer), call forth or expel by magic arts. + +conjuring book (kun'jer-ing), a copy of Cornelius' Agrippa's "Magic," +printed in 1657. + +connubial (ko-nu'bi-al), pertaining to marriage. + +Conscript Fathers (kon'skript), a translation of a certain form used in +addressing the senate of ancient Rome. + +consecrate (kon'se-krat), dedicate, hallow. + +conservative (kon-sur'va-tiv), opposed to change; safe. + +consign (kon-sin'), intrust; deliver. + +consistent (koti-Sis'tent), not contradictory; having harmony among its +parts. + +construe (kon'stroo), interpret, explain. + +consul (kon'sul), commercial agent of a government in a foreign country; a +magistrate. + +consume (kon-sum') destroy; swallow up. + +consummation (kon's'u-ma'shun), achievement; end. + +contagious (kon-ta'jus), catching. + +contemplate (kon'tem-plat), view; study. + +contemptible (kon-temp'ti-b'l), deserving disdain; despised. + +contemptuous (kon-temp'tu-us), scornful. + +contention (kon-ten'shun), strife. + +contexture (kon-teks'tur), system, texture. + +continuity (kon'ti-nu'i-ti), the being continuous. + +contrite (kon'trit), humbly penitent. + +contrition (kon-trish'un), self reproach. + +contumely (kon'tu-me-li), disdain, scorn. + +convene (kon-ven'), assemble. + +convex (kon'veks), rising or swelling into a rounded form; opposite from +concave. + +convoluted (kon'vo-lut'ed), rolled together, one part upon another. + +convulse (kon-vuls') contract violently and irregularly. + +coof (koof), + +coot (koot), a kind of duck. + +copious (ko'pi-us), plentiful. + +coppice (kop is), a grove of growth. + +corbel (kor'bel), a bracket. + +cordage (kor'daj), anything made of rope or cord. + +corroborate (ko-rob'o-rat), make more certain, confirm. + +corrupt (ko-rupt'), change from good to bad. + +corse (kors), a corpse. + +corselet (kors'let), breastplate. + +Corsica (kor'si-ka), an island in the Mediterranean, belonging to France, +the birthplace of Napoleon. + +Cossacks (kos'aks), a military people inhabiting the steppes of Russia. + +council (koun'sil), assembly or meeting, assembly for advice. + +counsel (koun'sel), interchange of opinions; advise. + +countenance (koun'ti-nans), appearance of the face, the features. + +counterfeit (koun'ter-fit), that which resembles another thing; carry on a +deception. + +counterpart (koun'ter-part'), a copy, duplicate. + +Coureur-de-bois (koo'rur'de-bwa'), a class of men, French by birth, who, +through long association with the Indians were only half civilized. Their +chief occupation was conducting the canoes of the traders along the lakes +and rivers of the interior. + +courier (koo'rl-er), a messenger. + +Court of St. James, the official name of the British court. St. James's +Palace was formerly the royal residentce. + +courteous (kur'te-us), polite. + +courtesy (kur'te-si), good breeding. + +cove (kov), a small inlet or bay. + +covertly (kuv'ert-li), secretly. + +covet (kuv'et), long for. + +craft (kraft), art or skill; a vessel. + +crag (krag), steep, rugged rock. + +Craigie House (krag'i), the house in Cambridge in which Longfellow lived +from 1836 until his death. During the Revolution, it had been Washington's +headquarters. + +crane (kran), an iron arm fastened to a fireplace and used for supporting +kettles over the fire, + +cranny (kran'i), a chink. + +crank (krank), top-heavy. + +craven (kra'v'n), coward; faint-hearted. + +craw (kro), crop or stomach. + +credentials (kre-den'shalz), testimonies of the bearer's right to +recognition. + +creditor (kred'i-ter), one to whom money is due. + +credulous (kred'e-lus), apt to believe on slight evidence. + +Creeks (krekz), a powerful confederation of Indians who occupied the +greater part of Alabama and Georgia. + +crescent (kres'ent), the increasing moon; anything shaped like a new moon; +emblem of the Turkish Empire. + +crest (krest), upper curve of a horse's neck. + +crevice (krev'is), a narrow crack. + +crier (kri'er), one who gives notice by proclamation. + +criterion (kri-te'ri-un), standard of judging. + +critic (krit'Ik), one skilled in judging. + +critical (krit'i-kal), decisive; important. + +Croisickese (kroiz'i-kez), an inhabitant of Croisic, a small +fishing-village near the mouth of the Loire. Here Browning wrote Herve +Riel. + +Cromwell, Oliver (1599-1658), commander-in-chief of the parliamentary +forces in the struggle with Charles I of England. + +cronies (kro'niz), intimate companions. + +cross (kros), emblem of the Roman Catholic church. + +croupe (kroop), the place on the horse behind the saddle. + +crucifix (kroo'si'fiks), a representation of the figure of Christ upon the +cross. + +cruise (krooz), a voyage in various directions. + +crypt (kript), a vault; cell for burial purposes. + +crystaline (kris'tal-in), pure; transparent; consisting of crystal. + +culprit (kul'prit), a criminal. + +cumberless (kum'ber-les), without care. + +cumbrous (kum'brus), burdensome. + +cunning (kun'ing), skill. + +"cunning-warded keys," knowledge which comes only from close observation +and which is hidden from the less observant. + +curb (kurb), to keep in check. + +curfew (kur'fu), an evening bell, originally to cover fires and retire to +rest. + +curlew (kur'lu), a wading bird, having a long, curved bill. + +custom (kus'tum), duty or toll imposed by law on commodities imported or +exported. + +cylindrical (si-lin'dri-kal), having the form of a cylinder. + +Dalhem (dal'em), town in Belgium. + +dalliance (dal'i-ans), delay; interchange of caresses. + +Damfreville (dam'fre-vil), commander of the fleet. + +Dante's Divine Comedy (dan'te), celebrated Italian poem in three parts, +"Hell," "Purgatory," "Paradise." + +dapper (dap'er), little and active; trim. + +darkling (dark'ling), gloomy. + +Dartmouth (dart'muth), college at Hanover, N. H. + +dastard (das'tard), coward. + +daunted (dant'ed), dismayed. + +dauntless (dant'les), fearless. + +David. + +"dead of night," middle of the night. + +dearth (durth), want, lack. + +debatable (de-bat'a-b'l), open to question or dispute. + +decease (de-ses'), death. + +decisive (de-si'siv), positive, final. + +decorum (de-ko'rum), proper conduct. + +decree (de-kre'), law; decision given by a court or umpire. + +decrepit (de-krep'it), worn out with age. + +deeming (dem'mg), thinking. + +defaced (de-fast'), disfigured, marred. + +defer (de-fur'), postpone; yield to the wishes of another. + +deference (def'er-ens), respect. + +defiance (de-fi'ans), disposition to resist. + +defile (de-fil'), pass between hills. + +deflower (de-flou'er), deprive of flowers; take away the beauty of. + +defy (de-fi'), dare. + +degenerate (de-jen'er-at), grow worse or meaner. + +deities (de'i-tiz), heathen gods. + +delegate (del'e-gat), send as one's representative. + +deliberate (de-lib'er-at), not hasty; (de-lib'er-at), weigh in one's mind. + +delineate (de-lin'e-at), represent by sketch; describe. + +delirious (de-lir'i-us), wild with feeling. + +Delos (de'los), the smallest island of the Cyclades, according to legend +originally a floating island and the birthplace of Apollo. + +deluge (del'uj), flood. + +delusion (de-lu'zhun), deception for want of knowledge. + +delusive (de-lu'siv), deceptive. + +demeanor (de-men'er), behavior. + +demon (de'mon), evil spirit. + +demoniac (de-mo'ni-ak), like a demon. + +denotement (de-not'ment), sign or indication. + +deplorably (de-plor'a-bli), grievously. + +depositories (de-poz'i-to-riz), place where anything is stored for keeping. + +depravity (de-prav'i-ti), corruption, wickedness. + +derision (de-rizh'un), insult. + +descent (de-sent'), a passing downward. + +descried (de-skrid'), saw, beheld. + +desert (dez'ert), solitary; empty. + +designate (des'ig-nat), point out. + +desist (de-zist'), stop. + +desolateness (des'e-lat-nes), state of being desolate or lonely. + +despair (de-spar'), give up hope. + +desperate (des'per-at), hopeless, reckless. + +despicable (des'pi-ka-b'l), fit to be despised; mean. + +despondent (de-spon'dent), low spirited. + +despotism (des'pot-iz'm), tyranny. + +destined (des'tind), marked out. + +destiny (des'ti-ni), doom, fate. + +detained (de-tand'), kept back or from; delayed. + +detract (de-trakt'), take away. + +detractor (de-trak'ter), one who slanders. + +deviate (de'vi-at), go put of the way. + +device (de-vis'), design; invention. + +devious (de'vi-us), wandering. + +devoid (de-void'), destitute. + +devotee (dev'o-te'), one wholly devoted. + +devoutly (de-vout'li), earnestly. + +dexterity (deks-ter'i-ti), skill. + +dexterous (deks'ter-us), skillful, artful. + +diffuse (di-fuz'), spread. + +dight (dit), adorn. + +dignities (dig-'ni-tiz), honors. + +dike (dik), embankment to prevent flooding. + +diligence (dil'i-jens), industry. + +dinning (din'ing), incessant talking. + +"dire-struck," struck with terror. + +dirge (durj), funeral hymn. + +discern (di-zurn'), see, detect. + +discipline (dis'i-plin), training; punishment. + +disconsolate (dis-kon'so-lat), sorrowful, comfortless. + +discordant (dis-kor'dant), not harmonious. + +discountenance (dis-koun'te-nans), not approve of; discourage. + +discourse (dis-kors'), conversation. + +discredit (dis-kred'it), disbelief. + +disembogue (dis'em-bog'), discharge; flow out. + +disguise (dis-giz'), change the appearance of. + +dismember (dis-mem'ber), disjoint. + +disperse (dis-purs'), scatter. + +disputation (dis'pu-ta'shun), dispute, a reasoning on opposite sides. + +disqualify (dis-kwol'i-fi), render unfit. + +dissever (di-sev'er), part in two. + +dissolution (dis'o-lu'shun), separating into parts. + +dissonant (dis'o-nant), sounding harshly, discordant. + +distaff (dis'taf), a staff holding a bunch of flax, tow, or wool, from +which thread is spun by hand. + +distended (dis-tend'ed), lengthened out. + +distorted (dis-tort'ed), twisted, wrested. + +ditto (dit'o), exact copy. + +diverge (di-vurj'), extend from a common point in different directions. + +divers (di'verz), several, different. + +divert (di-vurt'), turn aside. + +divest (di-vest'), deprive; strip. + +divine (di-vin'), godlike; foretell. + +divinity (di-vin'i-ty), deity, God. + +docile (dos'il), easily managed. + +doctrine (dok'trin), principle of faith. + +doff (dof), put off (dress). + +doling (dol'n'g), giving out scantily or grudgingly. + +domestic (do-mes'tik), pertaining to one's home. + +domination (dom'i-na'shun), exercise of power in ruling; authority. + +dormer-window (dor'mer), a vertical window in a sloping roof. + +"double-reefed trysail," a sail reduced in extent doubly to adapt it to the +force of the wind. + +doublet (dub'let), a close-fitting coat, formerly worn. + +dower (dou'er), that with which one is gifted or endowed. + +drama (dra'ma), a picture of human life, especially for representation on +the stage. + +draught (draft), act of drinking. + +drawbridge, a bridge which may be raised or let down. + +"drink the cup," a biblical expression meaning endure. + +dross (dros), waste matter, dregs. + +Druids (droo'idz), ancient Celtic priests. + +dubious (du'bi-us), doubtful, questionable. + +dune (dun), a low hill of drifting sand. + +dynasty (di'nas-ti), sovereignty, dominion. + +ebony (eb'un-i), a hard wood capable of a fine polish; black + +ecstasy (ek'sta-si), a state of over-mastering feeling; height. + +eddy (ed'i), move in a circle; whirling. + +edifice (ed'i-fis), splendid building. + +effected (e-fekt'ed), accomplished, + +efficacious (ef'i-ka'shus), capable of producing a desired effect. + +efficacy (ef'i-ka-si), force. + +efficient (e-fish'ent), active, helpful. + +effulgence (e-ful'jens), great luster or brightness. + +eke (ek), also. + +election (e-lek'shun), choice + +elevation (el'e-va'shun), height. + +elfin (el'fin), relating to little elves or fairies. + +Elfland (elf'land), fairy land. + +Elijah (e-li'ja), II Kings, 2, 11. + +eloquence (el'o-kwens), effective speech. + +Ellwond, Thomas, a Quaker, who was a friend of Milton, and wrote a long +poem on King David. + +Elysian Fields (e-lizh'an), the fabled dwelling place of happy souls after +death. + +emancipation (e-man'si-pa'shun), freedom. + +embargo (em-bar'go), restraint + +embassy (em'ba-si), a solemn message. + +ember (em'ber), a lighted coal, smoldering amid ashes. + +emblazon (em-bla'z'n), illuminate, make light and beautiful. + +emblem (em'blem), visible sign of an idea. + +embosomed (em-booz'und), sheltered. + +embrasure (em-bra'zhur), a window having its sides slanted on the inside. + +emerge (e-murj'), appear. + +emergency (e-mur'jen-si), necessity. + +eminence (em'i-nens), height. + +eminently (em'i-nent-li), highly. + +emulation (em'u-la'shun), great desire to excel, + +enchantress (en-chan'tres), a wicked fairy, who weaves spells over her +victims. + +encomium (en-ko'mi-um), high praise. + +encompass (en-kum'pas), surround, + +encore (an-kor', an'kor), again; the same. + +encounter (en-koun'ter), a meeting face to face. + +encroach (en-kroch'), enter gradually into anothers rights. + +Encyclopaedia Britannica (en-si'klo-pe'di-a bri-tan'i-ka), a dictionary of +the arts, sciences, and literature. + +endeavor (en-dev'er), effort. + +endow (en-dou'), enrich. + +enervate (en'er-vat), weaken. + +enhance (en-hans'), increase. + +enjoin (en-join'), urge. + +enraptured (en-rap'turd), delighted beyond measure. + +ensign (en'sin), banner; national flag. + +entreaty (en-tret'i), an earnest request. + +envelop (en-vel'up), wrap in. + +epaulet (ep'o-let), a shoulder ornament worn by military and naval +officers, and indicating differences of rank. + +epic (ep'ik), an heroic poem. + +epicurism (ep'i-kur-iz'm), pleasures of the table. + +epitaph (ep'i-taf), inscription on a tomb. + +equip (e-kwip'), furnish or fit out. + +equity (ek'wi-ti), fairness, impartial justice. + +era (e'ra), a period of time. + +eradicate (e-rad'i-kat), destroy utterly. + +Erzeroum (erz'room'), the principal city of Turkish Armenia. + +Esk (esk), a river in Scotland flowing into the Solway Firth. + +espouse (es-pouz'), make one's own; marry. + +essay (e-sa'), try, + +essence (es'ens), substance. + +essential (e-sen'shal), indispensably necessary. + +estate (es-tat'), possession; wealth. + +estranged (es-tranjd'), indifferent. + +eternal (e-tur'nal), endless; perpetual. + +Eternal City, Rome. + +ether (e'ther), an extremely fine fluid, lighter than air, supposed to +pervade all space beyond the atmosphere of the earth. + +ethereal (e-the're-al), spiritlike; heavenly. + +Evan (e'van), + +Evangeline (e-van'je-len), the gentle Acadian maiden, and subject of the +poem. + +evangelists (e-van'jel-istz), writers of the gospels. + +evince (e-vins'), show clearly. + +ewe-necked (u'nekt'), having a thin, hollow neck. + +excess (ek-ses'), that which exceeds the ordinary limit, extravagance. + +exclusive (eks-kloo'siv), shutting out others. + +execration (ek'se-kra'shun), a cursing; + +execution (ek'se-ku'shun), carrying to effect. + +executive (eg-zek'u-tiv), a chief magistrate or officer who administers the +government; the governing person. + +exempt (eg-zempt'), free. + +exertion (eg-zur'shun), effort. + +exhausted (eg-zos'ted), tired out, wearied. + +exit (ek'sit), departure of a player from the stage after performing his +part. + +expanse (eks-pans'), extent, a continuous area. + +expedition (eks'pe-dish'un), excursion, voyage. + +expert (eks-purt'), skillful. + +expire (ek-spir'), die. + +explicit (eks-plis'it), distinctly stated, clear. + +expostulation (eks-pos'tu-la'shun), earnest reasoning or remonstrance. + +express (eks-pres'), exact, clear, + +exterior (eks-te'ri-er), outside. + +exterminate (eks-tur'mi-nat), drive away, root out. + +external (eks-tur'nal), outside, foreign. + +extract (eks'trakt), a selection; short part of a book or writing. + +extravagance (eks-trav'a-gans), want of moderation, lavishness. + +extremity (eks-trem'i-ti), greatest peril. + +extricate (eks'tri-kat), free. + +exult (eg-zult'), be in high spirits; triumph. + +facile (fas'il), ready. + +faculty (fak'ul-ti), mental power. + +fain (fan), willingly. + +fallow (fal'o), land plowed but not seeded. + +Faneuil Hall (fan'l), a building in Boston, Massachusetts, where +Revolutionary orators frequently addressed public meetings. + +fantastic (fan-tas'tik), grotesque; imaginary. + +"fatal sisters," this refers to the three Fates of Greek mythology, +"spinners of the thread of life." The first, Clotho, spins the thread of +life, the second, Lachesis, determines its length, and the third, Atropos, +cuts it. The Greek Fates have their counterpart in the Norse Norns. + +Fata Morgana (fa'ta mor-ga'na), a mirage at sea. The spectator on shore +sees images of men, houses, and ships, sometimes on the sea; so-called +because formerly regarded as the work of a fairy of this name. + +Father of Waters, a fanciful name given by the Indians to the Mississippi +River. + +fathom (fath'um), find the depth of; measure of length containing six feet. + +Fatigue (fa-teg'), weariness from labor or exertion. + +Federal (fed'er-al), a friend of the Constitution of the United States at +its adoption. + +feign (fan), pretend. + +feint (fant), pretense. + +Felician, Father (fe-lish'an), + +felicity (fe-lis'i-ti), happiness. + +fell (fel), a rocky hill. + +felloe (fel'o), the outside rim of a wheel supported by the spokes. + +felon (fel'un) one guilty of a crime. + +Fenwick (fen wik), a Scotch family. + +Feroe (fer'o), a group of islands in the North Sea between the Shetlands +and Iceland. + +fervently (fur'_vent-li), earnestly. + +festoons (fes-toonz'), green vines or leaves hanging in a curve, garlands. + +fettered (fet'erd), bound. + +feudal (fu'dal), the feudal ystem, by which the holding of land depended +upon rendering military service to the king or feudal lord during the +Middle Ages. + +filch (filch), steal. + +filial (fil'yal), dutiful as a child to his parent. + +film (film), a thin, slight covering. + +finance (fi-nans'), public money. + +"finny herd," a school of fish. + +firmament (fur'ma-ment), heavens. + +"fishing smack," a small sloop-rigged vessel used for fishing along the +coast. + +flag-bird, a poetic word for standard. + +flagon (flag'un), a vessel with a narrow mouth for holding liquor. + +flail (flal), a wooden instrument for threshing out grain by hand. + +"flame pennons," (flam-pen'un), swallow-tailed flags. + +flank (flank), the side of an animal, between the ribs and hip. + +flaunt (riant), display with pride or in a showy manner. + +Flemish (flem'ish), pertaining to Flanders, One of the provinces of +Belgium. A favorite subject of Flemish painters was the family group around +the fireside. + +Flimen (flim''n), + +floundering (floun'der-ing), tossing and tumbling. + +flurry (flur'i), hurry. + +flux (fluks), the setting in of the tide toward the shore. + +fondling (fond'ling), caressing. + +Fontaine quibout (fon-tan'ke-boo), + +Foolish Virgins, this refers to the parable of the Ten Virgins, Matthew 25; +1-13. + +foolscap (foolz'kap), long folio writing paper named from its watermark, +the fool's cap and bells. + +ford (ford), a place where water may be crossed on foot by wading. + +forebode (for-bod'), foretell despondingly. + +forfeit (for'fit), lose the right to a thing by some error or crime. + +formidable (for'mi-da-b'l), alarming, dangerous. + +Forsters (for'sterz), a Scotch family. + +Fortunate Isles, imaginary isles where the souls of the good are made +happy. + +foster (fos'ter), encourage; support + +fouled (fould), entangled. + +fowler (foul'er), one who hunts wild fowl. + +fragile (fraj'il), frail, weak. + +Franks, a Germanic people on the Rhine river, who afterward founded the +French monarchy. + +fraternal (fra-tur'nal), brotherly + +fraught (frot), mixed. + +frenzied (fren'zid), furious, wild. + +frequent (fre-kwent'), visit often. + +fret work (fret'wurk'), ornamental raised work, as carving. + +frigate (frig'ate), formerly a warship. + +Froissart (froi'sart), a celebrated French chronicler who wrote a history +of the fourteenth century. + +frontier (fron'ter), the boundary or limits of a country. + +frugal (froo'gal), thrifty. + +fudge (fuj), nonsense. + +"funeral pile," a pile of wood upon which the dead are burned. + +funereal (fu-ne're-al), mournful. + +furrows (fur'oz), wrinkles. + +fustian (fus'chan), See note + +futurity (fu-tu'ri-ti), time to come. + +Gabriel La jeunesse (ga'bri-el la-zhu-nes'), + +Galilee (gal'i-le), a lake in the northern province of Palestine. + +gall (gol), chafe, annoy. + +gallant (ga-lant'), a man attentive to ladies. In "Lochinvar" pronounced +gal'lant on account of meter. + +galliard (gal'yard), + +galligas'kins (gal'i-gas'kinz), loose hose; leather leg guards. + +gallows (gal'oz), guilty, ready to be executed. + +Gambia (gam'bi-a), an English colony in western Africa along the river +Gambia. "The chief of Gambia's golden shore" is a line in a school book, +"The American Preceptor," which was used when Whittier was a boy. + +gambol (gam'bol), a sportive prank; a frolic. + +gambrel-roofed (gam'brel), a curved roof. + +gaping (gap'ing), yawning. + +garrulous (gar'oo-lus), wordy; chattering. + +Gaspereau (gas-per-o'), a river in King's county, Nova Scotia, flowing into +the Basin of Minas. + +Gates of Hercules (hur'ku-lez), the Strait of Gibraltar. + +gauge (gaj), estimate; a measure. + +gauger (gaj'er), an officer, whose business it is to find the contents of +casks. + +gauntlet (gant'let), a long glove covering the wrist. + +genial (je'ni-al; jen'yal), cheerful, kindly. + +genie (je'ni), a good or evil spirit. Pl. genii. + +genius (jen'yus), one who has high mental powers. + +Gentile (jen'tll), one who is not a Jew. + +geometric (je'e-met'trik), referring to the figures used in geometry, the +branch of mathematics which treats of the measurement of lines, angles, +surfaces, and solids. + +Georgius Secundus (jor'jus sek-und'us), George the Second, king of Great +Britain. + +germinate (jur'mi nat), bud, sprout. + +gesture (jes'tur), a movement of the face, body, or limbs to express ideas. + +Ghent (gent), capital of province of east Flanders, Belgium. + +ghoul (gool), an oriental demon, supposed to feed upon dead human bodies. +In "The Bells" pronounced gol on account of rhyme. + +gigantic (ji-gan-tik), large. + +gill (gil), a deep narrow valley through which a river flows. + +glade (glad), a cleared space in a forest. + +gladiator (glad'i-a'ter), in ancient Rome a swordsman who fought in the +arena with other men or animals. + +glebe (gleb), turf, sod. + +gleed (gled), a burning coal. + +gloaming (glom'ing), twilight. + +gloat (glot), stare or gaze earnestly often with a feeling of cruelty. + +Glynn (glin), a county in southeastern Georgia. + +goad (god), a pointed instrument to urge on a beast. + +gorgeous (gor'jus), showy, magnificent. + +gory (gor'i), bloody. + +gowd (god: good), the Scotch name for gold. + +Graemes (gramz), the name of a Scotch clan, sometimes spelled Graham. + +grampus (gram'pus), a large toothed fish, valued for its oil. + +granary (gran'a-ri), a storehouse for grain. + +grandeur (gran'dur), majesty, loftiness. + +Grand Pre' (gran-pra'), a village in King's county, Nova Scotia. The woll +means "great meadow." + +grapple (grap'l), seize. + +grave (grav), cut letters or figures on a hard substance with a chisel. + +grayling (gray'ling), a fish somewhat like a trout. + +Great Harry, the name of a ship. + +grenadier (gren'a-der'), in olden times a soldier armed with grenades, iron +shells filled with powder and thrown among the enemy. The word is now +applied to a member of the Grenadier Guards. + +Greve (grav), + +grewsome (groo'sum), frightful. + +groat (grot), an old English silver coin worth four pence. + +groin (groin), bring together in a curve. + +guaranty (gar'an-ti), security. + +guid (giid), + +guinea stamp (gin'i), the mark or impress upon a guinea-an old English coin +worth about five dollars. + +guise (giz), shape; cloak. + +gundalow (gun'da-le), another form for gondola (gon'do-la). + +gyratory (ji'ra-te-ri), winding, whirling around a central point. + +Habersham (hab'er-sham), a county in northeast Georgia. The Chattahoochee +rises in this county. + +habit (hab'it), a garment; behavior, + +Hagar (ha'gar), See Genesis 21, 14-21. + +hake-broil (hak-broil), a seafish like the cod, cooked over a beach fire. + +Half-Moon, name of a boat on which Henry Hudson entered New York bay and +explored the Hudson river. + +Hall, a county in northern Georgia intersected by the Chattahoochee river. + +halloo (ha-loo'), call. + +hallow (hal'e), consecrate, make holy. + +Hampton Falls (hamp'tun), a town in Rockingham county, New Hampshire, seven +miles north of Newburyport, Massachusetts. + +hapless (hap'les), unfortunate. + +Hapsburg (haps'burg), a princely German family to which Maria Louise, wife +of Napoleon, belonged. + +harangue (ha-rang'), an address or speech to a crowd. + +harbinger (har'bm-jer), a forerunner; usher in. + +harem (ha'rem), a family of wives belonging to one man. + +harpy (har'pi), one of the three daughters of Neptune and Terra, having a +woman's face and body and sharp claws like a vulture; a buzzard. + +Hasselt (has'elt), a town in Belgium. haunch (hanch), the hip, part of body +between the ribs and thigh. + +Haverhill (ha'ver-il), city in Essex county, Massachusetts. + +hazard (haz'ard), chance; danger, risk. + +heather (heth'er), a small, evergreen flowering shrub with rose-colored +flowers native to Scotland and northern Europe. + +heave (hev), force from the breast, as a sigh. + +Hebrides (heb'ri-dez), islands off the western coast of Scotland. + +Helicon (hel'i-kon), a famous mountain in Greece. + +Helseggen (hel-seg 'n), + +helter-skelter (hel'ter-skel'ter), in hurry and confusion. + +henpecked (hen'pekt'), governed by one's wife. + +herald (her'ald), usher in; announce. + +herbage (ur'baj; hur'baj), grass, pasture. + +hereditary (he-red'i-ta-ri), passing from an ancestor to a descendant. + +Hermes (hur'mez), an ancient Egyptian wiseman, "the scribe of the gods," +who interpreted the truth of the gods to the people. In Greek mythology, +the messenger of the gods. + +hermit (hur'mit), one who has retired from society and lives in solitude. + +hern (hern), short form for heron, a water bird. + +Herve Riel (hur-va're-el') + +hilarious (hi-la'ri-us), noisy; merry. + +hilt (hilt), the handle of a sword. + +Hindostan (hin'doo-stan), the central peninsula of Asia. + +hoary (hor'i), gray with age. + +Hoeyholm (ho'a-hom) + +Hogue (hog), See note. + +hold (hold), a castle, stronghold. + +hollas (ho-loz'), calls out. + +holster (hol'ster), a horseman's case for a pistol. + +Holy Grail (ho'li gral), the cup or bowl from which Christ drank at the +Last Supper. + +Holy Supper, Christ's last supper with His disciples. + +horde (hord), a wandering tribe; a vast multitude. + +hospitality (hos'pi-tal'i-ti), the practice of entertaining friends and +strangers with kindness. + +hostage (hos'taj), a person who remains in the hands of another for the +fulfilment of certain conditions; pledge. + +housings (houz'ingz), pl. trappings; a cover for a horse's saddle. + +hover (huv'er), hang fluttering in the air. + +Huddup (hu-dup'), a New England interjection addressed to a horse meaning +"Get along." + +hue (hu), color; "hue and cry," a loud outcry with which thieves were +anciently pursued. + +Huguenot (hu'ge-not), a French Protestant of the sixteenth century. + +hurry-skurry (hur'ri-skur'ri), confused bustle. + +husbandman (huz'band-man), a tiller of the soil, a farmer. + +Hydra (hi'dra), in classical mytholology, the water serpent with nine heads +slain by Hercules: each head, on being cut off, became two. + +Hymeneal (hi'me-ne'al), referring to marriage; from Hymen, the Greek god of +marriage. + +hypothesis (hi-poth'e-sis), something not proved, but taken for granted for +the purpose of argument. + +hyssop (his'up), a fragrant plant whose leaves have a strong taste. + +Ibrahim (e'bra-hem), the Arabic for Abraham. + +ideal (i-de'al), an imaginary standard of perfection; faultless. + +identity (i-den'ti-ti), sameness, the being the same. + +"I dew vum," a mild New England oath, "I do vow." + +idyl (i-dil), a short poem describing country life. + +Iflesen (ef-la'sen) + +ignoble (ig-no'b'l), not noble, low. + +ignominy (ig'no-min-i), dishonor. + +Illah (e'la), the Arabic for "the God." "La illah illa Allah" means "Allah +is the God." + +illconcerted (il-kon-sur'ted), poorly-planned and executed. + +illimitable (i-lim'it-a-b'l), vast, immeasurable. + +illuminate (i-lu'mi-nat), brighten with light. + +illusion (i-lu'zhun), an unreality. + +imbibe (im-bib'), receive, absorb. + +imbue (im-bu'), tinge deeply. + +immemorial (im'e-mo'ri-al), extending beyond reach of memory or record. + +immortal (i-mor'tal), lasting forever. + +immutable (i-mu'ta-b'l), unchangeable. + +impede (im-ped'), hinder. + +impediment (im-ped'i-ment), hindrance. + +impel (im-pel'), urge on, drive. + +impending (im-pend'ing), overhanging, threatening. + +impenetrable (im-pen'e-tra-b'l), cannot be entered. + +imperceptible (im'per-sep'ti-b'l), not easily seen or noticed. + +imperious (im-pe'ri-us), haughty, kingly. + +impetuous (im-pet'u-us), rushing violently; hasty. + +implacable (im-pla'ka-b'l), not to be pacified; unforgiving. + +importtune (im'por-tun'), urge constantly. + +imposition (im'po'-zish'un), deceit; fraud. + +imposture (im-pos'tur), cheat; trick. + +imprecation (im'pre-ka'shun), a curse; an evil wish. + +impulse (im'puls), a mental force directly urging to action. + +impunity (im-pu'ni-ti), freedom from punishment or injury. + +inanimate (in-an'i-mat), without life. + +inarticulate (in'ar-tik'u-lat), without voice, indistinct. + +incantation (in'kan-ta'shun), a magical charm said or sung. + +incessant (in-ses'ant), continuing without interruption. + +incident (in'si-dent), event. + +incident to, in connection with. + +inclement (in-klem'ent), severe; stormy. + +incompetent (in-kom'pe-tent), unfit; incapable. + +incomprehensible (in-kom'pre-hen'si-b'l), cannot be understood. + +incongruous (in-kon'grob-us), unsuitable, unfit. + +incredible (in-kred'i-b'l), hard to believe. + +inculcate (in-kul'kat), teach; instill. + +Ind (ind), short form for India. + +indefinable (in'de-fin'a-b'l), cannot be described. + +independent (in'de-pen'dent), free; self-reliant. + +indiscreet (in'dis-kret'), foolish. + +indispensable (in'dis-pen'sa-b'l), absolutely necessary. + +induced (in-dust'), caused, lead into. + +indulgence (in-dul'jens), a favor granted. + +inevitable (in-ev'i-ta-b'l), certain, unavoidable. + +inexhaustible (in'eg-zos'ti-b'l), cannot be emptied; unfailing. + +infidel (in'fi-del), an unbeliever. + +infinite (in'fi-nit), immeasurable, perfect. + +infraction (in-frak'shun), a breaking, especially of the law. + +infuse (in-fuz'), pour into, shed. + +ingredient (in-gre'di-ent), a part of a mixture. + +inhale (in-hal'), draw into the lungs. + +inherent (in-her'ent), inborn, natural. + +innovation (in'e-va'shun), something new or contrary to custom. + +innumerable (i-nu'mer-a-b'l), cannot be numbered. + +inscrutable (in-skroo'ta-b'l), not able to be understood. + +insidious (in-sid'i-us), sly, deceitful. + +insolence (in'so-lens), impudence. + +inspire (in-spir'), to fill with hope. + +instance (in'stans), + +instill (in-stil'), bring to mind, + +insulated (in'su-latf ed), separated. + +insuperable (in-su'per-a-b'l), cannot be overcome. + +insurmountable (in'sur-moun'ta-b'l), impassable. + +intact (in-takt'), untouched; whole + +integrity (in-teg'ri-ti), honesty. + +intelligence (in-tel'i-jens), news, + +intercourse (in'ter-kors), interchange of thought and feeling; trade. + +interminably (in-tur'mi-na-bli), endlessly. + +internal (in-tur'nal), inland; inside. + +interpose (in-ter-poz'), place between. + +interpret (in-tur'pret), tell the meaning of. + +interrogatory (in'te-rog'a-to-ri), a question. + +interval (in'ter-val), a space of time between any two events. + +interview (in'ter-vu), a meeting face to face. + +intolerable (in-tol'er-a-b'l), not capable of being endured. + +intricate (in'tri-kat), entangled. + +intrigue (in-treg'), a plot or conspiracy. + +intruder (in-trood'er), one who enters without invitation. + +inundate (in'un-dat), cover with a flood. + +inured (in-urd'), accustomed. + +invade (in-vad'), enter for conquest or plunder. + +invariably (in-va'ri-a-bli), constantly. + +inventory (in'ven-to-ri), catalogue or list of goods, furniture, etc., with +cost attached. + +invigorate (in-vig'or-at), refresh, give life to. + +invincible (in-vin'si-b'l), not able to be overcome or conquered. + +inviolate (in-vl'e-lat), uninjured. + +involuntarily (in-vorun-ta-ri-li), not under control of the will; +unwillingly. + +irascible (i-ras'i-b'l; i-ras'), easily angered. + +ire (ir), anger. + +irised (i'rist), having beautiful colors, like the rainbow. + +irksome (urk'sum), tedious, tiresome. + +irrational (i-rash'un-al), without reason. + +Ishmael (ish'ma-el), Genesis 21.14-21. + +"Islands of the Blest," mythical islands supposed to be in the Western +Ocean where the favorites of the gods were conveyed at death and dwelt in +ever-lasting joy. + +Islington (iz'ling-tun), a district in the north of London. + +Israel (iz'ra-el), the descendants of Israel, or Jacob. + +"I wis" (i-wis'), surely, certainly. + +jackanapes', a short form of "Jack of Apes," an impertinent fellow. + +Jacob's Ladder (ja'kub), Genesis 28, 12. + +jaded (jad'eti), tired by overwork. + +jargon (jar'gon), a confused, unintelligible language. + +jerkin (jur'kin), a jacket or short coat. + +Jerusalem (je-roo'sa-lem), the capital of the Jewish people. + +Jesuit (jez'u-it), one of a Roman Catholic religious order called "The +Society of Jesus," founded by Ignatius Loyola in 1543. + +Joab (jo'ab), the "captain of the host" of the army during nearly the whole +of David's reign. + +jocund (jok'und), merry, gay. + +Johns Hopkins University, a university in Baltimore, Maryland. + +Joris (jor'is), the Flemish word for George. + +journalistic (jur'nal-is'tik), referring to journalism, newspaper, or +magazine articles. + +Jove (jov), the short form for Jupiter. + +jovial (jo'vi-al), merry, jolly. + +Jugurtha (joo-gur'tha), + +junto (jun'to), a secret council to talk over affairs of government. + +Jupiter (joo'pi-ter), in Roman mythology, the supreme god of heaven. In +Greek mythology, known as Zeus. + +justification (jus'ti-fi-ka'shun), defense; support by proof. + +Kaatskill (kats'kil), a group of mountains of the Appalachian system in New +York state. + +Kalevala (ka'la-va'la), "The land of heroes," the title of the national +epic of Finland. + +keel (kel), the lowest timber of a vessel, to which the ribs are attached. + +keelson (kel'sun), a beam laid on the middle of the floor timbers over the +keel to strengthen it. + +kelp (kelp), a large, coarse seaweed. + +ken (ken), knowledge, + +khan (kan; kan), an Asiatic prince; an Eastern inn. + +Kieldholm (keld'hom), + +kine (kin), cattle. + +King Arthur, a mythical British king, founder of the Knights of the Round +Table, made famous in Tennyson's "Idylls of the King." + +kinsman (kmz'man), a relative. + +kirtle (kur't'l), a garment. + +"kith and kin," friends and relatives. + +knarred (nard), the poetic form of gnarled, knotted. + +Knickerbocker Dietrich (nik'er-bok'er de'trik), + +knoll (nol), a little, round hill. + +Koordistan (koor'di-stan), a region of western Asia, mostly in Turkey, but +partly in Persia. + +Kurroglou (koor'e-glou), + +Kyrat (ke'rat), + +lacklustre (lak'lus'ter), wanting brightness. + +lade (lad), draw water; put load on or in. + +lading (lad'ing), that which makes a load or cargo. + +laggard (lag'ard), a slow person. + +lagoon (la-goon'), a shallow channel or lake. + +lamentably (lam'en-ta-bli), sadly. + +lance (lans), a long spear carried by a horseman. + +languor (lan'ger), a state of mind or body caused by exhaustion, weariness. + +Lanier, Sydney (la-ner'), + +Lannes (Ian), one of Napoleon's generals. + +lapse (laps), a passing away slowly. + +larboard (lar'bord), the left-hand side of a ship to one on board facing +the bow, port. + +Lascar (las'kar), a native sailor or cooly of India. + +lashing (lash'ing), cord; strike quickly or cut. + +Latin (lat'in) Latium, a country of Italy in which Rome was situated, hence +Roman, the language of the ancient Romans. + +latticed window (lat'ist), crossed open work of wood or metal, forming a +window. + +laureate (le're-it), the English court poet. + +laurel (le'rel), an evergreen shrub having sweet-smelling leaves, + +Laurens (lo'rens), the name of an old southern family. John and Henry +Laurens are famous statesmen of Revolutionary times. + +laving (lav'ing), bathing. + +lavish (lav'ish), extravagant. + +lay (la), song. + +lea (le), a grassy field. + +league (leg), a measure of distance equal to about three miles. + +leaguer (le'ger), a camp. + +Lebanon (leb'a-non), a mountain range in Syria. + +"Le Carillon de Dunkerque" (le kar'i-lon-de-dun'kurk), a popular song, the +tune of which was played on the Dunkirk chimes. + +ledger (lej'er), the principal account book of a business firm. + +lee (le), the calm, sheltered side. + +legacy (leg'a-si), a gift, by will, of money or property. + +legend (lej'end), a wonderful story of the past having no historical proof. + +legibly (lej'i-bli), plainly + +Lentulus (len'tu-lus), a Roman politician who lived in the first century, +B. C. + +leper (lep'er), one afflicted with leprosy. + +leprosy (lep'ro-si), a loathsome skin disease. + +Letiche (la-tesh'), + +Leuctra (luk'tra), a Spartan pass. + +levee (lev'e), a morning reception held by a person of rank. + +leviathan (le-vi'a-than), a large water animal described in the Book of +Job, hence anything huge. + +levy (lev'i), collect troops by authority. + +liberal (lib'er-al), wide, spacious. + +licentious (li-sen'shus), unrestrained, both morally and legally. + +lieutenant (lu-ten'ant), an officer ranking just below a captain in the +army and a commander in the navy. + +Lilinau (lil'i-no'), + +limner (lim'ner), a painter who illumines books or parchments. + +linchpin (linch'pin'), the pin which goes through the end of the axle of a +wheel and keeps it in place. + +lineage (lin'e-aj), family. + +linendraper (lin'en-dra'per), one who deals in linen. + +list (list), will. pl. n. an enclosing for a tournament. + +listlessly (list'les-li), in an indifferent manner. + +literature (lit'er-a-tur), the written or printed literary productions of a +country or period of time. + +lithe (lith), easily bent, pliable. + +livery (liv'er-i), a uniform. + +loath (loth), unwilling. + +local (lo'kal), belonging to a particular place. + +Lochiel (lok-el'), + +Lodore (lo-dor'), a cataract in the Derwent river in England. + +Lofoden (lo-fo'den), a group of islands off the coast of northern Norway. + +logical (loj'i-kal), according to reason. + +Lokeren (lo'ker-en), a town in Belgium. + +loon (loon), a northern web-footed water bird whose note sounds like a +laugh. + +looping (loop'ing), fold. + +loose (loos), unbind. + +Looz (looz), a town in Belgium. + +lore (lor), knowledge. + +Loupgaroo (loo'ga'roo'), meaning a "Were-wolf," a person who, according to +the superstition of the Middle Ages, became a wolf in order to devour +children. + +Lucifer (lu'si-fer), + +luminous (lu'mi-nus), giving out light. + +lure (lur), anything used as an enticement; entice. + +lusty (lus'ti), healthy, vigorous. + +luxuriant (luks-u'ri-ant), very abundant. + +lyceum (li-se'um), originally the grove at Athens where Aristotle taught; +an academy. + +Maelstroem (mal'strom), a whirlpool on the coast of Norway. + +magnanimous (mag-nan'i-mus) great of mind; heroic. + +magpie (mag'pi), a chattering bird belonging to the crow family. + +main (man), ocean, + +Mainote (mi'not), Maina was the gathering place for the Greek troops who, +under the Greek general, Ypsilanti, fought for Greek independence. + +maintop (man'top'), a platform at the head of the main-mast of a +square-rigged vessel. + +malice (mal'is), wicked intention to injure others. + +malleable (mal'e-a-b'l), capable of being shaped by beating or by pressure. + +mallow (mal'o), a weed. + +Malo (ma'lo), + +Malouins (mal'e-wins), + +Malta (mol'ta), a rocky fortified island belonging to Great Britain, and +situated in the Mediterranean Sea south of Sicily. + +manacles (man'a-k'lz), chains for the hand or wrist. + +mandate (man'dat), command. + +manifest (man'i-fest), known. + +manifestation (man'i-fes-ta'shun), sign. + +manifold (man'i-fold), many in number. + +manoeuvre (ma-noo'ver), a skillful movement with a certain aim or plan. + +manor (man'er), a district over which a feudal lord ruled subject to the +commands of his court-baron or lord. + +"mantling blush," color or glow of youth spreading over the face. + +manual (man'u-al), made or performed by the hand. + +Marathon (mar'-a-thon), a plain in Greece 18 miles northeast of Athens, the +scene of a famous battle between the Greeks and the Persians. + +marauders (ma-rod'erz), rovers in search of plunder. + +Mare Ten'ebra'rum (mar ten'e-bra'-rum), Latin words meaning "sea of +darkness." + +marge (marj), poetic form for margin or edge. + +Marion (mar'i-on), the name of an old southern family, to which Francis +Marion, a Revolutionary general, belonged. + +Marmion (mar'mi-on), + +marquis (mar'kwis), a nobleman of England, France, and Germany next in rank +below a duke. + +marshal (mar'shal), direct or lead; in the French army, the highest +military officer. + +mart (mart), short form for market. + +martial (mar'shal), suited for war. + +marveled (mar'veld), to be astonished. + +maternal (ma-tur'nal), motherly. + +mathematical (math'e-mat'i-kal), precise. + +matin (mat'in), morning worship, prayers or songs. + +Matterhorn (mat'er-horn), a high mountain peak in the Swiss Alps. + +maxim (mak'sim), a true saying, proverb. + +McGregor (mak-greg'er), a Scotch nobleman who tried to establish a colony +in Porto Rico. + +meager (me'ger), scanty, poor. + +Mecheln (mek'lin), a town in Belgium. + +Medford (med'ferd), a small town near Boston, Massachusetts. + +mediaeval (me'di-e'val; med'i), belonging to the Middle Ages, eighth to +fifteenth centuries, A. D. + +meditate (med'i-tat), muse or ponder. + +medium (me'di-um), substance. + +meet (met), fit. + +melancholy (mel'an-kol-i), gloomy. + +Melita (mel'i-ta), an island, where the apostle Paul, a prisoner on the way +to Rome, was shipwrecked, modern Malta. + +mellow (mel'o), softened by years; tender. + +memento (me-men'to), a hint or relic to awaken memory. + +Memphremagog (mem'fre-ma'gog), a lake on the border of Vermont and Canada. + +menace (men'as), threaten, danger. + +mendicant (men'di-kant), practicing beggary. + +Mersey (mur'zi), a river in England, on which Liverpool is situated. + +metamorphose (met'a-mor'foz), change into a different form. + +mete (met), measure; limit. + +methinks (me-thinks'), it seems to me. + +mewling (mul'mg), + +mickle (mik'l), much, great. + +Midas (mi'das), a king, in fable, whose touch turned things to gold. + +mien (men), outward appearance or look. + +militia (mi-lish'a), the whole military force of a nation; citizens +enrolled and trained for the protection of a state. + +Miller, Joaquin' (mil'er wa-ken'), + +Miltiades (mil-ti'a-dez), commander of the Athenian army who conquered the +Persians at Marathon. + +mimosa (mi-mo'sa), plants with pods including the sensitive plants. + +Minas, Basin of (mi-nas), a bay in the northwestern part of the Bay of +Fundy. + +miniature (min'i-a-tur), done on a very small scale. + +minion (min'yun), a flattering servant or dependent. + +miraculous (mi-rak'u-lus), wonderful. + +mirage (me-razh'), an illusion of the eye by which objects like ships at +sea are seen inverted or oases appear to travelers in the desert. + +miscalculation (mis-kal'ku-la'-shun), a wrong judgment. + +missal (mis'al), a mass-book. + +mitigate (mit'i-gat), make less severe or painful. + +mitigation (mit'i-ga'shun), relief; lessening. + +moccasin (mok'a-sin), a shoe made of soft leather worn by the American +Indian. + +mockery (mok'er-i), imitating reality, but not real; sham. + +mode (mod), manner of doing or being; custom. + +Mohawk (mo'hok), a tribe of Indians. + +molder (mol'der), turn into dust by natural decay. + +moment (mo'ment), importance; consequence, + +monody (mon'e-di), a mournful poem or song for one voice. + +monograph (mon'o-graf), a paper written on one particular subject or on +some branch of it. + +monopoly (mo-nop'o-li), possession of the whole of anything. + +monotone (mon'o-ton), a single unvaried tone or sound. + +monotony (mo-not'o-ni), a tiresome sameness. + +Montcalm (mont-kam'), an officer commanding the French troops at Quebec. + +moorings (mobr'ingz), the place where a vessel is anchored. + +moorland (moor'land), a waste land covered with patches of heather, a low +shrub. + +moraler (mor'al-er), + +Moravian (mo-ra'vi-an), one of a sect called United Brethren, organized in +Moravia in the fifteenth century. + +Moskoe (mos'ko), Probably Poe had in mind the Mos'kenaso island. + +Moslem (moz'lem; mos), + +motive (mo'tiv), the reason for actions. + +motley-braided (mot'li-brad'ed), interlaced with many colors. + +mouldering (mol'der-ing), crumbling. + +multitudinous (mul'tl-tu'di-nus), numerous. + +Muse (muz), the goddess who is supposed to inspire poets. + +muse (muz), think. + +Musgraves (mus'gravz), a clan or family of Scotland. + +Mussulmans (mus'ul-manz), Mohammedans, The "tottering bridge which +Mussulmans say is the only pathway between Time and Eternity" is the bridge +which extends over hell and which has been described as being "finer than a +hair and sharper than the edge of a sword." + +muster (mus'ter), the gathering of troops or ships for war. + +mutation (mu-ta'shun), change. + +mutiny (mu'ti-ni), a revolt against one's superior officers or any rightful +authority, especially applied to sailors or soldiers. + +mutual (mu'tu-al), having something in common. + +Mystic (mis'tik), a river in Massachusetts. + +naiad (na'yad; ni'ad), a water nymph, fabled to preside over some lake, +river, brook, or fountain. + +necromancer (nek'ro-man'ser), one who foretells future events by pretending +to communicate with the dead. + +nectar (nek'tar), in Greek mythology, the divine wine of the gods served in +golden drinking-cups by Hebe, the goddess of Youth. + +nepenthe (ne-pen'the), a drug supposed, by the ancient Greeks, to have the +power of causing forgetfulness of sorrow. + +Netherby (neth'er-bi), the name of a Scotch family or clan. + +niche (nich), a hollow, generally within the thickness of a wall, for a +statue or other erect ornament. + +night-tide, night-time. + +Nilus (nil'us), the Latin word for Nile. + +"Nine," referring to the nine Muses of Greek mythology, goddesses of Song, +Dance, Music, and Poetry, companions of Apollo, who, in their light flowing +draperies, danced and sang on Olympus. + +nine-pins (nin'pinz), a game played with ninepins or pieces of wood set on +end at which a wooden ball is bowled to knock them down. + +Nineveh (nin'e-ve), the famous capital of the Assyrian empire, which was +entirely destroyed in the fall of the empire. + +Normandy (nor'man-di), an ancient province of France occupied by the +Northmen or Normans during their invasion. + +Norn-Mother (norn), in Norse mythology, the Norns corresponded to the Fates +in Greek myths. + +notary (no'ta-ri), a public officer who examines legal papers to make +certain that they are genuine or true and sets the seal of his office upon +the same. + +Nubian geographer (nu'bi-an je-og'ra-fer), Poe, in all probability, refers +to the African geographer, Ptolemy. 150 A. D. + +nullification (nul'i-fi-ka'shun), an act giving the State the right to +cancel a law of Congress. + +Numidian lion (nu-mid'i-an), the fierce animals which attacked the +gladiators in the arena were brought from Numidia, a country in northern +Africa. + +nurtured (nur'turd), nourished, trained. + +nymph (nimf), a goddess presiding over mountains, forests, meadows, or +waters. + +obeisance (e-ba'sans; e-be'), a sign of respect; a bow. + +obligatory (ob'li-ga-to-ri; ob-lig'-a-to-ri), required, binding in law or +conscience. + +obliquely (ob-lek'li), in a slanting manner. + +oblivion (eb-liv'i-un), a forgetting or being forgotten. + +obloquy (ob'lo-kwi), slander, reproach. + +obsequious (ob-se'kwi-us), promptly obedient to the will of others; +cringing. + +obstacle (ob'sta-k'l), a hindrance. + +occult (o-kult'), secret. + +ode (od), a short poem, which might be sung. + +odorous (o'der-us), fragrant. + +offenceless (o-fens'les), harmless. + +offing (of'ing), that part of the sea where there is deep water and no need +of a pilot. + +Olympus (o-lim'pus), a mountain in Thessaly, fabled as the home of the +gods. + +ominous (om'i-nus), foreboding evil. + +omnipotent (om-nip'e-tent), all powerful. + +Opelou'sas (op'e-loo'sas), an early settlement in south central Louisiana. + +opponent (o-po'nent), foe. + +opposed (o-pozd'), enemy, + +oppressive (o-pres'iv), heavy, burdensome. + +oracular (e-rak'u-lar), like oracles or answers of the gods to questions +about future events. + +orb (orb), a poetical word for sun, moon, or star. + +Oregon (or'e-go-n), a name by which the Columbia river was first known. + +Ormus (or'mus), an ancient Persian city, noted for its wealth. + +Othello (e-thel'o), a Moorish general in the service of the Venetians. + +Otterholm (ot'er-hom), + +overture (e'ver-tur), an offer + +Owyhee (e-wi'he), a river in northern Nevada. + +paean (pe'an), a song of triumph. + +pageant (paj'ent; pa'jent), spectacular exhibition or display. + +palimpsest (pal'imp-sest), a parchment written upon twice, the first +writing having been erased. + +pall (pol), a black cloth thrown over a coffin at a funeral. + +palladium (pa-la'di-um), the statue of Pallas, on the preservation of which +depended the safety of Troy, hence an effectual safeguard. + +Pallas (pal'as), Pallas Athene, the Grecian goddess of Wisdom, called also +Athene, and identified at a later period with the Roman Minerva. + +pallet (pal'et), a small and mean bed. + +pallid (pal'id), wan. + +palpable (pal'pa-b'l), capable of being touched and felt; plain, evident. + +palpitate (pal'pi-tat), beat rapidly and strongly. + +paltry' (pol'tri), small, worthless, trifling. + +panorama (pan'e-ra'ma), a complete view in every direction. + +pantomime (pan'to-mim), a dramatic representation by actors who use only +dumb show. + +paragon (par'a-gon), a model pattern of perfection. + +parchment (parch'ment), skin of sheep or goat, etc., prepared for writing. + +pard (pard), a leopard. + +parricide (par'i-sid), one who murders his own father, or any ancestor. + +participate (par-tis'i-pat), have a share in common with others; to take +part. + +particularize (par-tik'u-lar-iz), to state in detail. + +Pascagoula (pas'ka-goo'la), a river in Mississippi flowing into the Gulf of +Mexico. + +patriarch (pa'tri-ark), Father and ruler of a family; a venerable old man. + +patrician (pa-trish'an), one of high birth; a nobleman. + +patricide (pat'ri-sid), murder of one's father; the crime of murdering +one's father. + +patrimonial (pat'ri-mo'ni-al), inherited from an ancestor. + +pavilion (pa-vil'yun), a tent, a large temporary building. + +peasant (pez'ant), tiller of the soil in European countries. + +peasantry (pez'ant-ri), peasants, collectively. + +pedagogue (ped'a-gog), teacher of children; a schoolmaster. + +pedantry (ped'ant-ri), vain display of learning. + +pedigree (ped'i-gre), a line of ancestors; descent. + +peer (per), one of the same rank; an equal; member of the British nobility. + +pellicle (pel'i-k'l), a crystallized film. + +pell-mell (pel'-mel'), in utter confusion. + +pendent (pen'dent), something which hangs, depends, or is suspended. + +penetrate (pen'e-trat), enter into: understand. + +penitent (pen'i-tent), feeling sorrow on account of offence. Penitent +Peter, Luke 22, 54-62. + +pensive (pen'siv), thoughtful; sad. + +pent (pent), penned or shut up. + +penthouse (pent'hous'), a shed sloping from the main wall or building, as +over a door or window. + +Pequot (pe'kwot), a former tribe of North American Indians, the most +dreaded of all in southern New England. + +peradventure (per'ad-ven'tur), by chance; perhaps. + +perceive (per-sev'), obtain knowledge of through the senses; see. + +perceptible (per-sep'ti-b'l), capable of being perceived. + +perfidious (per-fid'i-us), false to a trust reposed. + +perpetrator (pur'pe-tra'ter), one who does or performs. + +perpetual (per-pet'u-al), continuing forever, endless. + +perplexity (per-plek'si-ti), bewilderment; doubt. + +persecution (pur'se-ku'shun), pursuing to injure; injury. + +perseverance (pur'se-ver'ans), continuing in a given cause; persistence. + +perusal (pe-rooz'al), a careful reading through. + +pervade (per-vad'), spread through-out; pass through. + +pervasive (per-va'siv), having the power to spread throughout. + +perverse (per-vurs'), turned aside or away from the right, contrary. + +perversity (per-vur'si-ti), the quality of being perverse. + +pestilence (pes'ti-lens), any contagious disease that is devastating. + +pestilent (pes'ti-lent), destructive; troublesome. + +Petruchio's Kate (pe-troo'chi-o), Petruchio--a character in Shakespeare's +play, "Taming the Shrew." His wife, Kate, is called a shrew on account of +her ill-temper. + +petty (pet'i), small, trifling. + +pewter (pu'ter), a hard, tough, but easily fusible alloy of tin with lead. + +phalanx (fa'lanks), a body of troops in close array; combination of people +firmly united. + +phantom (fan'tum), that which has only apparent existence, a ghost. + +phenomenon (fe-nom'e-non), pl. phenomena, that which strikes one as +strange, unusual, or unaccountable; an appearance. + +philanthropist (fi-lan'thro-pist), one who loves mankind, and seeks to +promote the good of others. + +philosopher (fi-los'o-fer), one who lives according to the rules of +practical wisdom; one devoted to the search after wisdom. + +phiz (fiz), the face; a humorous abbreviation for physiognomy. + +Phlegethon (fleg'e-thon), in Greek mythology, a river of fire in the lower +world. + +phlegm (flem), sluggishness of temperament; dullness. + +Phoebus (fe'bus), or Phoebus Apollo in Greek and Roman mythology, one of +the great Olympian gods and giver of light and life. Leader of the Muses +and God of music. + +physical (fiz'i-kal), pertaining to nature; relating to the bodily +structure as opposed to things mental. + +physiognomy (fiz'i-og'no-mi), the face or countenance. + +pibroch (pe'brok), a Highland air; air played on bagpipes when Highlanders +go to battle. + +picturesque (pik'tur-esk'), forming a pleasing picture. + +pillage (pil'aj), something taken by force; plunder. + +pin (pin), mood, + +Pinckney, William (pink'ni), an American lawyer and diplomatist of a fine +old southern family. + +"Pindusborn Aracthus" (pin'dus, a-rak'thus), a river in Greece, Pindus-born +because it rises in the Pindus mountains. + +pinion (pin'yun), a feather; quill; a wing. + +pinnacle (pin'a-k'l), a lofty peak; the very topmost point. + +Pisa (pe'za), small town in Italy, famous for its leaning tower. + +Piscataqua (pis-kit'a-kwa), a river in New Hampshire. + +"pitch and moment," impetus or speed. + +"pitch of pride," in the very place where Douglas's pride is centered. + +pitcher plant, a plant with leaves shaped like pitchers. + +"pith o' sense," the force, strength, or essence of sense. + +plain (plan), complain. + +Plains of Abraham, an elevated plain just beyond Quebec to the southwest; +the scene of the battle of Quebec. + +plain-song, a short, comprehensive prayer, adapted to a particular day or +occasion, recited in one tone. + +Plaquemine (plak'men), Bayou of (bi'oo) an inlet from the Mississippi river +in Louisiana. + +planetree, an Oriental tree, rising with a straight, smooth branching Stem +to a great height; the sycamore or buttonwood. + +plashy (plash'i), watery; splashy + +Plataea's day (pla-te'a), + +plausible (plo'zi-b'l), praiseworthy; reasonable. + +pleasance (plez'ans), pleasure; merriment. + +plebeian (ple-be'yan), of or pertaining to the common people. + +pliant (pli'ant), capable of plying or bending; flexible. + +policy (pol'i-si), prudence or wisdom in the management of public and +private affairs. + +pollute (po-lut'), make foul, impure, or unclean. + +pomp (pomp), show of magnificence or splendor. + +ponder (pon'der), think or deliberate. + +ponderous (pon'der-us), very heavy; weighty. + +Popedom (pop'dum), place, office, or dignity of the pope. + +populous (pop'u-lus), containing many inhabitants. + +porpoise (por'pus), a sea fish closely allied to the dolphin. + +port (port), the left side of a ship, looking forward. + +portal (por'tal), a door or gate. + +portcullis (port-kul'is), a grating of iron or of timbers pointed with +iron, hung over the gateway of a fortress. + +portent (por'tent), a sign of coming calamity. + +portico (por'ti-ko), a colonnade; covered space before a building. + +postern (pos'tern), back door or gate, especially of a castle. + +potent (po'tent), powerful, having great authority. + +potentate (po'ten-tat), monarch. + +praetor (pre'tor), a civil officer among the ancient Romans, + +precarious (pre-ka'ri-us), riot to be depended on; dangerous. + +precedent (pre-sed'ent), going before. + +precedent (pres'e-dent), a decision serving as a rule for future +determination in similar cases. + +precipitate (pre-sip'i-tat), overhasty, rash; to fall with steep descent. + +precocity (pre-kos'i-ti), development more than is natural at a given age. + +preconceive (pre'kon-sev'), form an idea or opinion in the mind beforehand. + +predetermination (pre'de-tur'mi-na'shun), a decision reached beforehand. + +preeminent (pre-em'i-nent), above other things of exalted station. + +pregnant (preg'nant), heavy with important contents or significance. + +prejudice (prej'oo-dis), judgment formed without due examination; to bias +the mind of. + +prelude (prel'ud), introductory performance. + +premature (pre'ma-tur'), ripe before the proper time. + +presage (pre'saj), n. sign, presentiment. + +presage (pre-saj'), foretell. + +presuppose (pre'su-poz'), take for granted. + +pretension (pre-ten'shun), laying claim to more than is due. + +prevalent (prev'a-lent), generally existing; widespread. + +primal (pri'mal), first; original. + +prithee (prith'e), a corruption of "pray thee," generally used without the +"I." + +privation (pri-va'shun), depriving or taking away; getting along without. + +proclaim (pro-klam'), make known by public announcement. + +prodigal (prod'i-gal), given to extravagant spending. Prodigal Son, Luke +15, 11-32. + +prodigious (pro-dij'us), very great; immense. + +prodigy (prod'i-ji), a marvel or wonder. + +profess (por-fes) admit freely. + +proffer (prof-er), offer for acceptance. + +profound (pro-found') reaching too the bottom of a matter; deep. + +profuse (pre-fus'), pouring forth bountifully; lavish. + +progenitor (pro-jen'i-ter), ancestor; forefather. + +projecting (pro-jekt'ing), planning; throwing forward. + +promontory (prom'un-to-ri), high point of land projecting into the sea. + +promulgate (pro-mul'gat), make known, proclaim. + +prone (pron), prostrate, flat; inclined, disposed. + +proportionate (pro-por'shun-at), at the same rate. + +proscribe (pro-skrib'), doom to destruction; denounce. + +prostrate (pros'trat), lying at length with the body extended on the +ground. + +provoke (pre-vok'), call forth, irritate. + +prudence (proo'dens), wisdom in the way of caution and provision. + +puke (puk), vomit. + +Punic (pu'nik), pertaining to the Carthaginians, whom the Romans considered +unworthy of trust, hence, faithless. + +purling (pur'ling), eddy; also, to make a murmuring sound as water does in +running over an obstruction. + +purport (pur'port), meaning. + +pursue (pur-su'), follow with a view to overtake; chase. + +Pyrrhic (pir'ik), Pyrrhic dance, a Greek martial dance. Pyrrhic phalanx, a +phalanx such as was used by Pyrrhus, king of Epirus. + +quaff (kwaf), drink. + +Queen of Lebanon (Leba-nen), Lady Hester Stanhope, niece of William Pitt. +She established herself in the Lebanon hills near Jerusalem, awaiting the +second coming of Christ. + +quell (kwel), subdue; repress. + +querulous (kwer'oo-lus), apt to find fault. + +quick (kwik), vital part. + +quietus (kwi-e'tus), that which silences claim; death. + +rack (rak), danger. + +radical (rad'i-kal), proceeding directly from the root. + +railer (ral'er), one who scoffs. + +raiment (ra'ment), clothing. + +rampart (ram'part), defense. + +rampire (ram'pir), same as rampart. + +Rance (rans), a river in France. + +random (ran'dum), want of direction: chance. + +rapine (rap'Tn), a plundering, + +rapture (rap'tur), pleasure, delight. + +Ratisbon (rat'is-bon), town in Bavaria, Germany, called Regensburg by the +Germans. + +ravage (rav'aj), desolation by violence. + +ravenous (rav''n-us), devouring with great eagerness. + +raze (raz), lay level with the ground. + +rebuff (re-buf), sudden check. + +rebuke (re-buk'), check or silence with reproof; chide. + +recall (re-kol'), call back; remember. + +recede (re-sed'), retreat; move back. + +recess (re-ses'), part of a room formed by the receding of a wall. + +recessional (re-sesh'un-al), a hymn sung while the choir and clergy are +leaving the church at the close of a service. + +reciprocate (re-sip'ro-kat), a mutual giving and returning. + +reck (rek), heed. + +recoil (re-koil'), drawing back. + +recollection (rek'o-lek'shun), something called to mind. + +reconcile (rek'on-sil), pacify, settle. + +reconnoiter (rek'o-noi'ter) examine with the eye, survey. + +recreation (rek're-a'shun), amusement. + +recruit (re-kroot'), repair by fresh supplies; reinforcement. + +rectitude (rek'ti-tud), honesty. + +recurrence (re-kur'ens), the act of returning from time to time. + +redress (re-dres'), set right a wrong. + +reek (rek), send forth vapor or smoke, "reeking tube," guns and cannons. + +reel (rel), stagger. + +refluent (ref'loo-ent), flowing back. + +reflux (re'fluks), ebb. + +refugee (ref'u-je'), one who flees to a place of safety. + +refuse (ref'us), waste matter. + +regal (re'gal), royal. + +regent (re'jent), ruler. + +Regulus (reg'u-lus), + +reiterate (re-it'er-at), repeat again and again. + +relax (re-laks'), slacken. + +relevant (rel'e-vant), bearing upon the case in hand. + +relief (re-lef), in art, projection of a figure above the ground on which +it is formed. + +reluctant (re-luk'tant), unwilling. + +remnant (rem'nant), that which remains after a part is removed. + +remonstrate (re-mon'strat), present and urge reasons in opposition to an +act. + +removes (re-moovz'), a transfer of one's business or belongings from one +place to another. + +remuneration (re-mu'ner-a'shun), payment. + +renown (re-noun'), fame. + +rent (rent), broken. + +repair (re-par'), go. + +reputation (rep'u-ta'shun), estimation in which one is held. + +repute (re-put'), estimate. + +requisite (rek'wi-zit), something required. + +research (re-surch'), continued search after truth. + +reserve (re-surv'), withhold from present use for another purpose or time. + +resignation (rez'ig-na'shun), a giving up a claim, possession or office, +etc. + +resistless (re-zist'les), powerless to withstand; helpless. + +resolute (rez'e-lut), determined. + +respectively (re-spek'tiv-li), relating to each. + +respite (res'pit), a putting off. + +restoration (res'to-ra'shun), a bringing back to a former condition. + +retain (re-tan'), keep. + +retreat (re-tret'), departure; shelter. + +reveal (re-vel'), disclose. + +revelry (rev'el-ri), noisy festivity. + +reverberate (re-vur'ber-at), echo. + +reverence (rev'er-ens), a mingled feeling of awe and admiration. + +reverend (rev'er-end), worthy of respect. + +revery (rev'er-i), day dream. + +reviving (re-viv'ing), returning to life. + +Reyhan (ra-han'), + +ribband (rib'band'), a ribbon. + +rife (rif), prevailing. + +rift (rift), an opening made by splitting. + +riot (ri ut), tumult. + +rise (riz; ris), cause; occasion. + +rite (rit), solemn observance. + +rivet (riv'et), fasten firmly. + +riving (riv'ing), splitting. + +roan (ron), brown or black color, with gray or white interspersed. + +roister (rois'ter), a blustering, noisy fellow. + +romance (ro-mans'), tale or novel. + +"Romance languages," the languages which were originally dialects of Latin, +as French, Spanish, Italian. + +Roos (roos), + +Roushan Beg (roo'shan-bag), + +routed (rout'ed), overpowered. + +routine (roo-ten'), a round of business or pleasure frequently returning. + +Royal Society, a society of London for improving natural knowledge. + +rub (rub), hindrance. + +rubicund (roo'bi-kund), ruddy, red. + +rudiment (roo'di-ment), a beginning or first step. + +rumor (roo'mer), hearsay, common talk. + +runic (roo'nik), pertaining to the written language of the ancient +Norsemen. + +rural (roo'ral), pertaining to the country. + +rustic (rus'tik), unpolished. + +ruthlessly (rooth'les-li), in a cruel manner. + +Rutledge (rut'lej), the name of an illustrious family in South +Carolina--one of them was a signer of the declaration of Independence and +governor of the state. + +sabre (sa'ber), a sword with a broad, heavy blade, usually curved. + +sackcloth (sak'kloth'), a garment worn in mourning or penitence. + +saddle-girth (sad'l-gurth), that which fastens on the saddle. + +saddletree, frame of a saddle. + +sage (saj), wise. + +Saint (sant), + Catherine's tresses (kath'er-in) in the Roman church, St. Catherine is +noted for her vows never to marry. To braid St. Catherine's tresses applies +to one who does not marry. + + Eulalie (u-la'li), St. Eulalie's day is the 12th of February. If the sun +shines on that day, there will be a plentiful apple harvest. + + Francois (fran'swa'), a small river in Quebec. + + Helena (he-le'na), island off the coast of Africa; the place of +Napoleon's exile. + + Louis (loo'i), Louis IX, king of France. Napoleon received his education +at his country's expense. + + Malo (ma'le), city in France noted for its high tides. + + Maur (mor), town on the Teche river in Louisiana. + +Salamis (sal'a-mis), an island in the Gulf of Aegina, Greece, famous for a +great naval battle, 480 B. C. + +Salisbury (solz'ber-i), a town in northeastern Massachusetts near +Whittier's home. + +Sallust (sal'ust), a Roman historian who accompanied Caesar on his African +campaign. + +sally (sal'i), an excursion from the usual course. + +salutary (sal'u-ta-ri), wholesome. + +salutation (sal'u-ta'shun), greeting. + +Samian (sa'mi-an), pertaining to the island of Samos. + +sanctuary (sank'tu-a-ri), a sacred place; a place of refuge. + +Sandflesen (sand-fla'sen), + +sanguine (san'gwin), hopeful. + +Sappho (saf'o), a Greek woman who lived about 600 B. C., famous for her +lyric poetry. + +sark (sark), a skirt. + +sassafras (sas'a-fras), an American tree of the Laurel family. + +satiety (sa-ti'e-ti), fullness beyond desire. + +satirical (sa-tir'i-kal), cutting or sarcastic. + +savanna (sa-van'a), tract of level land covered with grass or reeds, but +without trees. + +Saxon (sak'sun), English, + +scar (skar), a bare place on a mountain side. + +scarf (skarf), in carpentry a certain kind of joint forming a continuous +piece. + +scaur (skar), + +sceptic (skep'tik), a doubter of fact. + +schooner (skoon'er), a vessel with three, four, and even with six masts +similarly rigged. + +Scian (si'an), pertaining to Scio, claimed by some to be the birth-place of +Homer, who is called the "Scian muse," + +Scio (si'e), an island in the Aegean Sea noted for its wine. + +scoff (skof), sneer. + +score (skor), furrow. + +Scorpion (skor'pi-un), a constellation; the eighth sign of the zodiac. + +scrupulous (skroo'pu-lus), exact. + +scrutiny (skroo'ti-ni), close examination. + +scud (skud), move swiftly. + +sculpture (skulp'tur), carve. + +"seal and hand," a letter with the seal and signature of the king, + +season (se'z'n), temper. + +sedulous (sed'u-lus), diligent, earnest. + +seethe (seth), boil. + +segment (seg'ment), a part cut off. + +Selborne (sel'born), a parish in England, noted on account of Gilbert +White's Natural History of Selborne. + +semblance (sem'blans), likeness. + +seneschal (sen'e-shal), officer in a prince's house. + +Sennacherib (se-nak'er-ib), + +sensation (sen-sa'shun), feeling obtained through the senses; state of +excited feeling or that which causes. + +sentiment (sen'ti-ment), opinion + +sentinel (sen'ti-nel), soldier set to guard an army or camp. + +sentry (sen'tri), guard. + +sepulchre (sep'ul-ker), grave; bury. + +seraglio (se-ral'yo), a harem. + +seraph (ser'af), an angel. + +serenity (se-ren'i-ti), calmness. + +serf (surf), a slave bound to work on a certain estate and sold with it. + +servile (sur'vil), like a slave; cringing. + +session (sesh'un), meeting. + +sesterce (ses'ters), an ancient Roman coin. + +settie (set''l), a high-backed bench. + +Sewel (su'al), William Sewel wrote a ponderous history of the Quakers. + +Sexagesima (sek'sa-jes'i-ma), the second Sunday before Lent. + +sever (sev'er), disjoin. + +shade (shad), ghost. + +shard (shard), a fragment of any hard substance. + +"sharps and trebles," musical notes. + +Shawnee (sho-ne'), a tribe of Indians. Their name means "Southerners." + +sheathe (sheth), cover with something which protects. + +sheen (shen), brightness. + +Sheik (shek), chief magistrate of an Arabian village. + +shelves (shelvz), slopes. + +shifty (shif'ti), changable. + +shingly (shm'gli), covered with gravel or pebbles. + +shoal (shol), a bar which makes the water shallow. + +shrew (shroo), a scold. + +shrewdness (shrood'nes), sharp-wittedness. + +shrive (shriv), to hear confession and pardon. + +shroud (shroud), set of ropes staying a ship's masts. + +shuffle (shuf'l), to rid one's self of. + +sicklied (sik'lid), made sickly. + +Sidney (sid'ni), Sir Philip, an English author and general of exceptionally +fine feeling. + +Sienas saint (sye'na), St. Catherine, the patron saint of Siena. + +silhouette (sil'oo-et'), profile portrait in black. + +similitude (si-mil'i-tud), resemblance. + +Sinai (si'ni), the mountain near, which the Israelites encamped, and where +the law was given to Moses. + +Sinbad (sin'bad), or Sindbad, a character in the "Arabian Nights," who made +seven wonderful voyages. + +sinew (sin'u), that which supplies strength or power; a tendon or tissue. + +sinuous (sin'u-us), winding, curving in and out. + +sire (sir), a father. + +Siren (si'ren), one of the three fabled sea nymphs, whose singing lured +mariners to destruction. + +site (sit), situation. + +Skarholm (skar'hom), + +skepticism (skep'ti-siz'm), doubt or uncertainty. + +skirt (skurt), surround. + +skulk (skulk), hide sneakingly. + +slack (slak), loosen; not pressing. + +sledge (slej), a sleigh. + +Sleepy Hollow, a locality in Tarrytown, New York. + +slip (slip), an inclined plane on which a vessel is built. + +sloth (sloth), slowness. + +smack (smak), small coasting vessel. + +smelt (smelt), melt ore so as to separate and refine metal. + +solace (sol'as), comfort in grief. + +solicitude (so-lis'i-tud), concern. + +Solidor (sol'i-dor), a fortress on the Rance river. + +soliloquy (se-lil'e-kwi), a talking to one's self. + +solstice (sol'stis), point in the earth's orbit at which the sun is +farthest from the equator; winter solstice at about December 22, summer +solstice about June 21. + +Solway (sol'wa), an arm of the Irish Sea between England and Scotland, +noted for the rapidity of its tides. + +sombre (som'ber), sad. + +sombrero (som-bra'ro), broad-brimmed hat worn in Spain and Spanish America. + +sonorous (so-no'rus), loud sounding. + +sophomore (sof'o-mor), one belonging to the second of the four classes in +an American college. + +sordid (sor'did), base. + +sorebestead (sor-be-sted'), being put in great peril. + +Southey, Robert (south'i), (1774-1843), an English poet of the Lake School. +He was made poet-laureate in 1813. + +sovereign (sov'er-in), monarch. + +spacious (spa'shus), vast in extent. + +Spanish Main, the name formerly given to the southern part of the Caribbean +Sea and the adjoining coast, covering the route of the Spanish treasure +ships. + +spar (spar), round timber used on a mast. + +Spartan (spar'tan), an inhabitant of Sparta; one of great endurance. + +spawn (spon), bring forth. + +species (spe'shez), a kind. + +specious (spe'shus), showy. + +spectacle (spek'ta-k'l), something exhibited to view. + +spectre (spek'ter), ghost. + +spherule (sfer'ool), a little sphere. + +spiral (spi'ral), winding like the thread of a screw. + +spontaneous (spon-ta'ne-us), proceeding from a natural feeling, not forced. + +spouse (spouz), husband or wife. + +sprite (sprit), fairy. + +spume-flakes (spum), flakes of froth or foam. + +spur (spur), a pricking implement fastened to a rider's heel. + +spurn (spurn), scorn. + +squadron (skwod'run), a detachment of war vessels under command of a +flag-officer. + +squall (skwol), sudden and violent gust of wind. + +stagnate (stag'nat), cease to flow, become dull. + +stalwart (stol'wert), brave, strong. + +stalworth (stol'wurth), brave, strong. + +stanchion (stan'shun), bar for confining cattle in a stall. + +starboard (star'bord), side of a vessel on the right hand of one on board +facing the bow. + +staunch (stanch), stop the flow of. + +stemson (stem'sun), a piece of curved timber bolted to the stem in a ship's +frame. + +sterile (ster'il), barren. + +sterling (stur'ling), genuine. + +stern (sturn), after end of a vessel. + +sternsonknee (sturn'sun-ne), the continuation of a vessel's keelson to +which the stern-post is secured by bolts. + +stirrup (stir'up), a ring for supporting a horseman's foot. + +stoic (sto'ik), one who appears to be indifferent to pleasure or pain. + +Stony Point, a fort on the west bank of the Hudson, captured by the British +in 1779 and retaken by the American forces under Anthony Wayne. + +storied (sto'rid), having an interesting history. + +strained (strand), forced. + +strenuous (stren'u-us), earnest; active, vigorous. + +sturgeon (stur'jun), a large fish common on the coasts and in large rivers +and lakes. + +Suarven (swar'ven), + +subaltern (sub-pi'tern), an officer of inferior position, usually below the +rank of a captain. + +subjugation (sub'joo-ga'shun), the act of conquering or subduing. + +sublime (sub-lim'), majestic. + +submission (sub-mish'un), a yielding to power or authority. + +subservience (sub-sur'vi-ens), the state of being subordinate; yielding. + +subside (sub-sid'), cease from action, be calm. + +subsidiary (sub-sid'i-a-ri), assisting. + +subsistence (sub-sis'tens), means of support. + +substantial (sub-stan'shal), real; firm. + +subtile (sub'til; sut'l), difficult of understanding. + +suburb (sub'urb), an outlying part of a city. + +subvert (sub-vurt'), overthrow. + +suction (suk'shun), a sucking in. + +sue (su), seek after; plead. + +sufferance (suf'er-ans), endurance. + +suffuse (su-fus'), overspread. + +Suliote (soo'li-et), + +sultry (sul'tri), very hot and moist. + +summons (sum'unz), call by authority to appear at a place named. + +Sumter (sum'ter), an illustrious family of South Carolina. Thomas Sumter +was a Revolutionary general. + +sunder (sun'der), sever. + +Sunium (su'ni-um), an ancient city on a promontory in southeastern Greece. +It contains the white marble ruins of a temple to Athene, a famous landmark +from the sea. + +superb (su-purb'), magnificent. + +superfluity (su'per-floo'i-ti), a greater quantity than is wanted. + +superinhuman (su'per-in-hu'man), attended with cruelty to a very great +degree. + +supernal (su-pur'nal), being in a higher place; heavenly. + +supernatural (su'per-nat'u-ral), being beyond the powers or law of nature. + +superstition (su'per-stish'un), a reverence for or fear of what is unknown +or mysterious. + +supine (su-pin'), indolent; inattentive. + +suppliance (sup'li-ans), entreaty. + +surcease (sur'ses'), end. + +surcoat (sur'kot'), a coat worn over the other garments, especially the +long, flowing coat of the knights worn over the armor. + +surf (surf), swell of the sea breaking upon the shore. + +surge (surj), a large wave or billow; rise high and roll. + +surgery (sur'jer-i), art of healing by manual operation. + +surly (sur'li), ill-natured, sullen. + +surmise (sur-miz'), suspicion; imagine without certain knowledge. + +surmount (stir-mount'), rise above; conquer. + +Surrey (sur'i), an English nobleman, Earl of Surrey, lieutenant of the +northern counties, a county in England. + +survive (sur-viv'), outlive; continue to live. + +suspect (sus-pekt'), an object of suspicion; mistrust. + +susurrus (su-sur'us), a whisper or murmur. + +swanlike (swon'lik), referring to the tradition that the swan sings a most +beautiful song just before death. + +swarthy (swor'thi), being of a dark hue or dusky complexion. + +swath (swoth; swoth), whole sweep of a scythe or machine. + +sweep (swep), a pole swinging on a tall post, to raise and lower a bucket +for drawing water. + +swoon (swoon), faint. + +sylvan (sil'van), forestlike; rustic. + +symbol (sim'bol), emblem. + +symmetry (sim'e-tri), due proportion of several parts of a body to each +other; beauty and balance of form. + +symptom (simp'tum), sign; token. + +synagogue (sin'a-gog), Jewish congregation or place for worship. + +taciturn (tas'i-turn), habitually silent. + +tang (tang), a strong taste. + +tankard (tank'ard), large drinking vessel. + +Tantallon (tan-tal'on), a castle in Scotland, the stronghold of the Douglas +family. + +taper (ta'per), gradually growing smaller. + +tapestry (tap'es-tri), hangings of wool or silk with gold or silver threads +producing a pattern or picture. + +tarn (tarn), a small mountain lake. + +Tartar (tar'tar), an inhabitant of Tartary, central Asia; an irritable or +violent person. + +Taygetus (ta'ge-tus), (p. 283, pronounced ta-ge'tus on account of rhythm), +highest mountain range in southern Greece. + +Teche (tesh), a small stream in Louisiana. + +teeming (tem'ing), bringing forth, abounding. + +"teeth of the wind," grasp of the wind. + +Teian (te'yan), pertaining to Te'os, an ancient Greek city in Asia Minor, +the birthplace of the Greek poet Anac'reon, who is called "the Teian Muse." + +temerity (te-mer'i-ti), contempt of danger; boldness. + +temper (tem'per), soften. + +temporal (tem'po-ral), pertaining to time or this world; not lasting. + +temporary (tem'po-ra-ri), lasting for a time only. + +tenant (ten'ant), occupant. + +tenantless (ten'ant-les), unoccupied. + +tendril (ten'dril), a slender leafless portion of a plant which attaches +itself to a supporting body. + +tenebrous (ten'e-brus), dark, gloomy. + +tenor (ten'er), general course; conduct. + +tenure (ten'ur), a holding. + +termagant (tur'ma-gant), scolding; violent; a scold. + +terminal (tur'mi-nal), boundary, end. + +testament (tes'ta-ment), a will or bequest. + +thatch (thach), straw, rushes, etc. + +theme (them), a topic on which one writes or speaks. In music, a short +melody from which a set of variations is developed. + +theory (the'o-ri), an idea; a plan. + +thereat (thar-at'), on that account. + +Thermopylae (ther-mop'i-le), a narrow pass in Greece, the scene of a famous +conflict in the Persian wars. A small army of Greeks defended the pass +against a vast army of Persians under Xerxes. + +thill (thil), shaft of a carriage. + +thole (thol), pin set in the gunwale of a boat to serve as a fulcrum for +the oar in rowing. + +thorough-brace (thur'o-bras'), a leather strap supporting the body of a +carriage. + +thorp (thorp), a small village. + +Thracian (thra'shan), pertaining to Thrace, in early times the entire +region north of Greece. + +thrall (throl), slave, bondman. + +thylke (thilk), the same. + +tinsel (tin'sel), something shiny and gaudy, more showy than valuable. + +tintinnabulation (tin'ti-nab'u-la'shun), a word coined by Poe to represent +the sound of bells. + +Titan (ti'tan), enormous, like the ancient giants in Greek mythology. + +titular (tit'u-lar), existing in title or name only. + +tocsin (tok'sin), an alarm bell. + +tolerable (tol'er-a-b'l), capable of being endured. + +tolerant (tol'er-ant), indulgent, allowing. + +tollmen (tol'men), men who gather toll or tax. + +tome (tom), a large book. + +Tongres (ton'gr'), a town in Belgium. + +torpor (tor'por), dullness. + +torrent (tor'ent), a violent stream as of water or lava. + +Tory (to'ri), a supporter of the king. + +Tourville (toor'vel), + +"Tous les Bourgeois' de Chartres" (too la boor-zhwa' de shartr), the title +of an old French song. + +tradition (tra-dish'un), custom or practice long observed; oral delivery of +information from father to son. + +Trafalgar (tra-fal'gar), + +traffic (traf'ik), commerce. + +trainband (tran'band), a band or company of an organized military force +instituted by James I dissolved by Charles II but reorganized later. + +trait (trat), distinguishing mark or feature. + +traitor (tra'ter), one who betrays a trust. + +tranquil (tran'kwil), calm. + +transcendent (tran-sen'dent), very excellent, surpassing others. + +transfigure (trans-fig'ur), change the appearance of; make more beautiful. + +transient (tran'shent), not lasting; staying for a short time. + +transition (tran-sizh'un), passing from one condition or place to another. + +transitory (tran'si-to-ri), fleeting. + +transmutation (trans'mu-ta'shun), the changing from one form or condition +to another. + +travail (trav'al), toil; produce with severe exertion. + +treacherous (trech'er-us), faithless. + +Trebizond (treb'i-zond'), province in northeastern Asia Minor. + +treble, (treb'l), increase threefold. + +treenails (tre'nalz), long wooden pins used in fastening planks of a vessel +to the timbers or to each other. + +tremor (tre'mor; trem'or), a trembling. + +tremulous (trem'u-lus), quivering; affected with fear or timidity. + +trepidation (trep'i-da'shun), fear. + +tribulashun (trib'u-la'shun), that which causes distress. + +tribunal (tri-bu'nal), a court; seat of a judge. + +tributary (trib'u-ta-ri), inferior; contributing. + +trice (tris), a very short time. + +trireme (tri'rem), an ancient galley or vessel with three tiers of oars. + +Triton (tri'ton), a sea god, son of Neptune and his trumpeter. + +triumphal (tri-um'fal), in honor of a victory. + +trophy (tro'fi), anything preserved as a memorial. + +"Truce of God," in 1040 the church drew up a compact which forbade any +fighting between sunset on Wednesday and sunrise on the following Monday. + +truculent (truk'u-lent), fierce. + +trysail (tri'sal'), a fore-and-aft sail, bent to a gaff, and hoisted on a +lower mast--used chiefly as a storm sail. + +tumultuous (tu-mul'tu-us), boisterous, riotous. + +Tunis (tu'nls), a country in N. Africa, one of the Barbary states. + +turbulent (tur'bu-lent), producing commotion; restless. + +turf (turf), sod. + +turmoil (tur'moil), worrying confusion. + +turnpike (turn'pik'), tollgate; a turnpike road. + +turret (tur'et), a small tower at the angle of a large building. + +Tuscarora (tus-ka-ro'ra), a tribe of Indians who, when first known, lived +in North Carolina. After years of warfare with the colonists, the remnant +joined the Iroquois in New York. + +twang (twang), sound with a quick, harsh noise. + +typify (tip'i-fi), represent by a type, model, or resemblance. + +tyranny (tir'a-ni), cruel government or discipline; severity. + +Tyre (tir), a famous maritime city of Phoenicia. + +ubiquity (u-blk'wi-ti), existence everywhere at the same time. + +ultimate (ul'ti-mat), incapable of further analysis; final. + +unbeholden (un'be-hol'd'n), not indebted. + +uncalculating (un-kal'ku-lat'ing), not estimating. + +unconditional (un'kon-dish'un-al), made without conditions. + +unconfined (un-kon-find'), not bound or limited. + +uncouth (un-kooth'), awkward. + +undulating (un'du-lat'ing), moving backward and forward, or up and down in +waves. + +unfledged (un-flejd'), not feathered, hence not fully developed. + +unfurl (un-furl'), unfold. + +unison (u'ni-sun), harmony. + +universal (u'ni-vur'sal), including the whole number, quantity, or space; +all-reaching. + +unknelled (un-neld'), having no bell tolled at funeral or death. + +unmeet (un-met'), not suitable. + +unobtrusive (un'ob-troo'siv), modest. + +unperturbed (un-per-turbd'), not troubled or confused. + +unpremeditated (un-pre-med'i-tat'ed), not thought out beforehand. + +unprofaned (un-pro-fand'), not violated, as anything sacred. + +unproportioned (un-pro-por'shund), not having the right relation of one +portion to another. + +unrestrained (un-re-strand'), not kept in check or curbed. + +unrivalled (un-ri'vald), having competitor. + +unscathed (un-skathd'), not injured. + +unwonted (un-wun'ted), unaccustomed. + +upbraid (tip-brad'), reproach or blame. + +Upharsin (u-far'sin), See Daniel 5, 25. + +upholsterer (up-hol'ster-er), one who provides curtains, coverings, +hangings, etc. + +urchin (ur'chin), a roguish child. + +Ursini (ur-se'ne), a prominent noble family in Rome. + +usurp (u-zurp'), seize and hold a possession by force. + +utterance (ut'er-ans), the act of speech. + +vague (vag), uncertain. + +valiant (val'yant), courageous. + +valor (val'er), personal bravery. + +van (van), the front of an army + +vandal (van'dal), one who wilfully destroys any work of art or literature. + +vane (van), weathercock. + +vanquish (van'kwish), conquer or get the better of. + +vantage-ground (van'taj-ground), condition which gives one advantage over +another. + +variant (va'ri-ant), different. + +variegated (va'ri-e-gat'ed), having marks of different colors. + +vassal (vas'al), a subject or servant. + +vaunt (vant), boast. + +vehement (ve'he-ment), acting with great force; violent. + +velocity (ve'-los'i-ti), speed. + +vendue (ven-du'), an auction. + +venerable (ven'er-a-b'l), deserving honor and respect. + +venerate (ven'er-at), regard with respect and awe. + +vengeance (ven'jans), punishment inflicted in return for injury; revenge. + +vent (vent), outlet. + +venture (ven'tur), risk. + +veracity (ve-ras'i-ti), truthfulness. + +verdant (vur'dant), green. + +verdure (vur'dur), greenness. + +verge (vurj), edge, brink. + +verily (ver'i-li), beyond doubt or question, truly. + +vernal (vur'nal), pertaining to the spring. + +version (vur'shun), a translation, account. + +vestal (ves'tal), a virgin consecrated to Vesta; nun. + +veteran (vet'er-an), one grown old in service. + +vibrant (vi'brant), tremulous. + +vibration (vi-bra'shun), quick motion to and fro. + +vicinity (vi-sin'i-ti), neighborhood. + +vicissitude (vi-sis'i-tud), regular change or succession from one thing to +another. + +vigil (vij'il), watch. + +vindicate (vin'di-kat), justify. + +virago (vi-ra'go), a woman of extraordinary size, strength, and courage. + +virtually (vur'tu-al-li), being in essence or effect, not in fact. + +visage (viz'aj), the face. + +vision (vizh'un), that which is seen. + +vista (vis'ta), view between intervening objects. + +vivid (viv'id), true to life; bright. + +vivify (viv'i-fi), make alive. + +vixen (vik's'n), a cross, ill-tempered woman. + +vocation (vo-ka'shun), occupation. + +vociferous (vo-sif'er-us), noisy. + +void (void), empty; being without. + +volley (vol'i), a burst of many things at once. + +Volturnus (vol-toor'nus), a river in _Italy_. + +voluminous (vo-lu'mi-nus), of great volume or bulk. + +voluptuous (ve-lup'tu-us), full of pleasure; luxurious. + +vortices (vor'ti-sez), whirlpools. + +vouchsafe (vouch-saf'), condescend to grant; assure. + +voyageur (vwa'ya'zhur'), a traveler; Canadian term used for one employed in +transporting goods to the Northwest. + +vulture (vul'tur), a bird which feeds on dead flesh of animals or birds. + +Vurrgh (vurg), + +Wachita (wa'shi-ta), + +wafted (waft'ed), floated along lightly on air or water. + +wail (wal), weep. + +wain (wan), wagon. + +wake (wak), trace. + +wallet (wol'et), knapsack; pocket-book. + +Walleway (wal'e-wa), probably Longfellow had reference to the Wallowa river +in northeastern Oregon. + +wan (won), pale. + +wanton (won'tun), reckless. + +wantoned (won'tund), played. + +warder (wor'der), guard. + +Ware (war), a town in England about 20 miles north of London. + +warld (warld), world. + +warp (worp), the threads extending lengthwise in a loom, and crossed by the +woof. + +wary (wa'ri; war'i), cautious, watchful. + +wash (wosh), bog or marsh. + +watch (woch), period during which one serves as a sentinel or guard. + +water-butt (wo'ter-but), a large, open-headed cask, set up on end to +contain water. + +Waterloo (wo'ter-loo'), a village near Brussels where Napoleon met defeat. +So complete and so decisive was the disaster that Waterloo has come to mean +defeat. + +waver (wa'ver), totter; unsettled. + +weather-cock, figure often in the form of a cock, turning with the wind and +showing its direction. + +weird (werd), pertaining to witchcraft; wild. + +welkin (wel'kin), vault of heaven; sky. + +welter (wel'ter), roll or tumble about. + +Wert (wurt), were (pronounce to rhyme with "art"). + +Westminster Abbey (west'min-ster), a former church in London, the burial +place of many kings, statesmen, and authors. + +whig (h'wig), one of a political party in England, also in America; opposed +to Tories. + +whipple-tree (hwip'l-tre'), bar to which the traces of a harness are +fastened for drawing a carriage. + +whisking (hwisk'ing), moving nimbly and with velocity. + +whit (hwit), the smallest part imaginable. + +White, Gilbert (hwit), an eminent English naturalist, who was born in +Selborne and was the author of "Natural History of Selborne." + +Wicaco (we-ka'ko), + +wimpling (wim'pling), rippling. + +wis (wis), think. + +wistful (wist'fool), longing. + +witchhazel (wich'-ha-z'l), American tree or shrub which blossoms late in +Autumn. + +withhold (with-hold'), keep back. + +wizard (wiz'ard), a magician. + +woebegone (wo'be-gon'), distressed with grief. + +wold (wold), a plain or low hill. + +Wolfe, Charles (woolf), an Irish clergyman and poet, born 1791. + +Wolsey, Thomas (wool'si), a celebrated English statesman and cardinal. He +gained the ill-will of Henry VIII by his conduct in the matter of the +King's divorce. + +wont (wunt), custom or habit. + +woof (woof), the threads crossing the warp in a woven fabric. + +Worcester, Joseph Emerson (woos'ter), + +wrack (rak), ruin. + +writhe (rith), twist. + +wrought (rot), made. + +Xanthippus (zan-thip'us), a Spartan commander who won a victory over +Regulus in 255 B.C. + +yacht (yot), light vessel for pleasure trips. + +yard (yard), a long, slender timber to support and extend a ship's sail. + +yeoman (yo'man), a common man of a reputable class. + +Ypsilanti (ip'se-lan'te), a celebrated Greek patriot who in 1820 became a +leader in the movement for Greek independence. + +Yulelog (yool'-log') a large log of wood, formerly put on the hearth on +Christmas Eve, as the foundation of the fire. It was brought in with much +ceremony. + +zeal (zel), enthusiasm. + +zone (zon), girdle. + +Zutphen (zut'fen), a town in the Netherlands. Sir Philip Sidney was wounded +before it in 1586. + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Elson Grammer School Literature, Book +Four., by William H. Elson and Christine Keck + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ELSON GRAMMER SCHOOL LIT. 4 *** + +This file should be named 8elsw10.txt or 8elsw10.zip +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, 8elsw11.txt +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, 8elsw10a.txt + +This eBook was produced by Steve Schulze, Charles Franks +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. 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