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LD    AND    NEW 


VOLUME  V 


JANUARY    fip^  TO   i»fc¥    1872 


'The  ererlasdng  fbontain  of  knowledge,  Old  and  New" 

God  in  History.  ^^M^%t3H 


BOSTON 

)BERTS  BROTHERS,  143  WASHINGTON  STREE'jr 
NEW  YORK  ' 


AUGUST  BRENTANO,  33  UNION  SQUARE,  BROADWAY 

THE  AMERICAN  NEWS  COMPANY.  119  NASSAU  STREET 

LONDON:  SAMPSON  LOW,  SON,  &  MARSTON 

1873 

Q      , 


/ 


Mi. 


■ 


osi 

■'  ^M5  799 

Botered,  according  to  Act  of  CongreM,  in  the  jrear  187s,  hj 
PmorsiBTOts  or  tmb  "Old  and  Nbw,** 

Ifl  the  Office  of  the  LTbivian  cf  CangFUi*  a  WailitDfto&, 


CONTENTS,  VOL.  V. 


JANUABY. 

ew ^ 1 

lsn-1. Mn,  F.H.Cooke. 4 

e  by  Half  a  Dozen  of  the  Other  (Gh«M. 

.).   ..TTT. ^ 

ijro  F\re Mrs.  M.  A.  Sharen 17 

r^U«l  B«aatiftil John  W.  Chadwick 29 

•  Dftoghter.    (Chftps.  Xl^Xm.) George  Mac  Donald. 31 

loeiWh  XoveU.    (No.  II.) Henry  W.  BeUowe 46 

»  XUrfat Constance  F.  WooUon 01 

icf  Ck«nthei  Edtoard  Beecher.  D.D 02 

vBU>wer (Hwer  WendeUHolmei 09 

im'sTale Wild  Edgerton Tl 

[>owBs.    (Chap.  Xn.) Edward  F.  Hate 80 

::» of  the  Lortl." WUUam  C.  Gannett M 

•IXAJflXER. 91 

2D  OF  PBOGSE0S » 109 

Cl'adiwoith  Lorioff ^...127 

FEBRUABY. 

Tew „ 1S9 

'^d  Writings  of  Waahiogton 183 

tif  Breath C.  H.  I. 162 

•*  Daughter.    (Chapa.  X1V.-2LVU.) George  MacDonald 153 

r  Rh  vme  Christina  G.  Rossetti 169 

.mce Thom€is  Meehan 170 

w Mary  B.Dodge 170 

iz.1  Sacrifice Orville  Dewey 177 

T.  th**  General 190 

r  by  Ualf  a  Dozen  of  the  Other.    (Chapa. 

X     .' 203 

A^r.>  ExprcMion  of  Countenance Richard  S.  Greenough 221 

: ar  J  I^i-r.ef «  of  Washington J.  E.  fF. 2if3 

y/*  AzTirnlioral  Letter* Georae  Hannah 224 

r • :  i»  c:  re^ » Annie  L .  Muzzey 22T 

ExAMi^itx 229 

AKT* 241 

«j>  or  Progress 2fil 


MARCH. 

5*-ir 257 

.:»ritin£  of  Junloa C.  C.  S 281 

a  a  \\'>.-rry M.  S.  Severance 287 

.nr  Iih-me ChristinaG.  Rossetti 278 

i:'ia  ' Edward  A.  Pollard 279 

t"  Fat* Reverend  Roberts 290 

ir'.  I>auirhtpr.    (Chapa.  XVII.,  XIX.) George  MacDonald 291 

«'ir;.  Tail  Yoa  Lo^ 308 

rr. i'i o:j a  1 C.  F.  Dunlxtr 311 

Henry  Abbey 321 

I>  WT».     rChapa.  Xm.-XIV.) E.  E.  Hale 322 

-•;  iTtacJjtrt Hattie  T.  Griswold 332 

330 

r.- 1  ar.l  Grant George  Bailey  Loring 837 

B»  by  Half  a  Dozen  of  the  Other.    (C:9iapa. 

Ill:  845 

^a*  358 

ExAMi^nm 359 

0U>  or  PBOGBZS8 873 

m 


iv  Contents 

APEIL. 

OldandNv^ ' > 

A  March  Chronicle John  Burroughs 1 

^^The  Break  between  Modem  Thought  and  Ancient 

Faith  and  Worship Henry  W.BeU&wt/, S 

A  Glimpse  of  the  Labor  Question  SixtyTeara  Ago..  C  A,  Cummingg.,. H 

The  Vicar's  Daughter.  (Chaps.  XX.-XXm.) Gwrge  MacDomM € 

611v«rl8let  Mine B,  C.  Mifflin, € 

^^wo  Characters T,  O.  A 4 

Six  of  One  by  Half  a  Dozen  of  the  Other.    (Chaps. 

xni.-xvi.) 41 

Helen  L.  Ollson Mrt.  P.  M .Clapp A 

Ups  and  Downs.    (Chaps.  XV., XVI.) E.  E.  HaU 4 

_Nauta J.M.M. f 

American  Poetry WUUam  B.  Weedm I 

All Brands  A.  Durivage 4 

The  Examiner 4 

Fine  Arts ^ 4 

Record  OF  Progress I 

MAT.- 

Old  and  New I 

Reminiffconccfl  of  BroolcFann I 

The  Spring  Woods I 

The  Vlcnr'B  Daughter.    (Chap.  XXTV.) George  MacDonald I 

The  PInccof  Mind  in  Nature,  and  Intuition  in  Man.    Eev,  James  Martinetm * I 

Counsel Mrs.  M,  A,  Shorey I 

Helen  L.  Ollson.    (H.) Mrs.  P,  M.  Clapp I 

•Whore  Earth  and  Heaven  Meet." B.  S,  P I 

Blx  (»f  One  by  Half  a  Dozen  of  the  Other.    (Chaps. 

XVll.-XX.) I 

CurloBltles  of  Literature F.  B.  Perkins I 

St.  Peter's  closed  during  Holy  Week C.  T.  B I 

Uns  and  Downs.    (Chaps.  XVII.,  XVHL) B.  E.  Hale ] 

Education  In  Congress George  F.  Hoar .1 

The  Old  Grammar  Master's  Address  to  May C.  T.  B 4 

Mouna  Lisa A.  A.  B i 

The  Examiner ••! 

Fine  Arts \ 

^  liECORD  OF  Progress 4 

JUNE. 

Old  and  New .> ^ J 

The  Vicar's  Daughter.    (CHiaps.  XXV.-XXVH.). . .  George  MacDonald 4 

Two  Sonnets John  W,  Chadwick Jl 

The  I5rnhmo  SomaJ J 

Our  Pilgrimage.    (V.) J 

C^  n  r  n  i  n  g HackeU  Stevenson \ 

Out  of  the  Shadow T.  G.  A J 

Blx  of  One  by  Half  a  Dozen  of  the  Other.    (Chap. 

XXL) J 

Llv1nj?in  Germany Francis  Tiffany J 

The  Burning  Bu8h H.M,  Simmons • 

. — ^Pompeii T,  G,A 1 

The  Examiner ••! 

Record  OF  Progress ! 

Horticulture •! 


^w' 


OLD   AND    NEW. 

Vol.  v.— JANUARY.  1872.— No.  1. 


•  The  ererlastliif  fbutaln  of  knowMget  Old  Mid  X«w  "  {God  im  Hlttorj/).  —  Bi'Vhev. 

E  year  which  has  just  now  closed  must  find  its  place  in  hi.story 

>ther  years  which  seemed  wonderful  as  they  passed  by.     Some 

marvels  will  seem  less  worthy  of  note  to  other  times,  thuu  they 

to   us ;  and   it  may  never  have  {>oet  or  historiun  with  wit  or 

i  to  mark  it  as  a  year  of  wonders  to  comiii*^  time.     Who  can 

But  whether  the  world  choose  to  mark  it  in  tlie   eaK'nthir  of 

ast    or   no,  the  world   will  have   to   note   some  extraordinary 

es  which  had  their  visible  beginning  as  it  went  by.     And  this 

ation,  at  the  least,  will  not  forget  to  note  with   a  special   mark 

its  calendar,  that  year  which  saw  anotlier  (rennaii  army  rntir 

:    which   saw   Paris  besieged  by  a  French  army,  and  tired  by 

:h  hands  ;  which  saw  a  king  of  Italy  enter  Uonie  as  his  caj>ital, 

ji   Italian  parliament  meet  there  at  his  order;  wliiuh    saw  the 

Qulated  controversies  which  hail  gathered  for   thirty   years   be- 

1  England  and  America  blotted  out  under  the  ai^neeiixnt  of  a 

Peace  Commission ;  and  which  saw,  in   a  night   and    day  of 
r,  the  destruction  of  the  very  heart  of  the  city  of  Chicago. 
e  **  Annus  Mirabilis  "  of  Dryden  has  no  such  record  of  marvels 
here. 

s  undoubtedly  true,  that  the  year  has  been  a  year  of  soia<;  great 
lilies,  the  memory  of  which  will  not  soon  be  lost.  HIo(Ml>be(l  in 
jc,  —  whether  of  national  enemies  at  the  hands  of  enemies,  or 
llow-countr}'men  at  the  lumds  of  countrymen  ;  the  de.str action 
e  monuments  of  Paris  in  a  trans|x>rt  of  Celtic  madness  ;  the 
)le  famines  in  Persia,  involving  such   suffering   as   in   modern 

we  had  forgotten,  and  reminding  us  of  the  wretchedness  which 
tian  civilization  has  subdued ;  the  atrocious  acme  of  crime  in  the 
listration  of  New  York,  staining  the  very  name  of  republican 


«d  MflordiBff  t»  Mdi  «r  Gmcpbm,  1b  Ik*  jaar  Iffl, by  PsopkiBTOks  or  tbb  Olu  axo  New,  la  Um  oIBm 
•ff  *•  UkmtaB  tff  Om«i«m,  At  WMkiagtoB. 


2  Old  and 


nsfin 


government ;  the  terrible  conflagrationsf 
Chicago  ;  and  the  destruction  in  the  Ait 
bravest  and  most  accomplished  seamel 
calamities  indeed,  not  to  be  softened,  « 
optimism  which  writes  the  true  history  • 

But  even  these  calamities  have  provec 
corn  of  noble  harvests  ;  and  of  those  t 
appears.  j 

The  man  would  be  a  fool,  who  at  any^ 
fidently  of  any  thing  in  the  future  of  f^    " 
no  i)erson   met  or    lieard  the  distingj'    i 
Cocpierel,  who  has  so  lately  addressed  liv 
without  the  conviction,  that,  as  these  hj 
France  are  better  than  they  have  been  i 
her  best  and  noblest,  in  punishment  foif 
In  that  dismemberment  of  France  was  j 
ness.  t 

The  famine  in  Persia,  and  the  conflai     ^, 
in  liistory  as  the  occasions  of  the  most  t 
tian  and  Israelite  benevolence  which  I 
and  encouraged  the  world.  V 

Crime  in  administration  did  reach 
when  it  reached  it,  it  met  its  fate.     It  \ . 
V)ered,  not  by  any  intervention  from  the  « 
laws  and  methods  of  that  republican  V     i* 
carelessness  it  had  been  born  and  had       | 
low  the  blows  of  any  "Vigilance  Coix      ^ 
grape-shot "  of  any  ambitious  young  j?      | 
liberty  restoring  any  penitent  Bourboi 
publican  laxness  had  permitted  the  d( 
republic  wrought  the  cure  in  the   c*- 
press,  and  in  the  levy  en  masse  of  thoj 
knows  how  to  order.     The  lesson  h:- 
seems  to-day,  as  if,  for  a  generation,  1* 
tainly,  it  is  bitter  enough  to  be  remei 

Are  we  wrong  in  supposing  that  tl 
ing  from  the  Arctic  regions,  saving  n( 
less  warm  or  relief  less  prompt  than 
and  the  West,  who  learned  in  a  r^ 
brothers  ? 

The  disasters  of  the  year,  then 
which  may  be,  very  likely  will  be, 


Old  (itifl  Xerr.  3 

iA<r  to  say.     Anil  it  is  vt»rv  i'«*rt.ii?i  iluit  th*?  vi-iir  li.i^  1..  .ii.  on 
k'h«»Ic.  a  y«*ar  nf  jinmii'ii*  inoiv  than  i-t*  ili^a^tiT. 
i«.-   »:'?»:.i''li-liiii«Til  i»f   Italy  ii>  a    uinti-l    kni:«l«im    uu.i.  :    ...'.^tj. 
!i.il  law  will  «lati*  ill  !iI.-ioiy  !*n»in  :::f  tH;a:»!i-iiMH'fi:   i-:    K   .:i.-  as 
.i;-i:al.  —  I'or  ilic  first  tim*-  >\wr  \'h"  i i.l  ..f  tii.*  \V.-^s  ::i  I".  :i:.:r,-. 

•  AIi»»»iii,  kin\:nl  llic  Lnmlianl-*,  aii-i  lii^  jr*  ai  LT'iit  i.il,  <  i.i.  imM, 
•li-ii    I  tlie  L«»iirnar«l  rulf.  I:aly  lia<  kintw.'i  n  »  ^n.  '.i  ■!  i.  ..i   ;.  ..:!«. 

•  -li'.-  kriMws  iiMW.  Ami  ili»'  w«iii.l,  i..-  a  ;-■  i:-.  •!•  -•.:.•  -^  .:•  ■  .•/.[ 
i;i  with  t!i».*  :»'a.-«'f:il  triumj.li  i»l*  >i:n|. !••('•.:;-:.  mi:  \ ,  \\..\  \,      :  :•.  - 

•  r.aly  fur  ;!*..•  '4t;ut!c  f»ri»'  liy  uii..  !i  -ii    •.  i-  liiii  i  ili-    r 

k.  Puicr  fi«»:;i    that    l»'ni|mr.il    tii:ti:i.-,   i.i    w..;*!!    liii-  ?•  i!     .•.-....•is 

tM.tii  ilit;  iwiii  tif  ilu*  K'Hiiaii  Sr.-. 

:  <  f.rniaiiy  it  i.>  iiiii'i»>.-iii!f  i«»  >]»»ak  \\.!.  •  •mfiii- n- .-,  v.  i  .  •  ^ip? 
il  ll  i-l.'-«i  wi;h  t!u'  lu^ut  nl'  Inr  i««:i.|5:'  -*-.  Iliil,  a!  :•:•■  !  i  •.  !:.• 
ivii.ir  AiK-  Nvaiiti-il :  all  >lit.'  tlari*!  -ay  ^h-     s  iniiil.  as!  iii-:.-.       1  i.-* 

•  aii'l  pravi'i*  fir  (ii.'rin.iii  iiiiiiy  liav**  ".  •  !i  aii-\\«:iM|,  .,'|il  Jii.ii*' 
a:i>".virr«.*'i.  Tii*.*  inii>i  '-a^'r  riiihu'.ia-'  ••:  ti-ii  \i.ir>;i:.»  m.'!  n-.i 
u-lv  f  »r  >'V'\i  •xti.Tual  lri;;:n:»!i^  a^  li.-  h.  ,>  lo-.lay. 

n.l  the  unity  "t  Ilaly,  ih"  iiiiiiy  i-l*  <i.-niiaiiy,  tli«*  r«»:i-.  !!  lai'.«»'i 
!».'  Aii^tri.iii  K:ii;'.r»%  t.-Vf!i  t"'..-  wrakih-N^  ul"  Frari«f.  a:i«l  lii-  n-w 
i^:y  of  Sj.ain.  _::vi-  in«»rf  li--'-  f»r  lln*  |M»->ilii!i:y  ..f  ••:!!.•  I'n]',  1 

•  -  ••f   E:;r«»jM-/'  '\l''  LTH'at  ii i'y  at  this  iii«.iii'ii'  .•!'  •"•i.-  c  :^:'.:/  i- 

lif  :li'/  WMiM,  :iia:i  ha-^  «\i-:'  i  >iin-r  ili.-  il-aili  ••:'  11  :. 

:ijli-:i  ^:a;c.-iut:i  '.v.niM  li.i:«iiy  -ay  iliat  tin-  y.-n-  .  '. 

lur-i.  '  -k  i:i  Kiu'Iaii-l.  IJu:  lo  |i.mi:iI(?  IhimI  in  u-.n-  >■  .:  . 
••:"  ':.«•  la^t  M'Vrn  yra!>i»f  Ilii^li>ii  |M»liiir>  |.i.iiu!-.--  :;... 
1  t'l  il  any  I'tjual  jM-ri*"!  in  li=  r  [la.Nt.  Mnvla:nl  --li-'W -. 
•,  a  ;  .''.vi-r  f»r  ivct«n>irii«:i«»ii.  f»r  a'lapii:!^'  Ipt  i*i-: 
n-'^c-i::*-^,  'vhifh  evrry  na*i'»n  in  tlir\vi;'.<l  nil*  - 
iia::'.»n.  In  tin-  fnit.'ri^vmy  ••:*  iln*  |)ri'Sfni  li-iir  n'«:i,.:i ; 
.nuiiun  '»f  tiiat  j»n\vir. 

vcu  in  tin.*  ]»'.-r|if:nal  waifair  uf  Soulli  Ann'iica,  ]Ha«f  Ii;i-  i.  •  ■mil 
.'  LopfZ  t'rll.      An«l  lh»*  yi-ar  l**Tl  si-fs  ilif  in.iii.:iiia:i'iii  ..i'  j.iai- 

i!nan.ij»aTii«ii  in  Iirazil. 

t  l:"inv,  wi-  liavf  I'l.-rtainly  wrouirlit  a  *^n'u\  t  w.lv'-iiii»nili*-  work 
a-  i«a.>ini*>s  of  r».-«:im.striiLti<m.  Wit  hav«'  knit  nji  n-n  a  l'«'\v  •-{"  Mr. 
Vis'-y  J»j!inson'>  (lri»i»j)».Ml  .stituh»'s.  Kaili  nt*  iln'ni,  ala-!  \i.\->  m^t  us 
;  than  nini',  bfcaiise  tlu-y  \vti\:  nut  laki-n  in  liiih-,  a^  hi-;  i-ariy 
iinj  ini'-:ht  have  tau;^ht  him  tht-y  wnnM  cn^t  us.     Thi:  lii-- nation 

».arnt*st  in  the  protei.'tion  ul'  thus*;  l>ut  just  nuw  it-*  uanU.  nu\r 
itizt-ns  ;  that  there  is  no  prusjufrity  to  luiy  Stat«*  wjn-n*  nn-n  tlo 
put  their  own  hands  to  the  ploujjh  and  their  own  .>h(juldurs  tu  tlio 


1  a  > 

r.:!i. 

,  II:' 

iii.— 

■    tci 

i:n- 

rl.  i 

•\.  ry 

.[•  ...• 

i^  to 

u-l;. 

v.::!i 

iiuu 

-  a;iv 

4  Old  and  New. 

wheel ;  that  the  planting  States  cannot  seduce  capital  to  make  i1 
home  with  them,  and  at  the  same  moment  insult,  threaten,  or  kill  tb 
capitalist,  —  these  lessons  are  gradually  working  their  way,  even  in  th 
darkest  corners  of  the  land. 

The  next  year  has  it  for  its  duty  to  enforce  universal  education  i 
those  States  at  the  charge  and  under  the  oversight  of  the  nation. 

These  are  certainly  cheerful  omens.     Not  the  least  among  thai 
is  the  happy  peace  which  now  reigns  over  the  world.     We  can  wif 
our  readers  a  merry  Christmas,  with   the  certainty  that  for  once 
peaceful  world  is  celebrating  the  birth  of  the  Prince  of  Peace. 

«'  No  war  or  battle's  sound 
Is  heard  the  world  around ; 
The  trampet  speaks  not  to  the  armed  throng  '* 


MIDNIGHT,  1871-2. 

The  New  Year  comes,  and  the  Old  Year  goes ; 
Thus  the  life-gates  open  and  close. 
Who  stands  between  the  death  and  birth  ? 
I  only,  of  all  the  earth. 

My  life  has  neither  space  nor  date ; 
I  come  and  pass  in  a  breath  of  fate  \ 
I  am  neither  of  Seventy-one  nor  two, 
Neither  Old  nor  New. 

Bom  with  the  New  Year,  dead  with  the  Old ; 
By  my  birthnight  peal  my  knell  is  tolled ; 
For  never  stood  wight  on  a  narrower  shelf 
Than  that  where  I  stand  mysel£ 

Pve  a  kiss  alike  for  cradle  and  bier. 
And  I  greet  them  both  with  an  equal  cheer : 
Peace  to  the  Year  whose  toils  are  done  ! 
Peace  to  the  Year  begun  1 

Mjfts.  F.  H.  Goo 


Six  of  One  hy^Half  a  Dozen  of  the  Other. 


SIX  OF  ONE 

BT 
HALF  A  DOZEN  OF  THE  OTHER. 


CHAPTER  in. 

IlklATBE  they  are,  or  will  be.  But 
that  isn't  for  you  to  decide,  my  dear 
file-leader.  You  have  had  your  little 
prance,  and  may  step  aside.  It  is  my 
turn  now.  I  may  tell  those  early 
particulars  about  Rachel  Hollo|r  and 
I  Mark  Hinsdale,  or  I  may  get  interest- 
ed in  some  other  little  bit  of  the  patch- 
.   work,  and  put  all  my  stitches  into  that. 

rAt  any  rate,  I  mean  to  have  my  say  all 
to  myself. 

You  may  —  I  mean  the  public  now 
—  conjecture  shrewdly  from  this  scrap 
of  self-assertion,  that  one  of  the  three 
woman  concerned  has  got  the  pen. 
*  There,  again,  may  be  a  mistake.  As 
to  this  matter  of  will  and  way,  and 
speaking  one's  mind,  it  is,  after  all, 
with  men  and  women  very  much  as 
it  is  with  the  title  of  our  tale,  —  six  of 
one  and  half  a  dozen  of  the  other. 

Of  course  we  all  know  something 
important  and  considerable  about  it, 
or  it  would  not  take  half  a  dozen  of 
us  to  tell  the  story.  "  Old  and  New  " 
is  turned  into  a  witness-box ;  the 
whole  truth  is  to  come  out,  and,  willy 
nilly,  we  are  all  haled  in.  As  for  the 
unities,  who  is  afraid  for  them  in  a 
oourt  of  justice,  though  there  should 
be  twenty  witnesses  ?  The  unities  — 
wlien  there  are  any  —  take  care  of 
themselves. 
I  But  did  you  ever  see  an  illustration 
i  of  *■  Four-in-Hand,"  in  a  certain  New- 
Yurk  edition  of  Hood's  "Up  the 
Bhine  "  ?  I  am  free  to  confess  that 
our  little  literary  team  reminds  me 
strongly  of  it.  It  is  a  capital  thing, 
and  illustrates  a  great  deal  beyond  its 
immediate  sabject     The  traces  are 


very  long;  quite  unlimited,  appar- 
ently; and  the  two  leaders,  having 
sprung  airily  up  a  steep  ascent,  stand 
comfortably  on  a  bit  of  level  landing, 
facing  about' with  the  most  lightsome 
and  cheerful,  not  to  say  aggravating 
air, —  limbs,  ears,  and  eyes  instinct 
with  consciousness  of  the  most  utter 
freedom,  —  upon  the  poor  wheelers 
laboring  against  the  hill. 

The  wheelers  are  going  to  have  the 
tug.  We  can  skip  up  blithely,  and 
leave  it  all  to  them.  But,  if  wo  leave 
them  the  strain,  wo  must  leave  them 
the  glory  too.  The  best  horses  are 
put  into  the  thills.  We  may  curvet; 
but  we  may  by  no  means  work  things 
up.  That  chance  is  not  for  us.  We 
must  keep  out  of  the  climaxes. 

Henrietta  Sylva  put  on  her  hat  one 
afternoon,  and  went  ovc^r  to  old  Miss 
Burgess's.  By  "old  Miss  Burgess," 
Idont  mean  Jane.  I  never  could  bear 
to  Iiave  people  under  any  sort  of  mis- 
apprehension for  a  moment,  even  for 
the  sake  of  an  after  agreeable  sur];)ri8e. 

Old  Miss  Burgess  is  the  aunt.  Jane 
is  the  niece.  Though,  from  living  so 
long  and  so  quietly  with  so  prim  and 
quaint  a  piece  of  the  last  generation,, 
Jane  had  perhaps  cauj^ht  a  flavor  of 
the  liist  generation  herself,  and  mixed 
it  up  with  her  nineteen  years  in  a  cer- 
tain gentle  and  odd  suggestion  of  old- 
maidishness,  that  joins  itself  to  her 
bloom  and  prettiness  like  a  bit  of 
thyme  or  lavender  set  in  a  bouquet ; 
and  she  took  on  something  aunt-like 
in  her  ways  among  the  girls.  That 
is  why  Nettie  Sylva,  I  think,  liked 
her,  and  came  to  her  with  all  her 
little  snarls  that  she  could  not  pick 


K  * '^  :/  Oi.-f  '.'i  E\'  z  r<oa  :/  tie  Otker, 

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-.-•■■-..       .-     .  I,..:  ?n'  .T  -?".'_-:":'.•=■  :  -zrei-'j  strands  I 

-    .1.   .-      :.      ._      -..::  Z-r.-7:..^-  rr>  rrr.:.  rsriiv  credit 

::.  -        .   r  : :  ■.  -      7.r      .•-- -  :'.:  j.   1.::  t      I:    ir   Z-~~   much 

;.  — -  :^  :...-.       --r.  -=-.:.  il.  ;  :_•  I.-.^r.  —  rTri.  our  thin 

;  .•  -•.:■:..--      .  -.  ::.-      l-fr  ir  "ir.i:.-   -t  ::::•>  drlnri 

:-.*  •■    .-.    -:.:  .-.-.•:.    :-:'.     -.:':  rj.:L\-.~r.    r"..-rr  i- lirilraaystead 

;.   .  ;      ..-.'.:    -V::.    •.:.-..,:    :  .^        'J.l  Mr- i.-r^r-r -Jir:  XerneSyl 

'*'  ...         ■   -;./•-•.■..:;.•.•::;.-.•..:  .-.I-.  :.:   :!.r    I..:r.   r.rr  y.ifi>^5  p>ushed  ' 

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'i<':.  ; .  '    ..i"  ■;  _^  i. .'..-:  r  .r."r  ■.»:"  i'.^  ••a;,        •*  Jii-.-  i.^s  ^  'i.r  a'«rc«al  :his  afti 

'/.'•;    ..  ■  ;., ..  ;  •  -.  -'.i/.y  '.'[''.'-j',"  t«r«r*.;..  li  '•:..'  .■?'..•-- >^:L     "  Dur    walk  in;  I 

<):.       :•.  ;i   :'.':i.:-:    •/  ;*    v.  ir;.'!  -^iiji-  o:;  y/:r  tijiii;:-.  aa  i  star  and  drii 

111*1  .    'J...    i/ J  y   i:i   Ij^t   ;.'.*ri'-ij.    t^r  tvi*.     JS'iv'il  be  j^r^j^-ir  ^iad  to  see  y- 

^•/•j.j.i'^    l.'i;;i«:    h',.'/j  a  w.'ilk;  or  iu  a  wii-u    -li.;    coiuls.     You're    quite 

«:i.  u   v.i.r-r    ".viri'l;  or  ov»:r    t.lj«;    Hrh  .s'.r.'iiij^er." 

or  tiji-   Jr'*;jiji;.^-ii'Mnl,    iu  tiif;  ilii-*li  of         Xotti«;  Sylva  kut-w     what    the  0 

lt«'j-     v.ojI.,   —  .J;i[ii;'.-i    riri'/oili     hr«v.va  laly    ni<.*aiit.     Jaiu?    had     not    goi 

h.iir  W'lui'l  njlJli;  aii'l  wavir   it.-«<-lf  into  to  Kun>i>o.     Wo  liavo    not   quite  fl 

a  .n\\    iiii.ijjr'-s  an  1    li^litm-ss  about  rived  at  the  time,  tin >ugh  it  Wks as 

Ir'-r  ImkIh:!'!,  an<l  ptTJiaji.-i  ^id   jiiislied  wn  iiiif^'lit  b(;  near  it,   wlien  one  Ci 

Ir.uU  ill  In-r  tor;^i-iliiln"ss  from  ofV  lier  krave  word  with    the  family,  or  wi* 

«l'li<  .1' ■  iitni>li'M;  and    then  yon    saw  the  j^erving-maid,  as    one  puts  one 

oni*  111'  I  liuM-  ai-rid'Mit.s  i»f  loveliness  tlial  j^Ioves  on,  —  *•  I  am  going  over  in  th 

m-viT  happi-ii  in  lliesf?  ileliherat.»*ly  got-  al'iernoon's  catapult;  shall  ]»e  hack^ 

i.p  (Iiy.i.     ( )nri',  gjrl.s  were  liable  to  be-  tea,*'  —  take  a  bhoot  through  tlie  Li 

wiirliiii;.^   lilllc   un(*on.s<!i(ius  ehang(is  ;  erjiool  tunnel  and  a  half-hourly  ballo< 

N.iiun*  li:ii|   ber  t»wn  eunning  tritiks  to    London,  —  make    a   few    friend 

autl  ni.mniMM  wil.Ii  them;    I'xcitement  calls,  and  hurry  back  at  dusk.     . 
nii»\(r,i,..liMliem  np,  tossed  them  into        No.     Miss  Durgess  only  meant, - 

pnilv  bewlldirmenls  of  arrangement  iu  the   old-fashioned  way,  used  whc 

and  rolnr,  and  gave,  the  bM)ker-tm    lit-  nobody    went    more    than   a   mile   < 

111' bli-^sed  revelaiions  and  surprises:  two  from   home,  except   with    gra\ 

but  now  there  must  Im*  bewilderment  preparation   of  scrip   and     staff,  an 

all  the  tinie;  they  must  turn    away  making  one's    will    beforehand,    fc 

frnni  their  lonking-glasses  all  tluffedup  weighty  cause  of  life  or  love  or  prop 

with  a  iliui.ly  confusion  of  can^fully  erty  —  that  Jane  had  gone  for  a  wal 

diNhi^Vi'lIed  charms,  that  will  not  let  iu  the  village. 


Six  of  One  by  Half  a  Dozen  of  the  Other. 


it  wonder  you  didnH  come 
r  somewheres^"  said  the  old 
nring  her  glasses  down  ^gain, 
ig  over  a  dropped  stitch. 
<t  be  in  to  Squire  Holley's." 
>oe  of  these  three  girls  — 
jess,  Nettie  Sylva,  or  Rachel 
missed  another,  she  was 
•e  to  turn  up  in  company 
bird.  They  were  as  differ- 
three  angles  of  a  scalene  tri- 
l  just  as  essential  to  each 
he    making   up;   especially 

like    this,    when    a   grand 

afoot,  invitations  given  and 

ind  gowns  to  be  decided  on ; 

[ling  of  feminine  tactics  and 

war  for  the  campaign. 
Sylva  came  to  Jane  Bur- 
tee  little  moral  lectures  and 
iel ;  but  then  in  a  sly,  keen 
le  often  turned  round  upon 
i  they  finished  their  talk, 
quite  as  good  as  she  got. 
what  on  earth  am  I  to  do 
Horace  ?  ''  she  says  to  Jane, 
v»T  the  bureau  while  that 
•  y>:iiig  laJy  ToMlmI  up  and 
Ij-r  sh^wl  and  j^loves  ;  Net- 
.*iint',  taking  sidelong  peeps 
kiri'j-gla^s.  tryin^^  to  examine 
!)r'» jlf,  which  she  was  never 
i>ded    with    when    she   saw 

he  fox  and  the  goose  and  tlie 

♦•••rn.     If  I  say  no,  and  stay 

tlun-'s   my    own   poor  little 

•::'.  you  see,  — if  it's  pretty  to 

I  I  go  witli  anybody  else,  — 

::r:iiiou.s  I    wouldn't  there  be 

t:    and   a    rumpus  ?     And  if 

ike  to  go  all   that  six  miles 

ali»ne.  1  shall  either  have  to 

:  into  a    snowbank  and  run 

keep  up  such  a  squabble  as  I 

ren't  conscience  or  constitu- 

■r  else  hear   all   he's  got   to 

[  I  ain't  ready,  Jane  Bur- 


gess!    I've  quarrelled  with  him  till 
I'm  tired." 

"  What  do  you  quarrel  with  him 
for?" 

"What  else  can  I  do?  It  isn't 
safe  to  stay  made  up  with  him  half  an 
hour .  It's  the  only  way  a  girl  has  to 
get  time  for  herself.  There's  no  fair- 
ness in  it.  A  man  can  stand  off,  and 
look,  and  consider,  till  he's  made  up 
his  mind ;  and  then  he  can  come  for- 
ward, and  *  be  particular ; '  and  you 
can't  let  him  begin  to  be  the  least  bit 
particular  without  giviug  him  claims; 
and  how  on  earth  you're  to  be  fair  to 
yourself  and  decent  with  him,  I  can't 
make  out ! " 

^^  I  suppose  the  girl  has  the  same 
time  to  look  and  consider  that  the 
man  has,"  said  quiet  Jane. 

"  Yes,  indeed  !  And  then  what  if 
he  never  begins  ?  I  tell  you  it's  all  on 
one  side,  and  I  believe  I  won't  have 
any  thing  to  do  with  it !  " 

And  Nettie  pouted,  and  felt  the 
tears  coming  into  her  eyes,  and  saw 
the  pins  on  Jane's  cushion  begin  to 
glitter  and  grow  big;  and  then  she 
glanced  round  into  the  glass  again,  to 
find  out  how  she  looked  when  she  was 
crying. 

"  I  think  it  is  ordered,  if  we  only 
try  to  do  what  is  right, "  said  Jane 
virtuously. 

"  Yes  ;  and  how  are  you  going  to 
know?  If  you  look  at  a  thing  all 
round,  there  are  so  many  rights.  It's 
right  for  me  to  work  nij'self  out,  and 
find  out  what  I  am,  and  what  I  want, 
and  let  him  see.  I've  no  business  to 
be  all  Sylva  and  no  Nettie,  till  after 
I'm  married,  and  then  drop  it,  as  I've 
got  to  do.  And  he  ought  to  be  will- 
ing; it's  for  his  good:  he  ought  to 
take  time  for  his  own  sake;  but  men 
never  do.  They  are  always  in  a 
hurry." 

It  is  funny  to  see  how  a  girl  who 


Six  of  Om  by  Half  a  Dozen  of  the  Other. 


^ 


fy.rzjhn  Vi  hart  iSsm  to  man^e  with 
VI  r  ii-ii-  ta;ici  immediatelj  of  the 
» :.  Ic  *^x  in  a  g^nenlLnng  way,  and 
f^^.»  a!^  if  §he  bad  all  mankind  at 
'.:...>  ":>-yL  her  hand§:  and  rice  rersa, 

y*  *-.'..  ;:  i*  trie  in  a  6en<e.  They 
c:-  <i::d  to  earh  other,  representa- 
•  -  r,'/  ^'A  irxcl:j.'?iTeIv,  as  man  and  wo- 
;;.:-•-  ;  i*  w  alwav."?.  in  each  new  ex- 
T»i  r  r.'.'r:.':.  A<lam  and  Ere  again,  wh at- 
tr-.-r  'rLr^  tiiev  may  happen  to  hare 
i.»rr:,  '.:-ri-»ten«r<L 

-•  'i";i«:re  i.-*  one  thing  that  is  always 
T.y:r.."  m'.'i  Jane.  '"Not  to  do  any 
•.;  .:,'^.  ever  i-o  little,  to  ^Iraw  a  man 
'f...  ".^'r^-*  yoii  are  sure  you  are"  — 
>  e  j»a'j!4^:d  fehyly,  with  a  bit  of  a 
h  >-?!  rising. 

-•  ."Smit-slied  yourself!  "  said  Nettie 
}rf'.'iiy.  *'  A  lid  how  are  you  going  to 
krio'.v  whf-n  you  ^/re  smarjhed  ?  Or 
1.0-.V  are  yoii  ever  likely  to  be  till  you 
have  kn^K;k^'l  roijm<l  a  little?  That's 
the  fK/int.  You  r-an't  buy  a  pair  of 
j-f.v:^  without  trying  "em  on.  It's 
ri'lioiilouHl" 

."*i}ie  began  again  presently. 

••  .Mr.i.  Sylva  says  it's  very  ^shal- 
low '  of  mo  not  to  know  my  own 
fuirj^l.  Thar/s  a  great  word  of  my 
f<r-prriothers.  But  if  1  were  shallow, 
r.-.tily,  I  don't  think  I  should  have 
ariv  trouble.  I  tell  you  it's  just  sound- 
in.,'  and  (h>ul)ting  and  considering 
til  >.t  makes  mo  aet  so.  There  are  so 
lu'.iuy  sirles  to  every  thing;  and  some- 
b'»'v  I  always  see  the  opposite  one. 
'I  li  if.'s  the  r<;a^on  1  quarrel;  and  then, 
a.'iiii,  that's  the  reason  I  make  up." 

•  n  I  iinaf.^ined  I  ever  might  marry 
a  p'T-'on,*'  said  Jane  thoughtfuH}', 
*•  I  >IiMulrln't  want  to  have  all  these 
li  tl«'  fusses  b»*forehand.  L  shouldn't 
till  Ilk  ho  would  depend  so  much  on 
III"  afterwards." 

*•  I  rlon't  want  to  be  depended  on. 
I  want  hirn  to  be  thankful  every  day 
for  what  he  gets,  as  we  all  are  ;  not 


knowing  liow  kmg  it's  going  to  lai 
Thar*  Ckristian." 

^CBristian  for  kim,"  said  Ja 
quietly. 

^*  And  if  I  sanctify  him,  what  \h 
ter  can  I  do?  That  brings  up  t 
*  ordering'  again.  Do  you  belie 
people  are  cut  out  for  each  oth( 
Jane  ?  I  don't.  If  they  are,  I  shot 
like  to  know  who  does  it.'' 

'*  I  think  the  Lord  does,"  said  Jai 
"  At  any  rate,  he  brings  people  ' 
gether." 

"  It's  fixed  very  queer,"  said  Net 
meditatively,  with  a  puzzled    fro^ 
knit  up  into  her  forehead.     "  Becai 
you  can't  allow  for  the  growing, 
has  to  be  all  settled  before  you  rea 
come  to  any  thing.     As  if  things  h 
been  fitted  on  to  me  when  I  was  £ 
years   old   to   last    all    my   lifetii 
That's   no   way  for  —  anybody  — 
cut  out !     And  I  don't  believe  ai 
body  can.     How  do  I  know  what 
shall    be  ten   years   firom   now? 
Horace  Vanzandt,  either  ?      It  is 
awful  long  measuring !     Now  I  thi 
of  it,  that  was  the  way  mother  u 
to  do  with  my  gowns  when   she  f 
came.     She  mside  them  down  to 
heels,  for  fear  I  should  outgrow  th( 
And  I  hated  them :  they  were  ne 
right.     I  won't  begin   life  so,  all  o 
draggle,  because  I  shall  be  up  big 
by  and  by ;  neither  do  I  want  to 
left  anyways  unprovided  for  or  out 
the  cold,  when  I  do  get  bigger. 
isn't  fair  !     We  ought  to  be  made 
as  to  keep  pretti/  longer,   and  h 
some  chances  !  "     And  Nettie  em 
as  usual,  with  a  look  in  the  glass. 

"  The  best  way  is  to  make  thi 
that  can  be  let  out  and  let  down 
tlie  growing,"  Jane  said.  "Thep 
more  in  everybody  than  they  ki 
of,  I  suppose.  And  the  Lord,  mail 
the  measures,  knows  it  all,  doe 
he?" 


Six  of  One  by  Half  a  Dozen  of  the  Other. 


j|"I  presume^  if  s  proper  to  say  he 
I  ^>e<,"  said  Nettie.  '^  Jane!  what  aie 
l^-»u  cjoing  to  wear  Thursday  ? '' 
J  **  yVj  stone-colored  brilliantine,  with 
Slue  ribbons,  and  some  white  chrys- 
anthemums in  my  hair." 

"  There,   now !     That's  jusfr  you  ! 
AH  so  easy  and  quiet,  and  ready  be- 

ibrehand,  and  no-kind-of-consequence- 
dta: :  and,  after  all,  you'll  be  the  very 
prettiest  one.  Itachel  is  going  to  be 
,  tron.ierful,  though.  Did  she  tell  you  ? 
[That  new  dazzle-blue  merino,  with 
swan's-down  round  the  neck  and 
sleeves." 

••  I  saw  it     What  is  yours  ?  " 
*    *•  Crimson,  with  a  flash  in  it.     Tea- 

iiQse-bads  and  coral  flowers.  My  roses 
are  jn^t  blooming  on  purpose.  I  shall 
carry  them  in  a  box  on  wet  cotton- 
jW.»l.  Won't  Horace  get  into  a  fry 
Iwh Lie  he's  waiting  down  stairs  for  me 
Jto  jm:  them  on  ?  And  then,  while  he's 
tetrini?  over  it,  I'll  be  promising  for 
fcali  :he  dances  to  everybody  that  asks. 
[He  always  loses  the  next  thing  while 
h-r'i  rt-VIling  al)out  the  last.  He's  got 
l:-ti  *  .  i«^.irn.  Jane  !  I'll  just  tell  you 
wr.a:.  —  I've  as  g'xnl  a  mind  as  ever 
wjjs  :.i  take  Jeff  Fleming  in  the  pair- 

J.*:.-  clored  up  suddenly  ;  then  as 
i;'ii\ly  calmed  down  and  smiled. 

••¥...■.1  think  he  won't?  We'll 
•^r.  Jane,  you're  altogether  too 
*•:•::;♦- 1.  Yo:i*re  just  as  bad,  the  other 
^  I  am.  And  there's  one  thing, 
»re  say  you've  no  idea  of  it,  — 
i  •ubr  if  any  thing  makes  much 
;  0  to  you,  after  all.  It  hap- 
t  ^K?  J«.-:f,  Ix'cause  you've  had 
y-»'ir  ellx)w  all  your  days,  and 
ir  out.'  The  truth  is.  ijou  a'n- 1 
:  f  .»r  anylKxly  in  particular  so 
a-j  just  f<ir  a  pattern.  You'll 
-:  and  mild,  and  you'll  be  mar- 
i.d  you'll  housekeep,  just  he- 
's all  a  part  of  perfect  living 


— *I  .1. 
W-r  I  ■ 


r*^i.  ,v 

\  ri:i-.r  1 


for  a  woman ;  and  thafs  what  you're  .^ .^^ 
in  love  with.  Jeff  will  do  as  well  to  "^ 
hang  it  on  to  as  anybody  ;  and  you'll 
live  and  die  in  a  frame  of  mind  like 
a  pan  of  milk.  And  you'll  set,  and 
you'll  just  turn  to  solid,  tranquil  bon- 
ny-clabber. Now,  /'m  going  to  be 
either  butter  or  cheese ;  I  haven't 
made  my  mind  up  which.  I've  got 
'em  both  in  me.     Isn't  that  queer?" 

And  she  followed  Jane  down  stairs 
into  the  corner  sitting-room,  where 
Miss  Burgess  was  cutting  up  spice- 
cake  for  tea ;  and  of  course  there  was 
not  much  more  said  except  about  how 
her  mother  did,  and  whether  the  doc- 
tor thought  old  Deacon  Chowle  was 
any  better,  and  how  Jane  had  found 
Mrs.  Hoi  ley  this  afternoon ;  Mrs. 
Holley  being  an  invalid,  and  so 
always  a  staple  of  conversation.  And 
at  six  o'clock,  the  starlight  already 
shining  over  the  snow,  Xettie  set  off 
for  home,  meeting  Jeff  Fleming  at 
the  gate  as  she  went  out,  and  en-  j 
countering  Horace  Vanzandt  after-  ^ 
wards  at  the  post-office,  as  she  had 
every  reason  to  expect  she  nn;[j:lir,  and 
letting  him  walk  home  with  lior  for 
such  consolation  as  he  coul  1  get  by 
the  way,  with  all  her  little  di^fensive 
prickles  set  up  and  aL^rt  wliichcver 
way  he  tried  to  stroke  her. 

If  Horace  Vanzandt  had  not  been 
of  the  inventive  order  of  mind,  fond 
of  puzzles,  and  given  to  combating 
little  wearying  obstacLjs  with  a  most 
fine  and  patient  and  delicate  ingenu- 
ity, the  mere  man  that  was  in  him 
must  have  revolted  long  ago  at  Net- 
tie's whims,  and  thrown  the  wlnde 
thing  over.  But  I  tliink  tlie  ni«*cha- 
nician  could  not  give  up  tlie  fascinat- 
ing perplexity.  The  more  he  was 
baffled,  the  more  the  wheels  would 
not  run  and  the  cogs  would  not  catch, 
the  more  he  was  irresistibly  drawn  to 
pursue  the   reason  why,  —  the  more 


lU  Six  of  One  by  Half  a  Dozen  of  the  Other. 

liicoly  and   curiously  he  tried   time  the  comb  stroked  through,  just  pro 

after  time  to  oilapt  his  experiments,  ing  that  it  was  not  a  tangle,  but  lea 

If  h<' llun;:;  every  thing  by  in  a  |>et,  ing  every  little  curl   and   twist    t 

it  wiis  only   to  make   himself   more  re-assert  itself  in  its  wake,  precisely 

work   in    repairing  intricate  and  in-  as  the  running  water  would  if  yoc 

volvr.l  <l:iina^«'s,  wlii*n  he  c«ime  hack,  drew  your  fingers  through   it.     And 

p<Mjiti>nt  iuul  p:itiont,  as  in  the  nature  then  Ilachel  gathered  it  all  up  in  her 

of  liini  li<;  could  not   help  doing,  to  two  little  hands,  that  had  to  clutch^ 

his  t;k^k  again.  and  grasp  to  do  it,  and  gave  it  a  turn 

one  wa}',  and  set  in  a  little  trident 

CIIAPTKR  IV.  ^^  t»he\\  to  hold  it,  and  after  that  a  . 

turn  another  way,  burying  the  tiny 

IIaciikl  IIoLLKYHatrea«lingtoher  comb,  and  now  a  long,  slender  hair-^ 

motlHT   ill    tlii^    little    hednjom    tliat  pi»  was  pushed   in;    and   so   round  ^^ 

opiMH-d    from  til.?   long   sittin.i^-room,  and  round,  here   and   there,  caught  ^^ 

until     i'lVii     o'rJ.Mtk;     then    lioxana  and  looi>ed  and  fastened  just   as   it 

carni?  in    with    Mrs.  Ilolley's  t<'a,  and  seemed  to  be  determined   to  go,  until'* 

U.i.li-l   ki.-v.l  l|..r  mother,  anil  went  it  was  all  one  beautiful,  bewildering,       y^ 

oif  tM   Inr  own   room   to  dress.     For  shining  heap,  lying  gracefully  around ^  ^ 

tlii.w.i.Tliiirs.hiyeviming;  and  Mark  the  natural  curves  of  her  head,  and  -  ^^^^ 

Ii;MMl:ilr  wri-i  t.>  come  for  her  at  half-  di\»pping   with    a    lovely,    glistening.     ^ 

jKi'f.  ^ix,  t-»  drive  her  to  North  Den-  shimmer  about  her  brows  and  temples.  ^^   ^ 

m.irk  f.»r  (h-  .-^bM^'h-ride  danee.  Vou  can't  do  it  wi:h  tails  and  eu^Iiiun.-**  ^^^^^ 

Ita.h.l    Il.,lley*s  toilet  was  even  a  and  hot  slate-poucils,  and  you  nei^di/t^  ^  .^ 

pn-tti.T  thin;,' tiian  the  result;  but  we  try;    liachel    llolicy  just    hud    diLit*^^^'^ 

hav.-n»ri;^httnbMikatit, — to  see  the  J»^ir>    ^^"^    it    ^^'^    a    pit-oe    of    It-.r.       ^^ 

fivsh  pink  of  her  face,  antl  the  white  J*i"^*  i>urgt»ss's  was  pr»^:ty  in  its  .-H^ir.®^^^^ 

of  h.T  arms   and  slmuMers   as  they  m^Klest.  sluulowy   s:n^»u:;int:?s.     Wliji^     ^^^ 

eaiii"  ilcar  ami  bloomiu^c  livm   under  ^^'^-'^^  ^  y^'^^  i'*i  iv-.op  wlia:  is  y...'jr  -^wa '/ 

till?  .la-ilii's  ofi'iild  water  and  the  Sv^ft  Xhon   cvorvw  iy    woaM    have    »«i.ue- '      ^^ 

wrap;.in^  and  pa:tiiii:s  of  the  towt-l ;  tbi:i-:.  '»^ 

to  w.tU'h  h.T  biM-!i   her   li::le   ^e:   of        A  bi.ie  ribo ':i  wx-  drtiwa  tarj-:j'i   '^^  ' 


j^»ai 


■!s.    aii.l     hear    i\w    i«ure,    ir  <  r  -    to  ^::u-:i.  a- i  ::vl  ::i  a  i.::ie   ..-"l-imv  ® 

.     *  .  .      ,  ,  ,  .  •  ■  ne  ^^V 


t^oUii  I   ill  i:    iv-.I-i   of 

ili.:r   p^r:Vc::-.':i 

aiul  e:i:ii'  a  ■><  *.    ".m: 

w\i,:i  :>..'  I..:  I J 

pi.jk    >.:.  \    :s  0.1.   a:: 

I   :!:.i:  s^i.i-!::-:.' 

of  liaii-  i<   :  »---■  1    .>v" 

V  L   ^'V.T   ::,  i  !:.» 

:he   C'^ -i  ■  ^   v'^  -^    • 

::"->v'    :a    a    :"..  :: 

ua>^-:. —  :'■.    :,     '  I 

.L  ■.:  V .  ,■:  :.'  :j.!vj 

,i:Ii.>r*s    V.'  •-::'.    - 

.    :    .;  ■':    y  -x    ^ 

vp   a:    .:-v    ;      .     • 

■   ■  :    :■:  :'.  ':    :--;C 

v^-  w::]: '.::     i  . 

•        KS     ./    :  ::/ 

U-:y.^.:  .-. 

iav-!i./>     -. :  ■•  1  ■ 

:>.."'      1:   :  ;- 

a.:  I  ^'.'■.-.r'". 

/     ..■  >:..  .  L-. 

an  Ji  :i  -Vl*    V  fc. 

.  .    \     ..    u      :'.:  ' 

Ml  !::.!o    .'i'-fc.  ..  ■: 

y   ..:    :   :!:j.: 

al  :•.»■*;  -.:  :•- : 

.    :  ■   va:-.   j.^.1 

:j..-.v  -v.  , 


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b.^..  .  ^ 

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saul 

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l"* '    \S\^'^ 

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►-•1     -■     ^> 

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':»:auLTv.     Z-'.-a  iLiji   Ii.-ia.L 


Six  of  One  by  Half  a  Dozen  of  the  Other.  11 


I  not  to  see  it,  after  all,  — just  so, 

-night. 

JShe  turned  round  with  her  candle 
Iher  hand,  to  go  dovrn  stairs.  A 
Aid  step  came  up  as  she  opened  her 
I  ^.  Koxana's  frightened  face  met 
r    . 

1  0  Rachel,  for  the  land's  sake 
1  xy  down  I  Yuur  ma  ! " 
t  Iffrs,  Holley  was  "  taken  faint,"  as 
i  kana  called  it.  They  gave  her 
:  ndy,  and  sent  the  hoy,  Silas,  for 
-  i  doctor.  Rachel  rubbed  her  motli- 
IH  hands,  and  sent  Roxy  for  the 
1 0  brick  from  the  oven,  to  put  to 
t :  cold  feet.  She  bathed  her  head 
iVh  bay-water,  an<l  gave  her  care- 
,  ly  some  drops  of  hartshorn  to* smell 
1,  And  then,  while  she  came  slowly 
Ick  to  something  like  her  usual  frail, 
,'licate  life  again,  yet  with  a  new, 
.^ange  look  that  shot  a  fearful  intui- 
fn  straight  to  Rarhel's  heart,  and 
^de  it  seem  an  unreckoned  duration 
^experience  since  vshe  had  tied  on  her 
08  ribbon  so  unconsciously  there 
)  stairs, —  a  look  as  of  one  who  leaves 
De  d<X)r,  l)ut  turns  back  for  a  thing 
>t  to  be  fetched  or  done, —  Rachel 
it,  and  knelt,  and  stood,  by  or  over 
IT.  tending,  and  listening,  and  whis- 
L'ring,  and  making  little  loving  signs, 
>r  half  an  hour,  alone  with  her,  while 
bev  waited.  For  IMrs.  Holley  had 
tebly  motioned  to  Roxana  to  go  awa}'. 

I  cannot  tell  you  of  that  half-hour, 
fc  was  a  half-hour  between  two  dear 
Juls;  a  little  time  God  gave  them  to 
ve  in,  —  to  go  back  into  from  either 
ide  and  meet  in,  as  the  heart  an<l 
tCTxtt  an<l  fulness  of  their  years 
Ogether, —  by  and  by,  when  they 
hould  be  outwardly  parted. 

There  are  points  of  experience 
rhere  all  things  gather.  Eternit}^  is 
1  them.  They  are  like  the  three 
bort  years  of  the  Lord  Christ's  min- 
iteriug  to  the  world 


When  Mark  Hinsdale  came,  Mrs. 
Holley  had  fallen  into  a  brief  sleep. 

Mark  thought  it  was  some  beauti- 
ful, tender-sad  angel  who  came  so 
softly  through  the  shadow  of  the  sit- 
ting-room to  meet  him,  and  stood  in 
the  firtdight  in  her  azure  r&bes  with 
shining  lK)nlers.  For  there  was  some- 
thing gloritied,  uplifted  above  the 
shock  and  the  fear,  in  Rachel's  face, 
strong  and  full  of  love  from  that  su- 
preme communion. 

"  ^lother  is  going  to  die,"  she  said, 
putting  her  hand  in  Mark's,  and 
raising  that  look,  that  he  never  for- 
got, to  his. 

"  Oh,  no ! "  he  said  with  the  first 
pitying  impulse,  keeping  hold  of  the 
hand  "  Is  she  worse  ?  She  will  be 
better  again,  as  she  has  been.  Don't 
be  frightened." 

"  Fm  not  frightened.  I  see.  0 
Mark ! "  she  said  suddenly,  as  one 
tender  heartbreak  fn)m  their  deep, 
brief  talk  came  over  her,  —  "  she  said 
—  she  —  shook  me  once  —  when  I 
was  a  little  child,  —  and  she  asked 
me  to  forgive  her!" 

And  the  human  grief  broke  forth 
in  passionate  tears.  Mark  put  his 
arm  around  her,  as  she  stooti  and  trem- 
bled with  her  sobs. 

"  Don't  cry  !  don't  cry,  Rachel ! " 
was  all  he  couM  say  to  her. 

Antl  Dr.  Sylva  came  in  and  found 
them  so. 

S(juire  IIolh*y  was  away  from  home, 
attending  to  some  law  business.  In- 
stead of  going  to  North  Denmark, 
Mark  Hinsdale  drove  his  fast  bay  colt 
all  night  over  the  road  to  Hartford, 
and  brought  the  scpiire  back  next 
morning  in  time  to  see  his  wife. 

The  next  time  Mark  saw  Rachel, 
it  was  in  a  black  dress,  at  her  moth- 
er's burial. 

Dr.  Sylva  was  a  sympathetic  man, 
and  a   bit  of    a  friendly  old  gossip. 


12  Six  of  One  by  Half,  a  Dozen  of  the  Other. 


C 


^ 


He  was  touched  and  interested  by 
what  he  had  seen,  and  he  could 
not  help  talking  about  it.  He  told 
how  good  Mark  Hinsdale  had  been, 
and  liow  plain  it  was  that  all  was  set- 
tled between  him  and  Rachel.  "  And 
the  soon^  it's  made  fast  the  better," 
he  said.  "  Squire  Holley^s  rich  enough 
to  take  them  both  right  in  at  home. 
And  I  guess  that's  the  way  it  will  be. 
He  won't  want  to  part  with  his  girl ; 
and  yet  lie's  no  kind  of  a  man  to  be 
left  in  charge  of  her,  all  alone,  though 
he's  first-rate  for  the  deestrict." 

And  that  was  the  way  that  every^ 
body  came'to  have  it  that  Mark  Hins- 
dale and  Rachel  Holley  were  engaged. 

CHAPTER  V. 

Nobody  knew  at  the  sleigh-ride 
dance  what  was  happening.  They 
all  wondered  and  wondered,  between 
th^  cotillons,  and  in  hands  across, 
and  up  and  down  the  reels,  what  had 
become  of  Mark  and  Rachel.  Some 
thought  one  thiug,  and  some  another, 
according  to  their  own  characteristics. 
Jeff  Fleming  said  Mark  was  in  one 
of  his  clouds  somewhere,  and  had  for- 
gotten to  come  down.  Nettie  Sylva 
guessed  they  had  had  some  little  muss : 
they  would  come  in  late,  maybe,  with 
some  excuse,  just  in  time,  perhaps,  for 
the  pairing-off.  Jane  quietly  remem- 
bered Mrs.  Holley,  and  thought  she 
might  have  needed  Rachel ;  but  no- 
body imagined  any  thing  like  the 
trutli.  There  is  no  one  whom  all  the 
world  looks  upon  as  more  a  fixture  in 
the  world,  than  a  confirmed  invalid. 

Nettie  Sylva  had  tied  her  face  up 
in  a  cloud,  and  told  Horace  he  must 
not  talk  to  her,  coming  over ;  she  had 
had  a  toothache  yesterday,  and  was 
afraid  of  it  again.  What  with  that, 
and  dropping  her  muff  out  of  the 
sleigh  and  making  him  go  back  for  it 


through  the   snowdrifts,  and   tal 
it  into   her  head   to   carry  the  ^ 
and  touching  up  the  gay  little  i 
with  it  almost  every  time  Horace 
say  any   thing,    she    got    over 
ground,  according  to  her  notion  o 
pretty   well.     The  rest  of    the 
gramme  had  been   carried  out  ^ 
nearly   as   she   had  indicated    it 
Jane.      She  had    been  a  long  1 
settling  the  exact  jwsition  of  the 
roses  in  her  dark,  silky   crimps, 
in  making  them  "  stay  put ; "  for 
rose-buds,  everybody  knows,  are 
loveliest  and  most  unmanageable 
blossoming    things,  —  they     are 
tipsy  with  their  own  rich  beauty  ;  j 
by  the  time  she  came  down  from 
little  gallery  dressing-room  attac 
to  the  dancing-hall,  she  found  Ho 
in  the  passage  below,  tolerably  c 
and  in  a  fair  state  of  provokablei 
Everybody  else,  nearly,  had  gone 

"Have  you  been  ready  lonj 
she  asked  sweetly,  taking  his  f 
"  But  then  you  didn't  have  tea-i 
buds  to  fix  in  your  hair !  Let's  n 
haste  now  :  they'll  be  engaging  fo 
the  dances,  and  I  don't  want  to 
left  out  in  the  cold." 

That  last  clause  was  a  sudden  i 
ish  inspiration. 

"  I  suppose  not.  Nobody  dc 
said  Horace,  with  an  enunciatioi 
if  his  words  were  just  stiftening  \ 
frost  as  he  spoke  them,  and  were 
much  congealed  to  flow  further  f 
those  five. 

"Why,  you're  all  nipped  u 
said  Nettie,  turning  round  at  1 
"  Your  nose  is  blue.  You'd  bette 
right  to  the  fire,  and  get  warm." 

And  with  that,  she  dro])ped 
ami  as  they  got  inside  the  door, 
let  herself  be  surrounded,  at  the 
stant  of  his  half  withdrawal,  by 
or  three  eager  claimants  for  dan< 
promises. 


19 


Six  of  One  by  Half  a  Dozen  of  the  Other. 


i^ 


li 


ifhe  second  dance,  and  the  third, 
•I  the  fourth,  she  gave.  Nobody 
ved  for  the  first,  of  course ;  that  was 
apposed,  according  to  sleigh-ride  eti- 
otte,  to  bo  Horace's. 
)  When  she  had  reached  as  far  as 
■^ve,  she  looked  round  to  see  where 
^oraco  was.  He  was  standing  by 
jiie  big  wood  fire,  half-way  down  the 
all ;  wanning  his  nose,  probably,  as 
^Jhe  had  bidden  him. 
,t  "  Gooil  I K)y  !"  she  said  slyly  to  her- 
^Jelf^  under  her  breath,  and  laughed. 
J  Then  bhe  slipped  oif,  quit«  at  the 
,f  >pposite  side,  and  along  to  a  far  cor- 
^er,  where  she  seated  herself  de- 
jinuroly. 

,e  The  first  set  was  forming.  Clarissa 
i.punmorc  was  standing  up  there  in 
^Q.he  corner,  with  her  brother  Elisha. 
ettie  got  behind  Miss  Dunmore's 
ide  skirts,  —  for  Clarissa  only  had  a 
lew  best  dress  once  in  three  years, 
[id  wore  the  fa.shion  out,  —  and  hid 
lersell*.  She  chattered  with  Miss 
larissa  as  she  came  back  and  forth, 
d  made  her  miss  half  the  figures. 
**  Why  ain't  you  dancing  ?  "  was 
eVIiss  Clarissa's  natural  question. 

**  Oh,  I'm  getting  ready  !      Hands 
Jkiross !       Why    don't     you     mind  ? 
There's  Nat  Kinsley,  waiting  ! " 
'■    Nettie  knew  she  could  always  man- 
i  ftge  Miss  Clarissa. 

Clarissa  was  an  old  maid  and 
idn't  know  it.  She  had  never 
pped  to  think  about  it.  She  had 
ly  had  four  best  dresses  since  she 
igan  to  keep  house  for  her  brother 
er  their  mother  died;  and  she  had 
►ne  about  with  him  to  all  the  sleigh- 
es  and  huskings  and  applebees, 
Bver  since,  quite  naturally ;  for  neither 
of  them  had  anybody  else  to  go  with. 
.Clarissa  thought  her  time  hadn't 
loome,  if  she  thought  any  thing,  and 
.kept  on  patiently ;  not  expecting  to 
the  ^'nm  after  much/'  because  she 


had  never  been  a  beauty;  but  just 
accepting  things  as  they  were,  and 
putting  a  piece  of  daphne  odora,  off 
her  bis  bush,  into  her  back  hair,  just 
where  she  had  put  it  twelve  years 
ago,  and  setting  off  contentedly  with 
Elisha  every  time  there  was  .a  merry- 
making, and  seeing  it  all  through, 
with  him  to  depend  upon,  and  to  talk 
it  over  with  afterward. 

^'  Elisha  was  real  clever  and  good 
about  seein'  to,"  she  said :  "  she  didn't 
know  what  girls  did  that  didn't  have 
brothers." 

They  danced  as  much  as  they 
wanted  to ;  for  ''  they  always  had  one 
another,  if  nobody  else  came  along." 
And  they  really  supposed  they  had 
"  been  to  the  party,"  as  much  as  any- 
body else.  Some  people  take  the 
world  at  large  in  that  way,  and  think 
they  have  been  to  it  too. 

After  the  cotillon  was  over,  Nettie 
scudded  round  again,  and  got  on  to 
the  opposite  side,  met  the  girls,  Jane 
Burgess  and  three  or  four  others 
whom  she  knew  best,  who  all  sup- 
posed, of  course,  that  she  had  been 
dancing.  Then  she  came  up  face  to 
face  with  Horace  Vanzandt,  just  as 
she  meant  to  do. 

"  Oh  !  "  she  cried.  "  Why,  where 
have  you  been  ?  I  didn't  see  any 
thing  of  you  all  through  the  set 
Have  you  got  warm  yet  ?  " 

^*  I  hope  you  had  a  {)leasant  dance," 
said  Horace  grimly. 

"  Dance !  why,  I  didn't  dance.  Of 
course  not.  I  sat  over  there  in  the 
comer  all  the  time.  Nobody  asked 
me.  I  haven't  had  a  soul  to  speak  to 
but  Clarissa  Dunmore  and  Elisha. 
i'm  getting  cold  now." 

"  Nettie  I "  said  Horace,  in  a  low, 
strong  voice,  "What  does  all  this 
mean  ?  " 

"I  don't  —  know  —  I'm  sure/'' 
Baid  Nettie,  with  wide-open  brown 


Six  of  One  by  Half  a  Dozen  of  the  Other, 


eyes.      "  Wliat    does   it  ?    I  —  stip- 
posed  "  — 

"  What  ? '' 

'*  Well,  —  if  you  will  make  rae  siij 
it,  —  that  you  might  possibly  have 
aslced  me  to  dancei  yourself;  and  so  I 
waited.'^ 

There  could  not  be  any  thing  more 
utterly  simple  than  Nettie's  Wk  lifted 
up  to  Horace  Vanzaudf  s  face. 

**  If  that  is  all,  come  and  dance 
now,^'  said  Horace,  holding  out  his 
hanil»  with  a  very  grave  face.  It  was 
earnest  with  him :  he  could  not  stop 
for  jesta,  scarcely  for  courtesies* 

"  Oh,  now  Vm  engaged  I  For  this, 
and  the  next,  and  the  next,  and  the 
neit  And,  besides,  I  think  it  would 
be  proper  to  say  *  sorry/  or  *  please/ 
or  something!" 

And  Nettie  went  off  with  Jeff 
Fleming.  "Jeff  was  bright/'  she 
said :  **  she  always  had  a  good  time 
with  Jeff  Fleming/'  she  told  Jane. 

HoKice  Vanzandt  w^ent  and  asked 
Jane, 

Somehow,  when  Nettie  was  very 
had,  be  bad  an  impulse  toward  Jane 
Burgess  for  friendly  comfort  Jane 
knew  Nettie  so  well,  and  alwayg  had 
something  kind  and  excusing  to  say, 
that  made  him  feel  better. 

*'  I  caat  make  Nettie  out  to-night/* 
he  said;  while  he  and  Jane  waited  at 
the  side* 

"  You  never  can/'  said  Jane. 
**  That's  juafc  what  she  means.  If 
you  didn't  try,  you'd  do  better." 

**  But  why  does  she  treat  mo  so  ? 
She  went  off  and  made  me  think  she 
had  been  dancing,  and  theu  came 
back  and  put  me  in  the  wrong  be- 
cause I  hadn't  asked  her.  She 
makes  me  —  mad ;  and  then  she 
won't  give  me  any  excuse  for  a  quar- 
rel; nothing  to  take  hold  of^  I 
mean." 

**  Don't  look  for  it    Take  it  as  if 


it  were  all  right.     It  is  only 
of  the  frolic,     Nettie  is  a  g 
only  she  isn't  quite  ready 
down.     You  mustn't  —  hurry 

Jatie  colored  up  as  she  sai 
It  was  tlie  nearest  to  a  taki 
granted  of  Horace's  wish  and 
ing  towanl  Nettie,  that  she  h 
come  to  in  any  of  their  tacit 
dences. 

They   had   to    chossee    no 
Horace  could  not  say  any  mo; 
the   figure    was    over.     Ho    tJ 
what  a  nice  quiet  partner  Jane 
as  he  came  back  to  her,  and  met 
clear,     friendly    look    and     plu 
smile.     It  rented  him  to  be  with 
a  while.      She  was   like   fair,  1< 
roiwl,  after  ups  and  downs,  jolts    i 
pitches.     But  then  that,  he  suppoi 
was  because  he  didn't  care  so  mu 
What  was  it  that  kept  him  beat 
back  and  forth  helplessly,  among 
thorns  and  tangles  of  Nettie's  tri 
and  whims  ?  i 

"  I  wish  she  would  grow  more  I 
you,  Jane.  Can't  you  m;iko  ha 
You  are  together  so  much.^' 

**  You   wouldn't   like   her   half  j 
well/^  said  Jane,  smiling  at  his  qua 
tion.     It  did  not  seem  so  surprisiij 
a    question    to  her,    doubtless,  as 
would   have    done    if  she    had    aj 
known     in     her     quiet     way 
she  was  a   pattern.     To    her  mi 
there  was  only  on©   sort    of  wom^ 
that   was  worth  while,  or  that  ei^ 
ought   to  be ;  and  she  meant  to 
that  woman  right  straight  throu 
Of  course  Nettie  would  be  better 
she   amid   make    her   a   little    mo 
after  the    same  type  j  but  then    s] 
spoke  truth  and   w^isdom   in   sayi| 
that  Horace  —  at  this  stage   of   ]^ 
experience,  at  least  —  would  not  liaj 
liked  her  half  as  well.  | 

**  See  how  pretty  she  is  this  minu 
And    sweet  and  happy  too :    th< 


mil 


Six  of  One  by  Half  a  Dozen  of  the  Other. 


pi 

I;  I't  a  bit  of  real  malice  in  it.     It's 
\\  fun." 

Nettie  was  fljing  out  across  the 
all  in  a  long  gallopade  chass^e,  her 
^olor  bright,  her  dark  eyes  like  two 
winter  stars,  and  a  merry  gleam  of 
.glittering  teeth  between  the  red 
K)arted  lips. 

i    She  came  quite  up  to  them  as  they 
Istood. 

I  sha'n't  have  a  dance  left,"  she 
said,  in  a  gay,  quick  whisper  to  Jane, 
she  gave  her  a  little  whirl,  and 
then  took  her  partner's  hand  again. 
"  If  anybody  else  wants  Ojpe,"  she 
added,  over  her  shoulder,  "  he'd  better 
make  haste.  But  it*s  a  reel  next; 
and  I  won't  engage  for  reels,  ever  I " 

*•  You  heard  ?  "  said  Jane. 
Yes.     She  meant  me  to." 
Of  course   she   did.     That's  the 
goo<l  of  her.     She  has  kept  the  reel 
on  purpose." 

**  She  always  keeps  the  reels.  She 
ikes  to  set  them  scrambling.  And  I 
won't  scramble."  For  all  that,  he  got 
U'side  her  when  the  quadrille  ended. 
Jane  managed  it  partly,  perhaps,  in 
rlioosing  her  seat. 

**  Will  you  dance  with  me  now?" 
said  Horace,  when  the  reel  was  called. 
And  Nettie  gave  him  her  hand  with 
au  exquisite  little  docile,  nestling, 
g<NMl-child  movement  to  his  side. 
Nettie  was  lovely  all  through  that 
reel,  and  the  next,  which  came  in 
two  dances  more.  "  I  always  like 
my  best  dances  in  the  middle  of  the 
eveninc:.''  she  said.  "The  first  ones 
are  drMary."  And  Horace  grew  con- 
tent under  her  smiles,  as  he  had  done 
a  hundred  times  before,  and  let  by- 
gon«*s  Ije  by-gones,  as  Nettie  always 
toll  him  he  ought;  although  she  did 
cr»nfe?s  to  Jane  Burgess  that  the  by- 
goiifs  were  never  more  than  twenty- 
f>ur    h«>ui3   old    before   they   began 


X 


Jane  herself  could  hardly  tell 
what  to  make  of  Nettie,  when  she  'i 
declared  to  her  in  the  "join  hands" 
of  Money  Musk,  that  she  "  didn't 
more  than  half  like  it,  after  all :  she 
believed  if  he  would  only  stay  mad, 
once,  long  enough  to  give  her  a  real 
little  scare,  she  should  like  him  better 
than  she  ever  had  done  yet." 

"  But  he  knows  you  don't  mean  it 
He  could  see  you  didn't,  the  minute 
he  quieted  down.  Besides,  I  told 
him  so." 

"  You  did !  You  were  nicely  set 
to  work  !  Now  I  shall  have  it  all  to 
do  over  again  !  " 

She  did  it  in  the  pairing-off. 

The  pairing-off  was  the  last  dance 
of  all.  Nettie  had  been  down  to 
supper,  —  and  I  wish  I  could  tell  you 
all  about  that  supper,  such  as  is  only 
had  in  a  country  tavern,  at  a  country 
sleigh-ride ;  its  roast  chickens  and 
ducks,  its  whipped  creams  and  plum- 
cakes,  its  custards  and  quince  jellies, 
its  nuts  and  apples,  and  cheese  ..nd 
crullers ;  its  hot  coffee,  thick  with  ^ 
cream,  and  its  champagne  cider ;  its 
regular  sitting  down,  pair  and  pair ; 
its  plentiful  helpings ;  its  jokes  and  * 
its  fortune-tellings  and  its  philope- 
nas,  with  apple-parings  and  apple- 
namings,  and  double  almonds.  I 
should  like  to  tell  you  all ;  but  they 
will  only  give  me  one  number,  and  I 
can't :  I  can  only  tell  you,  as  I  began 
to  do,  that  Nettie  behaved  beautifully, 
—  as  beautifully  as  Nature  and  little 
children  do  before  some  grand  out- 
burst of  mischief;  and  she  came  up 
again  radiant  and  benign,  and  danced 
the  "  Rustic "  with  Horace,  with 
Clarissa  Dunmore,  whom  she  had 
made  him  take  for  his  other  partner. 
And  Horace  said  to  himself  how 
good-natured  and  thoughtful  that  was 
of  her  for  the  poor  thing,  after  all. 

But  when  the  pairing-off  came  I 


f^^r 


Six  of  One  by  Half  a  frozen  of  the  Other. 


That  is  a  round  dance;  not  what 
we  call  a  round  dant!e  here  in  the 
city,  but  a  dance  formed  in  a  ring. 

Ko  one  takes  a  partner:  thoy  all 
go  up  one  by  one  and  take  places 
independently,  —  a  young  man  and  a 
3*oung  woman  alternately;  though 
I  will  not  say  there  may  not  he 
Bome  mutual  management  to  get 
tolerably  near  each  other  in  certain 
cases.  Yet  that  la  not  sure  to  avail, 
either ;  for  it  rests  with  the  manager 
to  call  out  as  he  pleases,  **  Ladies 
to  the  right,  gentlemen  to  the  left  1 " 
or  the  reverse.  And  then  follows 
omething  like  the  old  Swi^s  daiice,^ 
,  forward  and  back»  a  turning  round, 
a  passing  on  \  so  that,  one  after 
anotlier,  each  lady  meets  every  gen- 
tleman. And  as  they  meet,  —  by 
settled  agreement,  by  some  quick, 
mutual  understanding,  or  by  deliber- 
ate asking  and  assent,  as  the  case 
may  be,  ^ — they  pair  oflT,  here  and 
k-fr-^  til  ere  ;  chassee  together  out  from  the 
riu.^  and  round  the  circle,  and  to 
places,  successively,  in  a  long  lino 
gradually  formed  from  tlie  t^p  of  the 
room,  for  contra  dance ;  and  tfien  a 
merry  hands-across,  down  the  middle 
.and  ujt  again,  down  the  outside  and 
*  up  the  middh*,  —  a  scamper  to  the  end, 
—  and  all  repeated,  as  long  as  any 
con  file  cares  to  keep  it  up,  finishes, 
with  its  gay  tumult,  the  evening, 

Horace  Vanzandt  placed  himself 
in  the  ring  next  but  three  to  Nettie. 
Nat  Kinsley,  Elisha  Dunmore,  and 
Jo  Greenleaf  were  between.  She 
wmihlfiH  take  either  of  them,  he 
thought. 

P*ut  JeflT  Fleming  gave  the  word, 
**  Ladies  to  the  left  I'*  and  behold 
the  whole  circle  was  between  them  I 
He  could  only  trust  now  to  her  love 
of  fun  and  dancing,  and  the  likeli- 
hoo<l  o£  her  coquetting  all  round  the 
get  before  she  took  up  with  any. 


3 


Ho  watched 
made  seven  or  eight, 
met  Jeff  Fleming.  How  she  did 
nobody  knew,  of  the  three  most  into 
ested  ;  least  of  all,  perhaps,  JelF  h 
self,  who  certnii dy  had  thought  of^ 
nothing  until  that  moment  but  of 
looking  out  for  Jane,  But  just  as  bi 
gave  his  hands  to  Nettie,  in  the  turn 
he  met  a  sudden,  shy,  merry,  ints 
chievous,  wistful  little  glance  —  he* 
was  conscious  of  the  least  [lossibla 
lingering  as  they  came  around,  — of 
a  little  tremulous  poise  of  her  pretty 
tigure  ;  ^leir  eyes  encountered  again, 
with  a  flash  of  fun  in  both ;  and 
away  out  to  the  far  side  with  a  sweep,! 
down  again  toward  the  lessening  cir-' 
cle,  around,  and  up  to  the  head  of  the 
hall  triumphantly,  the  naughty  couplai 
ran  away  with  eac^h  other  before  th« 
assembled  eyes  of  Greyford  and  North 
Dentuark. 

Horace  made  a  few  turns  more 
and  then  broke  out  of  the  ring  and 
sat  down.  That.,  also,  thi^  dangers 
were  at  liberty  to  clioose.  That  made 
the  more  furf!  Two  or  three  others 
got  tired,  or  t^esaw  that  it  might  be 
policy,  and  did  the  same  ;  Jane  paired 
off  with  Elisha  Dunmore  ;  and  Claris- 
sa, trotting  rt;>und  patiently  to  the 
end,  expecting  nothing  but  the  dance, 
was  left  out,  odd,  at  last ;  and^  nothing 
troubled,  went  quietly  off  to  the  dress- 
ing-room, to  tind  her  hood  and  ru libera 
comfortably  before  the  crowd  came  up*' 

J>own  at  the  door,  when  all  w^as 
over,  Horace  met  Nettie  Sylva,  in  her 
wraps,  nothing  visible  in  her  face  but 
two  brilliant,  provoking  eyes. 

**  I'm  m  sorry,  Horace  I  but  I  don't 
dare  ride  in  that  cutter  again.  My 
toothache  has  come  back;  and  so  Fm 
going  with  Mr.  Dunmore  in  his 
chaise-top.  Yoa^U  taJce  Clanss% 
wotit  you  ?  " 

[To  bo  eotitlAiied.] 


7%e  Ghicago  Fire. 


19 


THE  Chicago  fire. 


BY  MBS.  M.  ▲.  8HORBT. 


'here's  another  fire  on  the  West 
ma'iim/'  said  my  brisk  little 
maid,  as  I  answered  her  bell  on 
etiirn  from  her  evening  out,  at 
Hist  nine,  P.M.,  of  Sanday,  Oct. 
They  say  it  is  as  bad  as  the 
u<t  night :  all  the  Bridgeport 
es  liiive  gone  over,  and  now  they 
tiling  the  others  from  the  South 
'  I  hastily  stepped  into  the 
Fire  on  the  West  Side,  in- 
The  whole  north-western  sky 
ne  glowing  mass  of  fiame.  "  It 
ange,"  said  a  neighbor,  w^hom 
oices  had  attracted  to  the  ve- 
>,*^that  they  should  have  allowed 
irt»  to  break  out  again  :  with  this 
it  endangers  the  whole  West 
•— «  Where  is  the  fire  ?  "  I  asked 
passing  policeman.  "West  of 
river,  ma'am,  —  a  few  blocks 
ot  Twelfth  Street,  among  those 
'3  and  cottages.''  —  "  Is  there  no 
tT  of  its  getting  across  to  the 
I  Side* ?  ■'  —  "I should  think  not ; 
rt-men  will  take  care  of  that."  And 
Wintered  the  house,  with  a  sigh 
ty  tV»r  the  poor  families  who  were 
I  homes  and  household  goods,  — 
^?  their  all. 

leate.l  myself  to  read.  My  book 
h\i  October  number  of  "  Old  and 
/'  which,  through  the  courtesy  of 
ken-lant  at  the  Young  Men's  Li- 
^,1  liu'l  taken  home  late  Saturday 
to::,  huvinuj  promised  to  return  it 

tli:»niry  tables  by  nine  o'clock  of 
ay  morning,  —  a  promise  I  have 
t  made  no  ajxilogy  for  having 
|i.  But  I  could  not  rest.  Be- 
l  my  eyes  and  the  page  those 
flames  were  dancing,  and,  as  it 
A,  beckoning  me  to  them. 


Snatching  a  wrap,  I  sallied  again 
into  the  street.  Brighter  and  still 
brighter  shone  the  north-western  sky. 
By  its  light  I  could  plainly  read  the 
placards  of  the  "  Manhattan  Silent 
Sewing  Machine  Co.,"  and  **  The  Bos- 
ton One-Price  Clothing  House,"  and 
"  Ruth's  Square  Brand  Oysters,"  on  a 
fence  near  by.  What  a  grand  sight 
it  must  be  if  one  were  only  nearer,  I 

thought  I     Should  I  call   L and 

P ,  who  had  retired  early  in  prep- 
aration for  a  particularly  busy  week, 
and  beg   them    to   take    me    to   see 

it  ?     Certainly  not.     L had  not 

been  well  for  a  week  or  more  ;  exposure 
to  the  night  air  might  harm  him.  I 
should  be  very  foolish  to  run  that  risk 
to  gratify  an  idle  curiosity  to  see  a 
fire  a  mile  and  a  half  away  on  the 
"  West  Side,"  where  it  could  not  pos- 
sibly do  any  harm  to  us  or  ours. 
And  so  I  tried  again  to  compose  my 
thoughts  to  an  appreciation  of  the 
noble  suggestions  of  **  Noblesse 
Oblige."  But  again  in  vain  ;  and  to 
the  street  once  more.  The  wind  was 
blowing  almost  a  gale  from  the  south- 
west. The  first  glance  told  me  that 
the  fire  had  extended  slightly  to  the 
east.  A  little  more  than  a  mile  to 
the  north  and  east  of  it,  in  the  midst 
of  the  finest  business  buildings  of  the 
city,  lay  Portland  Block  ;  in  which  was 

L ^'s  ottice,  with  books  and  valued 

papers.  I  hesitated  no  longer;  but 
rushed  up  stairs,  awakened  the  sleep- 
er, and,  after  such  vehement  urgings 
and  explanations  of  the  direction  of 
the  wind  and  extent  of  the  flames  as 
were  necessary  to  overcome  his  incre- 
dulity of  danger  to  Portland  Block, 
*^  from  a  fire  a  mile  and  a  half  from  it, 


The  Chicago  Fire. 


Xk 


and  on  the  other  side  of  the  river,"  was 

toU  that  I  miglit  **  ciill  F to  help 

li;irne$s  Prince,  and  we  wouUl  go  and 
gee  it."  Haj^tily  seizing  sbavvU  and 
wraps,  and  giving  directions  to  tlie 
housemaid  to  keep  doora  w«U  locked, 
gas  burning  in  the  parlors  and  halls, 
and  to   8it    until   onr  return     within 

call   of  littlo  M ,  lest   8h«    might 

wake,  and  be  frightened  at  our  ab- 
sence, we  were  off  at  a  quarter  before 
eleven,  Befure  us  stretched  Michi- 
gan  A  vet  me,  its  long  linea  of  noble 
and  eleg;mt  honie^  lying  peact'ful  and 
calm,  under  the  hroo<ling  stillness  of 
the  night.  Occasionally  some  sleeper, 
ron.iod  by  the  distant  tumult  or  by 
the  glare  of  the  flames,  would  throw 
Open  a  casement,  a  night -capped 
head  would  be  thrust  out  to  8«o  that 
the  lire  wais  **  only  on  the  West 
Side,**  and  return  to  its  warmth  and 
repose.  Not  a  vehicle  was  in  the 
street,  *'  Is  no  one  going  to  the  fire 
but  ourselves?'*  I  asked.  "You  for- 
get," said  P^ ,'^  that  we  have  ha<l  so 

many  large  lires  lately  thatpeo[)le  are 
le^H  excited  by  them;  pr<jbab}y  all 
who  are  in  the  habit  of  going  to  them 
were  out  late  last  night,  and  are  fjow 
dispo^efl  to  leave  this  to  the  firemen," 
Half  a  mile  farther  on,  in  the  vicinity 
of  Fourteentli  Street,  there  wan  Il*s3 
qui  (ft  Turning  on  to  State  Street, 
on  our  way  toTwelttb-street  bridge,  the 
confusion  became  still  greater;  and, 
once  fairly  across  the  river,  wo  could 
lo«ik  up  three  parallel  streets,  the 
frame  cottages  of  which  upon  both 
sidesi  were  burning  for  several  blocks. 
*^  I   will    take   this   street  west/'  said 

L ,"  and  drive  to  thenorthern  limit 

of  the  fire ;  we  can  then  watch  '\U  prog- 
ress.'- The  streets  were  tilled  with 
refugees  from  the  then  burning  homes. 
Half-clatl  women  and  children,  loads 
of  goods  in  carts,  drays,  and  express- 
wagons,  blocked  otur  way.     We  took 


our  stund  at  last  facing  the 
not  more  than  a  full  block  from 
while  beween  us  and  the  bu 
buildings  the  fireman  with  theti 
gines  were  working  like  Titans, 
they  conquering?  Scarcely  I 
see  they  ore  being  driven  back^ 
we  too  must  change  our  posi 
Moving  one  block  farther  to  the  | 
we  turned  again  to  face  the 
"They  will  stop  it  on  this  stre< 

th  at.  corner,"  said  P .    «  Theij 

brick  building,  with  trees  and  a  I 
yanl  around  it.     Look  I  three  am 
have  already  gotten  a   stream 
it  I "    He  had  scarcely  finished  » 
in g before  one  of  them  was  driven 
its    position    by   the     intense 
*'Kow  the  trees  upon  the  back  of 
burning  1"     **  What  is  that  tin 
doing   in    the   upper    front    too 
"Back!   back!"    surged  and   j 
the    crowd !   and   again     we     tl 
north.     Two  blocks  brougljt  us  i 
site  the  burnt  district  of  the  nigh 
fore.     Over-looking  its  black  wast 
twenty  acres,  the  National  Elev 
to  save  which  the  firemen  had  t 
so  bravely,    stood  lonely  and 
What  a  pity,  if  they  saved 
only  to  see  it  bum  now  t     "  It 
burn  to-night;   there  is  nothing 

bustible  near  it "  said  L .     '^ 

but  this  gale  I  See!  how  even 
the  burning  cinders  are  sailing  i| 
air  above  it  I  One  may  fall  upaj 
and  catch."  "  Xo,"  was  the  fl 
"the  firemen  will  take  care  of  t| 
Just  at  this  moment  a  new  cry  of 
ror  arose  directly  on  our  left.  Oj 
a  long  row  of  little  frames,  two  lij 
ahead  of  the  main  fire,  had  caugl 
the  rear.  Out  into  the  street 
the  dwellers  of  the  whole  ro 
dren  in  their  night-clothes, 
feet  and  naked  limbs,  wen 
their  way  through  the  thick' 
cinders,  following,  with  fihri< 


tdM| 


caugl 
cet  pd 


The  Chicago  Fire. 


19 


pr,  tbeir  half- crazed  parents^  who, 
jith  infants  in  arms  or  bundles  of  bed- 
pog  and  clothing,  were  seeking  a 
Qace  of  safety.  The  hot  air  was  tilled 
pth  sand  from  the  unpaved  street, 
lid  with  smoke  and  flame.  We 
|u8t  ourselves  leave.  As  we  turned 
"^^ir  horse's  head,  a  sight  more  sad  than 
^'hy  thing  we  had  yet  seen  met  our  eyes. 
'^'bom  the  door  of  a  specially  tasteful, 
^^fell-kept  cottage  came  a  young  man, 
^Wriug  an  infant  of  about  a  year,  ev- 
;  leuily  in  the  arms  of  death.  Behind 
'im  followed  the  mother,  leading  a 
^lild  of  three.  They  were  certainly 
"'gentle  people,"  and  had  been  watch- 
P'ig  by  the  death-bed  of  their  darling 
^^rough  all  that  tumult  I  Slowly  and 
'•^lently  they  moved  in  the  midst 
*^  that  noisy,  shrinking,  clamoring 
•^arong,  their  pale  faces  and  quiet  de- 
leanor  showing  that  their  previous 
Vief  had  dulled  their  hearts  to  all 
Inse  of  loss  or  personal  danger  from 
p  general  calamity.  An  acquaint- 
lice  met  them,  and  appeared  to  be 
tking  charge  of  them.  God  pity  and 
Dmfort  them ! 
"  Shall  we  not  go  home  ? "  said 
— .  "  It  is  past  midnight ;  we 
^re  doing  no  good  here,  and  we  have 
<%en  all  there  is  to  be  seen.  The  bum- 
'tog  of  one  of  these  little  frames  is  just 
^4ke  the  burning  of  every  other. 
^Che  fire  will  probably  sweep  every 
^hing  on  these  three  streets,  to  the 
'mrnt  district  of  last  night,  and  then, 
Vith  nothing  more  to  feed  it,  it  will 
.^p."  So  we  turned  homeward,  dis- 
coursing as  we  drove  along  of  what 
%e  ha<l  seen  of  the  homeless  families, 
4nd  of  their  terror  and  discomfort ;  but 
laying  that  most  of  them  were  insured; 
4iat  they  were  not  generally  of  a  class 
'50  possess  many  "  household  goods  or 
'  ;ods  "  which  money  could  not  at  once 
^  eplace ;  that  they  would  probably  now 
ell  their  lots,  and  go  with  their  fami- 


lies to  healthier  and  less  crowded  lo- 
calities^, and  that  in  a  year's  time  the 
whole  district  would  be  well  rebuilt 
with  brick.  With  such  placid  reflec- 
tions we  again  approached  Twelfth- 
street  bridge. 

A  group  seemed  eagerly  looking 
north. 

A  man  was  climbing  the  "  look- 
out." Once  upon  the  bridge,  we,  too, 
looked  up  the  stream. 

Can  it  be  ?     Yes,  it  is  true  I 

The  fire  has  crossed  the  river,  and 
oh,  this  gale !  No  more  thought  of 
going  home,  but  north  at  once. 

Up  Clark  Street,  silent  and  almost 
deserted,  we  drove,  until  near  Harri- 
son wo  hailed  the  first  person  we  had 
met  for  nearly  half  a  mile,  coming 
leisurely  along.  "Where  did  the 
fire  cross  the  river  ?  "  we  shouted.  "I 
don't  know,"  was  the  reply. 

I  verily  believe  it  was  the  first  in- 
timation the  man  had  that  the  fire 
had  crossed  at  all. 

Still  on,  —  and  soon  we  passed  the  ^ 
Michigan  Southern  Railroad  DeiHjt ; 
its  magnificent  proportions  and  mas- 
sive walls  and  towers  looming  up  more 
grandly  beautiful  than  ever  against 
their  background  of  flames  upon  the 
western  sky.  Long  lines  of  cars  lay 
on  the  track d  at  its  rear,  but  not  a 
living  soul  was  to  be  seen  about  it. 

Turning  on  to  Van  Buren  Street,  it 
was  evident  that  the  flames  were  rap- 
idly approaching  the  bridge  at  that 
point. 

North  again  on  La  Salle  Street  we 
came  in  sight  of  Adams-street  bridge ; 
its  western  viaduct  was  smoking,  — 
the  bridge  itself  was  being  turned 
at  that  moment,  —  while  south-west 
of  the  old  Armory,  there  was  the 
fire  I  well  under  way  on  the  east  side 
of  the  south  branch ;  all  the  engines 
on  the  other  side  of  the  river,  and  a 
gale  from  the  south-west  catching  up 


mt^ 


20 


Tlie  Chicago  Fire, 


the  burcimg  brands,  and  hurliug 
them  in  a  thick  shower  over  the  no- 
blest and  fairest  business  buildings 
of  the  city. 

Amazed,  awe-struck,  we  looked  in 
one  another^s  faces.  The  streets 
through  which  we  were  passing  were 
stiJl  quiet  and  comparatively  empty. 
Approaching  the  Cli amber  of  Com- 
merce the  cinders  fell  thicker  and 
thicker  about  our  horse  s  feet*  "  These 
cicders  will  surely  catch,"  I  cried,  as 
I  felt  mj  finger^*  burned  in  removing 
one  which  iiad  lallen  upon  my  shawl 
in  the  carriage.  Why  are  people  not 
out  upon  the  roofs  protecting  tliem  ? 
Why,  indeed,  except  that  for  the 
most  part  those  interested  were 
quietly  sleeping  miles  away  in  the 
iuburbs,  utterly  unconscious  of  the 
wild  ruin  with  which  the  hour  was 
teeming*  Turning  on  to  Wasliington 
Street  by  Court-house  Square,  we 
drove  at  a  brisk  pace  to  Portland 
Blix-k.     *sSit  here  in  the   carriage," 

Baid  L ,  throwing  down  the  reins, 

"while  I  go  and  get  the  janitor  out 
upon  the  roof  with  hose-pipe  and 
water ;  *^  and  he  disappeared  up  the 
Dearborn-street  entrance. 

The  streets  here  were  beginning  to 
be  alive  with  people,  anxiously  look- 
ing up  and  down,  and  inqninng, — 
"Wliere  /^  the  fire?''  Teams  and 
wagons  were  rushing  by  us  and  turn- 
ing on  to  Madison  and  Munroe 
Streets,  by  which  we  had  passed  a 

quarter  of  an  hour  before.      L 

returned. 

"  The  janitor  is  upon  the  roof  with 
Babrock  extinguishers  and  water,'' 
said  he,  "  but  the  fire  is  spreading  in 
several  directions.  I  think  I  will 
pack  up  some  papers,  and  be  so  far 
prepared  for  the  worst ;  "  and  he  dis- 
appeared again.  "  Run  back  to  Court- 
house   Square,"   said   I    to   P , 

**  and  see  if  the  fire  is  in  sight  at  that 


1 


"i 


point ;  and  notice  the  time,"  I  ca 
out  as  he  left.  Ho  was  back  soor 
it  was  five  minutes  of  two,  by 
Court-house  clock,  as  he  stood  on 
corner  of  Clark  and  Washingto 
There  was  nothing  to  be  seen  of 
fire,  except  that  the  air  was  fuller 
smoke  and  cinders  than  ever,  anf 
people  said  it  was  coming  up 
Salle  Street  fast.  What  is  that  ? 
sound  like  the  report  of  canno. 
filled  the  air.  Oh  I  that  is  the  South 
side  gas-works,  gone.  The  oourf 
house  bell  began  to  toll,  solemn  au' 
clear,  above  the  tumult  below ;  note 
of  warning  and  alarm,  and  also  o 

final    farewell.      L re-appeare 

bearing  desk-drawers  filled  wit 
papers,  I  stepped  from  the  carriage 
and  he  began  to  pack  them  undc 
the  seats. 

"  What  are  you  doing  ?  '*  said  i 
acquaintance,      **  You     don't     thir 
Portland  Block  will  burn ;  the*  fire 
at  least  two  squares  oft'." 

"  Yes  I  but  I  have  seen  it  come  i 
nearly  a  mile  in  this  direction,  and 
think  no  one  can  tell  where  it  wi! 
end ;  so  I  propose  to  pa<jk  this  cai 
riage  full  of  what  I  value  most  o 
the  books  and  papers  in  my  office. 
*^  Go  up,  and  help  bring  down  books, 

said  I  to  P .     **  I  will   stand   b 

Prince;'"  and  I  answered  an  nneas, 
glance  of  the  good  creature  with 
re-assuring  pat. 

Another  explosion  1  **  They  ai 
blowing  up  the  Chamber  of  Com 
merce ;  the  mayor  gave  an  order  fo 
it  half  an  hour  ago,'*  said  a  passer  i 

the  street.     L and  P cam 

down  with  arms  filled  with  books 
while  they  were  pat^king  them  int 
the  vehicle  I  ran  up  to  the  office,  ant 
returning  with  an  armful,  took  m 
place  again  at  the  horse's  hea< 
**  Driver  I  Driver  1 "  shouted 
woman's  voice  in  an  agony  of  fea 


The  Chicago  Fire. 


21 


^  are  going  right  into  the  fire  I    home.     P ^  you    are    light    and 

^  to  Oakland  !  ^  It  was  from  a  small :  are  you  brave  enough  to  drive 
ig  carriage  filled  with  half-  home  carefully,  leave  the  carriage  in 
jj«l  women,  who  had  evidently  the  stable,  just  as  it  is,  without  un- 
^oft  their  beds  in  some  hotel;  loading,  get  my  safe-keys  from  the 
^pallid,  horror-struck  faces  look-  house,  and  return  at  once  by  any 
,ore  ghastly  from  the  white  bed-    conveyance  you  can  find  ?     Portland 

Block  is  a  little   east   of   the   main 
direction  of  the  wind;    it  may    not 
bum  for  an  hour  or  more,  and  you 
t.  may  be  back  in  time.'* 

Of  course  P was  brave  enough 


ets  wrapped  about  them,  which 

leir     eager     haste     they     had 

itied     for    prote<;tion     in     their 


I  know  what  I  am  about,"  re- 
l  the  driver.  He  had  probably 
imI  down  Dearborn  Street  to 
d  the  crush  and  rush  of  vehicles 


to  try ;    so,  leading  the  horse  down 
Madison  across  State  Street   to  the 
Avenue,   he  started  him  off  on  his 
e  direct  lines  to  the  avennes.    perilous  drive  among  the  crowds  of 

and   P were   again   at    vehicles  of  every  sort  which  had  al- 

[carriase,  and   again    I   left   my    ready  begun  to  pour  southward. 


When  at  the  top  of  the  stairs 
)  shouted  from  the  floor  above, 
court-house  has  caught ! "  I 
to  the  office-window.  It  was 
The  clock-tower  was  in  a 
I  watched  it  a  moment,  and 
ads  fell  from  my  sight  at 
I  minutes  past  two. 
I  'M\\y  had   the  keys  to  my 

lor  if  Y would  only  come 

[fcis."  said   L ,  as  I  turned 

••  Why,  is  it   not   a   fire- 
f  aaftf  ?  and  will  it  not  protect  its 
—  '*  No  safe  would  stand 
iirH  as  this  will  be,  if  Port- 
;  Bl«>k    bums,  without    water ; 
tj  way  I    should    rather  have 
ers  out.     I  was  a  fool  that  I 
take  my  safe-keys  with  me, 
fould    have     thought    of 
And  again  we  descended  to 
let  with  woll-filled  arms.  These 


ear  J 


Returning  to  Portland  Block,  the 
first  person  we  met  on  the  landing 
was  Y .  Never  was  he  more  wel- 
come ! 

"  Have  you  your  safe-keys  ?  " 
"  Yes,  all  right."  And  sooner  than 
I  can  tell  it,  the  precious  papers  were 
out,  part  tied  up  in  an  old  coat,  and 
part  packed  in  a  basket ;  while  the 
safe  was  refilled  with  books,  locked, 
and  left  to  its  fate. 

**  I  will  take  charge  of  this  basket," 

said  Y ,  "  and  will  take  away  this 

chair  if  I  can,  as  a  memento.  Good- 
by.  I  have  some  friends  who  may 
need  my  assistance;"  and  he  was 
gone. 

"  Now  I  will  go  out  upon  the  roof 
again,    and   see    how   it   looks    from 

there,"  said  L . 

"  And  I  too  ?  " 

"  Well,  follow  me.     It  is  a  grand 
were  all  the  light  carriage    sight  when  you  get  there ;   but  you 
:  already  the  springs  were    know  there  is  no  light  in  the  build- 
**  And  now,  where  shall  we    ing  since  the  gas  is  out."     Up  the 
?"  —  ••  Over  to  De  Koven    dark  staircases,  and  through  the  dim 
i'l  a  friend.  "  The  fire  passed    corridors  and  halls,  we  toiled.     Port- 
er some  time  ago ;  they  will    land  Block  had  never  half  so  many 
lafe  in  my  rooms  there."           before.     At   last,  "  Take  care,"  said 
'laid  L y  **  they  must  go    L .   We  were  climbing  the  rough 


9 


22 


The  Chicago  Fire. 


H  o 


of  us,  —  "  l! 


81 


steps  under  the  roof  to  tbe  scuttle,  ings  on  the  south 

Out  under   the  open   sky,  the   gale  go,"  I  said;  turning  to  do  so, 

nearly  took  me  from  my  feet ;  hastily  ticed  a  fire  far  to  the  north-eas 

olinging  to  the  nearest  structure  for  down  by  the  lake  shore,  on  the 

8ui>port,   I   turned   my   face    to   the  side  of  Rush-street  bridge,  norl 

north-west.     No  pen  can  describe,  no  the  main  river.     Holding   my 

pencil  paint,  or  words  sugjsfcst  to  the  to  steady  me,  as  I  stepped  tbij 

most  vivid  imaginaMon,  the  grandeur  the  scuttle,  "  Take  your  last  loo 

ot*  that  scene.      Of  all  the  hundreds  the    grandest   sight   your    eyes 

of  noble  buildings  lying  in  that  di-    ever  see,"  said  L .    But  the 

reotion,  not  one  was  distinguishable;  and  horror  of  the  scene  had  ali 

broad    and   far  before    us   stretched  conquered   my   sense   of  it^    be 

only  that  mighty  ocean  of  fire.    From  and  I  could  not  bear  to  look  a 

its  seething  bosom  huge  billows,  toss-  Slowly,   with   awe-struck  hearts 

ing.   surging,  swelling,  went  leaping  hushed  voices,  we  crept  througl 

on,  on,  as  fixr  as  the  eye  could  reach  ;  dark  corridors  and  down  the  s 

like  uncaged  troops  of  strange,  un-  On  the  lower  floor  people  were  si 

earthly  monsters   they  seemed,  their  ing  in  doorways,  beside  trunks 

dark   red   breasts   of    horrid    beauty  bundles,  waiting  for  a  vehicle,  oi 

heaving,  swelling,  in  insolent  rage,  haps   even   then    uncertain    wh 

as  they  tore  madly  on  with  wild  roar  Portland  Block  would  burn.     Ii 

and  rumble,  flaunting  their  pale  yel-  streets   below,  men  were    grum 

low  crests  in  the  very  face  of  heaven  that  the  mayor  wtis  not  more  effit 

itself;   while    ever   and    anon    from  ly  at  work  blowing  up  buildings 

their   midst,   with   fierce    crash    and  stopping   the   fire  thereby.      T 

hiss,     huge     brands     wep>     rushing  with  the  recollection  of  what  w( 

through  the  sky,  to  fall  or        le  dry  just  seen  fresh   upon  us,    sut^h 

roof  or  cornice,  far  in         ^..ce,  and  seemed   the   unreasoning    fretfu 

prepare  new  food  for  the  greed  of  the  of   children.      How   stop   a   fir 

horrid   throng.      What   hand    could  powder,  wlien  the  wind  was   st 

stay  their  work  ?     Not  human  power  great  brands  from    burning   coi 

or  skill !     No,  nor  yet  human  prayer,  and  rafters,   and  hurling  th(im 

But  our  position  was  by  no  means  and  eager  for  their  prey,  full  1: 

■  a  comfortable  one.  The  air  was  mile,  not  simply  in  one  directior 
dense  with  smoke  and  sand ;  the 
cinders,  falling  thick  about  our  feet, 
were  beaten  out,  swept  ofl^,  or  extin- 
guished the  instant  they  fell,  by  the 
janitor  and  his  companions,  but 
were  liable  to  cat<.'h  at  any  moment, 
desi>ite  their  efforts.  The  deafening 
roar  of  the  gale,  the  hissing  crack- 
ling of  the  flames,  and  the  heavy 
thud  of  falling  walls,  made  conversa- 
tion almost  impossible ;  and  when, 
from  the  roof  of  Dearborn  Theatre 
adjoining,  some  one  shouted  that 
they  were  preparing  to  blow  up  build- 


west,  north,  east,  south,  even  ! 
although  the  main  direction  of  th 
was  from  the  south-west,  all  tin 
the  night,  there  would  sprin< 
occasionally  an  eddying  whirl, 
and  wild,  in  which  it  seemed  i 
directions  at  once.  A  cry  ranj 
"  *  The  Times '  building  has  cauj 
It  was  true :  no  hope  now  of 
land  Block.  "  How  it  grieve 
that   I   must  leave   these   bool 

burn  ! "  said  L ;  "  perhaps  \^ 

carry  off  a  few  more ; "  and  we  p 
8ome  in  a  desk-drawer;  but  i 


-    ^ 


The  Chicago  Fire. 


25 


if  of  the  oater  room  it  woald  not 
^  through.  In  vain  we  tried  to 
iw  the  bolt  of  the  other  half  of 
t  double  door;  it  would  not  yield. 
Bt  tlien  a  rush  down  the  stairs,  and 
hour.  "  Tlie  roof  has  caught ! "  came 
im  behind  me.  Glancing  towards 
e  windows  of  the  other  room,  flame 
d  smokt'  seemed  bursting  through 
em.  *•  Let  us  go.  Cannot  these  be 
)Iace<^l  by  money  ?  they  are  in- 
rtfl ;  let  us  run  no  risk  of  danger, 
t  what  money  will  buy  again." 
p«L  snatching  each  something  we 
lil'i  take  in  our  hands,  we  descended 
r  the  Wash  in  •▼ton-street  entrance 
the  street.     There  we  remembered 

at  wo  had  toM  P to  return  to 

in  Portland  Block ;  and  a  horrid 
ir  seize«l  us  lest  he  should  enter 
e  burning  building  unaware  of  its 
:idition,  and  be  suffocated  by  the 
itike. 

"  Sir  here,"  said  L ,  placing  a 

/lir  for  m-i  on  the  south-east  corner 
\Va>hinq::on  and  State,  "and  I 
\\\  \v:ir  h  the  entrance  as  long  as  I 
ii;.'  With  my  lap  tilled  with  the 
iTiiJLe  i.-f  papers  I  sat.  Soon  the 
r>:  e'^iirine  I  hjul  seen  for  three 
.■jr<  t'Hik  a  pc»siti«.>n  diagonally  oppo- 
i".  a  lid  after  some  delay  poured  a 
h  • !.-  .str»-am  u|H>n  Field  &  Leiter's 

Iii.  1!ti;:.  a  long  line  of  the  wagons 
r'.-i:  rirra.  with  their  magnificent 
:— -  atTiiciieil,  stood  in  the  rear,  re- 
tr;.:.z  'Z**-*^^^  from  the  counters  with- 
l  Iii  trie  doorways  of  other  stores 
I*,  iij -n  were  standing  with  anx- 
.  laKil  faces,  discoursing  in  low 
-  •  f  the  progress  of  the  flames. 
Irrii  mv  chair  two  men  were  con- 
"kr-:::::.  "  Humph  I  "  said  one,  "the 
-•"r  t'ikj?  had  to  take  it  Saturday 
\-iu:   ani    last   night   on  the   West 

!'i-;  rj  'W  the  rich  folks  have  got  it, 
\\  fiifv  don't  seem  to  like  it  any 
ftttr  tiian  we  did."      "  The  Opera 


House  hfts  caught  in  the  rear,""9uth- 
another ;  "  they  ought  to  have  blown  *jM 
up  that  whole  block  an  hour  ago."  ™ 
As  I  turned  to  look  for  the  Opera- 
house  fire,  my  eye  caught  sij^ht  of  a 
burning  brand  flying  through  the  air, 
from  the  direction  of  *  The  Times ' 
building :  it  fell  upon  the  roof  of 
Sargent's,  on  the  corner  of  State 
and  Handolph  Streets,  and  lay  for  a 
moment  as  if  dead ;  then  a  gentle 
puff  seemed  to  revive  it,  but  with  a 
cup  of  water  I  could  have  extin- 
guished it ;  soon  it  began  to  smoke, 
and  a  burst  of  flame  showed  it  had 
done  its  work. 

Meantime  the  private  engines  of 
Field  &  Leiter's  building  had  been 
started. .  Bravo !  its  roof  and  sides 
are  dripping  with  water.  How  beau- 
tiful it  looks  !  Every  graceful  column 
and  balcony  of  pure  white  marble, 
glistening  in  the  light  of  the  flames, 
and  showing  in  finer  relief  than  ever 
before.  Perhaps  they  will  save  it ! 
that  fire-proof  building  on  the  south-  y^ 
west  corner,  the  First  National  Bank, 
will  protect  it  greatly,  and  holp 
to  prevent  the  fire  from  spreading 
east  at  this  point.  What  was  going 
on  at  tliat  moment  on  the  other  side 
of  the  river  in  the  north  and  east,  I 
did  not  dare  to  try  to  think. 

L returned    to    my  side.     "  I 

have  seen  nothing  of  P ;  he  is 

due  by  this  time,  even  if  he  came 
back  on  foot,  unless  something  went 
wrong  with  him.  There  is  a  car 
coming  fnmi  the  soutli ;  perha[)s  he 
is  in  it;''  and  he  left  to  see.  The 
roof  of  St.  James  Hotel  began  to 
smoke.  To  what  a  fearful  heat  that 
will  subject  Field  &  Leiter's  build- 
ing!  The  water  was  still  pouring 
in  torrents  over  it,  but  there  seemed 
little  hope.  ^*  Where  do  you  think 
they  will  stop  the  fire  ?  "  asked  some 
one   at   my  right.     "Stop   it!   they 


22 


The  Chicago  Fire. 


^^c    stop    it  at  all,''   answered  a 

\^   y       voice  nearer  me  ;  "  the  whole city 

/    ^***'     is  goinj^ ;  and  they'll  never  build  it  up 

^  again ;  they'll   go   down  to  Calumet 

and  make  their  city  there,  as  they 
ought  to  ha'  done  in  the  first  place." 
I  turn(Ml  to  look  at  the  speaker.  He 
was  a  man  past  middle  life  ;  probably 
one  of  tliose  who  had  been  ruined  by 
a  dogged  belief  that  the  mouth  of 
the  Calumet,  twelve  miles  nearer  the 
head  of  Lake  Michigan,  was  a  finer 
site  for  a  city  than  the  mouth  of  the 
-  Chicago  liiver. 

L came  back  again.     No  news 

of  P .  We  tried  to  console  our- 
selves by  recalling  his  prudence  and 
judgment,  but  our  hearts  were  heavy 

with  anxiety.     L was  weary  with 

the  night's  labors ;  we  were  doing 
nothing  in  aid  of  others ;  there 
seemed  nothing  to  be  done  at  that 
point;  men  stood  about,  gazing  at 
the  progress  of  the  fire  as  if  par- 
alyzed in  helpless  despair.  We 
t  ►  thought  of  home,  and  how  we  should 
reach  it ;  it  seemed  impossible  to 
procure  any  conveyance;  and  we 
started  on  our  three-miles'  walk,  just 
j  as  the  dawn  began  to  break  in  the 

east. 

Coming  down  State  Street  the  con- 
fusion was  greater  than  any  thing 
we  had  yet  witnessed.  Looking  up 
Madison  Street,  McVicker's  was  smok- 
ing; although  the  Tribune  building, 
just  beyond,  stood  as  yet  unharmed. 
In  front  of  the  Palmer  House  the 
street  was  blocked  with  teams,  and  the 
sidewalk  with  baggage  and  people. 
The  fire  had  passed  that  point  three 
hours  before  on  its  way  north,  but 
now  seemed    creeping    back.      Still 

J  there  was  no  engine   in   sight,  and 

no  organized  eifort  to  arrest  its 
work.  Every  vehicle  was  sought  for 
at  unheard-of  prices,  for  an  hour's  aid 
in  xemoving  goods  from  stores  and 


dwellings.  Women  '  and  childi 
were  rushing  with  arms  full  of  clo 
ing  and  bedding  across  the  aveni 
to  the  lake  front.  Wearily  on  we  w( 
among  them,  our  eyes  half  blind 
by  smoke  and  heat,  and  by  g 
ing  long  hours  at  the  flames.  Cro 
ing  on  to  Wabash  Avenue,  every  do 
way  and  yard  was  filled  with  goc 
and  people. 

Behind  them  in  a  gray  dawn  stc 
the  darkened,  empty  houses,  waiti 
their  doom. 

Near  Eighteenth  Street  a  vehi 
was  standing  with  two  wheels  up 
the  copings,  the  others  in  the  stre 

"  What  is  that  ?  "  said  L .     "  I 

P up-set  going  home  ?      It  C( 

tainly  is  our  carriage,  but  where 
he  ?  "  and  approaching  he  peered 
side  the  vehicle.     "  What  are  you  < 
ing  there?"  shouted  a  rough  voi< 
and  a  heavy  hand  was  laid  upon  \ 

shoulder.     With  a  growl  L \ 

himself  in  a  posture  of  defence ;  but 
a  moment,  half  comprehending  t 
situation,  with  a  sneer  expressive 
his  ineifable  disgust  at  the  stupidity 
his  antagonist,  he  broke  out,  *^0 
you  take  me  for  a  thief,  do  you  ?  } 
fool ! "  "  Why,  yes ;  of  course 
does,"  cried  I;  **for  what  e 
can  he  take  you  under  the  circu 
stances?"  and  the  man,  who  v 
packing  valuables  into  the  carria 
seemed  satisfied,  and  allowed  us 
pass.  Some  moments  later  I  forj 
all   my   discomfort   in   recalling   i 

scene,  and  L 's  growl  of  disg 

at  the  lack  of  penetration  wliich  co 
not  read  our  forty  or  more  years 
"  conscious  respectability  "  benei 
the  dirt,  weariness,  and  general  va 
bondishness  of  air  the  last  few  ho 
had  thrown  around  us,  and  burst  i 
a  hearty  laugh.  '<  Let  us  never  i 
again  that  a  gentleman  carries 
patent  of  nobility  about  him  like 


The  Chicago  Fire. 


25 


/ 


^here,  so  that  the  most  casual 
,^r  anconsciously  reads  it  at  a 

now  that  we  have  ourselves 
iken  for  thieves."—  "  Pshaw  ! " 

^ impatiently,   "  don't    be 

!  The  fellow  found  us  in 
>us  circumstances,  and  did  not 
ovt  to  look  at  us  at  all "  I  stole 
iong  glance  at  my  companion, 
I  his  bleared  eyes,  soiled  linen, 
d  hat,  smooched  face,  and 
Qg,  tired  step,   but  prudently 

more. 
ve   drew  nearer  home,  groups 

neighbors  began  to  meet  us, 
;  to  see  what  the  fire  was  do- 
»!ue  of  them  having  only  just 
,  that  it  had  crossed  the  river. 
.  just  after  daylight,  we  rang 
I  at  our  own  door,  and  heard 

I 's  answering  shouts   of 

our  return.     P had  been 

t  three  o'clock,  but  had  unhar- 
Prince  and  gone  back  with  the 
-aving  them  alone  in  the  dark, 
1  plained.     "Give  us  hot  coffee 

'."    saiil    L ,  **and    I   will 

ly  face  and  go  back  with  the 
-  in  search  of  him.'' — "  Bathe, 
J  is  no  water  I"  It  was  too 
Lily  a  few  minutes  after  we  had 
.1 1  &  Leiter's  building,  as  we 
Txli  learned,  the  water  had 
jut  from  the  burning  of  the 
lorks.  and  all  hope  of  saving 
any  building  in  that  vicinity 
'n  abandoned. 

I V  swallowing  his  coffee,  L 

rt".      In  a  few  minutes  P 

I.  He  ha<i  been  warned  from 
1  l>l«>ck  by  a  policeman,  and, 
arching  for  us  in  the  crowd, 
:ir:ied  home,  bringing  perliaps 
tiutes'  later  news  of  the  fire : 
lad  seen  the  roof  of  the  St. 
Hotel  falling  as  he  left. 
lOur  after  I  noticed  from  my 
s  that  the  rush  of  carts  and 


wagons  filled  with  goods  to  the  south- 
ward was,  if  possible,  increasing.    The   i^ 
gale  was  as  strong  and  hot  as  ever/  ^^ 
A  driver  stopped  to  give  informatioD^"^*^^^ 
to  a  crowd  at  the  comer.     "  All  the 
city  on  the  north  side  of  the   river 
was   burnt  or  burning ;  and  the  fire 
was  steadily  working   south    on    the 
avenues,   towards    us.     On    Wabash 
Avenue  it  had  reached  Munroe ;   the 
Second  Presbyterian  Church,  Drake's 
Block,  the   Clifton    House,    Convent 
Building,  all  were  gone.     On    State 
Street  the  Palmer  House  was  burning 
when  he  left."    When  would  it  end  ? 

L returned  at  about  ten  o'clock. 

"  P is  at  home  and  safe.     What 

news  of  the  fire?"  —  "Nothing  you 
will  like  to  hear,"  said  he  gravely.  "  It 
has  crept  south  against  the  wind 
nearly  half  a  mile  since  we  left  it  at 
daybreak.  They  ar^  organizing  un- 
der Sheridan  to  blow  up  buildings, 
and  fight  it  in  that  way.  If  the  wind 
does  not  change,  they  may  be  suc- 
cessful. No  one  can  tell,  however,  ''^ 
what  the  end  will  be;  and  you  had 
best  pack  uj)  clotiiing  and  valuables, 
and  be  prepared  for  the  worst/' 

But  it  is  useless  to  dwell  upon  the 
anxiety  of  the  inhabitants  of  the 
southern  part  of  the  city,  iluring  the 
forenoon  of  Moiida}'.  Early  in  the 
afternoon  word  came  that  the  *•  Pow- 
der brigade"  had  been  successful, 
and  the  lire  was  arrested  in  its  south- 
ward course.  We  breathed  more 
freely  for  an  hour  or  two ;  then  came 
new  anxieties  both  for  ourselves  and 
those  around  us.  How  was  tliis 
crowd  of  homeless,  hungry  wanderers 
to  be  fed  and  sheltered  ?  For  our- 
selves, we  were  expecting  momentaril}' 
to  hear  from  near  and  dear  friends 
on  the  North  Side  ;  and  our  roof  and 
its  hospitalities  must  be  kept  sacred 
for  them.  Immediately  on  my  return, 
I     had     given     orders     that     meat, 


von 


•  .,  ,.  .1,/- 

I   II  i  ■■    /    Ml 


'•  ■■     •;"  .    *.'.'•   •-'.';.  of  '-:.-. K-'i    v..-;,   ///;,-;,.      J:-:'..-.:   v.-..-   i 

,     /  .    'J  i';;ii' 'I.  /,  ,r    i.  #;-';.   r;j.;     tir-   •.•.;-     r.i,-":.j 

'    .  •    '•  '    ;'#ri       '.i      ♦/!':       Ut'.l  .'^tr  fM  l'-    O.'l     ^.li'r     -  ;  1*  1:     ;;•;  1     •■  ;•:     ut' 

'■    I    ii'l      'I',     fill',    v,iMi'/i»*.  ']  Ijr-':   -'r"'r'-.   Wi:    «ii  i    Ji  r.    Yllir.V 

.   Jim    ' '»riip;iii.r'.i    f  /  li.ij-' ••']  rij'*n-,     Wi-Pt      h'Jriiilii;     Oil     tii»;      \V 

..  /   l.i'»'ii   ,  '»iir  j;-ili'<-   I'lT't'.  I'-.iviii^  iM  no  cIi  Mi':i;  or  '!'-*:r.;  but 

I,    iiii'i    «i«i.v«I:/,l     ioij;^Im  lly  north,  jiii'l  tlinjii^h  Lino^ln   P 

'i|i'/ii  ii.t  Ji',ni  iihro:i'J    (not  to  the  \a\h:,  which  could  not  burn. 


.^ 


Till    Clnrnnf    PiTt 


29 


T' TV-- :)T2i!-:r     ;i-     wa-     a"     nr*-     i      nvi'*--*-'- .'■!.  Ai  .         '  ■"is 


'-...:.:."'      ■  ii-  ::    I.  lij"  ■!.■.  I  «■■■...    r.     \.-.  •  •  .-.^    •  \.    .      .  .  :  ,  ■.   » 

.     :...:      J—    :     -.;'"■..    I'^ill     :.:■  r...     i       i.;        !■         :.:.--',. :.'^      >     ..    '       l.:^. 

'1  •  ■'     V    i."    .1:;     .-.,    ,\  ■■     y    .    •      ■  ■■:■..!/  .-■... 

■    :      ::..:     '    '     -ii  .     1.   ;:-  '.:i'    II  ^  .    ■.-.  -.^    ;.-..      »     ■'■      -I.  ■:     ^'  .■■■...  _    .  » 

:.    l\r  :    \^'f\.L'\\'  'il    :"iju- ■■;..]«;■  <'"-   :     "•^'^   :-        '■    '   ''   "■'•     ■      '■■■    ^  ■  ■•■'■ 

--...       ;.-■  ;i-     ii-    .  .■       ^   h    I    ■   1     '•   -v  .1.  '-v  .  ....^'.'^  .. 

:  ■ -.  :ii..:  ■    ,,    -:t.   ip-..      ..^-  .-.  n..;,    .i.^'.m-    ?.'■.•....:.  •       1.  ■      -  .1  ...^, 

:..\i     M-        V'-'*    c.  ■■     ■  i-iii.  "!!    ■  ;«■■«    hi'  •■■  ■  .   '"■■      '. .    ' 

^- :■■      r.  •■■  •■     ^i-    1-    «■    !■;.! •■   ■ '■"-    '■■■^  ■■■■"■' 

•■     ■     J     *■  ■    .••."■:;;.    V    \- «i  li  ■:     ^   -'■■-:■-     !«-i-    «.  ;.     ■■.       ;  1    ^     .. 

V  •      m:....         ,  ■    :-     :.    \ .   '::  .■.!.;       ■  -i.:,      <    .-»  .-1  -n >;  .  ■       r  1... 

•  -  :   :■■.-:'      •     "■  1:.:  :  >j.it  "i.  j    p     i-.  m.:-    "  '.m--    .  ■,'    :«     i---  ■,. 

••  .i      "1:     ;-;■   v    V;>    ■     1.;    •'  ,r      h-    :..;..:i.-<-   ;.■■    ■>     : '•■    ,■  ■  •• 


\ 


\  .    \«  ■     ^1  . 


^% 


26 


The  Chicago  Fire. 


bread  an  **  -^^^  ^*^  ^®  possibly  feed  the 

"^tind  eiwo^'y  i°  ^^^  streets  ?  "  was  pressing 

ign  ep^^  ^"^^  hearts.     Then  came  its  answer 

m  the  form  of  the  unheard-of  contri- 


Jfy^ 


butions  of  hundreds  of  car-loads  of 
cooked  food  from  our  sister  cities ; 
and  eyes,  that  had  been  dry  through 
all  the  suffering  and  despair  of  the 
previous  hours,  grew  moist  with 
gratitude.  Still  in  they  poured, 
those  gifts  of  tenderest  sympathy  and 
wisest  charity ;  cooked  food  chiefly 
during  the  first  few  days,  then  provis- 
ions and  clothing,  followed  by  money 
and  promises  of  money  by  which 
the  crowds  of  homeless  could  be  shel- 
tered. 

We  gained  courage  to  attempt  to  re- 
organize our  daily  life,  and  to  look 
about  us,  and  see  what,  if  any  thing, 
remained.  It  cannot  be  doubted  that 
it  is  to  this  proof  of  the  closeness  of 
the  tie  which  binds  our  city  to  all  the 
civilized  world  besides,  that  much  of 
the  fortitude  and  composure  with 
which  our  population  has  borne  its 
sufferings  is  due. 

A  drive  through  the  burnt  district 
on  Wednesday,  as  soon  as  the  streets 
were  sufficiently  cleared  of  debris  to 
mjike  such  a  drive  possible,  was  a 
curious  study.  Men  seemed  still  men- 
tally staggering  from  the  blow.  On 
a  pine  board  stuck  up  over  the  yet 
smoking  ruins  of  what  was  only  three 
days  before  a  fine  business  building, 
filled  with  valuable  goods,  but  of 
which  now  not  even  the  bricks  were 
worth  saving  from  the  debi'is,  one 
could  read,  "  Alive,  but  scorched ; 
can  bo  found  at  — ,  Wabash  Ave." 
On  another,  **A11  gone  but  wife  and 
babes  and  pluck,"  touched  a  chord 
which  then  beat  responsive  in  the 
heart  of  every  passer. 

On  the  side  of  a  rough  board 
shanty,  stared  in  coarse  black  letters, 
*•  Opera-House     Dining-rooms."     It 


was  only  by  keeping  in  view  t 
jagged  walls  of  some  building  y 
had  called  "  fire-proof  "  that  we  cou 
determine  our  whereabouts  at  a 
Of  Field  &  Leiter's  building  and  i 
its  graceful  beauty,  there  was  n 
enough  left,  as  a  passing  photograph 
said,  even  to  make  a  picture  of.  J 
we  drew  near  it  a  group  of  gentlerat 
were  gathered  on  the  corner.  Son 
one  standing  in  a  buggy  was  addres 
ing  them.  "And  now,"  said  h 
waving  his  hat,  "  our  message  to  tl 
civilized  world  must  be, '  Chicago  su 
dued,  but  not  conquered.' "  Subdut 
indeed  she  is,  the  city  of  our  love  ar 
pride !  Never  to  be  rebuilt  as  befor 
although,  now  that  the  first  two  weel 
of  grief  and  despair  are  orer,  v 
know  that  we  shall  some  time  see  h 
as  prosperous  and  strong  as  eve 
Next  to  the  material  advantage  c 
her  geographical  position,  the  bei 
guarantee  of  that  future  prosperii 
is  the  love  and  faith  of  her  citizen 
Tliat  love  is  as  strong  now  in  the  da 
of  her  humiliation,  when  she  h; 
nothing  to  offer  ihem  of  person; 
opportunity  in  any  direction  exce[ 
that  of  faithful  toil,  as  it  was  si 
weeks  ago.  Then  she  was  preparin 
for  them  a  winter  of  opera  from  Nih 
son  and  Parcpa,  of  social  gayeties,  o 
art  receptions,  of  drama  and  Icctur 
and  of  a  whole  world  of  cultivate 
life  and  refined  enjoyment,  which 
now  impossible.  Sitting  in  the  ashc 
of  the  past,  with  only  a  hope  in  tl 
future  to  cheer,  the  winter  is  befoi 
them ;  with  nothing  but  the  necessit 
of  incessant  toil,  and  struggle  wit 
inconvenience  and  disorder,  it  wi 
certainly  bo  a  very  dreary  and  m< 
notonous  one ;  yet  all  who  can  wi 
remain  with  her,  and,  of  those  wL 
leave,  most  do  so  unwillingly.  Thanl 
to  the  world's  charities,  whoso  distr 
bution  we  are  glad  to  feel  is  in  con 


^ 


The  Gate  Called  Beautiful  29 

It  handfl^  the  burden  of  the  help-  future  poets  will  sing  of  them ;  and 

vill  be    partially  lifted   from  a  future  philosophers  will  point  to  them 

sanity  so  crippled  that  such  a  as  proof,  that,  in  the  year  of  our  Lord 

m  would  have  been   almost  be-  1871,  the  grandest  lesson  of  Christian 

its  strength.     Of  those  charities  philosophy,   the  lesson   of    ^' human 

«  to-day  can  adequately  speak,  brotherhood,"  had    been  learned  at 

r<^  historians  will  tell  their  story ;  last 


THE  GATE  CALLED  BEAT7TIFUL. 


BY  JOHN  W.    CHADWICK. 


kej  broo^t  m  nuui,  Imme  from  his  birth,  aod  laid  him  dallj  at  the  gate  of  the  temple  whioh  U 
caUedBeaatiftiL" 

Lam£  from  his  birth :  and  who  is  not  as  much| 

Though  in  his  body  he  be  stout  and  strong ; 
And  in  his  mind  an  athlete  for  the  truth  ; 

In  conscience,  too,  a  giant  against  wrong  ? 

Pot  who  that  guesses  what  a  man  may  be, 

L:i  all  his  powers  and  graces  how  divine, 
And  then  bethinks  him  of  the  thing  he  is,  — 

So  far  below  that  glory,  Grod,  of  thine,  — 

Though  he  were  greatest  of  the  sons  of  men, 

"  Why  callest  thou  me  good  ? ''  he  still  would  say ; 

And  all  the  heights  already  won  would  point 
To  higher  peaks  along  the  heavenly  way. 

Lame  from  our  birth  ;  and  daily  we  are  brought^ 

And  at  the  gate  called  Beautiful  are  laid  : 
Sometimes  its  wonder  makes  us  free  and  glad ; 

Sometimes  its  grandeur  makes  us  half  afraid. 

The  gate  called  Beautiful ;  and  yet  methinks 

No  word  can  name  it  that  begins  to  tell 
How  soar  its  pillars  to  the  highest  heavens, 

And  how  their  roots  take  hold  on  lowest  helL 

With  what  designs  its  panels  are  inwrought  I 

O^ertraced  with  flowers  and  hiUs  and  shining  seaa. 

And  glorified  by  rise  and  set  of  suns, 
And  Junes  of  blossom  and  October  trees. 


so  The  Gate  CaUed  Beautiful 

So  beautiful,  yet  never  quite  the  same  I 

The  pictures  change  with  every  changing  hour; 
Or  sweeter  things  come  stealing  into  view, 
Which  stronger  things  had  hidden  by  their  power. 

There  all  the  stars  and  systems  go  their  way ; 

There  shines  the  moon,  so  tender  in  her  grace ; 
And  there,  than  moon  or  star  or  sun  more  fair, 

The  blessed  wonder  of  the  human  face. 

Faces  and  faces !  some  of  children  sweet ; 

And  some  of  maidens,  fresh  and  pure  and  true  \ 
And  some  that  lovelier  are  at  evening-time 

Than  any  can  be  while  the  years  are  few. 

This  is  the  gate  called  Beautiful ;  it  swings 
To  music  sweeter  than  was  heard  that  day 

When  Saint  Cecilia,  rapt  in  ecstasy, 

Heard  through  her  trance  the  angelic  roundelay. 

Music  of  little  children  at  their  play  ; 

Of  mothers,  hushing  them  to  sleep  and  dreams  \ 
Of  all  the  birds  that  sing  in  all  the  trees ; 

Of  all  the  murmuring  of  all  the  streams. 

And  at  this  gate,  not  at  wide  intervals, 
Are  we,  lame  from  our  birth,  laid  tenderly, 

But  daily  ;  and  not  one  day  passes  by 
And  we  look  not  upon  this  mystery. 

Gate  of  the  Temple  !  surely  it  is  that  I 

It  opens  not  into  vacuity ; 
For  all  its  beauty,  it  is  not  so  fair 

But  that  a  greater  beauty  there  can  be. 

Thy  beauty,  0  my  Father !  All  is  thine  ; 

But  there  is  beauty  in  thyself,  from  whence 
The  beauty  tbou  hast  made  doth  ever  flow 

In  streams  of  never-failing  dffluence. 

Thou  art  the  Temple  !  and  though  I  am  lame,  — 
Lame  from  my  birth,  and  shall  be  till  I  die,  — 

I  ei^er  through  the  gate  called  Beautiful, 
Aiid  am  alone  with  the,  0  thou  Most  High  I 
Bbookltn,  Oct.  10. 


The  Vicar* 8  Daughter. 


31 


THE    VICAR'S    DAUGHTER; 

AN  AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL  STORY. 

BY   GEORGE  MACDOXALD. 


CHAPTER  XI. 
A   STUPID     CHAPTER. 

Before  proceeding  with  my  own 
■tory,  I  must  mention  that  my  father 
took  every  means  in  his  power  to  find 
out  something  about  the  woman  and 
the  gang  of  gypsies  to  which  she  ap- 
peared to  belong.     I  believe  he  had 
no  definite  end  in  view  further  than 
the  desire  to  lie  able  at  some  future 
[time  to  enter  into  such  relations  with 
[her,  for  her  own  and  her  daughter's 
Mke,  —  if,    indeed,  Theodora    were 
her  daughter,  —  as  might  be  possible. 
But,  the  very  next  day,  he  found  that 
they  had  already  vanished  from  the 
place ;  and  all  the  inquiries  he  set  on 
foot,  by  means  of  friends  and  through 
the  country  constabulary,  were  of  no 
•Tail.     I   believe  ho  was   dissatisfied 
with  himself   in  what  had  occurred, 
thinking  he  ought  to  have  laid  hira- 
•elf  out    at    the    time   to    discover 
whether  she  was  indeed  the  mother, 
tod,  in  that  case,  to  do  for  her  what 
he  could.     Probably,  had  he  done  so, 
he  would  only  have  heaped  difficulty 
iqwu  difficulty;  but,  as  it  was,  if  he 
Was  saved  from  trouble,  he  was  not  de- 
livered from  uneasiness.  Clearly,  how- 
t?er,the  child  must  not  be  exposed  to 
the  danger  of  the  repetition  of  the  at- 
tempt ;  and  the  whole  household  was 
now  so  fully  alive  to  the  necessity  of 
not  losing  sight  of  her  for  a  moment, 
that   her  danger  was  far  less  than   it 
had  been  at  any  time  before. 

I  continued  at  the  Hall  for  six 
veeks,  during  which  my  husband 
came  several  times  to  see  me ;  and,  at 
the  close  of  that  period,  took  me  back 


with  him  to  my  dear  little  home.  The 
rooms,  all  but  the  study,  looked  very 
small  after  those  I  had  left ;  but  I  felt, 
notwithstanding,  that  the  place  was 
my  home.  I  was  at  first  a  little 
ashamed  of  the  feeling;  for  why 
should  I  be  anywhere  more  at  home 
than  in  the  house  of  such  parents  as  ^ 
mine  ?  But  I  presume  there  is  a  cer- 
tain amount  of  the  queenly  element  in 
every  woman,  so  that  she  cannot  feel 
perfectly  at  ease  without  something 
to  govern,  however  small  and  how- 
ever troublesome  her  queendom  may 
be.  At  my  father's,  I  had  every  min- 
istration possible,  and  all  comforts  in 
profusion ;  but  I  had  no  responsibili- 
ties, and  no  rule ;  so  that  sometimes 
I  could  not  help  feeling  as  if  I  was 
idle,  although  I  knew  I  was  not  to  4 
blame.  Besides,  I  could  not  be  at  all 
sure  that  my  big  bear  was  properly 
attended  to ;  and  the  knowledge  that 
he  was  the  most  independent  of  com- 
forts of  all  the  men  I  had  ever  come 
into  any  relation  with,  made  me  only 
feel  the  more  anxious  that  he  should 
not  be  left  to  his  own  neglect.  For 
althougli  my  father,  for  instance,  was 
ready  to  part  with  any  thing,  even  to 
a  favorite  volume,  if  the  good  reason 
of  another's  need  showed  itself,  he 
was  not  at  all  indifferent  in  his  own 
person  to  being  comfortable.  One 
with  his  intense  power  of  enjoying 
the  gentleness  of  the  universe  could 
not  be  so.  Hence  it  was  always  easy 
to  make  him  a  little  present ;  whereas 
I  have  still  to  rack  ray  brains  for 
weeks  before  my  bear's  birthday  comes 
round,  to  think  of  something  that  will 
in  itself  have  a  chance  of  giving  him 


32 


The  Vicar's  Daughter. 


1 


pleasure.  Of  oaurse,  it  would  be  com- 
paratively easy  if  I  bad  plenty  of 
money  to  spare,  aud  hadn' t  **  to  mud- 
dle it  all  away"  in  paying  butchers 
and  bakers,  and  such  like  people. 

So  home  I  went^  to  be  queen  again. 
Frit^nds  came  to  see  me,  but  I  re- 
turned few  of  their  calls.  I  liked 
best  to  sit  in  ray  bedroom.  I  would 
have  preferred  sitting  in  my  wonder- 
ful little  room  ofl'  the  study,  and  I 
tried  that  first ;  but,  the  eame  morn- 
ing, somebody  called  on  Peroivale, 
and  straightway  I  felt  myself  a  pris- 
oner. Tlie  moment  I  heard  the 
strange  voice  through  the  door^,  1 
wanted  to  get  ont^  and  could  not,  of 
course.  Such  a  risk  I  would  not  run 
again.  And  when  Percivale  asked 
me,  the  next  day,  if  I  would  not  go 
down  with  him,  I  told  him  I  could  not 
bear  the  feeling  of  confinement  it 
gave  me. 

"  I  did  mean,"  he  said,  "  to  have 
had  a  door  made  into  the  garden  for 
you,  and  I  consulted  an  ai'chitect 
friend  on  the  subject ;  but  he  soon 
sat  id  lied  me  it  would  make  the  room 
much  too  cold  for  you,  and  so  I  was 
compelled  to  gl'^ot  up  the  tliought." 

**  You  dear  I  *'  I  said.  That  was 
all ;  but  it  waa  enough  for  Percivale, 
who  never  bothered  me,  as  I  have 
heard  of  husbands  doing,  for  demon- 
strations either  of  gratitude  or  affec- 
tion. Such  must  be  of  the  mole-eyed 
sort,  who  can  only  read  large  print. 
So  I  betook  myself  to  my  chamber, 
and  there  sat  and  worked ;  for  I  did 
a  good  deal  of  needle-work  now,  al- 
though I  bad  never  been  fond  of  it  as 
a  girl.  The  constant  recurrence  of 
similar  motions  of  the  tiugers,  one 
stitch  just  the  same  as  another  in 
countless  repetition,  varied  only  by 
the  bother  when  the  thread  grew 
short  and  would  slip  out  of  the  eye  of 
the  needle^  and  yet  not  short  enough 


to  be  exchanged  with  stUl  more  b(ythl 
for  one  too  long,  liad  bern  so  weaa 
some  to  me  in  former  days,  that 
spent  half  my  poeket^monej  to  gq 
ting  the  nee  die- work  done  for  li 
which  my  mother  and  sifter  did  If 
themselves.  For  this  my  fatM 
praised  me,  and  my  raotht*r  tried  I 
scold  me,  and  couldn't.  But  nofpl 
was  all  so  different  \  Instead  of  Ul 
ing  at  plain  stitching  and  lii^mmiil 
and  sewing,  I  seemed  t<j  be  v» 
bit  of  lovely  tapestry  all  the 
so  many  thoughts  and  so  mfoiyi 
tures  went  weaving  themselves] 
the  work ;  while  every  little  bit 
ished  appeared  so  much  of  the 
of  the  universe  actually  done,  — ^ 
compl ished,  ended:  for  the  first  tii 
in  ray  life,  I  began  to  feel  myself  I 
consequence  enough  to  bo  taken  oU 
of.  I  remember  once  laying  doH 
the  little  —  what  I  was  working  at- 
but  I  am  growing  too  communicatij 
and  important. 

My  father  used  often  to  say 
the  commonest  things  in  the  w<j 
were  tlie  loveliest, — ^sky  and  wil 
and  grass  and  such;  now  I  foul 
that  the  commonest  feelings  of  h 
manity — ^for  what  feelings  eould 
commoner  than  those  which  n^ 
made  me  blessed  amongst  women? 
are  those  that  are  fullest  of  tho  \ 
vine.  Surely  thin  looks  as  if 
were  a  God  of  the  whole  earth,  -« 
if  the  world  existed  in  the  rery  l 
datious  of  its  history  and  continti 
by  the  immediate  thought  of  a  i 
ing  thought.  For  simply  bee 
the  life  of  the  world  was  morini 
towards  its  unseen  goal,  and  1 
it  and  had  a  helpless  share  in 
felt  as  if  God  was  with  me,  1 1 
say  I  always  felt  like  this,  —  far  I 
it:  tliere  were  times  when  life  it$ 
seemed  vanishing  in  an  abyss  of  ooi 
ingness,  whea  all  mj  consciou 


:atir 

w3 


The  Vicar* 8  Daughter. 


33 


h1  in  thiSy  that  I  knew  I  was 
d  when  I  could  not  believe 
should  ever  be  restored  to  the 
lug  of  existence.  The  worst 
i-as^  that,  in  such  moods,  it 
as  if  I  had  hitherto  been  de- 
my self  with  raiobow  fancies 
i  as  I  bad  been  aware  of  bless- 
as  there  was,  in  fact,  no  wine 
apart  from  its  effervescence. 
leo  one  day  I  told  Percivale 
while  I  was  thus  oppressed, 
1  I  could  not  speak ;  but  in  a 
•  moment  whose  happiness  I 
ted  —  something  of  what  I 
r  said  one  thing  which  has 
ed  me  eixer  since  in  such  cir- 
ices :  — 

a't    grumble  at   the    poverty, 
.  by  which   another   is  made 

fess  I  did  not  see  all  at  once 
'  meant ;  but  I  did  after  think- 
T  it  for  a  while.  And  if  I 
arned  any  valuable  lesson  in 
it  is  this,  that  no  one's  Jeel- 
'  a  mea:>ure  of  eternal  facts, 
ivinter  passed  slowly  away, — 
1.  frost,  snow,  thaw,  succeeding 
tli.T  in  all  the  seeming  disor- 
t\\^  se:i:^on.  A  good  many 
LiipneneJ,  I  believe;  but  I 
emember  any  of  them.  My 
wrote,  oifering  me  Dora  for 
L'.i«>ri ;  but  somehow  I  preferred 
rirh  .>ut  her.  One^  great  com- 
^  g  K>1  news  about  Connie,  who 
ting  on  famously.  But  even 
vel  me  so  little  that  I  began 
k  I  was  turning  into  a  crab, 
incased  in  the  shell  of  my 
Iti-hness.  The  thought  made 
.  Tile  fact  that  I  could  cry 
d  me,  for  how  could  I  be  heart- 
.ijii^  as  I  could  cry  ?  But  then 
lie  thought  it  was  for  myself, 
a  hard-heartedness  I  was  cry- 
not  certainly  for  joy  that  Con- 


nie was  getting  better.  "At  least, 
however,"  I  said  to  myself,  "  I  am  not 
content  to  be  selfish.  I  am  a  little 
troubled  that  I  am  not  good."  And 
then  I  tried  to  look  up,  and  get  my 
needlework,  which  always  did  me 
good,  by  helping  me  to  reflect  It 
is,  I  can't  help  thinking,  a  great  pity 
that  needlework  is  going  so  much  out 
of  fashion ;  for  it  tends  more  to  make 
a  woman  —  one  who  thinks,  that  is  — 
acquainted  with  herself  than  all  the 
sermons  she  is  ever  likely  to  hear. 

My  father  came  to  see  me  several 
times,  and  was  all  himself  to  me; 
but  I  could  not  feel  quite  comfortable 
with  him, —  I  don't  in  the  least  know 
why.  I  am  afraid,  much  afraid,  it 
indicates  something  very  wrong  in 
me  somewhere.  But  ho  seemed  to 
understand  me ;  and  always,  the  mo- 
ment he  left  me,  the  tide  of  confidence 
began  to  flow  afresh  in  the  ocean 
that  lay  about  the  little  island  of  my 
troubles.  Then  I  knew  ho  was  my 
own  father, —  something  that  even 
my  husband  could  not  be,  and  would 
not  wish  to  be  to  me. 

In  the  month  of  March,  my  mother 
came  to  see  me;  and  tliat  was  all 
pleasure.  My  father  did  not  always 
see  when  I  was  not  able  to  listen  to 
him,  though  he  was  most  considerate 
when  he  did ;  but  my  niotlier  —  why, 
to  be  with  her  was  like  being  with 
one's  own  —  mother,  I  was  actually 
going  to  write.  There  is  nothing  bet- 
ter than  that  when  a  woman  is  in 
such  trouble,  except  it  be  —  what  my 
fixther  knows  more  about  than  I  do : 
I  wish  I  did  know  all  about  it. 

She  brought  with  her  a  young  wo- 
man to  take  the  place  of  cook,  or 
rather  general  servant,  in  our  little 
household.  She  had  been  kitchen- 
maid  in  a  small  family  of  my  mother's 
acquaintance,  and  had  a  good  char- 
acter for  honesty  and  plain  cooking. 


34 


The   Vicar's  Dmighfer. 


Perci  rale's  more  experienced  ear 
6oon  discovered  that  she  wm*  Irish. 
This  fact  had  not  been  repredented 
to  my  mother ;  for  the  girl  had  been 
ill  England  from  childhood,  and  her 
niiijti>'*s  seemed  either  not  to  have 
knovvu  it,  or  not  to  have  thought  of 
mentioning  it.  Certainly,  my  mother 
Wiis  f;tr  too  just  to  have  allowed  it  to 
inflaenre  her  choice,  notwitlistanding 
the  prrjudicea  against  Irish  women  in 
Eiigiiiih  families,' — prejudices  not 
without  a  general  foundation  in 
reason.  For  ray  part,  I  should  have 
been  perfectly  satisfied  with  my 
mothers  choice,  even  if  I  had  not 
been  so  indifferent  at  the  time  to  ali 
that  was  going  on  in  the  lower  re- 
gions of  the  house.  But  while  my 
rauth»}r  was  there.  I  knew  well  enough 
that  nothing  could  go  wrong;  and  my 
housekeeping  rainil  had  never  been 
BO  mucK  at  eaae  since  we  w^ere  mar- 
ried. It  was  very  delightful  not  to 
be  accountable;  and,  for  the  present, 
I  felt  exonerated  from  all  responsi- 
bilities. 

CHAPTER  Xn. 
AN    INTRODUCTION. 

I  WOKE  one  morning,  after  a  sound 
sleep,  —  not  so  sound,  however,  but 
that  I  htul  been  dreaming,  and  that, 
when  I  awoke,  I  could  recall  my 
dreiim.  It  was  a  very  odd  one,  I 
thought  I  was  a  hen,  strutting  about 
amongst  riiks  of  corn,  picking  here 
and  scratching  there,  followed  by  a 
whole  brood  of  chickens,  toward 
which  I  felt  exceedingly  benevolent 
and  attentive.  Suddenly  I  heard  the 
scream  of  a  hawk  in  the  air  above 
me,  and  instantly  gave  the  proper  cry 
to  fetch  the  little  creatures  under  my 
wings.  They  came  scurrying  to  me 
as  fast  as  their  legs  could  carry  them,  — 
all  but  one,  which  wouldn*t  mind  my 
-cry,   although   I  kept    repeating    it 


again  and  again.  Meantime 
hawk  kept  screaming ;  and  I  felt  9t^ 
if  I  didn't  care  for  any  of  those  tllA^ 
were  safe  under  ray  wings,  hut  only 
for  the  solitary  creature  that  kept 
specking  away  as  if  nothing  was  the 
matter.  About  it  I  grew  so  terrj 
anxious,  that  at  length  I  woke  iri 
cry  of  misery  and  terror. 

The    moment    I    opened   my 
there  was  my  mother,  standing 
me.     The  room  was  so  dark  tl 
thonght  for  a  moment  what  ft 
there  must  be ;  but  the  next,  I  f( 
every  thing  at  hearing  a  little  cry 
which  I  verily  believe,  in   my  srtupii 
dream,  I  had  taken  for  the  voice 
the  hawk ;  whereas  it  was  the  ci 
my  first  and  only  chicken,  whi" 
bad    not   yet    seen,    but   which 
mother  now  held  in  her  grand*mi 
ly  arms,  ready  to  hand  her  to  m* 
dared  not  speak  ;  for  I  felt  very 
and  was  afraid  of  crying  from  del 
I  looked  in  my  mother^s  face  ;  and^ 
folded  back  the  clothes,  and  laid 
baby  llown  besi<le  me,  with  its  li 
head  resting  on  my  arm, 

^^  Draw  back  the  curtain  a  1 
bit,  mother  dear,**  I  whispered,  ** 
let  me  see  what  it  is  like,'* 

I  believe  I  said  t7,  for  I  wai 
quite  a  mother  yet.  My  mother 
as  I  requested ;  a  ray  of  clear  sp 
light  fell  upon  the  face  of  the 
white  thing  by  my  t^ide,  —  lor  w 
she  was,  though  most  babies  are  re< 
and  if  I  dared  not  speak  befoa 
could  not  now.  My  mother  v 
away  again,  and  sat  down  by  the  1 
side,  leaving  me  with  my  bahv»  N< 
shall  I  forget  the  unutterable  coaj 
of  that  hour.  It  was  not  glad 
nor  was  it  thankfulness,  that  filled 
heart,  but  a  certain  absolute  cont 
raent,  — ^just  on  the  point,  but  for 
want  of  strength,  of  blossoming 
unspeakable  gladness  and  thaal 


The' Vicar  *8  Daughter. 


35 


Somehow,  too,  there  was  min- 
ith  it  a  sense  of  dignity,  as  if 
rindicated  for  myself  a  right  to 
in  the  creation ;  for  was  I  not 
at  least  a  link  in  the  marvel- 
bain  of  existence,  in  carrying 
designs  of  the  great  Maker  ? 
tat  the  thought  was  there,  — 
he  feeling,  which  afterwards 
the  thought,  in  order  to  account 
own  heing.  Besides,  the  state 
feet  repose  after  what  had 
was  in  itself  bliss ;  the  very 
>f  weakness  was  delightful,  for 
earned  the  right  to  be  weak,  to 
much  as  I  pleased,  to  be  im- 
t,  and  to  he  congratulated, 
lehow  I  had  got  through.  The 
i  lay  behind  me  ;  and  here,  for 
ie  of  any  one  who  will  read  my 
rords,  I  record  the  conviction, 
Q  one  way  or  other,  special  in- 
al  help  is  given  to  every  crea- 
^  endure  to  the  end.  I  think  I 
leard  my  father  say,  and  hith- 
;  has  been  my  own  experience, 
Jwav-s  when  suffering,  whether 
1  or  bodily,  approached  the 
where  further  endurance  ap- 
l  impossible,  the  pulse  of  it  be- 
I  ebb.  and  a  lull  ensued.  I  do 
enture  to  found  any  general 
ion  upon  this :  I  only  state  it 
u:t  of  my  own  experience.  He 
Ijes  not  allow  any  man  to  be 
ed  above  that  he  is  able  to  bear, 
less  acts  in  the  same  way  in  all 
of  trials. 

^aa  listening  to  the  gentle  talk 
me  in  the  darkened  room  — 
ftening,  indeed,  only  aware  that 
;  words  were  spoken.  Whether 
»  dozing,  I  do  not  know ;  but 
hing  touched  my  lips.  I  did 
tart.  I  had  been  dreadfully 
to  starting  for  a  long  time,  — 
cb  80  that  I  was  quite  ashamed 
imes,  for    I    would    even    cry 


out,  —  I  who  had  always  been  so 
sharp  on  feminine  affectations  before  ;  9 
but  now  it  seemed  as  if  nothing  could 
startle  me.  I  only  opened  my  eyes ; 
and  there  was  my  great  big  huge 
bear  looking  down  on  me,  with  some- 
thing in  his  eyes  ^  had  never  seen 
there  before.  But  even  his  presence 
could  not  ripple  the  waters  of  my 
deep  rest.  I  gave  him  half  a  smile,  — 
I  knew  it  was  but  half  a  smile,  but  I 
thought  it  would  do,  —closed  my  eyes, 
and  sunk  again,  not  into  sleep,  but 
into  that  same  blessed  repose.  I  re- 
member wondering  if  I  should  feel 
any  thing  like  that  for  the  first  hour 
or  two  after  I  was  dead.  May  there 
not  one  day  be  such  a  repose  for  all,  — 
only  the  heavenly  counterpart,  coming 
of  perfect  activity  instead  of  weary 
success  ? 

This  was  all  but  the  beginning  of 
endlessly  varied  pleasures.  I  dare 
say  the  mothers  would  let  me  go  on 
for  a  good  while  in  this  direction,  —  ^ 
perhaps  even  some  of  the  fathers  9 
could  stand  a  little  more  of  it ;  but  I 
must  remember,  that,  if  anybody  reads 
this  at  all,  it  will  have  multitudes  of 
readers  in  whom  the  chord  which 
could  alone  respond  to  such  experi- 
ences hangs  loose  over  the  sounding- 
board  of  their  being. 

By  slow  degrees  the  daylight,  the 
light  of  work,  that  is,  began  to  pene- 
trate me,  or  rather  to  rise  in  my  being 
from  its  own  hidden  sun.  First  I 
began  to  wash  and  dress  my  baby 
myself.  One  who  has  not  tried  that 
kind  of  amusement  cannot  know  what 
endless  pleasure  it  affords.  I  do  not 
doubt  that  to  the  paternal  spectator 
it  appears  monotonous,  unproductive, 
improgressive ;  but  then  he,  looking 
upon  it  from  the  outside,  and  regard- 
ing the  process  with  a  speculative 
compassion,  and  not  with  sympathy, 
80  cannot  know  the  communion  into 


...♦••    V-.    '".I ';^i    v:;ir    zl"  zr.'  jtz^.  tt  »-•■"-  ~ii«?  i»'i:i..'Li  of  3Iisj 

^    I -•;   L,    -;"    r    :i    "IT.-  I- -i — ---      ■:    if-r    ir-c   Tii.-:   :•>   ;hii 

■:■.     .-1.'...     ■        :-     1-      ^     ^1         r.-^     ^r^^.'-    .z    I    VicvL      Bj    thi 

*       . ,  —  .'  :>-*..    .  u    '     ■  ■■^.:»"-    .:..r  v ;  -    v  :;.r   i  ■zLyr""  r.  a  "r'li*  she  cap 

■     ■■        ■   .    ■-.-L      -'.  -...::jr   v  - -•  rr-    :^r  i.-n- -"  :-_-:  x-.-.'i  ItT  1 " 

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•  •■   V    ...    -   -..J    IV--    :t»"  ■    o»"L.  ii~"^-L    n   ".ii*    i"":i-.!-.*..i.-:-7    .:  oabv 

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-        .   1 :  -  •-  Z  -  .  L   ::^  ;...i-  ::  ^  :■'::  ;-. 

..     ■'-.■■:   -.c.  ■'-      :l  ':..-_'■ '-c         •  1"  1^ -■- -■.:.:!. :;  I:?.- ^^  <ai.L 
■...•'    —  '■ .   ,      r    ••  .—:,-.  I   T:i  V  •  y        ;  :-  I  i-r.  L±-4u  1  T." .;  dnd  he 

•     •  •..      .-    I    l:-_   -.■•'.:'.-  "i         •  .:-:-  -  -Trir7.  ?!if  :?  :!ie  nices 

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;. .    •  ;    -.-  .  ■■--■  -.:~  11   • .-:  vi,?  : :  -  1,.  -:■:  ...  :-.-i-:    j  r   Li-i.  jl.-!  neve: 

L  :    ; :  -  ■^•:--,   : :    i-— ■  r:  :_-:  ''  z  ^'  l^         '  -  3  "^  '.•  ■*^*-     --  '  -il ■".-.■■  :.  .■  repeated 

■■  . ;--    I    :-•.       i~.----   L-izr—  -": ::  ■•■■•■:_..:•:  ^:i  :'-:.:  Jir:  in  ^::i»t.  t< 

i-  -    .     :.j.    -■     .:  -:■—    :.l:->    .:  :'■ :  :"  i-_   I    ::--     t _;'...-..    :  r    ;i:    leujjtl 

!.    J----     :  -    ■■    ■:■   ■    :.z      I     -'■;.'  1  :m^\l.     .:  — :  '.■■.:  I  ':-.'.  :.j  no  inor 

!      -■.'."-      -   /    -is    i    - '    is  irf  ::  It  ;•..:..:::/  ;    ::.:r;.-.  I-m:  aui  a' 

':"-.'    "_7   .-^rT  .:  i  ™ .:.::.  .lh:  : ..?  ml  .v   v.:  ^  .^  :;  -: - /^ -.  ;.;^  arms."' 
^-  --    "1-?:   '  ?    ~1tZ.    i.z.7  :-r.  T>:»r-        '■  "^  :~  v.  "  :  .:r  !•  i!  ": !     BaVy,  youi 

-  i  ^.:::"-~ii.  :::  r-  t:*^':-.:.;-^  /  ^  :••   ' "'    si"  :    :"/    '..>V.i::i;     a:ul    tb 

;..':.    :-ivS     .^r     :r-;  "*     \."' .-         I:   :?  ::.:ir    I    r:s-!.i::.vl    wlio    tlr 

V  />::;:-  :.<i  :i.T.-r.  .i"  1  yrv::::::^  :■;  ::"7:::  —    :   <;::::i    I    s.iy    ti!:li  ? - 

ki.    V  ill    :,':.::   :':.:•  v:.\v.\z-v:.;\z   ::  y-?*.::  :::   ;.;r  :.:,!:::* y  T".ir:y  was.     H 

^     '.     I:   w.^<   ;;:;   i:;:--:  -y.^   ...zr:-  ^.w<  ::;     y  ."..z-'z  brrlior  of  my  Pe: 

t^  :      I  !.  7  ::    :'.r    :  .;■"  jT-r*  "i :    17.  ;:v::.;^.  "  y    :.:\'.:w    Tk'ZT, — srill  moi 

'.    .    :■.::  ■.'.■--   :.■/'.-.-    ■.:-.:7:"^    .Ls.<;7:»  /.:  v. v.<v.  .■;.>>:",:'.  ::\.i:^.  iio  ;  .'f  similar  trus 

t::    :...:     /.i7!:;j  1  ■;7  :::    ;;:s  ^r:::?.  :>  w:7:':::;o?<,  "u:  los<  oii:i.inimity;  tori 

I..      .-:  :.>l-.-.i-.".:,  .i::.!  ivo:i  ::i:'. ;  :i:.\-  was  >-,:^;;;:  :>  <ii  IK-ii  olovations  at 

TV.'.    -./.  Li  ^. ;.»::.  ■:!     j.:     :1:o     i'v7:y.  d^i^rt  ><:■">   of  :ho  inner  liaromotc 

U  -  .  v.:.^  i  •'i  >i.i:,  Ar.vl   iyv;r::ij;  o.;:  I  <:ui*.'.  h.iw   nwro  :«>  roll  about  hi 

I  :    \\\<   v*.'..*r.:\    as   ho   ^rx:o:uu\l.    a  by  ar.vl  by.     Meantime  it  is  euou£ 

ir"  >>  .>f  .^'.1  j^  »r:,  'no  saia  in  :ho  solvr-  to  nionrion  that  my  daughter  — ho 

cs:  v.^'av  :  —  grand  I  thought  it  when  I  lirst  da 

*'v'iiarlos   IVrvnYalo,   with    all    the  ttu/  ihiU'jhter!  —  now  began  her  0 

solomnirv  suitable  to  the  occasiinii  I,  quaint auoe   with   him.     Before   loJ 


The  Vicar  *8  Daughter. 


37 


as  her  chief  faTorite  next  to  her 
er  and  —  I  am  sorry  I  cannot 
rientionsly  add  father  ;  for,  at  a 
in  early  period  of  her  history, 
hild  showed  a  decided  preference 
er  nncle  over  her  father. 
It  it  is  time  I  put  a  stop  \xi  this 
of  maternal  memories.  Having 
introduced  my  baby  and  her  Un- 
U>ger,  I  close  the  chapter. 

CHAPTER  Xm. 

P-IRST   DIXXEB-PARTT.        A  NEG- 
ATIVED  PROPOSAL. 

may  well  be  believed  that  we 
not  yet  seen  much  company  in 
ittle  house.  To  parties  my  hus- 
\  had  a  great  dislike;  evening 
ies  he  eschewed  utterly,  and 
rr  accepted  an  invitation  to  din- 
except  it  were  to  the  house  of  a 
i'L  or  to  that  of  one  of  my  few 
rives  in  London,  whom,  for  my 
\  he  would  not  displease.  There 
?not  many,  even  among  his  artist- 
laintances,  whom  he  cared  to 
: :  ari«l,  altogether,  I  fear  he  passed 
ID  unso«.iable  man.  I  am  certain 
iTjiild  have  sold  more  pictures  if 
hai  accepted  what  invitations 
le  ia  Iiis  way.  But  to  hint  at 
!i  a  thing  would,  I  knew,  crystal- 
liis  dislike  into  a  resolve. 
)ae  day,  after  I  had  got  quite 
'a;i  again,  as  I  was  sitting  by  him 
the  study,  with  my  baby  on  my 
*,  I  profK)sed  that  we  should  ask 
le  friends  to  dinner.  Instead  of 
acting  to  the  procedure  upon  gen- 
i  principles,  which  I  confess  I  had 
f  anticipated,  he  only  asked  me 
>m  I  thought  of  inviting.  When 
icntioned  the  Morleys,  he  made  no 
Ij.  but  went  on  with  his  painting 
i  he  had  not  heard  me  ;  whence  I 
•w,  of  course,  that  the  proposal  was 
ign^eable  to  him. 


"  You  see,  we  have  been  twice  to 
dine  with  them,"  I  said.  J^ 

"Well,     don't    you     think     that  ^^ 
enough  for  a  while  ?  " 

*^  I'm  talking  of  asking  them  hero 
now." 

"Couldn't  you  go  and  see  your 
cousin  some  mormng  instead  ?  " 

"It's  not  that  I  want  to  see  my 
cousin  particularly.  I  want  to  ask 
them  to  dinner." 

"Oh!"  he  said,  as  if  he  couldn't 
in  the  least  make  out  what  I  was 
after, "  I  thought  people  asked  people 
because  they  desired  their  company." 

"But,  you  «ee,  we  owe  them  a 
dinner." 

"Owe  them  a  dinner!  Did  yoa 
borrow  one,  then  ?  " 

"Percivale,  why  will  you  pretend 
to  be  so  stupid  ?  " 

"Perhaps  I'm  only  pretending  to 
be  the  other  thing." 

"Do  you  consider  yourself  under 
no  obligation  to  people  who  ask  you 
to  dinner?"  ^ 

"None  in  the  least  —  if  I  accept 
the  invitation.  That  is  the  natural 
acknowledgment  of  their  kindness. 
Surely  my  company  is  worth  my  din- 
ner. It  is  far  more  trouble  to  me  to 
put  on  black  clothes  and  a  white 
choker  and  go  to  their  house,  than  it 
is  for  them  to  ask  me,  or,  in  a  house 
like  theirs,  to  have  the  necessary 
preparations  made  for  receiving  me 
in  a  manner  befitting  their  dignity. 
I  do  violence  to  my  own  feelings  in 
going :  is  not  that  enough  ?  You 
know  how  much  I  prefer  a  chop  with 
my  wife  alone  to  the  grandest  dinner 
the  grandest  of  her  grand  relations 
could  give  me." 

"Now,  don't  you  make  game  of 
my  grand  relations.  I'm  not  sure 
that  you  haven't  far  grander  relations 
yourself,  oidy  you  say  so  little  about 
them,   they   might    all    have     been 


38 


The  Vicar's  Daughter. 


transported  for  bouBebreaking.  Tell 
me  honestly,  don't  you  think  it  natu- 
ral, if  a  friend  asks  you  to  dinner,  that 
you  tjhould  ask  him  again?"' 

*•  Yes,  if  it  would  give  bim  arj 
pleasure.  Bat  just  imajiz.*  y:cr 
Cousin  Morley  dining  a:  ccr  ^trif- 
1)*}  yi>u  think  he  wyjlA  envy  ^  -  ~ 

"  Of  course  we  si-iiC  iAT*  ftrozri- 
bo«lv  in  to  help  JeT"n.k" 

-  \z.'i  w-*a:  Tbju:k^»y  c-aII*  vvCi 

"  \V-;*.  I  w.^ijLM::*':  3iT-*  :h^ra  v\?M.'' 

-  !:>■::  :i'fv  w^.^iil-i  :e." 

I  wjtf  oy  :!i:*  ::rw  *.'  n^^Hy  cry- 
in^»  -iut:  I  sii-i  3«?:i:r:c  r^^w. 

'■  My  *ovtf/'  he  tetisi::ie».L  - 1  objev'r 
to  :he  wa.;!'*  :h:u^.     I:'*  all  tV,<e  t%>- 

cliaicioti  ro  Jk^kiu^  a  rew  triead*  who 
would  e:i;.\v  ts.n*JLC  re\>?iveKl  iu  ihe 
same  srylf  **  y^.*^ir  rjk:her  or  my 
bn»:h^'r;  tiAitiely,  to  ouo  of  o;ir'bo::er 
di;i:ierss  and  ivraa;v>  s*.^iuo:hi:is:  Iv:- 
UT  ro  driuk  :h^a  I  oan  A:!^.^rvl  evory 
day;  b  u :  j  us:  i  \\  \  v.  x  w  i :  ■  i  w  ha:  u:io;kiy 
vvuiiKisci'.Jti  Mr.  M.^rloY  woiiivl  roc-uvl 
our  |wr  A:u>-.:io:is  ^^vou  if  you  had 
au  vw^^isui;*!  vwk  and  an  undor- 
takor*s  Tuau.  Auvl  wha:  would  ho  do 
wUIiou:  his  itiass  of  vlry  shorry  af:or 
his  ^oul^  and  his  hvvk  and  oham- 
|u^uo  l.i:or.  !iot  to  monciou  his  duo 
oLvroc  v»r  lawuv  ^v^rt  aftor\vat\ls?  I 
dou*5  know  how  to  j^*t  those  things 
^vssl  ouou<h  for  him  without  laying 
ill  a  ^uvk  »  and,  that  youkuv^w,  wouUl 
Iv  »xs  .ilvsui\l  asH  it  is  iui^v^siiiblo." 

•'  iV».  \ou  >;outlomon  always  think 
JK»  uuuh  v»f  I  ho  wiuo  1  " 

*'  livhoxo  iuv\  it  is  as  luvossiiry  to 
Mr  Mxuloy\H  voiufort  as  the  vlaintios 
vvHi  would  pi\»\ido  him  with.  Indeed, 
it  wvHiKl  bo  a  oruolty  to  jwk  him. 
Ho  would  not.  wuld  not,  oujoy  it," 


"If  he  didn't  like  it,  he  needn 
come  again,'*  I  said,  cross  with  tb 
objections  of  which  I  could  not  but  se 

the  ;35noe. 

-Well,  I  must  say  you  have  a 
••oi  zszrry.ZL  of  hospitality,"  said  m. 
rtejiz:  -  Y:-a  may  be  certain,"  he  n 
SL=>e<i.  afrer  a  moment'^s  pause,  '^  tha 
a  :nfc.i  jo  -rell  aware  of  his  own  im 
ri:r:a2.-:i»  will  rake  it  far  more  as 
coflipli2ie:i:  ;ha:  you  do  not  presum 
;o  -^Juviie  h:ai  to  your  house,  but  ai 
%.v:itea:  to  enjoy  his  society  when  h 
asks  you  to  hiaw" 

"- 1  don't  oh-»se  to  take  such  an  in 
ferior  {»s:::on/*  I  said. 

•"  You  can't  help  it,  my  dear,"  h 
retane«l  "S.viaHy  considered,  yo 
tzm  his  inferior.  You  cannot  giv 
dinners  he  would  regrard  with  an; 
thins:  l-erter  than  a  friendly  contempi 
combined  with  a  certain  mild  indig 
nation  at  your  having  presumed  t 
ask  Aivi.  used  to  such  ditiferen 
ways.  1:  is  far  more  graceful  to  ao 
cept  :he  smull  faot,  and  let  him  ha?« 
his  whim.  whiL-h  is  not  a  subversivi 
one  or  a:  all  dangr.-rv.vas  to  the  com 
muniry,  Iviii^  of  a  sort  easv  to  cure 
Ha  :  lia :  h.i : " 

"  May  I  a^k  what  you  are  laughinj 
at  ?  "  I  said  wi:h  sevoriry. 

"I  was  only  fancying  how  such  '< 
man  must  feel,  —  if  what  your  blesse 
father  bolievos  be  true,  —  when  ho  i 
stripTHHl  all  at  onoe  of  every  [»ossib] 
source  of  oonsetpieuoe,  —  striiiped  o 
{v^sition,  funds,  house,  including  cd 
lar,  clothes,  body,  including  ston 
ach  " — 

'•  Therw  there  I  don't  be  vulga; 
It  is  not  like  you,  Peroivale.'' 

•'  My  love,  there  is  far  greater  vu 
gurity  in  refusing  to  acknowledge  th 
inevitable,  either  in  society  or  i 
physiology.  Just  ask  my  brothc 
his  experience  in  regard  of  the  woz 
to  which  you  object,*' 


The  Vicar* 8  Daughter. 


39 


« I  will  leave  that  to  you." 
"  Don't  be  vexed  with  me,  my  wife," 
he  said. 

"  I  don^t  like  not  to  be  allowed  to 
pay  my  debts." 

**  Back  to  the  starting-point,  like  a 
bimted  hare !     A  woman's  way,"  he 
nid  merrily,   hoping    to  make    me 
laogh :  for  he  could  not  doubt  I  should 
Me  the  absurdity  of  my  position  with 
ft  moment's  reflection.     But  I  was  out 
fif  temper,  and  chose  to  pounce  upon 
tike  liberty  taken  with  my  sex,  and 
leg-dri  it  as   an   insult.     Without   a 
¥op1  I  Tosey  pressed  my  baby  to  my 
\osom  as  if  her  mother  had  been  left 
ft  widow,  and  swept  away.     Percivale 
itiited  to  his  feet.     I  did  not  see,  but 
I  knew  he  gazed  after  me  for  a  mo- 
at; then  I  heard  him  sit  down  to 
Vb  painting  as  if  nothing  had  hap- 
|aie<L  but.  I  knew,  with  a  sharp  pain 
ittide  his   great   chest     For  me,   I 
faind  the  precipice,  or  Jacob's  ladder, 
I  had  to  climb,  very  subversive  of  my 
igiiitv ;   for  when  a  woman    has   to 
kid  a  baby  in  one  arm,  and  with  the 
Uni  of  the  other  lift  the  front  of  her 
tot  ia  or«ler  to  walk  up    an    almost 
pcn-endicular  stairca:*o,  it  is  quite  im- 
pafc»;Mi'  f  .»r  her  to  sicerp  any  more. 

WLrQ  I  reached    the  top,  I  don't 

know  how  it  was,  but  the  picture  he 

kid  made  of  me,  with  the  sunset-shine 

oomin-^  though  the  window,  flashed 

Vfon  my  memory.     All  dignity  for- 

jotten,  I  bdted  through  the  door  at 

tbe  !..»[»,  flung  my  baby  into  the  arms 

ef  h-r  nar>e,  turned,  almost  tumbled 

keaili-'H^  d'jwn  the  precipice,  and  al- 

togfrtii^-r  tumbled  down   at    my  hus- 

baiid'?   chair.     I   couldn't   speak;    I 

oxild  only  lay  my  head  on  his  knees. 

'*I>arling,"  he  said,  "you  shall  ask 

Ae  gn-at  Pan  Jan  with  his   button 

•top.  if  you  like.     I'll  do  my  best  for 

l>irn  ^ 

Between   crying   and  laughing,  I 


nearly  did  what  I  have  never  really 
done  yet,  —  I  nearly  went  off.  There !  i(P 
I  am  sure  that  phrase  is  quite  as  ob- 
jectionable as  the  word  I  wrote  a  lit- 
tle while  ago  ;  and  there  it  shall  stand, 
as  a  penance  for  having  called  any 
word  my  husband  used  vulgar. 

"  I  was  very  naughty,  Percivale,"  I 
said.  "I  will  give  a  dinner-party, 
and  it  shall  be  such  as  you  shall  en- 
joy, and  I  won't  ask  Mr.  Morley." 

"Thank  you,  my  love,"  he  said; 
"  and  the  next  time  Mr.  Morley  asks 
us  I  will  go  without  a  grumble,  and 
make  myself  as  agreeable  as  I  can." 

CHAPTER  XIIL 
MY  FIRST   DINNER-PARTY. 

It  may  have  seemed,  to  some  of 
my  readers,  occasion  for  surprise  that 
the  mistress  of  a  household  should 
have  got  so  far  in  the  construction 
of  a  book  without  saying  a  word 
about  her  own  or  other  people's  ser- 
vants in  general.  Such  occasion  shall  ^ 
no  longer  be  afforded  them ;  for  now  ^ 
I  am  going  to  say  several  things 
about  one  of  mine,  and  thereby  intro- 
duce a  few  results  of  much  experience 
and  some  thought.  I  do  not  pretend 
to  have  made  a  single  discovery, 
but  only  to  have  achieved  what  I 
count  a  certain  measure  of  success; 
which,  however,  I  owe  largely  to  my 
own  poverty,  and  the  stupidity  of  my 
cook. 

I  have  had  a  good  many  servants 
since,  but  Jemima  seems  a  fixture. 
How  this  has  come  about,  it  would  be 
impossible  to  say  in  ^er  so  many  words. 
Over  and  over  I  have  felt,  and  may 
feel  again  before  the  day  is  ended,  a 
profound  sympath^k  with  Sindbad  the 
sailor,  when  t"he  Ola  Man  of  the  Sea 
was  on  his  back,  and  the  hope  of  ever 
getting  him  off  it  had  not  yet  begun 
to  dawn.  She  has  by  turns  every 
fault   under  the   sun,  —  I   say  fault 


40 


The  Vicar's  Daughter. 


only;  will  struggle  with  one  for  a 
day,  and  succumb  to  it  for  a  month ; 
while  the  smallest  amount  of  praise 
is  suificriont  to  render  her  incapable 
of  dosorviug  a  word  of  commendation 
for  a  week.  She  is  intensely  stupid, 
with  a  remarkable  genius — yes, 
genius  —  for  cooking.  My  father 
says  that  all  stupidity  is  caused,  or  at 
least  maintained,  by  conceit.  I  can- 
not quite  accompany  him  to  his  con- 
clusions; but  I  have  seen  plainly 
enougli  that  the  stupidest  people  are 
the  most  conceited,  which  in  some 
degree  favors  them.  It  was  long  an 
imi)ossibility  to  make  her  see,  or  at 
least  own,  that  she  was  to  blame  for 
any  thing.  If  the  dish  she  had  last 
time  cooked  to  perfection  made  its  aj)- 
pearance  the  next  time  uneatable,  she 
would  lay  it  all  to  the  silly  oven, 
which  was  too  hot  or  too  cold;  or  the 
silly  pepper-pot,  the  top  of  which  fell 
off  as  she  was  using  it.  She  had  no 
sense  of  the  value  of  proportion,  — 
would  insist,  for  instance,  that  she  had 
niadi!  the  cake  precisely  as  she  had 
been  told,  but  suddenly  betray  that 
she  had  not  weighed  the  flour,  which 
(utvhl  he  of  no  consequence,  seeing 
she  had  wci^jhed  every  thing  else. 

"  IMcasj',  'ni,  could  you  eat  your 
dinner  now?  for  it's  all  ready,"  she 
canic  saying  an  hour  before  dinner- 
time, the.  very  first  day  after  my 
niolhrr  Icfi.  Even  now  her  desire 
to  h(»  piinetual  is  chiefly  evidenced 
by  absurd  precipitancy,  to  the  dan- 
ger of  (ioing  every  thing  either  to  a 
pulp  or  a  ('intiei;.  Yet  here  she  is, 
and  here  shc^  is  likely  to  remain,  so 
far  as  I  see,  till  death,  or  some  other 
calastroplns  us  do  part.  The  reason 
of  it  is,  thai,  with  all  her  iaults  — 
and  they  Jire  innumerable  —  she  has 
some  h«'art  ;  yos,  after  deducting  all 
that  «••*'»  h(.  |:Li,|  It,  |]n,  account  of  a 
certii/**  ^'iiMiinjr  pt'rception  that  she 


is  well  off,  she  has  yet  a  good  dc 
of  genuine  attachment  left ;  and  afl 
setting  down  the  half  of  her  poss4 
sions  to  the  blarney  which  is  t 
natural  weapon  of  the*  weak-witt 
Celt,  there  seems  yet  left  in  her  < 
the  vanishing  clan  instinct  enough 
render  her  a  jealous  partisan  of  h 
master  and  mistress. 

Those   who    care    otily  for  beii 
well-served    will  of  course  feel  co 
temptuous     towards    any    one    w! 
would  put  up  with  such  a  woman  i 
a  single  moment  after  she  could  fij 
another ;  but  both  I  and  my  husbai 
have  a  strong  preference  for  living 
a  family,  rather  than  in  a  hotel 
know   many  houses    in    which    t 
master  and  mistress  are  far  more  li 
the  lodgers,  on  sufferance  of  their  <M 
servants.     I  have  seen  a  worthy  \% 
go  about  wringing  her  hands  becat 
she  could  not  get  her  orders  attend 
to  in  the  emergency  of  a  slight  ac 
dent,  not  daring  to  go  down  to  I 
own  kitchen,  as  her  love  prompfa 
and  expedite  the  ministration.     I « 
at  least  mistress  in  my  own  how 
my  servants  are,  if  not  yet  so  mi 
members   of  the   family  as   I  coi 
wish,  gradually  becoming   more  i 
there  is  a  circulation  of  common  1 
through  the  household,  rendering 
an  organization,  although  as  yet  p 
haps  a  low  one ;  I  am  sure  of  bei 
obeyed,  and  there  are  no  underhi 
out-of-door  connections.     When  I 
to  the  houses  of  my  rich  relatio 
and  hear  what  they  say  concern; 
their  servants,  I  feel  as  if  they  w 
living  over  a  mine,  which  might  f 
day  be  sprung,  and  blow  them  int 
state  of  utter  helplessness ;  and  I 
turn   to   my   house    ble.ssed    in 
knowledge  that  my  little  kingdon 
my  own,  and  that,  although  it  is 
free   from   internal   upheavings    i 
stormy  commotions^  these  are  sucli 


The  Vicar's  Daughter. 


41 


thin  the  control  and  restraint 
general  family  influences ; 
le  blunders  of  the  cook  seem 
fles  beside  the  evil  customs 
led  in  most  kitchens  of  which 
any  thing,  that  they  are 
Ten  into  sources  of  congratu- 
ks  secnring  her  services  for 
«.  More  than  once  my  hus- 
as  insisted  on  raising  her 
n  the  ground  of  the  endless 
gets  in  bis  painting  from  the 
nt  her  oddities  afford  him,  — 
the  clear  insight,  which,  he 
is  the  invariable  consequence, 
in  honesty  say,  however,  that 
een  him  something  else  than 
vith    her   behavior,  many   a 

find  the  things  I  have  to  say 
I  upon  me,  that  I  must  either 
to  arrange  them  under  heads, 
h  would  immediately  deprive 

*  any  right  to  a  place  in  my 
-or  keep  them  till  they  are 
y  swept  from  the  bank  of  my 
I  by  the  slow  wearing  of  the 
of  my  narrative.  I  prefer  the 
K*cause  I  think  my  readers  will, 
t  with  one  thing  and  another, 
ag  to  be  done  and  that  thing 
avoided,  there  was  nothing 
»aid  about  the  dinner-party, 
y  fiither  came  to  see  us  in  the 
of  July.     I  was  to  have  paid 

visit  before  then ;  but  things 
me  in  the  way  of  that  also, 
w  my  father  was  commissioned 
mother  to  arrange  for  my  go- 

•  next  month. 

ooa  as  I  had  shown  my  father 
iitle  room,  I  ran  down  to  Per- 

.pa  is  come,"  I  said. 

un  delighted   to   hear  it,"  he 

e«i,    laymg    down   his   palette 

uihes.  '  "  Where  is  he  ?  " 

•ne  up  stairs,"  I  answered.    "I 


wouldn't  disturb  you  till  he  came 
down  again." 

He  answered  with  that  world-wide 
English  phrase,  so  suggestive  of  a 
hopeful  disposition,  "All  right!" 
And  with  all  its  grumbling,  and  the 
tristesse  which  the  French  consider 
its  chief  characteristic,  I  think  my 
father  is  right,  who  s&ys,  that,  more 
than  any  other  nation,  England  has 
been,  is,  and  will  be,  saved  by  hope. 
Kesuming  his  implements,  my  hus- 
band added,  — 

"  I  haven't  quite  finished  my  pipe, 
—  I  will  go  on  till  he  comes  down." 

Although  he  laid  it  on  his  pipe,  I 
knew  well  enough  it  was  just  that 
little  bit  of  paint  he  wanted  to  finish, 
and  not  the  residue  of  tobacco  in  the 
black  and  red  bowl. 

"  And  now  we'll  have  our  dinner- 
party," I  said. 

I  do  believe,  that,  for  all  the  non- 
sense I  had  talked  about  returning 
invitations,  the  real  thing  at  my 
heart  even  then  was  an  impulse 
towards  hospitable  entertainment, 
and  the  desire  to  see  my  husband 
merry  with  his  friends,  under  —  shall 
I  say  it  ?  —  the  protecting  wing  of 
his  wife.  For,  as  mother  of  the 
family,  the  wife  has  to  mother  her 
husband  also ;  to  consider  him  as  her 
first-born,  and  look  out  for  what  will 
not  only  give  him  pleasure  but  be 
good  for  him.  And  I  may  just  add 
here,  that  for  a  long  time  my  bear 
has  fully  given  in  to  this. 

"  And  who  are  you  going  to  ask  ?  " 
he  said.  "  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Morley  to 
begin  with,  and  "  — 

"  No,  no, "  I  answered.  "  We 
are  going  to  have  a  jolly  evening  of 
it,  with  nobody  present  who  will 
make  you  either  anxious  or  annoyed. 
Mr.  Blackstone,"  —  he  wasn't  mar- 
ried then,  —  "  Miss  Clare,  I  think,  — 
and"  — 


The  Vicar '8  Daughter. 


'*  What  da  you  ask  her  for  ?  ** 
"I  won't  if   you  don't  like    her, 
hut"  — 

"  I  haven't  had  a  chance  of  liking 
or  disliking  her  yet*' 

**  Tluit  is  partly  why  I  want  to  ask 
her,  —  I  am  80  sure  you  would  like 
her  if  you  knew  her." 

"  When?  did  you  tell  me  you  had 
met  her  ?  " 

**  At  Cousin  Judy's-  I  must  have 
one  lady  to  keep  me  in  countenance 
with  80  many  gentlemen,  you  know. 
I  have  another  reason  for  asking  her, 
whicli  1  would  rather  you  should  find 
out  than  I  tell  you.  Do  you  mind?'* 
"  Not  in  the  least,  if  you  don*t 
think  alio  will  spoil  the  fun." 

**  1  am  sure  she  wont.  Then 
there's  your  brother  Roger." 
**  Of  course.  Who  more  ?  " 
"  I  thiuk  that  will  do.  There  wiU 
bo  Bix  of  us  then,  —  quite  a  large 
enoujjh  party  for  our  little  dining- 
room.-* 

<*  Why  shouldn't  we  dine  here  ? 
It  wouldn't  he  bo  hot,  and  we  should 
bavo  UHjrt5  roimi," 

I  likcnl  the  idea.  The  night  bo- 
fore,  Pereivalo  arranged  every  thing, 
BO  that  not  only  his  paintings,  of 
whirh  h«i  had  fiir  too  many,  and 
whirh  wiTo  hmldliHl  about  the  room, 
htit  till  \\\n  properties  as  well,  should 
be  iw-cewrtOry  to  a  picturesque  effect. 
And  wht^n  the  taUu  was  covered  with 
Ihi^  ^\iim  ami  plat<*»  —  of  which  latter 
my  mothitr  hatl  taken  care  I  should 
not  hii  deiktitutc, —  and  adorned  v%ith 
i\u%  ihiwi»n»  which  liogur  brought  me 
from  Coven t  (janlen,  as^^isted  by  a 
f**w  of  rmr  own,  1  thought  the  hird's- 
♦•jr**  vif'W  frttm  rhe  top  of  Jacob's  lad- 
«b'f  ri  very  (jri'tty  ono  indeed. 

KomiIvimI  that  IVrcivale  should  have 
fKi  eauiKr}  of  complaint  as  reganled 
kba  V  of  my  arrangenients, 

I   %H         .     irt  that  our  little  Ethel^ 


who  at  that  time  of  the  evemn| 
always  asleep^  should  be  laid  on' 
couch  in  my  room  off  the  study, 
the  door  ajar,  so  that  Sarah,  who  wa 
now  her  nurse,   might  wait  with  fl| 
easy  mind-     The  dinner  wa.'S  broagli 
in  by  the  out^r  door  of  the  >      ' 
avoid  the  awkwanlness  and  i        >  i 
disaster  of  the  private  precnpice*  ^M 
The    principal  dish,    a   small  ^^ 
loin  of  beef,  was  at  the  foot  of  t| 
table,   and  a  couple  of  boded  fowl 
as  I  thought,  before  nie.     But 
the  covers  were  removed,  to  myi 
prise  I  found  they  were  roasted. 
**  What  have  you  got  there,  ] 
vale  ?  "  I  asked     '*  Isn't  it  sirloii 

"  Vm  not   an   adept  in  such 
ters,**  h©  replied,     **  I  should 
was." 

My  fatlier  gave  a  glance 
joint       Something    seemed 
wrong.     I  rose  and  went  to  uiyl 
band's     side.       Powers    of    cuj 
Jemima  had  roasted  the  fowli 
boiled   the  sirloin.     My  exclan 
was   the   signal  for  an   outl>r 
laughter,  led  by  my  father. 
trembling   in   the    balance    be^ 
mortilication  on  my  own  accounl 
sympathy  with    the    evident   afl 
ment  of  my  father  and   ilr. 
stone.     But   the    thought   thati 
Morley   might   have   been    and 
not  of   the  party  came  with 
pang  and  such  a  relief,  that 
tied  the  point,  and  I  burst  out  1 
ing. 

**  I  dare  say  it's   all   right,'* 
Roger.     **  Why  sbouldn*t  a  sirllf 
boiled  as  well  as  roasted  ?     1  ve 
to  assert  that  it  is  all  a  whim, 
are  on   the  verge  of  a  new  dl 
to  swell  the  number  of  those 
already  owe  their  being  to  blui 
"  Let  us  all  try  a  slice,  then,*" 
>Ir.   Blackstone,   "and  com]: 
suits." 


The  Vicar* 8  Daughter. 


43 


LS  agreed  to ;  and  a  solemn 
Uowed,  during  which  each 
^qoaintance  with    the  new 

jorry  to  say/'  remarked  mj 
eaking  first,  ''  that  Roger  is 
and  we  have  only  made  the 
that  custom  is  right  It  is 
tgh  why  sirloin    is  always 

I   myself    conYinced,"  said 

un  certain,"  said  Mr.  Black- 
it  if  the  loin  set  hcfore  the 
ver  he  was,  had  heen  hoiled, 
lever  have  knighted  it." 
to  the  loin,  the  last  possi* 
»f  constraint  had  vanished, 
rty  grew  a  very  merry  one. 
-puddiug  which  followed 
-ed  perfect,  and  eaten  up. 
produced  some  good  wine 
lewhere,  which  evidently 
:he  enjoyment  of  the  gen- 
y  father  included,  who  likes 
LS3  of  wine  as  well  as  any- 
ut    a    tiny   little   whimper 

away,  and  Miss  Clare  ac- 
l  me  ;  the  gentlemen  insist- 
re  should  return  as  soon  as 
ind  bring  the  homuncle,  as 
led  the  baby,  with  us. 
we  returned,  the  two  clergy- 
*  in  close  conversation,  and 
two  gentlemen  were  chiefly 
My  father  was  saying,  — 
lear  sir,  1  don't  see  how  any 
do  his  duty  as  a  clergyman 
I't  visit  his  parishioners." 
ondon  it  is  simply  impossi- 
imed  Mr.  Blackstone.  "  In 
try  you  are  welcome  where- 

go  ;  any  visit  I  might  pay 
fSt  likely  be  regarded  either 
-usion,  or  as  giving  the  right 
ary  aid,  of  which  evils  the 
the  worse.  There  are  por- 
every  London  parish  which 


clergymen  and  their  coadjutors  have 
so  degraded  by  the  practical  teaching 
of  beggary,  that  they  have  blocked 
up  every  door  to  a  healthy  spiritual 
relation  between  them  and  pastor  pos- 
sible." 

"  Would  you  not  give  alms  at  all, 
then?" 

"  One  thing,  at  least,  I  have  made 
up  my  mind  upon,  —  that  alms  from 
any  but  the  hand  of  personal  friend- 
ship tend  to  evil,  and  will,  in  the  long 
run,  increase  misery." 

"  What,  then,  do  you  suppose  the 
proper  relation  between  a  London 
clergyman  and  his  parishioners  ?  " 

"  One,  I  ata  afraid,  which  does  not 
at  present  exist,  —  one  which  it  is  his 
first  business  perhaps  to  bring  about. 
I  confess  I  regard  with  a  repulsion 
amounting  to  horror  the  idea  of  walk- 
ing into  a  poor  man's  house,  except 
either  I  have  business  with  him,  or 
desire  his  personal  acquaintance." 

"But  if  our  office"  — 

"  Makes  it  my  business  to  serve  — 
not  to  assume  authority  over  them 
especially  to  the  degree  of  forcing 
service  upon  them.  I  will  not  say 
how  far  intimacy  may  not  justify  you 
in  immediate  assault  upon  a  man's 
conscience ;  but  I  shrink  from  any 
plan  that  seems  to  take  it  for  granted 
that  the  poor  are  more  wicked  than 
the  rich.  Why  don't  we  send  mis- 
sionaries to  Belgravia  ?  The  outside 
of  the  cup  and  platter  may  sometimes 
be  dirtier  than  the  inside." 

"  Your  missionary  could  hardly 
force  his  way  through  the  servants  to 
the  boudoir  or  drawing-room." 

"  And  the  poor  have  no  servants  to 
defend  them." 

I  have  recorded  this  much  of  the 
conversation  chiefly  for  the  sake  of  in- 
troducing Miss  Clare,  who  now  spoke. 

"  Don't  you  think,  sir,"  she  asked, 
addressing  my  father,  "  that  the  help 


d 


44 


The  Vicar's  Daughter. 


one  can  give  to  another  must  always 
depend  on  the  measure  in  which  one 
is  free  one's  self  ?  " 

My  father  was  silent  —  thinking. 
We  were  all  silent  I  said  to  myself, 
"  There,  papa  !  that  is  something  after 
3'our  own  heart."  With  marked  def- 
erence and  solemnity  he  answered  at 
length,— 

"  I  have  little  doubt  you  are  right, 
^liss  Clare.  That  puts  the  question 
upon  its  own  eternal  foundation.  The 
mode  used  must  beof  infinitely  less  im- 
portance than  the  person  who  uses  it." 

As  he  si>oke,  he  looked  at  her  with  a 
far  more  attentive  regard  than  hith- 
erto. Indeed,  the  eyes  of  all  the  com- 
pany seemed  to  be  scanning  the  small 
woman;  but  she  bore  the  scrutiny 
well,  if  indeed  she  was  not  uncon- 
scious of  it ;  and  my  husband  began 
to  find  out  one  of  my  reasons  for  ask- 
ing her,  which  was  simply  that  he 
might  see  her  face.  At  this  moment 
it  was  in  one  of  its  higher  phases.  It 
was.  at  its  best,  a  grand  face,  —  at  its 
worst,  a  suffering  face:  a  little  too 
lari^c,  perhaps,  for  the  small  Kxly 
which  it  crvnvned  wi:h  a  tlauie  of  soul ; 
bur  whilv»  you  saw  her  face  you  never 
thoiiglit  of  the  rt^st  of  her:  and  her 
attire  seemed  to  cour:  aii  os^*a|H»  fiv>m 
all  ob>erva:iou. 

*•  lUit,*'  my  fa:her  went  on,  Uvking 
at  Mr.  1  Slacks: one,  "  1  am  anxious, 
fivm  the  clergx  man's  jvnnt  of  view, 
to  k:ivnv  what  my  triend  her\*  thinks 
he  mas:  :ry  lo  do  ia  his  very  d;:^cult 

"  I  t'j'.iik  the  Ivst  :h:ng  I  OvvaU  dvC 
ivt.u  iv.l  Mr.  Slacks; one,  laugii::!g. 
"WxmM  Iv  to  p.*  to  sv"1kv^I  to  Mis* 
V^:,;ie  " 

"  I  >iV,>^;;*d;x*t   wouvler,**   my    father 

"  ix ; ■.  \  •  -,  •  h <^  wt^n  t i tue,  I  si lould 
P'.vVv  ;-Jo  c*ia^>lAiuoy  of  ;i  suburbia 
vv,iu;cv\  '* 


"  Certainly  your  charge  would  1 
less  troublesome  one.  Your  con] 
gat  ion  would  be  quiet  enough| 
least,"  said  Roger. 

"  *  Then  are  they  glad  because  t 
be  quiet,' "  said  my  father,  as  if 
consciously  uttering  his  own  rd 
tions.  But  he  was  a  little  cunoj 
and  would  say  things  like  that  wl 
fearful  of  irre¥erence,  he  wanted 
turn  the  current  of  the  conversad 

"  But,  surely,"  said  Miss  Clare^ 
more  active  congregation  would 
quite  as  desirable."  i 

She  had  one  fault  — no,  del 
she  was  slow  to  enter  into  the  ha 
of  a  thing.  It  seemed  almost  aj 
the  first  aspect  of  any  bit  of  funf 
sented  to  her  was  that  of  somet 
wrong.  A  moment's  reflection, 
ever,  almost  always  ended  in  a  a 
laugh,  partly  at  her  own  stupidit 
she  called  it. 

'•  You  mistake  my  meaning," 
Mr.  Blackstone.  "  My  chief,  al 
sole,  attraction  to  the  regions  6 
grave  is  the  sexton,  and  not  the 
cidity  of  the  inhabitants;  th 
|H?rhaps  Miss  Clare  might  valuft 
more  highly  if  she  had  more  ei 
ence  of  how  uoisv  human  nature 
be," 

Mis<5  Clare  gave  a  little  smile,  fi 
aftep-kuow ledge  enabled  me  to  n 
prvt  as  meaning,  *•  Perhaps  % 
know  a  trifle  aoout  it ; "  but  she- 
nothing. 

"  My  first  inquiry,''  he  went 
'•K?forv  accepting  such  an  appj 
men:,  woali  be  as  to  the  chai^ 
and  mental  habits  of  the  sexton-i 
I  found  him  a  man  capable  of  ni 
ing  human  nature  from  a  standH 
of  his  own,  I  should  close  witk 
otiVr  a:  c^a.v.  If.  on  the  contraq 
w;4s  a  vvaimon-plaoe  man,  who  i 
faultless?  re:?tvases*  and  cheriahed 
friendship  of  the  undertaker,  I  d 


The  Vicar's  Daughter. 


45 


In  fiiciy  I  slioold  regaid  the 
i  mj  proposed  master;  and 
should  accept  the  place  or 
depend  altogether  on  wheth- 
him  or  not  Think  what 
s  of  haman  nature  a  real 
ch  a  position  could  give  me  : 
e  the  shovel.  You  stop  a 
I're  out  of  breath.  Sit  down 
tone  there,  And  light  your 
j's  some  tobacco.  Now  tell 
»st  of  the  story.  How  did 
dlow  get  on  after  he  had 
termagant  wife  ?  '  That's 
old  treat  him ;  and  I  should 
•mm,  such  a  succession  of 
\  human  life  and  intent  and 
5,  as,  in  the  course  of  a  few 
aid  send  me  to  the  next  vic- 
&t  turned  up  a  sadder  and 
1,  Mr.  Walton." 
Tt  doubt  it,"  said  my  father ; 
her  in  sympathy  with  Mr. 
le,  or  in  latent  disapproval 
e  judged  unbecoming  to  a 
n,  I  cannot  tell.  Sometimes, 
.  I  could  not  help  suspecting 
^  of  the  deficiency  in  humor 
often  complained  of  in  me ; 
rays  came  to  the  conclusion 
t  seeme«l  such  a  deficiency  in 
only  occasioned  by  the  pres- 
i  deeper  feeling. 
Hare  was  the  first  to  leave. 
It  a  lovely  countenance  that 
1  my  husband,  the  moment 
out  of  hearing. 
L?  a  very  remarkable  woman," 
fatber- 

ip.^'t  she  knows  a  good  deal 
an  most  of  us,"  said  Mr. 
ae.  *-'  Did  you  see  how  her 
:*rd  up  always  before  she  said 
;j?  You  can  never  come 
>  seeing  a  thought  than  in 
ust  before  she  speaks." 


"  What  is  she  ?  "  asked  Roger. 

"  Can't  you  see  what  she  is  ?  "  re- 
turned his  brother.  ''  She's  a  saint, 
—  Saint  Clare." 

"If  you  had  been  a  Scotchman, 
now,"  said  Roger,  "that  fine  name 
would  have  sunk  to  Sinkler  in  your 
mouth." 

"Not  a  more  vulgar  corruption, 
however,  than  is  common  in  the 
mouths  of  English  lords  and  ladies, 
when  they  turn  St  John  into  Singen, 
reminding  one  of  nothing  but  the 
French  for  an  ape,"  said  my  fa- 
ther. 

"  But  what  does  she  do  ?  "  persisted 
Roger. 

"  Why  should  you  think  she  does 
any  thing  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  She  looks  as  if  she  had  to  earn 
her  own  living." 

"  She  does.     She  teaches  music." 

"Why  didn't  you  ask  her  to 
play?" 

"  Because  this  is  the  first  time  she 
has  been  to  the  house." 

"  Does  she  go  to  church,  do  you 
suppose  ?  " 

"  I  have  no  doubt  of  it ;  but  why 
do  you  ask  ?  " 

"  Because  she  looks  as  if  she  didn't 
want  it.  I  never  saw  such  an  angelic 
expression  upon  a  countenance." 

"  You  must  take  me  to  call  upon 
her,"  said  my  father. 

"  I  >vill  with  pleasure,"  I  answered. 

I  found,  however,  that  this  was 
easier  promised  than  performed  ;  for  I 
had  a.sked  her  by  word  of  moutli  at 
Cousin  Judy's,  and  had  not  tlie  slight- 
est idea  where  she  lived.  Of  course 
I  applied  to  Judy ;  but  she  had  mis- 
laid her  address,  and,  promising  to  ask 
her  for  it,  forgot  more  than  once.  My 
father  had  to  return  home  without 
seeing  her  again. 


Tovel$. 


MODERN   ENGLISH    NOVELS. 


BT   SEXST   W.   VEIXCWS. 

NO,  n. 


It  m  a  dosen  jean  or  nore  niice 
we  recollect  to  hare  hearj  iDcideiitallj 
tliat  a  certain  MS.,  called  "  Mother 
Goose  for  Grown  Folks^^  was  dbooor- 
a^inglj  seeking  acceptance  fooin  the 
hao<U  of  hesitating^  and,  doubtless, 
lUQch  puzzled  and  wisely  warj  pub- 
liiibers.  It  at  length  found  a  house 
bold  enough  to  become  sponsor  for 
the  oddly  named  bantling ;  for  its  lit- 
erary maternity  at  that  time  gave  it 
no  claims  to  baptism  with  the  public 
fjivor.  We  do  not  know  that  the  book 
ever  became  a  favorite ;  but  the  author 
certainly  didy  and  that  in  ^pite  of 
merits  which  long  hindered  and  still 
limit  her  jjopularity.  These  appeared 
very  characteristically  in  her  tirst 
Tenttire^  and  w^ere  the  causes  of  its 
rejection  by  many  discerning  judges 
of  the  public  tastes,  Mrs.  Whitney, 
wlio  allowed  in  her  first  work  that 
verse  was  hcrnatnral  element,  because 
poetry  was  ber  life  and  soul,  has  since 
shown  how  exquiMte  and  inbred  her 
fi'uling  is  for  the  rliythmical  form  of 
exfirt?s»ion,  by  sundry  very  precious 
short  poems,  wliose  acceptance  has 
been  measured  only  by  the  capacity 
of  -the  people  to  appreciate  the  best 
thfug.s.  But,  in  **  Mother  Goose  for 
Grown  Folks*/*  she  gave  a  finer  clew  to 
her  g*Muvm,  and  exhibited  the  grounds 
for  changing  the  form  of  it  from  verse 
to  prof^e ;  for  she  there  showed  plainly, 
thut  fmst  and  Hction*  history  and  fable, 
have  a  common  basis  of  reality  in  the 
npiritual  reahn  to  which  they  all 
itantt  related ;  that  childhood  and 
manhooil  are  lx)th  infancies  in  rela- 
tion to  the  full  stature  of  immortals ; 


that  the  sober  and  busines&4ili 
cems  of  life,  when  contemplated 
the  divine  centra  or  goal  of  bei 
just  as  truly  plays  and  appreuttc 
as  the  games  and  sports  of  cbil 
Life's  trade  and  commerce,  politici 
social  ambition^  are  all  only  '*  Mo 
Goose  for  Grown  Folks  j  "  and  chtldl 
are  not  engaged  in  things  lesscj 
less  divine^  less  significant,  w'  ^*^ 
•'  play  "  at  "  trade  "with  in 
bits  of  broken  china,  or  at  cuiqom^ 
with  doating  straws  in  the  puddle,  a 
India  merchants  with  their  ctin 
ships  full  of  teas  and  silk  ^ 
Stewart  with  his  marble  | 
dry -goods.  To  a  mind  that 
little  in  the  great,  and  the 
the  small^  because  it  sees  all  th| 
their  inner  significance,  and 
nothing  except  as  showing  fq 
furthering  the  meaning  and  pu 
of  Godf  it  is  plain  that  the 
character  of  much  that  is  called  l 
and  the  poetical  character  of  mi] 
is  called  prose,  wotild  soon  pr 
considerable  indifference  to  th^ 
cle  adopted  for  commuuicatioi] 
the  public.  If  verse  proved 
ceptable  to  the  audience  she 
prose  would  answer  her  endd 
cause  prose  was  never,  and  is 
mere  prose  to  hen  "  If  twenty i 
forty  shall,"  Mother  Groose  mu^ 
told  her;  and,  if  prose  were  tn 
popular  as  verse,  it  should  bo] 
just  as  good  a  vehicle  of  the 
in  her  sotiL  Mother  Gooai^] 
honor  the  larger  children*s 
and  tastes ! 

Mrs.  Whitney   showedi 


Modem  English  Novels. 


47 


kt  she  was  not  of  the  class 
k  **  in  numbers,  for  the  num- 
le."      With  her,  clearly,  the 

and  feelings  have  always 
fore  the  numbers.  To  get 
ictions  and  insights  before 
ration  has   been   the  prime 

of  a  soul  feeling  the  wealthy 
nd  the  grave  responsibilities 
nee,  and  the  tenderest  sym- 
ith    the  common  humanity ; 

inborn  call  to  be  a  public 
las  compelled  her  to  use  such 
^  as  the  public  would  best  re- 
.  Her  constituency,  she  her- 
r?,  must  always  be  confined  to 
lo  have  what  the  Scripture 
sion."  It  is  j  ust  as  necessary, 
ng  human  scriptures  of  heart- 
and  soul-experiences,  that 
?3  "  should  not  be  "  holden,'' 
e  apprehension  of  revelations 
'  grace.  "  Having  ears,  they 
;  having  eyes,  they  see  not," 
3  true  of  human  actions  and 
speech,  as  of  divine,  when 
e  within  the  solemn  and  ten- 
n  of  sentiment  or  symbolism, 
.al  things  are  spiritually  dis- 

and  nobody  knows  better,  or 
V  acutely,  than  Mrs.WTiitney, 
itual  things  are  whatever  ap- 
to  the  inner  life  of  the  soul, 
coarse  and  rude,  material  and 
,  the  exterior  manifestation  of 
lA  spirit  may  be. 
■eling  that  prompted  "  Mother 
>r  Grown  Folks  "  is  the  real 
lis  author's  genius.  She  ad- 
:he  woman  in  the  child,  the 
:he  woman  ;  and  her  audience 
o  be  indifferently  the  little 
i  women,  called  children,  or 
wn-up  children,  called  men 
len-  She  puts  the  wisest  and 
lit  things  into  the  mouths  of 
^d  sucklings,  and  the  most 
e  things  into  the  mouths  of 


old  men  and  women.  Hope  Devine 
talks  the  profoundest  metaphysics 
with  Mrs.  Drake,  the  captain's  wife, 
at  nine  years  old,  and  with  perfect 
truth  to  nature ;  for  ontological  ques- 
tions make  the  brains  of  sensitive 
boys  and  girls  ache  and  swim  long 
before  that  time.  When  the  child 
asks,  "  Who  made  Grod  ?  "  he  asks  it 
because  the  metaphysical  conception 
of  "  cause "  has  taken  such  neces- 
sary possession  of  his  understanding, 
that  an  unbeginning  or  uncaused  uni- 
verse leaves  him  hanging  over  a  fright- 
ful, fascinating  abyss,  his  feet  in  the 
air,  and  his  hands  just  ready  to  let  go, 
as  he  feels  the  aching  bliss  of  falling, 
falling,  into  a  bottomless  nothingness, 
soft  and  soothing,  with  the  Nirvana's 
temptation  in  its  dizzy  dying  into 
unconsciousness.  And  old  men  come 
round  to  children's  experiences,  and 
prattle  hand  in  hand  with  them,  with 
no  feeling  of  disparity  of  years,  no 
sense  of  wasted  time,  but  with  a 
restful  reverence  for  their  trusting 
wisdom  and  unconscious  nearness  to 
heaven  and  God.  Gabriel  Harts- 
horn's father,  whom  insanity  touches 
with  a  sort  of  sanctity,  becomes  his 
son's  chil<i  in  his  own  feeling,  though 
always  continuing  to  be  his  father  in 
the  noble  son's  respect  and  venera- 
tion. The  feeling  that  childhood  is 
a  state,  and  not  merely  a  period,  per- 
vades all  Mrs.  Whitney's  books.  And 
so  she  writes  indifferently,  and  equally 
well,  books  like  the  "  Boys  of  Chequas- 
set"  and  "We  Girls"  and  "Leslie 
Goldthwaite,"  for  the  blossoming  gen- 
eration, or  "  Faith  Gartney  "  for  maid- 
ens just  coming  to  flower,  and  "  The 
Gayworthys,"  "  Hitherto,"  "  Patience 
Strong's  Outings,"  and  "Real  Folks," 
—  books  for  all  ages  and  seasons,  for 
summer  and  winter,  seed-time  and 
harvest,  and  worthy  of  the  most  adult 
and  exacting  minds  and  hearts. 


# 


48 


Modern  English  Novels. 


It  is  plain,  too,  that  Mrs.  Whitney 
8tu«lies  human  nature,  and  God's  spirit 
in  human  nature,  nearest  its  sources, 
in  rhiLUnxHi,  with  a  special  rererence 
and  cure.  She  has  a  tender  respect 
for  tlie  impulses,  rights,  and  claims 
of  ohildn-n  ;  peculiarly  for  the  rights 
of  their  consciences,  affections,  and 
ima;jinations.  She  is  a  consistent  foe 
of  the  n'pressive,  suspicious,  and  ob- 
ject in  <;  system,  in  which  childhoo<l  is 
coni^iderod  not  as  a  parden-plot  full 
of  precious  gonns  of  life  and  beauty, 
but  as  a  bod  of  weetls,  in  which  even 
the  few  flowers  are  of  doubtful  allow- 
ance, and  only  rue  and  marjory  and 
thyme  and  spinach  are  painfully 
to  be  maile  to  grow.  Slie  hates 
the  utilitarian  philosophy,  which 
reckons  nothing  useful  that  is  not 
salable,  and  which  counts  out  as  no 
-part  of  the  real  inheritance  any  of 
the  great  univers;il  gifts  fn^ely  given 
in  infinite  abundance  and  richness,  like 
air  and  sky  and  water.  —  faith,  ho[>e. 
and  charity,  —  too  precious  ever  to  be 
in  any  exilusive  ownership.  How  well 
she  understands  the  wealth  of  the 
cliiM's  life,  who  is  never  merely  seeing 
what  he  sees  nor  doing  what  he  does, 
but  always  has  meanings  and  vis- 
ions to  himself  over  and  above  all 
he  shares  with  his  playmates,  or  could 
share  if  he  would  I  While  Anstiss  Dol- 
beaiv,  to  enliven  the  reality,  imagines 
herself  a  visitor  only  at  her  own  dull 
home,  or  Hope  Devine  voyages  to 
Franco  or  the  mountains  in  every 
scli«»'^ner  that  comes  to  the  wharf,  or 
scents  the  plantations  of  far  countries 
in  the  hogsheads  at  the  grocer's,  and 
spice-islands  in  the  cinnamon  and 
il(»ves  that  an>  in  the  kitchen-closet, 
we  set*  ln)w  full  and  travelled,  and  in- 
dep<Mident  of  narrow  circumstances, 
or  even  re]>ressive  guardians,  imagi- 
native chiUln»n  are.  It  is  the  soul 
that   thus    endows    childhood.      All 


children,  the  stolidest,  live  in  a  woi 
their  parents    seldom   visit      Th< 
little  hearts  rehearse  life's  passions 
miniature.      They   love   and   man 
and    are   mothers   and   fathers    ai 
widows  and  grandmothers ;  they  a 
presidents   and  lawyers  and    docto 
and   ministers    and    tradesmen    u 
artists,  before  they  are  out  of  pin 
fores   or  their  jackets   are   separati 
from  their  trousers.     And,  as  to  m 
ity  and  seriousness,  it  would  be  w« 
if  the  manhood  and  womanhood  i 
half  the  world  had   the    eamestnt 
and  reality  of  the    "  make-belie?i 
of  ordinary  childhood-     How  manj 
b\v  of  ten  years  has  worshipped  wi 
a  hoarded  passion  that  agitated  1 
dreams,  and  would   not  let  him 
fane  with  a  touch,  or  confess  wiU 
liX)k   that    could    bo    observed, 
beauty,  to  him  truly  divine,  of  i 
Woman  of  twice  or  thrice  his  y< 
has   kissed   her    shadow,  and  all 
reeled   in     the    intoxication    of 
notice !     How   intense    to   childh 
the  mystery  of  life  and  death,  — 
baby's     coming,   the     grandmothl 
going ;  and  how  near  the  presence 
realities  which  familiarity  hides  i 
older   eyes!      The   bed-clothes  0 
cover  in  thoughts   and    fears  for 
child,    which  the  man  might  re| 
chiise  cheaply  with  millions  ;  but, 
he    cannot   recall    the   sensibilii 
them  he  has  lost  in  the  world-toi 
ening  of  liis  spiritual  fibres, 
forests  ever  equal  those  the  city- 
imagines,  as  he  hears  his  uncle  fi 
the   country  describe    the  woods  j 
drove  through  in  coming  "down"j 
the  stage-coach  ?      Wliat  mounti 
are   as  picturesque   as  those    in  i 
moon  of  the  child's  fancy  ? 

**  Heaven  lies  about  us  in  our  infancy.^ 

But  the  radical   peculiarity   of  j 
author  is,  that  in  wlfat  other  ped 


Modem  English  Novels. 


49 


e  only  as  fancies  and  illusions, 
ms  and  visions  of  childhood, 
eives  the  real  world,  the  un- 

substance  of  things.  Life  in 
is  only  of  such  stuff  as  these 
ims  are  made  of !  When  Hope 
[ler  eves  "  to  see  far-off  coun- 
?  is  made  to  insist  that  "you 
e  what  isn't,''  and  that  her 
J  not  the  less  real  for  being 
lier  eye/'  The  Great  Source 
he  soul  of  our  souls,  does  not 
s  pictures  in  our  minds  out  of 
i\    and   permanent  substance 

employs  when,  through  the 
sterious  forces  of  crystalliza- 
delicate  and  ghostly  frost-work 
rindows  is  wrought  out  There 
lag  accidental  in  the  shapes 
xquisite    crystallotypes   take, 

forests  or  architecture  they 
is  as  substantial  in  the  high- 
e,  as  the  pines  in  Norwegian 
>r  the  Duomo  at  Milan.  Not 
i  is  the  feeling  or  fancy  that 
the  child,  lost  in  an  ecstatic 
-•a,  opi>o>ite  that  silvered  fairy- 
his  nur<»/rv  window  ;  and  com- 
Q  to  wander  through  the  elfin 
has  discovered,  and  dwell'  in 
*f:s,  and  people  it  with  the  love- 
T-A*:  beings  of  his  imagination  ! 
the  great  spiritual  laws  which 
Q>pire,  and  regulate  the  iuiagi- 
ire  not  less  real,  nor  the  stuff 
b  tliey  work  less  substantial, 
nz^  that  perish  in  the  using, 
is  stronger  than  the  iron  it  oxi- 
A  ru<ts  to  yellow  dust.  The 
*  stronger  than  the  air,  that 
lainly  as  its  symbol.  Exter- 
i  .S'>li'ls,  in  spite  of  their  sub- 

fehow,  gain  all  their  reality 
e  shatjowy  and  unsubstantial 
iind  the  hand  that  feels,  the 
:  sees  them.  "The  things 
seen  are  temporal ;  the  things 
;  unseen  are  etemaL" 


It  is  the  realization  of  this,  not  as 
a  theological  doctrine,  or  a  philosoph- 
ical refinement,  but  as  a  practical, 
every-day  fact,  that  gives  the  special 
originality  and  furnishes  the  key-note 
to  Mrs.  Whitney's  genius.  Behind 
all  that  is  common,  dreary,  drudging, 
unimportant,  insignificant,  inconse- 
quential, she  feels  the  mystery  and 
beauty  and  power  of  life  itself.  And 
life  in  humanity  is  God,  ever  pres- 
ent and  active  in  his  spiritual  offspring. 
Nothing  is,  but  doth  undergo  a  change 
into  something  rich  and  strange  in 
this  spiritual  alembic.  Thus,  life  is 
either  religion  or  irreligion  !  What 
people  are,  and  are  doing,  it  matters 
not  how  obscure  and  humble  their  cir- 
cumstances, is  always  of  one  sort,  — 
a  divine  thing, — living  in  the  use 
or  abuse  of  celestial  powers,  reckoning 
for  or  against  themselves,  with  heav- 
enly counters.  Their  waking  and 
sleeping,  their  play  and  work,  their 
fancies  and  their  facts,  their  eating 
and  fasting,  their  loving  and  hating, 
their  sorrows  and  their  joys,  their 
sheep  and  oxen,  their  nets  and  fish, 
their  ships  and  rafts,  their  every 
thing  or  any  thing,  or  nothing,  as 
many  would  deem  it,  —  all  are  but 
varied  symbols,  tools,  lessons,  uses, 
and  disciplines  of  a  common  soul, 
from  a  common  Father  and  Inspirer 
of  souls.  There  is  not  much  choice 
of  circumstances  in  such  a  universe, 
where  there  are  many  books  but  one 
alphabet,  many  teachers  but  one  les- 
son ! 

It  would  be  an  injustice  to  this  sol- 
emn truth  itself  to  call  this  a  new  or 
original  view  of  things,  in  any  other 
sense  than  that  in  which  the  deepest 
truth,  when  freshly  felt,  is  always 
original  and  new  in  the  heart  that' 
feels  it,  and  in  all  other  hearts  that 
are  freshened  by  it ;  like  the  old  peb- 
bles repolished  by   every   new  tide. 


60 


Modern  English  Nofods. 


For  from  long  before  Plato  to  Carlyle, 
\  all  the  deeper  souls  that  have  lived 
in  this  world  have  felt  that  life  was 
turned  wrong  side  out;  the  real  face 
or  rijjht  side  being  ever  in,  and  only 
the  wrong  side  out  and  visible.  "The 
shows  ot  things '' have  been  bent  by 
all  the  finer  natures  to  **thd  desires 
of  the  mind; "  and  what  Plato  in  his 
"Bfjpublie/*  and  Mr  Carlyle  in  his 
"Sartor  Res  art  ns,"  have  hinted  in 
more  unfamiliar  forms,  Mrs,  Whitney 
has  made  the  underlying  sentiment 
of  nil  her  books.  This  is  a  world  of 
"fihitdowi,"  or  of  "clothes."  Kings 
on  their  thrones  ar©  as  much  puppets 
as  kings  in  a  pack  of  cards.  The 
real  monarchs  are  often  on  dung-hills, 
like  Ki chard  Hathaway  and  Gabriel 
Hart&harn-  The  princely  qualities  in 
poor  childrori  are  more  truly  royal 
than  Prince  Arthur's  pension  of 
seventy-five  thousand  dollars  a  year, 
with  the  dukedom  of  Con  naught 
thrown  in.  And  in  the  real  world, 
'  where^  after  all,  we  are  always  livings 
—  in  the  world  God  sees  and  occupies 
and  makes,  —  things  Imk  as  they  are  ; 
and  worth  and  noldeness  and    truth 


humanity.  But  she  does  not  (forb^ 
spiritual  insight  will  not  allow  H 
commit  the  blunder  of  confining  h^ 
respect  for  the  spirit  in  man  to  ii 
appearance  under  humble,  laboriool 
and  unlovely  conditions  only.  Son 
writers  show  the  bitter  dominion  us 
der  which  external  circumMtaaoen  hm 
their  imaginationj  long  after  thi 
judgment  is  emancipated^  by  nef 
being  able  to  see  a  noble  soul  cloth 
in  purple  and  fine  linen. 

But  God^s  Spirit  id  not  thus  fi« 
med  in.  The  ocean  washes  the  Mfl 
terranean  shore,  clad  in  olive-grsn 
and  orange-orchards,  quite  as  freely 
the  sands  of  desolate  Madagasd 
but,  wht^rever  it  cornea  in,  it  britt] 
beauty  that  exceeds  all  it  finds, 
sitpplementi  all  the  beauty  it  mtj 
Kobility  of  soul  in  the  rich  and 
loftily*placed  ia  at  least  as  laudi 
and  as  significant  as  in  th^  poor  a 
hum  hie ;  for  who  can  tell  whot 
prnsperity  or  adversity  be  the 
school?  Those  writers  who 
only  poverty,  and  lack  of  culture, 
absence  of  refinement  (seldom  tin 
who   are  much  straitened    in  eil 


Modem  English  NoveU. 


51 


nd,  if  tnie  men,  they  would 
tfa  Teiy  soon  to  hold  each 
a  mach  the  same  esteem. 
1  Cope  and  his  mother  are 
hard  Hathaway  and  his  moth- 
V  the  one  group  is  done  in 
Q,  and  the  other  in  stone- ware, 
in  importance  to  the  sense  of 
itual  basis  of  all  life  and  char- 
the  authors  keen  and  never- 
ense  of  the  nexus  or  correspon- 
f  things,  —  matter  and  mind, 
I  body,  things  near  and  things 
things  seemingly  related  and 
nost  oppugnant  or  indifferent 
other  ;  all,  in  her  feeling 
cation,  have  subtle  echoes, 
ary  bonds,  an  interplaying 
which  leaves  nothing  in  the 
solitary  or  unattended  or  dis- 
fd.  The  trees  whisper  indeed, 
•vers  talk  low ;  and  stars  truly 
ukd  all  nature  becomes  in  full 
nous  sympathy  with  gentle 
n  noble  interchange  of  soul. 
:  the  prosaic  system  of  Swe- 
.  but  something  much  more 
d  full  and  all-comprehending, 
onates  ^Irs.  Whitney"*s  evident 
ouching  the  unity  of  things 
ir  correspondences.  Nature 
capricious  device ;  nay  it  was 
made  for  man,  nor  man  for  it ; 
y  were  both  made  together, 
ve  relations  so  radical  and 
L  that  bone  does  not  answer 
t  more  truly  than  spirit  mates 
tter,  or  the  laws  of  the  mind 
ise  of  the  stars  and  the  flowers, 
has  any  one  realized  as  prac- 
s  this  writer,  the  centrality  of 
act  and  every  person  and 
icident ;  of  every  atom  of 
iod  every  fibre  of  every  heart, 
^dividual  belongs  to  the  uni- 
be  universe  also  belongs  to 
rhen  the  child  wishes  the  sun 
ur  on  its  holiday,  it  has  no 


need  to  think  that  the  sun  rises  for 
millions  who  may  need  rain  and 
clouds  more  than  sunshine  and  splen- 
dor of  light.  For  the  Infinite  Wisdom 
and  Might,  by  some  subtile  power, 
has  woven  every  individual  soul  in 
with  his  universe  in  such  a  way,  that 
it  all  belongs  to  and  exists  for  each, 
as  much  as  if  no  other  soul  lived. 
The  vulgar  notion  that  human  inter- 
ests and  wants  and  wishes  conflict, 
even  in  the  divine  heart,  so  that  God 
cannot  be  as  generous  or  watchful  or 
bounteous  as  he  would,  because  he 
must  needs  divide  up  and  parcel  out 
his  providence,  and  consider  the  gen- 
eral good  at  the  individual  expense, 
is  simply  making  God  no  more  than 
a  greater  finite  Ruler.  The  glory  of 
(jod,  and  his  blessedness  to  us,  is  that 
he  is  not  bound  and  limited  by  our 
human  deficiencies.  What  is  the  in- 
finity in  Infinite  Power,  Wisdom,  and 
Love,  if  it  cannot  reconcile,  absolutely 
and  wholly,  the  greatest  general  with 
the  greatest  individual  good  ?  Sure- 
ly, it  is  not  a  misfortune  to  any  one 
child  of  God  that  Go<l  has  other  and 
many  children  !  Surely,  no  one  child's 
estate  is  less  because  there  are  so 
many  heirs  !  For  the  fortune  is  in- 
finite. The  brotherhood,  indeed,  is  part 
of  the  estate.  The  public  sacrifices  we 
make  are  in  the  eternal  interest  of 
our  private  fortunes.  If  there  are 
general  laws,  they  are  not  mere  ne- 
cessities of  God's  providence,  but  ex- 
cellencies and  glories  of  his  nature, 
and  privileges  of  our  lot.  This  is  the 
divine  way.  Who  shall  dare  to  pick 
and  choose  the  threads  in  the  great 
seamless  fabric  of  God's  garment  ? 
this  thread  as  not  matching;  this 
other  as  superfluous ;  that  as  faded 
and  frayed ;  this  as  clearly  taken  up 
in  haste,  or  to  meet  an  unavoidable 
necessity?  It  all  hangs  together. 
It  is  perfect    Every  thread,  like  the 


52  yiKkdem  English  Novels. 

«r :  i-r'5  web.  tremr^lrs  wirh  the  wear-  occupiod  a  second  before,  —  tbe« 

«^r'j  fvj:  an  I  a:  :Jir  1-rAsr  :•:•  -  :b.  of  aav  nor   imply  a  Providence  sitting 

I'^-'iTr"?:  wir.^  n>:n  :r.      I:  i?  all  C'ra-  warobing  as  a  switcb-bolder  wat 

tr'f  id  a'.l  cir-junir-r^rioe.    "^Vba:  oaa  the  tnick  and  trains,  but  only  a 

wr-  r.i.iiij  >::  •■:  :ze  oii-:/r»rs«*n.re  of  si-iing  Spirit  of  Love  and  Wisdom 

G  -i  Iri*  r-.an  :ha:  he  i?  al-arays  pres-  Tmrii  and  Goo^lness,  so  interfused 

e:.:  in  all  hi?  artric-irea  a:  ea-.h  j-jlnt  a*j  interacting,  so  present  in  infi 

o:   h:<   uLiver^e,   a-l   a*   c.-mplrtcly  J^ilne?s  and  witb  one  never-cbanj 

prv?*-:i:  ii:  o:ie  a^  in  any -ithvr  part?  purp-jse,    in  what    is    conscious 

"  L- 1  G.-i  ;>  L'.ri  I**  is  always  :o  l^e  wha:  is  unconscious, — in  matter 

a*-:ni'.-.!.      llyj^    d>    a'.l    u:fS.*ul::es  mind,  in  natun^  and  man,  —  that 

t.:':i?:i::i^   «^v:.,;:il  ar. i  Crr.er.i.1  pr.^vi-  only  is  tiie  universe    harmonizec 

J.nvs  diss.  >•_•  i::  rlir  war::::h  of  :he  masses,  suns,  stars,  and  planets,  1 

div:::-- 0;i>:.:Tir'>?vn -t- ?     If  G>Il;*eon  an.l  wind-,  but  each  atom  is  tiei 

a  ;  v.:rnoy.  lo  w  n  l^r  we  misr  sit  and  every  other;  and  every  act  is  kai 

wa;:  f-rhiin.  ns  we  wait  with   a  bp>  with    ail   history;    and   no    even 

kt-'ii  li:uli  f >r  ::i>  dvtor.     l>u:  if  he  i#»:>la:ed  or  cut  off   from   the   ba 

is  hrT>:,  i-.i.^w  a:i-i  always,  here  in  all  plan  of  the  all-animating  Spirit 

his  artril'Utes,  ihvn  : lit- re  is  no  rta-  nature,  life,  anil  history. 
S'.'ii  why  wlia:  is  allowed,  or  what  is        It  is  the  profound  and  bver-pra 

not    pr^-venteil.    s]i«ul  i  :;ot  in  every  sense   of  this   unity  in   things,  t 

insraii-e  an-l  fir  every  j^ierson.  be  re-  gives  such    a  mystic   flavor  to  1 

pariid  as  n-^t  only  the  best  uiilcr  the  Whitney's  bo«.)ks.     Take  the  wonf 

cinunistanoes.  but  as  absolutely  best :  ful  spiritual  meaning  she  finds  in 

nut  as  hapjuMiiiij:  un  ler  any  Si^'rim!>-  stones  that  are  desi'ribed  in  the! 

'u\\x  exii:eni\v.  but  as  hulding  lii«l  with-  of  Revelation,  as  forming  the  vd 

in    it    :ill    the    wfuhh,   wisai-ni,    and  the  Ne-w  Jerusalem.      Those  j> 

l.»ve  t>r  the  Intinite  Maki-r.  the  Ruler  are    only    the    rainbow    of   pm 

aibl  l'a:lii'r  o\  \]w  universe.  in  Goi's  sky,  echoed  from  the  wil 

Si»  fxtjiiiv-itely  into  iK-tail  is  this  di-  man's  predestined  habitation.     Ol 

\\uo  r.w'o  r;inii^l,  that  it  is   no   fancy  rainbows  and  jewels  themselves 

(it   i-Mwy  11  .til"  ho  not  also  a  part  of  man's  heart, — the  echo  of  God^ 

llio  ir;«li(0   ih.»t    the  whole  universe  with  the  great  gamut  of  bis  spili 

iHMXiMi  n(  \Uo  M»t't    tiMii'h  of   the  in-  affections   struck  in    colors  and 

I.Mit' .  lui -iM  t«|»'.  :  e,hoos  the  lausjh  of  cious  stones;  so  that   it   is  his 

111.- i  Inl.l  ill  ho  Mn;:>  on  his  way   to  that  gh)ws  in  the  ruby,  his  be 

.'.I  li.-.-l  .  iKU  ili;)t  Nature  is  fvMind  ar-  that  blazes  in  the  diamond,  hia  n 

r:m  ■Ml"  III  ri«\rrin.»l  wavs  in  a  ourious  that  sweats  in  the  sardius?    L 

li.iiiii.Mix    .«!  I  hiiiMiatu*  rhonls  ar.vjiid  rainbow   only  man's  soul,  in.  al 

;<|iii It li.il    tluini-'.  i»r  \\ith  a  delicate  chn^maric   chords,   scored   upon 

i.iili  ■ii..  .1. 1  iiiup.nix  iiu:  thesilenr  song  sky?    What  are  musical    notes^ 

«>l     i\ii\     hi  .11 1         The    pivnidfutial  colors  for  the    ear?    what  rainl 

MiiiiH-  ili.it  nhiii  I'll  1  hi' x\  heel  fnuu  the  but  music  for  the  ej^e  ?     And 

pii.  ijii.  r  .  ihi'  pi.o  iih'niial  pause  that  cares  the  soul  whether  harmony 

s;i\i-.l  h\  .11111  hii  p  the  traveller  fn-^m  atone  or  the  other  portal  ?     Ol 

till*  hvlitiiMii^'i  p.ith:  the  proviilential  that  the  G^d  who  ma<le  natuif 

i'vy  tli;i(    hint    the   hoaii  just  as  the  man,  jewels  and  rainbows,  and  Iv 

hullcl    puMuil    thi\ui);h    tlie  space  it  thoughts  and  feelings,  made  the 


Modem  English  Novels. 


53 


e  spiritnal  impulse  and  in  one 
BO  that  when  he  thought  of 
[tearls  among  precious  stones, 
nong  colors,  and  lilies  among 
with  charity  in  virgin  hearts, 
I  in  one  moment  made,  and 
I  eternal  harmony  with  each 

fhall  be  excused  for  dwelling 
upon  this  point  by  those  who 
er  how  lai^  a  place  this  seri- 
ne of  the  divine  relationship 
ns  and  things  holds  in  Mrs. 
r's  writings  ;  and  yet  we  are 
hed  that  it  is  necessary  to 
;ainst  the  inference  that  she 
lilosophical  pantheist,  or  a 
>st  to  practical  sense  by  the 
r  of  her  own  dreams.  That 
le  finest  part  of  her  genius, 
»  not  one-sided.  Intuitive  as 
:eptions  are,  and  deep  down 
3e  springs  of  life  which  she 
ly  visits,  she  lives  still  on  the 
among  common  things, — in 
n  air,  and  out  in  the  streets 
Is.  She  has  quite  as  keen  a 
f  the    concrete  as  of  the  ab- 

and,  indeed,  is  not  satisfied 
e  has  caged  her  abstractions 
ibur  walls,  and  given  them  a 
ar  history.  'Nobody  realizes 
hat  we  live  in  flesh  and  blood, 
id  and  butter,  from  sunrise 
et,  by  minutes,  months,  and 
and  that  each  has  a  limited 
She  knows,  too,   how  small 

her»>ics  have  in  human  life; 
i  plodding,  monotonous,  and 
»us  thing  ordinary  existence 
r  large  a  portion  of  our  time 
e  to  spend  waiting  for  some- 
>  happen.  But  the  drudgery 
lay  and  common-place  aspect 
fs  do  not  need  to  be  concealed 
aed  on  her  theory.  They  have 
eaaons  behind  them,  and  are 
L  part  of  life.     Who  that  lives 


what  is  called  an  intellectual  and  as- 
piring life  —  dealing  professionally 
perhaps  with  words,  and  familiar  with 
sacred  things  in  his  daily  speech — has 
not  sometimes  felt  that  the  meaning 
of  things  was  lost  by  a  too  artificial 
consciousness  of  them,  and  a  too  famil- 
iar habit  of  talking  about  them,  or 
even  thinking  about  them  ?  When, 
without  any  power  to  speak  of  the 
secret  in  his  soul,  some  plain  day- 
laborer  is  observed  for  thirty,  forty 
years,  devoting  himself  to  ten  hours* 
daily  straining  toil,  to  support  his  wife 
and  children,  and  never  once  gives 
himself  any  credit  for  his  constancy, 
nor  recognizes  the  manly  patience 
and  fidelity  in  his  heart,  —  who  does 
not,  as  he  thinks  on  the  cake  and 
praise  he  has  meanwhile  earned  for 
his  ministerial  or  philanthropic  exer- 
tions, feel  as  if  he  could  gladly  make 
himself  a  cushion  for  this  unconscious 
hero's  feet,  or  as  if  God  would  cer- 
tainly reverse  the  public  estimate, 
if  these  two  souls  should  together 
appear  at  life's  end,  at  his  all-knowing 
bar?  There  is  nothing  so  sublime  as 
patient  labor,  except  patient  waiting  ! 
Thinking  is  more  than  talking ;  and 
feeling  is  more  than  thinking;  and 
doing  is  more  than  all,  and  includes  all. 
It  is,  then,  what  we  do,  that  proves 
and  makes  what  we  are :  but  the 
doing  is  not  always  acting  ;  it  is  quite 
as  often  suffering.  Mrs.  Whitney  is 
a  sworn  foe  to  sentimentalism.  She 
hates  fine  language,  .fine  speeches, 
formal  professions  of  virtue  and  piety 
and  friendship.  Words  are  the 
cheapest  and  least  meaningful  form 
of  language  with  her.  Looks,  acts, 
symbolic  motions  of  hand  or  foot  or 
elbow,  all  are  more  eloquent  and  more 
loaded  with  life  and  feeling,  than  the 
most  rounded  periods.  Her  charac- 
ters, if  her  .favorites,  are  seldom 
afflicted    with   long    tongues.      She 


54  3Iodern  English  JVorrf*- 

rii.ikfM  tliPin  show  themselves  in  their  in  her  eospel  &ith  in  their  im] 

}!•  'I'Hi.i ;  anri,  wlii-n  they  ryjnverse,  the  sonal  the«>g«^phr- 
!•  t-t  thinj,M  tlicy  say.  by  their  sim-        Indtre.L  everywhere  Mrs.  Whit 

|.i:ii*y  fiinJ  hirldeii  heartine*.s,  speak  shows  herself  to  be  not  only  a  str 

Vfiniiifs.  theiat.     but     an    earnest    Christ 

III  .'•till  jinothor  resjwct  does  Mrs.  She  valu»*s  cot  only  the  contents 

Wliitiii-y    \\\'u\i\    tlui    sontimental   or  Christianity,  but  the  vessel  in  wl 

i:i.i|i '.ilir  n-li;;io!i  of  idoali.sts.     She  is  they   were    br»jught.       She    has 

:i  linn  ln-lir-viT  ill  tho  objective  reali-  been   i:arri»?«l    away,   though    Boi 

t.-^fit'  \%iiir)i  hiiiiiun  faith  and  hope  b<jrn  and  bred,  and  educated  in 

.'i.-j'i  i'lvtf   l:iy  hnld.     (jod  is  no  mere  Unitarian  d».*nomiuation,  like  alo 

-  j.' ri.hitivf  iMMc^r.itj'  of  tho  intellect  all  the  nner  intL-Iiigtrnces  of  her  j 

III  I  In-  im:i^in!itioii,  Imt  a  livini;  IVr-  eratiijn   and  neigh borlnxnl,   with 

•11.      Il'iivi-n  is  ji  pliiri'  as  w«'ll  as  a  illusion    that   3*ou    may   destroy 

■••N-.      I!  11111:111  mollis  are  more  indi-  aqueduct,  without    any   prejudios 

■.  .In:.!,  .siili^tahii:il,  and  lastiii'^  than  the  water-supply;   or  make  light 

I  .'■  :  !;ir.«  whiili  (iiirl  y«'t  call.s  by  their  the  sprinir.  because   you  praise 

ii.iiin'.     Till- liopi'H  :uid  loiij^iuj^s  of  stream  that  tiows  from  it. 
til'   lii:irl,  wliicli  sci'iii  so  r^fti'U  memo-        She  has  not   been    able  to  fls 

I  .■  lit'  Mil  111-  i.»>t  jKinidisf  wliiili  we  are  her  conceit  enough  to  think  that  4 
1. 1. 111'^  l.ir!lnr  :iiid  furtlirr  behind,  what  is  uhs-^luU;  in  Christiani^ 
ill'-  li-.ily  till-  .-.ii  ri't  sli:idi)ws  of  glories  goixl  enough  fur  man's  spiritual  i 

I I  iii'iir^  i»vcr  u-i,  :iiid  wait  in  j^  our  aj.)-  What  is  relntive  to  human  wi 
I>:'i:ii  h  !  'riir  <iMiiiii;^  cVfiits  ill  ni:in*s  and  specifically  adapted  to  its  en! 
;■  '  .ii  III  lurv  \'\\^\  tlnii  shadows  bi'fnre.  human  salvation,  seems  to  her  C 
r.  it  ilir  worHJ  i.s  hut  pliaiitasina^oric.  more  valuable   and  significant 

'1   I'll-  i.  hiilliMi";  ill  tliii  kai<'iil«>.s(ropo  has    she   n-ached    the    i>osition  I 

'■■    III'-  nun. I   Ihat  wa^  nut   }Mit  IIrtc,  which  man  makes  himself  **  the  O 

i!i  I  I    lint  rr.il ;  imr  t-aii  any  rliance-  ure  of  GimI."'     There  is  evident  11 

1 1  .I.'-  anaii/i'  it.-i  ^toin*.'^  in  any  order  her  writings,  and  sj>ecially  in**H 

\  !>!•  Ii  w.Mii'ii  |n«*-or«laiin'd,  dors  nnt  erto.''     in    which    more    direct 

1  .Ih.vv    iii.iilniiiaiii'al    laws,   and    ti'll  intentional  religious  ind«wtrinatk 

li  I  ill    aii>l     III  it    I'alsi'iiood.     Nt)thing  aimed  at,  a  solid   and    experimfl 

I  .11  Will   III'  lihiT  than   the  bold  way  a])preciation  of  the  place  Christ 

III     wliiili    .\ii::!iss     l»t»llieare,    Hope  in  the  divine  plan  for  humanity. 

I '■  \  Nil',  aiitj    Aunt    Clii^ni   eneniinler  does    nt)t   interpret    awa}',    or  di 

1  ■■■    i^'iv,   Iji'laml    ;4iio.stics   in    ^Frs.  or  evadt;  her  Cliristolt»gy.     It  is  ] 

I     .1  ■  ii.  '..  |»arl.y  at  I'.o^ton.     The  neo-  live,  Hrm,  and  deliberate.     Perhi 

1'  ,i'i  «'!    ri'\l\i-d  heatlieni.sni   bring  is  not  quite  so  certain  what  her 

I  1'    ill  tliiir  tnll-Mown  an<l  pri.^niatic  matic  views  of  Christ  are;  nor  il 

I     .'I'hi    iif   opiiiiMi,    ti>    linil    Annt  important.     l*robably  she  h:is  dil 

<  .1.  Ill  piMili  |i.n»liliig  them  a>i«le  like  eretl  (for  she  is  a  close  and  persi 

f  ..!].  l.iiMili';.  with  the  vigorous  breath  thinker  on   these   themes)   that 

1. 1    In  r  ;tinily  eoininoii-sense.     Hope  man  knoweth  the  Son  but  the  1 

t    .•! .  all  that  i.strui'or  gond  in  C/Ur-  er  ;"  that  there  are  insoluble  mysl 
I\'m'    ami    Mr.    l!nierson     anticipated    in  Christ's  nature,  and  that  the  1 

I  iMiii-r^aiil  in  tin*  New  Testament,    view  of  the  Church,  narrowed  gl 

V.  lull:  niie  mioses  what  is  most  vital    since   the   days  of    the    Athaa 


Modem  English  Novels. 


55 


may  be  nearer  trae  than  either 
I  Hnmanitarianism,  or  the 
JUS  deification  of  Jesus  as 
\y  true  God.  Saving  the  su- 
y  of  the  Father,  as  God  in 
I  without  supplement  of  Son  or 
we  may  give  Christ  any  place 
that  supremest  one,  without 
ig  either  Scripture  or  reason ; 
bo<ly  can  tell  at  this  date  what 
ristology  of  Liberal  Christians 
I  fifty  years  hence.  All  who 
le  to  be  Christians  in  any 
and  proper  sense,  it  is  safe 
.  to  say,  will  think  more  and 
5  of  Christ,  and  will  feel  that 
low  less  about  his  nature.  So 
are  can  sound  Mrs.  Whitney's 
l'>gT,  she  is  in  respect  of  Christ 
rhristians  of  all  denominations, 
some  might  feel  a  desire  for 
lan  she  possesses,  would  unite 
roving  all  that  she  formally 
cr*  to  believe  or  teach. 
t  to  the  Christian  character  of 
ih.  we  place,  as  perhaps  of  more 
i  inifxirtance,  the  unerring 
ii'>s  and  elevation  of  her  ethics. 
IT  as  we  have  observed,  there 
a  misstep  or  doubtful  fuot-fall 
hrr  writings,  considered  from 
oral  Mde.  She  never  excuses 
-s,  equivocation,  nor  any  form 
^ln•^  neutrality  in  the  moral 
*A  life. 

mo^t  sympathetic  of  interpre- 
the  mixed  and  varied  motives 
r   human    hearts,    and    recog- 
the  infirmities  and  follies  of 
rj't,  >he   never  confounds  right 
roiipr.  nor  conceals  from  herself 
:^nrial  quality  of  human  actions. 
>t  to  I.K.'  exp<?cted  that  all  mortals 
be  j>erfect  saints  ;  but  it  is  all- 
ant  that   they  should  not  call 
■ji^],  nor  deceive  themselves  as 
mitral  complexion  of  their  own 
ihy   actiouB.      If  a  man   lies 


and  owns  to  himself  that  he  has  lied, 
it  is  next  to  owning  it  to  the  victims 
of  his  falseness  and  to  God ;  and  there 
is  hope  that  he  may  recover  his  truth. 
But  people  who  lie,  and  do  it  so  adroitly 
that  they  deceive  themselves  as  well 
as  others,  are  like  "  the  dyer  s  hand 
which  grows  to  what  it  works  in." 
Their  very  souls  become  so  dark- 
skinned  that  moral  stains  will  not 
show  upon  their  consciences.  The 
most  hopeless  of  the  immoral  are 
those  whose  natures  are  so  mixed  that 
good  and  evil,  right  and  wrong,  form 
a  tasteless,  limpid,  colorless  compound, 
and,  like  some  Western  streams,  run 
pure  and  clear  as  crystal  to  the  eye, 
but  are  deadly  to  the  stomach,  and  full 
of  poisonous  miasmas  for  the  breath. 
There  is  a  noble  severity  in  the 
moral  tone  of  this  writer,  which  is 
rare  and  sanative.  She  never  allows 
vice  or  folly  or  falsehood  in  her  char- 
acters to  escape  chastisement ;  and  she 
is  as  patient  as  Providence  in  wait- 
ing for  the  seeds  of  retribution  to 
ripen.  With  what  a  kind  cruelty 
she  follows  up  poor  Jane  Gair's 
treachery  to  her  father's  will,  until 
we  are  half  ready  in  our  pity  to  pray 
that  she  will  spare  this  feeble  victim 
of  her  own  cupidity  and  self-deluding 
inveracity  !  But,  no  I  she  makes  her 
lie  in  the  bed  she  has  made  for  her- 
self, and  die  in  an  awfully  tragic  pa- 
ralysis on  the  very  pillow  where  her 
worthy  father's  white  hairs  had 
honored  the  innocency  of  his  life 
and  the  purity  of  his  gentle  heart, 
when  he  died,  with  Jane's  ear  at 
his  mouth,  as  the  trusted  but  false 
depository  of  his  last  wishes  for  his 
family.  She  had  wickedly  held  her 
lips  with  a  bad  secret  in  them,  until 
she  could  not  and  should  not  be 
allowed  to  tell  it,  though  she  would ! 
The  comfort  of  confession  should  not 
allay  the   death-bed  of  so  hardened 


'Mglm 


and  pei^istent  a  sinQer,  bo  cunning 
and  so  ingrained  an  oifender,  who 
had  dt^ctfived  heraelf  almost  as  com- 
pletely as  everybody  else. 

How  severely,  too,  she  makes 
Say,  Mrs.  Gairs  daughter,  deal  with 
herself,  when,  after  a  struggle  of 
years  with  her  love  for  Gershoin, 
Bhe  will  not  jdlow  herself  to  receive 
it  wlieo  it  coinea,  because  it  seems 
purchiiiieil  by  the  services  it  has  cost 
her  so  dearly  to  render  to  his  and 
his  mother's  peouniary  riglitsl  She 
doubts  her  own  affections,  though 
her  life  is  rooted  in  her  love,  because 
the  sentiment  of  justice  has  for  tlie 
time  extinguished  the  consciousness 
of  every  thing  but  itself  in  her  heart, 
inilamed  with  a  remorse  wkich  be- 
longs  only  to  her  mother,  whose  sins 
slie  feels  bound  to  confess  t^j  her  own 
iharae,  and  boar  to  her  own  nearly 
mortal  sori*ow  !  How  cruelly  Anstiss 
punishes  herself  for  her  coquetry 
with  Allard  Cope,  her  insensibility 
to  Grandon's  dignified  worth,  and 
her  hardness  to  Ricluird  Kathaway^s 
unobtrusive  greatness  of  soull  Sure- 
ly such  a  line  sensibility  as  this 
must  surprise  the  souls  of  njost  mod- 
ern girls,  who  feel  as  proud  as  an 
Indian  of  his  scalps,  of  the  hearts  they 
have  stuck  upon  theii-  breastpins. 

Yet  what  punishment  can  be  too 
severe  for  women,  or  men,  trifling 
with  the  sanctities  of  love,  and 
casting  forth  arrows  and  death,  while 
they  cry,  "  It  is  sport ''  ?  Mrs,  Whit- 
ney has  in  nothing  exhibited  the 
tineness  of  her  moral  standard  better 
than  in  the  ethics  of  love.  She  never 
treats  the  subject,  —  which  is  yet  the 
principal  theme,  as  it  should  be,  of 
her  works,  —  without  a  profound 
seriousness  and  tender  earnestness. 
She  knows  and  feels  that  deep  as  Love 

in  God's  nature,  and  his  chosen 
lame,  so  central  and  profound  is  it  in 


human   nature;    that  the  heart,  iti 
special  organ,   is  more  central    tliaj 
the  brain ;  and  that  the  issues  of  llfi 
and  death  are  out  of  it     T' 
makes  human  love   always  ' 
in  her  books,  what  it  so  frequentlj 
takes  on  in  real  life,  a  religious  oM 
pect.     It  is  indeed  the  infinite  qualj 
ity  in  love, —  the  ever  and  alwat/is  an< 
all ;  the    iihove  allj  and  in  pltice 
all,    and  in  compensation    for    all| 
the  feelings  of  losing  self  in  auotl 
being,     and    of    tasting    somelhiu 
infinite    and    inexhaustible    in 
draught  of   requited  aiiection;    it 
the  body  and  soul   union,  the 
dering  of  all  other  ties  to  make 
complete,  that  has   made   love 
the  other  name  for  religion,  and 
experiences  secret,  Jioly,  and  mjstif 
li  ke  t liose  o  f  worsh  i  p  an  d  fa  i  th .   Wlwj 
God   calls    himself   the   husband  i 
the  widow,   when    the    api:»stle   call 
the    ChuTL'h    the    bride    of    Chriij 
they  only   symbolize   and    intcrpql 
the   intriifeic  piety  and   sanctity  j 
love  in  its  familiar  domestic  chafiij 
ter.     Thank  God  \  no  al>usc5,  no  Ml 
aualily,  no  illusions  and  dis 
meuts,  can  seriously  profane  u 
80  perennially   reconsecrated   in  II 
man   experience.     Children    play  j 
the  steps  of  cathedrals,  who  jet  b 
that  a  holy  of  holies  ends  the  aisle  \ 
whose  entrance  they  tritle.    And  i^ 
the  frivolity  and  nonsense  which  ti 
vest  the  out- works  of  the  tender  g( 
cannot  remove  the  chrisni  that  ajioii 
his  sacred  head. 

The  simplicity,  naturalness,! 
exquisite  delicacy  of  all  the 
moments  in  the  love-passag 
our  author's  characters  do  the 
est  honor  to  the  insight,  purity," 
nobility  of  her  nature.  How  fi 
she  can  lill  the  shallowest  woHj 
How  racy  she  can  render  the  t-ami 
phrases  I     How  piercing  the  gex 


Modem  English  Novels. 


57 


t  direct  arrow  becomes  from 
!  She  shapes  the  lips  of  her 
and  heroines  so  that  what 
y  gets  its  only  meaning  as 
•m.  Richard  Hathaway  never 
original  or  a  strong  or  a  hot 
all  his  history ;  but  the  author 
i  to  make  it  very  plain  how 
itrd  (as  the  sun  stormed  the 
:'s  cloak  off  his  back)  the  deep- 
it  out  of  th;it  seven-walled 
istii?s  Dolbeare !  To  us,  how- 
ere  is  no  love-passage  in  all 
£s  more  exquisitely  perfect  in 
i;l*rd  humor  and  pathos,  than 
is  uf  Huldah  and  Ebenezer's 
understanding  in  **  The  Gay- 
r  where  the  pulling  of  sheets 
ironing  is  inimitably  made 
ormnity,  and  the  illustration 
jerky  *•  backwardness  about 
forward,^  and  of  their  final 
precipitation  into  each  other's 
irms. 

i*imirable  local  coloring  which 
bitney  has  given  to  her  thor- 
Xew-England  tales  is  of 
f  value  at  a  time  when  the 
ixii'l  customs  and  manners  of 
t  i.-haracteristic  period  of  Xcw- 
1  l:iVr  ar«  so  rapidly  passing 
u*T  knowleilge  and  observation 
ri?iug  generation.  Her  sym- 
r  tem[»er,  and  extraordinary 
of  t'jnes  and  motions,  appear 
exact  reproduction  she  fur- 
us  of  that  awkward,  nasal, 
cr  'ature,  of  sterling  honesty, 
i  f-vling,  and  intense  self-re- 
je  ••  hired  help"  of  Xew-Eng- 
\us.  The  sly,  unsmiling  wit, 
:•:  contempt  for  all  demonstra- 
ing.  the  all-enduring  patience, 
»thered  passion,  the  self-reli- 
i  the  inward  reverence  of  those 
hcreked,  thin-breasted,  large- 
and  broad-footed  people,  who 
ew  England  what  she  is,  iio- 


body  has  better  exhibited  than  Mrs. 
Whitney.      She  has  understood  the 
profound  enthusiasm  that  smoulders 
under  their  ashen   dulness  of  man- 
ner, the  keen  intellectuality  of  their 
ungrammatical      brains,      and     the 
weighty  meaning  of  their  idiomatic 
and  costive  speech.     All  that  intense 
individuality  that  so  long  tilled  the 
New-England  towns  with    people  as 
marked  as  the  different  creatures  that 
entered  the  ark,   but   too  dissimilar 
ever  to  be  counted  in  pairs,  she  has 
reproduce<l  in  a  score  of  her  charac- 
ters ;  Jacob  in  **  The  Boys  of  Chequas- 
set,"  and  Huldah  and  Eben  Hatch, 
IVIrs.  Wealthy  lloogly  and  Jazeniah, 
the  PuLsifer  girls,   and  Mrs.    Cryke 
with  her  memorable  elbows,  and  Miss 
Chism,  —  perhaps,  from    her     social 
position,  the  most  eminent  success  of 
alL     That  hard  shell  and  soft  heart ; 
that  vitriolic  tongue,  yet  never  point- 
ed by  any  thing  less  than  a  command- 
ing sentiment  of  duty ;  that  tyranni- 
cal supervision,  which  was  just  as  ex- 
acting of  itself  as  of  those  it  awed  and 
quelled   into   obedience ;     that   stern 
sense  of  lite  as  a  school  and  discipline, 
in    which   pleasure    had    no    rightful 
place,  and  young  people  had  no  busi- 
ness to  be  young,  and  must  get  wise 
andsober  at  once,  —  all  tins  is  admira- 
bly portrayed  in  many  of  our  aathor's 
favorite  characters.     She  understands, 
too,   the  old  Ncw-Eiigland  minister; 
perhaps   not  quite   as    well    as    Mrs. 
Stowe,  — how  should  she  ?  —  but  suffi- 
ciently well  to   give    us   his    awfully 
dogmatic    sermonizing,     his    patient 
round  of  parish  calls,  his  feirtul  self- 
exploring  diary  of  God's  dealiui^s  with 
his   heart  and  conscience,   with    his 
gossiping  observations  of  all  that  be- 
fell his  neighbors.     The  etlVct  of  the 
brimstone    sermon,   from    the     text, 
"  Flee  to  the  mountains,'*  upon  poor 
Mr.  Hartshorn,  is  a  wonderfully  real 


58 


Modem  English  Novels. 


and  tragic  portrayal  of  the  way  in 
which  the  letter  used  to  kill  the 
spirit  of  truth,  after  it  had  hecome 
petrihed  in  a  New-England  ministe- 
rial ajisociation,  under  the  command- 
ing influence  of  some  stern  and  meta- 
physical dogmatist,  for  a  few  genera- 
tions. The  llev.  Mr.  King's  charac- 
ter and  domestic  history  is  another 
tine  sketch  of  the  way  things  went 
with  less  resolute  clerical  natures. 

In  all  that  appertains  to  the  farm- 
life,  —  the  festivals,  the  funerals  and 
weddings,  the  winter  ways  and  the 
summer  pleasures,  of  New  England, 
with  berrying  and  husking  and  har- 
vesting, with  butter  and  milk,  with 
orchard-birds  and  garden-flowers  and 
way-side  bushes  and  forest-trees, 
with  farm  horses  and  cows,  with  beer- 
brewing  and  cider-pressing, — Mrs. 
Whitney  shows  herself  a  rare  and  re- 
tentive observer  of  ways  that  she 
could  have  seen  only  in  very  early 
youth.  Perhaps  the  present  genera- 
tion cannot  fully  appreciate  the  exact- 
ness of  her  pictures.  But  they  may 
judge,  from  her  descriptions  of  New- 
Engliind  scenery,  how  accurate  and 
graphic  she  is  in  dealing  with  exter- 
nal facts.  Every  thing  connected 
with  color  in  nature  has  a  never- 
failing  charm  for  her  eye.  The  green 
earth,  witii  all  its  exquisite  grada- 
tions of  greenness ; .  the  blue  sky, 
with  its  infinite  bhades  of  azure;  the 
clouds,  in  all  their  purples  and  slates 
and  lleecy  whites,  and  all  their  golden, 
hues,  and  rare  apple-greenish  tints, 
she  makes  live  again  in  her  pages, 
just  as  they  haunt  the  memory  of  the 
N(?w-Eni;lander,  —  let  him  go  where 
he  will,  and  to  whatsoever  more 
favored  skies  and  lands,  —  as  the  per- 
fection of  symbolic  beauty  to  which 
it  takes  New-England  hills  and  rocks 
and  forests  and  ponds,  and  New-Eng- 
land elms^  and  villages  beneath  their 


shade,  and  New-England  white  n 
ing-houses  and  red  district  sol 
houses,  to  give  their  whole  cb 
and  significance.  Where  do  thun 
storms  have  such  an  awful  beauty 
terror  as  among  her  hills?  W! 
do  fogs  and  mists  play  so  mag 
part  as  in  the  river-scenery  of  ] 
England  valleys?  Where  are 
woods  so  varied,  and  so  highly  col 
with  flowers  in  spring,  and  in  auti 
with  leaves,  the  crops  so  irregul 
chequered,  and  valley  and  w\ 
meadow  and  hill,  pasture 
ploughed  field,  so  minglc<i,  and  in  a 
a  delicious  general  effect?  Wl 
run  the  roads  up  and  down  and  ro 
such  stony  hills,  tlirough  such  01 
hanging  woods,  by  the  side  of  ■ 
vine-clad  walls  and  fences?  j 
there  is  no  s[)ot  on  earth,  where  ia 
pendence,  thrift,  and  labor  have  U 
clearer,  a  lovelier  impress,  than  in  I 
clime,  where  ruggedness  has  smi 
into  beauty,  without  losing  its  nal 
vigor  of  outline  or  variety  of  feati 
True,  it  is  a  solemn  and  often  mel 
choly  country,  —  like  its  people,  at 
and  sad ;  but  as  its  old  graveyards,  gj 
and  neglected,  sandy  or  bleak,  o| 
overhung  verdant  and  comely  mi 
ows,  so  you  can  hartUy  ride  five  id 
in  any  part  of  New  England,  liow^ 
bleak  and  sad,  without  passing  ) 
rare  beauty  and  verdure.  Its  s^ 
ness  easily  melts  into  gentleueil 
shifts  with  sudde.i,  unex[>ected  t 
to  softness  and  fertility. 

All   this   is    written    over   all 
pages   of   these   books   with   a 
New-England   pen   and   heart; 
the   authoress  herself  is  a  bcaa 
intellectual  product   and  outcoi 
the  scenery  — :  i)hysical  and  mo! 
she  describes.      She  is  herself  1( 
and    metaphysical,   a    stern 
with   the  vast  problems  of  life, 
religion ;    and  this   gives   s 


Modem  English  Nofods. 


59 


itic  base  and  quality  to  her  mind 
style  and  characters,  a  cropping 
in  unyielding  edges  of  stone. 
:;«  of  east  wind,  and  weeks  of 

hare  found  their  way  into  her 
;  long  November  storms  gloom 
and  March  winds  howl  and 
p  through  the  much -enduring, 
nt  characters  she  produces. 
-e  is  a  keen  winter  air  in  her 
xrr.  a  curl  of  frosted  smoke,  de- 
i.  but  still  mounting  upward ; 
there  are  long  seasons  of  snow- 
rd  paths  and  mud-blocked  spring 
s  as  if  the  mental  going  and 
:ual   progress   in   New  England 

always  over  that  way  described 
e  popular  negro  song,  "  Jordan 

hard  road  to  travel.'"'     Nothing 

made  out  of  this  soil  except  by 
irxoaX  painstaking  diligence :  no 
s  expected  here.  Nature  ac- 
•>!  as  a  severe  landlord,  but  just ! 

theUj  how  deep  the  wells  must 
"  y»>u  would  reach  the  ]>ennanent 
Zi :  and  how  hard  to  sink  them 
i^r  rocky  soil !  Ali !  the  New- 
a:::  L-r.  if  he  d«>e5  not  inherit  his 
.  h;i5  a  ft'arful  htmt  fur  it ;  for 
V?  not  moan  to  be  taken  in,  or 
■  -tn  with  a  counterfeit  article. 
i:i:aiate  and  soil  have  tauglit  him 

Lar-i    things   must    be    treated 

hiird  blows.  lie  has  ploughed 
Ldi.y  ro«"ky  fields  with  six  oxen, 
Lille  tliem  yield  at  last  the  rich 
■i'r<  of  his  [jatient  plodtling,  not 
ETe«;t  to  work  for  his  spiritual 
T>T.  and  not  to  expect  to  have  it 
I  very  tangible  form  when  it 
•*  in.  *•  His  hay/'  he  will  often 
v.'U.  **  ain't  quite  as  heavy  as 
•  \s<  year ;  but  what  there  is  of 
awful  solid."  Mrs.  Whitney 
th'?  New-England  reserve  and 
-yi-liing.  Her  seasons  are  long, 
liiily   the   springs   and  winters. 

Las  no  fancy  farming;  and  no 


luscious  fruits.  She  raises  hay  and 
com  and  apples  and  ice.  There  is  a  j^ 
sturdy,  earnest  patience  about  aU  her 
work,  and  a  faith  in  the  waiting  and 
dreary  periods,  which  only  a  New- 
Englander  could  be  expected  fully  to 
feel. 

We  should  not  wonder  if  some 
people  felt  the  stem  moral  logic  and 
the*  metaphysics  and  the  problem- 
grasping  character  of  Mrs.  Whitney, 
specially  in  "  Hitherto  "  and  "  Pa- 
tience Strong's  Outings,''  as  a  littlo 
wearisome  and  unnatural.  But  they 
do  not  know  New  England,  nor  feel 
how  truly  she  represents  it  in  these 
sternly  earnest  and  brain  and  heart 
tasking  books.  It  is  the  New-England 
granite  ami  March  winds,  and  long 
winters  and  solemn  snows,  with  the 
awful  uonhem  lights,  and  the  fogs 
and  mists  from  the  ocean,  that  make 
such  people  and  such  a  writer. 

But  the  stern  and  logical  and  hard 
mental  qualities  in  the  New-England 
mind  are  not  unfrequently  over-i:njwn  ^ 
—  as  her  btony  hills  are  cl«*the  I  with 
vines — with  a  monil  verdure  and  an 
exquisite  tracery  of  iiiia;^'iiiaTivi.*  and 
mystic  feeling;  and  it  is  ihv  b.-uuii- 
ful  clothing  of  a  luxuriant  i:]i;i;^'lna- 
tion  and  ail-clasping  .sympa:liies  ovt^r 
the  subsoil  of  intellectual  and  moral 
severity,  —  like  the  ri«.h.  fM-]iMy  loam 
of  New  England  ujK^n  her  ;_'ranite 
foundations,  yielding  t!ie  ri'  hi.-t  an«l 
most  lasting  verdure,  —  tiiut  ^ives 
^frs.  Whitney's  genius  suoh  a  New- 
England  flavor  and  power.  Slie  is  not 
tropical,  passionate,  self-ahandMiied, 
overflowing,  either  in  style  or  rliarac- 
ter;  rather  temperate,  <;ontrull»*d^ 
modest,  and  che«rked  with  a  tight 
rein.  But  how  tender  is  the  tend'-r- 
ness  of  her  rugged  men  I  IIow  having 
the  love  of  her  self-contained  and 
firm  women  !  How  mystic  and  jHjeti- 
cal     her    very    metaphysics !      How 


60 


Modern  English  Novels. 


streaked  with  fire  her  logic  I  On 
the  whole,  a  divine  tenderness  and 
delicacy  of  feeling,  like  that  of  ilowors 
that  grow  near  mountain -tops  (none 
80  heautiful  in  all  the  world  as  on 
Syrian  mountains)  diatinguiih  her  I 
Vines  that  grow  in  the  chinks  of 
rocky  precipices,  or  on  the  walls  of 
old  churches,  are  the  very  loTeliest  in 
the  world.  Tlie  emilo  of  warriors  is 
sweeter  than  that  of  saints,  and  the 
geiitlenesiS  of  stern  hands  is  gentler 
than  woman^s.  We  feel  as  if  her  na- 
ture was  that  of  a  plant  that  had  fought 
its  way  throiigli  a  frosty  cellar  to  the 
light;  or  had  its  roots  tangled  in  with 
stones,  but  had  overhung  them  with 
the  most  graceful  foliage  and  the 
most  delicate  llowers. 

Her  style  partakes  of  this  New- 
En  ghind  pulverized  granite.  It  is 
strong  atid  crisp.  She  carries,  like 
most  Kew-En glanders,  an  axe;  but 
there  is  neither  poison  on  its  edge,  nor 
jag  nor  tear  in  its  stroke  :  it  is  keen, 
incisive,  brilliant,  vigorous,  full  of 
short  strokes,  and  ringing  like  one 
cutting  his  way  through  a  Kew*Eng- 
land  tliicket  or  swamp  with  a  sharp 
hatchet  There  is  less  music  and 
oily  flow  than  many  miglit  crave. 
Indeed,  we  suspect  that  music  is  not 
a  piuision  with  the  aulhoresi*,  and  she 
may  e^en  want  a  musical  ear}  it  is 
often  »o  with  those  who  have  other 
inlets  for  the  divine  harmony,  But 
altiiough  wonderfully  crowded  and 
suggestive,  and  often  really  wearying 
in  the  multiplication  of  little  inciden- 
tal truth-marks,  there  is  not  much 
flow  in  her  genius.  It  has  rather  a 
glacier-like  movement,  slow,  fateful, 
irresistihle,  crystallic,  solemn,  than  a 
movement  as  of  a  stream,  —  bright, 
musical,  copious,  and  unbroken.  But  it 
is  full  of  glints  and  sparkles  of  wit,  a 
wonderful  felicity  of  epithets,  and  in  a 


vast  arsenal  of  telling  phrases.  She 
has  read  much  and  knows  mncli 
and  shows  incidentally  and  withoufe 
pedantry  her  botany  and  geology 
and  astronomy,  and  that  she  keeps 
up  with  the  science  and  i>hilo5o[»hy  of 
the  day,  and  is  familiar  with  the  best 
authors. 

But,  after  all,  we  return  to  the  geai* 
us  for  religion,  and  for  teaching  reli- 
gion by  fictitious  characters,  — chapi 
acters  working  out  their  salvatio) 
under  ordinary  human  and  New-Engs 
lanil  circumstances,  — as  the  cardini 
glory  and  cliarm  of  these  books, 
do  not  doubt  that  thousands  hav< 
found,  are  finding,  and  will  continm 
to  find,  a  guidance  sucli  as  they  can- 
not obtain  elsewhere  into  the  spiritaai 
and  Christian  life,  by  the  light  anc 
love  of  Mrs.  Whitney's  moral  ani 
religious  genius.  She  is  perhaps  th 
best  American  example  of  the  fac 
we  have  endeavored  to  set  forth  in 
previous  paper,  on  the  function  of  th' 
Modern  Novel,  of  the  tendency  of  oo: 
times  to  use  fiction  as  a  better  vehicle 
than  dissertation,  germon,  or  poetiys 
for  conveying  religious  truth  to  tfa 
reading  class,  —  so  much  larger  no* 
a-days  than  the  church-going  cl 
We  hope  that  Mrs.  Whitney  will  1 
long  spared  to  produce  works  like  h 
past  books  in  both  her  departmeni 
juvenile  stories,  and  novels  for  all  age^ 
It  would  have  been  delightful  to  ha' 
illustrated  every  point  in  this  noti 
by  quotations,  and  to  have  analyj 
each  one  of  her  books  in  turn  ;  bill 
we  have  thought  it  a  more  needed 
vice  to  try  to  analyze  her  genius, 
to  characterize  the  main  features 
her  mental,  moral,  and  spiritual 
stitution.  We  feel  alrea*ly  tha 
have  said  too  much  for  ourselves 
our  readers,  and  not  enough  for 
subject 


Walpurgis  Night  61 

WALPUKGIS  NIGHT. 

BY   KISS   CONSTANCE  F.   WOOLSON. 

We  waited  till  the  stroke  of  midnight,  pealing 

From  out  the  old  church-tower, 
Came  softly  through  the  silent  village  stealing;, 

And  told  the  mjstic  hour. 
We  hastened  through  the  dewy  gardens,  finding 

The  shadows  all  awake, 
Following  on,  in  long  procession  winding 

Down  to  the  dusky  lake.  ^ 

Up  rose  the  mists,  in  ghostly  ranks  advancing^ 

To  meet  us  on  the  shore ; 
And  o*er  the  silver  waters  lightly  dancings 

Our  hoat  away  they  bore, 
Far  up  the  lake,  where  the  soft  moonlight  lingers 

Upon  the  northern  strand, 
And  whispering  larches,  with  their  long  green  fingers. 

Beckon  us  towards  the  land. 

There  on  the  strand  we  sat,  and  heard  the  sing^g 

Of  Peris  in  the  air ; 
The  mermaid's  laughter  o'er  the  water  ringing; 

And  Nixie  in  despair, 
Harping  upon  his  harp  in  mournful  wooing; 

Faint  through  the  rustling  trees 
We  caught  the  shouting  of  the  Fauns,  pursuing 

The  timid  Dryades. 

We  heard  the  springs  and  rivers  onward  flowing, 

The  rush  of  balmy  showers ; 
The  unknown  soupd  of  all  the  grasses  growing. 

The  budding  of  the  flowers  ; 
And  soon  the  fragrant  woods  took  up  the  story,  — 

The  whole  wide  earth  began 
To  welcome  in  with  one  grand  hymn  of  glory 

The  birthday  of  old  Pan. 

A  silence  followed ;  then  arose  a  heyday 

Of  wild  and  lawless  mirth ; 
The  riotous  luxuriance  of  3Iay  Day, 

The  carnival  of  earth : 
All  Nature  frolicked,  till  the  gray  dawn,  blending 

With  the  moon's  fading  light, 
Proclaimed  the  mom  ;  all  the  mad  revels  ending 

Of  weird  Walpurgis  Night 


62 


The  Hymn  of  deanthe^. 


TIIK  HYIklN  OF  CLEAIJTHES. 


BY   EDWARD   BEECHEB,    D,D. 


Tht!  tjmns  and  psalms  and  sacred 
aongs  of  the  Hebrew  Bible  are  a 
phenomenon  in  the  history  of  litera- 
ture that  nothing  can  account  for 
but  the  inspiration  of  God.  The 
earliest  form  of  sacred  literature,  out- 
side of  the  Bible,  is  fonnd  ia  the 
hymns  of  the  Veda.  Next  comp  the 
Homeric  hymns.  After  this,  the 
hymns  and  odes  to  the  gods  by  more 
modern  poets  in  Greece  and  Rome. 
In  Horace  can  be*  found  odes  or 
hymns  to  almost  all  the  gods  of  the 
pantheon.  Catullus,  Yirgil,  Ovid, 
Tibiillus^  and  Propertius  have  ad- 
dressed hymns  or  prayers  to  various 
divinities ;  and  yet  in  this  whole  range 
of  literature  there  is  but  one  hymn 
that  can  be  found  presenting  tnie 
and  sublime  views  of  the  one  God, 
the  Creator  of  all  things.  Bishop 
Lowth  truly  says  of  the  representa- 
tion of  God  in  the  fiftieth  Psalra,  as 
coming  to  judge  the  world,  "*  That  high 
degree  of  sublimity  to  which  the 
Psalmist  rises  on  such  occasions  is 
only  to  be  attained  by  the  Hebrew 
muse  [  for  it  is  a  truth  universally 
acknowledged,  that  no  religion  what- 
ever, no  poetic  history,  is  provided 
with  a  store  of  imagery  so  striking, 
60  magnificent,  so  capable  of  embel- 
lishing a  scene  the  most  sublime  that 
the  human  imagination  can  compre- 
hend." The  same  is  true  as  to  all 
other  presentations  of  God.  The 
reason  is  obvious.  The  mythology 
of  the  polytheistic  nations  represents 
the  gods  rather  in  the  image  of  de- 
praved men,  than  as  holy,  self-exist- 
ent, all-wise,  almighty.  This  is  Been 
in  every  one  of  the  Homeric  hymns, 
in  some  of  which  are  celebrated  evea 
the  impure  amoars  of  gods  and  god- 


desses. Hence  Lowth  says  cor 
**The  Greek  hyuins  were  has* 
chiefly  on  mythological  narrativi 
and  those  concerning  things  whic 
merited  neither  admiration  norpraii»e 
Tlie  same  is  true  of  all  the  class 
Latin  hymns.  The  hymns  of  tl 
Veda  are  addressed  to  Indra  tl 
god  of  day,  the  Maruta  or  stoi!| 
gods,  Agni  the  god  of  fire,  and  ottl 
gods.  Some  regard  them  as  person 
fi  cat  ions  of  great  natural  agents,  ] 
is  said  by  those  who  have  studil 
the  subject,  that  these  gods  wa^ 
originally  regarded  as  dilterent  masj 
festations  of  one  God ;  and  that  in  it 
earlier  ages  he  was  not  pantheistical 
viewed-  Yet  it  is  undeniable  ths 
the  ultimate  result  was  pantheisa 
and  it  is  clear  that  to  personify  sd 
natural  agents,  and  to  address  hymi 
to  them  as  divine,  can  lead  to  no  tn 
and  worthy  worship  of  the  one  s) 
pre  me  personal  God.  Such,  then,  hi 
been  and  is  hymnology  out  of  fl 
Bible.  After  searching  in  vm 
til  rough  such  a  moral  desert  for  tii 
and  sublime  concepttooa  of  God,  I 
the  basis  of  heart-felt  communifl 
with  him,  we  are  prepared,  as  iiefl 
before,  to  apprehend  the  divine  ftl 
ness  and  glory  of  the  psalms  aH 
hymns  of  the  word  of  God,  and  to  fii 
that  nothing  can  account  for  thei 
but  the  inspiration  of  God*  And  th 
effect  will  be  augmented  by  a  carefl 
study  even  of  the  one  hymn  whicl 
rising  above  the  marshes  and  mil! 
of  pagan  mythology,  at  last  oon^ 
into  the  sunshine  of  the  true  God. 

This   one   hymn  is  the  hymn  ft 
dressed  to  Jove  by  the  Stoic  phi 
pher,  Cleanthes. 

There  are  many  reasons  for ' 


:iu  « 

I 


*The  Hymn  of  Ckantkea. 


63 


iterest  in  this  hjinn.  It  is 
.  by  all  competent  judges  as 
est  hymii  of  all  antiqaity, 
z  those  of  the  Bible.  It  has, 
:.  great  intriDsic  excellence, 
jx  an  absolute  standard.  It 
the  religious  conFictions  and 
'  of  the  more  intelligent  pa- 
a  very  interesting  and  in- 
light.  It  excites  additional 
in  view  of  the  fact  that  it 
i  by  the  Apostle  Paol,  and 
me«i  worthy  of  being  quoted 
argument  addressed  to  the 
iLS  on  Mars'  HilL  In  that 
It  he  sets  forth  God,  the 
of  all  things,  as  a  personal 
id  thereby  exposes  the  folly 
rorship.  Addressing  an  audi- 
Gretrks  he  appeals  to  certain 
own  poets  who  had  said, ''  We 
of&pring,"  and  reasons  from 
scious  personality  of  man  the 
;.  to  the  corresponding  per- 
of  God,  the  Father  of  man ; 
T15  condemns  the  representa- 
•i  wors-hip  of  the  divine  Spirit 
azr'S  of  gold  or  silver  or  stone, 
bv  art  or  man's  device." 
arztiment  can  be  more  pro- 
inl  fundamental  ?  Does  not 
I'A  cnriosity  lead  us  to  inquire 
*:re  these  poets?  Does  their 
3e,  as  they  understood  it,  sus- 
i*r  arzument  of  Paul?  What 
:  context  from  which  these 
are  taken  ?  What  light,  if 
ioes  this  quotation  throw  on 
I  a»^q'iaintance  with  the  Greek 
an<l  wiih  classical  literature  ? 
?re  is  no  field  of  thought  more 
Mrij  interesting  than  is  opened 
attempt  to  answer  these  ques- 

ansver  to  the  first  question,  the 
$  of  at  least  four  Greek  poets 
iven.  as  having  advanced  the 
)^Dt  quoted  by  PaoL    Aiatus, 


Cleanthes,  Pindar,  and  Pythagoras, 
in  the  golden  yerses  ascribed  to  him,  i| 
but  composed  by  one  of  his  disciples. 
Aratus,  referring  to  Jove,  says,  "  We 
are  his  offspring."  Cleanthes,  in  a 
hynm  to  Jove,  sajs,  "  We  are  thy  off"- 
spring."  Pindar  says,  *-God  and 
men  are  of  the  same  race  "  (or  fam- 
ily). The  golden  verses  of  Pvthag- 
oras  say,  ''  The  descent  of  man  is 
divine."  Though  the  idea  is  the 
same  in  aU  these  cases,  yet  as  the 
language  of  Aratus  and  Cleanthes 
coincides  most  accurately  with  the 
quotation  of  Paul,  and  as  he  speaks 
of  more  than  one  poet,  it  is  generally 
conceded  that  these  two  at  least  were 
certainly  referred  to  by  the  apostle. 

On  this  ground  it  is  that  a  great 
interest  has  been  manifested  in  both 
of  them  by  the  Christian  scholars  of 
the  Old  World.  In  particular,  the 
hymn  of  Cleanthes  has  been  viewed 
as  worthy  of  peculiar  regard.  Cud- 
worth  reproduces  it,  with  a  Latin 
translation,  in  his  "Intellectual  Sys-  ^ 
tem,"  as  deserving  great  attention. 
Dr.  Bloomfield  gives  it  in  full,  in  his 
"  Recensio  Synoptica,"  and  Dalzel  in 
his  '*  Graeca  Majora,"  vol.  ii.  p.  297. 
An  English  version  is  also  given  in 
West's  Pindar.  Thus  far,  however, 
American  scholars  have  paid  very 
little  attention  to  it,  except  to  refer 
to  it  in  general  terms,  in  commenta- 
ries and  church  histories,  and  very 
few  have  seemed  to  take  pains  to 
form  a  clear  conception  of  its  nature, 
relations,  and  worth.  Of  it  Dod- 
dridge says,  "  It  is  beyond  comparison 
the  purest  and  finest  piece  of  natural 
religion  of  its  length,  which  I  know 
in  the  whole  world  of  pagan  antiq- 
uity; and  which,  so  far  as  I  can 
recollect,  contains  nothing  unworthy 
of  a  Christian,  or,  I  had  almost  said, 
of  an  inspired  pen.  I  am  sorry  I 
know  not  where  to  refer  my  reader 


64 


The  Hymn  of  Cleanthes, 


to  a  good  English  version  of  it" 
The  version  of  West  is  found  only 
in  bis  translation  of  Pindari  and  has 
never  been  popularly  known.  It  has 
poetic  merit,  but,  being  in  rhyme,  is 
not  a  close  translation.  Whilst  it 
fairly  represents  the  general  aeopo  of 
the  hyran,  it  both  adds  and  omits 
ideas*  Of  the  hymn  I  propose  to 
give  an  account  and  a  version. 

Its  author,  Cleanthes,  was  the  sec- 
ond of  the  three  original  philosophers 
by  whom  the  Stoic  philosophj'  was 
developed.  He  lived  from  330  to  240 
before  Chnat,  and  flourished  in  the 
tplendid  period  of  the  Ptolemys,  the 
age  of  Alexandrian  poetry,  learning, 
philology,  and  criticism.  It  was  after 
the  age  of  I'lato  and  Aristotle,  and  in 
an  age  verging  to  skepticism  and 
epicureanism*  The  Stoics  made  a 
stand  for  virtue  and  the  philosophy 
of  common-sense.  Home  was  mis- 
tress of  all  Italy ;  and  the  Romans  be- 
gan to  resort  to  Greece  for  literature 
and  philosophy*  Cleanthes  came 
from  Lydia,  and  taught  in  Athens. 
2euo  preceded,  and  Chrysippus  fol- 
lowed him  in  the  Porch,  at  tho  head 
of  the  Stoic  schools.  The  character- 
istics of  a  hymn  are,  that  it  develops 
in  emotional  and  devotional  form  the 
leading  ideas  of  a  religious  system, 
for  purposes  of  worship*  Some  of  our 
hymns  are  condensed  systems  of  Chris- 
tian theology  in  devotional  forms. 
Such  is  the  sublime  hymn  of  Watts, 
entitled  "God  glorious,  and  sinners 
saved/*  beginning  w^ith  a  direct  ad- 
dress to  God :  — 

**Fiither,  how  wide  thy  glory  shines  I 
How  hi^h  thy  woudura  rise  I  '* 

and  developing  in  nine  stanzas  of  in- 
spired adoration  his  glory  in  creation 
and  redemption.  Others  develop 
parts  of  the  system.  The  hymn  of 
Cleanthes  has  the  same  characteris- 
tics ;  it  is  a  direct  address  to  Jove^ 


and  develops  the  religious  syst 
Cleanthes  in  its  devotional 
It    presents    his    ideas    of   God|  i 
agency,    the    law   of    God,    siaj 
its   consequences,    and    divine 
eignty  in  salvation    from   it,  bjj 
grace  of  God-     It   is   in  hexa 
measure,   and   contains    tliirty^ 
verses.     Its  poetic  merit  is  very 
But,    before  considering    thii?, 
necessary  to  answer  a  fundau 
question,  on  which    the  whole 
acter   of  the   hymn    depends. 
is  the  Jupiter  to  whom  the  hyi 
addressed?      Is    he    the    Jupit 
Greek  mythology,  the  son  of 
and  Rhea,  the   brother  of  Ne|i 
and  Phi  to,  and  the  husband  of 
his  sister?     Is  he  the  Jupiter 
shameless   amours   till    our    cla 
dictionaries,  and  whose  morals 
he  a  disgrace  to   any  civilized] 
Christian  society?     We  may  ash 
same  questions,  whether  we  reB 
Cleanthes  or  Aratus,   for  they 
declare  men  to  be   the  oflGsprin 
Jupiter,     If  this  question  is  answ 
in   the    affirmative,  how  could 
quote  fi^>m  a   hymn   to  Jupit 
though  it  conhl  have  any  force 
argument?     How  could  ha  ap( 
the    supreme   and   true    God 
addressed  to  an  earth-born  deitji 
withal  a  deity  so  infamous  ?  This  ^ 
tion  few  commentators  have#eeii 
think   it  necessary   to   meet. 
treat  the  quotation   as   if  it  hi 
reference  in  the  usual  form   to 
most  high,  the  Jehovah  of  th^ 
Testament,     Such  is  not  the  fact| 
refers  directly  to  Jupiter.     Who,  j 
is  the  Jupiter  intended  ? 

To  this  I  reply,  not  the  earthJ 
ruler  of  Olympus,   and  its   imu 
throng,  as  presented  in  the 
mythology,  upheld  by  political 
and  pious  fraud,  but  the  sclf-es 
Godf  believed  in  by  the  more 


jTAc  Hymn  of  CleantAe^.                           •lo 

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poc-..  '     ■:     Tli---    :L.</.rr:or    ^ -ij.    ii  ?:;    1. 1  .r-    .-ltt    :!,- _  *.-     7  ■    -j 

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■^•"1.  "..  :.,  :!.-:  :;i'.-  '.iiar^-f:  of  p*:.-  D-:  "'.    ._'".   '   •  '  .  r    :  ..-    .--  *■.•     : 

*»i--.-r.    .   :.-.-  ■.;/  -.z^I'tT'."^'.:^.  'l-.-r^vr-l  iii^:.    r.i.:--.     1-     :■ .     .«     ...'::..■■:. 

^•-.  :'.r   ^-  .J    :rl.j*:o??    anl    co--  =i.'l  G  ■■!  ■^..!       -rr-!-.":  r  j--/......i 

*>:  .-.        i;  1:     :li-i     Stoics     nrver  ojt  of  ::  -<  ..  '..z::.^  i  '..   •  .-t  ^:.  i  .r.- 

*"'Tr:  ;  AiTl.-siara:  ani  it  is  in  direc:  nia:e  Larni.z.r.     X:-:^   ir-:r-:.-r  .-,  ^^ 


^ 


66  The  Hymn  of  Cleanthes. 

cribed  to  the  Stoics  with  probable  cop-  and  feelings  of  Cleanthes  as  expi 

rectness,    that    sin    is   the  necessary  in  his  hymn, 
means   of  the  greatest  good.     If  they        In  two  instances  the  text  is  si 

held   it,  they  were  not  more  in  error  be  imperfect.     In  these  I  have 

than  some  Christian  divines,  who  yet  lowed  the   emendation  that  give 

stand  high  in  the  ranks  of  the  Ortho-  sense  most  coincident  with  the 

dox.  ral  scope  of  the  hymn.     In  parti* 

Having  thus  prepared  the  way,  let  in   line  fourteen  I  have  substi 

us  consider  the  hymn  itself.     In  the  *^g  for  o*;,  as  suggested  by  Dj 

version  that   follows,  I    have  sought  thus  completing  the  sense,  and  i 

neither  to  add  nor  subtract,  but  to  pre-  ing  the  supposition  of  the  lost 

sent  truly  and  exactly  the  thoughts  line. 

KAEANQ0T2 
'TMNOi:  EIZ  JU. 

KTM2)T'  ^OavuTuv,  noh)tjwfjie,  nayKparig  aid, 
Zev,  ^vtnuQ  upxjiy^,  vofiov  fiira  navra  KV^epvuv, 
Xalpc  a^  yup  nuvream  ^ifuc  dvijncai  nponavdg». 
Ex  aw  yCtp  fivog  la/ikv,  Ir/c  fitf^lia  Xaxovrec 
hlovvoi,  baa  C^ii  re  Kai  ipirei  ^fjT*  htl  yaiav. 
Tu  at  KadvfivTfau,  Kal  adv  xpurttc  aUv  uelau, 
Xol  (5^  nuc  dAe  Koafioc  iXtaaofievoc  ^^f^  yaiav 
HeiOerai,  ^  Kev  uyi^,  Koi  kKuv  i)nb  ado  xpararoi, 
Totov  ^x^ig  imoepybv  uvudiToig  hi  x^P^lv 
Afi^KTf,  iTvpoevra,  u€tQjovra  Kcpaww. 
Tot  yap  hnb  'rrhjy^g  ^vaeotc  ttuvt'  ififtiyaaiv 
'Q  a\>  KartirSvvetc  Kwvbv  XoyoVy  6f  6iu  ituvtuv 
♦wr^,  fuyvvfievoc  fieyd^MC  fUKpoig  re  ^aaiv 
'O'f  Toaaog  yeyaug  virarog  (iaaiAci'i  6tu  irnvrdc. 
Ovdi  Tt  yiyverai  Ipyov  inl  x^ovl  aov  dlxa,  daifiov, 
Olre  Kar*  aidiptov  Oeiov  iro^ov,  oI;t*  M  itovt^, 
Haj^  bnoaa  ftt^ovat  kokoI  a^ripijatv  uvolaic. 
Kal  Koafielc  tu  uAoafia,  koI  ov  ^iXa  aol  ^Tm  kariv, 
•Ode  yup  elg  iv  nuvra  aw^pfiOKog  kait?La  KOKolatv, 
*0<n^*  tva  ylyvea^at  nuvruv  Xoyov  alev  iovrar 
*0u  ^yovreg  kCxjiv^  baoi  t^vtjtuv  kokoL  eiai, 
Avafiopoi^  (HT*  uya&uv  pJtv  ael  Kn/aiv  Troi^eovref, 
O^r*  laopCtai  dcov  KOLvdv  vofiov^  obre  nXuovatv, 
•p  Ktif  neidofievoi  ar>v  vu  (ilov  ^ot^^jHv  ix<^t^- 
AvTol  6*  axr&*  bpfiuatv  uvev  KO^av  uAao^  in*  uX^ 
01  fitv  imkp  do^Tfc  anovSf^  dvaipiarov  lx<^vTe^, 
01  6'  inl  Kepdoaitvag  nTpa/ifiivoi  ovdevl  Konftif)^ 
kkXoi  6'  etf  aveejiv,  kqI  aufiarag  tjbia  ipya, 
Xnevdovreg  fmXa  nufinav  ivavrla  ruvde  yevial^au 
AXkaL  Zev  7ruy(5<jpe,  xeAoive^c,  upxiKcpowe, 
Av^pCtnovg  jivou)  uneipoavvijc  unb  Avyp^f, 
*Hv  ai>f  nurep,  aicedaaov  ijnfx^C  aim,  6bc  ^  Kvpifaai 
TvufjLTf^^  ^  niawog  ad  dUrjg  fih-a  navra  Kvjhpv^ 
O^p'  &v  Tifirr^evrec  ufieifiofua&u  ae  rifip, 
Tfjvowng  rd  aH  ipya  diTjvEKjtg,  6/g  inioute 
Ovryrbv  iovr*'   inel  olre  ^pordii  yipoQ  dXXo  n  fid^Sw, 
OOre  i&edic,  $  lUMvbv  ud  vbfiov  iv  buy  ifivdv» 


Hu  Hymn  of  Cleanthes.  67 


HYMN  TO  JUMTER. 


Gnat  Jowt,  moit  glorious  of  the  immoitsl  godi. 

Wide  known  bj  many  nunes.  Almighty  One, 

King  of  all  nature,  ruling  all  by  law. 

We  mortals  thee  adore,  as  dutj  calls; 

For  thoa  oar  Father  art,  and  we  thj  sons. 

On  whom  the  giit  of  speech  thoa  hast  bestowed 

Alone  of  all  that  lire  and  more  on  earth. 

Thee,  therefore,  will  I  praise ;  and  ceaseless  show 

To  all  thj  gloiy  and  thj  mightj  power. 

This  beanteoos  system  circling  roand  the  earth 

ObevB  thj  will,  and,  wheresoe'er  thoa  leadest, 

Fredj  sabmits  itself  to  thj  oontzoL 

8nch  is,  in  thine  nnoonqoerable  hands. 

The  two-edged,  fierj,  deathless  thnnderbolt; 

Thj  minister  of  power,  before  whose  stroke 

All  nature  quails,  and,  trembling,  stands  aghast; 

Bj  which  the  common  reason  thoa  dost  guides 

Perrading  all  things,  filling  radiant  worlds. 

The  sun,  the  moon,  and  all  the  host  of  stars. 

So  great  art  thou,  the  universal  King. 

Without  thee  naught  is  done  on  earth,  O  God  1 

Kor  in  the  heavens  above,  nor  in  the  sea; 

Naught  save  the  deeds  unwise  of  sinful  men. 

Yet  harmon J  from  discord  thou  dost  bring ; 

That  which  is  hateful,  thou  dost  render  fair; 

Evil  and  good  dost  so  co-ordinate. 

That  everlasting  reason  shall  bear  swaj; 

Which  einfiil  men,  blinded,  forsake  and  shun. 

Deceived  and  hapless,  seeking  fancied  good. 

The  law  of  God  thej  will  not  see  nor  hear; 

Which  if  tbej  would  obev,  would  lead  to  life. 

But  thej  nnhappv  rush,  each  in  his  waj. 

For  ^orj  some  in  eager  conflict  strive; 

Others  are  lost  ingk>rious,  seeking  gain  ; 

To  pleasure  others  turn,  and  sensual  jojs, 

Hasting  to  ruin,  whilst  thej  seek  for  life. 

But  thou,  O  Jove !   the  giver  of  all  good, 

Darting  the  lightning  from  thj  home  of  clouds. 

Permit  not  man  to  perish  darkling  thus; 

From  foUj  save  them;  bring  them  to  the  light; 

Give  them  to  know  the  everlasting  law 

Bj  which  in  righteousness  thou  nilest  all ; 

That  we,  thus  honored,  maj  return  to  thee 

Mtiet  honor,  and  with  hvmns  declare  thj  deeds, 

And,  though  we  die,  hand  down  thj  deathless  pnuse. 

Since  nor  to  men  nor  gods  is  higher  meed. 

Than  ever  to  extol  with  righteous  praise 

The  glorious,  universal  King  Divine. 

a  the  List  line,  law  (96(109)  is  used    idiom,  just^as  we  call  Grod  lore  and 
k  name  of    God,  bj  the  Stoical   light.     But  as  this  idiom  among  us 


68 


The  Hymn  of  Cleanthes. 


does  not  include  law^  the  word  King 
truly  expressed  the  sense  of  the 
original 

Such   is   the  hymn  of  Cleanthes; 

and  it  fully  justifies  the  eulogium  of 
Doddridge.  Willi  Du^idritlgo.  F.  W. 
Hewnmn,  in  Kitto'3  Bible  Dictionary, 
coincides.  He  says,  "  It  is  by  far 
the  noblest  religious  address  in  all 
antiquity.  Clean thes,  whilst  elevat- 
ing Ju[)iter  to  a  position  which  may 
satisfy  a  striet  monothcist,  ascribes 
to  him  the  purest  moral  character,  as 
being  the  cause  of  every  thing  except 
sin,  and  concludes  by  fervent  prayers 
for  the  divine  teaching  to  scatter  all 
darkness  from  the  soul,  and  enable  it 
to  attain  divine  wisdom." 

Lowtb,  in  his  "Lectures  on  the  Sa- 
cred Poetry  of  the  Hebrews,"  speaks 
in  the  same  strain.  *^  It  is,"  he  says, 
**a  most  noble  monumojit  of  ancient 
wisdom,  and  replete  with  truths  not 
less  solid  than  magnificent  For  the 
sentiments  of  the  philosoplier  con- 
cerning the  divine  power;  concerning 
the  harmony  of  nature,  and  the  su- 
preme laws  J  concerning  the  folly  and 
unhappiness  of  wicked  men,  who  are 
unceaisingly  subject  to  the  pain  and 
l)erturbation  of  a  troubled  spirit  j  and 
above  all,  the  ardent  supplication  for 
the  divine  assistance,  in  order  to  en- 
able  him  to  celebrate  the  praises  of 
the  omniiM>tent  Deity  in  a  suitable 
manner,  and  in  a  perpetmd  t>train 
of  praise  and  adoration,  —  all  these 
breathe  so  true  and  unaffected  a 
spirit  of  piety,  that  they  seem  in 
some  measure  to  approach  the  excel- 
lence of  the  sacred  fHjetry." 

There  is,  however,  one  part  of  this 
magnificent  hymn  which  at  first  sight 
appears  obscure.  In  v.  9-13  the  poet 
represents  God  as  regulating  the  com- 
mon reason,  that  pervades  an<l  fills  all 
worlds  by  his  tlmnderbolt^. 

To  understand  this  we  must  remem- 


ber that  the  Stoics  regarded  the  \ 
moon,  and  stars  as  animated^  inte 
gent,  and  rational,  and  as   divij 
subordinated  to   the    supremdj 
Thus   the   common    reason 
and  fills  them   all.     The   cone 
that  such  lofty  spirits  should  boJ 
euced  and  controlled  h^^  the   thd 
bolts  of  God,  though  not  fa 
natural    to    us   with    our    sen 
knowledge  of   the  electric  fluid 
not  unnatural  in  the  unscientiJ] 
of  antiquity,  in  which  the  thuad 
regarded  as  the  voice  of  God, 
lightning  as  his  fire.     And  tin 
idea  of  controlling  the  hosts  of  1 
with  reverential  fear,  by  his  tliij 
bolts,     pervades     the     twenty 
Psalm,  which  is  characteri^nl 
ander  as  a  glorious  psalm   of 
sung  during  a  thunder-storm,  th 
esty  of  whiclj  shakes  imiversal  ; 
so  much  so  that  tlie  greatness 
power  of  the  Lord   is  felt  by^ 
heaven  and  on  earth.     This 
tation  is  designed  to  teach  us  tin 
mighty  God  is,  nevertheless,  th 
of  his  people,  who  blesses  thei 
strength    and    peace.     The 
above   are   the   point   of   visiofl 
heavenly   hosts    are    spectator 
thunder    reverberates   in     sev 
peahs,  the  lightnings  flash,  the 
tains  are  rent,  the  mighty  cedi 
shattered,  the  animal  world    is  1 
with    terror,  the  earth    shakeaj 
trembles. 

Thuluck  thus  sets  forth  the  s{i 
iiilluence  of  the  scene.  **  Sail] 
earth  aJoro  and  worship  at  the 
of  the  Lord*s  tempests:  how 
more  the  holy  ones  in  heaven  I] 
celestial  spectators  gaze  up 
scene,  and  the  sound  of  *  Glory,  | 
reverberates  through  the  he 
temple.'* 

The  conclusion  of  the  Psalc 
'*  Happy  are  they  whose   God  ! 


The  (hyoM'BIower,  £3 

7  God :  bappj  *w  tbej,  forbe  w31  rf  i3m-  naaiwjtans  df  Go3"*  nn:  -nrn"  itf 

hem  strength  and  peace  foperer."  li*   Bui^ri^tsJi   ■W'-^*^   xix   njiire  liiujn 

one    can   hare  fortr'>n<i'n     l2ae  l2i>fr  ■HrcTt  cif  jtFrrrciJciiiiUi;:  fticiii^^orns^ 

ae  presentati-nn  of  G«i  in  Rev.  grcmixr  c»ut  tif  r^  r^ci:-.*ii-nrj!-  T'lcjccif 

-*'».     where     thnndrr*   rc^il    ao-1  -cf  a.i'T>^zrrr.   Trr^Kr.*-  ir-**- v:c<l:'t-  id 

linzs  fl:ish  from   his  throE*.  as  G:id23iP*^'tJr«:cijTTELiLTjf:fLrLl.i-r:iL*- 

mbcJs  of  his  oamip^teu'ce ;  whffe  ss^r**.  irLtrt  tit?*'  iirejsnrr*-  T»:»wti  c<f  ^jf.tL 

earenly  h<)s:5  adore  him  as  ihe  is  5*ti  f:cli  iwciflc-iizir  ^C'tii**-  kSTTri'Ciiinw 

C2S  and   alniigh*T   Cppa:-c*r,  Pr>-  kaJ  -cixiwcocctf  :<f  i.'ii*'  :fcr*i. 
T  and  Ruler  of  all  thing:^.  Tla*  trjtiia  tiiii.T  •G-ci-S  iijrn**^:i*if  Ei2 

e  conception,  iheref-^r*,  tnxt  G^-l  -wrritrc-iL*  li**-  -ESTresfc.  -t-r+cu  rii*   ilrV 

Dc«  the  rarioaal   srhzem  of  ti*  -e^t  or:*-??  -i-f  *Libi*i.  Vx  libt    liiLiidvrf 

rs*,  even  the  hSghesi   lainiac  1*t  aanJ  •liic'^j'SLriir* -ctf  his-  -^-m^wir-.  »    bil-j 

lander  and  lightning- is  C'>a37Ti'?a  a  f^cl'Jizi&fr  luiiJl  f*mtf**..iariJl   trrtib:  kui 

ant hes  with  the  sairre*i  "WT;t'*-rs.  tirtrt  is  i*>:4 'fl:-i:i1-<i   lisKt  Ocii    -iw^'E^tiS 

Ictes  the  fact  that  his  «M>«T*ti>a  ilLis  dixiirt-  .tztiJ:*^   ibf    co*-     erf  trtrt" 

J  snn.  m»x»n  and  stars.  asanima-T-  3B':-»<ii  T»":«rfTfidl  motiief  ctf    iK5*ifl:zrs'  tfti*- 

■i  rational  lyings,  is  an  error  in  Tc^ifi-oif  jJil  avJCtAii  li*cig?  -w::tiL  kfoiB- 

*.  destroy  the  snblimirr  or  troth  tair  few  c+f  i2at  AlaiigitT. 


THE  ORGAX-BLOWER 

I>ETomsT  <?f  naj  S^aij-iaiT  froei^dls. 
The  patient  Chgaz!>-''.'J':-»-wt-r  Wi/ds  ; 
I  see  his  figsre  sink  azji  li^t**. 

A  rE'.-riieiit  3:t«T-  il'j^  zL^rit  LiJf  *.*^^"il. 
His  h*^l  at'C'Te  :?,*■  s::a' rr  *«rTr*ri:- 

T->  save  ar::-h  ri:2i.L'*»  irivrtTiir^i  ?»>  jj  ; 
N:*  ^i>:eT.  fresh  froiD  ii-'-j  T:*-cr4w  — 
S-«  hTiml'iTr  st-OJTts.  v.-  iL'^jdj  I.^tt*  ; 
Kii-  larr^  •:-^*ri>An'?e  p^^ts  v:*  j'jarse 
The  j'TCQdest  c^iiUfieiiri;  z  -iMn*-. 
Whoie  Eister  l»:'::i]r't  ji-tt  i^-^-^-rij-is 
With  ai:  tLe  ^^yr  ^eT-:.:::-!.  Iri^'is. 

Ti  hp:*tjier  with  the  s^j-T.ur  ?t '!!;«•, 
How  mnch  we  owe  tLcts**  Ikws  '.-f  i-in*  ! 
W*i:hoat  thine  aim  t*  hud  the  t-re^z.*-. 
How  rain  the  finger  on  tLe  kers  ! 
TJ-ioagh  ail  unmatched  the  plarer's  stilL 
Those  thoasand  throats  were  dumb  aod  still : 


70  The  Organ 'Blower. 

Another's  art  may  shape  the  tone. 
The  breath  that  fills  it  is  thine  own. 

Six  days  the  silent  Memnon  waits 
Behind  his  temple's  folded  gates ; 
Bat  when  the  seventh  day's  sunshine  falls 
Through  rainbowed  windows  on  the  walls, 
He  breathes,  he  sings,  he  shouts,  he  fills 
The  quivering  air  with  rapturous  thrills ; 
The  roof  resounds,  the  pillars  shake, 
And  all  the  slumbering  echoes  wake ! 

The  Preacher  from  the  Bible-text 

With  weary  words  my  soul  has  vexed ; 

(Some  stranger,  fumbling  far  astray 

To  find  the  lesson  for  the  day ;  ) 

He  tells  us  truths  too  plainly  true. 

And  reads  the  service  all  askew,  — 

Why  —  why  the  —  mischief —  can't  he  look 

Beforehand  in  the  service-book  ? 

But  thou,  with  decent  mien  and  face, 
Art  always  ready  in  thy  place  ; 
Thy  strenuous  blast,  whate'er  the  tune. 
As  steady  as  the  strong  monsoon  ; 
Thy  only  dread  a  leathery  creak. 
Or  small  residual  extra  squeak, 
To  send  along  the  shadowy  aisles 
A  sunlit  wave  of  dimpled  smiles. 

Not  all  the  preaching,  0  my  friend. 
Comes  from  the  church's  pulpit  end  I 
Not  all  that  bend  the  knee  and  bow 
Yield  service  half  so  true  as  thou  I 
One  simple  task  performed  aright. 
With  slender  skill,  but  all  thy  might, 
Where  honest  labor  does  its  best, 
And  leaves  the  player  all  the  rest. 

This  many-diapasoned  maze, 

Through  which  the  breath  of  being  strays. 

Whose  music  makes  our  earth  divine^ 

Has  work  for  mortal  hands  like  mine. 

My  duty  lies  before  me.     Lo, 

The  lever  there  I     Take  hold  and  blow ! 

And  He  whose  hand  is  on  the  keys 

Will  play  the  tune  as  He  shall  please  I 


rzz  ''■i..t,i_:i--  ' . 

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-T.L  J  i-.T  ■.-.■-r.kjr- a::-.L  h::::;:i:.::  V  :".:i  .:■  i;i:"\    :  "..»ns.«;;»n   i  u,-  :....m\  ■■.■..•. 

...  •".-.r.i   h-sv -.Tills,    \vh:,-:i    >!io  on   In**  u-.-.i-vm*  u-ii  Us-nA       \  ^.i\   i'  :■■.; 

■j.r>    r-u^li.'.y   pr.'»::o;i:ioi*vl   I'lio  :ii»,»ur  I'.r.s  iinu'>x.»-.  .::...     .,    -    •  . 

r   .■•_*;,-    :w..i    prarityiiijj    i-om|ili-  aiul  tlir  jmI:;!  .lu  xx,**- «v»  ••«'.liii.:!\   \\i,' 

'  ^..r  'r.a-1  rrOf  ivf  J  ^iIloe   iVi'U|ty-  J»V.       .\l   l.»Nt   tlir  nuin.u.il'K-    ri\lli    .« 

Ti.r.-iit-.  tlmu*    zirnx  I'll        I'Im-    i'  n    i»l     l*«i     'i 

>\;is   ill    |*.in«*  lie-    IkI'I   .  .uiir    (u'UI    llll 

T.i?   w«-n    al'jnjj    in    MuV,  of   tin*  tlif»t;mt    rin|»Mi-,    muiihi.hii -I    l'\    N  II'.' 

E.xjKi-ition  vrar  18<>7,  wlifii  tlu»  li'uii'.s    own   li.inil,   In  u   \  «• '*    "I    •'••• 

:  A:ij-rir:i:i  fount!  liimsflf  rosily  F.rjntsituni  i  nini>tl!t   win.  Iiu.    ito 

'Hj:  irtably  Kx:ato<l  in  ai)urtnn*nts  M-ani  ly   Iiojn-   hi  ^^  •■  c-.jn.illiil   m  '"h 

'■:?  HmU-1  Clermont,  No.  0(5   iJin*  <I:iy   anil    lmih  i.iIimh        I  lo-    l.n»|.ii.i 

"jkir.  I'aris.    \V\>  recojitifin,  Uitli  did  well  lolumj,'  ;d».iiii  liiiu  nm  li»'  n-Hv 

in  and  l»y  courteous  oflicial?*  at  way  tin-  myid   j.Mii:i;t  wImi  |/i.|'"I  H.. 

rjati-m.    \va.s  all  that  rould    Imj  ^tvaX    I'him  h   ^llo\v    «.!    n-H M- 

d.  and   more  than     could  Iiavn  km-w  lidl  will  ili»<   ih»Hiiii|/  I'mll     -i 

tij»*:ct»rd  ill  the  midat  of  a  M^a-  idli'.lnally  wiv«-   Im   tn--i *%li..l» 


72 


The  PUgrinCa  TdU. 


some  respect  for  France,  in  foreign 
eyes,  as  a  glimpse  of  her  concentrated 
magnificence  on  an  occasion  like  that 
allbrded  by  the  Fair.  In  its  bright 
liglit,  prejudice,  that  cx>bweb  of  the 
brain,  would  be  sure  to  dissolve  like  one 
of  Professor  Pepper's  ghosts.  And  so 
the  rulers  of  the  earth  came  from  their 
various  quarters ;  and  now,  not  only 
the  Czar,  but  King  William  of  Prussia 
and  his  Queen,  supported  by  Count 
Bismarck,  were  also  in  Paris,  together 
witli  continental  princes  innumerable. 
Still  it  was  Alexander  XL  whom  Ka- 
poleon  III.  sought  just  now  specially 
to  honor  by  his  warlike  display  of  the 
8ixth  of  June ;  and  whatever  may 
have  been  his  shrewd  speculations  con- 
cerning the  effect  of  a  great  military 
review  on  other  sovereigns,  who  had 
but  recently  escaped  a  fierce  collision 
with  the  troops  to  be  exhibited,  the 
parade  was  certainly  not  announced 
as  in  their  honor. 

The  day  was  one  of  those  clear, 
briglit,  breezy  days  which  are  rare,  in 
such  pr^rfoction,  even  in  Paris.  It 
was  probably  just  such  a  day  as  the 
French  Emperor  would  have  chosen 
for  his  glorious  fete,  "  if  kings  could 
r:.»a:l  the  future  as  the  past ;  "  and  from 
early  morning  the  idle,  pleasure-seek- 
in  ;^  world  of  the  metropolis  poured 
ti) rough  the  broad  Champs  Elysces 
ill  a  brilliant  stream,  debouching  in- 
HJile  the  gilded  gates  of  the  Bois  de 
r»oulogne,  and  concentrating  again  at 
Longchaiup.  Longchamp  was  to  be 
the  scone  of  the  great  review  of  sev- 
enty-five thousand  brilliantly  uniform- 
el  French  soldiers;  and  before  the 
hour  of  noon  a  reasonable  estimate 
declared  the  presence  of  five  hundred 
thotisaful  spectators,  eager,  anxious, 
impatient.  Such  was  the  demand  for 
vehicles  of  every  description  that  it 
was  considerably  past  noon  when  our 
American   pilgrim   succeeded   in  se- 


cnring  the  servicoB  of  a  vaUung^ 
the  Grand  Hotel,  for  which 
franca  were  mercilessly  den 
A  gentleman  from  New  OtUmuis 
came  his  eompagium  de  j<mr,  i 
turnout  proved  comme  U  favt  ia^ 
respects;  but,  with  aa  expedition*^ 
ing  as  was  possible,  they  reached  i 
inner  gate  too  late  to  procure  anyt 
like  tolerable  positions  from 
overlook  the  fileld.  After  varion*) 
perimentSy  their  experienced 
bethought  liim  of  an  elevation  i 
side  the  charmed  enclosure  of 
champ,  and  finally,  with  much 
culty,  drove  them  thither  thi 
labyrinth  of  throng^  avenues  of^ 
Bois.  Even  this  hopeful  apofer! 
not  without  its  throng,  group 
the  roofs  of  vans,  the  topa  of  > 
riages,  and  the  limbs  of  trees  f^ 
by  adroit  management  and  aii.( 
ployment  of  that  power  of  pdife 
which  is  so  much  more  effectivo  ^ 
a  French  crowd  than  any  an 
blustering  and  dictation,  the 
driver  located  his  stylish  little  i 
in  a  most  excellent  place.  The 
if  only  awaiting  the  arrival  of  i 
tor  whom  destiny  had  marked 
an  involuntary  performer  in  a 
scone,  not  yet  announced,  the 
began. 

A  military  pageant  such  as  this^ 
not  well  be  described.     I  doubt  if  i 
Victor  Hugo  could  do  it  justice  inJ 
eyes  of  one  who  has  beheld  the  i 
scene.     It  must  be  witnessed  in| 
its  thrilling   grandeur   and   da 
magnificence  to  be  thoroughly  un 
stood  and  feelingly  remembered 
ever. 

The  driver* 8  strong,  elevated 
used  as   a  standing-place,  fur 
our  two  friends  with  a  fair  look 
and  from  this  high  perch,  by  the] 
of  a  lorgnettej  they  were  efnablc 
enjoy  the  inspiring    spectacle 


The  Pilgrim's  Tale. 


•omfort  and  convenience.  Bat 
perial  pavilion,  where  accumu- 
iiaj**jitv  was  stationed  to  receive 
.j:e>  of  seventy-five  thousand 
r-.  oh:ince»l  to  l>e  just  so  situ- 
uit  :he  two  American  spectators 
j>t  include  this  interesting  fea- 

ihf^ir  range  of  viMon.  IU*ing 
-  to   have  a   ji'XkI  look  at   Bis- 

<whom  neitliiT  of  them  had 
■t.  either  at  court  or  at  that  fa- 
Vienna  l»eer-shop  in  the  Rue 
i-'e  d'  Ant  in  which  the  grreat 
vr  was  known  to  frequentX  thev 
lineal  to  secure  a  new  position, 
:.  li^ar  the  exit-gate  of  Long- 
k.  s-i  a.^  to  have  a  fair  view  of  the 
'JL  Iv  of  P.-^yalrv  homewanl  bound. 
i'.*r  to  elfect  this  thev  were 
•i  TO  lc»se  the  closing  scenes  of  the 
■-.  Irave  th«:-ir  carriage  in  a  se- 
l  avenue  of  the  Bois  for  a  in- 
e::  Ic-zvoTi^  in  case  of  sejiaration, 
i-ake  the  l»*-st  of  tlif  ir  way  to  fa- 
i-T-^isiti-'its  bef.ii^  tlie  retreating 
I  itid  tak*=*n  j^osspssion.  Of 
-*  "iVi^  fri»':i'l-;  were  ?rif*»ilily 
:  :  V  The  vSt-M:^i.»n  of  this  'iitn- 
■ -i".  .p-jvr^  ;  f 'F  •»th'-T*.  int^-rjt  on 
.,  .  ir    ■"•'.;'•:'•.•:    w.-fh*    sf^c-king    tlie 

'  ■  .*":*v.  <.>:i*^  t'f  tilt-  tw.-».  how- 
*^  wr—i  Li  m"»-r  ^-x  •♦-l-'^nT  j»I.'u'*:'on 
r/-r  •■!*  UM'  niain  avHaii»r.  n-iire 
-  tt  i-:i  ::::"il  iM^-ad.j'  wr:i.:i  is 
•r.  ]-  •  :"  tl:*-  B  i-.  and  liut  f?.r 
.  v.r  L  •:;j  'jaTuti  «Mt»>-.  ''jr-ii'^h 
-■■,  r.->:  V  .*:i-'  T-h-  iiiTK-rU   T'^irry. 

:■■  jrirn  li^d  r.'»t  I  -ng  to  wait. 
i"-.:.'-:  fi-r.i!  L  dn-iiin^  t;)r>'vzh 
'T  w  L  T-rv];t;:i*-d  •b»='  c..tm:n3  '.-f 

E'l-^^r -r:  a:;  1.  «jn:'-kly  f'.i!I>w- 
.  r^'.r  t;..:*:  ii.-':i«*'.rnHrit  of  the 
r. .:.  -:.*  '.  \  r,  t  Q^  r  r*h  .<  w! i : :  h  al- 
r-  i,fv.  ^-.-.i  thr  iTir^^-ri'il  carrinc;*'. 
r  rr-T-i  w:*.4  r-r^-.^'-d  ba«"k  hy 
-*:;•-:  ;--.:!:-e  wit'i  diiE':al*y  :  but  a 
,-t.  ..y.r^t.  ri^ar.  the  sroree^»rjs  pK»stIl- 
5  '.-f  LI?  iL*je»tv  were  seen  rapidly 


advancing  and  urging  their  horses  to 
a  gentle  trot;  for  his  Majesty's 
equipages  always  moved  faster  than 
a  walk,  to  avoid  the  danger  of  injuring 
the  curious  jKipnlace  who  would  cn)wd 
about  a  slower  veliicle.  In  that  first 
carriage  sat,  side  by  side,  the  men 
then  recognized  as  the  two  great  em- 
perors of  Europe. 

They  hiwl  both  l)een  mounted  dur- 
ing the  review,  but  entered  and  left 
the  field  in  Napole<m's  splen«lid  oi)en 
barouche,  accompanied  only  by  a  son 
of  the  Emperor  Alexander,  tlie  grand- 
duke,  I  I  relieve,  who  is  now  our 
guest.  Just  as  this  party,  cheered 
by  the  voices  of  half  a  million  people, 
and  happy,  to  all  appearance,  as  mon- 
archs  may  ever  hope  to  be,  arrived  at 
a  |K)int  directly  opijosite  where  our 
pilgrim  was  standing,  he  felt  himself 
severely  jostled,  and  turned  to  resent  a 
rudeness  which  he  knew  to  he  excee/1- 
ingly  rare  in  a  crowd  of  Frenchmen, 
under  any  circumstance;*.  The  man 
wlio  struggled  to  jkiss  him  might  have 
Ik'^-u  takt-n  for  one  of  the  orlinury 
w.irk-pwile  of  P.iris.  It  wa-*  iin[»  »*- 
si'jl^.  at  tiie  instant,  to  dis;'>-.-*-r  his 
r»^al  na'iviry.  He  was  yj.in^;  hit 
th»^  fa'*e  was  distortel  with  p  i-*i m  or 
pain,  and  a  will  Ii;^iit  gleam'*!  in  his 
Moo'l-^h'it  ey**s.  An  hoir  earli-^r  a 
hioMsed  work  man  had  f  ill-.-n  in  a  fi*. 


br-n 


..L-^ 


the 


whe'.ds  of  v.\*t 
Am-^riran's  v/ifure.  a'ld  th*  terriM*^ 
di -Portions  of  the  vi.;*im*^  t'»-iitijr**s 
wf^n*   not   unlike    X.hri«^    on    tli-    f.tce 


vl.ii-fi 


I  now  i-on: 


'■I  1 


i:s  own    ViZ  a 


morn-nt.  It  appear- 1.  ir.  1**»"L  a:;  riier 
ca«»e  of  epil^p'V  ;  and  tli^  n:an'.-?  hTf^z- 
Pf'^s  was.  fir  an  i::-ira:jt.  r'-rar-i^r  I 
r  r i  r  ..Tj  gli  f. -ar  t : i . t*  : :  i e  j  ►^j'^ r  f».-  i  1  <  ^ w  w  -> 1 1 1 1 
fall  undr-r  the  f*^*-*:  of  hi.-?  Maj-:-*y'.s 
l!.-,r^<.  B'lt  another  ir^tent  at  once 
a^'T^areil-  H-  s^-em-rl  d:-posel  to di*- 
p:ite  the  pilgrim's  desirable  i^«o»irion 
with  him,  to  the  extent  even  of  force, 


^PHH 


74 


The  Pilgrim's  Tale. 


if  Tiecesgary;  and  witli  this  second 
ini.Hun^lerstajicIing  of  the  matter,  there 
wzs  iramediatclj  begun  a  resistance 
whii'h,  though  brief,  was  d«?termiiit?d. 
Suddenly,  however  (for  tlie  scene  waa 
enacted  in  fiir  less  time  tliaii  it  takes 
to  write  these  words),  the  workman 
wrenched  himself  loose  irom  the 
American's  grasp,  dashed  p:\st  hi  in 
into  the  open  spitce,  and,  producing  a 
pistol  whii'h  h:id  beeu  hitherto  con* 
cealed,  lired,  without  time  for  aim. 
The  pistors  report  was  remarkably 
loud*  For  a  second  it  deafened  the 
pilgrim**  ears,  and  the  smoke  of  the 
exploded  powder  blinded  his  eyes. 
Then  came  confusion  indescribable, 
There  was  a  babel  of  tongues,  a  terrible 
whi ding  and  jostling  of  the  crowd,  a 
roll  of  wlieels,  a  clatter  of  hoofs,  a 
w^omau\^  shriek  heard  over  all,  an<l,  in 
less  than  a  brai*e  of  minutes  after  the 
pistol-sliot  was  fired,  our  pilgrim  found 
himself  carried  bodily,  with  the  sur- 
ging tide  of  terrilied  humanity,  far 
away  from  the  scene  of  conflict,  un- 
dergoing en  route  a  shelling  process, 
as  regards  bnttcjns,  complete  as  a 
patent  corn-sheller  could  accomplish. 
Very  sad,  sore,  and  dilapidated  was 
the  humljle  pilgrim,  who  extricated 
liimself,  a  compressed  atom,  from  the 
general  mass.  Bruised,  breathless, 
buttonless,  —  this  was  enough  to 
know.  That  assassination  had  been 
tlie  desperate  young  man's  purpose; 
that  tlu?  Emperor  Alexander  had  been 
his  intended  victim  ;  that  Berezowski, 
a  Pole^  had  sougijt  in  this  mad  way  to 
avenge  bis  country's  wrongs;  that 
immediate  arrest  had  tol lowed  his 
attempt;  that  the  Americanos  mo- 
mentary struggle  with  the  Pole  was 
thought  to  have  saved  the  good  Czar's 
life ;  that  the  two  emperors  warmly 
embraced  in  full  view  of  the  excited 
thousands  about  them,  and  audibly 
thanked  God  for  so  miraculoua  an  es- 


cape, —  these  were  facts  to  he  i 
long  afterwards.  For  the  presefl 
only  remained  for  the  dilapidated 
grim  to  drag  his  damaged  body  to 
renilezvous,  and  urge  an  impal 
ro'*her  homewards  with  a  speed 
erated  by  the  application  of 
spurs. 

That  night  all  Paris  was  wild 
the  event  of  the  day.     But  the 
of  excitement  which  rolled  so  id 
uously  along  the  boulevards  si^a 
disturbed  the  tide  of  affairs  in  the  j 
d  ^Abouklr^  where   our   pilgrim 
away  the  time  in  forge tfulness 
many   bniises,  and  where   hardlj 
echo  of  the  city's  rejoicings  penetr 

Kext*  morning  he  was  still  too  1 
for  much  exertion,  and  therefore 
patched  a  messenger  for  his  mail,  i 
was  dLie  at  an  early  hour  in  the 
Scribe  (Monroe^s).     Thiit  messeng 
an    American    friend,    returned 
something  of  an  epistolary   natqs 
bis  hands,  but  something  more  « 
sive  and  more    extraordinary   in  ^ 
head.     He  hastened  to  relieve  hir 
of  the  latter  harden  by  the  folM 
explosion :  — 

"  What  in  the  devil  are  you  sit) 
here  for  whining  over  a  few  scr 
D — u  it  J  don't  you  know  you  ar 
most  famous  man  in  Paris  to-dajj 
that  your  name  is  in  every 
mouth  ?  *' 

**  Nonsense  !  "  was  the  pilgrim's! 
grateful  reply.     But  it  proved 
not  all  nonsensa.     Other  friends 
arrived  to  corroborate  somcthinj 
the  messenger's  extravagant  talttjj 
to  tfll  the  sequel  of  y  ester  J  ay  ^s  dr 
whose  opening  scene  alone  wa^  kl 
to  one  important  actor.     At  a  i 
hour,  temporarily  overcoming  ind 
sitioQ  to  gratify  a  considerable 
mittee  of  Americans,  our  pilgrim  J 
conveyed  to  the  Rue  Scribe,  and! 
added  his  humble  name  to  an 


The  Pilgrim's  Tale. 


75 


ed  to  congratulate  "The  Em- 
if  all  the  Russias  "  on  his  provi- 
I  presenration  from  death  hy 
kssassin^s  hand.  During  the 
g  which  followed,  while  gay 
outshone  herself  in  a  blaze  of  il- 
ition,  in  honor  of  the  Czar's  es- 
our  pilgrim,  still  ailing,  sat  at 
surrounded   by   a     party     of 

fellow-countrymen,  and,  in 
Sehalf  and  his  own,  wrote  has- 
that  poem  of  rejoicing  which 
ht  him  ultimately  in  contact 
kron  Budberg,  and  involved  him 
nperial      diplomatic     mysteries 

remain  to  this  day  unex- 
d.  The  poem,  impromptu  and 
feet  as  it  is,  may  possibly  be  pe- 
with  interest  on  account  of  the 
IS  events  to  which  it  immedi- 
led. 

THE   czar's   escape. 

L  torches,  flash !  light  the  heavens  with 
re! 

binseri,  wave!  from  dome,  toiret,  and 
ivt\ 

i.  trampets,  sonnd  our  rejoicings  afar ! 
jlad  Dotes  to  the  house  of  the  Czar ;  — 
Lives  Alexander ! 

.people,  shoat  your  thanksgiving  and 
raije! 

.  cvmbals,    clash     through  the   city's 
bci02wi  wavs  ! 

.  i4::^n>ts,  blaze  on  the  hill-side  and  plain ! 
*,  ihj  lare  and  thy  chief  is  not  slain,  — 
Lives  Alexander ! 

irch  of  millkms,  America's  friend, 
bffs  above  for  thy  rescne  we  send ; 
J  oor  voices  thy  safety  proclaim  ; 
roar  hearts  echo  back  the  refrain, — 

Lives  Alexander ! 

I  waA  we  have  clasped  hands  o'er  the 

ia^  as  brothers  henceforward  to  be : 
i  ibe  for  ns  where  no  other  stood  by  ; 
re  exalt,  and  r&^cho  her  cry,  — 

Lives  Alexander ! 

lad  is  die  annor  of  life  that  ye  wear 
oaed  by  Ileaven  with  kindliest  care) ; 


Let  base  assassins  assail,  if  they  will, — 
God  is  thy  shield,  and  the  stroke  cannot  kill :       -^ 
Lives  Alexander  1     ^^ 

Friend  of  humanity,  ever  in  vain 

Be  the  blow  aimed  that  would  shatter  thy 

reign! 
Long  be  thy  life  in  the  land  thou  hast  blest ! 
Long  may  we  hear  in  our  far  distant  West,  —    * 
Lives  Alexander! 

Emperor,  live  thou  but  true  to  thy  past ; 
Rule  but  with  justice  and  right  to  the  last : 
Then  even  death  cannot  conquer  thy  fame. 
And  o'er  thy  tomb  shall  the  nations  proclaim. 
Lives  Alexander  I 

Baron  Budberg  was  at  this  time 
Russian  ambassador  to  the  court 
of  the  Tuileries  and  lived  at  Gre- 
nelle-St.  Grcrmain,  79.  The  verses 
probably  reached  his  hands  through 
Gren.  Dix,  then  American  minister; 
and  it  was  intended  they  should  be 
forwarded  to  Alexander  II.  Instead 
of  this  designed  and  very  natural  dis- 
position, however,  they  were  retained 
at  the  embassy,  and  the  distinguished 
minister  sent  for  their  author.  The  ^ 
difficulties  and  delays  experienced  in  ^ 
finally  accomplishing  an  interview 
need  not  be  dwelt  upon.  Our  pilgrim 
stood  at  last  in  the  august  presence 
of  the  Czar's  representative;  stood 
there  for  thanks,  for  honors,  for  gifts 
perhaps!  — you  shall  see. 

Baron  Budberg.  — We  un<lerstand 
you  were  instrumental  in  saving  our 
sovereign's  life  on  Thursday  last. 

Pilgrim,  —  Such  is  the  bolief  of 
disinterested  spectators,  Mons.  le 
Baron  ;  but  the  service  was  quite  ac- 
cidental and  involuntary,  —  so  much 
so,  that  I  was  not  aware  it  had  been 
performed  until  many  hours  after- 
ward. 

Baron  Budberg  (with  satisfaction). 
—  Indeed  !  Then  you  will  scarcely 
demand  any  recognition  of  the  act  — 
scarcely  claim  any  reward  ? 

Pilgrim  {proudly),  —  If  I   might 


76 


The  Pilgrim's  Tale. 


cherish  tho  belief  that  I  have  been 
the  means  of  averting  a  sudden  and 
terriblo  death  from  his  Imperial  Maj- 
esty, wlioin  I  regard  as  my  country's 
faithful  friend,  the  knowledge  of  the 
fact  would  be  my  best  reward.  Since 
there  is  a  doubt  if  I  may  really  hold 
even  to  this  belief,  in  view  of  all  the 
rircuinstances  of  the  case,  I  assume 
no  right  to  any  compensation.  You 
misrako  me,  Mons.  le  ijaron. 

Baron  Budherg.  —  It  is  well. 
Tliere  are  imp)rtant  reasons  why  his 
M;ij«'sty  should  not  at  present  be  dis- 
turbed with  importunities  of  any  sort. 
I  have  your  fine  poetry  dedicated  to 
the  Czar;  but  you  must  allow  me  to 
exercise  my  own  discretion  as  to  the 
propor  time  for  transferring  it  to  his 
M:ijesty.  It  will  not  be  soon.  Can 
you  wait? 

PiJfjnin,  — I  have  no  choice  but  to 
await  your  pleasure,  Mons.  le  I^aron. 

Baron  Budherg.  —  A  presentation 
of  tlie  poem,  just  at  present,  would  call 
for  some  recognition  from  his  Maj- 
esty ;  and,  as  I  have  intimated,  there 
are  state  reasons  why  any  such  dem- 
onstration on  his  part  wouM  be  ex- 
tremely imprudent  now  and  here. 
You  are  an  x\merican,  and  will  hardly 
comprehend  how  this  can  be. 

rif'frim..  —  I  have  no  need  to  un- 
derstand. It  is  enougli  that  I  submit 
entin'ly  to  your  superior  wisdom  and 
dis'T(»t  Ion. 

Ihirnn  Budherg.  —  Do  you  appear 
against  the  prisoner,  Uerezowski  ? 

riJ'jr'cu.  —  I  have  not  yet  been 
inf<)rined  that  I  shall  be  wanted.  I 
slioiiM  prefer  to  escape  the  publicity 
of  an  examination,  if  possilde. 

Bfrrou  BuiJhrrg.  —  I  can  manage 
that  for  3'oii,  and  will  do  so  on  one 
condition.  Promise  that  the  results 
of  this  interview  shall  remain  a  secret. 
I^romise  also  that  you  will  not  seek 
present  recognition  from  the  Emperor 


Alexander  for  any  service  yon 
have   rendered,   and   will   not    i 
others  to  make   any  claims  in 
behalf.     Let  this  promise  hold 
for  the  space  of  three  years,  if  yc 
not  sooner  hear  from  me ;  and,  ii 
turn,  I  will  save  you  from  the  an 
ancc  of  a  public  examination   in 
Berezowski  case.     At  the  end  of 
period  named  I  shall  have  left  P 
but  you  may  seek  me  in  person  a 
Petersburg,  or  remind  me  of  thii 
cumstance  by  letter;  meanwhile, 
must  agree  to   silence,  unless  I 
an  earlier  signal  to  break  it. 

Pilgrim.  —  You  wrong  me,  ^ 
le  Baron,  by  persisting  in  the  b 
that  I  am  mercenary  and  desigi 
I  do  not  hold  either  yourself  o; 
Majesty  indebted  to  me  in  anj 
gree.  Let  what  is  past  he  past 
the  good  emperor  may  some  time  t 
the  better  of  my  country  for  any  1 
involuntary  service  of  mine,  I  am 
tent.  You  have  just  the  same 
unconditional  promise  to  all  tlu 
required. 

Baron    Budherg.  —  We     do 
wrong  you.  Monsieur,  and  we  arc 
ungrateful ;  but  we  am  prudent 
might   have    indiscreet    friends, 
harm    might    be   done   without  ^ 
knowledge   or   connivance.      Pre 
this,  if    possible ;    and,   since  I  1 
your  promise  to  the  rest,  we  may 
friends,  eh  ?     We  are  certain  to  l 
again ;  but  now,  adieu. 

U horn  me  propose.,  et  Dieu  dis^ 
They  were  7iot  destined  to  meet  a^ 
Only  a  few  months  after  our  pi!j 
sailed  from  Europe  for  his  native  1 
Mons.  le  Baron  Budherg  was  k 
in  a  duel,  and  the  secret  of  his  e3 
ordinary  conduct  respecting  " 
Czar's  Escape "  has  probably 
with  him.  Xo.  79  Grenelle-St. 
main  has  another  "  Ambassadeu; 
traordinaire  et    pleni^wtentiaire ' 


The  Pilgrim's  Tale. 


kT.  who  is  most  likely  a  stranger  to  the  exhibicioa  of  imperial  weakness  and 

cts  ac»3ve    related.     They  occurred  Bar>Q  Budbenjfs  deep  aaxiecy  in  hia 

i  June.  *07 ;  and  the  promised  three  sorereign's    behalf  more    thaa    three 

fears  ■■!  >:irace  are  lon^  ^ince  accom-  years  before,  can  only  l^e  c»>::ject'.;red. 

|Ls!:e<L     Ba:  notwithstanding  Mons.         But  the  stran,:es:  cir«:uiii>:ance  in 

I5ir 'n'>  precautions, — always  sup-  this  odd  series  of  evtiizs  r:':;ia::is  to 

jOsiLj  j-nr-^auti'^n  to   hare    been    his  be  relate«L     Xo:    ma:*y   r:.>irs    alter 

i3««::.  —  rrlatives    of    the    Emperor  the    reo^nicl    interview  with    Baron 

AkxaL'ier.  liear  and  far,  became  ac-  Budber.;.  considerable  com  :U":[*u  was 

^Bazntoi  with  the  facts  of  that  mem-  excited  in    the   vicinity   ot   00   Bue 

tnb'.e  ?ceiie  in  the  Bois  de  Boulogne;  D'Aboukir   by  the   unusual   appear- 

ud  ?»>:ne  *n  them,    both    by    letter  ance  there  of  one   of  the    Emperor 

•frl  in  TKrrS'>n,  rejoiced  the  pilgrim's  Xapi>le'ju's      well-known      carriages. 

kar:  w:::i  liberal  thanksw     Antl  one  Though  one  of  the  plainest  oi    the 

ligii:  a:    the    Tuileries,  during    the  imperial  vehicles^  it  was  qaickly  rec- 

kperiil  visit  to   Paris,  the  Russian  ognizel  by  the  people,  and  its  solitary 

E«i»rr>r  jaased  in  a  pr:>menade  with  occupant    was    folio wtrd    by    curious 

la^uie,  :o  rest  his  hand  for  a  moment  crowds  to  the  portal  of  the  Hotel  Cler- 

feihe  j'*i^Z  Americanos  shoulder,  in  mont.     Had  there  been  doubts  about 

ifrieniiy  way,  which  seemed  to  indi-  the  carriage,  however,  there  could  be 

ate  aa  ac<|aaincance  with  thecircum-  none  concerning  the  character  of  a 

Mmctrs   •>!    the   escape.      It   was   so  document  in  a   large,  square,  tinted 

•csrruci  at  the  time  by  other  Ameri-  envelope,     sealed     with      Xapijle»:)n's 

oas  who  witnessed  the  act,  and   the  private  seal,  and  marked  '*  Cabinet  de 

tniple   touch  was  speedily  exagger-  r£mpereur"    in    large    red    letters 


Udl  into  an  embrace.  But  this  is 
kiril/  ii  fair  supj^^sitiou,  in  view  of 
ill  t":*^:  hx-  t^an:^pire•l ;  a:id  it  is  more 
pr::^*b.e  his  Majesty's  kindly  recog- 
aid'  n  wa.s  rir>mpted  by  some  word  of 
the  liTrrly  Empress  who  hung  up-on 
ii*  mrui.  A  late  report  from  the 
Eis'.^iau    capital,    received     throuj^h 


acD>ss  its  enX  which  the  lonely, 
dignided  occupant  of  the  carriage  was 
commissioned  to  deliver. 

It  is  questiviuable  if  ever  in  the 
past  the  glisten i a::  wheels  ui  r».»yal 
coaciies  have  rolled  along  this  tj^iiet 
street,  or  dainty  steps  of  lonl  an«l  lady 
have    sounded   on    its    narrow    pave- 


v.an  journals,  speaks  of  a  scene  ments ;  but  certainly  not  within  the 

i:  '-.-.r:  during  the  reception  of  some  memory  of  any  living  oi^'cupant  had 

U'L-5  ui.-i  ^rentlemen  from  the  United  the    unpretending    Hotel    Clermont 

StaTrs.     One  ^f  the    former,  alluding  been  so  honored  as  on  that  •l.iy.     The 

fcelijzly   to    the     Czars    miraculous  distinguished  court  odicial   lie^reuled 

pr^*-r7ati-jLi   through  the  instrumen-  with   his  formi«]a'L»le   epistle,   amid   a 

ulitj  o:'  one  of  her  countrymen,  and  swarm  of  uncovered  heads  and  wiiis- 

fiT-rTr^ing  gratification  that  it  should  pered   utterances  oi   a   noble    i:a:ue ; 

fciTr   l-e^n    s«>,    was    surprised     and  for  it  wiis  the  Duke  de  1>.  wh"iu  a 

ilarnr-l    by    his    Majesty's    extreme  liveried    footman   assisted    to   alight. 

€»>::•:.  a:  what  she  said^  —  an  emo-  If  there  was  confusion   witliout   the 

tif>:«  x:.;.  h  is  declared  to  have  result-  hotel,  there  was  consternation  within. 

•-I  in  A  fiiiiting-fit.    Truly,  little  short  Nothing  short  of  an   arrest,  it   was 

of  tr:r*ori:nary!     But  what  connec-  ignorantly  believed,  could  bring  such 

tio:.  :L-.- re  may  have  been  between  this  a  guest  to  the  Clermont;  and  when 


The  Pxhpim'a  TaU. 

tiM|mijf  tat  CNtr 


Ike  Dak»  4e  B 

by    kit 

alafmed  eiitertaiiief%  for  tiM  £ite  oC 
ft  |inMifi«r  of  etUe.  Xot  bo^  iMnrever. 
Ibe  Pake  brongkl  m  brief  tmi  poai- 
deions  lookt&g  dociiiaeat  with  kim, 
wliicbf  oomteoos  mad  to  Ike  potiit» 
g»ve  Msanuice  tkai  kit  Higkiic»  wis 
let  i  tig  br  NapoleoB^s  diieetioii.  This 
DAilerstooilf  there  wis  comiiiQiiiciited 
sa  important  state  seciet.  It  was 
tkat  BecesowikPi  b<ille^  which  had 
keen  ao  pcovidentiallj  tamed  aside 
from  the  Emperor  of  Russia,  had  act- 
ual] j  hit,  and  sligbtlj  injtiredy  his 
Majestj  the  Emperor  of  France. 
**Not  even  the  Czar  Alexander  is 
aware  of  this  fact^*'  continued  the 
Duke  de  B. ;  ''  and  the  Emperor  Na- 
poleon will  not  have  the  circumstance 
promulgated  while  his  imperia]  guest 
remains  in  Fari^,  %o  deeply  anxious 
is  he  to  shield  that  august  soFereign 
from  all  annoyance."  The  pilgrim 
wad|  of  cour^,  duly  and  properly 
shocked  and  surprised  at  this  an- 
nouncement; but  the  Duke,  taking 
no  heed  thereof,  proceeded.  "You, 
Monsieur,  are  believed  to  have  been 
innocently  ins^umental  in  giving 
direction  to  the  Pole's  pistol-ball; 
hut  the  Emperor  holds  you  blame- 
les8»  and  desires  to  do  you  a  service, 
—  truly  a  service,  though  it  may  be 
an  unwelcome  one  to  you.  I  am  here 
to  prove  it  But  you  will  permit  me 
to  say,  en  passant j  that  it  is  ex- 
tremely fortunate  you  have  pressed 
no  claim  to  coui^ideration  for  the  pres- 
ervation of  one  emperor,  since  possi- 
bly you  might  else  be  held  responsible 
for  the  injury  to  the  otherJ-  "My 
lonl  Duke,"  said  the  pilgrim,  with 
becoming  tnowkness,  yet  with  some- 
thing of  a  Yankee*8  native  pride  stir- 
ing  in  hia  bosom,  —  **  My  lord  Duke, 
I   am   not  conscious   of    having  at- 


any  wiy  to  mike 
in  this  naiaer;  as 
0aif  ptimA  ky  rvpcsled  Intia 
Ikafr  I  kare  beea  tiioiight  c&pl 
mm  ettdcaror  to  laake  capital  ati 
mere  aecadeat  I  desire  it  to  b 
di^rilMTnd,  onee  ix  aU,  that  I 
hoU  any  party  indabfeed  ta  t 
kav«  aeitksr  claimed  credit 
ekmca  siitilm  to  the  Czar,  nor 
odftefi  to  do  so  in  mj  oaj 
aiMMild  ke  snfficieat.  The 
Kapoleoa  owes  me  w. 
wkife  I  am  dseply  grateful 
Majesty  for  kolding  me  guilt! 
any  intent  to  injure  his  imperia 
son,  I  sincere^  desire  the 
may  be  dropfied.  I  am  heartilj 
of  it" 

Faying  but  little  more  than  p 
impatient  attention  to  this  dtscli 
the  Duke  de  B.  resumed :  — 

**His  Majesty  orders   that  < 

the  continuance  of  your  residei 

Paris,  a  strict  and  careful,  bi 

officious  or  offensive,  guard  shi 

placeil  over  you  at  a  distance,'' 

"  Surveillance,  ray  lord  Dukt 

**  No,  Monsieur ;  protection.** 

"  Protection  ?     What  fur  ?  i^ 

whom  ?  " 

"  The  Poles  of  Paris,  who 
terested  in  Berezowski's  mur 
attack  on  Alexander  II.,  nal 
look  upon  you  as  the  cause 
failure ;  and  our  imperial  det« 
have  discovered  that  an  extrem 
temess  of  feeling  towards  you 
result  It  does  not  yet  appe; 
this  unfriendliness  takes  any  di 
form;  no  threats  have  been 
atid  it  is  possible  you  may  be 
danger  of  bodily  harm.  Ba 
assassin *s  mischance  has  been 
perate  blow  to  these  miserabi 
chief-plotting  exiles,  and  it  t 
sidered  wisest  and  best  to  ant 
the  worst    The  Emperor  thi 


The  PUgrinCa  Tale. 


79 


%d  an  able  and  experienced 
»  aasame  the  character  of 
to  joor  person.  He  is  not 
^  himself  into  jonr  presence, 
J  way  allow  the  nature  of 
ion  to  become  known  to 
[n  the  disguise  of  a  simple 
J  will  follow  you  continually 
.  day,  keeping  such  faithful 
at  the  slightest  indication 
will  be  at  once  apparent, 
only  will  your  perfect  safe- 
:iired,  but  the  conspirators 
js  may  be  secured  through 
and     properly     managed 

in  vain  that  the  pilgrim 
against    this    arrangement, 

his  indifference  to  the  de- 
the  Poles,  his  contempt  of 
om  that  source,  and  his  per- 
y  to  defend  himself  in  case 
The  Duke  de  B.  replied 
every  argument,  that  it  was 
?ror's  will,  and  must  be  car- 
"  Besides,"  continued  his 
s  at  last,  "  you  are  not  alone 
isidered.  Government  has 
■^cts  in  adopting  this  partic- 
•se,  of  which  I  am  not  at 
>  sptrak-*' 

e«i  I  "  exclaimed  the  pilgrim 
firterly :  "then  the  ^  protec- 
hi  j  ^Lijesty  is  not  so  entirely 
sted  afterall,mylord  duke  ?  " 
ighness  smiled  faintly,  gave 
pasm^jdic  shrug  to  his  shoul- 
Isted  his  long,  pointed  mus- 
>wed   gracefully,  and   disap- 

the  pilgrim  had  sufficiently 
i  from  the  effects  of  this  in- 
to lean  out  of  his  window, 
ooked  down  into  the  little 
iboukir,  the  shining  carriage 
^uke  de  B.  was  already  roll- 
ily  away  amid  the  crowd  of 
spectators. 


From  that  hour  the  poor  pilgrim 
had  few  hours  of  perfect  privacy  in 
France.  Many  pleasant,  memorable 
days,  many  gloriously  happy  nights, 
were  his,  never  to  be  forgotten ;  but 
never  again  the  consciousness  of 
being  un watched  and  alone.  Some- 
times for  days  together  the  hateful 
official  shadow  would  remain  invisible, 
however  vigilant ;  but  at  the  opera, 
the  theatre,  or  the  cafe,  on  the  race- 
course, in  the  parks,  the  cathedrals, 
the  palaces,  studios,  museums,  and 
gardens,  and  even  at  the  foot  of  the 
throne,  this  unnecessary  angel  hov- 
ered about  the  person  of  our  irritated 
pilgrinL 

On  one  occasion,  riding  far  out 
on  the  new  Boulevard  Neuilly,  to 
visit  some  American  friends,  it  was 
fondly  believed  the  "  guardian  "  had 
been  temporarily  "  shaken ;  "  but 
imagine  the  pilgrim's  surprise,  on 
emerging  from  his  call,  to  find  the 
simple-faced  driver  he  had  left  on 
entering  replaced  by  the  identical 
watchman  of  the  Baron  de  B.  He 
playe«l  coachman  to  perfection,  driv- 
ing with  promptness  as  directed,  and 
maintaining  dignity  and  reserve. 
But,  on  being  dismissed  at  the  end 
of  the  course,  it  was  observed  that 
he  handed  his  horses  and  vehicle 
over  to  a  gendarme,  and,  with  some 
slight  changes  of  costume,  imme- 
diately became  again  the  idle,  un- 
conscious, but  lynx-eyed  detective. 
"  Bonne  nuit,  Jlofisieur,^^  said  a  mo- 
notonous voice,  whenever  the  pilgrim, 
ab«jut  to  retire,  stood  before  that 
great  barred  door  of  the  Hotel  Cler- 
ment,  which  a  lazy  concierge,  lying 
in  bed  far  away,  oi^>ened  by  the  aid 
of  mysterious  wires  ;  and  "  Bon  jour. 
Monsieur  /  ''  said  the  same  voice, 
when  the  next  day*s  pleasures  were 
inaugurated  by  an  appetizing  stroll 
to  the  Falais  EoyaL    But  the  two 


80 


Up8  and  Jhums. 


seldom  came  neazer  together  than 
this.  The  Poles  did  not  make  any 
demoDStratioD,  and  were  not  likely  to. 
The  pilgrim  wearied  finally  of  Paris, 
marred  for  him  hy  this  apparently 
useless  surveillancef  and  determined 
ultimately  on  a  few  months'  wander- 
ing among  the  grand  old  cities  and 
classic  ruins  of  Germany.  Only  at 
the  Strasburg  railway  station,  when 
actually  carrying  this  determination 
into  effect,  did  he  see  and  hear  the 
last  of  his  faithful  guardian.  Just 
OS  the  traip  was  moving  rapidly  away 
towards  the  east,  that  indefatigable 
servant  of  his  Majesty  presented  him- 
self an  instant  at  the  car  window, 
and,  touching  his  hat,  took  a  brief 
leave  of  his  departing  victim  with, 
'^  Adieuy  Monsieurf^*  and  vanished. 

In  Germany,  and  later  in  Switzer- 
land, relatives  of  the  Czar  were  occa- 
sionally encountered;  but,  whether 
met  at  court  or  on  a  mountain-side, 


they  seemed  Tery  qoicUy  to  beo 
aware  of  the  pilgrim*8  identity  « 
the  party  who  had  served  theb 
perial  master  in  the  Bois  de  Boalq 
and  took  various  methods  of  ozpi 
ing  great  gratitude  for  the 
This  proves  the  circumstance  to  i 
been  no  secret  in  that  quarto^ 
least.  But  the « mystery  of  B^ 
Budberg's  restrictions  was  nevMti 
vealed.  J 

In  August  the  pilgrim  ietam«| 
Paris,  by  invitation,  to  be  preseii 
the  £mperor*s/e^  and  was  delifl 
to  find  that  turveillanee  was 
longer  considered  necessary.  \ 
subject  of  <'The  Csar^s  Escif 
was,  however,  not  revived  in  ofl 
circles;  and  our  American  fi^ 
lived  out  the  remainder  of  a  shoi:f| 
happy  and  eventful  visit,  withont  j 
again  having  his  eqjoyment  dam 
by  the  intervention  of  an  obnoa 
*'  protecting  "  shadow. 


UPS    AND    DOWNS. 


A  NOVEL  IN  THIRTY  CHAPTERS. 


BT  EDWARD   E.    HALE. 


CHAPTER  XIL 

Bertha  Sciiwarz  had  just  entered 
what  was  called  the  schoolroom,  at 
^Irs.  Rosonsteiirs  house  in  Milwaukee. 

**  O  Hortha,  *I  am  so  glad  you 
havo  conio  !  Mayn't  I  string  beads 
whiK*  I  say  my  verb  ?" 

**  Vou  must  not  say  Bertha  to  Miss 
Schwarz." 

**  Who  are  you  7  I  will  say  Bertha, 
if  I  ih<x>so.     Mayn't  I  say  Bertha ? " 

"  Vou  sha'n't  say  Bertha.  If  j-ou 
do,  ril  toll  ma.  Ma  said  we  must 
say  Miss  Schwarz.  Did  not  she, 
Miss  Sohwars  ?  Ma  I  ma  I "  this  last 
an  iK^tuve  higher^  and  ten  fortiseimos 


louder,  '<MaI  ma!     ShaU  Chad 
say  Bertha  ?  " 

Such  was  the  hopeful  and  agree) 
beginning  of  one  morning's  skix 
or  running  fight,  in  the  discha 
Bertha  Sohwarz's  daily  duties, 
a  good  enough  representation  of  % 
day,  as  she  began  it,  with  these  sp 
wildcats.     There  was  nothing  in  I 
mother  that  they  respected,  and  I 
had  no  habit  of  obedience.     But  j 
referred  to  her  ten  times  as  oftn 
children  do  who  have  the  habitj 
obedience   and   of   respect      Blj 
began  with  amazement,  soon  p^ 
through    the    stages  of   terror 


Ups  md  Doums. 


81 


^-5ickIles9,  and  finally  succeeded, 
Dertain  fashion,  in  obtaining  much 
^  inflaence  than  father  or  mother 
had.  Whether  this  did  much 
I,  either  to  herself  or  to  the  chil- 
I.  she  was  not  wholly  sure. 
ha  this  particular  morning,  for  in- 
loe,  she  had  shamed  some  and  en- 
caged others  into  something  like 
or,  and  had  really  succeeded  in 
eresdng  A<lelaide  in  the  geography, 
ich  Adelaide  had  been  carefully 
ined  "  to  hate,"  in  the  methods  of 
[dia's  predecessors. 
'Your  big'  map  the  same  as  my 
le  one  ?  Why,  Miss  Schwarz,  I 
sore  the  little  one  is  big  enough 
me.  I  never  shall  read  all  the 
Bes  on  it.     I  hate  map-questions." 

*  I  am  quite  sure,  Addie,  that  one 
f  you  will  be  asking  your  father  to 
f  you  a  bigger  map  than  mine." 

*  I  never  shall  ask  him  to  buy  me 
r  book  but  a  story-book  as  long  as 
liTe  and  breathe.  I  mean  to  tease 
n  f>r  a  story-book  to-day.  Clem 
anlers  toM  me  of  a  beautiful  book 
r't  rvh-^r  brought  her  from  Buffalo." 
"  But  now.  Adtlie,  we  must  study 
c  g-^'zrapljy.  If  you  never  know 
or  ::--'^raphv.  you  will  never  know 
w:.  zjto  Duffiilo." 

*^  H. :  ?ha  n't  I  ?  I  shall  just  tell 
nUiim  to  take  my  trunks  down  to 
b  Lkti>.  and  then  I  shall  make  him 
m^  me  down  to  the  boat ;  and  I 
bn  g^  on  boanl,  and  I  shall  say  to 
id  Hr.  Plamptre  that  I  must  have 
ht  Tery  best  state-room  he  has  got ; 
•J  he  will  let  me  have  it,  because 
ft  g»:.t  him  his  place  in  the  line ; 
Bd  I  >ball  have  a  beautiful  time  all 
lie  wzy ;  and  when  we  get  there,  old 
It  Plamptre  will  come  and  find  up 
iDmy  tilings,  and  will  get  a  carriage 
fc  m*.  and  I  shall  ride  up  to  Gussie 
Kndtrs'a.  You  shall  go,  too.  Miss 
Uwvz.     You  will  like  it  ever  so 


much  better  than  that  horrid  stage. 

I  don't  see  why  pa  wanted  to  come         - 

that  way."  M 

Bertha  had  not  advanced  matters 
much  by  her  suggestion  of  Buffalo. 
It  was  clear  enough  that  the  little 
goose  had  already  learned  that  there 
were  other  methods  for  achieving  what 
she  wanted  than  the  imperial  road  of 
learning.     Yet  Bertha  began  again. 

"  Don't  you  remember  Trenton  ?  " 

"  Of  course  I  do.  Didn't  we  have 
great  fun  there  ?  Don't  you  ever  tell, 
Miss  Schwarz,  as  long  as  you  live 
and  breathe ;  but  while  ma  and  pa 
and  you  were  sitting  on.  the  piazza, 
after  tea,  with  that  old  Dutchman  and 
his  wife,  Ferd  and  Lotty  and  I  went 
down  to  the  stream  again;  and  we 
began  throwing  rocks,  and  then  we 
made  boats;  and  then  Ferd  took 
off  his  boots,  and  Lotty  and  I  pulled 
off  our  shoes,  and  we  sat  on  the  rocks 
and  paddled  in  the  water  with  our 
feet,  and  Lotty's  shoe  got  all  wet; 
and  we  had  such  fun.  Wouldn't  ma  jA 
scold  if  she  knew  it.  You  won't  tell,  ^ 
Miss  Schwarz,  wdl  you  ?  " 

Bertha  did  not  commit  herself  in 
reply  to  this  amiable  entreaty,  but 
held  on  to  Trenton,  resolved  to  get 
her  geography  lesson  started  if  she 
could. 

"  How  do  3'^ou  suppose  we  ever  got 
to  Trenton  ?  " 

"  I  suppose  —  I  don't  know  —  I 
suppose  pa  bought  a  ticket  to  Trenton 
fi*om  Saratoga, 

"  No." 

"I  suppose  ho  told  the  railroad 
man  that  ma  wanted  to  go  tliere.  I 
know  ^[rs.  Flinders  told  ma  she  must 
go  there,  —  that  was  the  way  ma 
knew  about  it.  O  ^Liss  Schwarz ! 
you  never  saw  anybody  like  !Mrs. 
Flinders." 

"No  matter  about  Mrs.  Flinders. 
That  was  not  the  way  wq  got  to  Tren- 


82 


UpB  and  Downs, 


toD,  Tbe  way  was  tbis :  After  Mrs. 
Flinders  Lad  been  talking  to  your 
mother  at  tlie  United  States,  your 
father  took  out  this  very  map  that  I 
have  got  here,  and  he  looked  for 
Saratof^^a,  and  for  Uticaj  and  for  Tren- 
ton, and  Trenton  Falls;  and  he  found 
them  ail  four,  and  ho  showtjd  them  to 
me.  He  knew  we  could  go  to  Utica 
by  the  railroad.  He  did  not  know, 
and  none  of  us  kne\v%  wbetlier  we  were 
to  go  to  Treuton  when  we  went  to 
Trenton  Falls.  He  found  out  by  this 
» map  \  and  he  showed  nie  and  your 
mother  I  suppose  lie  did  not  show 
you  hecause  you  hate  map-questioua, 
and  those  were  maj>-qu  est  ions/' 

**  I  do  not  see  any  of  them  on  my 
map»"  said  Adelaide.  There  is  no 
greater  minor  comfort  to  a  snubhed 
cliild  at  sehool,  tliau  the  power  to  say, 
**  It  is  not  in  my  book." 

"  ;N'o  ;  Utica  is  on  your  map,  hut 
neither  of  the  T re n tons  are,  iSara- 
toga  ia,  —  there  is  Saratoga.  !N^ow 
see  if  you  can  find  Utica," 

**'  Rome  —  Attica  —  Painted  Post, 
what  a  funny  name  —  Utica,  here's 
Utica,  That's  where  Ferd  upset  the 
custard  \  oh,  how  mad  he  was  !  '* 

**Well,  no  matter  about  Ferd. 
What  we  want  is  Trenton  and  Tren- 
ton Falls.'' 

**They  are  not  in  my  hook,  that's 
certain.  What's  the  use  of  having 
Buch  a  book  ?  *' 

*'Not  much,"  said  Bertha.  *^It  ia 
only  ineant  for  little  children.  Sup- 
pose you  look  on  your  father's  map. 
Bring  that  cushion  hero  and  sit  down 
by  me.  There  ia  Saratoga,  here  is 
the  railroad  "  — 

**  Kailroad  on  a  map  ?  '* 

**  Yes,  on  a  real  map,  —  on  a  large 
map." 

**  Why  I  Look  here,  Ford ;  here  is 
Ballston,  and  here  is  the  lake,  —  don't 
^QU  kuow^  where  we  got  the  pond* 


lilies.      Ferd,   come    here;    here 
Glenn's    Falls,    where   we   saw    thJ 
cave    where  Natty  Bumpo  hid  an^ 
the  two  girls,  — don't  you  kuow,  \ 
Schwarz?    we    read  it   that  m^\ 
Ferd,  see  here  \  here  is  every  sir 
place  w*e  wont  to  from  Saratoga.^* 

*^  Don't  cull  Ferd,  he  is  iearuingli| 
verbs." 

*^  And  here  is  the  canal ;  oTi,  dd 
do  you  rememher  those  children 
the  geese  ?  Here  is  the  railroad,  • 
says  *  Saratoga  and  Schenectady  ] 
road/  just  as  it  did  on  the  great  i 
in    the    hall  of    the    ITnited  Statt 
Then  wo  got  out  at  Schenectady,  _ 
know.      That's    where    we     bou 
oranges  of  tho  blind  man.     Then  ^ 
got  into  the  other  railroad,  and  wont^ 
and    went    to — Albany?     Ko, 
did  not  go  to  Albany.     Wo  had  1 
to    Albany    before.      The     map 
wrong." 

*•  Try  tho  other  way/' 

*'  Other  way  ?  "  said  tho  girl, 
bright  enough,  and    interested 
"  Uh,  yes  !  here  is  Little  Falls,  wl 
I    bou  gilt   the    diamonds.     Herij 
Utica  —  Herkimer- —  Russia,      I  < 
not  know  Bussia  was  near  Utici 
somehow   I    thought   Russia  waa] 
France.      R  u  ss  i  a,     T  ren  to  u  —  Tk 
ton  —  here    is   Trenton, —  and 
is   Trenton   Falls,  and    here   is 
road.     Yes;    there  ia  one  road, 
there  is  one.     How  nice  it  is  to  1 
the  roads  down !    Why  are  they 
on  my  map  ?  '* 

**  Your    map    is     t^jo    small, 
goose,"  said  Ferd,  relaxing  from] 
industry. 

"  Well,  I  daa*t  care ;  I   mea 
make  pa  buy  me  just  such  a  map 
this,  and  I  mean  t^  wnte  down  \ 
towns  we  stopped  at  as  we  caine  i 

So  she  unfolded  the  w^hole  map^ 
New  York  on  the  iloorj   and  be 
Miss  Addie  knew  it  she  had  lea 


Ups  and  Downs. 


83 


map-questions  "  of  the  day, 
Y  more  than  eiren  the  bold 
£er  had  Tentnred  to  suggest. 
ras  not  displeased  with  her 
:ess  in  allying  to  the  side 
the  scholar  who  had  most  in-, 
Q  the  rest  of  the  crew ;  and 
able  to  give  some  personal 
L  to  Master  Ferd's  verb, 
^  schoohxwm  assumed  an  air 
which  was  as  unusual  as  it 
xpected.  But,  in  a  minute 
e  door  was  flung  open,  and 
aenstein  dashed  in,  arrayed 
lest. 

more  stupid  books  to-day," 
.  "  Come,  my  pet ;  come,  Ad- 
le.  Miss  Schwarz ;  the  day  is 
hat  I  am  going  to  take  you 
de !     Put  away  that  horrid 

Adelaide,  and  never  let  me 
[>n  the  floor  again  ! " 

I  go,  ma?"  screamed  Ferd. 
no!  I   can't  take  you;  boys 

a  plague." 

knt  to  go !  "  persisted  Ferd. 
course  you  want  to.  Aren't 
sfied  with  your  lioliday,  that 
t  be  teasing  to  go  to  ride  ? 
play  with  the  other  boys." 
persisted  that  the  other  boys 
at  school,  all  but  Ted  Morris, 
was  only  yesterday  he  had 
Id  nfver  to  play  with  Ted 
Lgain  as  long  as  he  lived, 
n  %o  to  that  dirty,  vulgar 
orriVs,  for  this  once.  But 
>me  home  with  your  clothes 
re»i  with  clay  again,  and  don't 
peat  one  word  you  hear  Ted 
say." 

*ni  won  his  victory,  which  he 
I  op  by  teasing  for  money  to 
rder  with,  and  went  on  his 
lant  way. 

la  asked  Mrs.  Kosenstein  to 
i  have  her  seat  in  the  car^ 
She  would  really  have  been 


glad  to  have  the  time  at  home,  and 
she  said  so.  But  madam  said  no, 
and  took  all  pleasure  from  the  ride 
at  the  same  time  by  giving  a  rea- 
son. 

"  The  ride  would  be  nothing  with- 
out you,"  she  said;  "and  you  must 
not  wear  that  dowdy  old  travelling- 
bonnet,  you  must  have  your  new  hat, 
and  must  look  your  prettiest,  for  I 
am  going  to  call  at  Mrs.  Kounds's, 
and  there  is  no  saying  who  we  shall 
see  there,  my  pretty  Bertha." 

There  was  a  certain  Carl  Rounds, 
a  fine,  manly  fellow,  who  liked  Bertha, 
and  whom  Bertha  liked ;  and  Mrs. 
Bosenstein  had  a  way  of  making  her 
life  miserable  by  showing  her  off  in 
such  fashion  as  this  to  him.  So  they 
took  the  ride.  We  have  no  need  to 
follow  it.  It  all  turned  out  much  as 
you  might  have  expected.  Mrs. 
Rosenstein  had  expected  to  meet 
some  people  whom  she  did  not  meet. 
Mrs.  Rounds  was  not  at  home,  really ; 
but  Mrs.  Rosenstein  chose  to  pretend 
that  she  was  refused  to  her.  The 
two  girls  quarrelled  when  they  sat  on 
opposite  seats,  and  they  quarrelled 
when  they  were  on  the  same  seat. 
"Ma"  steadily  scolded,  and  they 
were  as  steadily  impudent.  Poor 
Bertha  got  it  on  all  hands ;  and  the 
last  words  Mrs.  Rosenstein  said  to 
her,  as  they  all  ran  up  stairs  to  get 
ready  for  a  late  and  cold  dinner,  were 
these : — 

"  If  you  knew  j'^our  place.  Miss 
Schwarz,  you  would  not  speak  till  you 
were  spoken  to,  nor  give  your  advice 
till  it  was  asked  for;"  because  poor 
Bertha,  having  been  bidden  point- 
blank  to  decide  whether  Charlotte  or 
Adelaide  was  to  blame  in  the  ninety- 
ninth  battle-royal  of  the  hour,  had 
pronounced  a  decision  which  hap- 
pened to  traverse  the  mood  their 
mother  was  in  at  the    moment    she 


84 


Up8  and  Downs, 


Ijeard  it  uttered.  Sucli  was  a  fair 
enough  epecimen  of  iiertlia*s  life 
with  the  pupils  iotrusted  to  her 
care. 

If  she  could  only  have  been  left 
alone,  she  used  to  say  to  herself, — 
for  she  never  iiitrusteil  her  griefs  to 
her  father  or  mother,  —  if  sJie  could 
only  have  heen  left  aloae  with  the 
children,  to  make  the  best  of  them 
that  she  knew  how,  slje  wouhl  not 
complain.  But  this  pestering  inter- 
ference, this  hlowing  hot  and  cold^ 
just  when  she  saw  her  crystal  form- 
ing so  that  there  ought  to  be  no 
blowing  from  the  outside  at  all,  —  that 
was  a  grievance  in  deed  !  Ah !  my 
dear  Bertha,  you  will  find  before  you 
have  got  through,  that  what  you  are 
complaining  of  is  not  Mrs.  Iloieen* 
stein's  fiehooli*oom,  it  is  human  life. 
To  do  oue^s  duty  would  be  easy  in  the 
comparison,  if,  as  one  does  it,  he  were 
not  always  pestered  on  the  right  and 
on  the  left  by  the  fools  who  want  to 
help,  the  fools  wlio  want  to  advise, 
the  fools  who  want  to  ask  why,  and 
the  fools  who  want  to  hinder.  In- 
deed, that  is  a  wise  remark  of  Henry 
Kingsley,  that  when  the  Devil 
wishes  to  arrest  any  good  work,  and 
has  failed  to  do  so  by  tlie  agency  of 
people  of  intelligence,  Ixis  next  stop 
is  always  to  enlist  the  unconscious 
service  of  a  fool. 

But  Bertlia  had  plenty  of  pluck. 
She  liud  gone  into  this  matter  with 
her  eyes  open,  and  she  was  not  going 
to  cry  **  Enough/'  or  to  go  out  of  it, 
till  she  hud  fairly  wrought  through 
v,lmt  she  ha<l  started  on.  She  hud 
made  her  bed,  and  she  was  willing  to 
lie  in  it;  though  there  were  more 
burrs  Letw^een  the  sheets  than  she 
liked,  and  also  more  rose-leaves  on 
the  pillows.  Whether  she  liked  Mrs, 
Eusenstein's  flatteries  or  her  scold- 
ing least,  Bertha  hardly  knew.     On 


1 

8ne 


the  whole,  she  thought  8 He 
rather  take  her  chance  wi| 
burrs  than  the  tose-leavea. 

Mr.  Eosenstein,  who  was  e 
ish  in  all  his  family  exjiens 
made   the    mi^^t     generous     s 
ments  for  Bertha's  cjuarterly 
and  they  were  most  promptly 
hen     Whether  he  were  as  hv 
generous  in  his  business,  Berl 
not  know.     What  hid  busine^ 
she  really  did  not  know.     Thi 
an  office  on  the  main  street,  an 
sometimes  stopped  there  in 
Sotnetimes  a  Jewish -looking  ti 
appeared  at  dinner  or  at  teaj 
times   one   spent    the    night   i 
house.      On     such     occasioi 
Rosenstein's  meals  were  even  i 
than  usual ;  and  there  would  be  c 
conclave  in  a  little  end  room,  wi 
was  honored  by  the   name  of 
brary,  because  there  was  a 
with     a     few     bound     volm 
**  Graham's     Magazine  "  the: 
times  J   with   very   Utile  provioua 
nouncement,   Mr.    11  (>sen stein 
be  away  on  business,     Ko 
knew  for  how  long  he  would 
so  he  always  returne<l  iis  un  ex  peel 
ly  as  he  went.     Bertlia  was  aln 
sorry  to  have  him  go;  fort  hoi 
had  but  little  to  say  or  do,  wi 
was    at    home, —  tired    ind' 
rather  tlioughtfulj  perhaps  anxi 
still  he  was  fond  of  the  child 
they   were    fond   of    himj    ho 
how  to  keep  his  wife  in 
slie  was  afi'aid  of  him,  so  that 
tijrior  regimen  of  the  house  weoft 
miii^h  belter  and  more   happii 
it  did  in  his  absence.     Occasii 
on   what   Bertha   called    hid 
days,  he  would  ask  her  to   p: 
him.     He  was  almost  what  mi 
called  a  connoisseur  in  music, 
fond  of  it,  —  had  his  own  tast 
knew  wliat  they  were,  and 


Hn,  wi 

iinifl 
ler^ 

riona' 


rent 
M 


Up9  and  Downs, 


85 


Hr. 


til    ^irtt   and   interest   into 
BertliA  w^as  so  glad  to  play. 
isitli9(M«iid4*iit  of  the  regular 
whioli   fan3«*   to   li^r  from 
tein.,  ^-  h  indeed  at 

had  li.       iiiy  thing  to 

ibe   pnstfenta  of  dress  and 

!i    thai  Udy    toak   the 

iinca    to    give    to    her* 

!a  a  bustoeM  which  waa  to 

d«»gn»e  aanoying  to  Bertha, 

iK:eauDt,  (Uid  in  ii  thousand 

In  the  flfst  f^Jace  ghe  noticed 

CKf    when    she   took   rare    to 

Hottecuitein  as  well  as  his 

^bowjr  dress  iliat  had  heen 

In   her,  he  iras  evidently 

sod,  as  Bertha  felt  sure, 

In    ihii   w?eojid    jdatre,  she 

soofif  that  on  any  turu  of 

V — and  8uoh  turns  came  in 

ttfleo   OS  other  tidea  do, — 

dtawl-pm  or  the  last  bon-bon 

lira.    Bosofistein    had    given 

ann?  to  he  called  up  in 

retrospect    of    hountiea 

Beitb»    kept     all     the^e 

- ;  for  fehe  really 

Light  come  such 

aomiT  d^iy  th^t  she  might 

relnm  them  all  in  one  heap 

igatiozi  discharged^  even   upon 

of  the  given 
haa  M«etiied  best  to  resume  in 
the    meth<xi    of    Bertha's 
life,  that   we  may  throw 
<t  i>Q  the  spirit  with  winch 
conr*erueil    went 
of  Mrs.    Itii^en- 
gitat    triennial   party,  which 
r  late  in  thci  i$pring  al^er  Ber- 
iMiiKi  hwrv^lf  entangleil  in  this 
of  falii^hood,  petty  intrigue, 
and  foUy. 
Idwmaktm  wmm  evim  then,  aa  it  is 
mm,  a  oatfe  of  accompli«hed  and 
m  aodety*      People   of   rare 
em*  there  early  in  ita  exisi- 


iimd 


way 


ence.  Something  in  the  mere  beauty  , 
of  its  situation,  attracted,  by  a  law  of 
natural  selection,  some  noble  families 
among  the  throng  of  those  who  ia 
passing  wei^tward  happ»?ued  to  laml 
in  its  harbor ;  the  enterprise  and  suc- 
cess of  its  founders  gave  life  and 
cheerfulness  to  the  whole,  —  the  fresh- 
ness of  all  Western  life  ha*l  an 
op[K>rtunity  to  show  itself,  —  and  a 
mijtture  singularly  happy,  of  different 
races  of  men,  gave  to  mutual  inter- 
course a  charm  which  old  and  estab- 
lished communities  cannot  know. 
Into  the  midst  of  such  society,  which 
was  not  in  the  least  pretentious  or 
reserved  in  its  ways,  Mrs.  Kosenstein 
Aung  herself;  and  either  thought,  or 
pretended  «he  thought,  tliat  swagger 
and  presumption,  diamonds  and  paste, 
showy  dress  and  more  showy  dancing, 
were  going  either  to  astonish  or  to 
charm.  She  acted  as  if,  in  the 
unsellish,  unpretending,  liigh-toued 
social  order  of  the  little  town,  a  dxA* 
ish,  false,  petulant  woman  like  her- 
self would  be  received  as  an  article 
of  elegance,  and  in  some  sort  feared 
and  courted,  as  she  hud  been  taught 
by  very  foolish  novels  tliat  Isidies  of 
fashion  were  feared  and  courted  in 
London  and  in  Paris.  The  assump- 
tion and  the  ambition  were  to  the  last 
degree  absurd  in  a  wide-awake,  honest 
Western  town,  which  did  not  count 
twelve  years  from  its  log-cabins, 
nor  number  in  all  fifteen  thousand 
people.  But  aWurdity  never  put 
any  limit  to  any  of  Mrs.  liosenstein's 
schemes. 

All  through  the  winter*  therefore, 
to  Bertha's  dismay,  to  the  amusement 
of  people  of  sense,  to  the  amazement 
of  everybo<ly,  Mrs,  liosenstein  was 
talking  about  the  party  she  was  going 
to  give.  In  the  midiit  of  sociables 
and  hops  and  cotillon  parties  and  old- 
fashioned    tea-fights,   she    would   be 


{ 


86 


Vp^  and  DowM. 


Uean)  Ulking  about  her  ball  The 
joung  men  made  a  joke  of  it,  the 
girk  tore  to  pieces  the  programme  of 
it  ia  their  private  talks,  the  judicious 
gneved  to  see  anjbodj,  no  matter 
who,  make  herself  su^  a  fooL  Kooe 
the  less  did  Mrs.  Rosensteia  blow  her 
owa  trumpet  .  Atid«  bertause  time  is 
pil]]ea%  at  la^t  the  part^r  came. 

No,  I  am  not  to  describe  the  vari- 
ous pretensions  or  th«t  various  pieces 
of  solid  sense  which  went  to  its  com- 
poeition.  Not  even  as  aeromplii»hed 
a  fool  as  the  hostess  could  make  of 
tuch  a  partj  a  failure.  For,  of  a 
town  of  the  size  Mtl\^'aukee  was  then^ 
the  glory  i%  that  it  has  better  oppor- 
tunities for  social  intercourse  tlian  it 
will  ever  have  again.  It  is  large 
enough y  and  not  too  large.  Wlioever 
is  bright  or  agree  able  or  we  II -informed, 
^riioever  pleases  in  societj,  for  what- 
ever reason,  corner  forward  and  is 
known,  — e^peciallr  if  you  ha%e  that 
perfect  institution  for  mutual  acquaint- 
ance and  intnxluctiou,  the  public 
BchooL  If  ^[rs.  Rosenstein  had  meant 
to  be  e^cclusive  she  could  not  have 
l)cen«  She  could  not  have  drawn  her 
]in«L\  like  Mtss  Austen's  hero^  so  as 
to  include  as  gentle-folks  only  tho»e 
who  ^xlo  in  gigs.  She  could  not 
have  drawn  it^  like  Mrs.  Sherman's 
serrant^ao  aa  to  include  only  those 
who  drank  wine  and  swore.  She 
could  not  draw  it  anywhere  in  the 
fresh  fretnlom  of  the  new-bom  city. 
To  give  her  her  due,  she  did  not  want 
to  draw  it  anywhere*  Her  house 
was  large,  her  garden  was  pretty,  al- 
most the  only  garden  in  the  town  in- 
deed, and  the  more  people  she  could 
get  together  the  better.  She  was  by 
no  means  particular. 

Our  only  busine^  with  the  party 
is  with  Bertha's  ups  and  downs  in  it ; 
nor  can  we  give  all  of  theee*  If  the 
full  fortunes  of  a  young  girl  at  her 


first  party  were  fairly   written 
from   the   beginning  to  tlie 
she  might  relate  them  to  her 
bosom  friend,  they  would  fill  the 
volume  novel  of  antiquity  to 
page. 

As  to  dress,  hnrdly  a 
Yet  dress  cost  Bertha  terrible 
Should    she    wear    the    frock 
Rosenstein  had  given  her  ouly 
months  before,  which  ha<l  never 
but  one  appearance  ?     Of  coa 
would  have  worn  it^  had  she  no! 
absolutely  sure   from  sometlnn 
Rosenstein  had  looked  and  not 
that  the  dress  had  been  the  cai 
a  regular  quarrel  between  hlmi 
madam.     Should  she  wear  some 
ornaments    which     Mrs.    Rosei 
had  pressed  on  her  on  her  bl 
She  hated  the  ornaments  for 
selves,  for  they  were  by  no  m< 
her  style.     Yet  not  to  wear  the 
of  course  marked  ;  anil,  if  she  di 
wear  the  frock,  ought  she  not 
the  jewels  ?     Lastly*  were  the 
jewels?     or  were  they  of  that 
make    which,   or    the   susptci 
which,  vitiated  nearly  every  tb 
the  Bosenstein  establiii^hmeut? 

"  It  is  so  hard/^  said  fjoor 
to  herself.     **  If   1  only  knew 
was  right,  I  would  do  it,  pf 
it    raight,^      She    had    never 
«  The  New  Timon,"  but  she  haJl 
her  Bible ;  and  though  she  dii 
believe  that 

'*  Ho  cuti*!  be  wrong  who  but  denies 
she   did  know,  that,  if  she  sel 
self   quite   in    the    backgroun" 
chance  of  deciding  right  woi 
better,     "First,  then,"  she 
will  not   wear  the  silk  dress; 
know  Mrs,  Rosenstein  ought  nol 
given  it,     I  will  wear  the  ornam 
because  I  am  not  quite  sure  whetl 
I  hate  them   because  they  look 
ftuy,  or  beoatiae  abe  gave  them  toU 


TTps  and  Dotons. 


87 


how  I  look ;  but  it  is  mat- 
shall  not  bring  one  more 
•ntention  into  the  party." 
.  every  thing  out,  sure  to  be 
ress,  and  then  went  to  help 
ind  Adelaide  in  their  prep- 

not  come  to  either  of  them 
'  was  needed.  Charlotte 
rs  on  the  floor.  Adelaide 
^  up  and  down  her  room  in 
leshalnlle.  It  needed  all 
act  to  soothe  the  one  and 
lend  the  other.  Charlotte/ 
was  brought  to  terms  soon- 
[aide  was  fairly  enraged  at 
»  injustice  of  her  mother, 
3g  given  her  a  beautiful  set 
9chen  they  were  last  in  New 
which  Adelaide  had  relied 
lettey  had  coolly  come  in  just 
say  she  believed  she  would 
n  herself^  and  had  carried 
ly.  Adelaide  declared  she 
stand  it,  and  that  she  would 
the  party  at  all.  With  her 
lail  to  labor  indeed.  Nor 
have  succeeded,  but  that  a 
'piration  sent  her  across*  to 
room  from  which  she  re- 
th  the  pearls  —  were  they 
odib,  were  they  from  Home, 
£ed  not — which  Mrs.  Rosen- 
given  to  her.  She  begged 
to  wear  them,  argued  to 
thev  were  more  becoming 
scolded  her,  coaxed*  her, 
)  her  at  last,  that,  if  she 
a,  everybody  would  be  satis- 
all  would  be  well.  And 
iressed  Adelaide's  hair  with 
rsel£  And  whether  they 
Is  or  were  Roman  imitations, 
avid  suspect  them  in  Miss 
n's  costume.  With  the 
it  might  have  been  another 

Bertha   dressed    Charlotte. 


The  first  carriage  was  already  at  the 
door;  but  she  flew  back,  Cinderella  that 
she  was,  and  had  so  many  fairies  at  her 
command  that  she  was  soon  ready  to 
run  down  herself.  Really  only  afew 
of  those  desperate  people  who  always 
come  so  early  that  it  is  impossible  for 
them  to  enjoy  any  thing  had  come. 
Still,  Mrs.  Rosenstein  had  a  chance 
to  look  disapproval  upon  Bertha,  and 
to  say,  '^  Always  a  little  behind  time, 
my  dear,"  which  was  an  out-and-out 
lie.  But  Mr.  Rosenstein  was  cordial, 
and  looked  pleased,  as  anybody  might 
who  saw  such  a  fresh,  cheerful,  un- 
conscious girl,  all  ready  to  be  happy. 

For  Bertha  had  been  used,  when 
there  was  a  hop  or  a  dance,  to  be 
chained  to  the  music-stool,  and  to 
hammer  out  waltzes  and  polkas  and 
quadrilles  for  the  others.  Or,  if  some 
saint  9ame  to  relieve  her,  it  always 
happened  that  this  saint  was  better 
trained  in  the  music  of  the  spheres 
than  in  that  of  human  harmony  and 
melody,  so  that  Bertha  went  almost 
crazy  as  she  danced  to  hear  such 
ruin  of  time  and  tune.  But  to-night 
there  was  a  clever  little  band,  such  as 
Milwaukee  could  produce  more  easily 
than  most  cities  thrice  its  size,  and 
Bertha  was  to  be  foot-free  if  anybody 
chose  to  dance  with  her. 

If !  to  be  sure.  What  an  unneces- 
sary affectation  was  that,  Borcha! 
Here  were  young  Gilmore  and  Fiske, 
Harry  Burton  and  Will f am  Wallace, 
Carl  Rounds  of  course,  and  I  know 
not  how  many  other  nice  boys,  and 
young  men  who  would  not  like  to 
hear  me  call  them  boys,  only  too  eager 
to  get  promise  of  the  first  dance,  or 
the  second,  or  the  third.  Yes  ;  and 
for  a  brilliant  hour  our  pretty  Bertha 
forgot  the  burden  she  had  carried  all 
day,  and  forgot  there  would  be  any 
burden  to-morrow,  in  the  simple  and 
pure  joy  of  dancing  to  miyie  well- 


Ups  and  Downs. 


nigh  perfect  for  its  purpose,  witli 
partners  who  were  started  into  some 
life,  thougli  they  were  all  Americans, 
hy  the  genuine  enjoyment  aiKl  entbu- 
fiia«^iu  of  this  unspoiled  Gernian-girh 
Onc;e  ehe  ran  out  of  the  room  to  catch 
Ferdiuiind  and  to  fix  his  neck -tic, 
Onre  iiht^  caught  Theresa,  who  was 
retiring  in  a  sulk  hecayse  something 
ha«i  gone  amiss,  and  re&tored  sun- 
shine there.  But  these  were  only 
ripples  ou  the  stream.  For  the  hour 
tlie  stream  flowed  with  pure  and 
comph^te  enjoyment,  whicli  slio  was 
too  true  and  too  young  even  to  wonder 
at  or  to  analyze. 

At  last  there  came  a  waltz.  There 
hat  I  he  en  no  waltzing  before.  And 
for  this*  waltz  Bertha  had  engaged 
Lefdelf  to  Carl  liounds.  She  con- 
fessed to  herself  that  she  did  it  with 
terrur.  as  well  &he  might.  She  liked 
Carl  lv.>unds;  she  liked  to  talk  wuth 
bim,  and  wiiA  always  glad  to  meet 
him*  But  it  did  not  follow  that  lie 
could  waltz,  far  Jess  that  he  could 
wahz  well.  And  Bertha,  with  her  old- 
country  memories,  dreaded  the  idea 
of  a  hat  tie- royal  on  the  floor,  till  he 
tshould  he  gradually  persuaded  that 
they  had  waltzed  enough  so  that  she 
might  stop  with  decency.  And  this 
had  heen  her  experieiiee  thus  far  in 
life,  in  Ameriean  waltzing.  If  only 
it  could  have  been  a  quadrille  with 
Carl  Hounds,  and  a  waltz  with 
William  Wallace,  for  whom  nhe  did 
not  care  a  straw!  But  one  cannot 
have  every  thing.  Bertha  !  Ko  !  The 
moment  came.  The  band  struck  up 
a  ravishing  Strauss.  Mrs.  Rosen  stein 
sailed  in  with  a  mustached  man, 
lit* member  that  in  those  days  a  mus* 
tacho  was  a  rarity.  Then  came 
Carl  Rounds,  "This  is  my  dance, 
I  think,  Miss  Schwarz.'* 

Yes,  it  was;  and  Bertha  looked  up 
and  smUed^  uot  let  him  know  how 


she  dreaded  the  experiment 
need  she.  An  instant  more, 
she  knew  she  was  a  fooL 
Rounds  waltzed  as  well  as  she  • 
as  well  as  he  rowed  or  as  be  skatij 
as  he  talked.  How  ditl  it  hap 
I*msure  I  don't knovv  how  it  haf 
Only  it  did  happen.  And  the 
was  more  ravishing  and  more- 
Bertha  even  forgot  she  was  a  I 
and  was  able  completely  to  enter! 
the  spirit  of  the  whole.  I  do  not 
that  she  forgot  where  she  was, 
she  did  not  remember  —  Bertha 
not  often  remember  —  that 
people  were  looking  on. 

1  have  done  a  good  deal  of  lot 
^on   wliile  waltzing  was    in  progn 
I  have  noted  three  varieties  of 
ers.     1.  Those  to  whom  the  bu 
is  a  hard  and  painful  nece9sit]f|| 
which    tliey  were   pre-ordained 
commanded,    and     which     must  J 
fulhlled.      About    nineteen    oti 
twenty   of    the   waltising   couple 
have  seen,  served  their  generation  1 
this  variety  of  service,  sad,  serio 
and  sorry,  but  brave.     2.  There 
those  to  whom  the  dance  is  a  tine  i 
who  enter  upon    it   as   artists, 
to  carry  out  perfectly  a  system 
vention,  which,  because  it  is  et 
in  society,  it  is  well  for  them  ta| 
tain  absolutely  well     These 
do  nqt  have  the  agonized  look 
first    class;   they   are    pleased 
themselves,  which  is  something 
they  are  worth  study,  as  illusfe 
one   more  form  of  harmony  oi 
action.     The  third  variety  —  i 
Germans  by  nationality  —  are  [ 
who   are    thoroughly  happy,   ufl 
scions,  and  at  ease    as    they 
They  dance  as  the  thistle-down  I 
which  we  boya  used  to  call  a 
When  you  see  their  unconsciotl 
and  really  childish  simplicity  ij 
matter^  it  is  hard  to  frown  at  wait 


Ups  and  Dcwnt. 


89 


ay  it  is  all  wrong.  Sach  a 
ere  Bertha  and  Carl  Rounds. 
y^  go  to  a  hundred  balls  to 
ikes  and  not  see  snch  another. 
\  sU^iped  at  last,  not  be- 
icli    dancing  tired   her,   but 

Carl  Rounds  himself  told 
:  ererybody  else  had  stopped, 

was  ashamed  to  go  on.  She 
and  rested  on  his  arm,  and 
I  to  task  for  letting  her  go 
Hig ;  and  he  said,  of  coarse, 

had  no  reason  for  arresting 
en  a  smart  tap  from  Mrs. 
ein  called  her  to  turn  ronnd. 
it  will  do  for  one  night,  Miss 
e;  joq  have  danced  quite  as 
I  is  at  all  proper  I "  ' 

poor  Bertha  was  left  to  think 
1  disgraced  herself  While 
:h  wjas,  that  Mrs.  Bosenstein, 
lued  herself  greatly  on  her 
Itzing,  was  mad  with  jealousy 
iKtty  giri*s  success,  and  did 
re  how  she  put  her  down, 
ling  in  her  eye  was  worse  than 
ing  in  her  yoice.  Bertha 
t  she  had  made  an  enemy 
And     she    was     not     far 

Rounds  was  mad  enough  to 
truck  the  old  woman,  as  he 
her,  the  next  morning.  But 
jei  of  society  forbade.  Bertha 
refuse  herself  to  Harry  Burton 
lis  dance  came,  —  that  made 
ad  also.  Carl  had  to  dance 
le  Crehore,  as  the  boys  called 
at  made  him  more  mad,  and 


Bertha  ran  up  to  her  room  to  have  a 
cry. 

But  she  did  not  have  it  I  believe 
it  was  as  simple  a  thing  as  a  pair  of 
scissors  that  had  been  her  mother's, 
that  saved  her.  She  saw  them  on 
her  dressing-table,  and  remembered 
why  she  was  in  that  house  at  all, 
and  asked  a  Power  stronger  than 
herself  to  carry  her  through,  and  ran 
down  again,  ^Imost  happy.  They 
were  going  in  to  supper.  Bertha 
was  about  to  follow  the  train  without 
escort,  when  Carl  Rounds  came  up. 

^  May  I  hand  you  to  supper  ? ''  he  said. 
And  on  the  stairs,  ^  I  took  the  liber- 
'ty  to  make  your  peace  with  Burtdn. 
Would  you  be  kind  enough  to  speak 
to  him  when  you  can  ? ''  And  then, 
^  Shall  I  give  you  water  —  ice,  or 
vanilla?''  And  when  he  returned 
from  the  table,  he  was  leading  a 
young  gentleman  to  her. 

'^  May  I  introduce  to  you  a  friend 
of  mine.  Miss  Schwarz,  who  is  quite 
a  stranger  here  ?  this  is  Mr.  Jasper 
Rising." 

Bertha  did  not  need  to  be  told  that. 
But  Jasper  did  not  catch  her  name, 
and  for  an  instant  could  not  fix  her, 
could  not  remember  where  he  had 
seen  her.  She  enjoyed  hb  uneasy 
self-questioning  for  a  moment,  and 
then  laughed  and  said,  in  Grerman, 
"  I  am  sorry  you  forget  me,  Mr.  Ris- 
ing,—  could  you  bring  me  another 
glass  of  water?" 

<'  Oh !  it  is  yon,"  said  Jasper.  And 
they  laughed  heartily. 


# 


90  «  The  mUs  of  the  Lord:' 

"THE  HILLS  OF  THE  LOED/' 

BY  WILLIAM   C.   GAIfNETT. 

God  ploughed  one  day  with  an  earthquake^ 
And  drove  his  furrows  deep ! 

The  huddling  plains  upstarted, 
The  hilb  were  all  aleap ! 

But  that  is  the  mountains'  secret^ 
Age  hidden  in  their  hreast ; 

"  Grod's  peace  is  everlasting," 
Arg  the  dream-words  of  their  rest. 

He  hath  made  them  the  haunt  of  beautyi 
The  home  elect  of  his  grace ; 

He  spreadeth  his  mornings  on  thenii 
His  sunsets  light  their  face. 

His  thunders  tread  in  music 

Of  footfalls  echoing  long, 
And  carry  majestic  greeting 

Around  the  silent  throng. 

His  winds  bring  messages  to  them,  — 
Wild  stonn-news  from  the  main; 

They  sing  it  down  to  the  valleys 
In  the  love-song  of  the  rain. 

Green  tribes  from  far  come  trooping, 
And  over  the  uplands  flock ; 

Ho  hath  woven  tlie  zones  together 
As  a  robo  for  his  risen  rock. 

Thov  an>  nurseries  for  young  rivers, 

Nosts  for  his  flying  cloud, 
llotuosteads  for  new-born  races, 

Mtuiterful,  free,  and  proud. 

The  ]>eoplo  of  tried  cities 

C^^mv'  up  to  their  shrines  and  pray ; 

God  fn^shens  again  within  them, 
As  ho  passes  by  all  day. 

And  lo,  I  have  caught  their  secret  I 
The  beauty  deeper  than  all ! 

This  faith,  —  that  Life's  hard  moments, 
When  the  jarring  sorrows  befall, 

Arc  but  God  ploughing  his  mountains ; 

And  those  mountains  yet  shall  be 
Tlio  source  of  his  grace  and  freshness, 
And  his  peace  everlasting  to  me. 
Whitefield,  N  JQL.,  1870. 


Si)e  €xamxntr. 


lould  be  glad  to  open  our  fifth  volume  of  monthly  briticism 
careful  review^  of  the  methods  and  purposes  of  the  periodical 
of  criticism,  on  which  the  world  most  relies,  and  to  which  it 
adebted.  That  task,  however,  is  quite  too  wide  to  be  under- 
» w.  Nor  can  we  even  attempt,  what  would  fairly  come  into  a 
ar^s  number,  an  examination  of  the  new  journals  of  the  last 
dch  have  come  into  existence  since  our  own  was  bom. 
)6erve  with  satisfaction,  —  as  another  indication  that  we  rightly 
the  duty  of  the  monthly  journals,  —  that  the  American  maga- 
hether  recent  or  of  older  date,  give  more  and  more  attention 
riticism  of  books.  We  have  not  observed  that  any  journal 
much  space  to  it  as  our  own ;  but  we  have  no  doubt  we 
id  followers  in. a  determination  which  we  are  sure  is  well- 
..  We  cannot  but  be  gratified,  also,  to  see  that  something 
?nt  to  our  "  Record  of  Progress  " — an  attempt  to  show  in  brief 
advance  of  the  world  in  science,  society,  law,  and  politics — is 
isi  Jered  necessary  in  every  American  journal  of  reputation, 
oreign  reviews,  the  history  of  the  chief,  par  excellence^  the 
I  and  fearless  "  Revue  des  Deux  Mondes,"  has  been  in  this  year 
itical.  Its  end  was  ordered  by  the  Commune.  But  the  fated 
line  "  passed,  and  lo,  it  was  the  "  Revue  "  that  lived,  and  the 
me  that  died.  We  render  our  best  New- Year's  wishes  for  the 
ity  of  the  chief  of  the  republic  of  journalism, 
igland,  among  the  new  ventures,  "  The  Dark  Blue,"  the  repre- 
re  of  Oxford,  on  a  plan  not  dissimilar  to  our  own,  has  perhaps 
most  attention.  We  are  at  too  great  a  distance  to  judge  of 
rhaps  its  first  ambition  is  to  interest  Oxford  men. 
may  surprise  some  readers  now  ;  but  five  years  hence  our 
vill,  we  trust,  be  confirmed,  when  we  say  that  in  America  the 
imal  of  the  year  for  which  and  from  which  we  have  most 
;  one  not  destined  for  what  please  to  call  themselves  the  liter- 
ses.   In  truth,  there  are  no  special  literary  classes  in  America. 


ai 


92 


TTie  Examiner. 


f 


**  The  Southern  Workman,"  just  now  established  at  HamptoiJ 
expeota  to  he  read,  not  by  'the  clo^-ecl  and  satiated  wliite  I 
who  does  not  know  what  to  do  witli  his  news{aperg  or  magazinJ 
by  tlie  black  men  and  women  and  children,  to  whom  reading  iJ 
a  luxury,  and  who  know  as  little  of  literature  as  Cadmus  knew.  I 
editor  id  Gcu»  Armstrong,  He  was  born  in  the  midst  of  a  racj 
had  just  been  called  from  barbarism,  by  such  distin^utsbed  Id 
as  his  father,  one  of  the  earlier  missionaries  in  the  Sandwich  Isfl 
In  the  command  of  ne^o  troops,  who  never  failed  to  follow  J 
he  never  failed  to  lead,  Gen.  Armstrong  showed  that  he  had  lei 
how  to  deiil  with  the  colored  race  in  a  fit  school.  Since  the  wJ 
the  head  of  the  Hampton  Institute,  he  has  been  training  their  J 
men  and  women  to  be  teachers.  And  now,  as  a  part  of  his  J 
prise,  he  undertakes  the  monthly  journal,  which  with  picture,! 
Btory,  and  lesson  is  to  address  specifically  tlie  men  and  woma 
whom  the  prosperity  of  half  America  for  the  next  genemiiodl 
pends.  I 

Nu  one  of  the  year's  enterprises  in  journalism  can  challenge  I 
parison  for  importance  with  one  which  has  a  purpose  so  profouJ 

this,  I 

For  the  magazines  of  the  United  States,  the  past  year  has  bel 
the  whole  somewhat  monotonous*  Periodicals  increase  in  nia 
and  in  inilueuce,  and  are  likely  to  continue  to  do  so ;  and  among  I 
the  monthly  literary  magazines  have  a  very  fUstinct  position  and  J 
The  progress  of  publication  in  point  of  frequency  of  utterancJ 
been  a  long  one.  It  began  with  the  single  manuscript,  the  woJ 
years,  unique,  multiplied  only  by  repetitions  of  equally  painful 
Next  came  the  professional  work  of  hired  scribes,  or  of  slaves*  J 
muuks  I  then  the  editions  of  two  hundred  and  fifty,  then  thought  1 
mous,  and,  in  fact,  often  excessive,  of  the  first  century  of  prini 
and  so  on,  through  folios,  quartos,  octavos,  duodecimos,  pampB 
annuals,  quarterlies,  monthlies,  weeklies,  dailies,  until  the  '*  editiJ 
of  our  great  uewspapei-s  have  actually  brought  us  into  the  esl 
the  hourly  press.  It  need  surprise  nobody  to  see  the  next  J 
typical  *^  enterprising  journalist  *'  establishing  a  periodical  whosel 
cessive  issue  shall  appear  punctually  every  hour,  twent^'-four  tiiJ 
day,  without  any  intermission  for  nights,  Sundays,  or  holiday's,  i 
first  will  fail,  as  the  first  penny  paper  did;  but  the  second  or  m 
will  make  a  great  fortune  and  a  great  reputation.  ] 

Midway  in  this  lino  stands  Iho  *^  monthly  mag<iiune,*^  equidil 
from  the  massive  untimeliuoisd  of  a  bookt  and  the  cru^e  and  ram 


The  Life  of  Christ 


93 


th  Tehich  the  daily  editor,  a  potentate  as  swift  and  stern  as 
:k  I>ouglas  in  "  The  Fair  Maid  of  Perth,"  must  pass  judg- 
the  news,  and  find  out  whether  it  was  deserved,  after  execu- 
one.  There  is  time  enough  in  a  monthly  publication  to  ascer- 
course  of  events,  and  not  enough  to  lose  interest  in  it ;  to 
polities  for  a  *"  Record  of  Progress,"  and  to  condense  and  state 
o  do  approximate  justice  to  sound  and  careful  thought,  in  de- 
fiair  expression. 

lave  left  ourselves  no  space  to  discuss  the  book  literature  of 
r.  But  we  trust  that  the  omission  will  not  be  a  deadly  one  to 
ho  have  read  **  The  Examiner." 

-  Oar  oodee  of  Rer.  James  Freeman  Clarke's  "  Ten  Great  Religions  "  is  again  anavoldably 
thoagh  In  ty^w.  We  append  in  this  place  Dr.  Clarke's  translation  of  *'  The  Hymn  of  Cle- 
hich  oar  readers  will  be  glad  to  compare  with  Dr.  Beecber's  version  in  his  article  in  this 
id  witli  the  original  Greek. 


imCS  OF  CLKANTHE8. 

ra>  BT  urr.  james  pkbeman  clarke. 

'  of  the  leods.  God  with  nutny  names, 

ever  roiiog,  and  ruling  all  things ! 

la  of  DAtare,  guvemlng  the  universe  by 

f<fT  it  \m  right  for  mortals  to  address  thee ; 
\rii  thy  oflbpring,  and  we  alone  of  all 
and  creep  on  earth  have  the  power  of 
alive  speech. 

will  I  praise  thee,  and  hynm  forever  thy 
■er. 
ride  besven,  which  sorronnds  the  earth, 

where  ihon  wilt,  willingly  obeying  thy 

lert  at  thy  service,  in  thy  mighty  hands, 

Edge*!   flaming,  immortal  thunderbolt, 

K«se  flash  all  nature  trembles. 

e*t  in   the  common  rea!»on,  which  goes 

>SLgfa  all, 

ban  minted  in  all  things,  groat  or  small ; 

ilh&g  all  natorv.  is  king  of  all  existences. 

KWt  thee.  O  l>eity !   docs  any  thing  hap- 

\  ia  the  world, 


From  the  divine  ethereal  pole  to  the  great  ocean, 
Except  only  the  evil  preferred  by  the  senseless 

wicked. 
But  thou  also  art  able  to  bring  to  order  that  which 

is  chaotic, 
Giving  form  to  what  is  formless,  and  making  the 

discordant  friendly ; 
So  reducing  all  variety  to  unity,  and  even  making 

good  out  of  evil. 
Thus,  through  all  nature  is  one  great  law, 
Which  only  the  wicked  seek  to  disobey,  — 
Poor  fools  I  who  long  for  happiness, 
But  will  not  see  nor  hear  the  divine  commands. 

But  do  thou,  O  Zeus,  all-bestower,  cloud-compel- 
ler, 

Ruler  of  thunder  I  guard  men  from  sad  error. 

Father,  dispel  the  clouds  of  the  aouI,  und  let  us 
follow 

The  laws  of  thy  great  and  just  reign. 

That  we  may  be  honored,  let  us  honor  thee  agnln ; 

Chanting  thy  great  deeds,  as  is  proper  fjr  mor- 
tals. 

For  nothing  can  be  better  for  gods  or  men 

Than  to  adore  with  perpetual  hymns  the  law  com- 
mon to  all. 


THE  LIFE    OF   CHRIST. 

n  elegant  form,  with  illustra- 
nc^st  of  which  really  illustrate, 
^t  Tolame  of  Mr.  Henry  Ward 
Ts  long-promised  "Life  of 
the  Christ,"  has  appeared,  and 
raJy   in    the   hands   of    many 


et  Jems  the  Christ.    By  Henry  Ward 
Sew  York :  T.  B.  Ford  &  Co. 


We  must  take  another  opportunity 
to  speak  in  some  detail  of  its  excel- 
lencies and  of  its  deficiencies.  It  is  a 
book  which  has  made,  and  will  make, 
its  way  to  thousands  of  hearts  ;  has 
become,  and  will  become,  a  favorite 
book  of  devotion,  a  quickener  of  the 
inner  life.  From  the  first  page  to 
the  last,  the  reader  knows  and  feels 
the  enthusiasm  of  the  author  for  his 


94  TheL^eof  CkriaL 


sabjeet;  and  Am  aagMtinii  of  &e  Smoor '^madeliiiiisdf  of  noi 

aathor,  and  the  intniBtj  of  hk  en-  turn ; "  and  that  is  the  xeaeon  t 

thiuiasm,  lead  the  reader  eageriy  on.  is  a  Savioiir.     His  mowage  w 

Bat    when   all    is  finithfdj  when  important ;  he  said  himself  th 

the  reader  asks  himself  if  Jcsos  the  messenger  was  as  nothing.     ^] 

Christ  is  a  mote  real  person  to  him  die,"  he  said,  ^'so  only  joa Kts 

than  he  was  before^  if  his  methods  or  the  Son  be  forgotten,  so  only  y 

his  motires  are  more  clear,  if  the  be-  the  Father,  and  come  to  the  Fi 

ginning  of  his  life  is  more  separate  In  whatever  way,  by  whatever 

from  the  middle,  or  if  the  causes  of  ing,  to  bring  us  so  near  to  God  t 

his  movements  stand  oat  any  more  might  know  God  to  be  dose  to 

cleariy  in  memory,  he  is  obliged  to  that  was  his  hope,  wish,  prayer 

say,   '*  No."    If   the  book  is  to  be  duty,  and  determination.    We 

judged  as  any  other  biography   is  never  know  him,  he  said,  till  w 

judged,  if  its  purpose  be  to  make  the  to  know  how  close  we  were  t 

events  in  the  Saviour's  life  appear  and  Qui  to  us.     Then  perhi 

more  real,  that  they  may  take  a  place  might  understand  him. 

more  distinct  in  men's  memories  of  Just  as  we  are  all  studyii 

tlie  world's  history,  this  book  has  not  discussing  this  Life  of  Christ 

achieved  a  greater  success  than  Jere-  most  distinguished  preacher  of . 

my  Taylor's  '^  Life  of  Christ,"  than  ca,  the  most  distinguished  po 

tlie  mythical  Fleetwood's,  or  the  criti-  his  offeriug  on  the  same  altar.' 

cal  Neandcr's.  Longfellow  has  published  a  dl 

Without  now  attempting  criticism  poem,  which  he  calls  ''The 

in  (l«ftail,  we  are  tempted  to  say,  that  Tragedy; "  in  which  he  presej 

Mr.  lUiocher  would  have  gained  more  leading  incidents  of  the  Savioi 

in  <liKti net  presentation  of  his  subject,  with  that    sharp   distinctness 

if  he  would  have  studied  the  methods  belongs   to   the    drama,   whei 

of   hJirnvtive  more,  and  those  of  ex-  drama  does  its  duty,  and  wi 

liortation  less.     Have  wo  not  aright  illustrations  to  the  narrative 

to  u^U  that  in  presenting  the  life  of  only  a  poet  can  supply,  and  w 

Christ,  as  in  presenting  any  other  life,  critic  always  misses.     There  ii 

vntisriuUance,  reality,  shall  be  made  wider  contrast  in  the  world,  thi 

u  |)ri me  object?     Is  not  the  one  rea-  between  a    true  poet  and   a 

noi)  lor  writing  such  a  book,  to  call  critic. 

ihi'Snvioiir's  person  out  from  the  mist  With  the  delicacy   and  rei 

\\\\w\\   enshrouds   it,  —  which   makes  which  belong  to  his  whole  natu 

Imiii  to  most  persons,  as  Dr.  Furness  Longfellow  has  refused  to  add 

.  .»>  X  MtMll.v,  the  most  unreal  being  in  word  to  the  words  of  Christ,  % 

\\\  ii,irv  V    Mr.  IJeecher  fails  in  giving  are  reconled  hy  one  or  another 

(lii>  reality,  precisely  because  of  his  gelist.     Ho  has,  of  course,  gii 

i».\»  »»uro  lor  his  subject.     His  deter-  view  of  Christ.     But  he  has  n 

lut^.^iion  to  make  the  Saviour  to  bo  mitted  himself  to  change  or  to  < 

\W^\,  •«(  \\\\  hazanls,  conii)els  him  to  the  Saviour  s  language.    Hehai 

\*\\\\i\  \\\\\\  into  every  scene  as  if  he  his  own  view  of  the  other  chs 

^^vn'  i^iaevting  his  own  authority, —  of  the  drama,  as  of  Mary  Mag 

t    \\^\\^  A  his  own  claim,  and  defining 

:                        ...            XT         •     *.     *.i     ^u  *  The  Dirlne  Tnigedy.    By  Henry  W. 

b' M'^M^  |H^ttion.    .MoWy  m  trutiiy  tne  low.  uoeton:  j.B.OH«o4aoo.  isn^ 


The  Life  of  Christ  ' 


95 


lemiiSy  of  the  yonDg  ruler 
it   a^raj   sorrowful^  of  Judas 

and    of    John   the   Baptist. 

out  that  view,  he  lets  them 
L  such  characters  as  he  makes 
old  have  said,  and  do  what 
mid  have  done.  But  the 
s    words,    with    scarcely   the 

of  a  sjUahle,  are  written 
3  they  are  found  in  one  or 
Gospel  in  the  received  Eng- 
»ion. 

charming  hook,*  therefore, 
es  very  curiously  and  very 
:ly  that  characteristic  of  the 

Bihle  which  has  done  most 
placing  it  in  the  very  front  of 
eral  modern  versions.  This 
jristic  is  its  rhythmical  lan- 
—  its  frequent  poetical  flow. 
1  another  translator  tried  his 
and  at  last,  when  the  version 
▼  James  was  made,  all  these 
\  came  together  into  the  hands 

committee,  and  they  chose 
\  their  hest  The  law  of  nat- 
lection  worked  its  way;  and 
rcr  rendering  of  the  Hebrew 
trk  best  pleased  tlie  ear  had 
>t  chance,  if  only  it  were  as 
e  as  those  it  was  compared 
And  there  must  have  been  on 
umes's  commission  some  men 
rre  true  poets.  Hardly  one  of 
a?  left  more  than  a  name  be- 
but  it  is  better  than  a  name  to 
eft  such  refniins  as  some  of 
a  l!>aiah  and  the  Gospels  and 
ipoculvpse.  The  ease  with 
the  wodIs  are  adapted  to  music 
Grratorios  is  one  evidence  of  their 
al  flow.     And  when  an  artist  as 

as  Mr.  L#ongfeIIow  selects  from 
'^xts  those  that  best  of  all  suit 
»niands  of  verse  and  rhythm, 
he  even  matches  one  bit  in 
eaie  against  another  so  as  to 
IS  artless  rhyme^  —  artless    it 


seems,  so  exquisite  is  the  delicate  art 
of  the  structure,  —  there  is  one  reason 
more  for  thanking  some  quiet  Eng- 
lish clergyman  of  Shakspeare's  time, 
whose  name  we  never  heard*  nor  shall 
hear,  because  he  would  not  let  the 
King's  new  Bible  go  from  his  parson- 
age to  the  press  till  the  words  were 
as  true  to  his  ear  as  they  were  to  his 
soul. 

Here  is,  for  instance,  Mr.  Longfel- 
low's rendering  of  John  Baptist's 
proclamation  of  the  kingdom  in  the 
wilderness.  It  holds  absolutely  to 
the  familiar  Scripture  language: — 

"  Repent !    Repent !    Repent ! 

For  thc~kingdom  of  God  is  at  hand ; 

And  all  the  land 

Full  of  the  knowledge  of  the  Lord  shall  be 

As  the  waters  cover  the  sea, 

And  encircle  the  continent  I 

Repent  I    Repent !    Repent ! 

For  lo !   the  hour  appointed. 

The  hour  so  long  foretold 

By  tlie  prophets  of  old. 

Of  the  coming  of  the  Anointed, 

The  Messiah,  the  Paraclete, 

The  Desire  of  the  nations,  is  nigh. 

He  shall  not  strive  nor  cry, 

Nor  his  voice  be  heard  in  the  street ; 

Nor  the  bruised  reed  shall  he  break. 

Nor  quench  the  hiaoking  flax. 

And  many  of  them  that  sleep 

In  the  dust  of  the  earth  shall  awake, 

On  that  groat  and  terrible  day ! 

And  the  wicked  shall  wail  and  weep. 

And  be  blown  like  a  smokc^away. 

And  be  mclied  iiwny  like  wax. 

Repent!     Repent!     Rej)ent! 

O  Priest  and  Pharisee  ! 
Who  hath  warned  you  to  flee 
From  the  wraiU  that  is  to  l)e,  — 
From  the  coming  anj|:uish  and  ire  1 
The  axe  is  lai<l  at  the  root 
Of  the  trees  ;  ami  every  tree 
That  brinjreth  not  forth  pood  fruit 
Is  hewn  down,  and  cast  into  the  fire. 

Before  attempting  to  speak  in  de- 
tail of  Mr.  Beeoher's  book  or  Mr. 
Longfellow^s,  we  propose  to  consider 


The  Life  of  Christ 


tli#  genenl  quistioti,  wltj  the  liUn- 
tmt  of  our  time  tara^  so  nstimiljr  to 
•och  loquinefl  and  such  glmtrmlion^ 
The  Attempt  to  tlejscribe  apua 
the  Uf^  of  Christ  appears  in  regions 
the  txioit  remote,  anti  from  points 
of  theological  view  quite  diffeivnt. 
Tlie  criebrated  *' Life  of  Jt^sna^'  bjr 
Lfitimiis«  was  published  only  thirty-^ix 
pears  ago.  Its  object  was  simply  to 
accouut  for  the  hiatory,  or  to  state 
it  truly,  at  whaterer  expense  to  the 
recorrL  It  may  be  8pol<en  of  as  the 
leading  book  in  a  school,  as  it  was 
the  first  word  in  a  long  controversy. 
Dr,  Furness*s  books '  are  to  besjjoken  of 
all  together,  as  one  essay  of  unequalled 
value,  —  to  construct  the  whole  his- 
tory under  the  inquiry,  What  might 
be  expected  from  the  spiritual  power 
of  a  being  morally  perfect,  or  nearly 
so  7  Renan  came  in  with  the  stage 
appointments  perfect,  we  might  say; 
costume,  scenery,  historical  circum- 
stance, in  perfection,  as  a  Macreudy  or 
a  Booth  put3  a  play  of  Shakspeare  on 
the  sUg(* ;  but  that  is  alL  Circum- 
stancoj  outsiile,  and  plenty  of  stage 
effect,  but  a  total  lack  of  the  spirit  of 
truth  or  of  command.  To  fjuote  a 
ton-mat  of  converiiation,  as  true  as 
witty,  it  is  very  perfect  scenery, 
with  very  poor  sticks  for  the  stock 
company.  Meanwhile,  with  every 
tenth  year,  these  peasants  of  the  Up- 
pvr  Ammergau,  in  the  Tyr»>l,  with 
pnjfound  religious  susceptibility,  and 
very  n>al  scHHlcvotion  to  their  work, 
have  bven  in  their  way  re[»rcseutii»g 
th«»  methoil  of  the  pai«sion,  or  the 
dhioiment  of  the  history.  It  often 
happens  tluit  one  meet^  a  sensi- 
tive person,  who  says  of  such  or  such 
a  pictui^  (»f  passion-week  or  of  the 
crofcks^  **  It  wjis  not  so;  it  should  be 
thu»;"  as  if  he  haJ  himstlf  knikiHl 
upon  the  detail  of  the  scene,  merely 
I  0<«  0U>  AM>  Xtv,  f^.  111.  p.  471* 


t^^aose  he  had  aeen  it  in  their 
fiientation,^     Traversing  many  < 
cunclosions  drawn  by  many  of  1 
authors,  Mr.  8eeley,  in  **  Ecce  H(^ 
blo^'ks  out  the  plan  of  the  Chr 
commonwealth  as  Jesus  Christ  [ 
po&ed  it  to  the  world,  and  shows! 
far  he  succeeded  in  his  own 
makin*:?  that  plan  real.     Not  at 
ing  narrative,  he  dotjs  give  a  ooh 
plan  on  which    the  Saviour 
He  is  no  longer  left  to  utter 
work  ejaculations,  a  miracle  her 
sermon  there,  to  astonish  or  to  1 
fute,  without  an  object.     This 
made  his  work  ceutre  on  the  esta^ 
ment  of  his  church  as  a  great  ^ 
tian  commonwealth^  existing 
all  other  governments  and  syst^i 

Such  are  a  few  of  the  leading 
swers  of  our  time  to  the  deterrain 
of  an  inquiriug  age  to  learn  whd 
what  this  Being  was;  who  fouf 
world  unfler  the  command  of  aq 
tocrat,  and  left  in  it  the  seeds  \ 
moc^raoy ;  who  found  it  idolatroij 
atheistici  and  made    it    devout i 
spiritual;    who  found  it  a  wori 
men  hating  each  other,  and  leftl 
the  principle  of  mutual   forbejl 
and    c^jmmon    love;    who    foaij 
staggering,  to    its    grave    wit 
burden  of  sensual  hists,  and 
awake  and  starting  on    a   newi 
Fliilosophical  history  will  auswe 
question  if  nobody  else  will. 

Now,  this  recent  s-ndden  out 
of  this  determinate  desire  to 
again   the  central  life,    the  Li| 
Lives,  is  the  direct  result  of  the  i 
ing  up  of  the  theology  of  tho  eh 
So  long  as  the  Church  chose 
that  Christ  was  Very  God,  who 
certain  thirty  years  of   his  ete 
had  taken  on  him  the  forms  of 
ly  life,  it  was  of  cotirso  simply  im| 
and  blasphemy  for  any  man  to 

» 8c*  Old  aho  Svw,  tol.  M,  p.  MX,  J 


The  Life  of  Christ 


97 


18   motiTes   of   condnct,  of   the 
s  that  he  pursued,  of  any  failure 
is  endeaTorSy  or  even  of  his  sue- 
So    long   there  could  be  '  no 
ife    of    Christ,"   in    the   way  in 
di  we  usually  employ  such  words. 
)iMx  more :  so  long  as  the  Church 
■e  to  say  that  each  word  and  tittle 
fte  gospel  was  absolute  truth,  abso- 
tkj  inspired,  it  was,  of  course,  mere 
l^hemy  for  any  man  even  to  change 
I  arrangement  and  order  of  those 
tods.      There   was   the   authorized 
k  of  Christ,  and  woe  to  any  one 
^  attempted  to  improve  upon  it. 
Once  more  :  so  long  as  the  Church 
be  to  say  that  the  redemption  of 
il  by  Christ  was  simply  a  bargain, 
vbich  the  infinite  price  was  paid 
CilTary  for  an  infinite  blessing  to 
(  vepaid   in   all   time,   it  made  no 
iRence  what  Christ  had  said   or 
te  in  the  thirty  or  more  years  be- 
te that  great  tragedy.     And,  in  fact, 
appears,  that   in  the  ages   of  the 
touch  in  which  her  teachers  have 
Id  to  this  vicarious  view,  they  have 
id  very  little   to  say  about  life  or 
toal  duty.     They  have  bi«lden  men 
Beve  in   the   Saviuur's    atonement, 
id  tliat  has    l^een    the  round   and 
iximam  of  belief.     In    that  stage 
f  enfonred    opinion,    there   was    no 
Im  f>T  biojrraphies  of  Jesus. 
It  L«  not.  then,  till  the  Church  comes 
totk  to  a«:knowledgo  that  Christ  came 
I  that  reijiilar  or«ler  of  providence 
jhicfa  we  call  hi.story,  —  that  he  really 
Ine.  a»  he  said,  to  fulfil  the  past,  and 
I  bring  in  the  future  world,  —  that 
Ibkxstory  has  a  place  in  other  his- 
by.    It  is  not  till  he  is  recognized 
fmkt  of  the  suborilinate  agents  of 
bd, — subordinate  though  the  highest 
f  mboriinates,  —  that  you  can  speak 
ftlie  motives  which  directed  him,  or 
It  parj^oise   he   pursued.     It  is  not 
I  men  see  that  his  life  is  the  life  of 
T 


the  world,  and  that  he  came  to  give 
life  more  abundantly,  that  they  will  J^ 
study  with  any  comprehensive  view, 
nay,  with  any  master  enthusiasm,  the 
method  of  that  life.  But  when  the 
Church  thus  enlarges  and  simplifies 
her  view  of  him,  she  will  at  once  thus 
come  back  to  re-arrange  the  fragments 
which  she  has  of  his  personal  life, 
and  to  throw  on  them  all  the  light 
she  has.  There  is  no  nobler  or  more 
hopeful  sign  of  her  new  liberty  and 
her  new  courage,  than  is  this  deter- 
mination to  set  in  order  the  life  of 
the  Saviour. 

There  are  certainly  immense  diffi- 
culties in  the  way.  They  remind  us  of 
the  lesser  difficulties  which  surround 
the  effort  to  \*Tite  the  biographies  of 
great  men.  When  men  come  to  the 
biography  of  a  great  poet,  or  a  great 
general,  or  a  great  philosopher,  as  of 
Shakspeare  or  Caesar  or  Socrates,  they 
find  that  his  work  is  so  much  greater 
than  the  anecdotes  unsympathizing 
people  have  preserved  about  his  life,  \a| 
that  they  cannot  adjust  the  two  author- 
ities with  each  other.  Of  Shakspeare 
you  are  told  that  he  stole  a  deer  in 
the  forest ;  and  you  do  not  care  for 
the  anecdote,  and  you  say,  *  If  this  is 
biography,  I  had  rather  have  what  he- 
wrote,  to  tell  me  what  he  was  ;  "  and 
you  say  tnie.  And  thus  the  external 
account  drops  more  and  more  away, 
while  the  spirit  of  the  man  lives  and 
glows  more  triumphantly.  Tliis  has 
come  so  far  with  Homer,  that,  in  pro- 
ppirtion  as  men  enjoy  his  work,  they 
doubt  whether  the  man  Homer  ex- 
isted. The  same  thing  will  happen 
to  Socrates ;  and  in  a  few  generations 
more  some  critic  will  maintain,  and 
perhaps  successfully  maintain,  the 
very  plausible  hypothesis  that  Socra- 
tes is  the  creation  of  Plato  and  Xen- 
ophon,  that  there  never  was  such  a 
man  as  we  have  supposed  him.     Just 


98 


The  Life  of  Cliri&t 


such  a  process  of  elimination  lias  gone 
on  with  the  external  incidents  of  the 
life  of  Christ,  The  earlj  Churuh 
rubhed  off,  threw  away,  and  forgot 
incident  and  circumstance  which  we 
should  think  mo^t  interesting.  Thus 
there  is*  do  knowledge  whatever  of  his 
persou;  there  is  nune,  but  from  hia 
own  wordi*,  of  the  metliod  of  his  life. 
Whether,  when  he  said  "  he  had  not 
where  to  lay  his  head,*'  he  s|K»ke  in  a 
metapljur  of  the  lack  of  welcome,  or 
Bpoke  littTally  as  a  homeless  oittcasty 
is  a  question.  Whether  his  active 
work  were  one  year,  two  years,  or 
three*  is  a  question.  There  is  no  end 
of  such  questions ;  because,  in  the 
eternal  law  of  selection,  the  circum- 
stance and  outside  of  his  biography 
have  so  fjdlen  awjty»  leaving  sim{tly 
its  pith  and  marrow,  its  essence  and 
eternal  Buhstance,  in  the  little  frag- 
ments of  memoirs  which  we  call  the 
four  Cnife^pela.  It  is  th€*refore  idle  to 
deny  thiit  the  work  of  making  what 
we  call  his  biography  is  surrounded 
with  difficulty. 

But  the  mere  record  we  have  made 
of  steps  titkcn  towards  it  shut's  it  ia 
not  impoBsible. 

First,  we  have  as  the  substance 
these  four  memoirs,  the  four  Gos- 
pels^ which,  simply  as  narrative,  in  a 
mere  literary  criticism,  are  by  far  tlie 
most  remai'kahle  compositions  the 
world  has  known.  Nowhere  else  in 
literature  i^  this  passionless,  calm 
statement  of  what  the  writers  be- 
lieved to  ho  true,  A  record  by  cn^ 
thusia'^tic  admirers  of  a  divine  man, 
on  whom  they  never  once  bestow  one 
epithet  of  admiration  \  Their  record 
of  his  murder  by  envious  and  cruel 
enemies,  on  whom  they  never  bestow 
one  epithet  of  blame !  The  record 
of  marvels,  such  as  has  no  parallel, 
without  one  epithet  of  surprise  !  The 
lecofd   of   a  revolution   wrought   in 


the  history  of  the  world,  written  j 

with  the  elmplicity  which  might  I 
scribe  a   schoolboy's   w^aJk    fi>}in  f 
school  to  his  home  !     Ttiere  is,  i 
very  little  of  thesu   memoirs, 
that  little,  for  the  purfKJses  of  bi( 
phy,  iij   mittchless.     Litemlty  it  I 
no  parallel  in  literature.  I 

And  we  must  not  forget,  th<3 
is  of  minor  importance,  the  ixnn 
ate  illustration  wliich  these  fbnrl 
pels  gain  from  what  Rensn  \ 
terms  "the  fifth    gospel:" 
the    unchanging  life   of  nature'' 
of  man  in  Palestine.     The  ole 
on   the  Jordan   are   now  what 
were  then.      The  pnjspect  fromj 
hill    of    Nazareth    is    not    chaaj 
The   Bedouin   who   Imunt   the 
from  Jerusalem  to  Jericho  are  oif| 
same  race  and  kind  as  watched  : 
their   hill-tops    the    minij^rry   of] 
Good  Samaritan  ;  an<l  the  rabUle| 
of  children,  who  try  the  pa  tie 
the  traveller's  servants,  come  j 
spy  and  to  ask  quotations  just  9a\ 
children    did     whom     Amlrew 
Philip  sent  away*  when  Jesus  < 
blessed  all  childi*eu  by  saying,  **  i 
little  children  to  come  unto  mc.''l 

There  is  large  room  for 
out  the  four  Gospels,  if  we  will  1 
the  light  the  fifth  gospel  tlirows  \ 
their  record. 

lieailing  them  with  this  lightj 
thoughtful   student   is  compelld 
adjust  with    most   delicate   ca 
place   in    history  of  this    biog 
Frum  llie  lii'st  page  to  the  Ifwt 
Gospels,  it  appears  that  Jx.'^&u:^ 
chose  to  maintain,  for  the  iustit 
he  was  founding,  the  closest 
relation  with  all  the  world- 
he  would  not  speak  with  Jewull 
rowness,    the  Nazarenes   droni| 
from    Kazareth    at    the    begin 
Because  he  denounced  that  ua 
neas  at  Jerusalem^  the  rulers 


The  Life  of  Christ 


99 


^ified  him  at  the  end.  The 
student  is  compelled,  there- 
idy  the  relations  of  this  his- 
all  other  history.  How  is 
Mr.  Eliot's  fine  figure,  that 
t' wheels  of  Rome  smoothed 
ray  for  Christ's  coming? 
t  that  people  of  Parthia 
people  of  Arabia,  and  they 
e  from  the  parts  around 
hen   his  kingdom   is   first 

I  by  the  apostles?  What 
lean  himself,  when  he  says 

to  fulfil  the  Jewish  law 
romise  of  Jewish  prophets  ? 
le  biographer  has  even  a 
;cate  stu<ly  when  he  follows 
r  s  line  of  inquiry,  and  asks 
Christ's  intentions  for  the 
He  will  Qot  find  the  Gospels 
authorities  here.  He  will 
Peter  and  James  in  their 
[kd  Paul  and  Barnabas  in 
lore  successful  fashion,  un- 
se  designs  in  the  very  gen- 
len  they  were  first  flashed 
rorltL  He  may  find  reai>on, 
to  say  that  Paul  himself, 
Te  owe  only  one  quotation 
i:i*  lips,  and  scarcely  one 
»f  Lis  life,  is  in  a  true  sense 
best  biographer  of  Jesus, 
-ry  first  authority, 
►ugh  a  man  understood  all 
r  history  better  than  all 
laiis,  and  though  he  had 
Christian  doctrine  since  bet- 

II  the  theologians ;  though 
he  discrepancies  of  the  four 
etrer    than    all  the  critics, 

tell  us  more  of  the  fifth 
he  travellers  and  all  the 
lers ;  yet  if  he  could  not 
1  sympathy  amounting  to 
1  into  the  life,  plan,  hope, 
r  of  the  Saviour,  he  could 
i  his  biography.  There'  is 
mething   ludicrous  in    the 


biographical  essays  of  the  mere  critics. 
They  are  like  a  blind  man's  dis- 
cussions of  pre-Baphaelite  art,  or  a 
deaf  man's  discussions  of  Beethoven's 
symphonies.  From  first  to  last  such 
a  man  as  Paulus  has  not  the  faintest 
conception  of  the  purpose,  success,  or 
spirit  of  the  infinite  enterprise  in 
which  Jesus  Christ  had  engaged. 
And  when  such  a  man  turns  to  tell- 
ing the  story  of  it,  the  result  is  of 
course  ridiculous  to  absurdity. 

Shall  we  add,  what  seems  of  course, 
that  the  biographer  of  Jesus  Christ 
must  have  what  certainly  none  of  the 
writers  have  whom  we  have  enumer- 
ated together,  excepting  Mr.  Long- 
fellow, and  he  does  not  claim  to  be  a 
biographer.  They  must  have  the 
simple  power  of  sustained  narrative. 
This  is  the  rarest  literary  gift  of  all. 
One  has  only  to  read  Mr.  Beecher's 
novel  of  "  Norwood,"  bright,  wise,  and 
witty  as  it  is,  to  see  that  he  has  not  this 
power  of  narrative.  Dr.  Furness  has 
it  so  little,  that  he  waives  entirely  the 
chronology  of  the  Gospels.  He  takes 
an  incident  here,  or  one  there,  for  its 
moral  effect  and  purpose ;  but  seems 
quite  unconscious  of  any  culmination 
in  the  story  between  the  experiments 
of  the  beginning  and  the  cruel  vic- 
tory of  the  end. 

The  same  thing,  really,  may  be 
said  of  Henan  ;  though  he  does  have  a 
theory  of  beginning,  middle,  and  end. 
For  he  takes  from  his  authorities  a 
bit  for  his  beginning,  or  a  bit  for  his 
end,  just  as  he  fancies  ;  accepting  or 
rejecting,  twisting  right  or  twist- 
ing left,  as  his  theory  may  require. 
Mr.  Seeley  makes  no  attempt  at  nar- 
rative. And  probably,  of  all  the  re- 
cent efforts  to  represent  this  life,  the 
dramatic  exhibition  of  the  Ammergau 
peasants  has  done  the  most  to  make 
it  real. 

It  is  a  simple  thing  to  say,  but  it 


100 


The  Debatable  Land. 


u  important,  la  the  new  enterprise 
fur  a  biography  of  Jesus,  that  it 
should  be  said  :  there  cao  never  bo  ii 
connected  niirrative  of  that  life  writ- 
ten but  by  somebody  who  can  write 
connected  narrarive. 

We  dhall  attempt  in  an  early  num- 
ber of  "  Ul0  and  Kew  •'  to  sliow  how 
far  Mr.  Beech er'a  book  meeta  the  re- 
quisition of  the  true  "  Life  of  Christ " 


THE  DEBATABLE  LAND  BETWEEN 
Tins   WOULD  AND  THE  NEXT. 

T11J8  is  a  brave  and  honest  book- 
It  is  ulways  brave  and  honest  to  say 
what  one  thinks ;  to  express  one's  con- 
vict i*jnii,  when  these  do  not  run  with 
the  popular  currents.  There  are  ft'W 
tliingH  more  entertain ijig  than  the 
attitude  of  tlie  leader  of  thougl^ts  in 
relation  to  certain  new-claiuied  tacts, 
the  aggregate  of  wiiieh  bears  the 
clumsy  name  of  Spiritualism. 

We  hear  from  Mr.  Owen  how  ho 
eame  by  his  conviction  of  the  truth  of 
thes^e  thingtt  j  and  it  is  probable  that 
the  miracle  which  converted  hira 
would  convert  most  thinkers  if  it 
could  reach  them.  But  it  does  not, 
nor  any  thing  like  it  The  great 
world  of  tidnkiug,  logical^  practical 
men  hears  of  such  matters  with  an- 
noyance and  contempt.  To  dream  of 
their  being  true,  and  as  perhaps  the 
master-secret  of  both  this  world  and 
the  next,  does  not  occur  to  them. 
C Content  with  tlieir  utter  acquaintance 
with  God's  mysteries^  they  scarctdy 
care  to  conceal  their  pity  for  the  vic- 
tims of  such  cheap  deceptions.  While 
they  have  Vi^ry  little  faith  in  divine 
mysteries,  they  are  gifted  with  a 
Loundhns:*  faith  in  human  trickery. 
Thift  life  does  not  seem  evermore  on 
the  point  of  whispering  in  their  ear 

»  T]»e  DebaUble  Laud  belwevn  thl«  World  and 
Unf  Kelt.  By  nnlH'rt  Dale  Owen,  Kew  York: 
ii.  WtCartuton  s.  Co. 


some  heavenly  secfet  kept  bom 
till  now,  but  merely  to  echo  aDdl 
echo  with  the  cup-tricks  of  die 
prestidigitators.     If  by  a  man's  il 
belief  he  shall  be  known,  ourcultifi 
classes^  it  mny  be  feared,  are  th«  1 
in  the  position  of  that  !: 
whom  are  eontifled  the    i 
kingdom  of  heaven. 

This  belief  of  Mr,  Owen's,  and  ( 
stories  of  his,  after  all ^  are  either | 
or  false.     If  they   are   f;\ls«\  we  | 
tainly  must  add  one  new  thing  1 
category  of  human   vilhinieii  all  j 
the  world.     Bat,  if  they  are 
can   hardly   be   pretended  that  I 
thing  can  exceed  them,  either  id 
terest  as   truths,    or    in   their 
personal  interest  to  us.     I'erhap 
of  the  best  proofs  of  their  geouiu 
is   their  f>o\verful   action   on  hq 
thouglit,  which  could  nev^r  come^ 
a  nullity.     Men  go  thmugh  the] 
of  easy  denial,  sham  investi^ 
rest  with   a  delight   which   de 
themselvea  in  occasional  failur 
then,  after  saying  to  their  fri<Tnd»(j 
**if,  after   all,  there   should   bo] 
thing  in  it,  it  must  be  of   the 
they  dismiss  it  forever.     This  1 
what  we  called  above  the  enter 
position  of  the  thinking  world 
lation  to  these  phenomena.     It  ii 
tertaintug,  and  at  the  same  timo^ 
because  we  hold  that   the   tliLi 
manded    of    them,  belief,  was 
easy  and  natural,     Ordy  a  very^ 
pid    child,    we    suppose,    would ^ 
seriously  call  a  miracle   a  cool 
tion  of  the  laws  of  nature, 
a   miracle?     A  wonder,   a  rare ^ 
admirable  thing.      Is  the  rarity  < 
a  reiison   for   its    non-exi3ten£%| 
more  than  if  it  ooc^urred  evety  1 
Are  tidal-waves  and  coraetd  atid ' 
tury-blooming   aloes    less    real 
than    morning   and     evening  ? 
ndiodi  of  the    philosopher  wli 


7%«  DebatdbU  Land. 


101 


f  a  leaDy  new  and  wonder- 

tboold  be  disposed  to  deny 

he  may  be  confident,  be  in- 

hb  ignorance,  and  not  by 

dge.     It  is  sad,  too,  because, 

\  air  of  freshness  and  sur- 

h  invests  Spiiitualisni,  we 

e  world's  old  friend  with  a 

as  Hamlet  says,  — 

I,  old  mok!  cuut  woric  in  the 
St!" 

ae  of  these  modem  narra- 
h  are  getting  so  abundant 
normor  like  the  voices  of 
>is,  hint  at  their  brothers 
the    line    of    the   world's 

y  difference  between  the 
worshipper  of  old,  listening 
ices  with  child-like  adora- 
he  attitude  of  man  toward 
itA,  is  that  now  in  his  man- 
\j  have  less  of  adoration, 
knowledge  of  the  law 
^m:}  them  alL  If  the  high- 
$  king  of  those  below  him, 

visitors  from  beyond  the 

life    come   with    the    au- 
a  law  which  controls   the 

daily  wills  of    their  infe- 
ibjeots. 

:atiou  so  august,  that,  when 
ted  by  his  brother  of  the 
bould  hold  to  that  gravi- 
deny  his  brother  ? 
i  no  doubt,  speaking  seri- 
the  inimical  attitude  of 
rards  these  new  facts  will 
,  ere  long,  by  a  speedy  rec- 
As  law  is  everywhere, 
y  a  suspicion  of  the  abso- 
9f  spirit-approach  is  shap- 
irhen  the  hour  strikes  that 
jalism  can  present  herself 
1  ticketed  as  the  child  of 
oors  of  academies  and  col- 
»e  thrown  open  to  her ;  and 

that  tough  story  of   Dr. 


Franklin  and  his,  coat,  a  piece   of 
which  was  cut  off  by  request,  science 
may  assume  a  patronage  of  the  an- 
gelic host,  which  wiU  put  the  doctors 
of  divinity  to  shame.    The  world  then 
may    see    a    strange    reconciliation* 
The  processes  of  ficiith  will    h^ve  be-    \ 
come  those  of  thought  and  study,  and  * 
a  familiarity  with  the  most  recondite**/ 
mysteries  will  be  one  of  the  signs  of 
the  earth's  manhood.  .'••*•• 

To  Christian  people  who  believe'f  ]£*• 
Spiritualism,  there  is  nothing  'sd* 
strange  as  the  indifference  of  oChe^ 
Christians  to  it  Those  Bible  /pira- 
cies, to  which  some  foolish  ^i^^le 
fondly  cling  for  reasoA  of«'/<their 
strangeness,  are  all  as  much -the.  crea- 
tures of  law  as  are  these  n\pdefn  pal- 
try wonders  of  the  do]jbr««^ance. 
But  behind  the  vulgarity  ef;iR%  stance 
is  the  majesty  of  an  «te«ial  fact; 
and  it  comes  from  the  quarter  wheuce 
all  such  facts  have  ejicf^r  *deme,  and  it 
bears  a  likened  hinis 'oT  a  kinship^ 
¥rith  the  grandest  things  ever  done  ^ 
in  Gralilee  or  in  Jerusalem.  These  ' 
modem  Christians,  we  say,  do  not  care 
to  see.  Have  they  not  the  wit  to  dis- 
cover what  a  conquering  weapon  is 
here  against  the  host  of  atheism  and 
denial  ?  It  is  certainly  interesting, 
that  at  this  very  moment,  when 
the  world  is  ou  the  point  of  going 
over,  not  only  to  belief,  but  some  un- 
derstanding of  the  method  and  laws 
where  the  two  worlds  come  in  con- 
tact, —  this  and  the  world  to  come,  — 
that  at  that  very  moment  there 
should  be  a  more  joyous  and  rampant 
materialism  asserted  everywhere  than 
perhaps  the  world  has  before  seen. 
So  it  is  darkest  just  before  dawn. 
We  have  the  most  settled  conviction 
of  the  nearness  of  the  day  when  the 
focus  of  interest  and  light  brought  to 
bear  upon  the  facts  of  Spiritualism 
will  produce  a  magical  change  in  the 


f        102 


The  Debatable  Land, 


r..- 


thinking  world.    For  the  delight  at  the 
discovery  that  Science  can  throw  her 
net   over   the.se  shining  and  volatile 
visitors  will   be  so  great,  that  she  wiD 
make  of  tliis  her  Benjamin  and  latest 
born*     We  have  no  feur  of  her  con- 
tinued ennoitj ;  for  past  all  the  maaea 
of  metaphysics  and  the  irajiossihilities 
•  *y  of  religious  evidence,  there  will  be  ao- 
•*      quired  to  the  world  some  clew  to  the 
.••*^veming  order,  some  final  apprehen- 
•  .*ton  that  the  disturbing  force  is  gov- 
•^me<l  by  law,  as  are  all  other  forces, 
^Ifdt  force  and  that  law  may  then  be 
caHjE;^  electric  or  angelic,  but  science 
wiJj.Aave  made    it    her   own;    and 
thoit^t^.it  may  stand  a  gypsy  among 
I  the'a^f^ants  of  the  household,  it  will 

^H     bear  th^*  i^adge  of  its  master,  and  be 
^™     recogaw^^  as  his, 
I  Mr.  t3^f  en,  to  whom  we  owe  a  most 

I  en tertaiaiBg.  sheaf  of  stones,  such  as 

I  human  nat*ure  has  always  listened  to 

I  w i th  te  rr i  iiCtT  d^l i  gh t  rou n  d  t  h  e  crae k- 

P  ling  logs  of-^tTit-Vinters  lire,  has  here 

[^^  given  us  a  lew  more  excellent  ones. 
We  particularly  invite  the  reader's  at- 
tention to  the  poetic  and  picturesque 
narration  of  Mr.  Bach  and  his  spinet 
We  were  very  much  pleased,  too, 
with  Mr.  Owen's  simple  statement  of 
the  cause  of  the  retrocession  of  Prot- 
estantism. It  is  sad  I  ndeed,  that  when 
humanity  had  dashed  from  it«  lips  the 
cup  of  Rome,  foul  with  the  rottenness 
of  paganism,  Calvin  should  have 
supplied  its  place  with  no  other  than 
a  (Ir.tught  so  hitter  and  so  acrid. 
Hymnnity  still  looks  to  see  her  Sa- 
viour's teachings  better  expressed 
through  the  churches  which  call  thera- 
selvi'Hi  CJjrJstian.  God  grant  that  this 
new  thing,  Spiritualism,  which  if  it 
be  true  must  he  of  him,  may  do  some- 
thing to  lead  us  all  upward  to  the  light. 
Since  the  above  was  written  we 
have  seen  a  report  of  the  London  I>i- 
&leetical  Society.     This  report,   it  ia 


careful  not  to  make,  and  it  si 
good  sense :  for  a  remtmt  whici 
be  merely  affirmative  or  ne 
cording  to  numbers,  would  be 
and  a  deception.  It  consists 
of  the  refwrU  of  sub-commiti 
dence  pro  anil  con,  and  the  es 
of  opinion  adverse  or  favoi 
holds  great  masses  of  evide 
has  a  lively  correspondent 
with  sceptics  and  believei 
sceptics,  as  usual,  are  q 
Their  temper  is  excessively 
sophical,  and  begs  the  question 
examination  by  its  determinat 
to  see  any  thing.  As  the  red 
the  enraged  bull,  as  a  heretic 
Spanii^h  Inquisition,  bo  is  mnj  1 
of  high  things  beyond  their 
these  modern  inquisitors.  Tl 
true  to  the  traditions  of  hum 
tare,  and  are  determined  to 
souvenirs  of  the  fagot  and 
to  the  last  And,  as  of  old| 
truth  which  so  irritates  theq 
ranges  itself  among  its  mild  i 
neficent  fellows,  ami  philosophy 
the  next  comer  with  its  trai 
animosity. 

One  step   forward    to  the  c< 
tion  of  faith  and  philosophy  mi 
by  this  report  of  the  Dialectii 
ciety.     It  expresses,  on  the  wl 
the  part  of   a  great    body  of   ! 
science,  noblemen,  and  men  of 
the  determination  to  grapple  v< 
difficulties  which  beset  Spirit 
and  to  arrive  at  some  reasonat 
elusion.     That  reasonable  and 
able  conclusion  is,  to  be  sarop 
implied   than   asserted;  but 
step  forward.     It  will  familial 
public  of  England  with  the    m 
stranger,  and   prepare    her   eii 
in    academic   robes    finally    ii 
halls   of   science   and   learnixi 
us,  who  believe  that,  logically, 
ualism  cannot  but  be  a  new 


^ 


The  Earth 


103 


€  this  world's    progress,    the     last 
iKpression  of    man^s    onward  growth 
Did  increased  nearness  to  millennial 
md   spiritual  conditions,  it  is  a  more 
iuoi  usually  interesting  event.     And 
rho  shall  say  what  the  future   may 
leld  for  us  in   this  direction  ?    what 
ihare   in   the  last   perfecting  of  the 
knowledge    and  uses   of   this   world 
lliese  half-brothers   of  onrs  may  not 
like?    It  is  a  matter  too   exciting 
ko  make  it  safe   to  rhapsodize  or  pre- 
ttet  in  relation  to  it.     A  certain  person, 
iMi  seeing  the  electric  telegraph  first 
ked,  —  that   last  final     echo     of 
I's  own  nervous  system,  sent  back 
[ftjthe  creative  powers  of    nature, — 
laiud  that,  logically,  the  next  step   to 
jHuB  should  be  spirit-intercourse ;  and 
f^hat  logically  should  be  the  world's 
JMxt  step  in  Spiritualism,   it   is   not 
^IHfe  to  predict.      That  such     inter- 
^coarse  should   further  all  good    ends 
^  enlarged  sympathy,   mutual   help, 
kindness,  and   tolerance,  would  seem 
to  be  probable  ;  and  while  the  rever- 
.  tnce  remains  with  which  we  regard  the 
-'aatural  laws  of  this  world,  how  can  it 
:  bat  be  stimulating   and  ennobling  to 
man  to  find  some  hint  and  apprehen- 
of  the  laws  of  other  worlds  ?     Th  at 
ytt  should    defend  stoutly   our   own 
boQse  is  natural  and  creditable ;  but 
vhen  it  shall  have  surrendered  to  its 
ktvenly  assailant,  the   terms  of  ca- 
|italation  will  do  no  dishonor  to  the 
mpected   laws   of   this  world.     And 
tiien,  when  .we    recall   the   peculiar 
ipirit  apprehension  with  which  we  lis- 
tened to  the  terrible  lines  which  car- 
lied  with  them  their  moment  of  con- 
^on,  as  they  fell   from   the   mouth 
«f  the   father  of    Hamlet,  that  that 
flooviction,  evidently  shared  in  by  the 
(teat  master, was  meant  to  be  somewhat 
'^re  enduring   than   only  that  of  a 
[Jboment.     How  many  people  have  de- 
'iigfatedly  quoted  the    famous    line,  — 


"  From  whose  boarn  no  trayeller  returns," 
who   are   quite   willing  to  forget  that     ^ 
very   visitor,  on   the  genuineness   of      ^ 
whose   return  centred  all  the  interest 
of  the  play. 

THE  EARTH.* 
The  earth  is  a  ball  of  melted 
mineral  matter.  A  thin  skin  on  the 
outside  of  it  has  cooled  down  to  a 
temperature  which  permits  life  upon 
its  surface.  In  the  process  of  cool- 
ing, the  contractions  of  the  mass 
have  resulted  in  irregular  bulgings 
(continents)  in  some  places,  and  de- 
pressions (oceans)  in  others,  into 
which  last  the  waters  gathered. 
Ileavings  or  tremblings  of  the  vast 
hot  semi-fluid  ball  are  constantly 
cracking  or  shaking  the  stitf  skin- 
above  it;  these  are  earthquakes. 
Fire,  melted  stone,  mud,  gas,  steam, 
burst  out  through  the  cracks ;  these 
are  volcanic  eruptions.  These  cracks 
sometimes  follow  the  shore  line,  as  if 
there  had  been  a  sharply  defined  A 
breaking  down  along  that  line,  in  or- 
der to  sink  the  ocean-b«Ml  to  its 
place.  In  such  a  case  we  have  a 
long  line  of  fires,  breaking  out  here 
and  there ;  thus,  the  "  ring  of  fire " 
which  edges  the  Pacific  Ocean  is 
twenty-two  thousand  miles  long. 
The  movements  of  the  earth  are  in- 
cessant. The  old  planet  is  thrilling 
and  surging  under  us  from  hour  to 
hour.  Coasts  are  rising,  others  are 
sinking;  mountains  are  wearing 
down,  and  others  are  rising.  A  gen- 
tleman who  is  so  good  as  to  watch  for 
earthquakes  in  one  single  place,  re- 
ports that  he  has  never  known  more 
than  thirty  hours  to  elapse  without  a 
shock  of  some  kind,  in  that  one 
place.     The  vast  globe,  then,  is  not 

1  The  Earth :  A  DescrlpUve  Hlatory  of  the  Life 
of  the  Globe.  By  KUa^  Reclus.  Translated  by 
the  late  B.  B.  Woodward,  and  edited  by  Henry 
Woodward.    8vo.  Harper  &  Bros.    1871. 


Ani^^i^jn  '.tTTt^ 


t":-  zTrLT.  v:Z-:r.:zi  of  facts  id  p 

r-V'-rvl   kii    .".--siritrl  in   Iiis 
_:"•- r-rCLj  T  ."-:ir.      It  is  a  dii 
^■  L  *.l1  i*rr:^-_jr:i.-:it  of   the  I 

1---  -rr-r  :.L^ -.*. unions  aUiut 

.--'•."    :^T^_  J- 1  ui.it.-r  four  he 
Ti-  Z-r::  i.-  -  I'!.^.-:  :  Laud:  T? 

ij.  .  ^.Lj  r  -:ii  siiow):  audi 
'-rTTLz.i-u^  T  r  r*.     The   aiithora 

■---i-'i.L.r  'w.':!-  :,:?  5-ubJL*ot  is  a 
-:-!.".  ":..?  L:.L-.i:.z  ■:•:  the  subje 
..-.:.  L.'..l  :1t  :r-i.5*a:or's  EnglL 
"-1  :.r  _-.  ;-  r.».«- :  ti.r  l-v>.ik  is  one  o 
It-:  .:  ::_-.  riTTi-T-ire  aiid  useful 
TL-r-rT-ij  l7:'-r:nie:::  of  jk)] 
>.  tl.t.  ■*-':.:. L  :?  i:  present  iuc 
.:l^  ?..  r-;  l.r.  Its  usefulnej 
:_  _  i  :  r .  rt  :.>r  L  L  i-wtver,  by  the 


:\:..r.  I'r  Vri;E  L:»s  given  ii 
:•.•  ii  ^  .■::..:•-:-. I.:  outline  of 
:::':-ri  ^i  ■.::,  1-j:  be  has 
.  :  r  ;  >-.  -.  :.  ::  in  lillinj:  out 
.-:-..-  >  :.*r  :.<  0^:1  be  ja 
:r  _  ::.f  .*  :k  ::M.-'f.  howevei 
_-::.:*  ^rv  l.:  -I.:-.-  :•♦  any  wai 
-:...:■-  :  ::.l.i.:ry  i:;  ::ie  author 
?-._.-  T^:..-77  "..kv  ...Uir  t'Mj  ra 
.  ..r.  •.  V  J  v.:.:vr  «.'VtT- worked, 
.r:  t  ;  :!.r.  :,-..  :::e  j.re=is  wr 
:..-  v:.  J..- .,  r.  :>:  -Ii.  Carelessni 
V . .  ..  -  : :.  a",  wx  :>< :  e v  i?  ry  j  »a  ^e ;  a 
>.:  '_  :»:.  vx:.-:  i-  ::iis  tlie  case, 
:".  .-  '^. rk  i>  rvaV.y  worth  littl 
:.•;.::.::  -w^  an  auihoriiy,  or  a 
..'.'.■.;.  :>  7-r.\\  kii.j.vied^^e  oi 
>.:"  ■  :.  Q  i:.:.i::  .:.<  could  be 
:...:'.■:-.  i  :■•  a:.y  rxtvii:  in  illustra 
::<  r...  Ivr  :>  s::re  :o  meet  one  I 
:>.-  :.J5  Fvai  :::;n-  than  a  few  j 
r'..u>  wv  v:«v:i   a:    random   at 

■  Ar^<-.a-:*Tr.*:      Th*    Enelisth  of    tt 
W.r.i      l^y  \l   >:bf.o  do   Vere,  LL.D., 
♦-  r     \  Mv-^i-rn  Ld::^*j.ict>»  in    iho  Unlver 
V-.rc-.-.-A.  Cr.  ?T0.  C  Scribaer  and  Co.    IK 


Beyei'8  Arja. 


105 


I  the  next  page,  382,  it  is 
t  the  **  long  feelers  "  of  a  cer- 
1  have  procured  it  the  name 
med  pout."  It  was  rather 
\  sharp  horns  or  thorns  which 
these  have  often  enough  jus- 
he  title  to  most  Americans, 
me  had  ever  heen  stuck  into 
►e  Vere's  hand  he  would  not 
dked  about  "feelers."  On 
t  page  it  is  said  that  the  blue 
;  on  the  coast  of  New  England 
•  Conner ;  "  the  name  is  "  cun- 
Again :  at  p.  513,  "  to  be  on 
explained  as  meaning  "to  be 
or  a  fight;"  whereas  it  only 

to  be  ready,  whether  for 
rolic,  or  funeral.  The  like 
icies  swarm  throughout  the 
It,  however,  contains  a  great 
>rraft  and  interesting  sugges- 

If  four  careful,  thorough, 
curate  scholars,  one  for  the 
ie  far  the  ^liddle  States,  one 
y>u:h  and  South-west,  and  one 

Western  and  Pacific  States, 
:vr\s^  and  edit  the  work,  it 
j^come  a  very  valuable  moii- 
>f  to-day's  Americanisms. 


BEYERS  ARJA  1 
Beyer  is  favorably  known  to 
rman  reading  public,  not  only 
fft  of  considerable  distinction, 
xvially  as  the  author  of  a 
f  biX^ks  consisting  of  reminis- 
criticisms,  and  characteristics 
d  to  illustrate  the  life  and  lit- 
ireer  of  that  most  erudite  and 
>litan  of  modem  poets,  Fried- 
uckert.  The  most  complete 
f  works  is  a  volume  entitled 
rirh    Ruckert,    ein  hiograph- 

Die  BcfadiMten  Sagen  aas  Indien  and 
Dr.  C.  Beyer.    Hit  acht  Bildem  tod 

rarvtrter.      Leipzig:   C.  F.  Amelang's 

►Ti.  Pp.  TliL  827. 


isches  DenkmaV^  It  is  the  best  and 
indeed  the  only  adequate  biography 
of  Ruckert,  that  has  ever  appeared, 
and  is  indispensable  to  all  who  would 
know  the  secret  history  and  fully  ap- 
preciate the  hidden  beauty  of  some 
of  his  most  charming  poems.  With 
the  ardent  enthusiasm  and  untiring 
energy  of  a  German  scholar.  Dr. 
Beyer  has  also  collected  from  every 
quarter,  private  and  public,  the  waifs 
of  KQckert's  muse,  many  of  which 
lay  buried,  like  forgotten  gems,  in 
the  vast  lumber-room  of  German  pe- 
riodical literature,  to  which  Kiickert 
was  for  more  than  half  a  century  a 
prolific  contributor ;  while  many  oth- 
ers existed  only  as  manuscripts  in 
the  possession  of  friends,  who  treas- 
ured them  too  highly  to  permit  them 
to  pass  into  print.  All  these  produc- 
tions are  now  to  appear  in  Sauerlan- 
der's  GesamnU'Ausgabe  of  Kiickert's 
works  (Frankfort  on  the  Main), 
which,  after  having  undergone  the 
critical  revision  of  Dr.  Beyer,  will 
undoubtedly  excel  all  other  editions 
both  in  fulness  and  in  accuracy.  We 
make  these  remarks  incidentally  for 
the  benefit  of  the  book-buying  lovers 
of  German  literature.  "  Arja  "  is,  as 
its  title  indicates,  a  collection  of  the 
most  beautiful  legends  of  India  and 
Persia,  translated  into  prose,  and  nar- 
rated in  that  delightful  style  of 
which  Dr.  Beyer  is  an  acknowledged 
master.  The  first  of  these  sagas  is 
the  story  of  Rostem  and  Suhrab, 
taken  from  the  "  Shah-Nameh " 
(Book  of  the  Kings)  of  the  illus- 
trious Persian* poet,  Firdousi.  This 
tale  is  not  only  extremely  attractive 
in  itself,  but  possesses  also  additional 
interest  from  its  striking  resemblance 
to  the  oldest  relics  of  Teutonic  and 
Celtic  epic  poetry,  as  preserved  in  the 
songs  of  the  German  Hildebrand  and 
Hadebrand,  the  Gaelic  Clessamor  and 


Cv--". 


A  X'l'jc  Ji^rUh  B'Mical  Work. 


^'.V  .'-JL-* 


kis  &nd  writes  £Dgli:< 
-rf::'.':  «k=<".     He  has  alrtath 

.7.-._""     ..^";i:.    iTr    IT. :  E^iC'^^i^ikstcs  into  Iialiaii. ; 
I- -ttl.^  r.-Li-Lrr  iz.i  Ji    r:-lTr^i  i  pi-rtion  of  the  IVil 


r:77  ":t  ^Lknr  l"r.-.  I:.iliaa  rnu^lation  will 

-':..-  T-r>.  It.  7-'1:j1-L     The  Ellgli^h  Irai; 

-J. rr   -:  .^.'l-.-i  n-.r-Iv  :1c  rviiilrof  a  lU-siri-  t 

^    r*:»^z, .    :'".-:  .^^    An-rrloiin   trieuil  how    lu 

itt    rr  -     :1-  -'T*-   --   ---J  a*  ^tll  as  of  1 

'In'i    sr-^Tr-illT.  i:  "i.-  L?  i.*t  to  us  thixiugh  t] 

-  Tr^i?:.  :!ir  '^^    -  '-'^  ir.ir>Iu;ioii.     lake 

I'Lr."     -7.ir  ^":-:.-•r.  :l.r  t-ijhrr-niuth  Psalir 

-!-  f      '.r  ii::  r.-T^-:^.  i-.o.iding  to  ^*iJ^^lo^  (. 

L.--T  Liij"  '.  .-"-in?  a  in->r  shaqt  aud  bit 

1.'-     J --ri:   :.  -  r...I:z^  of  Jehovah,  and  a  Iki! 

■  i  -  >-..T^:-_z..  1:-^--  •:-  rhe  part  of  the  hum 

■  i:-~    Ti.jTr.  -r^--  :o  o»:niran?  and  tt-st  ilie 
- 1     .  ■:  -  '. f - *-• :  •" :"  T- V  ir  oouxik-i ing  causes.    S^ 

in  :      Iri^:.  -^  "-•*  l^-Ziiairi'.  that  a  ceMaiii 

n-Trr  -Jr  .ij^r  T.*  '^  i.  "«**':**•-■  I'.ved  long  ago.  is  j 

ifr.     :•;,     L-s  j -iic  :■.- aa  old  Htrbrew  cwnu 

:::lj:  :lf  ^.?k  •^:-.;i  iLi?  Psalm)  to  have  foi 

:Tr*:::TT  ::r::;.  *--  ^^r^s  to  l»e  read  in  his  h 

CTcr::r   w:r:Lv  ^   -^    o:«iisidt-n?d    such    expi 

VIa>7'::^z:v  against   the   Mo.>t 

Yvr  ^  .:r  vor^ion  is  drawn  so  vi- 

th-:  LLv  one  would  recognize  i 


The  Lost  Despatch,  Etc 


lOT 


£  jjoerr  dbspatcr 

«T  ]>BSPATCH  ^  is  the  title 
mt  stxnry  translated  by  Miss 
from  the  German  of  Fried- 
Irich.  The  plot  is  bright 
tainingy  and  gracefally  told, 
be  oxkhealthy  excitement  of 
tn  novel  One  of  the  best 
that  sach  translations  can 
I  is  to   introduce  a  healthy 

>  the  stories  of  this  class, 
ight  to  be  lively  enough  to 
iwake  throagh  the  evening, 

>  exciting  as  to  make  ns  lose 
I  deep.  ""The  Lost  Des- 
B  not  a  long  story,  bat  can 
throagh   at  a  sitting  with 

The  translation  is  admira- 
r  readers  have  occasion  to 
it  Miss  Williams's  faculty  in 
isVf  the  best,  for  they  are 
to  her  for  the  translation  of 
rites." 


lBRIAGE  in  FRANCE. 

&  the  reforms  in  France,  the 
hinkers  are  turning  their  at- 
0  that  of  the  civil  law  with 
:o  marriages*  M.  Ernest 
wrings  forward  the  statistics 
;ard  to  marriage,  legitimate 
itimate  births,  and  suits  for 
in  France,  and  points  the 
r  the  relaxation  of  manners. 
»es  a  series  of  reforms  to  be 
id  into  criminal  and  civil 
n;  a  more  severe  repression 
es  upon  morals ;  the  classing 
aoiong  crimes,  and  the  indis- 
of  marriage.  His  book  is 
ith  quotations,  as  he  fortifies 
argeJy  with  the  opinions  of 


ft  I>Mpaicb,  traoalated  fh>m  the  Oer- 
edrfcfa   FViedrieh.  by  L.  A.  WiUiaoLi. 
Be«  K.  (Hgowl  lb  Co.    1871. 
iagtt  ca  Fraooe,  par  IC  Ernest  Cadet. 


FICTION. 

Wb  enumerate  below  the  titles  of 
such  recent  works  of  fiction  as  have 
reached  us,  and  are  worth  buying. 
We  shall  notice  some  of  them  more 
fully  at  another  time. 

Dene  Hollow.  By  Mrs.  Henry 
Wood.  Philadelphia:  T.  B.  Peter^ 
son  &  Bros.  For  admirers  of  Mrs. 
Henry  Wood. 

Joshua  Mabvel.  By  B.  L.  Far- 
jeon,  author  of  "  Gril"  New  York : 
Harper  &  Bros. 

Beal  Folks.  By  Mrs.  A.  D.  T. 
Whitney.  Boston :  J.  B.  Osgood  & 
Co. 

My  Wife  and  L  By  Mrs.  H.  B. 
Stowe.  New  York :  J.  B.  Ford  & 
Co. 

WiLLLAJI        HeNST        and        HIS 

Friends.  By  Mrs.  A.  M.  Diaz. 
Boston :  J.  B.  Osgood  &  Co.  Juve- 
nile. 

Hannah.  By  Mrs.  Craik.  New 
York :  Harper  &  Bros. 

August  and  Elvie.  By  Jacob 
Abbott.  New  York  :  Dodd  &  Mead. 
Juvenile. 

The  Invasion  of  France  in 
1814.  By  Erckmann-Chatrian.  New 
York  :  C.  Scribner  &  Co. 

The  Old  Back  Boom.  By  Jen- 
nie Harrison.  New  York :  Dodd  & 
Mead.     Juvenile. 

Aunt  Jane's  Hero.  By  E.  Pren- 
tiss. New  York :  A.  D.  F.  Randolph. 
Juvenile. 

The  Eight  One.  By  Marie  So- 
phie Schwartz.  Translated  by  Selma 
Borg  and  Maria  A.  Brown.  Boston : 
Lee  &  Shepard. 

Durnton  Abbey.  By  T.  A. 
Trollope.  New  York:  Harper  & 
Bros. 

Arabesques.  By  Mrs.  Greenough. 
Boston :  Roberts  Bros.  Short  Sto- 
ries. 


108 


Other  New  Books. 


OTHER  NEW  BOOKS. 

Pabk-Street  Pulpit.  Sermons. 
By  Rev.  W.  H.  H.  Murray.  Boston  ; 
J.*  R.  Osgood  &  Co. 

Health  and  its  Conditions. 
By  James  Hinton.  New  York :  G. 
P.  Putnam  &  Sons. 

Naturalist's  Journey  Round 
THE  World.  By  Charles  Darwin. 
New  York  :  D.  Appleton  &  Co. 

First  Help  in  Accidents  and 
IN  Sickness.  From  "  Good  Health." 
Boston :  Alexander  Moore. 

A  Journey  Round  my  Room. 
By  Xavier  de  Maistre.  Translated 
by  H.  A.  New  York:  Hurd  & 
Houghton. 

The  Church  Idea.  By  W.  R. 
Huntington.  New  York :  Hurd  & 
Houghton. 

East  and  West  Poems.  By  Bret 
Harte.     Boston  :  J.  R.  Osgood  &  Co. 

History  of  Louis  Philippe. 
By  John  S.  C.  Abbott  New  York: 
Harper  &  Bros. 

Eating  and  Drinking.  By 
George  M.  Beard,  M.D.  New  York : 
G.  P.  Putnam  &  Sons. 

After  All,  not  to  Create  Only. 
By  Walt  Wliitman.  Boston:  Rob- 
erts Bros. 

Stimulants  and  Narcotics.    By 


Geoi^  M.  Beard,  M.D.    New  Ya 
G.  P.  Putnam  &  Sods. 

Mary  Queen  of  Scots. 
F.   Meline.      New  York:    Hudl 
Houghton.    A  defence  of  her. 

Beautiful  Snow,  and 
Poems.  By  J.  W.  Watson, 
delphia :  T.  B.  Peterson  &  Bros. 

The   National   Chorus  Bo 
Compiled  by  L.  0.  Emerson, 
ton :  0.  Ditson  &  Co. 

Strange  Disooteries  Re 
ING  the  Axtrora.  By  R.  a.  ] 
Boston :  Lee  &  Shepard.     Pamp 

Dogs  and  their  Doikos. 
Rev.  F.  0.  Morris.  New  YoA : 
per&  Bros. 

Hallam*s    Middle  Ages. 
tered  by  Wm.  Smith.    New  T^ 
Harper  &  Bros. 

Two  Sermons.    By  Rev.  T.I 
Woolsey.    New  Haven :  0.  C.  ( 
field  &  Co. 

The  Elementary  Music  ] 
By  B.  Upson.    New  Haven:  Oil 
Chatfield  &  Co. 

Southern  Voices.      By  W. 
Holcombe,  M.D.    Philadelphia :  J.I 
Lippincott  &  Co. 

Half-Hours  with  Modebn  f 
ENTiSTS.     Huxley,  Barker,  St 
Cope,  Tyndall.     New  Haven:  CL] 
Chatfield  &  Co. 


Hecorb  of  ]progre90. 


HABVARD  COLLEGE. 

Iir  the  "  Commencement  Number  " 
"Old  and  New,"  published  in 
iy  last,  and  in  Dr.  Walker's  and 
Emerson's  report  on  Harvard 
kge,  published  two  years  ago,*  our 
iders  have  found  full  account  of 
general  arrangement  of  the 
thod  of  instruction  there.  Side 
fide  with  the  very  great  increase 
its  endowments  and  of  the  num- 
of  its  undergraduate  pupils, 
ne  has  gone  on  an  enlargement  of 
privilege  of  "electing"  studies, 
h  gives  to  the  various  methods 
the  college  peculiar  interest 
Kmg  all  persons  interested  in  in- 
ion.  It  is  therefore  a  pleasure 
08  to  be  able  to  meet  that  interest 
^presenting  to  the  public  the  im- 
nt  parts  of  the  annual  report  on 
college,  just  now  presented  by 
Examining  Committee  to  the 
Ittseers. 

leaders  who  are  not  familiar  with 

administration  of   this    college, 

fy  need  to  be  informed  that  Har- 

td  College  is  one  of  several  institu- 

Hs,   which    are   grouped    together 

|Her  the  general  name  of  "  the  Uni- 

jtoity;"  while  the   government  of 

»  college  administers  them  all.     A 

mrd   of  Overseers,   chosen  by   the 

DODDi    themselves,    to    serve     five 

1  Old  snd  New,  toI.  t.  p.  7S. 


years,  has  a  general  oversight  of  the 
college,  a  negative  on  all  appoint- 
ments in  it,  and  must  approve  all  its 
statutes.  A  board  of  trustees  known 
as  "the  Corporation "  manages  the 
financial  interests  of  the  college, 
makes  the  appointments  and  the 
statutes.  The  College  Faculty,  made 
up  of  the  professors,  is  the  working 
body  in  the  government,  and  to  sug- 
gestions from  within  this  body  are 
the  recent  improvements  in  disci- 
pline and  education  largely  due. 

The  Board  of  Overseers  annually 
elects  a  large  sub-committee,  whose 
duty  it  is  to  examine  the  several  de- 
partments of  the  college.  Their  re- 
port, of  which  we  now  print  the  parts 
interesting  to  general  readers,  was 
presented  to  the  Board  of  Overseers 
at  its  last  regular  meeting.  The  re- 
port is  drawn  by  Hon.  Samuel  Eliot, 
late  President  of  Trinity  College, 
Hartford. 


ORGANIZATION. 

The  first  work  of  the  committee 
was  to  obtain  the  appointment  of 
additional  members ;  their  next,  to 
organize  themselves  in  sub-commit- 
tees as  follows :  — 

/.  On  English,  —  Charles  Francis 
Adams,  Chairman.  Richard  H. 
Dana,  jr.,     George  B.  Chase. 


I 


110 


Harvard  College. 


IT.  On  Philosophy/,  including  P(h 
littntl  Economy  and  Uistarij. — Jamos 
Willi; tT,  Cliainnan.  James  F»  Clarke, 
Wiiliam  Eiidicott,  jr.,  AuguBtua 
Lowell,  Artluir  G.  Sedgwick. 

///.   On  Maihentatl'C^  and  Physics. 

—  Tbeodoro  Lymau,  Cimirman. 
Henry  Wheatland,  Arthur  T.  Ly- 
man, John  C  Palfrey. 

IV,  On  Greek  and  Latin*  —  Sam- 
uel Eh'ot,  Chairman.  Alpheus  Cros- 
by, Epes  S,  Dixwell^  Charles  P. 
Grt'enough,  Robert  II.  Bancroft, 

F.  Oti  Modem  Languages.  — 
Samuel  Elioti  Chairman.  H»  W. 
Emerson,  Charles  F,  Bradford,  T. 
Je  ffi*  rsou  C  iKj]  id  go . 

VL  Oil  the  Courses  of  Study j,  iu' 
dud i tig  fenns  of  AdmisMon.- —  Sam- 
uel Eliot,  Alpheus  Crosby,  and 
Augiistua  Lowell. 

FII.  On  the  DlselpUne^  Bxpenst*St 
and  fhallh  of  the    Undergraduates. 

—  James  Walker,  E.  S.  Bixwell,  and 
A.  G,  Sedgwick* 

THE    YEAK's    work. 

The  catalogue  and  other  docu- 
ments sliovv  a  total  of  forty  instnict- 
ovs  and  six  hundred  and  eight 
g tilde nta  in  the  Academical  I^epart- 
nient.  *  Of  the  instrnetorj*,  three 
were  en^ai^ed  in  English,  or  rhetoric 
and  o nit o ry  ;  eight  in  philosophy, 
politit-al  economy  and  history;  tliir- 
teeu  in  matliematics  and  physiics; 
nine  in  Greek  and  Latin,  and  si^ven 
in  modern  iLiuguagea, 

OnSKRVATIONS. 

Upon  the  exercises  attended  by 
the  committee,  few  general  remarks 
are  called  for.  Lectures  and  recita- 
tion hi  are  employed  in  due  |UN:i|H>rtion, 
and  recitations  are  seldom  yiiaccora- 
panied  by  comment  or  oral  instrnc- 
tton.     Every  instructor  has  bis  own 

*  Hy  tlil»  phrase  U  moant  Uarv&r<!  OoLlrge«  a« 
d^Nitnct  from  the  Qihcr  dcpartmeutd  of  ibe  Unlver* 


way  of   teaching,   but  the 
drift  18  concurrent,  and  io  the 
direction.     Wo  regretted  to  ob 
in  some  instances,  that  the  hou 
not  fully  occupied.      One  reci| 
was  brought  to  a  close  in  tbir 
minutes ;  but  this  wa.s  of  con 
ceptionaL     Now  that  the  cla 
so  large,  and  the  sections  so  full 
entire  hour  is  often  insufficient 
ticalarly  to  any  earnest  teacher,  | 
Upi>n  the  **  examinations ''  thi 
something   more   to   say,     Not 
because    they    show    the    coma 
more   clearly   how   far   the  st 
have  advanced,  but  also,  and 
cially,    because    they    appear 
gradually  taking  the  place  of 
tiona  in  respect  to  marks,  and  i 
(juently   in    the    estimation    of 
students.     The  overeieers   are 
that  examiaatbus  occur  not  on 
the  close  of  the  year,  but  throuj 
the    course,  fortnightly,  monthlj 
otherwise.      Instead    of    markijl 
recitation,  several  of  the   inst 
now  reserve  their  marks  for  thd 
ami  nation  ;  and   even    those  whfl 
not,  have  much  higher  marks  to^ 
for  an  examination  than  for  tk 
tion.    There  is  no  reason,  in  our  ^ 
ion^  to  object  to  this  change, 
contrary,  whatever  tends  to  le«se4 
sulijection  once  existing  to  the 
system    calls   for  frank   appr 
But  any  departure  from  it  ev 
calls  for  certain    precautions, 
of    the    committee    thought    tl« 
larger     proportion      than      foro 
among  the  students  reported 
selves  unprepared  to  recite,  as  if  1 
attached    less    importance    to 
recitations.     The  examination 
show  more  palpable  signs  of  crammic 
a    mode   of    preparation    so    fraug 
witli  wretched  consei^ueuces,  both 
and  ont  of  college^  as  to  require 
the  checks  that  can  be  put   opooi 


112 


Harvard  College. 


: 


compeHtion  for  the  Lee  prizeB,  which 
are  ten  in  number,  and  are  awarded 
to  nif^mhera  of  the  freshman  class 
for  excellence  in  reading  aloud  Eng- 
lish prose.  The  committee  observe 
that  *^  the  efforts  of  the  picked  fresh- 
men who  competed  indicated,  as  it 
seeme^l,  iust ruction  at  once  insuffi- 
cient and  faulty."  Here,  as  in  rela- 
tion to  the  examination  papers,  we 
would  suggest  two  expedients :  1,  a 
notice  that  proficiency  in  reading  is 
among  the  requisites  for  admission, 
2,  better  instruction  in  reading  dur- 
ing the  freshman  year.  To  the 
latter  end,  we  recommend  the  early 
appointment  of  an  assistant  professor 
of  elocution. 

The  themes  sent  for  perusal  were 
regarded  as  decidedly  inferior  to  those 
of  tVirmer  years.  They  have  passed 
from  the  supervision  of  the  Boylston 
Professor  to  that  of  the  Assistant 
Professor  of  Ehetoric,  their  number 
being  diminished  to  only  fifteen  dur- 
ing the  entire  course.  The  commit- 
tee lay  stress  ujjon  these  facts*  as 
peculiarly  meriting  consideration. 

Forennics  have  hitherto  belonged 
to  the  department  of  philosophy,  the 
committee  on  which  report  that  those 
submitted  for  inspection  appear  to 
have  been  prepared  with  a  good  deal 
of  care  and  ability.  Four  were  re* 
quired  from  juniors,  and  four  from 
seniors.  It  is  uuderi^tood  that  foren- 
fiics,  as  such»  have  this  year  died 
what  is  called  at  Ciimbridge  '*  a  natu- 
ral death,''  and  that  themes  alone 
are  to  survive  under  the  charge  of 
the  English  department. 

The  elective  courses  in  English 
may  be  described  in  the  words  of  the 
Boylston  Professor,  who  has  them  in 
charge.  '*  Of  the  three  courses  of- 
fered by  me,  only  one  was  taken,  and 
that  by  a  section  of  fotir.  Three  of 
the   four  had  already  studied  Anglo- 


Saxon  and  Early  English 
and  were  well  prepiired  for 
studies.  The  fourth  soon  fom 
he  was  not  qualified  to  go 
the  others;  and  to  meet  Ida 
constituted  another  section, 
the  accession  of  a  couple  ofl 
teers  was  made  three.  The 
tion  hatl  three  lessons  a  wi 
second  two.'*  "  I  also  read  U 
of  Shakspeare  in  twenty  ev«i 
a  volunteer  class  of  seniors." 

No  general  instruction  in  d 
tion  has  been  given  during  tl| 
"  I  am  convinced,"  say»  the 
ProfessoFt  "  that  declamatiou 
less,  and  that  ehx-ution  can 
auccessfully  taught  to  a  larg^ 
The  Academical  Committee*  n 
ing  this  conviction,  repeat  th 
mendation  already  given  tha^ 
mat  ion  be  restored. 

Three  3^ears  ago,  the  presei 
reported  upon  the  English 
ment  as  follows :  **  It  is  forti 
having  a  professor  entirely  ^ 
to  give  it  a  leading  place  in 
lego  course.  But  it  has  heel 
tunate  in  being  so  closely  liei 
by  other  departments  as  to  It 
comparatively  little  opporttt 
training  the  studenta  as 
scholars*  English  (idclndi 
course,  American )  litenituw 
to  bo  one  of  the  chief  studioi 
university ;  and  we  may  b 
the  day  is  not  far  distant 
will  be." 

That  day  seems  farther 
now  than  when  these  wo; 
written.  *'  One  thing  is  certf 
the  committee  on  this  depj 
*'  that  there  has  been  no  imp  J 
in  it."  It  is  due  to  the  fsi 
state,  that  provision  has  bee 
for  including  rhetoric  as  a 
stuHy  of  the  ensuing  year,  th 
claaa  having  two  hours  a 


ffarvard  College. 


113 


Tear  with  the  Bojlston  Pro- 
rhis  is  a  change  for  the  bet- 
we  welcome  it  with  cordial 
ion.  *•  But  it  is  the  duty 
•mmittee/'  continue  our  asso- 
frankly  to  express  the  con- 
hat  no  remedy  for  the  gen- 
ipromising  state  of  the  de- 
will  be  effective,  which  is 
leasure  radical.  .  .  .  It  is  not 
to  imply  any  want  of  fidelity 
upon  whom  the  duties  of 
irtment  hare  been  imposed, 
it.  It  is  believed  that  they 
nplished  scholars,  and  per- 
>nscientious  in  acquitting 
?s  of  their  obligations  in 
r  of  viewing  them.  If  the 
of  the  University  appears 
^mand  a  more  extended  con- 
of  duty  than  has  heretofore 
arded  as  essential,  it  is  not 
^rged  as  a  fault  to  them  if 
lot  appreciate  the  necessity 
bange.  While  every  thing 
be  done  to  insure  excellence 
tact  and  pliysical  sciences, 
iiinute  criticism  of  ancient 
-i,  too  little  is  done  to  insure 
kiice  with  the  best  efforts 
Linkers,  the  best  styles  of 
lasters,  and  the  most  finished 
<  of  celebrated  speakers  of 
In  performance  of  their 
,  the  committee  cannot  sup- 
'  opinion,  that,  in  contrast 
^t  other  branches  of  educa- 
the  University,  this  one  is 
»o  i»rogross  whatever.'' 
iggested  by  a  member  of  the 
e  who  has  taken  especial 
n  the  matter,  that  honors  be 
'  distinction  in  this  depart- 
i  that  an  Honor  section  be 
:  the  beginning  of  the  senior 
•  the  purpose  of  writing 
r  other  exercises  under  the 
e  supervision  of  the  Boyl- 
• 


ston  Professor.  We  also  earnestly 
advise  that  the  number  of  themes 
required  from  all  the  students  be 
gradually,  if  not  instantly,  increased, 
until  every  undergraduate  has  none 
but  himself  to  blame  for  want  of 
proficiency  in  English  style.  But 
this  alone  will  not  fill  out  the  fair 
proportions  of  the  English  depart- 
ment. It  should  train  its  students 
in  speaking,  especially  before  their 
companions,  in  whose  presence  they 
will  more  or  less  rapidly  learn  to 
surmount  the  excitement  inseparable 
from  such  an  effort,  and  to  acquire  a 
calm  control  of  memory  and  other 
faculties  to  be  used  through  life. 
Above  all,  it  should  train  them  in 
thinking,  not  by  logical  or  philosophi- 
cal, but  by  literary  processes,  by  the 
study  of  our  great  writers,  and  by 
the  appreciation  of  every  intellectual 
quality  that  makes  them  great  For 
all  this  we  plead  in  justice  to  the 
college  as  well  as  to  her  sons.  If 
they  enter  upon  active  life  untrained 
to  think  well,  speak  well,  and  write 
well,  the  loss  is  not  only  theirs  but 
hers. 

2.  Philosophi/. 

Under  this  head  are  grouped  vari- 
ous studies  besides  philosophy  proper. 

The  required  studies  have  been 
philosophy,  includinp^  logic  and  po- 
litical economy,  taught  by  the  Assist- 
ant Professor  of  Philosophy ;  and 
the  Constitution  of  the  United  States, 
taught  by  an  instructor  to  the  juniors; 
mediaeval  history,  by  the  University 
Professor,  to  the  sophomores;  ethics 
and  evidences  by  the  Plummer  Pro- 
fessor, to  the  freshmen. 

The  elective  studies  have  been 
eleven  in  all.  Oat  of  a  senior  class 
numbering  one  h  undred  and  fifty-seven 
at  the  close  of  the  year,  twenty-six 
took  one  course  and  four  another  in 
philosophy,  with  the  Alford  Profea- 


114 


Harvard  College. 


§or;  eighteen  a  course  in  ethics, 
with  the  Plummer  Professor ;  niuety- 
nine  a  couris^e  in  political  economy^ 
with  the  instructor  iu  that  branch ; 
forty-five  a  course  in  history,  from 
the  end  of  the  Middle  Ages  to  1648, 
with  the  ftSifi^^taut  profe8§or;  forty- 
seven  a  course  in  constitutional  his- 
tory, and  seventy-five  a  course  in 
modern  history  and  international 
law,  with  the  McLean  Professor  j  — 
seven  courses  with  Jive  instructors. 
The  juniors,  one  hundred  and  nineteen 
in  number,  had  four  courjiea  open  to 
their  choice,  one  of  the  four  being 
the  same  as  the  second  senior  conrsa 
in  philosophy;  and  this  was  elected 
by  one  junior;  seventy-two  elected 
philosophy  under  the  Alford  Profes- 
sor; thirteen  the  general  history  of 
Europe ;  and  forty-two  medioBval  his- 
tory, under  the  Assistant  ProfV^ssor 
of  History. 

Of  one  hundred  and  thirty-eight 
sophomnrei*,  thirty-one  elected  a  course 
in  philosophy,  the  same  as  the  re- 
quired junior  course,  under  the  Assist- 
ant Professor  of  Philosophy. 

The  uamus  of  twenty-three  seniors 
appear  on  the  last  commencement 
programme  as  having  obtained  spe- 
cial honors*  Three  achieved  this  dis- 
tinction in  philosophy  proper ;  seven 
in  hi.story. 

The  committee  on  this  department 
report  that  its  general  condition  is 
satisfactory.  "In  this,"  they  say, 
'*as  in  others,  the  elective  system  has 
increased  the  interest,  as  well  as 
afforded  an  opportunity  to  pursue  the 
preierred  studies  to  a  much  greater 
degree  of  perfection,"  But  all 
branches  of  this  department  are  not 
equally  flouri.shing. 

The  Alford  Professor  continues  to 
give  all  the  higher  instruction  in 
metaphysics^  His  lectures  on  the 
history  of  philosophy  are  coiumeDded ; 


their  object  appearing  to  be,  i 
much  to  impress  any  special  vi€ 

the  lecturer^  as  to  enable  the 
to  understand  the  masters  of  tl 
in  themselves,  and  in  their  rel( 
to  one   another.     Ethics   are 
by  the  Plammer  Professor  to  i 
tive  section  of  seniors  and  the  ^ 
freshman   class.      He  is    the 
adviser  of  all  the  undergra<laa 
virtue  of  his  office  as  preacher  1 
University,  and  his  discharge  * 
duty  so  delicate  and   reqionsil 
much  approved  by  the  coramitto 

[The  sub-corn m it tt?(s  on  thisi 
ment  then  go  into  some  detaile 
cussion  of  the  method  of  insti 
in  this  department     They  call  \ 
tion  to  the  curious  variety  of  i 
forced  upon    one  instructor, 
sistant  Professor.     He  is  requin 
toach  metaphysics,  logic,  and  ; 
economy-    The  work  of  the  studa 
their  written  examinations  is 
of  as  more  satisfactory  than  th 
tlie  recitation -room.     After  discil 
*n  some  detail  the  method  pur 
the  recitation-rooms  and  in  the  I 
inatious  conducted  by  written  I 
tions,  the  report  then  continuesJ 

Psychological    studies    cami 
said  to  rank   very  high   amo 
They  are  neither  taught  by  as  \ 
teachers,    nor   studied    by    as 
students,  as  they  might   be ; 
they   seem   to    excite  that   infl 
among  those  engaged  in  them,  \ 
should  be  felt  in  questions  intei 
every    generation    of   educated  I 
When  we  are  told  that  forenMCl 
died   out ;   when    we    tind    thai 
recitations  a  week  for  half  th4 
demic    year  in    Champlin*s 
Principles  of  Ethics,"  and  Bull 
**  Evidences  of  Oliristianity,*' 
tute  the  introduction  of  the 
class  to  these  great  realms  of  1 
and  inquiry ;  when  we  see  < 


Harvard  College. 


115 


purporty  we  confess  that  we 
[  to  ask  for  a  reyival  of  psy- 

elective,  political  economy 
ht  to  a  numerous  senior 
V  a  special  instructor.  He 
L   the    committee   as  heiug 

successful,  but  not  giving 

attention  to  the  economic 
now  before  the  country, 
economy  deserves  a  better 
in  the  college.  It  has  at 
ined  a  professor  of  its  own, 
rs  upon  his  labors  with  the 
ear.  But  we  should  be  un- 
e  in  expecting  from  a  single 

with  only  partial  help  from 
int,  all  the  training  in  this 
rhich   six  hundred  students 

It  is  taught  by  four  teachers 
iversity  of  Berlin ;  and  there 
?  an  even  greater  number 
B  it  proportioned  to  the  cry- 
sities  of  our  people.  Public 
ite  welfare,  principles  not 
iterial  but  of  moral  bearing, 
>f  the  State,  the  family,  and 
iJual,  the  union  of  classes, 
enance  of  peace  and  honor, 
>f  ndent,  humanly  speaking, 
mii^tery  of  economic  science, 
»pIication  to  the  experiences 
rhich  this  nation  is  called  to 

storical  division  of  this  de- 
can  be  described  in  warm 
S^o  part  of  the  college 
t  of  the  physical  sciences, 
improved  so  much  as  the 
n  in  history.  We  wish  it 
more  of  American  history, 
h  our  students  are  far  less 
ban  it  .is  good  for  them  to 
our  general  impressions  are 
ible.  Two  elective  senior 
o  over  a  wide  range  of  sub- 
rr  the  guidance  of  the  Mc- 
\teisotf  whose  teachings  are 


full  of  interest  and  benefit  to  his 
pupils.  The  time  of  the  University 
Professor  is  mostly  engrossed  by  his 
functions  as  dean  of  the  college 
faculty;  but  he  is  able  to  introduce 
the  undergraduates  to  their  historical 
studies  by  beginning  upon  mediaeval 
history  with  the  sophomores.  The 
assistant  professor  has  three  elective 
sections,  one  of  seniors  and  two  of 
juniors,  in  medieval  and  modem  his- 
tory ;  in  teaching  which  he  pursued  a 
method,  partly  of  reading,  partly  of 
questioning,  which  finds  favor  with 
the  members  of  the  committee  at- 
tending his  exercises.  "  The  teacher^" 
they  observe,  "  evidently  relies  on  his 
power  to  awake  an  interest  in  his 
questions  as  the  chief  incitement  to 
study.  As  there  are  some  in  every 
class  who  are  not  likely  to  be  reached 
by  this  motive,  we  were  not  surprised 
to  learn  from  his  returns,  that  seve- 
ral had  failed  to  pass  their  examina- 
tions. But  for  a  large  proportion  of 
the  students,  the  method,  in  the  pro- 
fessor's hands,  is  in  active  success." 

The  instructor  in  the  Constitution 
of  the  United  States,  a  member  of 
the  Boston  bar,  has  l>een  very  success- 
ful with  his  pupils.  "  The  importance 
of  the  study  can  hardly  be  over-esti- 
mated," as  the  committee  remarked ; 
"  while  it  is  taught  as  at  present,  they 
have  nothing  to  suggest." 

3.  Mathematics  and  Physics. 

This  department  includes  chemistry 
and  natural  history. 

Special  honors  in  this  department 
were  obtained  by  one  senior  in 
mathematics,  two  in  physics,  and  six 
in  natural  history. 

Mathematical  instruction  is  given 
to  freshmen,  that  is,  to  those  with 
whom  mathematics  is  a  required 
study,  chiefly  in  recitations ;  to  other 
classes,  with  whom  the  study  is  elec- 


116 

of  iLc*  cmmmsaK-  iieoex 

miiidi  «if  itif  lac  aro^ :  muc  ais  s 
belier€«d  i^  W  i&MDr  fdniKSL.     Fir 
f^cb  mizid.  hv 

Thejr  rn^si  iiH^sm-  -oxbil.  if  jc  iJL  ^ 
slower  piwK:aiie&.  Vr  vaZcatc  «r  vr 
di mining.  s.'C  ^t  nasrstr:  JOiIiir'awn! 
there  «tezns  t>  W  xii^uitfc  stMuigiuBi' 
piorision.  Tbe  ^itaair.iswt'  <a  i^ 
departmen;  f:a2:wc  iJxu  Mie=acrT« 
geomctiT  i^MQji  ^le  indhiSfii  ±l  -^ktt 
pxogmnme.  A5  juc  &ih3Gs»rfi  jcucr.  3»» 
braDcb  oi  m^hcTSiiZJca-  3i>  3D:ce  j.^psu 
or  heiuiifn];  «bi>  is  Jui  jc^esxtl 

lise  of  drxwin^  \«-  :2m-  liinKtbMa  ^ 
niecbanics  i*  i$  ^  diijr  «kt>ml 

In  pbrsicjs.  tbe  ffcoi  wvr^  4iir  pn^- 
Tious  Tears  ^-^e^  os  un^ier  i^  H.'ilif 
and  As«i»:ai2:  IV.  cVa».«w  Were-  we  to 
take  aiiv  exoep::>n  10  i«  we  s^jiGjnI 

tlie   fiv>hinan   vvjrse,  wi;:h,    ;*r:-c 

ly  on  miiiJs  und::ei  for  pbr>iOAi 
j'n.«blem<.  l>u:  the  course,  aiS  a  whv-Ie, 
givcs  evidence  of  exvvllrs:  ie;whing 
ari-j  a  fair  amount  of  leArnini:. 

(.'hemistry  has  been  escieniiy 
taugh :  a?  heretofore.  The  50pbonK>res 
Were  introduced  to  the  science  by 
assistants;  the  juniors  and  seniors 
w«-r».'  led  fon*-ard  by  the  Erring 
Pr>:Vrii»*ir.  From  nrst  to  last,  the 
hti;iefit  had  the  benedt  not  only  of 
recitations  and  lectures,  butof  experi- 
ni'rntH  and  practical  exeicises  in  the 
laboratory . 

Qualitative  analysis  was  studied 
by  th<5  junior  section.  Quantitative 
aiialyHii*,  intnxluced  this  year  for  the 
firnt  time,  by  the  seniors.      We  ob- 


icsanuiT  and  expcnoMoftall] 
P&rsaeil  geognph j  and 
gtioAAgr  veie  tui^t   to  Aa^ 
»L««!^  Willi  nfeienoe  to  their  ] 
iMa  iot  ihe  nanual  hiatoiy 
vf  ibe  higher  classes 
jt&icv'Cii^^gy.    taken    by    a 
<-f   toiJi    senion  and   junioii^ 
^ugbt  at  the  Museum  of  ' 
tire   ZodjogT.     No  text-books 
us«d:  but  the  professors 
to  ac>)uaint  his  pupils  with  ths  I 
mU  of  the  namralist,  and  to  i 
them  to  interrogate  phen 
thenisielresL     The  general  < 
the  history  of   these 
some  of  the  masterpieces  of 
them,  were  introduced  into  ths  1 
part  of  the  course.     In 
with    it,    a    section    in    mie 
was  taught  by  a  special 
Some  drawbacks,  from  want 
and    suitable    arrangementay 
have  embarrassed  the 
past  year,  will  be  removed  tin 
On  the  other  hand,  adTmntagsi 
been  derived  from    the  rem 


Harvard  CoUege. 


117 


the  Mosenm  of  Compara- 
y.  The  building  has  been 
larged  as  to  afford  space 
idy-tables,  which  are  fully 
rith  specimens  ^m  the 
ions  of  the  museum, 
until  lately  confined  to  the 
ss«  is  now  taught  to   the 

classes.  A  section  of 
ostly  intending  to  enter 
d  profession,  received  in- 
rom  lectures  and  in  the 
kboratory.  A  smaller  sec- 
iors  was  trained  in  similar 
The  proposed  addition  to 
-ium  building,  mentioned 
rt  of  our  predecessors,  has 
1.  and  will  soon  be  com- 
nnding  for  forty  students 
>ratorj,  and  one  hundred 
re-room.  This  new  struc- 
lected  with  the  old  conser- 

hot-house  for  orchids  and 

ion  taken  by  the  physical 
ing  the  present  generation, 
•ct  upon  every  branch  of 
ifjht,  have  given  them  an 
V  rank  in  education.     The 

not  only  accepted  the 
une  much  to  establish  it. 
ic  department  is  generally 
ndition.      With   a   larger 

instructors  than  in  any 
:ment :  with  numerous  and 
ections,  most  of  the  elec- 
>t  in  mathematics,  being 
en  ;  with  a  consciousness 

not  only  in  its  own  re- 
it  in  the  sympathy  of 
1  its  pursuits,  it  is  emi- 
orous      and     progressive. 

that  as  science  flourishes, 
hings  may  be  quickened 
ed. 

Treek  and  Latin, 
studies  in  these  languages 


faU  to  the  lot  of  freshmen  alone. 
Messrs.  Everett  and  Smith,  tutors  in 
Latin,  each  took  half  the  class,  ex- 
changing halves  in  the  middle  of  the 
year. 

Each  of  the  other  classes  was  pro- 
vided with  electives  in  classics. 

Four  seniors  obtained  special  honors 
in  the  ancient  languages. 

The  statistics  for  the  year  show 
that  the  number  of  those  electing 
Greek  and  Latin  diminishes  with 
each  year  of  the  college  course.  A 
great  majority  of  sophomores,  less 
than  a  half  in  Latin  and  a  third  in 
Greek  of  juniors,  less  than  a  fourth 
in  Latin  and  a  fifth  in  Greek  of 
seniors.  These  fractions  will  indi- 
cate the  scale  in  point  of  numbers, 
but  not  necessarily  in  point  of  labors. 
The  committee  were  as  much  struck 
with  the  discreditable  appearance  of 
the  sophomores,  that  is,  of  many 
among  them,  as  with  the  creditable 
appearance  of  the  junior  and  senior 
sections.  "  Errors  which  would  dis- 
grace a  school-boy,"  as  one  of  our 
number  phrases  it,  were  common 
among  the  more  numerous  sections 
of  the  sophomores.  They  seemed  to 
be  uninterested,  generally  unprepared, 
and,  in  many  cases,  getting  through 
their  recitations  with  more  effrontery 
than  capacity.  The  juniors  and 
seniors,  with  exceptions  of  course, 
showed  a  very  different  order  of  work, 
and  appeared  to  us  to  reach  as  high  a 
degree  of  scholarship  as  can  be  reason- 
ably expected  among  undergni<luates. 
These  facts,  if  correctly  stated,  go 
very  far  towards  proving  the  soun«l- 
ness  of  the  elective  system,  especially 
when  extended  over  several  successive 
years.  Sophomores  elect  Greek  and 
Latin  the  more  readily  and  the  more 
numerously  because  they  are  fresh  iu 
both  languages,  and  think  the  pursuit 
comparatively  easy.     It  is  only  those 


i 


116 


Harvard  College. 


tive,  chieflj  in  lectures.  Theae  lec- 
tures were  thought  hj  the  members 
of  the  committee  Jiearing  them,  to  be 
well  a4iapted  to  develop  mathematical 
minds  of  the  first  order;  and  tbia  Is 
believed  to  be  their  object  For  one 
aucb  mind,  however,  there  are  twenty 
others  of  less  ability,  but  altogether 
competent  to  derive  pleasure  as  well  aa 
advantage  from  matliematical  pursuits. 
They  must  foHuw  them,  if  at  all,  by 
slower  processes,  by  walking  or  by 
cHiubiug,  not  by  soaring ;  and  for  them 
there  seems  to  be  rather  inadequate 
provision.  The  committee  on  this 
department  suggest  that  descriptive 
geometry  ahoultl  be  included  in  the 
programme.  As  an  abstract  study,  no 
branch  of  mathematics  is  more  logical 
or  beautiful ;  while  in  all  practical 
atfairs  involviug  the  construction  or 
U3e  of  drawings,  or  the  direction  of 
mechanics,  it  is  of  daily  service. 

In  physics,  the  good  work  of  pre- 
vious years  goes  on  under  the  Hollis 
and  Assistant  Professors,  Were  we  to 
take  any  exception  to  it,  we  should 
suggest  the  simplitication  of  parts  of 
the  freshman  course,  which,  being 
required,  ought  not  to  bear  too  hard- 
ly on  mi  nils  uniitted  for  physical 
{>Tohlenjs»  But  the  course^  as  a  whole, 
gives  evidence  of  excellent  teaching 
and  a  fair  amount  of  learning. 

Chemistry  has  been  efficiently 
t  au  gh  t  as  h  e  re  to  fore .  T  h  e  sop  hom  ore  s 
were  introduced  to  the  science  by 
assistants;  the  juniora  and  seniors 
were  led  forward  by  the  Erviog 
Pro  lessor.  Froai  lirst  to  last,  the 
student  had  the  henetit  not  only  of 
recitations  and  lecturea,  but  of  experi- 
ments and  practical  exercises  in  the 
laboratory. 

Qualitative  analysis  was  studied 
hy  the  junior  section.  Quantitative 
analysis,  introduced  this  year  for  the 
Erst  time,  by  the  seniors.      We  ob- 


lige, k 
itieBi 


serve  with  plesksure  the  di: 
the  Er\^ing  Professor  to  gn 
pupils  upward  from  the  knowlej 
special  facta  to  that  of  general 
If  scientific  training  is  to  hai 
scope  in  a  collegiate  course,  k 
be  samething  morethauexi 
tive.  Its  practical  value  is 
moment;  its  details  and 
tiotis  are  full  of  opportunitieB 
velop  observation  and  jud| 
But  its  great  theories,  its  han 
of  nature,  its  iHustratious 
deuces  of  creative  power, 
the  mind  a  higher  swoep, 
the  man  for  a  hroader  and 
life.  The  senior  course  in 
chemistry  was  purely  theorem 
emhriiced  many  of  the  transeen 
questions  of  modem  science 
cal  physics  were  taught 
retically  and  experimentally. 

Physical  geography  and 
geology  were  taught    to 
mores  with  reference  to  their 
tiou  for  the  natural  history 
of  the  higher  classes, 
paleontology,    taken    by    a 
of  both    seniors  and    juaii 
taught  at  the  Museum  of 
tive   Zoology.     Ko  text- 
used;  but  the  pr^j feasors 
to  acquaint  his  pupils  with 
oda  of  the  naturalist,  and  to 
them    to  interrogate  phenol 
themselves.     The  general  ou^ 
tlie   history   of    these   sciei 
some  of  the  masterpieces  o 
them,  were  introduced  iato 
part  of  the   course.     In   c 
with    it,    a    aection    iu    a 
was   taught  by  a  special  i 
Some  drawbacks,  from  w: 
and    suitable    arrangement 
have  embarrassed  ihe  pro! 
paat  year,  will  be  removed 
On  the  other  hand,  adv^nti 
been  derived   from    the  ri 


Harvard  College. 


117 


the  Mosemn  of  Compara- 
gy.  The  boildiog  has  been 
nlarged  as  to  afford  space 
mdy-tableSy  which  are  fully 
with  specimeas  ^m  the 
rtions  of  the  museum. 
'y  until  lately  confined  to  the 
lass,  is  now  taught  to  the 
er  classes.  A  section  of 
mostly  intending  to  enter 
ical  profession,  received  in- 
from  lectures  and  in  the 
laboratory.  A  smaller  sec- 
aniors  was  trained  in  similar 
The  proposed  addition  to 
>arium  building,  mentioned 
port  of  our  predecessors,  has 
pin,  and  will  soon  be  com- 
proriding  for  forty  students 
iboratory,  and  one  hundred 
ture-room.  This  new  struc- 
»nnected  with  the  old  conser- 
r  a  hot-house  for  orchids  and 
nts. 

isition  taken  by  the  physical 
uring  the  present  generation, 
•ffeet  upon  every  branch  of 
lought,  have  given  them  an 
lew  rank  in  education.  The 
las  not  only  accepted  the 
done  much  to  establish  it, 
ititic  department  is  generally 
condition.  With  a  larger 
of  instructors  than  in  any 
artment;  with  numerous  and 
1  sections,  most  of  the  elec- 
::ept  in  mathematics,  being 
aken  ;  with  a  consciousness 
th  not  only  in  its  own  re- 
but in  the  sympathy  of 
rith  its  pursuits,  it  is  emi- 
rigorous  and  progressive. 
ast  that  as  science  flourishes, 
d  things  may  be  quickened 
i  plied. 

-  Greek  and  Latin. 

ad  studies  in  these  languages 


fall  to  the  lot  of  freshmen  alone. 
Messrs.  Everett  and  Smith,  tutors  in 
Latin,  each  took  half  the  class,  ex- 
changing halves  in  the  middle  of  the 
year. 

Each  of  the  other  classes  was  pro- 
vided with  electives  in  classics. 

Four  seniors  obtained  special  honors 
in  the  ancient  languages. 

The  statistics  for  the  year  show 
that  the  number  of  those  electing 
Greek  and  Latin  diminishes  with 
each  year  of  the  college  course.  A 
great  majority  of  sophomores,  less 
than  a  half  in  Latin  and  a  third  in 
Greek  of  juniors,  less  than  a  fourth 
in  Latin  and  a  fifth  in  Greek  of 
seniors.  These  fractions  will  indi- 
cate the  scale  in  point  of  numbers, 
but  not  necessarily  in  point  of  labors. 
The  committee  were  as  much  struck 
with  the  discreditable  appearance  of 
the  sophomores,  that  is,  of  many 
among  them,  as  with  the  creditable 
appearance  of  the  junior  and  senior 
sections.  "  Errors  which  would  dis- 
grace a  school-boy,"  as  one  of  our 
number  phrases  it,  were  common 
among  the  more  numerous  sections 
of  the  sophomores.  They  seemed  to 
be  uninterested,  generally  unprepared, 
and,  in  many  cases,  getting  through 
their  recitations  with  more  effrontery 
than  capacity.  The  juniors  and 
seniors,  with  exceptions  of  course, 
showed  a  very  different  order  of  work, 
and  appeared  to  us  to  reach  as  high  a 
degree  of  scholarship  as  can  be  reason- 
ably expected  among  undergraduates. 
These  facts,  if  correctly  stated,  go 
very  far  towards  proving  the  soun«l- 
ness  of  the  elective  system,  especially 
when  extended  over  several  successi\  e 
years.  Sophomores  elect  Greek  and 
Latin  the  more  readily  and  the  more 
numerously  because  they  are  fresh  iu 
both  languages,  and  think  the  pursuit 
comparatively  easy.     It  is  only  those 


I 


118 


Harvard  College. 


with   purpose  in  their  studies,  who 

t:ike  the  courses  of  the  higher  years, 
HFid  follow  tliem  with  equal  interest 
and  faithfulness.  Were  the  propor- 
tions to  det^Hiie  yet  farther,  and  were 
even  smtdk'r  numbers  of  juniors  and 
seniors  to  elect  the  ancient  languages 
tlian  at  present,  still,  if  they  were 
in  earnest,  and  the  results  of  their 
studies  as  grxKi  as,  if  not  better  than, 
tliojjie  now  attained,  there  would  be 
no  reason  ft*r  hunenting  the  condition 
of  classical  learning  for  the  college. 
The  quantity  might  be  inferior,  bat 
the  quality  would  not  be. 

Greek  and  Latin,  as  studies,  fare 
hut  ill  in  our  day.  Not  only  do  they 
pHJVoke  a  great  many  opixjnents,  but 
they  excite  conflicting  opinions  among 
their  support*.-rs.  One  lays  stress  up- 
on transilation,  another  upon  com- 
ment and  comparjison,  a  third  upon 
grammatical  and  technical  details. 
If  we  attempted  a  general  criticism 
of  the  work  in  this  department  of  the 
college,  we  ehould  venture  to  remark 
ujxm  the  want  of  literary  spirit. 
That  study  which  is  intent  upon  the 
book  to  be  retui,  more  than  upon  the 
gmmmar  or  dictionarv  ejnjdoyed  in 
reading  it;  thai  enthusj^iasm  which  is 
excitt'd  by  the  writers  themselves, 
their  characters  and  their  cireurastan- 
ces,  more  than  by  the  rules  and  excep- 
tions of  their  expounders ;  this  is 
what  we  misled  in  many,  not  in  all, 
of  the  exercises  we  attended.  We 
would  not  make  the  instruction  now 
given  less  scientific  but  more  liter- 
ary. Some  special  criticisms  may  be 
allowed.  The  catalogue  recommends 
candidates  for  admission  to  cultivate 
the  cautinentul  pronunciation  of 
Greek  and  Latin  ;  but  it  is  not  cul- 
ti^^ated  by  several  of  the  college  in- 
structors. 

Prosody  is  a  requisite  for  aiimisaion, 
but  somewiiat  neglected  afterwards, 


and  very  much  so  in  relation  to 
rical   or  rhythmical   readiug 
poets.     One  instructor  did  not  lit 
attempt  it  in  presence  of  a  men 
the  committee,  *'  because  the  cIj 
no  instruction  in  it,"     Comp 
philology   receives,    as     it  sho 
large  measure  of  attention ; 
most   important  branch  of  it 
students,  the  tracing  the  deft 
Englisli  words  from  the  older  t 
was  by  no  means  the  most  pr 
in  the  exercises  atteoided  by  th^ 
mittee,     We  touch  u[)on  theee^ 
not  as   salient,    but   as    app 
many  of  the  recitations  at  wh 
were  present. 

It  is  a  much  more  grateful 
acknowledge  tlie   merits  of 
partment.     They  are   n 
striking.     Most  of  the 
sections,  and  many  among  thej 
elective  and  the  required,  showj 
which  does  honor  to  them,  aa  ^ 
to  their  instructors.     Several 
younger   teachers  are  unusua 
cient ;  more  mature  and  more  i 
plished  than  any  similar  numi 
tutors  whom   we   can    recall, 
here,  it  may  be  propter  to  sugg 
an    assistant   professor   in 
apfKiinted,  in  order  to  give   tha 
of  the  house   itd   due   share 
demic  dignity.     Comparbon  ' 
Greek  side    and  with    other 
ments,  shows  the  justice  and 
pediency  of  such  an  appointma 

5.  Modern  Lanrjiiagei* ' 

There  are  two  required  ;   Fr 
the  freshman  year,  and  Germail| 
sophomore.      But    freshmen 
p  Deficient     in    French     are 
from     all     exercises    except 
nations.      The   study   of    the 
giiagea   is    somewhat    languid* J 
suffers  at  the  hands  not  only 
idle,  who  take  it  up  as  a  thing 


Harvard  College. 


119 


oeed  ofy  bat  even  of  the 
lo  regard  it  as  less  substan- 
;her  studies,  and  less  capa- 
anling  their  labors.  The 
not  encourage  a  high  es- 
it.  They  allot  a  scanty 
time  to  a  modem  lan- 
Uow  a  student  who  has  not 
le  to  elect  another  which, 
kbility,  he  will  equally  fail 

We  doubt,  also,  whether 
ions  against  his  taking  an 
tudy  in  some  of  these  Ian- 
as  strict  as  they  had  better 
I  events,  there  are  causes 
vhioh  the  languor  of  this 

can  be  ascribed,  without 
ag  to  reflect  upon  the  in- 

Their  competency  is  be- 
:ion,  save  on  the  single 
It  they  are  not  teaching 
language.  With  one  ex- 
:-y  are  Americans.     But  to 

we  are  not  disposed  to 
?     importance     sometimes 

it.  The  object  of  study- 
lem  language  in  college 
»/Dtly  to  read  it,  not  to 
rite  it,  a  native  teacher  is 
1 ;  not  even  for  the  pronun- 
hh  for  all  academic  pur- 
Ik.'  sufSciently  taught  by 
ilished  scholar.     "  My  im- 

^ays    a    member    of    the 

much  interested  in  this  de- 

*•  have     bi?en    strongly    in 

n^rican  teachers  in  foreign 

There    are    undoubtedly 

instances  of  exception. 
i  our  teachers  have  more 
liing.and  show  better  work. 
iijm  keen  in  appreciating 
md  difiiculties  of  their  pu- 
ave  the  great  advantage  of 
to  explain  more  clearly  in 
tongue.  They  know  from 
xperience  what  they  have 
Tome^  and  how  to  help  to 


overcome  the  same  obstacles  to  oth- 
ers." It  is  not,  therefore,  to  the  in- 
structors in  this  department  that  its 
want  of  vigor  can  be  attributed. 
What  it  needs  to  be  vigorous,  in  fact, 
to  be  real,  is  more  time ;  more  restric- 
tions upon  those  entering  or  leaving 
it ;  more  honors  to  those  who  can  win 
them ;  more  solid  results  in  culture  to 
those  who  can  attain  them.  A  move- 
ment recently  begun  in  other  depart- 
ments bids  fair  to  prove  a  great  stimu- 
lus to  this.  It  is  the  use  of  text-books 
in  foreign  languages,  tried  by  several 
instructors  with  some  success,  and 
promising  much  greater,  if  it  could 
be  tried  in  more  encouraging  circum- 
stances. We  venture  to  suggest  that 
the  knowledge  of  French  or  German, 
as  far  as  the  ability  to  read  the  lan- 
guage fluently,  might  be  made  a  con- 
dition to  the  choice  of  the  higher  elec- 
tives  of  philosophy  or  history.  That 
would  be  such  an  immediate  turning 
of  the  knowledge  to  good  account  as 
would  tend  to  bring  about  a  very 
much  better  appreciation  of  the  lan- 
guages as  substantial  studies.  It 
need  hardly  be  observed  that  the  for- 
eign text-books  would  be  of  the  high- 
est service  to  philosophical,  historical, 
or  other  studies,  or  that  the  advan- 
tages from  some  such  simple  measure 
as  we  have  suggested  would  be  felt 
throughout  the  college. 

We  have  been  gla<l  to  observe  a 
greater  attention  to  grammatical 
studies  in  this  department.  The  tu- 
tor in  French  and  the  instructor  in 
Spanish  and  Italian  ap[)eared  to  bo 
particularly  earnest,  and  this  in  spite 
of  very  discouraging  circum.  tances, 
to  put  their  pupils  through  the  drill 
which  is  indispensable.  A  student 
can  have  little  respect  for  a  lan;.;uage 
which  he  is  constantly  murdering  by 
grammatical  inaccuracy.  Nor  does 
the  knowledge   he   gets  of    it   avail 


120  Hanard  CoUege. 

much  as  a  foandatkm  for  later  study,  miBsian.    We  regard  these  as  ffeepfl 

or  for  the  useof  it  in  foreign  countries;  the  right  direction^  and  leading 

where,  by  the  bj,  blunders  in  gram-  others  which  may  be  taken  in  4 

mar  are  accounted  worse  than  in  any  time  with  a  view  to  making  the  \mA 

thing  else,  and  set  down  as  the  sure  of  admission,  like  the  studies  ef  \ 

signs  of  imperfect  education.  college,  comparatively  elective.      A 

We  trust  that  the  teachers,  one  and       The  studies  of  the  oollege  aie  m 

all  in  this  department,  will  see  to  it  more  ^elective ''than ''required."  ik 

that  grammar  does  not  fall  out  of  its  freshman  year  is  the  only  one  dsffi 

proiK'r  place.  to   required  studies.     In  the  so 

In  some  of  the  ezcercises  which  we  more  year,  five  and  a  half  h 

attendeil,  we  should  have  been  glad  week,  with  themes  and  elocutioiii  i 

to   have  seen   a  little   more    fervor,  stitute  the  required  course.    Li 

Great  master-pieces  of  fk)etrj  or  prose,  jimior  year  it  amounts  to  five  1 

read  as  if  they  were  the  advertise-  a  week,  besides  themes  and  k 

monts  in  a  newspaper,  aw  not  wisely  sics ;  and  in  the  senior,  only  to  i 

or  justly   treatetl,  particularly  in   a  lecture  a  week  for  a  half-year,  1 

college   which   has    heretofore    been  themes    and    forensics.      Sudi  \ 

distinguished  for  its  studies  in  modem  the  arrangement  for  the  last  year; 

literature.  the  rest  of  the  work  by  the  thiet' 

.,    .,  ^    _     ,.       ....  per  classes  having  heisn.  eteetivsL 

6.  LoHrse..  of  Stud^,   nnd^ing  occupying  twelve  houn  a  week  i 

Terms  of  Adm^^on.  ^^^^  ^-^^^  ^^  juniors,  and 

With  n»gard  to  terms  of  admission  with    sophomores.       These    c 

we  have  aln>ady  recommended  that  were  allowed  to  take  additional  i^ 

thoy   shouUi   include    piodciency   in  as  extras,  without  receiving  n 

n\uling  and  writing  English.  and  there  were  some  to  avail  til 

TluM-atuL^guo  for  the  [mst  year  gave  selves  of  the  privilege,  at  least  ft 

notiiv  that   the  college,   not  content  time.     The  dean *s  report  for  the  J 

with  I  he  cKvrive  system  in  its  own  1SG(^70  states  that  *' room  was  iH 

St luiios,  would  extend  it  to  prepura-  for  this  large  extension  of  the  eled 

torv    s^*1umIs  dn*   sotting    forth     two  courses  of  study  by  abridging  SQI 

com*si«s  of  study,  in  either  of  which  what  the  previously  existing  eo4 

a  o;uuUJ..ito  fv^r  atlmission  could  be  ex-  of  required  studies.     This  wasaofll 

atuinod.     l^ue  of  these  c«.nitains  uKkre  plished,   however,    without   dropf 

tin  ol;  nuil  I. at  in  with  less  mathemat-  fiv^m  the  curriculum  any  subject 

io>.  :!>o  other  niorx*  mathcmaric^  with  ac%)uaintance   with   which   has  1 

lc>^  iiroik  and  Latin;  the  le^iuisites  heretofore  deemed  an  essential 

iu    h:>N^rv    and    physical    gev^graphy  oi  the  general  education  presnpp 

ivnKri:v.:v:    iuvariAole,      Another  no-  by  the  Bachelor  s  degree.     But  n 

(100  -n   :hc  jas:  cutalogtie  annvHmoed  the  range  of  subjects  in  the  reqa 

\\\i\\  ,k;\  o\;*.uu nation  iu  the  tnuislatioa  course  was  not  narrowed*  it  waa 

of  I  Vt  iU'!;  *>i\vsi*  would  U»  held  at  the  lieved    that    in   some    of    them  1 

ho}::v.i\',n.:  of  the  fresh tU;U)  yt^ir.  and  knowledge   required  of   all  stndj 

\\\i\\  st;u!.  \)ts  |vi<sing  it  s^uistacrorily  might  be  profitably  limited  to  a  I 

wouM  tw'  Iv  rxs|uin\l  to  study  French  teryof  principles,  and  that  an  si 

r.)  oolio^r.v      This  is  the  same  as  mak-  rate  treatment  of  the  subjects  m 

\\\^  V\x\\y  h  au  oKvtive  ix'quisito  for  ad-  be  reserved  for  an  elective  ooium^^ 


\ 


Harvard  College. 


121 


ents  who  were  especially  in- 
in  them."  It  is  probably  as 
to  the  faculty  as  to  the  over- 
at  the  value  of  the  elective 
it-peods  to  a  great  extent 
Dot  being  purely  elective,  or, 
w^ords,  upon  its  being  regu- 

the  counsels  of  judicious 
and  judicious  parents.  To 
udent  at  the  outset,  or  any 
:  of  his  course,  to  choose  his 
thout  advice,  is,  in  nine  cases 
.  to  allo^'  him  to  run  the  risk 
;:  his  academic  education, 
have  been  remarked  in  the 
eretofore  given  of  the  elec- 
•ns,  that  some  of  them  were 
t  of  two  and  even  three  dif- 
^ses.  If  a  student  does  not 
ce  an  elective  provided  for 
lass,  he  can  wait  a  year  or 
take  it  with  members  of  a 
3.  On  the  other  hand,  if 
to  anticipate  a  stud}*,  he  is 
'  qualified,  to  pursue  it  with 
of  a  higher  class.  Some 
;>articularly  in  modem  lan- 
e  offered  simultaneously  to 
ia><es.  The  required  course 
»hy  of  the  junior  year  is  an 
the  s^iphomore  year ;  and  a 

ch«x>>ing  it  is  entitled, 
becomes  a  junior,  to  take 
re  offered  to  sophomores  or 
All  this  constitutes  an  in- 
feat  ure    of  the    movements 

by  the  elective  system.  It 
le  lirst  sign  of  a  change 
ly  are  dispose<l  to  welcome 
<  sy>tem  hitherto  dominant 
egtfs.  "  The  degree,'*'  says 
in  the  report  just  cited,  "to 
ers^raduates  may  in  future 
i'ul  to  pursue  a  portion  of 
ies  with  other  classes,  will, 
T*j^'  light  on  the  question, 
rxtent  it  is  profitable  to 
the   American   system    of 


grouping  students  into  classes,  when 
the  number  of  students  has  become 
very  large." 

This  liberal  course  of  study  has 
been  crowned  with  liberal  honors  to 
all  who  are  successful  in  its  pursuit 

Students  in  the  ancient  or  mod- 
em languages,  philosophy,  history, 
mathematics,  physics,  chemistry, 
and  natural  history,  are  promised 
special  honors  on  condition  of  passing 
with  distinction  examinations  in  all 
the  required,  and  in  certain  elective 
studies  of  the  several  departments. 
Special  requisitions  may  be  made  in 
any  department ;  in  three  of  the  seven 
above  mentioned,  they  are  already 
made.  We  hail  the  provision  of  hon- 
ors as  one  that  promises  to  raise  the 
standard  and  quicken  the  zeal  of 
every  student  desiring  to  improve 
as  well  as  to  distinguish  himself  in 
college. 

It  will  be  evident,  we  trust,  that 
this  committee  is  in  sympathy  with 
the  system  of  instruction  now  in  pro- 
cess of  development.  It  needs  re\ns- 
ion,  as  we  think,  especially  in  rela- 
tion to  the  literary  and  psychological 
training  of  the  students;  but  we  need 
not  repeat  ourselves.  Whatever  defi- 
ciencies really  exist  can  be  repaired 
without  checking  the  movement 
which  has  been  begun,  and  for  which 
the  college  is  under  a  very  deep  and 
lasting  obligation  to  the  faculty. 
Theirs  is  the  credit  of  having  initi- 
ated the  reform ;  tlieirs  also  be  the 
credit  of  perfecting  it. 

7.  Disripline,  Expensps,  (V)d  Health, 

a.  Discipline.  The  statute  of  Feb- 
ruary, 1870,  creating  the  office  of  dean 
of  the  college  faculty,  makes  it  one 
of  his  duties  "to  administer  the  disci- 
pline of  the  college."  The  committee 
are  happy  to  learn  that  this  impor- 
tant transfer  from  the    president   to 


• 


die 
die  I 
i«»aftj  lam 
tliati 
handBeii   jovths^  gatiwRd 

maSLj  T«T  iOEset  icgvd  to  their  m 

rsibeaeeifr-  ecifantaw  Acse  choold  be  ii 

M*.  of  base  or  dangeiom   ine 
Whenever  these  mdinatkn 

T!»  diii  aoci^aK  ■fii'mffT:w»  a  acts  of  rial 

sal  fnaJMifa  heairT  mmj  be  aanzed  that 

haifr  7)ta!«e«i  ««3vi     The  aeauhuL*  imik  Iic»  wid  alomt  entize  anani 

JO     riivir  popus  ami  die  papiia  on  nacaxa  cheia.  ia  aa  appeal  ti 

rivir    :«faLavc»  wrca    VmilitT    ere^  andmcrr.     Membna  i^  a  i 

B«*ni    i!«i    :£iac    raeir    3nmmi&.   aa  ace  noc   lev  aownahle  to 

3i«*aiLvc»  if  rae  »aw  >rjJeiee.  ace  auc  ochns  oieii.    On  die  eootnr 

s.'vudA^r.a:^^  7at  bamtmiuiBfr:  aa«i  taac  ac  their  oppoctanxtiM;  thej 

:ti«fy  ."^fta  7PHir»Di  rtetr  jw^  cuoinicc  be  beuL  or  to  hold  themaa 

by  .vn^r:3;c  "^3:^  ^t  jcnecs  otinmK'C-  duecr  atxoiiiitahOitT. 

M  ^  :h  T^tf'.n.     Fir  :a.»  saopy^  coDr-  C*iie  Rccnt  aheiatioo  in 

i*c:«'a  :ii««  ot^iletrs  is  uiavQCM  oacdj  ^cxi:r  Jisctpliae  merita  g« 

:v.«  -:idu««uc^!ri!i  rt»;at  v*rfiouc.  ia«i  mtt-  pr«vaL     I*  is  a  regolatkm  o 

!y  ^.>  'air*E^fT!«ioa^  n:*>oi  vrhui ;  rj  s&i  uiLry.  rhas  madks  of  censoze 

oni«    .*:k.isv.  pvcha^    ai'p?  raao.  ru*  >*  combiaed  wish  marks  a 

^\«.-\p  inarir:^  ^t  rtie  ^srjiLens  :a  so:  p.     -  Vijiarloo*  of  collf 

tlK'M*  \i::vr  ;.r-^  piiae.'*  saj*  die  dean  in  hi 

r*i  —    >*M  -s  r.   'r   *':i.»r    jf  31:1::  r  -  vJI  >t:11  be  tVCowihl  by 

a"v«*.^    "*«■  '.*.   s  >;■  '     i* .:  ~*    /;».-\:r.'  n.  :fac-j".^:&hei  t:ile-^  p^rna^ties 

S';-.»-     '1'     "*••    .v.!i:u    ^-v    "'^■■--    ":rvn  :i:7:.-:;s.  34L-T>?r:s;oa5w   io. ;  1 

*;:■'.•.  V  "'".      ■>ri**i'*s  .;*    ir-^'-'rim  -ir  ^♦•iialTie^  w-^I  nor  a^ecl  the 

r\^    .i   »n:v      ■  I     !.o:  ;-   i::'**'. '  Si's  riii.i  is  1  K'h.-ior.  which  wiU 

^».  .•  ;•■  f    itr.i:?. >      :r.i  n  >uT  i:::::*?'.!  i4'i»:tT  hj  his  recita 

:>•   \'m-  .'r.*i    >os4v:.;r  ■  . .--    0;'-^-  I":*^  :!::•-:  riiaies  of  liiscipli 

^  v.  I  ^^•       I    >im\:    '■:    ;c   r.'i«r7!i.">M  rie  Vik?c  t^^at  have  betn  as  ft 

■■■        *    -'^    -^- N>':.  *      ', :     s   .t    '-•*"*-•'  ?- pan-a  >-Lc=*.i    .     .       7  Fml 

of   >•  ;■>  .       *      *  '  .■•*:••*:    r.^*.  .k>  r.'   i-.  rr.oi.^  az  sad  jf  j^ar.  -l  Jasi 

\\''.'  "-'x:-  ."v  ,^^^•^^    >.ir    ^i  ■:!  r  ■.:k-:ie  4  S>pl 

M  .  ■*    '.v^.  -:i  -v'^:.     *::  u'ol  .i.»  I  >>..^  Ti :    terras   of  suspensi* 

:■:  >.' v.*  .•  !N-r  v'<: . .;:  ^•;•>.   .:    *jl;-*.  :-  fr"=:    rv;     :o    irfreifn    mon 

•,.t   •>     >i  '  \  ;  >or^\  .vv:  -v*'.!  :  ro**'  iv  ".«.*^*^-'<r  '.>  ~c  f:r  Irvakiag 

ov.  ■'  '...•   :.»  v-o    S4*    i::.    *    :>^»    ".v::.'?  u;.i-">   -v:-:    r.     *>-e  was  1 

v\avx  ,1  s  .:^;i-->  uv:!.-  u:>  :>c  .iu'l:'-  :"r  : ->;:"> "ri:zare  c-isauct  i 

!\  :•   v;::    ^r  v^^«'.^      r>..'>,*    atv    :^r/.l  ::o:i.  o-e  f.T  carrviag  imp 

k;:;ixv".-  i^Vv^tvVci  a^::is:  ivrsocjt  a::1  *:scac«.>*   izro  az    exam  in  at 

l»rv»^\r;\\  v»i:o  or  luoiv  ct  which  baTv  for  :ie-;C:ecc  :*?  siake  up  certt 


Harvard  CoUege. 


123 


ree  for  presence  at  a  drink- 
;  five  for  disregard  of  col- 
S  as  shown  by  an  excessive 
»f  marks  of  censure, 
sed :  two  sophomores  for 
'eshmen. 

lower  grades  of  punishment 
unnecessary  to  make  special 

penses,  A  student  who  is 
i  or  profuse  at  home  will 
so  in  college ;  and  this,  in 
all  the  rules  a  faculty  can 
College  charges  themselves 
?rally  very  reasonable,  and 
Cambridge  are  no  exception. 
te  are  not  the  charges  that 
the  cost  of  academic  educa- 
he  chief  expenses  of  a  s tu- 
fa is  board,  his  furniture  and 
i  books,  clothes,  and  amuse- 
br  which  he  has  nobody  in 

0  consult  or  to  pay.  What 
»s,  or,  if  he  has  a  wise  parent, 

parent  chooses  to  spend  for 
irposes,  is  spent ;  it  may  be 
in?d,  it  may  be  two  thousand 
year.  But  for  this  amount, 
j^o  i^  c*»rtairily  not  responsible, 
ml  College  has  some  advau- 
lid  some  disadvantages,  in 
C'^st  to  its  stu<lents.  Among 
er,   the   most   marked  is    the 

1  of  the  seminary.  Cam- 
itself  a  city,  and  close  to  a 
irger  city,  presents  all  the 
lities  and  all  the  temptations 
[  morie\'  that  the  most  extrav- 
an  desire.  But  everybody 
this  beforehand ;  and  the 
or  guanlian,  as    well    as   the 

can  take  every  necessary 
on.  Another  disadvantage, 
uliar   to   the    college,   is   the 

of  Sfxriety  assessments  and 
r  charges;  the  former  of  whic.h, 
may  be  avoided  by  abstinence 
icieties,   but    the    latter    are 


enough  in  themselves  to  complain  of. 
Something,  we  think,  will  be  done  ^ 
to  abate  this  abuse,  for  abuse  it  is  ^ 
to  students  of  very  limited  means. 
On  the  other  hand,  there  are  pecuni- 
ary advantages  at  Cambridge.  Board 
is  reduced  to  cost  by  the  arrangement 
of  the  Thayer  Club,  a  sort  of  com- 
mons. It  is  to  be  doubted  if  equally 
good  food  can  be  procured  at  the 
same  rate  by  the  students  of  any 
other  leading  college.  Our  students 
are  likewise  favored  in  practising 
economy,  by  the  respect  in  which 
those  who  need  to  practise  it  are  held 
by  their  companions.  They  are  also 
enabled  as  Harvard  students,  and  by 
the  demand  for  their  services  in  the 
neighborhood,  to  obtain  temporary 
employment,  and  so  to  pay  their 
way  through  college.  But  of  all  the 
helps  to  young  men  of  limited  means, 
the  chief  are  the  large  beneficiary 
provisions,  accumulated  during  a 
long  period,  but  greatly  increased 
in  recent  years.  Seventy-one  scholar-  jd 
ships,  and  a  varying  number  of  gra- 
tuities and  loans,  ranging  from  fifty 
to  three  hundred  dollars,  are  within 
the  reach  of  meritorious  students. 
Poor  men,  simply  as  such,  cannot 
hope  for  aid;  they  must  bo  rioh  in 
character  and  in  scholarship  to  ob- 
tain it;  and  if  they  are,  they  obtain 
it  freely,  not  as  eleemosynary  grants, 
but  as  prizes  of  which  any  scholar 
may  be  proud.  It  can  do  the  public  no 
harm  to  be  reminded,  from  time  to 
time,  that  all  the  students  of  Har- 
vard College,  the  richest  as  well  as 
the  poorest,  .are,  in  one  sense,  charity- 
scholars.  The  charge  for  instruction 
does  not  cover  half  its  cost  to  the 
institution ;  the  other  half  is  the  free 
gift  which  it  has  been  enabled  to 
make  by  the  benefactions  of  genera- 
tion after  generation. 

c.  Health.     The  physical  condition 


124 


Haroard  College. 


of  our  students  is  still  impaired  by 
causes  with  which  we  aro^  fiuniliar. 
Irregular  exercise  and  deep,  too 
much  tobacco^  bad  air  in  rooms, 
these,  and  other  troubles,  are  habitoaL 
Occasional  difficulties  arise  from  prac- 
tices incident  to  joining  societies, 
or  from  other  traditions  among  the 
students.  Upon  such  matters,  no  other 
influence  than  that  of  the  undergrad- 
uates themselves  can  be  brought  to 
bear  effectually.  Grenerally  speaking, 
however,  the  health  of  the  students 
is  better  than  it  has  ever  been  in  our 
day.  The  erection  of  a  gymnasium, 
the  improvements  in  rooms,  as  well 
as  the  encouragement  of  manly  sports 
b}'  the  authorized  formation  of  boat 
and  ball  clubs,  have  done  much 
towards  the  physical  development 
of  the  undergraduates.  We  are  aware 
of  the  objections  to  some  of  the  ex- 
ercises now  in  vogue.  Boating  is 
charged  with  taking  up  too  much 
time,  and  racing  w^ith  exhausting 
instead  of  confirming  strength.  Both, 
wci  allow,  may  bo  pushed  to  extremes; 
neitlior  uevd  be.  If  a  man  is  a  stu- 
dent, a  pull  at  his  our  will  help  him 
at  his  hijnks ;  if  he  is  not,  it  will  do 
him  no  luinn ;  rowing  less,  he  would 
not  study  more.  Racing,  including 
tlie  traininjT  which  it  demands,  is 
nioro  (iiicstionahle.  But  some  are 
actually  luMielited  by  it;  many  are 
nt'itluT  lK?nefited  nor  injured; 
wliiK'  x]n*  few  who  are  really  injured 
are  not  more  numerous  than  those 
who  suilor  from  oiher  '-auses.  The 
present  system  of  training  is  much 
less  tryin;^  tlian  that  of  former  years. 
A  more  serious  injury  to  the  health 
of  the  coUej^e  arises  from  a  practice 
wliieh  we  have  already  condemned 
in  connection  with  the  examinations. 
Cramming  is  as  bad  physically  as 
intellectually.  To  cram  means  to  doom 
one's  self  to  a  close   room,   to  late 


hours,  to  strain  upon  Hm  btaiiii ' 
eye,  and  the  whole  framoi  to  nsj^ 
of  exercise  and  recreation,  to  abi 
every  condition  that  can  wasts  i 
nervous  and  bodily  powers.  1 
vigor  of  the  indnstrioos  dedinss  1 
der  this  process.  Twice  lately  1 
a  vacancy  occurred  in  the  Hri 
Scholarship,  because  the  ineumti 
lost  his  health.  It  is  not  to  be  i( 
dered  at,  if  he  was  bent  on  did 
gnishing  himself  at  a  written  m^ 
nation,  and  crammed  aoooidiif 
The  check  which  we  have  res) 
mended  to  be  put  upon  this  praij 
will,  if  effectual,  prove  a  great  ni 
to  the  overburdened  energies  of  :| 
young  men. 

Much  more  might  be  said  in  4 
tion  to  health.  It  is  among  the  4 
most  important  considerations  ^ 
which  we  have  to  touch,  aoC 
which  the  attention  of  the  oven) 
can  be  called.  The  modem  ooal 
tion  of  education  is  broader  than  f 
of  merely  intellectual  training. 
includes  physical  training,  or 
opportunity  of  it,  as  essential  to 
hardy  pursuit,  as  well  as  the  ha 
use,  of  knowledge.  A  college  wl 
aims  at  less  than  the  devel<^ 
of  both  body  and  mind  cannot  1 
hold  the  lead  in  education. 

We  do  not  speak  of  the  soul,  o 
the  care  which  it  .demands.     TU 
a  charge  which  our  college  is  pol 
off;  and  perhaps  it  is  as  well 
the  object  of  the  care  remains; 
the  overseers,  like  all  other  firM 
of  Harvard  College,  are  bound  to 
that  the  atmosphere  of  the  instittt 
remains   pure   and    healthful, 
college  is  but  a  sample  of  the  wi 
Within  it,  as  \Wthout  it,  are  difB 
ties  to  be  met,  dangers  to  be  C 
come;  and  the  overcoming  thei 
a  part  of   human   probation,    i 
let  them  be  kept  down  to  as  I 


American  Social  Science  Association. 


125 


oar  effort  and  oar  infiuence 
>  them,  and  then  they  who 
trial  may  securely  win  the 


RICAN  SOCIAL  SCIENCE 
ASSOCIATION. 

KCULAR  recently  issued  hy 
*rican  Social  Science  Associ- 
ires  a  brief  summary  of  its 
litherto,  and  affords  a  proper 

for  acquainting  some  readers 
L>  AXD  New  "  with  the  opera- 
the  Association.  It  was  or- 
in  the  iall  of  1865.  It  has 
even  annual  and  general 
5.  with  reading  of  papers  and 
of  debates ;  has  organized  se v- 
Qches ;  published  a  thousand 
>f  valuable  discussions  on 
ls  of  social  science  ;  published 
dbook  for  Immigrants,"  a  tract 
?e  Public  Libraries,"  and  an- 

"The  Collection  of  Casts  for 
:  Department  of  the  Boston 
H[igh  and  Normal  School ; " 
several  monographs  on  differ- 
^le  subjects.  Besides  these 
rs  and  publications,  other 
lings  have  been  done,  under 
?  working  rule  of  the  Associ- 
o  lend  a  hand  to  whatever 
terprise  it  can  from  time  to 
pip  forward.  Thus,  it  did 
)  bring  before  the  public  the 
rvice  Reform ;  it  gave  useful 
ions  towards  preparing  for 
5us  of  1870 ;  it  has  materi- 
ed  the  arrangements  now  in 
for   the    establishment    of 


museums  of  art  in  Boston  and  New 
York,  &C.,  &c. 

The  Association  defines  its  field  of 
effort  thus:  "To  promote  the  mate- 
rial and  moral  prosperity  of  the 
United  States,  by  the  study,  explana- 
tion, and  practical  treatment  of  ques- 
tions and  undertakings  in  social 
science,  selecting  from  time  to  time 
such  as  are  of  greatest  immediate 
importance."  This  field,  it  is  added, 
includes  "whatever  concerns  the 
well-being  of  mankind  as  organized 
in  communities."  The  work  now  in 
hand  by  the  Association  is  the  revis- 
ion of  its  "  Handbook  for  Immigrants," 
for  a  German  translation  to  be  dis- 
tributed in  Europe,  and  for  a  second 
English  edition.  There  are  at  pres- 
ent about  six  hundred  members. 
The  President,  S.  Eliot,  LL.D.,  or 
the  Secretary,  F.  B.  Perkins,  will 
gladly  give  further  information  to 
any  one  wishing  it.  Address  either 
of  them,  13  Pemberton  Square, 
Boston. 

It  is  believed  by  the  managers  of 
the  Association  that  a  great  deal 
of  valuable  work  could  be  done,  too, 
in  promoting  a  practical  knowledge 
of  social  science,  by  the  organization 
throughout  the  country  of  correspond- 
ing or  local  branches  of  the  Associa- 
tion, to  act  in  concert  with  the  parent 
body  in  collecting  informatioo  and  in 
discussing  social  questions.  The  op- 
erations of  the  two  branches  already 
established  (in  New  York  and  Phila- 
delphia) justify  this  belief. 

Correspondence  as  above  is  invited 
from  persons  interested  in  the  subject. 


m 


126 


Frederic  Wadswort\  LorUig. 


MR.  FREDERIC  WADSWORTH   LORING- 


Hoping  a;^ainst  hope,  we  perraitteJ  the  last  number  of  ^-^  OldI 
Nkw'*  to  be  issued  without  uUucUng  to  the  roporU  which  has  pr 
only  too  true,  of  the  murder  of  Frederic  Wadsworth  Lorinj^  io  j 
zona.  It  was  8omclx>dyV  son,  of  course  ;  perhaps  somelKxly's  br 
and  somebody 'ts  friend,  who  bore  the  name  of  Lorlng,  and  wa^ 
iu  that  horrible  imissacre.  But  it  seemed  as  if  there  coald  have  I 
no  one  else  who  had  such  a  circle  of  friends,  or  who  had  ^ven  I 
promise  for'  the  future. 

It  is  now  certain,  that  in  the  attack  on  the  Wickenburg  si 
the  fifth  of  November,  whether  hy  Indiana  or  by  white  robl 
Lorin^  was  immediately  killed.     He  had  completed  a  summer's 
cursion  with  Lieut.  Wheeler's  surv^eying  party^  in  which  he  had  1 
brought  into  the  midst  of  the  wildest  natural  scenery  and  the 
savage  races  of  men  in  the  country.     He  had  lived  in  the   oi>ea 
all  the  summer,  to  the  great  benefit  of  his  health,  and  had 
heartily  in  all  the  dangers  and  in  all  the  exposures  of  the 
He  had  sent  to  "  Appleton's  Journal  "  a  series  of  spirited  and  vet 
teresting  papers  on  his  observations ;  and  he  had  made  notes 
long  story,  based  on  such  adventure,  of  which  the  readers  of  *^  Old] 
New"  were  to  h:ive  bad  the  benefit.     Never  were  his  plans  for 
future  more  cheerful  or  more  definitely  arranged  than  they  apf 
his  very  last  lettei-s.     He  remained  with  the  party  even  later  tha 
had  i)roposed,  and  at  last  took  passage  with  the  fated  party  who ' 
the  victims  of  this  savage  murder. 

The  writer  of  these  lines  remembers   Frederic  Loiing  as  a 
seven  years  old,  sitting  on  a  foot-stool  by  his  mother's  side,  and  j 
ing  over  the  ''  Pictorial  Shakspeare,"     At  that  time  the  boy  \ 
Shakspeare  better  than  most  men  do,  and  entered  into  the  moven 
and  spirit  of  the  best  plays  with  the  enthusiasm  which  was  the 
to  his  character  and  life  till  the  moment  of  his  death.     His  educ 
at  that  time  was  under  the  careful  and  intelligent  guidance 
mother,  a  woman  of  the  rarest  sensitiveness,  sweetness,  sensOij 
intelligence.      The  boy  worshipped  her,  and  she    understood 
Her  early  death,  when  he  was  scarcely  eleven  years  old,  wasj 
great  grief  of  his  life.     But  every  effort  was*made  by  his 
and  his  friends  for  the  development  and  right  training    of  aQ 
which  was  perfectly  evident  then  ;  and  under  such  guidance  as 
arranged,  he  was  prepared  for  college. 


Frederic  Wadsworth  Loring.  127 

One  of  the  great  felicities  of  his  life,  which  had  many,  was,  that 
I  enterini;  Harvard  College,  he  met  the  late  Prof.  Cutler,  and  that 
t  welcomed  the  boy  so  cordially.  Loring  had  read  and  studied 
Dgli<h  literature  at  the  expense  of  his  mathematics  and  his  classics, 
id  through  his  college  life  the  same  balance  of  interest  bent  his 
mdies*  and  made  havoc  with  the  regular  college  course.  Nobody 
Ifeo  ever  heard  him  run  on  in  his  amusing  abuse  and  ridicule  of  the 
Mthematieal  formulas  for  the  chemical  equivalents,  for  which  he 
pd  a  ludicrous  horror,  will  forget  the  humor  of  that  extravagance, 
b  A  college  where  no  sympathy  existed  between  teacher  and  pupil, 
m  would  have  been  wretched ;  and  from  such  a  college  he  would 
■re  l)een  exiled  in  six  months,  never  to  return.  Fortunate  indeed, 
k  escaping  from  the  academy  at  Andover  to  the  sympathies  of  the 
of  genius  whom  he  met  at  Cambridge,  young  Loring  made 
ads  among  his  teachers  from  the  very  first,  who  knew  how  to 
ithe  his  sensitive  nature,  how  to  sympathize  with  him  even  in  his 
_  avagances,  and  to  lift  him  and  lead  him  through.  Mr.  Cutler 
p3  his  loyal  and  firm  friend,  and  Loring  loved  him  with  a  true  love. 
■ke  blow  to  him  when  Mr.  Cutler  died  was  hard  indeed.  Prof. 
ILowell  also  cared  for  the  boy  with  kind  and  thoughtful  care,  and  won 
■be  return  of  his  life-long  gratitude. 

Kobody  could  have  helped  it,  had  anybody  tried,  but  that  the  boy 
Mo  had  read  Shakspeare  as  he  had  before  he  was  eight  years  old, 
St  have  a  passion  for  the  drama.     He  was  not  half  through  col- 
ge  when  this  passion  had  brought  him  into  personal  acquaintance 
nh  with  dramatists  and  actors,  and  with  the  same  felicity  which  we 
ive  noted,   he  made   here   the   best  of   friends ;    and   everybody 
emed  iletermined  that  this  pure,  impetuous  boy  should  not  come  to 
Miss   Maggie  Mitchell  was  very  kind  to  him,  —  heard  his 
ones  alx)ut  one  of  her  plays,  and  permitted  him  to  write  a  new 
of  it.  which  she  put  upon  the  stage.     He  wrote  or  translated 
ither  play  for  her,  which  still  keeps  the  stage.     To  assist  in  the 
efii  of  Miss  Cary,  one  of  the  young  friends  of  his  boyhood,  he 
ote  •'  The  Wild  Rose,"  which  was  produced  with  real  success  by 
George   Selwyn.     Mr.  Selwyn  gave  himself  to  the   play  with 
kindness,  and  Loring  always  carried  the  remembrance  of  that 
jness  with  him. 

Such  illustrations  will  show  how  a  sensitive,  pure-minded,  impet- 
/•oos  boy  surrounded  himself  with  friends,  who  loved  him  only  the 
F%>re  for  his  sensitiveness  and  impetuosity.  Meanwhile  his  most  sat- 
ifaciory  literary  work  was  still  that  which  he  did  for  *'  The  Harvard 


128  Frederic  Wadsfjoorth  Lorvng. 

Advocate,"'  the  college  newspaper.    Some  of  his  **  society  yen 
in  that  journal  are  as  good  as  good  can  be  in  that  line. 

So  soon  as  ^^  Old  and  New  "  was  undertaken,  we  were  glad  to  ei 
Mr.  Loring  among  the  young  men  who  should  work  for  it  regula 
and,  in  the  ^^  Examiner  "  and  among  the  lesser  poems  of  the  early  ni 
bers,  are  papers  of  his  written  before  he  left  college.  Three  sketfl 
of  theatrical  life,  and  the  story  of  the  ^^  College  Friends,*'  pnUiiJ 
a  little  later,  arrested  general  attention.  He  had  in  preparation  ad 
critical  articles  on  the  English  dramatists,  but  he  was  not  enoi 
satisfied  with  them  to  trust  them  to  the  press. 

He  was  the  life  and  soul  of  the  plan  for  a  novel  to  be  written  joii 
by  six  of  our  contributors,  of  whom  he  was  to  be  one.-  He  didj 
conceive  the  plan,  but  without  his  resolution  and  spirit  the  story 
would  have  existed.  He  had  proposed  to  himself^  as  soon  as  hfl 
turned,  to  revise  and  set  in  order  his  part  in  the  dose  of  it,  —  at 
which  now  falls  to  other  hands.  His  work  in  it  will  be  found, : 
place  to  place,  —  a  sad  memorial  of  hours  of  fun  and  spirit,  — a 
story  unfolds. 

He  was  determined  from  early  years  to  make  literature  his 
fession.     He  was  proud  to  earn  his  living  by  his  pen,  —  nor  di 
shrink  from  any  honorable  work  by  which  he  could  do  so. 
genius  and  versatility  gave  him  a  choice  of  honorable  positions, 
the  promise  of  a  brilliant  career.     But  that  promise,  alas  I  is  iiii 
instant  blighted. 

The  impetuous,  audacious,  intense  quickness  of  his  nature  .1 
tempered  by  the  most  affectionate  and  sympathetic  thoughtful^ 
for  Ills  friends,  and  was  all  wrought  in  with  the  purity  of  his  nali 
with  his  modesty  under  criticism,  and  readiness  to  be  instruoi 
Those  who  knew  him  do  not  remember  him  as  the  brilliant  •~-* 


lettei-s,  —  who,  scarcely  a  year  from  college,  had  won  for  himaa 
circle  of  readers  and  cordial  admirers,  —  but  rather  as  the  loyal,  h 
spirited,  and  affectionate  companion  and  friend. 

There  are  some  readers  who  followed  the  history  of  the  Wadsw 
clubs  in  the  story  of  "  Ten  times  one  is  Ten,"  who  will  be  intere 
in  knowing  that  Mr.  Loring  was  named  in  his  infancy  after  the 
tleman  from  whom  the  chai*acter  of  Harry  Wadsworth  was  stoi 
who  died  in  Boston  a  little  after  young  Loring  was  born. 


'^^^^^. 


OLD    AND    NEW. 

Vol.  v.—  FEBRUARY,  1872.— No.  2. 


TTir  ill  f-MT  ^ — r  '  Tifi      'TTir^hlnx  rrrfnt/triillTi  r  ■ifiMg'iT'"  ^i  ■  "" 


0  Tour  February  number  is  to  be  a  Washington  number  ?  ^ 

'es,  in  good  measure.     We  have  these  curious  original  letters  to 
«h,  and  new  studies  more  than  we  can  publish,  bj  civilians  and 
Idiers,  of  his  life  and  of  his  times.'* 
)o  you  suppose  it  is  true  that  the  people  of  a  century  after  know 

1  better  than  his  own  time  knows  him  ?  "' 

Tes  and  no.  In  the  case  of  a  man  like  Washingtoo,  where  every 
and  anecdote  is  preserved  somewhere,  and  gradually  finds  the 
,  I  have  no  doubt  that  most  of  us  might  know  him  better  than 
of  his  contemporaries.  On  the  other  hand,  of  course  some  of 
,  pe<jple  of  his  staff  or  his  own  family,, —  Mrs.  Washin^on,  Ham- 
.  p«><>il»ly  even  Lafayette,  knew  him  better  than  we  can." 
HTe  might  know  him  better,  you  say  ;  we  might  do  and  know  a 
many  things.  I  doubt  whether  most  of  us  do  know  him  at  alL 
at  into  a  highl^'-praised  grammar  school  one  day,  and  asked  them 
fought  the  battles  of  Brandywine,  of  Germantown.  of  Mon- 
tlt,  and  of  Saratoga.  Very  few  of  them  knew,  and  ver}-  few  care^i. 
f  laughed  at  the  word  Brandywine,  because  it  s^ounded  funny 
lem.  They  had  not  many  of  them  even  heard  of  it  before." 
I  cannot  wonder  at  that,  when  I  find  the  Riverside  pro^jf- 
cra  passing  *  the  Battle  of  Bunker's  Kill,'  in  Greene's  Life,  while 
ker  Hill  Monument  was  in  sight  from  their  east  windows.  The 
pogitor  could  never  have  heard  of  the  l^attle." 
Have  I  told  you  my  story,  of  my  asking  the  old  black  major- 
D  at  Fort  Monroe,  who  had  been  there  man  and  boy  for  fifty 
lor  more,  about  Washington  ?  I  showed  him  Washington's  j»ir> 
on  a  piece  of  currency  I  gave  him,  and  I  asked  him  whether  he 
saw  any  one  in  Virginia  who  had  seen  Gen.  Washington.     '  I 


130 


Old  and  New. 


don't  remember  Mm  at  all,  sar,'  said  he ;  *  was  he  in  the 
vice,  or  the  volunteeiB  ?  '  *' 

'"Thats  good  for  old  Vii^nia  and  her  first  citiiea.     Bui 
would  not  fai*e  much  better  in  Massachusetta.    Here  were  m\ 
many    stanch    Massachusetts   men,  a  good   deal  aggrieved  ml 
because  Gen.  Artemad  Ward,  the  oommander-in-chief  of  the 
England  array,  was  made  to  act  as  second  to  this  same  George 
ington.     He  was  aggrieved,  and  resigned  his  commission.     And 
hi^  name  is  the  name  chosen  for  the  type  of  absurdity,  to  be  gil 
a  travelling  show- man  ;  and'becauae  Mr.  Browne  chose  to  spell  if 
a  ti  in  the  last  syllable,  most  respectable  men,  who  spell  it  as  the  | 
spells  iU  cannot  get  the  newspapers  to  call  them  Arteraas,     I 
ask  a  hundred  New-Englandei-s  who  Artemas  Ward  was,  and 
nine  would  tell  me  he  was  an  exhibiter  of  wax-work  who 
name  with  a  u.     Yet  Artemas  Ward  commanded  the  army  of  j 
England  when  it  besieged  King  George's  army,  and  under  his 
was  fought  the  battle  of  Bunker  Hill,  or  Bunker  Kill." 

"  They  say  that  Mr,  Carlyle  once  asked  an  American  visitor 
could  not  *take  Washington  down  a  little.'      He  thousrht  w| 
made  too  much  of  him." 

^^Or  he  wanted  to  take  the  visitor  down,  very  likely ;  which| 
sidering  the  general  type  of  the  genus  visitor,  or  interviewer 
^tnore  classical  English  says,  is  not  wonderful," 

^^  I  do  not  know  who  the  visitor  was.     But  it  is  clear  enougfaJ 
the  volumes  of  eulogies   when  Washington  died,  and   the    ce 
came  in,  that   the  people   of  that  generation   had    made  up 
minds  to  have  a  demigod,  and  to  call  him  Washington/' 

^^  Here  is  the  *  poet  *  Richards,  for  instance,  from  whom 
these  verses,  who  says  in  one  of  his  many  eulogies  at  Pot 
that  Wasliington  never  smiled  for  the  seven  years  of  the  war/' 

*'  I  found  the  same  thing  in  Ramsey's  book,  in  South  CaroHii 

*'  I  believe  it  is  well  proved  that  he  swore  on  some  occasions/ 

*'  I  say  nothing  as  to  that,  not  being  prepared  to  cast  stones. 
I  can  tell  you  of  one  good  laugh,  just  at  the  time  of  '  HbstibuM  j 
fugalls.^     Our  friend  Mrs.  Allen  told  me  the  story. 

*^  When  Washington  entered  Boston,  by  what  has  been  in 
quence  Washington  Street  ever  since,  he  took  up  his  quarters  i 
was  then  the  court  '  boarding-house/  at  the  head  of  what 
State  Street.     It  was  kept  by  Mrs.  Edwards,     Mrs.  Edwards*sf 
daughter  was  a  little  girl,  whom  he  would  catch  up,  take  on  1 
,  and  talk  to.    One  day  he  asked  her  which  soldiers  she  liked 


Old  cmd  Xfw.  131 

or  the  bliie-cxMte.  The  duld  was  frank  enongii  to  bat  she 
&d  the  TedoohXs  best.  *  Ah.  my  dear/  sidd  he  latighine. '  but  ihey 
tt't  fight-  The  zigg6d  felloiKTB  are  the  boys  for  figrhting/  Mrs. 
Len  has  that  story  from  her  graDdznotber  who  was  the  child.  The 
i^hing  is  essential  to  the  aDOodote.'^ 

•*  Then  there  is  the  story  of  Trenton.,  where  Mr,  Irrina:  detect*  a  smile 
>  the  General  croas^oestions  the  Hessian  offioer«whc»  was  his^  pn^sonex.*' 
**He  must  haxe  laoghed  at  Piinoeton.  When  they  saw  some 
^sniry  broken  and  hinrx  lug  acrosB  oonntry.  Washington  said  to 
ae  gentlemen  round  hmu  *  A  regular  Virginia  fox-hont.  gentlemen.' 
Mm  do  not  suppose  he  said  that  as  if  he  were  at  a  foneraL** 

•'I  oonfeas,**  said  Mr.  Halibnrton  pensiTely,*^thaT  if  he  had  refused 
^lao^  at  most  of  the  jokea  of  those  times.  I  should  have  said  it 
tm  one  indication  more^  that  he  was  far  in  adrance  of  his  times." 
*  **  The  truth  is^  as  yon  said  just  now«  that  these  old  eulogists  wanted 
fe£&  bim  above  humanity.  I  should  like  to  hare  them  read  this 
Kter.  which  is  mudh  more  entertaining  than  the  despatches  which 
pa  gentlemen  regazd  as  the  whole  mateiial  of  hisuiry.*' 
\  And  Mrs.  Carter  read  from  the  Washington  MSS..  — 

**  •  jyEJLM  Sir,  —  My  plates  and  dishes,  onoe  of  tin.  now  litde  better 
Ibii  rosty  iron^  are  rather  too  much  worn  for  delicate  stomachs  in 
pfeed  and  peaceable  quarters,  though  they  may  yet  serve  in  the  busy 
tad  aciiTe  moTements  of  the  camjiaign-'  "  ^ 

'  Please  observe  the  double  epithet  of  the  prayer-boot   Eng-lii^h. 

I  and  j:»eaoeable,"  *  busy  and  active.*  " 
'  Doible  fiddlestick !  observe  that  he  wants  some  queen's  chiua/" 
Mrs.  Carter  continued.  — 

!  •*  *  Xot  less  I  conceive  than  what  follows  of  each  article  will  do  :  — 

\i  laxge  tureens;  3  dozen  dishes,  sized;  8  dozen  shailow  plaI.e^; 

pdozen  soup  ditto ;  6  table  drinking  mugs ;  8  ditto  Baits,  and  i^ome 

planes ;  the  whole  to  be  very  carefully  jmcked.     I  ai?»o  de^Li-e 

you  will  send   me   six   tolerably  genteeL  but    not    exjieusive 

and  three  pairs  of  snuffers  to  them.       I  wish   for  as 

for  as  will  edgt  a  coat,  waistcoat,  and  breeches :  and  that   it 

r  be  sent  to  me  as  soon  as  possible.     Let  this  be  accompanied  by 

I  poonds  of  starch."  *^ 

^Ther  all  seem  to  have  used  a  good  deal  of  starch,  for  one  j^urpose 
ttocher.     What  is  this  about  his  hat  ?*' 

*  I  must  request  you  to  get  me  a  good  hat.  If  my  old  hatter 
ifc  is  famifilied  with  matexaals,  I  would  prefer  one  of  his.  as  those 
idj  had  from  him  hare  pror^  good,  and  he  knows  the  size  of  mj 
L*    Tbat  was  pradoBl.    It  is  £ar  better  to  have  a  hat  the  size  of 

uZ7,I77l. 


132 


Old  and  New^ 


yoiu'  head  if  you  can.     *  I  do  not  wish  by  any  means  to  be  iol 

extreme  of  tho  fiishion,  either  in  the  size,  or  manner  of  cocking  m 

*•  Ladies  all,  let  me  urge  the  example  of  the  Father  of  his  co  J 
on  you  in  that  regard.  Avoid,  if  you  would  be  true  daught^  J 
America,  the  exti'eme  of  the  fiishion  in  your  hats,  either  in  the  ■ 
or  in  the  manner  of  cockiuo:  them*  But  what  is  this  —  *  Iiofl 
tickets  —  lottery  tickets  to  the  credit  of  a  demigod  ? '  "  I 

And  Mrs.  Carter  read  on  fi*om  the  same  letter,  —  I 

«<  t  Please  to  examine  if  any  of  the  enclosed  tickets  have  ootnfl 
prizes,  and  if  any  thing  is  to  be  made  of  them  be  so  obliging  m 
do  it  for  me-     My  compliments  to  Mrs.  Mitchell.  I 

*  I  am,  dear  sir,  &c.,         Geo,  Washtnot 

^*  Why  did  no  one  ever  tell  me,''  said  she,  "  that  the  Father  ofl 
country  bought  lottery  tickets  ?  I  bought  one  myself  the  year  ■ 
school ;  and  though  I  beg  you  to  believe  I  disapprove  the  lapse  \ 
hero,  I  now  understand  that  be  is  of  my  blood  and  I  of  his/*      I 

*^  Read  the  Braddock  letters,  and  you  will  find  he  was  huntinfl 
a  German  servant  for  his  mother  while  he  was  on  Braddock^s  m 
Does  not  that  eanvinee  you  that  he  was  a  man  and  a  brother  ?  "  I 

*^  Did  the  queen's  ware  get  up  safely  ?  "  I 

*'  As  far  as  appears,  it  never  got  there  at  all,  Mr,  John  Mitd 
wrote  from  Philadelphia,  that  there  was  no  queen's  ware  to  bdj 
there.  So  Washiugton  had  to  writedown  to  Greene  about  it.  GrJ 
you  know,  was  quartermaster-general.  He  said  Lady  Stirlingi 
she  was  sure  there  was  queen's  ware  at  Brunswick,  and  perhaM 
could  get  some  there."  J 

'"  Poor  Pater  Patriae  !  he  could  not  get  his  pickle  plates  in  thJ 
that  declared  the  independence  of  his  country."  ■ 

'^  Nor  his  table-cloths,  either.  Hear  this:  'Early  last! 
wrote  to  Mr.  Mitchell  for  one  dozen  table-cloths,  and  while  wl 
at  Fredericksburg  received  seven  (three  at  one  time  and  foa 
another.)  About  a  fortnight  ago,  by  letter,  I  inquired  wh^ 
others  were  not  sent,  and  received  the  following  answer.  **  fm 
eleven  table-cloths  at  different  times.  Tht*y  went  by  three  sei 
persons.  Gen.  Greene  had  some  each  time,  and  it  was  particid 
noted  to  the  quartermaster  at  the  quartermaster-generar»  1 
in  camp."  I  shall  be  much  obliged  to  you  to  cause  inquiry  d 
made  at  your  stores,  what  was  done  with  the  four  I  miiis.*  *  I 
was  to  Greene  himself.     He  must  not  have  our  table-cloths.'*      I 

**  Dear  Mr.  Ingham,"  said  Fausta  Carter,  "  you  quite  converfl 
I  never  believed  you  before  when  you  said  tliat  nine-tenths  ifl 
interest  of  Imtory  was  in  the  original  documents,"  I 

^Hh  >  WuMogtoa  to  Oreeiie,  MatcIi  8, 1719.  I 


Unpublished  Writings  of  Washington. 


133 


UNPUBLISHED  WRITINGS  OF  WASHINGTON. 


TORiCAL  scepticism,  as  it  takes 
iindsy  tries  its  hand  on  Wash- 
t,  of  coarse,  as  on  all  the  other 
i  who  have  heen  worth  memory 
ici^m.  We  have  not  yet  come 
as  the  time  which  Mr.  Theodore 
r  suggests,  in  his  amusing  and 
ctive  article  on  Strauss,  when 
i  shall  say  there  was  no  such 
But  we  have  long  since  reached 
yint  when  people  hegan  to  in- 
whether  this  man  were  such  a 
ks  the  opinion  of  his  time,  and 
;  first  generation  after,  supposed 

on  have  set  him  pretty  high," 
Mi,  Carlyle  in  conversation, 
't  you  take  him  down  a  little  ?  " 
i  process  of  taking  him  down 
^n  attempted  from  a  good  many 
?ra.  No  people  have  joined  in 
rhaps  more  readily,  though  in 
cases  unconsciously,  than  the 
^hers  of  the  men  hy  whom  he 
onounded. 

i  have  been  told  on  one  side 
somebody  else  wrote  his  des- 
esj  and  that  he  could  not  write 
himsel£  Then  it  is  frequently 
d  that  other  people  planned  his 
es ;  so  Uiat  of  the  scanty  list  of 
Bcce«e8  most  have  been  credited 
omebody  else,  sooner  or  later, 
g^  nobody  seems  eager  to  take 
»dit  of  his  reverses.  Just  now 
t  has  been  an  effort  made  in 
ber  direction,  to  show  that  he  had 
the  claim  to  purity  of  morals 
li  the  older  school  of  critics  gen- 
r  ^rraoted. 

we  eombined  together  all  such 
^sm  of  the  last  forty  years,  it 
i  present  Washington  as  rather 
I,  well-meftniog  Virginia  planter, 
torn  ant  set  of  men  gave  great 


military  renown,  for  whom  another 
set  of  men  wrote  the  despatches  and 
state  papers  which  have  been  thought 
more  remarkable  than  his  exploits, 
and  to  whom  an  ignorant  country 
gave,  because  of  its  ignorance,  its 
rapturous  love  and  esteem.  There 
needs  but  one  step  more  to  relegate 
Washington  to  the  mysterious  world 
of  Homer  or  of  Odin. 

Against  this  drift  of  rather  com- 
monplace scepticism,  the  few  people 
who  have  taken  any  pains  to  acquaint 
themselves  either  with  Washington's 
life  or  his  writings,  stand  absolutely 
firm.  Mr.  Sparks,  Mr.  Everett,  :Mr. 
Irving,  and  Mr.  Bancroft  lose  no 
chance  for  expressing,  not  simply 
rapturous  love,  but  their  solid  convic- 
tion that  here  was  a  first-rate  man. 
They  place  him  where  they  would 
place  few  other  men.  They,  consider 
him  remarkable  in  mental  ability,  of 
remarkable  moral  force,  as  swaying 
with  a  remarkable  power  the  men 
with  whom  he  had  to  do,  and  thus  as 
deserving,  what  everybody  grants  he 
had,  a  remarkable  place  in  history. 
So  stoutly  does  Mr.  Bancroft  main- 
tain this  ground, — the  only  living 
representative  of  these  four,  —  that 
the  lesser  critics  find  fault  with  his 
history  on  the  ground  that  it  is  writ- 
ten simply  to  make  the  reputation  of 
Washington  and  of  Franklin. 

Now,  the  truth  is,  that  all  the  ques- 
tions raised  in  such  criticism  may  be 
substantially  answered  by  any  one 
who  wants  to  answer  them,  in  the 
careful  criticism  of  Washington's  own 
letters  while  they  are  still  in  exist- 
ence. It  is  easy  enough  now  to  see 
whether  he  could  write  a  despatch  or 
not,  when  he  had  nobody  at  hand  to 
help  him.     It  is  easy  enough  to  see 


134 


Unpublished  Writings  of  Washington. 


whether  lie  were  subdtautialljr  the 
SAini»  man  at  three  aiul  twenty  as  he 
was  at  five  and  forty.  And  when  one 
iiucb  that  in  1755  the  people  of  Vir- 
giuia  were  as  enthusiastic  about  him 
as  the  people  of  the  eountry  were 
five  and  twenty  years  after,  one  be- 
lieves that  in  both  cases  there  were 
probably  the  same  gronnda  for  enthu- 
siasm. 

When,  again,  one  finds  in  those  boy- 
despatches  the  same  habit  of  thaoght, 
the  same  solid  address  to  the  businesa 
in  hand,  the  same  certainty  that  a 
clear  statement  of  the  necessity  is 
the  first  step  towards  meeting  the 
exigency,  as  one  finds  in  the  des- 
patches of  the  heavily-worked  cora- 
mauder^in-chief  a  generation  after; 
when  one  finds  this,  he  believes  that 
the  boy,  after  he  became  a  man,  dic- 
tated the  despatch  or  inspired  the 
Reed  or  the  Hamilton  who  drew  it 

We  aclmowledge  some  surprise 
j^ftt  such  a  comparison  of  Washing- 
"illlPa  early  and  later  work  has  not 
called  into  print  before  now  a  large 
number  of  Ms  papers  which  have 
never  been  published.  There  are  in 
existence  three  consid*^rab1e  collec- 
tions of  Washington's  lett^ijrs  in  manu- 
script, from  which  the  hi^storians  have 
Belcct<?d  such  information  as  they 
needed,  but  which  have  never  been 
printed  in  full  Indeed,  only  short 
passages  from  them  have  ever  been 
in  print  at  all.  These  are,  first,  his 
original  letter-books,  of  which  Mr. 
8parka*s  copies  are  preserved  in  the 
most  admirable  manner  by  Mrs. 
Sparks,  in  that  priceless  coUt*ction  of 
the  materials  for  our  history  which 
she  has  placed  in  the  Library  of  Har- 
vard College.  Tbe  second  is  a  col- 
lection of  letters^  mostly  on  agricul- 
turo,  ftnd  similar  economical  subjects, 
rocontly  presented  by  Mr  J.  Carson 
Brevoort,  of  the  Long  Island  His- 


torical Society,  of  whicli  he  ifl 

dent.     The  third,  which  is  a 
collectinn  than  eitJier  of  the»e,  i 
of  the  Massachusetta  Historica}| 
ty.     This  consists   mostly  of 
ington's   letters    and    despatch 
Maj.-Gen.    H*:^ath,    but    it    ab 
eludes  other  papei's  of  his  whicll 
Tarious  sources  have  fallen  inl 
Society's  hands.     There  are  of  i 
many    other  letters    of   Wasbii 
which  are  not  included  in  eitt 
these   collections.     But,  on   a 
estimate,  we  should  say  that  I 
papers  alone  would  make  siix  ' 
of  the  size  of  the  volumes  of  Sp 
Washington. 

We  have  supposed  that  we  \ 
best  illustrate  the  general  sii 
of  the  early  and  of  the  lat 
patches,  if  we  published  tog 
from  the  letter-book,  all  thd 
patches  relating  to  the  cam^ 
which  Braddock  was  defeated, ' 
have  not  been  printed  by  Mr. 

The  history  of  that  disastrou 
paign   has    been    admirably 
once  and  again,  but  new  docu 
are  constantly  appearing  for  it9^ 
tration,     Mr.  Shea's  charmin|i 
collection  of  French  document 
lished  with  an  admirable  moc 
by  himself  in  the  French  lanfl 
certainly  throws  new  light  up 
whole  history.     It  is  a  curioualj 
plete   little   story,    bringing 
on   one  smaller  canvas   Washhfl 
Gage,    Franklin,    Keppel,    in 
young  life  ;  and  perhaps  it  may  I 
that  it  showed  them  all  about 
tinctly  as  the  larger  picture  of 
has  done.     This  ought  to  be 
Braddock^s  credit,  when  he  is 
for  his    failiu*e   to  compreheis 
country  in  which  he  was,    tbi 
two   Americans  whom  he  did 
ciate,  whose  advice  he    took 
certain  limits,  and  of  whom  he] 


Unpublished  Writings  of  Washington. 


p  ▼ery  high  terms,  were  George 
VmahingtoQ  and  Benjamin  Franklin. 
■hatever  history  has  done  for  Brad- 
pek  in  other  regards,  she  has  certain- 
k  confirmed  his  judgment  there. 

bbaddock's  campaign. 

Gen.  Braddock  had  landed  on 
\  twentieth  of  February  at  Hamp- 
I,  having  sent  Sir  John  St.  Clair 
him  as  his  quarter-master- 
Washingtou  was  at  Mount 
ion,  dissatisfied  with  the  treat- 
rat  he  had  received  from  the  royal 
iremors  after  the  campaign  of  the 
it  year,  and  holding  no  commission 
any  sort  in  the  army. 
The  transports  which  carried  a 
loasand  men  and  a  train  of  artillery 
him,  as  he  was  chafing  in  his 
itixement,  up  to  Alexandria;  Once 
again  he  visited  Alexandria  him- 
ri^  as  the  army  was  preparing  for 
campaign ;  and  having  intimated 
wish  to  join  the  expedition  as  a 
donteer,  he  received  a  cordial  let- 
from  Capt.  Robert  Ormc,  one  of 
Inddock's  aids,  inviting  Washing- 
to  join  Braddock's  staff,  at  the 
^neral's  order.  This  invitation  he 
ndially  accepted. 

At  this  period  Gov.  Dinwiddie  of 
bginia,  Qov.  Shirley  of  Massachu- 
ikts,  Grov.  Delancy  of  New  York, 
or.  Sharpe  of  Maryland,  and  Gov. 
of -Pennsylvania,  were  at  Al- 
midria  for  conference  with  Brad- 


favor     with     all 


135 

Young 


The  fiunoos  Keppel,  then  a  commo- 
commander  of  the  British  fleet, 
there    also.     Washington    was 
ented  to  all  these  gentlemen ;  and 
Irving  says  that  Shirley  struck 
as  the  model  of  a  gentleman  and 
•tttesman.     As  one  more  illustra- 
of  forgotten  reputations,  it  may 
■p«ud  that  Shidey  was  at  that  time 


in     high 
America.^ 

To  this  period  belongs  the  follow- 
ing letter,  which  explains  itself.  It 
will  be  understood  with  regard  to  all 
the  letters  which  we  print  in  this  ar- 
ticle, that  they  have  not  been  printed 
by  Mr.  Sparks  or  any  of  the  other 
collectors. 

To  the  ffan.    William  Birdy  Esq,* 
Westover.  ^     * 

MouHT  Verhon,  April  20,  1766. 

Dear  Sib,  —  I  am  sorry  that  it 
was  not  in  my  power  to  wait  upon 
you  at  Westover  last  Christmas.  I 
enjoyed  much  satisfaction  in  the 
thought  of  doing  it,  when  an  unex- 
pected accident  put  it  entirely  out  of 
my  power  to  comply,  either  with  my 
promise  or  inclination,  both  of  which 
prompted  me  to  make  the  visit. 

I  am  now  preparing  for,  and  shall 
in  a  few  days  set  off  to  serve  in,  the 
ensuing  campaign,  —  with  different 
views,  however,  from  those  I  had  be- 
fore;  for  here  if  I  can  gain  any 
credit,  or  if  I  am  entitled  to  the  least 
countenance  and  esteem,  it  must  be 
from  serving  my  country  without  fee 

1  Ncptane  and  Mara  in  council  s^e 

To  hamble  France's  pride. 
Whose  vain,  unbridled  Insolence 
Ail  other  powora  defied. 

The  god««  having  sat  in  deep  debate 

Upon  the  puzzling  theme, 
Broke  up  perplexed,  and  both  agreed 

Shirley  should  form  the  schumo. 

Shirley,  with  Britain's  glory  fired, 

Heaven's  favorite  smile  implored. 
"  Let  Louisburg  return,"  ho  said, 
"  Unto  iU  ancient  lord." 

These  stanzas,  with  five  more  like  them,  may 
be  found  in  The  Boston  News  LctU>r  for  Doc.  I'i, 
1745. 

«  Probably  the  son  of  William  Byrd,  the  au- 
thor of  The  Westover  Manuscript  I  Petersburg, 
1841],  who  died  1744.  The  beautiful  estate  at 
Westover,  on  the  James  River,  in  the  shire  of 
Charles  City,  will  be  well  remembered  by  all 
travellers.  The  Marquis  de  ChasU'llux,  who  was 
there  in  1782,  Is  enthusiasUo  in  praise  of  its  mag^ 
nlflocinoe,  Ito  beaaty  and  iU  looietY, 


136 


Unpublished  Writings  of  WaahingUm. 


^^  or  reward;  for,  I  can  truly  say,  I 
have  no  expectation  of  either.  To 
merit  its  esteem,  and  the  good 
wishes  of  my  friends^  is  the  sum 
of  my  ambition ;  having  no  prospect 
of  obtaining  a  commission,  being 
well  assured  it  is  not  in  Gen. 
Braddock's  power  to  give  such  an  one 
as  I  would  accept  of:  the  command 

•  of  a  company  is  the  highest  commis- 

sion vested  in  his  gift.  He  was  so 
obliging  as  to  desire  my  company 
this  campaign ;  has  honored  me  with 
particular  marks  of  his  esteem,  and 
kindly  invited  me  into  his  family,  a 
circumstance  which  will  ease  me  of 
expenses  that  must  otherwise  have 
accrued  in  furnishing  stores,  camp- 
equipage,  &c.  Whereas  the  cost  will 
now  be  easy  (comparatively  speak- 
ing), as  baggage,  horses,  tents,  and 
some  other  necessaries,  will  consti- 
tute the  whole  of  the  charge. 

^  Yet  to  have  a  family  just  settling, 

^P*     and  in  the  confusion  ^ 

think  mo  worthy  of  thoir  inquiries, 
I  am,  my  dear  sir, 

Your  most  obedient  scr\'ant, 

George  Washington. 

Bra<ldock  set  out  from  Alexan- 
dria, which  was  still  called  Bell  Haven 
in  conversation,  on  the  20th  of 
April.  Washington  remained  behind 
a  few  days,  arranging  his  affairs;  and 
we  get  a  glimpse  of  him,  as  he  was 
following  Braddock  to  Fredcricktown, 
in  the  following  lett(?r,  written  to 
Mrs.  Fairfax.  We  believe  Bullskin* 
may  have  some  rt^ference  to  the  now 
famous  Bull  Bun,  in  its  immediate 
vicinity.  But  of  this  the  Virginia 
historians  must  inform  us,  as  well  as 
on  the  relationship  of  Miss  Dent  to 
Mrs.  Gen.  Grant. 

>  A  gap  In  Uie  letter-book. 
*  An  o«ut«  toft  him  by  hto  brother,  Lawrenee 
A  WMhingtOD. 


To  Mrs.  Fairfax^  Bdpoir. 

HUMdMIW,  Apifll 

Deab  Madam, — In  ordei 
gage  your  correBpondence,  I  t 
is  incumbent  on  me  to  dese 
which  I  will  endeavor  to  do^ 
bracing  the  earliest  and  eveij 
tunity  of  writing  to  you. 

It  will  be  needless  to  dwell 
pleasure  that  a  corresponde 
this  kind  would  afford  me.:  lei 
fice  to  say,  a  correspondeni 
my  friends  is  the  greatest  i 
tion  I  expect  to  enjoy  in  the 
of  the  campaign;  and  tba 
none  shall  I  derive  such  aatii 
as  from  yours,  for  to  yon  ] 
indebteil  fbr  many  obligationti 

If  an  old  proverb  will  applj 
case,  I  shall  close  with  sncoi 
no  man  could  have  made  a  w« 
ginning  than  I  have  done.  4 
four  horses  which  I  broogh 
home,  one  I  have  killed  outrig 
the  other  three  are  rendered  u 
use ;  so  that  I  have  been  d 
here  three  days  already,  an 
much  longer  I  may  continue 
80,  time  can  only  discover. 

I  must  beg  my  complinM 
Mrs.  Fairfax,  Miss  Dent,  and 
that  think  me  worthy  of-.th 
quiries.  I  am,  madam,  ^ou: 
obedient  servant, 

George  Washb 

It  is  of  course  impossible  to 
which  Mrs.  Fairfax  this  lettei 
dressed ;  hut  we  suppose  it  to  I 
George  William  Fairfax,  the  • 
ter  of  C-ol.  Carey  of  Hampton, 
her  sister  of  whom  Mr.  Irvin| 
that  her  charms  seemed  to 
caused  a  slight  fluttering  in  Wi 
ton's  bosom  at  a  time  when  i 
suffering  from  the  sorrows  of  h 
sion  for  the  unknown  "fc 
beautj'."     Mr.  Irving*s  conjed 


Urqmblished  Writings  of  Washington. 


137 


the  lowUnd  be&utj  was  Miss 
^s  of  Westmorelaii<L  mother,  as 
*s.  of  "  Ltgfathorse  Hany  Lee." 
ingtOD  joined  BraJdock  at  Fred- 
>wn  (the  Fredericktown  of  Bar- 
'reiichiej ;  and  here,  on  the  10th 
V,  he  was  proclaimed  one  of  the 
i's  aids  officially.  At  Fiedeiv 
n  there  was  long  delay  for  pro- 
(  and  wagons,  and  it  was  here 
ranklin  met  Braddoek  and  won 
ror.  We  have  been  fortmiate 
1  to  lescne  from  a  contemporary 
let  which  is,  we  suppose,  aniqne, 
ription  of  the  impression  which 
[in  and  his  companions  made 
ignorant  soldier  in  the  English 

passage  has  escaped  the  notice 
[iklin^s  biographers.  The  cori- 
mphlet  from  which  it  was  taken 
loght  by  Mr.  Rich  for  Harvard 
e  in  184L  It  consists  of  five 
.  from  which  we  copy  these  pas- 
^om  the  last.  It  was  printed 
5.  immediately  after  BradJojk's 
is  were    known.     Mj*.  Sargent 

c^'  examining  it  after  the  text 
mo&ogr^h  on  Braddoek  was  re- 
L  bat  he  quotes  from  it  the  re- 

that  Braddock's  cooks  coald 
a  ragoat  oat  of  a  pair  of  boots. 

JPTIOX  OF  THZ  FIVE  QUAKE&S. 

Letter  V. 

ut  Sol  —  In  m  v  last  I  ac- 
ied  joa  with  the  joyful  news 
or  geoend  resolved  not  to  be 
o^er  put  up>n  by  the  Virgin- 
nirrs  were  given  for  our  march 
bat  the  day  before  that  was 
tad  there  arrived  five  Quakers 
It  dresDe^i,  they  were  pure 
men.  on  brave  fat  horses  which, 
way,  were  the  first  plump 
««  I  bad  seen  in  this  country. 
m  I  uid  jmi  before,  I  believed 


Virginia  was  peopled  bg  Pharaoh*s  lean 
kine,  bat  these  Quakers  seem  to  come 
from  the  land  of  Goshen,  tbey  kx^ed 
like  Christian  pe<^e ;  they  went 
directly  to  his  Elxcellence,  and  curios- 
ity carried  us  all  to  the  genend 
quarters.  They  came  with  thanks 
to  the  general  from  the  people  oi  Pen- 
silvania,  for  the  great  labour  he  had 
gone  through  in  advancing  so  far  into 
the  wOdemess  for  the  protection  of 
his  Majesty's  dutiful  subjects.  They 
acquainted  him  further,  that  they  had 
been  cutting  roads  to  meet  him  with 
a  number  of  waggons  loaded  with 
fiour,  cheese,  bacon,  and  other  pro- 
vision, tho'  this  was  gooti  news  I 
did  but  half  like  it,  I  fear'd  it  would 
occasion  our  stay,  and  prevent  our 
marching  back ;  besides  it  was  omi- 
nous, your  cheese  and  your  bacon 
being  the  baits  that  draw  rats  to  de- 
struction, and  it  proved  but  too  true  ; 
this  bait  drew  us  into  a  trap,  where 
happy  was  he  that  came  off  wiih  the 
loss  of  his  tail  only.  This  evt^ning 
we  saw  the  road  and  wag-jrons  and 
the  men  eat,  this  was  a  duty  so  I'jng 
disused,  that  it  was  a  tour  of  fa:i;^ue 
to  the  teeth.  The  fellows  who  dr>ve 
the  wajrgoiLS,  tho'  they  would  have 
made  but  a  shabby  figure  amongst  our 
Hamj^shire  carter*,  yet  here  they 
looked  like  angels  compare^i  with  the 
long,  lank,  yeilow-faoeil  Vir;^inians, 
who  at  best  are  a  half-starved,  ragijed, 
dirty  set :  if  by  accident  th^y  can 
clear  enough  by  their  tobacco  t  j  buy 
a  coat,  they  rather  chuse  a  half-wore 
gaudy  rag,  than  a  substantial  c«jarse 
cloth,  or  kersey ;  they  are  the  very 
opposites  to  the  Pen-ilvaniaas,  who 
buy  coats  of  cloth  so  strong  as  to  last 
as  long  as  the  garments  of  the  Israel- 
ites in  their  march  through  the  des- 
ert ;  a  coat  serves  a  man  for  his  life 
and  yet  looks  fresh,  but  this  comes 
from   their   never   wearing   them    at 


Unpublished  Writings  of  Waskington. 

ome ;  wlien  out  of  sight  i\wj  work    also,  they  woald  be  the  Guanl 


naked.     They  are  a  very  frugal 
ople,  and  if  they  were  not  so  would 
ft*  beggarly  as   their  ueighboura 

be  Virginians.  • 


colonies  with  very  small  exp^ 
England. 

The  General  not  only  heai 
proposal  with  pleasure,  and  cot 
cated  it  to  most  of  the   ofBei 
doubted  if  he  had  power  to 
it.     Some  of  the  braggadocio 


I 


bar  with  eight  hundred  me  a. 

As  early  as  the  14th  of  May, 
ington  was  at  Fort   Cumberia 


FROM 


But  to  return  to  our  Quakers,  the 
Jhief  of  them  told  the  general   that 

be  finir*d  greatly  for  the  safety  of  the    iana,  who  last  year  ran  away  so 

rarmy  j  that  the  wtx>ds,  the  further  we    began  to  clamor  against  the  (, 

went,  would  be  the  more  dangerous  }    and  the  General ;  so  we  manth< 

■and  the  French  were  a  subtle  and  dar-  the  General  got  a^  far  as  the  mi 
ing  enemy,  and  would  not  neglect  any  where,  to  hasten  our  march,  h 
ojHiort unity  of  surprising  us  ;  that  fied  and  intrenched  a  camp,  a 
tlui  further  we  went  the  more  difficult  the  heavy  baggiige,  sick  me 
it  would  be  to  supply  us  with  provis-    spare  provision,  &c.,  and  to  oo 

■  ions,  and  that  the  country  was  not    communication,  he  left  Colons 
Wurth  keepings  much  less  conquering. 
Til"    Frtmch    not    yet   knowing^  our 
force  wt^re  in  terror,  and  if  he  sent 
Ifcould  perhaps   come    into  a   treaty; 

that  puiice  was  a  heavenly  thing ;  and  Cumberland) ;  and  from  this 
as  fur  the  country  in  dispute  it  was  writes  the  following  letters 
mi^n'prc^^.mUH)  by  tliose  pnjjectors,  fourteenth  to  his  brother  and 
who  IhmI  aome  private  advantage  ;  for  Carlyl©  :  — 
it  was  tit  for  none  but  Indians,  the 
soil  batlj  far  from  the  sea,  and  navi- 
gation ;  th^nvture  he  thought  if  the 
French  would  al>Hudon  and  destroy 
their  f«»rta  iiud  we  do  tlie  same,  and 
leave  the  lauds  to  their  rightful 
owners  t!ie  Indians^  on  condition  that 
that  nation  should  pay  some  furrs  and 

deer  Jik ins,  by  way  of  tribute,  to  our  overtook  the  General  at  FredOT 
most  gracious  King  George,  a  paeifi-  in  Maryland ;  from  whence  ' 
cation  might  be  established  till  the  eeed  by  slow  marches  to  tUi 
matter  was  made  up  before  his  Maj-  where,  I  fear,  we  sliall  remat 
esty.  That  General  Oglethorp  had  time,  for  want  of  horses  and  O 
in  that  manner  settled  all  dift'erences  to  curry  our  baggage,  &"c.,  c 
with  the  Spaniards  on  the  southern  mountains;  but  more  especi 
frontiers,  towards  Florida,  and  the  want  of  forage,  as  it  cannot 
Accnrdlasted  to  this  day;  on  the  other  agined  that  so  many  horsea 
hand  he  said,  that  if  the  French  re-  require  will  be  snhsisted  wi 
fused,  then  the  Indians,  who  are  a  great  deal 
free  and  warlike  nation,  and  nmfh  too  We  hear  nothing  particul 
powerful  to  be  despised,  would  proba-  the  Ohio,  except  that  the  Fw 
bly  take  our  side ;  if  we  would  pull  in  hourly  expectation  of  beinj 
down  the  French  Forts,  and  our  own  iThiApyactuftUoafoUowitb*! 


GEORGE     TO     Al 
WASHINGTON. 

To    Colored   Au4juHtii^    Wail 
Westmoreland  County, 

FoErr  CuMBE]tt.AjrD,  14th  Ml 

Dear  Bhotbbh,  —  I  left  h 
twenty-fourth    of    last     mon 


Unpublished  Writings  of  Washington. 


139 


Urge  body  of  Indians;   bat  I 

they  will   find   themselves  so 

J  attacked  in  other  places,  that 

not  be  convenient  for  them  to 

many. 

n  treated  with  freedom^  not  in- 
tent with  respect,  by  the  Grenend 
lis  Cunily.  I  have  no  doubt, 
tne,  bat  that  I  shall  spend  my 
nore  agreeably  than  profitably 
I  the  campaign,  —  as  I  con- 
a  little  experience  will  be  my 
reward. 
ise  to  give  my  love  to  my  sister, 

D,  dear  sir,  yoor  most  affection- 
Kher, 

George  Washington. 

gs  washington   to    major 

CA&LTLE. 

{ajor  John  Oarlyle,  present  at 
Uiam^urgh. 

Fan  Ccncu.A3n>,  14Ui  of  May,  1766. 
.  —  I  overtook  the  General  at 
ricktown,  in  Maryland,  and  pro- 
1  with  him  by  way  of  Winches- 
>  this  plage,  which  gave  him  a 
opporttmity  to  see  the  absurdity 
s  route,  and  of  damning  *  it  very 
ily.  CoL  Dunbar's  regiment 
Udo  obliged  to  re-cross  at  Con- 
ger, and  come  down  within  six 
i  of  Winchester  to  take  the  new 
to  Will's  Creek,  which,  from  the 
rdity  of  it,  was  laughable  enough, 
'e  are  to  halt  here  till  forage  can 
voQjrht  from  Phila<lelphia,  which 
ppoee  will  introduce  the  month  of 
«;  and  then  we  are  to  proceed 
I  oar  tremendous  undertaking  of 
Mporting  the  heavy  artillery  over 

awQQtains,  which,  I  believe,  will 
ipw  the  greatest  difficulty  of  the 
ipiign;  for,  as  to  any  apprehen- 

•BfB  tlM  l«tter>book,  but  Mr. 


sions  of  the  enemy,  I  think  they  are 
more  to  be  provided  against  than  re- 
garded, as  I  £Eincy  the  French  will 
be  obliged  to  draw  their  force  from 
the  Ohio,  to^repel  the  attack  from  the 
north  under  the  command  of  Grov. 
Shirley,  &c.,  who  will  make  three  dif- 
ferent attempts  immediately. 

I  could  wish  to  hear  what  the  as- 
sembly and  others  have  done  and  are 
doing,  together  with  such  other  oc- 
currences as  have  happened  since  my 
departure. 

I  am  in  very  great  want  of  boots, 
and  have  desired  my  brother  John  to 
purchase  a  pair  and  send  them  by 
you,  who  I  hope  will  contrive  to  get 
them  to  me  by  the  first  opportu- 
nity. 

I  have  written  to  my  old  correspond- 
ent, Mrs.  Carlyle,  and  must  beg  my 
compliments  to  my  good  friend  Dal- 
ton,&c. 

I  am,  dear  sir,  your  most   humble       ^ 
servant, 

George  Washington. 

The  detention  into  June  took 
place.  It  was  at  CumV»erlan«l  and 
Will's  Creek  that  Braddook  met  the 
Indian  chiefs  and  made  his  treaties 
with  them.  Washington  was  sent 
across  the  State  of  Virginia  to  Wil- 
liamsburg to  bring  on  four  thousand 
pounds  for  the  military  chest.  After 
his  return  he  wrote  the  following  let- 
ter to  his  mother.  It  seems  that  the 
conveniences  of  slavery  did  not  pre- 
vent her  from  needing  German  help, 
nor  the  exigencies  of  a  campain^n 
hinder  her  from  calling  on  her  son  to 
help  her.  How  curious  the  fortunes 
of  American  history !  The  earliest 
Winthrop  papers  in  New  England, 
like  these  earliest  memorials  of 
Washington,  are  lighted  up  by  nego- 
tiations for  "  help "  for  the  ladies 
who  are  alluded  to.  j| 


uo 


Unpublished   Writings  of  Washingtovu 


GEORGE 


WASHIXGTOX 
MOTHEB. 


TO      HIS 


. 


Ta  Mrs,  Washington. 

Neak  Fsedbricki»buiuz»  Camp  at  Wnx's 

Hok'd  MAt>A3i,  —  I  was  favored 
with  your  letter,  l\v  Mr.  Dick,  and 
am  sorry  it  is  not  in  ray  power  to 
provide  you  with  a  Duteli  servant,  or 
the  butter^  agreeably  to  your  desire. 
We  are  rjuite  out  of  the  part  of  the 
country  wherein  either  is  to  be  had, 
there  being  few  or  no  inhabitants 
where  we  now  lie  encamped;  and 
butter  cannot  be  bad  here  to  supply 
the  w^ant^  of  the  army, 

I  am  sorry  it  was  not  in  my  pow- 
er to  call  upon  you  as  I  went  to  or 
returned  from  Williamsburgh.  The 
busiues«  that  I  went  upon  (viz.,  mon- 
ey for  the  army)  would  not  sutier  an 
hour*s  dfday. 

I  ho  pi*  you  will  spend  the  chief 
part  of  your  time  at  Mount  Vernon, 
iki  you  have  proposed  to  do;  where,  I 
am  certain,  every  thing  will  be  or- 
dered as  i!iuch  for  your  satiisfactiori 
as  possible,  in  the  situation  we  are  in 
there. 

There  is  a  detachment  of  five  hun- 
dred men  marched  from  this  camp 
toward  the  Alleghany,- — to  prepare 
the  roads,  &o,,&c.  j  it  is  imagined  the 
main  body  will  move  in  about  five 
days'  time. 

As  nothing  else  remarkable  occurs 
to  me,  I  shall  conclude  (after  begging 
my  love  and  compliments  to  all 
friends),  dear  madam, 

Your  must  afTc  and  dutiful  son, 
^  Gkorge  Washington. 

^^^  The  army  moved  fr»>m  the  camp  at 

I  AViir»    Creek   on    the  lOtli  of  June, 

I  readied  the  Little  Meiuiows  on  the 

W  IGth,  left  Washington  ?ick  at  yougliio- 

|A  geny  on  the  24th,  and  on  the  4th  of 


July   encamped    at    Thicks 
From   this    point   tbe    anoy 
slowly,  and  on  the  8tb  of  Jul 
ington  overtook  them  just  in 
the   massacre,      Braddcnrk    h&j 
a  month  in  marching  little  m 
a  hundred    miles.     Hor*M!«* 
whit  in  a  cant  phrase  of  the 
called  Braddock  **  an  Iroqw 
of    this    murcli     truly    enou 
"Braddock  d^ies  not  march 
was  at  all  itu patient  ta  be 
But  the  end  had  now  come. 
We  do  not  propose  lo  repi 
history  of  the   buttle,     Mr. 
the   French  monograph   to 
have  alluded;  calls  attention 
fa(!t,  which  seems  to  be  bey 
troversy,  that  there  was  wo 
on  the  i>art  of  the  French. 

Beaujeu,   their    command' 
have  been  glad  to  clieck    Bj 
advance  at  the  crossing  of  tho 
gahela,  which  the  French 
Ma  la  II  ffeule.  M  r.  Shea  sayn  i 
"  The  hesitation  of  the  savagea 
jcu's   allies)    delayed    his   mfl 
long,  that  the  enemy  had  cross 
river,  and  passed  the   place  wh 
had  selected  tor  his  ambusca«I 
hatl  no  choice  left  him   but   to 
the  Englisli  in  front.  The  Engl 
Aiuerican  historians  in    genei 
among  others    Irving,    Everv 
Lossing  recently,  speak  of  this 
as  from  an  ambuscade,     Th 
error.     The  Frencli  army,  if  tli 
be  called  an  army  which  Wits 
cal  1  s  a  ha ti d  fu I  of  F ren c h  lu e ti 
itself  in  open  siglit  upon  tlio 
atlvauce.     Beaujeu  was  at   tt 
of  his  braves,  dressed  as   a  V 
eha»iieur,  and  tlistinguished  as 
cer  by  his  gorget.     After 
charge    he    divided    his 
attacked  the  English  on  bor) 
taking  care  to  cover  himself 
The  English  stood  lirmly,  anj 


Unpublished  WriHngs  of  Washington. 


141 


i  themselves  with  their  artil- 
musketry.  Beaujeu  fell  dead 
?  Sieur  de  Carqueville,  bis 
at.      La    Perade,    Sieur    de 

ensigu,  and  the  Sieur  de  Hei> 
t,  were  wounded.  But  the  car- 

the  French  and  the  savagea 
errible  slaughter  in  the  £ng- 
ks.  The  officers  fell  on  all 
iYhen  the  savages  saw  that 
my  dared  not  pursue  them, 
rew  themselves  upon  them 
rk  in  hand.  The  rout  then 
general.'' 

lave  Washington's  own  ao 
r  this  battle  in  two  or  three 
[>ne  of  which  Mr.  Sparks  has 
Another  of  them,  of  which 
,  a  part  in  a  foot-note,  is  his 

Gov.  Dinwiddie  of  Virginia, 
bing  as  nearly  as  possible  the 
^r  of  an  official  report  As 
inwiddie  published  it  at  the 
ind  it  appears  in  the  contem- 
Virginian,  Philadelphia,  and 
papers,  as  a  letter  from  a  Vir- 
afficer.  Mr.  Sargent,  the  ac- 
hed  historian   of   Braddock's 

quotes  from  this  letter  as  he 
t  in  "  The  Pennsylvania  Ga- 
the  fine  phrase,  "  The  Virginia 

and  troops  behaved  like  men 
id  h'ke  soldiers."  But  he  was 
are  that  in  these  words  he  was 
I  the  language  of  the  first  sol- 
Virginia.  Mr.  Irving  has  the 
ftter,  and  used  it.  We  copy  it 
m  the  original  letter-book,  not 
Bering  to  liave  seen  the  whole 

print  elsewhere. 

:QK   WASHINGTON    TO    GOV. 
DIXWIDDIE. 

Hofu  Robert  Dinwiddie,  Esq., 
ianisbujyh. 

For  CcnEKLAXi>,  July  18, 1755. 

OBABLE  Sib,  —  As  I  am  favored 
I  opportunityy  I  ahould  think 


myself  inexcusable  was  I  to  omit 
giving  you  some  account  of  our  late 
engagement  with  the  French  on  the 
Monongahela,  the  ninth  instant. 

We  continued  our  march  from  Fort 
Cumberland  to  Frazer's  (which  is 
within  seven  miles  of  Du  Quesne) 
without  meeting  any  extraordinary 
event,  having  only  a  straggler  or  two 
picked  up  by  the  French  Indians. 
When  we  came  to  this  place  we  were 
attacked  (very  unexpectedly)  by 
about  three  hundred  French  and 
Indians.  Our  numbers  consisted  of 
about  thirteen  hundred  well-armed 
men,  chiefly  regulars,  who  were  imme- 
diately struck  with  such  an  incon- 
ceivable panic,  that  nothing  but  con- 
fusion and  disobedience  of  orders 
prevailed  among  them.  The  officers 
in  general  behaved  with  incompara- 
ble bravery,  for  which  they  greatly 
suffered;  there  being  near  sixty 
killed  and  wounded,  a  large  propor- 
tion out  of  the  number  we  bad. 

The  Virginia  companies  behaved 
like  men  and  died  like  soldiers ;  for, 
I  believe,  out  of  three  companies 
that  were  on  the  ground  that  day, 
scarce  thirty  were  left  alive.  Capt. 
Peyroune  and  all  his  officers  down 
to  a  corporal  were  killed.  Capt. 
Poison  had  almost  as  hard  a  fate,  for 
only  one  of  his  escaped. 

In  short,  the  dastardly  behavior  of 
the  regular  troops  (so  called;  exposed 
those  who  were  inclined  to  do  their 
duty  to  almost  certain  death  ;  and  at 
length,  in  spite  of  every  effort  to  the 
contrary,  [they]  broke  and  ran  as 
sheep  before  hounds,  leaving  the  ar- 
tillery, ammunition,  provisions,  bag- 
gage, and  in  short  every  thing,  a 
prey  to  the  enemy  ;  and  when  we  en- 
deavored to  rally  them  in  hopes  of 
regaining  the  ground  and  what  we 
had  left  upon  it,  it  was  with  as  little 
success  as   if  we   had  attempted   to 


142 


Unpublished   Writings  of  Wa$hingi(m. 


have  stopped  the  wild  bears  of  the 
m QUI! tains,  or  rivulets  with  our  feet ; 
for  they  would  break  by  in  despite  of 
every  effort  that  could  be  made  to 
prevent  it 

The  General  was  wounded  in  the 
shouhler  and  breast,  of  wliich  he 
died  throe  daj's  after;  his  two  aides- 
de-camp  were  both  wounded,  but  are 
in  a  fair  way  of  re<:overing,  Coh 
Barton  and  Sir  John  St.  Clair  are 
also  wounded,  and  I  hope  will  get 
over  it  Sir  Teter  Llallvet,  with  many 
other  brave  officers,  were  killed  in  the 
field*  It  is  supposed  that  we  h*d 
three  hundred  or  more  killed :  about 
that  number  we  brought  off  wounded; 
and  it  is  conjectured  (I  believe  with 
much  truth)  that  two  thirds  of  both 
received  their  shot  from  our  own  cow- 
ardly regulara,^  who  gathered  them- 
selves into  a  body,  contrary  to  orders, 
ten  or  twelve  deep;  would  then  fire 
and  shoot  down  the  men  before  them, 

I  tremble  at  the  cousetjueuce  that 
this  defeat  nnay  have  upon  our  back 
settlers,  who,  I  8up|>ose,  will  all  leave 
their  1 1  abi  tilt  ions,  unlesst  there  are  prop- 
er TO ea.su res  taken  for  their  security. 

Col  Dunbar,  who  commands  at 
pre  sen  ty  intends^  as  soon  as  his  men 
are  reunited  at  Xhm  place,  to  continue 
his  march  to  Philadelpliia  for  winter 
quarters:  co n si equeutly  there  will  be 
no  men  left  liere,  unless  it  is  the 
shattered  remains  of  the  Virginia 
troops,  who  are  totilly  inadequate  to 
the  pro te ct ion  of  t h e  fron t i e rs. 

As  Capt  Orme  is  writing  to  you, 
however,  1  doubt  not  but  that  he  will 
give  you  a  circumstantial  aecount  of 
all  things;  which  will  make  it  need- 
less for  me  to  add  more  than  tliat  I 
am,  honorable  sir,  your  most  obe<lient 
and  most  humble  servant, 

Geokgic  Washington. 

»Tt   wiu   suppos4M!   that  G«o»  Brnddock  wm 
■bot  liy  one  of  lil*  owu  oioti. 


The  terror  inflicted  by  this 
knew  no  bounds.      It  will   bisl 
that  in  seven  days  the  array  njO 
over  the   roa<i    which   it   had 
a   montli    to   cross.     Tobias  S 
saya  of  the  whole,  "  It  was 
the  most   extraordinary  rictoi; 
ever  was  obtained,  and  the  moetj 
ordinary  flight  that  ever  was  i 

The  contemporary  view  of 
tie  and  the  retreat,  after  it  W9^\ 
known,  may  be  judged  of 
following    letter    of    the    cell 
Keppel,    never  published     till 
We  are  permitted  to  copy  it 
autograph  in  the   collections 
American  Antiquariim  Society, 
pel,  as  we  have   said|  had  coa^ 
the  transports  to  Virginia.     He 
writes    to   Gov*  Lawrence    of 
Scotia,  —  the      Gov,    Lawren 
"  Evangeline.'^     Lawrence  mti 
got  this  letter  just  in  the  midst  < 
Evangeline    mist*ry.     For  it 
the  tifth   September,  ten   days] 
Keppel   wrote,  that  the   -^sk 
Beau-Sejour  were  assembled  at  i 
Pre  to  receive  his  Majesty's  or 
their  exile,  and  on  the    lOth 
tern  her  that  their  removal 

COMMODORE  KEPP£I«  TO  Q0% 
LAWRENCE. 

Skahor'^k,  at  Sea,  Jalf  1 
I  have  received  the  favor  of  i 
different  letters  from  you   Ufi 
Majesty's  service/ and  waa 
point  of  sailing  to  your  port;  1 
the  melancholy  report  of  the  del 
the  king's  troops  under  Gen.  Br 
stop|>ed  me,  and  immediately  a!l 
ceivi ng  Admiral  Bo8cawen*s  or 
am  prevented  having  the  jileasu 
seeing  you;   but  I  must  give  yfl 
of  your  being  so  mut  h  innn*  ffTH 
guarded* 

Between    the    fir^r,    report 
General's  death  and  any  coafi 


Ui^published  Writings  of  Washington. 


143 


toTT,  there  was  a  space  of  ten 
hich  gave  me  flattering  hopes 
was  only  report ;  but  the  day 
'esterdaj  I  received  a  confirma- 
t  by  express  from  Will's  Creek. 
ne,  although  it  is  a  melancholy 
,  you  would  be  glad  of  the  par- 
^  and  have  enclosed  you  a  list 
cilled  and  wounded,  a  copy  of 
rfrom  Mr.  Orme,  Gren.  firad- 
aide^e-<amp  to  me,  and  a  copy 

Washington's  (who  was  like- 
e  Greneral's  aide-^-camp)  to 
twiddle.  Great  blame  and 
is  laid  to  the  charge  of  the  pri- 
en  of  poor  Sir  Peter  Halket  and 
onbar's  regiment  that  was  upon 
iC  The  loss  of  the  artillery[Mc] 
rievabley  as  it  enables  the  French 
ify  themselves  so  strongly ;  and  I 
»y  much  the  credit  of  the  Brit- 
Bt  among  the  Indians  wiU  now 
:.  A  number  of  unhappy  circum- 
s  will  attend  this  defeat :  it- may 

Gen.  Shirley  in  his  attack 
it  Niagara,  as  well  as  many  other 
ions  that  were  proposed. 
Te  jOQ  joy  that  your  expedition 
e  Bay  has  succeeded  so  well ; 
wish,  sir,  you  may  always  be  as 
^uL  I  am  too  far  to  receive 
commands  from  England,  and 
r.  Tour  most  obedient  and  most 
\t  servant, 

A.  Eeppel. 

iddock's  defeat  found  its  way 
ktioD;  and  among  the  books 
litrate  it,  in  Mr.  Winsor's  use- 
aulogue  of  books  of  historical 
a,  must  be  named  Sandford  and 
01.  Here  is  the  account  of  the 
B,  as  a  wandering  soldier  tells  it 
.  There  are  some  points  in  this 
Qttntive  which  look  as  though 
^j  had  really  talked  with  some 
*  vho  had  been  on  the  ground. 
It  OBtend  %  swampy  vaUey  sur- 


rounded by  shade.  It  was  impossi- 
ble to  continue  our  march  without 
disordering  our  ranks;  and  part  of 
the  army  extended  itself  beyond  the 
rest,  while  another  part  of  the  line 
involuntarily  fell  behind. 

"  While  the  officers  were  rectifying 
the  disorder  of  their  men,  a  sudden 
noise  of  musketry  was  heard  in  front, 
which  stretched  about  twenty  of  our 
men  up(Hi  the  field.  The  sokliers  in- 
stinctively fired  towards  the  part 
whence  they  were  attacked,  and  in- 
stantly fell  back  in  disorder.  But  it 
was  equally  in  vain  to  retreat  or  to 
go  forward;  for  it  now  appeared  that 
we  were  completely  hemmed  in.  On 
every  side  resounded  the  peals  of 
scattering  fire,  that  thinned  oar 
ranks.  After  a  few  unavailing  dL»- 
charges,  the  ranks  were  broken,  and 
all  subordination  lost.  The  woo*  Is 
resounded  with  cries  and  groans,  and 
fruitless  attempts  of  our  gallant  of- 
ficers to  rally  their  men.  By  inter- 
vals was  heard  the  yell  of  the  vict*>- 
rious  savages,  who  now  began  to 
leave  the  covert,  and  hew  down  th«>5<; 
who  fled  with  unrelenting  cruelty. 
Those  who  st4X)d  and  those  who  li^-'l 
were  exposed  to  equal  danger ;  thoj-e 
who  kept  their  rank,  and  endeavors- 1 
to  repel  the  enemy,  expo»e<i  tht;ir 
persons  to  their  fire,  and  were  suc- 
cessively shot  down,  as  happened  to 
most  of  our  unfortunate  offi'-^r- ; 
while  those  who  fled  frequently 
rushed  upon  death. 

"A  small  number  of  Highland<-M 
sheltered  themselves  behind  the  ne:ir- 
est  trees,  and  began  to  tire  with  more 
success  at  the  enemy,  who  now  ex- 
posed themselves  with  less  reserve. 
This  seemed  to  confound  them ;  and, 
had  not  the  panic  been  so  general,  it 
is  possible  that  this  eflbrt  might  have 
changed  the  fortune  of  the  fight ;  for, 
in    another  quarter,   the    provincial 


144 


Unpublished  Writings  of  Washington. 


troops  behaved  with  the  greatest 
bravery,  and,  ihougli  deserted  hy  the 
European  forces^  eflfected  their  own 
rt*  treat. 

**  But  it  was  now  too  late  to  hope 
for  victory,  or  even  safety  :  the  rankij 
were  broken  on  every  side,  the 
greater  part  of  our  officers  slain  or 
tVDunded,  and  our  general  had  ex- 
piated with  hift  life  his  fatal  rash- 
ness/' 

**The  whole  transaction,"  &ays 
Franklin,  '*  gave  us  otir  hrst  suspicion 
that  uur  exalted  ideas  of  the  prowess 
of  Brittiih  regular  troops  had  not 
been  well  founded."  CoL  Dunbar, 
who  WJ13  left  in  command  by  the 
death  of  Braddock  and  others,  seems 
to  have  been  as  much  terrified  as  any 
of  his  men.  He  continued  his  llight 
to  Philadelphia. 

We  hav*3  no  puqKjMe  of  writing  the 
life  of  Wa'^hington  for  that  wretched 
Bumroer.  Mr.  Irving  leaves  nothing 
to  be  desired,  in  that  regard,  so  mas- 
terly is  his  narrative,  and  so  skilfully 
enlivened  by  every  scrap  of  an  anec- 
dote which  survives.*  Our  wish  is 
?* imply  to  print  all  the  Washington 
letters  which  belong  to  that  campaign 
which  have  not  been  published  in  the 
collections,  and  to  give  to  these  the 
necessary  explanations*  The  next  in 
the  series  is  to  his  fellow-aid,  Major 
Orme,  with  whom  he  always  re- 
tained an  intimate  regard.  What  an 
Egachee  is  we  do  not  know. 

WA8HIXOTON  TO    OUME. 
To  Robert  Orme,  Esq.,  Philadelphta, 

MOCNT  Vkrkon.  July  23, 1755. 

My  Dkar  Orme,  —  I  arrived  at 
home  the  day  before  yesterdayt  with- 
out meeting  with  an  Egachee  or  any 

*  II  may  b«  obitrved  that  Oarlylc  in  hl»  Frcdf-r- 
lcklh>-  Grout  liAif  »  MS  outlioHtf  whiab  ourblatoh 
rlMnn  hnvi^  »ot  xttuwl,  which  is  the  oiiiftniit  from 
vtttrh  ihv  OoT«rauient  Osaetto  of  the  dmy  wm 
uocnittlud. 


other  remarkable  event.  I  call 
Bell  haven,*  on  purjiose  to  nc<f 
Major  Carlyle  with  your  de&irC) 
will  use  all  possible  mean?  to  pp 
a  vessel ;  though  I  fear  it  wil 
difficult  to  do  it  at  prestent,  ai 
shipping  are  most  of  them  empl 
in  transporting  tobacco  from  th| 
ferent  warehouses  to  Europe. 

It  is  impo8sible  to  relate  the  d 
ent  accounts  that  were  given  o 
late  unhappy  engagement,  al 
which  tend  greatly  to  the  diaai 
tage  of  the  poor  deceased  ge] 
who  is  censured  on  all  hands. 

As  I  have  no  certain  convey 
for  this  letter,  T  shall  only  adt 
sincere  compliments  to  Morris 
ton,  Gage  and  Dobsonj  an 
take  another  op jKirt unity  of  | 
to  you  at  Philadelphia,  and 
more  particular^  I  am, 
Orme, 

Your  truly  affectionate 

G.  Wasjb 

In  continuation — I  should 
[as]     particularly    kind,    if 
would  get  the  orders  cojued 
16th  of  June  to    the   9th 
and  send  them  to  me   by 
sate  conveyance. 


Now  began  the  preparation  i 
colony  for  its  own  defence,, 
home  government  was  teach| 
colonists,  in  some  bitter  expel^ 
that  they  wouhl  have  to  take  cai 
themselves.  On  the  14th  of 
gust,  Washington  rec4?ived  is 
gence  that  he  had  been  appointi 
the  command  of  the  Virginia  fi 
with  a  right  to  apjwint  his  own 
orticers.  Thia,  at  the  age  of  twi 
three,  was  a  handsome  compHi 
pressed  by  the  Assembly  in  fttA 
the   governors    preference 

1  AksMidilA. 


UfqntblisJied  Writinga  of  Washington. 


145 


»L  Washington  fixed  his  head- 
en  at  Winchester.  And  at 
he&ter  we  most  leave  these  in- 
ing  memorials  of  his  young  life. 
are  letters  to  Lighthorse  Har- 
ioog  letters  on  enlisting  Indi- 
uioos  despatches  shovring  how 
he  was  in  '^  his  Majesty's  ser- 
and  terrible  indignation  in  a 
popular  panic,  which  set  all 
ia  of  the  Valley  running  away. 
do  not  remember  that  any  of 
Ajnerican  poets"  have  ever 
xed  Washington  under  his  In- 
ame.  It  seems  from  a  letter 
»t.  Montour  that  the  Indians 
ren  to  him  the  name  of  Conoto- 


DfGTOX     TO   CAPT.    MONTOUR. 
WiacHnnm,  Oet.  10,  17&S. 
Recommend  me  kindly  to  our 
iend  Monocatoothe  and  others, 
em  how  happy  it  would  make 
canrious  to  have  an   opportu- 

sbaking  them  by  the  hand  at 
.^amberlaod,  and  how  glad  be 

be  to  treat  with  them  as 
r»  of  our  great  king  beyond 
ters. 

have  already  seen  what  the 
king  beyond  the  waters, 
i  II.,  said  of  Washington,  tbe 
in>e,  probably,  that  he  ever 
of  him-  On  the  other  hand, 
Qgton,  in  a  patriotic  letter  to 
rginia  House  of  Burgesses,  in 
called  George  "the  best  of 
Mr.  Thackeray,  with  rather 
opportunities  forjudging,  calls 
?  *•  the  old  pagan,"  "  the  strut- 
iirkey-cock,''  "  the  little  old 
t,'*  and  characterizes  him  as 
rho  had  neither  dignity,  learn- 
;«aU,  uoT  wit ;  who  tainted  a 
ociety  by  a  had  example  ;  who 
h^  manhnodi  <^  age,  was  gross. 


low,  and  sensual''  At  first  glance 
this  seems  a  good  way  off  &om  <'  the 
best  of  kings."  But  when  one  re- 
members that  Washington  was  prob- 
ably thinking  of  the  kings  of  his 
own  day,  —  say  of  August  of  Sax- 
ony, Frederic  of  Prussia,  Louis  XV., 
and  Greorge  11.,  one  sees  that  he 
had  a  delicate  line  to  draw.  Per- 
haps in  that  company  Greorge  II.  was 
"  best  of  kings." 

DESPATCHES    OF  THE   REVOLUTION. 

For  comparison  with  these  early 
papers,  we  now  print,  also  from  let- 
ters which  have  never  before  been 
published  in  any  of  the  collections, 
some  of  the  more  characteristic  of 
the  despatches  written  in  the  war. 
The  Braddock  letters  show  what 
Washington  was  as  a  boy  of  twenty- 
three.  Here  he  is  at  forty-four  and 
older,  in  the  midst  of  the  highest  re- 
sponsibility and  activity.  But  the 
habit  of  thought,  of  action,  and  of 
expression,  is  substantially  the^same 
as  in  the  early  letters.  These  letters 
will  require  little  illustration  beyond 
what  is  rendered  them  in  tbe  paper 
on  the  military  strategy  of  Washing- 
ton, printed  in  another  jiart  of  this 
number.  With  one  or  two  excep- 
tions these  are  copied  from  the  pa- 
pers in  the  Heath  collection,  now  in 
the  possession  of  the  ^lassachusetts 
Historical  Society.  These  despatches 
show,  at  the  same  time,  what  endless 
detail  was  thrust  on  the  commander- 
in-chief.  Washington  was  more  an- 
noyed by  quartermasters'  details,  in 
his  charge  of  an  array  of  ten  thou- 
sand men,  than  Gen.  Grant  in  the 
charge  of  a  million. 

WASHINGTON   TO    GEN.    HEATH. 
Ukad-quartkibs,  Nkv  York,  Acq.  26,  177ft. 

Dear  Sir,  —  I  have  now  before 
me  your  letters  of  the  twenty-third 
and  twenty-fourth  of  this  inst,  with 


146 


Unpublished  Writings  of  Washington. 


respect  to  the  detiicliment  I  directed    summoning  the  officers  (under 
on   the  twonty-thirtl.     I  conrcivo   it    tion  from  me)  to  consider  of  this 
to  hty  hij^hly  exj>i*dient  that  they  be    ter,  that  the  lists  mjiy  bo  forwi 
kept  in  the  most  perfect  K?Qdiness  to    The  committee  of  Congress  di| 
act    as  tUe  cireiimst^ncea   of   aftiiirs    this;  Gen.    Lincoln  earnestly  rt 
may  render  m.^i-essary.     The  pre^^ent 
iippcara n  <•  e  of  t  h  J  n  g.s  st* e  m  s  to  i  n  tl  io ate 
an  intention  in   the  enemy  to  make 
their  capital  impression  on  the   side 
of  Lon^  I!^land ;  but  thi»  may  possibly 


mended  it;  Gov.  Triinibnll  hi 
quested  it  in  precise  terms ;  —  io  I 
the  good  of  the  scr%ncL»,  and  our* 
rundera  it  necessary,  let  it  b 
ceived   in    never    so    nnfavoml 


beseech  you  once  more  to  deft 
time;  and  I  beseech  3*ou  to 
tlie  ofHcers  you  consult  to  lay 
all  local  prejudices  and  attach 
in  their  choice :  the  sdvati^l 
their  country,  and  all  we  are  coi 
ing  for^  depenfls  (under  Provii 


be    only  a    feint,  to   draw  over    oxir    light  (which,  by  the  by,  I  do  noi 

troopr*   to   that    quarter,  in    order   to    coive  to   be  the  ca»(*)   by  the  1 

weaki'U  us  here*     As  to  the  floating    they  are  sent  to.     I  think  you 

bridge  you  have  raentionecl,  far  keep-   do  well  to  consult  the    fieldn] 

ing  open  the  communication  on  Har-    with  respect  to  the  captains,  A 

lera  Kiver,  I  entirely  appn»ve  of  the 

application  of  the   tire-nifts    for  that 

purpose,    provided    they  will    answer 

the  design   to  which    you  intend  to 

convert  them,     I  should  think  that  a 

general    or   garrison  court-martial  at 

your  i|uarters.  for  tlie  trial  of  otlVnders 

(in  vkisi^s  not  capital)^  would  be  useful    u[>on  a  good  choice  of  officers  to 

and      pro|ier»       The     cjuartennaater-    this  army  formidable  to  tlie 

general  inlorms  me  he  has  sent  up  a    and  serviceable  to  the  cause 

person  last  week  for  the  purpose  of    emleavoring    to  support,      M«] 

securing  the  sails  and   rigging  taken 

from    the    vesjiels    lately   sunk    near 

Mount  Washington. 

I  have  spoken  to  some  gentlemen 
on  the  subject  of  Har<leii burgh's 
death,  w!io  (I  make  no  doubt)  will 
convey  the  awount  to  his  brother. 

I  am,  sir,  your  most  obedient 

Gkukge  Washington. 


WASHINGTON'   TO    GEN.    REATn. 

Hari^KM  HicidiiTH.  Ulh  Oct.,  1776. 

Dkar  Sir,  —  Your  letter  of  yester- 
day is  before    rae»  with    the  list  en-    yourself   to    the   Mass;u^husett 
closed ;  but  this  is  doing  the  matter    offit-ers. 


have  endeavored  to  support  the 
aoter  of  officers^  and  who  ha? 
placed  tlieraselvei  upon  a  leva 
the  common  soldiery,  are  fit  to 
fe  rrod .  O fficers  o  f  t  h  e  1  att er  cla 
never  —  in  short,  they  canno 
duct  matters  with  propriety; 
need  not  point  out  the  qualiiii 
necessary  to  constitute  a  good  4 
your  own  obsen'ations  and  goo( 
ment  will  readily  point  out  wj 
and  who  are  not  lit  for  the  ni 
pointment     I  would  have  you 


by  halves  only,  and  the  delay  must 
inevitably  defeat  the  end  ;  as  it  is  im- 
possible from  the  nature  of  things 
lliat  the  different  governments  can 
withhold  the  nomination  of  officers 
mdi  longer*  I  therefore  entreat 
jm  to  debj  not  a  momenta  time  in 


Enclosed  you  have  some  listSi 
ed  in  to  me  by  Gen*  Green^  whi 
be  attended  to  with  tlie  rest^ 
closed  also  yoii  will  receive  th| 
ion  and  report  of  Col.  Knox  ai 
Putnam,  respecting  our  works 
fence,  which,  so  far  as  relates  t 


Unpublished  Writings  of  Washington. 


147 


i  AM  h^ve  Qo  objeetion 

yn  of  with  all  possible 

on   tlje  L*«liifid  we 

}  xpprofi^l  the  Benteuces  of 

taad  d^^To  you  will  order 
executed, 
bith  respect,  your  most  obe- 

^B  Gborgk  Washington, 

CrOTOX  TO  GEN.  HSATH. 
bsa».  Moiou  To«^«  lOih  lijiy,  tHT. 
&III,  —  I  have  Tour  favor  of 
kx-6ixth  and  thirtieth  last 
CoL  Conway  and  the  two 
■  who  accompanied  him  are 
rard  to  Congress,  who,  I 
ioubt,  will  provide  for  them 
hmr  fiottable  to  their  merits. 
pud  of  War  have  sent  orders 
btfn^otal  Agents,  at  Boston, 
^ '  I    Providence,    to   re- 

i        1     :.iry  stores,  anns^  &c,, 
,  from  those  piaffes, 
in  Connecticut  [5*c], 
k  are  to  be  subject  to  my 

iMiaiftzig  of  Gen.  Knox  what 
pf  the  artillery  lately  arrived 
ited  in  this  quarter,  he 
thirty-one  light  pieces 
tiou  and  two  pieces 
may  be  sent  forward 
hfield  in  Connecticut, 
who  conducts  them 
her  orders.  The  re- 
e  cannon  are  to  be 
ingfield  for  the  present. 
tkch  artificem,  who  came 
the  cannon,  are  to  go  to 
i,  wbtre  they  will  be  taken 

or- 

RuntMoed    yonr  want  of 

;  but  Mr,  Hancock 

■,  make  direct  appli- 

\ml  purpose  some  little 

dieit  ia  quite  exhaust- 


ed. I  cannot  see  the  necessity  of 
taking  twenty  men  into  pay^  purpose- 
ly to  guard  tlie  magazines  at  Spring- 
field.  There  will  ever  be  a  numher 
of  the  Continental  troops  under  the 
denomrnation  of  invalids  or  convales- 
cents, and  some  of  them  may  be 
drawn  together  for  that  purpose. 

I  liope  the  number  of  men  enlisted 
in  your*State  far  exceeds  the  returns 
you  make  to  me  in  your  last,  or  your 
quota  is  not  much  more  than  half 
completed ;  and  I  flatter  myself  that 
your  Ai*sembly  will  not  opjKxse  your 
Council,  in  the  mo<le  which  they  have 
thought  tit  to  adopt  for  filling  up  your 
battalions. 

By  some  gentlemen  of  character, 
who  are  just  come  frrtm  Boston,  I  am 
informed  that  the  officers  loiter  away 
their  times  in  a  most  scandalous  manner 
on  their  march  from  Boston  to  Peeks- 
kill.  They  tell  me  that  there  is  not 
a  little  town  upon  the  road,  but  you 
find  an  officer  and  ten  or  a  dojien 
men,  drinking  and  gaming  in  the  pub- 
lic houses,  instead  of  prosecuting  their 
march  to  the  place  of  destination.  I 
therefore  desire  that  you  will  imme- 
diately, upon  the  receipt  of  this,  des- 
patch an  active,  spirited  officer  in  [on] 
whom  you  can  depend^  with  orders 
to  sweep  every  town  between  Boston 
and  Peekskill  of  the  officers  and  sol- 
diers who  are  idling  away  their  times 
in  them.  And  in  future,  whenever 
an  officer  is  detached  with  a  party  of 
men,  he  should  have  a  r«>ute  given 
to  him,  allowing  a  reasonable  time  to 
reavh  the  post  to  which  he  is  com- 
manded; and  if  he  is  longer  upon  his 
march  than  the  time  allotted,  he 
ought  to  account  for  the  reasons  of 
his  delay. 

I  observe  that  CoL  Putnam*s  regi- 
ment is  one  of  those  ordered  to  Peeks- 
kill.  As  the  colonel  is  himself  exceed- 
ingly    useful     in     the     engineering 


Unpublished  Writingt  of  We 


\ 


branch,  and  bm  a  good  deal  of  thnt 
buiiiiK^Mi  yi*t  roiiiaift<  to  K«  doD#  in 
tim  forU  Jiud  pniuioii  in  the  inghlandi^ 
I  hifg  ho  amy  l*o  iwfnt  forward  as 
cjuick  ft*  po**4iU«%  loiiv  in|?  the  licnt,- 
€oloni»l  to  coiiijilytt»  and  bring  on  the 
regiraent.  1  duii*t  mcmn  by  thii»  tliat 
litf  id  to  bt*  tttkeji  from  thi«  rf*giui«*nt  to 
act  ^fmrat4ily  an  an  enginiEHjir,  but 
that  he  will  bo  kind  euotjgh  tn  siMtst 
Gens,  Mt:I>ougul  iind  (.'bntou  with  his 
advice,  an  he  hris  fiurv«»yitd  aod  ex- 
plored that  coon  try  lnnt  campaign. 

I  aui^  dear  eir,  your  most  obedient 
servant^ 

GkOROK  WASBIXGTOir* 

WA8MINOTOX   TO    OmS,   URATH, 

MoRRtii  TovK,  Jolt  27,  1T7T. 
Dear  Si  it,  —  I  have  ri^ceivpd  your 
favor   of   the   wixteerith    instant,  in- 
fonning   me  of    an   ttpplicHtion    from 
th«  lio;inJ  of  Wur  of  your  Stato,  for 
a  Muffii:i*>ncy  of  arms  and   other  n^ 
C45!ihario8  to  aceornmodutii  a   body  of 
man  to  bo  ei«|pl(^yf»d  in  a  8errt*t  expe- 
dition t/j  Sl  .Jnhn-i*  Eivor^  and  desir- 
ing my  inHtrucnions  on  tl»o  ot!caHion. 
A«  1  jiin  not  ac<pmiiito«i  by  Congreaa 
with  what  Bl*p.s  tht^y  have  taken  in 
tho  alfair,  nor  with   thoir  present  in- 
tt^htion»  con*-erninj,'  it,  I  th  not  think 
in yac'lf  uuthorizL*d  to  comply  with  the 
*''*<ltni*ition.     But     I     tthalf    imniedi^ 
^^^h  write  to  tlium  on  tho  subjeict, 
*>nd  re(pieflt  thtnn  to  give  you  dirttc- 
tiouB  what  to  do.     Till  you  rmu^ivu 
|»f»m,    you  aro    to   dt^fur   doing   any 
*  '"*g  in  it.    For  my  own  part,  I  thijik 
'J-   whoU  schemw  very  int'ligiblo  at 
J^^  tiiue.      It  a|ipear8  to  nie   alto- 
'  *>'*  hor  inexpeJiunt  to  emjiloy  snch  a 
^    mb«»j.  (j|r  jj^j^^^  |j^  j^  n>nioto  otffUHive 
j^^-ditiuti,  whun  wo  have  »o  urgent 
'  *^»uanti  for  all  tho  strength  wo  can 
**ct    to    an^jwer   the    purpoaesi    of 

^  ^  disagreeable  conaideratiou, 


that  nwt  men  «fe  m>  m$^  ^ 

*mt*  mt  ihmi 
their  &ernotsfc  are 
evil  i«  of  thc^  moA  inji 
geruuM   nattn^  and 
oui!  r  I 

hav.  lii 

left   Gen.   St    Cbir, 
happy  to  Hear  ymi 
your   jiower  to 
chtH*ki«g  the  |Kpartiinr  hf  % 
stances  of  exeiis|klasj  \ 
In  m  former  JbUeri 
thirteen tb«  whitk  hur 
ceiveil,  you   ai^  mj 
d<j  with  Mun^e^r  F« 
other  French  owners,  rti*  m 


^x 
^ 


oils  of  enteriBg  the 
teers^  and  in  oftlier 
would  have  you,  tnr 
oourage  all  such  fron 
camp,  wlio  do  not 
tho  faith  of  contracts  witb] 
in  France,  They  eml 
yond  measure,  which 
ca:*e  wen?  their  pret 
mo<lerate,  from  the  di 
ing  employment  to  so 
of  Htranger^;,  unacquaint 
genius,  huiguage,  and 
the  inconvenience  is  v^j 
created  by  the  immedi 
tions,  which  almost  eri 
them  I  have  seen  ent 
w4iich  make  it  impoasil 
them.  And  I  have  fouml^ 
ence,  that  liowever  modes 
fleem  at  tli^t  to  be,  by 
serve  as  volunteers,  thej 
extent!  their  views,  and 
portunate  for  oftices  the 
rigljt  to  look  for.  I  beli| 
recommend  is  agreeable 
tion  of  C!ongres9. 

I  am  glad  to  liear  of 
that  have  been  made  by 
and  privateers,  particula 


Unpublished  Writings  of  Washington. 


149 


ipect  to  the  "  Fox  "  frigate,  but  I  am 
surry  to  find  there  is  reason  to  sup- 
poM  she  has  been  retaken.  I  hope 
with  you  the  account  may  prove  false. 
The  British  fleet  sailed  out  of 
Sandy  Hook  the  twenty-third  in- 
stant The  prevailing,  and  perhaps 
the  most  probable  opinion  is,  that 
they  are  destined  for  Philadelphia. 
Bat  it  is  not  impossible  they  may  in- 
tend for  the  eastward.  Proper  atten- 
tion to  this  should  not  be  wanting. 
Bat  the  bare  possibility  of  it  must 
not  prevent  or  interfere  with  your 
forwarding  the  remaining  Continental 
troops  to  their  respective  regiments, 
vith  all  the  diligence  you  can.  The 
emergency  of  Northern  affairs  indis- 
pensably calls  for  them.  It  is  with 
lelactance  I  am  obliged  to  say  that 
bad  all  the  Eastern  States  taken 
effectual  measures  to  complete  and 
•end  on  exped[  ]  their  several 
quotas,  the  misfortune  at  Ticondc- 
loga  w[  ]  all  its  attendant  mis- 
chiefs, would  not  have  happe  [  ]. 
But  I  have  the  consolation  to  reflect, 
that  my  endeav  [  ]  have  been 
mremitted  to  induce  them  to  make 
tTe[  ]  exertion  in  their  power 
ibr  that  purpose.  I  am,  dear  sir, 
Your  most  obedient  8[ervant], 

Go.  Wa8Hixg[ton]. 
(Address:) 

On  public  service 
The  Honorable 

Major  Greneral  Heath 
Boston. 
Go.  Washington. 

WASHINGTON  TO   OKN.    HEATH. 

Head-qoaktkks,  near  Gerxahtown, 
10th  Aufr.,  17fV: 

Dear  Sib,  —  I  was  yesterday 
&Tored  with  yours  of  the  first  and 
Mcond  instants.  I  am  convinced  if 
my  ships  appeared  off  your  coast  at 
^  time  you  mention,  that  they 
•  •Mild  not  hmre  been  the  fleet   that 


sailed  from  the  Hook,  because  they^ 
were  off  the  Capes  of  Delaware  just 
at  that  time.  But  I  think  it  more 
than  probable  that  you  will  have 
heard  something  of  the  enemy  before 
tliis  reaches  you.  We  have  not  re- 
ceived the  least  intelligence  of  them, 
since  they  left  the  Capes  of  Dela- 
ware, last  Thursday  was  a  week. 
Had  they  returned  to  the  Hook,  they 
must  have  arrived  there  many  days 
ago,  as  the  winds  have  been  con- 
stantly fair.  The  season  of  the  year 
is  not  only  against  their  going  south- 
ward, but  there  is  no  object  there 
worth  their  attention  ;  and  it  would 
be  leaving  Gen.  Burgoyne  to  make 
head  against  the  whole  eastern  force 
and  the  Continental  army  up  the 
North  River.  My  opinion  therefore 
is,  that  they  intend  either  to  go 
round  the  east  end  of  Long  Island 
into  the  Sound  and  land  in  Connec- 
ticut, or  stand  more  eastward,  and  Jk 
make  a  descent  upon  Rhode  Island 
or  somewhere  in  Massachusetts,  from 
either  of  which  places  they  may  at- 
tempt to  penetrate  and  form  a  junc- 
tion with  Gen.  Burgoyne,  who  is 
pushing  down  the  North  River  with 
scarce  any  opposition. 

Be  the  place  of  Gen.  Howe's  desti- 
nation where  it  may,  it  will  be  im- 
possible for  the  army  to  be  up  time 
enough  to  prevent  his  making  good 
his  landing ;  but  I  think  it  will  be  a 
considerable  time  before  he  can  com- 
plete his  debarkation  and  get  all 
things  in  readiness  to  march  into  the 
country.  I  therefore  must  depend 
upon  the  most  spirited  exertions  of 
the  militia  to  give  him  every  opposi- 
tion, and  endeavor  to  retard  his  prog- 
ress until  the  Continental  army  can 
come  up.  That  I  may  reach  the 
North  River  quickly  (should  there  be 
occasion),  I  have  ordered  this  army,  ^ 
with  all  their  baggage,  &c.,to  i^Vmih  i 


150 


Unpuhlished   Writings  of  Washington. 


to  the  east  side  of  Delaware*     As  the 

garrison  of  Peckukill  have  not  [? 
bt^t*n]  uf>on  fatigue,  they  will  be  able 
to  march  forwar*!  rapiclly,  while  the 
troops  that  take  tlieir  places  refresh 
aud  Ti?&%  them^lves.  As  I  am  in- 
farmed  that  the  whole  country  be- 
tvveeii  the  coast  and  the  North  River 
is  rough  and  dofensiUe,  I  am  in 
bupea  that  we  shall  be  able  to  take 
sucli  a  position  as,  with  our  joint 
force,  will  prevent  a  junction  of  the 
two  armies  of  the  enemy,  should  they 
attempt  it. 

bhould  a  descent  l>e  made,  it  will 
be  necessary  to  remove  all  teams  and 
provisions  out  of  thoir  way  an  quick 
as  possible;  the  toums  espei.'inlly»  as  I 
am  convinced  Gen.  Howe  will  be  in 
great  want  of  draft  cattle,  as  his  own 
must  be  much  reduced  from  the 
length  of  time  wliich  they  have  been 
on  board.     I  am,  dear  sir, 

Your  most  obedient  servant, 

Go,  Wasuingtox, 

P.S.  11th  Aug.  An  express  over- 
took me  last  night  with  an  account 
tliat  the  fleet  was  seen  the  seventh  in- 
stant oflf  Sinepnxent,  sixteen  leagues 
to  the  southward  of  the  Capes  of 
Delaware.  I  have  therefore  halted 
till  1  have  further  intelligence. 

WASMDfGTaN    TO    GEN.    HEATH. 

!lKAl>-qUARTr.RN,  WiriTEMAKJIH,  JV  Nov.,  1T77. 

Drak  Sih, — ^I  am  fawjred  with 
yours  of  the  *J2d  and  25th  of  0«;tober. 
As  you  have  wnjte  to  Congress  re- 
specting the  difficulty  of  supplying 
the  prisoners  of  Gen.  Burgoyn^'s 
army  with  quarters,  fuel,  and  pro- 
visions, I  imagine  they  will  give 
proper  directions  in  the  matter.  I  do 
not  think  it  to  our  interest  to  expedite 
the  passage  of  tiie  prisoners  to  Eng- 
land, for  you  may  depend  upon  it 
that  they  will,  inimedirttcly  on  their 
am?al  there^  throw  them  into  dif ez^ 


ent  garrisons,  and  bring  out  an 
number.    Now,  if  they  sail  io  Doci 
ber,  they  may  arrive  time  eoougb 
take  the  places  of  otliers  who  ma; 
out  in  May,  which  is  as  earlj 
campaign  can  be  well  entered 
I  look  upon   it,  that  tli* 
difficulty  will  arise  from  . 
provisions  for  the  voyage  ;  iind 
fore,  although  I  would  supply 
with  every  article   agreeable  to 
stipulations,  I  would  not  furuidh 
ounce  for  sea  store,  nor  suifer  it  ta 
purchased  in  the  country. 

The  account  you  give  of  the  a] 
priation  of  the  arms  which  had 
drawn  for  Henly*s,  Lee*s,  aud  Ji 
son's  regiments  is  perfectly  sat 
tory. 

What  you  say  respecting  the 
abled  soldiers   to   the   north wj 
agreeable  to  my  idea  of  the 
and    I    would    therefore    have 
embody   them   at   convenient  pi 
for  the  present ;  and  where  they 
fit  for  small  services,  lot  them 
tlie   guards  at  the  elabtn 
places  where  stores  are  u 
dare  say  we  shall  liave  subjecta  I'uou 
to  establish    a  corps   of  inTainis  il 
the   eastern,  aa  well   aa   the   mitLAi 
colonies. 

The  present  state  of  the  Commii 
sary^s  Department  gives  me  great  un 
easiness ;  and  I  fear  that  by  the  t& 
moval  of  the  old  officers  during  tbi 
active  part  of  the  campaign,  the  aru^ 
will  suffer.  I  am,  however,  ohli*:;*^! 
to  you  for  the  information  rt' 
the  inattention  that  has  hithcuj  -^  - 
paid  to  the  putting  up  meat  to  0^ 
eastward*  which  is  the  cou 
depend  upon  for  beef,  and  s\ 
our  salt  is  de])o:^ited.  I  shall  imvw 
diately  write  to  the  new  commi^ftaiy 
general  of  purchases,  aud  know  wfcj 
tliis  n<  ^'        '       ■  1, 

The  1     jtie  Islaml 


Unpublished  Writings  of  Washington. 


^ 


151 


as  atadi  a  leoret  to  me  aa  it  U 

'         "T  was  con^ultiHl  upon 

L  know  from  whence  or 

Dit  origiiiati:<L    Yon  must  there- 

*^'"  tA  Congress  for  directions  in 

:ho  p^yoieDt  of  the  troopn 

.'♦>r  I  caiHiot  gire  the  least 

iiYf  it, 

mif  doar  w,  your  most  obedient 

at, 

Go-  Washingtox. 

4SItIXGTO!C    TO    GEN*    HEATH. 
^JkxrwMM^  WuTK  Pt.4ilif»,  S«pt.  1&,  1778. 

ui  SiJi,  —  I  have  just  received 
»  fipocD  th<t  Board  of  War,  that 
givedi  directions  to  Mr. 
to  send  forward  to  Spring- 
Hut^rd  all  the  readj-niacie 
10  hlA  possession,  there  to  he 
t^pparked,  previous  to  their 
eaiiip,  except  a  few  partic- 
wbich  are  ordered  imme- 
;  and  to  deliver  Me^rs.  Otis 
all  the  cloths,  wo*)lleu8, 
other  good^,  to  be  made 
sa  expeditiously  as  possi- 
forlbtir  supply. 

j^  tbe  array,  and 

hod  of  the 

lent  too  common  iu 

ttaosporting  clothing 

wltich    great  delay  and 

incurred,  indaee  me  to 

kular  atteutiou   and 

ter.    The  impor- 

ed  season  of  los- 

t  and  sparing  no  pains  to 

^jdgencies  of  the  soldiery, 

ma  article,  in  too  obvi- 

persnuded,  too  inter* 

^mn  feelings,  to  need 

by  a  single  argument* 

you  to  cull  u[K>n  Mr. 

what  means  he  is 

r  the  views  of  the 

y  do  not  appear 


know 


to  you  perfectly  adetjuate,  to  concert 
with  him  any  additionai  rnea-sures  you 
may  think  advisable.  The  necessity 
is  urgent,  and  the  exertion  should  be 
prop^irrioned. 

I  have  written  to  Gen,  Greene, 
directing  him  to  instruct  bis  assist* 
anti*  in  Boston,  that  they  may  strain 
©very  nerve  to  give  the  most  effectual 
aid.  There  is  a  number  of  return- 
wagons,  both  in  the  Commissary's 
and  Quartermasters  line,  which  may 
be  made  use  of  on  the  occasion,  and 
be  a  saving  of  expense  to  the  public. 
But  though  this  resource  should  be 
well  improved,  in  a  bu5inei*s  of  such 
moment  it  ought  not  wholly  to  be  re- 
lied on.  It  is  my  anxious  wish  the 
clothing  may  come  on  with  the  great- 
est despatch,  and  as  much  together  aa 
circumstances  will  ^lermit;  and  for 
this  purpose  every  expedient  ought  to 
be  used  to  provide  a  su  flic  lent  num- 
ber of  wagons ;  hiring  them  if  to  be 
had,  or  if  not,  calling  in  the  aid  of 
the  civil  authority  to  impress  or  other- 
wise procure  them  in  the  most  cer- 
tain and  expeditious  mode. 

It  hath  been  too  much  a  practice 
hitherto,  to  send  on  the  clothing  in 
small  parcels,  without  a  guard  or  con- 
ductor to  take  care  of  them.  The  con- 
sequenfces  have  been,  in  every  case 
loss  of  time,  in  many  cases  the  loss  of 
the  clothing  itself,  which,  being  scat- 
tereil  about  at  ditfereat  places  on  the 
road,  lias  often  been  converted  to  pri- 
vate use.  To  obviate  this,  I  request 
your  care  to  liave  trusty  persons  ap- 
l>ointed  to  conduct  the  clothing  to  the 
respective  depositaries,  funushed  with 
proper  guards,  to  facilitate  which  it 
will  be  necessary  to  send  it  on  in 
large  parcels. 

I  should  also  be  glad  you  would 
call  upon  Messra.  Otis  &  Andrews, 
and  know  what  measures  they  are 
taking  for  making  up  the  articles  in^ 


152 


Honeymickle  Breath 


trustee!   to   their  care,   and  to  give  Board  of  War,  but  to  pimxkotol 

tbetn  all  the  advice  and  assistance  in  accelerate  their  exet^utian. 

yonr  power.     In  every  step  yoa  take,  With    great  esteem  and  Tvpxi 

however,  you  are  to  be  cautious  not  am,  sir,  your  most  obodient  aervw 

to  contravene  the   directions   of  the  Go.   WJUHiKai 

The  noce^flArj  liiDitatiDns  on  onr  space  compel  us  to  rdraiti  from  nuking  iATther  m 
from  tiit^^  ciiriou»  callecdona^  It  is  to  bo  hopoti,  that,  uader  the  iiti«piec«  of  one  orcrthi 
the  iE«torieAr  8octct)e«  of  the  country,  both  of  them  may  be  prititcil  tn  full,  and  car 
edited.  Nuthinjjp  hut  the  full  doctuiu*iit  is  sutfident  to  #bow  the  ch»rftctcr  and  method  < 
man,  Wc  htrHifve  nu  ouc  will  *tudj  tlie  «iri?  despatches^  —  tho*c  of  miihllo  tt<»c,  —  tnd 
btters  orhi:i  advimctHl  life,  of  which  Mr.  HaoQtth  gived  some  Acooant  in  anotlicr  attidl 
fail  to  acknuwk'dgt}  thaU  it  is  the  Bjime  Washington  who  appears  ia  all  of  tliea,  tail 
whatever  the  mechanical  coustractioii  of  Ihe  despatch,  his  U  the  dirvcting  mitiil  hi  tho*e 
Bcvolaiion,  as  well  a^iu  tboise  of  Braddock's  campaig^n,  or  of  Mount  Vemon, 


HONEYSUCKLE-BREATH, 

Dobs  it  come  the  0rst  time  with  the  warm  gold  moonj 
Or  in  dreams  on  a  drowsy  afternoon. 
When  May  is  melting  away  into  June, 

And  t?ie  blossom-trees  have  done  snowing  ? 


'Tis  the  spirit  of  summer  on  fiying  feet^ 
^Tis  a  nameless  something  namelessly  sweet, 
A  voiceless  music  the  birds  repeat 

As  they  soar  and  sing  without  knowing. 

*Tis  a  vision  that  vanished  and  left  no  trace  ; 
'Tis  a  kiss  without  lips,  a  shadowy  face 
That  Fancy  caught  smiling,  an  empty  space 

Where  we  stretch  fond  arms  out  for  clasping. 

And  I  know  it  is  mine  by  the  love  alone ; 
'Tis  a  promise,  —  no  more,  —  yet  'tis  my  own  ; 
Fair  bt'yoiul  sight,  but  I  make  no  moan. 

Can  Life's  gifts  he  sweet  as  youth's  asking  ? 

In  the  glimmering  night,  'neath  the  starlight  sheea, 
With  a  flutter  of  fairy  wings  I  ween, 
It  liovera  the  stars  and  the  dark  Iwitweeo, 
Till  it  findeth  my  window  lonely. 

Creeping  in  through  the  gloom  with  the  silent  dew, 
It  brings  the  old  joy  thiit  is  always  new: 
Mine,  mine,  by  that  token  !  aud  yet  to  you 
Maybe  'twas  a  perfume  only. 


The  Vicar's  Daughter. 


153 


THE    VICAR'S    DAUGHTER; 

AN  AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL  STORY. 

BY   GEORGE   MACDONALD. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 


A  PICTURE. 


Thixgs  went  on  very  quietly  for 
time.     Of  course  I  was  fully 
ipiedy  as  well  I  might  be,  with  a 
to  tend  and  cultivate  which  must 
>ni    at    length   into  the  human 
ers    of    love   and  obedience   and 
ith.      The  sraalleat  service  I  did  the 
iderfol   thing  that  lay  in  my  lap 
med  a  something  in  itself  so  well 
'Ith  doing,  that  it  was  worth  living 
do   it.     As  I  gazed  on  the  new 
tiou,    so   far  beyond   my  under- 
ding,  yet  so  dependent  upon  me 
ile   aijserting  an  absolute  and  di- 
le  right  to  all  I  did  for  her,  I  mar-. 
led    that   God  should   intrust   me 
ith  such   a  charge,  that  he  did  not 
the  lovely  creature  in  his  own 
and   refuse  her  to  any  others. 
len  I  would  bethink  myself  that  in 
ng  her  into  mine,  he  had  not  sent 
oat  of  his  own ;  for  I,  too,  was  a 
in  his  arms,  holding  and  tend- 
my  live  doll,  until  it  should  grow 
thing  like  me,  only  ever  so  much 
:er.     Was   she   not   given   to  mo 
t    she    might  learn   what   I   ha<l 
n  to  learn,  namely,  that  a  will- 
childhood  was  the  flower  of  life  ? 
can   any  mother  sit  with   her 
bild  on  her  lap  and  not  know  that 
is  a  God  over  all,  -^  know  it  by 
rising  of  her  own  heart  in  prayer 
him  ?     But  so  few  have  had  par- 
like mine!    If  my  mother  felt 
IS  when  I  lay  in  her  arms,  it  was 
wonder  I  should  feel  thus  when 
f  child  lay  in  mine. 
Before  I  had  children  of  my  own^ 


I  did  not  care  about  children,  and 
therefore  did  not  undt^rstand  them ; 
but  I  had  rea<l  somewliore,  —  and  it 
clung  to  me  although  I  did  not  under- 
stand it,  —  that  it  was  in  laying  hold 
of  the  heart  of  his  mother  that  Jesus 
laid  his  first  hold  on  the  world  to  re- 
deem it ;  and  now  at  length  I  began 
to  understand  it.  What  a  divine  way 
of  saving  us  it  was,  —  to  let  her  bear 
him,  carry  him  in  her  bosom,  wash 
him  and  dress  him  and  nurse  him 
and  sing  him  to  sleep,  —  offer  him 
the  adoration  of  mother's  love,  mis- 
understand him,  chide  him,  forgive 
him  even  for  fancied  wrong  !  Such  a 
love  might  well  save  a  world  in  which 
were  mothers  enough.  It  was  as  if 
he  had  said,  "  Ye  shall  no  more  offer 
vain  sacrifices  to  one  who  needs  them 
not,  and  cannot  use  them.  I  will 
need  them,  so  require  them  at  your 
hands.  I  will  hunger  and  thirst  and 
be  naked  and  cold,  and  ye  shall  min- 
ister to  me.  Sacrifice  shall  be  no 
more  a  symbol,  but  a  real  giving  unto 
God ;  and  when  I  return  to  the 
Father,  inasmuch  as  ye  do  it  to  one 
of  the  least  of  these,  ye  do  it  unto 
me."  So  all  the  world  is  henceforth 
the  temple  of  God;  its  worship  is 
ministration ;  the  commonest  service 
is  divine  service. 

I  feared  at  first  that  the  new 
strange  love  I  felt  in  my  heart  came 
only  of  the  fact  that  the  child  was 
Percivale's  and  mine ;  but  I  soon 
found  it  had  a  far  deeper  source,  — 
that  it  sprung  from  the  very  humani- 
ty of  the  infant  woman,  yea,  from 
her  relation  in  virtue  of  that  human- 
ity to  the  Father  of  all.    Th^  fc\ui- 


1S4 


The  Vicar' ^  Daughter. 


tain  appeared  in  my  heart :  it  aroea 
from  an  infinite  store  in  the  unseen. 

Soon,  however,  came  jealousy  of 
my  love  for  my  baby,  I  feared  lest 
it  j^hould  make  me  —  nay,  wati  mak- 
ing me  —  neglect  my  huabantl.  The 
fear  first  arose  in  me  one  morning  as 
I  Bat  with  her  half  dressed  on  ray 
knees.  I  was  dawdling  over  her  in 
my  fondness,  as  I  Ui*ed  to  dawdle  over 
the  dressing  of  my  doll,  when  sud* 
denly  I  became  aware  that  never 
once  since  her  arrival  had  I  sat  with 
my  husband  in  hi^j  study,  A  i>ang 
of  dismay  shot  through  me.  "la 
this  to  be  a  wife  ?  "  I  said  to  myself; 

—  **  To  play  with  a  live  love  like  a 
dea^l  doll,  vnid  forget  her  huiiband !  '* 
I  caught  up  a  blanket  from  the  cnwlle, 

—  I  aril  not  going  to  throw  away  that 
good  old  woni  for  the  ugly  outlandish 
name  tliey  give  it  now^  reminding 
one  only  of  a  helmet,  —  I  caught  up 
a  blanket  from  the  craille,  I  say, 
wrapped  it  round  the  treasure,  which 
was  Bhootiug  its  arms  and  legs  in 
every  directimi  like  a  polypu*!  feeling 
after  its  food*  —  and  rushed  down 
stair^j  and  down  tlse  precipice  into 
the  study,  Percivale  started  up  iu 
terror,  th inking  something  fearful 
had  happened,  flzid  I  wiia  bringing 
hiin  all  that  wa.is  left  of  the  child. 

**  What  —  what  —  what's  the  mat- 
ter?'' he  gasped- 

1  could  not  while  he  was  thus 
frightened  ex[)lain  to  him  what  had 
driven  me  to  him  in  such  alarming 
haste, 

**  I've  brouglit  you  the  baby  to 
kiss,'*  I  said,  unfolding  the  blanket, 
'and  lioldiiig  up  tlie  sprawling  little 
go<bless  towards  the  face  that  towered 
above  me. 

"Was  it  dying  for  a  kiss  then?" 
be  said,  taking  her,  blanket  ainl  all, 
fiH>m  my  arms. 

The    end    of   the    blanket    swept 


across  his  easeh  and  s: 
of  the  baby  in  a  pictu: 
Kuifjs^  at  which  he  Wi 

"0  PercivaleP'    I    CTfCi 
smeared  your  babj  I  " 

''But  this  is  a  real  li%-« 
may  smear  any  thing  *sl 

**  Except  her  own  fs 
please,  then,  Pereivale 

**  Or  her  blessed  f 
vale,      "  She  hasn't  g< 
Why  haan*t  the  little 
featliers  on  yet  ?  " 

*'  I  wad  in  such  » 
her.*' 

"To  be  kissed?'* 

"  No,  not  exactly, 
was  in  a  hurry  to  bring  i 
self.''  ~ 

'"Ah!  you  wanted  t 
you?" 

**No,   sir.      I   didn' 
kissed  ;  hut  I  did  so  want 
Fercivale,'* 

"'  Isn't  it  all  the  sami 
ling?"  he  said.  "It 
me.'* 

"  Sometimes,  Perci 
very  stupid  I     It's  not  the 
There's  a  world  of  diflfc 
the  two ;  and  you  ongl 
or  be  told  it,  if  you  do 

**  I  shall  think  it  0V( 
you  leave  mt?/*  he  s;Aid. 

"  But  Tm  not  going 
for  a  long  time.     I  ha^ 
paint    for  weeks   and 
since    this    little    trouldi 
came  poking  in  bet  wee 

"  liut  she's  not  dre 

"  Tliat  doesn  t  signi 
wrapped  up,  and  f|uite 

He  put  me  a  cluiir  wheel 
see  his  picture  without  ca^ 
shine  of  the  puint,     I  took 
from  him  J  luid  he  went  oti 
work, 

**  You  don't  think  I 


The  Viear'i  Daughter. 


155 


prmlegea  to  this  lit- 

yoo?''  I  saitL 
Id  b«  mtUer  hard  for  tne, 
bi^otiied. 

d  think  I  waa  neglecting 
P«drale  ? "" 
r  a  momeuL** 

did&*t  miss  me  ?  '^ 

dkla^t  grttmhle  ?  " 

istefb  you  ?  "  I  asked,  af- 
u     *'Caii  70a  paint 
when  I  am  here  as  wbea 

I   feel  warmer   to  my 


tiafiad,  and  held  my  peace. 
beit  pl«aaed  I  doo^t  want 
tot  Pcrcirale,  p*rhafi9  not 
Lod  til  id  oat  yet,  l*K>ked 
my  Diee ;  and^  as  at  the 
gr  eye»  ware  Exed  on  his 
Mraicht  be  wanted  to  find 
I  liked  the  design. 

!  - '  1  cried,  **  I  could 
where  the  Magi  were.'* 
!a  for  the  scene  of  his 
E»ld  f^rm  kitchen,  or  yeo* 
brown  rafters, 
i\A  red  brick 
of  bright  wafer 
iode ;  and  the  mother  was 
rer  b^r  h»by,  which,  nn- 
tbe  b*th,  she  was  holriiug 
adiYiinUion  of  the  Magi, 
y  behind  the  mother  stood, 
of  n  shepherd,  my  father, 
ths  Ofdlnazy  shepherd*s 
niotliert  like  a  peasant- 
ber  &anday*liest«  with  a 
kcndiief  crticts«.^d  upon  her 
bcfliile  him,  and  both 
with  a  cba»ren«Hl  yet 
the  lovely  child. 
biiyj«  and  a  girl^ — 
of  tire  and  nine, 
peculiar  won- 


dering delight  on  the  baby.  The 
youngest  boy,  with  a  great  spotted 
wooden  horst^  in  his  hand,  was  ap- 
proacliing  to  embrace  the  infant  in 
such  fasliion  as  made  the  toy  look 
dangerous,  ami  the  left  hand  of  the 
mother  was  lifted  with  a  motion  of 
warning  and  defence.  The  little  girl, 
the  next  yonngest,  had^  in  herabsorp* 
tion,  droppeil  her  gaadily  drenscd  doll 
at  her  feet,  and  stood  sucking  her 
thumb,  her  big  blue  eyes  wide  with 
contemplation.  The  eldest  boy  hud 
brought  his  white  rabbit  to  give  the 
baby,  but  hjwl  forgotten  all  about  it, 
ao  full  was  his  heart  of  his  new 
brotlier.  An  expression  of  mingled 
love  and  wonder  and  perpjexity  bad 
already  begun  to  dawn  upon  the  face, 
but  it  was  OS  yet  ftir  from  finished. 
He  stoixl  behind  the  other  two  peep- 
ing over  their  heads. 

*♦  Were  you  thinking  of  that  Titian 
in  the  Louvre,  with  the  white  rabbit 
in  it  ?  ''  I  asked  Percivale. 

'♦  I  did  not  think  of  it  until  after  I 
liad  put  in  the  rabbit,"  he  replied. 
**  And  it  shall  remain  ;  for  it  suits  my 
purpose,  and  Titian  would  not  claim 
all  the  white  rabbits  because  of  that 
one.'' 

**  Did  you  think  of  the  black  lamb 
in  it,  then,  when  you  laid  that  black 
pu&sy  on  the  hearth  ?  "  I  asked. 

**  Black  lamb  ?  "  he  returned. 

**  Yes,*'  I  insisted  ;  **  a  bla^k  lamb| 
in  the  dark  background^  »uch  a 
very  black  lamb,  and  in  such  a  dark 
background,  that  it  seems  you  never 
discovered  it." 

**  Are  you  sure  ?  "  he  persisted* 

^^  Absolutely  certain/*  I  replied. 
**  I  pointed  it  out  to  papa  in  the  pic- 
ture itself  in  the  LoiKre ;  he  had  not 
observed  it  before  either." 

"  I  am  very  glad  to  ^jiow  there  is 
such  a  thing  thtTc.  I  jpeed  not  an- 
swer your  question,   yau  see.     It   is 


156 


77ie  Vicar  ^8  Daughter. 


odd  enough  I  should  Imve  put  in  the 
black  puss.  Upon  some  grounds  I 
might  argue  that  my  puss  is  bettor 
than  Titian's  lamb." 

"  Whiit  grouiub  ?  tell  me" 

**  If  the  painter  wanted  a  contraat, 
a  larab,  be  he  as  black  as  ever  paint 
couhl  make  him,  must  still  be  a  more 
Christian  animal  thtm  a  cat  as  white 
as  snow.  Under  what  pretence  could 
a  cat  be  used  for  a  Christian  8}nn- 
bol?'* 

'*  What  do  you  make  of  her  play- 
fulness ?  *' 

**  I  sliould  count  that  a  virtue,  wer« 
it  not  for  the  fatal  objection  that  it  is 
always  exercised  at  the  expense  of 
other  creatures.-* 

*<  A  bill  I  of  string,  or  a  reel,  or  a 
bit  of  pajier,  is  enough  for  an  uncoi^ 
rupted  kitten/' 

**  ISut  you  must  not  forget  that  it 
serves  only  in  virtue  of  the  creature's 
imagination  representing  it  as  alive. 
If  you  iio  not  make  it  move,  she  will 
herself  set  it  in  motion  as  the  initia^ 
tive  of  the  game.  If  she  cannot  do 
thatj  she  will  take  no  notice  of  it," 

**  YeSj  I  see,     I  give  in." 

All  this  time  he  hatl  heen  painting 
diligently.  He  could  now  combine 
talking  and  painting  far  better  than 
he  used.  But  a  knock  came  to  the 
study  door;  and,  remembering  baby^s 
unpresentable  condition,  I  huddled 
her  up,  climbed  the  stair  again,  and 
finished  the  hedging  of  my  little 
angel  in  a  ver}^  happy  frame  of  mind. 

CHAPTER  XV. 
SUMORS. 

Hardly  was  it  completed,  when 
Cousin  Judy  called,  and  I  went  down 
to  see  her,  carrying  my  baby  with 
me.  As  I  weut^  something  put  me  iu 
mind  that  I  must  ask  her  for  Miss 
Claim's  address.     Lest  I  should  again 


forget,  as  soon  as  die  ' 
admired  the  baby,  I  \ 

*'  Have  you  found 
Miss  Clare  Uvea,  Judy  1 

•-*  I   don^t  choose  to 
answered.      "  I   am    sor 
have  hail  to  give  her 
appointment,  1  confes 

"  What  do  you   tneani 
**  I  thought  you  c^>u3ider 
good  teacher,"  I 

^*  I  have  no  fault  to  fiij 
on  that  score.  She  was  al^ 
tual,  and  I  must  allow  l^ 
well  and  taught  the  chii 
fully.  But  I  have  he 
tionable  things  about 
strange  things  indeed  I 

"  What  are  they  ?  ""  \ 

*^  1  can  t  say  Pve 
on    more    than    one    tbiq 
against  her  character,  but  \ 

"  Against  her  characfc 
claimed. 

**  Yes,  indeed.     She 
self  in  lodgings,  and  tho  " 
at  all  a  respectable  one 

"  But  have  you 
inquiry  ?  " 

''  I  consider  that  qt] 
had  already  met  more  thfl 
son,  however,  who  seemed ) 
very  odd  that  I  should 
teach  music  in  ray  family.^ 

**  Did   they   give   aiy 
thinking  her  unfit  ? ' 

**  I   did   not   choose  ' 
One   was    Miss  Clarke — ' 
her.     She  smiled  in  her  m 
cilious  manner,  but  in 
lieve  it  was  only 
looks  so  dowdy, 
any  thing  about  her  exc 
just  told  you.' 

**  jV  -id  who  told  yotj 

"  ^Irs.  Jettivson." 

**  But  yon  one©  to| 
was  a  great  gossip.*' 


kracta 


lit    ii^r  111 

ut  in  ^n 

beciM^B 

Butvn 


The  Vicar's  Daughter. 


157 


I  she  wouldn't  have  heard  it 
t  doesn^t  make  it  untrae.  In 
i  oonFinced  me  of  its  troth, 
mows  the  place  she  lives  in, 
ired  me  it  was  at  great  risk 
tion  to  the  children  that  I 
her  to  enter  the  hoase ;  and 
torse,  I  felt  compelled  to  let 
w  that  I  didn't  reqoire  her 
any  longer." 

re    most  he    some    mistake, 
^  I  said. 
DO !  not  the  least,  I  am  sorry 

r  did  she  take  it  ?  " 
f  sweetly  indeed.  She  didn't 
i  me  why,  which  was  just  as 
iing  I  should  have  found  it 
I  to  tell  her.  But  I  suppose 
IT  too  many  grounds  herself 
he  qaestion." 

dreadfully  sorry,  but  I  could 
nach  more  then.  I  ventured 
express  my  conviction  that 
old  not  be  any  charge  to 
^inst  Miss  Clare  herself ;  for 
who  looked  and  spoke  as  she 
1  have  nothing  to  be  ashamed 
y,  however,  insisted  that  what 
beard  was  reason  enough  for 
^nding  the  engagement ;  in- 
it  no  one  was  fit  for  such  a 

of  whom  such  things  could 
whether  they  were  true  or  not. 

she  left  me,  I  gave  baby  to 
e,  and  went  straight  to  the 
seping  in  to  see  if  Percivale 
e. 
aght  sight  df  me,  and  called 

come  down, 
only  Boger,"  he  said. 

always  pleased  to  see  Boger. 

a  strange  creature,  —  one  of 
fted  men  who  are  capable  of 
igg  if  not  of  every  thing,  and 
f  aothing  within  sight  of  pro- 
iftwliiftledlike  a  starling, 
ltd  Mb  whistling   on 


the  piano;  but  never  played.  He 
could  copy  a  drawing  to  a  hair*s- 
breadth,  but  never  drew.  He  could 
engrave  well  on  wood ;  but  although 
he  had  often  been  employed  in  that 
way,  he  had  always  got  tired  of  it 
after  a  few  weeks.  He  was  forever 
wanting  to  do  something  other  than 
what  he  was  at ;  and  the  moment  he 
got  tired  of  a  thing,  he  would  work 
at  it  no  longer;  for  he  had  never 
learned  to  make  himself.  He  would 
come  every  day  to  the  study  for  a 
week  to  paint  in  backgrounds,  or 
make  a  duplicate ;  and  then,  perhaps, 
we  wouldn't  see  him  for  a  fortnight. 
At  other  times  he  would  work,  say 
for  a  month,  modelling,  or  carving 
marble,  for  a  sculptor  friend,  from 
whom  he  might  have  had  constant 
employment  if  he  had  pleased.  He 
had  given  lessons  in  various  branches, 
for  he  was  an  excellent  scholar,  and 
had  the  finest  ear  for  verse,  as  well  as 
the  keenest  appreciation  of  the  love- 
liness of  poetry,  that  I  have  ever 
known.  He  had  stuck  to  this  longer 
than  to  any  thing  else,  strange  to 
say ;  for  one  would  have  thought  it 
the  least  attractive  of  employments 
to  one  of  his  volatile  disposition. 
For  some  time,  indeed,  he  had  sup- 
ported himself  comfortably  in  this 
way  ;  for  through  friends  of  his  fami- 
ly he  had  had  good  iiitroihictions, 
and,  although  he  wasted  a  good  deal 
of  money  in  buying  nick-nacks  that 
promised  to  be  useful  and  seldom 
were,  he  had  no  objectionable  habits 
except  inordinate  smoking.  But  it 
happened  that  a  pupil  —  a  girl  of 
imaginative  disposition,  I  presume  — 
fell  so  much  in  love  with  him  that 
she  betrayed  her  feelings  to  her 
countess-mother,  and  the  lessons  were 
of  course  put  an  end  to.  I  suspect 
he  did  not  escape  heart-whole  him- 
self; for  he  immediately  dropped  all 


158 


The  Vlcar^s  Danghter. 


his  other  lo<iont,  and  took  to  wntiog 
j>oetry  for  a  new  magazine ^  which 
pr»jvt*<l  uf  efihemeral  coii^titutioM,  and 
vtini^fihed  after  a  few  months  of  hectic 
existence* 

It  was  remarkable  that  with  such 
instability  his  moml  nature  should 
cmitinuo  unoorru|rted ;  but  this  I  be- 
\\v\i^  ho  owed  chiefly  to  his  love  and 
ad  mi  ration  of  his  brother.  For  my 
part^  I  could  not  help  liking  him 
much.  Therw  was  a  haU-pltdntive 
playfulness  about  him,  alternated 
with  gloom,  and  occasional iy  with 
wild  merriment,  which  made  him  in- 
teresting even  when  one  Mt  most 
mclinod  to  quarrel  with  him.  The 
wornt  of  him  was  that  he  considered 
himself  a  generally  misundewtood,  if 
not  ill-used  man,  who  could  not  only 
distinguii^h  himself,  but  render  Taluft- 
ble  service  to  society,  if  only  society 
would  do  him  the  jnRtice  to  gi\^e  him 
a  chance.  Were  it  only,  however,  for 
his  love  to  my  baby,  I  could  not  but  bo 
ready  to  tako  up  his  defence.  When 
I  mentioned  what  I  had  just  heard 
about  Miss  Clare,  Penivale  looked 
both  astonished  and  troubled;  but  be- 
fore he  could  speak,  Roger,  with  the 
air  of  a  man  of  the  world  whom  expe- 
rience enabled  to  come  at  once  to  a 
decision,  said, — 

**  Di'jjchd  upon  it^  Wynnie,  there  is 
faUt'ljood  tliere  somewhere.  You  will 
always  be  nearer  the  truth  if  you  be- 
lievo  nothing,  than  if  you  believe  the 
half  of  wliat  you  hear/' 

"That's  very  much  what  papa 
says/-  I  answered.  **  He  aflSrms  that 
he  never  searched  into  an  injurious 
report  in  his  own  parisli  without  find- 
ing it  so  nearly  false  as  to  deprive  it 
of  all  right  to  go  about,  " 

"  Besides,*'  said  Roger,  "  look  at 
that  face  !  How  1  should  like  to  model 
it.  She's  a  good  woman  that,  depend 
upon  it,^* 


4 


I  wa0  delight^kd 
giasm. 

*^  I  wish  you  would  ask  % 
as  soon  as  you  can,'*  said  1 
who  always  tended  to  eii 
conclusions  in  acts  rathefi 
wor«la-  "  Vour  cousin  Judj 
good  creature,  but  from  yogj 
description  of  her  as  a  girl  J 
have  grown  a  good  deal  j 
since  her  marriage. 
an  awful  snare." 

**  Yes,"  said  Eoger ; 
be  very  thankful  to  be  a 
and  have  nothing  expected  d 
respectability  is  a  mo^t  froi] 
er  of  stupidity  and  i        '  *    . 

I  could  not  help  ' 
might,  however,   have  a   Vi\ 
and  be  none  the  worse. 

"I  should  be  very 
you  desire,  husband," 
how  can  I  ?  I  haven^t  lear< 
she  lives.  It  was  asking  Jm 
address  once  more  that  broi| 
out.  I  certainly  didn't  iaj 
might  have  done,  notwin 
what  she  told  me  ;  but,  if  i 
remember  it  before,  you  maj 
she  could  not  have  ^ — 
then." 

*•  It's  very  odd."  said ! 
ing  his  long  mustache,  1 
mcnt  of  the  kind  ho  wore, 
odd,''  he   repeated  thou 
tlien  paused  again. 

**  Wliat's  so  very 
asked  Percivale. 

**  The  other  evening,' 
Roger,  after  yet  a  short  pad 
peoiug  to  be  in  Tottenha 
Eoad,  I  walked  for  some 
behind  a  young  woman  o) 
browTi  beer*jug  in  her  haa 
sometimes  amuse  myself  in  ,i 
by  walking  persistently  1 
one,  devising  the  unseen 
mind,  until  the  rec 


m  maj 

,ti9 

ore.    1 
oogha 


I 

^^wniig  auiaes  the  person 

^^|hI  OMp  and  give  me  the 

^HV  oofppmtig  tlie  two  — 

one  I  hmil  devined  and  the 

Wli<»ii  thft  young  woman 

titnied   her  hc^a*!  it   was 

laiiNikliftiAtit  titat  kept  me 

tog  her  iu  ^tUa  Clatx** 

Itaweror,  gave  me  time 

abitui^  it  would  liave  been. 

jW    tuni«<l  down  a  yiird 

leftred.'" 

tvU   IDJ   ooQflin  Judy/'  I 
Mr  wufUd  believe  it  was  Mka 

kii't  much  danger/'  he  re- 
'**Even  if  I  knew  your 
RiiouM  not  be  Ukelj  to  men- 
a  ineidect  in  her  hearing/^ 
it  hav«  been  she?"  said 
tbooglitfully. 
!^  satil  Roger.  "Mibs, 
lji.!r    wherever  »he   may 

knj^/*  said  his  brother 

f  ;    **  who   can    tell  \'      It 

I  boaa    beer  the   was 

my  it   was  beer,"    re- 

*^  I  only  said  it  was  a 

I  of  tha*e  brown,  pquat, 

i —  tb*  beiit  for  beer  that  I 

all  —  bitrwQ,  you  know, 

of  gray/^   • 

'  qpoI,  I  wish  I  could 

agi  from   her.     She 

lorely  St.  Cecilta,^^  aaid 

ijagmid  atl?  '*  aaked  Roger. 

ij  dm  trare  a  little  taller/' 

L 

i  kail  an  maTiy)le/'  aaid  my 

**Bttl  I  might  »ucc*eed  in 

As  jag  w  wel)  as  m  adding 

and  aiio*I  "  f^ot  of 

I  mtdd  lovely 

tlm  canrady — so  full 

of  vepoae." 


The  Vicar* s  Daughter. 


159 


little 


"Don't    j<m    think    it 
hard  ?  '*     I  ventured  to  suy. 

"  I  think  eo/-  jiuid  Roger. 

^  I  don't,"  iaid  my  husband.  "  I 
know  what  in  it  looks  Uke  hardneas; 
bat  I  think  it  cotnes  of  the  repreiisioa 
of  feeling/'* 

**You  have  studied  her  w»'ll  f^^r 
your  opportunities/'  I  tiaid. 

"I  have;  and  I  am  sure,  wiKit-jver 
Mrs.  Murley  may  suVf  that,  if  there 
be  any  truth  at  ail  in  tho^se  reports, 
there  is  some  satisfactory  explanation 
of  whatever  has  given  rise  to  them. 
I  wish  we  knew  anybtnly  eke  that 
knew  her.  Do  try  to  find  some  one 
that  does,  Wynnie." 

**I  don't  know  how  to  set  about 
it/'  I  said.  "I  should  be  only  too 
glad." 

*a  will  try,"  said  Roger.  *' Doea 
she  sing  ? '' 

**  I  have  heard  Judy  say  she  sang 
divinely ;  but  the  only  ocaision  on 
which  I  met  her  —  at  their  house, 
that  time  you  couldn't  go,  Percivale 
—  she  was  never  asked  to  sing." 

**  I  suspect,"  remarked  Roger,  "  it 
will  turn  out  to  be  only  that  she's 
something  of  a  Bohemiani  like  our- 
selves," 

**  Thank  you,  Roger;  but  for  my 
part,  I  doa*t  con-iider  myself  a  Bo- 
hemian at  all/'  I  said. 

**  I  am  afraid  you  must  rank  with 
your  husband,  wifie/'  siiid  mlnef  as 
the  wives  of  the  working  people  of 
London  often  call  their  husbands. 

"Then  you  do  count  yourself  a 
Bohemian :  pray,  what  significance 
do  you  atta*2h  to  the  epithet?"  I 
asked. 

"  1  don't  know,  except  it  signifies 
our  resemblance  to  the  gypsies,"  he 
answered. 

'*  I  don't  understand  you  quite." 

**  I  believe  the  gypsies  used  to  be 
considered    Bohemians,"     interposed 


160 


The  Vicar  *B  Daughter, 


Roger,  "tliough  they  are  doubtless 
of  Indiaa  origin.  Their  osagea 
being  qaite  dilfereat  from  those 
amongst  which  they  live,  the  name 
Boheiniaa  came  to  be  applied  to 
paiaters,  moiiiciaQSy  and  such  like 
generally,  to  whom,  save  by  courtesy, 
no  position  has  yet  been  acconled  by 
society  — so  called,** 

"  But  why  have  they  not  yet  vin- 
dicated for  tliemselved  a  social  posi* 
tion/'  I  asked,  *'and  that  a  high 
one?" 

**  Because  they  are  generally  poor, 
I  suppose,"  he  answered;  '*  and  so- 
ciety is  generally  stupid." 

"  May  it  not  be  because  they  are 
so  often,  like  the  gypsies,  lawless  in 
their  behavior,  as  well  as  peculiar  in 
their  habiU  ?  "  I  suggested, 

**  I  understand  you  perfectly,  Mrs, 
Percivale,"  rejoined  Roger  with 
mock  offence.  "  But  how  wonld  that 
apply  to  Charlie  ?  " 

"  Not  so  well  as  to  you,  I  confess," 
I  answered.  '*But  there  is  ground 
for  it  with  him  too," 

"  I  have  thought  it  alt  over  many 
a  time/*  said  Fercivale  ;  *'  and  I  sup- 
pose it  comes  in  part  from  inability 
to  understiiiid  the  worth  of  onr  call- 
ing, and  in  part  from  the  difficulty  of 
knowing  where  to  put  us." 

**  I  suspect/-  I  said,  "one  thing  is 
that  so  many  of  them  are  content  to 
be  received  as  merely  painters,  or 
whatever  they  may  be  by  profession. 
Many,  you  have  told  me,  for  in- 
Btan*!e,  accept  invitations  which  do 
not  include  their  wives." 

"They  often  go  to  parties,  of 
course,  where  there  are  no  ladies,'^ 
said  Kogor. 

**  That  is  not  what  1  mean,"  I  re- 
plie(L  *"  They  go  to  dinner-parties 
where  there  are  ladies,  and  evening 
parties,  too,  without  their  wives." 

**  Whoever  does  that,'*  said  Ferci- 


vale, ''  has  at  least  no  right  to  c 
that  he  is  regarded  as  a  Bob 
for  in  accepting  such  iuvia 
he  accepts  insult,  and  himself  j 
his  wife/* 

Nothing  irritated  my  bear  i 
as  to  be  asked  to  dinner  witlid 
He  would  not  even  otler  the  sha 
a  reason  for  dei^lining  the  iar 
"  For,"  he  would  say,  •*  if  I  gi| 
real   reason,  namely,  that  I 
choose  to  go  where   my  wife 
eluded,  they  will  set   it  down 
jealous  ambition  of  entering  aj 
beyond  her  reach ;  I  will  uyt 
false  reason,  and  indeed  have 
jection  to  their  seeing  that  I 
fended  ;  therefore*  I  a^j^igu  nuo 
they  have  any  chivalry  in  then 
may    find    out    my    reason 
enough." 

I  don't  think  I  ever  di^ 
him  so  much  (isonce  wheu  I  ttni 
him  to  accept  an  invitation 

with  the  Earl  of  H . 

was.  I  had  been  fancying  it 
to  porsua*le  him  to  get  over  hb  j 
at  the  omission  of  my  name,  I 
sake  of  the  advantage  it  would 
him  in  his  proteii^^ton.     I  laid  itj 
him  as  gently  and  eoaxingly  oji ! 
representing  how  expenses  iuc 
and  how  tile  cliihlren  would  Ixj  J 
ing  educiition  by  and  by, —  ren 
him  that  the  reputation  of  moil 
one  of  the  most  popular  paini 
been  brought  about  in  some 
by    their    sociid     qualitie.s    aH 
friendshipjs  they  made. 

**l8  it  likely  your  children 
ladies  and   gentlemen,''  he 
you  prevail  on  their  father  to  ] 
part  of  a  sneaking  parasittJ*/' 

I  was    frightened.      He  htn 
spoken  to  me  in  such  a  tou« 
saw  too  well  how  deeply  he 
to  take  offenoe  at  hih  ' 

could  only  beg  hmi  to  i 


The  Vicar's  Daughter. 


161 


^er  t»  8«7  9ueh  a  word 
Dring  him  that  I  beHe\^ed 
f  as  himself  that  the  best 
f  fsbildren  was  thetr  father's 


Nn  any  goeh  clogs  as  the 
bf  a  irife  encumhers  a  hus- 
kls  Roger  could  of  course 
it  iuTitatioQS  his  connec- 
^  old  and  honorable  family 
ioL  One  evening  he  came 
|b  a  dinner  at  Lady  Ber- 

I  do  yott  think  I  took  down 
f^  he  asked,  almost  before 

^cmardf   I  said,  flying 

^wager  aunt  ?  "  said  Ferci- 

i;  Mjsa  Clare,** 

tUie  I  "  we  both  repeated, 

led  ^aestion  and  exclamar 


L 


Clare,  i  acred ihle  aa  it 
Ir,"  he  answered. 
Id  aak  her  if  it  was  she  you 
tl»e  jog  of  beer  in  Tot- 
Boad?''  said  Perci^ale. 
adc  her  address?''  I 
is  a  question  more  wor- 

did.     I  belieTe  I  did*     I 

L* 

It,  then?'' 
my  woidf  I  haren't  the 

t    Ton  have  had  a 

Ity,  and  have  let  it 

a  man  to  be  trusted 

\  know  how  it  could   have 
Sftioddy    remember    ap- 


f. 


iim  sobjcet  more  thim  once 
asid  now  first  I  discover 
asked  the  qaestiou.  Or 
a  eertam  I  got  no  an- 


«  Bewitched  I " 

**  Yes,  I  suppose  so/' 

"Or,*'  suggested  Percivale,  ''she 
did  not  choose  to  tell  you ;  saw  the 
question  comings  and  led  you  away 
from  it ;  never  let  you  a-^k  it." 

"  I  have  heard  that  ladies  can  keep 
one  from  saying  what  they  don*t  want 
to  hear.  But  she  sha'n^t  escape  me 
so  a  second  time." 

**  Indeed,  you  don't  deserve  another 
chance,"  I  said.  "  You're  not  half  so 
clever  as  I  took  you  to  be,  Roger." 

**  When  I  think  of  it,  though,  it 
wasn't  a  question  so  easy  to  a^k,  or 
one  you  would  like  to  be  overheard 
asking." 

"Clearly  bewitched,"  I  said- 
"  But  for  that  I  forgive  you.  Did  she 
Bing?" 

"No.  I  don't  suppose  any  one 
there  ever  thought  of  askiug  such  a 
dingy-feathered  bird  to  sing." 

'*  You  had  some  music  ?  " 

"  Oh,  jes  !  Pretty  good,  and  very 
bad.  Mids  Clare's  forehead  wae 
crossed  by  no  end  of  flickering 
shadows  as  she  listened," 

^*  It  wasn't  for  want  of  interest  in 
her  you  forgot  to  find  out  where  she 
lived !  You  had  better  take  care, 
Master  Roger." 

"Take  care  of  what?" 

<«Why,  you  don't  know  her  ad- 
dress," 

**  What  has  that  to  do  with  taking 
care?" 

**  That  you  won't  know  where  to 
find  your  heart  if  you  should  happen 
to  want  it" 

"  Oh  !  I  am  past  that  kind  of  thing 
long  ago.  YouVe  made  an  uncle  of 
me." 

And  so  on,  with  a  good  deal  more 
nonsense,  but  no  new3  of  Miss  Clarets 
retreat, 

I  had  before  this  remarked  to  my 
husband  that  it  was  odd  she  bad  never 


162 


The  Vicar's  Daughter. 


called  since  dining  with  us;  but  he 
made  little  of  it,  gajiug  that  people 
who  gained  their  own  livelihood 
ouglit  to  be  excused  from  attunding 
to  nileB  which  liivl  therr  origin  with 
another  cla^ ;  and  I  had  thought  no 
more  about  it^  save  in  disappointment 
that  ijhe  had  not  given  me  tliat  oj>por- 
tnnity  of  improving  my  acquaintance 
with  her. 

CHAPTER  XVI. 
A  DISCOVEEY. 

One  Saturday  niglit,  my  husband 
happening  to  Ik?  out,  an  event  of  rare 
occurrence,  Roger  called  ;  and  as  there 
were  gome  things  I  liad  not  been  able 
to  get  during  the  day,  I  ai^ked  hira  to 
go  with  me  to  Tottenham  Court  Road. 
It  was  not  far  from  the  region  where 
we  livedj  and  I  did  a  great  part  of  my 
small  shopping  there.  The  early  clos- 
ing liad,  if  I  remeraberrightly,  begun  to 
ehow  itself;  anyhow, several  of  tlie  shops 
were  shut,  and  we  walked  a  long 
way  down  the  street,  looking  for  some 
place  likely  to  supply  what  I  required. 

"It  was  just  here  I  came  up  with 
the  girl  and  the  brown  jug/'  said 
Roger,  as  we  ifeaehed  the  large  dia- 
eenttng  chapel. 

"  That  adventure  seems  to  have 
taken  a  great  hold  of  you,  Roger/'  I 
said. 

"  She  was  so  like  Miss  Clare  !  '*  he 
returned,  **  I  can't  get  the  one  face 
clear  of  the  other.  When  I  met  her 
at  Lady  Bernard's,  the  first  thing  I 
thought  of  was  the  brown  jug.' ^ 

♦*  Were  you  as  much  pleased  with 
her  conversation  aa  at  our  house  ?  "  I 
asked, 

**  Eveu  more,"  he  answered.  "  I 
found  her  ideas  of  art  so  wide,  a^j  well  as 
just  and  accurate,  that  I  was  puzsiled 
to  think  where  she  had  had  opportu- 
nity of  developing  them*  I  quei- 
tioned  her   about   it,  and  found  she 


was  in  the  habit  of  goingi  I 
she  could  spare  time,  to  1 
Giillery,  where  her  custonj 
saidr  not  to  pass  fmm  plctq 
ture,  but  keep  to  one  ur 
itself  in  her  mind«  —  1 
pression  she  used,  ei 
self  to  mean,  until  she 
know  what  the  painter  ha 
self  to  do,  and  why  tliis  wa| 
was  which  she  could  not  d 
derstand.  Clearly,  withoal 
ing  taken  a  pencil  in  he^ 
has  educated  herself  to  a  I 
ceptioa  of  what  is  den 
true  picture.  Of  cour 
it  lies  in  her  mu 
ment,  —  There,-'  he  cried 
as  we  came  i.tpposite  a  pavel 
**  that  is  the  place  I 
down."' 

"  Then  you  do  think 
the  beer-jug   was  Misa 
all?" 

**  Not  in  the  least 
could  not  separate  them 

"  Well,  I  must  say,  it  d 
A  girl  like  that  and  M] 
Why,  as  often  as  you  ap^ 
one,  you  seem  to  think  of  tj 

"  In  fact/'  he  returned,  1 
I  say,  unable  to  dissocil 
But  if  you  had  seen  the 
would  not  wonder.  Th^ 
was  absolutely  complete/' 

"  1  believe   you   do  coosi 
one  and  the  same  ;  and   I 
than  half  inclined  to  think  | 
reinembering  what  Judysai 

**  Isn*t  it  possible    some 
knows  Miss  Clare  may  havl 
girl,  and  been  misled  by  the  I 

**  But  where,  then,  does  1 
live?     Nobody  seems  to  ki^ 

"  You  hiive    never 
but  Mi-s.  Mt>rley." 

'*  You      have     yourgd 
given  me  reason  to  thli] 


1         WU   ife  I 

denufl 

cried  | 
pavd 

• 

01  in] 


The   Vicar's  Daughter, 


1G3 


did  live  any- 
at,   slie    would    have 
sroid  it,*' 
pped  to  look  down  the 

tatd  Eager,  "  some  one 
past  QowaDd  see  Mrs. Per- 

of  the  celebrated  paint- 
in  Tottenham  Court  Boad, 
swmg-door  of  a  corner 
|e^    talking     to     a   joung 

raiigfit  hare  giren  oecadon 
I**  I  wid.  "To  avoid  it, 
Nm  the  court  and  see  what 

)  m  fit  place  for  joa  to  go 

r?e  m  my  fathers  parish,  I 
known  everybody  in  it" 
^ren^t  the   slightest  idea 
|l«  faying." 

Inyhow^and  let  ns  see  what 

like,^  I  insisted. 

,aootlier  word  he  gave  me 

dotim  the  court  we  went^ 

ing  gin-^bop,  and  into  the 

d-     It  was  one  of  those 

ich^  while  the  general  ef- 

▼ivid  in  one's  mind,  the 

so  few  that  it  is  dif- 

a«eh  hj  way  of  descrip- 

bad  once  been  occu- 

m  better  circumstances 

inhabitants;  and  in* 

pked  all  decent  enough  un- 

Ivo  rigiit  angles,  we  came 

B^  aort.    They  were   still 

d  bad  plenty  of  windows  ; 

ight  of  a  single  lamp  at* 

they  looked  very  dirty  and 

)d  dreaiy*    A  little  shop, 

«ffiiigsaad  haira-eyes  in 

r  wia  lighted  by  a  tallow 

\  %  gLQgtsr-b€»or  bottle,  with 

Einalian's  LL  Whiskey" 

many  customexa 


to  the  extent  of  a  bottle/'  sdd  Koger* 
"  But  no  doubt  they  have  some  privi- 
leges from  the  public-house  at  the 
corner  for  hanging  up  the  card-" 

The  houses  had  aunk  areas,  just 
wide  enough  for  a  stair,  and  the  base- 
ments seemed  full  of  tenants*  There 
was  a  little  wind  blowing,  so  that  the 
atmosphere  was  tolerable,  notwith- 
standing a  few  stray  leaves  of  cab- 
bage,  suggestive  of  others  in  a  more 
objectionable  condition  not  far  off. 

A  confused  noise  of  loud  voices, 
calling  and  scolding,  hitherto  drowned 
by  the  tumult  of  the  street,  now 
reached  our  ears.  The  place  took 
one  turn  more,  and  then  the  origin  of 
it  became  apparent.  At  the  farther 
end  of  the  passage  was  another  lamp, 
the  light  of  which  shone  upon  a 
group  of  men  and  women,  in  alterca- 
tion, which  had  not  yet  come  to 
blows.  It  might,  including  children, 
have  numbered  twenty,  of  which 
some  seemed  drunk,  and  all  more  or 
less  excited,  Koger  turned  to  go 
back  the  moment  he  caught  sight  of 
them ;  but  I  felt  inclined,  I  hardly 
knew  why,  to  linger  a  little.  Should 
any  danger  ofiTer,  it  would  be  easy  to 
gain  the  open  thoroughfare. 

*'It^s  not  at  all  a  fit  place  for  a 
lady,"  he  said. 

**  Certainly  not,'*  I  answered  j  **  it 
hardly  seems  a  fit  place  for  human 
beings.  These  are  human  beings, 
though.     Let  us  go  through  it." 

He  still  hesitated ;  but  as  I  went 
on,  he  could  but  follow  me.  I  wanted 
to  see  what  the  attracting  centre  of 
the  Little  crowd  was  \  and  that  it 
must  be  occupied  with  some  affair  of 
more  than  ordinary  interest,  I  judged 
from  the  fact  that  a  good  many  super- 
terrestrial  spectators  looked  down 
from  the  windows  at  various  eleva- 
tions upon  the  disputants,  whose 
voices  now  and  then  lulled  for  a  mo- 


164 


TJie   Vicar '$  Daughter. 


ment  only  to  break  oat  in  fresh  ob- 
jurgntiou  and  dispute. 

Drawing  a  little  nearor,  a  ftlight 
parting  of  the  crowd  revealed  its  core 
to  ua.  It  was  a  little  woman,  with- 
out bonnet  or  shawl,  whose  back  was 
towards  us.  She  turned  from  side  to 
side,  DOW  talking  to  ooe,  and  now  to 
another  of  the  surrounding  circle. 
At  first  I  thought  she  was  setting 
forth  her  grievances,  in  the  hope  of 
sympathy,  or  perhaps  of  justice  ;  but 
I  soon  perceived  that  her  motions 
were  too  calm  for  that.  Sometimes 
the  crowd  would  speak  altogether, 
sometimes  keep  silent  for  a  full  min- 
ute while  she  went  on  talking* 
When  she  tUTBed  her  face  towards  us, 
Hoger  and  I  turned  ours,  and  stared 
at  each  other.  The  face  was  disfig- 
ured by  a  swollen  eye,  evidently  from 
a  blow  j  but  clearly  enough,  if  it  was 
not  Miss  Clare,  it  was  the  young 
woman  of  the  beer-jug.  Neither  of 
us  spoke,  but  turned  once  more  to 
watch  the  result  of  what  seemed  to 
have  at  length  settled  down  into  an 
almost  amicable  conference.  After  a 
few  more  grumbles  and  protestations, 
the  group  began  to  break  up  into  twos 
and  threes.  These  the  young  woman 
seemed  to  set  herself  to  break  up 
again.  Here,  however,  an  ill-looking 
fellow  like  a  costermonger,  with  a 
broken  nose,  came  up  to  us,  and  with 
a  strong  Irish  accent  and  offensive 
mannerj  but  still  with  a  touch  of 
Irish  breeding,  requested  to  know 
what  our  business  was,  Roger  asked 
if  tbe  place  wasn*t  a  thoroughfare, 

**  Not  for  the  likes  o*  you,*'  he  an- 
swered, **ae  comes  pryin'  after  the 
likes  of  us.  We  manage  our  own 
affairs  down  hero^ — we  do.  You'd 
better  be  off,  my  lady/* 

I  have  my  doubts  what  sort  of 
reply  Eoger  might  have  returned  if 
he  had  been  aloae,  but  he  certainly 


spoke  in  a  very  concOrali 
which,  however,  tlie  man  i 
to  appreciate,  for  he  called 
but  the  young  woman,  cui 
of  our  little  group,  and  a 
presume,  that  it  also  teqm 
sion,  approached  us.  Shi 
within  a  yard  of  us,  wh^ 
her  face  brightened,  aol 
claimed,  in  a  tone  of  surp] 

"  Mrs,  Percivale  I     Yo«i 

It  was  indeed  Miss  CU 
out  the  least  embarrasamal 
out  her  hand  to  me^  but  I 
I  did  not  take  it  ver] 
Roger,  however,  behaved  | 
they  stcHiMl  in  a  drawing-ro^ 
brought  me  to  a  aense  of  | 

"I  don*t  look  very  rei 
fear,"  she  said,  putting  he| 
her  eye.  "  The  fact  is,  I 
blow,  and  it  will  look  w<3 
row.     Were  you  coming  t<J 

I  forget  what  lame  aii| 
of  us  gave. 

"  Will  you  come  in  1 

On  the  spur  of  the ' 
clined.  For  all  my  fi_ne  ta] 
I  shrunk  from  the  idea  ( 
one  of  those  houses.  I  c^ 
in  excuse,  that  my  wboli 
in  a  condition  of  bewilder^ 

**Can   I   do    any   thini 
then  ?  "  she  asked,  in  a  ^ 
ly    marked    with    dis 
thought. 

**  Thank    you,    no," 
hardly  knowing  what  my  l 

**Then  good-nigh^'*she( 
nodding  kindly,  tume 
one  of  the  houses. 

We    also    turned 
walked  out  of  tljo  court. 

**  Why  ilidn't  you  go 
said  Roger,  as  soon  as  ^ 
street 

**  I'm  sorry  I  didn't 
to  gO|  Roger  j  but  *^— 


elH 


It 

it  my  1 
t,'*sh^ 
aec^j 

go  M 


The  Vicar '8  Daughter. 


165 


yoa  xniglit  have  gone, 
with  youy"  he  said, 
hink  it  would  have  been 
ler  thing  to  do,  without 
s  abont  her/'  I  answered, 
"  You  can't  tell  what 
«  it  maj  be.'' 
ood  place  wherever  she 
I    much    mistaken,"  he 

J  be    much    mistaken, 

[  have   been    mistaken 
ce  in  m  J  life.    I  am  not 
time,  though." 
le  jou  would  have  gone 
•en  with  you  ?  " 
,  if  she  had  asked  me, 
very  likely." 
lay  the  disappointment 
g^mpse  into  the  sweet 
such  a    home    to    my 

spiteful  speech;  and 
re  made  me  feel  it  was, 
the  rather  patronizing 
id  of  Boger,  I  found 
^ling.  So  I,  too,  kept 
Lothing  beyond  a  plati- 
sed  between -us  when  I 

at  my  own  door,  my 
rly  forgotten,  and  some- 
my  mind. 

1  mean  to  come  in  ?  "  I 
sld  out  his  hand  at  the 
taira  to  bid  me  good- 
husband  will  be  home 
has  not  come  already. 
be  bored,  with  my  com- 
an  sit  in  the  study." 
I   had  better  not,"  he 

f  Borry,  Koger,  if  I  was 
"  I  said;  "but  how 
ih  me  to  be  hand-and- 
woman  who  visits  peo- 
b  wdl  aware  would  not 
tiag  her  if  they  had  a 
I 


notion  of  her  surroundings.  That 
can't  be  right,  I  am  certain.  I  pro^ 
test  I  feel  just  as  if  I  had  been  read- 
ing an  ill-invented  story,  —  an  unnat- 
ural fiction.  I  cannot  get  these 
things  together  in  my  mind  at  all,  do 
what  I  win." 

"  There  must  be  some  way  of  ac- 
oounting.for  it,"  said  Roger. 

"No  doubt,"  I  returned;  "but 
who  knows  what  that  uTay  may  be  ?  " 

"  You  may  be  wrong  in  supposing 
that  the  people  at  who9e  houses  she 
visits  know  nothing  about  her 
habits." 

"  Is  it  at  all  likely  they  do,  Roger  ? 
Do  you  think  it  is  ?  I  know  at  least 
that  my  cousin  dispensed  with  her 
services  as  soon  as  she  came  to  the 
knowledge  of  certain  facts  concerning 
these  very  points." 

"Excuse  me  —  certain  rumors*^ 
very  uncertain  facts." 

When  you  are  cross,  the  slightest 
play  upon  words  is  an  offence.  I 
knocked  at  the  door  in  dudgeon,  then 
turned  and  said,  — 

"  My  cousin  Judy,  Mr.  Roger  " — 

But  here  I  paused,  for  I  had  noth- 
ing ready.  Anger  makes  some  peo- 
ple cleverer  for  the  moment,  but 
when  I  am  angry  I  am  always 
stupid.  Roger  finished  the  sentence 
for  me. 

—  "  Your  cousin  Judy  is,  you  must 
allow,  a  very  conventional  woman," 
he  said. 

"  She  is  very  good-natured,  any- 
how. And  what  do  jou  say  to  Lady 
Bernard?" 

"She  hasn't  repudiated  Miss 
Clare's  acquaintance,  so  far  as  I 
know." 

"But,  answer  me,  —  do  you  be- 
lieve Lady  Bernard  would  invite  her 
to  meet  her  friends  if  she  knew  all  ?  " 

"Depend  upon  it,  Lady  Bernard 
knows  what  she  is  about.    People  of 


I 


166 


The  Vicar's  Daughter. 


I 
I 

I 
I 


her  rank  can  aflTord  to  be  unconven- 
tional." 

This  irritated  me  yet  more,  for  it 
implied  that  I  was  influenced  by  the 
tjoaventionality  wbich  both  hg  and 
my  huaband  despbed;  and  Sarah 
opening  the  door  that  instant,  I 
stepped  in,  without  even  saying  good- 
night to  him.  Before  she  closed  it, 
however,  I  heard  my  husband's  voice, 
and  ran  out  again  to  welcome  him* 

He  and  lioger  had  already  met  in 
the  little  front  garden.  They  did 
not  ahake  haud^  —  they  never  did  — 
they  alwaya  met  as  if  they  had 
parted  only  an  hour  ago. 

**  What  wero  you  and  my  wife 
quarrelling  about,  Eodge  ? "  I  heard 
Percivale  ask,  and  paused  on  the 
middle  of  the  stair  to  hear  his 
answer^ 

**  How  do  you  know  we  were  quar- 
relling^? ''  returoed  Roger  gloomily. 

**  I  heard  yoti  from  the  very  end  of 
the  street/*  :said  my  husband 

**Thiit^3  not  so  f;vr,'*  said  Koger; 
for  indeed  one  house,  with,  I  confess, 
a  good  aj>ace  of  garden  on  each  side 
of  it,  and  the  end  of  anotlier  house, 
finished  the  street  But  notwitlj- 
standing  the  shortness  of  the  dis- 
tance it  stung  me  to  the  quick.  Here 
had  I  been  regarding,  not  even  with 
CO  lite  rapt,  only  with  disgust,  the 
quarrel  in  which  Miss  Clare  was 
mixed  upj  and  half  an  hour  after, 
my  own  voice  was  heard  in  dispute 
with  ray  husband^s  brother  from  the 
end  of  the  street  in  which  we  lived  [ 
I  felt  liumiliated,  and  did  not  rush 
duwu  the  remaining  half  of  the  steps 
to  implore  my  husband's  protection 
against  Roger's  crossness. 

*^Too  fac  to  hear  a  wife  and  a 
brother,  though,"  returned  Percivale 
jocosely, 

**  Go  on,"  said  Roger ;  **  pray  go 
on.    L^  do^»  delight  comes  next.     I 


beg  Mrs,  Percivale's  pardon- 
amend  the  quotation  :  '  Iifl 
light  to  worry '  " —  V 

'*Cftt8,'*  I  exclaimed  j  and 
down  the  steps,  I  kissed  Itog 
I  kissed  my  husband. 

*♦  1  meant  —  I  mean — I 
ing  to  say  lambs.*'' 

**  Now,  Roger,  don't  add 
vices  flattery  and  "  — 

**  And  libbing,**  he  snbjoj;]^ 

"  I  didrrt  say  so."  A 

*^  You  only  meant  it."  ^^ 

"Don't   begin   again/'    in 
Percivale.     "  Come  in^  and 
cause  in  dispute  to  me.'* 

We  did  go  in,  and  we  did  i 
matter  to  him.  By  the  time 
between  us  told  bim  the  fact 
case,  however,  the  point  in 
between  us  appeyired  to  hav 
bazy,  the  fact  being  that  ne 
us  cared  to  say  any  thing  mo 
it.  Percivale  insisted  that  tl 
no  question  before  the  ooi 
length  Roger,  turning  from  n 
brother^  said, — 

*'  It^s  not  worth  mentionin 
ley  J  but  what  led  to  our  irreo 
quarrel  was  this:  I  thought 
might  have  accepted  Miss  CI 
vitation  to  walk  in  and  pa 
visit  J  and  Wynnie  though 
suppose,  too  ready  to  sacd 
dignity  to  the  pleasure  of  seei 
tie  more  of  the  object  of  out 
tion.     There!"  M 

My  huijband  turned  to  ijH 

"  Mrs.  Percivale,  do  yon  ao 
as  a  correct  representatiMg 
differeuce?'*  ^ 

**  Well,"  I  answered,  hesil 
"  yes,  on  the  whole.     Ail , 
is  the  word  dignity. '^^ 

**  I  retract  it'*  cried 
accept  any  substitute  you  pn 

"  Let  it  stand,"  I  returned. 
do  as  well  as  a  better. 


,  nesii 


The  Vicar's  Daughter. 


167 


that  it  was  not  exactly  my 

no ;  your  sense  of  propriety," 
husband ;  and  then  sat  silent 
ante  or  two,  pondering  like  a 
At  length  he  spoke  :  — 
ie,^  he  said,  "  you  might  have 
:h  your  brother,  I  think  ;  but 
nderstand  your  disinclination. 
same  time,  a  more  generous 
[It  of  Miss  Clare  might  have 
'd  any  difference  of  feeling 
latter."^ 

,"  I  said,  greatly  inclined  to 
only  postponed  my  judgment 
ng  her." 

[  <Hily  postponed  my  crying, 
s  Teiy  mnch  ashamed  of  my- 

CHAPTEB  XVn. 
MISS   CLASS. 

arse  myiinsband  and  I  talked 
leal  more  about  what  I  ought 
done;  and  I  saw  clearly 
that  I  onght  to  have  run  any 
•e  might  be  in  accepting  her 
n-  I  had  been  foolishly  tak- 
■e  care  of  myself  than  was 
f.  I  told  him  I  would  write 
*  and  ask  him  when  he  could 
there  again. 

11  tell  you  a  better  plan,"  he 
I  will  go  with  you  myself. 
It  will  get  rid  of  half  the 
Iness  there  would  be  if  you 
h  Boger,  after  having  with 
sed  to  go  in." 

would  that  be  fair  to  Roger  ? 
Id  think  I  didn't  like  going 
I,  and  I  would  go  with  Roger 
e.  It  was  I  who  did  not 
^     He  did.^ 

plan,  however,  will  pave  the 
a  fdn  explanation  —  or  con- 
■Iber,  I  suppose  it  will  turn 
u  I  know  you  are  burning 
\  iL,   widi    year  mania  for 


I  knew  he  did  not  like  me  the 
worse  for  that  mania,  though. 

"The  next  time,"  he  added,  "you 
can  go  with  Roger,  always  supposing 
you  should  feel  inclined  to  continue 
the  acquaintance,  and  then  you  will 
be  able  to  set  him  right  in  her  eyes." 
The  plan  seemed  unobjectionabre. 
But  just  then  Perci  vale  was  very  busy ; 
and  I  being  almost  as  much  occupied 
with  my  baby  as  he  was  with  his, 
day  after  day  and  week  after  week 
passed,  during  which  our  duty  to  Miss 
Clare  was,  I  will  not  say  either  for- 
gotten or  neglected,  but  unfulfilled. 

One  afternoon,  I  was  surprised  by  a 
visit  from  my  father.  He  not  unfre- 
quently  surprised  us. 

"  Why  didn't  you  let  ns  know,  pa- 
pa?" I  said.  "A  surprise  is  very 
nice ;  but  an  expectation  is  much  nicer, 
and  lasts  so  much  longer." 

"  I  might  have  disappointed  you." 
"  Even  if  you  had,  I  should  have 
already     enjoyed     the     expectation. 
That  would  be  safe." 

"  There's  a  good  deal  to  be  said  in 
excuse  of  surprises,"  he  rejoined; 
"  but  in  the  present  case,  I  have  a 
special  one  to  offer.  I  was  taken  with 
a  sudden  desire  to  see  you.  It  was 
very  foolish  no  doubt,  and  you  are 
quite  right  in  wishing  I  weren't  here, 
only  going  to  come  to-morrow." 

"  Don't  be  so  cruel,  papa.  Scarcely 
a  day  passes  in  which  /  do  not  long 
to  see  you.  My  baby  makes  me  think 
more  about  my  home  than  ever." 

"  Then  she's  a  very  healthy  baby, 
if  one  may  judge  by  her  influences. 
But  you  know,  if  I  had  had  to  give 
you  warning,  I  could  not  have  been 
here  before  to-morrow,  and  surely 
you  will  acknowledge,  that,  however 
nice  expectation  may  be,  presence  is 
better." 

"Yes,  papa.  We  will  make  a 
compromise,   if  you  please.      Every 


168 


The  Vicar's  Daughter. 


time  ya«  think  of  cooiiDg  to  me,  you        "  I  don't  think  I  could  dea 
mtijst  either  come  at  once,  or  let  me    place  to  you  do  that  you 
know  you  are  coming.     Do  you  agree    it     But  if  Perciralo  wouldn't  i 
to  that  ?  "  nay  going  with  you  instea*!  of  \ 

*'  I  agree,"  he  said.  him,  I  should  he  only  too  b»p|][J 

So  I  have  the  pleasure  of  a^  con-   accompany  you.    May  I,  Ferci^ 
Stan t  expectation.     Any  day  he  may        *' Certainly.    It  will  do  just 
walk  in  unheralded ;  or  by  any  post    to  go  with  your  father  aa  with 
I  may  receive  a  letter  with  the  newa    I  #nly  stipulate,  that,  if  you  ikM 
that  he  ia  coming  at  such  a  time. 

Aa  we  sat  at  dinner  that  evening, 
he  asked  if  we  had  lately  seen  Miss 
Clare. 

"  IVe  seen  her  only  once,  and  Per- 
eivale  not  at  all,  since  you  were  here 
last,  papa,^'  I  answered. 

'*  How's  that  ?  '*  he  asked  againt  a 
little   surprised.     **  Haven't  you  got    know;  and  the  probability  is, 
her  address  yet?     I  want  very  much    that  time  we  should  not  find  hw^' 
to  know  more  of  her."  "Then   why    not    to-night?** 

'*8o  do  we.     I  haven't  got  her  ad-    rejoined. 
dress,  but  I  know  where  she  lives.'* 

"  What  do  you  mean,  Wynnie  ? 
Has  she  taken  to  dark  sayings  of 
late,  Percivale  ? '' 

I  told  him   the  whole  story  of  my    earlier  than  we  can  to-night" 
adventure  with   K*3ger,  and  the  re-        "  Ah,  well !  we  will   go  to-m 
^rt^  Judy  had  prejudiced  my  judg-    evening.       We     could     dine 
ment  withaL     He  heard  me  through*  couldn't  we?" 
tnsilenoe,  for  it  was  a  rule  with  him        So   it   was   airanged.     My  (d 
tt^Ycr  to   interrupt  a  narrator.      He    went   about   some    business    in 
to  say,  *•  YoQ  will  gimerally  get    morning.     We  dined  early,  and 

mofo,  and  in   a  better  fashion,  if   out  about  six  o'clock. 


satisfied,  you  take   Roger  with  , 

next  time." 

"Of  courael  will." 
**Theu   well   go  to-morrow 

ing,"  said  my  father. 

^<  I  don't  think  she  is  Vki 

at  home  in   the   morning,"  I 

"She  goes  out   giving   lesaon^j 


"  Why  not,  if  you  wish  it?" 
'*  I  do  wish  it,  then!" 
'*  If  you  knew  the  place,  tboii;;li. 
think  you  would  prefer  going  a  iitil^ 


let  a»y  narrative  take  its  own 
riou3  course,  without  tlie  interrup- 
tiott  of  nnjuestod  explanations.  By 
the  ttnii»  it  is  over,  you  will  find  the 
qaeatJOQA  yott  wanted  to  ask  mostly 
vaiitakad.** 

*'l>a«criW  the  place  to  me,  Wyn-  even  in  respect  of  physical  rlaniwf 
•k***  W  aaklf  when  I  had  ended.  "  I  can  spring  only  from  moral 
mumit  fO  9mA  CM!  Hot.  I  have  a  ans- 
,  aowMiiitiaig  almost  to  a  convic* 
,  llnl  sht  u  one  whose  acquaint- 
OUCfht  Id  ht  edlttfuted  at  any 
•Hit.  -  ^ouM  grand  explana-    so  courageous  was   the   undevelop 

lioD  ik  vii  (U1S  com^xmOdbo/ty  strange-    fore-feeling,  that,  if  any  evil   shoO 

overtake  me  in  my  father's  compn 


My  father  was  getting  an  old  itaij 
and  if  any  protection  had  bet^ti  R 
quired,  he  could  not  have  been  hll 
so  active  as  Roger;  and  yet  I 
twice  as  safe  with  him.  I  am 
fied  that  the  deepest  sense  of 


neither  do  you  half  so  much  it  at  ev 
happening  to  you,  as  fear  evil  bai 
pening  which  ought  not  to  \m\ 
pen  to  you.     1  believe  what  made  fl 


A  Nursery  Bhyme. 


169 


mid  not   care;  it  would   be   all 

then,  anyhow.  The  repose  was 
J  lather  himself,  aod  neither  in 
tieDgth  nor  his  wisdom.  The 
sr  might  fail,  the  latter  might 
ike;  bat  so  long  as  I  was  with 
in  what  I  did,  no  harm  worth 
ling  harm  could  come  to  me,  — 
neh  as  I  should  neither  lament 
ffL  Scarcely  a  shadow  of  dan- 
bowever,  showed  itselt 
was  a  cold  evening  in  the  mid- 
>f  November.     The  light,  which 

been  scanty  enough  all  day, 
Tanished  in  a  thin  penetrating 

Bound  eveiy  lamp  in  the  street 
a  colored  halo;  the  gay  shops 
•ed  like  jewel-carems  of  Alad- 
ikoflowed  out  of  the  darkness; 
the  people  that  hurried  or  saun- 
1  along  looked  inscrutable. 
»  could  they  live?  Had  they 
ody  to  love  them  ?  Were  their 
a  quiet  under  their  dingy  cloaks 
^bby  coats? 

Tes,^  returned  my  father,  to 
I  I  had  said  something  to  this 
^  ^  what  would  not  one  give  for 
p  into  the  mysteries  of  all  these  * 
9  that  go  crowding  past  us.  If 
old  but  see  through  the  opaque 
of  them,  some  would  glitter  and 

like  diamond  mines;  others 
ps  would  look  mere  earthy 
;  some  of  them  forsaken  quar- 


ries, with  a  great  pool  of  stagnant 
water  in  the  bottom ;  some  like  vast 
coal-pits  of  gloom,  into  which  you 
dared  not  carry  a  lighted  lamp  for 
fear  of  explosion.  Some  would  be 
mere  lumber-rooms ;  others  ill-ar- 
ranged libraries,  without  a  poets' 
comer  anywhere.  But  what  a 
wealth  of  creation  they  show,  and 
what  infinite  room  for  hope  it 
affords!" 

"  But  don't  you  think,  papa,  there 
may  be  something  of  worth  lying 
even  in  the  earth-pit,  or  at  the  bot- 
tom of  the  stagnant  water  in  the  for- 
saken quarry  ?  ^ 

'^  Indeed  I  do ;  though  I  have  met 
more  than  one  in  my  lifetime  con- 
cerning whom  I  felt  compelled  to  say 
that  it  wanted  keener  eyes  than  mine 
to  discover  the  hidden  jewel  But 
then  there  are  keener  eyes  than 
mine,  for  there  are  more  loving  eyes. 
Myself  I  have  been  able  to  see  good 
very  clearly  where  some  could  see 
none;  and  shall  I  doubt  that  God 
can  see  good  where  my  mole-eyes  can 
see  none  ?  Be  sure  of  this,  that,  as  he 
is  keen-eyed  for  the  evil  in  his  crea- 
tures to  destroy  it,  he  would,  if  it 
were  possible,  be  yet  keener-eyed  for 
the  good  to  nourish  and  cherish  it. 
If  men  would  only  side  with  the  good 
that  is  in  them,  —  will  that  the  seed 
should  grow  and  bring  forth  fruit !  " 


A     NURSERY     RHYME. 

BY   CHKISTIXA    G.    R088ETTI. 


Hope  is  like  a  harebell,  trembling  from  its  birth ; 
Love  is  like  a  rose,  the  joy  of  all  the  earth : 
Paith  is  like  a  lily,  lifted  high,  and  white  ; 
Love  is  like  a  lovely  rose,  the  world's  delight : 
Harebells  and  sweet  lilies  show  a  thomless  growth. 
Bat  the  rose  with  all  its  thorns  excels  them  both. 


170 


Sexual  Science. 


SEXUAL    SCIENCE. 


BY   THOMAS   MEEHAX. 


ScrENCK  b as  bad  its  say  on  most 
modern  questions;  but,  in  relation  to 
the  great  movement  for  *•  women's 
rightti,"  it  has  been  singnlarlj  dumb* 
We  are  not  of  those  who  believe  that 
science  can  solve  every  social  prol>- 
lem.  We  want  something  decisive 
for  political  action;  but  science  knows 
of  no  dividing  line.  We  may,  as  a 
matter  of  fact,  assert  that  there  is 
day,  and  be  as  positive  that  there  is 
night ;  but  there  is  also  a  time  when 
it  is  neither  day  nor  night, — a 
twilight  which  some  will  class  with 
one  or  with  the  other,  according  to  the 
different  optica!  power  with  which 
they  may  be  blessed.  It  is  the  prov- 
ince of  common-sense,  not  science^ 
to  set  that  matter  at  rest. 

But  though  we  would  not  appeal 
to  science  as  an  unerring  guide  in  all 
the  aflfairin  of  life,  a  knowledge  of  its 
leading  principles  will  so  expand  our 
views  and  guide  our  judgment,  that 
we  are  far  less  likely  to  err  in  our 
practical  efforts  to  have  tilings  right, 
than  if  we  go  blundering  along  in 
the  dim  light  of  tradition  and  past 
experience*  It  may  help  us  in  this 
matter  of  the  relations  of  the  sexes. 
Let  us  see  what  light  it  w*ill  give  us. 
And  first,  why  are  wo  created  of 
two  sexes  ?  What  separate  purposes 
do  these  divisions  serve  ?  Separate  sex 
is  not  confined  to  man.  Nature  will 
not  answer  us  in  this  limited  field. 
The  division  exists  in  high  and  low 
organisms;  in  the  vegetable  as  well 
as  in  the  animal  world.  Those  who 
do  not  look  far  beyond  men  might 
answer  that  sex  had  for  its  object  the 
continuation  and  reproduction  of  spe- 
cies  or   indiv^iduals;     but    this    can 


scarcely  be  the  leading' 
nature,  because  in  plant! 
lower  orders  of  animal  Ufa 
tion  is  carried  on  quite  il 
of  any  sexual  organizatic 
things,  such  for  inst 
grasses  and  herbace 
crease  themselves  yea 
underground  suckers  or 
some  cases  all  behind 
point  dies  annually,  a 
appears  a  short  dist 
original  start  in  g-poi 
potato,  for  instance;  a 
production  pui*hes  from 
stem  for  perhaps  a  foot,  ^ 
end  appears  the  '^potatoi 
remain  in  the  earth  wij 
turbance,  the  thready  | 
would  die,  and  the  potat^ 
before,  gaining  another 
forth,  until,  after  a 
years,  it  would  bo  twe 
from  the  starting-point,  ' 
given  birth  to  twenty  neiJ 
als-  This  may  go  on  for 
nite  number  of  years,  an 
thing  we  know  forever,  wi 
sexual  agency  whatever.  I 
ing  we  know  how  we  can  g 
after  year  continually 
plant  by  grafts,  cut 
sets,  and  other  waj 
Dut4!h  currant  has  probabl 
produced  in  this  way  for  l! 
dreda  of  years.  In  the  Ifl 
of  animal  life  also  the  ad 
break  apart,  and  each  sepi 
grow ;  and  wo  may  get  ev^ 
crustacean  where  we  find,  tb 
a  broken-off  limb  will  not  i 
the  original^  the  animal  i 
the  broken  limb.     We  see  1 


^u  can  g 

Lily  m^ 
attiiH 
wajl^ 


Sexwxl  Science. 


171 


itions  tliat  whatever  was  Ka> 

|lg«et  in  the  creation  of  sex^ 
Itmi   waa   not    the    primary 

is  eiM  otwenration  we  may 

we  go  along,  in  regard  to 

of  piopagatioD«   which 

hereafter.     Each  indi- 

K9t  io  to  lipeak,  in  this  way, 

t  tnoil  part  au  exact  repro- 

iC  tfie  ofig^nal.    A  graft  from 

I  p«Si>^tR«   produces   a  tree 

ttfll  ieckel  pears ;  and  the  red 

Ittixaiit  is  the  saoie  currant 

fi  ft  iHUftclt  of  fruit  from  one 

■m  tbe  aame  as  if  taken  horn 

M;    A  aprig  from  the  dwarf 

bf   reprodQces    edging-lK)x; 

tUBe-box  produces  in  the  same 

^tic*-gtowiDg  kind.     If  Tom 

HjQft&iel  Lambert  could  be 

■Kn  tilts  style,  there  would 

pHI  latge  or  small  people  so 

[alike  tJiat  their  own  mothers 

MbJuMw   them  apart.     This 

|Bii  unnecessary  in  plants 

-mm  animaU.    Each   part 

I  Mie  of  tUelf  as  soon  as  it  is 

i  bom  its   parents.     Here  it 

>  cooceftt  Katnre  whether  the 

El  tta  own  child  or  not 
igher  orders  of  animals, 
r  is  of  the  utmost  impor- 
\  cnabljog  a  mother  to  care 
fonngf  the  races  could  not 
tlw  aaae  principle  of  in- 
umrks  the  lower  ones. 
b«ck  to  the  plant. 
powera  of  reproduction 
sad  division,  it  bears 
the  results  differ, 
n^rodoce  exactly  the 
In  a  bed  of  seedlings 
W9  cscaetly  alike;  and  it  is 
Mb  law  that  we  have  so 
of  flowers  in  our 
The  flodstd  preserve  the 
fmiiations^  and  destroy 


the  rest-  So  in  fruits.  The  seeds  of 
the  seckel  pear  will  produce  some- 
thing like  seckel,  but  not  seckels 
exactly;  and  if  we  raise  fifty  trees 
from  fifty  seeds  in  this  way,  there 
will  be  fifty  varieties,  all  resembling 
seckely  and  yet  all  varying  from  one 
another.  Hitherto  botany  has  re^ 
garded  tlie  seed  as  created  for  the 
chief  purpose  of  distriimting  the  spe- 
cies or  individual. 

But  although  distribution  is  cer- 
tainly more  readily  effected  in  this 
than  any  other  way,  we  have  seen 
that  it  is  not  the  edi^ential  difference. 
The  production  of  variety,  thus  se- 
curing identity,  is  the  leading  office 
of  the  seed. 

No  doubt  the  close  reasoner  wiU 
stop  U8  here.  A  tree  can  reproduce 
itself  by  buds  and  cuttings  where 
identity  is  not  necessary.  I f  variation 
is  to  provide  for  identity,  what  is  the 
use  of  identity  to  it?  This  is  a 
c^se  of  twilight^  before  referred  to. 
We  suppose  we  are  on  the  boundary 
here  of  a  transition.  All  we  can  posi- 
tively know  is,  that  seed  is  not  essen- 
tial to  reproduction,  and  that  with 
the  introduction  of  seed-variation 
dates  its  rigorous  origin.  We  can 
further  see,  that,  in  the  higher  organ- 
isms without  variation,  identity,  so  far 
as  mutual  recognition  is  concerned, 
could  not  exist. 

It  is  a  self-evident  proposition,  that 
the  first  leading  principle  of  all  nature 
is  the  effort  for  exUtence  ;  and,  as  all 
organic  beings  can  exist  for  only  a 
limited  time,  the  second  grand  object 
of  its  care  will  be  reproduction^ 
There  can  be  little  doubt  but  that 
every  action  of  every  living  thing, 
and  indeed  the  form  of  every  living 
thing,  is  in  some  degree  connected, 
more  or  less  remotely,  with  one  or 
the  other  of  these  grand  objects  of 
Nature.     W^oi  course,  have  our  own 


I 


172 


motives  for  what  we  do;  and  every 
animal  is  impelled  in  its  conduct 
by  some  idea  of  pleasure  or  necessity. 
Plants  we  regard  as  unconscious,  and 
probably  they  are;  but  they  all  act 
by  laws  tending  to  their  own  good  in 
the  same  way  as  animated  beings  do. 
We  do  not  stop  to  think  of  Nature  as 
a  whole.  The  individual  seems  rather 
a  world  unto  himself,  yet  behind  him 
and  behind  all  is  the  one  great  idea, 
nature  ;  and  this  Nature  only  caring 
for  its  one  self,  —  its  self-existence, 
and  continued  reproduction.  The 
priociple  of  variation  is  only  secon- 
dary, and  subsennent  to  the  other 
two  prior  and  gn?ater  aims. 

There  can  be  no  doubt  that  Natnre 
will  throw  around  the  great  repro- 
ductive principle  a  great«b'r  measure 
of  protection  than  she  will  around 
the  mere  incidents  thereof.  Thus  if 
sustenani-e  failed  to  carry  along  varia- 
tion and  reprfHluction  together,  she 
would  let  the  first  go.  In  this  event, 
all  that  appertains  to  the  division 
into  sexes  of  the  present  order  of 
things  would  disappear;  and  only 
those  lower  orders  would  exist  which 
can  extend  themselves  without  it 
And  this  is  all  in  accordance  with 
what  embryologists  tell  us :  that  with 
the  ftiilure  of  nutrition,  the  last  or- 
gaus  in  the  Uijual  order  of  atructuro 
are  the  first  to  die  away. 

It  would  hardly  be  correct  to  call 
the  reproductive  principle  in  Nature 
the  female  principle  \  and  yet  when 
Nature  has  advanced  so  far  in  the 
plant  or  the  animal  as  to  c;il]  for  a 
division  into  sexes,  it  will  hardly  be 
denied  that  the  female  is  in  more  iu- 
tipate  communion  with  this  leading 
object  than  the  male.  The  female 
must  necessarily  be  the  most  favored 
of  Nature.  At  the  commencement 
of  the  division  the  femalo  will  be 
lirst  provided  for  j  and  in   the  great 


Sexual  Science. 


diS 
1  piq 


struggle  for  life,  all 
being  equal,  the  chances 
largely  in  her  favor.  In  pli 
division  into  se:f**8  is  not  ma^ 
ent  nntil  the  dowt?nug 
Some  are  hermaphrod 
they  have  stamens  and  pi 
same  flowers.  Others  are  ^ 
or  have  the  mak^  fluwer.^  «ii 
one  plant,  and  the  females  on 
But  it  is  seldom  knowi^  < 
flowering,  which  is  the  male 
which  is  the  female.  Still  t| 
liar  sexual  principie  in  some  i 
doubt,  pervades  the  whole  pit 
exists  long  anterior  to  floirefl 
a  male  or  female  plant  onoi 
will  generally  always  rem^ 
Cuttings  taken  from  either 
pretty  sure  to  reproduce  tlj 
sexual  flowers  again,  thot^ 
always;  for  the  female  silH 
will  not  un  frequently  pu^ 
branches  with  male  tlowei 
as  a  general  thing,  sex  is  D( 
mined  in  plants  until  near 
ing  time ;  aud  is,  as  has 
never  known  until  the  flowi 
actually  upenecL  In  thosi 
which  bear  male  and  fe 
separate  on  the  same  pi 
seen  that  the  male  flowdl 
ptiar  on  the  weakest  brani 
branchlets.  Tiiis  is  best  iU^ 
by  a  pine  or  spruce  tree.  Thij 
flower  is  that  which  ultimal| 
comes  the  pine-cone.  Th| 
flowers  gather  in  small  clusti 
are  thosa  which  produce  tlj 
(poUen)  in  early  spring, 
flowers  or  cones  only 
ends  of  the  healthiest 
the  true  grows,  of  coui'se  the  b 
now  at  the  end  in  time  beo 
interior,  and  are  then  shiuied  I 
which  go  beyond  them.  | 
always  tends  to  lessen  the 
of  a  growing   branch ;   and 


branSI 


Sexual  Science. 


173 


I  pQsitiofi  ] 


brmodt«9  once   strong   and 

iboudft  tiowei^,    as   soon   &s 

^ptftnUlj   weakened    by  shade 

Ij  mftit  oneaw     Au  inj^peetioQ 

'  f^a^tpse  io  spring  will  show, 

igli  male  dow'ers  are  some^ 

ne  cl  iJie  Imm8  of  the  shoots 

Imale  fioweis^  wt^ak  shoots 

'  may  tblug  but  male  oue^. 

b«  Ibund  the  ease  io    all 

'  a  nioiMBciotts  cHarai^ter.     In 

ambrosia,  or  ragweed* 

flomra  are  ou   a  sort  of 

,  lialMead*tooking,  raceme ; 

femalea  are  situated  in  the 

iao  for  reeetYtn$;  the  highest 

of  ooiJitioa    the    plant    can 

Thofle  who  lia^e  examined 

in  plants,  see  the  truth 

I  in  th^^  regetabla  world, 

tore «  highest  efforts   in    the 

of  the  sexes  are  mrariabl/ 

tale  line.^ 

mme  f^dt»  appear  to  us  in  the 

wodd.      In    the    very    fir^t 

with  life  the  male«  -get  the 

r  it.      The  vast  majority  of 

dlililftMt  who  die   under  five 

are    m^les.       As   the 

maturity,  the  terrible 

tli#  female  system  begins, 

Dbcrra  of  males  and  fe- 

iiioarly   equalize.      The 

of  oiitntion  over  and  above 

|«irMt  In  sustain  life  passes  in 

to   brain   and   mu^^cle,   to 

[fbyikal  utrength  and  intellec- 

Ity;    but   in  the  female^  to 

outritiire  power  for  the  sup- 

aoaither  human  being.     Man 

Ely  ttton^f^t  than  woman; 

tMett^  T  m  immedi- 

Btnliou  T,  he  is  her 

But  in  ffUality^  if  by  that 

V  40%ji\*  of  till*  amtter,  m^  i^pore 
r  »9  th«  i^hX*tn  unit  Troy  ProofrMlliii* 
I  Ai*Ktitt^ou  f.tr  Ui*  Ai|Vftii<<4M]K<iit  «f 
I  la  Wm^  ¥l  Vhiim,.  AemX*  Ktik  Scl«ticea, 


we  mrty  understand  the  ability  to  en- 
dure circum'Jitaneos  tending  to  de- 
stroy life,  lie  is  below  her.  Not  only 
can  he  not  endure  as  much  during 
the  first  five  years  of  his  life,  but  as 
an  adult  he  sinks  un«ier  pain  that  a 
woman  would  hardly  faint  with.  Any 
of  ns  can  liok  around  and  see  women 
with  perhaps  half  a  dozen  young 
children  which  she  must  lo«>k  after, 
a  continual  series  of  routine,  monoto- 
nous housework  which  she  must  at- 
tend to,  now  roasting  at  the  ovou^ 
steaming  over  the  wash-tub,  or  freest- 
ing  at  the  clothes-line,  and  contin- 
ually with  the  worry  of  crying  chil- 
dren ringing  in  her  ears ;  and  all 
this  for  years  and  years,  with  ailing 
infants  and  sick  older  children,  and 
perhaps  even  a  male  sf>eciraen  of  an 
older  cast  to  whom  she  is  expected  to 
be  a  "  help-mate  "  besides  all  this  j 
altogether  for  months  and  months 
giving  her  but  three  or  four  hours  of 
sound  sleep  per  night.  Where  is  the 
man  that  could  endure  it  ?  A  year 
of  such  a  life  would  kill  the  strongest 
of  us.  We  find  the  same  law  of  vital 
endurance  outside  of  man.  C Rivalry 
oflScers  in  the  late  war  found  out  the 
wisdom  of  selecting  mares  for  ardu- 
ous services ;  and  we  all  know  what 
a  miserably  dull  animal  the  uusexed 
ox  becomes.  This  branch  of  our 
topic  need  not  be  farther  pursued. 
It  has  been  shown  that  natumlly 
the  repro<luctive  principle  should  be 
endowed  with  the  highest  attributes 
of  vitality,  and  the  few  instances 
cited  will  show  its  bearing  in  the 
world  of  facts. 

And  now  why  is  this  intellectual 
superiority  and  greater  muscular 
strength  given  to  man?  If  woman 
has  greater  endurance,  and  greater 
traits  of  general  vitality,  why  not 
excel  in  all  points  ?  It  is  simply 
because  he  is  to  use   these   for  the 


174 


Sexual  Science. 


bi?ne6t  of  tlio  female.  In  the  wild 
state  in  which  raau  first  fauod  him- 
eelf,  it  would  be  imptissible  for  the 
woman  with  her  young  child  to  de- 
fend herstOf  from  tht?  contiijual  ele- 
n>fnt6  of  warfare  then  everywhere 
ab^ut  Wild  animnb  would  goon  eud 
the  whole  human  race.  Moreover, 
she  could  not  leave  her  young  at 
homo  to  hunt  for  fcxxl  Man  thus 
appears  as  an  essential  aid  to  Nature'* 
great  reproductive  principle.  He  is 
the  ruler,  the  planner,  the  protector, 
but  not  for  hia  own  sake,  but  all  in 
the  cause  of  a  greater  and  mc^re  be- 
lovf*d  power  in  the  economy  of  Nature, 

In  the  animals  below  man,  we  find 
pretty  much  the  same  law  to  prevail : 
that  the  male  animal  is  physically 
and  intellectuaUy  the  superior  only 
in  proportion  to  the  wealcne»B  or 
iucaj>acity  of  the  female  or  the  proge- 
^y  to  take  care  of  themselves  at 
curtain  periotb  of  their  existence. 
In  many  birds,  where  the  young  id 
difficult  to  rear,  either  tlie  male  is 
much  the  superior  of  the  female,  or 
else  monogamy  prevails.  In  tlie  pi- 
geon, fur  instance,  and  similar  birds, 
where  the  young  require  constant 
attention  for  some  time,  both  male 
and  female  seem  nearly  balanced  in 
qualities.  In  the  barn-door  fowl, 
where  the  young  can  take  more  care 
of  themselves,  polygamy  prevails. 
The  younjr  of  the  duck  can  take  care 
q{  themselves  also;  hut  here,  aitliough 
^e  do  not  find  strict  monogamy,  we 
find  the  female  and  male  birds  much 
more  ei]Ually  matched  than  they  are 
in  the  case  of  the  barn-fowL 

When  we  come  to  fishes,  we  find 
no  difference  apparently  in  the  phy.«%- 
ical  or  intellectual  capacity  of  male  or 
female.  Tiie  young  take  absolute 
^re  of  tliemselves,  and  the  mother 
aires  no  protection.  Questions  of 
tiv6  strength  of  the  sexes,  or  of 


^^re 


monogamy  or  polygixmy  in 
are     therefore    of     no    cons^ 
Both  have  to  take  care  of  tbt* 
both    have     equally   to    fight 
enemies  for  their  own    pn^ 
both  have   an    exliaustive  si 
their   vital    functions    at 
time,  and  hence  they  are  about 
ly  balanced  in  every  way. 

It  is  curious  to  observe  hon 
the   male   disiiappears  from  the 
when    he   can  in    no  way   —•^- 
great   female    cause.      Iv 
sooner  does  the  pollen  from  Uie 
mens   fertilize  the   plntils  thaa 
drop  away;  while  in  somo 
pine  for  instance,  the  femal* 
continue  alive  for  a  couple  of 
afterwards.      In   the  hemp   and 
spinach    the  whole  male    pLaui 
some  weeks  before   the  femaW 
In  some  sptdeis  the  female  d^^ 
the  male  before  she  proceeds  to 
her  eggs,  and  when  ehe   lias  no 
ther  desire    for   his   companion 
and  a  large  number  of  male  insect 
immediately  on  the  exercise  of 
special    functions.      The  fema 
to  deposit   their  eggs  or  1 
young.     It  is  clearly  to  b' 
it  is  necessary  they  should  hu 
extra  power.     The   extra  vit^ 
given  them   for  this   purpose 
the  simple  fact  remains,  that  tt..   !t 
male  possesses  greater  vitality  tlutf 
the  male,  J 

From  these  and  similar  con^^ '^ 
tions,  which  those  who  wish  t^ 
the   subject   further   can    pursuf  Iq 
themselves,    we    may   conclude     th^ 
woman  worship  is  not  a  mere  ] 
iaucy,  but  baa  its  seat  deep  d  -^ 
the   heart   of    Nature.      When 
youth  Eisserts  his   beloveti  to    ' 
queen,  swears  etermd   allegian 
vows  forever  to  be  worthy  of 
ser?e    her,     he    is    really    fuitv 
but  the  dictates  of  Nature^  who 


Sexual  Science. 


175 


female  as  ardently  as  he 
le  is  undoubtedly  the  most 
knd  in  elementary  constitu- 
iSkst,  if  not  in  actual  form, 
at  a  place  in  nature  long  an- 
;he  origin  of  man  in  the  sex- 
of  this  term.  For  theologi- 
oees  she  may  have  been 
:  the  rib  of  Adam ;  for  Mo- 
n  or  Mormon  tises  she  may 
le  mere  slave  and  creature 
without  even  a  soul  to  be 
cept  through  his  sovereign 
>leasure ;  but  the  religion  of 
tmands  rather  the  sacrifice 
er  sex  to  her  eternal  law. 

not  be  difficult  to  apply 
[iciples  to  the  great  woman 
of  the  day.  Man  is  the 
ing,  working  force ;  all  that 
9  to  providing  or  protecting 
»  in  nature.  The  gun,  the 
he  ship,  the  sword,  —  the 
of  force  whatever  they  be, 
allot  which  is  to  direct  and 
at  force,  —  all  these  are  the 
prerogatives  of  man.  At 
time  these  laws  and  forces 
used  for  the  interests  of  wo- 
1  where  they  are  not,  man 
ultilling  the  purposes  for 
was  created. 

lis  brings  us  again  to  our 
oint-  Science  will  not  solve 
-actieal  problem,  because 
absolute  laws ;  while  the 
kture  run  into  one  another. 
ral  thing,  it  is  the  male  bird 
!S  the  singing  and  the  fe- 
latching;  but  there  be  hens 
w,  and  birds  of   the  male 


persuasion  which  believe  it  to  be  a  sol- 
emn duty  to  sit  on  eggs,  and  take  the 
young  under  their  protecting  wings. 
These  we  can  again  compare  to  the 
twilight  reasoning.  One  may  assert 
it  night,  another  that  it  is  day  ;  one 
that  ijt  is  right  in  the  hen  to  crow, 
another  that  it  is  not,  —  these  bouHd- 
ary-line  questions  can  never  be  solved. 
But  the  main  question  as  to  the  nat- 
ural duties  and  responsibilities,  the 
relative  rights  and  wrongs,  of  the 
sexes,  these  seem  as  clear  as  day  and 
night ;  and,  when  clearly  perceived, 
ought  to  render  the  subject  of  general 
legislation  not  so  puzzling  a  question 
as  it  seems  to  so  many  of  us. 

In  a  special  way  there  will  always 
be  men  who  will  neglect  their  natural 
duties,  and  society  itself  may  at  times 
wander  so  far  from  the  main  purpose 
of  its  creation  that  its  members  may 
feel  totally  unable  to  perform  duties 
which  otherwise  it  would  be  their 
pleasure  to  do.  Women  left  without 
natural  protectors  must  take  on  them- 
selves the  duties  of  men  in  order  to 
live  at  all.  For  all  these  aberrations 
from  general  law,  special  arrange- 
ments must  be  made.  The  only  dan- 
ger to  society  is  when  it  takes  the  mi- 
nor for  the  major  proposition  ;  seeks  to 
adapt  laws  necessary  to  twilight,  to 
every  purpose  of  day  and  night ;  as- 
serts the  absolute  equality  of  the  sexes 
in  every  particular,  instead  of  proper- 
ly defining  the  main  rights  and  du- 
ties of  each,  and  endeavoring  as  far 
as  the  artificial  state  of  society  will 
permit  to  keep  each  sex  to  its  own 
natural  sphere. 


176  T(hMorrow. 

TO-MOREOW. 

BY  MBS.   MABY  B.   DODGB. 

To-morrow,  a  beautiful  day. 

Is  waiting  for  you  and  for  me; 
Bluest  skies  of  a  soft  shining  ray  • 
Are  impatient  the  shadows  to  flee. 
Why  care  if  the  landscape  be  sullen  and  gray  ? 
To-morrow  will  chase  all  the  cloud-racks  away. 

To-morrow,  you  say,  may  be  dull, 

With  the  leaden-hued  face  of  to-day. 
Wait :  its  morrow  with  measure  is  full 
Of  a  joy  never  spilled  by  delay. 
If  to-day  bom  of  yesterday  baffle  our  will, 
To-morrow,  to-morrow,  13  radiant  stilL 

To-morrow  is  mantled  in  white 

As  pure  as  the  soft-falling  snow, 
That  rounds  into  waves  of  delight, 
To  cover  Earth's  pitiful  woe. 
The  gale  may  be  sighing,  the  frost-king  astray. 
Yet  to-morrow  will  Sparkle  in  crystalline  spray. 

To-morrow  with  roses  is  crowned, 
A  tender-eyed  sylpli  o'  the  Mat 


Selfhood  and  Sacrifice. 


177 


To-morrow  is  regal  for  all, 

With  a  sceptre  of  love  in  her  hand : 
The  weary  but  wait  for  her  call, 
To  spring  to  the  full-fruited  land. 
O'er  the  span  of  to-day  we  may  tearfully  grope, 
Bat  the  arch  of  to-morrow  is  glowing  with  hope. 

Yes,  to-morrow,  a  beautiful  day, 
Is  waiting  for  you  and  for  me  ; 
Impatient  our  grief  to  allay, 

Our  sorrow- weighed  pinions  to  free. 
Why  reck  we  the  burden  that  presses  to-day  ? 
To-morrow,  to-morrow,  will  lift  it  away. 


SELFHOOD    AND    SACRIFICE. 


BT    ORYILLB  DEWET,   D.D. 


:  title  which  I  have  chosen  for 
lieoiirBe,  is  Selfhood  and  Sac- 

liy  purpose  is,  to  consider 
[ilaoe  these  principles  have  in 
i  cultore.  I  use  the  word,  self- 
rarher  than  self-regard  or  self- 
st.  because  I  wish  to  go  back  to 
iginai  principle  —  selfhood,  ac- 
tg  to  the  analog}-  of  our  lan- 
j  describing  the  simple  and 
n/t  condition  in  which  self  ex- 
it manhood  does  that  of  man, 
idhood,  that  of  a  child.  And  I 
■crioce,  rather  than  self-sacri- 
konnor  the  true  principle  does 
Kpire  the  sacrifice  of  our  high- 
^  hat  only  of  that  which  un- 
Ij  hinders  outflow  from  self 
•  mbject  of  culture  has  been 
[^  be£[>re  the  public  of  late,  by 

Huxley,  and  Matthew  Arnold, 
Ic  Shairp.  I  do  not  propose  to 
riBto  the  questions  which  have 
fed  their  able  pens,  but  to  go 
Id  dKMe  primary  and  foundation 
ipln^  which  I  have  proposed  to 
itf — the  <xie  of  which  is  the 
l^aod  tiha  othei^  the  ciicomfer- 


ence  of  human  culture,  —  Selfhood 
and  Sacrifice. 

It  is  the  object  of  this  course  of 
lectures,  in  part  at  least  as  I  under- 
stand it,  to  discuss  this  subject  — 
to  discuss,  i.e.  the  principles  and 
grounds,  on  which  right  reason  and 
rational  Christianity  propose  to  build 
up  a  good  and  exalted  character. 
Now  with  regard  to  what  Christian- 
ity teaches,  has  it  never  occurred  to 
you,  or  has  it  never  seemed  to  you,  in 
reading  the  Grospels,  that  they  ap- 
peal to  self-interest,  to  the  desire  to 
be  saved,  in  a  way  that  is  at  variance 
with  the  loftiest  motives  ?  But  it  is 
appealed  to,  and  therefore  is,  in  some 
sense,  sanctioned.  And  yet,  as  if 
this  self-interest  were  something 
wrong,  the  prevalence  of  it  in  the 
world,  the  world's  selfishness  in  other 
words,  is  represented  by  many 
preachers,  as  if  it  were  the  sum  of 
all  wickedness,  the  proof  indeed,  of 
total  depravity.  Here  then,  it  seems 
to  me,  whether  we  look  at  Christian- 
ity or  at  the  teachings  of  the  pulpit, 
.  there  is  urgent  need  of  discriminatioiL 


178 


Selfhood  and  Sacrifice. 


And  there  is  anolber  aspect  of  the 
fame  subject,  which  seems  to  reqiiire 
attention  ;  and  that  is  what  is  calied, 
individualism  —  the  mentally  living, 
if  not  for,  yet  in  and  out  of  our- 
selves; claiming  to  find  all  the 
apriDga  and  forces  of  faith  and  cul- 
ture within  ourselves,  to  the  exclu- 
sion of  the  proper  influence  of  so- 
ciety, of  Christianity,  of  the  whole 
great  realm  of  the  past,  by  which  we 
have  been  trained  and  formed ;  indi- 
vidualism^ which  says,  "  I  belong  to 
myself,  and  to  nobody  else,  and  do 
not  choose  to  be  brouirht  or  organ- 
ized into  any  system  of  faith  or  ac- 
tion with  anybody  else.*'  This, 
indeed,  is  an  extreme  to  which »  per- 
haps, hut  few  minds  go  ;  hut  there  is 
a  tendency  of  this  kind,  which  needs 
to  be  looked  into* 

Kow  there  is  a  way  of  thinking,  in 
matters  of  practical  expediency,  to 
which  I  confess  that  I  am  commit- 
ted by  my  life-tong  reflections  ;  and 
which  has  always  prevented  me  from 
going  to  the  extreme  with  any  party, 
whether  in  reforms,  in  politics,  in  re- 
ligious systems,  or  in  any  thing  else  ; 
and  that  is,  to  look  to  the  mean  in 
things;  to  look  upon  human  nature 
and  human  culture,  as  held  in  the 
balance  between  opposing  principles. 
With  this  view,  I  shall  first  under- 
take to  show  that  the  principle  of 
flelf-regani,  or  of  individual  ism,  is 
rigiit  and  lawful  —  is  indeed,  an  es- 
sential principle  of  culture. 

There  is  a  remarkable  passage  in 
theold  "  Theologia  German ica,'*  which 
hits,  I  think,  the  very  point  in  this 
matter  of  self-regard.  Speaking  of 
its  highest  man,  it  says,  **  All  thought 
of  self,  all  self-seeking,  self-will,  and 
what  cometh  thereof,  must  be  utterly 
lost,  surrendered  and  given  over  to 
(rod,  e^Ecept  if%  90  far  as  they  are 
nece$$ary  to  make    up    a   person.^^ 


This  personal ity,  thia  etand-i 
must  hold  to,  go  where  we 

But  let   me  state   more 
what  it  is,  that  is  here  cone 
must  be  maintained; 
important  to  defend  and  ji 
call  it  selfhood;  and  tlie  won 
ceive,  is  philosophically  ne 
meet  the  case.     Because  it  u 
ciple,   that   gt^es   behind  seli 
and  of  wliich  selfishness  is  the] 
and    abuse.      Selfishness 
overreaches,  circumvents^ 
hood  is  simpler.     It  Is  the  init 
instantaneous,  uncalculating 
our  faculties,  to  preserve,  proti 
help  ourselves,     Seltishnes* 
to  take   advantage   of  othe 
hood  only  to  take  care  of  iti 
is  not,  as  a  principle  of  our  1 
depraved  instinct;  animali*  jw 
It  is  not  moral,  or  immoral,  1 
ply  unmoral.     It  is  a  sirop 
ne<!e8<?ary  to  our  self-preserri 
onr  individuality,  to  our  pec 
The  highest  moral  natures 
well  as  the  lowest     The  mi 
gives  up  every  thing  eUe,  i 
integrity  fast  and  dear     It  ta| 
of  the  great  Martyr,   that, ' 
joy    that    was   set    before 
eudured    the    cross,    despii 
shame/'     No  being    that  m 
idiot,  can  be  dive^sted  of  all 
regard   for   himself.     And 
does  necessity  enforce,  but  jil 
fends  the  principle.     If  Imp 
a   good,    and   there    are 
amounts  of  it,  tlie  one  of 
mine,  and  the  other  my  neig 
may  in  strict  justice,  valti^ 
sire  my  own  as  mucU  aa 
love  him  more  than  my  own,  1 
yond  the  commandment      T^] 
worth    while    to    put     any 
strain  upon  the  bond  of  rir 
it  does  positive  harm. 

Yet  tliis  is  constantly  dow  ^ 


Sfifhood  and  Sacrijice. 


179 


Ttftue^  of  conscience,  and  of 

self-respect.      In  our  tbeo* 

altarcy  we   dcrnaud  of   our- 

wh«;i   u  impoftiiible,    what  ia 

fo«useir«%  what  rt^^iadlates  a 

▼cfj  nature  we  would  cul- 

I  We  demand  of  oarseives,  aud 

Umt  Chmtianity  demands 

eeriam  unattainable  perfec- 

|of  wha£  we  call  perfection,  — 

Ig  of  Ofirselres  out  of  sight, 

ption   into  the   love  of 

i  oieu,  qajte  beyond  our  reach : 

;  of  tliat  —  thinking  it  en- 

,  of  OUT  Sphere,  we  give  np 

imtioiial   endeaTor  to   be 

Wt!  make    the    highest 

ething  exceptional,  instead 

log  it  as  a  pri^e  for  us  alL 

that  some  few  have  at- 

si  Jeaus  did,  and  th^  a 

d^oominated  saints,  hare 

bii&f  but    that    for    the 

run  of   men^  this  is  all  out 

The    fact   ia,    that 

iqr  is  regarded  by  many,  as 

M  secret  of  the  initiated^ 

►  ri^oo  or  hard  exaction  — 

ktatiocuil  culture.     Listen  to 

lioo  of  the  mart  or  the 

,  y<m  will  find  that  the 

M^n  law  IS  but  a  mocking 

I  tketr  ey«s*     *^  Giving  to  hi  in 

«ad  from  him  that  would 

ling   not   away :  and    to 

k«a  fhwn  us   our  coat,  giv- 

also;  and  tnniing   the 

to  the  amiter;"  —  what 

lA(qf  mmft  but   extravagance 

I  f      As  if  they  did  not 

tberd  if  such  a  figure  of 

^  k jperbole :  and  that  it  was 

al«  m  a  society  where 

raad  th^  weak  were  trodden 

,  lor  tliegnsat^at  heart  that 

to  floor  out   itself  in 

§ar  sjmpathj,  commtsera- 

Uadness.     But    the  same 


Ma6t<*r  said,  **  It  is  profitable  for  thee 
—  it  is  better  for  thee,"  to  have  some 
of  thy  pleasures  cut  oflf — thine  of- 
fending hand  or  eye ;  mther  Ma/,  than 
to  have  thy  whole  being  whelmed  io 
misery. 

It  is  really  ne^^easary  in  this  matter, 
not  only  to  vindicate  Christianity  as 
a  reasonable  religion^  but  to  vindicate 
human  natare  to  itself;  to  save  it 
from  the  abjectness  of  feeling  that  the 
necessity  of  self-help  is  an  ignoble 
necessity.  Men  say,  **  Yes,  we  are  all 
selfish,  we  are  all  bail;  "and  they 
sink  into  discouragement  or  apathy, 
under  that  view. 

The  conditions  of  true  culture  are 
attracting  increased  attention  at  the 
present  time;  and  it  is  natural  that  they 
should,  when  men's  min<ls  are  getting 
rid  of  theologic  definitions  and  as- 
sumptions, and  are  coming  to  take 
broad  and  manly  views  of  the  subject. 
I  am  endeavoring  to  make  my  humble 
contribution  to  it ;  and  with  this  view, 
to  show,  in  the  first  place,  what  p:irt 
our  very  selfhoofU  both  of  right  and 
of  necessity,  ha^s  in  it. 

This  principle  lies  in  the  very  roots 
of  our  being ;  and  it  is  developed  ear- 
liest in  our  nature.  Before  the  love 
of  right,  of  virtue,  of  truth,  appears 
this  self-regard.  Disinterestedness 
is  of  later  growth.  Infancy  comes 
into  the  world  like  a  royal  heir,  and 
takes  possession,  as  if  the  world  were 
ma<le  for  itself  alone.  Itself  is  all 
it  knows ;  it  will  by  and  by,  take  a 
wider  range.  There  is  a  natural 
process  of  improvement  in  the  very 
progress  of  life.  **  You  will  get  bet- 
ter," says  a  dramatic  satirist,'  **  as  you 
get  older;  all  men  do.  They  are 
worst  in  childlio<jd,  improve  in  man- 
hood, and  get  ready,  in  old  age,  for 
another  world.  Youth  with  its 
beauty  and   grace,  would   seem    be- 

1  firownlof :  A  fioul'*  Tragedy :  p.  SSOi, 


ISO 


Selfhood  and  Sacrifice. 


stowed  on  us,  for  some  such  masoiiy  &fl 
to  make  us  partly  endurable^  till  we 
have  time  to  become  80  of  ourselves, 
without  their  aid,  when  they  leave 
us.  The  sweetest  child  we  all  smile 
on,  for  his  pleasant  want  of  the  whole 
world  to  break  up,  or  suck  in  his 
inouth,  seeing  no  other  good  in  it  — 
wouiti  be  roughly  bandied  by  that 
world's  iuhabituhts^  if  he  retained 
those  an gelio,  infantine  desireis,  when 
be  has  grown  six  feet  high,  black  and 
bear<Iod  ;  but  little  by  little,  he  sees 
fit  to  forego  claim  after  claim  on  tlie 
world,  puts  up  with  a  less  and  lesa 
simre  of  its  good  as  his  proper  por- 
tion and  when  the  octogenarian  asks 
barely  for  a  sup  of  gruel  or  a  fire  of 
dry  sticks,  and  thanks  you  as  for  his 
full  allowance  and  right  in  the  com- 
mon ^ooA  of  life,  —  hoping  nobody 
will  murder  him  —  he  who  began  by 
asking  and  expecting  the  whole  world 
to  bow  down  in  worship  to  hira  — 
why,  I  say,  he  is  advanced  far  on- 
ward, very  fai*,  nearly  out  ot  sight*' 

This  advancement,  thus  springing 
out  of  the  very  experience  of  life,  I 
am  yet  to  consider,  and  have  it  most 
at  heart  to  consider.  It  is  of  such 
priceless  worth,  it  so  embraces  all 
that  is  noble  in  humanity,  that  the 
importance  of  the  opposite  principle, 
is  liable  to  be  Cjuite  overlooked. 
8eitisbnes3,  which  is  the  excess  of  a 
just  self-regard,  is  the  one  form  of 
all  evil  in  the  world.  The  world  cries 
out  upon  it,  and  heaps  upon  it  every 
epithet,  exfiressive  of  meanness,  base- 
ne!i«s  and  guilt  And  let  it  bear  the 
branding  scorn  ;  but  lot  us  not  fail  to 
see,  though  selfishness  be  the  satirist's 
mark^  and  the  philosopher's  reproach, 
and  the  theologian's  argument,  the 
real  nature  and  value  of  the  principle, 
from  which  it  proceeds. 

Selfhood  I  have  preferred  to  call 
it ;  self-love,  be  it,  if  you  pleaae.     It 


ijs  that,  which  satire 
cism  h*ve  mtsconstr 
have  said  that    Iqvg   oI; 
friendst  of  country,  of 

is  but  self-love.  The 
from  tliat  primal  and 
participation  which  on 
every  thing  that  we  enj 
ailore.  This  magnificed 
emphasize  it,  because  all 
thought  to  be  concentr 
— this  mysterious  and  i 
thl;i  that  one  means,  wh^ 

—  we  may  utter,  but  a 
plain,  nor  fully  express  ii 
great  men  in  the  worlil 
■re  of  far  more  importati| 

—  statesmen,  commantll 
but  I —  no  being  can  fei 
interest  in  his  individual 
in  mine ;  no  being  ca]| 
importance  to  himself  th 
myself;  the  very  poleJ 
and  being  turn  upon  i 
line  ;  that  simple  nnity, 
in  figures,  swelU  to  ind^ 
cation;  that  one  letter^ 
stroke  of  pen  or  type,  oj 
and  complicated,  till  it  wj 
tory  of  the  world.  **  I  1 
fore  I  am/'  said  the  phtH 
the  bare  utterance  of 
yields  a  vaster  inference,! 
ever  knew  what  that  word 
is  some  time  before  the| 
learns  to  say,  I. 
Ellen  wantd  this 
here  or  there."  Wlu 
the  wreck  of  this 
TTictim  loses  himself* 
ally  insane,  the  pr 
returns  to  reason 
to  himself. 

"A  man's  self," 
"  must  always  bo  seriou 
der  whatever  mask  or  dii 
form  he  presents  it  to 
Yes,  though  it  woroi 


It  saj 

or  thj 

71u^ 

elf^ 


Selfhood  and  Sacrifice. 


181 


■f  Ibol  mlmiMt;    nor  could 

deplorable  or  desper- 

Ibr  A  Homao  liein^,  than 

bioi^elf  nothing,  or  notb- 

nonbj  only  to  b«  the 

I  acora  aod  contempt 

ittl«r  min,  every  man  is 

bj  thM^  tnyvterious  and  mo- 

lity  tbat  dweUs  within 

he  little  in  Campari* 

Qerml  mass  of  inteiv 

eom^mximn  vrith  king- 

II  ooniparisoQ  with  the 

BUT  of    thrones    and 

,  oocupariiiOQ  with  the 

t6U$  ivund  the   sun^ 

^  mUljonj  of  such ;    but  wa 

rgneai  tn  ^e  sense  of  in- 

Ctlijr.      This  fi  wells  beyond 

JeoTH,  empires,  worlds, 

I  eternity. 

»t]ier  element  in   this 

[  fioai«dared,  beddes  its 

,  And  that  is  free 

oral,  bat  indi^ 

iinagioe   a    rational 

I  ^heed  lA  this  world,  i^^- 

He  can  chooee  neither 

giglit.      He   has   a   con- 

;  w>  firwdom  ;  no  power  to 

'  tliiag;     It  i^  I  think,  an 

and  tnipoasible  kind  of 

tUM^ne    it     Evils, 

pffeas    against 

"mJ  lie  can  do  nothing; 

will  to  resist     Could 

!iditkm  more  horrible  ? 

i  ^  mM&t  and  happier  be- 

tta  to.     Fre«  will 

Loo  porpoeeHa  fight  the 

inat  eviL     He  could 

'lie  coqU  not  will     He 

tlie  right,  without 

lo  cboo#e  the  wrong;  for 

palli  wicliout   being  at 

the  other,  would  be  no 

j  F»ee  will  »  to  fight  the 

k  ft  i^iicioaft  preiogtttive. 


And  man,  I  belieire,  is  oat  of  all  pro- 
portion, happier,  with  this  power,  all 
its  aberrations  included^  than  he  would 
be  without  it  I  am  glad  for  my  part, 
that  I  am  not  passing  througli  this 
world;  like  a  car  on  a  railroad,  or 
turning  round  like  a  wheel  in  a  mill ; 
that  I  can  go,  this  way  or  tha^  take 
one  path  or  another;  that  I  can  read, 
or  write,  or  study,  or  labor,  or  do  bus- 
iness ;  and  that  when  the  great  trial* 
hour,  between  right  and  wrong,  comes, 
though  I  may  choose  the  wrong,  yet 
that  I  can  choose  the  right  What 
better  would  there  be  for  me  than 
this  —  what  better  constitution  of  a 
rational  nature  t  I  know  of  no  bet- 
ter possible. 

Selfhood,  then  —  this  interest  in 
ourselv^es,  being  seen  to  be  right,  and 
the  play  of  free  will  which  is  a  part 
of  it,  desirable ;  let  us  turn  finally  to 
the  useful  working  of  the  principle. 
You  may  have  said  in  listeniug  to 
me  thus  far —  **  What  need  of  ins^ist- 
ing  so  much  upon  self-regiird,  which 
we  all  perfectly  well  understand  ?  " 
I  doubt  whether  it  is  so  well  under* 
stood ;  and  this  must  be  my  apology. 
We  have  seen  that  the  principle  is  na- 
tive and  necessary  to  us ;  let  us  look  a 
moment^  at  its  utility^ 

I  am  put  in  charge  of  myself — of  my 
life,  Erst  of  alL  So  strong  is  the  im- 
pulse to  keep  and  defend  it,  that  self- 
preservation  has  been  called  the  Erst 
law  of  our  being.  But  that  argues 
an  antecedent  fact  —  self-appreciii- 
tion.  Why  preserve  that  which  we 
value  not?  We  defend  ourself,  be- 
cause we  prisBfi  ourself.  We  defend  our 
life,  with  the  instant  rush  of  all  our 
faculties  to  the  rescue.  **  Very  self- 
ish," one  may  say ;  "  And  why  doe« 
a  man  care  so  much  for  himself;  he 
isn't  worth  it"  He  can't  help  it 
He  obeys  the  primal  bond;  he  is  a 
law  to  himselt     Is  it  not  well  ?  Man's 


182 


Selfhood  and  Sacrifice, 


life  would  perish  io  a  thoasand  ways^ 
if  he  did  not  thus  care  for  it.  The 
great)  imirersal  and  most  effectiire 
guardianship  over  human  life  every- 
where, is  —  not  government  nor  law, 
not  guns  nor  hattlements,  not  sympa- 
thy, not  society  —  but  thia  self-care. 

I  am  put  in  charge  of  my  own 
comfort,  of  my  Bustenance.  I  must 
provide  for  it.  Ajid  to  provide  for  it, 
I  must  have  property  —  house,  land, 
stores,  means ^ — something  that  must 
be  my  owo,  and  not  anotlierd.  If  I 
were  an  animal,  I  might  find  food 
and  shelter  in  the  common  store- 
house of  nature's  bounty.  But  I  have 
other  wants ;  if  I  have  no  provision 
for  them  that  is  my  own ;  if  some 
godless  International  League,  or 
Agrarian  Law,  could  break  down 
all  the  ri(»lit^  of  property,  there  would 
be  Jiti  end  to  inilustry,  to  order,  to 
ooiutort,  and  eventually  to  life  itself. 
Whatever  evils,  whatever  monstrous 
Crimea  come  of  the  love  of  gain,  its 
^xtiiiftiou  would  be  infinitely  worse. 

I  am  put  in  charge  of  my  good 
nam<%  my  place  among  men.  I  must 
regard  it.  I  am  sinking  to  reckless- 
nesM  ahout  virtue  if  I  cease  to  value 
ftj^prohalion.  Even  the  martyr,  look- 
in|(  to  God  alone,  seeks  approval. 
And  giiod  men's  approbation  is  the 
r«lleotioQ  of  that.  To  seek  honor 
from  men  at  the  expense  of  principle, 
it*  what  tlu5  Master  condemns  —  not 
iho  «le«iro  of  honor.  It  has  been 
maile  a  question  whether  the  love  of 
a|t|irol>ation  «*hould  be  appealed  to,  in 
•iihiUiU.  It  cannot  be  kept  out,  from 
thore,  nor  fruiii  anywhere  else.  If  it 
oouUl,  if  the  vast  network  of  social 
H)gar«U,  in  which  men  are  now  held, 
wi*ro  Uitn  asunderi  society  would  fall 
to  [lieeoa, 

Ftually,  I  am  put  in  charge  of  my 
virtui*  —  of  that  above  all.  And  that 
I  mutti  gtit  and  keep  far  myadf ;  no 


^.>n3el 


beJfl 
that  sel 


other  can  do  it  for  me. 
may  stit5tch  out  the  hand 
me  from  a  fatal  blow;  anotl 
endow  me  with  wealth  ;  anot 
give  me  the  praise  I  do  not  i 
but  DO  friendly  interFentioo,' 
of  gitlt,  no  flattery,  n* 
me  inward  truth  and 
solemn  point  in  human 
that  question  upon  whic 
hangs  —  shall  1  do  righ 
I  do  wrong? — is  shr»->ni 
secresy  and  silence  of  my  ow 
All  the  power  in  the  worlds  d 
for  me  the  thing  that  I  mus 
myself.  To  me,  to  me,  tfaft 
is  committed. 

Now  what  I  have 
this ;  it  is  well  that  that 
upon  which  so  much  is  derolvfi 
be  strong;  that  there  shoal 
apathy,    no    indifference,    up 
point;    that  if  ever  a    man 
away  into  recklessness,  into 
into  disgrace,  into  utter  moTi 
queney  and  lawlessness,  be  si 
brought  to  a  stand,  and  bcoi 
again,  if  possible,  by  this  irn 
uncontrollable  regard   fotr  hi 
for  bis  own  well-being.     I  *«*j 
solve  every  thing  in  human  naf| 
the  desire  of  well  being.     I  d< 
that  the  love  of  life,  of  p: 
reputation,  still  less  of  virt 
same  as  the  love  of  happiu 
say  that  to  the  pursuit  of  all! 
man  is  urged,  driven,  almoei 
by  this  love  of  his  own   wel 
nay  more  to  the  pursuit  of  thi 
eventually,  find  that,  by  th«  m 
of  his  nature.  | 

Let  us  now  turn  to  the  ot! 
ciple  which    1   propose 
that  which  opens  the  w 
our  culture  — the  princi 
ries  us  out  of,  and  beyond 

It  has  been  no  part  of  m; 
in  discasBiug  the  principL 


Selfhood  and  Sacrifice, 


183 


m  thm  ]uiiider«fif<^  to  caltur^^  sod 
tBerwjw^  the 

it.    Tl  ,    utlj 

if  it  be  madt  to  appear, 
floitafe  ttid  happine^  are 
^  the  lyppodte  dif^ction.  But 
,  to  pQt  this  in  the  stroDg* 
ahouki  point  to  the  pain 
I  which  an^  expetieuctHl 
Ktaaeed  self^suiisciousiits^d.  It 
Ha  powerful  Argumeat  for  that 
Kt  of  8df,  which  I  am  about 
H  at  Selfy  if  it  h  a  neoe^a^aij 
»tti^  it  jret  liable  to  be  al- 
limr  waj,  A  morbid  anxiety 
poeitiDOf  our  credit  with 
good  or  lU  opinion  others 
'talents^  tastea  or  merits, 


I  misei^. 


iDclined  to 


amr  otber  form  of  haman 
See  a  company  of  [)en»0Q>^, 
liBad  wjih  music,  charmed  hy 
put,  trafsspurted  hy  some  heroic 
i  mi  befoci^  tbem ;  and  they  for> 
OBitelTBif  tli«ry  do  not  think^  how 
loky  liow  tbej  are  dressed^  what 
ttink  of  thenv  in  their  common 

tOflo  of  thi^,  I  beliere  it  wa«. 
1^  at  tLe  bottom  of  the  old  Budd- 
of  Nirwana —  i,  e,,  self- 
pR.  To^loMB  this  wearisome,  did- 
mii^  oeejaied  to  Gaotaina,  the 
ipoetle  of  Buddhism,  to  be  the 
pmwL  Ktrwana  has  been  taken 
in  absolute  annihilation.  I 
\  Mieve  the  Baddhists  meant 
far  to  me,  it  is  incredible,  that 
^mi  futctf  numbering  miliioos, 
bsve  eo  tiytally  given  up  the 
it  love  of  ^siatence,  and  desire 
MitolHy ;  and  Max  Muller  and 
BSte  bfvmgbt  that  construction 
Bodiibut  <n^edf  into  doubt. 
ilnaU  mar  g^  that  length,  Un- 
rfitaom  Whit*?,  tortured  in  body 
if  ooold  pay  that  he  desir«.*d 
of  liik  b^re  or  Lfr*.  after.     A 


German  naturalist  could  say, ''  Blessed 
be  the  death  hour  —  the  time  when  I 
shall  cea»e  to  bv/'  But  this  revolt 
against  self  and  ?eiy  self-existence, 
whether  ancient  or  modem,  I  advert 
to,  only  to  show  the  necessity  of 
going  out  &om  it,  in  order  io  build 
up  the  kingdom  of  God  within  us. 
It  is  notable ;  it  la  suggestive ;  but 
it  b  neither  healthy,  nor  true  to  hu- 
man nature.  Far  truer  is  that  admir- 
able little  poem  of  Darid  Wass*jn's, 
originally  entitled  ''Bugle  Notes,'* 
which  in  unfolding  the  blessing  and 
joy  of  existence,  touches^  I  think,  the 
deepest  and  divinest  sense  of  things. 

But  let  us  proceed  to  consider  the 
law  of  sacrifice  —  not  sacrifice  of  haj>- 
pinesa  nor  improvement^  but  the  find- 
ing of  both,  in  going  out  ^m  self,  to 
that  which  is  beyond  and  above  it 

A  man's  thought  starts  from  him- 
self; but  if  it  stopped  there,  he  would 
be  nothing.  All  philosophy,  scieneey 
knowletlge  presuppose  certain  original 
faculties  and  intuitions;  but  not  to 
cultivate  or  carry  them  out,  would 
leave  their  posse^isor  to  be  the  mere 
root  or  germ  of  a  man.  A  line  in  ge- 
ometry presupposes  a  point  \  but  un- 
less the  point  is  extended,  there  can 
be  no  geometry  ;  it  is  a  point  barren 
of  all  science,  of  all  culture. 

Every  intellectual  step  is  a  step  out 
of  one's  &el£  The  philosopher  who 
studies  hiviseif^  that  he  may  under- 
stand his  own  mind  and  nature,  is  but 
study  in  g  h  i  mself  object  i  vely ;  his  very 
self  then  lies  out  of  himself,  and  is  an 
abstraction  to  him.  And  the  matlie- 
matician,  the  astronomer,  the  natural- 
ist, the  poet,  the  artist,  eat^h  one  goes 
out  of  himself.  His  subject,  his  theo- 
rem, his  picture  it  is,  that  draws  him 
—  not  reward,  not  reputation.  Doubt- 
less Newton  or  Herschel,  when  he 
left  his  diagram  or  his  telesicoi^^e,  and 
seated  himaelf  in  the  bosom   of  bia 


184 


Selfhood  and  Sacrifice. 


familyi  might  say,  "  We  must  live ;  I 
must  have  iDcouie ;  liiiil  if  public  or 
private^  men  ofl'cr  U>  rtnmitn?nite  aiid 
^nstAtD  tat^  it  is  right  tlmt  they  should 
do  »o/'  But  the  roament  he  plunges 
into  deep  jtlnlobupljic  meditjitioii*  he 
forgtits  \%\\  that.  Natiii-e  ha^  more 
than  a  bridal  chann,  scieiiL't*  niori*  llian 
golden  troaaurrs,  truth  tnort'  than  jton- 
tifiral  authority,  to  its  votaries.  Not 
wooing,  but  worship,  is  found  at  its 
tihnnos  II nd  altars.  In  the  gniud  hie- 
rarchies of  science,  of  literiiturc,  of 
art,  there  i«  a  veritable  prit^sthood,  as 
pnre,  aa  nn worldly,  aa  can  be  found  in 
any  church.  It  i&  delightful  to  look 
upon  its  workt  ujKm  it«  ciUm  and  lov- 
ing enthusiasm*  The  natural it^t  brings 
under  his  microscope,  the  smallest  and 
most  unattractive  specimen  of  organ- 
ized matter,  aii<l  goes  into  ec^taniesover 
it,  that  might  seem  ridiculous  ;  but  no, 
this  is  a  piece  of  hohj  nature  —  a  link 
in  the  chain  of  it«  majestic  harmo- 
nies. 

And  so  every  intellectual  laborer, 
when  his  work  is  noblest,  forgets  him- 
self —  the  lawyer  in  his  case,  the 
preacher  in  his  sermon,  the  physician 
in  bis  patient.  Is  it  not  true  then,  and 
is  it  not  noteworthy,  that  all  the  in- 
tellectual tresksures  that  are  gathered 
to  form  the  noblest  humanity,  all  the 
intellectual  for<x^s  that  are  bearing  it 
onward,  come  of  self-forgetting? 

Equall}^  true  is  it  —  more  true  if  pos- 
sible, in  the  moral  field.  The  man 
who  is  revolving  around  himself,  mu^t 
move  in  a  very  small  circle.  Vanity, 
self-conceit,  thinking  much  of  one's  self, 
may  be  the  foible  of  s^une  able  and 
learned  men,  but  never  of  the  gwat- 
est  men :  because  the  witltT  is  the 
circle  of  a  man's  thought  ^t  knowl- 
edge, at  the  more  points  docs  he  see 
and  feel  his  limitations.  Vanity  is  al- 
ways professional,  never  philosophic^ 
It  beionga  to  a  narrowi  techuical^  nev- 


er to  the  largest, 
all  the  moral  forties  in 
strL»ngest,  divinest,  wheiij 
self.  Wh«in  the  piUai 
his  own  advanc4*inent, 
public  weal,  he  is  no  ma 
man,  but  a  mere  fwjliUciad 
the  reformer  cares  mun*  I 
opinion  than  for  the  imd  ^ 
the  people  will  not  rep 
him,  Thn  world  may  be  J 
but  it  will  have  hone^ 
it  permits  to  servt*  it. 

The  truth  is  that 
of  the  world,  is  built  ^ 
all   the   nuhleness 
in  that.      To  show  tl 
ces«ary  to  point  to  the 
and  spheres  of  action, 
widest  influence  upon  the  i 
and  welfare  of  mankind, 
be  fr>und  to  bear  that  mad 

Look,  lir^t,  at  the  pr 
ersof  the  world  —  th| 
professors,  school ma!?d 
In  returns  of  workliy  goo4 
vices  have  been  paid  let«8f  hi 
er  equal  ability  and  ai^coraj 
the  world.  Doubtless  thei 
exceptions;  some  Eng 
Iloman  prelates  have  i 
some  authors  and  ar 
a  modest  corapetenoe, , 
ing  it  now,  and  yet  i 
the  great  Ixxly  of  inteC 
has  been  poor.  The 
world,  has  been  carried  ool 
a1  sjicritice.  A  grand  j 
ore  —  authors,  artist 
fiTi'fessors,  heads  of 
been  thrtjugh  agtis,  card 
war  against  ignorance ;  bt 
pliul  i>r<:>cesslon  hiw  been  dl 
no  spoils  of  conquered  prfl 
come  to  its  crjfters;  no^cra^ 
has  invi'stjed  by  pomp 
lonely  watch-towei*8  tl 
have  burned;  but  to  wa 


4,1  iu«a 

i 

y  goo4 

les8(  hi 

aiTcoraj 

ess  the] 

kvelH| 
artifltl^ 

^4 

teiran 

instrq 

-ied  ool 
md^^ 
sts^H 
f  d^ 


Selfhood  and  Sacrifice. 


185 


lamp  of  life,  while  thej  gave 
to  the  woricL 
It  is  no  answer  to  say  that  the  vic- 
IpMl  of  intellectual  toil,  broken  down 
|m  health  or  fortune,  have  counted 
phtir  work,  a  privilege  and  joy.  As 
deny  the  martyr's  sacridce,  be- 
he  has  joyed  in  his  integrity. 
many  of  the  world's  intellectual 
tors,  have  been  martyrs.  Soc- 
died  in  prison,  as  a  public  male- 
;or;  for  the  heuliug  wisdom  he 
pifeed  his  peoTile,  dea<lly  i>oison  was 

E  reward.  Homer  had  a  l>t  so  oI>- 
Ky  at  least,  that  nobody  knew  his 
hplace ;  and  indeed  some  modern 
are  denying  that  there  ever 
any  Homer.  Plato  travelled  back 
forth  from  his  Iiome  in  Athens  to 
coart  of  the  Syracusan  tyrant, 
xA  indeed  and  feared,  but  per- 
iKuted  and  in  peril  of  lite;  nay, 
ipBd  once  sold  for  a  slave.  Cicero 
■iMred  a  worse  fate.  Dante,  all  his 
fiife  knew,  as  he  expressed  it,  — 

^florv  &al:  WBS  a  stranger's  bread, 

]Mam  hard  the  path  still  up  and  down  to  tread, 

1 A  firui^r*9  stairs." 

Copernicus      and      Galileo     found 

-ioeDce  no  more  profitable  than  Dante 

iBond  poetry.      Shakspeare    had    a 

kome:    but    too   poorly    endowed   to 

tfiad  long  in  his  name,  after  he  left 

k:  the  income  upon  which  he  retired 

vas  barely   two    or  three    hundred 

I  founds  a  ye;ir;  and  so  little  did  his 

Mttemporaries  know  or  think  of  him, 

I  tti:  the  critics  hunt  in  vain  for  the 

faails  of   his   private   life.       "  The 

1  ■ighty  space  of  his  large   honor>,'' 

Arinkd  :o  an  obscure  myth  of  a  life 

k  theatres  of  London  or  on  the  banks 

if  the  Avon. 

I  might  go  on  to  speak,  but  it  needs 
r  Bi^  of  the  noble  philanthropists  and 
UBMHiaries,  often  spoken  of  lightly 
dicw  dajSy  because  what  is  noblest 
ft  cnduza  the  aererest  criticism ; 


of  inventors,  seldom  rewarded  for  their  ^9 
sagacity  and  the  immense  bene  tits 
they  have  conferred  upon  the  world ; 
of  soldiers,  our  own  especially,  buried 
by  thousands,  in  unknown  graves  — 
green,  would  we  fain  say,  green  for- 
ever be  the  mounds  that  cover  them  ! 
Let  processions  of  men  and  wom^n 
and  children,  every  year,  bring  flow- 
ers, bring  garlands  of  honor,  to  their 
lowly  tombs ! 

But  there  is  another  form  of  self- 
consecration  which  is  yet  more  essen- 
tial, and  which  is  universal.  And  yet 
because  it  is  essential  and  universal, 
the  very  life-spring  of  the  world's 
growth ;  because  it  is  no  signal  bene- 
tit,  but  the  common  bless  in  pj  of  o.ir 
existence ;  because  it  moulds  our  un- 
conscious infancy,  and  mingles  with 
our  thoughtless  childhood,  and  is  an 
incorporate  part  of  our  being,  it  is 
apt  to  be  overlooked  and  forgotten. 
The  sap  that  flows  up  through  the  ^^ 
roots  of  the  worhl  —  it  is  out  of  sij^ht.  ^^ 
The  stately  growths  we  see  ;  the  trees 
that  drop  balsam  and  healinir  upon 
the  nations,  we  see  ;  the  schools,  the 
universities,  the  hospitals,  whii-h  bene- 
ticeuce  has  builded,  we  see;  but  the 
stream  that,  througli  all  ages,  is  flow- 
ing from  sire  to  son,  is  a  hidden  cur- 
rent. 

It  is  one  of  the  miracles  of  the 
world  —  this  life  that  is  forever  losini;, 
merging  itself  in  a  new  life.  We 
talk  of  martyrdoms;  but  tln're  are 
ten  thousands  of  martyrdoms,  of  which 
the  World  never  hears.  Beautiful  it 
is  to  die  for  our  country;  bt-auriful  it 
is  to  surrender  life  for  the  cause  of 
religious  freedom ;  beautiful  to  f/o 
forthy  to  bear  help  and  healinj;  to  tlie 
sick,  the  wounde«l,  the  outcast  and 
forlorn  ;  but  tliere  are  those  who  sf<nj 
at  home,  alone,  unknown,  uncele- 
brated, to  do  and  to  bear  more  than 
is  ev.'r  done,  in  one  brief  act  of  hero-         J 


]||SI 


Seffkood  amd  Saer^kiB. 


lliii§  cue  and  aasMty  iTHur  and  wMfee 
^kMi  to  the  gimva.  Tkej  connft  it 
IM»  piaita ;  thej  cwwidpr  it  no  aaeii^ 
iiMw  I  apeak  not^  but  §ai  the  aimple 
t««tli,of  that  which  to  me,  ia  too  hoi/ 
tw  eulogy. '  Bat  meet  it  ii^  that  a 
IpHMfation  ooming  into  life,  which 
owee  iU  training  and  coltore  and  piea- 
tNnration  to  a  generation  that  is  paaa- 
iug  away,  should  be  sensible  of  this 
Ifuth— of  tills  solemn  mystery  of 
IVoTidence  — of  this  law  of  sacrifice, 
of  this  outflow  from  self  into  domes- 
Iks  into  social  life|  which  lies  at  the 
.  Tttj  roots  of  the  worid. 

There  is  one  further  application 
of  the  principle  of  disinterestedness, 
which  goes  beyond  clashes  and  instan- 
ces such  as  I  have  mentioned,  and 
f^mbiaces  men  simply  as  fellow-men. 
Much  has  been  said  among  us  of  late 
yt>«r»«  and  none  too  much,  of  the  dan- 
I^'t9  v^f  an  extreme  individualism. 
Wo  IvjjAU  as  u  religions  body,  in  a 
»:i>M»jj  ,issn»rtion  of  the  rights  of  indi- 
\*%l«>*l  \*|Mnion;  and  we  went  on  in 
ituit  *|^nl  for  a  considerable  time; 
uU  u  Mvm^K  at  length,  as  if  we  were 
hu  Mv'  iv'  Kvt«v  lUl  coherence  and  to  fall 
^^  t'"^'^''^  ^*^  uttt^r  disintegration.  But 
•%  U's\  \o.4v«i  n^K  moving  in  that  zig- 
„»^  U\w  vikhivh  marks  all  human  prog- 
u-M  xvo  ik\^\»ks»  to  tho  dangers  of  the 
...uuOiou,  )4ikI  hi»|^(uly  found  that  if 
>\»  ,v»uM  »u»l  ttijitixv  U|Hm  any  techni- 

,t.  sUu)itiu»ik  vf  V'briHtian  faith,  we 
..    i.^uUiuo    k>ii  i'hristiau   work. 

4  n     \:,  KuuJ  i»N>uA?wwvH»  was  formed ; 

i      vx  'mi'uiKo  waauW^u;  new  funds 

N\     .  .  '  .1  v\i  »uio  our  (fKVMury ;  we  are 

^     .1;;   \vk«i   mJi    Ivaots    more 

X*     .  \    U.,  I  N>\Ouvovvvx^)oin0  before; 

.     t.  ^  .u^  TooWu  gbun^hes  and 

«x\    ^Hu'^w   btMiiUM    doing 

■■■:,   ^^   iui««^iMM  HilMtoad;  in 

^<     .  ^^    u^  iv^^H^  W  4m  lk#  work 


which,  in 
tiao 


vi&«tikcr| 


But  then  ii 
which  I  legaid  with  eq[isl  m 
and  which  promises  m  hdk,' 
deeper  than  any  thing  ebe  we  I 
I  allude  to  those  Unions^  is  i 
I  think  the  eity  of  FnmdeMS 
the  way:  and  in  which  Sw4 
ford,  Worcester,  and 
fidlowed  Ae  example, 
ations  proride  a  poblio 
well  lighted  and  wanned, 
who  win,  to  lesoTt  to  them;  tt 
peciaHy  for  the  youngs  who  aassi 
good  cttltnre,  entertainment  ai^ 
oouragement|  and  in  these  nsril 
found    books,  pietaze% 
mnsic  perfaapa;  and  ehu 
lar  instmction  nmy  be 
lectures  occasionally  giren,  or 
sions  held;    in   fact,   whatevci 
contribute  to  the  general  ini| 
ment  and  to  the  pleasant  and  | 
able  passing  of  social  eveningly 
be  introduced.     This  kind  of  in 
tion    is    especially   adapted    to 
smaller  cities ;  and  may  be  ezb 
to  our  country  villages.     Our  { 
in  the  country,  live  too  much 
and  alone  ;  and  besides  the  dirsi 
vantages  of  these  gatherings  togi 
a  mutual  acquaintance  and  a  k 
feeling  would  be  promoted,  whifi 
of  scarcely  less  importance. 

Let  me  add  that  there  is  a 
ideal  of  life,  which,  I  think,  is  I 
arising  among  us;  and  which, 
it  is  fully  carried  out,  I  beliew 
make  an  impression  upon  SO 
never  before  seen  in  the  world. 
is  the  idea  of  mutual  helpfol 
of  every  man's  living  not  to  hii 
but  to  (rod,  in  loving  and  hi 
his  kind.  Helpfulness,  I  say- 
which  Mr.  Buskin  describes  I 
most  glorious  attribute  of  Qod  hi 


Selfhood  and  Sacrifice. 


187 


cb  has  so  seized  upon  his  im- 
n,  that  he  ventures  to  substi- 
r  "  Holy,  holy,  holy  is  the 
Flelpfiil,  helpful,  helpful,  is  the 
xi  Almighty  !*  This  will  not 

it  indicates  a  glorious  ten- 
f  modem  thought.  The  old 
f  life  has  been,  to  get  to- 
he  means  of  comfort  and  en- 
t ;  to  get  wealth,  to  get  a  fine 
0  get  luxuries  for  wassail  and 
,  or  to  get  books  and  pictures ; 
n  to  sit  down  and  enjoy  all 
mI  estate,  and  transmit  it  to 
e  heirs,  with  little  thought  of 
-with  some  decent  charities 
,  bat  without  taking  isto 
r  life,  the  common  weal,  hap- 
nd  improvement  of  all  around. 
:  a  millennium  would  it  begin, 
ad  of  this,  every  m:in  should 
nng,  just  so  far  as  he  can  go 
caking  care  of  his  own  body 
1,  what  he  can  do  for  others  — 
ny  merely  eleemosynary  way ; 
rely  to  instruct  and  improve 
ith  the  pharisaic  assumption 
ig  better  or  better  off  tlian 
»ut  by  acting  a  brotlierly  part 

them,    speaking    neighborly 

doing  neighborly  deeds, 
ng  the  path,  softening  the  lot, 
dl  erring  and  sorrow,  and  joy 
ih,  as  if  they  were  their  own  ; 
lerever  there  is  any  difficulty 

or  need,  to  "  lead  a  hand." 
rer  such  a  spirit  enters  into 
rvades  society,  it  will  make  a 
'compared  with  which,  our 
Jl  sink  back  among  the  dark 

hort,  when  is  it,  that  a  man 
id  is,  the  highest  that  he  is 
of?  The  answer  is,  when 
Dg  himself,  forgetting  advan- 
;aiQ,  praise,  fame,  he  pours 
OQty  in  intellectual  or  moral, 
\j  wmj,   beneficent    activity. 


When  does  culture  or  art  in  him  at- 
tain to  the  highest?  It  is  wh**n 
going  beyond  all  thoughts  of  culture 
and  art,  he  flings  himself,  in  perfect 
sympathy  and  free  communion,  into 
the  great  mass  of  human  interests. 
It  is  so  that  the  greatest  things  have 
been  achieved  in  all  the  higher  fields 
of  human  effort  —  in  writing,  in  elo- 
quence, in  painting  and  sculpture  and 
music ;  and  it  is  so,  especially,  that 
the  doers  of  great  things,  have  be- 
come the  ndblest  men.  "  Art  for  art's 
sake,"  has  been  the  motto  for  culture, 
with  some.  And  to  a  cert.iin  extent, 
that  is  true.  It  is  fine  to  work  for 
the  perfection  of  the  work,  and  with- 
out any  intrusion  of  self.  But  a  man 
may  work  so,  upon  a  theme  of  little 
or  no  significance  to  the  world's  im- 
provement or  welfare.  He  may  work 
so,  with  small  thoughts,  small  ideals, 
for  which  nobody  cares,  or  has  any 
reason  to  care.  But  so  can  he  not 
work  grandly,  however  finished  be 
the  result.  Art  is  for  the  sake  of 
•omething  beyond  itself.  Only  when 
it  goes  out  into  great  ideals  that 
mingle  themselves  with  the  widest 
culture  and  improvement  of  men, 
only  when  it  strikes  for  the  right,  for 
liberty,  for  country,  for  the  common 
weal,  does  it  achieve  its  end. 

We  have  had  literature  enough, 
and  have  it  now,  in  which  the  writer 
seems  hardly  to  go  beyond  himself — 
writing  out  of  himself  and  into  him- 
self —  occupied  with  making  fine 
sentences,  without  any  earnest  intent ; 
and  which  readers,  used  to  feed  upon 
the  honest  bread  of  plain  English 
speech,  hardly  know  what  to  make 
of.  Very  fine,  these  sparkling  sen- 
tences may  be,  very  beautiful,  very 
apt  to  strike  with  admiration ;  but 
they  divert  attention  with  surprises, 
or  cover  up  thought  with  corusca- 
tions.    They  are  like  gems  that  lie     ^ 


188 


Selfhood  and  Sacrifice. 


scattered  upon   tbe  table;  they  are  that  no  gr^at  era  aha 

not    wi-Qught    into    any   well-worea  make  great  writers, 

fabric  ;  tliej  do  not  move  on  the  aub-        I  believe  it     I  belier©  in  a  j»#t^ 

ject  to  any  conclusion.  ual  human  progress — progrpa?^ 

Men    may   win    j^reat    admiration  kind,  material,  mental^    moi 

ar)d  great  fame^  but  not  great  love;  gious,  dmne;  and  I  greatly   i 

thoni^h  tliey  gain,  perhaps,  as  mueh  say  a  few  words  in  close,  if   v 

as   tht?y  give.     Orily  by  writing  nut  iuilulge  me  upon  this  point, 

of  the  boiiom  of  a  gr*'iit  htimanity  to  found  tbi^  faith  in  prngn^as,  on 

the  great  hunuiuity,  citn  oue  till  the  principles  which  I  have  been  « 

measure  of  good  art  or  good  crilture.  ingin  this  lecture.      Selfhomi 

Even  Goethe,  of  whom  Prof.  Seeley  a  man  to  take  care  of  hi mtieU,     i  i  jfn 

says,  tbat  *'  he  found  eveiy  thing  in-  out  of  himself  ij^  the  only  way.  in  wIntK 

teresting   exct*pt    the    fuct    that  Xa-  hccan  tak<3  care  of  himcielf  —  t\n n';* 

jK^leon  was  trampling  upon  Germany**  care,  that  is  to  say,  of  his  own  iiii^>r>F5* 

—  a  fatal   exception  :   even   Goethe,  meat  and  happiness.    In  selfhood, 

with  at]  his  art,  hiii  marvellous  ver^a-  cosjary  as  it  is,  there  is  no  vir^ 

tility  and  fine  accoQjplisbmeiit,  failed  little  joy.     Outflow  from  it — l^ 

to  reacli  the  hii;]iest  phice,  either  in  erosity,  dij^interestedness — eiu^ui 

the  best  self-culture,  or  in  men *s  best  the  whole  sphere  of  aor  t-ulttirti  i 

love,     Savanff  poet,  novelist,  of  high  welfare. 

mark,   as   he  was,  he   has  no  such        Can  there  be  any  doubt  li^Nui  i^it 

place  as  Newton,   Wordsworth,  and  of  these  points  —  either  the  coltun 

Walter  Scott,  in  meu*s  love.     Schiller  welfare?  i 

an<l  Kichter,  I  believe*  are  more  be-        Upon  the  onlture,  I  say;  uponi^ 

loved  in  Germany,  than  Goethe.  makes  for  human  improve menL  Tl| 

In  mere  art^  in  perft-ction  of  atyli^  is  evil  enongb  in  the  world;  butiil 

no  wntern  have  .equal led  Homer  and  nation    or  age  ever  approved  of  I 

SbaUspeare,     But  Mcy  did  not  say,  What  i»eople  ever  praise^l 

"Art  for  art's  sake.''     They  had  no  injustice,  falsity  ing  of  spee  i 

thought   but   to   communicate    their  Ko  literature  ever  celebrat4»l   Ibfl 

thought      If  singular    felicities   ap-  No  religion  ever  enjoined  thetn.    ] 

pear  in  their  style,  little  eddyinga  of  laws  ever  enacted  them.     Irnngto 

ex<[uiaitely   turned   conceits,    as    es-  law  that  propnised  to  rewani  villi 

pecially  in  Shakspeare,  they  made  a  and  to  punish  honest  men.     Thew|| 

part  of^  and  swept  on  the  strong  cur-  would  spit  upon  it.     Imagine  a  ^ 

itfut  of  their  ideas.     They  were  not  or  es*ay  or  poem  or  oration,  that  plli 

introduced    for    their  own    sake,   or  ly  set  about  to  tell  what  a  beautiful  I 

merely  to  please  the  writer.  noble  thing  it  is,  to  lie,  to  defraud^ 

It  has  been  said  that  great  authors  wrong,  corrupt,  and  ruin  our  fetti] 

are  born  of  great  occasions.     Home  re-  No  man  ever  had  the  faoo  to  do  ll 

markahle  era,  some  turn  or  tide  in  a  thing.     No ;  boolca  may  have  tad 

human  thought,  or  in  human  aflTairs,  such   things,   but  they  never  taq| 

have  borne  them  on  to  their  aviprenie  them  as  noble  tilings.     Th«  manner 

greatness.     W^ill  not  the  time  come,  lived,  that  would  stan<i  up  anil  i 

when  men  shall  so  look  into  the  depths  '^  It  is  a  «|iorious  thing  to  betraf  ti 

of  the  human  heart,  into  the  tragic  or  or  to  ruin  one*«  country,  or  to  m 

blissfui  experiences  of  all  humim  life,  pheme  God/'     Moo  do  such  tkil 


Selfhood  and  Sacrifice. 


189 


»y  don't  reverence  nor  respect 
Ives  for  doing  tbem. 
then  being  settled  —  and  it  is  a 
loos  fiict  —  the  right  principle 
ultore,  being  thus  set  up,  high 
■epealable  in  the  hanian  con- 
and  in  the  sentiments  of  all 
id  —  what  says  the  common 
ent  of  men  about  the  happiness 
ry  of  following  the  right  ?  Does 
-'  It  is  a  blessed  thing  to  be  a 
in ;  it  is  good  and  wise  to  be 
or  cruel  man."  Does  it  say  — 
»y  is  the  miser,  the  knave,  the 
nl/'  No,  it  does  not  There  is 
tion  to  do  wrong;  that  all 
there  is  a  notion  that  it  may 
e  some  temporary  interest  or 
e:  there  is  a  disposition  in 
to  prefer  some  sensual  gratifica- 
the  purer  satisfactions  of  the 
nature;  but  there  is,  at  the 
me,  a  deep-founded  conviction, 
isery  in  the  long  run  must  fol- 
;  that  the  everhisting  law  of 
ks  so  ordained  it  to  be;  and  that 
ir  pure,  the  noble,  the  heroic, 
•1  and  godlike  aifections  can 
ake  such  a  nature  as  ours,  con- 
id  happy. 

e  then  is  another  stupendous 
•le  settled.  And  now,  I  say,  this 
\a  a  lover  of  happiness.  He  is 
se :  he  is  not  cloar-seeing ;  he  is 
id  cither —  i.e.,  he  is  not  fixedly 
rterminately  good  ;  he  is  weak 
le  is  easily  misled  ;  he  is  often 
nns  to  the  higher  laws  of  his  na- 
bat  —  I  hold  to  that  —  he  is  a 
'f  happiness ;  and  happiness,  he 
.  can  never  be  found,  but  in  obe- 
to  those  higher  laws.  He  is  a 
f  happiness,  I  say ;  he  cannot  be 
trfU  without  wishing  to  be  better 
he  is  sick,  he  wants  to  be  well ; 
wf  lets  in  the  rain,  he  will  have 
md ;  if  the  meanest  implement 
tfi  is  bnken,  he  will  have  it 


mended.  Is  it  not  natural  —  is  it  not 
inevitable,  that  this  tendency  should 
yet  develop  itself  in  the  higher  con- 
cerns of  his  being?  Is  it  not  in  the 
natural  order  of  things,  that  the  higher 
should  at  length  gain  the  ascendency 
over  the  lower,  th«  stronger  over  the 
weaker,  the  nobler  over  the  meaner  ? 
How  can  it  be  thought  —  how  can  it 
be^  in  the  realm  of  Infinite  Beneficence 
and  Wisdom,  that  meanness  and  vile- 
ness,  sin  and  ruin  should  be  strong 
and  prevail,  and  gain  victory  upon 
victory,  and  spread  curse  beyond 
curse,  and  draw  their  dark  trail  over 
the  bright  eternity  of  ages  ! 

No,  in  the  order  of  things,  this  can- 
not be.  Grant  that  there  are  evils, 
difficulties,  obstacles  in  the  way.  But 
in  the  order  of  things,  principles  do 
not  give  way  before  temporary  disturb- 
ances. Law  does  not  yield  to  con- 
fusion. Gravitation  binds  the  earth, 
notwithstanding  all  the  turmoil  ui)on  ^^ 
its  bosom.  Light  prevails  over  dark-  ^^ 
ness,  though  cloud  and  storm  and 
night  interrupt  its  course.  The  mor- 
al turmoil  upon  earth's  bosom,  war 
and  outbreak  and  wide-spread  disas- 
ter, the  cloud  and  storm  and  darkness 
of  human  passions  and  vices,  the  bit- 
ter struggles  and  sorrows  of  humanity, 
the  dark  shadows  of  earthly  strife  and 
pain  and  sin,  are  yet  to  give  place  to 
immutable  law,  to  all-conquering 
might  and  right,  to  everlasting  day. 

I  am  as  sure  of  it,  as  I  am  of  the 
being  of  God  —  as  I  am  of  my  own 
being.  The  principles  of  progress  are 
laid  in  human  nature.  If  man  did 
not  care  for  himself,  I  should  have  no 
hope  of  him.  If  he  could  not  go 
out  from  himself,  and  find  therein  his 
improvement,  virtue  and  happiness,  I 
should  have  no  hope  of  him.  But 
these  two  principles  yoked  together, 
in  the  Heaven-ordained  frame  of  our 
being,  will  draw  on  to  victory.  J 


■  Washington  the  General. 


191 


ppeals  and  the  promise  of 
loanty  indaced  them  to  re- 
reekfl  longer. 

the  first  years  of  the  war, 
ira  and  men,  with  individual 
3j  "weie  entirely  ignorant 
rj    organization   and   disci- 

)  Baron  Stenben  found  that 
part  of  the  militia  scarce 
manoal  exercise,  and  that 
'fficers  nor  men  knew  any 
Ten  the  simplest  manoeuvres, 
ost  ordinary  rules  and  pre- 
in  guard  and  outpost  duty. 
m,  nothing  that  would  be 
oar  day  an  army,  existed ; 
afterwards  things  were  not 
noTed,  owing  to  the  constant 
of  instmcted  men  and  their 
snt  by  raw  recruits. 
nmissariat  was  most  wretch- 
naged.  The  troops  were 
days  on  the  verge  of  star- 
Forage  had  to  be  taken  by 
i  was  not  till  October,  1780, 
proper  system  of  or*^aniza- 
r  subsistence  was  established, 
rulties  in  obtaining  transpor- 
11  be  readily  imagino«l. 
i  end  of  March,  1779,  Steu- 
»,  ''One-third  must  be  de- 
om  the  force  for  those  alone 
Id  not  march  for  want  of 
uid  shoes.  The  march  is 
►y  the  blood  of  barefoot  troops 
low.  Look  at  their  nourish- 
^thing,  arms,  order,  and  disci- 
)e  how  much  we  are  inferior 
hese  respects  to  them,  and 
wer  me  if  our  game  is  not  a 
aidoaa  one." 

!r  and  nakedness  could  not 
yralize  the  troops,  and  many 
were  threatening  from  time 
to  disband.  The  discontent 
r  culminated  in  occasional 
,  in  one  of  which  the  whole 


Pennsylvania  line  marched  away  un- 
der its  sergeants. 

In  view  of  all  this,  it  is  no  over- 
statement to  say  that  the  military 
force  under  MirDowell  at  Bull  Run, 
however  unfit  for  man;hing  and  the 
hanlships  of  a  campaign,  was  moie 
reliable  in  an  engagement  with  regu- 
lar troops  in  open  field  than  Wash- 
ington's army,  in  the  first  years  of 
the  war,  however  brave  and  patriotic 
the  men  who  composed  it. 

Having  now  a  general  idea  of  the 
amount  and  condition  of  Washing- 
ton's force,  we  will  make  a  rapid 
sketch  of  what  he  accomplished  with 
it,  beginning  at 

BOSTON. 

After  Bunker  Hill,  Gen.  Gage  was 
still  occupying  Boston  with  elcvi-n 
thousand  men.  Large  bodies  of  the 
neighboring  militia  promptly  gath- 
ered round  it;  but  its  water  communi- 
cations were  unimpaired,  as  the  Brit- 
ish, by  their  fleet,  had  command  o( 
the  8oa. 

Washington  took  command  at 
Cambridge  on  the  3d  of  July,  1775. 
Bodies  of  raw  militia,  very  imperfectly 
armed,  occupied  scattered  posts  ex- 
tending from  Dorchester  to  Mystic 
River.  Powder  wjis  very  scant ; 
sometimes  there  was  no  other  ammu- 
nition in  camp  than  a  few  cartridges 
in  the  men's  boxes;  and  there  was 
no  artillery,  though  plenty  of  enthu- 
siasm. 

There  was  no  way  of  driving  out 
the  enemy  from  the  city,  there  being 
as  yet  no  means  of  bombardment ; 
and  a  direct  attack  on  the  city  itself, 
defended  by  a  large  force  of  regular 
troops,  was  not  to  be  thought  of  with 
the  materials  then  at  hand.  There 
would  have  been  more  chance  of  ^ac- 
cess if  the  British  could  oe  induced 
to  come  oat  and  attack.     Accordingly 


192 


Washington  the  General 


Washington  caused  one  nigbt  a  post 
to  be  seizerl,  and  occupied  with  four- 
teen hundred  men,  within  musket- 
gbot  of  the  enemy's  work8  at  Charles- 
town  Keck,  But  Gen.  Gaj2:e  reniem- 
ered  Bunker  Hillj  and  the  challenge 
raij  not  accepted* 

By  January  our  force  was  reduced 
to  tfin  thousand  men.  Waabington 
then  proposed  an  attack  on  the  city 
by  ho.its  \n  front,  and  by  Boston 
Nerk  in  rear  J  but  he  yicdtled  to  the 
decision  of  a  council  of  war,  by  which 
it  wa«  disapproved. 

Again,  in  February,  tlie  harbor  be- 
ing frojsen  over,  he  resolved  to  make 
an  attack  over  the  ice  \  but  the  want 
of  arms  and  ammunition  compelled 
hira  to  abandon  the  scheme. 

In  March,  Gen.  Knox  having  at 
last  arrived  with  a  park  of  ordnance, 
Washington  immediately  htid  Dor- 
chester Ileights  fortified,  and  batter- 
ies planted  on  them.  These  heights 
were  two  miles  south  of  Boston,  and 
cnmmaiided  both  the  city  and  the 
shipping.  If  the  heights  were  at* 
tacked,  Gen.  Putnam  was  directed  to 
cross  over  with  tour  tliousand  men 
from  Lech  mere  Point,  on  the  opposite 
si  lie  of  ESo^toM,  drive  before  him  the 
weakened  garrison,  and  unite  with 
the  rest  of  our  troops  at  Boston  J^eck. 
Tbe  erection  of  the  works  and  bat- 
teries was  concealed  by  a  bombard- 
ment for  two  nights  at  other  points. 

On  discovering  that  the  batteries  on 
Dorchester  Heights  made  the  city 
untenable,  Gen.  G^ge  chose  to  evac- 
uate it  with  his  whole  army,  rather 
than  try  another  Bunker-Hill  ex- 
periment* 

And  iso  Boston  was  recovered. 

NSW  TOBK. 

The  next  object  was  the  defence  of 
New  Vork  City. 


In   August,  17T6,  a  British 
of  thirty  thousand  men*  nwWr  ' 
Sir  William  Howe^  landed  on  Su 
Island,  supported  by  Lord  Howe  1 
a  powerful  fleet,  which  gave  thv 
my   command   of    the    hay   mA\ 
the  waters  around  the  city. 

The   defence   was   a  difficult 
Our  nominal  force  was  under  tn 
thousand  men,  mostly  raw  and  on 
ciplined;   one-fourth   of  whom 
sick,  while  a  large  number  we»  I 
sent.     Owing  to   the   uncertainty 
to  the  point  of  the  expected  atl 
they  were    kept   in    scattered 
extending  over  fifteen  miles. 

On  the  26th  of  Augu**t  the  Br 
army  secretly   landed  on   Loog  1 
land,  and   formed  some    milet 
of  Brooklyii  Heights.     By  d« 
movements  of  their  ships*  th<?  t»ii 
had  kept  Washington  completdj 
the   dark   as  to   whether  the 
would    be    by  Brooklyn   Height 
Kingsbridge  at  tbe  northern  e» 
ity  of  New  York  Island,  or  at 
point  between  Ktngsbridge  and 
city  J   or  by   two  or   more   of 
points   at  once.     The  deception  j 
kept  up  even  to  the  morning 
27th,  when  five    men   of  war 
beating  up  the  bay,  as  if  to 
the  city.     But  suddenly  the  noii 
battle    from    Brooklyn    Heights  | 
noimced  the  point  of  atta^^k,  and  i 
it  ha<i  already  begun. 

Washington    had   previously 
over  eleven  thousand  men  for  th« 
fence  of  the  heights,  under  cou 
of    Gen*  Greene ;    who   at  otia 
connoitred  the  gronnd,  and   ma 
thorough  study  of  the  approa 
it.     He  had  also  thrown  up  a 
in  trench  me nt  or  tete-d^pomi 
landing,  with  both  of  its  ftftal 
ing  on  the  East  River,     But  oa 
morning  of  the  attack    Gn^enul 
ill  io   bed  with  a  ragiug  fijv« 


WashingUm  the  Oenerai. 


193 


Pntmm  had  been  sent  over  to 
is  i^ace. 

*  troops  were  strongly  posted 

the  crest  of  the  heights,  in 

%  manner  as  to  cover  the  two 

by  which  the  enemy  mnst  ad- 

Bot  there  was   another,  the 
ica  road,   leading  on   our   left 
which  had  been  left  unguarded. 
» British  advanced  in  three  col- 

By  threatening  our  right  and 
oadingour  centre,  they  kept  the 
ion  of  our  troops  diverted  until 
right  column,  which  had  secretly 
i  the  Jamaica  road  by  a  circu- 
path  through  a  swamp  during 
igfat,  soddeuly  turned  our  left 
ttacked  our  rear.  Then  the  ene- 
ttacked  at  the  same  time  in 
The  surprise  naturally  created 
confosion,  which,  after  some 
rate  fighting,  ended  in  a  defeat ; 
fax  troops  were  driven  to  take 
r  behind  the  tete-de-pontf  where 
memy  stopped  their  pursuit, 
dering  the  inexperience  of  our 
>  their  great  inferiority  in  num- 
ind  the  Mirpriso,  the  resistance 
made  was  creditable  in  the 
St  degree.  Out  of  five  tliousand 
>ed,  our  loss  was  two  thousand. 
Bntii«h  lo^  was  three  hundred 
ighty. 

e  rtnig«rle  was  so  short  after  the 
k  opened,  that  Washington,  who 
ome  distance  up  the  island,  ar- 
ou  the  gn>und  only  in  time  to 
ss  the  catastrophe, 
e  next  morning  the  enemy,  who 
in  greatly  superior  numbers, 
1  not  fail  to  attack ;  and  there 
be  no  hope  of  a  successful  de- 
;  for  not  only  were  our  men 
ttted,  but  their  arms  had  been 
useless  by  a  violent  storm  of 
while  some  of  them  had  yet  no 
atalL  The  nine  thousand  men 
A  mMt  be  aaved  for  the  cause. 
It 


The  East  River  at  this  point  was 
three-quarters  of  a  mile  wide,  with  a 
rapid  tide.  Scoots  reported  prepara- 
tions for  moving  in  the  fleet  off 
Staten  Island.  A  few  hours  would 
suffice  for  the  ships  to  reach  the  East 
River,  and  make  a  retreat  impossi- 
ble. Washington's  dispositions  in 
this  emergency  were  prompt,  skilful, 
and  energetic.  The  most  minute  pre- 
cautions were  taken  for  the  retreat 
itself,  and  for  its  concealment  from 
the  enemy.  Fortunately  a  friendly 
fog  assisted,  and  by  daylight  th» 
whole  force  were  safely  landed  in 
New  York,  and  nothing  but  a  few 
heavy  guns  was  left  behind.  Wash- 
ington himself  was  the  last  man  to 
cross,  and  when  he  lay  down  that 
night  he  had  been  forty-eight  hours 
in  the  saddle. 

With  a  large  hostile  force  holding 
Brooklyn  Heights  and  Governor's  Is- 
land, it  was  plain  that  New  York  waa^  ^ 
no  longer  tenable;  and  not  the  city  ^BP 
only,  but  tlie  whole  island,  which 
could  be  flanked  at  any  moment  on 
both  sides  by  the  ships  of  war.  So« 
Washington  retired  with  his  force  to- 
a  fortified  camp  he  hiwl  caused  to  be 
constructed  at  Kingsbridge,  in  a  strong 
position  on  a  chain  of  heights,  its 
flank  on  Hudson  River  btjing  pro- 
tected by  cfiHvauX'dt^fnsc  across  the 
river,  and  by  Fort  Lee  on  the  opposite 
bank. 

Afterwards,  the  enemy,  having 
landed  at  Throg  s  Neck,  threatening 
our  rear,  and  their  ships  having 
forced  the  ch era iix-de-f rise.  Kings- 
bridge  was  no  longer  tenable.  Wash- 
ington therefore  retired  from  the 
island  over  to  White  Plains  in  West 
Chester,  taking  up  a  position  behind 
the  River  Bronx,  a  narrow,  but  deep 
stream. 

Fort  Washington  occupied  the 
crest  of  one  of  the  rocky  heights  at «      J 


Washington  the  General 


195 


IhiM  detachments,  and  attack  the 
PShiee  posts  simultaneously.  Wash- 
ith  twenty-four  hundred 
,  crossed  over  to  Trenton.  After 
ring  the  one  thousand  Hessians 
he  would  have  followed  the 
tion  of  Greene  and  Knox  to 
&tely  march  down  and  attack 
I  two  remaining  posts,  hut  yielded 
I  reluctance  to  the  opinion  of  the 
ity  of  a  council  of  war,  which 
approved  the  movement.  The  at- 
of  the  other  two  detachments 
[  failed  in  consequence  of  the  state 
^  the  ice,  which  made  it  impossible 
r  them  to  cross. 

We  must  rapidly  pass  over  Wash- 

a's  two-days'  pursuit  of  the  re- 

tig     Hessians   with     his    small 

worn  out  with   fatigue,   hard- 

and    privations;    his   ordering 

t  parties  of  militia  towards  Morris- 

to  harass  their  flank  and  rear ; 

I  success,  by  earnest  entreaties  and 

promise  of  an   extra    bounty,  in 

rUiicing  his  oldest  regiments,  whose 

had  expired,  to  stay  six  weeks 

plMiger;  Howe's  and  Cornwallis's  con- 

cmtratioa   of    some    nine    thousand 

I  Ben  at  Princeton ;  their  march  upon 

iTieaton;  his  posting  of  his  force  of 

r-«ix  hundred  men,  on  the  ene- 

lmf%   approach,    behind     Assanpink 

iCnek,  with  guns  sweeping  the  stone 

thidge  which  crossed  it;  his  sending 

an  advance  to  the   distance   of 

Ifcee  miles  to  feel  the  enemy,  and, 

fMiniig  fighting,  to  lead   him   upon 

I  tte  bridge,  where  the  enemy  arrived 

I  it  muet ;  his  repulse  of  the  entire 

[Intiih  force  in   their  attacks  upon 

[At  bridge    and    fords;    the    night 

lapiag  of  both  forces  on   opposite 

'^  of  the  creek,  and  Cornwallis's 

Mt  that  ^  be  was  going  to  bag  the 

^  db  next  morning ; "  in  order  to 

»at  dbe  raasterij  blow  dealt  the 


PRINCETON. 


We  now  know  that  Washing 
ton's  action  in  the  night  of  Jan.  2, 
1776,  was  the  turning-point  of  the 
war.  He  had,  apparently,  but  one 
of  two  courses  to  take ;  to  await  the 
attack  at  daylight  of  more  than 
double  his  number  of  veteran  troops, 
which  must  destroy  or  capture  his 
entire  force,  or  to  escape  over  the 
Delaware  before  morning. 

But  he  did  neither.  Cornwallis's 
rear-guard  was  still  at  Princeton,  and 
further  on  was  Brunswick,  then  un- 
fortified, the  enemy's  base  in  the  Jer- 
seys, containing  all  their  supplies, 
their  military  chest  with  seventy 
thousand  pounds  in  gold,  and  Gen. 
Lee  and  other  prisoners.  He  de- 
cided to  march  at  once  by  a  new  road 
through  the  woods  to  Princeton,  cut 
off  the  rear-guard,  and  then  press  on 
and  capture  Brunswick.  So,  sending 
his  baggage  down  to  Burlington,  he 
silently  drew  off  his  force,  covering 
its  departure  by  leaving  a  small  de- 
tachment to  keep  up  a  noisy  digging 
of  trenches,  feeding  the  camp-fires, 
going  the  rounds,  and  relieving 
guards  at  the  bridge  and  at  the  fords 
till  daybreak,  when  it  was  to  rejoin 
the  main  body. 

After  a  brilliant  fight  at  Princeton, 
in  which  Washington  displays  the 
reckless  daring  of  a  Ney,  he  hurries 
on  towards  Brunswick  at  the  head  of 
a  detachment  of  cavalry.  But  his 
men  were  now  completely  exhausted 
by  hard  marching,  hard  fighting,  and 
hunger,  and  many  of  them  had  no 
blanket  to  cover  them  when  lying  on 
the  frozen  ground;  so  that  he  was 
obliged  to  halt.  Five  hundred  fresh 
men,  Washington  wrote  soon  after- 
wards, by  marching  with  him  to 
Brunswick,  would  have  put  an  end  to 
the  war.  ^ 


196 


Washington  the  General 


As  Cornwall  is  would  now  be  up 
with  an  overwhelming  force  before 
his  exhau&toJ  men  could  reach 
Brunswick,  he  reluctantlj  abandontnl 
his  intention,  and,  turning  Uj  his  left, 
pushed  on  to  Morrisitown  IlL^ightH, 
where  he  t^>tjk  up  a  permanent  posi- 
tion. It  wa^j  a  remarkably  strong 
one,  on  ateep  and  wooded  liet^bta,  at* 
nio^t  impregnable  to  attack  in  front, 
with  issues  favorable  for  striking  the 
enemy  in  flank  if  he  ventured  to  cross 
the  Jex*sey:^,  with  short  and  easy 
communicationii  in  rear  with  the 
jK-ists  on  the  Hudson,  and  moreover 
only  ten  niilen  from  Brtinswitdv,  and 
overlooking  the  whole  country  hulow ; 
so  that  the  position  wa^  also  an  emi- 
nently strategic  one.  The  effect  of 
It  was  to  ki^ep  the  Jerseys  clear  of 
the  enemy  till  the  June  following, 
and  to  inflict  a  severe  dirfappoiutment 
on  the  British,  who  relied  on  the  Jer- 
seys for  their  winter  supplies*  Or- 
ders were  sent  to  Gen,  Heatfk  on  the 
lludtion  to  march  down  tovvardsi  New 
York  to  prevent  the  enemy  there 
from  detaeliing  to  tije  Jerseys,  while 
the  Jersey  military  were  ordered  to 
send  out  parties  to  scour  the  country 
to  eut  off  supplies,  and  keep  the  eiia- 
my  in  a  state  of  siege. 

We  have  no  space  to  describe 
Howe's  feints  and  stratagems  in  the 
following  June  to  draw  Waaliington 
from  his  fortified  camp  on  the  moun- 
tains down  into  the  |>lai]i,  or  how 
comj^letely  he  was  foiled  in  them  by 
his  aiiversary's  sagacity;  nor  how 
Washington  promptly  availed  him- 
self of  an  opportunity  for  a  suecess- 
fid  attack  by  three  brigatles  under 
Greene  thrown  oat  from  his  left, 
which  would  have  resulted  in  the  de* 
8t ruction  or  capture  of  Howe's  whole 
force  but  for  the  failure  of  Sullivan 
and  Maxwell  on  the  right  to  receive 
their  orders  to   co-operate.     Thence- 


forth be  was  often  called  *^  the  . 
lean  Fabius." 

Washington's     effective     in 
Brandy  wine    campaign    Wivs   elj 
thousand  men,  inclading militia;! 
of  them  badly  armed  and  e<jail 
The  British  force  is  stated  at  eiji 
thousand,  fifteen  thousand   of 
were  brought  into  action, 
*     Howe,  not  daring,  with   Wii»l»ri 
ton    threatening  his    Hank,  to  lu 
across  the  Jerseys,  decided  to 
Philadelphia  by  the  circuitous 
of  Chesapeake  Buy. 

This  plan  was  not  anticipat 
Wash  ington.    Ticonderoga  had  i 
Burgoyne   was  rapidly    pushiii| 
wai^s  Albany,  and  it  was  natitr 
8uppo/<e  that  Howe  would  try  tu  efliw 
a  junction  with  him,  in  order  to 
complish  the  im|)ortant  object  of  i 
ting  off  the  Eastern  from  tlie  Mid 
States  by  the  possession  of  the 
son. 

But  when  certaui  news  came  < 
British  fleet  lieing  seen  in  the 
peake^  he  lost  no  time  in  crosdnj 
Delaware,   and    hurried    to 
Philadelpliia  by  meeting  the 
on  his  way  from   Elk   River 
head    of  Chesapeake   Bay  whel 
had  landed. 

Greene,  who  had   been    sent 
advance,  had  selected  a  g*XKi 
for    striking   the  enemy*s  coluil 
daidc;  and  military  men  now  i 
stand  that  this  is  a  better  model 
pusing  the  advance  of  a  superior! 
than  by  meeting  it  in  front. 
<ouncil  of  war  had    decided    Uf] 
position  at  Cba«i*s  Ford  of  the 
dywine  in  preference,  and  Wa 
ton  yielded  to  this  opinion. 

Our  centre,  under  W*iynfJ 
posted  at  Chad's  Ford  j  the  Pet 
vaaia  militia  at  a  ford  two  mili 


WtuMngton  the  General 


197 


ngh^  under  Sulliran,  two 
(  di vision  in  rear, 
f  to  support  either 
|oir  SoQirmi. 

'     T-        liaasen    made    showy 

-f  crossing  at   Chad's 

■MC&iir^ia^   with   the    enemy's 

uj^  mftde  a  circuit   of  seren- 

fmf  rroased  the  upper  fords  of 

f^  Aod  suddenly  appeared  rup- 

iag  dovn  on  our  right  fiank. 

borried    up    Sullivan^a 

I  ofder^  for  each  brigade  to 

i  enemy  at  once  on  reacldng 

,  brare  fighting;  but 

irer whelmed  by  num- 

I  Ibroed  to  retreat  On  heari  n  g 

of  cannon    and  musketry, 

rushed  with  hid  division 

He  had  four 

I  over;  hh  men 

;  It  10  forty-five  miuates, 

$ved  too  late,      Suih'van 

%Aj  defeated,  and  his  whole 

I  broken  up  and  flving  from 

Greene  with  hi^    troops 

tttand,  and  most  akW- 

lUa&tly  covered   the   re- 

a^iost  such  a  surprise, 
ha<l  sent  cavalry  patrols 
Fto  hid  nght^  to  watch  and  re- 
us of  the  enemy  in  that 
low  they  performed  this 

Inmi  the  fact  that  the 
be  had  of  the  enemy's 

hia  appearance   on   our 


attack  in  front  of 

\  00  little  pres^ied  that 

[tfoopa  Wayne   had   sent 

rddratib  were  allowed  to  re- 

to  US,  with  our  pres- 

ia   campaigning,  this 

iddicaled  what  the  ene- 

I  bo^J  ^'^^  doing.     Perhaps 

>  weft  posted  too  far  apart 

[ ;  and  possibly,  too, 


Sullivan's  force  should  have  been 
made  to  pause  long  enough  to  attack 
in  a  body,  instead  of  by  successive 
brigades  as  they  arrived. 

After  his  defeat,  Washington  took 
up  a  position  to  check  the  enemy's 
advance  by  an  attack  in  flank*  But 
a  violent  storm  water-soaked  his  am- 
munition, and,  sorely  disappointed, 
he  was  obliged  to  march  away  to  give 
his  men  time  to  clean  their  arms  and 
to  get  a  fresli  supply  of  p>owder. 

Then  Washington  would  have  re- 
sumed a  flanking  position,  but  again 
he  deferred  to  a  council  of  war  which 
voted  to  oppose  the  enemy  in  front. 

To  reach  Philadelphia,  the  Britiiih 
must  cross  the  Schuylkill,  on  the  fni^ 
ther  side  of  which  Washington  was 
waiting  to  receive  them.  But  by 
a  feigned  march  towards  Reading, 
where  our  army  i^upplies  were  stored, 
they  induced  Washington  to  move  in 
that  direction,  and  then,  suddenly 
countermarching,  they  crossed  the 
river  at  it^s  lower  fords;  and  the 
road  to  Philadelphia  was  then  open, 
Wiushington  retired  to  Perkiomen 
Creek,  his  men  being  worn  out,  and 
in  great  want  of  shoes  and  blankets. 

Washington  then  prop^jsed  a  sur- 
prise attack  upon  Germ  an  town*  an 
outpost  of  Philadelphia,  where  Howe 
had  stationed  a  considerable  portion 
of  his  force ;  but  a  council  of  war 
refuse<l  to  sanction  an  attack  at 
that  time.  Afterwarila,  learning  that 
Howe  had  detached  largely  to  th^ 
forts  on  the  Delaware,  he  called  a 
second  council  which  then  sanctioned 
the  attack. 

GERMAKTOWN. 

Four  roads  led  to  the  town,  whicb| 
on  approaching  it,  converged  towards 
its  centre  and  rear.  The  outer  onea 
were  over  four  miles  apart.  The 
attack  was  to  be  made  in  four  col- 


198 


Washington  the  General 


umns,  ono  on  eacli  road,  march Lng 
simultaneously  towards  pointa  of  con- 
centration in  rear  of  the  town,  and  to 
close  with  tho  enemy  at  daybreak. 
The  two  outer  columns  were  to  turn 
the  eneniy^8  flanks.  The  surprise  was 
complete.  Our  troops  drove  the  Brit- 
ish, panic-struck,  before  them.  The 
pantL^  even  extended  to  the  gaiTison 
in  Philadelphia,  &nd  preparations  be- 
gan to  be  made  fi>r  a  hasty  retreat 
from  the  city.  But  two  untoward 
incidents  then  turned  our  victory  into 
a  defeat  The  let^  column  arrived 
after  the  rest,  got  on  the  \irroTig  road, 
and  commenced  a  fire  on  the  coluinu 
in  their  front,  mistaking  it  in  the  fog 
for  the  enemy*  Hence  a  pause,  con- 
fusion, and  panic  among  our  own 
tiHiops,  giving  the  British  time  to 
rally  and  attack  in  their  turn.  Mean- 
wlule  a  battalion  of  the  enemy  wliich 
had  been  cut  off  by  our  attack,  threw 
'  it»elf  into  Chew's  stone  bouse,  near 
the  road,  and  opened  fire  on  Knox*8 
column  as  it  p;vssed  by*  Instead  of 
pre.ssing  on,  leaving  only  a  battalion 
to  hold  this  little  garrison  in  check, 
Knox  lost  much  valuable  time  and 
many  of  his  men  in  a  succession  of 
desperate  assaults  upau  the  house, 
until  the  enemy,  now  fully  formed, 
advanced  upon  .our  broken  and  disor- 
ganized qplumns,  and  forced  them  to 
quit  the  field. 

In  this  battle,  it  should  be  remem- 
bered, mast  of  our  men  were  ragged 
and  barefoot.  Their  arms  were  of  a 
most  wretcljed  description,  without 
bayonets,  and  iooa  made  useless  by 
the  wet  fog. 

We  must  pass  over  Washington's 
strenuous  efforts  to  keep  the  forts  of 
the  Delaware,  and  ao  prevent  the 
enemy's  ships  from  getting  possession 
of  the  river,  their  brilliant  defence 
and  bubseiiuent  compulsory  evacua- 
tion, and  the  terrible  winter  encamp- 


I 


ment  at  Valley  Forge,  twenty  tnili 
from  Philadelphia,  where  our  i 
suffered    tlve    extremes   of   cold 
hunger ;  stopping  bat  a  moment  I 
the  battle  of 

MONMOUTH. 

In  June,  1778,  the  British  ev 
ated  Philadelphia,  and  m archill 
the  Jerneys  in  a  long  cx>lumu  of  1 
thousand  men,  under  Sir  Henry  < 
ton,  on  a  single  road,  their  ba^ 
leading,  which  it^nelf  extended  U 
miles.  Washington  was  prompt] 
pursuit,  and  the  success  of  a  rigo 
attack  on  such  a  column  seemed  cc 
taim  Halting  at  within  three 
of  the  eneinj^j  he  sent  forward 
division  to  attiu'k  their  rear»  whik 
was  bringing  up  the  main  bodj 
atta<^k  in  flank  and  complete  the  fie^ 
tory.  On  api»roaching  the 
to  bis  astonishment  and  indi  . 
he  mot  Lee  in  full  retrwat.  Ht*  liii 
fallen  back  before  fifteen  hundi«4 
men  and  one  hundred  and  fifty  hotsit 
W^ashington  hurried  on,  and  fiercely 
atta<!ked  with  his  whole  Ibrce. 
Clinton  had  now  had  ample  tiu 
form  for  battle,  and  though  our  1 
army  covered  itself  with  glory,  aftertil 
bloody  day  Clinton  was  able  to  mak« 
his  escape,  under  cov^  of  night 
Handy  Hook,  thence  to  StateD 
and  New  York. 

On  this  occasion  Washington  1 
in  uj>on  his  usual  practice  of  yidJ 
to  the  decision  of  a  council  of 
The  majority  of  the  council  he  hA 
called,  including  six  generals,  uiuiir 
Lee^s  strong  lead  in  opposition, 
disapproved  of  tlie  attJM3^k, 

A  few  lines  will  sufHco  to  did 
of  the  next  three  uneventful  y^ 
uneventful,   because    the   Britisli 
mained  the  whole  time  shut  up  h 
New  York  City,  wfiere  it  would 
been  rash  in   the  extreme 


irrni 

after  ail 

y  mftks 

iddtllf 

>f  wafti, 

lie  haii 

uiuiir 

I 

if™ 


1» 


apd  in  evvxr  thiaigt&afi 
kj  effieieftt  acaii  r^ai^A, 
After  ModUBQath.  Wj 
OBf^d  at.  Wlihe 
CWster,  sharp!  r  wace^iii:^  di«-  cnenj 
IK  Kev  York,  aa*!  veair  to  scskB'  a 
Ibv  vhenerer  sb  oppvconisj  afaiiiiiii 
*fc  In  tbe  winter  oi  177^-^  fe 
■■tiwM  il  his  fiwee  firaat 
^At  Beware,  in  an  cxesOsaBt 
^  lor  nSttj,  vkh 
PBUkbmik, 'in  rach 

him  to  Mcvie  the 
the  conntij  araaki.  aaJ  «^ 
•abHstenee. 
The  winter  of  1779-^(X.  is  whlA 
kcutooed  on  the  heights  of  MiKZfii- 
n,  was  the  coUest  that  had  thicm 
New  Yoek  Baj  waa 
but  Wathfngtnn  cooJd 
srafl  hifflscif  of  this  chance  to 
His  troops  were  destttote  of 
teing  and  hlanket%  and  pexuhing 
f*tt  cold  and  hanger :  there  was  no 
'^iaer  to  satiafj  their  long  arreaza  of 
1>^ ;  matinj  was  rile ;  an*!  there  was 
is  ton^portation,  or  meazLs  to  obtain 

In  Jane.  17S0,  Washington's  fop» 
*as  seren  thoosand  men.  The  Biit- 
iih  force  was  fourteen  thousand, 
tongij  intrenched  in  Xew  York. 

In  Jul  J.  1780.  Bochambean  arrired 
It  Newport  with  fire  thousand 
heath.  Washington  coold  not  that 
tmt  oo-opeiate  with  them,  because 
Wcher  Congress  nor  the  States  had 
^■punJtd  to  his  earnest  call  for  men 
Clinton  embarked  eight 
men  to  go  and  destroy  the 
Vnach;  hot  W^hington,  calling  in 
lithe  militia  at  hand  to  re-enforce 
im,  ittstantlr  crossed  the  Hudson  and 
toKingsbridge ;  and.  bjthus 
the  weakened  garrison, 
the  British  to  disembark  in 
mtB  aod  abniidon  their  expediticm. 


esBiuktus  aaLWftL  iLtt  ^eSffnin^  inm. 
boK  TJiiniTiif  Xi  dr^  TiiPiHamy   ttwg^ 

JLmsmEkJst  iir  a  nfULiimfi  j;:;=te:k 
'HL  y^w  Tfick.  wiuira.  'is^L  Ht'SL  itrneii 
AL  w3uL  SiKsamaeaa.  3l  ULl^  ntsfEvzr- 
«QDk.  aoii  kt  woaifl.  £•«  Gsuri^e^  wjJl 
uke  Fosmza  isttr^.  wati-  7;i  -:u-(i>fskse  aw 
wacBi  Xb»  ailiini  tsttotm  "SiHtk,  m  n 
pofiGiHL  in.  W-tsL  *Ihi^sr:ix,    rOcoiKae 

^tf    BOUT  OEC  NrtW    Tick     lav^iJIfi :    bofi 

Dl^  GsaoeV  BkiilaTt  a&  ■:i>«*i>:rjiSc^ 
wkiksn   msaie   db»   a::ae<noc    li;-c«fj«s^ 

The    ■  |»MWiiwun*i.r:.Tkii    hiDW^TVf.  £j«i    itS 

■Be  ia.  prev«ii±i3:  zbai  Btj^l.-^  from 
swhfi  ny  peHMJapaHnmia-  zo  zh^t  >tSidL^ 
as  thdj  k&i  inttHbJieiL  diie  esErirt:  of 
wkiirk  mcoist  kriTe  been  to  cxiuh 
Greeoie  saJ  his  kaojilfal  of  mnHi.  aoii 
dins  end  thie  war  in  toe  Soark. 

This  hciiLgs  is»  to  the  liut  act  of 
die  draoaa.  whidi  wm 

ronKTOwy. 

At  the  en«lot  July.  17S1.  came  two 
imp>rtAat  pieors  of  newi  Comw^jJ- 
lis  haii  LuiJed  wi:h  aa  antiT  at 
Portsmoath.  Va^.  anl  De  Gnis^  was 
to  leave  the  Wi»c  Indie*  on  the  3d 
of  August  with  twent^-dre  or  thir- 
ty ships  of  the  line,  and  a  considera- 
ble land  force. 

Washington  resolred  at  once  to 
change  the  theatre  of  operations  to 
Virginia,  where,  for  the  tirst  time,  he 
could  cope  with  the  enemy  without 
being  continually  thwartetl  by  their 
command  of  the  sea.  From  this  mo- 
ment, to  prevent  Clinton  from  re-eu- 
forcing  Cornwall  is,  he  useil  overjr 
means  to  make  him  sup|>ose  New 
York  to  be  still  the  intiMided  |H>int  of 
attack.  Carefully  concealing  his 
plan  from  his  own  officers  and  men, 
he  caused  a  large  encampment  to  bo 


200 


Washington  the  General 


marked  out,  and  a  ^reat  number  of 
ovens  to  be  built  in  New  Jersey, 
as  if  preparing  for  a  desKjent  upon 
Staten  Island, 

On  the  IDth  of  Auj^ust,  after  a 
iliowy  demonstration  on  New  York, 
he  suddenly  faced  about  and  marched 
op  the  Hudson,  which  he  crossed  at 
King^s  Ferry.  He  then  wrote  to 
,  Lafayette,  who  was  in  command  in 
Virgin ia«  and  to  De  Grasne,  to  have 
vessels  at  Elk  River  on  the  Chesa- 
peake by  Sept.  8th  to  transport  the 
combined  forces.  He  succeeded  in 
reaching  the  Delaware  before  Clin- 
ton became  aware  of  his  destination. 

We  have  no  npace  to  show  how  La- 
fayette, under  Washingtoo's  instruc- 
tions, was  taking  measures  to  cut  off 
Corawallis's  retreat  from  the  penin- 
aula  on  De  Grasse's  arrival;  how, 
wiien  De  Grasse  arrived  and  liad 
landed  thirty-three  hundred  French 
under  St.  Simon,  Com  wall  is  found 
himself  invested  by  land  and  by  sea, 
and  our  position  and  numbers  at 
Williamsburg  being  tf>o  strong  to  be 
forced,  that  he  had  efiectually  **  bot- 
tled himself  up"  at  Vorktown  ;  liow 
the  siege  was  commenced  by  the 
allied  troops  on  the  6th  of  October, 
and  ended  on  the  10th  with  the 
Burrender  of  Coniwallis  and  Ins  ar- 
my to  our  combined  force  of  sixteen 
thousand,  whereof  seven  thousand 
were  French,  five  thousand  five  hun- 
dred Con  tin  entail*,  and  three  ihousand 
five  hundred  militia. 

•*0  God!  it  is  all  over  r*  ex- 
claimed Lord  North,  on  receiving  the 
news  of  the  surrender. 

To  this  ^hort  summary  of  facts 
roust  be  added  Washington's  thor- 
ough apjjreciution,  from  first  to  last, 
of  the  importance  of  our  hohling  the 
line  of  the  Hudson,  and,  in  that  view, 
keeping  the  largest   force   he  could 


possibly  spare  in  constant 

of  the  key-points  of  that  river. 
the  same  view,  lie  took  with  him^ 
two  thousand  men  to  VirginiJi. 

All  the  important  facts  (teing ! 
in  evidence,  it  is  time  to  rendef 

THE  VERDICT. 

**  Indecision    and    timidity " 
the  sole  charge  urged  agiiin&t  Wi 
ington  by  his  enemies  and  his 
be   rivals   during   the   war.     It 
then  believed  in,  even  by  some  of  1 
friends,  and  is  still  belie%*ed   in  tft'j 
great  eiitcnt,  at  tho  present  day. 

Seen  in  the  full   light  which 
tory  now  sheds  upon  all    iL 
of  the  war,  the  only  subs  tan 
for  this  charge  appears  to  be  iii«  i 
form  practice  ot  referring  everyl 
porta nt  movement  to  the  decisis 
a  council  of  war,  to  whose  opiniool 
generally,    though    not    always, 
ferred,  however  much  it  diifered  I 
bis  own. 

The  fact  is  beyoml  question  ;j 
it  must  be  admitted  to  derogate  \ 
what  from  that  independence  of  jl(| 
ment  which  is  an  impi>rtaut  eleil 
of  generalship*      But  it  is  onlyj 
to  state,  in  explanation,  that  ilj 
gard  to  councils  of  war,   he  sM 
fol lowed  the  practice  of  the  age; 
if  he  had  been  selfishly  ambitiotitl 
would  easily  have  been  tempted 
bold  venture  of  every  thing  for 
glory  he  might  chance  to  obtain;] 
that   his    pure    and    lofty  con& 
as   a  patriot,   winch    unceasingl|] 
pressed  him  with  the  deepet>t  f«< 
of  responsibility,  forbade  him 
his  small  force,  upon  the  preser 
of  wh it'll  his  country's  cause 
to  dependj  except  in  tlie  most 
cases.     We  nmst  undoubtedly  j 
this  the  natural  modesty  of  the 
and  especially  his  conscious  vnmi  ' 
a  technical  knowledge  of  the  art  ^ 


twUeb 
>«1 


LUMAlL 

iacity 
•>t  that 

L  L»  zkoc  laahsea&r  Ti 
>Q  gxw^  saSaeaX  ptood 
aKi£t  csDtioaf  kazkdiisg  «f 
n»  to  be  luHzikd  on  reeocd* 
h  with  MeCleDu'sfaes- 
elaj  at  Yocktown  with  a 
e*i  annj  of  ooe  knikfired 
en.  azkd  calliiij^  for  fxtr 
>re:  a&d  if  W»hxikgtoa*s 
dmid  axMl  nmieeided.  mhaX 
1  famish  a  word  expigg- 
to  charactexiae  the  oo»- 
lellan? 

ow  makei  Hear  to  «■  hov 
:ame  to  be  accepted  b  j  ao 
?.  Next  to  having  aa  ef- 
.  it  was  ritallj  important 
e  enemT  beliere  him  to 
And  that  thej  actnaDj 
e  w.jold  appear  &om  their 
r  maivhe^l  oat  to  annihi- 
h  the  J  pr«>bably  mi^ht 
r  alm'>>t  any  time.  Bat 
»e  n'j  deception  of  the  ene- 
|:»i>int  withoat  deceiving 
)pl*f  aho.  Hence  often, 
y.  he  was  credited  with  a 
force  than  he  hail ;  a  de- 
it  wa:*  his  necessary  p>li- 
an :  and  thoagh  charged 
y  and  want  of  enterprise 
least  possible  groaml  he 
no  reply  without  endan- 
gantry's  cause, 
f  two  classes  of  generals 
ozn  an>i  Washington  no 
-.in  be  established.  First, 
Shermans,  and  Thomases 
ar :  inasmuch  as  they  had 
werful  armies  to  operate 
were  kept  constantly  sup- 
erery  thing  needed  for 
transportation^  and  effi- 


»1 

flf  wm. 

«f 

dlafl 
kMiMLa  ii^ 
kaoivieiise  u>f  t^  act  «f  wac 
ad  of  tke  hnsswT  «f  €am^ai^B^. 
Tite.  for  ioMCBKft.  Akxadii.itf£.4:wv. 
Hsu^aL  tiie  gnai  FniiflKk.  tke 
AzcUaks  Ckslea.  Wtfffliiatgtoa,   ad 

iciesti&e  ■  n^iiiiiriiMf  wJK&tWartrf 
wax:  soid  a  famfTTar  ft:i|nBbiitaBKi^  wick 
dfceprr^Tpalraaipayg^^aitkalWgm 
fooghA  before  dkexr  ^j.  In  otiwr 
wvwdk  tkey  were  pcofoaBoaal  soUieni^ 
which  WwhirngtoB  was  Mt.  Had  he 
poieeawd  tins  technical  kiHwledge. 
with  hit  sooad  natnrai  jwigawst^  it  is 
not  HkfilT  that  he  wooU  haTe  aovght 
to  oppose  Howe  in  fnaat  with  his 
saaO  force  behind  the  Brandywine 
and  Schayikill,  that  be  wodkl  have 
had  his  right  so  easily  tnmed  at  die 
Brandywine,  or  his  masses  corering 
to>:>  much  eroand  in  the  battle,  or  that 
he  would  have  lieen  so  easily  drawn 
away  at  the  Schuylkill  by  Howe*s  feint 
up>n  Reading. 

At  Monmouth,  too,  instead  of  com- 
mencing bis  attack  by  an  advanced 
guard,  while  his  main  body  was  three 
miles  behind,  we  think  that,  as  his 
object  was  to  strike  the  enemy  while 
in  a  formation  unfit  for  battle^  he 
should  have  acted  with  his  whole  mass 
at  once.  Lee's  attack  gave  Clinton 
the  alarm,  and  when  our  main  body 
arrived,  he  was  already  formed  for  bat- 
tle. The  Austrians'  disaster  at  Hi>- 
henlinden  may  be  traced  to  a  similar 
mistake. 

This  use  of  an  advanced  guard  was 
agreeable  to  the  traditional  rules  that 
then  prevailed ;  but  the  great  genius 
whose  campaigns  were  destined  to  il- 
lustrate the  true  principles  of  the  ait 


d 


202 


Washington  the  General 


of  war  WSL8  then  a  little  child.  The 
battle  of  German  town  was  probably 
lo«t  by  the  strict  obedience  of  Knox 
to  another  of  the  traditional  maxims 
of  the  day,  "  Kever  leave  a  fortress  in 
your  rear/* 

Of  Washington's  strategy  there  is 
not  much  to  be  said  ;  simply  became, 
apart  from  the  difficulty  of  achieving 
any  important  stmtegic  success  with 
so  small  a  force,  the  enemy  scarcely 
ever  ventured  to  take  the  field ;  and  as, 
with  their  command  of  the  water,  their 
lines  of  suppiy  and  of  re-enforcement 
could  never  be  even  threatened,  they 
rarely  gave  him  an  opportunity  of 
practicing  that  wonderful  art  which 
teaches  bow  to  win  campaigns,  some- 
times without  even  fighting  a  battle. 
When  such  an  opp<jrtunity,  however, 
was  actually  oflfered,  we  have  seen 
how  promptly  and  boldly  he  availed 
himself  of  it.  The  little  campaign 
of  Princeton  was  strategically  as 
brilliant,  though  on  a  smaller  scale,  as 
the  famous  campaign  of  Marengo; 
and  would  have  heen  as  decisive  in 
its  reiiults,  had  Washington  had  a 
force  large  eoougli  to  await  the  enemy 
at  Princeton,  and  tliere  beat  him  in 
battle,  ais  Napoleon  was  able  to  do  at 
Marengo.  The  decisive  movement  in 
l>otb  campaigns  was  the  same,  — the 
sudden  massing  of  the  principal  force 
on  the  euemy^8  rear,  thereby  threaten- 


»J 


ing  his  ooimnunicatians  with  li 
The  attack  at  Priuceton  madi 
wallis  fall  back  to  Bmnewi^ 
the  admirably  strategir  pfmti 
Washington  so  pr»imptly  tooH 
Morristown  Heights  c^mpU 
success  of  the  campaign,  by 
ling  the  enemy  to  abandon  the 
upon  Philadelphia. 

To  tlie  question,  **  What  <ii( 
ington  aocampHsh?*'  the 
that  from  177 i}  to  1781,  with  a 
ways  inferior  to  the  enemy  in  n1 
and  still  more  so  in  effirii-ncv 
ceeded  in  keeping  them  &huti 
lesand  in  prolonging  the  war 
Frendi  re-enforcements  enabli 
end  it  by  the  capture  of  thei 
pal  army;  and  that  daring 
time  the  enemy  ha<l  the  gra 
tegic  advantage  of  a  numeral 
which  gave  them  the  commaq 
the  water  communications. 

The  inference  we  venturo 
from  the  facts  stated  is  this  ; 
ing  the  results  obtained  by 
connection  witli  the  means 
control,  Washington  loses  noj 
comparison  with  the  mast  i 
commanders  in  history*;  and  i 
test  of  generalship  be  a 
of  objects,  and  the  use  of 
means  to  effect  them,  he  may 
ly  ranked  among  the  gtestX 
of  the  world- 


Six  rf  One  by  Ha^  a 


qfOe  (Mkat.        203 


SIX  OF  ONE 


HAIiF  A  DOZES  OP  THE  OTHEB. 


CHAPTER  VL 


'SmunXy  —  I  think  I  was 
lesTing  Giejfoid  witbont 
a  notice^  The  ftct  is^  if  I 
j-oo,  I  am  m&aid  I  should 
oome.  Yen  hare  great 
^r  me ;  so  much  that  I  hare 
from  iL  I  cannot  himg  m j- 
Mnit  anj  looger  to  be  treated 
sat  me,  eren  b j  one  whom  I 
r  much  as  too,  and  of  whom 
s  much  as  I  do  of  jon.  And 
that  I  was  man  enough  to 
ick  apand  go;  and  so  I  did. 
hat  I  am  here,  and  estab- 
is  right  again  that  I  should 
aboat  it.  And  still  I  am 
that  Toa  will  perhaps  be 
1,  and  will  not  care  to  know. 
,  I  am  assistant  book-keeper 
5S  Jc  Co.'s  Works.  They  do 
ids  of  mana£M;turing  in  iron, 
r  rent  parts  of  their  baiM- 
tber  with  the  use  of  steam- 
»  mechanics ;  so  that  the  fact 
ace  is  a  sort  of  paradise  to 
I  should  ever  go  to  heaven,  I 
rs  fancy  I  shall  find  my  part 
ed  np  with  all  kinds  of  ma- 
an<i  tools,  one  eternal  bozz  of 
and  belts,  and  lathes  and 
and  all  manner  of  artificers 
and  iron.  My  patron  saint 
abal  Cain,  I  goess.  I  have 
scraped  acquaintance  with  a 
e  man,  with  great,  thonghtfiil 
o  is  working  all  day,  and 
:  all  day  and  all  night  too, 
new    type  setting  and    dis- 

l 


have  seen  Eadiel  two  or  diret 
Poor  gill !  She  was  always 
so  bright  and  happy  that  I  nerer 
imagined  she  had  such  depch  and  in- 
tensity of  feeling.  And  her  mother 
had  been  iD  so  long,  and  her  hold 
on  life  was  so  Teiy  feail,  that  I 
shoold  hare  reasosfcfd  that  her  depar- 
ture would  hare  been  a  comfort  rather 
than  a  sonow.  But  all  the  way  from 
Gieyfeid  she  was  so  sad  and  sOent 
that  I  could  not  talk  to  her.  And 
when  last  evening  I  said  something 
about  her  mother,  she  trembled  so 
mnch  and  died  so  much  that  I  was 
frightened.  I  cried  a  little  toa  I 
don't  know  bat  I  ooght  to  be  ashamed 
of  it,  but  I  never  yet  saw  tears  of  real 
aofrrow  withoat  contriboting  a  few.  I 
don*t  remember  crying  on  my  own 
accoont,  either,  since  I  was  small 
enough  to  cry  at  being  whipped.  I 
don*c  know  why  it  was,  but  I  some- 
how felt  that  in  some  way  or  other, 
something  about  Mark  had  been  the 
reason  of  BacheFs  leaving  Greyford. 
And  yet  I  can't  see  why ;  for  every- 
body was  noticing  how  kind  Mark 
was,  and  how  suitable  it  would  be  if 
they  should  be  married  at  ouoe  and 
go  to  the  Squire's  to  live.  But  she 
would  not  say  a  word  about  Mark ; 
and  though  I  can't  tell  what  made 
me  know,  I  did  know,  that  she  did 
not  wish  ta  I  am  sorry  for  Mr. 
Holley.  left  alone  in  the  old  house. 
But  then  he  is  one  of  those  who  find 
a  great  deal  to  satisfy  their  minds  in 
their  business ;  so  he  will  do  very  well. 
I  have  read  this  over.  I  have  left 
out,  I  guess,  the  things  I  would  have 
likfid  best  to  say.    But,  Nettie,  I  don't 


204         Six  of  One  by  Half  a  Dozen  of  the  OOier. 


know  bow  you  woiiM  take  them.  And 
I  am   waiting  to  liear  what  you  say 
to  me.     I  suppose  I  have  every  body 'g 
ordinary  privilejj^e  to  say  tliat  I  am 
Truly  yours  —  Inweij't  I  ? 
Horace  Vaxzandt. 

THE   AXSWEIl. 

Habtforu,  Dec,  7.  1870. 

DiwiR  Horace,  —Your  letter  was 
forwarded  to  me  from  Greyfordj  and 
m  I  could  not  answer  any  sooner. 

It  wan  extremely  kind  of  you  to 
reveal  to  me  the  place  of  yoor  abode, 
in  case  I  should  be  anxious  to  know. 
I  should  be  very  proud  to  believe  that 
I  bad  so  niueh  influence  over  you  as 
you  kintlly  intimate.  But  if  yoor 
letter  can  be  relied  upon,  you  will  not 
miss  me  very  much  as  long  as  you 
can  have  a  machine  to  turn  round  and 
round. 

I  was  not  so  much  surprised  to  hear 
of  your  g<nn^  to  New  York  as  if  you 
ha^l  never  spoken  of  it  to  me.  And 
I  do  not  know  why  you  should  ima- 
gine that  I  would  have  reiuoust rated 
with  you.  You  write  us  if  I  were  a 
kind  of  evil  g«^uins  whom  yon  found  it 
necessary  to  avoid.  This  1  ai*suve  you 
ig  a  mistake.  I  am  truly  your  friend* 
But  1  hope  I  should  not  have  dis- 
tressed you  by  crying  as  Ilachel  did, 
if  you  hful  been  brave  enough  to  come 
and  tell  me  wbat  j^ou  were  going  to 
do. 

As  you  have  told  me  about  your 
mtuation,  I  8upi>o:»G  I  may  tell  you 
about  mine.  I  am  staying  with  my 
Aunt  Helen,  helping  her  keep  house, 
and  taking  lessons  in  singing  and  the 
piano,  besides  liers  in  housekeeping. 
Aunt  Helen  w.inted  me  to  eonie,  and 
Mrs.  Sylva  did  not  object,  though 
father  did. 

It  will  always  give  me  pleasure  to 
hear  from  you.  Nettie. 

P,  S»     Jetf  Fleming  is   in  Hart- 


ford now.     He  came  with  m«i 
is  real  good  company.     H»*  is « 
a  store,  and    they   say   he  In 
making  some  first-rate  speecb^fj 
the   Sons   of  Temperance. 
knew  he  was  so  smart — es 
I  always  said  he  was  bright 
quite  attentive,  which   is  veryj 
tjQ  Ids  old  friend,  all  alone  bere^ 
busy  city. 

I  am  so  glad  you  are 
poor  Kachel,     She  is  so  good 
only    wonder  she    should   no 
comfort     When  you  »ee  her  j 
my  best  love. 

You  will,  perhaps,  be  int 
hear  that  Mark  Hinsdale  boa  j 
Boston  to  live,  and  that  Jan©  j 
has   gone    there   too.     I  Joo't 
exactly  what  they  are  doing;  hi 
doubt   Rachel  will  hear  twm 
and  tell  you  all  about     JcflF 
has  not  beard  yet,  except  tlw 
is    visiting  her  sister,    Mrs, 
and  is  having  a  kind  of  liuliili 
Li  as  if  a  mine  had  expbjded  ^ 
six,  and  flung   us  helter-skeltt 
ways  for  Sundays.     I  supjiuaeJ 
all  be  right*  however;  fates 
served  out  to  us,  I  guess,  at  I 
of  about  six  to  the  baU-doseQ.  j 
will  be  just  right :  a  fate  aj>i( 

Now,    the    intelligent    rea 
have  observed  that  these  two 
were  like  the  stories  of  for 
enchantments    drear,    which 
speaks  of,  — 
"  Where  more  if  memit  than  mtrtii 

They  afibrded  no  bad  speciu 
fact,  of  topics  which  shmo  bj 
absence.     Horace  did   not  lell 
that  he  was  grieved  by  her 
or  sorry  for  hi,^  own.     Nor  didj 
tell  any  thing  of  the  kind  ta  J 
Like  two  Yankees,  as  they      -ttui 
were  talking  about  the  ^^  • 


SixofOmeiyHalfaDozmoftkeOAer.    .    205 


m,  huitfmd  of  eommg  n^t 
tbeir  baigiin. 

e's  l^ler  did  not  mxpam 
laKticolari jy  fo  he  bad  often 
>  lier  of  bis  aeheinfls  of  far- 
be  made  intheeitj;  botben 
ewbmt  fltartle  bim,  and  it  an- 
im  tooL  But  it  was  bis  ovn 
T  be  bad  wiitteii,  in  bis  dia- 

a  stiffisband  ratber  piesam- 
^r,  to  tell  tbe  tratb.    Wbat 

bad  be  to  aasome  tbat  it 
b  a  migbtj  concern  of  beis 

be  left  GieTfixd  or  not  ? 
n  tbe  innoei^o^  twice  orei^ 

must  i«ofen  a  deep  interest 
;oing»-<m  or  dbe  be  wouldn't 
nd  about  tbem !  It  was  not 
ndicioas  pece  of  diplomac/y 

lad  told  tbe  wbole  troth,  bow- 
tead  of  telling  not  bal^  bat 
1  <^  it,  so  to  speaky  it  would 
m  stin  less  jndicioos ;  tbat  is^ 
sapponng  tbat  Master  Hot- 
intended  to  propitiate.  Bat 
Qg  gentleman  had  thought  fit 
i9l  from  Nettie  a  still  more 
expression  of  that  emotional 
ij  which  be  had  described, 
lat  which  he  did  mention. 
rt  is,  that,  quite  carried  away 
'  Bachel's  tears,  Horace  had 
ng  quietly  pat  his  arm  roand 
i  kissed  her, — on  the  fore- 
mean,  in  a  beantifoUy  brc^h- 
sy;  and  the  poor  girl,  ner- 
fcd  flattered,  did  not  think  of 

bort,  thoogh  Horace  was  not 
cooflcioas  of  it,  bis  letter  was 
d  irritating,  well  calculated  to 
i  Nettie,  wbo^  whatever  she 
«  in  tbe  depths  of  her  nature, 
sufficiently  high-spirited  and 
dent  pnss^  little  disposed  to 
led  aboot  by  anybody.  The 
if  tU%  indeed,  bad  already 


eome  to  pass  befixe  Hocaee  wn^btf 
ahboogb  be  knew  nothing  of  it ;  and 
not  mistnisting  any  sndi  state  of 
tbingi^  Ibis  it  was  idiidi  starded  bim 


One  fine  day,  tiien,  a  dioKt  time 
after  tbe  erening  of  tbe  dance  at 
North  Denmark,  Dr.  Sylra  broo^t 
borne  tbe  newt  of  Horace's  departure^ 
with  a  good  deal  of  perturbation  in 
bis  kindly  old  heart  as  to  its  bearings 
open  bis  daag^ta^s  lu^ipineaB.  He 
gare  it  first  to  bis  wife,  along  with 
an  open  letter,  and  be  requested  tbe 
good  lady  to  transfer  tbe  two  to  Net- 
tie; for  be  bad  a  ragne  idea  tbat 
where  there's  any  tiling  oneomforta- 
ble,  women  sboold  be  dealt  with  by 
women.     N.  B.  Ifs  a  great  mistake ! 

Mrs.  Sylra  was  little  hampered  by 
considemtims  like  these  about  either 
bapfnness  or  circumspection;  being 
one  of  tbose  weO-meaning  and  thick- 
skinned  persons  who  bhirt  right  oot 
whaterer  occurs  to  tbem  to  say, 
and  lo(^  with  the  most  honest  sur- 
prise at  any  one  who  talks  about  hurt- 
ing people's  feelings.  She  marched 
straightway  to  the  foot  of  the  stairs, 
and  bawled  out,  — 

"Nettie!  Nettie!  here's  Horace 
Vanzandt  he's  gone  to  New  York 
long  with  Bachel  HoUey,  n'  here's  a 
letter  for  you  f  m   Hartford  I " 

Nettie,  busy  in  her  own  room,  felt 
her  heart  give  a  jump,  and  then  it 
sank  with  that  painful  lost  feeling 
that  sudden  bad  news  brings.  But 
as  she  was  alone,  nobody  saw  her ; 
and  she  turned  first  pale  and  then 
red;  and  the  tears  filled  her  eyes, 
and  she  succeeded  in  preventing  them 
from  running  over ;  and  it  was  with 
a  delay  scarcely  perceptible  that  she 
ran  down  stairs  and  received  the  let- 
ter, answering  her  step-mother  s  com- 
munication very  composedly  with, — 

^  Well,  Horace  Vanzandt  has  been 


206 


Six  of  One  by  Half  a  Dozen  of  the  Other. 


talking  long  enough  about  going,  and 
it's  time  he  went,  I'm  sure ! " 

She  very  soon  road  her  aunt's  let- 
ter, and  rery  promptly  accepted  its 
invitation,  much  against  the  wishes 
of  the  worthy  doctor.  But  Nettie  ar- 
gued w*.!i  much  hriskness  and  force 
thiit  til  is  was  exactly  the  occasion  she 
had  been  waiting  for  to  take  some  fin- 
ishing les^^ns  in  singing  and  on  the 
piano,  and  moreover  in  the  ways  of 
the  **  Old  Hartford  Housekeepers;" 
a  generation  of  ancient  dames  who 
are  traditionally  reported  to  have 
possessed  mightysecrets  of  the  kitc:h- 
en  and  of  the  pantry,  as  efficacious 
in  their  way  as  those  Runic  rhymes 
which  could  cleave  mountains  and 
shiver  good  steel  swords. 

We  vs'ill,  however,  let  her  get  to  Hart^ 
ford  by  heraelfi  — it  is  a  safe  and  easy 
journey,  ^  while  we  communicate  to 
the  reader  the  experiences,  indispen- 
sable  to  the  understanding  of  the  re- 
main tier  of  our  tale^  of  Horace  and 
Rachel  in  New  York, 

In  doing  sojot  usi  ingenuously  con- 
fess tljat  we  are  sternly  repressing  and 
causing  to  get  him  behind  us,  a  mis- 
chievuns  teraptiition,  - — a  very  Satan 
of  a  temptation.  This  is,  to  abuse  the 
power  of  our  transitory  command  of 
the  st^ijry,  and  just  actually  take  three 
or  foiir  of  the  characters  and  give 
them  —  not  fits  exjvctly,  which  is  not 
an  elegant  complaint  —  but  some  gen- 
teel disorder,  such  as  a  railn^ad  collis- 
ion or  the  like,  and  put  them  quickly 
and  comfortably  out  of  the  world.  It 
would  be  so  very  funny  to  see  the 
next  writer'^  contortions  in  trying  to 
mantifa<rturo  the  bricks  for  that  part  of 
the  edifice  of  the  story  without  any 
etraw  heroes  an<l  heroines. 

But  it  wouldn't  be  right,  and  I  con- 
scientiously forbear. 


A  great  city  is  a  great  solitude. 


Within  it,  little  settlemenU 
here  and  there>  as  in  a  new  ( 
of  those  who  are  neighbon 
tion,  and  who  do  or  may  i 
quaintances  or  friends  by  inh 
Sometimes  these   are   estahlii 
some    group   of  houses 
apart  from  each  other ; 
whole  is  included  under  one  j 
the  nests  of  the  sociable  grofl 
that  we  used  to  read   aboot 
natural  history, 

Tiiese    single-roof    birds'-DO 
sometimes  found  in  boardiagd 
and  it  happened  that  our  two  ( 
ticut    young   folks    drifted  in* 
where,  for  the  time  being  at  1 
the  birds  in  their  little  nesta 
For  it  is  too  often  that  we  ae*i 
shameful  sight  (we  beg  good 
Watts's  pardon  for  imbedding  < 
his  **  inspired  poems,"  as  s> 
ing  divine  calls  them,  into  * 
prose)of  all  the  children  of  ^ 
ly  failing  out  and  chiding  au . 

People  in  the  city,  again,  and  I 
in   the   city,   are   like   those  in 
country,  with  the    effects   of 
and   excit'ement   superadded, 
are    **  fired   up"    very   hi'jh 
sharp  stimulus  of  their  pn 
the  further  stimulus  of  the  com^ 
tion  which  makes  every  day  a  1 

—  not  merely  a  struggle,  hut  a  1 

—  for  life.     They  are  uiaguetiicijj 
each   by  all   the   others.     At 
from  miles  away  on  the  T  ' 
down  the  Bay,  you  can  ^ 

red  glare  that  caps  the  whole  fl4 
great  city  like  a  low-lying  11 
cloud  brooding  down  upon  il»  i 
is  the  generalized  result  and  rutBi 
der  of  the  millions  of  lights  thil| 
burning  there,  and  that  fill  all  thw 
above  them  with  this  red  n 
Exactly  such  a  lurid,  dim,  hot  gloij 
mental  and  physical  exci 
cessantly  broods  over  the 


SmmfOm  If  Ho^  m  Ikatm  €f  At  O&bt. 


it.  MsB  J  cf  llie 
bode  vUcb  wmn  snhad  to 
s  would  forTBDons  raapcms 
Qtrstod  mud  TC^enfovoed  tiiis 
ftzid  tki«  dangcK.  £re9i  as 
'T  did  not  escape  entirelT 
It  happened  ihmt  certain 
mg  iaftnoieefty  togedter 
resisting  qualities  as  the 
persons  poooeoood  within 
.    sared    them    from    any 

adiel  who  had  told  Horaoe 

ok  ioT  his  citj  home. 

»  Mrs.  Wozhoiae's  with  me," 

i.     ^  I  shall  go  there;  and, 

i*t  like,  then  you  can  go 

a  little  while." 

rent.     No  danger  that  he 

awaj!  Poor  Mrs.  Wor- 
er  difficulty  was,  that  she 
lake  people  go  away.     As 

staid  in  New  York  he 
the  plamp,  laaghing,  cry- 
rarted  motherly  haby  of  a 
id  if  he  were  to  live  there 
he   would   never  have 


going  away, 


nor  for  ten 
Indeed,  Jim  Fellows, 
rter,  who  was  staying  there 
e,  nsed  to  shock  the  two 
arders,  Miss  Doddle  and 
y,  every  little  while,  by 
the  piano-forte  in  the  par- 
ty parody  on  a  good  Meth- 
meeting  hymn :  — 

e  been  hoe  ten  thwuand  years, 
g;  jaat  like  fnn, 
r  aoaer  will  eat  more  diniier 
he'd  jost  begun. 

mdiy  be  bankrapt,  dame,'' 
ddaaj.    ^Ko  human  be- 


307 


a|>mdialilea(»at»b» 
such  care  of  hoaxdecs  «Ei  yon  de  md 
not  he  mined.^ 

And  Ms.  Woffhoi»  wo«ld  hmi* 
hear  jolhr,  mnsical  langk  m  cheearr  «s 
a  at^HNdgiri^a.  d«!i3|Hte  her  fifty  yiaw 
and  widowhood,  and  say,  oh«  she 
gneamd  not! 

^  Bnt  yon  know  yon  wili**  peiw- 
Tend  the  teasang  youth,  on  one  of 
these  (K-casions,  not  long  after  Kaohel 
and  Horace  had  enliaiited  under  her 
banner:  ^hf»w  mnch  does  that 
pompous  old  Judge  De  Foorest  o«w 
you  now?  Four  hondred  aad  fifty 
dollars,  isn't  it  ?  '^ 

^  I  do  wish  he  would  do  something 
§ar  mtj^  said  Mrs.  WoIhois^  «that  s 
a  &ct.  He  promises  to  pay  half  next 
Saturday,  thongk" 

^Mrs.  Worboise,"  said  Fdlows, 
lifting  his  forefinger  at  the  landlady 
in  a  stem  and  awftil  manner,  ^  now 
answer  me  a  straight  qnestioii,  npon 
your  oonscienoe  and  hcm<».  Hasn^ 
he  made  you  that  very  promise  every 
week  for  three  months  ?  —  what  ?  " 

Poor  Mrs.  Worboise  blushed  as  rosy 
as  the  evening  clouds.  She  had  one 
of  those  very  fine,  clear-tinted,  trans- 
parent skins  that  never  grow  muddy 
nor  rough,  and  her  cheeks  were  as 
smooth  as  a  plump  little  girl's,  and 
she  blushed  as  easily.  Besides,  she 
was  caught  Fellows,  a  very  perspi- 
cacious personage,  had  hit  upon  the 
exact  nature  of  the  Judge's  financial 
relations  with  Mrs.  Worboise:  they 
had  caused  the  poor  landlady  many  a 
secret  tear,  and  many  an  unconcealed 
one  too,  for  that  matter ;  for  she  cried 
at  least  as  easily  as  she  laughed.  She 
laughed  now ;  but  there  was  a  percep- 
tible uneasiness  in  the  laugh,  and  she 
said,  with  an  effort,  — 

"Well,  Mr.  Fellows,  if  all  my 
boarders  were  as  honest  and  regular 
as   yon   are,  in   spite  of  all   your 


i 


208 


Six  of  One  &y  Balf  a  Dozen  of  the   Other. 


nsiughty  words,  I  should  get   along 
very  well." 

"  Naughty  words,  indeed  I  "  re- 
sponded the  young  gentleman  with  a 
mighty  affectatiun  of  anger,  "  I  defy 
you  to  refer  to  a  single  improper  ex- 
presi^ioa." 

"But  you  are  very  irreverent,  l^Ir* 
Fellows ! '' 

•'  That's  only  hecause  I  always  say 
my  prayers  in  secret,  dame," — ^he 
almost  always  called  her  dame. 
**  And  you  do  take  cheating  so  easily, 
that  it*s  evident  it's  what  you  are  for. 
It*8  a  great  shame  tliat  I  don't  cheat 
you  ;  so  it  is.  Do  you  know,  Mis. 
Worboi^^e,"  he  continued,  suddenly 
cimnging  his  tone  to  one  of  embar- 
rassment, "  I  am  greatly  troubled  to 
raise  some  money  to-day.  Could  you 
sibly  let  me  have  fifty  dollars  un- 
til Saturday  ?  It  would  save  me 
from  real  distress/ ' 

**  Why*  yes  indt'itd,  you  dear  hoy  !  " 
cried  out  Mrs,  Worboise;  and  the 
tears  stood  in  her  great  soft  brown 
eyes,  ready  to  run  over  at  his  trouble  ; 
''  and  more  too.  Here/*  —  and  she 
drew  out  a  potket-book,  "  But  re- 
uiemher  Saturday  ;  for  indeed  I  must 
have  it  then :  I  liave  promised  it  on 
the  rent ;  and  Vm  sadly  behind.*' 

She  was  earjerly  counting  out  the 
bill^;  but  FelK>W8  burst  out  laughing, 
whereat  she  looked  up  in  the  most 
innocent  surprise  imaginable,  and 
saw  that  she  was  deluded, 

"Ohj  that's  a  shame  I  "  she  said. 
"  You  biwi  man  ! " 

**  Yes,**  said  the  reporter  gravely, 
**  no  doubt  yott  think  so.  That's 
just  like  a  woman.  But  if  you 
thought  some  of  your  money  had 
heen  a  great  hilp  to  me,  nothing 
would  make  you  think  me  bad,'' 

^*  Now,  stop  I  *'  said  the  landlady* 
•*  Go  along.  You  know  how  much  I 
like  you.     But  I  want  Kachel  to  help 


me  now  about  some  sei 
must  go  away/' 

CHAPTER 

The    winter    weeks 
away,  their  days  and  eveni 

ed  full  and  over- full  of  dui 
pleasures,  all  acting  with  st 
stimulus  upon  the  clean  an 
but  rural  and  inexperience 
of  Horace  and  RacheL  1 
both  of  them  finely  organil 
tally  as  well  as  physically,  | 
ly  awake  to  whatever  was  sA 
and  sensitively  tmpressib 
Horace,  moreover,  poss«si 
more  executive  ability  —  i 
getic  good  sense  —  thaa 
usual  or  to  be  expect«id  of  f 
have  the  gift  of  iuvenU'oD. 
ou  her  part,  had  more  of  & 
faculties  which  make  a  i 
than  would  havp  been  exp< 
woman,  and  particularly  ( 
very  delicately  fibred  and  u 
troverted  mental  habits 
excessively  spiritualizing  tei 

As  for  Horace,  he  was  p 
occupied  by  his  book-ke<'pi 
own  eftbrts  at  ijiventi, 
course  of  study  whidi 
he  was  pursuing^  in  thft 
natural  philosophy  and  in  t| 
of  mechanics  and  inventioj 
he  had  a  superabounding  fh 
and  spirits  \  and  it  was  witl^ 
eagerness  and  curiosity  uml 
joyment  that  he  accepted  al 
suggestions  from  master  Jiu 
to  go  and  see,  or  go  and  het 
and  another  of  the  multifarifl 
and  occurrences  that  a  citj 
has  to  huut  up,  or  witness^  q 

Rachel's  situation  was  I 
to  his,  perhaps,  as  a  youa| 
could  be  under  tho  circt 
She  had  uot,  it  is  true,  such 
and   peremptory   and    legv 


six  of  One  hy  HaJf  a  Dozd  of  tM  Cr}uisr         i  ? 

*    to  driTe  ber.  a?  rh.**  Tr.i-ria  ±j-b:'-iM- E.-^T»^r ?     _fr  —  :r    w   .  ■_ 

1  H'-rac*  to  ataijJ  xz  a  d-rr-k  iri  rh-r  TSfl.   7::-T  i«>  i-  ii*  i-i-    r_i-r    *:•:.- 

"i:-r   am-i  mike  erztrir*  •-:■  -zl^^z^-  ^ifr  trirTr^  '"4-*."  "■"  •"■  -    **-  '     r-...-   ^ 

Fact,  rvpnmai-i  fpr.in  a  «--r^  *-n5-  -.■sb^.c  ::.  *!  '.-^r  tl^-:;-u.  ■_-  ^-      ■     --.r. 

Kiabir  anu  •.^.■mf-rraMj  j*i :  >H-r.  t  .:_i    --"--r   Li».-r     :■■•:.-.    ■..^..     -    :.  r 

■n   j'liciiz  worQrn    do  rurr-  «i-L  -h  "•.•r*^   f  r   t.;*-    *-r"'i  .-^^i  t-     Lirr     j'-r— ir 

Tnal  lorct^  iJx'UT  tr.rrni-  '^b«»T  trt:*  ^iuL-r-    t    :l    :;-r    (--r.-"   -       ?£  -u':*-. 

It  If  readDj.  p-riiapft.  into  "rria-t  'w-Li-rr  "..u:  •:j«f*f.  -j**-..-  .  t:.-  -r  :ml 

ailed  -  ba*inr-ir  ?.ib its.*"  »ff.  T-:.:ii;£  *.'-r:ji«i-^  ^  '•-^■::.  -.--r--   ■  •^•r.-.T.j. 

i:  bat  tb*T  ^^^d'-m  riave  lir^L.  Lu*- -:.--_  ih-'j-.i-r:    ■■  .-  :.u-..  i-     -■.  jm*- 

be  «"is  D-i-TQ.:  :_st'  y  =:A.k:  rLT  a  v-^i-  nis^ir  '.••tii.u-: :: ..       .i*. .-.  l*:^  v ■  • . .  ■ ; :     .^^  -..: 

>Tiatto  Mrs.  W.--r>..i=»e.  irr--  wti*  v  k  T-»c:_r  .--^  .-   »    ''''ii*.    r   .    .  ..- 

it    mar    be    <*aljrr'i    a    r.t"f-ii.^nL*  riwt  ■^::n*»r  ^i*?* >'■"*-.   lu-i  u  ^i-.'.   .*ru    •-* 

I  i«,  3£zs.  ^V...rt*'»:s*'  "^'tut  i.ajiJ-a*f?T>!r  *•  — t^.w  liiirr::'"^  .i    :.-t      •••i*-   'li-^r--"!  !•> 

quK  HoiI*T :  s^-  T?.at  if  «b*-  bac  il  'ii*:   '!'i*:rH*-     ?■*  ".oj*-    nr.*.::**.  •■   r— 

a  -iaTiztstex.  ?ncb  dAnztittr  wjiirc  •:'«-*^r*?'-  ^'!l  -liir  -*r*:r*r:jii-  ■:r^^  «'*i..«:i 

t  beeii  £acbei'«  bjL!f-<»oas3.  :  ::b*r  bac  .«n*rrini*'  :i*-^a.T  ij^t^ai'r.u*:^    '.►ni:i. 

prri»  Va^x-rr<  g  i^  t^iTPmnr    nr_."«"  'ilt*  Srir    -»^2ai,  aT      iTi':»-    '       3T              •::.  -f:!. 

Bad   of   rwo.    C'lit   of  t"rj*-:r   r-i^T  irrx  ]Crh    "^^  )^mi:h^    w-:i-     ::in.   -.Arw 

idpareniH-         j*ti'.-b    3»iLarj'»iiiiL-pp  ""^rvLr^*  cr  k  JTr.--    ,u.-  :::«-, i-     r^-f>^ 

the  mogr  ecoT»MLi*r.t  el  tb*-  w  aiL  :-7~>»nar..     -liiiC     -iii*-      wu*.       r-,**;*:'-    - 

dwT  azid   e.«T;t-t.    or   pB2»-:.T    ani  «iji,Tr»^'-  tt:  -•'^  'u-  -r.: —r^.i^  w -. -^    •:•  .^ 

d.  are  tr«ier  a  T^-mArtiijup   'rnr-  dB;»^— ^tii-ni    iutiht- ::'•?:*..•■.       *■  .«     :ii:^^ 

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tTi.."*-    t"\-.r  r^iS'rr*    wii:     --»r.  :  j^     u"*-:.  ."      -!•'".    -'■....     •••■-...    ..-.'. 

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■dj  tblLCr    .'f   n;;."^.:-r  U  V  >n-.  r".a...— .     a:; .'■       ..-     .— •  .'..:..:.•     . 

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*afc?Hi^    •■T-T      c     •:'-r*;umfr:aii*:»-r.  •^:""    ..:;    :..'    ;:"    -  .^    .     .  •'  ->'     .i  .• 

ii**r  uT^n.  "It*-  Tiu:itf«-  oni.  '.—-*,    ..    *'..;:  .^—-   vr-..i  ,-         :,..    v. 


210 


Six  of  One  hy  Half  a  Dozen  of  tJie  Other. 


wa«  already  a  pretty  good  workwoman 
on  the  sewing-tnachtDe,  and  i^he  at 
once  assumed  the  whole  charge  of  all 
such  matters  for  Mrs*  Worboise  h«r- 
aelf,  greatly  ligh timing  the  toils  of 
thatovertoiuled  and  hardworking  lady, 
lodeefl,  it  was  really  only  fair  for  her 
to  insist  npon  remitting  to  Rachel 
the  money  which  the  latter  tendered 
her  at  the  end  of  a  three-months'  so- 
joum,  a^ide  from  the  fact  that  said 
sojourn  was  nominally  a  visit* 

Then  there  were  lectures  or  con- 
certs or  sights  of  some  kind  evety 
evening.  Then  Miss  K^hel  had  a 
course  of  rea^Jing  too,  no  less  than 
Horace ;  though  it  was  one  which  some 
would  judge  not  so  usefiiL  Indeeil,  that 
practical  young  gentleman  grumbled 
a  little  in  a  careful  manner,  —  for 
somehow  he  found  himself  very  cau- 
tious about  expres^jiag  any  opposition 
to  Eachers  more  peculiar  peculiarities 
—  at  the  books  she  devoured  so  very 
eagerly.  So  would  most  of  us  per- 
haps. Yet  after  all,  it  is  pretty  often 
true  that  the  reading  which  we  enjoy 
most  does  us  most  good.  At  any  rate, 
other  reading  does  not  usually  do  us 
much  good,  for  us  a  ally  we  won't  read 
it  Rachel  read  eagerly  ft  number  of 
biographies  and  other  works  by  and 
about  mediaeval  and  other  mysticists; 
Jacob  Hnehmen,  Madame  Guyon, 
and  80  forth.  She  worked  through  a 
good  deal  of  Sweden borg.  She  tried 
a  good  many  Spiritualist  publications, 
but  could  not  manage  more  than  two 
or  three  of  them  ;  and  she  read  indus- 
triously at  a  number  of  religious  and 
serious  periodicals  which  came  to  the 
house*  And  lastly,  she  adopted  a 
shrewd  suggestion  of  Horace's  own. 
He,  being  a  bit  of  a  philosopher, 
though  t*3  tell  the  truth  his  dealings 
with  Nettie  did  not  always  seem  en- 
tirely philosophical,  had  a  little  theory 
about  the  faculties  which    constitute 


inventiveness;  and  he  urged  Bi 
to  try  and  see  whetlier  the  same 
rect  eye  and  hand  that  eiii&Med 
to  fit  a  waist  so  accurately,  ■» 
judge  m  unerringly  of  sizes  aad 
portions  in  cutting  patterns  and  < 
omizing  materials,  wouhl  not  i 
her  in  goo*i  stead  in  learniiig  dai 
tive  dei*ign. 

He  had  judged  truly.  Til* 
suggestion  of  the  Free  School  of 
sign  at  Gx>per  Union  made  h«r  t\ 
flush  with  delight.  She  went 
returned  Iiome  from  her  first  a£t 
ance  in  a  high  state  of  pli'SAii 
excitement*  Thesuperintcndeat 
she  reported,  that  she  did  C4ipit 
and  she  worked  away,  first  ivith 
ies  and  so  on,  until  she  had  oUM 
the  handling  of  her  pencil,  atjd 
with  constantly  growing  plea&ai 
doing  real  work  *'from  the  m 
and  from  original  subjects;  ii 
pursuance  of  another  m&e  flo 
tion  of  Horace's  she  began  thep 
to  make  herself  acquainted  as  HI 
she  could  with  the  history  of  bei 
avocation,  findmg  endless  pleasa 
it;  most  of  all,  by  the  w»v 
out  those  numberless  con  J 
interminglings  of  ornament  and 
gion  which  snow  such  a  nec^^sai] 
son  between  the  instinct  of  b 
and  the  instinct  of  worship. 

In  all  these  pursuits  of  K&O 
she  was  greatly  aided  and  abeiW 
a  Mrs.  Erling,  who  was  boardil 
the  house.  Her  husband  was8| 
—  which  is  not  always  the  csiM 
ladies^  husbands  in  New  York,*^ 
he  was  hanlly  seen  in  the  hail 
all.  He  was  an  under-sised,  blM 
looking,  dried-apple  sort  of 
managing  clerk  in  a  l&rge 
very  busy  indeed,  and,  sool 
about  as  little  fitted  to 
his  yoke-fellow  along  the 
which  she  preferred,  as  coul 


Six  of  One  by  Half  a  Dozen  of  the  Other.        211 


low^ever,   like  a  man    of   sense, 

the  best  of  it,  let  her  have  her 

»j,  ao«i  derote<i  himi^elf  wholly 

a&tis.     He  hardlj  said  a 

I  bvoilrfiwl,  shot  o6r  a$  soon  as 

?«  arifj  was  never  seea  again 

next  morning  by  anybotly 

|wife,  ttnlesa  he  chaaeed  to  be 

with  about  twelve  o*cIo<*k  by 

I  Mated  inmate,  who  dlseovere*! 

Ituiobtrasively  entering  by  means 

tsig{it-keyy  or  silently  gliding 
m  like  an  nncommonly  short, 
irk-complextoned  gbo^ 
I  Tig,  boweveF|  waa  strange- 
ilmnt  from  him.  She  waa  a 
md  abxio^C  trani^lucent  looking 
ttft.  ptill  joctng,  with  a  singularly 
Iwmi.  etherral  face*  exceeding  del- 
|a»  iBttfJiiie,  very  fair,  witli  won- 
limpid,  toU  eyes,  which  were 
dark  for  one  all  whose 
bjaical  traits  imported  wliite- 
iwUdl  therefore  impressed 
\  Ihi  iileA  that  they  belonged 
^ooe  elie. 

eveiy  way  such  a  person 
mf  iuicy  one    of   Bar^jn 
cVs  **  aen«itive«  *■  to  have 
wiihtmt  the  positive  sick* 
iUach  memmM  to  have  been   part 
Qal  outfit.     Without 
aj   a  ••Spiritualist,'*   this 
profoundly  interest* 
ity  well  read,  in  the  histo- 
ka»  no   philosophy  yet  —  of 
*  ghoatly  invasion  (to  ad- 
its own  claims) 
quarter  of  a  century 
,  that  name,  and  also 
range  of  reading  on  related 
tnclailing  the    mystics  al- 
o^   remote    inquiries 
r  heietics  and  hereti- 
Qftoctka   and  Manichean», 
,  the  purer  heathen  reli- 
sod  ao  on.     Kachel  was 
to  the  wondering 


part  of  religions  experiences^  and  of 
cottTBe  found  herself  very  ready  to 
fdlow  Mrs.  Erling  tbn>ugh  her  spirit- 
ual old  curiosity  shop. 

At  tbe  same  time,  her  whole  reli- 
gions training,  and  the  naturally*  ele- 
vated tone  of  her  oim  thoughts,  kept 
her  awake  to  the  immeai^nrably  supe- 
rior purity,  grandeur^  and  wonderful- 
ness  of  Christianity.  Thus,  she  was 
in  no  great  danger  from  her  forays 
into  wonderland^  thoug}i  you  could 
nerer  have  thought  it,  to  listen  to  the 
heart-breaking  lament^ons  of  Mi« 
Doddle  and  Mrs,  Pogey,  who  were 
morally  oertmn,  and  indeed  stated  in 
so  many  words,  that  Satan  was  evi- 
dently lying  in  wait  for  the  young 
girl,  and  greatly  desiring  to  have  her, 
that  he  might  sift  her  as  wheat. 

While  time  fled  rapidly  as  afore- 
said#  other  matters,  without  exactly 
fleeing,  just  went  on  as  usual.  Any 
of  Mrs.  Worboise's  guests  who  chose, 
cheated  her;  and  there  were  too 
many  who  did.  Among  these  was 
old  Judge  De  Forest,  who  was  a  dis- 
graceful old  humbugs  not  to  put  too 
fine  a  point  up>n  it.  He,  as  well  as 
Horace,  was  an  inventor,  but  of  what, 
nobody  seemed  distinctly  to  know. 
He  was  a  large,  portl_v,  red-faced 
man,  very  oily  and  voluble  of  speech, 
habitually  talking  of  such  asitronomi- 
cal  sounding  totals  as  mil  I  ions  of 
dollars,  very  energetic  in  wordy  advo- 
cacy of  all  manner  of  what  are  called 
"  advanced  and  reformatory  "  views ; 
and  he  wort?  a  frill  to  his  shirt,  chewed 
agooddealof  tobai'co  in  a  rat  her  juicy 
way,  and  walked  with  a  gold-heailed 
cane.  He  had  some  place  or  places 
which  he  called  **of  business,"  and 
he  usually  %vent  to  them.  He 
spent  a  gcKKl  deal  of  time,  however, 
in  his  room,  —  he  had  one  of  the 
best  rooms  in  the  house ,  —  at  work  at 
what  seemed  like  mechanical  draw- 


212        Six  of  One  by  Half  a  Doun  of  Os  Other. 


ing,  with  a  big  board,  great  sheets  of 
white  pap^Tr  penclbt  and  things ;  but 
at  aof  bint^  feepecting  the  said  em- 
plonnt-Dt,  he  purstnl  up  his  mattth 
wtlh  great  dignity,  and  assumed  an 
air  u(  haughty  reserve  quite  wc>nderfiil 
to  i»ee,  on  I J  intimating  that  it  was 
impossible  to  didcuisfi  the  higher  se* 
cretA  of  science  with  ordinary  folks, 

Xaturally  enough,  living  so  near 
togt?ther,  and  with  bo  much  that  was 
in  common  in  their  ways  of  thinking, 
Horace  and  Rachel  became  more  and 
more  intimate,  and  more  confiden- 
tial and  unreserved  in  exchanging 
thuughts,  liacheFs  unvarying  sweet- 
ness of  temper,  and  her  uncunscious 
onworldliness,  difiused  around  her  an 
atmmphere  of  rest  which  was  exquis- 
itely deliglitful  to  the  yonng  man, 
worried  and  as  it  were  storm-tossed 
beyond  expression  as  he  had  so  often 
been  with  the  turbulent  unreasonable- 
ness of  Nettie  Bylva.  His  corre- 
spondence with  this  latter  yonng  lady, 
as  may  have  been  conjectured^  had 
much  the  qualities  after  which  Mas- 
ter Slender  aspired  in  his  proposed 
marriage  relation  with  Mjss  Anne 
Page;  there  was  no  groat  love  in  the 
bi'ginniug  (of  the  correspondence^  of 
course),  and  it  pleased  Heaven  to  de- 
creaiie  it  upon  better  acquaintance. 
It  dwindled  rapidly ;  and  indeed  quick- 
ly became  practically  extinct,  yet  with- 
out either  amicable  exijlanatiou  or  un- 
kind word.  The  fact  is,  like  the 
seed  in  the  parable,  because  it  had  no 
root,  it  withered  away. 

So  Horace  waited  on  Rachel  when- 
ever she  wanted  an  escort^  and  spent 
very  many  pheasant  hours  in  reading  or 
talking  with  her  in  the  parlor  or  in 
Mrs,  Worboise's  own  neat  little  sit- 
ting-room* She  was  as  glad  of  his 
company  as  he  was  of  hers;  and  he 
found  a  new  and  keen  pleasure  in  see- 
ing the  dainty  tact  with  which  she 


Fellaws  or  horn  the  Jud^  i 
oonversaiion^iiiale 
shelter  heiseKf  Uftler  tbF  wing  i 
Hoiace.  Afterflome  imitov 
in  such  entefpcis» 
dilemmas  which  woiilcl  hare 
either  direct  fiba  or  ofwii 
Miss  Bachel  btitboogbt 
device  that  is  old  eodogli,  nife  J 
but  which  HonMse  liappgtrf  1 
have  thought  uT;  and  it  gwi  1 
degree  of  pliMkSQFe  wlioee 
priiied  himseH  Pcs^aiptt  1 
human  bliss  mor 
that  of  him  to  whora  a  lovety  \ 
uncon^oQsly  reveals  that  i 
him.  What  Kachel 
engagement  Xot  thai, 
other  sort  It  was  a  st 
engagement  as  escort ;  eo 
might  always  say  with  truth  ! 
had  to  go  with  him. 

CHAPTER  Vm 
Dm  space  permit,  I  should 
trace  pretty  fidly  the  exper 
the  year  which   Horace  and 
thus  spent  in  Now  York  Gty, 
were  many  and  significant;  fori 
so  short  a  period  as  a  year,  ( 
which    we   live   broad,    is    e? 
equal  to  a  long  one  during* wbid 
live  narrow,  even  on  the  pnncip 
board  me  figure,       Mr.  Tennj 
said  very  much  the  same  thh 
his  terse  maxim  of  comparatlTtJ 
nology  al»out  **  fifty  years  of  Hif 
and  **  a  cycle  of  Cathay,** 
is  impossible,  however;  it  we 
book.     The  winter  passed, 
spring   came  J    witli    itd    abon 
Elthy  streets,  and  the  uprising  I 
of  all  the  evil  smells  that  de6 
greatest  city.     Dirtier-fifty  ye 
New  York  than  a  cycle   of  Ca 
I  really  believe.     But  the  litt 
of  pilgrims  at  Mra.  Worboise*«  1 


oT  Ome  ijf  BiOr  a  Iham  trf  &f  OAnr. 


21S 


lE9t    U'   '^^**^'    IrlHli    TZ>    SUV* 

anr  sBcIft  of  ^w-mp   wen 

:  x>j  ^M-  OBBi  sue  sBcIk  of 

B«:  lai*^  OMaaaadan^  of  liup 

L    VBCMBZLPT   CCT    1^011     oftcil 

n-  T2»fr  xiriM-  txansaaut  12UB 
r  -Jtib.  -^  iMPw  uiuiunnsa.  n\* 

't^  mx.  ranmiMu  pas:  in  liie 


T&  Fast   Lee  snd 

«f   ^^    Pali- 

XD  liiff  beicitti  of 

fee  disBsasied  dd  cireular 
^  UFver  irf*  Fort  RiciiiBcmd 

oc^king  raeasdr  down  upon 
0005  modero  wmSKtAmxxxry 
MUBecimn  tbej  went  over  to 
jd;  or  rambled  mlong  the 
the  TicinitT  of  Fort  Haznil- 
Migh  the  bemades  of  the  sea- 
reabouts.  and  on  Staten  Is- 
velL  mre  too  often  profaned 
ed  bj  the  smd  rem&ins  of 
:anct  horse  or  dog,  greatly 
re  of  all  rmnance.  And  the 
Park  waa  alwajs  open;  a 
Arenthesifl  of  sweet  air  and 
le  nature  let  in  among  the 
i  atone,  wholesome  and  re- 
M  a  cool  sleep  between  hot, 
vs  ;  Rachel  and  Mrs.  Erling 
rlj  used  to  pass  many  a  de- 
balf-daj  there;  sometimes 
liall  and  the  Lake  and  the 
f  above  it,  sometimes  in  the 
ented  and  quieter  regions  at 
em  part  of  the  Park. 

or  qoMiten  of  the  completed 
t  by;  the  cool  nights  of  the 
of  August  foretold  the  com- 


isfr  of  cno!  daTf^  m  SmmWr.  a7>4 
JL  dne  time  Uic  cno«  dayf  atam^  It 
an  ooie  of  these  daT»  tiia;  HamriK 
cxmin^  doi«m  tr>  fanaktan  v^  h^^ium. 
diwnffnied  unon  the  pluamin  ftwy-  of 
lifef-  landladT.  oMnnw^  and  unnsasallr 
diKUgsTmfr  izane^^  of  wmiinfr.  By  t>t:s 
ijmt  Haiaa»-  had  e«uiKh«l»ed  himM'lf 
TcsT  Aivxi|rlT  in  th^  afiiKOioD^  of  Mrs.. 
JK'arnoamb.  who  indeed  had  come  to 
lean  man  him  mT  much  as  a  widow 
doeiF  upon  her  grown-up  ivm.  She 
wa^  iond  of  Jim  Fellows^  ismk  fat  The 
endiew^  Tmcarie^  and  qnipf^  of  thai 
aaher  &ntasnc  penon  had  a  cnriowi 
&acinazion  for  her.  But  ebe  wa$ 
ndMr  afimid  of  him«  or  at  k«M  <ihe 
never  fek  quite  nure  abiMit  him; 
while  the  more  delical*  tart  and 
more  les^iectful  kindne«k  of  Hora«^ 
had  drawn  her  Terr  near  to  him.  It 
was  therefore  neithex  impeitinent  nor 
inquisitiTe  for  him  to  beckon  her 
away  from  the  hreakfost-table  a  mo* 
ment.  before  he  departed  to  hi»  biis> 
nesE^  and  when  sht^  had  acc^^mpanicsl 
him  into  the  parlor,  to  ask  her  pUin^ 
ly  what  was  the  matter. 

The  poor  little  la^ly  sat  down  on 
the  sofik  and  spoke.  Horace  wast  af« 
fected  by  her  grief«  for.  as  he  sHid 
himself,  he  could  scarcely  help  orv- 
ing,  tall,  strong  fellow  as  he  wiws 
when  he  saw  the  tears  of  anothor ; 
and  yet  he  could  not  help  a  sonso  of 
the  ludicrous  as  Mrs.  WorK>iso  uAd 
her  little  story,  her  larj?o  m>ft  cy<»s 
looking  straight  into  his,  and  tlio 
tears  coming  out  one  after  anoth<»r 
close  to  her  little  pink  nose,  and  pur* 
suing  each  other  down  her  soil  ohiM*ks 
until  they  fell  into  her  lap,  while  ko 
easily  and  fluently  did  she  cry,  thut 
not  a  single  sob  interfered  with  her 
speech. 

"  0  Horace !  I  don*t  know  what  I 
shall  do.  I  c^n't  get  any  money  frotn 
Mr.  De  Forest ;  and  be  owes  !»•  all  by 


214         Six  of  One  hy  Half  a  Dozen  of  the  Other. 


himself  eDough  to  pay  almost  a  quar- 
ter's rent.  And  the  landlord  aajB  be 
won't  wait  anj'  longer ;  and  if  1  don^t 
pay  uj)  in  fiill  by  the  first  of  October, 
and  a  month  in  advance  besides,  he 
must  have  all  my  furniture  as  secu- 
rity, and  I  must  leave  the  house  on 
the  first  of  November  too.  I  suppose 
he  ought  to  have  his  money;  but 
it*8  very  hard!  I  don't  think  he 
ought  to  take  away  every  thing  I 
have  in  the  world  I  '* 

Now,  Horace  was  what  you  may 
call  a  natural  husband.  That  ig,  he 
had  plenty  of  sense  and  energy, 
abundance  of  sympathy^  and  the 
proper  tact  of  a  man ;  which  is,  in 
cases  like  this,  rather  to  support  with 
fit  encouragement  than  to  add  grief 
to  grief, 

**  It's  a  great  shame,  Mrs.  Wor- 
boise.  But  now,  don't  you  feel  bad 
until  to-morrow,  at  any  rate.  I  have 
something  in  tny  mind  that  will  very 
likely  help  you.  So  cheer  up,  and 
keep  up  your  courage.  Well  see 
you  safe  through,  Providence  permit- 
ting.'^ 

A  little  of  this  sort  of  general  en- 
couragement went  a  great  way  with 
such  a  facile  and  happy  disposition. 
It  was  only  a  few  moments  before 
Hrs.  Worboise  felt  a  great  deal  I>etter. 

**  There,"  she  said,  drying  lier  eyes, 
"I'm  only  a  baby,  after  all  It's 
very  good  of  you,  dear,  to  comfort  me 
up :  I  won*t  feel  bad  any  more,  at  least 
until  you  tell  me  I  may.  So  now 
run  away  to  your  work/* 

Horace  had  an  idea,  it  is  true ;  one 
that  he  had  considered  a  good  many 
times f  but  if  he  had  told  Mrs.  Wor- 
boise  whut  it  was,  it  would  not  have 
cheered  her  much,  I  fear.  It  does 
not  sound  like  any  thing  very  won- 
derful, —  it  was  to  see  whether  Jim 
Fellows  comdn't  be  of  some  use. 

Bat  tbjA  wfts  by  no  means  so  small 


a  resource   as  you   may  thii 
Kew  York  u-  r  rep 

is  smart  and  and  wh 

call  a  rising  man,  and  partic 
he  is  gifted  with  a  small  qu 
wickedness  for  extreme  cases,  i 
a  good  deal,    Horace  a 
down    the    street   tog^ 
often  did,  and  Horace  opened  i 
ject  to  him, 

•*  Why,  ray  son,"  respotid^^ 
'*  IVe  been  honing  up  the  sva 
jui^tice  for  that  old  pig*s 
two  months.    Honor  bright^  is  j 
tell  you  ?  " 

**  Honor  bright,"  said  Ho 
"Well,  then;  you  know 
the  dame  now,  after  what  4eu 
tie  he  has  ever  paid,  P^^/ 
thousand  dollars.  IVe 
it  some  myself — .you've  notk 
I  grew  thin  and  didn't 
thing?" 

**  Ko,"  said  Horaoe  promptlyj 
»  All  right *'  (with  a  grin);  «| 
had  a  notion  three  months 
the  old  villain  could  pay  if  he  I 
and  IVe  invested  a  little    mo 
fi.nd  out ;  and  IVe  found  oat.  | 
had  him  shadowed  from  time  I 
ever  siuce,  but  I've  not  got  qn 
the  facts  I  want  yet.     Am  to  : 
man  this   very   day;   will   ha^ 
whole   for  you    by  tea-time. 
while  keep  dark  I  " 

"  All  right.   But,  Jim,  do  yo 
what  is  it  that  the  old  fellow  is  j 

**No,    Not  my  line/' 
"  WeD,  I  do.     He's  been 
a  little  job  of  iron  work  at 
and  he  ordered  some  more 
low  that  I  happen  to  know; 
seen  through  that  part  of  hia  j 
anyhow.     It's  a  perpetual  ma 
Jim,     though   no    mecha 
enough    of  general  informi 
general   incredulity  togetW 


Six  of  One  6y  JBaJf  a  Dozen  of  the  OCnt 


^^•j 


)fm  lan&rh  as  ea^r  b«  Horace  Lim- 

Clfaz  this  idea. 
"Wby.""  resamed  Jim.  -I  thooirli. 
those  DotioDS  were  dead.*' 
I  "  Bj  DO  mtrsuis :  men  artr  at  work  at 
Mch  !iiachiD««  all  the  t:me.  I  kiit^w 
IKe  mvatlL  dowii  in  XartL  Grrerf  jrd. 
tmt  1  wonder  Judge  De  ForeiC  fltiouiu 
k»  fuch  a  fooL  He*E  a  swiiidier.  I 
lon't  doubt :  but  I  don't  Mfe  how  he 
aan  swindle  an  \-l»fidT  rtar  dtejiir  wi:L 
i^ch  a  U*ld  impcf&iriou  as  rhib. 

*-  Bat  I  do.  thcmgh !  **  said  JizL. 
^  'Whv.  Horace  don't  too  see  ?  3s  o. 
r*>3'*::'i:  J  on  don't  know  the  man 
^'f  FWTiidlinc.  WelL  it'L  he  aaie 
t^OQg^  now.  HO  III  tell  ron  &  Imie 
^OR.  and  rem  can  pnt  that  and  uhut 
^^Rher.  I  didn't  know  exairijr  what 
kit  machizMr  was».  but  I  knew  he  war- 
Bcstine  up  a  maiThme.  And  he  hut- 
hteai  rereiTine  monev  to  pay  fur  it.  — 
tod  a  goc«d  deal  too.  —  &  go<fd  d*ttL, 
feOR  than  ii«  neceMUT.  br  the  Bum^ 
tekesL  and  that'h  iuts:  where  th** 
bi(e#ei  ;>]d  !4';£b3ij»  mt;;.^^  t-  kl^t  uowl 
fcinrie /•«'Tt.Vi//i<  lor  Linihfi:." 

-  We",  but  how  c:aL  vol  wort  liiiL 
■ii*  tt'd  •  Mnu  Woro'jiwe  ai:j  et^iol  '  ' 

-  O'l  !  vou  juiit  jeart  your  crnuiO' 
&:her  ali  aione  i-»riLut.  I've  cru:  n:y 
tttie  planf  pretty  near  b  iii'jujt  nov.  I 
tx:*rr>-d  :o  toucL  hiujoii  hool  ;  iiur  nr 
j*K  x^y  you  jiromihed  tc-  vjuiUtrz  tii*: 
iajitT  by  lb  IB  ev*;ii:ng.  1  ruetifr  wt 
OL  aret  the  bcenery  ready  ii.  H^anoi. 
We!:,  ht-re  we  art.  Hr-*-i-:  '."  ano 
L-  irrr^red  an  awiu!  yeL,  mur  (m-  ':h*'y 
^ir-ij*ri  the  comer  of  lirf^auwu.^  u: 
viiJcL  two  younc  ladiefc  /us:  i**'i'irv 
tfacsa  ;anip»^d  and  bt|u»:ai«(i  :l  b  v»-r« 
Arji^tfui  manu<fr.  and  tii»-  oiniiinii.- 
ferer.  who  wa^  the  iientuL  iu:»;u(j*ru. 
iKMad  r  jund  at  once.  thoucL  he  v  at 
kftif  a  hi  ick  away. 

^Soe  th«re  .'"  uuid  Jim  :  'm  niwiL 
far  a  pi-g'^  whiiipttr :  Hhcir  hil  6yin{;. 
B^t  abd     itsft.      Willi  —  Hu  nMer- 


voir ! "     And    he  durtf  tl  u£    i«-t-iiiE      ^^ 
Horace  n   rrr  a:iou*  Li.-  :nia:brr« 

At  t'ue  o«rtkniiii2-iiiiu-i*  tiir  n.^ur?- 
went  OL  iiut  nt:a-i  7  .  i!»r  tn-  Mirer- 
fuine*  wui-jL  Huni::*-  i.uu  ii^^Mr-f- 
did  ntr  very  ionr  a-u:.  Jklrh  '^•r- 
iioine  acaiuff:  tii^  .-•''•tuc  i:i':rtMuii' 
weixrir  of  ii«r  mon*-;  -rriiUiMTit  1l 
the  uf;»:mtMjL  rfiit  '^^wUrrL.  L.a';ii*i.  n 
come  anc  61:  whl  u*^t  il  iifr  r^jn. 
lla':nel.  ar  reiu'Tv^  tri^nu  auL  i.-?  ii#^ 
iiad  cri'WL  ti  i»^  -v**!.  'ji.^-jr  ;•  "u*: 
jonetHimi  and  ii'vuifc--ii»rLi-;»jL  i:*::!*- 
widow  tuaL  Hun*'.-*-  .  •Uijn^z.  '.ua'  ir. 
IL  thij«e  ei:Iia::^•r^  »j'  *;rur.ioua 
eriiTebriioL  anc  s^u*:ini*;u*  vu.-.-l  i^ir 
want  a:'nu.4oan<L-:  iiu.-4ouudiT?^  vnioiei. 
niurit  he  iaiL  tt  trauma* r  wizl  •sa^rL 
o:n*;r.  mur.'r:  zu^"  are  U:?':r>^ur»-h  :oi»-s 
wil!  havf  s-r-rrvr- .  and  r'  •.••miuj.'a 
hou'ir  fruuntr  i**-.  zu^ir  .4i;i*:iu.  ;ii*' 
iiunor  tif  zif-  n^iz  niu^r  j**f?~/t 

I  n-fU  Uir  r^iiTiviu':e  :»j-  u*;Uii>»-  «/ 
th^ir  UiffT' )ur9^     :ii*-  aain^    iij»r:k-fruOi*-       ^^ 
iait.     ".lit:    uj;ii'rT»fL     iur*     v-i:i.     -ru*-       ^ 

ruzr  .iii'ir*  :ii-  :i:r*ra(..  '>  «.  ■.'»-;  <a 
r»*m  ir-^i-"-  •  tv  n-r'  i:;ici.ir)  .  -jr 
nuiUT-iuo-  III-  :i.rra'i.  u  .  ■■-  ciu' 
I  Uli.  '.-•milir*-'^^'.  .••  iii'rrr  ;  iw,.?i,'  *- 
in:<    a   .?i*iii.iiii—    •;     r-?.iii:-.       f  f     .iii- 

tir.^*      *ini».      *^.r.       '•      1* :/•!,.«•      «;i»i   ■»-v»*;'. 

T»iiiiii.'    :ii*  ii»i;/^»T*.    i.av*  -i     ii-v  tmi. 
n^w     afiajr.         ■>■      •.•iiili'i>;i;   ...i      iia': 
*ii»fir    r*;ia:i«iii.     i>^*?i.     :»;«      ,1...     ii:;-.v 

h»t*-ll.      rt  Li  "1 J  7i.-!.l  I :,  •••?■        ".u*:-.  •        lunvi' 

UrV'ki-.-    :/•     ••illf    ;,4.»     '.11,11;      .'      •;'U.l»:.i. 
anu   V  ::i     .>lr..     V    f^i^^^,.v     .»...     v  a.     :: 

Vi^-     aJA-'iiir.*:  •      ni'=iri«i>''.«Tir     ;•.      !•• 
jn>rri<.     r»;.iii*iii.M'.ii.r.i»:.     »i'     Uiv     ji**.-!- 
OU*  viiU'   V  iK   v*»-.«.    .Ill*    .^air    !i'    )f"«. 

ii»;r  :iirx;i-ur».  —  :  rrj*-. •;.»•: im:'  *.  'i-ik 
o:  ixiyiir.  *-Wn.  '.iniij.'aii'.  1  •  i-  1  »  ii'jfi;*) 
U«iliari^-  i»?*^.  o!  ';"iu-.*«.  ui  .ni;**i»".aii» 
fi»rau':*.ioL  I«ir  v.»;a'  ai*'-  j^-.h'  c-if'J  vf 
being    •urii'rt:  uu:  u!    si**:  ou^^   hoiu*?        M 


216         Six  of  One  by  Ualf  a  Dozm  of  Oie  Other. 


she  had,  without  a  cent  or  a  shel- 
ter. 

It  was  a  sufficiently  melancholy 
picture,  indeed;  and  as  nsual^  Mrs, 
Worboise  cried  as  she  drew  it.  There 
was  pretty  sure  to  be  water  in  all 
her  landscapes.  Rachel  proceeded  to 
pretty  nearly  repeat  Horace's  raorn- 
ing  course  of  tonics.  She  ventured, 
indeed,  a  step  farther  than  he  had 
done;  for  she  took  the  liberty  of  re- 
provijtg  her  aunt,  in  a  small  feminine 
way,  for  not  finding  more  comfort 
under  her  difficulties  iu  her  religion, 
—  a  sort  of  thing  in  reproofs  very 
commonly  to  be  observed  in  tho^e 
youthful  gootl  folks  who  have  not  yet 
suflered  any  of  the  chronic  and  weai*- 
ing  afflictions  wliich  draw  most  heav- 
ily upon  the  religious  constitutiou. 
After  tliey  have  thus  suflered^  how- 
ever, they  find  out  what  a  labor  it  is 
to  be  happy  by  any  means  whatever, 
in  circumstances  which  conatitnte  un- 
happiness.  But  Mrs.  Worboise  had 
no  disposition  t^  answer  iu  this  sense. 
She  was  very  meek,  andconfessed(with 
tears)  that  it  was  wrong ;  but  that  it 
was  one  of  those  times  when  every 
thing  in  the  world  seemed  to  he  against 
her.        • 

However,  after  a  reasonable  allow- 
ance of  such  healthful  moral  exer- 
cises, the  two  women  grew  a  little 
more  cheerful  together,  and  then  tliey 
fell  to  comparing  of  personal  expe- 
riences; for  nothing  is  so  certain  to 
bring  out  confidences,  as  confiding 
something.  Here  there  came  to  the 
light  mighty  secrets,  whereof,  how- 
ever, we  shall  refer  to  only  two. 

Mrs.  Worboise  hinted  that  she  had 
expected  Rachel  would  be  at  once 
Mark  Hinsdale's  wife  and  her  father*s 
housekeeper  J  in  reply  to  which 
Rachelt  in  a  quiet,  serious  way,  inti- 
mated that  perhaps  it  might  laave 
been  so,  but  that  Mark  had  greatly 


distressed  her,  and.  she  thoag 
wrong,  in  pressing  her  a^  can 
he  did  to  marry  him  while  fc 
was  so  fresh  at  her  mother < 
and  that  in  eonsequeuce  the  i 
of  their  feelings  about  v»A 
hail  quite  changed.  Then  M 
boise  intimated  further  iltat 
Horace,  &c.  To  whi<di  tba 
Rachel  only  said.  —  burdly  I 
autl  with  proper  ami  .vccumt^ 
in  utterance,  —  that  he  hiwla 
her,  —  a  very  safe  answer* 
Mrs.  Worboise  replied  thnt  h 
to,  —  she  knew  it,  she  sriid,  — i 
a  thought  too  much  emphasij 
verb ;  upon  whicii  Miss  Km 
terously  turned  the  con  verbal 
t^ilked  away  famously  aboil 
Worboise, 

But  whether  or  not  they  ( 
other  any  oiher  gooil,  at  any  i 
got  rid  of  nearly  all  the  ai 
insomuch  that  before  they  h 
was  time  to  get  ready  for  t«sai 

CHAPTER  IX- 
Tea  came,  and  the  boardj 
to  tea.  Nothing  has  been 
this  history,  iiB  nothing  wa4 
—  and  there  was  no  room 
thing  hivl  been,  —  about  the  l 
file  of  this  noble  army.  Sa( 
observe,  that  they  filled  a  pr 
table  in  the  hirge  basement 
room,  which  had  been  carrlei^ 
into  the  original  kitchen  of  it 
that  having,  in  its  turn*  bd€ 
out  into  an  addition  built  u 
of  the  back  yard.  Judge  I 
was  present  with  his  trill] 
dignity ;  Miss  Doddle  and 
gey  were  there  with  their  sej 
improving  observations, — wl 
til  at  it  is  out  of  the  qui 
transfer  a  seasoning  at  least 
discourse  into  these  com|i 
frivolous  pages  1  —  £tu:hel  \i 


Six  of  One  by  Half  a  Dfiz^n    :f  im  O^Sijgr.         '117 

I  Honce,  and    'Sirs.    Erlinz.  aa^i  — iH  r-njn**- lp.i:  ^nrniw  nr--.iii'-   Z'*r 

I  Feilowa.  the  soan'iaiizir:^  ;e:kM.  liawta.  "«;  ;iirt  if  -Ji •:>»<*  ^iiunci-  '     ri..s'^ 

msed  to  Tex  che  ri-zhzvj-is  3*.»:1**  :d:»*  iiiili-r.    vw  i    j'''t*:'.ii::iL:i-:i.i-:* 
base  two  sain  tij  women. :.  J  *-:ir:Lrt     L*i  7:11  icii.'v  -jar.  jija.   ~~  r.«  ■.—  * 

.  Worboiae,  an-i  :•-•  Am:^.'!!*  Eui«:iitl  Si    ?:!ii;    :f   4*:iin':if   "«:»!.-    !»•    i.  v  *  •> 

Hora«%  and  him.^^lrl  w-':j   i-rrl--  k:-*?;r     x    x^r     ;r      -.-u      :■•     ^.-.^.^     -i 

en  oI>*riTat:*^CL*,    wlikh     *«rirzi'tti  -fTiiiril  i::  il.ir  .:!>::  urir:  I  :a  :n    -vm  :i -i:  i. 

Jlv  irreven^at  a:  dr»: :  ''j^z  »'j  '.Ii  Vi-ii»*ii  .:..4  -'-r7   -.tij+r  *«*•■    t    Ti.-^-* 

war*  defen«L--i  ia  *'i:'i  x  ri-m.-^*?  .iu-T.*r  -  —  ■  zua.ifU  ±**.in   H.ia»*.     -  ii 

»  oanfoui^'i.  if  n:r   :». Q^-:i':»f.  Lid  kii'-'v.  " 

nent-s,  who  at  lis:  ■:ac:i«*  ••:  ithac        TiPti  i»* 'j.i.»r*-:  u*l".h?*--  -ii-  t'lt..*. 

mo&tlv  w;:h   th:*:   ti^vilij.*  *..r:  ^*-«:   n't*  **i»-!n.:.7  ._i::'";-:r    •  .t 

n-ier  consiJerari'a  ■srli.b.  A  p:-.-  l-:r.  r.    Li«:    r-r.-LL  ii-L   -1;  -  :•*    v.- 

eams   to    ai*;»iaj   in.    n-if-iix    ii  -T:':,:".  'i*.'v  v.ini'r.  .n  -,:.*  iiv, 

ng  to  :ho  eCT-yie::^  Li  iTirl:*  ::i.?^;*.  i::-^    •:;.;.     ir.-:    .i«ii*^:    a-r-.?-*    v     .     i, 

y   izitr-i-drioel    trii-s    •rTr-::!;^    "i  :r:«  ^r  sir-' ■'r*  l.".-.  :»^':i7  .»f- .'ii-.  *  .• 
Worwiff*  a  qufr:  an-i  rv-ATtnrrA-        "-Zi:^;;^,'  .:>i!*-^:  ■#"  x.  v  -.:  i  v  ..  j. 

•>kiE^  yn.an-  wriom  h-*  ruju-ni  -i.^  "•  'J.i.  t-;  iiiii.^v  l  ".i..-:^  .r  "v  .  .r;i.  _  • 

Crafia  :    a  r-rreaffioaal  Ai'iru..:.:-  y .  h -7 o*!:.^    .f^v-»**r.   ±".'m:-.  .r  ii.r-. 

he    ob^^rvei.   wL.jci    hr    Ljui  2' i"  ::iL.i7  :%-u«;i'-  v  ^t,-  Z   v  l    r     ■.:     . 

the  liOfrtj  ot  InvitiL.^  w  *~p  si'        _L.'. 7   *i:i;.:«^-<  ±-.«:i    //  /.•    :•   vn- 

■^:Tr»i    Mr.    t.'ri:'t:».    an-i    *r::irrii        X'.«*    in:    :'T-'.'r4    iw*    rr-y    -t 

.-it  J; 3.  w::h  her  worteii  k:--i-  ^'^''^  '«'  "  -  -•-i  •"7  v:-i.- 1   i/.-.  .   r   ■  • 
ir-r-j:  t li •:■  a jh  H:ri.:e  .ill  1   rli/-         ■  ^L"     J-      v..*     ■..-    •■.■■.;.•:'•. 

r'l^ -iisTn^zri:  WL-h  her  :?•';'•>:*.  i...  o--r.:'r  :■.   --  .-.'  -.■.-.   .  .- 

it'^r  h^'T  bravelj  ^I*e  -*:r.T-  -.j  -:.-.t5    ;.".';■"-  ;     ■'   ;  »:.•     ■.-••■i     .. 

:  ri.ra: -I ■-••«■& o?ir  •'.■:' rhe  "JF  AT '::.:-r  rir.      - -■* "    *-*•'?     ...  »■;:'»-.». *"..i..  -.    ■  • 

d  ■i^::es      Aii'i  r':-^  ^i-ii.^- ir -[,  ■:  :-;u   r.i.tr    ;  .■.    .\.i' -.    •*'."•.   ..      -  \ 

w-r^  *erTe*L  aii-i  :Ii-rr  "vin  (!!:.*-'  ".:■.•■.  r  ."  —>    '-   '  .•:.•  ■..**-:  .''  '-    ... 

ii*isin:rT  and  iafijri:.rr  iff  •:.- "^iJ.  '.■.-.•: r.'.    •.  _*.      :    ■:    ir-.    •.;•.•*  i 

":iA:iky'-..afor:he:.:a.--eii':.i:±-i  ."  -it..-,  j -...-;•■.•:■-.--.  r-.  •  • 
Tr'i  M^iat^r  Jim  to  h:.-*  ?;.!./-'i-'.-.A        .7  ,.     .•-.-•.  v.i  ■■.■ 

p./eirT.    ■"!>«■  a- ifr:^  Thinr. ".:'  :i:'^7  ^--.■.  i  r.  .u"\  .  .-..  :'-  ::.im  r  ■  .  -..r     • .  ^  r 

ksev    ii.  to   b^  yr-leii  5*j  af'rr  :-. — 

R  dracL  —  haj.'"  - -'•:'..■-.    •..:-!ti.      .■■  .-  .i.t-'". 

H-  P->2h:7  crrriane'i  and  ^L-xi  'aer  l-  7. .  .-r  t  ^     .»■  ;    .  .    -.■.■..'    ..    .- 

.  aid  aiijwer^L  —  -.-«?-     .-i....  r£  . .-  .•  .-..' 
llr.    FrIIowa.  if  we   *:n  -iri^i'-'^i:        "  -  ■     '      '  --    ^'■•-     ^■-  -  ■ -■  I 

:  iizLt  we  *hali  no  doi:\t  n-i  i  f  ir^.-:  v    :-"•..•■■  Ar.-'    fi.^. 
if-i  f*r*  awairiaziL*  at'-.tr  ir::LrL."        I.-.:-.—-   ■-•-:  ■     .- :   . 

li^ht'^'"  rrplieii  Jirii,  a.*    r.\^e?-  '.'.'■. v  l  •■.-;-:..    •     .".•-•-.     ..  ,.   • 

V  if  the  y»i  liiij  h.i»i  1-1-:-:  *  .r-.  .i^  -    i*   :.  .    --:    *  u-.  :  .'  --  :..  .- 

K>«t  h'-mon'ica  *Tizr»r*t:->r.  :.-i  "./.e  i:-rT.-,    j*---'-!-.      7    -.•.    *.  '.../.     *.    •> 

1  —  -Mrht?     0>ii>h  aia'*:  ail:■^'l  :-  -'7  j.-.- ^  ^''.  ■..■■•'. -.--^ii^  .   *■    .•    ./:» 

do.    HcftT  in  acoGatio*.  cli-j'i  zL-  J:.i*  r -:..■ :  *  a'  ?  tr^* ...-. i:  :■.;:. :   h »?  h '■: .•  1 


[T^ 


218        Six  of  One  hy  Half  a  Dozen  of  the  Other. 


I 


tti  tm  liftfd  MB  he  isould.     HoniceH,  ai^em- 

ir*g  to  uij'i'  '  ii 

fitlrutly  ;  :i     ,  , 

Vjo,  smiled ;  a  ktud  of  grun  siuilei 
tiiut  intituatrd  amn«?nient  rather  than 
»uq»n8e.  But  the  blaak,  iueffable 
a^t<>uudiiieiit  of  all  the  r^st  can 
h*u%il}*  be  dreamed.  As  for  tbt»  Judge, 
nothing  can  do  justice  to  hi«  buaring 
except^  (K'rhapa^  a  horrid  picture  that 
1  unco  biiw'  of  a  monstrous  old  binou 
bi-mg  worried  to  death  by  a  gJUJg  of 
prairie  wnlFes;  biinded,  blei^dtng  at 
a  hundred  wounds,  hefpfess  to  ri^ach 
or  to  escape  hit»  agile  atbisailants,  re- 
ai^^tiiig,  ineieed,  only  in  the  Vik»t  inas^ 
of  his  i»law  enduring  vitality.  So  the 
heavy  old  judge^  thus  beseti  fitill 
mainUuned  hn»  pom|K>ua  manner; 
though  a  rery  close  ob.^crver  might 
have  noticed  even  a  kind  of  tremor 
during  the  impromptu  observations 
af  the  high-voiced  Iridy;  and  there 
assuredly  waa  a  shade  of  uncertain- 
ty in  hid  toneis  when  ho  resp>nded, 
and  he  would  not  hx>k  towards  the 
hnly  afore^iid,  who  had  jumped  up 
wheu  »he  began  her  apostrophe,  and 
remained  standing.  AU  the  rest 
could  thus  perceive  that  she  was 
oldish^  til  in,  and  indeed  skinny; 
pale  and  worried-lookingi  with  thin 
lip«,  a  cross  expression,  a  peaked^ 
red-tipiM^l  nose,  scanty  hair,  and  a 
Fhabby  old  dress.  Perhaps  if  they 
h.ul  knuvvn  her  as  well  a^j  the  Judge^ 
they  would  not  have  looked  at  her 
any  more  than  he  did.  She  certain* 
ly  was  not  pretty  to  see,  as  she  stood 
there  qiiivoring  with  nervous  excite- 
ment, and  her  little,  pale,  watery 
eyes  looking  venomo.isly  at  the  au- 
gust oljject  of  her  ire.  The  Judge 
arose,  and  it  was  to  Mrs.  Worboise 
that  he  spake  :  — 

*'  Jladaiu,  I  have  been  grossly  in- 
sulted at  your  table.  I  shall  with- 
draw, mudam.   I  am  by  no  means  ac- 


customed to  such  treiktniAiitt  i 
not  put  up  with  it,  n 

And,  pushing    bat  ^ 
left  the    room  witliout   ait#i 
t\\vi  embanussed  apology  vti 
Worboisk;  began    to  offer.    I 
fore  the  do«jr  closed  liehiiid  t 
frame    of    the    Judge  hawp 
Crafts   arose  with  much  nil 
and,  without  a  word  of  apolc^ 
planation,  darted  out  after  hi 
and  Horace  fallowed. 
liberately.     Mrs.  Hir 
All  the  rest  of  the  boarders  1 
each  other  in  a  stunned  $ort 
and  exchanged  ejcpressions  <^ 
in  l«jw  tones. 

In  a  moment  Jim  looket 
asked   Mrs.    Worboise    to 
enough  to  step  into  tl)e  paHa 
ment.     She  did  9o^  and  foun( 
happy  Judge  again  at  bay. 
"O  Mr,   Fellows  1  prn^ 
what  does  it  all  meau?^ 
out,  in  a  terrible  state  of  flut 
''Just  what  I  aaked  vuu 
for,'-  observed  he.     **  But  td 
We  11  tiniish  our  oegotiatioafl 
ment.     What   is   the   whok 
due  you  from  Huggiu*?" 
''  You  mean  Judge   De 
asked  Mrs.  Worboi^  timidly 
**Ko  more  a  judge  than 
madam,**  broke  in  Crafts  eei 
ly.      •*  Ephraim    Uuggins 
Louis,  State  of  Mizzoorah,  sp 
With  a  good  deal  of  di^ 
good  iady,  at  Jnn's  reiterated 
and  with  wide,  scared  eyee^ 
to  get  enough  of  her  wits  tO| 
&x  on  the  correct  sum  total, 
ehort  of  nine  hundred  dollars, 
summarily  said,  **  Well  ca! 
round   sum;  little  enougb 
est;"  and  he  scribbled  a 
full,  and  laid  it  before  Mnk  1 
saying,  — 
**  Sign  that,  pi 


Ax  of  One  by  Half  a  LozeTi  c/  zm  O^er.        Zi '. 

at^  —  she      began,     naimailj        Er»a.    Hj;r:mij    xnT>*air>'i    '•    i-^ 

n  nghr.  marrn-"  said  Crara.  Ir   xi*.   -ii.-r=-:' r*    acr— i    -.;j«     ji_-. 

(i«\  Mrs.  W.:>rbi>iae."'     A:i«i  ahe  pjeru-iri;!   ■u^n     a    x-*:   :..::j     .r -r    '  .♦- 

.  like  one  in  -Jk  -ii^ajn.  -{ani:)**ri   ij  JLr.  'E.  .zz^.'.r.    i.    .-^ai-j-    : 

lepp."  sai'i  Jim  :  " iThe^rk 5nr :3iiir  *iiiir     i^r'-^     vuiiiKLui.-ii     T'lf.'n       i*- 

E.  Hjg^zias.  if  v")a  Trleaee.**  *— m*-:  ■.■  -pv  ri. 

kke    him-   Craris.'"   said    Jiai;  zr*  '.7  -TA*:'^. ' 

ron'c   hare   ;&  pdrricle   of   ana-         •  "^  «t  ^  3ifnn»-'::.  '  -rtuM  r^  Ti*-^.  — 

r*  now  show-ii  az«:  r«»ai:  la   ar-  m*--.:    1,  ^  -•rri*--.    •   .-r, .       .:-.  .•■..:^ 

MPSsi '"/r.  i-.-harr^  -f  ■^^'jiillnj;.  -»3:v-u--ji*-i   -ill,      *    .*-. .    -1.    •.. 
*•!  out  i^.  behalf  :f  .n»^  ^Lir—Jt-         -f-jr**-^  j-^'i«,-':    ,!■.:.  ^:,.     ..-..  ••;  • 

"UT"*.  a:    heariz;!    "hji    Oiiaif-  str  i  »r-i    -,  .-^  •     .J.  .    '..-...... 

-r*!  a   r-r«rny   iar'~    lurji.    la'i  Jfc-  jE^.-jimj   .•,-,..*-   ,..-    ... 
r  a  wori  s>:k     »ir  1    j*;:   oir        -LH-:.    -'_.  '   .>..  ■    •    i:.    ■  «-     ■   •*•■- 

•S««"»i.   -ir"^  nrai     :r   i    ".ilj^±:  "ii::ii:.:,j     i:.:    »*•— -i-Ti-       •■  "  .  ■■. - 

il.^*  i  a*:«i 'jLrie'i -"- iii<ipiii"!i*T'i  .••*.!    -.:::.      •     1  •    ■  -i      ...-• 

rh»* 'ibiii-  -ik:    omIi       •  •?     .J.'       •     '. .       li ■ -• 

r'u"  .^aiii  JiiQ.  TUii    r«^     r  a  ^   :-    :.^:.i:.   *;r     ..•-  .•:  - 

!".   -  T"  trh^r  'Hii.:,  riizz:".^     '  ^  »•-*-  ---  '"  .'-: 

.-nrlj   T-ra   -j:»-    --r"      r -r-*  >•*-  ' —    •■     •  -         •  ■■  ..  •■    . 

-!•»*.      r:;?*     ;e-— -— :     -.s^.-i^-r  —  •  .••  ■'- •■        ••   ■ 

i:"*^!  .ir.«  T:i»^r  -ri »-■;£-  ..'  ■  :_:-■■.'.••••■  ■-■ 

rr=--  IL".--.  "^^  rv'  Titi-.  *  ^1*  I  '  'z^  ^1.        '.•■■■- 
"«  7   -ir  :u«:Tii--       2-;:    :■     ■■  ■:    •-  •  !'.*.:    •  l:-^-^ 

:i^«k  4       jr-^a      -k-u   'T"  n-      .-.  J- *    .-    ■    -■     ■-..      ■  ■ 
IJaI  !e7  -Jie     .III  *'ll..  1:    J*:-'     ■•  •  V  -,  ■    ,  .        '    • 

nr.--'  iiM)r  It*  x'if.   •>    iir:  j      •       .•:-      ...  ••  ■     , 

1*-  IrH"  zhe  -:i;j!H-    ■"•»!  t-i-.i   •.  •  ^:.      •  ^      .-■■     .  .      .-  .... 

r»c  :r,   I  r-?*-K  ■n   tt.^ --    j-*   ■  ■.,*-    -.;.• 

:m  2-rv   LI    ::.cr!r    1*    "..-.   .:.         .»     ■■  ■.:.-■./. 

i.rnjr  T-m    i:m- '  >  iii**;'-    :    -  -.    ,.:•  ■  -     ....• 

..!:ij  —  'har  .«■-   mi-^*    .*-   vv..-j  -;.  ■        ...  .* 

:p     U      ":iP      -iT.ir.rill— i---lM-.      .:.■  .•?    :  i 

zj**»^  MrsL  T  ij-k*,!,^  ir'**TT    -.:l         -'     .'  ■•..• 

e  .'*n*^t."'  .-       . .        ..; 

ivfaat ' "'  *■■     ■  '     •-••         « *  

."    ■i'lcspsT*^     '.tarp-.      :.       .f  :....■      .  .    -»*  ■     '■ 

-?*•    miiiin**::    -*  i:.!*--*    ■.»*-  ...-      .- -  •  .-•-        ■  •,#■  .  m.  . 

oan    1  ike  :iie  ■i«i*:.*--r     c    ..r  -.--.- 

▼lie. "  s  a.   ''  i--»iia<;       . '!*    •»f^i    ..«    ♦♦.  *i 


220 


Six  of  One  hy  Ealf  a  Dozen  of  the  Other, 


lidy  how  he  had  been  watching  Hug- 
giufl  for  a  long  timo;  how  he  had 
only  this  very  day  found  out  al>out 
two  bauk-accoutita,  the  sham  and  the 
true ;  how  the  vengeful  Mrs,  Hug- 
gins  had  a  few  days  ago  come  to  New 
York  in  search  of  her  recreant  lord, 
and  gumg  Uy  the  detective  head-<juar- 
ter*^  had  fallen  in  with  Crafts,  who 
had  tortliwith  notitied  Jim,  and  there- 
upon tlio  tea-table  tableau  had  been 
blocked  out. 

**  But  what  made  him  do  as  you 
told  him  to?"  asked  liaehel. 

^'  Why,  bless  you,  didn*t  you  see 
the  order  of  arrest  ?  ''  asiked  Jim. 

*^  But  what  haa  he  done  to  Wen- 
dall?'^ 

**  Got  a  lot  of  his  money.  But  the 
real  thing  that  frightoncd  him  was, 
tliat  I  let  him  know  I  would  expose 
him  in  die  papers  in  ftiU,  in  my  must 
picturesque  style,  if  he  didn't  pay  up. 
That  w«jald  have  broken  up  his  whole 
arrangement  witli  WendjilL*' 

"VVhy/.'  said  Horac^e,  **  broke  it 
up  ?  Wendikll  ha:4  sued  out  thts  or- 
der of  arrest  now." 

**  No,  he  ha^^n't/*  said  Jim  coolly. 
"  When  the  ladies  have  got  their 
money,  I  shall  notify  Huggins  that 
the  wiirrant  iii  all  a  Imm,  and  that  he 
can  pr^-«:eed  against  me  for  false  iin- 
prisounxent  or  conspiracy  or  forgt^ry 
or  high  treason,  if  he  wants.  He'll 
be  as  still  as  a  mouse,  though|  no  fear 
of  that" 

**Why/*  taid  Horace  again,  his 
eyes  wide  open,  **  it's  a  forgery  !  " 

**  No ;  the  statute  defines  that/' 
calmly  explained  Master  Jim*  "I 
asked  a  lawyer.  It's  a  misdemeanor  j 
but  we'll  bum  the  corpus  delicti  in 
g'K)d  8ea!:*ou  ;  and  the  recording  an- 
gel will  blot  out  the  entry  with  a 
tear,  as  he  did  Uncle  Toby-s  oath,  be- 
cause Vm  a  good  little  boy,  after  all" 

It  was  a  tiK'.t;  the  reckless  fellow 


had  certainly  perpetrated  a  legal] 
fence,  and  a  pretty  serious  ooe;[ 
it  was  BO  extremely  fine  a  spocii 
of  poetical  justice,  that  one  \ 
help  being  glad  afterwards^' 
none  of  ua  could  really  have 
mended  it  in  advance. 


Mrs.  Worboise  intended  to 
the  whole  of  her  money  to  the 
lord.     But  Jim  and  Horaee^  acta 
good  deal  like  joint  conservator 
her  benefit,  forbade  this,  saying  \ 
half  of  it  was  quite  enough. 

**  Fact  is/'  said  Jim,  **  1  knoir  j 
can't  go  on  here,  dame,  just  as 
as  you  do,  and   a   sight    better 
YoLi  ought  to  put  the  money  io 
pocket  and  leave." 

Here  a  servant  brought  in  a  le 
for  Kachel,  saying  that  it  had  fd 
down  behind  the  table  on  which  | 
carriers  letters  were  laid  at  the  i 
noon  delivery,  and  that  she  had  ^ 
found  it  on  the  floor*     llachel  r^t 
and  handed  it  to  Mrs.  Worboisefcl 
was  from  Squire  Holley,  and  wi 
orient  request  to  bis  half-«i9terto<i 
up  her  New  York  business  and 
and  keep  house  for  him. 

**  He's  just  as  good  as  he  can 
said  the  landlady  tearfully.     **  1 
know  what  to  say." 

'*  I  do/'  said  Horace.  ^»  FIl 
that  sly  thing  told  her  fatlicr  1 
that!" 

Racdiel  blushed.   «  Well/'  said 
''if  I  did,   it  was   in    goo4i  sea 
wasn  t  it  ?     Mayn't  I  help  Aunt  j 
lia  as  well  as  you  ?  '* 

**  Surely,"  said  Horace  ;  '» and  ; 
good  of  you  to  do  it.     And  Mri«. 
boise  roust  go  tt^o.     Now,  Mrs. 
boise,  cash  your  check  in  the  morti 
Jim  and  I  will  go  and  see  Air. 
this  very  minute." 

Warren   was   the   landlor 
young  men  went  instantly,     Uq 


Washington'8  Uxpresaion  of  Countenance.  221 


a  sufficiently  well-disposed  old  fellow, 
bat  would  Dot  give  them  much  of  an 
answer  that  night,  saying  —  very 
nfttnrally  —  that  he  must  see  his 
tenant. 

However,  within  a  few  days  an  ar- 
langement  was  made  by  which  Mrs. 
Worboise's  lease  was  surrendered; 
her  furniture  and  carpets,  which  un- 
der her  skilful  and  diligent  manage- 
■nent  were  in  remarkably  good  order, 
were  appraised;  the  landlord  knew 
of  a  lady,  he  said,  who  would,  he 
thought,  take  charge  of  the  whole  es- 
fcablishment  at  the  end  of  September ; 
and  not  only  was  Mrs.  Worboise  able 
fa>  retain  the  whole  of  her  money  from 


Huggins,  but  there  was  a  little  surplus 
due  her  from  the  furniture,  over  and 
above  the  arrears  of  rent  which  it 
paid  for. 

Notice  was  given  to  the  boarders  ac- 
cordingly ;  and  on  or  before  the  30th 
September,  1871,  they  either  searched 
out  other  homes,  or  arranged  to  remain 
under  the  new  aflministration. 

As  for  Huggins,  he  departed  on  the 
morning  after  his  exposure,  with 
hia  frill  much  rumpled,  his  feathers 
generally  in  a  very  draggled  state, 
and  his  bank-account  horribly  dilapi- 
dated. He  talked  big  to  the  very 
last,  assuring  Crafts  that  he  should 
hear  from  him. 


WASHINGTOITS  EXPRESSION  OF  COUNTENANCE. 


BY  RICHARD   8.   GREENOUOH. 


How  far  the  countenance  is  a  reflex 
of  character,  is  rather  to  be  intrusted 
to  the  common  sense  of  mankind  than 
to  the  opinions  of  specialists;  but  in 
cider  to  arrive  at  judgment,  we  must 
collect  opinions. 

In  giving  my  views  of  the  portraits 
;  cf  Washington,  I  wish  to  state,  that, 
with  the  exception  of  a  mask  taken 
•fter  death,  which  I  understand  exists 
I  the  possession  of  Mr.  J.  E.  Wil- 
I  liiiDs  of  New  York,  after  comparison 
Iff  the    innumerable  portraits     and 
ihuts  that   exist  of    him,   the   only 
entations  which  I  consider  as 
[aitboritieSi  however   interesting  the 
IttherB  may  be,  are  Stuart's  sketch, 
I  Boston  AthensBum ;  Houdon's  statue, 
|Bidmiond,  Va. ;  and  a  portrait  by  a 
of  Patience  Wright,  in  the  pos- 
won  of  Hon.  8.  Powel.     The  two 
It  are  the  authorities  in  matter  of 
leness.      The  latter  is  a  literal  de- 
led rendering  of  Washington's  face 


and  figure,  and  valuable  as  bein  g  taken       ^ 
before   the   change   of    form   of  the 
mouth  from  false  teeth. 

In  Tuckerman's  exhaustive  work, 
"The  Character  and  Portraits  of 
Washington,"  G.  P.  Putnam,  1859, 
there  is  an  excellent  notice  of  Mr. 
Powel's  picture,  p.  41,  and  very  just 
remarks  upon  the  same  by  Crawford, 
with  which  I  agree,  excepting  the 
criticism  of  the  neck  of  Houdon's 
statue  as  being  too  short. 

In  every  countenance  there  are 
three  expressions,  viz.,  orr/anizatioriy 
passive  emotion^  and  active  emotion. 
The  organization  of  a  face  gives  it  an 
aspect  or  expression  independent  of 
any  emotion.  The  expression  of 
passive  emotion  is  a  combination  of 
the  expression  of  organization,  and 
of  such  emotions  as  may  have  left 
their  traces  upon  that  organization. 
The  expression  of  active  emotion  is  a 
complex  expression,    the    effect    of         jJ 


222 


Washington's  Expression  of  Countenance. 


motion  and  the  expressioDa  above 
mentioned.  It  seriotislj  modifies 
without  destroying  the  expressions  of 
organization  and  tliose  traces  of  past 
emotion  w'1iii-h  I  have  indicated  as 
passive  emotion. 

It  ia  well  to  note  this  statement  of 
the  principles  of  expression^  in  order 
to  dLstingiiiiih  wherein  a  likeness 
sncceeds  in  rendering  the  essentials 
of  character.  The  two  likeue?!ses, 
Stuart-a  sketch  (1795),  and  the  head 
of  Hoadon's  statue  (178.3)»  afjree  in 
organization^  taking  into  consideration 
the  difVerence  of  age.  In  the  head 
of  Houdon*s  statue,  we  see  that  the 
mouth  iHi  free  from  the  constrained  ex- 
pression observable  in  Stuart's  sketch, 
and  which  all  the  authorities  agree  in 
imputing  to  the  loss  of  teeth,  a  loss 
which  Stnart  endeavored  to  supply  by 
the  use  of  cotton,  I  therefore  con- 
sider Hon  don  as  the  best  authority. 
The  expression  of  the  mouth  and  of 
passive  emotion  in  Wright's  portrait, 
taken  also  in  1783,  is  more  like  Hou- 
don's  than  like  Stuart*8,  but  the 
drawing  of  the  erisemble  is  not  so 
good. 

Having  occasion  to  work  from 
Hon  don 'a  bust,  I  for  the  first  time 
began  to  feel  an  air  of  sadness  which 
impressed  me.  The  longer  I  studied 
its  traits,  the  more  it  grew  upon 
mo ;  until  at  last  ray  interest  was  so 
much  excited  hy  what  had  become 
the  dominant  expression,  that  I  re- 
viewed his  life,  and  was  deeply  im- 
pressed by  the  innumerable  causes 
for  melancholy  tliat  lay  hidden  be- 
hind the  splendid  achievements  of 
the  man.  Frofe^ional  jealousies, 
treachery,  the  want  of  comprehen- 
sion and  sympathy,  the  violation  and 
destruction  of  many  sentiments  imtu- 
nd  to  one  who  w^as  humane,  loyal, 
law -respecting,  and  social,  — such  were 


among  the  causes  of  sadness  i 
cluldless  hero;  and  as  I  reraca 
the  toils  and  struggles  of  his  i 
ered  career,  I  could  not  ImT 
abundant  cause  for  unhappine 
the  nonnal  condition  of  his 
nance.  True,  he  had  snnriv 
conquered,  but  tnwjes  of  his  jiti 
are  plainly  visible  in  the 
taken  immediately  after  the 
is  only  later  by  twelve  years,  i 
Stuart's  portrait  was  executed, 
we  see  the  softening  effects  of  a 
nided  advanced  age,  and  stern 
ness  gives  w^ay  to  a  venenible  b« 
olence  that  makes  one  gnvtefu! 
his  life  was  prolonged  to  the  at 
ment  of  repose  and  peace  of  sou! 
1  know  of  no  argunftent  agi 
war  so  instructive  and  convincin 
a  careful  study  of  the  face  of  Vi 
ington  at  the  close  of  the  Revolu 
Tliough  it  speaks  of  will  and 
power  of  endurance,  though  we  )i 
that  his  laurels  were  purt*r 
brighter  than  those  won  by  any  < 
commander,  we  cannot  but  re 
that  his  soul  had  been  tortured 
his  spirit  outraged  so  that  hu 
glory  had  become  a  w*eariness  ai 
vanity. 

Irresistibly  led  to  such  unloo 
for  and  unwelcome  conclusions  1 
sensation  of  Houdon*s  bust, 
not  but  feel  that  there  was 
ment  in  Washington  which  hatt 
been  sufficiently  accented  in  the 
mates  of  his  character,  I  reft 
his  faithy  not  speaking  in  the  i 
sense,  but  in  view  of  what  cona 
the  religious  and  moral  atmo 
by  which  his  spiritual  blood  ' 
tied  and  his  soul  strength en« 
its  work.  This  consideration,' 
ever,  I  will  leave  to  some  one  h 
fitted  to  pursue  the  theme, 
Newpobt,  Jan.  7,  ISTJ. 


IS  hi 

I 


Tke  Stmdard  LiiemeM  of  W(aAiMftaa. 


^*5r! 


THE  STANDARD  TJKKNESS  OF  WX^HiyGTOy.- 


m  more  than  two  hizDaired 
mt  engnTings  hare  b«ea  exe- 
to  gire  to  the  worLi  p*3EtEuT3 
uhingtoiu  it  is  not  sfcxa^  thaa 
should  exist  a  diSereoL't^  of 
n  as  t«)  which  is  b€4t^  —  mo4C 
ce.  Especiallj  when,  ic  »  n*- 
ered  that  he  is  repreaenteii  ac 
;ea.  For  whOe  jet  joang  he 
e  &noosw  and  t^nsetpentlj  the 
t  of  portzaitare  from  chac  time 
19- 

i  mort  generallj  reeefred  and 
*d  likeness — especially  in 
England — is  loand  in  Stnarfs 
ixB  of  him.  Or  rather,  pottracc 
\e  several  copies  famished  bj 
ilstingoished  artist  were  taken 
:he  originaL  now  in  the  pfMneti- 
if  the  B<k»ton  Arhen«Tun ;  wizk 
xception,  howerer.  namely,  the 
it  painted  by  him  iyr  Alex- 
Hamilton :  for  this  oo^e.  h  ia  im- 
oL  \^^ashin|^^>a  ga^e  aituiruri. 
IS  l«rlieTe«L  lajwentT.  thar  a  «!ar»i- 
Luninat>>n  of  th*r  subjw:*:  ttuI 
jr  any  one.  thar,  hvAlj  as  zhn 
pAinter  may  Lar*  af»pr»ri:ia;r.iii 
character  of  WAi*hiiLz::.>cu  be 
I  to  d>  jostice  to  his  frarar«*ji. 
hen  compared,  for  inscanii!e.  with 
tame  of  Hoad:iQ.  maiie  in  I7S5 
a  cast  in  wax.  Stman  wiH  be 
to  be  soikin^y  infrrif'jr  in  hiH 
ajal  of  Washington's  pep^epcrre 
ties. 

oodon's  mask  taken  drnKtiy  frnm 
lee  grrea  a  deep-set  ^ye.  matfirre 
V  large  iMiew  aa»i  stnkingiy  izm 


miifziih.  T^  fiu!e  iit  ■ssrina^c.  mil.  iir 
more  i:«^in3i;mi!::i;£,  'iiiiun  jl  die  i^mii.tc 
cQnvTHi"ni>!iai  piirsaiS   if  .^roarr. 

The  ina**k  wiiiiiii  j^»u.  3Li  Elitir  :il 
have  *<*eiL.  vm  mjiujiwi  hy  jn  Irj^ia 
aartiac  in  1S54.  ±r?m  ine  iwnwt  -.y 
<i^n-  Crofsnan.  H:»  is  ine  if  iuir- 
tskken  m>iii  3.  311  (nLi  ly  H-^imii  a. 
whii:h  !ni>iijiL  w»  ac^  ^iDirmwL  t  ih 
ditarr^yeit  ::y  dre  in  Pbiiadjeiniuiu 
ahi>iix  tit*  y*ar  L>l:7. 

In  'tfrittr  :«)  afeH^eraui  MniPCimff  .:i 
reianoa  !»  :aie  asiriaearaiarr  tf  -ji..-» 
Hondiin  iikenHm  if  ^j»hi-ji;r"-a.  l 
L«Eer  WM  2uiiir»5WHii  "i*  3Cr.  '-•»*«. rr-> 
W.  P.  «1tii«cl»:  ami  ]iia  2^1*17  y:  - 
Liiiheii  in-Tlii*  Wj»Hun^%'.n  '---jii  -  ' 
Sept  l:i  LS^  Iz  -vm  .a.  *:iiK  a*ili-v- 
rag  ynw :  — 

JuuuBmmv  Xmoh.  %«r.  1  'JK». 

T^  *Tas3u*  ■;€  Hiiutiji  j*.   mit    n--.  r 

jeii:T-*ii  ^u*ii.'j.,ir.'.n-      I"  tih   '^ta  •■. 
irjO.   Tuie  -f-^    11;   iC.uv.*   '•'•rT.i.n. 
<>!?:.: c#*t  ir*.>  ;    L.nt    -Vi**    tli'/#l»':".i*': 

LOL.'JH.        Till*   .-k>1**J«    IT  •"!*    -ri!!*    V  I  .1 

■*Xi!»cL>n:n.     Tie    'U  i*f  '.r.iiii^*?:    n  ;.  : 
iz.    ac-peazasu'.ft    "r-.rui-.:!     nr;    ..;r:..'/.u   • 
k:i»;wi**ii;r»    .f  h^n.  ^-^  ~v,u    \^»r 
17Ii*.>.     H.;iui*:ti  ▼'«  riii-  -i.rvr  ufTK^- 
aiii  line  -f    xm    la?     ir.i:   r.itiiK 
T'-.ya^rs   V.    .Vjni*r:i'.a   vr  *:".**   *-;•;*••' 
p»iT>:nft  /^f  2n»-'./.:vj  •.•.»*  ^,r.  f"^.     V   ^' 
^ZfA^i    -wm   ^XAv.ir^:     -.-     auir *.•,•*    .  . 
ParA 

*ee2ui  V.  *-je    ir,   f»5U*'.';   v,  'V^-.!/*    .* 
atxozacy^ — i:hi^  'rirtJiruva,  m  vtst-Ji**!^ 


224 


Washington's  Agricidtural  Letters. 


Houdon  and  Stuiirt,  may  be  coiidid- 
ered  as  settled  in  favor  of  the  for- 
mer. 

It  HOtnns  hi  gill  y  prop^^r  to  state,  in 
this  co»»neciit>n»  tbat  your  Bo8ton- 
Iwirn  sculptor,  Mr  John  Kogers^  who 
has  done  so  much  for  art  m  Now 
York,  and  has  spread  his  works  of 
patriotism  and  of  genius  throughout 
the  whole  couutry,  is  now  just  com- 
pleting a  group  larger  than  any  he 
has  heretofore  executed,  which  he 
calls,  "Camp  Fires  of  the  Revolu- 
tion.'* Wikshington»  Hiimilton»  and 
Lafayette  are  represented,  Wash- 
ington stands  by  the  side  of  his 
finely  motleOed  horse.    The  likenessea 


have  all  hccn  studied  up  frJl 
m«3st  reliable  authorities,  will 
care,  researcht  and  fidelity  whic 
acterize  the  works  of  this  bcuI] 

His  frionds  iKink  there  h] 
son  to  doubt  that  his  Wiishingt* 
prove  as  sa!f  isfaetory;  to  saj  ibt 
as  any  likeness  heretofore  maJu 
great  and  good  man. 

The  patriotic  and  historical 
est  which  this  noble  group  i 
lated  to  impart,  ought  to  jiec 
place  in  every  state-house  t 
out  the  land,  and  also  in  al 
libraries  of  the  larger  cii 
towns.  J. 


Hew  TOAKi  Jfta.  5  18TL 


WASHINGTON'S  AGRICULTURAL  LETT 


BY   OEOBGE   HAISTNAH. 


ERS^I 


m/f  The    Long  Island   Historical  tate  consisted  of  fiv«  farms, 

■  S c»c I KTY  has  in  its  possession  one  hun-  its  appropriate  set  of  laborer 
I            dred  and  twenty-three   original   and  the   direction   of    an    ovei 

■  uupubli.shed  letters  of  Washington,  whole^  especially  during  thi 
^^—  bt^iug  his  correspondence  with  the  dent's  long  absences  from  hon 
^^B      superintendent  of  his  estate  at  Mount  one   superintendent      Each 

Vernon,  frcnn  2Gth   August,  1793,  to  overseers   was    required    to 

6th  May,  1798.     Thes*e  letters  were  written  report  weekly  to  the 

the  propert}'  of  Mr,  William  Fearce,  tendent,  in  which  a  minut« 

the  person  to  whom   they  were    ad-  was  giren  of  every  thing  dof 

dressed^  and  they  passed  by  inheritance  farm  in  the  course  of  the  week 

to  his  nephew^  Mr.  Nathaniel  Fearce,  ing  the  conditiou  of   the 

from  whom  they  were  purchased  by  the   nnmber  of  days*  work 

the  Hon.  Ed svard  Everett.     Mr.  Ever-  laborer.     A  record  was  kepi 

ett  intended  to  arrange,  annotate,  and  superintendent,  and  the  orij 

puldish  tliem,  but  he  did  not  live  to  ports  were  sent  in  a  weekly 

carry  out  his  design.     At  his  death  the  President.     The  Presides 

the  letters  passed  to  one  of  his  family,  returned  a  weekly  answer  in 

from  vvliom  they  were  purchased  by  of    four  or  eight    pagee^   soni 

Mr.  J.  Carson  Brevoort  of  Brooklyn,  much  longer.     These  letters 

and  pre8ente<l   by  hira  to  the  Long  illustrate  the  attention  of 

Isltind  Historical  Society,  of  which  he  ton  to   the  minutest  detail 

is  [I resident,  business  which  he  had  in 

Washington's   Mount   Vernon   es-  incidentally  cast  a  strong  lighi 


som 

I 


2EK 


«r 


i  9n  cfftniB  nn  uiis 


Eva 

mnia^  m  ITM,  k  wmte  left- 

in  wkiek  be  Boltes  tike  ap- 
of  tlie  bttckvlieat  aaid  pote- 
rh  he  saw  on  tlie  &nBS  bj 
^ide,  and  gives  a  general 
for  the  caie  of  his  stock  at 
^-h<^  cold  weather.  While 
:f  are  mostlj  on  topics  oon- 
ith  agricohaie,  tiiere  ai^ 
images  in  them  which  will  be 
alaable  as  illastiating  the 
of  Washingtoo,  and  partic- 
I  minuteness  and  accuracy 
ition,  and  remarkable  execa> 
J.  The  extracts  which  are 
n  relate  to  social  and  family 
ind  were  selected  at  random 
hasty  examination  of  the 

letter  dated  Nov.  23,  1794, 
mostly  to  farm  o^^erations, 
the  following  instructions 
eatment  of  risitors  to  Mount 

k  letter  from  Mrs.  Fanny 
ton  to  Mrs.  Washington  (her 
*  mentions  that  since  I  left 
^mon  she  has  given  out  four 
id  eight  bottles  of  wine. 
they  are  used,  or  not,  she 
mj ;  bat  I  am  led  by  it  to 
hat  it  is  not  my  intention 
Mild  be  given  to  every  one 
incline  to  make  a  conve- 
the  house  in  travelling,  or 
be  induced  to  visit  it  from 
r  emionty.  There  are  bat 
li 


ItAni&iit  'im^bit  tke  )ie  i^nmuz  Ifir^ 
imv  jpm^fiiimUur  misqnmftsmtMO^  iia  tone 

wme  frf  ttlM  iHMd^  iieifiMdaAAe  im%»- 
«irswlMiiftajpe«cki»oft  be  ui  JklexaoK 
<&Ba  «r  tdbe  iMend  ciaj;,  »»d  b»  mimr 
bo<Q«gbt4iown,«orintp»diMied  bjleftQier 
of  sjputKalaraoivainth 
asbefiomacntiMiiel;  wvtliitd^ 
to  pecHtts  of  mwmi  dwdndtfcan  (f«db 
mm  neaiben  of  Ocm^nm^  ^be.)  wbi» 
nay  be  traTdling  tbvMi^  tb«  cwin* 
Xmj  from  noitb  to  soatb  or  ftoa  wonnAk 
to  noitb;  to  the  first  of  wUcb  I 
sboold  not  £ail  to  gire  letters^  wb<Nre  I 
conceive  them  entitled.  17ni«»  aone 
caotion  of  this  soit  gorents,  I  shooU 
be  ran  to  an  expense  aa  improper  ma 
it  would  be  consideiable ;  for  the  du^ 
upon  Madeim  wine  makea  it  oue  of 
the  most  expensive  liquors  that  is  now 
used ;  while  my  stock  of  it  is  amalli 
and  old  wine  (of  which  that  is)  is  not 
to  be  had  upon  any  terms ;  for  which 
reason,  and  for  the  limited  purposes 
already  mentioned,  1  had  rather  you 
would  pravide  claret  or  other  wine  on 
which  the  duty  is  not  so  high,  tlian  to 
use  my  Madeira ;  uliless  it  be  on  vory 
extraordinary  occasion s« 

*'  I  have  no  objections  to  any  sol>er 
and  orderly  persons  gratifying  thoir 
curiosity  in  viewing  tiie  building 
gardens,  &c.,  about  Mount  Vernon  ; 
but  it  is  only  to  such  persons  as  1 
have  described,  that  I  ouglit  to  l)0 
run  to  any  expense  on  account  of 
these  visits  of  curiosity,  lH»yond  com- 
mon civility  and  hospitality.  So 
gentleman  who  has  a  propter  reM|>c*ct 
for  his  own  character  (except  rt«la- 
tions  and  intimates)  would  use  the 
house  in  my  absence  for  the  sake  of 
convenience  (iis  it  is  far  removcHl 
from  the  public  roads),  unless  invited 
to  do  so  by  me  or  soma  friend ;  nor  do 


226 


Waahington'a  Agricultural  Letters. 


I 


I  suppose  any  of  this  description 
would  go  there  without  a  personal  or 
written  introductiou. 

"  I  hav^e  been  thus  particular  that 
you  may  have  a  full  view  of  ray  ideaa 
on  this  subject,  aud  conform  to  them ; 
and  because  the  It  now  lodge  I  have  of 
my  servants  is  such,  as  to  believe, 
that,  if  opportunities  are  given  thera, 
they  wiil  take  otf  two  glasses  of  wine 
for  every  one  that  ia  drank  by  such 
visitors  and  tell  you  they  were  used 
by  them  ;  without  sucli  a  watch  over 
thera  as  the  other  businens  you  are 
employed  in  would  not  allow  you  to 
bestow.'* 

He  keeps  a  sharp  eye  upon  his  ser- 
vantSj  never  requiring  thera  to  work 
when  they  are  ill,  but  demanding 
faithful  service  from  them  when  they 
are  able  to  render  it  In  J^ larch, 
1795,  he  writes, — 

*'  What  ftort  of  sickness  is  Dick*s, 
that  he  should  have  been  con  lined 
with  it  for  so  many  weeks?  and 
what  kind  of  sickness  is  Betty 
Davis's,  that  it  should  have  had  a 
similar  etibct  upon  her?  If  protended 
ailments,  without  apparent  causes  or 
visible  effects,  will  screen  her  from 
work,  I  shall  get  no  service  at  all  from 
her;  for  a  more  lazy,  deceit ftih  and 
impudent  huzzy  is  not  to  be  found 
in  the  United  States  than  she  ia. 

**  Is  it  Sarah  that  wiks  among  the 
spinners  at  the  Mansjiioa  House  that 
is  now  in  ehild-bed?  If  so,  she 
seems  to  have  begun  in  time.'* 

With  this  collection  is  a  letter 
from  one  Sarah  Greeu,  directed  to 
the  President  of  the  Uifited  States, 
ftskirig  for  aid,  and  at  the  sauie  time 
acknowledging  his  previous  kindness 
to  her.  Washington  forwards  the 
lett-er  to  his  agent,  with  the  following 
indorsement  upon  it :  — 

Mil.    p£AUC£^  —  If    Mm,    Green 


because  t] 
kture  and« 
in  ion  it  \m 
than  IDOUM 
ipect  that  \ 


and  her  family  are  really  ia  I 
a^Tord  them  some  relief;  I  caij 
to  what  amounti,  because  t] 
pends  upon  the  nature 
it  But  in  my  opi 
be  in  any  thing  than 
very  strongly  suspect 
has,  or  perhaps  ail  that  will  li 
to  her  in  that  article,  is  applij 
in  rigging  herself  than  in  the  | 
of  real  and  useful  necej^ariel 
familv-  To  aid  her  in  thi« 
not  my  mtentiou  ;  but  you  m 
inquiry,  know  what  her  real  % 
is,  and  govern  yourself  there) 

If  she  cannot  support  iier  ij 
she  ought  to  bind  them  to 
ters  and    mistinesses,  who 
thera  tra^le^,  aral   do  that  j 
them  which  the  law  dtrects, 

I  am  yours,  &c,| 

Go.  WAflfl 

4th  April,  1796.  1 

In  May,  1797,  be  writes  re| 
one  of  whom  ho  projx^ses  toi 
house-servant  as  follows  :  —  | 

"'  1  w*iuid  have  yo^i  again  al 
pride  of  Cyrus,  that  he  mal 
fitter  for  my  purpose  again! ' 
home ;   sometime  before  wl 
is,  as  soon  as  I  shall  be  able 
the  time)  I  will  direct  hira  to 
into  the  house,  and  clothes  t 
for  hira.     In  the  mtian  whil 
a  strong  horn  comb,  and  dir< 
keep  his  hea^l  well  combed^ 
hair,  or  wool,  ma}'  grow  long.' 

About  tiie   time  of  his    ra 
Mount  Vernon  this  year  frotit 
of  government,  he  gives  freqll 
minute   directions     respect inj 
cleaning,  arrangement  of  tho 
and  is  careful  to  require  notJ 
sent   to   the   butcher  to    pr( 
abundant  sup])ly  of  meat,  at] 
"Tell  tlie  gardener  that    t 
pect  every  thing  that  a  garde ti 


Deeig  Vtrma  Ormd».  327 

in  the  mort  «nipie  nsiiiisr.''  fnreiw   long  sher  praetiee   witL    Urn 

me  letter  he  viitefi,  ^  If  KLuf  iiorL  comb.       Amoii^r   many   mmnte 

mis  should  af^J  for  a  cart  diIvcIl<m^    u^  tiitr  toiirywii^: :     -  Ms. 

port    her  tnmk    and   ozhGT  ^mniu^tm  ckl•Ire^  mt-  &•  mtorzL  you 

rom   Dr.   Stoart's  to  Mouut  xbox   tiit»R:   wlk^  nom^  ontt^fr  leit  in 

let   it    be  tent   a§  souu  bf  xiju:  ctiliax.  ami   eomt-    i#«e:  ll  a  tub, 

fco';  aod  {tend  Bomethiiiir  tt»  whioL.  after  snppiyiu^  Jamet.  mar  be 

i  secure  the  oanteute  agaiuHt  apiilieii  to  any  urn-  vol  toioi:  proper." 

Tiif-  Lour:    l«iaaii  fiisvirioa.    bt*- 

li*  return  to  **  Fedflral  Gity/*  ciety  proTitiiK;.  a^   bool   a^  tittr  >?tM» 

a  long  letter,  in  which  Oyrui-'  aui  inr  pnperiy  edxteti  ant:  iauBira&ed, 

s.  who  seems   to    havi'   mt-  to  print  tiiem    xzi  i^  aeuatas*.-  toxiiik:, 

e  President'E  pnrpoBe.  ttinugii  tmiinrm  iii  styifc  witL  ife  outer  pm^ 

¥C  xnibrmed  wLeshcir  Jus  wimiI  iicBitoub. 


DEEDS  TEi;SU^  CKEEDfc. 
ST  AKFiE  1^  guza&ei. 

Asny.  aeckixtg  trasL  I  wiioUy  hut  my  warr  : 
Boc^«d  hack  and  forward  i>y  thf  fiwm$;iup 
Of  doulit  and  :fi&iuh.  froiifuKft:  iiy  mauy  piittet, 

Each  COM:  armed  wiiii  b  ducrriuf:  ami  ii  cnMxi 
WlJcL  «a(i  i*iit  wiit  ti-  «By 

WoLid  mtHft  aiiC  HUtisfy  my  ^.v^rry  ih«^^ 

JLad  (OK-  cAuimed  Jt*«ii*-  wat  tin^  hoL  o:  (*vt: 
Aiid  coif  dtnued  ziuc  m  war  mi/r^  tcuo.  mat. 
<>iie  ws«iii«d  wnCL  il  zu*^  ivaf-:min|:  piai. . 

Out  dw«h  ufMiL  n*  mar 7.  oul  tir  ursr** . 
<li2if  -dmsa^torifd  wni.  int  rue  ■ 

Oiie  wffcied  me  wiui  tiH^  cmiiiip-  or!  iiK  cvyirt. 

And  whediw  aoiui-  w^s*-  for»-<iniaiiH«:  d  i>u»- 
Ajud  wht!nh»s-  iani..  or  wfinst.  w^-r*  txrrnts:  u  tgsr^- 
And  witadiflr  ,iuunnicir  xay  M^mt.  ti**  jrsarr*. 

And  l.Tfc.  wisi  iiartiafumi:  pifw»-r  wfru*  tufwi.  u,  i*.;!. 
Wh^^er  tiia:  road,  ur  nufc. 

Led  iK|<  bO  heasvBEf  pni:.  J  omiit  mr  v^L 

Amid  'shs*  dufit  of  ^Uieoiiic'f  cnk 
I  hnircsged  wni  a  wan:  mfisu:».ili<ft. 

Wm  -v^nc  I  GSB^  :  ouci  uim  n  miUk*  ^auimm: 
a  ■nil  immiJtmL  mr*  Int 

illiuymtdoLiig;  Aurafc  t£  Taut. 


228  Deeds  YerguB  Creeds. 

To  judgment  swift  my  guid<3i  in  dcfctrine  came: 
Which  one  iivL*d  out  the  royal  truths  be  preaclied? 
WTiich  one  loved  mercy»  and  ne'er  overreached 

His  weaker  bmthop  ?    Aiid  which  one  forgot 
Hk  own  in  other's  claim, 

And  put  sell'  l;tst  ?     I  soughtj  but  found  him  not  f 

m 

And  wej^t  and  railed  becatrse  religion  seemod 
Only  the  thin  ascending  smoke  of  words,  — 
The  jangling  rude  of  inliarmonious  chords; 

Until  —  my  false  inductions  to  disprove  — 
Across  my  vision  strea  led 

The  gloiy  of  a  life  aflame  v  th  love. 

One  who  was  silent  while  his  brethren  tauglit. 
And  showed  me  not  the  beauties  of  his  creec^ 
But  wont  he  fore  me,  sowing  silent  seed 

That  mEide  the  wast©  and  barren  desert  glad  \ 
Wliose  hand  in  secret  brought 

Healing  and  comfort  to  the  sick  and  sad. 

Aglow,  I  pried,  "  Here  all  mj  questionings  end  : 
Oh  \  what  is  thj  reHgion,  thy  belief? '' 
Smiling,  he  shook  his  head  with  answer  brief,  - 

This  man  so  swift  to  act,  so  slow  to  speak,  — 
"  In  deeds,  not  creeds,  my  friend, 

Lives  the  religion  that  I  humbly  seek." 

And  soft  and  sweet  across  my  spirit  stole 

The  rest  and  peace  so  long  and  vainly  sought ; 
And  though  I  mourn  the  graces  I  have  not, 

If  I  may  help  my  brother  in  his  need, 
And  love  him  as  my  soul, 

I  trust  God's  pardon  if  I  have  no  creed. 


[The  length  of  the  current  nombers  of  "  The  Vicar's  Daughter  "  and  **  Six  of  C 
Half  a  Dozen  of  the  Other  "  compel  the  omission  from,  this  number  of  Chapter  X] 
"Ups  and  Downs."] 


®l)e  €xamixux. 


B  month  of  Febmarj  is  to  see  the  dispersion  of  the  libraiy  of 
Sparks,  which  is  to  be  sold  in  Boston  on  the  6th  and  the 
following.  Dr.  Sparks's  clear  judgment,  with  his  felicity  of 
on,  and  his  careful  arrangement,  give  to  this  libraiy  a  valuo- 
bey ond  that  of  any  ordinary  collection  o£fered  for  sale,  and  lead 
speak  of  the  event  as  an  event  not  unimportant  in  literary 
ry. 

membering  that  Dr.  Sparks  edited  the  Diplomatic  Correspond- 
of  the  Revolution,  the  Correspondence  of  Washington  and  of 
dio,  the  Correspondence  of  those  Grenerals  of  the  Revolution* 
whom  Washington  had  to  do ;  remembering  his  supervision  of 
-  American  Biography,"  and  the  unsurpassed  opportunities- 
1  he  enjoyed  in  Europe  in  his  collection  of  early  tracts  and  oi 
llliistrations  of  our  history  ;  rememberiaj,  as  well,  that  he  sus- 
1  and  re-enforced  his  Herculean  powers  of  labor  by  the  most 
dous  and  Successful  systems  of  arraugeinent,  the  student  of 
rican  history  will  expect  to  fial  in  this  collection  treasures 
h  he  has  longed  for  and  never  expected  to  have  open  before  him. 
will  he  be  disappointed.  In  a  letter  which  Dr.  Cogswell  wrote, 
Dng  before  his  death,  to  a  friend  in  Chicago,  he  said,  "  When  it  is 
dered  that  it  was  formed  by  Pres.  Sparks  during  a  long  life 
t«rd  to  the  study  of  our  history,  and  particularly  to  its  most  lu- 
ting period,  —  the  struggle  for  Independence,  anl  the  subse- 
it  formation  of  a  stable  government,  —  and  with  a  special  view 
^mpleteness  in  this  respect,  a  juster  estimate  of  its  value  will  be 
iied.  ilany  of  the  works  it  contains  are  not  now  to  be  had  at 
price.  The  collection  of  pamphlets  relating  to  our  Colonial  and 
ilotiooary  history  is  without  an  equal." 

be  Catalogue  contains  more  than  three  thousand  titles  of 
21,  pamphlets,  maps,  and  M3S.  Almost  every  book  has  Dr. 
ks's  autograph,  many  his  valuable  MS.  notes.  There  are  other 
graphs  of  tempting  value  scattered  through  them.     We  notice- 


230 


The  Examiner. 


Washington*^  name,  Madison's,  Jefferson's,  J*  Q,  Adamd^s,  yk 
ster'is.  Story *s,  the  Everetts\  and  many  others.  I 

The  title  Geohge  Wasiunoton,  in  the  alphabetical  orden 
divided  under  twenty  heads.  Both  of  the  spurioun  coUectiaoa 
Washington's  letters,  published  by  the  English  Government  iiJ 
Revolution,  are  here,  each  one  with  a  MS.  note  of  Dn  Sparksa 
plaining  its  eharacter.  The  private  editions  of  the  Farewell  AdJ 
and  of  the  Diary  of  1789  are  here.  The  genuine  letters  to  TJ 
and  Sinclair,  published  in  1800  and  1801,  are  here,  and  the  J 
EngUsh  edition  (1703)  of  the  "  Official  Letters/'  There  is  a  cull 
collection  of  the  early  eulogies,  embracing  those  which  have  m 
into  literary  history.  Lee*s,  Paine's,  Fisher  Ames's,  and  Gouvetl 
Morris's.  There  is  a  unique  copy  of  an  illustrated  book  on  Vn 
ington*s  Life,  —  of  which  Mi\  Sparks  furnished  the  letter-preJ 
but  which,  though  printed,  never  was  published.  1 

This  title,  however,  is  by  far  the  lea.st  interesting  part  of  the  j 
tributious  which  this  library  would  make  to  Washington's  life] 
lustory.  There  is  a  folio  volume  in  the  collection  of  autogra 
which  is  enough  to  make  a  collector's  hair  stand  upright;  I 
arranged  by  Dr.  Sparks  with  the  title  *^  Autographs  of  Washing 
Franklin,  and  Lafayette."  Here  are  the  signatures  of  wluch  the] 
Buniles  are  printed  in  the  first  volume  of  Sparks*s  Washington.  I 
are  whole  lettei's  of  his  at  different  periods  of  his  life,  there  beiH 
all  twenty-one  autographs.  There  are  twenty -five  of  Franklim 
two  of  Lafayette  in  tlie  same  volume.  A  collection  of  Mafis  on 
Revolution,  which  were  campaign  papers  in  Washington's  haai 
of  the  highest  interest*  And  the  catalogue  gives  in  an  appd 
the  titles  of  all  the  bound  historical  manuscripts  which  are  depoi 
under  a  conditional  bequest  in  the  Library  of  Harvard  Univeij 
These  include  all  the  copies  made  for  Dr.  Sparks  in  the  foq 
archives,  and  those  which  he  had  collected  here.  Tbey  are  arrai 
under  one  hundred  and  five  titles.  Among  them  are  the  volumd 
Washington  Letters  which  are  alluded  to  in  another  part  of  | 
number  of  *'  Old  and  New.*'  I 

One  cannot  open  into  the  catalogue  anywhere  without  &m 
curious  illustrations,  especially  of  the  Revolutionary  period,  i 
as  would  be  gems  in  any  other  catalogue,  which  lie  here  hi 
distinguished,  merely  because  there  are  so  many  of  them.  Tbe( 
one  modest  little  title,  ''  Views  and  Designs,"  consisting  of  eid 
eight  prints  and  drawings,  which  Mr*  Sparks  had  collected,  witt 
■imerring  precision,  as  fit  illustrations  of  history-     The  list  In 


7%€  Extrmij^er.  ££1 

til  Boston.  Charlestown.  LexinzroiL  ani  zhr  3u>nlr  a:  Bnrirar 
ilL     Let  the  reader  take  ihese  tzdes  tt^  &  sojzirlr. 

■Liberrr  Tree  widi  Houses;  B«roL  iri-L  zji'-  Hi^-mnh.  r»^T':S*»is::Rr  F.A"a. 
d  Noilir's  Lslaai  ani  Ii-i-»aH-=:  D  im:.iL  ~i  T-it^wr,^  L-r^'Z.  ..  'nLm-i.. 
Beail  Hall  froai  the  Warer:  B-^^:;r  Hll.  "il  »«iinir:i--  T::-  >r— ?i  :jl  L-^::- 
gtm  wliere  the  Bi^riiib  first  fired  on  the  ^mernrgn.-- .  i.*~:.-  •-  L:::::-r~i:>r. 
Xhe  Oil  S-^uare  Meediiz-hooite  seen  in  i-^-L '  Tii-  7':i  .1  *iii  11-.." 
qjor  Pitcaim,  tlie  Provincial  Cimpskny.  i...  ar*^  !ii;irk-^  "in  r-.!  ■*  -i-w^? 
the  Battle  of  Lexington,  radeij  engra.T--i ;  •"  .m;':>r-  n.  IT*!  .  1  mae 
IgiBiing?  of  the  Battle  of  Bunkers  Hll :  "  ^l-  tu. 

The  rare  panipViets  are,  in  many  instiiJi  :■:r^.  'i  --.mi  •ieT.iniT.r'y.  il 
■t  form  so  fascin»^ring  ani  conveni-z.:  i..'r  ■j>li-'jt.:'rs.  Bz:  inirt 
le  aereral  collecrions  wLieh  xrlll  :>c  >jli  n-r-r  iisiri..  -  Anieriii^in 
nets  "  is  a  collection  in  seven  vjliime?  :•:  lilrrv-r  re  Tiajnj.iuria.  znjsz 
fthem  rare,  all  of  Enrlifh  or  Frencit  imr.rliLt.-*.  vf  zlir  r^ii-rs  'nerween 
165  and  1T?1,  and  all  bearing  on  ihr  ErvZ-riiiiiur-  :«..'l:di-?^.  N:>. 
19  is  one  little  volume  wliieh  C'.ot^iTi-  H*.r_rj'r  -  Lrr.r-rs "'  .■l  ilit 
Tar,  with  Hartley's  aniozraph  sijTiikr'jrr  to  tu.:i  letirr.  A:i-»tiier 
Aection  is  of  two  volumes,  all  Enzli--;ii-  (^zi  C-  1  'Z^jL  Trjiir.  Tiiere 
B  three  other  sets  entered  as  Historicai  Tru-L-ti  tni  Hisrori- 
i  Pamphlets*  embracing  twenty-seven  sejijirarr  p;i.n];''Llria.  almcnt 
1  En^Ush.  Here  is  the  wonderfiLi  jr:-: Le-.-y  f  T-:kr:.  —  tbr  ^h .-le 
lirjovne  controversv.  —  Gej.  Grenvlll- ?.  ••  C  •z^xLr:::a,zi.'ii^"  P^-iir's 
lemozial  to  the  Sovereigns  of  E^iroT^r.  'd,zil  MLrr?  j»t::Lj.->-  a.-  c:irlous. 
beh  rarities  fall  to  the  luck  of  but  few  c-:  11- :iors. 

•* Tracts  of  the  Revolution"  consists  T-f  elrLt  :»a.z.:'Llet=.-  in^sily 
h^ljlish ;  *"  Tory  Pamphlets "  of  niae.  frozi  Ri-rii^rT.oL's  Press,  at 
Inr  York. 

There  is  another  class  of  books  of  interest  not  :!^:-rlor.  Th-y  are 
which  illustrate  the  early  Frerjiiii  zilssi>n-  ii\i  vjya.^ea.  Mr. 
rks's  interest  in  which  is  well  known.  VTh,  med.ri'?  to  huy  at 
ion  the  first  picture  made  of  Niagara  ?  H*:rre  i^  ihr  title. 
!  HEyjfEPix.  Louis.  Nouvelle  Dec-juverte  d'an  tre*  crra^i  [I'^y^  s-irui  dans 
UB^riqae.  entre  le  Nouveau  Merique  et  la  M-r  Glaci.il-.  av^  ]^^  C-rtes  et 
li  Fibres  necessaires  et  de  pla«  rHLstoire  N-iTurr'.le  *rr  M  'rj..  -.  et  Wa  avm- 
■(nqu'on  en  pent  tirerpar  Tetablissem.  des  colons.  11'^,  Amiterlam.  1G98- 
mt  printed  in  Utrecht  in  1697.  Thi«  copy  ha?  no  maps,  but  contains  two 
■paving  one  of  which  is  a  view  of  the  Falls  of  Niagara.  —  the  first  ever 
fiblifhed. 

There  is  an  unusual  number  of  the  recent  reprints  of  the  Jesuit 
iflsfinnfi^  and  some  of  the  original  publications :  the  original  John 


4 


232 


Contemporary    Washingionian  Poetry. 


Smith,  Thevenot'ji  Recueil  des  Voyages,  aud,  iodeed,  quite  loo  is 
of  these  early  authorities  t^i  name.  ■ 

One  ciuinot  but  regret  to  see  a  collectiori  so  well  balanredfl 
taining  so  many  uniques^  and  united  by  the  suiiporting  tliread  of 
comnmndinj  mind,  broken  in  pieces.  There  is  only  this  sat;  '" 
that,  if  it  IS  fairly  brought  bt^ffore  the  public,  those  will  fijid  ^ 
and  by  the  law  of  selection  these  several  treasures  will  be  distriiii 
where  they  can  still  be  of  essential  service  ia  the  study  of  histo^ 


COXTEMPORARY  WAHmNGTOKIAX 

Mr.  Hjlvex's  recent  paper  ia  the 
transactions  of  the  Worcester  Antiqua- 
riau  Sortety  recalls  Xo  mind,  in  goad 
season  for  the  piirjic-ie;*  lA  the  Wii^li- 
ingtoii  number  of  **  Old  and  Ni:w/* 
the  name  and  fame  of  that  forgjotton 
pi>et  of  American  freedora,  and  har- 
monious t'lcgi.^t  of  Oon,  Wasliington, 
the  Kev.  George  Riduinb;  "  rninis- 
terinjj,"  as  one  of  his  title-pajjes  iu- 
fonns  US,  "  ta  the  first  Universal 
Society,  Portsmouth,  N.  11/'  We 
necii  not  r«*peitt  Mr  Haven's  ob^er- 
vatioris,  to  which  we  refer  both 
the  imtriotic  bibliographer  and  the 
general  reader.  We  shall,  hovvevor, 
transcribe  a  few  passag**9  from  the 
coiupoiii lions  of  Mr.  Ilichiird'*,  m  illui*- 
trationa  at  once  of  the  condition  of 
American  poetry  at  tlie  end  of  the 
ladt  century,  and  of  the  modes  of 
thought  which  then  prevailed  about 
Wiishington  himself.  For  this  last 
purpose,  in  deed »  a  certain  fair  discount 
must  be  made,  to  allow  for  the 
fervor  of  the  mnse  and  for  the  enthu- 
Biasm  of  tlte  official  eulogist 

The  pro<luctions  in  question  are 
one  [MXMn,  entitled  ^*Tlie  Declaration 
of  Independence,  accompanied  bj 
Odes,  Songs,  &c,,  adapted  to  the 
Day  J**  two  hymns,  subjoined  to 
the  first  part  of  **An  Historical 
Discourse,"  or  obituary  sermon  upon 


Washington,  ddlrercd  nt  Poi 
and  six  moro  Ityuiua  and  ^.i^^ 
joined  to  tliii  second  part  oi 
The  Jint  of  these  piuilai 
a  degree  of  <*nterfmjM!^  nn* 
comm<^nded*  « 
jack-sere vr  pr 

the  signers  of  the  l>cclar:UiQn« 
the  fetters  of  his  Terse*  lie  do6 
same  by  clivers  fureiiyu  imifjer  ita 
which  he  putriott 
requirement  of  E 
ognomjy  as  in  tht»  following 
which  thus  eoutiuu-**  an  i^na 
of  Dritiish  fttroiutios:  — 


Fill  Uic?se  ilrcAtl  Mxnej  Uio  t 
Ah  \  no.  —  F^  wotvw^ 
nixiiun  ; 
AirspATc  11,  UeS9£  Camu,  a:U  I 

ftx*5. 

Ami  deajiote  goad  xXvnn  xo  Col 

phiin. 

DvAth,  tte^ulntiun*  Britnin  fitalk  im  i 

Ftttc's  curtain  dmws.^ —  Tha  mgtdj^ 

bc^un. 

Having  completed  tfaiA 
"calling  of  the  roll  of  tlie  Ho 
recital  of  the  political  iKrho^^ 
Old  World  whii^h  answ<s 
American  Declaration,  and 
meration  of  some  of  tho  dtid 
lutionary  heroes  iithI  i 
decisive  influence  in  lii 
gle  ia  attributed  in  the 
stanzas  to  \Vik<hingtonj  ivho 
posed  to  appear  in  answer  to 
peal  of  the  goddess  Freedom  : 


ConUmporary  WashingUmian  Poetry. 


233 


m  WASHINGTON  ihaU 
ise, 

cbe  wild  war ;  or  bid  the  battk  oeaie; 
; :  —  the  life  infoxiate  tempoBt  dies : 
ik  wen  the  rminbow'd  bign  of  peace. 
ilvsh,  to  Kc  their  great  SrrBUOK 
MFve  ; 
tfxn^  31  TSiAiM  fold  him  in  the  arms 

fLOTL 

re  are  a  good  many  notes  to 
lem.  elucidating  in  a  very  wise 
[ie3>tions  of  history,  biography, 
xiil  allusion   and   natural   sci- 

iuclading  the  Bohon  Upas, 
Greek  fiom  the  Xew  Testa- 
pihres  justificatives  from  the 
ation  itself^  a  prose  list  of  the 
k  &C.  Last  are  appended  an 
lem,  composed  for  Thursday 
ig.  July  4, 1793,"  which  has  no 
iptible  share  of  metrical  and 
J  qualities;  then  comes  a 
.  by  an  Indian  Chief,"  in  an- 
;  an  Ode,  and  another  Song, 
parencly  meant  for  the  same 
L5  occasion.      In    these   minor 

by  the  way,  thouj;:h  not  in  the 
c  poem,  either  the  audior  or 
inte-r  has  a^lopted  the  very  j?eii- 
nd  convenient  Spanish  rule  of 
ing  a  question  point  (inverted), 
ir^*t  question,  as  well  as  snffix- 
le  at  the  end. 

RichaiJs's  historical  discourse, 
red  in  two  partf«,  Jan.  26  and 
!2. 1800,  is  much  like  the  other 
JT  discourses  on  Washington, 
rins  at  once  in  the  high  senti- 
J  style  and  orotund  key  which  be- 
I  to  its  class  and  period,  and  keeps 
ht  <m  at  the  same  level,  through 
fbor  roomy  small  quarto  pages. 
itt  sentence  will  sufficiently  il- 
tt  this  manner :  — 
Ten^  Brethren,  and  Fathers,  of 
9n/ety! 

J%er9,  Brethren,  and  Friends,  of 
name! 
bath  pksMdihe  most  high  God, 


'in  whose  hand  is  the  soul  of  every 
living  thing,  and  the  breath  of  all  man- 
kind,' to  remove  from  tliis  transitoij 
state  of  existence  the  first  of  Citizens, 
and  the  best  of  men.  the  good,  the 
great,  George  Wstohington,  Geueral- 
isumo  of  all  the  armies  of  a  confed- 
erated continent,  first  Piesidi'Ut  of 
the  foederate  States  of  America^  and 
General  commanding  in  chief  the 
military  power  of  the  Union.*' 

The  eight  poems  which  this  inde- 
&tigable  celebrant  annexed  to  his 
discourse  are  two  hymns  and  four 
odes,  sung  at  the  delivery  of  the  dis- 
coun$e;  and  a  dirge  aud  a^Iasonic 
hymn  for  the  municipal  and  Masonic 
ceremonies  at  Portsmouth,  Dec.  31, 
1799.  They  exhibit  the  following  va- 
riety of  metres,  viz.,  long  metre;  com- 
mon metre ;  long  metre  with  two-line 
chorus  (also  in  eights);  long  particular 
metre  (six-line  stanza,  eights)  ;  and 
short  particular  metre  (sixes  and 
fours). 

As  additional  instances  of  the  cu- 
rious American  independence,  outside 
of  the  Declaration,  which  animated 
our  poet  to  emulate  in  his  dealings 
with  the  English  language  the  stern- 
est measures  of  his  beloved  chieftain 
against  the  English  soldiery,  we  cite 
verbatim  et  literatim  :  — 
A  Satton$g:'atitnde  and  ^or^, 

Th*  imperktl,  solemn  ixtjuVm  pay ; 
Hi;rh  ttn^rriiioi,  deep  r*sff^ri^ 

To  yrie/  sincere,  devote  this  *iay. 
Chokcs. 
*Tis  Washixgtox,  ir/.o  c'auns  the  figh  ; 
Swd-i  One  full  ht  mi  ;  ividvioudi  tf*v  fife. 

IXXORTAL  P€Ur*<4,  II' to,  Sa;ff  I 

Whose  name  was  >tainp*d  on  VaJor*s  page. 

At  rifinp  jfCHtlCa  aiii-loudt-d  moni ; 
And  round  wbor«  con<|'rin^,  laurell'd  ht-ad, 
A  wivath  of  radiant  plorj-  spread. 

From  virt'ous  imttJiood's  primal  daiftn. 

There  is  really  a  certain  degree  of 
skill  and  power  in  the  way  in  which 
in  the  second  stanza  of  the  "  Solemn 


234 


Contemporary   Washingtonian  Poetry. 


Dirge,  L.M.,"  n  catulogne  of  civic  vtp- 
tu<-'«  h  condeni^ed  into  four  lines  of, 
t\veri^y-<ijg^it  words,  all  except  four 
and  all  the  epiiliets  but  two,  being 
moiioMllubles !  We  quote  it,  with 
the  invocation  in  the  first  stanza :  — 

Co  Lt7  M  It  I A ,  lliitte,  F'  frthm  .tiar  t 

Anil  sweeji  the  plniritive  chords  of  woe; 

A  Nat^on.^  tcAT*,  an  EmfutT**  *i;>h» 

Mouni  WAsnrsoTOiff,  by  deiith  liud  low. 

Tlie  Patricf,  Het^,  Saffe^  comhin'd  ; 

1  he  Gmil,  the  Grmt,  the  Bmtv,  ihc  J  ml ; 
The  Siffi ;  and  fViVnrf  of  huih an  Aim/,* 

Of  men  the  Dent,  of  men  th<3  Ftrtft. 

And  (in ally  we  shall  give  the  last 
three  stauzaa!  of  the  "  Masonic  Hymn, 
C.  M/'  The  first  of  them  refeii,  of 
course,  to  the  generaFs  acceptance  of 
the  chief  military  command  in  antici- 
pation of  a  war  witli  the  French  Re- 
public; the  others  attempt  to  conjoin 
the  symbolism  of  Musonry  and  the 
forms  of  poetry.  This  union  is  accom- 
plished at  least  as  successfully  as  was 
the  rugpfod  task  of  liymning  the 
names  of  the  signers  in  the  order  of 
their  dcJogationSj  m  the  poem  first 
above  quoted.  Thus  sang  the 
Masons ;  — 

In  iVftr,  In  Pranc ;  in  War  agiiia, 

C<>HJMU1A*3  yoke  he  heard; 
A  Mfi.'ift^',  Urol  her  ^  crieil  Ammf 

And  lK)wed  lo  Adams*  word, 

nif*  ^^lV^//Xt'  course  of  <7fory  mn  — 

H' nv'n'r^  RovAJ.  ARCH  snbliiuc, 
'Mid  uttirii\s  hrijrbt  Stni\  and  Light's  full  Stm^ 

Enthrone  His  soul  divine, 

immortftl  Masttrt  Brotlirr^  hnil ! 

AJicQ,  farL'wdl,  adieu; 
Tht^  Ca<t.'iin  sftrtfj,  on  (JhnjB  vttk, 
1*  hatird  in  VirtueU  dew. 

The  sedulous  designating  of  the 
metres  at  the  heads  of  all  these  odes 
and  hymns  shows  clearly  enough 
where  tl*e  poet  found  his  moilek  of 
versitication  ;  and  whatev<?r  lie  may 
have  inflicted  on  the  wortla  he  used, 
at  least  he  drove  them  into  un except 


lidm 


tional  subordination  to  i 
of  song;  a  praise   whic 
ways   be    awarded  to  writ^ 
higher  rank. 

Just  half  of  the  seo^ 
the  first  part  is  in  thei 
appendix,  for  the  het 
x\dams,  who  is  prayed 
death,  as  if  the  poet. 
Federal  is  t|  would  in  til 
mantle  of  the  decea 
upon  his  successor  in 
therefore  he  aiid  his  priod 
entitled  to  a  share  of  the  | 
of  Gen.  Wasliingbon. 

It  is  imp*iasiblej  in  read! 
rudely  and  sometimes  incd 
Cimstrueted  verses,  not  to  be 
now  and  then  of  the  laudati 
which  the  gentlemen  at  Mw, 
offered  up  at  the  shrine  of  1 
cy's  **  princely  pa  ;  *'  — 

'*  All  hiul  to  the  vessel  of  FccluiiK 
With  liivoring  Uroczes  to  (an ; 

While  niitionj  floek  rotintl  hitn,  i 
ftdmire 
The  Aniliitcct,  Artist,  and  Man. 

Indeed,  they  could  very 
tattereil  entirely  into  niia 
satirically  disposed  critij 
truth  their  defects  are  ti 
ticeablo  cpialities,  sinci 
defects  wliicli  are  the  tm 
characteristic  of  their  peric 
history  of  our  literatuw.  I 
ever  may  be  said  about  the 
of  forms  of  thought  or  Q 
8peei*h,  these  rude  jwema  BTi 
to  overflowing  witli  a  strugg 
press  sucii  a  depth  of  sorro' 
sense  of  loss,  such  an  nttu 
the  nobility  and  purity  and 
of  the  dead,  as  could  not  bi 
at  uM  in  words;  such  as  pro 
love  and  reverence,  after 
allowances  are  made, 
parallel  exists  iu  all  our 
if  it  does  in  any  other 


ritiyj 


A  pro 
:erjj 


Ten  Great  BeKgums. 


2» 


IS  GREAT  RELIGIOSS.* 

stud  J  of  the  great  religions 
rorldL  oatmde  of  Chiistisnitjy 
¥al  desire  to  get  at  their  heart 
appreciate  their  trae  meaning, 
said  to  be  peculiar  to  thii 

This  is  dae  to  two  canses : 
>  the  modern  or  scientific 
iiich  recognizes  the  absolute 
ss  of  eTerj/aet,  and  therebj 
be  facts  of  the  religious  oon- 
ss  of  hamanitr,  even  in  their 
t>tesqae  forms  of  expiesnon, 
'  importance  ;  and.  second,  to 
:  that   we   onlj  nov  possess 

aocamalation  of  the  resolts 
ir]j  investigations,  at  least  in 
ntal  religions,  as  to  famish 
i  material  for  their  intelligent 
£ren  tbe  religioos  sjBtens 
pre  apparently  rendered  mart 
bj  education  in  the  Greek 
n  classics,  hare  gained  saeh 
t<  from  tbese  rerentlj  opened 
LS  to  be  onlv  now  capabk  ctf 
treatment  in  their  relatian 
ther  faiths  of  the  ancieiit 
of  yielding  up  their  swret. 
rive  theologr  hold*  tbe  true 
tbe  andtrr«taa-iiD2:  of  tbe 
thing  ia  bistorr.  tbe  m:«t 
vast  fuct  with  wbicb  bCi*fikfj^ 
iL  i.e..  tbe  faiths  of  znaiikiikd 
lave  crTsXa]lix€>d  in  FTStems 
and  worship. 

le  great  mass  of  knowledge 
isible  still  needed  to  be  popu- 
fcud  brought  togetlker  fr^jm 
:itude  of  books  in  rajicju* 
s  through  which  it  is  scsr- 
I  a  vivid  gronj^ing  wbi'^b 
Ting  oat  the  salient  yxiit^ 
irison  between  the  religiastf 
rd.  as  well  as  summarise 
ential  doctzines,  according  to 


the  latent  nemitM  «f 

these  special  lisea. 

For  this  inporsaiEt  twik  Dk.  CoAb 
is  ia  sone  wars  pecnhadj  iixsed  W 
his  intelLwiBaJ  caitiKjibcitT  asid  ijk 
special  hesn  of  his  sciiibes.  Hm 
^  Steps  of  BesbeL*'  nocioed  tii  a  f^rawr 
nuaiber  of  this  magamie.  at  a  con- 
tnbaiioc  of  t^  ±seic  zmepeic  and 
raine  tovard  tike  hiit^lhffnst  etmnoe- 
hen&kiB  of  the  vppwfiit^  '^iid^onbes 
of  oar  tone.  lAd  hi*  viv^  vsx  **  *JTZtrt^ 
doKj:  its  Tnrtibs  said  Rmgh.*"  «iiivw 
bis  ransjkjkl^  pc^wer  of  evstsr-xtr  ii^tLS 
alien  iBcides  of  thvocicL.  and  Qoing 
them  a  jiBCioe  oiJt  -u*  zare  amung 
tbeo^ogiacns.  Pesiuaps  tiie  ker-^nose 
of  his  raciaiis  hwfks  is  cmtasned  la 
his  TSfy  fitziking  paper  od  ""  £sRfiimk.*' 
priiilied  in  *Tbe  CiEoacum  Zxvnuwsr^ 
Bereiacceesi  reazs  ag«u  and  wirtiifnz&g 
a  powesfnl  pd«a  to  fibow  nbat  the  iimie 
of  podenries  is  past  aud  tbe  era  of 
recoakcaliaaon  is  efnae.  Timt  pgnntnic 
work  max  be  regard«fd  mt  uoi  aupb*:^ 
tkm  <flf  tbe  same  j*r.uc:;i»*-  tt  tji**-  ??»- 
ligion*  ont«i*-  of  ^-XiTHCtai;  rr  Tue 
li-ff    cjf  iie*6r:v  rw'.    LuiiCjr^C   rir^i*;*'  of 

emrtrkcii.?  t:b^  iflinr:;!!*.  ttur.-.i'^r.*** 
ill  G«Tiia.iv.  Jntxi'jt-  aij'J  l^i.-Ciai*^  * 
tike  qtL>t  r*?'.rtJrt  tif  prei-nruitorr  ir.uf^ 
iet  dcriiir  maij  veiHrt. 

I>r.  CiatTK**  r  wurk  'r'niMjir*  of 
tweivf  'jbatTiierh .  '/i  0'»i-u»::u*  i*ii^ 
the   C^L- iiieb*:.    tT  tti*-   l^rMt*    •»!    Afitfc ; 

eBtifci.-*iKn,  '-f?  ti»*-  JLi«ft .  Z'Tn^ti-^-r  »ijd 
the  Zeiid  Ar*;KUt :  ru»r  ^^j-u*-  ■'^  i'^iVV*-; 
aiid  rtj'jH*'  'jf  '^-rrn^'^- :  r.ii*-  ii»'.  i;s»'^i  '.'f 
Kom*:.  tit-  -:-ttt  •/  t:!!*-  :V»rM.»^u 
pw/i'i**  :  tAh-  J*'vmt.  i>?i:Ki«^'  •  4(k'/n4ftH*^ 
mec  liiiC  1*1.41.11. :  f»  r.h  m.  rur.r/Liu'r*.*^/^ 
'jiiitliver  •-»!  h'.i.iii*  iftt»'J  ',»Mi'i  •♦  li*>' 
jici'.oh.  ifc!!':;  fc  *'/Jii*'iu'.'  *'*'/  *■»*•*■  '-^ 
the  Ter  i>..p'.iii»-  teu^l  CiTiff  taurfj^. 
TbeMr  conrpa'Tt  Mttft^i**^ir»^  'V  Cbe 
ofuruncfii  of  these  ipnait  i»j«ft<9ius  v( 


236 


Ten  Great  Meligions. 


faitli  ar©  packed  solidly  full  of  the 
condensed  pmnmican  of  information  ; 
too  compactly,  perhaps,  to  allow  the 
author  to  light  them  up  quite  sntfi- 
cieiitly  with  his  usual  rich  illustra- 
tion and  charming  style.  Indeed, 
this  may  he  called  a  defect  of  his 
b(x»k,  that  while  written  largely  for 
the  iiiformntion  of  those  who  know 
little  ahout  tho  subject,  he  has  been 
obliged  to  use  such  condensation,  in 
order  to  bring  his  matter  within  the 
limits  of  a  single  volume,  as  to  almost 
demanrl  of  the  readers  of  some  chap- 
ters more  scholarly  culture  than  they 
are  likely  to  |>osseas.  And  it  is  to  be 
regretted  that  he  seems  to  have 
altered  his  original  plan,  as  the  work 
progressed  J  giving  up  the  idea  of 
devoting  the  present  volume  to  an 
analytic  account  of  "  the  natural 
history  of  Ethnic  and  Catholic  Reli- 
gions/' while  reserving  the  direct  com- 
parison with  Christianity  for  a  second 
part,  to  be  *'  published  hereafter/'  As 
it  is,  the  latter  is  more  or  less  blended 
with  the  former;  and,  notwithstand- 
ing Br.  Clarke's  remarkable  power  of 
dear  and  conJeused  statement,  each 
is  somewhat  the  loser  by  a  certain 
lack  of  unity  which  results* 

It  is  impossible  for  us  even  to  at- 
tempt to  give  an  analysis  of  the  con 
tents  of  the  full  chapters  which  trt^at 
of  the  different  religions.  We  will, 
however,  in  a  few  words  indicate 
their  general  course. 

Chapter  II.  begins  with  a  lively 
picture  of  some  of  the  peculiarities 
of  Cliinese  civilization,  sketches  the 
life  of  Confucius,  with  a  few  extracts 
from  the  Lun  Yu,  considers  the  Con- 
fucian philisophy  and  that  of  the 
Ta<>»  and  closes  with  a  comparison 
of  Confucjus  with  Christianity,  and 
an  account  of  the  Tae-Ping  insurrec- 
tion. Confucianism  is  stated  to  con- 
tain the  moral  elements  which  belong 


to  Christianity,  but  to  lade  its 
enthusiasm  and  spiritaal  faith. 

Chapter  II L,  taking  Bir  W 
Jones  as  its  text,  procee»l»  to 
the  Hindoo  character,  the 
with  extracts  from  the  Vedas 
the  Laws  of  Manu,  the  Siinkiijd 
Vedanta,  and  Nyaya  philQ(9opbtd| 
the  Hindoo  triad,  and  modem  Hia» 
duism.  Brahminism  is  shonn  tt 
agree  with  Christianity  in  t4$aclrii| 
the  truth  of  the  universal,  ui  '  '  ~: 
spirit,  but  to  need  the  per- 
ment  which  Christianity  adds  tliirwM 

Chapter  IV.  develops  at  BOH 
length  an  ingenious  parallel  b«twai 
Brahminism  and  Itoman  Catholiciid 
on  the  one  hand,  and  Buddhism  m 
Protestantism  on  the  other;  relaH 
the  biography  of  JSakya-muni,  tv 
treats  of  the  doctrines  ami  spirit  I 
Buddhism,  and  of  the  Karma  m 
Nirvana,  According  to  Dr  Clarkl 
**  The  Buddhist,  when  he  says  tU 
Nirvana  is  notidng,  means  simply  tbd 
it  is  no  thifig  /  .  .  .  that  it  is  the  w 
posite  of  all  we  know,  the  contr^io 
tion  of  what  we  call  life  now;  asUl 
so  sublime,  so  wholly  ditrerent  tf^ 
any  thing  we  know  or  can  know  091 
that  it  is  the  same  thing  as  uot]iii| 
to  US,  The  poijits  of  cofi^  ^  *^ 
tween  .Buddhism  and  Cli. 
are  found  to  be  the  ductrinea  ot  |i 
sonal  salvation,  of  rewanl  anil 
ishment,  and  of  Nin'ana,  inrerj)i 
to  mean  "  The  absolute,  eternal 
beyond  time  antl  space." 

Chapter  V.  begins  with  an 
of  the  ruins  of  Perse  poll  s,  de 
Anquetil  du  Perron,  tells  the  U^ 
that  is  known  about  Zoroa  ' 
discusses  the  spirit  of  his 
quotes  passages  from  the  Zend-Avcsti 
aud  treats  of  the  later  developmei 
of  the  P4rst  system  in  the  Bundl 
hesch,  and  of  the  relation  of  il 
religion  of  the  Zeud-Ave^^ta  to 


Ten  Great  BeligianB.                           237 

if  die  VedaaL     The  points  of  contact  extracts  from  tbe  elder  and  from  the 

■f  this    system  and  Christianity  are  pi>3se    Edda.   describes    the   worship 

bond   to  be  the  doctrine  of  angels  and   the   character  and    institutions 

wmd  devils,  the  worship  onlv  of  the  of  the  Northmen,  and  gires  a  brief 

UiHeea.  and  the  practical  riew  of  life  historical  sketch  of  their  conrersion 

■i  a  battle  betwtren  right  and  wrong,  to  Chnstianitr.     They  are  shown  to 

Chapter  VL  describes  some  features  have   famished   to   Christianity   the 

■ff  £gTptian    ciyilization,   its    ritual  elements  of  character  out  of  which 

■■d  its  theology,  discusses  the  sources  Protestantism  was  bom. 

■ff  this  the*>lozyy  and  examines   the  In   Chapter  X.  is    an    a^imirable 

ig   of  the   gods  of  the   three  sketch  of  Palestine,  and  of  the  suc- 

The     connection     of   this  cessive  forms  of  Judaism  from  Abra- 

bty   religious   system    of   Egypt  ham  through  Moses,  David,  and  Solo- 

^vich  Christianity  is  traced  in  some  mon,   to  the  prophets.     Monotheism 

joints  of   ritual,    and    in    doctrines  is  shown  to  be  its   legacy  to  Chris- 

'vkidi  materially  influenced  the  form  tianity. 

«f  the  ecclesiastical   dogmas  of  the  Chapter  XI.  gives  a  careful  account 
Unity   and   the    Atonement.      The  of   the   life    of    Mohamme«i,   speaks 
Vrstical  theology  and  mystical  devo-  more  briefly   of    the    doctrines   and 
lioD  of  Egypt  are  said  to  be  yet  at  practices  of  his  followers  and  dwells 
vock  in  the  Christian  Church,  and  on  Palgrave*s  criticism  of  Mohamme- 
fk  permanent  lesson  of  this  ancient  dan  theology.      Mohammedanism   is 
sdig^on  for  the  modem  world  is  shown  defined  to   be  a  relapse  from  Chris- 
Is  be  ^the  recognition  of  the  Divine  tianity  to  a  lower  level,  going  back, 
m  nature.'*  however,    "  to    pick    up    something 
*  Chapters  YII.  and  VIII.  describe  which  hiul  been  dropped,"  —  the  doc- 
fte  Greeks  and  the  Romans,  the  g^ids  trine  of  the  simple  unity  of  God. 
Wshipped  by  each,  the  chanicteris-  Of  these  successive  stuilies,  those 
i  tit  features    of  their  religions,    and  of  the  Egyptian,  Greek  and  Roman, 
fte   thought    of    their   philosophers  the  Scandinavian  and  the  Jewish  re- 
ftereon.     The  points  of  contact  be-  ligions  will  seem  to  most  readers  the 
tveen  Greek  culture  and  Christianity  most    satisfactory.      There    is    sorae- 
^  shown  to  be,  the  idea  of  an  im ma-  thing    so    foreign    to    our   Western 
I  lent  God,  and  of  man  as  teachable,  thought   in  the  systems  of  the    fur- 
[  fte  conception  of  duty,  and  of  inspi-  ther  East,  that  it  would  probably  be 
{■itioQ.     The  relation  of  the  Eoman  imjmssible  to  render  them  attractive 
aligion  to  Christianity  is  shown  to  or  gracious,  in  the  condensed  state- 
•Bwist    in    the   organization    of  the  ment  which   alone   is  here  j)ossible ; 
I  Cbunh  of  Rome,   and   in  the   legal  and  this  is  particularly  true  of  their 
ckarai:ter  of  the  scholastic  theology,  pbilos*jphical  side. 
1  ■iiich  were  the  bequest  of  the  former  Characteristic     sentences    do    not 
•i  the  latter,   while,   on    the    other  fail,  in   these  chapters,  to  prove  that 
Wd,  Christianity  has  succeeded  in  the   author   is   not   overlaid    by  the 
■btttowing   on   Western   Europe    a  compiler. 

digion  of  love  and  inspiration."  Thus  he   criticises  the  great  Chi- 
Chaprer  IX.  describes  the  land  and  nese  teacher :    ''  The  works  of  Con- 
he  race  which  held  the  Scandinavian  fucius  and  his  commentators  are  as 
ifigion,  iUostntes  its  mythology  by  level   as   the   valley  of    their   great 


li 

but  not  :i4i«im^  r^  our  real  iife.^ 

Hor«^  4^S4>  is  a  parasraph  which 
TY»rv  *U^]jojir«^^y  rereals  rhe  secret  of 
Oho  ot  xho  ni»^T  lorelv  of  the  Greek 
imtliN,  ••  Aphi\^ir<^  Beauty,  was 
tho  )a,^t  ohild  of  the  heavens,  and 
vol  K\rn  fi\^m  the  ocean.  Beauty  is 
iu>t  I  ho  lUiichtoT  c^f  the  heavens  and 
the  t^art)^  hu:  of  the  heavt-ns  and  the 
ivo;lu,  riio  li^htii  and  shadows  of 
tho  sky,  the  tints  v^f  dawn,  the  ten- 
derness o\  clouds,  unite  with  the  toss 
and  curve  of  the  wave  in  creating 
Beauty.  The  Ivauty  of  outline  ap- 
pt*urs  in  the  sea,  that  of  light  and 
color  in  the  sky," 

We  have  thus  far  omitted  to  speak 
of  the  intnxluctory  and  dosing  chap- 
ters, which  trt^at  immtHliately  of  the 
relations  between  Christianity  and 
tlie  religions  described.  It  is  in  these, 
»wever,  that  what  musicians  would 
I  the  Tnotive  of  Dr.  Clarke's  book 


^  Odd    gnoKT    diitiocti^kii 

in   this  pleroma,   or  folnes 
which  it  possesses,  and  whi 
appearance,  came   from   tin 
Jesus.     Christianity  is  oftei 
be  differenced  from  ethnic 
in  other  ways.     They  are  ni 
ligions :    it   is   revealed.      *! 
natural :   it   is   supematorai 
are   human :   it   is  divine, 
truth  is  revealed  truth ;  it 
from  God;  and,  therefore, 
ethnic  religions   contain   tr 
also  are  revelations.      More 
supernatural  element  is  to  b€ 
all  religions  ;  for  inspiration 
form,  is  universal.     All  gre 
of  time  are  supernatural,  m 
part  of  the  nezas  of  cause  a 
How  can  you  explain  the 
Confucius,     of     S^oroaster, 
Buddha,  of  Mohammed,  on 
existing  state   of   society, 
educational  influences  of  itt 


at  Mdi  » 
of  thar  Afpe  tfleaEii  dSE  9^ 
re  im|io»iVuiTliflp  <cQfliiiBiaF 
0.  mt  to  W  aocwinaBd  tihr 
gomside  ^f  iftkBHiMihwi. 
iircc  tsc  iSifitDDCBiim  'Of 
diriiie :  ior  tk«B!»  is  a  •£- 
t  in  all  cttkiiur  3<«B£!$imfi. 
dly  hvBaa  cikimeait  in 
.    J«!5iu  is  as  aoidb  i^ 

mifestadoa  of  Gr»l.     Hrt 
>f  mao,  no  lev  tftom  libf 


>at  £Kt  vhk^  Bdk»  Ji 
etioii  between  ocWr  rxB- 
iristianitT  is  thar  #Aey  are 
i^  is  catholic-  XVejave 
I  of  races  and  nataooA, 
lese  lines  of  d^anancaiMtEi. 
Is  which  God  has  be&sc^ 
ited.  Chrtstiaaitj  is  a 
^n :  it  is  the  religpon  of 
race.  It  ofwfltiwgs  all 
recognixes  no  limits,  be- 
t  as  man.  And  this  it 
e  of  the  fulness  of  iis 
t  derives  from  its  head 
ly  Je^ios  Christ,  in  whom 
'ainess  both  of  godhead 
lood. 

*  that  the  great  mission- 
f  Christitoitj  has  long 
I.  It  does  not  now  oon> 
nations.  Heathenism, 
mism,  Jadaism,  Brah- 
idhism,  stand  beside  it 
kVhat  is  the  caose  of  this 

lolicitj  of  the  gospel  was 
its  fluent  and  full  life, 
to  convert  the  Greeks 
B,  and  afterwards  Goths, 
mbards,  Franks,  Scandi- 
ause  it  came  to  them,  not 
>ut  as  a  life.  But  neither 
Colics  nor  Protestants 
leio  large  successes  since 


-the  Kiailk-  Ans.  lmam&  tff  a  1&. 
CAirissianrx  incaoH-  a  titimel:  mc  a 
OMfld.  ^VluL  -difr  tniik  iitanb.  it 
praflimliy  iofC  ifr  |zxmil  misaimiB^ 
}HWPBt.  It  :nrt  .lnu|!ffi-  inuagiied  ~annii. 
\nja  fliNnrhif.:  3u>  innpfer  nnmnmu- 
omcl  lib:,  hm  nrmmiattfi  a  bmir  i£ 
3imfiBh*ii»  iiiti>  a  zuricl  rrhmrcii.  l*arx 
flpicir^iHik  -sIh-  lihuv  of -itu-  erunnal 
nusBimiBrr  iipirh.  £«cm  tHh-  mi^im^- 
itr  'Of  i\»  •&flimaii  'Sciiibf  -wat-  coz^ 
vBTtBfl  Ivr  JLoioi  miBHianacheb.  mci 
•arahaADBx  !hv  -nnr  -At  iBHdit  tf  i^aa 
hiKt  psnfl  flUfimsBF  of  <OfarifciiiiitiX. 
T%t  uinivflZBiim  of  iim>mi:7  ininiflm: 
of  fChiiieHe  is  our  irvm  dvr  tii  'sbf  af»- 
IHpmi  of  lihf  Sfiiik-  -wuf  nnr  -&»  -wad: 
•df  Cuc&iiihr  or  3'bniteHCuur  misHunui- 
DBS,  btft  -of  -flit  y^vw  TTwttammit. 
The  Cbnnib  jmfl  lihe  oamifl  urt  jonA^- 
^Mt  ^&» 'caaat  {£  "Mb  ixdium.  Onv- 
liisaiiLii'  ftias  hmm  jnmiallT  Bcsessefl  iia 

Fspdl  OmrtAu  buA  iiBeHm%  Oy  lihe 
too  Rpd  'Oreedii  of  'iiniLiidcrzx. 

—  If  tLf  fwamLiuETiuTrutdf  oT  ILndis 
az>d  Mnst^uilis  im*  xci  ht  (T{iiii<«r:«d  ix> 
Ciiri«staiiiiTT.  ir  must  W  d'.uj*-  l»r  3»f^ 
tomizLg  %9  tin*  •uri^itiii]  mtnibu^ik.  We 
must  liepm  1»t  rtio^jgniKfLg  .iLDd  ac- 
oeptiiig  tlMr  mnii  t^h-t  iub^fcadx  jic*- 
fess.  We  mmsu  be  wTil-JTig  to  Itauna 
of  them,  in  ord^r  to  t«abch  tLem. 
Compsndre  tlM«GdogT  will  W^ome 
the  science  of  misfions  if  ii  h-elj*  to 
fthow  to  CLrirnans  the  tra:h  and 
good  in  the  cpe«d*  outside  of  Chris- 
tendom. For  :o  the  Chuiv  h  and  to  its 
sects.  qTiite  as  ma  eh  as  to  the  worid, 
applies  the  sariDg.  "  He  that  exalteth 
himself  shall  be  aba.«ed,  but  he  that 
humbleth  himself  shall  be  exalted." 

Of  course,  this  philosophy  of  re- 
ligion will  meet  with  objectors  on 
two  sides.  The  bigots  for  special 
forms  of  Christianity  will  object  to 
it  that  it  makes  too  little  of  the 
Christian  religion,  in  allowing  «aj 


240 


Ten  Great  Religions. 


validity  to  other  modes  of  faith ;  and 

tht?  bigota  against  Christianity  will 
ohjoct  that  it  makes  bjo  niuoh  of  the 
Cliriatiun  religion,  in  assuming  its 
prr-einfnence  over  the  rest* 

Nererthcless,  we  str*3ngly  believe 
that  Dr.  Clarke's  fundainental  posi- 
tions will  remain,  and  will  be  more 
and  more  contirrned  by  farther  re- 
sults in  the  study  of  the  science  of 
comparative  theology.  The  CHiris- 
tian  church  will  only  be  returning  to 
its  first  principlfg,  in  recognizing  the 
truth  which  God  has  given  even  to 
the  poorest  of  liie  children  in  spiritual 
possessions, 

Tltis  view  affirms  the  supemsitunii 
relation  of  God  to  his  children,  in 
different  measures,  but  always  above 
nature,  —  the  spiritual  world  comiug 
down  and  touching  the  natural  world : 
it  denies  only  his  /^owfrci natural  relation 
tothem,  a  relation  which  hasoften  been 
erroneously  held,  even  by  the  Chris- 
tian Church,  to  be  equivalent  to  super- 
nal uralisoi.  This  is  by  no  means  a 
denial  of  the  specially  inspired  quali- 
ty of  Chnatianity.  In  fact,  the  doc- 
trine of  the  plerotua  directly  implies 
such  special  inspinttion. 

Those  wIjo  argue  that  such  a  sci- 
ence as  this  can  only  he  studied  ana- 
tomically may  fairly  be  reminded 
that  it  is  also  a  scientific  way  of 
studying  a  living  organism,  to  observe 
it  when  its  bones  are  clothed  witii 
flesh  and  blood.  This  is  the  method 
which  Dr.  Clarke  prefers.  True,  he 
ajiproaches  other  rehgions  as  a  CAm- 
tian  student,  but  not  in  any  partisan 
flpirit;  and  if  he  finds  that  the  key 
which  his  Christianity  gives  him  un- 
locks all  the  charuliers  of  faith  in 
which  the  races  of  the  world  have 
dwelt,  shall  he  not  use  it  ? 

A  treatise  going  over  so  great  an 
extent  of  ground,  no  less  than  the 


thought  of  all  humanity,  el 
savage  races,  on  the  most  il 
subjects  and  the  most  subtle 
tions,  cannot  fail  to  be  liable 
cisra  on  some  points.  Nor 
claim  to  be  a  final  statemen 
theme  to  which  it  is  offer 
modest  eoDtributiou.  It  will 
for  critics  to  pick  out  for  i 
points  of  detail  in  so  birge 
ment. 

Thus  it  may  be  said  that" 
terpretation  of  Xirvana  (p.  1\ 
arbitrary  and  without  supp<>rt. 
this  is  to  ignore  the  opinion  a 
ars  worthy  of  respect  who 
authorize  Dr.  Clarke's  vie' 
too,  the  resemblance  which 
between  the  Christian  view 
pantheism  of  Braliminism^  t 
may  seem  surprising,  is  large 
out  by  the  express  st^te; 
Paul,  aod  of  the  great  spiritnj 
ers  of  the  clmrch»  who  bav« 
firmly  held  the  truth  that  is 
theism. 

A    further  completeness  ni 
given   to  the  work,   if  some 
mentary  chapters  could    be 
rated  in   it,  comparing   Chn 
with   those   savage   forms  oil 
whose  rudiments  of  faith  !iav< 
ly  been  so  inti^restingly  descj 
Mr.  Tylor  in  his  **Frimitivi?  Cm 
It  would   also  be  a  matentil 
readers  wlio  are  just  on  the 
old   of  such   studies,    if    Dr 
would  add,  in  the  next  editioi 
list  of  works  consulted,  a  sort 
logue  raUonnee  which  shoul 
such  persona  to  roup  out  e; 
courses   of  intelligent   study 
wide  fields  to  which  he  invito 

We  welcome    this    noble 
its  scholarly  sheaf  of  know! 
yet  more  for  its  generous^  compi 
sive^  truth-loving  spirit 


lint  ^Ulft. 


rAxSi 


if  a  greiit  whole, —  m  i 
sli,  an  Itali^ii,  a 

»f  pore  trath,  bj  tbe  fisrar  of  tkcira 
.  they  do  what  thty  cast  do*  i^  mm 
■bt  do  it  br  trriiig  l«ri.    Taiae  1 
p  books  on  Ait^ 
of  its  life,  the  flower  tlafc 

the  >tem  bat  bear  thb  qTiTnfgMgocg  !■§»  tike  ei^  «•  1 
red  of  men.     It  b  nerer  truer 
great  maQj  fine   things  are 
if  true,  and  connectiiig  nit-* 
lugfaQon,  and  giTti^  the  ooof flOit  of  Ae 
p  race.    A  moal  onikiii; 
^  &iacest  dawn-oUiie  die 
m  seen  br  anj  one  ia  tiie  Botiik  Jtmaemm.    Il 
p  gentlemaii,  haviag  fiNmd  im  feii  eofeole  m  e 
■s  fona  relies,  offered  them  to  haa  own  j 
nt,  geneiaUj  go  fjiiiek  to  pniit  bf  aaj 
ha  art  treasuiea,  hete  delajod  oo  loag  A 

theprae.    ThoempoitiflBof  Aet 
f  are  ahat  in  a  glaoi  eaoe. 

That  bone  ia  the  bom  of  the  i 

artist  haa  etdied  the  ifyhig  ligve  of  a  ] 

ere  can  taH  to  nnderstaad  this  boondleaa  Mnt  of  the 

disliiq^h  ita  diffeieiioe  froni  the  eflbrta  like  it  done  bjr 

ehildbood  of  the  aaTage  lacea. 

work  (»Ued  *•  L^Homnie  FoesOe  "  ia  enp^ved  an  etching 

bone*     Thflt  repreMnts,  with  great  spirit,  a  mastodon 

r  and  at  full  ^eed,  from  the  chase,  and  rearing,  what  even 

did  not  know  he  poaaeased,  his  mane,  in  terror.    The 

his  slate  br  one  of  Dr.  Howe*d  idiots  in  Sooth  Boston 

marked  in  its  Umitation  than  is  the  savage  outline  as 

.  with  these  free  snggeative  Aryan  designs. 


gwr- 


242 


Fine  Arts. 


What  shall  we  say  of  AmericdQ  art  and  its  future?  Ban 
always  predicted  for  us  a  brilliant  oue,  because  we  are  not  eu 
bered  by  the  spoils  of  time,  — our  Muse,  like  the  Roman  girl,  U 
under  the  thousand  bronze  bucklers  of  the  past.  At  any  nm 
are  here  comnungling,  as  in  a  vast  basin,  the  streams  of  aU  the  I 
the  electricity  intertwining  in  a  thousand  rivulets  from  all  Eun 
bloods.  Who  can  say  what  sparks,  bright  with  new  power,  n» 
be  struck  from  their  collision  ?  And  one  of  the  influences  ^j 
Taine  always  counts  in  the  art-history  of  a  race,  the  climate,  isj 
a  new  one,  stimulating  and  exhausting  all  the  human  possilfl 
within  us.  So  that  now,  provincials  as  we  are,  we  may  ham 
art-history  of  our  own.  Till  now  our  English  clumsiness  8tifl 
us,  and  we  are  but  children,  babbling  of  Sir  Joshua  and  Wilkie,! 
haply  we  may  yet  have  something  as  good  of  our  own,  I 

This  weaning  and  oscillation  from  the  parent-stock  is  strilq 
shown  by  our  relish  of  works  from  across  the  Channel.  As  call 
sicians  gave  up  the  training  of  England  for  that  of  Paris,  so  a  n 
distaste  even  of  English  methods  of  art,  and  the  keenest  enjoynMl 
that  of  the  best  Frtjnch  school,  has  of  late  come  about.  An  Amd 
lady  may  almost  be  said  to  be  the  ideal  figure  for  whom  the  Fk 
modUte  slaves  and  dreams;  and  so,  perhaps,  nowhere  in  the  won 
a  relish  of  the  beautiful  works  of  the  best  Frenchmen  more  eiu 
than  here.  We  are  of  their  academy,  and  are  proud  to  aedl 
children  to  their  schooling,  I 

But  here  is  the  point  for  which  we  have  written  this  artied 
can  absolutely  be  shown  that  the  method  of  the  French,  as  eooH 
with  that  of  other  European  nations,  is  the  best.  The  questfl 
how  to  apply  it  here.  In  some  degree,  that  method  is  so  comiOB 
with  the  facts  and  beauties  of  French  nature,  that,  in  some  ciJ 
the  effort  to  bring  away  the  true  method,  they  export  French  ■ 
phere,  French  nature,  and  French  figures  as  well.  That  is  I 
where  we  are.  On  the  one  side,  an  untravelUng  crowd  of  bo| 
young  artists,  seeing  their  own  unschooled  ways  neglected  fofB 
happy  men  who  have  sat  at  the  feet  of  Troyon  and  Lamhira 
their  opinion  somewhat  caricaturing  our  native  scenery,  are  noW 
tent.  Their  friends  of  the  press  bark  and  bite  up  and  dowa 
columns  of  the  art-articles  of  our  evening  papers,  and  fomeJ 
quarrel.  They  call  this  good  method  of  the  French  '*  FrenchyJ 
are  wrong  ;  and  complain  that  an  American  elm,  as  painted  bjfl 
rivals,  looks  like  a  French  oak,  and  they  are  right.  They  mustfl 
understand  that  the  clever  men  have  all  gone  over  with  adhefl 
the  method  of  the  best  French  painters.     They  must  ooU 


Tke  W^gmer  Fim&mil  «  SerHaL  S^tB 

it,  foft  it  is  good.  They  nraat  -thmiHiR^^^  leani  i£B  ^emmie 
;  one  with  X«tnreV  kdSl  emulK£&.  inBse&d  of  dejireaiiaizig.  ibe 
d  stndeiit.  StUL,  it  is  mofit  uBCunil  md  exciiuiukr  ~iiia£  all 
>iild  be.  Wbcai  ve  Imxe  a  fitattih-  amd  luwtjriii^  litdifiu!  of  our 
ised  upon  t2>e  gx>od  IsndiiCigie  md  £riBr{^iuetiiodi>  of  Fruiic&. 
ih  an  Ameiicui  nfie  of  Aiiifni(ani  miaeruik.  aL  w\L  at  xticuit- 
In  the  good  tame  eamiiig,  wnsA  £a;jtuMil.  of  ^lioni  Alkian 
t  heiald, — AUstooDL,  winb  lik  adlfsociciBm  irmL  uL  lute  exJCtiJitnitm 
t,  with  his  de^aa^dfiolnik^ciolan.  ■ndhk'inoni!  file^rHsioii. — "due: 
1,  or  that  Claade,  wheoi  eomeu  wiQ  mat  all  xiat^t  lictiif  animoai- 
shed  about  his  feet,  amid  "fbt  pnd^  and  exLuhaunL  uf  n  imrvgr- 
oome. 


lis  Washington  nonLbea-  •of  -^Olp  j&jo)  l^x^w.*'  ^k^  anr  aiik  id 
kir.  Greenoogh^s  fitiodj  <A  lads  duEEaoter  in  hk  -Saiab  :  and  id 
it  Mr.  WHliams^s  aeeonst  of  libe  anginal  ma^  and  Tdkt  iniiier 
ntadons.   See  pagiesSZl-i  of  liis  mmibezu 


AGSnSB  FBSTTTAL  IS  MESL-    tj^^^  daC  iL  caiURigueiiut-  i£  tittr  nB* 
Tjy  Ailwarbixig    iiotonsftr    of'   'dii:   wm,   at 

.  ODoe  diaiiiavffd  Ui  ucuirirr.  wiiitHi.  t»r 


t&K;  tame  irtetsteB*  HSTrvffci.  bud  VLvnak^ 

liose   pledged,  in    admirKtiox  eiHid   »   g>2iHsn4l   jmuiii     uiitiGipin.iutr 

wet.  to  the  "^  mitsic  of  the  fo-  and  curiimirT. 

lie  chief  musical  erest  of  libe  jQh;   KLuHuiu&iif '  Vufuii    uf    'h&JUi 

71  is.  TmdoabtBdlT,  Wa.gi«ar**  (jmnshsnu^  iurr^x    uuufjcmt    jxnA^i^ 

nsit  to  Beriiji.     A'OocwutK  cif  fidauiiil  nxuHititau^     yi^pwr^u  '•i/  vmu«ir 

cipal  inddenti  hare  ifipuurtfd  imu  au  arLktat  prbtJuMtp  iii   aiMr  j.nu 

eading  mnncal  jooriaaic :  WL  ^  it  'mctLi*^  {:rr»?L    i^j  a  iKji«««jt    uT' 

I  we  hare  seen,  none  of  tbeoa  edkestara  cunn»'JH»iii  iff  utioat  uut  iiuu- 

iealated   perfectly  to   nsCMfr  dmd  nKsmtitffi-    tif   -ciHr  ITieivu^     Tm; 

tef's  fiiendsy  or  to  pwaciil  tike  iisKt  ztskMsanoki  v^Kii:  iiiu'i^r   A^irL:    ^. 

in  ita  foil  aad  tnie  fwopor-  PzufesMir  Juizu^   S'at^ru.    ta     ia'j'j'^ik 

>   his    opponentB.      We    sn  pLk^Mid     ciuiitru'.TLur     uf     wja»>-Hpresftd 

e  impdiled  to   atteaipt,  eren  sjespiDiaticqDu  }'jr»dbu^^  '!:ii*r  buniu^^tf^  i^ 

late  boar,  to  siqipij  dciuak  liiif   SKitrrib^  im-   '.•r'/b^try    drj^'^'^r, 

'  wanting,  and  so  to  oomlAJue  -vitii  a  iew  wjr.xk  ^A  zTh:^^*^y-^  >A 

ith  such  as  bave  aheMhr  beea  tLe  rt:adiLirt;w  -vrjiiL  wL^v-b  ib«r  arta^-u 

1,  as  that  the  Ameiicaa  pabSie  fna/ssii   Itkd  rrjO  ;szrjaffT*?i    xh^ir  Mrr* 

lia  ao  hanaoniows  and  ooiae-  Tiwsi   idr  ti>e   yajyjkft   *A  t^u^i^ius; 

w  of  the  whole.  the  p«rt-«impc*er  ^A  ^  Taiiiiiiiuabwrr,'^ 

lews  of  Wagners  pnrpoie  to  ^  Lo!t>«Dgnl^"'  Akl,  ui  a$ipruf«ia.t<e  w*rl- 

adin  first  became  known   in  oome  to  tLe  mperiaJ  dtj,  aijd  be  ex* 

f  aboai  the  ouddle  of  A{vi] ;  pressed  hk  aanniucie  that  ther  w/yuld 

long  rwpara-  assist  to  the  best  of  their  aMitj  ia 


244 


The   Wagner  Festival  in  Berlin. 


r 


the  endeavor  to  offer  their  guest  an 
ovation  that  would  really  gratify  him. 

Wagner  arrived  April  25,  but,  in 
a<.*corUaiice  with  his  re<juest,  the  oom- 
plimcntary  matinee  was  postponed 
imtil  the  30th;  and  in  the  mean 
time  he  delivered  b<^fore  the  members 
of  the  Musical  Union  an  academic 
oration  upon  **  The  Destination  of  the 
Opera,"  which  won  applau&e,  even 
&om  many  reputed  opponentd  of  his 
theories*  This  event  was  followed 
by  a  complimentary  entertainment  at 
the  Hotd  de  Borne,  on  April  29,  at 
which  were  present  about  one  hun- 
dred and  twenty  gentlemen,  repre- 
senting all  spheres  of  art,  plastic, 
j»oetic,  and  musical.  The  address  of 
greeting  on  this  occasion  was  deliv- 
ered by  Mr.  W.  Tappert,  the  ingeni- 
ous author  of  *'  Musical  Studies,"  &c., 
and  was  in  substance  as  follows  ;  — 

"  Germany  has  just  ended  victori- 
ously a  struggle  whiih  for  centuries 
ghe  has  carried  on  with  her  Romanic 
neighbors.  May  the  contest  which 
has  long  raged  between  German  and 
Ho  manic  music  now  also  come  to  an 
end !  This  contest  turns  upon  the 
question,  'Should  truthfulness  of 
expression,  or  euphony,  be  the  high- 
est principle  in  niuj^ic  ?  *  On  the  one 
side,  the  best  men  of  the  nation  have 
ever  been  found  j  on  the  other,  the 
multitude.  Let  us  hope  that  this 
struggle  between  opposing  principles, 
which  has  been  carried  on  in  our  day 
with  greater  bitterness  than  at  any 
previous  period,  is  at  last  fi.n]shed. 
May  the  present  fleeting  hours  leave 
behind  them  more  than  a  pleasant 
remembrance  for  all  who  participate 
in  this  festival,  and  may  they  im- 
plant the  «eeda  of  an  enduring  rec- 
onciliation between  the  opponents  1 
This  should  be  accomplished  here, 
in  the  centre  of  the  new  empire,  but 
wliich,  musically  speaking^  is  at  pres- 


ent a  Babel,  where  every  mill 
guage    is    spoken,   and    wlj 
disciples  of    the    German 
often  would  fain  hang  their  I 
the   willows,    while    their  c 
would  apparently  prefer  to 
harpers  themselves  hung  ti 
greet  this  day  as  the  beginii 
better  time.      Our  effr^rU 
expression  in  two  names,  th^ 
o^  which  declared  war  agaiq 
thing      Romanic,  —  Web) 
Wagxkb!       They    remind 
the  future  of  our  music  rest^ 
supports,  diligence  and  cour^ 
us  then  firmly  resolve  to  do 
and  as  our  ancestors  in  th 
blies  clashed  tlieir  swords 
token  of  assent,  so  let  m 
glasses  with  the  cry,  ^  — 

"  Eln  Hoch  dmn  tnmblSMl^  Wd 
Dem  Relin"l>f«t«iu  von  tdlen  i^cbtndli 


in 


igpti4 
dtlig 


Wagner's   reply   wm 
heartfelt    wonls,    which 
company   entirely    en    rapp 
himself;  and  the  evening  pa4 
in  toasts,  replies,  and 
cial  intercourse. 

On  the  following  day^ 
inatinee  of  welcome  waa 
Sing-Akademie.  The  audil 
composed  exclusively  of 
guests,  and  it  may  be  stati 
indication  of  the  general  inte 
in  cultivated  circlesi,  that  wi 
ty-eight  hours  of  the  matim 
five  thousand  written  af^ 
for  cards  of  a*lmission  wtn 
in  to  the  Board  of  Direct 
Musicians*  Union. 

The  programme  consisted 

I  We  tr«nftlat«,  lUtlcUtr^  tbe  pum 
th9  orlftnal :  — 

X  healtli  to  iht  |lrrlt#t  HH>W1 
And  lo  all  iiidii«trlout  llve^. 
Jl  httaHth  to  all  true  great  onei, 
▲  thaodtrrlflg  be«aai  U>  kim  «M 


The   WagfoGT  F^t^iLvsu  in  I^cri^^n 


iddress  bv  Dobm.  rKd^M  "br  Tn» 
nted  dramaiic  ^rdst  hzia  rciciciuir 
t  Zachm&nn  WiLgm^T  cribf-  Kioir- 
ri  nieces  and  alstc*  of  rwz'  nf 
pers  own  c(>m|*:iFrD:ci&.  "  Ajl 
itare  to  Faosi.*'  asd  irifr  *  Tmo 
Kircli^  from  TaiJiJUbaswr.  Pn- 
r  Julius  Stem  kid  i^  itcmei. 
Mnsie-direcuir  Tiihd«*irfclT  Liit 
t  Ab  Warner  i^iii-trtid  -Oit 
acc<Hnpani«Hi  ^t  llnsic^dirwmr 
pnarm,  the  whcfH-  anditzi^:*-  r^xib. 
aniTed  ibeir  cher»  ^:'  lij*-  jfait^ 
of  the  orchestTL  TL«-  ^zu  11:^:0. 
vhich  Afme.  Z&c-nmkLii  Wkciter 
wed  the  eloQ-a'riiT  bddr*»  cif 
Be.  and  the  £rt  azid  Kitirn  cif 
ithesrral  renderizj?  c*f  t^  zuub:- 
(lectionft.  were  jieifw^ir  irrefii*- 
The  esthxifiasm  -vu  niiCiuuud- 
nd  the  applaui9«e  l*cxsr  iorui  il 
A.  As  the  jieifasTniiAKif  cuit- 
d.  Wagner  vent  up  cizi  tc>  tijf 
;  and.  addresedzig  Limse'if  tc-  Uit- 
emen  who  h&d  izi  rnrs  l»ic  Lit 
u  and  also  u«  iLr  jierf'.tnuerfi.  L*- 
ased  to  tiena  miL  vitLt'i*  *»ni;«- 
lis  sincere  ilikti*'  fc»r  iL^^ir  w*i,- 
rvhkh.  h^r  hSLil.  "wk^  Uie  L..ru**Kt 
K  hoxi>r  :L^  Likd  er^r  tKHsL 
ned  upon  Lim.  and  o:^  ku'jIi  im> 
ad  nerer  azitirfjiuutd.  Ht  lur. 
piaise*  u;<fik  :Le  or'/ii»*Ktrh  :  and. 
ed  with  the  idei  of  wodutTToip 
a  splendid  baitd  of  jieri:«niierh. 
odiij  acw^df:^  Ut  tL«-  ncjuettt 
he  woold  k^  ci>e  j»i»t'.:t;.  and 
fid  the  piiriiege  c»f  dj-tst^Liiip  u 

KJOB       of       his        -OrMTiUrt       U' 

le  aadse&ofr  waf  eBrajcurtid  wi^L 
cnexpectcri  tan  of  ufiain- :  for 
Ber's  z^fZiius  as  a  dim'.aor  Lad 
so  nr:T«-f«Aljr  admin.*id.  and  bc> 

in    l^s^  that    21  WM    known 

errbodT  bj  repotatjun.  and  aD 

eager    u»    buaoaie    auqaaiui«d 


wnjL   -aieir  ruiifl:   u     lut    amiirruriki. 

k  witri  iir  Twi  "ii  ~ih  arju^jtrm.  rMr:*-L 
Lit  imiin.  —  uhl  "iieL  "in    ■  .  •v.jrriLTt 

hit    uuditiEs    -Lict    L   n»*7    y*TTtija-|,iL 

rtj^Rm'Ti*  iruiL  "Ht  nut  wt  uai  iir:C 
iitiurL.  Tut  ur:utrtr:rL  mttmitrL  Hut- 
dtai'r  If  IK  llli«L  VTA.  -nt  Hiirr  «if 
uUt-  wore  uuu  iulii»F-uir  •jurrt:iii*7- 
uUtiir  nt'v  iiiudiST \  u^rm\uA:^  ••zai-r: 
BiCiiuifc.    uUt«r  ni    iiiuxrwr  iiit\''fU    mn 

TTiaif  uUt  liuL  Hzll.  rfcrfiiuua»it  vi":l 
^irt-  tuniuhuiiuh  uinimum-  'uu:  r**- 
vurutfL  -Kir  nioHT  tiirilimr    iHirinni*- 

kU(»i.  WnpiUT  r^fUt'WttL  llir  t'::?lr-^- 
fiiiiiif-  irf  cru*iru(it-  ii  tut  iir:ii».-H"rt.. 
uU*^  uudi'iu'.:^..  X.uHi'-dirK».ni»'  ^'uuu^ 
wtj;*u.   unc:   !rnji    nttiru.   wui>*»t    in:*;-- 

uitn  wiwL  iut  uuiiuuiiiiKL  uvimivu.. 
u:zij;iuri.  dirt:n::iij:  K-.^irtf»r'-j»»?t  !»*•■- 
l'jnuau':t;fc.   ut    i::iii.?*Ji*    uut     a**)iu''"L 

Z'lit  fT'tmt*  IF*  'u*  Hn»ri:ii!j,  •.".»kiC 
niiT  iiiL  11  muL."  L  u***",  lUl;^•••-^«.  iM 
u;r»L  faL  ]ir»?s*!ii:  um.  miii-  t::.*"  .uk 
Klusrt^    UUL    li*J*a    I'lTT    *ui*.ir»  -1    1  L4':i;.i:l. 

w*T*  11  IK  h«*?i.  i:ur.ii»—»*{.  uniuuc  Mif 
'jt»m;»i>Mt;r.    i»t    •:i»i!i:';»-i:ii:*ft      11       ::;«i* 

ttfurt-  (if  :.ut  ii'.:';iwsi'.iK.  uuc  ii;»;/r.'''"i'  y 
reiU'.rLun;  1:  itju'  t  ru*.  h';vii*  'V  hu'.-i.  u 
run  i"u.*i'»i-  iV'.i:  '.«i.'v  mh  uai.- i':i-! 
iairr.  nu:  uis-.  luui  *  V  Mi^mt  wir.  •  tv*- 
u:i8it]»:»rt!ii*'ii'.i»'C.  .1'  *-'  *M  luu*"..  •.»n»"-i',fe 
a*  h'.iUi*.  i*:Uu^.?>•^  '.»'  Vi  ;  ^i,»'r  e  j»«M.".i*^ 
u'Tiry  aniL  »'j?KL'ist  uii'.:  '.'.r:'.!';   nu'.*  'i^r 

i:a^  IUb'.i»    1*'V"*'r    •:.»li'.:ehhi'.»Ti*   Iv    !»!</../- 

i:isi*^c  liU'ai ■.»,-:*« let  :l  uiit  UitJ'.»iv^ .« «.i 
auu  }»ra'rL,i'.:i«^  u'jv.i'ju'.-y.  arU•\t*^^.  ki'.t'i 
puTBu;:  t*i'  in*  layu*.  tiiuij  iiu*  fc.njr 
uLber    iiring     uinup'jber  c»r    auubvf^, 


246 


The   Wagner  Festival  in  Berlin, 


eliared,  at  lesist  for  the  time  being,  \)x^ 
enthusiasm  of  his  avowed  admirers 
amoug  professional  musicians* 

But  far  from  allaying  the  eager 
iuterest  and  curiosity  of  the  public, 
tliis  matinee  only  heightened  both, 
and  reudered  every  one  impatient  in 
the  highest  degree  for  the  grand  con- 
cert which  Wagner  was  about  to  ^ire 
in  the  Opera  House,  in  behalf  of  the 
"King  William  Association"  for  the 
relief  of  disabled  soldiers.  We  had 
indeed  witnesse<l  the  atithorof  **  Con- 
cerning the  Art  of  Directing'*  con- 
duct one  of  his  own  impa*ksioned  com- 
positioua  with  an  army  of  virtuosi 
under  his  lead ;  still  it  had  been  a 
purely  impromptu  performance,  and 
in  the  Opera  House  he  was  to  direct 
an  orchestra  carefully  disciplined  be- 
forehand by  himself  All  distinctions 
with  regard  to  place  were,  for  once, 
entirely  forgotten  iu  the  general  rush 
for  tickets,  mauy  representatives  of 
the  higher  circles  of  Berlin  society  oc- 
c  upy  iug  regions  two  or  three  tiers  above 
their  accustomed  zon^^  the  parquet. 

It  would  indeed  be  difficult  to  de- 
termine from  which  point  of  view,  the 
artistic  or  the  social,  this  concert  pos- 
Bessed  the  greater  significance.  The 
Emperor  and  Empress  j  the  Princess 
Frederick  (Jharlea  and  her  daughters ; 
Tansjg,  the  **  hero  pianist  j  *'  ^  Joa- 
cbim,  the  **  king  of  violinists ;  *'  Weitz- 
maun  J  the  most  distinguished  pupil 
and  successor,  as  theorist,  of  Moritz 
Hauptmann  ;  the  composers  and  di- 
rectors Max  Bruch,  Eckert,  Stem, 
&c.  J  the  music-loving  and  Wagner- 
admiring  American  Minister,  Ban- 
croft; Lepsiua,  the  world-renowned 
Egyptologist,  ^ — these  are  but  few  of 
the  many  names  which  we  might 
mention  to  indicate  the  quality  of 
the  audience  assembled  in  the  brilliant 
auditorium  on  that  eventful  evening* 
1  Slooe  writlDif  the  above,  alu  t  diud. 


Sovereigns,  noblemen,  dipk 
statesmen,  scholars,  poets, 
phers,  authors,  com  powers,  ma 
plastic  artists,  —  all  wer* 
thitlier  by  the  magnetism  of  ( 
nius  of  the  philosophic  popt- 
who  has  turned  the  operatici 
npside  down  by  his  doctriaw;  1 
a  most  striking  and  wonderftil  «s 
of  one-man  power  / 

Nor  did  the  event  fall  bek 
high  expectations  of  the 
What  we  then  listened  to  i&J 
way  of  tone-corn  binatioBSt 
colors,  &c.,  is  just  as  inJei 
since,  as  it  was  inconceirahle 
that  evening.  The  prognunm*! 
prised  Beethoven's  C-mi nor Symff 
and  four  compositions  by  W* 
the  new  **  Emperor's  Marth,^ 
**  Introduction  to  Lohengrin/*  *'^ 
Departure,  and  the  EncHft 
by  Fire,''  Irom  the  **Val 
and  the  Jtnals  from  the  first 
*'  Lohengrin.** 

The  arrangement  of  the 
worthy  to  serve  as  a  model 
si  mil  or  occasions :  a  space  9U 
to  accommodate  the  principal  ( 
and  chorus  had  been  compl«ti 
off  ^m  the  vast  recess  behia 
above  the  scenes,  by  wooden  " 
that  no  sound  was  lost ;  and  iti 
was  quite  that  of  a  hoge 
board.  In  this  tastefully  de 
room  the  orchestra  was  marsh 
8  rising  platform  which  oconfi 
background  ;  while  in  the  ] 
the  chairs  for  the  chorus  (divid 
two  eq\m\  portions,  which  sat 
each  other)  esctended  across  th^J 
front  of  the  stage,  occupy 
whole  of  the  space  from  the  i 
stands  to  the  foot-lighta.  Xb 
both  acoustic  and  scenic,  of 
rangement,  was  so  fine  that 
justified  iu  describing  it  thus 
larly. 


The  Waffmrn-  Fmlmai  »  Acrin. 


247 


menbcis  4)f   di« 
XB,  aanmbi^on  the ati^ev 

tlie  oeHnpOMer^i  amYBl; 
iainwdtaftali'  mwated 
m,  aitualed  exactly  in  tin 
the  AUtetjr  Mxar  of  ibor* 
ftgiii«  a  man  under  ^^'rfg*^ 
with  m  msiMTt  heid,«ovcfid 
c  growth  of  ihoft,  Boo-gim j 
ead  lo%f  bcMd,  and  al- 
ladicalar;  hinder  put  of 
loand  aod  veij  fiiQ ;  €7«i 

et,  aod  eamffgt  in  expraa* 

aicbcd  and 
MKith  egpriiim 
tloo,  aod  chin  of 
My  bidieatiDg  a  feaxiesir  d»- 
Tbtis  looks  Wagifter 
ert-«MMa.  Of  the  gciita] 
odniw  aDdcoidial  tamper- 
ak  we  breathed  forth  tit  so 
lii   eoQipo8itio>nSy  and   are 

tmuuked  in  social  isiter- 
I  hinif  not  a  tiace  ti  to  be 
m  and  there  he  ezeieiaee 
mdMoce  only  the  cold  £w- 
^  a  great  artist,  cooactoiia 
er,  aod  obrio«is1f  loll  of 
Bfjaace  to  hi^  art.  He  is 
Qaemoitioiial,  reserred,  sel^ 
jDi^npadietie,  To  one  a^ 
le  third  aectian  of  Wag- 
ti^^'  it  b  naneeMsaiy 
not  eren  *^^hA/* 
A,  in  hisdreoi;  lor 
to  be  teiTiblj  eoo- 
that  reUtee  to  'one 
id  pradplesL  We  ahniwt 
him  of  deriTiog  a  little 
ttpj^qncottsciogg)  enjorment 
iboolate  indepeodence  bj 
hieh  he  ooaM  stand  for  the 
tof  a  three-boms'  concert, 
dttsfoad  npoQ  the  im^ie* 
tef  of  Geniumji  and  with 
of  a  red  sUk  handkerchief 
fiQBi  m  Aether  coat*pocket 


the 


alei/  tvm  tfe  aeid.    Kol  m^  tfe 

codeetty  bait  CTOB  the  j^sb^  rehfiAoalut 
ween  dincied  torn  mtemorj;  aad  the 
waj  in  whidiy  with- 
hewuahl  stop 
earthing  waa 
tticaO  ftira  aew  hi^- 
ten,  or  twe^  mens 
the  iMt  panig,  or  hefiMii 
the  kn  meaiaie  In  G  m^im,  K  fltttp 
JccL,  aa  the  case  night  be,  did  not  Ul 
to  iipieiM  tiboae  fwtnnate  -efto*^  to 
be  peinent  with  the  ooimction  that 
there  ia  no  other  aitiee  Hvisf  whoea 
acKil  and  nund  axe  so  thoronghlj  fiDed 
with  mneic;  and,  abore  all,  who  faae 
hie  nutticnl  kaowiedipe  nader  the  eon* 
trolof  hie  wOl  to  the  sane  degeee  aa 
Bichaid  Wagon.  If  we  were  to  ai- 
tenpt  to  deecribe  Wagner  the  di- 
teetoc^  we  cowU  not  do  it  better  than 
in  worda  which  aie  eqaalij  a^licahle 
to  him  aa  a  conipoeeri  and  ea  a  re* 
Ibrmer  in  the  spbens  of  the  opera. 
He  ia  the  imreljr  endowed  tmpetioiui- 
tioo  of  wiU;  with  hii  almoet  supers 
human  energ]r  of  will,  he  exercises  an 
aU-snbdoiiig^  aU-conuoUing  influence 
upon  the  peiCormers  within  the 
range  of  his  giaace ;  and  the  differ- 
ence between  what  Wagner  and  other 
eren  distinguished  directors  are  able 
to  effect  with  the  self-same  band  of 
plajers  and  within  the  same  hour  (as 
in  the  Faust  OTerture  just  described)^ 
is  in  no  other  way  to  be  accounted 
lor,  A  single  glance  of  Wagner's, 
accompanied  hj  one  of  his  gesturesi^ 


wr^ 


im  BtrBm. 


tfe  Mjtliie  imi^  of 
?     Wbttfc  an  t^onii^t  i 
to  hetf  6r  iIm  flm  tiof  I 
m  oi  tfe  lalfiiig  gKiMps  «r  I 
the  tei0  of  Ibt  «cA«r»v  i 
dmrtjr,  dii^Bcc]  j.  ^od 
ao(  ooljr  in  /^fts^  bit  ^ 


!    Wkk  vioft 
«e  we  fillod  bf  ^ 


Ifc0 
if 
dbfObor 

ikmg  oad  mging  and  tvcIliBg  if 
wsrea  apoo  wmiiei  of  iOQB^  nlil  oor 
inti^iMeljr  excited  pettlnqi  fotwiw 
fiod  libcftj  oad  nAd  im  tho  i^jt^ 
nicoOj  pffocw  mod  iiiCThoiiatibiy 
rieli  aad  loll  flood  of  Hannoajr  at  tho 
colminatioii.  No  wooder  ibmt  oreii 
the  celebrated  and- Wagner  critic  of 
''The  Berlin  Nalk>oal  Ttmca,''  Otto 
Gontprecbt*  exclatiited  io  hb  rmew 
of  tbia  concert,  "  Warmer  is  a  horm 
directs  !  *' 

Both  the  public  and  the  pieso  were 
alilce  unanimoud  in  pronoancing  the 
reod<^nng  npon  thi»  occajsion  of 
Beethoven^B  C-minor  Sjniphonj  the 
finest  in  cooception  and  most  fault- 
\m%  in  execution  that  has  ever  been 
hrfun)  in  Berlin,  Every  instrument 
ho'i  l>een  trained  into  abm>lute  per- 
f*:'ctiou  by  the  indefatigable  director, 
and  a  living  bouI  hail  been  infused 
into  oach  melodic  and  harmonic  voice. 
Who  that  wai*  present  can  ever  for- 
get tho  indea^rilmbl^^  m*dtiM{^,  soft* 
ly  pent-'tniting,  and  sweetly  flowing 
Ltoneii,  (^choe»  from  fairy-liind,  pro- 
loced  by  the  dynamic  regulation  of 
Uie  honiD  in  tJie  tlrst  movement   of 


to  omtod  i 
irh«c»fe 
luil  oMoodiy  been 
by  die  defitfiopeiwi  of  the  wa 
ta  tho  oit^b^tss  of 
The  betf  coitiHiofttal  to  tho 
judgiDeiit  wilh  wbidh  thii 
oxpcnmioiii  v^  mode  ia 
tko  QOOoaaHPoa  approval  vitK 
its  R^ndi  wao  tvcetved.  In 
of  tlie  «i08t  booiitiftil  eOecti 
aymphooy  (that  of  th«  horu« 
fpokea  of)  via  owing  eotirelj 
oroetidaH^iii  of  thia  nature. 
It  m  baidlj  necesfiatj  to 
thoae  of  Wagoer^a  own 
whkb  were  given  on  tliia 
rendered  with  coDaumi 
even  to  the  minutest  detaiU; 
Wagner  singer,  Fnni  Heti, 
forth  thunders  of  applause 
gioriQiis  rendering  of  the  solo  ** 
Departure,"  Whoever  «tiH 
that  it  is  impo^ible  to  t>9Ddor 
ner^s  vocal  mu&ic  con  amart^ 
ruining  both  voice  and 
should  hear  this  dtdtingutsiied 
in  any  one  of  Wagner's  uperaa. 
thirty-six  years  of  age,  ho  has  alioi 
0<jcupied  for  eleven  yen-  '  ^' 
position  on  the  o^»erati* 
liii ;  whence,  with  occasiotud  vucai 
engagements,  his  reputation  1 
spread  through  all  Germany.  0| 
equally  at  home,  and  a  favorite,  in 
styles   of  aper%  whether   sehoua 


lie  Wagner  Festival  in  Berlin. 


249 


Tkeocli,  or  Italian. 
frilm  Sfe  from  Waguer^s 
\  thme  he  bus  studied  with 
I  diligence  and  with  mag* 
mltB,  Judgmg  from  his 
|i  OPBcert,  we  may  justij 
^■^Bable  perform  ani^e 
^^^B|pro<luction  in  Ber- 
^^^Biia '"  entire* 
|W^%«lmire  "The  Em- 
rch"  when  judged  of  by 
SM)  neverthele&s  of  the 
li  tlie  march  form  is  an 
one  at  the  best ;  and  we 
»  not  th«  lea»t  remnrkable 
tbia  interesting  composi- 
it  so  wtirthily  maintained 
Mp  a  programme  where 
^prch  irith  which  we  are 
IKold  hare  sounded,  by 
iy  or  b«jmbadtic.  It 
:|Qe  in  form  and  Rtyle. 
.that  a  march 
of  eight  or 
*eprUes,  would 
and  unworthy  as 
to  the  Emperor 
He  therefore  wrote 
tied)  steadily-flowing 
lAate,  digniHed^  and 
I  the  monarch  to  whom 
while  the  rich  and 
jes  and  instrument- 
lyona  in  it  mantfej§t  the 
i  Ibe  patriotic  emotion 
10  jia  conception.  As  the 
Bof  Ibe  work,  the  musi- 
|HF  German  reformation 
^^Alioo  —  Luther's  glori- 
p  ■'A  mighty  Fortress  is 
—  id  introduced,  sustained 
ItmaeiitSy  while  the  strings 
v^QffMB%  sturdy  counter* 
powerful  rhythm,  making 
tiU  of  the   noblest,   most 

nniie  to  '« Odin's  Depart- 
.tment  by  Fire*' 


was    the    crowning    feature    of    the 

programme.  With  what  breathless 
attention  we  followed  the  harmonies 
and  tone-colors,  alternately  tender 
and  weird,  which  there  intoxicated  our 
senses !  What  glowing,  seething, 
gleuming  waves  of  sound  lit  fully  rose 
and  fell  around  the  few  artless  melodic 
notes  which,  haunted  by  the  spirit  of 
Odin's  hopeless  love,  ceaselessly  re- 
echoed from  different  regions  in  the 
orchestra,  in  phrases  now  calm  and 
noble,  as  if  illumined  by  the  mild, 
pure  light  of  the  star  of  love,  soon  to 
set  forever,  and  anon,  as  if  in  the 
ecstasy  of  despair,  "  majestically 
mournfult  like  the  roar  of  the  wind 
through  a  forest  of  pines." 

Prima  donnas  have  often  be- 
witched entire  populaces,  and  cele* 
brated  **  brief  but  insane  triumphs  ;  " 
but  it  would  be  diflficult  to  point  out 
the  page  of  musical  history  which 
records  an  ovation  to  a  composer 
such  as  Richard  Wagner  received 
upon  this  occasion.  The  warm  ap- 
plause which  followed  the  firet  piece 
("The  Emperor^s  March")  grew,  by 
the  time  Beethoven's  symphony  was 
ended,  into  a  storm  of  bravos.  The 
Introduction  to  Lohengrin,  "  Odin^s 
Departure  and  the  Enchantment  by 
Fire,"  were  succeeded  by  almost  un- 
precedented avalanches  of  bouquets 
and  wreaths  of  choicest  flowers,  which 
shot  swiftly  through  the  air  and  fell 
at  the  composer's  feet ;  and,  at  the 
close  of  the  programme,  **  The  Em- 
peror's March "  was  loudly  re-de- 
manded. 

We  will  close  this  perhaps  too  long 
account  of  W^agner^s  visit  to  Berlin^ 
by  quoting  from  an  **  Unmusical  Ob- 
server," who  thus  writes  to  a  Berlin 
journal  with  reference  to  the  man- 
ner in  which  the  artist  received  the 
enthusiastic  demonstrations  of  its  al- 
most idolatrous  admiration  from  the 


Tk€  Wogfier  Feslioal  in  Berlin 


■  mt:      ''As    that   tu- 

muiii..  >  Lu  of  julilaut  applause^ 
tiiQUsaua  iroiG«j'^  and  iiisatiab1e«  burst 
upoa  bim  aft  the  la^t  measure  of 
tlie  C-minor  S  mphotiy,  — ^  aud  luterj 
after  the  niuction   to  Lobeiigrin 

and  the  J  i  itment  by  Fire^  when 
a  ralnbow-nued  cataract  'of  flowera 
and  wreaths,  denser  and  richer  almost 
than  hae  ever  rewarded  **  Our  Pau- 
line "  (Lucca),  —  mucli  more  any  di- 
rector, ^ —  plunged  down  uj>on  him 
from  above,  ereo  then  his  ea.h  ivi- 
ty,  the  dignity  of  the  man  i**^ 

tions,  who  haB  long  been  accusi 
regurd  himself  as  the  incarnatit>«j  ^i 
the  cau^  most  sacred  to  liim,  newer 
for  a  moment  deserted  him.  Ko 
emile  of  gratified  vanity  waa  to  be 
■een  :  no  kind  couce^siooB  to  the  en- 


a  m 

ithti 


thusia^tic  demonatrationa  of  tl 

lie,  ad  from  a  soul  feigning  **  p 
emotion  ; ''  and  yet  the  mo^t  ek 
though  silent  expression  of  ttl 
ings   awakened   in   such    %  iA 
were  visible  in  the  almost  im 
hlj  quivering  mien  and  io  the 
inclined  figure,  round  which 
cians  crowded  with  all  the  tob 
inner  agitation." —  **  The  voiofl 
people   has   spoken    audibly 
That  voice  is  said  to  be  the  vi 
God ;  and  willingly  we  leave  il 
called   and   t mated  advocntes 
opposition  party  to  combat  its 
ui>on  the  Titanic  work  and  geH 
EiCHARn  Wagneb.^' 

Albebt  K  P4: 

€OBL£MJ  on  TfU  RHIMK,  Jolf,  tSTl. 


Recorb  of  Pcogoas. 


TOUNG  MEN'S  CHSISTIA9 
kSD  THE  WESTCRX  FISES. 

:  the  news  of  the  gnal  dk- 

Chicago  reached  the  ovtet 
eopie  were  bewildered  and 
,  so  that  sober  thoa^t  be^ 
lost  impossible.  Then  came 
ise  desire  to  reliere  the  sai- 
id  with  it  such  an  oatpoor* 
sympathetic  charitj  as  the 
d  probabl  J  nerer  before  seen, 
the  sudden  derelopment  of 
spread  a  spirit  of  Idndliness 
nerosity  seemed  to  manj 
1  adequate  compensation  for 
:bief  done  bj  the   relentless 

Nearly  everybody  gave 
\g  to  aid  in  the  work  of 
ich  and  poor  labored  side  by 
hi  the  character  of  many  a 
ited  at  depths  of  sympathy 
itly   expressed   in   the    mere 

value  of  the  article. 
e  r>»m5  of  the  Boston  Toong 
nrUtian  Union,  much  of  the 
•le  work  of  the  city  was  done  ; 

much  kindliness  was  there 
lanifest,  both  by  workers  and 
that  a  few  words  concerning 
he  Union  achiered  will  not 
miss  to  the  readers  of  ^  Old 
tw." 

le  news  from  the  homing  city 
:  coming  over  the  wires,  and  be- 
i  flames  had  been  extingui^ed, 
Mtfd  of  (jOTemment  of  the 
hdd  a  meeting,  and  decided 


tD  opem  t^  Boonw  ftriiw  BKBodoa  of 
gifts  fig  the  suflBJLBiA  ThsoffiEsdiif^ 
thia  ditrisMrn  wan  mads  futiin,  mad 
eoombatiaaa  began  uo  acc9>L  As 
izat  tdiey  came  siowiy.  lite  tae  ^rac 
drops  of  a  sbower;  bat  soon  tiksy 
flowed  in  in  stBeaau.  :same  pefipiK 
gave  aHmey,  same  eiatai:n^  ami 
odieB  bediiin^  One  maa  sssis  a 
bedstead^  laMWdifirr  gvn  ZMih  mxtv^a. 
and  a  third  a  veaz  Mid  poiea.  F«Mid 
was  giTen  also,  bos  auc  la  lur^fB 
oaantzcie&r  said  AateAy  at  porsaaie 
htm^  CrackerSy  eaouusd  meaci  and 
■oops,  and  eoodemied  milk  wen  the 
most  imp<^rtaat  isems :  and  ooh  dmt 
of  wine-^ieaitifs  seac  a  ca^ie  of  <^«u^^ 
fomia  wine. 

At  dr*t  uhe  'ionazions  w*4r*i  r^*>r:r^i 
in  a  iitxLft  pjnm,  bmtk.  of  tai»*  e»m**L ax- 
room  ;  and  a  few  j-m:!^  aura  jr«^r% 
kept  cooitanriy  b'wy.  -vvrinj.  ^itLai^ 
ing.  and  packing,  Car^u  Vmta  of 
all  artides  wer^  kept  as  dut  p^tic.n;^ 
went  on.  anid  oar  yoimg  m»tn  ¥^»^ 
found  themrtelTiis  bewi]d-Br»^  h»y  vc^. 
perplexing  ipeciminu  of  Utrtksikin  ap^ 
parel  &r  wiii«ih  no  oaoMs  v><xLd  h*^ 
foond.  Acci>riin'^y  the  ladjes  w«?« 
called  ia,  bar  none  too  sooci ;  ft>r  the 
work  ha«i  !«pr«i:a«i,  int  into  th«  read* 
ing-room.  ani  then  into  the  re«rr^^ 
tion-roivcn.  nntll  the  kahUiUM  of  th^i 
Union  were  banished,  with  th*rir  n^^wv 
papers,  to  an  apartment  abore.  The 
library  was  closed,  and  the  whok 
lower  fioor  of  the  Union  given  op  to 
the  charitable  work.     One  room  was 


252         The  Boston  Toung  Men' 9  Christian  Union, 


devoted  to  the  **  Mending  Committee," 
oue  to  women's  garments,  and  another 
to  nien'8  clothes.  And  from  thirty 
to  forty  persona  soon  found  them- 
selves drawn  into  charitable  labors, 
with  material  for  work  ficeuinulating 
luster  than  they  could  attend  to  it. 

At  quite  an  early  date  the  public 
ficho^iU  of  the  city  became  interested 
in  the  good  work,  and  began  to  send 
ill   contributions,   chieHy   of  second- 
hand clothing,   a    wagon-load    at    a 
time.       Thus    over    three    thousand 
bundles   found    their   way   into    the 
Union   rooms.     The   material    there 
gathered    together  waa    sorted    and 
packed  as  rapidly  as  possible,  much 
of    it   going   to    the    mending-room, 
much  to  the  washer- wo  man,  and  some 
necessarily  to  the  rag-bag.     Indeed, 
8ome  of  the  cloth mg  sent  in  by  school- 
children    was     exceedingly    ragged. 
One  member  of  the  Union  w*ho  was 
sorting    pantahxjus     says    that    one 
specimen  consisted  of  two  holes  at- 
tached to  a  pair  of  suspenders.     It 
seemed  tis  if  every  child  in   Boston 
felt    bound    to    give    something.     A 
teaclKT  wrote  that  some  of  her  schol- 
ars had  given    clothing  better  than 
they  habitually  wore  themselves ;  and 
one  little  girl  sent  a   hat,  saying    it 
was   tiie    beiit  she   hnd  had    for   two 
years.      Some   of    the    schools    sent 
money  also  j  and  on  the  list  of  registers 
I  find  this  entry:  "From  scholars  of 
the    Bowditch    School    who    had    do 
clothes  to  give,   S7.50,'*      One  child 
gave   a  silver  half-dollar   which   had 
been  a  present  to  her  a  year  before ; 
and  a  little  boy  sent  two  dollars,  which 
had  slowly  accumulated,  cent  by  cent^ 
in  his  tin  savings  bank.     And  on  sev- 
eral Oi-casions  children  came  in  from 

the  street  to  give  ten,  fifteen,  or  twenty 

cents  to  the  poor  suiferers  a.t  Chicago. 

After  a  while  packages  began    to 

arrive  labelled  *'  For  Michigan,"  **  For 


Wisconsin,**  «  For  Pe^htigo,^  or, 
be  sent  where  most  needed." 

^Liny  of  these  came    from   ta< 

outside  of  Boston;  in  fact>.  the  Un 

received   contribution*    from   oroi 

hundred  cities   and   Tilliige&     1^ 

Maine  and  New  Hampshire  st^ 

goodly  number  of  packages  thio 

the  agency  of  the  Union.     MosI 

these  packages  were  opened  aa  I 

as  received,  in  order  to  learn  tlw  < 

dition  of  their  contents.     Many  i 

nailed  up  again  immediately,  and 

as  they  came ;  but  others  needed  c 

ful    repacking.      Daring    this   i 

many  odd  and  some  interesting 

cles    were    brought   to    light, 

little   box  was   labelled    "Ribhl 

for  girls  to  tie  their  hair  with." 

coat    was    marked     "  My    wedc 

coaf      A  little   girl   aent  her 

and  another  a  suit  of  doU^s  cloi 

each  giving,  perhaps,  the  thing  i 

est  to  her;  while  a  man,  who  evi* 

ly  knew  the  bitterness  of  prira 

sent    a    cigar,    **  With   the  ooi 

ments  of  an  old  smoker.**    A  ( 

many   packages   contained   slipt 

paper,  with  wonis  of  sympathy  ' 

them,   w^hich  were    scrupulously 

warded  with  the  goods.     So(m«4 

these   slips   were   affixed    to  sp 

articles  J  as,  for  instance,  one  fl 

was  pinned  to  a  pair  of  baby  s  si 

knit    by   a  lady   totally    bliml, 

hoped  they  might  keep   some 

feet  warm.     There  were  also  nu 

ous  eccentricities  in  the  way  of  | 

and  in  addition  to  the  usual  sup 

of  bedding  and  wearing  apparel» 

found  bundles  of  garde n-si*cd^,  r 

and   strops,  lung-protector»,   sti 

ery,  sewing  raaterialj*^  hanks  oft 

hooka  and  tractci,  holdew,  soap, 

fiors,  spoons,  knives  and  forks,  I 

blankets,  bed-curtains^  tin -ware 

crockery,  and  an  old  lady^s  false 

of  hair.     In  a  single   lot   of  | 


The  Boston  Tcmng  MmCs  ChrUHan  Union. 


253 


les  m  qittntt^  of  txedfettt  dolli- 
l|M  florid  ifas«0  p«dci  of  eatdt, 
^«*»"^^  tw«  flitid4npi,  m 
M^-lampv  titiee  fiui^  two  p^m- 
«&  iakjtud,  ^  tt«ti4l-bo3c,  mad  m 

peh  oC  l&«  wock  done  m  the 
m  WM  oC  m  Teiy  Dotewortl}  j  diar- 
L  Bdtii  licii  »i]d  poor  mited  m 
Lndiefi  ^mn  tlia  faigjiesl  imaks  of 
t4j  ri9H«d  t&e  cooots  daj  alter 

C"'  sort  and  pack  aad  sew;  while 
col  m  wdl  able  Co  give  all 
rinke«  gaToaU  tJiojooaJd.  Tail- 
in,  ail«r  wQtktag  hafd  all  daj, 
P  ip»d  tlieir  eTfninga   at  the 

PtvKvoa,  leviiig  fiar  the  Miifewia 
WesL  Aikd  idiookmiitffBiw 
Ml! J  offeted  their  terficea  daflf , 
bool-hoofa^  but  emi  saciifioed 
aad  tiaH4iolidaj9iy  id  ocdex 
[  the  good  wotk* 
r  ij«t  lot  of  goodi  aeat  to  Chi- 
from  the  Uoloo  waa  tewaided 
the  hindzieaB  of  the  Toimg 
Cluktiaxi  Aaafxtatloti.  The 
ehaiteved  a  car  to  go 
the  diatieoied  dXj^  and, 
florae  apace  in  it  to  fpare, 
that  ipacse  to  the  Uoioii. 
I  hiad  oiler  waa  aooeptody  and  the 
OMitisbQtioffes  from  the  Union 
&e  AfworiaHoo  thus  rtartad 
fbm  so  the  Tfamadaj  after  the 
^Tba  Anodation  eent  chieflj 
Hpd  the  Unioa  clothing.  The 
Hitaehed  Chicago  in  prime 
HpMit  atratght  to  the  snferers 
Kid  Ott  the  praiiiefi^  and,  accord- 
^%ne  of  the  goferanieot  officiala 
^g»d  in  the  dkirihotmiy  prored 
I  the  fiiil  desiimhle  lot  of  clotfaed 
livl  htm  anj  qoarlery  haring 
^  ""jnffl  in  the  nick  of  time/' 
r  oMifia  the  memheiB  of  the 
IB  wcreaoxiooa  to  know  the  6Ue 
HBO  of  the  gifts  Ibvwaided  bj 

their 


cvrieaitj'  waa  gratified.  Ahocit  a 
week  alte'  the  rwifjagratiwi^  Mr.  W. 
H.  BaUwin^PicaideBtof  tteUawa, 
weot  to  ChicagQ^  wagm 
distzihcttkin  of  sonie  of  dit  good%' 
and  abo  laid  tite  IbiMadatieai  «Rf  a 
Chicago  Vnioo^nadlartothalwhieh. 

OQUiiaittee  went  fbrward,  fjuuMstiB 
of  Mr.  IL  H.  Sptagne,  the  Ber.  Mr. 
Foole,  and  the  Ben  Mi:  Winkley; 
and  of  eomse  these  geatleiasn 
able  io  say  inch  eoaoenuag  the  1 
ner  m  which  the  relief 
worked.  Bot  tfaere  were  jet  oth^r 
soorcee  of  wMmaatioii*  There  la  one 
interesting  JBstaiipa  Shattiy  after 
the  fize^  a  ladf  cane  to  the  roooa  of 
the  Unioo,  bringing  a  package  of  b^jf* 
clothes.  The  bundle  eootaioed  a 
ootfi^  sad  the  giver  wsa 
that  the  whole  shoold  go 
together  lo  some  one  hahf.  Accord* 
iaglj  the  package  was  carefnllj 
labelled,  and  sent  with  the  first 
lot  forwarded  Not  reij  long  aUcr- 
wazds  a  gentleoian  in  Boston  reoeired 
a  letter  fironi  a  friend  in  Chicagoi 
The  latter,  widi  hia  wi^  had  been 
boarding  at  the  Sherman  Hoose. 
Being  driren  oat  hj  the  flameSy  they 
took  refnge  in  Lincoln  Park,  where 
the  ladj  gare  hirth  to  a  chOd.  The 
letter  closes  as  follows:  — 

'^  Three  cbeeis  went  np  for  Boston 
from  our  little  crowd  la^  nigbt  A 
litlie  handle  of  baby-dothes  was 
bfooght  to  OS  last  night,  with  a  label, 
*Fiom  the  Christian  Union  of  Bos- 
ton.^ In  tbe  bundle  was  erery  tbingt 
eren  to  a  narsing*bottle,  a  very 
acceptable  article,  which  we  were 
obliged  to  nse.  Qod  bless  tbe  haods 
that  did  np  tbat  bundle!  a  mother 
most  bare  clone  it.  We  call  onr 
baby  Eva  Boston,  and  we  hope  she 
may  grow  ap  to  bless  the  donors  of 
ber  first  outfit''     The  whole  letter 


254 


Anti-Jesuit  Literature. 


ppeared    in    ^'Tho     Boston     Jour- 

A  word  or  two  in  closing  as  to  the 
extent  of  the  work  already  done  by 
the  Union,  At  the  time  of  writing 
the  work  is  still  going  on,  and  dona- 
tions arrive  daily.  But  up  to  date, 
in  addition  to  nearly  eight  thousand 
dollars  in  money^  tive  thousand  four 
hundrcfl  and  seventy-oue  packages 
h:ive  been  received  mil  attended  to. 
Over  seven  hiindn^d  of  these  were 
large  boxes  and  barrels,  the  remain- 
der being  burxlles,  bagi*,  and  baskets, 
of  various  dimensions.  In  fact,  the 
packages  vary  in  size  and  value, 
from  a  pair  of  ragged  stockings  done 
up  in  a  bit  of  newspaper,  to  the  lar- 
gest sized  packiug-case  full  of  new 
goods,  Oue  donation  consisted  of  a 
lot  of  second-hand  doors  and  sashes, 
to  aid  in  rebuilding.  Many  dona- 
tions of  wholly  new  clothing  were 
received,  some  wholesale  dealers  giv- 
ing very  heavily.  Ono  firm  sent  a 
lot  valued  at  SI, 333;  two  others  gave 
to  the  amount  of  $ljOOO  each,  and 
many  more  contributed  in  smaller, 
yet  »till  large  quantities. 

The  li^ts  kept  by  the  packers  show 
that  six  hundred  and  twenty  cases, 
most  of  them  uen/  large,  have  been 
filled  with  useful  goods.  One  hun- 
dred and  thirty  of  these  were  for- 
warded just  as  received,  and  of  the. 
contents  comparatively  little  is  known. 
Twenty-one  more  contained  food;  but 
the  remaining  four  hundred  and  sixty- 
nine  cases  were  filled  with  articles 
of  which  lists  were  kept  These 
articles  number  in  all  seventy-nine 
thousand  two  hundred  and  seventy- 
three  ;  and  if  we  assume  that  the  un- 
opened cases  contained  the  same 
proportionate  quantities  of  goods  as 
those  which  were  invoiced,  this  num- 
ber must  bo  increased  to  over  one 
hundred  thousand,  in  order  to  repre- 


sent the  sum  total  of  pu 
tlvrough  the  Union.  It  U 
to  estimate  accurately  the 
these  goods.     Probably  oae 

and  fifty  thousaud  dollars 
an  undervaluation,  SuflSce 
that  there  is  cloth inc^  enoug 
more  than  six  thou^^nd 
goo^l  suit  apiece,  to  say  na 
large  quantities  of  bedding, 
this  was  collected  almost 
effort,  and  with  scarcely 
tempt  at  advertising.  Peo 
ready  to  give  without  urg 
rooms  of  the  Union  were 
the  gifts  came.  Canvassing 
necessary.  F.  W.  C 

%*  At  the  suggestion  of  ' 
win  the  President  of  the  Uc 
of  Rev.  H.  W.  Foote»  t»oth 
have  visited  Chicago  and  tl 
district  of  the  South-west,  th 
organized  a  special  Christmi 
but  ion  of  presents  for  chil< 
might  otherwise  pass  the 
without  a  visit  from  Sauti 
The  result  has  been  aoDOtmoi 
daily  journals.  Twelve 
thousand  gifts  in  all  wer© 
Chicago  and  other  points, 
distributed  by  committees 
and  gentlemen  to  all  child] 
spective  of  denominational 
and  the  comments  made  on 
action  prove  that  the  quaul 
quality  of  happiness  thus 
was  a  full  compensation  for  1 
taken.  

ANTI^ESUIT  LITER  AT 
Im  examining  the  content! 
culating  and  other  libraries 
have  been  surprised  at  the  las 
ber  of  works  directed  against 
nits,  either  under  cover  of  a 
story,  or  in  out-and-out  deno] 
of  their  principles,  or  ratliej 


From  our   W€igkingion  Correspondmce. 


255 


fact,  that  manj  of 
Englisby  and  hmve 
Lpttliliabed  recently.  Perhap«,  m 
pmis  hire  not  jet  ^ndered  stiffi- 
t^  from  this  stealthy  foe  to  be 
Ig  mto  €loqa«nce  orer  the  injury 
I  mre  to  do  wbereTer  opportunity 
%  tt  might  be  well  to  republish 
I  of  tbcwe  Old  World  warnings 
•i  th#  paffftng  of  an  intemation- 
|B|)yTiglit  law  (which  all  honest 
ttk  Oft  bolh  aides  of  the  water  are 
ling  fbr)  ahaU  drive  us  into  u^ing 
I  Wii  hains  lor  aur  defence. 
|lir  ftn  iMempt  by  the  Komish 
fffh,  under  the  guidance  of  the 
to  depriTe  America  of  po- 
nd ^iritoal  liberty,  is  only  a 
tiine,  according  to  their 
; ;  though  their  success,  let 
win  be  quite  another  quea- 
■^tiittl  of  possibility,  to  be  an- 
[in  tlic  negative  by  a  united 


people  determined  t>  remaun  free. 
But,  in  order  to  gire  ?tuch  an  an^wrr, 
we  must  not  lie  idle  until  the  question 
be  a^ked.  I  hare  been  assrr^d  sev- 
eral times  since  I  have  been  abroa^i, 
that  our  next  war  in  America  will  be 
a  religious  war,  and  the  most  terrtUe 
one  that  the  world  has  ever  aeen. 
And  tlio^e  who  have  made  this  lasei^ 
tion  are  all  European^  who  have  lived 
some  time  in  the  United  States,  and 
have  studied  the  signs  of  the  times ; 
not  with  the  happy  sense  of  freedom 
and  security  which  is  our  birthright, 
and  which  has  made  us  cart^less  of 
danger,  but  with  the,  perhaps,  pro- 
phetic insight  of  those  who  have 
learned  the  worth  of  liberty  from 
long  privatinn  of  its  blessings  and 
know  that  its  final  loss  is  aooom- 
plished,  not  by  one  bold  robben%  but 
by  a  long  succession  of  petty  thefts. 

E. 


7B0M  OUR  WASHIXGTOX  COERESPOXDENCE. 


^ 


OB9EIIVE  a    bealth^l 

p^rt  of  those  corre- 

preaewho  were  most 

t»  adl  tn  question  the  action  of 

iCoamiasioii  on  the  Civil  Service. 

m  m^m   not  to  be   controverted, 

m  ^htj  proTe^i   that   "^of  eouree 

'^ **  ttothing  could  come   of 

or  its  recommends- 
**  of  course  you  know," 
pd  no  power,  and  '^  of  course  you 
Jr**  Mr.  Curtis  and  his  friends 
I  b«r  wasting  their  time  and  the 
■O^i  on  m  dream*  It  did  not 
$  eonr  to  these  crittca^  that  the 
h^  in  advance,  promised 
tliat  he,  for  one, 
to  be  bound  by  any  hon- 
n&il  well-considered  system 
lliey  shociM  agree  upon.  It 
to  Ibesn  that  they  were 


ftt  work  with  an  entire  good  under- 
standing with  him,  and  that  they 
knew,  all  the  time,  that  thfir  plan 
would  have  the  immediate  support  of 
a  loyal  gentleman,  who  was  perfectly 
willing  to  cut  off  his  own  immense 
patronage,  by  his  own  voluntary  act, 
if  he  could  be  shown  how.  The  Com- 
mission acted  from  the  beginning 
under  such  an  assurance  from  Gen. 
Grant  Kothing  could  be  more  hon- 
orable to  him,  and  nothing  less  like 
the  average  wire-pulling  politician  of 
our  day. 

.  .  .  ,  With  the  re-assembling 
of  Congress  the  actual  business  of  the 
session  begins.  I  shall  attempt,  at  an 
early  date,  to  place  in  your  readers' 
hands  a  digested  aooount  of  the  va- 
rious movements  towards  Southern 
education.       The    president  -  makers 


From  our   Washington  Correspondence. 


are  indifferent  to  sych  plans,  but 
thejr  are  the  mo^t  ijnp:>rtant  meas- 
ures of  real  statesmanship  now  be- 
fore the  eouatry.  Mr,  Hoar*s  pro- 
ject^  or  5K>me  plan  based  upon  it,  mtiat 
be  caiTieJ  into  effect^  if  the  North  em 
States  meau  to  improve  for  the  bene- 
fit of  the  people  the  victory  they  won 
in  arms. 

You  are  aot  likely  to  be  deceived 
by  the  idea  that  the  Peabody  Fund 
is  to  take  this  duty  oif  the  nation. 
The  Peabody  Fond  last  year  expend- 
ed for  schools  at  the  South  $108,000. 
This  is,  for  the  whole  Confederacy* 
less  than  a  third  of  the  amount  speot 
fi>r  curreot  C3£pen3ea  of  education  in 
Chicago  for  tbe  same  year, 

.  ,  .  ^  Can  it  bo  possible  that  the 
average  tone  of  the  papers  tells  as 
what  i^  the  average  feeling  in  the 
Northern  cities  regarding  Fijak? 
When  we  read  that  the  ^*  time  for  ea- 
logvha^  not  yet  come/'  in  one  of  your 
leading  papers^  we  are  led  to  ask 
whether  anybody  expects  it  ever  will 


9U^  I 

1 


come  ?     A  man  who  has  defied 
system  has  died  in  the  isso^  i 
defiance.     It  is  poetical  jus 
aeems  to  me  no  ocoaaion  for  i 
or  tears, 

....  I  hope  you  may  h 
personal  hesitations  about  congi 
ing  the  country  in  the  ^poind] 
Mr,  Charles  Halt%  to-day,  as  As 
Secretary  of  State.  Tbe  four 
wbo^e  opinions  I  have  lieard^j 
all,  are  ail,  of  old.  persons  wlj 
been  coiinected  with  the  T>epm 
of  State,  They  are  all  mm 
Eret  distindrion.  I  &m  afraii 
there  are  not  many  points  on 
they  agree.  But  they  expreai 
selves  without  reserve  in  pralsij 
good  sense  which  has  ealledl 
place  left  vBcant  by  Mr.  Da? 
tleman  who  has  himself  had  J 
a  diplomatic  experience  as 
what  the  relations  of  the< 
with  its  servants  abroad  shou 


LD   AND   NEW. 

Vol.  v.—  march.  1872.— Na  3. 


.  T^gioos  life  of 

cauntiy,  in  the 
reform,  uid   in  the 

much  more  thmn  il  doea  m 
bear  itoprint  of  one  or 

itlon  of  the  people  |o  fifa  bgr  God*t 

do,  either  in  pdvate  IwiiiiifM  «r  in  the 
I  it   shows  itself  thus  m 
times  as  ifetinctly  m  hjr  the 
the  creed-«ab8crihing  of  mmj  put  of  the 
I  geneml  reTeUdon  thus  mide  of  the 


of  the 


is  mlway^  prodaiwring^  m  new  dadamtimm^  ^ka^  the 
^  life  and  deterannation  of  the  eamaiwf  at  la^ge  are 

and  thai  it  sustains  with  pasnoii  erea  that  geoeial  Chriittta 
ent  which  tneo  call  broad  or  Bbaarit  ftfJBgng  cyqjr  aojidiatiop 
Iwink  ttsalf  behind  the  Tetb  cf  the  aanow  ffrlwiairifi 

the  htstoiy  of  eaeh  aect»  withm  its  oaiTowcr  laage,  ahows 
cntly  that  the  liberty  of  the  oomitiy  in  ewaj  thing  indicates 
loo  to  liberty  in  rel^ioo*    The  meat  aiuaeroBS  Protea* 
iy  h  the  great  and  free  MHhndti^  body,  wUdi  owea  its  soo- 
tha  doctrine  of  free-will  at  the  baas  of  its  theological 
admits  that  all  laea  hare  etpml  ptivilegea  before  God^ 
I  all  restrictioo  of  such  piivfleges.    In  the  madunefy 
tt  body  alao^  the  national  lore  of  Gberty  has  now  aaserted 
'  distinctly  in  its  reaolatioii  to  adndt  lay  driegataons  to  ita 
In  the  Episcopal  body  afao*  whose  strength  seeoKd  to  Ue 
i  adhereoee  to  the  Englkh  tnvditians,  it  is  proTed  that  the  little 
of  deigymen  who  are  willxng  to  be  ranked  as  meml)erB 


I  09  is>  Ul»  AMm  Xmw,  Is  ikt« 


V.-Sa  S. 


258 


Old  and  New. 


tte  **  Broad  Church,"  is  stroager,  for  all  purposes  in  conn 
than  either  the  Hi^^h  Church  or  tlie  Low  Church  party ;  t; 
ment  of  freedom,  overniling  in  practice,  in  America,  the  t 
tradition  on  the  one  hand  or  of  dogma  on  the  other.     The 
applies   whenever   the  Presbyterian   or    Congregational 
whichever  t}^>e,  te^t  their  congregations.     Nothing,  for  insi 
been  more  edifying  to  outsiders  than  the  result  of  the  Oberlia 
vention  of  the  Orthodox  Cone^reffational  Churches.     The  smi 


i 


not  wholly  blown  away,  and  the  votes  adopted  are  not  wh 
plained,  perhaps  never  will  be  ;  but  enough  is  known  to  mi 
sure  that  the  "New  Departure,"  so  called,  is  in  the 
freedom. 

All  these  ecclesiastical  bits  of  historj^  of  oomparativelj 
importance  in  themselves,  show  that  within  the  organized 
the  great  law  and  privdege  which  acknowledge  the  right  of 
vate  conscience,  assert  themselves  whenever  they  have  a  chai 
we  have  already  said,  the  great  drift  of  the  national  Ufe,  with  a 
ment  vastly  more  grand,  is  all  the  time  sweeping  forward 
same  way.  The  several  little  Parrys,  in  their  separate  sled 
that  they  must  not  harness  their  dogs  very  tightly,  if  the 
make  any  progress ;  —  then  they  *^  thrash  round  "  a  good  deal, 
very  loud  orders,  and  the  dogs  chafe  in  such  harness  as  the 
and  make  a  good  deal  of  noise  also.  All  of  tbem,  dogs  and  d 
alike,  plunge  forward  as  fast  as  they  can,  towards  the  light  in 
horizon.  Meanwhile,  the  great  lloe  on  which  the}"  are  all  travel 
rushing  in  the  same  direction,  and  would  bear  them  thither  li 
all  stood  still.  It  moves  faster  than  they  do ;  more  maj^d 
though  very  silently,  The  metaphor  is  completely  filled  oul| 
imagine  on  the  great  drifting  plane  the  mouldering  piles  of  tl 
man  Catholic  communion,  firm  in  their  places,  looking  like 
in  the  distance ;  but,  as  one  approaches  them,  proving  to 
lumps  above  the  surface,  which  grow  less  and  less  every  da; 
sun  rises  higher  and  higher  upon  them. 

The  steady  movement  of  the  national  life  reveals  itself, 
of  its  more  remarkable  forms,  as  being  religions  ;  as  being  Chri 
but  always  as  being  free.     Because  this  is  so,  those  religious  Jfl 
which  meet  the   essential   demand  of  the  community  for 
life  are  the  journals  of   largest  circulation  and  power,  if 
be  free,  and  if  all  men  know  that  they  represent  the  liberal 
organization   which  calls  them  into  being.     The  same 

id  of  preachers.     In   whatever  communion,  the  gospel-pr 
who  commands  the  confidence  and  respect  of  the  people  c 


Jtbe 


-1 

le  fl 


Old  and  New. 


259 


mmuon  i&  tlie  man  who,  bj  whatever  means,  has  become  identic 
in  the  public  mind  with  breadth  of  conviction  or  freedom  of 
Ml.  The  **  little  church  round  the  coraer  "  represents  Christianity 
Lhe  moment  to  a  public  conscience  which  is  wholly  indifferent 
le  controversies  of  conventions,  or  to  the  manner  in  which  altars 
!  be  lighted* 

happens^  of  course,  that  the  preachers,  joumalists,  or  other  authors 
belong  to  those  Christian  organizations  which  attempt  least 
I  any  mechanical  restriction  on  their  members,  are  the  men  and 
ea  who  speak  and  write  most  at  their  ease,  in  a  country  of  such 
It  does  not  discourage  or  discomfort  them  to  be  called 
lor  infidels.  They  have  heard  a  good  deal  of  such  accusation 
has  ne^ex  hart  anybody.  It  does  not  discourage  them  much 
\  told  that  there  ia  not  a  large  company  in  their  uniform.  The 
^Boe  of  the  army  must  always  move  in  smaller  parties  than  the 
|y  anaed  forces  behind.  It  does  not  much  discourage  them  that 
faaangemeiits  for  their  daUy  pioneer  work  are  not  as  compact, 
llo  not  show  such  close  organization,  as  men  find  in  the  garrison 
■  behind,  which  these  fi*ee  lances  left  long  ago.  They  have 
p  manna  too  long  to  care  much  for  the  flesh>pots  of  Egypt 
I  if  snch  men  are  called  to  controversy,  why,  let  controversy 
**  Fight  us,"  said  iVriovistus  to  Ca3sar»  "  if  you  choose  ;  but  re- 
\  we  have  not  seen  the  inside  of  a  house  for  ten  years/* 
fresh  freedom  of  work  which  the  authors  and  preachers  of 
sects  enjoy,  they  find  ample  compensation  for  the  want 
r^:nlar  i*ations  of  theological  provender,  cut  up  by  the 
day  by  day ;  always  hard,  almost  always  salt,  and  very 
jtn  be  rusty.  Not  but  sometimes  the  old  experience  of  the 
jfcand  the  promised  land  is  renewed.  Caleb  and  Joshua  point 
^preat  bunches  of  fresh  grapes ;  but  some  of  their  associates 
^Ker  —  as  Shaphat  and  Palti  and  Igal  did  —  the  fenced  cities, 
Hki  and  the  onions*  So  Ei*asmu3  turned  back  after  he  had 
an  the  reformation.  So  poor  Latimer  turned  back  once,  in 
which  he  tried  to  atone  for.  So  George  Monk  turned 
^TS  England  another  generation  of  the  Stnarts.  So  one 
puritan,  whose  names  are  forgotten,  went  back  to  Eng- 
iod  left  it  to  Winthrop  and  Roger  Williams  and  Cotton  and 
111  eatabtisb  freedom  in  government  and  in  religion  in  Amer- 
\t^  CO  the  whole,  the  men  of  the  advance  are  not  dissatisfied 
Oieir  podtion  here, 
Ht  have  Jtad  with  some  amazement  and  some  amusement  the 


260 


Old  and  New. 


statistics  by  which,  a  few  months  ago,  the  careful  reviewers  in 
Catholic  World  **  attempted  to  show  that  the  Protestant  rel 
organisations  were  losing  their  hold  in  America.  The  argi 
applied  siiflSciently  well  to  the  confessions  of  closer  creed,  \ 
their  partisans  are  willing  to  own  that  the  religious  life  of  the  Coi 
•cannot  be  measured  merely  by  the  signatures  to  its  confessions* 
us,  who  represent  the  Liberal  Church  of  the  country,  which,  i 
have  attempted  to  show,  b  its  real  national  church,  the  stat 
of  •*'  The  Catholic  World "  showed  nothing  more  than  the  1 
which  they  taught  a  close-creeded  orthodoxy.  We  cannot  but 
that  some  winter  will  attempt  statistics  in  the  same  form,  unda 
guidance  of  the  new  census,  to  show  how  manj^  of  the  chi 
of  the  Roman  church,  or  those  baptized  in  her  waters,  gain  a 
baptism  as  they  cross  the  Atlantic,  and  are  bom  here  with  a  frei 
under  the  quickening  spirit  of  our  national  life* 


Our  review  of  Owen's  Debatable  Land,  in  the  January  number  of  Old  * 
is  by  Thomas  G.  Appletoa. 

Our  articlis  on  Wai^liiu^on's  Military  Grtjuius,  in  the  February  number  i 
Kew^  ia  by  Gen.  Francis  J,  Lippitt. 

We  m&ke  these  announcements  in  answer  to  numerous  questions. 

We  have  reprinted  the  numbers  for  November,  December,  and  January,  imd  U 
to  answer  orders  for  copies. 


the 


pticn  9t  tlieafTv 
to  be  gieomBj 
&c«    of   tlie  fiKi 
to    Mr.    OrmMwUm,  to 
ftod  to 
II   tlie 

]jett«t9,  tfe  aU 
Imdwtitiiig.      TbeR 

tli»  abort  aad  bi 


or  were  oop 

lor  oa  to 

hr 

Am  aatbor*    Afttft 
iiBprolwbitiiy  tbsl  J»- 
riAo   fdt  eo    d<^eplJ  tbe  villi 
of  |wcamiiig  bia  aiVNlf- 
V  abtmUpsi 
to  be  betts  jed  tbioo^  die 
rmnhfr  tbe  bope  of  levaid, 
«ha  o&  tbe  p«rt  of 

m  utoaiefitxjj  faeliBC  oi 
Ihm^  are  in  tbe 

wbkb   ooald   not    hmw^ 
to  an 


l%yMr, 


i 


262 


The  Handwriting  of  Junius, 


plausibility,  bas  been  made  in  reganl 
to  several  other  persons  ;  and  although 
the  oTerwhoIming  weight  of  evidence 
was  undeniably  in  support  of  the 
ai-gument  far  the  identity  of  Junius 
and  Francis,  that  branch  of  it  which 
related  to  the  handwriting  was  not 
in  sucJi  a  at^ito  that  any  one  could 
utterly  disprove  the  claima  put  for- 
wanl  in  faror  of  dome  of  the  so-caJled 
competitors. 

The  circumatances  which  led  to  the 
preparation  of  the  reports  before  us 
are  in  themselves  curious  and  inter- 
est! ng*  Some  time  before  January, 
1772,  a  Miss  Giles^  who  was  then 
visiting  at  Bath,  received  a  manu- 
fieri pt  copy  of  verses,  enclosed  in  an 
anonymous  note,  which  the  family 
tradition  aaserted  was  traced  at  the 
time  to  Ikir,  Francis,  aftenvard  Sir 
Philip  Francis.  Subsecjuently,  either 
on  the  publication  of  WoodfalFs  **  Ju- 
nius **  in  1812,  or  of  the  fac-similes  in 
'*  Junius  Identified*'  in  1817,  it  was 
discovered  that  the  note  was  in  the  same 
handwriting  as  the  fac-similes ;  and 
a  fac-simile  of  the  note  was  engraved. 
But  after  a  few  copies  had  been 
printed  the  plate  was  suppressed, 
though  it  is  still  in  existence.  Acci- 
dentally learning  these  facts  io 
December,  1867,  Mr,  Twistleton  set 


U{ 


edged  reputation,  a  professional 
ion  on  the  two  handwritingiw  HaiI! 
compared  tho  fac-simile  of  * 
with  the  fac-similes  In  V 
'•Junius,'^  Mr,  Neth»r;' 
a  report  in  February,  J 
he  remarked:  "Fully  alive 
extreme  caution  necessary  *- 
served  in  comparing  the  ha!i 
of  former  periods,  I 
slightest  hesitatioi: 
very  positive  opinion  that  the 
that  wrote  the  Junius  Letters 
also  the  anonymous  note;^'  and 
proceeaed  to  enumera' 
points  of  resemblance,  ui 
is  scarcely  a  single  letter  or « 
between  letters  throughout  iL 
ymous  note  but  that  an 
ment  with  the  same  can  b« 
out  in  Junius's  Letters/'  In 
sequent  report,  dated  Oct.  30^ 
and  based  on  photolithographi 
similes  of  all  the  letters  of  J 
Woodfall  and  to  Mr.  Grew 
adduced  twenty  more  points  of 
blance^  reiterating  the  opin]iNl< 
all  the  letters  of  Junius 
anonymous  note  were  written 
same  hand. 

Encouraged  by  the  saocon 
inquiry,  Mr.    Twistleton   di 
to  obtain  a  professional  op 
the  question  whether  he 


7^ 


himself  to  verify  the  statements ;  and 

after  diligent  inquiry  he  was  rewar*i-  justitled  in  stating  that  th» 
ed  by  obtaining  a  loan,  from  the  could  bo  proved  to  have  been 
family  of  Misa  Giles,  of  the  origi- 
nal manuscript  note  and  verses,  and 
also  of  '*the  identical  copper  plate  on 
which  the  fao-simile  of  the  note  had 
been  engraved."  At  this  time  it  was 
supposed  that  the  note,  whicli  was  in  a 
different  hand  from  the  verses,  was 
in  the  common  hand^vriting  of  Sir 
Philip  Fnmcis.  Accordingly  Mr. 
Twistleton  confined  himself,  in  the 
first  instance,  to  seeking  from  Mr. 
Netherclift,   an   expert   of   acknowl- 


by  the   hand  of  Francis.     In 
quence  of  the  dangerous  illaisasi 
Netherclift,  this  case  was  subfl 
to  Mr.  Charles  Chabot,  another  i 
of  great  reputation.     After  i 
two  hours  in   the  comparisoii 
verses  with  numerous  lettew 
by   Francis,    Mr,    Chabot 
the  opinion   verbally,  and 
in  writing,  that  Mr*  TwisUotO 
not  be  justified   in   making 
statement,  and  that  he  thou 


The  HondwrUmg  qf  Ju 


eooU  be    prov^  nmoAy^ 

Fnmds  luid   noC,   imd  anald 

liAsdvritteii   Use  reomJ' 

of  tbia  opinioQ  be  potst- 

\  onmeitHts  peeuliaiidea  in  tbe 

itiog  of  th«  vcce«  wbieb  were 

I  tbat  of  tlie  lettex%  «nil  munep- 

■liaritie^  wbidi  were  in  ibe 

tticl   Dol  in  ibe  Texses.     It 

to  Mr.  TwistkCoiv  wba 

a  quocmtioa  fRsm  tbise 

I  in  ft  letter  to  Francis  fzooi  bk 

r  lib'*  Kichard  Tt%bmaii,  tbal 

migbt  be  in  tbe  bandwrit- 

ribat  gentiemaii.    It  was  known 

waA  wttb  Francis  i,t 

SecembeTi  1770,  and  Jann- 

«im1  tbe  qnotstiQa  sbowed 

wvre    iamiliiif  wttb    tbe 

'Aooofdingi/  aix    leiteis  writ- 

Tilgbnum  wexe  submitted  to 

lor  tbe   ptupoee  of   a 

I  dMBfttrisoo  witb  a  pbotofitbo- 

r&e-eimile  of  tbe  remea*    Ob 

eireiBination    Mc*    Cbabol 

tbe  opinion,  ^  witbovi  mnj 

wbateret^y"   tbat    Ibe    Teiaee 

!  Icrtten  of  Tilgbman  ''were  in 

adwriiing  of  one  and  tbe  Mae 

Tbia  ofitnloD  be  repeated 

elaborate    repoirt,  dated 

1,  1S68,    in    wbieb    be 

oot  in    tbe    venee    oertaim 

and  habjtB  of  writings 

%%  eeemeOiee^  wblcb  agiee 

I  constantly  to  be  met  witb 

letteie  of  Xtlgbman ;  and   in 

fif  Francta  certain  pecoU* 

uf  babftnai  occmreace  whicb 

i  in  tbe  vetaesu    Tbe  ideiK 

ef  tbe  band  writing  of  tbe 

note   witb   the  bainl  of 

and  of  tbe  bandwriting  of 

witb  tbe  band  of  a  kin»- 

Francifr  wbt^n  taken  in  coo- 

I  witb  tbe  tz&ditaon  tbat  botb 

and  tbe  venea  bad  been 

i  Ib  biAf  ^miahes  another  link 


intbati 

wbick  liofd  rii^tiB 
be  atnMig  CM^  li 
^befbae    aaj    lair 

jury." 

Bat  inlnffting  aa  k  &»  dkeoveix^  ] 
it  ia  of  r€Wf  little  i 
paiiaoii  widi  tbe 
tion  by  Mi^  Cbnbot  of  tke  ] 
tttg  of  Jnniaa  witb*  tint  of  Sir  fU% 
Fmneia.     In  tbe  pwaecti-  ef 
inqaiijt  Hb.  Cbabol  aade  Vie  of  iHtf- 1 
two  enig^Bal  nuMacnpl  leltefa  writ*] 
tea  hf  Wwamm  beiiweett  1767  : 
171%  itf  al  tbe  erigttkal  iimiMi 
of  JnaJM  new  m  tbe  BgitiA  If naei 
and  of  tbe  od^nnb  of  tbe  tbree 
ten  ham  Judm  to  GeotgeGieBraigd 
and  tbe  mmK^  on  die  AactMii  Dnif  J 
wbidi  waa  aeal  witb  tbe  fint  of  dben^  f 
an  wefl  aa  of  i 

copiea  and  fiaoNcbnile^  tnfirfing  tb#J 
at 
of  die 
Mr.  De  Ijidme,  I>c   WHawC 
George  SackYiUe,  MnL  BajvoOt^  i 
Lad  jr  Tenipley  beode  a  ^ 
of  otiginal  letlen  from  edier 
written  daring  tbe  bat  ccnlnijr. 
nowpabiiAed,  Mr.  Cbaboft 
are  Uliwiraled  bj  two  bondred 
ninetjr-^Mir  platea,  awit  of  tbem  pi 
tolitbiigEapba  frooa  die  original  letteg%l 
beaide  oiaaj  bnadied  fiioHmntlea  of  j 
words,   lettet%  and  combinations  of  1 
words  or  kltewy  Inserted  in  tbe  body 
cf  tbe  repot^L    Tbe  reader  thos  bail 
abundant  oeana  of    rerifying    Mr. 
Cbabofs  conebiaiona. 

The  aigntnent  biased  on  these  mate* 
ri^  is  dunolative,  covering  ei^erj 
part  of  the  grotind ;  and  it  would  be 
impossible  to  exhibit  its  full  force 
witboat  the  help  of  fac-«tmile%  and 
withoot  going  into  details  to  which 
it  is  impossible  erea  to  refer  in  any 
sammarj  statement  It  nuiy  bo 
readily  conceded  that  some  portions  of 


264 


TTie  Handwriting  of  Junius. 


it  have  little  weight  separately  con- 
Bitlered ;  but  as  parts  of  a  complete 
stnitrtnre  they  have  a  real  value,  and 
the  facts  on  whicli  they  are  founded 
fairly  offset  similar  coincidences 
which  have  been  brought  forward  in 
support  of  the  pretensions  of  one  or 
another  of  the  supposed  writers  of 
Junius.  There  is  not,  so  far  as  we 
remember,  a  singlfe  argument  based 
on  an  alleged  similarity  of  hand- writ- 
ing or  of  paper  to  which  Mr.  Chabot'a 
reports  do  not  offer  a  satisfactory  an- 
swer. For  instance,  we  have  seen  it 
somewhere  stated  in  general  terms 
that  Lord  Temple  had  on  oue  occa- 
sion used  paper  similar  to  that  on 
which  one  of  the  letters  of  Junius 
waa  written*  The  circumstance  is 
not  of  m^ch  importance ;  but  what- 
ever significance  it  might  be  supposed 
to  possess  is  effectually  destroyed  by 
the  following  statement  in  Mr,  Cha- 
bot's  report  on  Sir  Philip  Francis. 
"I  have  examined,"  he  says,  **in 
every  way  most  minutely  the  quality 
of  the  paper,  both  as  regards  color, 
texture,  and  tliickness,  of  Junius's 
first  letter  to  Mr.  Greoville  of  the 
6th  Februar}%  176S ;  and  I  find  it 
perfectly  agrees  in  each  of  those  par- 
ticulars with  the  last  sheet  of  Fran- 
cis's letter,  written  little  more  than 
two  months  previously,  viz.,  on 
5th  December,  1767.  The  two 
sheets  of  paper  on  which  those  let- 
ters are  written  also  agree  in  the 
followiug  particulars :  The  device 
of  the  water-mark  is  the  same.  The 
initials  of  the  maker  are  the  same; 
and  the  water-lines,  which  are  not 
quite  parallel,  are  the  same  width 
apart,  showing  that  the  paper  has 
been  made  in  the  same  frame  or 
mould.  And  further,  I  find  the  two 
sheets  of  paper  are  so  exactly  of  the 
same  size  and  shape,  both  having 
been  cut  slightly  out  of  truth,  where- 


by the  top  edge  of  the  _ 
not  mathematically  parallel  wit^ 
bottom  edge,  that  I  cannot  i 
that  they  have  been  taken  froai 
and  the  same  quire  of  paper,  i 
furthermore,  I  find  that  the  colwi 
the  ink  with  which  those  two  ]d 
have  been  written  is  the  saoii 
both.  Where  the  ink  lies  tliiair, 
writing  is  pale  and  somewl 
whereas  where  the  writiiK; 
written  with  a  full  pen  it  u  <| 
black.**  The  minuteness  of  thij  < 
parison,  so  much  more  thorough  1 
the  comparison  in  the  i 
which  we  have  referred,  n* 
stroys  any  weight  which  the  clail 
Lady  Temple  might  have  aoql 
from  the  alleged  similarity  of  {M 
but  it  adds  something  to  the  I 
ment  in  favor  of  Francis.  No  i 
Lord  Temple  and  many  other  pel 
used  paper  similar  to  some  n 
Junius  used,  but  the  minute  w 
blances  mentioned  by  Mr.  Chabo 
too  significant  to  be  overlooked. 

It  must  be  evident  to  any  one 
examines  the  letters  of  Junius 
those  of  Francis,  that  both  are  wi 
with  great  ease  and  freedom; 
in  both  cases  the  writer  had  ae 
usual  command  of  his  pen^  and 
accustomed  to  a  frequent  use 
Thus  we  find  that  both  had  an  i 
erate  habit  of  joining  words  toge 
while  Lady  Temple,  Lord  G 
Sackville,  Hugh  Boyd,  Dr.  Wi 
and  others  whose  handwriting 
been  supposed  to  resemble  th 
Junius,  were  entirely  free  from 
peculiarity.  In  one  of  the  1 
from  Francis  to  his  brother-ii 
there  are  one  hundred  and  si 
such  junctions  ;  in  the  letter  of  J 
to  Lord  Barrington  there  ar«  a1 
sixty  such  instances,  and  m  his 
on  the  Auction  Duty  there  ai 
hundred    and    thirty-six     jum 


if 

Irtntin    out  MM  jVMlittt  01 
^  oad  t^at  fiot  m  tlw  bodr  of  & 
aadoofm 

iii6MWxitagaf  Liid 
ffle. 

Mid  IKII  IcM 
of  tlie  &cDitj  witk 
p  umI  Fnacii  iiMd  m  ] 
istlie  tratmeiit  of  tbo 
ieh  i^  lian&ed  bf  ^olk  n  two 
el  WBJ8,  mod  with  Mick  ifiig$|t 
inQA  aa  grre  to  Uub  letter  at 
durtroi  diSo^e&t  fiwiniiiMt^ 
■fcwuica  to  be  dimwn  fooHi  tiua 


aU  them  dilRtrent 
tbtt  lettm  r,  like  those  of 
mte  Ibnned  »  aead  j^  m 
fin  the  eame  ptoportiooi  in 
1  ha&d  of  Juniae  «s  io  the 
[  of  FzaAcis."  FxvMB  the 
Iq»  SUiitiatiODS  of  this  iiaiaik 
ii  hj  Ur.  €twiN>t  we  ean  a^ect 
l»eorthi«eu  ^In  Jomiift,''  be 
«th»if«  are  oae  hondnd  and 
f^iktm  worde  &«;^*Jtniii^  with  re, 
»  Vri'ieon/  *readj/  *reij/  &c. 
I  Iheoe  word%  with  six  excep- 
tjihc  rti  WTittea  with  its  shoul- 
I  tho  /^*  In  FraDcie  there  are 
ittdml  and  thirtjr-two  such 
kattdto  ail,  with  foor  exceptions 
fap  r  ii  wnttfto  in  the  same 


liJa 

id  9bstf-^wm 

I*lr   T^^k,   Last 

Hi^  Bofd,  Gand  Hib- 

Uajd  'mewet  famed    Ae 
r  olbctwiM  Asa  wiA  iti  t 
dertedwr^te' 

the  haodwritiiiipiof  Jvdttii 
ci%  wkidi  are  eWwtaftely 
bf  Mn  Chahot^— aM^  ae  tbatrTRS- 
00a  laodea  of  tensiiiatiiig  irofd%  their 
namier  of  ineeftuig  miiwrilten  or 
omitted  lettef%  and  their  lormatioii 
of  the  ietten  A,  d,  f,  and  ^  and  d 
the  capital  letters,  —  we  oome  to  an* 
other  point  deeerring  special  notice. 
Oalj  fire  letters  are  extant  in  the 
Junian  band^  which  hare  formal  dates 
noting  time  and  place.  With  the 
excej>tjoii  of  the  omission  of  a  stop 
after  the  name  of  the  month  in  two 
of  the  letters,  all  of  them  hare  the  fol- 
lowing nine  pointd  in  common ;  the 
note  of  place  and  time  is  at  the  top 
of  the  letter,  and  not  at  the  foot  or  the 


266 


The  Handwriting  of  Jimim, 


end ;  the  whole  is  written  in  one  line ; 
the  place  from  which  the  letter  is 
written  ia  given  ;  the  day  of  the  month 
18  placed  before  the  month,  and  not 
aft^er  it ;  there  is  a  stop,  eitlier  a  pe- 
riod or  a  colon,  after  the  name  of  die 
place,  one  after  the  day  of  the  month, 
one  after  the  name  of  the  month,  and 
one  after  the  figures  of  the  yearj  and 
the  name  of  the  month  ia  written  ont 
in  fuIL  Of  the  forty-four  datinj^  of 
Francis's  letters,  forty  contain  all  the 
first  eight  points  ;  and'the  remaining 
four  are  deficient  in  only  a  single 
point,  whicli  is  never  repeated. 
Twenty-eight  of  tlio  letters  have  also 
the  ninth  point  These  nine  points 
combined  are  not  found  in  any  other 
CM>mpetitor  for  the  Junian  hand;  and 
they  are  of  such  extremely  rare  occur- 
rence, that  ilr*  Twistleton  says  in 
his  preface,  "  Although  I  have 
carefully  examined  more  than  three 
thousand  letters,  either  in  *  The  Gren- 
ville  Papers,'  which  belong  to  Mr, 
Murray  J  or  in  *The  Anson  Papers,' 
*  The  Eippon  papers,'  and  other  col- 
lections of  the  same  kind  which  are 
in  the  British  Museum^  I  have  never 
seen  those  points  united  in  any  writer 
except  Junius  and  Francis/' 

In  his  comparison  of  the  handwrit- 
ing of  Junius  and  Francis,  ^Ir,  Cha- 
bot  enumerates  twenty-eight  points 
of  resemblance,  many  of  which  are 
very  curious  and  interesting  j  but 
there  is,  perhaps,  no  part  of  liis  report 
more  interesting  than  the  section  en- 
titled "The  Principal  Subterfuges 
and  other  Peculiarities  of  the  Junian 
Manuscripts  introduced  into  the  nat- 
ural hand  of  Francis  subsequently  to 
the  year  ITCT***  We  have  left  our- 
selves no  space  to  follow  him  in  tkia 
inquiry,  and  must  content  ourselves 
with  quoting  his  summing-up  of  the 
results  of  the  investigation,  "  The 
point  is  this/'  he  says  ;  *^  that  no  less 


than  sixteen  pec  till  arittej  of  i 
nian  hand  cumulate  in  the] 
Francis,  not  one  of  which  is  bi 
that  hand  prior  to  the  year  17 
before    those   peculiar ilie-s  hail  j 
well-practised    in  another 
many  months ;  and  that  some  ofl 
peculiarities,   when   once   tlieyj 
introduced    into     Francis's 
hand,   became   as   much   estah 
therein  as  in  the  hand  of  Juniu 
One  other  point  oonaidered  hjj 
Chabot  must  not  be  overlook4»c 
the  original  pioof*sheets  of  ^'  1 
ters  of  Jimius,"  now  preserved] 
British  Museum,  are  eleven  i 
fions  of  manuscript  corrections, 
en  of  these  pages  have  been  photi 
graphed  for  this  volume,   &ii4| 
therefore  not  difficult    to 
Chabot's    statements    in    re^ 
them.     " In  eight  instances^'' 
"  the   obliterations   conceal 
the  same  words  and  figures  is 
which  now  stand  in  their  place 
are  made  to  appear  as  correctio 
the  obliterated  writing.     In 
of  the  other  three  is  there  anj 
stantial   correction/'      It  td 
that  the  obliteration  could  oidj 
been  made  from  a  fear  that  the| 
erat<;d  handwriting  would  lead  ( 
identification  of  the   writer  j 
obliteration  failed  to  render  thoj 
nal    writing    illegible.     **EveJ! 
stance,"    says    Mr.    Chabot, 
penetrated,  discovers  the  natur 
of  Sir  Philip  Francis  without 
mentis  hesitation,  to  those  wlj 
acquainted  with  his  writing.'' 
curiously  enough  in  a  single  in 
on  page   eighty-nine,  letter  si 
Junius  omitted  to  erase    the 
script  date;  and  there  it  standi] 
unmistakable  hand  of  Fraucli 
July.  1769."     «  This  date,"  sajj 
Chabot,  "  is   in   precisely    thai 
hand  as  the  obliterated  writ 


JSjpoomM  im  a  ilicrry. 


S87 


I  villi  the 
Sir  Pliilip  Fnoeii^  it  was 


SPOOKS    IX    A    WHERRY. 


sad  a  wheixT.  In  the 
vochjh.  In  h^  m  the 
i  yoong  wmnen.  Oi^  m  Sut* 
1  mmy,  ^  A  getidevofBaB,  sai, 
» til  J  wunl»',  m  jTong  gentie- 


[tsQjmt    Aodham?  BhaR 

»g«iiitor,   like    genealogical 
tlizoa^  eeoft-fozil 

llMd,«D«i 

Pilgnniy  to  tlm  fiurtst 
^<af  the  Hne,  dnfting  jxmdsr 
ff  wUe  iIm  vest  wiml 
UMler  its  hom%  wi^ 
it 

I  pce^Bapfaadite  Jnddl, 
hak»  aboot 
m  YicUmm  the  tpmeOf 
the  senile  luer  oC  the 
laad  hex  of  the  Cannibal 
in  ti€r  puiws  daimimg 
^and  each  exhihtttng  the 
that    ''oialua    the 
in-'? 
r;   Ibr  has  the  ikot  daeea 
elf  in  a  mheofT    And 
that  f^atziet  her  to  eaeQj- 
Ittj  ?      She     k 
Efti|Qiinaox     maid, 
the  ifcyaJh^eoawiffeattlt,  the 
of  hjperhofean 


hcrhodh  Iho^ 

battheBfli 

Mthe  m  the  e^e,  toeiew  ae  etthei^ 

icetins  M  yimat  horn  a  nfid  ^oi 

mifin^CTa^  her  lipi  pafteoy 

vhole  §aam  cihilafaird  hf 

race  vith  an 


i^the^ 


What  MattcTj  ^en,  who 
greiwhMthei  In  the  fiftieth 
when  we  have  the  aihitaiifiel  hcanty 
of  the  laiant  giiiwhlengihler  T 

Xow  Am  takee  her  ecnik  agata, 
and  with  a  few  powo&i  ftiekeiv  ^ 
etzict  ^amtf  lbn%  imm  her  whcnj 
a  aanev  cntsance  into  a 
white  with  waibBt^tliefl^ 
ataitling  alog-fiidl  of  denwza  tiadea 

;thef 
at  the  hold 
mtxoder,  and  voU  off  to  moirter  quar- 
tets helow,  to  oootiniie  their  eeesioQ 
on  Oe  wateMalses. 

Who^  then,  k  the  hold  intruder? 

Mi«  VidmmmtTf  a  half-year  reai- 
doit  at  Rherhank,  4bL  19  +,  wholc- 
■onkd,  whole-heactedy  brawn-ejed, 
loPWHTojced;  with  a  fonn  like  Hebe's ; 
no^  better  than  that,  such  as  Hebe 
might  hsTc^  after  a  month's  gentle 
whenj-training  for  iome  Oljmpian 
leguti.    A  child  of  nature^  and  yet 


268 


Spoons  in  a  Wherry. 


not  a  cliiM  of  nature ;  for  that  sug- 
gests mawkishness  and  venJancy; 
still,  although  town-bred  herself,  yet 
farthest  removed  from  what  the  laat- 
centory  soug  calls 

**  Th45  cii?  laM 
With  waiiiicot  face." 

Dame  Kature,  kindliest  of  colorista, 
had  indeed  wainscoted  her  face,  but 
with  far  different  cosmetics  from  those 
on  the  toilet-table  of  the  **  city  lass." 
.  '*  Health/*  Hebe's  sister,  had  stood 
godmother  over  her  at  birth,  and 
watched  her  ever  since.  She  led  her 
out  into  the  fields,  and  Xature  kissed 
approval  on  her  cheek.  She  pointed 
to  the  wildest  horses  and  the  most 
dangerous  lK>ats,  an  J  UAd  her  to  ride 
and  to  row.  And  she  galloped  and 
rowed  and  swam,  and  was  an  Arab 
in  endurance.  The  same  sun  that 
bronzed  the  Arab  in  the  desert  put 
the  richest  of  browns  on  her  cheek, 
•but  still  the  ruddy  Caucasian  Health 
glowed  through  it  all,  and  said  with 
a  smile,  "  She  is  my  daughter.''  But 
why  catalogue  her  virtues?  Is  not 
all  said^  or  implied,  when  we  find  her 
in  a  wherry?  Did  ever  young  wo- 
man enter  one  who  had  not  pluck 
and  self-reliance  and  independence? 
To  these  add  beautiful  muscles  and 
nerves  of  steel,  a  wit  keen  though 
seldom  displayed,  and  a  manner 
marked  with  just  enough  of  Imuteur 
to  repel  familiarity,  and  withal  a 
Spartan  hatred  of  flirtation,  and  you 
have  Miss  Midsummer  in  a  nutshell, 
—  or  a  wherry.  For  see,  she  is  just 
sculling  out  from  the  lagoon  with 
easy  stroke;  she  has  wreathed  the 
wash-boa nls  of  the  wherry  with  trail- 
ing feathery  clematis,  and  oh !  sight 
for  a  Brahmin^  a  single  water-lily, 
white  as  her  own  bosom,  hangs  over 
the  middle  of  her  forehead,  like  the 
Lotus  on  the  brow  of  a  Hindoo  god- 
dess. 


Pbesextly  as  she  rounds  in 

open  river,  a  double  scull,  and 
couple  of  sophomores  from  the  \ 
boring  university,   who  are 
the  summer  in  Rivexbank. 

What  %  sophomore  does 
about  rowing  is  hardly  worth 
itig,     He  taked  to  it  as  natij 
a  freshman  to  the  rank-list*  a: 
to  his  ease,  and  a  senior  to 
of   **  heavy    dignity/*      To 
friends  justice,  these  two  yoangi 
men,  as  they  rose  and  fell  in 
rhythm,  driving  their  boat  aa| 
an  even  course  which  was  the  j 
tion  of  motion,  seemed  far  ftom\ 
at   the   oar,   and   brought    ap, 
watched  tliem  from  the  bank,  i 
ries,   both   happy  and  sad^ 
Winnipiseogee,   with    ite  fifrt 
collegiate  race  and  its  brave 
whom    hardly    a    member 
above  the  sod. 

They  are  abreast  of  the  lag 
the  Hindoo  goddess  corner 
the    tutelary   deity   of    the 
from  the  inner  shrine. 

*'  By  jove  I  what  a  stun 
comes  from  the  double-scuU; 
training  injunction,  "Eyes  i^ 
boat,"  receives  a  liberal  const 
by  being  referred  to  anothe 
than  their  own.  They  hare 
up  and  down  the  navigable  lend 
the  river  for  a  week  (ever  sine 
ing  quarters  at  the  farm-hous 
der) ;  they  have  pulled  into 
seductive  nooks,  explored  all 
dowing  streams  to  the  utt« 
plunged  into  all  the  cool 
pools,  and  met  never  a 
parties  of  pudgy  rustics  pull 
barbarous  stroke  whicii  on 
their  Aesthetic  canona,  or  indalg 
demonstrative  and  wholesale 
ing"  by  moonlight  which 
them  still  more  \  these,  and  tbel 


i^oons  in  a   Wherry. 


269 


yuth  bobbiog  for  eels,  raoored 
i^»ot  dailj,  a^  though  he 
dawn  roata  and  become  fast 
[ISy-ptbd^  weje  the  only  signs 
ic^  Itutnanitj  that  they  had 
If  and  just  03  thejr  are  be- 
;  to  TOte  Rirerbank  a  "bore," 
thb  fair  and  mysterioas 
[pcmty  crowning  her  brow,  and 
Id    erery  moTement    of    her 

■trann  of  reflections  has 
tiinmgh  their  minds  at  once, 
&iid  waking  up  other  little 
idisfta,  their  eyes  all  the 
apliing  up  new  facts,  until 
become  bee-hives  of  biuz- 
Tf  «4mii&tion,  expectation, 
fi     doubt,  — ^  when  —  "  Good 

I  B4>b ;  IVe  canght  a  crab  \  " 
^did  not  need  to  be  told  of  the 
'  dear  young  friend :  are  not 
and  i^ftj  poondd  of  aToir* 
f  falling  on  the  frail  bottom  of 
only  e<|ually  heavy,  siif- 
,  wiAcPttt  this  62  p^ist  facto  an- 
il f 

and  right  the  boat  be- 

I  they  do  ao,  and  are  set- 

&mt  steady  swing  again, 

anotiber  '^  Good   heavens !   hit 

I?'* — an    aea4]emic    nautical 

geatk  reader,  of  exiiortation 

19     muttered    under 

they  bend  their  straight 

t9  tkrir  worir,  as  they  see — 

tie   poesible?  —  the  clematis- 

irberry  creeping  up  closer 

to  them,  eviiiently  trying 

thorn.      The   Ciesarean 

|«f  thm  pophomores  prevails  over 

gallantry  of  the  acade- 

,  sod  they  smother  their  curi* 

>  that  dMiPi  to  be  ^^  head  of 

\  they   will 

luitli  i2)>  unchival- 

of  bairing  raced  with 


a  woman ;   and  we  shall  0nd  them^  , 
under  similar  eiieamstanoes,  allowing  \ 
themselves  to  be  beaten  with   naivo 
equanimity,   and    aflerwacds    bound 
wherry    to    wherzy,   conqueror    and 
conquered,   mayhap,   with   did    sell^j 
same  wreaths   of  clematis^  obliTioiiftj 
of  the  world. 

So  they  give  tbemselTes  to  theb 
stroke,  reaching  well  bejrond  the  toe«, 
and  lifting  the  bow  almost  dear  of 
the  water ;  while  their  astoniahmei 
changes  to  di&may,  to  see  clearer  and  ] 
clearer  the  delicate  spray  of  the 
clematis,  and  nearer  and  nearer  the 
firm  profile,  lily-crowned,  as  sha 
turns  now  and  then  to  note  the ' 
course. 

What  a  disgrace  the  old  university 
might  have  incurred  that  day,  if 
their  boat*house,  happy  sight!  had 
not  coma  to  their  relief  above  the 
next  bend,  'twere  fearful  to  think  on ! 
Tliey  barely  escaped  a  **  bump  "  from 
the  on-coming  wherry,  as  they 
turned  in  to  their  house,  looking 
back  with  wide-eyed  wonder  and  in- 
finite relief  at  the  marvelloua  stroke 
of  their  weird  antagonist,  as  she 
sped  up  the  river*  Bob  vowed  that 
he  detected  something  very  like 
smile  on  her  face,  and  worse  Usafi^ 
that,  a  satirical  smile,  as  she  bent 
one  look  on  them  in  passing;  but 
she  was  gone  so  suddenly,  and  they 
felt  so  little  like  smiling  themselves, 
that  they  did  not  stop  to  argue  the 
point,  but  stepped  out  upon  their 
landing  with  slightly  spavined  kueea 
and  whitish  lips.  It  was  ouly  after  ] 
Lifting  their  boat  upon  its  stays  with 
quivering  bieipites,  that  thoy  fnu nd 
toice  to  utter  the  usual  explotivos^i 
and  discuss  this  unexpected  bnjak  in 
the  monotony  of  Riverbank  life. 
This  discussion  outlasted  tlie  procosaj 
of  dressing  and  the  after-cigar,  audi 
broke  out  afresh  in  their  walk  acrota 


270 


Spoons  in  a  Wherry. 


fields  ta  their  "den."  But  after 
every  theory  had  been  discussed^  and 
every  classu-al  parallel  suggested, 
they  wer<3  forced  to  be  conteot  with 
their  original  verdict,  that  whether 
woman  or  goddess,  ponderable  flesh 
and  blood  or  phantom  Lady  of  the 
Mist,  she  waa  certainly  a  *^8tnniier," 
as  she  had  proved  herself  to  them  in 
more  than  hyperbole. 

in. 

OF    THE    80PHOMOEE9. 

Bob  had  been  an  exemplary  fresh- 
man:  he  had  been  pat  to  bed  with- 
out a  murmur  or  a  pound  of  resist- 
ance by  Ku-klnx  sophomores,  had 
never  missed  a  morning  prayer,  and 
had  Scored  high  up  the  eighty-per- 
cents  in  the  rank-list.  He  had 
caught  the  boating  fever  in  the  first 
term  of  the  sophomore  year,  and 
had  been  favorably  reported  by  Sharp- 
eye,  the  "  bow "  of  the  '  Varsity, 
for  a  place  in  the  six  of  the  next 
summer.  But  not  even  possible  bayi 
of  glory  at  Quinsigamond,  nor  shad- 
owy summa  cunis,  could  keep  him  at 
his  winter  work,  either  in  study  or  at 
the  jrowing-weights.  He  fell  oflF  in 
muscle  and  in  rank,  but  went  steadily 
up  in  the  scale  of  dancing  men.  The 
mighty  trophies  of  his  saltatory  pow- 
wows were  hung  about  his  room,  as 
priceless  spolla  opima  ;  a  cherry  rib- 
bon about  the  neck  of  his  Venus  de 
Milo,  party-colored  rosettes  on  his 
broken  cricket-bat  hung  up  on  the 
wall  to  the  god  of  sports,  a  circle  of 
flashing  stars  against  his  black  man- 
tle, with  a  mass  of  tiny  bells  on  his 
stag-horos  over  the  door,  that  clinked 
a  silvery  welcome  to  every  in-comer. 
**  Germans,**  and  what  the  sanguinary 
irreverent  dub  "tea-fights,"  were  his 
ruin ;  and  at  the  end  of  first  term, 
we  find  him  rusticated  for  six  months 
to  Biverbank^  where  he  is  now  busy 


"crammiog"  for  the  faO  exi 
tions,  not  daring  to  Imst  hniM 
July,  His  chum  Alfred,  a  i 
wiry  youth  of  twenty,  rankioi 
in  his  clnsiSy  had  generously  ^ 
himself  as  *^  coach  "  during  the 
mer  recess ;  and  was  most  than! 
accepted,  of  course. 

On  yonder  hiU-side,  a  fniJong 
iht  river,  they  had  a  "den" 
cosey  red  farm*house,  where 
battened  on  such  toothsome  i 
as  Pnckle's  Conic  Ser' 
plethoric  on  **  Birds  and  :  ,  , 
such-like  ancient  gamt*,  and  dr^ 
copious  Chem.  Phys.  for  a  post^ 
dial  cordial. 

To  this  "  den  "  they  returned 
their  river  adventure.  But  h<M 
be  told  the  changed  spirit  that 
over  their  rooms  and  thems* 
How  Puckle  was  thrown  out  at 
window,  and  Anstophanes  be 
like  ancient  Commodus,  a  ^foo 
of  fortune ! "  How  the  Caithfiil  < 
stiO  attempting  his  tasks^  dien 
his  absent- witted  pupil  the  wd 
ing  announcement  that  the  i 
foot  of  an  Aristophanean  rem 
a  truncated  prism,  and  that  the 
itive  form  of  the  Athenian  ( 
was  the  trochaic  tetrameter  ca 
tic  !  UntH  patience  was  worn  tl 
bare,  and  "  coach  "  and  pupil 
aside  their  books  witli  a  det 
**Ko  use  I  Digging^s  out  ol 
question,  till  we  find  out  who  si] 

A  difficult  matter  ?  By  no  ii 
Two  gentlemanly  young  fellow 
not  half  a  mile  off  a  wide  p< 
country-house,  with  hospitable 
and  Mrs,  Midsummer,  and  ni 
Miss  Midsummer.  What  e 
What  more  natural?  A  veiy 
tended  stroll  country-house wi 
very  casual  rencontre  in 
with  3Ir.  HidBummer 
civil  interchangeSi — "1 


Smsemm  in  '£  Wligrrri,. 


^l&  !  ^— >BET  wiSt  TonL  'hxau&nss:. 
m?     WesEidi 


IT. 

inuBR'  life  te^psc&ss:. — w^oc 

tiopii  J  «£  jmsr  Ibuir  jnnmuer 
»T.  cgmnci'friig:  tonsHnsii  snuar 

^cftTmsm^  idQiaiiir!!  Cnr  'iiifini 
«en  box,  Mi»  Hif^arrniu  aaiE 

sc  like  dkfr  ^ftaauabT  a>  iektf '  'itf 
lie,  smI  fife*  Ibamflk'  if  &  ciiii' 
K  anykaBL  w&n:&  Ikotsnir  Itiiiii 
ess  fiftfuftt  jnBflBE&. 
lo;  tikoe  was  ai»  find)  ssciiiis 
:  fimttnak  jvtt.  T^  mH?* 
i  had  Bot  jiEt  pffiQQRii  ox  inrin: 
i«.  As  Sxsi  is  «;»  tL  %flb.  m 
be  wImoj  jiiT^sBcniiR-  "wm  -u>- 

Tbcn  it  w:ai»  ai  eoZL  'tr  tv  h. 
ei%  aad  tBie  1b*>?  -^  :5GnnH!i  *^ 
iDa  ai^  dnT%»  aioi^  rj|if»  isnL 
as  tkzcailcil  wisoj  a  iii«t--^ic!t 

mtic     imifcWT>l  «1^    •(nUZTK*:. 

—  vmat  sains^  zo:  *3irHi»)i^ 

IK.    d^tjr    dti£btii    msBLT    % 

9&9xan0m  4a  xSk^  ns7^»;.  it 
K  Jmr  mxmtn^'^  an*  aaimrr  iut*:«r. 

•Be  ev^^ttfn^  a*  i&tf:  3ii'j*;ii 
p  «rffr  Ymcf  Fmus.  aoiS  lAt^T- 


itr  :ait  wumslul.  wiii  iiiDTiif  liltusunft 
11 
*'  !Siiii^4zniino^"Wiir  jt  faiiiiBuy  una. ' 

UUL    uuflfHiifiESL     cmivaSTiiom    JL     IIH^ 

ILinw-^mciis  "woBb  iftuoic  zohu  utear 
uL-  if  Tsifflir  jbooiii  iwH  ui'j  sfirfon.^ 
jiiimm  Ti  3ifv»iuiiti. 

180-  ii»  iittsuL  imr  imn.  i*tiuiiiL  im 
iCKnii»-      ur    ±ai:    hutt  tf    smlti    & 

mir    *Slli-    -riiifixrmin^i'    liilC:.     "ZlHiL     11 

id  ij  jiL  icn»F  jr  *iwi .:  mnL  ur  ma: 
ifr  WW-  ruHiuur  inniir  jt  ii»  ^-vsHiimr 
mui^  *  in.  "iiiit  "''y^  «a*5FL  Utfuiiur 
^vtrnmiiH-  n-  r(i!ii:  uut  iflfi  Timrmtr  tuit 
'OUSfr^urrsL  -sirnintr  Tunuoim   nra  mm*- 

31u>k:  -wmiul'j. 

iniit-  u^iiitfuit  Biin'-fntt  "fin:  IniP  i*  in- 
iiir  "iHnninr-aiHJL  bdr  u>wur^  -dH-  iitwr 

•nil  f!7Timir:i«T3ii  l  lumirt  "ii  iitrrf!i 
Jimr  uinuirrntfL  ti  ii»  uuuil  i^  urumn 
i»Cinimi::nn^  v^m.  r  lit  v^tirt  «iit 
^^(!ii  li  r*5Hiir  Tilt  ins:   uaum    nyrntiii 

iiin    a;»va   tui ::   «i   -siiu:   «i»iii.    i-r   t 

I.  '.T:iiidn:im  iif  nr^wr  ^ojso^r^  -.i  j£.i« 
j4LiiiHUTuiii*2.  — njtfwtrr    ¥*n;u'.>u:      titr. 

i:kf    Tu. VI  i'JL    vii*    "nLit     '.'lit    'ui.ir 

ui#i"^  lil.  ir:iity>  1'.-  cubriiH:  tiui  wiLruz* 

"Stir***  iriL  frjtail-t.  w  tf^*-  j^-^wiij*-.-^.;' 


272 


Spoons  in  a  Wlierry. 


if  not  already  come,  to  this  latter 
iedue.  The  nearer  they  approaclied 
it,  the  oftener  the  collegians  noticed 
a  strange  smile  on  Miss  Midsummer's 
face,  which  they  could  neither  ijiter- 
pret  nor  forget;  as  when  the  three 
sitting  on  a  breezy  knoll,  under  a 
canopy  of  oak-trees,  Miss  Mdstimmer 
weaving  a  cbaplet  of  leaves  on  Bob's 
hat,  and  the  young  men  watcbing 
her,  with  fingera  in  the  books  that 
they  had  brought  to  read,  Bob  felt 
a  murtberous  little  dart  planted 
plump  in  his  hearty  causing  him  to 
utter  a  sudden  "  Oh  I " 

"Whafs  the  matter,  Mr.  Hay- 
mond  ?  " 

**0h,  I  was  thinking,  how  beau- 
tiful!" 

**  It  isn't  finished  yet ;  I  want  you 
to  find  me  a  spike  of  cardinal  flower 
for  a  pompon  in  front/* 

"  I  wa«!n*t  thinking  of  the  hat"  he 
returned  with  a  sigh. 

Miss  Midsummer  looked  at  him 
a  moment  iti  a  silent,  abstracted 
way  peculiar  to  her,  batided  bim  bis 
hat,  ajid  k'd  the  way  without  a  word 
to  the  wherries,  tied  at  tlie  bank  be- 
neath them. 

Many  K^petitions  of  such  scenes,  of 
which  Miss  Midsummer  had  an 
almost  morbid  loathing,  if  any  thing 
about  ber  could  be  said  to  be  morbid, 
drove  ber  to  desperation,  and  she  was 
at  her  wits'  end  to  devise  some  escape 
from  such  nauseating  attentions ;  and 
when  at  last  Alfred  the  erudite, 
drawing  on  his  extensive  reading 
ftt  the  University,  quoted  something 
from  the  Gulistan,  slie  didn*t  know 
nor  carta  to  know  what  that  was, 
about  '*the  iiicur\'ated  back  of  the 
sky"  becoming  "straight  (with  joy) 
at  tliy  birth, ^*^ — wbich  he  meant  for 
compliment !  —  her  patience  re- 
ceived its  last  straw,  and  she  vowed 
that  she  would  not  let  the  sun  go 


down  on  her   perplexity, 
find  deliverance,  even  if  at 
of  politeness. 

Which  vow  led  to  the  mod 
stantial  oath  of  the  next  chapti 

V, 

Stopping  in  the  ; 
that  evening,  ahts  as:    .  ;  _ 
man  loaning  on   either 
piano,  like  mtsplaoed 
tbe  following  speech,  as 
it  was  unexpected  from  hertl 

'*  Come,  my  gallant  cavalii 
attentions  are  becoming  sti 
in  tbe  extreme^     I  have 
with   compliments   ond 
you  pelt  ^ prima  donna  with  1 
in  winter,  you  toilsome,  over- 
students,  for  aye   *  in  shady 
mewed  1 '      I'm  sure,  I  ought 
very  much  flattered;  but  for 
I    propose    a    wherry-rac-Ct 
championship   of  the    ri^-ef 
promise  you,  'pon  honors 
that  the  winner  shall  be  sol 
over    my   valuable    affection;! 
twcdve-month,  —  I'd  say 
tbink  that^s  about  as  k*ii_, 
would  be  able  to  indtire  it*    V 
you  say  ?     I  think  it's  about  i 
a  little  healthy  excitement; 
ett^ad  of  entering  the  lists  ; 
at  each   other,    as   you    mi 
been  ready  to  do  for  me  hsi 
centuries  ago,  we  shall   ha^ 
bloody    but    equally    excitin| 
with  the  oars;  and  Fm  saw 
be  deligbted,  if  I  shall  he  th<! 
of  putting  you  into  good  *fu 
next  years  work ;  for  I  feel  t 
must  be  dreadfully  domoniliJi 
may  judge  from  ray  own  fiej 
the  lazy  life  that  weVe 
for  the  last  month.'* 

This  was  delivered  wit 
assumed  gravity,  which  di*i 
suspicions  raised  by  the 


forj 

etc,  1 


spoons  in  a   Wherry. 


273 


■e   '  "ids  of  the  young 

m  r  ith»  thoy  were 

k  uied  as  not 

Ir*-,-*:  . .,  -,  ^.>,-:li  from  some 
DAfter  than  the  Lotus  Islea^ 
Imagttiil  airs  had  been  blow^mg 
if  a  iijijr- 
i  joa  joking  ?  " 
na  toean^"  she  said ;  and  see* 
jcmug  men  eying  eacfi  o therms 
as  elioiagli  to  weigh  the 
mr-^,  ?he  feared  for  her 
^^liC  hand  aa  if 
.  ..i  oath.  Alfred^ 
hinrgirer,  interpreting  this 
l9f«d  Bob  to  follow  suit, 
ilia  own  hand,  with  mock 
mded    the     following 

OATIL 
Bti    Uplifting    of    hands 
,  that,  owing  to  sundry  and 
not  herein  specified,  a 
be  duuQptonship  is  to  be 
tho  Meander  River,  on*'  — 
,  day  shall  it  be  ?  *' 
(*•  «e«.     Wliat  do  you  say  to 
bvm  SdUunlay?'' 
ay  it  is," 

ttirdayy  Ih^  —  25th  tost; 
Ite  the  stone  VH)at-house, 
atream^  rotuiding    the 
asWolf  Island^'  — 
tliatr^ 
L 1  cocadn't  be  better^ 

lin^    to  the   starting- 
rinning  of  sai*!  race  to 
RlL  tL«  {lersou  rowiog  over  the 
herein  described,  and 
Ifit   mt   the    starting-point, 
said    ^^  >    *the 

l-er/  so  11  called, 

right,  title,  iind  inter- 
^*  twidvccnonth  in  the  affeo- 
\  ooe  Hiddummer^  summer 
lEiredboak,  apinster^  beauti- 


—  "and  all  persons  laying,  or  pre- 
suming to  lay,  claim  to  »aid  afifections, 
saving  only  the  winner  as  above  de- 
scribed^ shall  immediately  thereafter 
*  ramose  the  rancbe '  and  leave  said 
winner  an  open  field,  or  rirer,  in  the 
full  and-  undistarbed  enjoyment  of 
said  afiections  aforesaid*  Wind  and 
weather  permitting*  So  help  me^ 
gracious !  ^ 

"  Well  done,  mj  learned  Grotius ! 
And  now,  remember  your  oath  and 
the  inestimable  prLze/' 

Saying  which,  she  excused  Jjerself 
on  the  plea  of  going  to  her  mother, 
who  was  confined  to  her  room,  bat  in 
reality  to  rush  to  the  billiard-room^ 
prance  wildly  about  it,  seixe  an  In- 
dian club  and  whirl  it  desperately 
about  her  head,  make  astonishing 
lunges  with  cues  at  an  imaginary  foe, 
and  indalge  in  other  excited  actions, 
all  the  while  breaking  into  extrava- 
gant laughter  as  though  something 
had  been  engineered  with  peculiar 
adroitness. 

The  young  men  left,  oonsidembly 
mystified,  and  not  exactly  sure  wheth- 
er they  were  being  quizzed  or  not 
But  they  were  oat Ii -bound  now,  antl 
rexUly  what  harm  could  there  be  in  a 
race,  wliether  it  decided  any  thing  or 
not  ?  After  being  invited  so  charm- 
ingly, in  so  mysterious  a  manner  too, 
how  could  they  retreat  ? 

So  they  ordered  op  their  single 
sculls  from  Cambridge,  and  went  iijti> 
a  mwlerately  severe  course  of  tniu- 
iog.  They  alarmed  their  lauillady 
by  their  increase  of  appetite,  and  all 
Riverbank,  gazing  from  the  sliorc,  by 
their  diminution  of  rowing-%hirt  j  in- 
deed, at  the  University,  success  at  tho 
oar  seems  to  be  in  inverse  ratio  toHixo 
of  boating-shirt. 

Tliey  saw  less  of  Miss  Midsummer. 
They  were  more  frequently  nn^t  wit  It 
a  ^*  Not  at  home  "  when  they  called, 


274 


Spoons  in  a   Wherry. 


and  puzzled  by  tliat  peculiar  smilej 
now  more  Bpbiax-like  than  ever, 
when  they  found  her  in.  She  was 
continually  quizzing  them  about  their 
oath,  and  begging  them  to  be  partic- 
ularly careful  to  remember  its  phrn- 
geology.  "Oh,  yes,"  they  said; 
"  we  remember  it !  '*  and  they  tried 
to  look  very  wise,  but  felt  rery  un- 
comfortable*  They  rarely  met  her 
in  her  wherry  now,  but  came  across 
her  path  once,  as  she  was  harrying 
home  through  the  fields,  looking  very 
much  excited  and  trying  to  fivoid 
them ;  but  when  they  came  up  with 
her>  she  explained  that  she  had  been 
down  to  arrange  something  in  her 
boat-house,  and  had  heated  herself 
hurrying  homo  to  dinner. 

They  were  becoming  brown  and 
burned,  as  the  day  of  the  race  came 
an;  and  they  noticed  that  she,  too, 
was  very  much  bronzed,  more  than 
usual ;  but  she  said  that  she  was  de- 
voting herself  to  her  flower-garden ; 
"  which  has  become  fearfully  over- 
grown with  weeds  since  you>e  been 
here/*  she  added,  with  a  pointed  ear- 
neatness,  at  the  recollection  of  which 
she  laughed  outright,  after  they  had 
left,  —  a  good  deal  for  her  to  say, 
and  more  than  enough  to  launch  them 
upon  a  fresh  rhapsody  on  their  way 

home. 

VL 

The  A:\y  of  the  race  came.  Every 
suspicion  that  had  hatched  in  the 
brains  of  the  young  men  had  received 
its  quietus  from  Miss  Midsummer 
as  soon  aa  brought  before  her;  but 
still  they  ate  tlteir  oatmeal  on  Satur- 
day morning  with  the  firm  conviction 
that  the  day's  sport  wa^  to  have  an 
episode ;  what,  or  to  whose  discomfit- 
ure, neither  could  imagine, 

Misa  Midsummer  had  suggested  to 
them  the  propriety  of  allowing  a  pri- 
vate  announcement  of  the  race    in 


Riverbank,  and    of    p?rmfl 
father  to  pat   up   a  silver 
prize,  which  she  said  he  had 
ious  to  do  so  soon  as   he   he^ 
they  were  to  rovv.     They 
gcr   in   this    proposal   at 
thought  they  saw  througlt  h 
It  was  all  very  well,  they  ih 
have  a  quiet  race  by  themsel 
even  an  episode  or  twoi,  if  Mi 
summer  desired,  ppovide«l  tted 
the  only  spectatora :    bat  this 
and  this   cup,  —  what  eudJea 
might  not  be  sprung  under  co^ 
them  J     The  river   swarmeil  to 
imaginations,  with   a  riotous 
each   individual     rioter     0red 
intensest     '*  town-and-gown 
and  each  brandishing   a 
bludgeon  at  them  defenceless. 
glittered  with   a   ehadowy  lej 
silver  cups,  fair   without,  but 
erous,   subtly  armed  with 
poison   within,  mayhap*      Bat 
their   suspicions    were    allay 
Riverbank   and  cup  were  on 
open-mouthed  for  the  ©xei 
the  day. 

The  sun    came  up  with  a 
his  rouud   face,  as   though  he 
what  fun  was  afloat,  or  to  doat. 
winked  at  some  clouds  down 
east,    and  said  to   them,  *^  Coi 
with  mo,  and  see  the  sport ;  " 
delicate  creatures  were   fr; 
his     familiarity,  and   vam 
sight  at  his  very  look.     So  ho 
up  alone  and   secured   a   high 
with  a  clear  view  of  the  entirts 
He  saw  all  Riverbank  era  I' 
race  and  wet   feet;    every 
would  float  pressed  into  sennce, 
punts  long  ago  discarded  a» 
lessly  waterlogge<i,    to   the 
barge  **  Cleopatra,'*  filled   with 
folk  from  the   hotel.     Rustic 
effulgent  with  red  fl^innel,  pi 
sturdily    hither    and     thithi 


clild 


Spoong  in  a  Wlierry. 


275 


thearts,  wlirle  the 
1  of  our  friends  wad 
y  n  couple  of  classmates, 
ter  bv  rumors  of  the  race, 
Bent  monopolizing  the  coy 
lid)  shottld  have  been  the 
UOs^  Juvenile  Riverbank 
Uic  tallest  trees  on  shore, 
laelf  into  the  best  places  in 
and  fell  overboard  at  con- 
Ptntaf  bat  was  fished  up, 
alive,  —  too  much  alive, 
:ed  down  and  saw  this 
parate  into  two  irn?g- 
oa  the  sides  of  the  river, 
w  wherries,  "like  water- 
ap  and  lie  side  by  side 
stone  boat-house.  He 
gentleman  in  a  punt 
's  uncle)  take  a 
>m  hid  fob  and  glance 
too  good  a  chance 
lift  popped  a  reflected  sun- 
tlgiit  into  the  old  fellows 
t  jttdge  rubbed  his  eye, 
bebinil  his  red  bandana, 
«V  announced,  "  Two 
t]iree,  yiiung  gentlemen ;" 
mtn  overlicard,  and  re- 
pocrect,  old  party,  to  a  sec- 
%en  the  judicial  voice  in 
tones  inquired  J  *^*  Are  you 
and  aAer  £ve  seconds 
eSsetvally,  in  br>Dken  treble, 

went,  the  two  wherries, 
iti  of  •*  Ki — -i  \ "'  from  the 
^  and  c}|«*eTS  fi»m  the  rest, 
how  utroog  they  must  be  ! 
tbeyVo  bent  them  oars  I" 
A^OOiitXX  giJ"^?  standing  in 
1  collapaes  into  her  lover's 
€Xcit4»d  youth  collides  vio- 
hips.  And  if 
;hing  the  sun, 
Iraviy  •een  him  laughing 
lolled  down  his  cheeks; 
llw  way,  qnite  a  summer 


shower  down  in  the  tropics,  where 
they  fell;  but  at  what?  Surely  not 
at  this  country  girl's  falling  into  her 
Ijver^s  lap  ;  for  that  can  hardly  be  a 
novel  sight  to  him,  although  he  does 
keep  such  early  hours. 

But  k»ok  !  Here  is  what  has  kept 
him  dancing  in  the  sky  all  day! 
Here  is  the  sport  to  which  he  invited 
the  cloudlings  !  Here  comes  the  epi- 
sode I  For  before  the  wherries  have 
taken  a  dozen  plunges,  before  the 
overthrown  maid  has  fairly  risen  from 
the  regretful  lap,  — 

Alfred  breaks  his  Btretcher?  And 
Bob  harpoons  with  his  wherry  a  whale 
imported  for  the  occasion?  By  no 
means;  but  —  a  third  wherry  comes 
sweeping  by  the  boat-house,  past  the 
wheezy  judge,  past  the  boy  hung  out 
to  dry,  past  the  "Cleopatra,"  down 
through  the  gap  left  for  the  racers. 
How  beautiful  the  stroke !  How 
measured  the  rhythm !  Surely  we 
have  seen  this  stroke  before  I  The 
crowd  h^iks  on,  silent  with  admira- 
tion ;  only  one  enraptured  youth  ven- 
tures an  explosive  "Crolly  I "  as  she 
disappears  amund  the  bend  of  the 
river.  But  admiration  for  her  art  b 
the  only  sentiment  that  they  feel ; 
it  is  no  novelty  to  most  of  them  to 
see  Miss  Midsummer  pulling  in 
her  wherry,  and  they  have  not  the 
vaguest  idea  of  connecting  her  with 
this  race,  —  what  matter  to  l»er,  if  two 
young  students  choose  to  row  a  race 
at  Riverbaidt  ?  And  so  they  imagine 
that  she  is  out  to  see  the  race,  like 
themselves,  but,  more  inquisitive,  is 
pulling  below  the  headland  for  a  bet- 
ter view  J  and  Oalatea  goes  on  pelt- 
ing Damoetas  with  apples,  in  true  bu- 
colic style* 

The  racers  have  been  too  busy  with 
each  other  to  notice  her  until  they 
are  rounding  the  headlan^i,  which 
conceals  the  rest  of  the  course  from 


1 


276 


Spoons  in  a   Wierry. 


the  crowd  above ;  and  when  they  rec- 
ognize ^liss  Midaumraer,  they  have 
the  same  thought  as  the  reistj  that  she 
is  following  them  for  a  longer  view. 
So  they  shout,  **  Come  along  I  Shall 
we  throw  you  a  line  ?  "  anil  put  on  a 
'* spurt"  for  her  adnairation.  But, 
heavens  1  what  do  they  see  ?  Surely 
this  is  iio  holiday  stroke  that  Miss 
Midsummer  13  pulling  I  She  does  not 
stop  to  admire  their  "  spurt."  She 
does  not  pull  in  under  the  heeches  to 
join  her  father  in  the  shade;  but 
tirith  the  same  strong  and  graceful 
sweep  which  had  astonished  them  be- 
fore, she  follows  straight  after  them, 
merely  avoiding  their  wake.  And 
then  their  hearts  go  down  into  their 
boots  (no,  their  slippers),  as  the  whole 
plot  opens  to  them. 

Tliia^  then,  is  her  stratagem  1  This 
accounts  fur  the  many  times  they 
have  pulled  her  door-bell  in  vain,  of 
late, —  oat  practising.  This  tells  the 
story  of  the  bronzed  features,  —  flow- 
er-garden, indeed !  This  explains 
her  excitement  in  the  fields  that  af- 
ternoon,—  pulling  on  time  I 

But  all  these  reflections,  which 
skipped  through  their  minds  like  a 
fl^ajih,  only  served  to  nerve  them  still 
more ;  while  indignation  at  her  du- 
plicity electritied  them  like  wino ; 
and  they  said  to  themselves,  *'  If  this 
is  what  she  wants,  she  shall  have 
enough  of  it/*  Unchivalric  juniors ! 
for  juniors  you  may  now  call  your- 
selves. 

How  they  palled  !  How  the  fraU 
boats  leaped  onward  !  How  the  even 
I  hud  of  their  oars  in  the  row-locks 
rang  out  sharp  and  distinct  in  the 
stillness  of  the  afternoon  1  Pull,  my 
young  men !  Insurgite  remis  /  for 
you  have  a  heroine  pressing  you  hard. 
And  surely  they  are  gaining  on  her. 
Inch  by  inch,  but  inevitably,  they 
increase  the^r  tlistance  from  their  fair 


antagonist,  who  seems  to  be 

strength.  But  the  sun  lookt 
say  a,  **  Never  fear  !  IVe  watd 
maiden  aforetime ;  dux  fom 
but  a  cloud  goes  across  his  I 
smothers  the  rest  of  his  wordi 
They  pass  Beaver  Creek 
are  steering  for  Wolf  Isl^ 
turning-point,  a  ehort  mile  i 
start  Miss  Midsummec  i 
her  stroke.  If  she  can 
even  start  for  the  retu 
sure  of  the  race  |  but  c; 
can  she  *'  live  up  to  '^  the 
stroke  that  she  is  pulling! 
is  still  three  lengths  beliil 
Wolf  Island  is  almost  reachi 
fred  begins  to  tiag;  their 
has  been  too  much  for  him ; 
sides,  Puckle*3  Conies 
best  training  diet  in  the  ^ 
forges  ahead,  his  superb 
bing  with  his  work;  and 
order  they  round  the  ishu 
leading  Alfred,  and  Alfred  ^ 
summer,  each  by  a  1engtl|| 
Alfred  strikes  an  eddy,  at  th^ 
end  of  the  ishind,  and  tinds 
drifting  hopelessly  down  stn 
ciiea  out,  *'  I  give  up,"  but  1 
covers  control  of  his  boat,  ai 
on.  Bob,  entering  the  ed^ 
less  angle,  cuts  through  ii 
but  flnds  himself  on  issuing 
side  by  side  with  Miss  MiJ 
who  had  given  it  a  wide  bi 
pulled  around  in  smooth  watei 
look  at  each 'Other  for  a  bJ 
they  catch  the  first  stroke,  a^ 
to  their  work  without  a  word 
feel  tliat  the  tug  of  war 
Neck  and  neck,  they  p 
cruel  to  think  of  matchi 
Help  her,  water-nymphs  I 
white  polished  shoulders  to 
Sahrtna,  and  help  her  onward 
purest  Oxygen,  your  ♦*  spicy 
to  her  relief  I     Beat  brai 


JS^poamM  in  a  Wherry. 


2Si  I 


roor  red  life  into 
For  Tim  iem 

j0  Midsummer !     Himt 

fiM?e  giovB  wilb  eictte- 

lijis   firmlj  eompirpssedL  to 

^boating  fa^liioii !     How  h«r 

i1«lrr«n»e  and  fatl^o^  regular 

I  of  a  planet !     Hair  dean 

be  pctlb,  oar-bladM  barelj 

wat4>r,  out  and  in  irttbotit 

spmy  !     Hcarena,  how  slie 

'!     With    what   a    spring 

each  stroke,  ontit  hernaza 

in  the  air ! 

is.  right ;  s^ie  may  be  trtist- 

lias  not  watched  orer  her  for 

lA  Tears  in  Tain,  nor  ^ren 

i  like  his  oitrn  9unb«aiB9  '^ 

Now   coni<^s  the  re- 

irs  of  divine  health ;  how 

in  it !     She  is  Hebe ! 

iaeh,  a^in  they  separate; 

ae   it  u  Hebe  who  lead^* 

I  deepises  himsflf !     How  the 

r'e  life  comes  ap  before  him  ! 

wraiths  of  all  the  **GeT^ 

he   had   danced   cotse 

'*  Ah,  my  fine  fellow  I 

Hn^ps  by  gas-light ; 

you  in  the  light  of  the 

nd   from  high    in    the   air 

|ocbicalar  little  laugh,  sliding 

t  riking  the  water 

aer  is  drawing  rapidly 

L  him.     As  she  does  so,  she 

herself,  for  the  first  timej 

I  fi!p«*aiing  to  Bob,  between 

'  And  iill  persons  —  lay- 

pmoiffiing   to   lay  —  claim 

alleetions  —  saTing  ooly 

er  —  aa  aboTe  described  ^  ^ 

•he  r»pcat<Ml  with   empha- 

^OU  urinner  —  as  above  d&^ 

'  «hall  im  m^^Iintely  —  there- 

ilteriog  till*  slang)  —  **  *  go 


Vm 


I  die  Imt 
shooldcT  a&d  popped  iiiito 
hiai«^  KewwderfanbedUm- 
mki  bodiij  m  tk»  plM  ta  lAidi  ba 
waa  ordeged  \j  kia  aath. 

For  the  tmA  now  ciomce  h^ek  to 
hsm  with  its  faO  fetee,  Ibr  the  first 
time^  stnuigeiy  enougii,  anee  the  jmem 
began ;  and  he  eeea  I09  distiiBedy  the 
dovUe  plot  in  wktdi  they  are  eanghl 
They  had  reaeooed  thoSy  before  the 
nee :  ^  Here  we  are,  in  fee  a  raoe| 
well  go  in  and  aee  what  tunta  1^ 
IBm  M.  a»»r«a  na  that  Ike  cup  and 
tlie  crowd  aie  all  right  and  the  laee 
t»  to  be  aqoare-  Well  hare  some 
fpofl^  at  least,  and  after  it  see  what 
she  means  ta  do  aboat  her  Talnable 
ailectioDa.''  Then^  in  the  race,  seeing 
her  poisning  them,  —  **  Ah,  yes !  this 
is4t.  She's  gotten  ns  ioto  the  race 
by  that  abeurd  oath,  which  was  a 
mere  blind ;  she  has  hoodwinked  ns 
by  her  mysterious  references  to  its 
phraseology,  and  it  is  only  a  decoy 
duck,  after  all ;  while  here  is  her  real 
game,  to  carry  off  the  cnp  and  huzzas 
of  the  crowd.  Very  well  schemed, 
jroung  lady  ;  bat  we*ll  see  about  it ! " 
With  this  reasoning,  they  had  dis- 
missed all  thought  of  the  oath, 
thought  that  they  saw  the  whole  plot, 
and  resol^red  of  course  that  the  cup 
and  huzzas  should  be  theirs. 

They  had  nether  dreamed  of  her 
being  Machiavelli  enough  to  include 
herself  in  the  oath,  though  her  liand 
was  up  with  theirs  J  and  through  all 
the  struggle  up  to  this  pointy  they 
had  supposed  themselves  con  tending 
for  the  cup  and  the  empty  honors  of  a 
cheer.  But  now  that  the  oath  is 
brought  back  to  their  minds  so  point- 
edly, with  BO  evident  a  hint,  and  they 
see  that  there,  after  all,  is  the  real 
plot,  and  not  only  that,  but  that  they 
are  caught  in  it,   they  are    beside 


278 


A  Nursery  Rhyme. 


themselves.  They  are  not  so  foolish 
as  not  to  interpret  the  phraseology, 
now  that  it  is  thrown  in  their  teeth 
in  this  way.  They  see  that  there  is 
nothing  in  it  to  exclude  Miss  Mid- 
summer (^*as  ahove  (lescrihe<I '' )  ; 
why  didn't  tliey  think  of  thnt  hefore  ? 
They  remember  the  prize  mentioned 
in  the  oath,  and  they  see  that  she  is 
to  be  dictator  over  her  own  affections ! 
The  idea  of  thinking  that  she  was 
rawing  for  a  mere  cup !  Thtjy  re- 
member too  well  the  condition  of  de- 
feat, and  they  are  bright  enough  to 
take  a  hint  when  it  is  shouted  at  them 
in  italics, 

I  Jut  how  to  get  out  of  their  entan- 
gleiiieut  ?  Bob  and  Alfred  consult  a 
half  minute,  Miss  Midsummer  rowing 
on.         .         *         .         .         . 

Miss  ^lidsiimmer  appears  to  the 
crowd  above  the  point  rowing  lei- 
surely, fresh  from  her  inquisitive  logk- 
out  \  she  hugs  tlie  western  shore 
(happy  shore  !),  leaving  a  clear  place 
for  the  racers,  and  telling  her  friends^ 
*'  They're  coming.  It^s  a  very  close 
race  j  almost  neck  and  neck  \  " 

She  rows  to  the  stone  boat-house. 

The  wherries  come  in  sight,  round 
tile  point,  lapping  each  other,  and 
presenting,  to  all  but  Miss  Mid;3uni- 


mer,  the  appearance  of  a  mo 
perate  struggle.     The   crowd 
swains  grow  savage  at  the 
diverted  from  themselves,  an^ 
nile   Riverbank   throws   its 
the   water   with   excitement. 
pass  the  perplexed  judge  so  1 
abreiist    that  his  decision 
several  pounds  of  cerebral  pho 
and  a  tremor  of  apoplexy ;  ifb 
sun  laughs  **  Ho-ho  ! " 

Tbe  judge,  ho%vever,  reoave 
wits  sufficiently  to  discharge  a  I 
ballasted  oration  at  the  young 
in  presenting  the  cup,  allu 
feeling  terms  to  the  glory  of  ' 
cient  University  aod  the  proi 
her  nautical  sons^  *'*  who  could  < 
even  swift  Atlanta  in  her  i 
Whether  tho  judge  was  in  hial 
confidence,  they  never  kne 
they  feared. 

The  crowd  which  had  gat^d 
hear  a  classical  speech  of 
from  Bob  turned  on  its  \\fyA\ 
pointed,  as  he  received  the  cd 
a  simple,  ^*  Thanks,  very  muchl 
pa^ldled  oif  with  Alfred  to  the 
house  ;  where  their  first  wo 

"  Shall  we  vamose?  '* 

^*  Let's." 

And  they  did. 


A     N  U  E  S  E  R  Y     R  II  Y  1^1  K 

BY   CHUISTIXA    G.    ItOSSETTI* 

HjCiuH  what  the  mournful  sparrows  say : 
We  built  our  nest  compact  and  warmy 

But  cruel  hoys  came  round  our  way, 
And  took  our  summer-house  by  storm. 


They  crushed  the  eggs  so  neatly  laid ; 

So  now  we  sit  with  drooping  wing, 
And  watch  the  ruin  they  have  madej 

Too  late  to  buildj  too  sad  to  sing. 


^the  hitionc 
r,  tli«  diwij  Slid 
r  t^RKi^  wltkii 
bat  litd« 
>  §m{ti  fptma,  trmcti 
,  •appotimg 


vieRtiie 

of  ^Ok  A&tttir  flipfi''  ar- 

l»  wlioe  tlft#  tidis  <ir  tfe  t 

psfittimg  oC 

(oftlie] 

BOQj^t  €Wfpt  IWKt  It  M  JUV€&f  its  bt^lH 

being  matm  tboiulf 
feet  above  the  tA^  it  jret  bat  a  p«c«- 
Har  6»fe  af  iettllitT,  as  its  Uv  lamk 
nvtl  aoft  iatii  tbe  aea,  ataa^  of  M- 
tai  aadiwaispi^  wben  tbe  great  iiairi* 
gable  atiMitti,  tbe  FMomae,  tbe  Bap- 
pabanonckj  tbe  Tofb,  and  tbe  Jainea 
fiod  tbeir  waj  into  tbe  sea.  Altboogb 
^'tbe  Pesbtfitla''  b  tbe  famUiar 
af  tbe  hod  eodoMd  bj 
tb«  James  and  York  nrefs,  it  iiur 
ooi   be   genenDj  kzioini  tbai  tbeie 


New  Virginia. 


I 


are  no  loss  than  twel\re  peninsulas 
abutting  on  the  sea,  counting  down  to 
the  mouth  of  the  Roanoke.  Here 
on  this  jagged  water-front,  and  reach- 
ing back  for  UQih?s  along  its  tributa- 
ries, are  the  ^ils  famous  for  fruits 
rtnd  vegetables.  A  foreign  visitor 
has  remarked  that  there  are  no  sites 
on  the  continent  so  Italy -like  for 
fruits  £L%  soooe  of  these  peninsulas  of 
lowland  Virginia.  Eligible  sites  for 
fruits  and  vegetables  are  to  be  found 
on  every  creek  and  river  in  tlje  region. 
The  lig,  vine,  apricot,  tomatoes,  early 
vegetables  and  melons,  peaches,  pears, 
plums,  apples,  cherries,  damascenes, 
supjdy  the  markets  of  Baltimore, 
Pliiladelphia,  New  York  and  other 
Northern  cities.  The  vegetable  gar- 
dens  or  "  truck-farms  "  about  Nortblk 
are  being  multiplied  every  year,  aud 
have  opened  short  and  easy  cuts  to 
wealth  to  '  those  who  formerly  had 
their  lands  idle,  or  cropped  with 
cereals.  It  is  said  to  be  not  unusual 
for  the  skilful  market  gardeners  about 
Norfolk  to  make  twenty-five  hundred 
to  five  tlioiisand  dollars  clear  proiit  a 
year  on  patches  of  five  to  ten  acres. 
Yet  another  profitable  industry  of  this 
region  is  its  fisheries  j  and  so  abun- 
dant are  the  fish  and  oysters  of  the 
tide- water,  that  it  is  a  common  boast  of 
the  inhabitants,  that,  if  tliey  were  de- 
prived of  every  other  resource  of  sub- 
sistence (as  they  nearly  were  at  some 
perio<ls  of  the  late  war),  they  might 
yet  live  on  *^  the  milk  of  tlai  ocean/* 

But  let  us  retrace  our  steps  from 
this  border  of  Eastern  ^^irginia,  to  tho 
opposite  border,  where  the  ugly  belt  of 
old  worn  lands  again  receives  a  decora- 
tion. Our  travel  takes  us  to  *'  Piod- 
iwont  Virginia.*'  The  blue  heights 
which  we  had  seen  only  in  desultory 
glances  from  the  windows  of  the  cars 
hurrying  southward  from  the  Poto- 
mac   are    approached^    aud   in    pic- 


turesque landscape  there  fue 
perspective  the  Blue  Ridge,  tbe| 
of  Otter  and  Monticellw,  o? 
the  grand  dome  of  the  Unit 
Virginia,     We  are  in   a  eoa 
the  *•  vinous  laud  of  Italy, 
so  naked /^     The  fe^itures  an*  htD] 
dale,  undidating  surfuces  < 
wheat-tit;lds,     grove     and 
mountain  spires^  and  all    : 
of  scenery  which  are  dh} .  i 
the  mountain  and  lite  plain 
The  character  of  tho  agriculti 
changed  from  that  farther  to  ibel 
there  is  now  a  mixed  system  of 
ingy  planting,  and  grazing.  Thi 
counties  properly  comi>ose  tli« 
mo  lit.  Of  these  the  mort'  ^       ' 
which  hugs    the   mouni. 
Bedford,  Amher^st,  Nelson,  Alia 
and  Orange,  is  famous  fur  a 
soil  composed  of  the  red  clay  ; 
gray  disintegrating  rock,  j 
local  newspaper  at  hand  de 
**  the  best  in  t lie  world/'    The  ( 
thority  estimates  that  in  the  teal 
sand  square  miles  of  Piedmonft^ 
giiiia  til  ere  is  room  for  a  i 
at  least  a  millton,  with  i  > 
tlie  various  industries  of  ia 
pasturage, 

Xiut  even    in   this    auimalc 
inviting    country  we     are     uo<| 
accounted  to  be  in  "  the  garde 
Virginia.      Let   us    go   beyond 
mountains  —  and  new  scenes  "^i: 
We  have  struck  the  rich  soii 
loam,  and  limestone  ;   th  i 
ribbed  belt  that  girds  ti 
from  the  Potomac  to  Teun^ 
Kentucky,  and  widens  and     .... — . 
the  beautiful  Valley  of  VirginU.  1| 
are  in  a  country  where 
of  wonder  and  admirati- 
fulness.     The  fields  are  lirt- 
the  green  grass  and  the  hi 
the  hills  and  the  mountains 
valleys  smile  with  verdorts  j 


j^  n 


liiitlie 

In  tbcw 

oTiiflrfatiSn 

the  won  and  bar- 

kidi  dedtue  to  Uw   ie&. 

entire    Dortlieni    botdet^ 

ibe  vliole  extent  of  tbe 

Sonlli-wiil  Ytrginb,  lie 

\  tim  €attb  beds  of  limestooe 

lout  upoQ  ibe  smfAoe  ein^i^* 

,  tnrtttiig  capita]  umI  ^nter- 

and  raarkel  miDioos  of 

ijyid  to  fifiread  it  Qpoo  the 

Kotli  of  all  Ea^em  Yii^ 

sl^jr  ba»  reeentl/  recV* 

Iktug  deposit   u    tlie 

Yirginia;  greater 

arces;  and  it  maj 

literal   truth    that   the 

Ftbe  Vallt!/  knows  no  dan- 

i  li  Ibttoded  on  her  cverUist- 

tiock.     This  portion  of 

,  gcogcaphicaUy^  is  a  contin- 

tbfl    Wilful    Cumberland 

Ptafijwjlrania,    with  addi- 

i«90iireefi  and  beau- 

Ijf  ih«  fio&st  graziog  countrv 

lu   cereal   yieMs  will 

I  with  tboce  of  the  best  of 

being     twenty    to 

of  wheat,  or  from  forty 

\  of  Indian  corn*  to  the 

I  gfiaipn,  fruitd,  and  ttm- 

i  tb»  gamiture  of  one  of 


We  fMi  by  ^e 

vbieb  tba  vattis  ^f  wbl  triltmiff  of 

did  aot 


m  a 


iofiibij  diainitib;  a  m^wtm-h^^m^ 
fiNu&tam  •€  watot  velHit^  i^  pacn- 
futdtf  in  tiw  deq^  bcaaiiftti  basin  of 
tba  ddbot  land  in  tbe  StetCL  We 
are  nofv  in  Sostb-wnt  Yiigiaiaf  a 
covntr^  rieber  in  muwral  TCacnreea 
than  California,  and  more  beantifal 
and  raxioas  in  its  natnral  scenerr 
tlian  any  equal  area  in  America.  The 
modem  £1  Dorado  boasU  only  of  gold; 
but  here  are  not  only  salt,  plaster, 
limestone^  and  marble,  but  in  the  saoie 
belt,  in  an  area  twenty  miles  in 
width  by  sijcty  in  length,  are  eJ«»- 
tered  iron,  lead,  copper^  rinc,  baryta, 
and  numerous  other  minerals,  discov- 
ered but  not  develof>ed.  Gold  is  no 
longer  the  measure  of  mineral  wealth. 
The  lead-raines  of  South-west  Vir- 
ginia supplied  the  Conft-deracy  with 
shot  during  the  war.  C'ol.  W,  L. 
Brown,  the  chief  of  orduance  of 
the  Confederate  army,  te*titioa  that 
Wythe  County,  for  the  la*t  two 
years  of  tlu'  war,  alom%  supplii*d  the 
Con  fedora  I  e  anuy  with  Wd,  yielding 
one  hundriKl  and  lift/  thousand  poundk 


282 


New   Virginia. 


per  raontlu  Tlie  iron  of  South-weat 
Virginia  is  simply  inexhaustible;  and 
it  is  8aid  by  PeiiM^jylvania  iron-men  to 
be  worth,  if  tlevulopeil,  more  than  the 
golcl*mines  of  California.  Its  popula- 
tion is  least  inoculated  with  the  o]d 
social  prejudices  of  Virginia^  and  in 
this  respect  South-west  Virgtnin  of- 
fers a  peculiar  advantage  for  the  iui- 
niigrant*  Here,  indeed,  is  a  *'*  noble 
breed,"  a  peculiar  class  of  people, 
with  very  strong  marks  of  character 
upon  them.  They  difier  widely  from 
the  lowh^nd  rustics  in  the  fi-eedom  of 
their  manners,  their  superiority  to 
the  bash  fulness  and  slouching  of  the 
countrymen  of  Eastern  Virginia,  aod 
in  the  energy  and  even  sharpness  of 
t b  e  i  r  ili  scou  rse,  W  h  i  1  e  th  e  m  o  1 1  ri  ta  i  n  - 
eer  has  the  stoicism^  he  exhibits  the 
nil  a€lmirarij  the  silence,  the  self-col- 
lected ness,  of  the  red  man  of  the  for- 
est ;  it  is  only  when  he  discovers  you 
to  be  as  unatlected  and  natural  as 
himself,  that  ho  warms  into  discourse, 
yet  speaking  with  a  strange  energy, 
in  loud,  liistinct,  decisive  tones,  and 
with  a  brevity  and  sententiousness 
that  sometimes  really  rise  to  the  dig- 
nity of  a  literary  study. 

Ignorance  is  the  worst  that  can  be 
eaid  of  them.  But  what  is  most  re- 
markable of  these  parts  of  Virginia, 
often  called  ^*  The  Mountaiijs,^^  is  that 
we  should  find  some  of  the  best  intel- 
ligence and  refinement  of  the  8tate  in 
close  conjunction  her«3  with  the  most 
grotesque  Ibrms  of  ignorance.  In  a 
county  where  perhaps  one-third  of 
the  people  are  unable  to  reail  or  write, 
it  is  not  uncommon  to  find  elegant 
libraries,  homes  abounding  in  all  the 
nicer  comforts^  and  .social  circles  where 
arc  exhibiteil  the  real  refinements  of 
culture  witliout  the  affectations  of 
fash  lorn 

Having  thus  glanced  at  Eastern 
Virginm  (including  the  Tide-w^Ux)| 


Piedmont  Virginia,  the  Valley  o(j 
ginia,  and  South-we»t  Vir^iiiii 
reader    wdl    be   able   to  m\it\ 
something   of  the   resources  (i\\ 
State,  along  with  its  features f  \ 
appreciate  the  baib  of  its  ianta 
to  the  immigrant.     Climate,! 
productions  afford  a  happ| 
tion,  and  make  a  sum  of  i 
not  often  so  complete.    If  ii  WJ 
that  the  immigrant  prefers  to  I 
on    isothermal   lines,   then  Vii( 
has    the   ad  van  t  ago   <>^ 
way  with  the  great  ct 
pean   emigration,    especitiilj 
Germany*     The  prices  of  her  j 
aloTie  are  a  premium  for  immig 
The  tenant  in  England  antl  So 
pays  generally  as  much  auno 
per  acre  for  his  farm  as  w^ 
chase  supenor  land  in  Virgioia  I 
simple.      In   the   north-wust 
United  States,  where  such  b 
of  immigrant-farmers  annu 
in,   improved  land,  acoesjabk  I 
markets,  commands  five  aadsi:^ 
higher   prices    than    in    V< 
present     An    estimate    afionlll 
writer  is,  that  go^^wl   impmre 
east  of   the  mountains   in  Til 
can   be   purchased  now  at  fw 
to   twenty  dollars   per  acns; 
Vnlley,  land  of  the  same  «jo 
held  at   twenty-five   to  oti& 
dollars   per  acre  ^     but   thoM  | 
farms  are  exceptionally  rich, 
be  found  in  thick  settlements;  1 
productions  are  sucli  as  the 
labor  of  the  world  is  uecu»ti 
and  even  whatever  there  aro of  ^ 
ties  are  not  unknown  to  the  ^ 
peasant.     In  several  of  the 
States  the  people  under*ta 
turo   of  tobacco,   ana   skitlf 
culture  of  the  grape;  and  ihel 
are  thoroughly  trained  hx  eri?t 
of  rural  and  domestic  ecou<i 
fes^ev^W^  lOA  dairy-wom^D« 


Wf*^m 


Aew  Varffimia. 


281 


>  m 


ui    finite   of 

I   the  wealth 

*;  T  -      :    d  with 

ij    I        ,  .  i  ...  iig   air'' 

ttiTuible  gannent  of  inapira- 

b»  li^ldd  ftre  •loth^d  with  tiooks 

nisy  which  are  led   id  to  ^reen 

I  and  li«  down  hy  stiU  wAt«rs, 

k»  no  #our  growths  h«?rc ;  the 

be  pines,  And  the  broom -sedge 

M  exchanged  for  the  vigorous 

Atfed  ^1  the  healthful  blooms 

irmted  reg«taticiD. 

a  peculiar  Btorehause    of 

In   these    mountains 

kai  plaeedf  as  on  convenient 

the  gmat  fttorea  of  her  fertil- 

v«MTale  the  worn  and  bar- 

which  decline  to  the    ^ea. 

entire    northern    1)order^ 

the  wbcde  extent  of  the 

Sontfa-weat  Virginia,  lie 

aartfa  beda  of  liaw«lone 

opoQ  thm  turiace  eirecy- 

inritmg  capital  and  enter- 

aad  maiket  niiUoiis  of 

to  iprend  ft  upon  the 

of  all  Eastern  Tir- 

bea  i^eeoiJjrfeck- 

ft  Irrtiliiiag  depoeit  as    the 

weilth  oC  Vir]gi]iia;  greater 

jmotaen;  and  tt  may 

litenl  tnth  thai  the 

|r  oC  the  Taflef  knowtt  an  dan> 

en  her  ^laitast 

Title  pmtaon  ef 

the    IMlM  Cmml 

Pcnnajfliaai%  win 


the  mcnl  fiivwed  parte  ef  eattli. 
Unre  than  twentj  yean  afa  Dantel 
Webster  declared  in  a  poUic  Ofatio<^ 
tJiiit  **  he  had  seen  no  finer  farming 
land  in  his  Earopean  trareb  tJtan  in 
the  Valley  of  Virginia.^* 

Let  o^  now  imagine  oarsetiFes  pas^ 
ing  out  of  the  Valley  of  Virgriiiia, 
croestng  the  raiige  of  the  Allcglumy 
where  it  declines  to  the  soutli-west^ 
its  altitudes  •  sunken  and  broken, 
and  we  are  in  another  divisiou  of  tlie 
State.  We  pa$8  thixHigh  a  uhiittered 
side  of  a  natuml  gallery,  a  pictiircjM]iie 
confusion^  where  the  great  Appalachi- 
VLU  system  apparently  loses  its  unity, 
and  is  tossed  into  a  sea  of  uiouittaina. 
We  pass  by  the  salt-wt^lby  that  re- 
markable source  of  the  supply  of  brine 
which  the  wants  of  six  millions  of 
people  in  a  four-yean'  war  did  not 
sensibly  diminish;  a  never-failing 
fountain  of  waters  wclltrig  up  peren- 
nially in  the  deep,  beautiful  liaein  of 
the  richest  land  in  the  State.  We 
are  now  in  South-weet  Vtrginta;  a 
eonn^  richer  in  mineral  leeocircea 
than  California,  and  mom 
and  rarions  in  ite  nnliml 
than  any  eqoal  area  in  Aanerica,  The 
oodem  £1  Donde  beMli  only  e€  9rid| 
bnti  hero  aro  net  only  nrit,  H^ta^ 
lbmBiioDe,nndttniUe,hnlin  iIhimm 
heltr  in  sn  ifen  tweoiy  nrike  in 
width  by  stzty  in  lenfth,  mm  vhm- 


iethefbNst 

Ita  eeeenl  yteUewa 
with  theee  eT  the  htm  «f 


V    fo   Ite    hie$    f#e 
■^■•■t  •ep^iaif  inn 


284 


JKfeo   Virginia. 


of  tlio  South,  BO  fatally  displayed  in 
the  late  war;  viz,,  the  want  of  busi- 
ness talent, — that  faculty  which  meas- 
ures what  it  pn>jiase8  to  do,  and 
proTides  for  ita  work  means  system- 
atic and  adequate.  The  philosophic 
historian  will  remark  of  the  South 
in  the  past  war  a  strained  collection 
of  paltry  expedients ;  a  fussy  appear- 
ance of  doing  a  great  deal,  and  doing 
nothing;  a  great  sum  of  small  efforts, 
but  an  utter  want  of  practical  ade- 
quacy in  all  its  plans,  Tlie  liabit  of 
mind  which  induced  the  Confederate 
secretary  of  the  treasury  to  suppose 
that  he  might  raise  a  war-revenue  by 
collection-bags  in  the  cburchos  and 
gifts  of  old  jewelry,  and  which  boped 
to  build  gun-boats  by  advertising  for 
scraj)-iron»  —  thus  inducing  a  number 
of  old  ladies  throughout  the  South  to 
send  m  dismantled  kettles  and  old 
borse-shoes,  —  is  precisely  that  which 
has  since  been  sliown  in  the  attempts 
to  control  immigration  into  the  South, 
and  to  compete  with  the  large  and 
well-ordered  systems  by  which  tbe 
North  conducts  her  own  schemes  of 
material  prosperity*  There  has  been 
an  appearance  of  great  and  diffuse 
exe  rt  i  o  n ;  a  su  m  of  viol  en t>  i  11-  d  i  re  cte  d 
individual  efforts;  and  yet  nothing 
done  worth  mentioning.  The  *Mand 
agencies''  which  have  been  planted 
at  cross-roads,  and  have  advertised 
in  local  newspapers  and  on  painted 
fihingles',  hand-bills  on  the  cars  ;  and 
the  sending  of  some  impecunious 
adventurer  to  Europe  to  hunt  immi- 
grant-geese,  are  about  the  sum  of 
what  has  been  done. 

It  is  true  that  the  Legislature  of 
Virginia  has  constituted  a  "State 
Board  of  Immigration  ;  "  but  such  a 
caricature  has  seldom  been  exhibited, 
even  in  the  South,  since  Mr.  Mem- 
mi  nger's  plan  of  replenishing  the  Con- 
federate treasury  by  church-collections. 


In  the  first  place,  the  Le 
(Act  of  3d  March,  1866)  sti 
that  *'  in  no  event  shall  the  opt 
of  said  Board  be  a  charge  n| 
Treasury  of  the  State/*  Pro 
to  be  raised  by  voluntary  ci 
tions,  to  make  which  it  was  I 
land  proprietors  would  be  int4J 
the  country  newspapers  were  efl 
and  would  do  the  advertising 
So  the  "State  Board''  he^ 
advertisement  in  some  local  i 
per,  published  an  "Addres 
tlren  set  to  work  to  obtain  li 
donations.  With  what  resul 
the  curious  readier.  '*  I  sna 
officially  reports  Gen.  Ricl 
the  president  of  the  Board,  **  it! 
ing  a  loan  of  five  hundred) 
only,  and  by  donation  one  ' 
dollars ;  and  the  attempt,  beif 
festly  hopeless,  was  given  up.* 

The  short-sighted  view*  i 
proprietors  in  Virginia  wh 
duced  them  to  hold  up  prteel 
first  blush  of  the  appearand 
migration,  rather  than  to  solii 
lowering  their  prices  at  the  ' 
of  demandj  and  thus  securii 
said  to  have  given  the  finish  13 
to  the  **  State  Board,'*  which  \ 
proposed  to  co-operate  with  til 
had  their  lands  in  market,  ' 
triotic  and  estimable  Gen.  Bic 
who  by  proper  and  geneil 
might  really  have  done  somi^ 
build  up  the  fortunes  of  the 
the  bases  of  immigration,  th\i 
an  instance  of  disappointmen 

"We  were  notified  that  ' 
last  September  one  of  the  ca 
steamers  from  Copenhagen,  w 
hundred  emigrants  of  a  seli 
was  expected  to  arrive  at  N< 
and  that  they  would  be  seni 
ginia  if  lands  could  he  pure! 
them  in  fifty  or  one  huml 
farms.    A  gentleman  of  higl 


New  Virginia. 


285 


ith  the  company, 
an<l,  after  com  fer- 
tile Boanl^  endeavored  to 
lazuls  for  settling  those  emi- 
t,  awing  to  the  high  price 
fiiiled  to  make  the  pur* 
ihare  being  no  time  for  de- 
rtnnity  was  lost.  I  have 
■  informed  that  this  com- 
ht  more  than  two  hundred 
id  dollars  in  gold.'' 
commentary  was 
9  ebaracter  of  Virginia'^ 
scheme,  it  is  furnished 
vskt  this  State^  to  receive 
^ffeui  might  obtain 
'to  operate  through 
at  Castle  Garden,  acting 
iastmctioas  and  directions 
siniaatcmers  of  Emigration 
}tnU  <»/  New  York.  The 
Vij^nia  had  no  arrange- 
tlie  landing  of  immigrants 
a  pofts^  Her  whole  system 
(feet  is  one  of  meadicaQcy, 
to  %  machinery  outside  her 
^in  the  jurisdiction  of  an- 
,  and  likely,  of  course,  to 
ltd  lo  the  interest  of  that 
U^  deapite  the  wretched  pub- 
mgemeni  of  a  vast  concern, 
been  tome  tracers  of  immi- 
LQ  Virginia^  which  have 
of  ilk^jr  own*  They  have 
eitlier  from  irregular  agen- 
la  tha  folontary  movements 
B  learch  of  better  fortuned. 
^  disreputable  specu- 
ciM,^p7Uit  trade,  operating 
State,  have  brought  in 
m  fleah-markets 
'  poor  creatures 
borribly,  besides  inflict- 
a^dd  a  burden  upon  the 
where  they  have  been 
IlMli«d*  the  '^  land  agen- 
laibor  ag<encies*'  of  Vir- 
ftllen  iiito  great  disrepute, 


since  every  vagabond  and  moneyless 
at! venturer  has  found  a  sort  of  last 
resource  in  such  business  to  make  his 
bread  out  of  the  credulity  of  the  pub- 
lic, and  in  some  instances  to  reap  a 
golden  reward  by  sharp  practice  and 
cruel  fraud. 

Of  voluntary  sources  of  immigra- 
tion, which  usually  yield  the  best  and 
most  desirable  classes,  there  were 
some  prospects  in  Virginia  shortly 
after  the  war ;  many  very  respectable 
Northern  men  of  their  own  motion 
having  sought  to  plant  their  fortunes 
in  a  State,  of  the  resources  of  which 
they  knew  without  the  intervention 
of  untrustworthy  agents  and  solicitors. 
Here  was  the  best  prospect  Virginia 
ever  had  of  accessions  of  population 
and  wealth  from  abroad;  but,  unhap- 
pily, this  class  of  immigrants  has  al- 
most wholly  f\illeti  otf  for  a  peculiar 
reason ;  and,  what  is  worse,  it  is  a 
class  difficult  to  be  reclaimed,  after  it 
has  on«:!e  been  rebuffed  or  disappoint- 
ed. The  majority  of  such  desirable 
Korthern  people  who  adventured  into 
Virginia  with  capital^  bringing  with 
them  both  wealth  and  intelligence, 
and  who  would  socially  have  been  an 
accession^  have  been  driven  from  the 
State,  mainly  on  account  of  the  social 
prejudices  tliey  found  they  had  to  en- 
counter, together  with  some  asperities 
of  condition,  such  as  are  calculated  to 
revolt  that  class  of  immigrants  who 
are  able  to  choose  their  homes.  But 
the  prejudices  surviving  from  the  war 
and  directed  against  the  i>eople  of  the 
Korth  are  not  the  only  ones  in  the 
South  which  revolt  a  valuable  class  of 
immigration;  there  is  another  narrow- 
ness and  bad  temper  of  which  the 
South  will  have  to  cure  herself  before 
she  can  extend  the  hand  of  fellowship  to 
respectable  comers  from  all  quarters  of 
the  world.  A  keen  observation  will  de- 
tect in  the  South  a  certain  dislike  of  all 


#    2S6 


Kew  Virginia. 


^ 


strangers,  bred  out  of  long-continued 
liiiblt^  of  an  i:*olated  life,  beyond  which 
Soiitliern  men  in  the  past  seldom  trav- 
elled and  which  tliey  made  the  gtund- 
ard  of  all  that  was  best  in  the  world. 

It  remains  to  consider  the  last 
reason  assigned  for  the  flat  fail- 
ure of  imm  ignition  in  Virginia;  and 
here  wiU  be  found  not  only  the  great- 
est of  these  caases,  but  the  dominant 
interest  of  our  whole  subject,  and  one 
which  opens  up  the  entire  industrial 
condition  of  the  South-  Tiie  Virgin- 
ian has  made  a  mistake,  and  his  cus- 
tomer, the  imp^cuiuous  immigi-ant, 
has  made  a  mistake,  in  supposing  that 
this  State,  or  indeed  any  part  of  the 
South,  really  wants  lahor :  the  real 
want  is  capitaL  The  negro  labor  in 
the  South  is  the  cheapest  and  most 
tractable  in  the  w^orld.  It  i^  quite  as 
Biifficient  as  it  wa^  in  the  daj's  of 
shivery,  the  best  evi»3ence  being  (all 
newspaper  nonsense  to  the  contrary) 
that  the  negro,  since  emancipation, 
has  not  relaxed  as  a  laborer,  but  shown 
a  real  increase  of  industrvj  not  count- 
ing even  the  ten  per  cent  of  aLldifion 
in  numbers  he  has  made  in  the  last 
decade;  it  is,  in  fact,  cheaper  than  it 
w*as  under  slavery,  his  w\iges  being  so 
low  that  tlie  aggregate  is  estimated 
to  he  less  tlian  the  usual  eicpeiiditure 
accumulated  in  taking  care  of  him 
when  a  slave,  and  when  the  extrava- 
gance  of  his  proprietor  was  notorious; 
and  it  defies  the  competition  of  the 
white  man,  by  the  ability  acquired 
from  slavery  to  live  on  the  lowest 
scale  of  comforts,  to  practise  a  submis- 
sion and  obedience  which  even  the 
lowest  of  white  laborers  would  refuse, 
and  to  content  itself  with  modes  of 
life  to  which  its  competitors  are  whol- 
ly unused,  and  in  wliich,  so  far  as  the 
experiment  has  been  made  in  the 
South,  they  have  invariably  revolted. 

No  falser,  more  mistaken  idea  ever 


took  possession  of  the  hasty | 
the  South  than  that  of  su 
the  negro  by  foreign  whxXe  I 
gross  inconsistency  of  sue 
pectation  stares  out  in  the  fad 
native  poor  whites  of  iha 
abstain  from    working  a1oD{ 
negro,  and  decline  the  co; 
they  will  not  work  in  the  fiel 
is  yet  an  imputation  upon 
pauper  of  them,  besides  lieiu] 
profess  a  hopeless  task  for 
to  compete  in  labor  with 
Until  the  poor  whites  of 
themselves  will  give  the  ei 
working  by  the  side  of,  or 
the  negro,  and  show  to  the 
there   are  real  o[»portunitiei 
white  laborer  in  the  SoutU^ 
just  and  cruel  that  the  lane 
tors  should  expect  to  find  f 
the    hopeless    competition 
negro  among  people  of  the 
States  or  of  Eur<:>pe,  who  ac 
equal  in  self-respect    to   m 
same  color  in  the  South,  and 
no  harder  necessities  to  relit 

Of  tlie  refuse  of  Europe 
grants,  the  State  of  Vir| 
already  had  some  earperieni 
not  likely  to  repeat  it.  A  ^ 
of  such  —  they  were  called 
gians^'  —  was  recently  pli 
Amelia  County  ;  and  in  a  fei 
the  poor  creatures,  victtms  t 
less  speculation,  were  at  the' 
the  poorhouse,  or  had  beoC 
dcriug  mendicants.  The 
demand  of  Virginia  is  for  a 
ble  efficient  white  labor  to 
the  negro  J  and  such,  the 
sists,  it  will  not  6nd  io  the 
that  the  advertisement  for  i 
lusion  and  a  snare. 

The  negro  b  sufficient  for' 
ent  labor  demands  of  the  Soi! 
sufficient  than  he  ever  was  i] 
Nowhere,  at  the  wages  he 


New  Vtrginia. 


287 


fbuml  a  I.ibirer  more 
to  hal>it3  t>r  obe- 
li more  rtallj  efiScietit,  It 
urged  that  the  South  wouid 
look  to  the  market  of 
at  least  for  skilled  arti- 
the  labor  of  the  negro 
f  and  inaccurate,  and  u 
I  J  for  the  rude  work  of  the 
^t  here,  too,  is  a  mistake. 
obsecration  discorens  that 
omj  be  educated  for  any 
wodk;  that  the  creature 
prideoce  has  so  plainly  de- 
I  m  laborer  has  wonrlerfiil 
IS  soch  f  that  he  has  really 
hand,  when  it  has  not 
kIIj  bl anted  hj  roagh  work  i 
k^dly  treated  and  taught, 
irj3tbfe  through  a  range  of 
ita  extending  from  the 
of  handicraft  to  the 
.  of  the  fiifld  and  the  forge, 
seamstress  in  Virginia  is 
r  her  dexterity  and  delicacy 
m  the  most  exacting 
The  ex^iuisite  artificial 
in  Brazil,  from  the 
A&d  feathers  of  the  for- 
made  by  the  hands  of 
reproach  of  coarseness 
one  of  the  many  which 
fipom  the  negro,  as  he 
known  and  dereloped 
of  edncation. 

does  the  writer  con« 

labor  of  the  South, 

jiiefjioe  to  all  material 

be  would  have  special 

U>  coikserre  tt^  and  to 

all  lime.    Tlie  qfoestioii 

i  in  tlie  Sonth  is  not  so 

I  the  white  nuan,  a  one- 

hae  been  generally 

negfo^  too,  has  to  he 

Id  Trr^ia^  at  lenity  he 

at»  nnsettled  and  naevf 

icsnm  of  retj  low  wmq/tt. 


Th# 


that  there  is  a  real  danger  of  his 
etvtitual  de^rtiou  of  tbe  State.  In 
187*»  no  less  than  twenty  thousand 
negroes  are  estimated  to  hare  left  the 
Stat*%  attracted  by  tlie  better  wages 
of  the  far  South*  Many  of  thoso 
have  returned,  disappotnteil  and  ill- 
used  by  s[>erulative  agent*;  but  since 
then  there  has  been  a  marked  emi- 
gration of  what  are  known  as  **  house* 
servants/'  to  the  Northern  ci:icS| 
even  as  far  as  Boston,  whwre  they  get 
at  least  double  the  wages  allowed  in 
their  old  homes.  Virginia  can  ill 
aiford  to  lose  this  class,  the  vcr}*  bent 
of  her  colored  population,  and  long 
the  peculiar  pride  of  her  household 
economy.  In  fact,  a  necessity  may 
soon  be  evident  to  secure  tbe  residence 
of  the  negro  in  his  old  homes ;  and 
the  obvious  suggestions  are,  incTt^aned 
wages,  and  some  arrangements  iq 
att4ich  him  to  the  soil.  As  yer«  the 
negro  has  shown  but  little  ambttion 
to  obtain  an  interest  in  the  eoti  be* 
yond  his  wages  or  share  of  Am  ei9p', 
but  such  an  a^piratioo,  wUdi  mwm- 
liably  matka  and  inpliee  n  savtaiB 
stage  of  unpRyrcBicnl  m  tk*  TaTi'>7  ■«•* 
tem^f  a  eoiiotry«  will  ond  <# 

dereloped  in  hini  a»  be  eonrinv^  tm 
progress  he  is  nammmkmgfmti  AwM 
be  met  by  wise  pfwiMMM.  Willi  Ibe 
former  slaTee  eonTitrtoJ  f^^ttf  inle 
what  John  Beodoipb  00m,  and  it 
that  time  b j  a  iifantia  iecioiig  4^ 
scnbed  A^m,  ^n  U^fc  feoMMify^ 
the  b«t  in  Ike  waefd,'*  mad  mim 
changes  of  policy  and  0/  mMiieifi  1^ 
eonespond,  thete  ie  no  raawm  whf 
Ytigtnia^  en  soak  n  Im%  iwv  •^ 
miie  ainwel  tmj  iiyililPiiPlOie  ef 
prOi?penry,  stand  •  ummt  mm  mN#* 
tion  lu  the  weeUy  end  Mtfti^  fn  M 
leepeclj  tknS  ^9nir  ' 
jpipbeeied  and  m§im4  hw  ••  « 
deeeefdMwnr, 

If  after  di«  eeni^ittlnry  et^  Mr< 


288 


New   Virginia. 


reiil  condition  of  tlio  Soutli  us  respects 
Ittbor,  practical  advice  is  a^kud  by 
those  abroad  wlio  are  looking  to  this 
part  of  the  Union  with  hopes  of  bet- 
tvr  fortunt**,  the  following  may  serve 
as  a  principal  guide :  Do  not  com© 
unless  you  have  monoy  enongh  to  buy 
and  operate  a  small  piece  of  land,  or 
to  engage  in  some  business otlier  than 
that  of  a  day*laborer  with  no  other 
means  than  dayt?*  wages.  In  Vir- 
ginia, grown  tie  Id- laborers  get  from 
eight  dollars  to  ten  dollars  per  month  ; 
female  domestic  servants  from  six 
dollars  to  eight  dollars^  Your  white 
color  may  get  you  some  slight  ad- 
vance on  these  rates ;  but  you  will 
find  a  habit  and  countenance  of  com- 
mand over  you  (naturally  surviving 
from  slavery),  as  a  mere  laborer,  and 
an  expectation  that  you  will  put 
up  with  food  and  shelter  such  as 
you  have  not  been  accustomed  to, 
and  will  not  be  likely  to  endure.  A 
gentleman  of  the  writ^?r^s  acquaint^ 
ant'e  in  Virginia  recently  imported  on 
liis  farm  some  Gerruan  livhurers.  The 
first  night  after  their  arrival,  they 
asked  where  they  were  to  sleep,  and 
were  pointed  to  the  deserted  negro 
cubing  of  logs  and  dirt  floors.  The 
gentleman  J  kind  and  humane  enongli, 
had  no  idea  that  they  could  expect 
any  thing  else  than  what  his  negroes 
had  been  content  with,  and  was  as- 
toniiihed  next  morning  to  find  them 
fled  with  such  dismay  that  it  is  doubt- 
ful whetlier  they  stopped  this  side  of 
the  Atlantic.  But  this  is  only  one 
side  of  the  picture :  here  is  the  other. 
If  you  liave  money  enough  to  make 
a  small  investment  in  laud,  to  found 
an  enterprise  of  your  own»  probably 
nowhere  else  in  the  world  will  you 
find  such  an  opportunity  of  invest- 
ment a^  in  Virginia,  —  so  small  an 
outlay  required  with  such  a  prospect 
of  income.     Cheap  lands  ;  accessible 


markets;  a  delightful  cHr 
novelty  of  various  agrica 
peri  men  ts  of  great  and  yt 
promise  j  innumerable  opoi 
manufacturing  enteral  rise ; 
vailed  water-power;  a  cq| 
citcment  in  the  discovery  ol 
oped  resources;  the  hunt 
Dorado,  where  the  prizes 
mineniK — such  are  the 
extended  to  you. 

Virginia  wants   eapiial^ 
batlly.     It    is    preferable, 
this  capital  should  come  in 
of  immigrationj  rather  tlia 
of  impersonal  invest  ment*, 
more  desirable,  so  fitr  as  I 
tural  interest  of  Virginia  ts 
that  the  aggregate  of  capil 
trod  need  into  the  St^te  tsh< 
tributed  among  aa    many 
possible.    We  want  a  numl 
caf)italist3     dispersed     tbij 
State,  making  a  real  ace 
population,  infusing  into 
and  vigor,  and  especially 
tendency  to  cut   up   the 
proprietorships  of  Virginia 
farms.     This  last  result  wi 
qnisition  of  itself   to  the 
of  Virgin ia»  whiili  liaa  hei 
fered  and  yet  suffers  from 
large  fiirms,  that  has  excli 
of  small  means,  slighted 
tiou  of  the  land,  and  is  opi 
objections.     A     statistical 
hand   affords,  by  analysis^ 
ing  divisions  of  the  cultiva 
Virginia :  — 

3,351  fiirms  of  3  and  Qadct 

5,565  lamis  uf  10  imd  uniifsf 

19^584  tWrnie  of  20  nnd  und<9 

21 J45  fartur^  of  50  atnl  un^tn 

34,300  ffirms  of  100  and  un^ 

2,BS2  tWrms  uf  SOO  and  undel 

641  farms  of  1000  acres  j 


86,468  £uiii3  in  all. 


The  plan  purposed  by 


iVeto   Virginia. 


289 


i  bujing  large  bod- 
ID  in,  and  dividing 
^m^  ihenudves^  60  as  to 
btj  of  their  oim,  &c.,  is 
ooable.     It  would  be 
Soath   as  inv^idioos, 
dtqaes,  and  waold  en- 
differences  vrhich 
■aaageable    enough. 
;  wasted  in  Virginia  \%  a 
^f  the  largest  number  of 
lall  means  as  land  proprie- 
Ing  tbpm  well  mixed  into 
^ommunit^  of  the  State. 
liflkolty  to  such  a  con- 
^fbe  singular  fact  that 
W^  landA   in    Virginia, 
f  Im  boog^t  for  two  to 
*  acre,  are  held  by  ex* 
,  and  for  the  prev- 
ia large  tracts 
fizmiiihed    the 
TOch  estates  in  Vir- 
four  thoQsaod  to  one 
aeresw    The  dlfi»- 
laige  txacts  shoold  be 
pfOprietof9  themselfed, 
9jf  desiioms  to  fnoooie 
;  iH>  doubt  it  win  be 
aie  able  to  nn^fr- 
uest  in  this  direc- 
howereri    aakong 
i  lands,  aH  the  waj  from 
to   filfydoflars  an   acze, 
lar  may  have  nfidteDl 
to  dime  the    sbe  and 
finiB,  wilhoai  too  gmi 
I  Ilia  tiieaii%  toconuBenoe 
ire  agriiealrma]   life  io 
lie  epetting  ta  asa^  Idc 
ftodf  of  iieir-eo«nett ;  and 
feal  want  in    the 


of  the  Sute:  "Eoada,"  *'EoiMia,« 
«  Koads."  While  Virginia  boasU  o£ 
having  nearly  completed  within  her 
limits  fifteen  hundred  miles  of  taO- 
roiid,  at  a  cost  exceeding  atxty  aail- 
lions  of  dollars,  her  wretched  coon  try 
roads  which  lie  about  the  rail,  and 
afford  the  inter-Gomnramcaiions  of 
neighborboodj,  are  the  same  diapaee 
to  the  State  that  they  weie  m  geaeca- 
tion  agp;  and  it  is  nol  nasiaal  §a€ 
the  tzareUer  to  find  just  al  tbe  d^pM 
where  he  disatoimts  60m  sviftf  luxah 
ziooa  caxiy  naught  of  a  xoad  bat  da 
red  galled  strip  thioagli  old  feUa  or 
the  primidre  wooda  that  eenrad  tbflty 
or  ertn  fifty  years  ago  tlie  Ibailad 
needs  of  the  pioneer  and  the  fteU- 
hand.  This  is  an  e«per«d  aaieaiiCff 
aodobetnictkiiito  diefimao.  ft  li 
calcolated,  km  iaataao^  thai  tke  Vir- 
giiuan  ^ends  ahool  fear 
audi  power  to  cart  tbe  saai 
of  pfodaoe  as  a 
Pennsylvaiuafiunerdeca.  OtwAmh^ 
aaodier  eonteakaee  mqaiwd  %  Aa 
weB-lo-da  iantgraai,  |]k»  has  ka^ 
pily  been  a  reeeat  irriral  ia  Yw^aam^ 
to  all  tJie  CTteaH  tkai  eaa  W  wmmm* 

State  hare  jaU  lUlea  raleatfy  ia  km 
with  ^  fine  sekoek  i  "^  di^  an  pbatel 
in  ercty  eeaaty ;  aad  «kat  is  tadlf 

I  the  ofHll^  of  ] 
wlndidMyextad  la 


iaTir^aia; 
aO  tke  States  of  tk^ 
dHtiea  pcevrided  km 
leeblatlM  §m  tke 
of^aao^ta  her 


The 


iwhsdi 
,  befe  bat  lightly* 


orpaUia 


m 


290 


Wedded  to  Fate. 


even  thoae  wbo  drew  their  swords  in 
the  late  war  for  "  the  Southern  Con- 
federacy "  deign  to  undertake  tlie 
instruction  of  black  pupili^^  and  are 
applauded  for  it,  A  public  school  has 
heen  opened  in  Jefferson  Davis's 
former   residence  in   Bichmond,   the 


house  being  aold  by  the  St 
purpose  J  the  principal  of 
high  school  in  Petersburg  i 
ing  the  war  on  G^u*  Lee's 
the  superintendent  of  edn 
Richmond  was  ako  an  ofl 
Confederate  army. 


WEDDED    TO    FATK 

BY   HEVBREITD   R0BEBT8. 

"  Fluid  to  Grod,  and  flint  to  man  ; " 
'Twas  thus  the  ancient  adage  ran  \ 
Oh,  break  your  bondage,  ye  who  can  t 

0  slaye  to  he  a  willing  slave  I 

Hast  thou  nought  precious  thou  would  save 

When  aD  around  the  Fates  are  brave  ?  • 

And  why  to  God  art  thoa  akin, 

For  whom  the  great  worlds  meekly  spin, 

Wliilo  thou  hast  nowhere  to  begin  ? 

But  hold  1  and  firom  this  dear-^boaglit  hour 
Marry  thy  Fata  and  take  as  dower : 
"  Thy  rank's  not  higher  than  thy  power/' 

So  shaJl  the  great  world  spin  for  thee ; 
And  out  of  the  chaotic  sea 
Shall  rise  thine  own  eternity. 

Thy  fote  wept  thee  as  thou  thy  Fate, 
That  thou  wast  small  while  it  was  great^ 
And  would  not  be  more  intimate. 


Together,  smiling,  read  the  pla% 
Long  graven  ere  the  world  begaoi 
*'  Fluid  to  God,  fluid  to  man/' 


The  Vicar  ^s  Daughter* 


291 


THE    VICAR'S    DAUGHTEB; 

AK  AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL  STOBT. 

BY   G£ORG£  MACDOKALI>. 


CHAPTER  XVUL 
ttSS   CI.AKK's  HOICE. 

id  now  arriTed  ai  the  pas- 
te gm-ebop  was  flar  bg 
m  Ibg.    A  man  in  a  fa^tian' 

ime  out  of  it  and  walked 
before  ns,  with  the  clay 
;k-6eld  clinging  to  him  as 
B  leather  straps  with  which 
ECt  were  confined,  garter- 
r  the  knee.  The  place  was 
^e  and  the  brickmaker 
&  only  people  in  it  When 
the  last  comer,  he  was 
a  at  the  very  door  where 
I  had  disappeared.  When 
^her  that  was  the  house, 
after  the  man,  who  came 

R standing  on  the  pave- 
itil  we  came  up. 
Clare    live    in    this 
_  thftr  asked. 

^anawered  the  man  cnrtlj. 
»r?" 

!«  yet  the  second,  nor  the 
lire  neafer  heaven  than 
r  io  ibe  honse  'cep'  m73e]£ 
m  atti^  and  so  do  she." 
ia  m  waj  of  living  nearer 
that^"  said  my  father, 
hand,  "with  a  right  old 
/'  on  bis  shonlder* 
^c^p*  yoo  was  to  go  up 
■*  said  the  man,  with  a 
kia  eye,  which  my  father 
tbat  ho  understood  him 
he  cboatto  a4.'knowledge ; 

patatte  the  figure, 
a   loogtiy  lumpish  young 
good  but  doll  features  — 
aye  vaa  clear.     He 


looked  my  father  full  in  the  fece,  and 
I  thought  I  saw  a  dim  smile  about 
his  mouth* 

**  You  know  her,  then,  I  suppose  ?  '* 

'*  Everybody  in  the  house  knows 
her.  There  ain't  many  the  likes  o' 
her  as  lives  wi'  the  likes  of  us.  Yon 
go  right  up  to  the  top.  I  don't  know 
if  she^s  in,  but  a'most  any  onell  be  able 
to  tell  you.     I  ain't  been  home  yet.'' 

My  father  thanked  him,  and  we 
entered  the  house,  and  began  to  as- 
cend. The  statr  was  very  much  worn 
and  rather  dirty,  and  some  of  the 
banisters  were  broken  away,  but  the 
walls  were  tolerably  clean.  Halfway 
up  we  met  a  little  girl  with  tangled 
hair  and  tattered  garments,  carrying 
a  bottle."' 

*'  Do  you  know,  my  dear,"  said  mj 
father  to  her,  "  whether  Miss  Clara  is 
at  home  ?  " 

"I  dunno,"  she  answered,  "I 
dun  no  who  you  mean.  I  been  mind- 
in'  the  baby.  He  ain't  well.  Mother 
says  his  head^s  bad.  She*s  a-going 
up  to  tel!  grannie,  and  see  if  she 
can't  do  suthin'  for  him.  You  better 
ast  mother.  —  Mother  !  '^  she  called 
out  —  **  here's  a  lady  an*  a  genlem*.* ' 

**You  go  about  yer  business,  and 
be  back  direckly,"  cried  a  gruff  voice 
from  somewhere  above. 

"That's  mother,"  said  the  child, 
and  ran  down  the  stair. 

When  we  reached  the  second  floor, 
there  stood  a  big  fat  woman  on  the 
landing,  with  her  face  red,  and  her 
hair  looking  like  that  of  a  doll  ill 
stuck  on.  She  did  not  speak,  but 
stood  waiting  to  see  what  we  wanted. 

*«I'm  told  Miss  Clare  lives  heie/* 


292 


The  Vicar* 8  Daughter. 


said  my  father.  "Can  jou  tell  me, 
my  good  woman,  whether  she'a  at 
home?" 

"  I*m  neither  good  woman  nor  bad 
woman/'  she  returned  in  an  iuaolenfc 
tone. 

"I  beg  your  pardon,"  said  my 
father ;  *'  but  you  see  I  didn- 1  know 
your  name." 

"  An*  ye  don't  know  it  yet  YouVe 
DO  call  to  know  my  name.  Ill  ha* 
nothing  to  do  wi'  the  likes  o'  yon  as 
goes  about  takin'  poor  folks's  childer 
horn  'em.  There's  ray  poor  Glory's 
been  an'  took  atwixt  you  an'  grannie, 
and  shet  up  in  a  formatory  as  you 
calls  it ;  an'  I  should  like  to  know 
what  right  you've  got  to  go  about 
that  way  arter  poor  girls  as  has 
mothers  to  help." 

"  I  assure  you  I  had  nothing  to  do 
with  it,"  said  my  father,  **Fm  a 
country  clergyman  myself,  and  have 
no  duty  in  London/" 

'*  Well,  that's  where  they've  took 
her  ^ —  down  in  the  country,  I  make 
no  doubt  but  you've  had  your  finger 
in  that  pie.  You  don't  come  here  to 
call  ujKjn  us  for  the  pleasure  o'  mak- 
in*  our  acquaintance  — ^  ha !  ha  I  ha  I 
—  You're  alius  arter  somethin' 
troublesome,  IM  adwiso  you,  sir  and 
misa,  to  let  well  alone.  Sleepin'  dogs 
won't  bite,  but  you^d  better  let  'em 
lie^ — and  that  I  tell  you." 

"  Believe  me,"  said  my  father  quite 
quietly,  **I  haveu't  the  least  knowl- 
edge of  your  daughter.  The  coun- 
try's a  bigger  place  than  you  seera  to 
think  —  far  bigger  than  London  it- 
self. All  I  wanted  to  trouble  you 
about  was  to  tell  us  whether  Miss 
Clare  was  at  home  or  not," 

"  I  don't  know  no  one  o'  that  name. 
If  it's  grannie  you  mean,  she'a  at 
home,  I  know  —  though  it's  not  much 
reason  IVe  got  to  care  whether  she's 
at  home  or  not" 


"  It's  a  young  —  woman,  I  mti 
said  ray  father, 

"Tain't  a  young  ladj 
Well,  I  don't  care  what  yoi, 
I  dare  say  itll  bo  all  one,  come  j\ 
ment.     You'd  better  go  up  *!^i 
can't  go  no  further,  an'   k    - 
head  agin    the   tiles^  anrl 
may  feel  about  for  a  door  r 
at  that,  and  see  if  the  party  is 
it  is  the  party  you  want&" 
*  So  saying  she  turned  in  at 
behind   her  and   shut   it- 
could   hear   her  still 
grumbling. 

"It's  very  odd,"  said  my 
with  a  bewildered  smile.     **! 
we'd  better  do  as  she  says, 
till  we  knock  our  beads 
tiles." 

We  climbed  two  staira 
last  very  steep,   and    so 
when  we  reached  the  top 
necessary  to  follow  the 
rections  literally,  and  feel  al 
door.     But  we  had  not  to  f«el 
far,  for  there  was  one  close  Id 
of   the    stair.     My  father 
There  was  no  reply ;  but 
the  sound  of  a  chair,  and 
some  one  opened  it.     Tho  onl 
being  behinrl  her,  I  could  not 
face,    but   the  size    and   sl 
those  of  Mi^  Clare. 

She  did  not  leave   nt 
however;   for,   without    a 
hesitation,  she  held  out  hwr 
me,  saying,   "This    is   kind 
Mrs,  Percivale ;  "  than  to  mji 
saying,  "  I'm  very  glad  to 
Mr.  Walton.     Will  you  walk 

We  followed  her  into  the 
was  not  very  small,  for  it 
nearly  the  breadth  of  the  h^ 
one  side  the  roof  sloped  ao 
the  floor  that  there  was  not 
enough  to  stand  erect  in* 
other  side  the  sloping  part 


cr 


Tkt  rSear  « 

videndj  fcr  &  ^effanniL. 
cuAzig'&  It  witf  friMw  tnfes 
>f  the  koQse !  Bj  i^ 
igle  moold  cftOffisy  I  sar 
^r  was  10  cfessL  as  <iiii 
be  WMfitf  md  I  von;- 
die    acniib&ed    iSkem, 

mer  windows  wa«  faonip 
LUiitT  cvrtaios.     Biek  in 

the  zooC  betweei  t^ 
3d  an  c^bixmiiL 
tore  than  looa 
and  the  cefXiikg  iv  a  Bfr- 
ktnette  with  bosifai  limniH 
gelj  crowned  henL  A 
hanging  dMh^es  wese  on. 
side  bj  the  door  t»  dbe 
tnd  the  walk,  which  wue 
,  were  a  good  deal  C0V^ 
-whether  citgraTi^i  er 
[ithogT^>hs  I  cobU  Bflt 
one  of  them  fiased,  €oIj 
card-board.  Thcze  was 
lIIv  boming  in  the  gab^ 
to  that  stood  a  tall  oid- 
t>inet  piano^  in  faied  red 
open ;  and  <m  the  mssi&e- 
iel's  *•  Yerdi  Prati," — fer 
o  glance  at  it  10  we  lefL 
en  chairB;  and  one  xfsj 
i  easT-chairy  oorered  with 
tz,  &CMn  which  no^  ^aae 
olor    almost    had    dinp- 

an  oblong  taUe  of  deal, 
le  fomjitiire  of  the  room. 
IT  father  sit  down  in  the 
>laoed  me  one  in  front  of 
[  took  another  at  the  cor- 
»  my  fsther.  A  moment 
iDowed,  which  I,  haying  a 
ienee,  felt  awkward  But 
erer  allowed  awkwardaeeB 

oped  to  have  been  able  to 
roa  kmg  ago,  Ifiw  Clare, 
■•  MOM  diflieiilty  in  find- 
■•  JOS  lifed."    . 


WIbeI 


f^ 


pieaaeta  puc  in.  me. 

ti9  wMSf  snssEC  moBBiL  juve  imb 

iKm'rf  a  ^nacim.  im: »  sdt 

ssBsne   oesL  milBBiifiifflL  'Utv  ftc  fs'QHt  tfe- 

iaA,  a  ^sa^irmsa^m  levins  m  l&m 
^psaaSKc  imiHt  W  is  ym^ 

*lf  jm  n^oe  M  miiiyiiiwd  wiiA  m^ 
HnBitorj .  j^iK  wvo^  pezkops  hadfiifiii^ 
Me.  WalBaa.  heiK«  jwa  ■■£  I  jimmd 
WKf/mdftsi  SKk  ^aaiifaBCi^B^'' 

filers  a  tkoao&u  scmek  bk. 

^I  £iiai!7.  pac«»  is  »  aoc  §m  her 
owa  ak»  Miss  «IIaze  Ins  Inse.'*' 

^  I  ho^  EflC'^  ih«  zniuecpfiMeiL 

**I  befipi'rft.*  I  w»3E£  liffl-  -she  haii  a 
gmadiiMXAi^  w^  prii&aMy  haa  gswra 
accostocBtfd  ^  ^e  plaee^aaMl  is  «»- 
williitg  to  icare  tslT 

Sike  k»ked  pozd&i  for  a  mi.'wiiFBfj 
then  boxst  jbxo  a  mtuj  ^aaw-g* 

""I  Ke,^  she  exi^aimed.  "" How 
Btnpad  I  am !  Yoa  hare  heard  loaae 
of  the  pM^  in  the  hoose  talk  about 
^ramMie  :  thar  s  me !  I  am  known  in 
the  hoose  as  grannie^  and  hare  been 
for  a  good  manj  rears  now  —  I  can 
hardlj,  wit  boat  thinking  tell  for 
how  manj." 

Again  she  laughed  heartily,  and  my 
£itber  and  I  shared  her  merriment. 

^'How   many   grandchildren   hare 
you  then,  pray.  Miss  Clare  ?  ^ 
«  Let  me  see.^ 
She  thou^t  for  a  minute. 


294 


The  Vicar's  Daughter. 


*'  I  could  easily  teU  you  if  it  were 
only  the  people  iu  tliis  house  I  had  to 
reckon  up.  They  are  ahout  0ve  and 
thirty;  but  unfortunately  the  name 
baa  been  caught  up  in  the  neighbor- 
ing houses,  and  I  am  very  sorry  that 
in  consequence  I  cannot  w^itli  certain- 
ty say  how  many  grandchildren  I 
have.  I  think  I  know  them  all,  how- 
ever ;  and  I  fancy  that  is  more  than 
many  an  English  gran  d  mot  lie  r,  with 
children  in  America,  India,  and  Aus- 
tralia, can  say  for  herself.'* 

Certainly  she  was  not  older  than  I 
^was;  and  while  hearing  her  merry 
laugh,  and  seeing  ber  young  face 
overdo w(^d  with  smiles,  which  ap- 
peared to  come  sparkling  out  of  ber 
eyes  as  out  of  two  well-springs,  one 
could  not  help  feeling  puzzled  how, 
even  in  the  farthest-off  jest,  she  could 
have  got  the  name  of  grannie.  But 
I  could  at  the  same  time  recall  expres- 
sions of  ber  countenance  which  would 
muL'h  better  agree  with  the  name 
than  that  which  now  shone  from  it* 

"  Would  you  like  to  hear,"  she  said, 

*wben  our  merriment  had  a  little  suV 

sidedj  **'  how  I  have  so  easily  arrived 

at  the  honorable  name  of  grannie,  — 

at  least  all  I  know  ahout  it  ?  " 

"  I  should  bo  delighted,"  said  juj 
father, 

**  You  don^t  know  what  you  are 
pledging  yourself  to  when  you  say 
80,'*  she  rejoined,  again  laughing. 
**  Yon  will  have  to  hear  the  \Yhole  of 
my  story  from  the  beginning/' 

**  Again  I  say  I  shall  be  delighted/' 
returned  my  father,  confident  that 
her  history  could  be  the  source  of 
nothing  but  pleasure  to  him. 

CHAPTER  XIX 
HEB  STOBr. 

Theeeupon  Miss  Clare  began.  I 
do  not  pretend  to  give  her  very  words, 
but  I  must  tell  her  story  as  if  she 


were  telling  it  herself.  I  sba 
true  as  I  can  t^  the  facts,  mi 
to  catch  something  of  the  i 
narrator  aa  I  go  on. 

"  My  mother  died  when  1 1 
young,  and  I  was  left  alone  \ 
father,  for  I  was  his  only  ( 
was  a  studious  and  thought 
It  viay  be  the  partiality  of  i  j 
ter,  I  know,  but  I  am  not 
wrong  in  believing  that  diffid 
his  own  powers  alone  prevent! 
from  distinguishing  him«<ilil 
was,  he  supported  himself  andl 
literary  work  of,  I  presume,  a  f 
ary  order.     He  would   §[»eai| 
mornings  for  many  weeks  in  1 
ly  of  the  British  Maseumi- 
and  making  notes;    after. wl 
would  sit  writing  at  home  \ 
or  longer.  I  should  have  I 
dull  during  the  former  of  \ 
had  he  not  early  discovered  1 
some  capacity  for  music,  and  j 
for  me  what  I  now  knowlo! 
the  best  instruction  to    be 
feeling  alone  had   guided 
for  he  wKs  without  musical  1 
I  believe  he  could  not  have  I 
a  better  teacher  in  all  Eu 
character  was  lovely, 
the  natural  outcome  of  i 
But  I  must  not  forget  it  is  i 
self  I  have  to  tell  you.     1 1 
then,  almost  every  day  for  m\ 
but  how  long  that   wiis,   I 
guess.     It   must   have 
years,  I  think,  else  I  could 
attained  what  proficiency  1 1 
my  sorrow  came  upon  me. 

'<  What  my  father  wrote 
tell.  How  gladly  would  I 
the  shortest  sentence  I 
his  I  He  never  told  me 
journals  he  wrote,  or  even 
publishers.  I  fancy  it 
which  his  brain  was  mor^ 
than  his  heart,  and  wUich 


The   Vicar^e  lMxti,g\tfr.  295 

■Ji  k>pmg  to  exchange   f:r   a^jrae-  ^j.-'gi^r  5.r  —  —  r^^.  g.-— -^nr^r^  f:-r  i.-zzre 

kbg  xn-i-re  to  his   mind.     Aficr  lis  itf..-r*r  -7  fL.iLrr  jikHiT  t;.  z^t  :  ':.rr  hr 

l^di  I  could  discorer  scajcjtr^r  a  scrap  iZw^kj*  jiijii-  •:  ri-r  --r^  i_:i.-ut  Le 

't  writings,  and  nor  a  Lii::  lo  g^ie  laJ  T*iaL  a^  ~  iiJ  w":^.^  f.-^:.  I  ^1-=  jli  rLi 

lito  what  be  had  writieiL  iur'>:'ii.--i    f:*.-^     I    zi^is^l    l    ^rta^ 

i  ■! believe  we  went  on  liTirtS  frxL,  d*;LJ   :r  :i:i5  '-^tuz^rji^z  tlr   M-^ — 

W  to  mouth,  mv  faiher  liever  ret-  —  &  rrei.:  i-^L.!  zi  r*-  •-"•-^'  I  s .::«:•< j?-?-! 

tio  far  ahead  of  the  wolf  ag  to  c«e  a:  tL-  t-=ir..    .^i.t  ri*.L  ^i«.  tlat  I  kiri-w 

to  pause  and   choijse   Lis  waj.  prr:-:rtTLj  wL-r*-  _i.  'i-r  :  l-'-e  lj.-  r:rt^ 

■  I   was   very   happv,  and  w^.ild  ^ltt   --f  t:  -z  w:^  -•.   "..^  fvjz*!  if  :: 

■*  been   no  whit  leas  happj  if  he  w^-  ti-^r^  tr  s-11     I  :-i»i:  zz,r:jz^:-j.y:i&- 

1  explained  our  circumstincea.  f.-r  V  I*a!=_ri  j---—^'-  -  r  .z  -.liaffirirktiTi- 

*  would  have  conveved  to  zie  n:  -  'l^-  kf^-rzi..-..-   I  w-^e  w^tli^z  fce 

•  of  danger.  Xeitber  has  any  of  iia^ikL  i-zz  zz-j  LurL-rr  i-i  lut  .-..iiit  at 
f  nSering  I  have  had  —  at  lea&t  xht  r_=>r  i.:->.LL>^  I  wi^:;ei  .'L  a:*! 
rkeen  enough  to  be  worth  dweZiiiz  :■-  rZ  :t  ;rr«rir  :.jj:k.  ai;i  tie  L.-^ir  f.»r 
lii — eprang  from  persoiial  prrr;^  ti>?Li.r  arr:-=;I,:.r  wi^.L  tnje  I  was- 
ly  although  I  am  not  uiLac<^:ialiLted  ii.  rreu.:  :_L-^a.r.u-::si!> :  b!it  I  w-mi-  f.rj^i 
h  hunger  and  cold.  to  2"--  Li-tLiT  -rizix  tzz  L-zl  I  r-a-r  l*e- 
'My  h^piest  time  was  when  xy  tet:  oTrrrti^  :»ar: -fnyLlsrtory.fL-revr-:. 
kcr  mftked  me  to  play  to  Lim  wlile  ye:  I  ::ikL  9Cikr'.:r>  >5&.r  to  sVcak  of  It. 
vzQCe.  and  I  sat  down  to  z:y  lii  I  f,'^-:i  :Li*.t  vLl-  I  wi^e  wiLit.:;^.  Le 
met  Broadwood,  —  the  oi»e  yo^  Lai  >rt:-  arJi-si  ir^ti  ■»:/=**  ki-i  of  ir 
there  is  as  like  it  as  I  Twuld  niiL  iz.  tLe  r*-a__;-j-rj-.:i-  b-iii  Lad  >rt:ii 
ift*!  p'layed  any  thing  arid  tv^rr  -jarr-rsd  L.-m-.  *-jL  r.:.i-:  I  wsir  i^,:--=  .l 
kg  I  liked,  — f'jr  s-jz-rh-fW  I  ^^rer  tl-=  v  t.L  IL-  L^jli-*:;-  f,r  vr  ^ :.  » 
|Dt  what  I  had  oiije  leaner  1 —  re:.:.ed  tj'.zl^  .:.  :":.e  L  -•^--.  w  t-  --rr 
3e  my  father  sat.  as  Le  »jJ-1  l.kf  i  k^_i:.  r.,  iLr..  i-t  1-^.-*  .1."  .  -:.-  :.  ,«: 
Be  extension  of  :Le  iix:nzie-t-  ti.^:  -7-  z^'.i-.t  ':.*■:  l-f:  :,'.  ■-:-.■--: 
■ased  upon,  rather  iLiii  li^trrLlir.  Hr  li*.  •;-.^:.  >-:i.  .ilj  .-':»-. -.i-  :  r  sh 
he  wrrote-  What  I  tbei:  r'*>j/\-.  'i.:lz  ^'^-^  -  i--.  -  w  lt-l  I  ".  k  t^-  ■••*■  t. 
CAnnot  telL  I  don't  OrLeve  I  I  'j_'«^'i  rt-e  *■.-*  Lr  :L-r'-  L-^'-r  •>?r:- 
Bght  at  alL  I  only  muilrit'*?'!.  ir  rL  r:  -■:  —  .--^y  :,r  -  i:.^  -a  -r-t-  «;.:  .^ii'*. 
Ittle  papQ  of  mine  on«:*  »a;d  to  zir.  A  fr^  v/".r  -■.■-^.:_^  ,.  l...  ,-.-  .  "'^ 
■B,  having  found  Ler  sitrir^j  w::l  -tz^c-::? — :.r  •.--:  f.r:. 'vrr  v.  ;.^  ._.•■ 
t  hands  on  her  lap  before  tLe  piii.  .  owr.  — -^  '.--  -  .  -i^  v  :■.:.  -  *  •  r  :. :.- :-  /  r  -  .'- 
iriced  her  what  she  was  doiiiZ:    'I  !,>:_::.  ;:'ur  •--•l    T.-r  •.-  ;.;:•  -^'-r.t 

I  only   musicarin  j/   she  ai. -  we r^  1    f .  r    *-•: -    t  L .. -. .*"    :. :.  -.-  s    ■•  i. .  -^  >r.    '. :. 

K  the  enjoyment  was  noi*e  tLe  1^^^  j.-— ./-r  _  .^:   I  \»-    ^r.    ,:  ••--:  «'•-,!- 

tt  thei%  was  no  conscious  th:-:;^:-:  k^  -?  1        ■--;  .-•-  v     M     *.'■->     •.j-,ic*rr-. 

iL  VI  „.        •----    ^     /     >//.    ',y  'J.J*        I   Wit- 

•Oiher  branches    he   taTizir    z.e  e-;.-    i^  -    :--^r-..-    <.*     .t:.\j    ::.w 

■kI£  and  I  believe  I  2-jX  -.-l  r-ry  :l^* '•.-:'-     .-■.►.-.    '^     .'-:    i,".:- ^ -.;:.•*     ..'i 

Hy  fvr  my  a^e.     We  L-^i  •L-=l  .«  .^-    r--.  -     I    r-*""^'-.'"    '••-'-  —  ''-''•■"': 

e  ttrighboihood    of   the    Mur^-n.  LL.^-r-.    —--:-.  J  :.  L'-,vv  V'/'.ii. -Li;. 

fl  was  well  known   to   all   i;.-  a.:   ------J  ^;  . -*'>::  :.-i;.:-o  '.iirr.-;'i  off. 

of  the  place,  ior  I  used  ofrez.  -'V:.-.-     :'.-    -*.-    w;*^    ov«:r.    ai.'J 

there,  and  wc»ld  linger  ab'>at  ^t^-.tj  :L:i.5  re::*o'*«5'J,  I  cat  down  oii 


296 


The  Vicar's  Daughter. 


I 
I 
I 

I 


tBe  flooT;  amidBi  the  dust  and  bits  of 
paper  and  straw  and  cord,  without  a 
single  idea  in  my  head  as  to  what 
was  to  become  of  rae,  or  what  I  was 
to  do  next.  ,1  didn't  cry,  — that  lam 
sure  off  —  but  I  doubt  if  in  all  London 
there  was  a  more  wretched  child  than 
myself  just  then.  The  twilight  was 
darkening  down,  —  the  twilight  of  a 
November  afternoon.  Of  course  there 
was  no  fire  in  the  grate,  and  I  had 
eaten  nothing  that  day ;  for  although 
the  landlady  had  offered  me  some  din- 
ner, and  I  had  t^cd  to  please  her  by  tak- 
ing some,  I  found  I  could  not  swallow, 
and  had  to  leave  it  While  I  sat  thus 
on  the  floor,  I  heard  her  come  into 
the  room,  and  some  one  with  her;  but 
I  did  not  look  round,  aiid  they,  not 


seemg  mo. 


and  thinking, 


^suppose, 


that  I  was  in  one  of  the  other  roc»ms, 
went  on  talking  about  me.  All  I 
afterwards  remembered  of  their  con- 
versation was  some  severe  reflections 
on  my  father,  and  the  announcement 
of  the  decree  that  I  must  go  to  the 
workhouse*  Though  I  knew  nothing 
definite  as  to  the  import  of  this  doom, 
it  filled  mc  with  horror.  The  moment 
they  left  me  alone,  to  look  for  me,  as 
I  aupposedj  I  got  up»  and,  walking  as 
softly  as  I  could, glided  down  the  stairs, 
and,  uobonneted  and  unwrapped,  ran 
from  the  hou&e,  half-blind  with  terror. 
"  I  had  not  gone  farther,  I  fancy, 
than  a  few  yards,  when  I  ran  up 
against  some  one,  who  laid  hold  of 
me,  and  asked  me  gruffly  what  I 
meant  by  it.  I  knew  the  voice :  it 
was  that  of  an  old  Irish  worn im  wlio 
did  all  the  little  charing  wo  wanted,  — 
for  I  kept  the  rooms  tidy,  and  the 
landlady  cooked  for  us.  Aa  soon  as 
she  saw  who^it  was,  her  tone  changed  ; 
and  then  lirst  I  broke  out  in  sobs,  and 
told  her  I  was  running  away  because 
they  were  going  to  send  me  to  the 
workhouse.     She  burst  into  a  torrent 


m  1  9U 

mtil  Jl 

7^ 


of  Irish  indignatioD^  and 
that  such  should  never 
while  she  lived  I  most  fs" 
the  house  with  her^  she  si^id, 
my  things;  and  then  I  sli 
home  w*ith  her,  until , 
better  should  turn  up. 
would  go  with  her  an} 
into  that  house  again; 
not  insist,  but  afterwards  ^ 
herself  and  got  my  little  wj 
In  the  mean  time  she  led  me 
a  large  house  in  a  squani,  ol 
she  tix>k  the  key  from  ht-r  [x 
open  the  door.  It  looked  to  i 
a  huge  place  I  —  the  largest 
had  ever  been  in ;  but  it  wa* 
dei!olate,  for,  except  in  one  ht 
below,  where  she  harJ  scanx 
than  a  bed  and  a  chair,  a  siiji 
pet  and  a  frying-pan,  there  w 
article  of  furniture  in  the  whc 
She  bad  been  put  there  when 
tenant  left,  to  take  care  of  tl 
until  another  tenant  should  s 
turn  her  out  She  had  herh( 
and  a  triflo  a  week  l>esides 
services,  beyond  which  she  i 
entirely  on  what  she  eou 
by  charing*  When  she  had 
to  live  in  on  the  same  terms, 
a  room  somewhere. 

"  Here  I  lived  for  several 
and  was  able  to  be  of  use 
Mrs.  Con  an  was  bound  to 
at  certain  times  to  show 
over  the  house  who  brougbt 
from  the  agent,  and  this  n< 
took  up  a  gr>od  part  of  her 
time  ;  and  as  moreover,  I  co 
the  door  and  walk  about  the 
well  as  another,  she  ^viilinglj 
in  charge  as  often  aa  she  b 
elsewhere, 

'•  On  such  occasions,  ho 
favitid  it  very  dreary  indeet 
people  called,  and  she  wouh! 
frequently  be  absent  tli< 


lildr;  tai  I  k^  MS  s 


\^ikh  n  m  aid  i»ks«»«a 


,  ipilriag  mm  £»el 
Bqinittwi  er€fj 
lii    lafe,   that    I 
lley^  w«ie  to  me  like  Imi^ 

It  wwm  1MI4  mtll 
|t&a  I  m^M  able  to 

rV  letiooft  are  not  IIms 

'  lie  lipaiateil  frooi  kin;  tkal 

I  b  not  dM  naa, 

dianged  irliile  1w  jtt 

tfidiTidoalitjry  —  is  llie 

waa  blind  tiioQgli  hm  nmw 

It  eomea  t&ml,  tlie  deadi 

:  filfly  aD  stain  of  tbem  mkj 

t  oot  of  him.     I  di4  not, 

ad  all  ibid  UDtil  alter-* 

bot  I  bdiere,  odd  as  it  may 

it  Tolitaie  of  tb«   Newrgate 

r  tbxi* V  down  the  fitst  deposit 

r^RHS  «rhicb  altcrrarda  Bpntng 

iw  to  be  atmosi  a  passion  in 

'gvtliJli^  the  people  about  me 

•^apaadioii  which  might  hare 

nmch  barm  as  good,  if  its 

patieoce,    had    not    been 

tit  gnido  and  restrain  it.   In  a 

nne  at  length  to  nDilerdland, 

watmsan,  the  la^t  pruyer  of 

for  tboie  that  crucified  him, 

jnd  on  which  he  begged 

xber  their  forgiveness, — 

ot  what  they  did. 

'fihbndar  nas  indeed 

Bg  of  thia  600196  of  educa* 


•wr  wm,  titti  h  womH  haf« 
repaired  a  oaoaidenUa  aftift  of  ibe 
wiD  iir  anj  bodilj  laor^aaat  wbaK  j 
ercE.  When  be  bltnl  bk  banJ,  ll 
€«a^  a  ^ioapaa  oC  m  pafe,  tarM 
&e«;  and  tt  ia  no  wutder  Ikal  the 
Tiitiie  of  the  sight  sbomld  timrtt  bara 
pasaad  awaj. 

^Oa  Ssadaja  vo  went  to  dbirahi 
IB  the  oiomtii^  and  in  the  aftemoon^ 
in  fine  weather,  went  out  fc»r  a  walk  i 
or,  if  it  were  raining  or  eold^  I  played 
to  bim  till  he  fell  asleep  on  the  sofa. 
Then  in  the  ereniog,  after  tea,  we 
had  more  music,  some  poetry,  which 
we  read  alternately,  aod  a  chajtter  of 
the  New  Testament,  which  he  always 
read  to  me.  I  mention  thijs,  to  show 
yoq  that  I  did  not  come  all  unpre- 
pared to  the  study  of  the  New^te 
Calendar.  Still,  I  cannot  think,  that, 
under  any  circuiustaucos,  it  could 
hare  done  an  inuocoiit  child  harm. 
Even  familiarity  with  vice  in  Hot 
neoeaisarily  pollution.  There  cannf^*t  hn 
many  women  of  my  ago  aa  familiar 
with  it  in  every  shape  ad  I  am  ;  and 
I  do  not  find  that  I  gr<iw  to  regard  it 
with  one  atom  less  of  absolute  abhor- 
rence, although  I  neither  tthudder  at 


298 


The  Vicar* 8  Daughter. 


the  mention ,  of  it»  nor  tani  with  dis- 
gust from  tbe  person  in  whom  it 
dwells.  But  the  consolations  of  re- 
ligion were  not  yet  consciously  mine, 
I  had  not  yet  begun  to  think  of  God 
in  any  relation  to  myself. 

**The  house  was  in  an  old  square^ 
huilt,  I  believe,  in  the  reign  of  Queen 
Anne,  which,  although  many  of  the 
houses  were  occupied  by  well-to-do 
people,  had  fallen  far  from  it«  first 
high  estate.  No  one  would  believe,  to 
look  at  it  from  \hB  outside,  what  a 
great  place  it  was.  The  whole  of  the 
space  behir^d  it,  corresponding  to  the 
small  gardens  of  the  other  houses^ 
was  occupied  by  a  large  music-room, 
under  which  was  a  low-pitched  room 
of  equal  extent,  while  all  under  that 
were  cellars,  connected  with  the  sunk 
story  in  front  by  a  long  vanlted  pas- 
sage, corresponding  to  a  wooden  gal- 
lery above,  which  formed  a  commu- 
ni<"ation  between  the  drawing-room 
floor  and  the  music-room*  Most  girls 
of  my  age,  knowing  these  vast  empty 
spaces  about  them,  would  have  been 
terrified  at  being  left  alone  there, 
even  in  mid-clay.  But  I  was,  I  sup- 
pose, t^o  miserable  to  be  frightened-  * 
Even  the  horrible  facta  of  the  New- 
gate Calendar  did  not  thus  affect  me, 
not  even  when  Mrs.  Conan  was  later 
than  usual*  and  the  night  came  down, 
and  I  had  to  sit,  perhaps  for  hours, 
ill  the  dark,  —  for  she  would  not  allow 
me  tKy  have  a  candle  for  fear  of  fire. 
But  you  will  not  wonder  that  I  used 
to  cry  a  good  deal,  although  I  did 
my  best  to  hide  the  traces  of  it,  be- 
cause I  knew  it  would  annoy  my 
kind  old  friend.  She  showed  me  a 
great  dt^al  of  rough  tenderness,  which 
would  not  have  been  rough  had  not 
the  natural  grace  of  her  Irish  nature 
been  injured  by  the  contact  of  many 
years  with  the  dull  coarseness  of  the 
uneducated  Saxon,    You  may  be  suro 


I   learned   to  love  her  de, 
shared  every  thing  with 
way  of  eating,  and  would  hafl 
also  the   tumbler  of    gin 
with  which  slie  generally 
day,   but  something,   I  da< 
what,  I  believe  a  simple  pbjrj 
like^  made  me  refuse  that  all 

"One   evening   I   hav« 
eause   to  remember,  both 
and  because  of  something 
lowed   many  years  after, 
the  drawing-room  on  the  fii 
double  room  with  folding  do! 
small  cabinet  behind  comia 
with  a  back  stair;  for  the  sH 
double  all  through  the  hotia 
much  to  the  e^riness  of  the 
look  back  upon   it   in   my 
I   fear,   in    describing  the 
minutely,  I   may  have  bea 
false   expectations  of  an 
but  I  have  a  reason  for  b*s 
minute,   though    it   wilt   m 
until  afterwards.     I  had  bei 
out  of  the  window  all  the 
upon  the  silent  square,  foe 
no  thoroughfare,  it  was.  only 
by  the   passing   and   re  tut 
and  then  of  a  tradesman's  { 
as  it  was  winter,  there  WBa 
dren  playing  in  the  gardi 
a  rainy  afternoon.     A  gra; 
fog   and   soot  hung   from 
sky.     About  a  score  of  ycl 
yet   quivered  on    the  lr*?ei 
statue  of  Queen  Anne  stood 
disconsolate  among  the  ban 
I  am  afraid  I  am  getting  Ion 
but   somehow   that    aiternti 
burned  into  me  in  enamel, 
drearily  without  interest 
over  the  past ;  I  never,  at 
so   far  as   I  remember,  dt 
looking  forward.     I  had  no 
never  occurred    to   me   thi 
might  grow  better.     I 
wretched.    I  may  just 


The  Vicar's  Daughter. 


299 


uz^  that  I  thiak  this  experience 
A  grt^mt  measure  what  ha^  en- 
d  me  to  unUersUnd  the  peculiar 
laj  of  the  pour  in  our  large  towns, 
htj  Kjune  no  hope,  no  impulse  to 
Ibfwmrd^  nothing  to  expect ; 
fSf^but  iu  the  preatent,  and  the 
IMS  of  tluit  soon  shapes  the 
ftimosfihere  of  their  spirits  to 
likeoeoB*  Perhaps  the  first 
Ig  one  who  would  help  theoi  has 
1^  u  tu  aid  the  btrth  of  some  small 
iio|ie  in  them ;  that  is  better 
k|  a  thofuand  gifts,  especially  those 
kt  ordioiUT  kindf  which  mostly  do 
teadtog  to  kxep  them  what 
Qy — m  pt^y  to  present  and  im- 
nsU  wanu. 

It  b^gan  to  grow  dark,  and,  tired 
Einding,  I  sal  down  upon  the  floor^ 
(.bert  w^aa  nothing  to  sit  upon  be- 
HieTe  I  stiU  sat^  k>ng  after  it 
k.  All  at  once  a  surge 
liroBe  in  my  he^t.  I  burst 
1^  aod  sobbing,  and  cried 
God  Itas  forgotten  me  alto- 
The  fact  was,  I  ha^I  had  no 
iSr  that  day,  for  Mrs.  Con  an  had 
^^bfA  ta  retom  long  before ;  and 

Saf  bread  she  had  given  me, 
I  all  that  was  in  the  house, 
m  many  hours  ago.  But 
M  oot  thinking  of  my  dinner, 
igb  the  waat  of  it  may  have  had 
la  witii  ibis  burst  of  misery. 
11^  I  «aa  ivaJiy  thinking  of  was, 
Mi  I  «oiild  do  nothing  for  any- 
f.  My  litfl<^  ambition  had  always 
I  to  be  useful  I  knew  I  was  of 
^  mm  to  mj  father ;  for  I  kept  the 
^  tjilj  for  bini,  and  dustc^d  his 
%mik^ — obt  ^^  carefully  !  for  they 
I  Gila  bcnuebold  gods  to  me.  I 
h^  played  to  bizOf  and  I  kbew 
^^ei]  that:  be  aaid  so,  many 
■  Aii4  I  bad  begiuif  though  not 
Bfctev  ha  left  mo,  to  think  how 
'^  be  able  to  help  bim  better 


I 


by  and  by.  For  I  saw  that  he  worked 
very  liard,  —  so  hard  that  it  made 
him  silent;  and  I  knew  that  my 
music-mistre^  made  her  livelihood, 
partly  at  least,  by  giving  lessons ;  and 
I  thought  that  I  mighty  by  and  by, 
be  able  to  give  lessons  too,  and  then 
papa  would  not  require  to  work  so 
har^l,  for  I  too  should  bring  home 
money  to  pay  for  what  we  wanted. 
But  now  I  was  of  use  to  nobody,  I 
said,  and  not  likely  to  become  of  any. 
I  could  not  even  help  poor  Mrs. 
Couan,  except  by  doing  what  a  child 
might  do  just  as  well  as  I,  for  I  did 
not  earn  a  penny  of  our  living ;  I 
only  gave  the  poor  old  thing  time  to 
work  harden  that  I  might  eat  up  her 
earnings  !  What  added  to  the  misery 
was,  that  I  had  always  thought  of  my- 
self as  a  lady,  —  for  was  not  pap*a  a 
gentleman,  let  him  be  ever  so  poor? 
Shillings  and  sovereigns  in  his  pocket 
could  not  determine  whether  a  man 
was  a  gentleman  or  not  1  And  if  he 
was  a  gentleman,  his  daughter  must 
be  a  lady.  But  how  could  I  be  a 
lady  if  I  was  content  to  be  a  burden 
to  a  poor  charwoman,  instead  of  earn* 
ing  ray  own  living,  and  something 
besides  with  which  to  help  her?  For 
I  had  the  notion — how  it  came  I 
cannot  tell,  though  I  know  well 
enough  wherwe  it  came^ — that  posi- 
tion depended  on  how  muc!i  a  person 
was  able  to  help  othf^r  people;  and 
here  I  was,  useless^  worse  than  use- 
less to  anybody!  Why  did  not  God 
remember  me,  if  it  was  only  for  my 
father's  sake  ?  He  was  worth  some- 
thing, if  I  was  not!  And  I  would 
be  worth  something,  if  only  I  had  a 
chance!  —  *  I  am  of  no  use,'  I  cried, 
*  and  God  has  forgotten  me  altogeth- 
er!' And  I  went  on  weeping  and 
moaning  in  ray  greivt  misery,  until  I 
fell  last  asleep  on  the  Boor. 

^'  I  have  no  theory  about  dreama 


300 


The  Vicar's  Daughter. 


and  visions ;  and  I  don't  know  what 
you,  Mr.  Walton,  may  think  as  to 
whether  these  ended  with  the  tirst 
ages  of  the  church  ;  but  durely  if  one 
falls  fast  asleep  without  an  idea  in 
one's  head,  and  a  whole  dismal  world 
of  misery  in  one's  heart,  and  wakes 
up  fjuiet  and  refreshed,  without  the 
misery^  and  with  an  idea,  there  can 
be  no  great  fanaticism  in  thinking 
that  the  change  may  have  come  from 
somewhere  near  where  the  miracles 
lie,  — in  fact  that  God  may  have  had 
Bomething — might  I  not  say  every 
thing  ?  —  to  do  with  it.  For  my  part, 
if  I  were  to  learn  that  he  had  no 
hand  in  this  experience  of  mine,  I 
Ciiuldu't  help  losing  all  interest  in  it, 
and  wishing  that  I  had  died  of  the 
misery  which  it  dispelled.  Certainly, 
if  it  had  a  physical  source,  it  wasn't 
that  I  was  more  comfortable,  for  I 
was  hungrier  than  ever,  and,  you 
may  well  fancy,  cold  enough,  having 
slept  on  the  hare  floor  without  any 
thing  to  cover  me  on  Christmas  Eve 
—  for  Christmas  Eve  it  was.  No 
doubt  my  sleep  had  done  me  good, 
but  I  suspect  the  sleep  came  to  quiet 
my  mind  for  the  reception  of  the  new 
idea. 

'*  The  way  Mrs,  Conan  kept  Christ- 
mas Day,  as  she  told  me  in  the  morn- 
ing, was,  to  comfort  her  old  bones 
in  bed  until  the  afternoon,  and  then 
to  have  a  good  tea  with  a  chop ;  af- 
ter which  she  said  she  would  have  me 
read  the  Newgate  Calendar  to  her. 
So,  as  soon  as  I  hatl  washed  up  the 
few  breakfast  things,  I  asked,  if,  while 
she  lay  in  bed,  I  might  not  go  out  for 
a  little  while  to  look  for  work.  She 
laughed  at  the  notion  of  my  being 
able  to  do  anything,  hut  did  not  ob- 
ject to  my  trying.  So  I  dressed  my- 
self as  neatly  aa  I  could,  and  set  out. 

"There  were  two  narrow  streets  full 
of  small  shops,  iu  which  those  of  fur- 


niture-brokers predominated,  l< 
from  the    two  lower   corner*  d 
square  down  into   Oxford  St^>«J 
in  a  shop  in  one  of  these,  1  ffw 
sure  which,  I  had  seen  an  old 
standing,  and  a  girl  of  about  mjr 
age  watching.     I  found  the 
last,  although  it  was  shut  up; 
knew  the  name,  and  knocked  &1 
door.     It  was  opened  by  a  stool 
tron,  with  a  not  unfriendly  exp 
who  asked  ma  what  I  wanted.    I' 
her   I   wanted   work.       She 
amused  at  the  idea, — for  I  was 
small  for  my  age  then  as  well  as 
—  but,  apparently  willing  to  Iiai 
chat  with  me,  asked  what  I  co 
I  told  her  I  could  teach  her  dao 
music.     She  asked  me  what  mi 
come  to  her,  and  I  told  her. 
she  asked   me  how   much   I 
charge,     I  •told  her  that  some 
had  a  guinea  a  lesson  ;  at  which 
laughed  so  heartily,    that  I  hod 
wait  until  the  first  transports  of 
amusement  were  over  before  I 
finish  by  sa^'ing  that  for  my  pait 
should  he  glad  to  give  an  \\ 
son  for  threepence,  only,  if  sh»  [ 
I  should  prefer  it  in  silver.     But  Ml 
was  she  to  know,  she  asked,  that! 
could  teach  her  properly.     I  t*ili!  M 
I  would  let  her  hear  me  play 
upon   she   led    me    into    ti 
through  a  back  room    iu   which 
hush  and  sat   smoking   a  long 
with  a  tankard  at  his  elbow, 
ing  taken  down  a  shutter,  she 
aged  with  some  difficulty  to  cleaf  aj 
a  passage  through  a  crowd  of  fulfl 
tore  to  the  instrument,  and  witfcl 
struggle     I    sipieezed     thn>ugh    al 
reiit^hed  it ;  hut  at  the   first  chord, 
struck^  I  gave  a  cry  of  dismay.    I 
some  {darm  she  asked  what  was  ^ 
matter,  calling  me  child  very  kift<!| 
I  told  her  it  was  so  dreadfully  out  ( 
tune  I  couldn't  play   tipoo  it  at  ll 


7^e   Vicar's  Daughter. 


301 


^nhe  womld  get  it  tuned,  I  shoold 
bog  la  tboiriDg  her  thst  I 
[o  wha^t  I  profeased.     She  toU 
coold  not  afibfd  to  h^ve  it 
«id  if  I  oOfiM  Dot  teach  Ber- 
tt  a0  k  wma,  Am  eouljit^t  help 
»»  bowfnrer»  I  avoied  her,  wad 
impofliible ;  upon  which«  with 
how  4kf  ofience^  »he  leadied 
chest   of  drawers,    aod   shot 
li^  eorer.    I  heliere  she  dooht- 
ih^et  I  could  pbj  at  all,  aod 
t  been  mereljr  amttmug  m/pelf 
e%p«ttfeu      XoUitng    was  left 
h^nk  hor,  hid  her  good-moni- 
icl     walk    out    of  the   hoo^ 
11/  disappointed, 
rilling  to  go  home  at  ooce,  I 
aboat   the    neigh borboody 
after  street,   ontil    I 
ipieli  in  another  sqaaie,  with 
ft  of  hosinesa-eigns  in  it, — 
that  of  a  piano-forte  ^rm, 
\   of  which,   a  thought  came 
head.     The  next  morning  I 
^  «ad    reqneeted   to  see  the 
Tbe  mail  to  whom  I  spoke 
in  doshty  but  he  went,  and  re* 
Dtr  a    little  whOe,  during 
mf  heart   beat  very  fast,  in- 
to walk  Into  the  counting- 
ICr.    Perkins    was    amused 
oC  mj  attempt  to  pro- 
»  and    its    fmstrjAtioo* 
him    for  monej,  to 
belieTe  hunger  it^lf 
le,  he  would  prob- 
got    rid  of    me   quickly 
a&d  smaQ  blame  to  him,  as 
wiidd  have  said ;  but  to 
that  be   would    spare  a 
Uia.  Lampeter's  ptanOj 
at   once  that  be    would, 
ooold  saiisfj  him  ixA  to  my 
Thtrvopon  he  asked  me 
about  muaic,  of  which 
tid  answer  and  some    I 
Kext   he  took    me  into 


the  flbop^  set  me  a  sfasol  in  foont  of  a 
gland  piano^  and  told  mt  to  pla^ .  I 
eo«hl  not  b^p  tiemhling  a  good  doaly 
but  I  tried  mj  best  In  a  few  mo- 
menta^ bowerer,  the  tean  were  drop- 
ping on  the  kejB ;  and,  when  he  asked 
me  what  was  the  natte^  I  told  hsn 
it  was  moDtfas  stnee  I  had  touched  a 
ptanou  The  answerdid  not,  howeret^ 
satisfy  him;  be  asked  wmrj  kind!/ 
bow  that  was»and  I  bad  to  tell  htm 
mj  whole  statj.  Tben  he  not  onlj 
promised  to  hare  the  paaoo  taned  Ibr 
me  at  oBce,  bnt  told  me  that  I  might 
go  and  practise  there  as  olten  as  I 
pleased,  so  long  as  I  was  a  good  giil, 
aod  did  not  take  ap  with  hod  oaropa- 
nj.  Imagine  my  delight!  Then  be 
sent  for  a  timer,  aod  I  suppose  told 
him  a  little  abont  mtf  lot  the 
spoke  recy  kindlj  to  me  as  we 
to  the  brokers. 

'*Mr.  Perkins  has  been  a  good 
&iend  to  me  erer  nnee. 

^  For  six  months  I  continued  to 
give  Berrha  Lsmpeter  Jeeeoas.  They 
were  broiken  off  only  when  she  went 
to  a  dressmaker  to  learn  her  bcoi- 
nesa.  Bat  her  mother  had  by  that 
time  introduced  me  to  seretal  fami- 
lies of  her  aoqoaintanoe^  amongst 
whom  I  found  fire  or  six  pupibi  cd 
the  same  terms*  By  this  teacbing, 
if  I  earned  little,  I  leamed  much; 
and  ^T^tf  day  almost  I  practised  at 
the  mujsic^bop, 

''When  the  boose  was  let,  Mrs. 
Conan  took  a  room  in  the  neighbor- 
hood^  that  I  might  keep  up  my  con- 
nectioUf  she  said.  Then  first  I  was 
introduced  to  scenes  and  exp<*ricnees 
with  which  I  am  now  familiar.  Mrs, 
Percivale  might  well  leooll  if  I  were 
to  tell  her  half  the  wretchediiesS| 
wickedness,  and  Tulgartty  I  have 
seen,  and  often  bad  to  encounter. 
For  two  years  or  so  we  changed  about, 
at  one  time  in  an  empty  houiSi  at 


302 


The  Vicar's  Daughter. 


another  iu  a  hired  room,  sometimes 
better,  sometimes  worse  off  as  regard- 
ed otir  neighbors,  until,  Mrs.  Conan 
having  come  to  the  conclusion  that  it 
would  he  better  for  her  to  confine  her- 
Belf  to  charing,  we  at  last  settled 
down  here,  where  I  have  now  lived 
for  many  je^rs. 

"  You  may  be  inclined  to  ask  why 
I  had  not  kept  up  my  acquaintance 
with  my  mtisic-miatresa,  I  believe 
the  sho<.'k  of  losing  my  father  and 
the  misery  that  followed  made  me 
feel  as  if  my  former  world  had  van- 
ished; at  all  events,  I  never  thought 
of  going  to  her  until  Mi.  Perkins  one 
day,  after  listening  to  something  I 
was  playing,  asked  me  who  had 
taught  me;  and  this  brought  her 
back  to  my  mind  so  vividly  that  I  re- 
solved to  go  and  see  her.  She  wel- 
comed me  with  more  than  kindness,  — 
with  tenderness,  —  and  told  nie  I  had 
caused  her  much  uneasiness  by  not 
letting  her  know  what  had  become 
of  me.  She  looked  quite  aghast 
when  she  learned  in  what  sort  of 
place  antlj  with  whom  I  lived;  but  I 
told  her  Mrs,  Conan  had  saved  me 
from  the  workhouse,  and  was  as  much 
of  a  mother  to  me  as  it  was  possible 
for  her  to  be,  that  we  loved  each  oth- 
er, and  that  it  would  be  very  wrong 
*of  me  to  leave 'her  now,  especially 
that  she  was  not  ao  well  as  she  had 
been ;  and  I  believe  she  then  saw  the 
thing  as  I  saw  it  She  made  me 
play  to  her,  was  pleased,  - —  indeed 
surprised,  until  I  told  her  how  I  had 
been  supporting  myself,  - — and  insist- 
ed oa  mj  resuming  my  studies  with 
her,  which  I  was  only  too  glad  to  do, 
I  now,  of  course,  got  on  much  faster, 
and  she  expressed  satisfaction  with 
my  progress,  but  continued  manifest- 
ly uneasy  at  the  kind  of  thing  I  had 
to  encounter,  and  become  of  necessity 
more  and  more  familiar  with* 


*' When  >rrs,  Conan  fefl  ill, 
indeed  hard  work  of  it 
most  of  her  class,  she  bad 
tride  of  money  ;  bat  as  sooa 
ceased  to  add  to  it,  it  began 
die,  and  was  very  soon  goui 
what  I  could  for  a  while,  if 
not  been  for  the  kindness 
neighbors,  I  should  sometim 
been  in  want  of  bread;  and 
hear  hard  things  said  of  the 
often  think  that  surely  imprty 
is  not  so  bad  as  selfishness.  \ 
course,  there  are  ail  sorts 
them,  just  as  there  are  all 
every  class.  When  I  went 
teach,  now  one,  now  aoothei 
women  in  the  house  wou 
charge  of  my  friend;  and 
came  home,  except  her  gTiardii 
pened  to  have  got  tipsy, 
found  she  had  been  neglected. 
Harper  said  I  must  raise  my 
but  I  told  her  that  would  be 
of  my  pupils.  Then  she  » 
must  see  what  could  be  done 
only  BO  one  she  knew  was  It 
employ  a  child  like  me,  if  I 
to  teach  ever  so  well.  One  u 
however,  within  a  week,  a  not 
from  Lady  Bernard,  asking  m 
and  see  her. 

"I  went,  and  found ^ — a 
You  do  not  know  her,  I  think 
you  must  one  day.  Good  peoj 
you  must  come  together-  I  n 
attempt  to  describe  her.  Sb 
me  at  first,  and  I  could  hardlj 
to  her,  ^  I  was  not  much  moi 
thirteen  then  ;  but  with  the  aw 
a  certain  confidence  which 
better  than  ease.  The  immeci 
suit  was,  that  she  engaged 
and  play  for  an  hour,  five 
week,  at  a  certain  hospital 
children  in  the  neighborh 
she  partly  supported.  For  shi 
strong  Relief  that  there  was 


The  riooTM  DnugMgr^ 


sm 


ling  powez.    Her  Ifamj 

healing  energy 
nind,  and  fiuM  iL 
y,  and  tiiat 
»nly  bj  lemofiisg  cerlaam 
stacles  to  tlie 
belieTes  tiisfc 
.  the  mind  Im 
of  "hazmoaj,  lht 
operates  ovtvard,  wo&a- 
al  powers  also  mss  the 
action  of  faeah^L     A^mt 

ma  J  be  in  ii,  I  -esimiit 
do  think  tltat  good  hM 
the  lesolt  of  mj  filaji&g 
hildren;  for  I  go  staSL 
quite  so  often,  a«&d  xt  ie 
le  to  walck  sj  unmk 
I  in  l^t  tram  maut  nf 
pale,  soifeiing  &oefi.  Sket 
;  to  paj  me  wrndk  iar  it  st 
inqnired,  b^Rre  msfcing 
.  how  rnnch  I  wsuBairBB&j 
ed  me  nposi  li  w  mndi  I 
-t  Mrs.  Coioan  asid  jDTBokf 

and,  tKen  made  the  fium 
lIj  earning  -up  •»>  that 
t  the  saxne  tjane,  Lowerer, 
anj  t>iTngK  to  "WTtrm  and. 
wc^maau  BO  titat  hit  mind 
a£e  abcnzi  ber.  She  got  a 
&tt«T  for  a  wMe,  but  coii- 
iSer  so  m:nch  from  i^Hm- 
It  she  was  ^urlie  imlh.  tv 
ling  anj  more:  and  I 
ear  of  ber  agabi  ez;jK)eing 
Ike  damps  and  dran^rst  of 
S£.  so  kxng  ac  I  wub  alue 
>r  ber.  — cf  -rbich  abilitT 
;  ssrc:  I  was  not  a  Iha^ie 

been  talking  for  a  lone: 
Eft  mar  seem  to  ba^e  saic 
accosxtt  for  your  lindmr 
It  lefe  me:  bm  I  vili  trr 
t^  pcnut   ae    guickh-  ae 

■ha  mH  aitiKtIjbud  i$, 


we  imd  jMmiw«£  ibd  "aTiif  libtys^^a 
ffifn^^>  ^QiiilfiBC.  iinr  iSbt  iiag  w  umac 
•iif  :^ut  luHHEiF  ix:  iiniBn:  wt  jm£ 
][  awiitwiiilitg'  ane  jl  '▼duiOi  li. 
iBad  ^  fiiisr  T^  Bxic  Ofivi!!.  lifip  a 
flnnctaBlL  bflffe  vi  Dnf*  'tiinie.i  bt  HnnHifflir 
ti>  ffieaO  .nhmg  iimc  jbhit  in  asBir  Ukst 
a  welHnHUiiiing  .^tiDC:  "^"^n"^  of  ::feiniXe^ 
•fmxngpBq^ikr;:  n^iDBck'  of  iBnit»cnzR> 

JlwjiHwfiTTtjr  XL  yaei  OOL  *&&:  umitr  uf  USB^- 

uoA.  fnii£&  of  iOBt  iiiiiiibisBict  2  iiac 
s&aami  -&»  &EBad  m»euin^.     ^  wiii>  a 
gwid  -vdiikr  ifB&zRr  -sill:  mnaczifft  of  ^ii» 
lunae  axu&  I  "tmpxL.  ~sl    kntifr   ettcn. 
ucbBC.    TLsr  jBndmrd  iiaci  ^ixnifni  naz 
i3bt  fe^tnwr  -fiBnam  'Hf  "siik  isasn^r  ^tor 
idle  liac  bfiHL  long  exoiu^   ii.   ifie 
boxae  dEor  al  -she  jbb:  ^<  kuim  utt:^ 
mud.  iifK::fd:i^i8tiiudn4g  mie  iiac   biieb 
no  gRsfC  iapnBXKi.  libenr  hL  -ttpok  bar 
pact  agoinsi  ine  iandiurcl :  and  3usk^ 
ing.  jtB&mpf:  tmokust  we  k«pt  mtm;  ii^ 
DDZHebrea.  ^^an  we  wexe  iiie  jarm^ffomj 
and  -sbicr  lie  boid  -nxrued  our  Mng^ 
MuL  af  ^^iiej   cabec    tMfL   tt    naubt 
looit  ior  i&.  TijguTtKfci    nt    inm.    iist 
feat  wnl  dusajnmnftniDi^     Tut  ii;':it 
Ci?tf   wuiiic   muke   ci^tnoMPstr    a'    me. 
and  i:nt  bigg^  gCit   wtniit  i»uL  mj 
hair,  avay  ncDr  ia<;»;.  auL  ♦sv^n.  %j':»simtu\^ 
aty  pudii  me  uitwn  maiffc   t^tui^    tu*: 
bcm:  macte  tueiximiVJ^  far  imn*    *»*?-rr*- 
bie  It  mr  ev«t       liir  rnnu*:    t^ztsmtt 
bapT#«ijmg  tt    i/e    ttn/i/i#*ft    t/u*     (li*; 
vhiiiL  ied  -ii*-  iaiidii/rt  u   uw:{a;ii    i.I 
jirerrioii*-  £:u(»Wi*ra^t  a*  ur    ".miij:!    »/*  - 
gai.  U'  gn»v"  i«r:v*jt      i^^ut  :iii.    u    uKf 
bj  ttL»j"  meaiifr  tnie   t/  in*   fvu^/»'    jraflr 
of  Loiiuuu      I  <nnu(    UMi*    ..YL'     Wa: 
toi.  It  tiuui**5i-  XI.  :ii»  il-^irt:  J-^iiC,    ^'iiHC»- 
tbe  mauu*?T^  art    Uia»i«f«jrn/at)i*;       Wt: 
are  al   *^aruiii^'  our  ur»^t  u^xk.    buHi*; 
bavt  aL  (i';'r*fcrtiaiia   atiu^iic  u*  <irunk*iu 
nesffc    auL    iclit    auuui :   uu*     ':ii*-/   ait 
81'ji;  o'  It  aphiL  ttlujf  u  Willi*       J    i-*;- 
meuiiMir  aakiug  b  woiuau  uu».*    i1   li»>r 
buHuand  wuuid  be  ytvk^ui  at  a  littW 
euwrtaiumeut  to   wbicb   X^Ki/  JtlHtc- 


304 


The  Vicar '9  Daughter, 


narJ  had  invited  tbem :  she  answered 
that  be  would  be  there  if  he  was 
drank,    but    if    he    waa     sober    he 

couMn*t  spare  the  time. 

**  Very  soon  they  began  to  ask  me 
after  Mrs.  Conan  ;  and  one  day  I  in- 
vited one  of  them,  who  seemed  a  de- 
cent though  not  very  tidy  woman,  to 
walk  np  and  see  her ;  for  I  was  anx- 
ious *the  shonld  have  a  visitor  now 
and  then  when  I  was  out,  as  she 
complaiuol  a  got>d  deal  of  the  loneli- 
ness. The  woman  consented,  and 
ever  after  waa  very  kind  to  her.  But 
my  main  stay  and  comfort  wa3  an  olvl 
woman  who  then  oecupied  the  room 
opposite  to  this.  Slie  was  such  a 
good  creature  !  Nearly  blind,  she  yet 
kept  her  room  the  very  pink  of  neat- 
ness. I  never  saw  a  speck  of  dust  on 
that  chest  of  drawer?,  which  was  hers 
then,  and  which  she  valued  far  more 
than  many  a  rich  man  values  the 
house  of  his  ancestors,  —  not  only  be- 
cause it  had  been  her  mother's,  but  be- 
cause it  bore  testimony  to  the  respect- 
ability of  her  fiimily.  Her  floor  and 
her  little  muslin  window-curtain,  her 
bed  and  every  tiling  about  her,  were 
as  clean  as  lady  could  desire.  She 
objected  to  move  into  a  better  room 
below,  which  the  landlord  kindly  of- 
fered her,  — for  she  was  a  favorite 
from  having  been  his  tenant  a  long 
time  and  never  having  given  him  any 
trouble  in  collecting  her  rent,  —  on 
the  ground  that  there  were  two  win- 
dow ji  in  it,  aniJ  therefore  too  much 
light  for  her  bits  of  furniture.  They 
would,  she  said,  look  nothing  in  that 
room.  She  was  very  pleaserl  when  I 
asked  her  to  pay  a  visit  to  Mrs. 
Conan ;  and  as  she  belonged  to  a  far 
higher  intellectual  grade  than  my 
protectress,  and  as  she  had  a  strong 
practical  sense  of  religion,  chiefly 
manifested  in  a  willing  acceptance  of 
the  de^iees   of  Providence,  I   think 


she  did  us  both  good.  I  winh 
draw  you  a  picture  of  her  coa 
at  that  door,  with  her  all  but 
less  eyes,  the  broad  border* 
white  cap  waving,  and  her 
stretched  out  before  her;  1 
was  more  apprehensive  than 
had  been  quite  blind,  becai 
could  see  thing9  without  \ 
what,  or  even  in  wb  • 

were.     The  most  rem  1 

me  w^as  the  calmness  witii  wh 
looked   forward   to   her   appr 
death,  althoagh  without  the  1 
tion  which  so  many  good  pea 
to  have  in  connection  with 
parture.     I    talked   to    her  1 
more  than  once,  —  not  with  \ 
sumption  of  teaching  her,  fi 
she  was  far  before  me,  but  jui 
out  how  she   felt   and  what 
lieved.     Her    answer    amoq 
this,  that  she  had  never  kn 
forehand  what   lay    round   t 
corner,  or  what  was  going  to 
to  her,  fur  if  Providence  hu 
her  to  know,  it  could  not  be  I 
to    fortune-tellers,    as    some 
neighbors  did;  but  that  afaf 
found  things  turn  out  right  m 
for  her,  and  she  did  not  dd 
would  find  it  so  when  she  cad 
last  turn. 

**  By  degrees  I  knew  evei] 
the  house,  and  of  course  I  wl 
to  do  what  I  could  to  help 
them.  I  had  much  to  lift  m 
higher  region  of  mental  co 
was  open  to  them;  for  I  h 
and  Lady  Bernard  lent  me 

**  Of  course  also  I  kept 
as  clean  find  tidy  as  I  could ; 
deodj  if  I  had  been  more  ca«?I 
dined  in  that  way,  the  sigh 
bUnd  woman's  would  have 
constant  reminder  to  me< 
grees  also  I  was  able  to  g< 
more  articles  of  fumituno  fo: 


The  Vicar's  Daughter. 


305 


down 


to  be  called  gmiaie  bj 

tkkB  iKKi«e.     Ereo  Mm 

I    anfrequenU/   ad- 

«ad  speak  of  me   toOf  wm 

at   first  wtlli  A  l^OfH,    boi 

oisltcr  of  eoona 

i  hj  Slid  bj  s  few  popOs 

timdeipe0ple    of     a    cUm 

9  tluit  III  which  I 


to  tMchy  and  fipom  whom  I 
mad  ohtmtn  doable  mj  for- 
grew,  with 
L«d/ 


eaJ  gnoe.  I  aboold  ba;re  been  Tety 
socTj'  to  mmke  it  a  rsnditirfwi  with 
tliQse  I  mrmd,  that  tlwf  iKooH  sti 
itiU:  to  take  fam  ths»«  ibetr  petioiial 
sham  ia  tt  woald  have  been  to  davtroj 
half  the  dkana  of  the  thing.  A  lar 
sot  is  needful  befi:we 
can  be  einoinid  ia  tfp>#f^  aad 
The  oaljr  eonditaoa 


*k:^.«. 


r;«r. 


•o  th^ 

aiMitinoc4  a  iroe  friend  to 
I  dbie  aefVer  was  other  than 


th» 


Sotna  of  her  fiiendd 


oj|»cnineQ 


T«Il- 

t  whether  I 


Aair  children:  and  it  is 


306 


The  Vicar's  Daughter. 


tion  gathered  weight.  After  a  while^ 
guide rl  by  wliat  some  of  the  children 
let  fall,  I  began  to  invite  the  mothers 
to  join  them  ;  and  at  length  it  came  to 
be  understood  that,  every  Saturday 
evening,  whenever  chose  to  make 
herself  tidy  would  be  welcome  to 
an  bonr  or  two  of  my  muaic.  Some 
of  the  husbands  next  began  to  come, 
but  there  were  never  so  many  of 
them  present.  I  may  just  add,  that 
although  the  manners  of  some  of  my 
audience  would  be  very  shocking  to 
cultivated  people,  and  I  understand 
perfectly  how  they  must  be  so,  I  am 
very  rarely  annoyed  on  such  occa- 
sions. 

**  I  must  now  glance  at  another 
point  in  my  history,  one  on  which  I 
cannot  dwell.  Never  since  my  fa- 
ther's death  had  I  attended  public  wor- 
ship. Nothing  had  drawn  me  thither ; 
and  I  hardly  know  what  induced  me 
one  evening  to  step  into  a  chapel  of 
which  I  knew  nothing.  There  was 
not  even  Sunday  to  account  for  it  I 
believe,  however,  it  had  to  do  with 
this,  that  all  day  I  had  been  fc4?ling 
tired.  I  think  people  are  often  ready 
to  suppose  that  their  bodily  condition 
is  the  cause  of  their  spiritual  discom- 
fort, when  it  may  be  only  the  occasion 
upon  which  some  inward  lack  rev^eals 
itself.  That  the  spiritual  nature 
should  be  incapable  of  meeting  and 
sustaining  the  body  in  its  troubles  is 
of  itself  sufficient  to  show  that  it  is 
not  in  a  aatisfactory  condition.  For 
a  long  time  the  struggle  for  mere  ex- 
istence had  almost  absorbed  my  ener- 
gies ;  but  things  had  been  easier  for 
some  time,  and  a  reaction  had  at 
length  come.  It  was  not  that  I  could 
lay  any  thing  defitiito  to  my  own 
charge  ;  I  only  felt  empty  all  through  ; 
I  felt  that  something  wiis  not  right 
with  me,  that  something  was  required 
of  me  which  I  was  not  rendering.     I 


conld  not,  however,  have  toW 
it  was.  Possibly  the  feeling 
for  some  time  growing;  bat 
so  far  as  I  can  tell,  I  was  fii 
of  it ;  and  I  presume  it  was 
cause  of  ray  turning  at  the 
a  few  singing  voices,  and 
that  chapel,  I  found  about 
people  present.  SomethiO; 
air  of  the  place,  meagre  and 
it  looked,  yet  induced  me  t<l 
An  address  followed  from 
faced,  weak-looking  man  i 
age»  who  had  no  gift  of  pera 
or  utterance,  to  recommend 
said.  But  there  dwelt  a  mot 
ful  enforcement  in  bim  th* 
those,  —  that  of  earnestness 
again,  and  again ;  and  slowly, 
well  explain  how,  the  seni 
and  its  majesty  grew  upon  ; 
Walton  will,  I  trust,  undeit 
when  I  say,  that  to  one  b 
for  bread,  it  is  of  little  ooi 
in  what  sort  of  platter  it  ; 
him.  This  was  a  dissenting! 
of  what  order,  it  was  long 
knew, — and  my  predilecttd 
the  Church -nerv  ices,  those 
my  father  had  accustomed 
any  comparison  of  the 
prejudice  of  either^  I  shoi 
although  a  communicant 
Chnrch  of  England  — 
solute  indifferenco. 

''It  willhesuflSeient  for 
purpose  to  allude  to  the  om 
thought  which  was  the  m« 
gathered  from  this  good  m;l 
fruit  by  which  I  know  th( 
good.*  It  waa  this,  —  that 
labor  of  God,  as  my  te^ac 
was  to  bring  sons  into  gloi 
them  out  of  the  abyss  of  evi 
up  to  the  rock  of  his  pure 

1  Somethtag  like  tUlu  Is  iHp  tnl«rpr«i| 
word:  "  «y  their  friilU  y^  sUalt  ^ 
Iff  ven  by  Mr.  Mdiirtce,  —  an  laterpr^ 
opcnfl  rnach.  —  G,  U.  D^ 


lit  Tm 


m: 


■1  «f  lEfr  mntt  B» 
rofker  viA  GaiL  \li|gftn  JL 
V  ud  !«»■•>«  «f iBgrlbAflDr?' 
Be.    Bit  I  mKBoft  M^tn. 

I  J  aftv  IMK  OMT  mi  TMO^ 

eikodcfldUr.    MjttBu&Br 

i  not  to  tell  ikn  tABB*  cflotftjr^ 
ftokmcrHm 


tfinyiiinf'"  tnuB  luuw  oBsmt  tzi-  mi:  wiiJL 

TIT,  tn/s*  oflinip  Qinvr^  ttiflECMoii' 
in*  xoB-  ffar  Hfii^  ami:  tfie- 
<z&SnHb   ffiB*   tbM&mp;:    tfiac    wfis^ 
UDt  fe  sBamShf  mmniff  wa  ttta- 

^   tfiall    I    BblUiP    JHIUBB.    4f 

anfl  I  joK  ill  t&>  fiflar  nABtfieae^  iffll  mass- 


I  ma  toflK^tfcattl 

D616  1  flfli;*     X  wmipiij' 

lied.  Tbem  hj  fefwiifa. 
wIkmb  Ladj  BcsnaiD^  aai£ 
per  lunv  crwr  Ikeeni  £ss4L  c^x-' 
i  to  remorfr  to  lodj^xoi;^  ex 
ngfaboriiood.  Imiiotd^  ha^fy 
ftme  to  wmt  wbi^  misd  nad  i&it 
icneif  tiie  platt  iv  aub. 
told  her  I  dkodid  mmacL 
rwt,  she  was  siksfty  azki  Mwii 
*I  tiMMi^ht  ^ifflsonML  J. 
her  mt  oneer  ezplaEBiiBg:  w&y^ 
ij  put  bere;  aaftjiat^  «&a£  I 
Imfdl J  aker  azt j  ttbca^  ti&OiC 
le:  ihaHlhrnA 


^I  Bam-  a  HmTTmig:  < 

11»1fl» 
^Bmsdv^fe  ^aAttnu — I  nvnlUl  mrit  Bi^ 
saagiWMiii  tBi  ^mcsy  fEwrir  wit&  prat  I 
mnHo^  ^lEink    if  whiac  i&«y  <faiE  t^ 

Biimft  la  t^  ^fUfioL  ifGtyL  -mhsat  aiiMitt- 

whm  ILaitf  B<«Bia(Drjl  Bxw  Wul  TAtoA 

ami  m^  2S3aiiit&iZti3«m :  ha  I  Bcux't 
tta£  ttufiii;^  'jii  ^TE^iae:^  h't*w  is  itfr  nBa£ 

I  ikar  I  Banni  b*»fixi   xtlL::/  '^j^T   m.'Sitriii 

itiilia^  wiso.  t.»  IHisdW  Raf«T«u    Bat 


308 


Head  I  Wm^  Tail  You  Lose, 


HEAD  I  WD^,  TAIL   YOU  LOSE. 


Dear  Mr.  Editor, —  I  send  you 
the  enclosed  storj,  th talcing  it  may 
be  of  use  to  you  in  reformiug  the 
reading  habits  of  the  present  genera- 
tion. It  is  a  little  snare  I  laid  for 
my  wife  and  daughter  in  the  shape 
of  a  story  which  I  sent  to  "  The  Even- 
ing Drop-Light,"  a  daily  paper  which 
they  —  wife  and  daughter — read 
every  night, 

I  had  suspected  them,  as  well  as 
the  rest  of  the  present  generation,  of 
a  y*>ty  superficial  method  of  reading. 
They  always  turn  over  to  the  last 
page  to  see  how  a  story  ia  to  come  out, 
look  along  the  tops  of  sentences,  pick 
out  a  passage  here  and  there,  and 
get  a  smattering  of  tlio  subject  before 
they  read  any  further ;  perhaps  con- 
tent themselves  with  this. 

You  will  observe,  then,  that  I  wrote 
my  little  tale  with  design,  making 
the  beginnings  of  my  paragraphs  ccm- 
tradict  the  ends,  and  misleading  the 
reader  with  my  closing  sentence. 

The  result  was  more  than  satisfac- 
[,ioiy.  On  returning  to  the  parlor  at 
the  end  of  the  evening  from  my 
library,  where  I  had  been  working  up 
a  new  theory  on  the  Scandinavian 
language,  for  "  The  Borrioboola  Gha 
Journal"  (with  which  I  am  correspond- 
ing), I  found  my  wife  and  daughter 
actually  about  to  fling  shovels  and 
tonga  at  each  other  in  the  height  of 
a  quarrel.  I  inquired  the  cause,  and 
found  it  to  be  the  dSnoument  of  a 
Btory  in  "The  Evening  Drop-Light," 
Maria  insisting  that  the  heroine,  Juli- 
ana Mowbray,  had  married  Zephaniah 
Tubbs,  and  my  wife  as  firm  that  she 
had  married  Marmaduke  Dalrymple. 

"  Wliy  did  not  they  refer  to  the 
tiewspai>er  ?  "  I  asked. 

It  seemed  that  the  paper  was  al- 


ready burned  up.     Jemima  1 
up  for  a  waste  paper  just  an  mj 
had  finished  reading  "The  E? 
Drop-Light,**  and  she  hatl  give 
Jemima  to  save  looking  for  ano 

[Jfeftt.  I  was  secretly  plea 
lesaon  to  wife  and  daughterJ 
there's  some  use  in  aaving  the  J 
pa[>ers.] 

I  was  able  to  take  another  i 
the  paper  from  my  pocket, 
provided  myself  Mfith  a  duplic 
read  aloud'  the  story,  silently  l«f 
tlte  moral  lesson  to  strike  ho 
their  hearts. 

I  discovered  from  this  little  j 
that  ray  wife  was  in  the  habit  ( 
reading  the  ends  of  sentences,  i 
daughter  the  beginning;    both! 
ing  at  the  wind-up. 

For  such  superticial  sketches  i 
one  I  enclose,  this,  perhaps,  is  j 
sufficient  attention  to  give ;  bat| 
sorry  to  see  that  such  is  the  prev 
method  of  reading  every  thing  i 
helter-skelter  days.     Even  in  m ) 
ary  paper  the  other  day,  the  orid 
an  article   in   another  journal,] 
complaining  of  a  mistake   ma 
the  writer,  is  forced  to  add  a  Pj 
confess  that  on  reading  throug 
whole  of  the  sentence  objected 
finds  the  writer  had  mada  ooi 
mistake. 

If,  then,  Mr.  Editor^  you 
unite  with  me  for  a  while,  in 
in  such  a  manner  that  the 
should  find  that  to  read  an  arti( 
order  to  understand  it,  it  is 
understand  it^  not  to  pass  ov 
we  may  have  done  somet 
reform. 

THE  CONCEALED  AJ>DBB. 

Juliana  Mowbray  decided  to  i 
Zephaniah  Tubbs,      Them 


Bead  I  Win,  Taii  Tom  LoM.     » 


309 


him,  to  be  soxe;  aoil  it 
EnUe  C&oagjbltostiikaMov- 
Tubbs.  And  there  wms  no 
ila  ir«j  of  abotteiuiig  bis 
tbeie  wv  nothing  endear- 
i^h,  Kod  It  wais  a  bateiiil 
to  write.  Of  coarse 
wiQ  SQppoie  that  she  took 
eoOQJit  of  hie  money,  as  that 
ij  IB  noreU.  Bot  we  must 
iMt  Zeph^mialrs  {K>!?itioQ  was 
pfomtsing  than  that  of  bis 
Innadiike  Dilrymple.  And 
be  stated,  that^  iii  this 
yre  have  leas  opportuDity  for 
db  eonMvuznce  than  in  an 
tj^  Because  with  us  there 
iffieultj  in  deciding  which  is 
mrtif  which  the  likely  young 
yocmg  clerk,  who  ia  begin- 
awieeping.out  his  master^a 
joiiie  as  likely  to  be  the  mil- 
ia  th^  ocNUse  of  a  lew  jeai% 
g  mustachioed  gentleajui 
ilsaad  ciiafis  him.  It  waa 
tipieatkMi  of  exterior  digi* 
t  had  iiiada  Jnfiaoa  hmi^ 
dioice;  bol  wliich  fii  i^ 
toUiabait,— deu^oU 
or  atlimciHctp 


and  tbero  wns  a  oartain  bon«H»ty  ia 
bis  tliiOaghta  and  «x{w«asii>us  that 
mada  lier  feel  that  ber^  waa  a  man 
to  lean  upon.  And  even  a  young 
girl  caa  a^raowledge  the  charm  of 
aineerity^  and  recogniM  tli  t* 

that  accompanies    it      M^  *« 

approached  h(*r  tliden'ntly,  stui  tho 
charm  he  hM  ovor  linr  wan  from  tho 
very  contrast.  She  could  not  rond 
him  thoroughly,  mo  hu  imiHmi'i]  iijkiU 
her.  Sonietiinc'ii  who  Imli^'Vinl  ulie 
hated  him ;  but  th»t  wtm  whitii  she 
thought  him  in  love  with  h«fr  I'ttiiain 
Agnes.  But  whuu  to-day  h«  vnmn 
to  tell  her  of  the  attikck  of  ttpfipiriy 
that  hiul  proist rated  his  futhn^r^  in  *^fitt' 
aequence  of  seTsro'  peeuniary  loiiset  f 
that  it  was  neoestary  that  ^  -  '-'^^-f 
ahoald  leave  the  country  •  I  r 

dbaage  of  aeeQey  and  that  Im^  AUf' 
nadoka  must  mccomimuf  Ua^  aa4 
tlial  ha  Bieant  to  latum  noA  wia  a 
aaoi^  bat  thai  ha  nmM  imw  kra  Vf 
glta  tea  tha  imaiigPi  iJii  mMw4  $m^ 
hmUlABmrni 


TWi 


i  0it  ZiflMafkib  #iM  ffcaf 
«i  tf  lia  #aiw  4b«f^ 


aaw«^  ;ia  ap««;ii«  i 

y  WkMHIJI*   Pa* 

ffvnil 

IW  aai4J  ll»  Ikn. 


i 


310 


Head  I  Win,  Tail  Ton  Loae. 


ing  only  the   close.  —  Edit&r  *'  Old 

When  Juliana lieard  of  ZepliaDiah's 
loss  of  fortune  she  hastened  to  hb 
mother's  to  offer  her  sympathy.  It 
was  all  too  true.  The  whole  Tubbs 
family  were  wrecked  in  one  common 
disaster.  "Angel/'  said  Zophaniah, 
when  ho  saw  Juliana,  "  I  knew  that 
you  would  not  forsake  us ;  although 
books  tell  us  that  with  fortune,  friends 
flee  from  us."  "  Ko/^  said  Juliana ; 
"  my  Jove  you  may  always  dopend 
upon/*  She  might  have  added  that 
romancers  make  a  great  mistake  when 
they  make  out  that  with  loss  of  for- 
tune one  loses  all  one's  friends.  It 
is  then,  most  frequently,  that  one  finds 
them.  But  Juliana  did  liot  stop  to 
philosophize;  she  only  mentioned  her 
secret  marriage  to  Marmailuko  Dal- 
rymple,  jilso  that  in  England  he  had  dis- 
covered he  was  an  heir  to  an  imtnense 
estate,  and  that  one  of  his  tirat  objects 
in  life  would  be  to  set  the  family  of 
Tubbs  upon  their  proper  bases. 

It  was  now  that  Zephaniah's  tem- 
per shone  out  with  its  own  lustre.  It 
shows  a  heart  of  true  metal  to  be 
able  to  receive  well.  It  is  easy  enough 
to  dispense  favors,  but  it  seems  deroga- 
tory to  accept  Ihora,  and  harder  still 
for  a  man  to  take  them  from  a  woman. 
We  read  of  King  Cophetna  and  the 
beggar  maid,  but  are  not  so  well 
pleased  when  a  queen  stoops  to  many 


her  boot-black.  Kot, 
Zcphaniab  was  a  boot- black,  I 
Jaliaua  a  queen.  Shecoutdtl 
teU  liim  that  slie  had  married  i 
But  then  she  had  married  a  Moii 
in  becoming  the  bride  of  Dal^ 

Happy  was  JuHana^s  fathei 
able  to  present  Iiis  daughtec 
friends  as  the  bride  of  a  man 
of  hen  He  gave  a  magnificei 
to  celebrate  her  marriage,  a 
were  present  the  five  brother 
interesting  history  we  have 
[in  the  omitted  passage, —  Ei 
their  five  brides.  The  dreri 
magnificent ;  and  each  bride 
companied  with  ten  bridesma 
milking  sixty  brides  and  brid< 
The  brides  and  two  of  the  ma 
white;  so  the  rest  of  the  bridj 
fifty-six,  could  divide  the  o 
the  rainbow  between  them.: 
violet,  seven  indtgo,  seven  bl« 
green,  seven  yellow,  seven 
seven  red ;  and  in  the 
dance  they  became  03 
solar  ray. 

RS/to  the  Editor.  El 
such  a  trap  for  readers,  let  m 
you  to  tuck  a  bit  of  morality 
middle  of  each  sentence, 
ways  skipped,  and  makes  a 
for  one  who  only  reads 
sentences  to  begin  at. 
Yours, 
Pat: 


&n^l 


J&e  laskrmaiiumal 


mi 


SET  -C.  JL  mZKXiAJL 


itasstiaBiI  AsocistiaD  of 
QMS  ksA  iBteilj  ^nished  1^ 
reir  of  its  «xiBtxaioe.  In 
en  yens  it  lutt  effiacted  an 
on    in    EikglKod,    Fismoe, 

Hfiiland,  GermftnT,  Xtahr, 
d  finaSj  in  the  United 
It  lias  beld  fire  intenun 
greases,  and  liss  recndted  a 
dhermtB  BO  immeniie,  tkst 
s  reject  ms  exaggerated  1^ 
>f  seven  ndHioms  wliich  is 
ome,  tiie  power  of  the  noasfi 

tbe  appreli^iQosis  of  crp- 
nd  stimulate  Iht  ooinEcleBoe 
ers,  makes  it  \  matter  of 
eqnence  vbetber  the  aggre- 

few  millions  moie  or  less. 
>aglit  once  more  into  1^ 
iscassion,  and  tliis  time  in 

alarming  form,  social  qnes- 
h  most  men  believed,  and 
oped,  were  settled  forerer. 
icioos  use  of  the  material 
dstrial  and  political  agita- 
ipplied  in  profusion,  it  has 
to  influence  profoundly  the 
le  laboring  population  upon 
lent,  and  to  some  extent  in 

and  even  if  its  name  were 
dj    indissolublj    connected 

most    startling    historical 

the  last  year,  it  has  in 
I  reached  a  position  which 

hat  this  singular  organ iza- 

become  one  of  the  most 
influences   in   shaping   the 

the  last  third  of  this  cen- 
?  say  that  this  is  possible, 
^n  certain,  because,  as  we 
-ntly  see,  the  International 
)W8  itself  subject  to  inflrmi- 
may  in  the  end  not  only 
ofloenoe^  bat  cut  short  its 


Tlie  ^Bzm  uf  ^le  firgrifiBfcian  is 
igipttiently  tD  be  dbnnd  in  a  Tisit  made 
in  1B62  by  a  delefnc^iui^  of  P-Tench 
wm^nnen  to  the  TTjiivesBakl  S^^iihician 
in  Xiondan.  Thifc  dislfigKLian  tisrelkid 
under  the  aanctian,  if  luit  at  the 
fihargti,  of  the  mQiecuikl  gimwrumfftrf  ^ 
but  it  is  worth  nonicnig,  thiit  the  Izfiem- 
sighted  pcrefect  of  poiioe  aaanred  the 
delegates  that  nothing  short  of  the 
enijKsrar  s  own  dnection  induced  bim 
tf>  countenance  the  psooeeding.  The 
ac^uaintanoes  farmed  in  Xiondan,  and 
li^  cocrespandence  which  followed, 
led  to  a  second  meeting  in  ld6S,  for 
wldcii  the  imperial  Banctaon  was  not 
i^oerred  nor  asked ;  nor  was  it  needed. 
The  plan  of  inteTxiati0nal  comHiialaan 
had  taken  form ;  and  in  1^  wards  of 
one  of  the  earliest  actocs  in  -^e 
matter,  '^' There  was  no  time  to  or- 
ganize ;  but  the  idea  was  tirown  out, 
and  it  would  already  have  l>eeaa  diffi- 
cult to  prevent  its  development.*^ 
After  another  year  of  preliminaiy 
action,  a  meetiDg  was  finally  held  in 
St.  Martin's  Hall  in  London  on  the 
2Sth  of  September,  18G4,  at  which 
the  Association  was  fairly  launched, 
with  substantially  the  same  organiza- 
tion which  it  now  has. 

It  is  important  to  observe,  that  no 
political  influence  appears  to  have 
prompted  this  combination.  Both 
the  French  and  the  English  founders 
of  the  Association  were  no  doubt 
strongly  democratic  in  their  political 
notions,  —  George  Odger  was  among 
the  English  founders,  and  among  the 
French  was  Tolain,  a  Parisiau  me- 
chanic, and  a  member  of  the  Left  in 
the  National  Assembly  last  year, — 
but  politics  was  not  the  subject  then 
uppermost  in  their  minds.  Between 
them  and  the  Leicester   Square  col- 


312 


The  International 


ony  of  political  exiles,  there  was,  in 
fact,  from  the  start,  a  certain  coolness. 
The  exiles  wert,  after  all,  boui^eois  in 
the  eyea  of  tho  French  members  of  tbe 
International,  and  neither  had  nor  de- 
sired a  share  in  a  movement  of  which 
the  object  was  **  the  emancipation  of 
laboring-mGn,"  and  not  the  intei-eats 
of  Jucohinism  ;  while,  on  the  other 
hand,  the  French  founders  of  the  As- 
^tiociation  were  long  distrusted  by  the 

Bpicious  repubhcans,  and  charged 
with  Bonapartist  leanings.  What 
else  could  men  expect,  who  professed 
to  represent  the  toiling  masses,  and  to 
be  republicans,  and  who,  nevertheless, 
stood  aloof  from  political  conspiracy  ? 

The  form  of  organization  adopted 
by  the  St.  Marti u's  Hall  meeting  is 
simple  hut  efficient.  The  business 
of  the  Association  is  managed  by  a 
general  council,  which  from  the  tirst 
has  had  its  seat  in  London.  This 
council,  with  the  aid  of  secretaries 
for  the  different  languages,  conducts 
the  correspondence  with  tlie  various 
branches  of  the  Assrxnation,  watches 
all  events  which  affect  the  common 
interest,  sliapesthe  business  to  belaid 
before  the  annual  congress,  cuUects 
and  gives  information^  and  in  every 
way  acts  as  the  living  bond  of  union 
between  the  organized  working-men  of 
different  countries.  It  lias  now  no  pres- 
ident J  a  solemn  vote  having  decided 
in  1868  that  such  an  office  is  moh- 
archical  in  its  nature,  even  though 
it  be  purely  honorary,  and  divested 
of  all  power.  The  council  is  ap- 
pointed by  a  congress  of  delegates 
from  all  the  branches  of  the  Inter- 
national, and  is  therefore  nominally 
the  agent  of  a  quasi  legislative  body, 
which  in  its  turn  represents  the  general 
will  of  the  mass.  The  congress  itself 
must  be  a  pictui^esque  assemblage, 
drawn  as  it  is  from  many  nations,  and 
transacting    its    business    in    three 


languages  at  once.     The  comj 
of  the  mass  represented  by  it  is  i 
ciently  complex.     In   ©Tery   oou 
where  the  International  has  a 
hold,  there  is,  as  a  rule,  a  central  f«i 
council,  under  which  are  arranged 
due  subordination  the  branche««( 
tions,  and  local  groups  in: 
great  body  is  divided-     L 
cles  in  some   countries  rei|mr« 
abandonment   of  a  part   of  thii 
chinery  j  while,  on  the  other  Iwo  J,  1 
singularly  elastic  arrange  men  tp  t 
unions  and  other   sitndar   *-6oci<l 
of  resistance  '■  may  be  affiliated  - 
the  International  without  lotting  I 
own  organization,  or  cett&in^  to 
trol  their  own  affairs*     It  is  to 
concession    that  the  movemiuit 
much  of  its  success  in  obtaining  | 
adhesion  of  trades-unionists  in 
land.    It  must  be  added,  that  tho  i 
placed  at  the  disposition  of  the  ge u 
council  are  upon  a  modest  scaW,  1 
annual  payment  for  this  parpoieJ 
each  member  of  the  Internatioiiill 
ing  dxed  at  about  two  cent^,  the  c 
tion  of  wbich  a^^pears  to  be  sllglj 
irregular.      In  some  cases,  hown^ 
considerable  sums  have   beeo 
hy  contribution   for  special  par 
although  the  amount  thus  cxp 
has   no  doiibt  been  grossly  eji 
ated.      Thirty   or   forty   new^p 
in  Europe,  and  several  in  the  Un 
States,  support    and    propagati^ 
principles  of  the  Association. 

The  International,  however,  ta  : 
a  secret  society,  as  the  term  is  um 
understood.     The   regulations   ^l^ 
the  secret  organization  of  any  gecci 
even  in  countries  where  the  gov 
ment  is  actively  hostile ;  there 
parently  no  passwords  or  other 
ilar  contrivances  j  the  jiroceedin^ 
tho  annual  congresses  are  public^! 
their  formal  action  is   gi\^n   U>1 
world  in  print.    Indeed,  tho  ma 


Th€ 


oTIte 
tlii^  deof  mfi 
Thai 
,hov- 
wltat  k  given 
u^  cBoteno  Bcngmes 
inevitable  in  an 
of  m  ?»Bt  mad 
0M^  astiagpd  VjT  a  oom- 
^  oC  aUe  leaders.  lo* 
id  in  %  fesolatioa  adopted 
Uenoe  lield  in  LoBdoa  in 
\mk,  a  direct  re&rence  to 
ioiotioas  not  intended  for 
bat  inespectiYe  of  tiiese, 
cir  may  not  be  impodtantf 
»  IMntUe  that  4e  mana- 
not  hare  plaits  «if  actaoo 
htxr  foIJawefS  are  initiated 


aoQ  jnaj   re<}iiire, 


and 


r  pfActkmllf  ^m  teQiire 

Et&em  to  mature  at 
tlie  purpose  of  tbU 

I  ?     To  answer  tliis  qu  ed- 
it trace  the  history  of  the 

II  a  tittle  in  detail,  and 
Isvdopcnent  from  the  St. 

eting  until  the  pres- 
in^juiry  will  &how  us 
I  leaaty  of  the  founders 
their  work  prr>ducd 
Iroit  from  that  which 
led;  and  tha^  like  thou- 
bemcia  before,  they  have 
jer  to  aioase  popular  forces 
tlwn  toeontrol  them  aft«r- 

Blea  &an»od  in  1854,  and 
^dacbu^  that  the  Associa- 
M  in  order  '*to  procure 
am  of  oommunication 
be  tween  work  i  n  g- 
existing  in  different 
ag  to  the  same  end ; 


tte  t0aee«C  an  , 

I  t&attiieiri 
tt  it  nol  m  leeal  or 
pnibleni,   bat  oonoeina   aQ 
natiojMt ;  and  tiiat  tb^  effSar 
difeetmi  ought  not  to  tend  to 
estafaJiflliHiiBt  rf  daea  pcnrOagWy  1 
to  aecmo  ^be  sune  li^^  and 
ibr  aD.     The  omnicil  it  Rqaued 
unite,   if  pQastblQ,  in  eveij  eonntrf, 
all  exiatftg  eocieties  <^  wotking^Ben 
into  a  nafifltta]  eociety,  sabjeet  al  vaj 
to  the  lawa  goTeming  the 
But  nothing  appeua  in  the  alatnlaa] 
or  reguiaiioiia  then  adopted,  k»oldng| 
towaidi  a  ^atematic  organisatioo  of 
labor  against  capital,  and   sCiU  less 
towards  the  forcible  orertum  of  exists 
ing  society.     The  founders  were  thor- 
oughly imboed  with  the  notion  that 
capital  now  holds  labor  in  suhjectioUi 
and  probably  they  all  inclined  towards 
socialistic  arrangements  of  some  9ort. 
They  do  not  seem,  however,  to  have 
proposed  to  themselves  any  definite 
remedy,  nor  eren  to  have  undertaken 
a  war  upon  the  evO.     **We  wish,^' 
said  the  secretaries  of  the  organiza- 
tion in  Paris,  **  to  found  an  association 
which,  by  study,  may  bring  on  by 
degrees  the  emancipation  of  labor," 
Especially  was   all   idea  of  poiiticol 
action  repelled-     "  It  is  a  society  for 
study,  and  not  a  new  Carbonariy^  — 
s^id  Fribourg,  one  of  the  orators  of 
the  International  in  I860,  and  uioro 
recently  one  of  its  historians.     Tills 
conception  of  an  association  for  pur- 
poses of  study,  to  include  the  consoli- 
dated   trades-unions    of    Europe,   ia 
perhaps  whim.sical ;  but  we  know  of 
no  reason  to  douht  the  sincerity  of 
those  who  formed  it 
*It  is  not  surprising,  however,  that 


314 


The  Internationat 


the  mas9  of  working-mea  found  this 
scheme  culorless,  and  that  the  later- 
national  had  some  diflicalty  in  getting 
beyond  its  day  of  small  tbiogs.  Those 
to  whom  it  addressed  itself  %ver©  for 
the  most  part  violent  republicans, 
with  more  inclination  to  barriuadea 
than  to  social  science.  The  mass*  too, 
regarded  a  well-orgaoized  strike  to  be 
siipported  by  the  Association  as  the 
natural  form  of  a  practical  movement 
in  aid  of  labor ;  but  the  International 
discouraged  strikes.  ^'  Study  first,'' 
it  said  J  **8eo  if  tbe  economical  con- 
ditions of  th©  country  permit  higher 
wages,  and  whether  you  \v\ye  truth 
and  justice  with  yoo."  An  invitation 
to  the  general  study  of  political  econo- 
my, it  is  to  be  feared,  does  not  great- 
ly stimulate  the  average  working-man. 
Even  in  the  Iiiterriational  itself,  the 
English  members  appear  to  have  been 
disposed  to  favor  an  active  organiza- 
tion for  the  support  of  strikes  ;  while 
the  leading  French  members  patient- 
ly pursued  their  plan  of  inquiry, 
comparisoUj  and  study. 

The  International  Iield  its  first 
congress  in  September,  18GG,  at  Ge- 
neva. The  number  of  adherents  to 
tne  Association  was  not  yet  large ;  and 
the  congress  itself  consisted  of  only 
sixty  delegates,  of  whom  the  majority 
were  Swiss  and  French,  with  a  few 
from  England.  Eiforts  were  made 
from  the  otitsido  to  give  the  meeting 
a  political  turn,  but  without  success  j 
and  the  iirst  congress  separated  with- 
out any  marked  change  in  the  views 
or  action  of  the  Association.  Some 
light  is  tlirown,  however,  upon  the 
meaning  then  attacl\ed  to  the  phrases 
which  wo  have  quoted  above  from  the 
statutes  of  the  society,  by  a  paper 
read  before  the  congress  by  the  French 
delegation.  This  paper,  which  was 
ehiborately  prepared  by  men  who  had 
evidently  thought    muchj  bat  whoso 


culture  in  this  direction  had  gOMj 
tie  further  than  a  reailing  of  I'll 
hon,  declares    that  **  the  par|)Q 
the    International    is,    by  Kim 
means,  and  pacifically  if  poeaibl 
bring  tbe  laboring-class  to  e» 
tion,  and  to  equality  of  rights,  t 
theory  only,  but   in   practice,'* 
parenthesis  is  ominous^  but  its  J 
ity  is  not  increased  by  any  thuii 
follows*     The  reservation  of  inl 
for  the  use  of  capital  is  deirl 
immoral,  compulsory  educa 
demned,  protection  and  : 
declared  to  be  alike  untmp 
long  as  labor  is  not  free,  and  i 
are  deprecated*     As  for  the  i 
zation  of  labor,  the   p  r 
the  scheme  of  an  asso*  i 
posed  hy^  authority*     **  Capitiit| 
necessary  forprodactioQ  asl 
contended ;    **  and  die  ca 
present  conflict  Is  to  be  fouD? 
existing  relations.*' 

The  majority  of  the  con  a 
approved  this  paper,  were  tbcol 
ists  but  not  communists;  aoil,  | 
over,  were  of  that  school  of  i 
which  rests  ita  hope  opoii  foi 
contract,  and  not  upon  the  ialj 
tion  of  authority  or  force.    F< 
reason    they   rejected    a 
made  hy  the   English    dcleg«^ 
using  the  inilueuce  of  the 
to  secure  a  limitation  of  th»>  ho 
labor,   as  being  an  infraction  < 
liberty  of  contract  botwe«tu  en 
and  employed.     The  Parisian  ; 
bers,  moreover,    brought    forw^ 
future  discussion  a  project  fore 
ing  the  International  into  a  an 
co-operative  society*  in  which  pfl 
should  be  exrl 
the  members  si! 
ing  employment  in  atiy  part 
rope.     Tlie  Paris  branch  of  thi 
ciation  appears  to  have  elaboraQ| 
scheme  subsequently  so  £ir  an] 


Tie 


313     4 


■Ae  Ttadiats  ^s^ti 


wadaa  «£  mBchi 

nici   ^ 

ing    appRKtaenk 

ipu  a« 

eabk    itMbes  vf 

sse    Man 

i>J  tiM  VBVekMM 

»  nffflzi- 

rr  qiirniiom  ihmm 

WyiBt 

^bjtfaeackemi 

:iikes  vindk   #iAJiij»<i  im 

rt  of  1867,  mzid  wit^  viadi 

nembexBxvf  tfe 

Lstexxft- 

it  impoaaOife  W  sviwi  iM 

^trengthesiedt^i 

mAmemot 

viuckdeared  to  1 

nketJie 

«4^«»-;^ 

of  things  tJfte 

Id  at  TnwwTTiM^  ia  Sep- 

T;  aad  li^»  isr  ^e 

ice  in  tile 

the  &eid  mm  its  ovm. 
mctore  the 
tioQ  w«e  sot 
lad  not  been 
-as  apporend  J  lov.  The 
i3dj  was.  in  f^cL  like  to 
are.  The  congreH  had 
Lames  on  its  roil;  bet  of 
one^alf  were  Swiss,  wirdu 
ittle  new  leaven  of  Ger- 
B^gians.  A  resc^jitkiQ 
»ie  the  eongress  declarmg 


t  form,  tend  to  eres^  a 
dH  more  wretehed  e^ass. 
refbre  the  social  tnztsf or- 
ml  J  be  e&cted  m^Mj  hj 
tmg  upon  the  wboie  of 
be  biow  tkns  ai3ne<i  a: 
ad  eoHipezatrre  schemes 
Tip  by  Dr.  Paepe.  a  yjar- 
ter  of  Bnssek,  and  ap- 
tan  of  sosae  natrre  -pcmex. 
these  measvres  as  ind^d- 
iier  things,  the  oecvpatioci 
M  ecMUSott  pcopertj.  aad 
I   aholitMS  of  zights  of 

I  IS  vhaeh 


*G«Qecax«e 

one  sf  the  Swas,  -  would  he 
the  MMni.iat^  nf  T^  infirri^BsJ  :  grv^i  X 
ha|K  ts  he  wi^  dead  hetee  we  ^m  -fts 
thsBL^  •Bbl.'^  jesoeSBd  Ite.  Pae^  ^I 
wili  n0C  haiPe  tdie  sbE  ewiectirve 
paopectip'  tD-^tcffm  wisiB.  idne  esasczng 
mmfiiimiiTS  X  can.  fm}j 
eoilucUtiie  pEopestr  of  idle  land 
in  a  ^SBBiaiaiiHB:  soi3fsi7.'«r     He  :&jTind 

1^  tame,  asid  t^gnessaaa  was  Rserved 
iv  'die  nezx  cangEess.  ^esc^nsifiiia 
aese  iissijcuug  sc^ 
ior    pRidiiesaan    and    '■""'■^thJ 

as  1^  heHt  nesBH  Isr  xaisfakg 
die  I— iff  ill  II  sf  dke  ta^Qcm^-dasiL  SAd 
dm.lsjiiSgi    tdtsEt.  wkib    wsrkinj^HBseit 

hrip  each  ather  ia  defeartliBg 
due  supfwassimn  cf  die 
wa8»-sT«6em  is  a  honker  end,  whie^ 
nniBt  be  reaciM^  by  d^  stodj  «f 
eGuoaaur^  inesunzTbtf :  and  d^;  'no'St-' 
gress  adjanriMsd  wrsiaaiit:  connarntirctg 
iaeif  to  anj  nuBrtt»rti  deparsur*;  frjtxi 
die  ri#rwB  upon  wLicu  d**:  A»iiM.ruiir,i«>Q 
had  dms  far  ac^v^d.  The  lereat  ^fi^eM' 
doa.  hower-i-r-  wisafiti  engrr  •otna.h^tde 
sehetae  hlomt  ti  uaH  j  m*:^  bad  Us»:& 
pal,  arid  ir  wae  vj  be  aT**fweted  la  a 
place  aifcd  imdrer  n7en2miit:jc!^ee«  wiu^rb 
po«Bd*ed  a  ar5*!r»?irt:  sohrtknii  fr«>Ba 
d^it  rndicxsed  at  LaasaiiXke. 

of  XtaiHiaTiike.  psurtiy  fryai  njmy^rj 
aod  paarZij  to  '^rxi^  tiie  «uaipi/,'v/i;»«  <yf 
repabtican  azrtavjrii.  liad  yX^  rU 
adibe«i'/ii  v>  ttte  rerr^ati'XUfcfy  "  O/i^ 
^res«  of  Peace  aad  JJbertj,'*  whi^l-i 
wa«  HCK.lL  t;o  meet  at  Oewrra,  but  witb 
Lbe  rewf-rranon  tuat  p*ea<5e  arjd  Ji^/efty 
insist  be  k*iraL.f*d  by  the  re-^/fj^nixa-' 
tk«i  of  jM-iriety-  Il*e  0»gwjss  of  ^^tis^'A 
and  Xiibertj  met:  there  was  a  sWp 
encdoaitier    betweem    Gafibaidi    Mi4 


316 


The  Ihiemational. 


Dther  leaders,  to  the  lii gh  entertain- 
tnent  of  the  mts  of  Europe,  and  the 
ngress  broke  up  in  a  scene  of  confu- 

^lion  which  was  the  reverneof  peaceful; 
but  before  it  di§appeared  it  had  at 
least  been  able   to   fasten    a   certain 

^  {Ktlitical  character  upon  the  Interna* 
tioual,  as  a  result  of  which  the  French 
Government,  which  for  a  time  geems 
to  hare  hoped  to  turn  the  Association 
to  account  in  its  own  way,  broke  up 
tlie  open  organization  in  Paris  and 
began  a  series  of  prosecutions.  The 
trials  elicited  little  information  of  im- 
portance, and  the  penalties  inflicted 
were  light ;  but  the  power  of  the 
French  leaders  who  had  attempted  to 

p  bold  the  International  to  its  original 
scheme  was  broken,  and  the  move- 
ment which  they  had  organized 
passed  beyond  their  control. 

It  was  therefore  under  doubt  fill  au- 
spices that  the  Congress  of  Brussels 
met  in  1868,  in  an  atmosphere  sur* 
charged  with  radicalism.  Of  the  one 
hundred  members,  more  than  half 
were  Belgians ;  and  of  those  who  sur- 

ixounded  and  influenced  the  congress 
the  most  active  were  the  colony  of 
political  refugees.  The  triumph  of 
communism  was  assured  from  the 
start;  and,  in  entire  indifference  to  the 
protests  of  a  minority,  it  was  sealed 
by  the  adoption  of  resolutions  declar- 
ing that  the  soil,  the  mines^  the  forests, 
and  the  railways  in  the  re-organized 
state  must  be  common  property. 
"  These  great  i  n  strum  en  ts  of  labor 
which  exist  to-day  for  the  sole  ailvan- 
tage  of  the  capitalist,  ought  for  the  fu- 
ture to  profit  the  laborer  only.'*  The 
signiliGance  of  these  declarations  needs 
little  commentary.  Limited  in  terms 
to  real  property^  they  cover  in  princi- 
ple the  whole  ground  of  individual 
rights  ;  and  their  adoption  marked  the 
transformation  of  the  International 
ito  a  propaganda  of  communism,  in 


that  order  of  aocietj  in 
hardship   and    legitimate 
supply   the   agitator   wttli 
hopeful  material. 

Many    recruits     obt^uned 
this    basis     made    their 
at  the  congress  of  the   Inter 
held    at    Basle  in   September^ 
By  their  aid  resolutions  irerg 
declaring    tlie    ^bolitioa    of 
property,  and  systismatizing  the  I 
agement  of  its  domain  by  *'  th^ 
lectivity."     And    yet    the 
shrank  from  declaring  the 
of  the  right  of  inheritance.    ** 
had  passed  through  the  minds 
delegates  ?  "   says  Fribourg ; 
conjectures  that  they  had  not 
considered   all   the   oon^sequeQ 
their  own  doctrines.     Property  i 
abstract  could  easily  be 
existence;  **but  the  qw 
heritance  might  present   itself  j 
short  time  for  each    individun 
they  knew  precisely  what  it  mi^ 
It  was  at  this  congress  that 
nine,  a  Russian  refugee  and 
the  leaders  of  the  newly  af&liate 
munists,  uttered  a  phrase  wbni 
taken  its  place  in  the  political  i 
ulary  of  our  day.     "X  vote 
collective   possession   of    the 
particular,  and  of  all  social  wna 
general,  for  the  purpose  of  a 
liquidation.     I  demand  the  d« 
tion  of  all  states,  national  and  ^ 
torial,   and   the  foundation   on 
ruins    of  the   international 
working-men."  **  Science !  *'  exc 
another,  —  '*if  science  is  in 
diction  with  our  revolutionary  \ 
tions,  so  much  the  worse  for  i 
it  is  for  it  to  yield  before  our  | 
pies ;    but   our   principles   mu 
give  way  to  any  thing." 

In  tracing  the  principles  of  t 
temational   to   this   point,    we] 
followed  the  public    and 


,nf  tiie  •emaaai  so-   xt^tiOkd,    1W  mD  tt  lihm   Awwit>- 
l9-tk«Me«rs  parti amttiiABalMnMMMV^r 


0>ifttm  WoMatf  it 


tlK7.  m 


vIM  <ilHlM  tlM  |IM^|9  IIQf 


318 


The  Lit€r»iatio7ial 


a  compromise.  Their  adhesion  to  the 
luteniatioTial  was  accepted;  and  the 
Alliance  continued  it^  existence  until 
August,  1871,  when  it  waa  dissolved, 
and  the  '*  incident  '*  of  the  Alliance 
of  the  Socialiiit  Democracy  was  de* 
dared  by  the  London  Conference  of 
the  International  to  be  finished.  The 
Internationa]  liad  absorbed  the  Alli- 
ance, but  the  Alliance  had  given  its 
own  tinge  to  the  action  of  the  Inter- 
national for  three  eventful  years. 

It  is  sometimes  denied  by  agitators 
of  the  sentimental  class  that  anybody 
in  this  country,  at  any  rate,  is  labor- 
ing  to  bring  on  a  war  between  labor 
and  capital.  But  what  shall  we  say  of 
the  following  sentences,  taken  from  a 
letter  addressed  to  the  general  council 
by  W.  H.  Sylvia,  then  president  of  the 
Kational  Labor  Union  of  the  United 
States,  and  read  at  the  Congress  of 
Basle?  —  **  I  am  happy  to  receive 
such  kindly  words  from  our  fellow- 
working-men  across  the  water.  Our 
cause  is  a  common  one  ;  it  is  war  be- 
tween poverty  and  wealth  ....  Our 
late  war  resulted*  in  the  building  up 
of  the  most  infamous  moneyed  aristoc- 
racy on  the  face  of  the  earth.  This 
moneyed  power  is  fast  eatinj^  up  the 
substance  of  the  people.  We  have 
made  war  upon  it,  and  we  mean  to 
win.  If  we  can,  we  will  win  through 
the  ballot-box ;  if  not,  then  we  will 
resort  to  sterner  means.  A  little 
blood-letting  is  sometimes  necessary 
in  desperate  cases,-'  Mr.  Sylvis  is 
now  dead,  ^ — cut  off,  as  we  are  as- 
sured, "  in  the  zenith  of  his  fame ;  ** 
but  we  have  no  rejison  to  doubt  that 
hia  mantle  has  fallen  upon  some 
wortliy  successor.  The  United  States, 
it  must  bo  added,  have  made  but  lit- 
tle figure  in  the  public  proceedings 
of  tho  International  A  good  deal 
of  difficulty  was  found  in  opening 
communication  I  and  it  was  not  until 


the  Cong^ss  of  Basle  in  lSC9l,l 
an  American  delegate  made  hiiJ 
pe&rance,  in  tho  person  of  A.  C. 
eron,  a  Chicago  journalist.  Th«  j 
eral  council  has  long  had  a&  itsi 
tar}"  for  the  United  ? 
Eccarius,  a  German  ta 
and  one  of  the  earliest  iiied 
We  suspect,  however,  that  Cli 
who  found  himself  a  prisoner  j 
the  Parisian  leaders  in  Sainte] 
gie  in  1868,  and  soon  af^er  visici 
United  States  as  an  agent  of  th 
ternational^  had  more  to  do 
carius  in  extending  the  org 
to  this  country. 

Little  has  occurred  since 
gress  of  Basle  to  change  the 
ter  then  impressed  upon  the 
tion.     The  right  of   inheritan 
not  yet  received  its  formal  denial?! 
the  principle  of  community  of  U 
property   being   at?cept*d,    th«s 
must  fall  with  tliat  to  which 
taches.     The  conference  of  de 
which  met  in  London  in  Sep 
1871,  recommended  the  forma 
female  branches  of  the  Intcroa 
and  also  declared  that  '^*  the 
tion  of  the  working-class  into  a  | 
ical  party  is  indispensable,  in  ( 
insure  the  triumph  of  the  social  i 
olution,  and  its  ukimatia  eod,^ 
abolition   of    classes;"    bat  ia| 
case  the  conference  merely  gaf 
mal  expression  to  principles 
adopted   in   practice.      The  o» 
theory  of  the  Association,  as  a ) 
formed  for  investigation,  is  stilly 
recognized,  that  the  collection 
tistlcB  bearing  upon   the   lalwrl 
tion  h  urged  upon  the  brancii 
ev^ery  country;  but  it  may  be  doul 
whether  such  statistics  as  are 
ed  will  go  far  beyond  the  need 
Association  in  its  political  cha 

The  events  of  li57U  and  ISf] 
at  last  fixed  the   attention 


wAb  to  reerttit.      Of 
wm  Mlere,  warn  Us 

trilk   tiie    Connne    of 
boof  tli«  menbeei  of  tim 

^  aad  abo  men  who  bad 

of  PAfk  were  itOl 
goMcml  comcil  of  horn- 
wm  wddnm  defeoding  tlifi 
Bod«r  the  Coginituie,  fc^ooi 
of  G€f»etal»  Leoomta 
to  tJie  bonijig 
Se  boildtiig^  **  Worldisg- 
wtth  its  Commm^"  ihe 
^  will  be  fonrtr  eel- 
the  gloriofis  harbinger  of 
ittj."  And  what  wtU  be 
of  that  lociety?  "The 
rlntaoded  to  aboliah  that 
ptj  which  makes  the  lubor 
bjf  tbo  wealth  of  the  few. 
th^  erpfopriation  of  the 
|fa>  It  wanted  to  make 
propcxty  a  trust  bjr  trans> 
of  prodactioQi 


^a 

of  wUdhtoi 


of] 

xopa  abni^  b«l  «f  liia  Unitod 

atwdL 

And  now,  wltat  ace  the  forced  with 
wbidi  ihoM  iratfk  rcTolntioo  b  to  be 
aoeocapii^edf  That  the  Awieiatioa 
is  rapiiilj  recraiting  \t»  nambers  ia  < 
bejood  doubt  That  every  strikei 
erery  pioseeation  of  leaders,  every 
Sofly  or  extravagance  of  govemmeni 
which  can  be  made  the  topic  of  agi* 
tat  ion,  brings  fresh  masses  of  the 
working-class  into  the  movement,  la 
certain.  But  does  the  increase  in 
strength  corresjpond  to  the  increase  in 
numbers?  At  a  labor  congress  at^ 
Eisenach  in  1860^  the  ddogiites  of 
societies  counting  one  handri^d  and 
fiiW  thousand  members  voted  the  ad* 


320 


The  International 


hesion  of  their  constituents  en  masse 
to  the  International*  But  we  maj 
well  doubt  the  cohesive  force  of  a 
body  which  is  thus  built  up  by  whole- 
Bale.  It  ia  a  question,  too,  whether 
tho  adhesiou  of  some  hundreds  of 
thousands  of  American  workinj»-men, 
through  the  National  Labor  Union 
and  similar  agencies,  is  of  a  more 
solid  character;  while  it  is  certain, 
that,  with  the  hard-headed  English 
trades-unionists,  accession  to  tho  In- 
temational  is  not  pennitte<i  to  stand 
in  the  way  of  the  practir.al  interests 
and  purposes  of  the  Union,  which 
still  maintains  its  paramount  claim  to 
the  working-man^s  allegiance.  In- 
deed, one  of  the  French  secretaries 
of  the  International,  in  an  official  let- 
ter, complains  that  the  English  lack 
"the  generalizing  spirit  and  tho  rev- 
olutionary passion,''  and  therefore 
pronounces  it  folly  to  intrust  the  Eng- 
lish  social  movement  to  purely 
English  hands^  The  explosion  which 
will  ensue,  if  English  working-men 
ever  find  their  interests  managed  and 
their  movements  directed  by  a  knot 
of  foreign  entlmaiasts,  may  be  antici- 
pated as  a  spectacle  for  goda  and 
men.  Already  insular  stifF-neckedness 
occasionally  breaks  out,  as,  fur  exam- 
ple, after  the  downfall  of  the  Com- 
mune of  Paris,  when  tho  issue  of  the 
addresa  already  referred  to  was  fol- 
lowed by  the  witlidrawal  of  two  Eng- 
lisli  mem  tiers,  Odgerand  Lucraft,  from 
the  general  council  We  believe  it 
is  in  one  of  the  places  thus  vacated 
that  Robert  Applegarth,  well  known 
as  the  secretary  of  one  of  the  most 
important  English  trades-unions,  the 
Carpenters  and  Joiners,  again  makes 
his  appearance  in  the  general  council 
The  withdrawal  of  men  like  Odger 
and  Lucraft,  who  sympathize  fully 
with  the  general  purpose  of  social  re- 
orgaai^ation,   illustrates    that  which 


will  probably  be  found  the 
stacle  to  definite  action  by  tbd 
national     To  collect  a  loose 
followers  by  exciting  mere  ha 
what  exists  ib  easy;   but  tol 
the  whole  towards  some  specii 
stitute  is  not  only  difficult, 
may   predict,    impossible, 
cision  of  the  Congress  of  Br 
favor  of  communism  neither  t 
the  minority  nor  ended   the 
si  on,  as  the  first  attempt  to  ca 
principles  into  practice  mustl 
Until  men  rise  much   higher  f 
much  lower  than  they  now 
munity  of   property   will    n^ 
command  the   support   of 
body,  except  under  the  indu^ 
religious  fervor;  and  of  that 
the  International  could  not 
less.     But  if  the  opponents  of 
munism  are  irreconcilable,  so  alsa 
the  opponents  of  those  social btic 
ories  which  allow  the  continue 
ence  of  capital,  but  modify 
tions   with   labor       This,    s 
communist,  is  merely  an  exchd 
masters  J    and    as    for    the 
scheme  of  co-operation,  that  1^ 
eyes  merely  a   plan  for  buili 
a  new  ari:5t0v' r:\cy.      Indeed^ 
printed  discussions  and  report 
International,  —  and  a  more 
dinary  mass  of  crudities   it 
hard  to  find,  wrought  out  ofl 
much  patient  labor,  darkene 
times    by    unmistakable     en% 
hatred   of    the   more    fort  una 
sometimes     illumined     by     | 
though  vague   aspirations    fo 
thing  better,  —  nothing  is  mor 
ing  than   the  instant   oppostt 
mutually  excluding  theories 
as  a  practical  question  of 
construction  is  approached. 

With  this  inherent  defect 
organizing  force,  —  a  defect  wl 
no  doubt  destroy  it  eoone? 


FadebaL 


321      S 


intematioiial  diaws  its  stiengtii 
gitation  from  the  impreaBioa 
nniFezBally  pervading  the  la- 
gdasses  of  the  ciTOized  worid, 
of  the  results  of  the  progress  of 
m  society  labor  does  not  enjoy 
US  share.  That  there  ia,  right 
poog,  a  general  uneasiness  and 
of  injustice;  that  there  is,  in 
f  something  to  be  righted,  —  is 
(liable.  That  a  body  like  the  In- 
tional^  will  ever  discover  .what 
is  that  needs  to  be  righted, 
more  Hiat  it  will  ever  right  the 
^  we  do  not  believe.  The  work 
of  investigation  and  of  remedy 
be  dime  by  cocker  heads,  by 
instructed  minds,  and  by  men 
win  anogate  neither  £»  labor 


nor  Ibr  ca^Ktal  any  mojmst  advaniiage^ 
The  work  has  bcca  too  kog  neg- 
lected ;  bat  tfTvwj  Ammema  kai  rea- 
son to  be  pioad  tkafr  known  goresn- 
ment  ha*  now  bees  tke  £iat  to 
undertake  k  npoo  a  eoempnbsxaare 
plan.  Under  Mkl  Hoars  mMt  naeas 
ure,  if  we  act  wiitk  smiccxe  |Nii|Mitte 
and  cooacienlaoai  rusoiirtion,  we  may 
hope  to  find  die  OMaitt  of  ending  tke 
present  eondseft  of  nafisnliy  kamM»- 
nioQS  iaUx^isUf  moA  of  avotdsng  die 
chief  danger  wkiek  ntm  dautens 
oar  modem  civilixafiion.  Tbis  done, 
we  shali  hear  no  nMse  of  the  Inter- 
national, except  as  it  may  eootinne  to 
alarm  and  torment  those  who  aie  not 
yet  bold  or  stmig  enoogli  to  do  jns- 
tieetoalL 


FACIEBATL 

BT  HESTBT  ABBCT* 


K  old  masters,  painters  and  acolpsors.  pbeed  the  Lapgfferjt  laida  usaeK^  not 
crfKt,  OQ  their  works ;  as  if  to  indicate  that  thcr  were  wA  itqoal  to  thft  idfA, 
sUoC,"  he  was  working  on  it,  bat  he  did  not  thiiik  it  wm  tuxa^L^^^  It  k  only 
aiw  tuttiM  or  the  conceited  fix>l,  who  is  so  iar  suiified  widi  fau  work^  as  to  tar, 
at;*  as  if  it  were  finiahed.] 


As  thoughts  possess  the  fiuhion  of  the  mood 
That  gives  them  birth,  so  every  ^at^.  we  do 

Partakes  of  our  inborn  disquietude, 

That  spurns  the  old  and  reaches  toward  the  new. 

The  noblest  works  of  human  art  and  pride 

Show  that  their  makers  were  not  satisfied. 


For,  gasing  down  the  ladder  of  our  ^^t^^ 

The  rounds  seem  slender.    All  past  work  appears 

Unto  the  doer  faulty.     The  heart  bleeds, 
And  pale  regret  turns  weltering  in  tears 

To  think  how  poor  our  best  has  been,  how  vain, 
Bemda  die  ezcellenoe  we  would  attain. 


322 


UpB  <md  Downs. 


UPS    AND    DOWNS. 
A  NOVEL  IN  THIRTY   CHAPTERS. 
BY  EDWARD    E,    HAI^E, 


CHAPTER  Xm. 

«  Why  !  "  said  Carl  Routida  in  real 
sturprise,  *'I  thought  you  knew  no 
one  in  Mihvaulde  ! " 

**  I  thought  80  too,"  jBaid  Jasper  j 
'*and  I  told  you  so.  1  certainly  did 
not  know  Miss  Schwara  was  here, 
neither''— 

*^  In  the  higgeat  basket-shop  I  ever 
daw,  or  Mr»  Kising  either/'  said  Ber- 
tha, interrupting  him  and  laughing. 
'*  That  is  where  ho  thinks  we  met 
Lost.  0  Mr.  Bounds  I  we  could  make 
you  laugh  very  heartily,  if  we  told 
you  of  our  journey.  But  all  I  need 
tell  you  now  is,  that  Mr.  Hi  sing  ren- 
dered  mo  and  ray  mother  and  my 
poor  little  brother  very  essential  ser- 
vice those  days/' 

*^  Not  more,"  said  Jasper,  *^  than 
you  rendered  rae.'-  For  Jasper  ha<], 
more  than  once,  run  hack  in  memory 
over  the  exceeding  wretchedness  of 
that  sultry  afternoon,  and  the  relief 
fi»m  it  which  had  come  as  soon  as 
his  life  was  twisted  in  with  some 
other  life.  But  he  did  not  choose  to 
follow  ha<^k  that  thread;  and  he  par- 
ned  Bertha's  compliment  by  asking 
after  lier  brother,  aud  how  the  broken 
leg  was.  This  started  them  on  an- 
other line  of  talk  ;  and  Carl  Eoumij, 
seeing  his  Detroit  friend  was  really 
interested,  and,  indeed,  his  Miiwaukie 
friend  no  less  so,  left  them  to  their 
mutual  discoveries,  gentleman  as  he 
was;  nor  lessened  the  pleasure  he 
Lad  given  to  each  by  trying  either 
to  share  it  or  to  watch  it  So  Jtisper 
and  Bertha,  each  being  a  simple  and 
unaffected  person,  fell  at  once  into 
the  most  natural  talk  in  the  world; 


and,  after  Bertha  had  eaten  )ii 
they  left  the  supper-table  to  1 
this  talk  out  in  the  cooler  air  < 
partl}^  deserted  dancing-rooms. 

**  I  hardly  think  so/*  said 
as  she  took  her  seat  on  fehe  *j1 
which  he  led  her,  —  he  Sitting  | 
little  chair  at  its  side,  ^'*  I 
think  so.  Certainly,  the  people  1 
most  fond  of — well^  myaonta 
mother  —  seem  to  say  just  the  i 
thing  at  the  right  roomenr,  wit! 
ever  having  thought  any  thing! 
it  before.  Just  the  ^vise  word,  I 
bright  joke,  or  the  true  answer, fl 
to  their  lips  J  and  all  poor  stupid  I 
do  is  to  sit  and  wonder  how| 
possibly  can  Icnow  so  much  or  ti| 
well.  I  don't  wonder  that  all  chi| 
think  their  fathers  and  mothiixs  I 
every  thing,** 

•'^  I  am  sure  I  don't/'  said  Jl 
"  I   always  thought   my  m\dt  \ 
everything;  and,  indeed,  1  thd 
now.     But  I  guesa  it  was  p« 
cause  ho  put  me   so  wholly  J 
ease.     We  used  to  say  of  ouu  d\ 
professors,    when    I    was    in 
til  at  when  you  called  upon  hwn 
made  you  feci  as  if  you  were  thfl  I 
fellow  in  the  world ;   and  so  y«i 
that  he  was  the  next  best'^ 

**  How  nice  that  must  havpl 
I  know  such  people;   but  I  am 
going  to  own   that   I   oyer-<.'5tra 
my  mother  and  my  aunL     It ' 
aunt  you  took  me  to,  the  ba 
Oh,   I   was  dreadlttlijr  a&ald 
then,  for  I  luul  never  seen  ht9r( 
she    is    very  lovely."  —  This] 
thoughtfully. 

Jasx^er  longed  to  my  he 


Up9  ami  Dowrn^ 


PTT  IScelj'r  tf  the  aunt  wei«  anjr 
like  her  nieeet.  PmbaUj  lifi 
hxwn  Ksid  so  eigbl  centime 
I  ofaserre  thsai  in  such  Imognage 
\  ipoke  to  Onobria*  But  it 
eigbt  oeDlimes  agow  It  wim 
twentj>fir«  j««s  ago.  And 
y  not  being  m  fool^  stiangled  hb 
at 

» «sj  jTOit  are  ligbt,''  said  he. 

It  that  the  aunt,  whom  I 

r,  and  the  mother^  whom 

[knov.  if  yoa   remember^  both 

a   great  deal   more  even  than 

ad    1  do.      But  don't  jon  see 

t^tto?  they  hare  been  knocked 

m  great  deal  more.     Yon  and 

been   to  sehooU  —  that's  alL 

\  Studied  a  few  books.     These 

I  peopki   who  are  so  nice  and 

Ad  mnch,  hare  studied  peo- 

( and  nations ;  they  hare 

and    oceans;    they 

with  ercr  ao  many  people 

telking    lo;    and  they  have 

experiments,     and     succeeded 

and   Buled  sometimes.     I 

,  I  am  not  forty ;  but  I  should 

\%  gt«al  6ati«^faetion  in  getting 

pfompt,   decbiTe  wisdom   of 

\  t^ioyed  hia  enthugiadm,  un- 

Tisry  perfectly  what  he 

Wbsn  she   had  heard  Wal- 

llw  fnano-forte,  brave,  direct, 

r  ffom  the  beginning  to  the 

own  performance  seemed  to 

^tlie  comparison  spongy,  mufiled, 

r ;  and  she  had  almost  said 

*  touch  the  keys  again* 

in    Jaspers    eulogy    on    the 

,  drctiive  wisdom  of  forty/'  — 

I  word  to  both  of  them  meant  age 

iti^nMetl  *  *-,  —  Bertha 

lier  o^\  t  in  Wal- 

I  playing.     Vet,  s!ie  suid, 

beliere  that  the  sense  of 

mmij  because  people 


liad  tisvdM,  hnd  seen  oceans  and  oon- 

ttnaDtSrSiBdiMiiandwDimen.  Sbealso 
knew  people  of  Ibirtyy  wbo  vex^  very 
sti^id  and  veiy  spoogyv  yet  they 
kepi  going  orer  the  wurid.  There 
were  sncli  people  at  her  fiilbec^s  and 
her  undeX — ^and  here"  she  was 
going  to  say.    But  slie  stopped. 

'^  I  dare  say,''  said  Jasper^  who  was 
in  first-rate  spirits  now;  long  enoagh 
it  was  since  he  had  found  himself 
talking  with  an  unaSected  woman, 
who  was  willing  to  teU  the  truth 
even  in  the  tones  of  her  voice,  '*  I 
dare  say«  I  suppose  they  had  seen 
all  these  things  without  seeing  them. 
I  suppose  they  had  not  any  imaginik^ 
tion  ;  if  they  had  not,  why,  of  < 
they  could  not  see  them.  Perhaps 
they  nerer  indulged  in  day-dream- 
ing." 

'*  Do  you  mean  to  say  that  you  do, 
Mr.  Rising?" 

"  You  look  so  frightened/*  said  he, 
laughing  again,  ^^that  I  am  alVuid 
to  confess  it.  But  murder  will  out. 
I  do  sometimes  desert  my  carriage- 
shop  for  a  castle  in  the  air.  I  am  a 
carriage-builder,  Miss  Schwar^" 

"  But,  —  really,  — do  you  know  I 
have  always  supposed,  —  I  have  tried 
to  persuade  myself,  —  that  I  must  not 
buiJd  castles  in  the  air.  I  supposed  it 
was  wrong.'* 

**  Eight  or  wrong,"  said  Jasper 
heartily,  "you  need  not  tell  me  you 
have  never  done  it ;  for  you  have ;  and 
what  is  more,  yoa  like  it.  Miss 
St:h\varzj  I  am  sure." 

^*  To  tell  you  the  whole  truth,  I  do,'' 
said  Bertha,  preteudirjg  to  laugli  this 
time,  but  really  a  little  uneasy;  for 
they  had  come  now  on  tlie  verge  of 
what  was  a  question  of  conscience  to 
her,  regarding  w^hich  she  could  not 
afford  to  joke,  because  she  was  not 
certain.  Jasper  was  too  sensitive 
and  too  sympathetic  not  to  catch  in 


324 


Ups  and  DotcM. 


au  instant  the  drift,  both  of  her 
thought  aud  feeling.  He  dropped 
hia  voico»  and  wholly  changed  from 
the  tone  of  half-banter,  to  saj,  '''Of 
course,  every  thing  in  excess  is  wrong. 
The  word  too  means  wrong,  whether 
we  say  too  much  or  too  little.  Bat 
God  could  never  have  given  us  this 
power  of  withdrawing  irom  persecu- 
tion, misery,  lonelineds,  sufifering,  in- 
to a  world  of  life  and  brightness,  if 
we  were  not  to  use  it  on  oceaaion. 
Why !  you  have  only  to  take  the 
very  case  we  spoke  of,  —  of  the  expe- 
rience people  get  in  advance^  so  that 
they  shall  come  to  some  new  experi- 
ence as  if  they  had  seen  it  a  thou- 
sand times,  —  you  have  only  to  take 
that  case  to  see  how  an  air-castle 
may  prepare  you  for  very  stern 
emergency." 

Bertha  was  pleased  with  his  confi- 
dence in  her  good  senise,  pleased 
enough  to  lose  her  shyness  now  j  and 
she  said,  — 

"  Do  you  remember  Wordsworth,  — 

'  Who,  in  the  heat  of  conflict,  keeps  the  law 
In  calmne^  made,  snd  Me«  wliiU  be  foro- 
sawV" 

And  then  she  was  frightened  with 
herself,  for  fear  she  had  said  some- 
thing pretentious.  But  she  need  not 
have  been  afraid.  Jasper  was  as  much 
in  earne8t  as  she  •  and  he  plunged 
on,  with  quot^itions,  aud  stories,  recol- 
lections of  his  own  and  experiences 
of  other  people,  to  tell  her  the  gix>d 
which  he  had  found  in  some  of  hia 
air-castles. 

**  In  some  of  them !  '*  said  Bertha, 
"  I  do  not  believe  your  college  pro- 
fessors thanked  you  for  building  them 
ia  recitation-time,  as  you  say  you 
did." 

<<AhI"  said  he,  laughing  again, 
**  as  to  that,  they  had  to  take  their 
chance.  It  was  their  business  to 
make  the  Greek  or  the  Latin  enter- 


thS 


taining.     If  they  did  not, 
was  not  mine.     ^Ind  so,  as 

had  translated  my  ten  lines, 
freeman  again,  and  miglti 
where  I  chose,  —  hunting  dfer  ii 
ginia,  crossing  ice-floes  with  ] 
or  laying  out  my  ornamental  gi 
at  home.  I  guess  it  did  nii:  as 
good  as  hearing  the  other  feltc 
their  blunders." 

But  it  will  never  do  to 
down   the  corners  or  trace 
long   straight   courses   of    i\v 
young  folks'  talk,  in  this  haj 
when    they   discovered 
After  all,  it  was  not  what 
so   much  as  the  way  in  whii 
said  it,  which  gave  to  that 
in  a  room  at  first  deserted, 
wards  gradually  filling  with 
a  charm  of    its    own,    wlii 
them  both  recall  it,  again 
for  years  upon  years  after, 
be   remembered,    first,   what 
lives  they  had    both  been  lead 
lonely  as  to  real  comparison  of  < 
ence  with   people  of  sympathy 
age,   intelligence,  and  culture. 
to  be  remembered,  again,  tba 
regarded  the  other  as  being  a 
ger,   who  was   entitled   to  a  < 
cordiality   of   manner  which 
not  have  been  awarded  to  one 
place  or  manor   born.     Each^ 
fore,   went    rather    more   that 
way.        It    is    to    be     rem  en 
once  more,  that,  as  they  tiilketJ 
of  them  once  and  again   recall 
thought  of  the  otlier,  as  of  a 
factor,  a  person  who  had  done 
tial  service  when  service  was  n 
deed.     Most  of  all,  and  benea 
it  is  to   be   remembered,  '' 
Eternal  Order,  these  two   ^ 
two   whose  lives   harmonixod 
tially,  absolutely,  and  complete 
each  other,  —  who  were  thus 
for  each  other  and  for  nobo<^ 


Ups  ctnd  DowM. 


32! 


Qer  af  Mrs.  Bosensl^m'B 

■y  die  place,  mtA  tbe  mo- 

lier   supper  itm    tnded 

wliea     tbej    were 

>  oot  sometlimg  of  eiich 

talk  wad  too   good   to 

Of  course  the  interrupt 

!  and  time  came  in.  Bur- 

ig  witli  tiiat  nice,  eweet 

r  girl ;  and  Bertha  had  to 

I  hochy  aod  to  inttodace  Ja^- 

Windennere,   m>    that 

make  a  chance  to 

very  aorrj  to  lose  mj 

toBi  bat  I  was  under 

If  I   were  bold  enough,    I 

kjv  perhaps  we  might  hare  it 

^tber  tim^'^    'rhls  wa0   a 

**     "   .toiaj;  bat  she 

i  Booads  had  told  Bor- 

wboTj,  and  that  Barton 

'  and  no  UaoX*     Theo 

eame  running 

\  aO  agkm,  and  her  garb 

Beillia  had  to  put  the 

3k  trail   tn  coder.     Xo^  Jas- 

\  can  he  welded  upon  this 

talk!     Take  it   home 

naka  the  best  of  it. 

d     she    said, 

of  eoDseiofia  or  nn- 

that  rushed  trrm  her 

\Am  had  the  least  diffi* 

Bghersslt'  Bemem- 

of  her  e^nes,  as  she 

in  the  tmoc,  when  joa 

;  jpoor  notion ;  rentem- 

eternal  into  which  70U 

as  she  listened 

,  if  JOQ  spoke  of  some- 

\  had  thmigfat  was  one 

^    hot  which 

jcKt  bad  thought  oat 

remember    how  the 

fitttjr  dmpped  on  her 

idle  looked  down  again, 

,  she  bad  said  too  much, 

Ag  Wordsworth,  or  in 


owning  to  aome  great  enjoyment  or 
some  great  sorrow.  Take  all  this 
home  with  joo,  Jasper;  repeat  it 
and  le-imagine  it  to  jouiael^  again 
and  again  and  again.  Keep  it  all, 
forerer,  lor  one  of  the  treasures  of 
your  life.  But  jou  csannot  hare  anjr 
more  to-niglit  The  party  m  in  lull 
blast  again.  You  most  dance  with 
somehodyf  —  Adelaide  Bosenstein  or 
Mi»  Windermere.  Go  ^d  yoar^lf 
a  partner.  And  leare  Bertha  here; 
her  other  partners  will  come  to  try  to 
persuade  her  to  break  her  resolution 
and  to  iralts  again ;  and  these  other 
giiis  wOl  come  and  sit  on  the  sofa 
beside  her.  You  cannot  take  your  nice 
first  talk  and  weld  upon  it  any  thing 
more! 

CHAFTEH  XIV. 

M&axwHix^  oar  Mend  Oscar  wae 
left  in  charge  of  the  carrlage-^ctory 
in  Detroit,  or,  boy-fasliion,  supposed 
he  was.  Mr.  Dundas  or  Mr.  Buffum 
would  have  been  amazed  had  they 
known  the  weight  of  the  responsibil- 
ity which  rested  on  his  shoaldera  as 
soon  as  his  "  master  '"*  was  gone.  The 
loyalty  of  his  allegianoe  to  Jasper 
was  no  greater  in  his  absence  than  in 
his  presence.  But,  so  soon  ss  he 
started  on  his  little  tour  westward 
from  Detroit,  the  boy  conoesred  that 
the  time  had  come  for  him  to  watch 
orer  ersry  interest  to  whicJi  his  "  mas- 
ter," as  he  caQed  bim^  could  hare 
cared,  were  he  at  home. 

It  liail  always  been  a  matter  of 
grief  to  Oscar  that  the  camage-shop 
should  be  lelt  at  night  unguarded. 
Onoe  and  again  he  had  asked  Jasper 
whether  it  would  not  he  better  to 
hare  a  watchman  there,  or  at  the  least, 
to  let  the  apprentices  take  turns  in 
sleefiing  there.  Nothing  could  hare 
proved  hia  loyalty  ia  a  more  pathetic 
way  than  this ;  for,  if  tliere  were  any 
special  joy  in  Oscar^s  life,  it  was  in 


326 


Upi  and  Downs. 


the  golden  liour  of  all,  wheE  he  and 
Jfisper  were  in  their  ovTn  room,  he- 
fore  going  to  bed,  —  when  the  con- 
cert or  lectiire  or  caucus,  or  other 
evening  occupation,  was  over,  which 
had  called  Jasper  awaj,  ^ — when  he 
threw  himself  ou  the  outside  of  his 
bed,  and  talked  with  the  eager  boy 
about  the  day's  work,  or  read  to  him 
may  be  from  the  last  Dickens,  or  let 
Oscar  road  slowly  to  him,  that  he 
might  help  him  both  about  his  read- 
ing and  his  English,  When  the 
clock  struck  ten,  Jasper  would  rouse 
Dp,  and  begin  to  undress,  But  they 
made  long  talk  while*  the  undressing 
went  on ;  and  it  might  be  eleven  be- 
fore the  boy  was  well  asleep  on  his 
side  the  room,  and  his  "  master  "  on 
the  other.  For  Oscar  to  offer,  of  his 
own  accord,  to  give  up  this  special 
luxury,  that  he  might  sleep  in  a  little 
room  in  the  varnishing-shed,  was 
thorough  proof  of  his  devotion.  As 
such,  Jasper  accepted  it.  But  he 
never  listened  fur  a  moment  to  the 
proposal.  Not  that  in  those  days 
there  was  a  very  efficient  street-pa- 
trol in  Detroit,  but  that  the  customs 
of  the  place  were  simple,  and  no  one 
had  as  yet  found  much  need  of  night 
watchmen. 

No  sooner  was  Jasper  gone,  bow- 
ever,  than  Oscar  renewed  his  propo- 
sals, making  it  this  time  to  Mr,  Dun- 
das,  the  partner  with  whom  he  had 
most  to  do.  "You  no  know,  Mr. 
Dundas,  —  I  mean  you  do  not  know, 
what  many  kind  bad  men,  loaf-men, 
you  say,  go  come,  come  go,  up  down, 
down  up  all  the  street,  every  street, 
yes,  in  Detroit  every  night ;  yes,  Mr. 
Dundas.  You  no  know,  because  you 
have  night  home  to  live  in;  pleasant 
home,  pretty  home,  nice  home  with 
fire,  home  with  lamp,  home  with 
wife.  You  no  go  come,  —  I  mean 
you  have  not  known  how  to  go  come 


ap  street,  down  street, 
evening,  3*e8.  Sleep  in  old  c 
in  old  pig-shed^  sleep  on 
steamboat,  yes,  when  all  nigl 
go  down  in  fore  hatch  and  m 
Great  many  men  go  up  stn* 
street;  yes,  all  loaf  men,  drii 
smoke  men,  swear  men,  sta 
Loaf  man,  smoke  man,  s 
tw^isted  long-nine ;  can^t smok 
all  too  bad  to  smoke ;  man  w 
Tjrant  sw^ear,  wTa,nt  fight,  he  thi 
old  long-nine  all  on  fire,  Mr. 
Old  long-nme  he  go  right  in 
our  yard,  where  that  boy  Je 
the  castings;  no  sweep  strsM 
wind  bloWj  wind  blow,  stn 
barrel  burn,  clapboard  burn, 
room  burn,  all  one  great  ni] 
no  engine,  no  Mr,  Jasper,  no 
—  all  new  carriages  burn 
counting-room  burn  up;  1 
per  come  home,  and  say,  *  Di 
BufTum  —  Oscar,'  he  say, —  * 
where  gone  all  wagons,  all  d 
Yes,  Mr,  Dundas,  that  whal 
Now,  Mr,  Dunda^s,  I  sld 
cubby  room,  varnish -shed;  ' 
Dundas,  I  sleep  there.  I 
long-nine,  I  smell  straw; 
Dundas,  I  smell  every  thing, 
up  bed,  —  one  little  dipper 
Dundas,  —  old  long-nine  he,! 
wet,  straw  all  wet;  no  iiN 
safe,  carriage  safe,  aU  safe. 
Dundas  !  let  me  sleep  vamisi 

But  Dundas  did  not  see 
haps  he  thought  that  if  Qi 
there,  all  the  boys  would  ha'^ 
there.     Perhaps  he  thought 
rather  take  the  chance  of 
dering  long-nine    once    in 
than  the  certainty,  more  of 
proximate,  of  foar  boys   pl| 
fours   at   their  will   in   thd^ 
room  ;  and  Mr,   Dundas  la^ 
Oscar  8  fears,  and  refused  tb 
permission. 


Up»  and  Dotent. 


327 


\  \»  nghiv  that  th«  loog- 

(lent  did   not   happen,  Mid 

IkctNMy  did    not    bom 

th«  Ims  did  Oacar  keep 

on  tho  shop.     He  had 

the  outer  doop§  with. 

ight  every  night  the  boj 

down  iheiv,  and  weut  m  and 

10  KKtoda  to  be  aare  that  all 

it  ahotald  be.     Xcjrt  that  an/ 

awr  thij,  till   he  told  it  after- 

Jaap^r*     It  ^aa    the   onlv 

ion   he   could    take,   and    it 

ihitjugh  hia  master^a  al>- 

rerj  afterooan,  as  it  happened, 
eiJi's  ball,  poor  Oscar, 
been  entrapped  iuto  a  party 
Ka !  d^tar  Lily, —  or  other 
■der,  — jott  need  not  he  afraid 
tored  away  by  had  boys 
to  drink  or  to  gamble. 
Tery  moilest  party  of  pleas- 
OQe  I  hope  yoa  might  hare 
io,  had  jou  then  been  alive, 
three  nice  young  vromen, 
ta  the  same  boarding-house 
IT  ai»d   Jaaper,  with  nhom 
neii  had  gnrwn  to  he  more 
with  any  of  the  others 
firom  the  accident,  I 
that  they  all  went  to  church 
\     Two  of  them  were  sifters; 
her,  a  achooUmi stress    she^ 
tbe  aatne  town   in   Maine 
Aa  Uie  winter  closed,  O*- 
e  a  great  point  of  teach- 
all  to  akate,  as  he  said  hid 
md  oMrther  liid  on  the  fiorda 
Excepting  on  the  Korth 
I  thiQk  vkattng  was  then  al- 
Iraltj  unknown  to   American 
mnd,    at    first    these     three 
ovghl  tl  among  the    impodsi- 
Ba(  Jatper^  with  hia  tales* 
jlen   ADd   Be    Windta    and 
lli^    ID  HcMT   Torbj  and   hia 


talk  of  Ihtteli  estala^  and  Oacar,  m 
his  pleaaanl  broipen  £ii^aib  and  kia 
really  eameafc  bopali 
had  oTeieoBM  aD  ^eir 
and  man  J  a  tiiae  tliey  had  all  gooe 
down  togethei^  to  a  bend  tlicce 
is  in  die  nrtx^  waam  little 
below  the  heart  eC  IIm  ^^ 
aaer  a  while,  the  J^oug  peofle  «f 
course  fontud  the  exereiae  m  pt— iMp 
and  pkaaaal  ia  Mtrkigan  aa  in  Uol* 
laadL  Tbe  akattng  kad  gaae  wtdi 
the  ice;batlbegtil%ar  jmngladiea^ 
aa  joQ  dboQM  to  call  tiieaa»  kad  not 
forgotten  the  pc^ectj  Eaaalj  ooortesjr 
with  whkh  Oae»r  had  maaaged  to 
make  evecy  thing  pleaaaol  and  ea^ 
in  their  dEattag  piactioe;  and  oow 
that  tbej  aaw  htm  ekafiag  aad  lest- 
less  ander  hia  friend's  abaeocey  tbej 
concerted  to  make  a  little  pleaaofa- 
party  which  mig^t  take  him  ool  firaia 
himself,  for  at  least  one  aftemooo. 

So  they  told  him  that  the  apring 
was  opening  so  earij,  that  ihej  be- 
lieved they  could  fotd  aome  of  the 
earliest  spring  dowers  in  a  boakj 
place  they  were  wont  to  go  to,  not  so 
very  far  from  the  old  skating- 
grounds,  and  that  they  were  going  to 
try  their  luck  on  this  particular  after» 
noon,  and  would  not  he  join  them? 
Oscar  W3W  glad  to  say  jea.  '^  I  fond 
of  flowers^  Mees  Delia  *»  my  dear 
mother  glad  of  flowers  too ;  mj  sis- 
ter Gretchen  fond  of  flowers  too;  yes, 
all  glad  of  dowers,  ^ — pretty  blue 
spring  flower,  little  veilchen^  Mees 
Delia,  close  next  snow-water  at  home, 
yea,  Mees  Delia,  close  next  the 
snow."  He  begged  leave  to  go 
away  from  work  early,  left  old  Dan 
to  shut  up  the  factory^  and  in  his 
beat  rig  was  ready  to  escort  the 
young  people  at  four  o'clock. 

^^r.  Buffum  had  heard  of  the  party, 
and  had  taken  them  all  by  surpriiNi 
by   driving  out  so  as   to    intercept 


^ 

^ 


i 

4 


328 


UpB  and  Dovms. 


them,  in  the  great  job-wagon  of  the 
factory  J  on  which  he  had  improvised 
a  new  cross-seat.  He  took  them  all 
on  l»oard,  so  that  they  were  all  saved 
their  walk  out,  and  had  the  longer 
time  for  their  exploration  j  and  a  mer- 
ry afternoon  J  not  unsuccessful  in  its 
foraging,  they  made  of  it,  after  he  left 
them  to  its  fortunes.  With  more 
moss  than  flowers,  but  still  with  no 
poor  show  of  maple-blossomsi,  willow- 
catkins,  violets,  and  other  triimiphs  of 
spriDg,  they  came  out  near  the  high- 
road to  a  little  copse  of  willows  they 
had  been  aimiog  at^  on  their  return; 
and  then  *Mees  Delia*  triumphantly 
produced  from  the  concealed  parcel  at 
the  bottom  of  her  basket,  enough 
buttered  biscuits  and  dried  beef  to 
answer  for  an  unexpected  picnic  sup- 
per. They  were  jyst  tired  enough  to 
sit  down,  and  under  the  lee  of  the 
great  willow  pollards  it  seemed  warm 
enough  for  them  to  dare  do  so.  Oscar 
gayly  took  his  own  water  cup  and 
Mary  Frazer's,  and  went  down  to  the 
road  to  bring  some  water  from  a 
troagh  they  had  noticed  there. 

As  he  came  to  the  trough  he 
noticed  that  the  three  ill-looking  men 
who  were  standing  smoking^  by  the 
door  of  the  wr»>tched  black  smith-shop 
close  by,  were  talking  in  the  loud, 
bickeriiig  tone  of  men  who  ha<i  drunk 
more  than  was  good  for  them  j  and  in 
a  moment  more  it  was  clear  enough 
that  they  were  talking  German*  The 
worda  that  caught  Oscar's  ear  were 
a  stupid,  mulish  exclamation  :  — 

"  Kimm  alle  drei,  nimm  alle  drei ; 
lass  keiu  stehen/* 

"  Take  all  three,  take  all  three  ;  do 
not  leave  any," 

"  Tuke  three,  lose  all,"  replied  one 
of  the  others,  as  sententiously,  but 
with  less  liquor  in  his  tone  and 
senses. 

To  Oscar^a  ear  the   language  was 


almost  as  familiar  as  his 
the  men  were  careless  of  bis  \\ 
as  he  filled  the  mugs ;  and  I 
most  drunk  of  the  three  repeal 
idly,  *<  Take  all  three*  take  % 
—  one  for  you,  one  for  you, 
me  and  my  brown  mare/' 

When  Oscar  saw  that  it  v 
mare  that  something  was  to  b 
his  curiosity  was  just  enoug' 
to  make  him  loiter  a  mom« 
rinse  out  a  mug  at  the  troi 
supposing  for  an  instant  thatj 
listening  to  secrets, 

♦'You  take  three/'  said  t 
possessor,  "  and  you  wake  tb 
street.  Three  wagooB  make 
tie  in  a  still  night.  Take 
tlie  two  mares,  and  you 
Toledo  before  morning." 

Oscar  did  not  dare  w*ait  a 
longer*  With  his  two  full 
returned  to  the  simple  pici 
tried  to  take  his  part  in  its 
ties  lieartily.  But  he  coidd  I 
to  the  unconsciousness  and 
which  Jasper  the  same  erenia 
to  Bertha*  Oscar  all  this 
had  a  heavy  responsibility  i 
and  this  about  mares  and 
frightened  him.  He  tried  to 
this  from  his  companions,  and 
he  succeeded.  They  still  hi 
long  walk  before  them. 
weather  was  quite  too  cool 
lounging  at  their  little  sup 
they  were  soon  briskly  walk 
town. 

Oscar  went  fairly  home  wil 
and  made  his  good-bys  in 
ant,  frank  way.  "Yet,  M< 
we  have  what  you  say  — y«a^< 
truly  nice  time,  also  especii 
we  get  what  you  say  wet  mi 
moss,  not  wet  moss,  —  yes,  j 
Delia,  wo  shall  go  another 
day."     And  he  was  gone. 

Back  to  the  shop  he  wenti  I 


Up^  amd  Dofftns. 


Into  Hm  <hop  U   mmm^  ^kmm^  W  fii 


lifct 


wtei«  Ultra,  jwt  ae  W 

MIL.    BfH  IkovloogwwU 

re?    Wbo  flko^  W  tell 

>?    Old  Dm  «■  m  wiF- 

Oaear  did  not  bow 

Thare  WW  oo*  4iC  dM  1 

rUsdkB  0fli;Wi  OlKur^d 

iha.     He  «m  a  GcnBftB^ 

bc'jr's  exated  hncj  ma^t 

mj^em  of  tha  mok  be  wss 

OC  comae  Okv  o«^t  to 

tolbe  polliff  iiftiiw     Bat 


bed  top-vagoiie  widdh  be       He  peekd  tf  tbe  Ml,  fiiUjM  tee 


kndlx. 


p^  bj  the  eboog 
l»dtl»  dislike  of 
oSrale  wbieli 

odaeatBd  on  tlie 
oT  Ae  Jkil«ita<^  irmm 
tpeBCW  dovaward.  For 
bof  Imj  in  ADibaiii  in 
;  tbea  be  went  do>VB 
id  bmied  binuelf 
for  balf  an  bcwr. 
roAed  for  near  ma  bour  in 
the  gftle  of  tbe  jfeid 
IqgB  be  ecmld  dimw 
%  dfag^^bam  wbieh 
isam  tbe  ehed.  It  wne 
now.  Tbe  etreet  wee 
boj  bad  done  ell   be  eoold 


need.     He  ctpbdncd  in  blej 


eQ  wrang. 

Ijf,  if  be  wmm  rigbtt  engbl 

ire  told  Mn  Dundne  or  Mr. 

Of  ooQiee  be  woold  bnre 

'  in  A  noBient 

BV.   who  knew  be  oonld 

rigfat  bed  tbie  been  m  Kor- 

eblnnit  wsiS  not  so  oeitein 

:   be   looked  up  tbe  street 

the  etroet;  be  locked  tbe 

HMD  door  bebind  bim,  nnd 

Twfy  beet,  to  Mr*  Boffam'a 

m  went  tbcre  beennae  it  was 


Mn. 

*"  I  ytnA  in  Ae  Aop — ^  jon  abop^ 
jren  boibmdf e  ibep^  To^d^  I  bear 
tbic#  G«^Ht  binekgnetd  ^eek  Oer* 
nan.  Tbey  asft  *  Take  tbree,  no  leare 
Iwol'  Otber  one  aaj^  ^Take  one, 
lente  twow'  Tbej  want  In  take  tbien 
new  top-bttggj.  Yei^  tbiee  new  top- 
boggj.  Tea  Mr.  BdfcB,  be  «m 
quick  —  real  qvsek,  to  ebo^;  tbree 
DM&  want  take  tbiee  nice  new  top- 
bfigg^.     Yea     Good-bj.'* 

And  be  was  gone,  leaTingMca  Baf- 
fnan  nose  alanned  tbaa  ev«r  abe  was 
in  bcr  life^  and  wondeiing  wben  tbe 
lodge  wonU  break  op  tbat  ereniDg. 

And  for  Oaear,  tbere  was  nothing 
lelt  bat  to  send  oo,  inor»  than  a 
mile,  to  Dnndas's  boose.  Whj  had 
be  not  gone  there  first  of  all  ?  Fer- 
haps  his  three  black gitards  were  now 
stonnii^  bis  intrenebments,  Shoold 
be  not  go  back  and  see  ?  Not  he. 
What  be  had  begtm  on,  he  would  pat 
tbfOQgb,  Short  waj  he  made  of  the 
stiD  streets  as  he  sped  to  Dtmdas's. 
This  boose  was  dark.  A  loud  ring 
again,  and  another;  and  then  the 
window  opened,  and  to  Oscar^s  happy 
ejee  Mr.  Dnndas's  head  appeared. 

♦*0   Mr.   I>ttiidas!''    gasped    the 


J 


830 


UpB  and  Downs, 


breatltleRS  bojr,  "  come  down  to  sliop. 
Come  quick  ;  come  now.'' 

''  What'a  tho  matter,  Oscar?  There's 
no  fire  ?  " 

"No  fire,  Mr.  Dundaa.  Ko,  no 
fire.  Three  Greriuati  loafer  —  three, 
Mr,  Dundaa ;  yes,  three,  want  to 
brtjig  three  mares^  >In  Duiidaa;  yes, 
thretf  mares,  and  dteal  our  new  top- 
buggies, —three  new  top-buggiea. 
Come  quick,  Mr.  Dundas !  '* 

Dundas  knew  the  bay  waa  no  fool. 
He  slammed  his  window  down,  and 
in  leas  than  a  minute  was  at  the 
door,  half  covered  with  his  clothes, 
to  let  him  in.  Oscar  briefly  told  his 
story.  Dundaa's  first  thonj^ht  was 
that  the  boy*s  anxiety  liad  deceived 
him,  8tiU  he  Lade  hirn  return  as 
quickly  m  he  could,  taking  the  city 
jail  on  his  way,  where  he  could 
certainly  find  an  officer  j  and  Dimdas 
wrote  a  line  on  the  back  of  the  firm*s 
card,  as  a  voucher  for  the  boy.  He 
told  Oscar  be  would  follow  as  soon 
as  be  was  dressed.  And  again  poor 
Oscar  tried  hia  speed  in  the  silent 
streets,  loath  indeed  to  lose  so  much 
distance  as  his  run  to  the  police 
head -quarters  required. 

To  give  them  their  due,  there  was 
little  red  tape  there.  The  moment 
Oscar  told  his  story,  the  oaptain 
nodded  with  understanding,  and  at 
once  named  the  more  intelligent 
of  O^car^s  three  Germans  by  his 
slang  name ;  at  least,  he  hazarded 
a  guess,  ^*  Hamburg  Mike  again/' 
said  be  in  a  haif-aloud,  **  Run  dowm 
boy,  as  quick  as  you  can,'*  said  he  j 
**  though  nobody  can  tell  whether  it 
J3  not  all  moonahiue.  As  like  as  not 
they  are  at  the  Central  Stables  or  at 
Wihl  &  Thunston's.  I  only  wonder 
all  the  horses  and  all  the  carriages 
in  Detroit  are  not  stole  once  a  month. 
V\\  have  two  men  there  as  quick  as 
you  can  get  there  I '' 


a  clod 
the  I 

% 

ittle 
:fae 
f  tij 


Poor  Oi*car  sped  again; 
not  flagging.  Streets  still 
tdl  he  turned  his  la«»t  corner 
Did  he  not  bear  the  rapid 
wheels  ?  Down  into  the  long  i 
which  but  jnst  now  waa  so  silen 
is  dark  as  Egypt,  —  only  a  < 
—  but  the  wretched  boyi 
not  deceive  him.  The 
rat-tat'tat  of  the  hoo&  and  th<s  i 
in  the  long  distance  is  only  i 
Will  be  never  come  to  the  she 
he  is  here  at  last ;  and  in 
ness  it  is  still  easy  enough 
oat  that  there  has  been  little 
about  locks  and  keys.  The 
great  gate  is  dragged  out  of  thj 
One  of  the  rotten  parts 
easily  enough  Rawed  off;  and 
cars  barricade  and  chain  as 
pulled  into  the  street;  and  the  ' 
new  top-buggy,  alle  dreV^  are 
verloren,  gegan^en^  all  gone.^ 
is  only,  on  the  stiU  air,  tbo  sifl 
a-tat  to  tall  which  way  they  spi 

A  minute  was  enough 
to  light  a  lantern  and  see 
was  gone.  As  he  turned 
street  again,  Mr.  Dundas  ( 
and  in  an  instant  took  In 
tion.  Not  because  he  saw- 
in  it,  but  because  be  want 
somethi ng,  be  joined  Osca 
unequal  pursuit.  They  cou 
the  two  officers  approacbl 
they  called  to  them  to  follti 
sound  of  rattling  was  over^  h\ 
and  in  a  minute  poor  Mr. 
refused  to  run.  To  Osca 
blood,  the  slow  pace  he  took 
misery  and  an  iodigoity;  btl^ 
the  officers  a  chance  to  join 
in  advance,  they  all  pressed  on 

Nor  in  vain ! 

Five  minuti?s  brought  thei 
comer    whence     they    look« 
river-ward  to  see  moving  lt| 
though  there  was  no  tatt 


ca4 


Up9  €md  Downs. 


331 


voting.     Kren  Dundus 
'^igiiii  now,  and  in  a  mo- 
;  Uief  joicred  what  wad  already  a 

tllfOftg. 

ae  •*  t«>f^-boggy,"  witli  a  panting, 
lior^e,    was    secure    in    the 
of   a     new? J- wakened   wharf- 
One  t43p-bnggy  waa  pros- 
making  ko-ton   on  the   street 
it   hail  no  forewheela.     The 
;  a  little  in  adrance^  was  in  tlie 
rpoeitiiOQ. 

tiiree    "hlackguarda*'     had 

\  nanow  street  with  success ; 

!  leading  horse  dashed  orer 

f  gutter  which  crossed  it^  the 

Iiad  gi^en  way,  the    hoise 

•fifung  forward  with  the  front 

and  the  shock  had  been  so 

that   bj    the    reins  he    had 

PHamborg  Mike*'  heariJyfor- 

tbe  etonea.     He  lay  on  the 

wholly  without    sensei   as 

I  and  OscAT  came  np. 

r's    drunken   friend   was    the 

^mcvder.     He  had  turned  from 

:  sharply,  and  swung  against 

cmWtooe.      Exactly  the    aame 

9t  happened  to  him.     But  he 

to  far  forewarned,  that,   as  his 

wait  0^  with  wheels  and  reins^ 

elf  abandoned  the  wreck,  and 

own  Totttion  yanished  into  the 

thirf  driver  had  tried  to  turn 
1  ivQiiiL  Bot  hia  horse  had  prob- 
htlked  aod  refused.  For  some 
I  he  abo  had  left  his  prize  and 


eemh  had  roused  a  drinking- 

m    a     neighboring    bar-room, 

I  their  oaths  and  wonderments  had 

the  nearest  sleepers.     With 

At  lights,  and   in  different  cos- 

^  ft  inottej  assembly  was  exam- 

th«  wreck,  a  feir  of  the  more 


humane  trying  what  could  be  done 
with  the  senseless  roan, 

Dundas  stood  by  one  of  the  broken 
carriages,  trying  to  lift  it  enough  to 
see  how  it  had  fallen. 

"  Well,  Dundas,'*  said  ao  officer,  "  I 
did  not  know  your  carriages  smashed 
up  the  first  time  they  went  over  a 
gutter/' 

Dundas  was  a  little  sore,  in  the 
midst  of  triumph. 

<*Nor  I,  either,"  said  he ;  "and  I 
don^t  see  through  it  now.'' 

*'  See  here,  Mr.  Dundas,^  said  ()»• 
fi^ar,  with  his  face  in  a  light  blaze, 
**  See  here,  I  show  yon  through  it" 
And  as  thp  officer  and  Dundas  lifted, 
O^^r  stooped  down,  and  pulled  out  a 
broken  plug  of  pine  wood  firom  the 
wreck*  **  I  took  out  all  three  \  yes, 
all  three  king-bolt  I  took  out  all 
three;  I  put  in  three  wooden  pegs; 
yes,  three  wooden  pegs.  Yes,  I'egs 
not  last  long.     No." 

The  bright  boy  had  had  the  wit  to 
remember,  that,  if  the  wagons  were 
dismantled  in  the  yards,  there  might 
be  time  enough  while  he  was  gone,  to 
put  one,  at  least,  in  running  order. 
But,  leaving  them  as  he  did,  he  le<l 
his  three  enemies  into  the  lure  he 
meant.  And  the  wagons  gave  way, 
just  where  repairs  were  not  easy. 

"Good  for  you,  Oscar.  YouVe 
saved  Mr.  Jasper  s  carriages." 

Dundas  knew  that  Jasper's  name 
would  please  the  boy  more  than  any 
word  of  praise  that  he  could  think  o£ 

As  they  crossed  to  the  throng  who 
were  bending  over  the  senseless  Ger- 
man, — 

**  You  can  put  up  your  brandy," 
said  the  doctor,  who  had  stripped  the 
man's  chest,  and  was  feeling  at  his 
heart.  "  Put  up  your  brandy.  He 
will  never  taste  liquor  again." 


332 


Concerning  Preachers, 


CONCERNING  PREACHEES. 


BY   HATTIE  TYNO  ORieWOLD. 


"MAMKAr*  aaid  my  little  foor- 
year-old  girl  to  me  to-day,  after  I 
bad  **  plajed "'  that  I  was  various 
different  individuals,  and  slie  had 
assumed  as  many  and  varying  char- 
acters, "now  we'll  play  that  you  are 
God,  and  Ada  and  I  are  angels,  and 
this  room  is  heaven/*  Of  course  I 
endeavored  to  explain  to  the  irrevei^ 
ent  little  mortal  that  this  was  not  a 
pretty  play;  but  it  brought  back  to 
mj  mind  the  time  when  a  number 
of  us  children  of  a  somewhat  larger 
growth  used  to  employ  our  minds 
occasionally  upon  the  quegtion  of 
what  we  would  do  **  if  we  were  God." 
In  the  number  of  that  little  coterie, 
who  ventured  upon  such  lofty  themes 
in  such  matter-of-fact  manner,  was 
one  lad,  a  little  older  than  the  others, 
who  invariably  headed  the  list  of  the 
mighty  things  which  he  would  do 
under  such  circumstances,  by  saying, 
"I'd  suppress  preachers.*'  He  was 
one  of  those  irrepressible  boys  to 
whom  conHnement  is  torture,  and 
who  are,  when  set  upon  their  good 
behavior,  in  the  most  fearful  distress. 
And  liis  mother  was  one  of  those 
good  women  who  considered  it  to  be 
her  dtity  to  keep  him,  as  much  and 
as  long  as  possible,  under  the  drip- 
pings of  the  sanctuary.  And  his 
minister  was  one  of  those  long-winded 
men  who  could  grind  out  sermons 
by  the  ream,  as  guiltless  of  an  idea 
as  a  babe  unborn.  Hence  his  early 
antipathy  to  the  venerated  race,  — 
an  antipathy  which  grew  with  his 
growth  and  strengthened  with  his 
strength,  until  he  said  to  me  not 
long  since,  when  I  recalled  liis  early 
defiance  of  the  cloth  to  his  mind, 
"To  change  Micawber^s  description 


of    his    wife's    relatione 
I    consider   that   part   of  the 
are  not  insufferable  l>oreS|  to] 
mitigated  humbugs," 

Now,  I  am  far  from  agreeid 
my  early  friend  upon  this 
know  too  many  learned  and  ell 
and   fascinating   orators    amon 
class,  to  allow  the  first  allega^ti^ 
be  true  ;  too  many  e;  I  -x 

self-sacrificing,  and  r*  * 

men  among  them,  to  admit  the  L 
But  I  am  forced  to\he  conclu 
my  whole  observation  of  this  I 
that  they  have  not  that  ho 
the  popular  heart  which  the 
to  have  j  that  they  fall  far  sho 
usefulness  to  which   they 
tain  \  that  much  of  their  prei 
a  mere  waste  of  words,  and 
times   demand   something  mi 
better  of  them   than   they 
Let  me  not  be  understood 
demning  the  clergy,  or  as  unden 
the   great  good  whicli  they  no 
complish,     I  think  that  I  app» 
this ;    that  I  understand    sol 
of  their  trials,  of  their  ill-paii 
of  the  variety  of  tastes  to  whicli 
are  called  to  minister;  of  theii 
sacrifice,  their  devotion  to  theix 
of  duty,  and  of  their  thoi 
cellencies.     Nor  do   I   overi 
fact,  that  there  are  very  mai 
tiona  to  all  which  I  shall  say 
many  who  come  up  to  my  loftti 
of  the   character  of  teache: 
if  any  one  will  sit,  as  I  ha^ 
year    after    year,    in    the 
churches  throughout  the 
listen    to   the   average    mint 
their   ordinary  range  of  th 
think  he  will  agree  w^ith  me^ 
coDclusioiu    There  is  a  weariii 


1 

len 
no 
>p» 

I 


Concerning  Preachers. 


333 


d  fleshy  resulting  horn  their  monot- 
loas  prosings,  such  as  I  have  never 
It  from  any  other  infliction.  There 
I  sn  absence  of  ideas  in  mach  of 
bfiir  preaching,  such  as  would  never 
|i  tolerated  iu  any  other  kind  of 

elic  speaking;  there  is  an  hum- 
in  repetition  of  worn-out  common- 
in  a  vast   majority  of  their 
such  as  it  would  be  impossi- 
eztzact  firom  men  of  their  in- 
ability in  any  other  known 
lion. 

prevalent  idea  seems  to  be, 

if  a  sermon,  like  a  fable,  has  a 

moral  tacked  on  to  it,  or  has 

usual    amount    of   ready-made 

'  spread  over  its  pages,  that  it  is 

ght,  and  nothing  better  need  be 

of  it     No  matter  if  the 

I  repetition  of  words  tends  so  in- 

dy   to  somnolency  that    nine- 

bs  of  the  congregation  have  gone 

the  borders,  into  the  land  of 

and  the*  other  tenth  keep 

elves  only  by  a  violent  effort  of 

from  going  over  to  the  majority ; 

\  matter  if  it  treats,  as  it  often  does, 

subject  in  which  the  congrega- 

i  has  no  more  interest  than  it  has 

I  the  price  of  comer-lots  in  the  city 

t  Jericho ;  no  matter  if  the  minister 

through  it  as  he  would  if  he 

a  set  number  of  pages  to  read 

last  year's  almanac;  yet  if  it 

\  a  sufficient  number  of  theo- 

cant  phrases,  if  it  is  dotted 

\  and  there  with  a  quotation  from 

,  or  with  some  of  the  moral 

which  most  of  the  audience 

rin  with  their  mother's  milk,  it 

good  sound  sermon,  and  passes 

at  question. 

bw,  it  IS  my  idea  that  the  people 

and  at  onoe  too  much  and  too  little 

hair  ministezs.     They  want  too 

ly  semumsi  and  they  put  up  with 

lODs  of  too  infiarior  a  quality.  The 


amount  of  literary  labor  which  is  re- 
quired of  a  minister  who  is  to  preach 
two  sermons  a  Sunday,  year  after  year, 
is  altogether  too  much,  —  a  fact  which 
the  majority  of  congregations  do  not 
make  real,  having  been  accustomed 
to  expect  it  all  their  lives.  There 
are  comparatively  few  men  in  the 
land  who  can  preach  sermons  which 
will  really  have  an  effect  upon  a 
congregation,  when  so  much  mental 
labor  is  required  of  them.  It  be- 
comes drudgery,  and  loses  all  inspira- 
tion. Let  us  have  one-half  as  many 
sermons,  and  lot  us  have,  if  possible, 
more  time  given  to  the  one  than  is 
now  bestowed  upon  the  two.  This 
is  the  first  step  towards  increasing 
the  power  and  usefulness  of  the 
preachers,  as  a  class. 

In  the  next  place,  let  us  have 
more  of  the  e very-day  world  in  the 
sermon.  Eeligion  is  now  considered 
altogether  too  much  as  a  post-mor- 
tem affair.  People  need  a  far  high- 
er idea  of  the  life  which  they  can 
and  ought  to  lead  in  this  world. 
They  need  a  more  realizing  sense  of 
the  fact  that  they  are  forming  now 
the  souls  which  they  have  been  ac- 
customed to  think  of  saving  by  and 
by ;  and  that  the  education  and  cul- 
ture which  they  get  in  this  life  will 
go  with  them,  and  be  their  possessions 
forever.  As  a  general  thing,  we 
hear  altogether  too  much  about  an- 
other world,  in  the  pulpit,  and  too 
little  about  the  real  duties  and  in- 
terests of  the  great  eventful  present. 
Milk-and-water  descriptions  of  the 
glory  of  paradise,  and  purely  imagi- 
native discussions  of  what  are  to  be  the 
employments,  aims,  and  duties  of  the 
heavenly  world,  are  not  a  very  profit- 
able kind  of  preaching.  I  would 
that  we  might  all,  both  minister  and 
people,  feel  more  of  the  value  and 
glozy^  grandeur  and  possibilities,  of 


334 


Concerning  Preachers* 


tiiia  life  which  now  is.  That  we 
might  feel  what  a  boundlesa  posses- 
eion  Is  ours,  here  in  time;  and  not 
be  putting  off  both  goodness  and  hap- 
piness to  some  far-oil^  divine  world 
across  the  Jordan, 

**  L»  it  BO  smaU  a  thloj^ 
To  have  crijoj'txl  the  suu, 
To  have  lived  light  in  ihe  Bprin^, 
To  hftve    loved,  ta  have  thought,  to  hnx^ 

dOQOJ 

To  have  advanced  true  Mends,  and   beat 
down  baffling  foes,  — 

That  we  mmt  feign  a  Uli^ 
Of  doubtful  faiore  date, 
And,  while  wc  drcani  on  this, 
LojM?  flll  our  pre&cnt  fiUitc, 
And  K'lc^tc  to  worlds  yot  distant  our  ro- 
podel" 

Wo  have  too  many  of  that  class 
of  men  in  the  ministry  described  by 
George  Eliot,  aa  "having  no  toate 
for  tln3  finite,  hut  a  kind  of  general 
idea  that  the  infinite  is  the  thing 
for  them."  Wo  waat  them  to  min- 
gle more  with  men,  and  to  go  among 
them  as  men,  and  not  w^ith  gown 
and  surplico  on ;  to  know  the  every- 
day life  of  the  people j  to  mingle 
with  them  among  their  merchandii*e 
and  in  their  markets;  to  sit  with 
theoi  in  their  afH^iistomod  restirts,  aiid 
listen  to,  and  mingle  in,  thcnr  every- 
day conversation ;  to  know  how  they 
trade,  and  what  kinds  of  hargains 
they  drive ;  to  know  what  they  are 
thinking  about,  what  they  readj  and 
the  songs  which  they  sing;  to  find 
out  what  is  popular  with  them,  what 
moves  them,  and  how  their  hearts 
beat.  Then  let  them  go  home,  and, 
instead  of  drowsinj^  over  abstmctions 
for  t  he  8anclay  discourse,  let  them  have 
the  wi^ii^  and  tastes  and  thoughts  of 
the  people  present  before  tliem,  and 
in  plain*  energetic,  popular  speech,  em- 
b ody  them.  Th e  more  i  n ti  m atel y  the 
preacher  can  become  acquainted  with 
the  people  as  they  leally  are^  not  as 


he  imagines  them  or  tbeonz 
them,  the  more  likely  he  will  b«l 
a  word  in  season  to  them,  and 
them  along  in  the  better  way, 
is,  the  old  religions  cat ch- word* | 
lost  their  meaning,  and  there  is  I 
in   dinning    them    eternally 
ears.     Let  us  have  the  life-bto 
the  nineteenth  century  in  our  rell 
as  iu  all  of  our  other  thoughts, 
ters,  as  a  class^   study  theolo 
much  and  Imman  nature  too 
If  a  minister  has  bought  and] 
struggled    and    worked,   du 
week,  let  us  see  something  of  i 
his   sermon.     If  he    has  a 
home,  by  all  means  let  us  find  \ 
of  Johnny  or  Jenny  in  the  dt: 
If  he  has  been  a-fishmg,  let 
get  a  sniff  of  the  fresh  air  of  thel 
and  tlie  flavor  of  the  trout    If  I 
been  a-himtiug,  let  us  get  a 
of  the  birds  on  the  wing.     If 
been   to  a  circus, — and  it 
hurt  him  to  go  to  o6e  occasioo 
and  should  draw  an  illustratioal 
within  the  ring,  it  will  be  apt 
terest  ail  the  hoys  in  the  con 
tion,  and  perhaps  some  of  the  * 
If  he  has  been  cheated    du 
week,  let  ud  sympathize  with 
no  doul>t  many  in  the  audieno 
be    prepared  to  do  so;    and, 
good  tiling  has  happened  to 
us  feel  tl\at  also.     If  he  baa 
great  thought,  let  ua  have  th« 
if  great  though  Is  have  not  COQ 
us   at  least  have   the  real 
and  not  some  poor  af^rs  of  thd 
which  he  thinks  he  ought   to 
had,  but  didn't 

Let  us  have   fresher  theme 
There  is  certainly  enough  goingi 
the  world  aroun»i  us,  questions  i 
of  real  and  rital  interest  to  ef 
man    creature,    and    «]' 
about  which  w©  need  to 
to  give  the  men  who  make  the  | 


Concerning  Preachers.  335     V^ 

things  their  life-work,  some-  in  the  old  routine,  and  to  have  given 

sides  the  differences  between  up  all  idea  of  bringing  about  the  niil- 

m  and  Arminianism,  and  such  lennium.      Now,   their   work    muWy 

ng  topics,  to  discourse  about,  should  be,  day  by  day  and  hour  by 

II  the  churches  are,  usually,  hour,  to   hurry   forward  that   grand 

is  known  that  any  subject  of  consummation. 

1  evezT-day  interest  is  g^ing       If  any  one  wants  to  see  wliat  tlury 

L»cus5ed.     I  am  not  bespeak-  can  accomplish  as  a  liO<Iy,  hrt  thf;in 

!a:ions.     I  do  not  approve  of  look  upon  what  they  did  during'  tlie 

:  or jwils  by  clap-traps.  Ihcartl  war.     They  were  stirred  up  tlj<;ri  Vf 

ttrr,  las:  winter,  announce  in  the  magnitude  of  the  or-caniorj.     'i'ii«ry 

ni:3g  that  in  the  evening  he  grasped  the  thunderlxiItM  wliir-ii  w^re 

pre.u:h   upon   the   danger  of  at  hand,  and  hurled  th«rm  witii  the 

iir.      He   had   a  full    house,  mo;st  tremendous  elf -.''.-t.    So  o^.i  rl^^n 

have    no   doubt   more   people  of  citizens  did  so  mu';h  to  %;iv;   rh'; 

liTtf  been  out  hal  he  a^lver-  republic.     The   corarnori*?-*   of    ?i.*r.ri 

;a:  he  would  stand  upon  his  became  giants.  Men  wholja-i  [i.-' .*'.h«;d 

lea   ani   there.      A  Chicago  platirades   all   their  live-    \j'.  j ■.-•■»: it'-A 

r.  last  winter,  preached  upon  intoel-xjuer;;*-.   Very  or iiria. ■%-;,.-'; v,;i- 

?:  ion  as  to  whether  we  ^  sho  aid  er*  thriilel  axii  *'Av.ed  rh>  i:i*<-i^*. 

G'>J  or  our  grandfathers:"  Why  wsur  this  ?     riirr.ply  f<»*f:ri  ,'.«5  *Lh 

ijiib:  if  there  were  anything  ca-Jse  j»«frwe«i  thern.     No-.-.  '1-,  y-,j 

startling  aboit   tlie   serm^a  not    s^pvj-^.  thit.    if    rfi*-/    ^,:.':-A.riH  ,-• 

ih-  title.     It  is  no:  f.-r  ec-rn-  ^-tiilV.t ^zl::\2<  i  .:.  z\>r^ 

.■r  irreverence  t hit  I  put  m  a  :i:e~ ^T-rj.:-  e      '.r    ..■>--. 

I:  is  fyr  more  freiLLr??  i^i  i--...     ■  r-.y    \    .:.    .. 

zx-i  Vitality  of  tho":ijr"ir  :z;  oir  "   ~.i    ^'Z-:'.    a.  ;.■.-•   *.    - 

%  put  with  a    Hi -re  ^.'ll.-^i.il  lir-.-r-i  .-.   *  r  ■'■-   -  -^  " 

pilar  phra=^.'lozj.      It    ij   to  f  r  .._•-;:.--.-.  •■  -:  -  ->   .:. 

it  5«>me  of  the  o'^i  rra-l:t!.L.=  T"-'-""  *"- -  ^'' 

rrmoa?,  and   to  pat   ii.  zi -rr  rr— :  :.-,---.    •    -  -.■; 

^  real   and   practi'iraL    ajii    .f  ibi:    --  .'   -       '-* 

Liv  worth-  :.  *"     -       ,-.-.■  -;• 

p-Kiple  at  larze  ne^i  --••ri:-  i*--  :..    ---:.■    .-  .. 

ftzx  a  ibousazii  •in:.-lf  ii:    n -  i  :-t  .-  ■  /  -.j-        ^ 

:  i-i'-j*^*-?,    wli:«:r.    ir-      •    :-.r  •    L .-. .— • 

iai^-.irtaLoe    to    their   --  t —^^  -'--—    ■ --      »    •■ 

•  thin  the  metapr^r^.-jj  ._-   .—  -iwr..^..    i 

rbich  tbev  listez*  -j  vear  aj^-:r  -• 


« '.<, .  ■' 


eeau  to  me  tuat  :n 

to  a  kind  of  iil- 

Av  of  talking  a^'i  ti 

tliey  underrate 

of  doing  goTj^l  a^i    .f  r-r-'--- 

ihe  wo  rid.     Tlaey  aj%  a.-.r^-j*- '.  .*:'■ 

•thetic  in  the  masse?  vf  ?^:  jr::^ 

Mcm  to  go  OB,  j«ff  a±c:r  j^ij^ 


336 


Song. 


and  rampant  there,  no  one  can  doubt 

for  a  moment,  who  naads,  occasionallj, 
the  accounts  of  brutal  and  barbarous 
punUhraents  to  which  little  children 
arn  subjected  in  some  cases.  Or  that 
he  is  among  the  pupiJs,  as  well  as 
among  the  teachers^  no  one  can  well 
doubt  who  hat)  sent  a  little  child  into 
them,  a^  guiltless  of  evil  or  unclean 
thoughtiS  as  a  newly  fallen  anow*ilake, 
and  had  him  come  homCi  in  a  short 
time,  contaminated  almost  beyond 
belief  by  the  vileness  and  filth  which 
he  has  seen  and  heard  and  learned 
there.  Ministers  should  be  the  jeal- 
ous guardians  of  the  public  purity; 
and  they  should  lead  the  public,  in 
all  matters  of  education  and  culture, 
not  only  in  a  general  way,  but  down 
into  the  details  of  life. 

Again,  cannot  they  meet  this  great 
incoming  tide  of  doubt  and  unbelief 
and  denial  with  better  and  more  effec- 
tive levees  ?  The  world  is  getting  to 
be  full  of  doubt;  the  churches  are  get- 
ting to  be  full  of  it  i  it  visits  almost 
every  breast  occasionally,  if  it  does  not 
effect  a  permanent  resting-place  there. 
There  is  little  real  vital  faith  in  the 
great  heart  of  the  people.  It  ia  all 
questioning,  uncertainty,  a  vague  and 


misty  afiair,  this  faith 
Cannot  the  great  high-pr 
belief  give  us  rather  better  r^ 
for  the  faith  that  is  within  ( 
Why  do  they  not,  when  they  | 
to  do  battle  against  this  demon,  ] 
him  iu  the  form  and  gui^  wbj 
assumes  to-day  ?  Instead  of  fl 
so  valiantly  against  the  deafl 
which  formerly  reared  their 
against  Christianity,  why  do  th« 
meet  them  as  they  appear  in  tht 
field  to-day?  This  fighting  o 
tinct  Satans  may  be  easier  wori 
require  less  labor  and  obsen 
and  study,  but  it  is  not 
times  require.  Every  obsorriii 
must  see  that  Christianity 
ing  to  fear  from  the  infidel  attj 
the  last  century^  but  that 
has  taken  on  an  entirely  ne 
and  lurka  upon  the  threshold  ( 
heart  iu  altogether  new  shafi 
In  almost  every  congregatia 
sabbath,  there  will  be  found 
who  need  help  iu  this  direction, 
too  often  we  are  forced  to  think 
Matthew  Arnold,  that  we  mq 
for  all  of  our  aid  from  withir 
''man  gets  no  other  helpi  lij 
thousand  years/' 


soNa 

OsxY  one  song  can  I  sing,  — 

She  is  mine ; 
AH  things  with  the  echo  ring,  — 

She  is  mine. 
Ever  young  and  ever  old, 
Love  laughs  at  the  story  told  : 

She  is  mine. 

In  her  eyes,  I  read  each  day 

She  is  mine. 
In  each  word,  I  hear  her  say 

She  is  mine. 
Music,  roses,  light,  perfume, 
Fill  for  me  the  wide  earth's  room ; 

She  is  mine. 


Washington  cuid  Grant 


337 


WASHINGTON  AND  GRANT. 


BY   GEOKGE  BATLZT  LOXIS& 


is  the  spiiit  of  freedom,  the 
ad  for  a  repiesentfttire  gorezn- 
tbe  derotion  to  popular  right, 
■emus  of  the  Pilgrim's  Com- 
retltk,  which  oonstzmtes  ch&t 
uJitT.  obedience  to  which  gxrc 
KcrGTOsr.  the  fizst  of  oar  mfirr.anr 
masj  his  trae  gTeame3&  Th^^re 
been  many  as  wise  as  he  :  nanj 
KiTe:  many  as  self-possessed: 
f  as  honest ;  xnany  as  proden: : 
f  as  devoted :  many  as  sagacioos : 
fas  honorable.  Bnt  there  has 
DO  other^  who,  uniting  all  these 
ties  into  one  grand  human  -jt- 
Bttion  of  mental  and  moral  forces. 
leroced  them  to  snch  a  cause  as. 
r  ProTidence.  was  jJaced  in  his 
&  We  study  his  public  eareer- 
vhether  in  fiel-i  or  hi  vjiiif^Z. 
inar  deeds  command  our  aJji.  jrap> 
We  go  with  him  inzo  pri-iTr 
and  are  brought  in-o  the  c'utscc 
dignified  home  of  a  *Zzt'j^tL:lz. 
leman.  Would  jou  e^nru-r*  li= 
taiT  career  ?  Where  is  tie  r=--- 
of  ancient  or  m->ier:i  rlmts.  vie 
his  materials  to  bertcr  ii^az.- 
OT  who  diiplaye*!  th'j*r  >.T-r£ 
derce.  foresight-  ra.rI'i:T7  f  '^- 
>n.  :mj¥&tuosiry  in  a-iTasct-  ar.r. 
ness  in  retreat,  which  rtn-irrfe-i 
rToI^riona^y  campais::*  so  ii- 
?  W.MiI-i  you  test  the  'fisu^-rj 
statesmaiiahip  ?  I>-t  tie  rrn*- 
f  Cde^ar.  the  protecTori:.r?  -.f 
relL  the  coiie  of  Naw-ieofi.  '-te 
r«=^i  with  the  Constirurd':  n  wh-.h 
OTfrd  for.  the  Union  fjr  w"t..('ii 
ealed.  and  there  is  bur  oiie  ai- 
With  a  handful  of  :nez  iie 
one  of  the  gressest  of  modem 
he  made  a  ha2f<lBd,  liaiMuL 


h alf-discip»liaed  arsiy  renowned  iyr 
its  exj-Aoits ;  he  lyrwigLt  rrral  geti*:rils 
into  one  fntemiry  by  hi?  brtiad  a.i.i 
cc-mmandiig  wia^dcd  :  be  ur.:ted  rr.j- 
tee-  pC'Terrr-stricifct.  szxi  q-ihrrei- 
some  colonies  iz.to  oiit  p'r.fc'AL.T  dur- 
ing the  war,  a.i.i  iz-to  at.  ^zlzjJT-.  A 
indrj*ni=:i:t  State*  a^i  peopie  -z. 
peare- 

When  w*  rKn-rti.r^er  the  i;:r'nTXi- 
5taz..:es  iLtpirr  wiJ  .1  "vrsirtr.::.^.-^- 
€t::*r»rd  iz.'io  Lis  5::t':i*-irr    f  Aii*:r.':k.L 

ous  izipt-^es.  atZil  jf  i*,.?-.  r%Ho ::;■>:  >?- 
Totioi.  t:,  pm'  -ple.  Ht  hk-  r.»*B.*:i 
"^-'s  Ue  !^  ^~zr,''yir::.z^z  ^**^  >>w*ir  'if 
•]rr»:a^  Brirji  -  :.■::  :;Lj-.  rit-'-i**^-  H*s 
was  a  persf^ni.!  fr**^ -  if  L/^-  P  a,riiix. 


ifci,-  -..— rJ.L*    ■.  -.1*-.   -t   .-r<5-: 


-if     ■    .*-    J    •-•' 

-jTi*-     ■:•■-■  -    :. 


338 


Washington  and  Grant 


a  casual  observer,  George  Washington 
stcMini  at  one  extreme  of  society,  and 
Patrick  H<?iiry  the  trader,  John 
Adams  the  briefless  young  lawyer, 
Samuel  Adams  the  maltster,  and 
Paul  Revere  the  mechanic,  were  at 
the  other.  But  none  of  the  allure- 
ments of  wealth  and  social  position 
clouded  his  mind,  or  chilled  his 
heartj  or  blunted  his  conscience,  or 
destroyed  his  energy.  A  blow  struck 
at  the  liberties  of  the  colonies,  how- 
ever remote  they  might  be  from  his 
own  home  and  his  own  interesta,  was 
a  blow  struck  at  hira.  And  from  that 
moment  he  risked  all  for  his  country. 
*' There  ^  something  charming  to 
mo** — -thus  John  Adams  wrote  at 
the  time  to  his  friend,  El  bridge  Gerry 
of  Maaaachu&etts  —  **  in  the  conduct  o f 
Washington.  A  gentleman  of  one  of 
the  first  fortunes  on  the  continent, 
leaving  his  delicious  retirement,  his 
family  and  friends,  sacrificing  his 
ease,  and  hazarding  all  in  the  cause 
of  his  countrj^  His  views  are  noble 
and  diisinte rested."  In  a  moment 
the  pleasures  of  his  delightful  home 
were  forgotten.  The  sweets  of  cul- 
tivated society  were  laid  aside.  His 
smile  forsook  him.  Filled  with  that 
strength  which  religious  trust  in  his 
heavenly  Father  could  alone  inspire, 
he  bore  his  country  through  the  con- 
flict, never  disheartened,  never  en- 
snared, and  never  d fagged  from  hia 
liigli  mora!  position  by  falsa  counsels, 
nor  by  the  temptations  which  expe- 
diency always  sows  in  the  path  of 
difficulty  and  danger.  In  the  most 
trying  hour  of  the  war,  in  a  moun- 
tain cottage  where  he  had  sought  shcl- 
ter»  alone  andimknown,  for  the  night, 
he  was  heard  to  pray ;  "  And 
now,  Almighty  Father,  if  it  is  thy 
holy  will  that  we  shall  obtain  a 
|ilace  and  a  name  among  the  nations 
of  the  earth,  grant  that  we  may  be 


enabled  to  show  < 
goodness  by  our  endearur^  I 
obey  thee.  Bless  ns  with  i 
our  councils,  success  in  hat| 
our  victories  be  temprpdl 
manity."  Is  it  matter  a 
that  he  who  could  step  at  J 
the  luxurious  repose  of  i 
pointed  home,  into  the  ad 
devotion  and  humility  unm 
great  Christian  warrior  m 
the  freedom  of  his  people,  m 
secured  the  hi  r 

Was  it  not  h^ 
tionality  into  which  hewni 
gave  him  his  greatness  ? 

When  in  vieir  of  the  Ii| 
ers  of  Congress,  and  thel 
ness  of  the  States  to  comf 
most  essential  reqmsitio 
proposed  by  officers  in 
proclaim  liim  king,  he 
**  Let  me  conjure  yon, 
any  regard  for  your  counl 
for  yourself  or  posterityif 
'for  me,  to  banish  these  Ui| 
your  miud,  and  never  cd 
as  from  yourself  or  any 
sentiment  of  like  nature, T 

There  is  no  grander  pidj 
tory,  than  that  of  Washing 
bravely,  an<i  thoughtfully  1 
great    burden,    support  la 
and   his   country   alike    ^ 
cero  acknowledgment  of  I 
thought  of  the  hour.     Hc| 
men  of  his  time  seem  fc6< 
him,  to  gather  strength 
gust  presence  !     We  beho 
ing  on  from  State  to  St 
with  him  new  inspiratiou  1 
and   leaving    behind    hh 
counsels,  and  the  sacred 
his  own  high  purpose, 
solemnity  of  the   occ 
terance  and  expression, 
by  cares,  and  torn  from  Ii 
subdued  those  emotions 


Washington  and  GrarU, 


339 


nttn  together  in  the 
;al;  feeling  that  he  could 
d  on  no  humao  arm*  His 
Ukd  purposes  weie  known 
tself  and  his  God.  He  waa 
th  no  man.  Bj  a  majestic 
D^  Teserre,  he  maintaiQed 
Blf-oommand,  and  sccnred 
noe  of  all  men.  Call  to- 
0ommanders  of  all  time, 
i  above  them  !  Call 
in  of  all  agesy 
,  the  central  figure, 
of  human  boU- 
all  human  weak- 
Alit  ottt,  and  where  the 
1166  have  gathered  for 
1  immortal  purpose, 
Ihe  father  of  his  country, 
be  was  in  all  his  propor- 
dittigod  of  his  age  and 
I  a  broad  and  tender  hn- 
I  m  keen  recognition  of  his 
I  focietj   and  tlie    world 

gottde ;  Jtnd  the  ekmcitn 
hia,  that  N^mre  nn^Ht  mand  op, 
Iflllie  irorW,  7%it  is  aman!*' 

^engaged  in  public  affairs, 
rlumself  to  apiculture 
lity  and  skill  which 
model  farmer  of  his 
[  the  fifteen  years  prior 
at  of  the  Revolu- 
almost  constaot- 
tncreasing  and  ira- 
tei ;  and  his  home  at 
bo  wmd  the  abotle  of  great 
|iplfl€fl9t  and  a  liberal  and 
|dq^taficy.  He  had  great 
)  tlie  aaimaU  on  his  farm ; 
ieitne  and  after  the  war, 
iieli  time  io  ornamenting 
'  timttsplanting  trees  and 
tuateg  enlarged  and 
lit,  he  main- 
[>D  with  aU  the 
St  ttim  I   cultivated 


hiB  mind  in  all  the  best  branches  of 
English  literature;  and  in  the  graces 
of  elegant  composition ;  and  per- 
formed his  daty  ^itiifally  in  pnbUo 
and  prirate,  as  a  refinad  gentlemaii| 
a  cheerful  companion,  and  a  good 
citizen. 

He  was  fond  of  courtly  t^'Ie: 
his  coatH>f-arms  glittered  on  the 
panel  of  his  carriage ;  his  shining 
bay  horses  were  considered  superb ; 
his  dress  was  elegant,  even  to  Tclvet, 
diamond  knee-buckles,  ruffles^  and 
dress-sword ;  his  entertainments  were 
substantial,  elegant,  and  liberaL 

Washington  always  impressed  thoeo 
about  him  with  a  sense  of  veneration^ 
and  deep  respect,  undoubtedly  arising, 
Bs  has  been  said,  from  the  strongest 
moat  eTei^present  sense  of  proprie^ 
that  erer  human  being  possessed; 
impressing  the  obsenrer  with  a  con- 
viction that  he  was  exactly  and  fully 
eqmU  to  what  he  had  to  do.  It  wia 
so  in  his  own  domestic  circle  —  so  in 
public  life.  In  his  legislative  capaci- 
ty he  exerted  great  influence,  Pat- 
rick Henry  said  he  had  more  wisdom 
than  any  man  in  the  Continental 
Congress.  He  seldom  spoke,  but  al- 
ways acted  judiciously;  and  he  ad- 
vised his  nephew,  when  he  took  his 
seat  for  the  first  time  in  the  Virginia 
assembly:  "The  only  advice  I  wDI 
offer/'  said  he,  **if  you  have  a  miud 
to  command  the  attention  of  the 
House,  is  to  speak  seldom,  but  on  im- 
portant subjects,  except  such  as  par- 
ticularly relate  to  your  constitueuts; 
and  in  the  former  case,  make  y«jur- 
self  perfectly  master  of  the  subjcet.'* 

Wliile  exercising  this  solid  judg» 
ment,  and  maintaining  constantly 
what  has  been  called  his  awful  proa- 
ence,  lie  hever  failed  to  be  guided  by 
the  most  generous  emotionst,  even 
when  by  so  doing  he  might  defy 
public  sentiment.     We  are  told  that 


340 


Washington  and  Grant 


,  inr)iile  Robert  Morrb,  the  great  fioan- 

'  eicr  of  the  Revolution,  lay  in  a  debt- 
ors prison  in  Philadelphia,  having 
impoverished  himself  in  disastrous 
land  speculations,  Washington,  '*  un- 
mindful of  tho  pomp  which  await- 
ed his  arrival  '^  as  commander-in- 
chief  of  the  armiesy  hastened  to  pay 
his  first  visit  to  the  prison-house 
of  his  old  associate.  **  On  another  oc- 
casion, the  death  of  his  step-son,  who 
was  seized  with  camp-fever  when  at- 
tending him  a^  aide-de-camp  at  York- 
town,  his  manly  grief  gives  the  lie 
to  the  accounts  which  represent  him 
as  faultless  because  all  but  heartless. 
It  was  in  the   moment   of   triumph 

iimd  exultation  at  the  crowning  event 
of  the  war,  the  surrender  of  Corn- 
wallis,  that  the  news  that  there  was 
no  longer  hope  reached  him,  The 
anxious  watchers  by  the  couch  of  the 
dying  were  in  the  gray  of  the  twi- 
light roused  by  a  trampling  of 
horse,  and,  looking  out,  discovered 
the  commander-in-chief  alighting 
from  a  jaded  charger  in  the  court- 
yard. To  his  eager  inquiry,  *  Is 
there    any    hope  ? '      the    physician 

^mournfully  shook  his  head.  The 
general  retired  to  a  room  to  indulge 
his  grief,  requesting  to  be  left  alone. 

|In  a  little  while  the  sufferer  expired, 
/'ashington,  tenderly  embracing  the 
bereaved  wife  and  mother,  said, 
'From  this  moment  I  adopt  his  two 
youngest  children  as  my  own/  Ab- 
sorbed in  grief,  he  then  waved  with 
his  hand  a  melancholy  adieu,  and 
fresh  horses  being  ready,  without  rest 
or  refreshment  J  remounted,  and  re- 
turned to  camp  thirty  miles  off." 

Passing  from  military  to  civil  life, 
he  carried  with  him  all  his  judgment, 
rectitude,  honesty,  and  patriotism. 
He  retired  from  the  command  of  the 
Contineutid  army  amidst  the  tears 
and  sobs  of  those  biaye  men  who 


had  surrounded  him  during  tif* 
of  the    Revolutionary  warf  wlj 
stepped   forth  from   the  priTiW  " 
into  which    he   then  eateidi,  < 
hailed  by  a  confident  and 
people  as  the   first  presideEfc  di 
republic  which  his  sword  had  f 
As  a  warrior,  be  was  iaspir 
the  spirit  of  American  Indepeui 
as   a    civUian,   he    believed  ia 
popular  genius  of  the  Puritan  1 
mon wealth.     He  drew  his  sn 
popular     fii>edom ;     and    wfiefl  ] 
sheathed  it,  the  people,  and  wX  I 
self,  were   elevated  into  pow«r. 
ways  unmindful  of  his  owaj 
he  was  sensitive  and  earnest  1 
position  of  his  country.     Aadi^l 
breath  of  calumny  could  do 
barm.     The  cabals  of  the 
were    disarmed    and    scatt) 
more  by  his  sagacity,  than  1 
dignation  of  a  people  of  whom  I 
the  great  representative.    Tha  I 
ders  of  political  assailants,  who  ( 
find  no   nobler   weapons   cf 
were  all  silenced  by  the  hoDi 
high  purpose  of  his   admislst] 
and  by  his   retirement  from 
litical  contests  at  the   close  of  I 
years  of  service  as  President^! 
which  he  had  taught  the  world! 
great  warrior  could  rule  witlioolj 
bition^  and  had  set  an  exau 
tegrity  and  wise  and  modd 
manship  to  his  successors, 
reform  which   he   aeoomplishdd  \ 
his  sword  is  felt  to-day,  not 
the  existence  of  republican 
tions  and  a  popular  governmojlti 
known  before,  but  ia   tho 
tion  of    elevated   citisenshij 
the  rulers  of  the  earth. 

As  commander  of  the 
armies,  he  never  forgot  his  i^la 
the  private  soldier ;  as  Presidei 
the  American  Republic,  he  ncva 
got  that  he  was  also  an  Amer 


Washington  and  Grant 


341 


^  to  **  low  ambition  and 

he  eclipsed  the 

St  ambitioos,  and 

ipire  which  fare i go 

ranquished,  and  which 

^y  purified   and 

French  Mniter  has 

'  the  Amerieaa  Re- 

,  with  a  sneer*  what 

t  of  the  boiOiUl 

Ittenitore  or  the  tats 

The  great  repablie  can 

L  to  €m  modem  world  ica 
( peraoo  of  Washington. 
i  OMui  was  degeemKag  ioio 
bj-  free  nseiir  leaTing 
I  cksttned  to  grow  ta 
CiBflv  wasget- 
^  tfarooe  of  France. 
In  tbe  midst  of  the  Uoodj 
Mm  amhition  had  accnma- 
Mm  eoDBtrjr  In  the  haadi  of 
Mfj^MT  <»r  Napoleon  growi 
^^Hr  Waaitii^tioa  -  ft  grows 
SnSbiNB,  It  is  the  MM 
the  two  reapeetiTelj'  repre- 
M  i»  duappearf  ng :  the  re- 
I  of  the  world.'" 

t  &ofn  the  eooiteBi- 

lof  evesy 

>  has  pQl  Oft  hk 

ef  his  couitz^y 

s  ai  ^ 

ia» 

loflfce 

B  who  has  placed 

t  of  Ameiicaa  gen- 

I  at  the  pf  aitn- 


eoaotajt  let  m 
Iiigh  qoalitaei 


silence   and   sanctity  of   the    gnrm 
alooe  which  ean  soften  tiM  aereii^] 
of  criticism^  and  pTepnps  the  way  i 
a  just  nnderstaoding  of  great  daed« ' 
and   great  vinoeSw     Bnt   in  an  age 
like  oars,  when  one  day  ia  as  a  thou- 
sand jeais,  and  erery  erent  ks  a  cn6%  J 
and  each  histone  chi^ter  b  a  foloBM^i 
and  the  past  lecedes  and  the  tatmm 
appears  with  the  speed  of  lights  we 
may  be  jitst  if  we  wiO,  and  leani  cttr 
lesBOn  frcMD  onr  own  living  genen- 
tion.     And  let  us  lemcmher,  that,  if 
**  no  man  is  a  heio  to  his  own  ralet^^ 
the  £uth  is  oAener  in  the  vakt  than 
the  heio. 

It  IS  hot  a   lew  aoidii^  haidl/j 
yeacs  enoogh  to  he  ocnintedy  sine^ 
Cren.  Grant  stepped  £»th  horn,  tlm  i 
most  entire  eeclnskm  to  enter  apoaj 
hti  high  career.     The  oriinniy  nflhn 
of  peace,  eren  the  oecnrBpac<i  rf 
pceeeding  wai^  had  fnmislied  htm  no 
uppofinnity. 

We  are  told  that  he  waa  bat  an 
indifferent  buffiftces  nian.  I  can  eaeiljr 
imagine  thai  the  detaila  of  m  amnB 
Weateot  fiom  or  of  m  tanyud  flM^hl 
be  aomewlial  nit&tad  tod«t«lop  luf 

him  best,  knew  thai  Ina  ftcttkisi  wfM 
adapted  to  serrioe  whidi  vooU  ayprf 
mdmaiy  mm^  JIad  a^  tb^y  pMiad 
htm  Ibrwaidaake  eslefed  npoa  tim 

wofk  of  the  war ;  he  hiouelf  aahing 
only  a  anhocdinnte  place,  and  ejipeci' 

of  iIm  iat  d^  al  BkfMib 
cnmed  his  ifet  laaivli^ 
it  was  Gtani  who  wae  not  lahen  by 
sazpme.  After  tk  eihiisttpg  weeka 
at  Vidtalrafg^  Us  mIj  veply  to  m  * 
wn%  ''My 


XJponhiai 
nkoftheliT-   Genenl  and  C wwilir  Ja^AitJ  #f  i 
>  dead.     It  ii  the    all  the  armies  of  tbe  United  etatei^ 


342 


WasJiington  and  Grant 


being  ablced  l>y  President  Lincolii, 
**  What  ia  next  to  be  done  ?  **  he  quietly 
replied,  "Destroy  Lee's  army,  and 
take  Eiclimoii«l."  And  when  the 
triiil*  uf  that  long  and  weary  and 
bluudy  carapuign  through  the  Wilder- 
ness pressed  upon  him,  he  sturdily 
remarked,  "  I  shall  tight  it  out  on  this 
h'o«*,  if  it  takes  all  summer"  '*  All  men 
are  created  equal,-*  said  Jefferson. 
"  The  Union  must  and  shall  be  pre- 
served/' aaid  Jackson*  "  I  shall  light  it 
out  on  this  line,  if  it  takes  all  summer," 
said  Grant ;  and  **  on  that  line "  the 
equiility  of  all  men  was  established, 
and  the  Union  was  preserved. 

Let  it  never  again  be  said  of  him 
that  **he  has  made  no  utterances 
worth  remembering,  as  was  done  by 
Jefferson  and  Jackson,**  when  he  has 
given  force  and  value  to  their  words 
as  w^ell  as  to  his  own. 

As  the  great  thought  of  the  hour 
began  to  shine  through  the  gloom,  he 
a<3<-epted  it.  He  led  his  armies  with 
the  courage  and  sagacity  of  Washing- 
ton. And  as  Washington  hailed  the 
Declaration  of  Independence  as  a  new 
inspiration  to  his  army,  and  pro- 
claimed the  meaning  of  the  new  gov- 
ernment just  coming  into  existence, 
ao  Grant  received  the  Proclamation 
of  Emancipation,  and  planted  himself 
on  the  doctrine  of  humiiu  equality,  in 
his  civil  service  of  restoring  and  re- 
constructing the  government 

When  the  war  ended,  his  motto 
seems  to  have  been,  "Peace,  the 
protection  of  the  rights  of  all  men,  the 
exercise  of  federal  power  to  protect  the 
loyal  «T.nd  the  oppressed,  and  un- 
wavering allegiance  to  the  Flag.'* 
He  knew  no  master  but  the  loyal 
American  people ;  he  knew  no  terms 
but  **  unconditional  surrender ;  ^^  he 
knew  no  law  but  the  equality  of  all 
men.  Old  theories  of  government  did 
not  becloud  hia  mind  ;  the  offer  of  po- 


sition did  not  warp  his  jnd 
the  temptation  of  politics  did  i 
him  into  crooked   paths.    Ek  \ 
were  not  blinded  by  the  lighr  c 
noon-day  sun,   as   it    rose  lAtt 
heavens.     He   never  quest 
importance  of  all  measuKts  i 
give  the  American  people  all  tin  I 
of  vi  c tory,  "  T  he  Freedm  en's  B»i 
disturbed  others,  but  not  limu 
fourteenth  article  of  amendni«ntl| 
Constitution,    conferring   ciH 
on  all  men  born  or  naturalised  1 
United  States,  and  the  tilt6tfiitil| 
cle,  securing  suffrage  to  all, 
terrors  for  him.     Doubted  stili  1 
reformer  and  the  phLlanthit 
is  elevated  to  the  Presidency f  I 
bis  Inaugural  he  declares 
greatest  go«jd  of  the  greatest  1 
is  the  object  to  be  attained, 
quires  security  of  persons  and| 
and  free  religious  and  political  < 
in  every  part  of  our  common  co 
without  regard  to  our  local  ppg^ 
AU  laws  to  secure  the^  endi*  i 
ceive  my  best  efforts  for  their  i 
ment."  Could  the  most  arde&l  | 
thropist  have  said  more  f 

A  people  suffering  under  the  \ 
inflicted  by  foreign  powers  ducil 
civil  war,  turn  their   eyes  I^J 
Grant*s  administration  for  relii 
be  declares  in  his  Inaugural ' 
would  '*  deal  with  nation*  as  eqi 
as  the  law  requires  indi vidua 
with  each  other,"     Could 
diplomatist  eay  more  ? 

The  oppressed  in  other  la 
their  eyes  hither  for  comfort,  4 
steps  tor  relief ;  and  he  procla 
he  will  protect  the  **  law-abid 
zen,  whether  of  uativa  or  of  ! 
birth,  wherever  his  rights 
ardized,   or  the   flag  of  our 
floats."     Could  the  frientls  of  i 
ask  for  more  than  thLi  ? 

To  us  who  live  in  the  light-l 


Washington  and  Grant 


343 


the  position  assumed  by 
;  seems   natund  and  easy. 

not  been  assumed  from 
3g  by  many  who  thought 
nriser  than  he,  —  not  even 
lavre  the  good  of  the  coun- 
welfare  of  man  moat  at 
n,  however,  the  future  his- 
look  back  upon  the  con- 
&ge,  and  have  before  him 
;ulties  which  surround  it, 
the  record  of  Gren.  Grant 
tance  of  a  military  reform- 
Qg  carved  with  his  sword, 
x>nsciou8ly,  the  way  for 
a  great  principle,  accept- 

with  instinctive  wisdom, 
d  it  upon  the  policy  of  the 

he  was  called  upon  to 

ow  from  the  hero  and  the 
o  the  man,  we  find  in 
those  characteristics  up- 
nankind  rely  for  safety 
Without  the  gift  of 
»;h,  his  expressions  serve 
nrith  admirable  effect,  and 

to  the  occasion,  where 
deed     overshadows    any 

man  could  utter.  And 
lect  what  a  difficult  thing 
iblic  speaking  is,  we  can- 
ised  that  the  man  of  ac- 
lot  be  master  of  it 
«king  is  artificial  But 
ord  in  the  right  place 
ence  no  man  can  resist, 
the  battle-field,  and  there 
•nished  by  the  greatness 
nander,  who,  nsing  with 
»  of  the  hour,  possesses 
peace,  and  inspires  his 
rds  which  come  boraing 
brave  spirit.  Why,  it  in 
n  whom  you  met  yester- 
ndeavoring  to  express  his 
pablic  assembly  for  the 

beitowed     upon    him. 


stammering  and  abashed  before  the 
gazing  multitude.  He  is  eloquent 
enough  now,  for  the  occasion  is  his 
own.  Much  as  we  value  the  inspired 
word  which  carries  conviction  to  our 
minds,  and  plants  the  great  thought 
to  spring  up  and  bear  fruit  in  our 
souls,  —  much  as  we  admire  the  great 
accomplishment,  akin  to  genius,  and 
for  which  man  is  endowed  with  his 
highest  mental  and  physical  quali- 
ties,—  we  bow  still  lower  before 
the  power  of  great  deeds,  and  the 
simple  words  which  go  along  with 
them. 

I  have  always  been  struck  with 
(jen.  Grant's  simplicity  and  honesty 
of  purpose.  The  road  he  travels  is 
always  a  short  oue.  A  circuitous 
path  has  no  temptations  for  him.  In 
the  army  his  men  knew  always  just 
what  he  wanted,  and  did  it ;  and  this 
was  his  discipline.  When  he  was 
elected  President,  there  was;  no  care* 
ful  and  adroit  arrangement  of  a 
policy  for  his  administrati/>o«  JUt 
stated  his  position  in  a  f<(fw  a{#pry>- 
priate  words.  The  eveniug  Yftffjt^  \$%» 
inauguration  I  was  invited  to  hU 
house,  privately  and  sodul/ly;  zt$A 
when  I  ohjecte^l^  on  th^e  fiprffnufl  th;^ 
at  such  a  time  h&  might  U?  V^f^  tum}$ 
occupied  with  his  m«::i^)tz^'i  a^i/J  hm 
policy,  —  the  a^/ny  whkh  1  J*^l  mU 
nessixl  on  former  iiiw;b^rf^/.-4i(i/mA  »  kh 
political  pT*^lfh:u%M^  —  1  vai*  /|^i;^ilj/ 
told  that  all  that  iiju^l  Vm^  i,^vh  ^mU 
tied.  And  *o  I  n*::ut,  a^/^l  t//*tft^l  iim 
man  into  vh^yji^  f/^^/U  iitM  ^vy<^it#^ 
mtnt  wa*  to  j/si**  in  a  f^w  f^/Miif,  M4 

esjio^g-lii^  %eA   xMMXivt  kti^my^i  :   tU^^ 


344 


Washington  and  Grant 


good  sense,  his  knowledge  of  practi- 
cal matters,  his  self-possession  antl 
re|>ose.  He  hore  hiniself  in  a  manner 
eatirely  worthy  of  Lis  high  position, 
and  at  the  eame  time  the  '^  awful 
front "  of  office  was  made  subordi- 
nate to  the  more  admirable  and  im- 
|K)sing  qualities  of  the  man. 

In  his  republican  simplicity  he 
represents  the  genius  of  our  govern- 
ment and  people;  and  he  maintains 
in  all  his  elevation  his  intimate  re- 
lations with  the  ranks  from  which  he 
rose.  Whatever  mistakes  he  may 
make,  they  will  be  those  which  an 
honest  man  may  remetly  with  honor 
t«  himself,  and  not  the  complicated 
and  hopeless  errors  of  one  who,  la- 
boring to  be  a  political  leader,  be- 
comes a  slave  to  expediency  and  aa- 
^umed  necessity.  I,  for  one,  have  no 
fear  of  the  verdict  of  the  liiture. 

The  state  small  ship  of  Gen.  Grant 
is  the  statesmanship  of  common 
sense  and  common  honesty.  In 
his  last  message,  with  what  confi- 
dence in  the  ontiring  industry  of  the 
Araencan  people  he  bases  his  views 
of  finance  upon  the  development  of 
our  resources  !  It  is  an  honest  man 
endeavoring  to  pay  his  debt«.     With 


w^hat  sincerity  he  calls  u 
luctant  States  to  return  to 
with  citixen&liip  in  one  ham 
ballot-box  in  the  other ! 
orably  he  reminds  Gre^t  B 
in  arljusting  our  war-claims 
reganl    our   bo  dot    as   wd 
pockets  I 

We  are  told  by  Judge  H 
New  England  speecli  in  Xttw 
in  186*J,  that  Gen.  C  ' 
words  to  him,  but  a  few 
ous,  were :  *^  I  hope  to  see 
when  everywhere  in  this 
every  man  may  follow 
business  when  he  pi  easels 
express  his  opinion  on  all  sal 
and  give  his  vote  as  he  Ukl 
have  it  counted  without 
lested  or  insulted  for  it. 
can  all  unite  in  maintaini 
faith  and  credit,  our  polilii 
ences  will  not  Ke  of  much 
And  remembering  the  genii 
Pilgrim  Commonwealth,  thegi 
spiration  of  our  coantry,  wt 
Judge  Hoar  add,  "  Presidei^ 
is  not  in  the  exact  sense  of 
a  New  England  man,  but  hi 
to  the  glorified  New  Kogl 
is  spreading  over  the  contii 


ee  M 

lis  I 

liij 

:$«  m 


&m  of  One  6y  Balf  a  Dozen  of  the  Other.      '  345 


SIX  OF  ONE 


BT 


HALF  A  DOZEN  OF  THE  OTHER. 


ttkt   reader  has   already 

Xettie  Sjlva  and  Jeff 

Ffmuid  iheir  way  to  the  an- 

weoltkjr  city  of  Hartford. 

I  a  trifle  to  travel  nowadaj% 

oailj  say  that  tbey  went 

[llfiiee  as  pleased    them,  by 

Givyfonl    to  New  Haven, 

to    Hartford.      Nettie's 

i  lived  in  a  little  cosey  tene- 

owu,  in   the   southern 

city  J  and  Nettie  went,  of 

boma.    As   for  Jeff 

hm  ealablished  himself   at 

[Ikmll  bedroom,  and  "  Vived  in 

• "  bot  being  at  once  inde- 

soci&ble  in  his  tastes^  he 

a  acheme  wliich  was 

laecocmts  mach  more  agree- 

enluting  two  or  three  de- 

^ag  fpllows,  a  clerk  in   the 

with  him,  and  others,  ac- 

of  the  same  clerk,  they 

I  efliply  rooms  all  in  a  row 

Aoor  of  a  great  building 

i»ffic«0y  in  the  heart  of  the 

bttyiog  cheap  new  carpets 

'  of  fumtturey  they  fitted  up 

little  colony  in  the  air,  — 

bediooms,  and   a  fourth 

!  a  pttrlor.     Here  they  lired 

mirtli   aad    harmony;    for 

two  of  them  were  alike, 

dy  made  the  quartet  more 

ig  to  its  members ;  and,  aa 

aQ   nuutly  and  well^mean- 

mtfn,  tbey  were  in  no  daiH 

k  or  disagreemeota. 

pity  not  to  ac^uaiDt  yon 

iasi  and  jollity  tfaooe   Ibar 


had  in  "the  dove-cot, **  as  they 
christened  it,  and  of  the  serious  com- 
munion too;  for. thorough  good  fel- 
lows like  these  four  will  be  sure  to 
discuss  as  they  go  along  together 
both  the  funny  and  the  serious  sides 
of  every  thing.  As  for  JeE,  he  was 
a  sociable,  organiising,  and  suggeitive 
person,  full  of  ideas,  and  greatly  in- 
clined to  set  them  forth ;  in  danger 
therefore,  if  in  any  danger  in  that 
direction,  of  becoming  wordy  and 
long-winded.  Jerry  Bigelow  was 
full  of  puns  and  verbal  jf>cularitics  f 
and  he  therefore  tended  to  his  own 
proper  sort  of  tedioosness.  Punsters, 
however,  have  to  be  quickwitted  i  and 
thus  they  well  know  that  the  pole 
condition  on  which  they  aie  lole»t«d 
IB,  that  they  endare  the  ptck-poeket 
similitudct  and  all  maanrr  of  oiliiEr 
snubbing  and  leprobatioii  uaally, 
of  course,  admioiitezed  by  pepom 
not  bright  eomi^  le  do  vftai  Attf 
affect  so  greatly  to  dttfim;  m  ihst 
the  pretty  tmt|bffiD  eovne  of  tofi- 
nious  discoafagementi  witkh  hie  three 
com|Muiioiia  pioeided  lor  Un  no  mam 
diaeopimged  MMter  Jenj  tlb«o  tb# 
jeefB  and  aapeiia  ef  tfc«  hmtiim 
would  a  ptoQs  mdenfkiunMtie  miast^n* 
ary,  Ralph  Ysa  CMeo  wie  o^itber 
a  joker  nor  a  lalkef;  He  wm  bfliid* 
mmtf  daik-laeed,  »  little  alew  of 
^eecliy  and  a  ftae  cbger  «ff  nmny 
aongs  aod  baOadiy  wbieh  be  mxom* 
pttnied,  by  esr,  oo  the  gtiataf*  LmI 
of  the  hof  was  Abratn  Wtlks,  m  l«ll 
fbsen-liaired  fellow,  sleiKUf  erefi  Ub 
liaknea^  awkward  aod  qMeraefw 
eible^  witb  a  great  taete  lev  cfMMiihm 
of  all  kiods^ — sbeUi^  eoiii«y  eld  boe(M| 


346  •      Six  of  One  hy  Half  a  Dozen  of  the  Other. 


eggs,  any  thing  that  could  be  classi- 
fied or  even  put  in  a  row. 

JelFs  circle  of  friends  began  to  en- 
large before  he  had  been  many  weeks 
in  Hartford.  lo  a  town  like  that, 
crowded  with  ao  immenBO  concentra- 
tion of  business,  there  id  a  gathering 
of  both  young  men  and  old  almost  as 
busy  and  wide-awake  as  in  enormous 
New  York,  At  the  same  time,  the 
very  fact  that  the  city  h  small  pre- 
vents the  sense  of  loneliness  thafc 
pertaiua  to  the  New  York  sort  of 
multitude,  and  preserves  a  portion  of 
the  feeling  of  guardianship  and 
watchfulness  by  the  community  oreV 
the  individual.  This  is  a  wonderful- 
ly valuable  guarantee  of  decency  and 
uprightness  in  life.  So  Jeff  flour- 
ished and  made  progress  with  great 
speed  J  became  an  active  member  of 
the  Sons  of  Temperance,  and  of  a 
debating  society  connected  with  the 
Young  Men's  Institute  j  a  diligent 
and  inquisitive  scholar  in  a  Bib^e- 
clasa  at  the  Centre-church  Suiiday- 
ficbool,  sometimes  even  somewhat  to 
the  be  wild  torment  of  the  intelligent 
but  rather  conventional  gentleman  ia 
charge ;  a  useful  member  of  the 
choir  ^ — for  Jefl*  sung  a  very  fair 
baritone,  and  could  even  serve  as  a 
tenor  in  case  of  great*  necessity,  with 
a  little  strain  or  even  a  falsetto  on  a 
few  of  the  higher  notes,  and  constant 
care  to  sing  in  a  head  voice. 

As  for  Kettie  Sylva,  her  case  was 
about  equally  fortunate.  Her  aunt 
was  much  older  than  l)r,  Sylva;  and 
havin;^  always  bad  an  especial  fond- 
ness for  Nettie,  the  relation  between 
them  was  more  like  the  loving  ten- 
derness of  affectionate  grandparent 
and  grantlchild,  than  a  mere  ordinary 
collateral  kinship  in  the  second  de- 
gree. Aunt  Helen  was  quite  au  old 
lady,  wearing  her  own  gray  hair  un- 
der a  neat  cap,  always  dtesam^  \u 


black  or  gray,  precise  sktui  rigii  i 
ber  views,  feelings,  and  unt 
and  especially  high  and 
in  respect  of  goodness  of  1 
longing  in  this  as  well  as  79 1 
other  respects  to  a  elasa  of  whic 
few    specimens    are    nowa<bjii 
like  lofty  peaks  of  a  primiLivf 
tion,  rising   through    the  hoa 
ous  *^  tertiary  drift  "  and 
luvium  "  of  our  average  commit 
Her  husband,  Deacon  Tarboi,  \ 
dry  and  quaint  old  g-     ' 
the  oddest  prim  air  u 
of  a   precision,   conservaiiijiB, 
doxy,  and  careful  correctuea 
ally,   of  such   inexpressible  lig 
that  in  comparison  with  hiai,j 
poor  strict  Aunt  Helen  might 
quite  randy.    But  he  hail  a  j 
of  humor  of  a  high   and  drf  J 
which   he  dealt  out    6panngl| 
with  something  like  an  air  of  i 
as  a  miser  dislikes  to  see  coiu  i 
away    from   bis    fingers,   irrwp 
whether  gain  or  loss  is  to  folluK 
Deacon  Tarbox  and  Ami 
always  had   baked  beans  for  i 
Saturday  night,   and  the  dan 
fur  dinner  on  Sunday,  the  Litter 
being  sometimes  re-en  forced  by  I 
of  cold  meat  and   invariably  l^v 
and  a  cup  of  tea.     Jeff  bad  C4 
see  Nettie  very  soon  after  ihfi 
to    Hartford ;   and   the   youngl 
having  had  the  tact  to  ke#p  ' 
much  alt  of  his  ideas  to  hin 
to  assent  to  whatever  wa* 
by  the  seniors   in  the  war  off 
trines,  whether  secular  or  thcoH 
became   highly   acctqDtable    ui , 
eyes.     His  membership  of  tbt  | 
class  and  of  the  choir — as 
pened  it  was  at  the  Contro 
that  Mr.  Tarbox  was  deacun^ 
firmed  this  good  opinion,  as 
bis  coH>pcration   in   the  lcni|f] 
t^focux ;  and  thus  it  fell  oot 


Six  of  Ofu  by  Half  a  Dozm  of  lie  OHur.        Ul 


^rv  Jeff  iiif^aflwi  u  K«aae  s 
esooit  to  reheazBiis  —  s^  sucg 
J  the  wa J,  aad  &  good  iJlio  toD 
Sttardbj  eTeaiings;  bvt  itcaone 
^  recogaued  «vder  W  eremls, 
»  fihoald  take  tea  at  I>eftOQaL 
s  Saturday  ercBisga,  aatd 
ilso^  wiieaerer  \/t  cbone,  be  al- 

0  «a]k  boBte  widi  t^  fsjoilj 
orch,  aod  partake -of  tike  nKidr 

oool  but  saibstaiiiial  zcsgnJb- 
Aer  of  t^az  daj.  Ir  iiaeid  itftt 
that  at  rbese  mT-ihi'^li  c»ca- 
DieaoiRi  Taz^ox  alwn^  aud 
bl«th,^  and  Acrrer *  Simdaj^ 
gieaiiest  aenoBS&efis  of  waed 
ik  vai  a  aiac&er  ff  conzBe. 
ff  Flemmg,  a  Xev  Fiirgland 
ev  tliis  veil  fmwrgh;  iko  daiH 
ik  {jfieDdiDg  ia  tikk  ref^pBcc, 
a«be  ^mld  'vii^  to  pTEserFe 
d  opankn  cf  ll»  •deaooiu  or  tD 

1  toieTBifend  viikiii  ids  gases, 
wble  tliat  liik  rigid  lav  wb§ 

reLfcXtd  dmncg  tiie  Ssrcrdfa-j 
;  after  enziset;  but  tLt:  di&F- 
;  tbere  vas  kdt,  witt  bur  a 
I:  vac  the  old  Acboal  of  uir- 
es  aa  weQ  as  of  tbauiogr  -.i; 
>eaoQn  Ijirbox  bciiuicciid.  isiic 
OQged  from  Lis  Tciczh  up.  and 
;h  be  would  ccnitiiiiie  ti*  bit 
sboold  l^kat  be  a  TJnimagrid 
exioe. 

fiat  oocaaoiL  bvwcvo:.  ol 
Fcff  was  admicted  tC'  tbt?  dtij*- 
aprra^TtTy  was  a  wfstsk-dKj  ihmi. 
ifeiw  dajs  afser  bk  lurrruL,  and 
lie  was  qviGe  aerstied  il  bit 
■e ;  bezBg  a  dmiKZ.  tt  wiutu. 

inrited  br  Amu  Htiko.  w. 
tailii^'ly  that  be  cDuid  nii: 
rs2£e.  He  nnui  auet.  xtad:;-. 
(  gcivod  old  bkdx:  iibe  clil  mir 
ffiord  £k«s  everr  d»T-.  and  iiii> 
vaa  berfKLbcsr'ft  aecwnd  cuiidix.. 
ba    Baltfsr   f^  iaxitibh^,    ^ih: 


tbe  Soocdb :  and  libose  of  tbe  ^xfzi:::TT 
towns  efi^i6ciaI}T.  It  bdiuns^i  to  lib*; 
quiet  and  sfosadiaBt  cbacacser  uf  Aioit 
H»ilwii  tD  preserre  rlti^  aeitimwit, 
even  a&er  ber  iuelj  rtsasp'^  retsidtinoe 
in  1^  boFT  carr :  and  JeC  ruB^Kiiidfid 
te  it  wicb  tbe  TJraciiniE  ytKOtmat  uf  a 
ymeSli  wbo  fuds  imex|iect(td  fnends. 
Howprtic.  tbf  cbief  zoiBaii  lor  2»;card- 
Ti>g  -nbk  £xfii  diiriHsr  wat  not  so  mnc^ 
ia  btsmg  a  duiuonH&EKuifib  of  misunJ 
sfiEKniinL.  as  tbt:  itac:  tbai  it  g*T<»  an 
oppartiiiiirT  tb  duraiLiuHr  one  uf  I^ea^ 
eMm  Tarbfnfs  ciiamcfiucitftii  ft^ringii. 
If  tbe  iioeaBkiii  bad  been  fisundi^T-.  ur 
Sacmdm'  eyuuinc  tdcbtic,  be  wuiud 
bspfr  bxr::eL  mt  vwn  b«sad  uf  U^uie 
be  woind  bis^e  aaid  ir :;  beuiOffi:  rbut 
-one  Biibj(ft:r  mat^tir  wuiud  hw^  bbtm 
abaem.  Tb«j  bad  a  Jinuit  jiig  fior 
dimier  on  tntr  dax  in  (juemiuu.  uuccn^ 
leoir  and  touiLuMime  enun^  **\t  btrve  iu' 
flpOEfid  tbe  iismuus  ta^anitie  uf  <^ufurjim 
Lamb  UL  tbe  scbj^t^  and  wbfjb 
ijieawed  w*^!.  tbt  b«uhirj  ^uui^r  t^yii^^ 
zr.^  uf  Xitffc  Z^tfTiie  and  illa»cw  J»fff. 
Tbt  Tinmr  gyu'iwinai..  inu>;>;d.  ♦Tt^ 
pRMsw^c  iiife  wnimuvrAAn.  it  v'um» 
tecmb.  ant  aric^t  Amir  H»:i»?i.  iivw 
ail*:  'joui-  jHjiswiiijr  •nnnr.-t.*:  ;i/  jurv^ 
Utt'jt:  tru'jL  fc  mur^^Iiuut  ^numvi-  ^if 
tb*-  »uiiiuar^  art.  h*i\vnr  su*  uit  ;i»or 
(.imiL  tfu;  wnin*^*ff  dii*-  njetiii:  *.t  »ifc.; . 
uar  uuaiut  uil  uuriuaiit  »!>»¥•  *;r»;t  fuf 
b»5r.  WKL  i:**-  vsrr  ari*^r   tuuuif^r*     t. 

bit    niUHI    llT»i*:AMfr    ant    riMn>    U^^r-i^iiM^ 

wnL  aL  ern-i.  jdiff.nn.  u*  H»i»*:nn:.:'*' 
aiHiin  liM-  Tiirin..  inn    ii>».   uu^  v  t'.ii  ^ 


y.    *r!mr«*    v'ii*?i.    ^i 


l»«         »     Il'^if      «  **U|4- 


UiiT*i.     '.I**-     irriuc     0 


348 


Six  of  One  by  Half  a  Dozen  of  the  Other. 


Jt'ff  and  liis  three  friends,  being  at 
tlint  happy  ago  when  the  puzzle  of 
life  h  how  to  expend  the  aurphis  of 
it,  hastened  to  overhaul  their  skating 
tackle,  and  to  use  whatever  spare 
hours  tbey  could  command,  in  stay- 
ing out  In  the  cold  and  scratching 
about  on  tlie  ice.  As  the  march  of 
mind  had  not  omitted  Greyford|  so 
Kettie  had  learned  to  skate;  and 
Jeff  and  she  had  some  very  nice 
excursions  on  the  broad  and  glassy 
surface  of  the  Connecticut,  during 
a  **  cold  snap*'  of  a  week  or  two, 
before  saow  came.  Sometimes  the 
four  young  men  went  together; 
and  once  or  twice  a  party  of  eij^ht 
was  organized,  each  escorting  his 
steel-shod  damsel.  All  this  mirth 
and  jollity,  however,  and  other  agree- 
able tilings  too,  were  brought  to  a 
sudden  close,  by  no  less  an  event  than 
the  loss  —  or  at  least  the  irreparable 
injury  —  of  a  tall  or  stove-pipe  hat, 
and  the  co  use  que  noes  thereof,  which 
befell  as  here  folio  we  tb. 

One  blowing  Saturday  afternoon, 
when  the  early  closing  movement 
had  enabled  Jeff  to  take  an  extra 
number  of  hours'  skating,  as  if  to 
get  himself  well  stiflTcned  np  about 
the  legs  for  Sunday,  Nettie  and  he 
went  down  to  the  river  as  usual  to 
skate*  They  got  safely  out  upon  the 
Ice,  fastened  on  their  skates,  and 
went  careering  about  up  and  down 
before  the  docks  and  all  along  the 
city  front.  As  the  afternoan  ad- 
vanced, and  it  drew  towards  evening, 
the  dull,  gray  clouds  seemed  to  thick- 
en ;  the  north-wester,  which  had 
been  raving  along  the  river  all  the 
afternoon,  whisking  into  small  drifts 
and  win  rows  a  little  dry  snow  that 
bad  fallen  within  a  day  or  two,  seemed 
to  grow  stronger  and  stronger,   in- 

Bad  of  lulling  as  sunset  approached; 
whistled  and  wbewed  along  out 


from    under    the   heavy,  kmh 
mass  of  the   *' Great   Bridge" 
such  a  vengeance    that  it 
quired  a  good  deal  of  phick 
as  muscle  to  make  bead  againit  J 

Nettle   and   Jeff    bad  aior» 
once  made  their  way  defiantly  i 
the  bridge,  in  the  very  teeth 
Boreas    (was   he    north-ire^t  ?) 
then,   turning,  had  spread  ottt  I 
arms  like  sails,  and  glided  victoi 
ly   forth,    literally   upon    tlif 
of  thp  wind,  far  away  to  the 
standing  perfectly  still,  and 
over  the  smooth  ice  as  swiftl/ 
steadily  as  two  great  birds  in  \h 

What  it  was  that  made  Ji?f  i 
ing  wear  a  tall  hat  out  into  th* 
zen  hurricane,  it  is  useless  ta 
ture.    Wliy,  indeed,  he  wors 
any  time,  or  why  any  bumaa  I 
should  do  so,  unless  eorapelleJ  1 
sentence  of   a  court    of  jud 
Chinese  felons  go  about  with  ft  j 
plank  round  their  oecks,  I  f<Q| 
part  cannot  imagine.      If  the 
man  had  known  —  but  bow  1 
for  people  who  write  about  sad 
cumstances  that  the  persons  inj 
tion  do  not  know  t     At  any  rat< 
usually   wore   a   tall   hat, 
masculine  obstinacy  lie  wore  li 
By    means    of   the    most 
jerks  he  had  seated  it  so  fir 
his  head  that  it  might  weU  hav 
believed    capable    of    removal  I 
"  with  it,  or  on  it,'*  like  a  goc4l 
tan  and  his  sbiehL     But  then 
some  philosopher  has  profound 
served,  an  **  innate  depravity  l 
animate    matter.*'     This,     pn 
imperceptibly  loosened  the  haCi 
really  tremendous  cold,  in   sijil 
Jeff's  young  blootl  and  vigQ^ti( 
cLie,  had,  moreover,  begun  to  i 
feeling  out  of  bis  forehead^ 
substitute  the  cold  numb 
the  hat*rim|  which  tJie  rotaii 


Six  of  One  by  Ealf  a  Dozen  of  the  Other.        349 


to  mb  Ukem  fiuioolj  mom  tlua  Qiaot, 
£t«]i  the  rerj  teprfhishf  dl,  ^toagh 
an  Iu3  thkk  hair,  begiit  Id  fieel  ikm 
sharp  Inlei  of  the  rdiemtJkm  icf  wind. 
Aa^ier  diaa  mwrn^'  h»  githffn?id  Mi 
BtM^gth,  filled  his  loB^  fiill,  trl 
hk  iMflh,  and,  tiwog^  he  wm  alzead j 
fljiBgaioag  imder  t]|B  doable  SBpobs 
oC  legp  aod  taiBpeift  aft  a  ate  tieit  a 
keooMitm  ooeM  haidl J  hata  aatched, 
he  darted  JbrvacdioraBafiaal^ail — 
Jkad  vithbaialjtaialbra  oj,  ha 
flew  with  a 
down  cato  thadi 
of  Cknaeetieat  BW«iv  raiuBgt  vith 

ipead,  twn^  fa«  beTaiid  tU  te- 
theet  edge  «f  ^le  tliiM 
ant  hiack  kci,  dial  he 
Iha 


thing  know  all  ahoat, 
{Mwreated  him  &oai  know- 
it  was  beooming  loose.    Ver- 
§st€  there  are  abeohitelj  ao 
we  afe  told,  to  the  opera- 
the  gveat  aalaral  IawB»  the 
oootactiiig  hiB  head  a  little 
?    At  anj  rste^  jost  as 
ewtftljrdowii  to  the  end 
of    their  loogy   sointhwardlj 
whirled  loond    to    fight 
ij  ba^  i^ain    against  the 
noffth-wester^  off  weat  Jeff's 
howled  awaj  down  the  riTer, 
alocig  and  taming  this  waj 
I  if  it  were  ali?e  and  lock* 
with  one  great  empty  eje 
aiBjhad/  ware  ooming  aftsr 
ftuag  ap  one  hand  as  qaidt 
bat  too  late.     Frooipt 
ig,  and  not  ahle  to  affud  to 
new  hat,  he  merelj  ezied 
Kettie,  "Don't  wait— FO 
^^   and  sprang  Icstk  asfter  _ 

^^  ^  laaghiag  a  ao^eal,  CHAFTEE  XL 

Hb  fan,  bat  it  was  loa  eold  so  Wsiu  JeM  m 

PLTazaiiig  tlwft,  she  stradk  &s  water,  kc  aa  j 

Fr;^;.  7....*  raeslatest>oka,lDrdie  sbse-rsbottL    Wsj 

^  lew  seeoeds  was  eat  fiar  that  pwrpsaaAsaTh^alAs^gh  he 

^  JeffaUWcang^  pait  af  i  mis  nil     What  hs 

;  head-gear;  and  aao%  as  il  into  was  b«  whsa  is  adisd  aa  * 

amoaient  inafi^aaaw-  hidei*'  it  was  a  hnad  stdpar^ 

he  sTea  staopad  to  laj  haa^  «ta;  stHldMS«  aefn»    tb*  wiMde 

t m  he  afterwards  Mid  width  ef  dis  nsai^  jast  at  a  tan  ia 

Bg    the    experiem  — It  die  chand,  sdid  «hees  a  eoit  «<f  f%K 

I  light  in  Ins  iaotf  wad  hepped  fie  i 

It  heanded  aad  lAd,  at  d»e  hattam  had  Am  tmt 

00  broad  ^M^  ^iaoe%  aD  the  pMarssT  Jack  Fiast    IfcUs 

%y  lictle  aaptdiiBCv^  aalfl^he  ^    td    Mm  BMgtktMmt   liteadi 

lafeoai  thoag^  he   fpaidd  hssa  cntisaad  him  abmt  Chi« 

imp  lidiagiiMde^it,  handtaAe^sic.    IT  Ji  had  omC  bsatt 

»g    tmpextiaaiit    fLsUutj    half  dsifrj  and  if  he  hsd  not  bean  m 

at  Um  orer  the  ina*    His  aisad  aad  lafer  alKfat  his  hat,  o9  if 

to   tia^  aiid  ha  eaald  fomAif  have  imm^iM  tits 

U>  kae  the^  fadbi^  and  he  had  ezisisaas  sf  aqr  each  bds  «- Ui  ik«H, 


350 


Six  of  One  by  Half  a  Dozen  of  the  Other. 


if  for  any  reason  wLatever  Jeff  lifid 
not  done  it,  it  would  not  have  been 
done.  But  he  did ;  and  there  he  i», 
at  last,  scrabbling  and  slopping  in 
that  mush  of  ice  and  water  that  is 
working  and  rustling  along  the  edge 
of  the  river  in  the  very  innermost 
elbow  of  the  bend.  Instantaneoua  as 
his  plunge  had  been,  and  amazing  as 
it  waii,  Jeff  was  too  practised  a  swim- 
mer not  to  shut  his  mouth  tight  as  he 
went  under;  and  he  was  too  ready 
and  too  strong  to  be  either  terrified 
or  paralyzed  in  mind  or  body,  as  a 
feebler  person  or  a  leas  experienced 
at^uatic  would  have  been.  So,  with- 
out trying  to  free  himself  from  either 
skates  or  overcoat,  he  half  instinc- 
tively felt  the  truth,  tliat  in  that 
freezing  water  no  man  could  live  more 
than  minutes  ;  and  that  if  he  got  out 
at  all,  it  must  be  at  once,  Ko  man 
who  has  not  passed  through  some 
such  peril  understands  what  efforts 
can  be  condensed  into  seconds,  where 
the  jaws  of  death  are  even  closing 
over  htm.  But  the  usefulness  of  many 
a  long  run  on  laud  and  many  a  long 
swim  in  the  se|^  now  showed  itself. 
Even  if  years  of  life  had  been 
drained  in  that  awful  struggle  of 
two  minutes,  the  victory  was  cheap. 
Despite  the  skates  (it  seemed  as  if 
his  feet  weighed  a  thousand  pounds) ; 
despite  the  weight  of  his  heavy  water- 
soaked  clothing,  he  got  his  face  above 
watery  at  one  look  saw  tlie  ahni't?,  and 
went  rushing  for  it  with  desperate 
leap-!!,  throwing  himself  along  edge- 
ways, sljoulder  first,  not  able  to  surge 
his  body  above  the  water  to  the  waist, 
as  he  had  often  done  in  the  summer 
waters  of  the  Sound,  but  yet  deci- 
sively mastering  the  cold,  cruel,  lap- 
ping flood.  Ue  struck  wet  clay,  both 
with  kneo  and  It  and ,  just  as  breath 
and  strength  began  to  fail  together. 
No  human  being  can   put  forth  his 


very  uttermost  of  strength  or  i 
except  for  just  so  long  as  he  c»ul 
his  breath.  Eagerly  enough  hejci 
bled  and  slopped  his  way  om,di 
ing  ice,  mud,  leaves,  sticks,  wW 
lay  along  that  soiled  and  1 
gin.  His  laden  feet  ^i\v.\^ 
in  mire ;  he  was  bedaubed  wttli 
blue-gray  clay  from  head  to  foot] 
he  had  escaped  the  deadly  rivtr 

However,  it  was  only  to  enc«i 
a  second  foe  no  leas  deadly.  P| 
and  ready  as  ever,  he  forced  fl 
up  the  frozen  slope  of  the  ste«^ 
sat  down  instantly,  whiJe  his  1 
should  retain  some  life,  and  tri* 
skate-straps.  He  could  not  brii 
numbing  fingers  to  bear.  Hi 
out  his  pocket-knife,  opened  i1 
his  teeth,  and  cut  the  straps.  All 
since  he  came  out  of  the  w»t( 
skates  had  frozen  tight  to  \\k 
and  he  only  knocked  them  o( 
a  desperate  kick.  Then  th^ 
came  into  his  mind  that  it  w«R 
a  very  easy  thing  for  him  to 
to  death,  there  on  the  farther  s 
the  river,  though  within  plain 
of  thousands  of  the  city's 
lights.  And  —  as  it  ahvaj 
with  some  minds  —  he  thoti| 
as  at  once  horrible  and  ab^U 
he  smiled,  though  his  teeth  ' 
tering  fearfully, 

"  IVo  no  hat,  either!"  be  i 
himself.     But  he  did  not 
all  this,  by  any  means.     It  ^ 
his  mind  in  a  6ash.     As  he  ' 
his  skates,  he  sprang  up, 
coat    crackling    and    stiff 
picked  the  skates  up,  thrust 
either  coat  pocket,  and  turning 
ward  up  the  river,  set  out 
run.     But  as  the  wind  met 
seemed  to  craunch  his  face  i 
head  too,  all  over,  all  at 
something  that,   as  he    the 
more   like   red*hot  iron  thi 


be  i 

I 

t  a 


iSix  of  One  by  Half  a  Dozen  of  the  Other. 


Z'il 


again   a   qtiestion    of 
If  perhaps  Jeff  waa  in  no  less 
tT»au  he  had  been  when  under 
But  he  stopped   short,  tore 
nt,  drew  it  together  orer  his 
ifing  jast  room  for  one  eye 
.<Htty  mnd   once  more  struck 
run.     It  was  useless 
whether    he    could  get 
te  must  ran,  until  he  could  run 
he  reached  help  he- 
ms exhausted. 
\  perhaps  a  (^uurter  of 
llered  somewhat  for  part 
ay  hj  a  thin  growth  of  wil- 
,  fortunatelj,  finding  hut  few 
climb  oTer,   when,   as    he 
oppoeite  the  great  Arms 
\  Ym  b^an  to  fed  that  he  had 
hip^  enough  left  in  him  to  get 
the  heart  of  tht  city  and 
\  ]|&  toocos.     There  were  no 
0ght  on  his  side  af  the 
the  land  is   meadow, 
[desp    in    the    high    spring 
anj  road,   nor  liTing 


e*s  jcLst  one  thing  to  do,'*  re- 
tvfL  *^  mooes hece  aod  make 
|£br  Axmt  Helenas." 

tloo  doBie.      He 

down  tlie  hank, 

«ai  nad J,  Iranied  ost 

r^  Dol  witliocii  a  aort  ef 

fit^eroned  orei^  daabed  tlie 

!  hia  wmj  op  Ike  fiist  tnom 

,  allirr  aiHug  tke  nod  of 

anaC 

k^tolwafiaMlwlbx 

If 


"Who  aife  you?''  demanded  the 
startled  deacon,  —  not  so  hravo  in 
mere  physical  matters  as  in  those  of 
conscience.  But  it  was  not  the  cus- 
tom to  refuse  charity  at  that  house, 
though  it  was  not  the  custom  to  siJ- 
minister  it  at  the  principal  entrance. 

"  Who  are  you  ?  Go  round  to  the 
hack-door,"  And  partly  irritated  at 
what  he  conceived  to  be  tlie  pre- 
sumptuousness  of  the  applicant^  and 
a  little  dismayed  withal  by  lh*j  un- 
couthness  of  this  goblin,  with  its  one 
eye  j>eeping  oat  through  the  opening 
of  the  coat,  he  drove  the  door  to  with 
a  moet  peremptory  and  undeacon-lika 
slam. 

Half  dead  as  he  was,  Jeff  laughed 
within  himself  as  he  dragged  him- 
self round  the  comer  of  the  boose  — 
foTi  as  is  natural,  having  mom  teached 
soceor^  the  effect  of  the 
sixain  which  hii  frame  had 
gone  began  to  eooie  down  apoo  %im 
with  a  soddemieas  tisat  he  did  not  at 
aHundentaad.  He  teadiad  the  ba«fc* 
doo^  bowereiy  jasi  as  the  deacoa 
opened  it  witii  a  lalkar  item  -* 

'^Tktiis  tl»e  proper  door  lor '^'^ 

He  did  not  §aaA  bis  eeatenat.  As 
he  opened  the  doo%  a   tall    Igaia 

hi«,  aad  ilM 
ta  the  iooi 

what,  ism  heap. 
^Dcad  dtaah !  ^  aaCtaad  tha  Am^ 
to  hiaMolt  viifc  ihiiaaf  aad  her^ 

««i  «poa  tt^  it^fM 

tbe  deoK.    Tbm  n 

I  of  the  Umi^*  ^^*^^  *4 

ho  had  hif4  a  iUAf 


•aa 


hi  thai  fofjr 
a  Urn 

»9thliaK  Ui 
afSiafAMHWelei^ 


352 


Six  of  One  by  Half  a  Dozen  of  the  OOwr. 


whjcli  hung  hia  record  tbermoraefcer, 
aQti  inspected  it  through  the  glass. 

«  Whew  ! ''  whistled  tlm  old  dea- 
con to  himself, —  **  fifteen  degreea  be- 
low!  He  wouldn't  last  long  out 
there  1" 

And  setting  down  his  lamp,  with 
reluctant  hands,  and  a  fiice  puckered 
into  lines  of  contemptuous  abhor- 
rence enough  for  at  least  one  hun- 
dred ordinary  deacons,  Deacon  Tai^ 
box  bent  over  the  person  on  the  floor, 
and  essayed  to  draw  the  coat  from 
bis  face.  The  iirst  time  he  let  go  in 
astonishment. 

**  Why,  it's  frozen  as  stiff  as  an 
oak  plank  \ " 

A  second  stouter  pull  uncovered 
the  face. 

"  Helen,  here  1   Here,  this  minute  I 

Lord-a-massy  on  us!    It's  Jeff  Flem- 

ing!^' 

CHAPTER  XIL 

It  is  needless  to  describe  the  emo- 
tions of  Aunt  Helen,  or  of  Nettie, 
who,  after  delaying  a  few  minutes  at 
the  river,  had  sensibly  come  home  by 
herself,  rather  than  wait,  or  speculate 
longer  on  the  strange  delay  of  ber 
escort  The  emotions  of  Yankee 
women  do  not  make  them  useless; 
and  first  of  all,  they  set  shar^jly  to 
work,  with  the  aid  of  the  deacou,  to 
take  care  of  their  strangely  costumed 
visitor  Amongst  them,  they  hoisted 
the  young  man  upon  a  lounge  which 
they  set  before  the  kitchen  fire,  and 
stripping  off  his  outer  garments,  and. 
packing  him  with  hot  blankets,  he 
Aoon  recovered  bis  senses  and  told  his 
story* 

*'  We  should  b©  very  thankful  to 
Almighty  God  for  sparing  your  life/' 
said  tlie  deacon  solemnly, 

**  No  doubt,"  assented  Jeff;  and, 
as  the  deacon  turned  to  say  some- 
thing to  Aunt  Helen,  he  added  un- 
der bia  breath  to  Nettie,  — 


''  And  for  letting  me  get  into  i 
ger,  too ;  oughtn't  I  ?  '' 

"HushP'  said  Nettie. 
could  she  say  ? 

**  I'm  going  to  get  a  soft  hiiC 
tinned  Jeff.     *•  A  tall  hat  is  a 
si  on  and  a  snare." 

"  Still,"  remarked  Deacoo  Ta 
"I  have  hitherto  found  mine  J 
enough  on  dry  land." 

**  Deacon,"  said  Jeff,  '*  go  a-§k 
with  us  nert  Saturday  afteruo 
you  7  " 

The  Deacon  smiled  at  the: 
joker ;  it  waa  unnecessary  to  i 
thing. 

**  Well,"  observed  Jeff  afUr  i 
tie,  *^  I  believe  Tm  all  right,  < 
I'm  sorry  to  have  made  you  m  \ 
trouble,   and  slopped    up  yo 
clean  kitchen  so.'* 

**  Don't  say  a  single  wor»l  ah 
interrupted  the  good  old  lady. 

**  Well,  auntie,  Til  do  as  mfl 
you  some  time,  then,     I  guess  \ 
up  street  now,  at  any  rate,'* 
essayed  to  rise,  but  sank  back,  | 
ing  up  at  Aunt  Helen  with  a  fa* 
such   queer  astonishment    that , 
laughed^ 

"  You'll  go  straight  to  bed^f 
what  you'll  do,"  said  ehe,  with  < 
ion ;  **'  and  lie  there  all  day  s 
row,  if  necessary,  too.     Nettie^  ^ 
and  help  me  get  the  south 
ready." 

In  truth,  the  young  man's  at 
seemed  to  have  dissolved  away  i 
it  had  melted  with  the  ice 
clothes.  His  band  would 
close  on  the  back  of  the  lounge|] 
tried  to  help  himself  to  a  aittin 
tnre;  he  seemed  to  have  no 
bis  legs  be  could  banlly  move 
And  as  besides  be  began  now 
intoleimbly  sleepy,  be  waj  quital 
ble  to  oppose  tlie  purpose  of  bis  1 
even  if  it  bad  been  less  obviously  I 


jSia:  of  One  by  Half  a  JDozen  of  the  Other.         353 


it  was.  So  tbej  got  oot 
looed  warmtDg-pan,  and 
wMi  genial  warmth  tho  cool 
r  the  great  old-&fihiaQed  bed 
IgiMflt-chambor^  made  a  nice 
in  the  rtore  j  and  then  de- 
le deacon  to  act  a^  bid  ''  grim 
daiti^^  and  see  the  patient 
der  the  bed-clotfaes.  Even 
I  deacon's  aid,  it  wa«  not 
m  good  deal  of  effort  that 
irled  op  stairs,  nodreeaed 
aad  got  into  bed. 

moph  ksMyWf  when  thej  stop 

how  long  they  are  to 

cadled  at  Aunt  Helen's  to 

And  warned,  as  the  great 

Ilr.  Inae  Watts  went  to 

Abne/s  £nr  a  visit     He 

the  famous  dirine,  stay 

•mtid  at  last  die  in  these 

18,  bat  he  staid  aU  nigbt, 

atmid  ten  weeks;  and   he 

anoagfa  to  dying,  besides. 

'iMifllliig  he  was  taken  with 

iBrp  jmrrta  in  his  chest,  —  in- 

ip  all  of  a  sudden  to- 

with  a  howl  evoked 

Unt  of  them,  and  that  evoked 

a  coopU  of  extzaoidtDary  dd 

tm  while  to  llts  fcidsade  in  a 

Qg — to  wit,  the  deacoQ  and 

afbcix.     Thei^  was  no  help  for 

;  the  old  lady,  an  experi- 

^%  mid  it  was  — to  me  her 

— petnpao^ynmmy.  She  was 

the   diagnoeit,  loot,  dmigh 

^T,t  US  to  oofaeDeiatiire.     Af- 

toof  h  siege  inth  flannela 

in  tiOt  wattr,  the  doctor  eamc^ 

r^aaiinmg  the  patieiit  aiMl 

•'    ttofT,   looked    wclkmM^ 

. .,  ttd,  after  getting  down 

pnestioaad  Aimt  Helen  doaely 

faanly  tendencies  to  Itmg 

'  ^iCfv  bad  bees  one  or  two 

I  appenmdi  within  a 


tion  or  two.  "Then,"  said  the  doc- 
tor, "  we  must  be  all  the  more  care- 
ful ;  that's  all  One  thing  is  in  hia 
favor,  —  he  has  plenty  of  strength, 
and,  I  judge,  perfectly  clean  health. 
So  no  need  to  be  frighten^  at  pres- 
ent, thoagh  he^s  a  V^*^^^y  »ick  man." 

You  see,  iJie  doctor  knew  Aunt 
Helen.  Doctors  will  talk  pretty  plain* 
ly  to  people  that  they  know  an;  M^e; 
none  are  more  eloao-moathed,  how* 
ever,  to  fools. 

Well,  Jeir  had  a  long  light  with 
the  cruel  enemy  that  had  miizM  him^ 
As  often  happens  where  people  haf« 
never  been  sU,  diaeaae  aeemed  to  t^ko 
his  physical  firame  hy  suififise,  and  to 
master  it  and  ravage  it  befote  tt  could 
organise  its  defence,  like  a  horde  of 
barbarians  swooping  down  withont 
noliee  upon  a  wealthy  and  peacefttl 
land.  When  once,  however,  tin?  as- 
sault was  exhausted,  thoogh  it  left 
him  for  the  timt  being  a  mere  phao« 
torn  of  himself,  Eia  recovery  waa 
steady  and  oatnraL  AH  the  tinM  ho 
was  inceasantiy  nuTsed  and  petted  hf 
die  deacon  and  the  two  women. 
Their  care,  the  doctor  said,  certatniy 
skottcmed  hie  tmptiaonBent  a  ferl* 
night ;  and  he  joeoeely  threatened  to 
ooQact  of  then  a  vattable  addition  to 
hie  hm,  Xhroo^ftOiit  tlit  first  Bimgt 
of  die  dieenee,  Aem  was  nothing  Ibr 
them  to  do  ezoept  to  he  strict  rn  M* 
lowing  die  doctor^e  direction^  and  to 
wait  Bat  when  the  danger  and  tht 
pain  were  of«fl>  and  the  tine  canio 
when  only  wealmtae  was  kft,  and  tho 
sick  man  could  begin  by  tiny  grada^ 
tione  to  femuDe  eomeihing  of  the  €0* 
joying  pait  of  Ii&,  Ao^  at  flm 
widi  a  pMeiveneae  flsach  mora  con* 
fOete  than  tlttt  of  an  iofiuily  dien 
came  the  evptre  of  the  womtn.  Ks- 
€«pt  the  traneactwoe  of  a  oodMT  ofcr 
her  dkOd,  Boddng  cui  exoeed  d^'' 
anthonty,  nm 


d^'         j 


354        Six  of  One  by  Half  a  Dozen  of  the  Other. 


of  fulfilling  a  destiny^  wbtch  a  woman 
displays  in  tending  a  sick  person^  — 
>  more  especially  if  it  is  a  favorite  and 
fft  man.  Why  not?  As  the  stoical 
stock-broker  observed  on  bearing  the 
roar  of  the  lions,  *'  Let  ^gwp  roar^  for 
that's  their  biz."  Kor  was  the  dea- 
con a  whit  behindhand,  a<;corcling  to 
bis  lights.  To  be  sure,  he  would  have 
made  a  very  poor  tist  at  dii<playing 
the  occaj^ional  bouquets  of  hot-house 
flowers  with  which  Nettie  used  now 
and  then  to  beautify  the  room ;  and 
as  he  was  one  of  those  opprobriums 
of  tlie  late  Lowell  Miison,  who  can't 
sing,  nor  learn  to  sing,  iiny  more 
than  a  three-cornered  tile  working 
^across  a  handsaw,  so  be  would  have 
^made  wild  work  with  Nettie's  ever 
ready  songs.  Nor  could  be  compound 
the  magical  confections  of  every  kind, 
wherewith  dear  old  Aunt  Helen  used 
to  gratify  bis  appetite,  that  grew 
more  and  more  ravenous  as  he  gath- 
ered strengtli,  the  old  lady  sitting  by 
in  the  extremest  happiness  while  he 
demolished  in  iiv©  minutes  some  deli- 
cacy whose  harmless  and  nourishing 
yet  ilavorsome  quality  bad  occupied 
her,  more  or  less,  very  likely,  for  Iialf 
a  day. 

But  the  deacon  could  talk,  and  he 
could  read  aloud ;  and,  when  Jeff 
gathered  strength  enough,  he  used  to 
I  take  his  turn  in  these  employments 
with  the  ladies;  and  the  kind  old  soul 
was  just  as  happy  in  it  as  they  were. 
**  You  are  three  angels,  yoa  three,*' 
said  Jeff  one  day,  as  they  all  stood  at 
bis  bedside.  "  I  didn*t  know  there 
were  any  such  people  in  the  world." 
And  the  tears  stood  in  his  eyes ;  for 
when  one  is  so  very  weak,  one  cries 
very  easily.  However,  Jeff  laughed 
too,  though  rather  feebly,  and  fin- 
ished bis  extravaganza,  "  When  you 
"^*-*H?e  get  to  heaven,  you  won't  know 
liflerence,  for  you  can't  be  a  bit 


better  than  you  are  now,  and 
won't  find  you're  a  bit  better  tH 
of.  Angels  are  plenty  tlieiv; 
here,  where  you  aro  needed.'* 

As  for  the  choice  of  reatlina:,  Sd 
brought   mild   ne^v  novels  fmto 
Young  Men's  Institute  Library, 
got  pretty  much  wbatev<      ' 
from  kindbearted  Mr.    1 
the  sake  of  the  sick  mau,  whu  j 
one  of  his  constituents,  and  a  (4 
ite,  —  as  he  was,  in  fact,  wilh< 
body  who  knew  bim*     Auat  Hd 
used  to  listen  a  while,  somrtimft 
these  wonderful  productians  ;  hut| 
sound  sense  and  practical  pietj ' 
usually  unable  to  bear  the  uniiJi 
atmosphere   very   long.      Sb« 
shake  her  head,  and  rise  and  if 
saying,  tlmt,  for  her  part,  she  tha 
that  there  must  be  a  special 
dence  for  young  folks    Dowadaj 
preserve  them  through  all  the  1 
sense  they  read.     Her  selections  ^ 
difJerent ;  she  often  chose  somo  1 
of  travels  in  the   Holy  Land  or  J 
East;   such  as  Warren's  *•  ] 
of  Jerusalem,*'  which,  in  spite  i 
dry   method   and   confused 
raent,    she   read  —  as    \t 
with  close  attention  and  :^ 
from  titlepage  to  Jinis,      The 
of  the  wonderful  Moabit      "  ~' 
enchanted  her,  Jeff  in^i 
as  **  Robinson  Crusoe  *'  or  the  ' 
an  Nights  '*  does  a  small  boy. 
Kawlinson'a  *^Five   Great   Mdq^ 
ies,^*  and  any  other  books  she  coul 
hold  of,  of  the  class  which 
called    unintentional    illustratiu 
Scripture.      And,    indeed,    ibey  j 
the  best  supports  and  the  be%t  i 
raentariea   on   that   wonderful 
the   unitary  and   eymrat^trifal  be 
growth  and  cbronicl 
dred  years  of  the  « 
and  of  God*6  words  and  works  ti 
bim.     The   deacon,  agatHf 


Six  of  One  hy  Half  a  Dozm  of  the  Other.        355 


Ijftr^j  di^Tent  department;  and, 
!  tlie  vmjT,  Jeff  showed  lib  natural 
Bl — iiii1e«s  it  was  merely  the  lan- 
pt«i?ei»eds  of  ao  im^alid  —  ia 
hk  three  angels  to  choose 
pespectiTc  fields  whereiii  to 
The  deacon  always  read 
intlj,  the  daily  paper,  —  one 
Ofk  Ode  and  one  Hartford  one, 
otaDj  a  fihre^vd  and  dry  com- 
did  he  make  upon  the  chroni* 
ercotii,  and  then  upon  the  use 
the  editors^  those  prophets  of 
i^eenth  century,  made  of  them 
editorial  columns.  When  this 
I  enoogh,  —  to  tell  the  truth  it 
was, — ^the  good  old  man  used 
upon  Jeff  hia  greatest  lit* 
r.  That  is  to  »y,  he  would 
to  him  his  own  daily  portion, 
always  took  in  course^  of  the 
of  the  Old  and  New  Tea- 
by  that  preat  and  sound 
the  BeF.  Matthew  Henry. 
BoouiDeQtal  work,  the  worthy 
a  noble  copy  of  the 
(ioi)  of  1761,  in  five  vol- 
In  this  instructive  com- 
the  deacon  was  a«:cudtomed 
soitahte  portion  every  even- 
family  prayers,  sometimes 
and.  occasionally,  when  he 
Bome  striking  passage, 
good  of  whomsoever  it 
»m,  Wo  wonder  the  dea- 
tt,  aod  had  already  read  it 
in  o(yftt9«  thr&e  times,  hcing 
aiwaxsed  in  the  fourth ;  for^ 
aa  leeoatomed  to  say  with 
thwkfitlnesSf  it  was,  under 
to  the  weighty  reasonings 
wfui  afipUcations  of  that  book, 
yoath  he  bad  been  brought 
ing  sense  of  his  lost  state, 
ly  to  a  trembling  hope 
f  bad  tftid  hst  hold  upon  eter- 
It  used  to  pat  Jeff  asleep. 
ig  bae  ihod  far  been  said  of 


two  concern ments  wherewith  it  might 
seem  that  Jefif  should  have  had  some- 
thing to  do  daring  this  iUness  of  his ; 
namely,  his  own  famUy,  and  Jaoe 
Burgess.  Beaaon  enough  :  Jeff  had 
no  family;  and  it  was  this  solitaiy 
position  of  his  in  the  world  which 
caused  the  simple^  hearty,  genuine, 
old-fashioned  New  England  kindneea 
of  Deacon  Tarboi's  family  to  make 
all  the  more  impression  upon  him. 
Both  his  parents  had  died  long  ago ; 
he  had  indeed  been  brought  up  in 
great  measure  by  some  excellent 
people,  who  had  been  friends  of 
his  father  and  mother,  and  who 
treated  him  with  helpful  kindness, 
and  shrewdly  managed  his  little  in- 
heritance. But  they  were  not  letter- 
writing  persona ;  and,  in  fact,  neither 
were  Beacon  nor  Mrs.  Tarbox,  The 
news  of  Jeffs  illness  went  to  Grey- 
ford  in  Nettie's  letters  to  her  father, 
therefore  but,  as  the  young  man  was 
in  the  best  possible  hands,  neither 
letters  nor  visits  were  made  necessary, 
and  none  came.  As  for  Jane  Bur- 
gess, she  was  also  far  less  of  a  letter- 
writer  than  Kettie  or  Rachel.  Be- 
sides, she  was  enveloped  —  as  all  of 
us  are  in  this  world  —  in  webs  of 
circumstance;  things  had  been  hap- 
pening to  her  in  Boston,  for  an  ac- 
count of  which  the  reader  is  referred 
to  the  next  forthcoming  number  of 
**  Old  axd  New." 

After  Jeflf  Fleming  had  removed  to 
his  own  room  at  the  Dove-cot  again, 
had  resumed  his  usual  employment  at 
the  store,  and  was  rapidly  laying  hold 
once  more  upon  all  the  avocations  of 
his  busy  life,  it  was  natural  that  he 
should  still  feel  far  more  as  if  Dea- 
con Tarbox's  house  was  his  home, 
than  as  if  he  was  a  stranger  there ;  so 
he  was  at  the  house  even  more  fre- 
quently than  before  his  illness,  with 
or  without  any  excuse. 


Six  of  One  by  Half  a  Dozen  of  the  Other.  357 


'  masician  attering  the  name- 
earnings  of  his  mystic  Oriental 
unid  the  rich  influences  of  sonny 
irds  and  glorious  riyers  in  the 
land  of  Hungary. 

Nettie!"    said    Jeff;    "once 

please."  Music  which  is  yeiy 
fol  calls  upon  those  who  are 
Te  to  ity  with  a  voice  that  is 
;  a  sharp  pain.     It  searches  the 

of  pure  emotion,  very  h^r  he- 
e  shallow  ripples  of  criticising 
«nt  or  even  of  conscious  obser- 
Jeff  Fleming's  Toice  was  un- 
f  but  the  trifling  words  were  full 
dingy — if  ple^ading  had  been 
kry.  In  truth,  the  very  lorely 
was  breaking  the  ice  in  another 
than  that  of  the  wintry  river; 
ettie,  who  felt  the  music,  per- 
even  more  than  he,  without 
ig  it,  felt  that  there  was  more 
ig  in  the  request  than  merely 
few  measures  of  music.  She 
d  slightly,  but  only  answered, — 
s,  certainly."  Could  she  hare 
double  meaning?  Could  she 
It  —  not  perceived — any  un- 

wisbes  from  her  companion? 
le  played  the  piece  again,  the 
^  firm  fingering,  the  unusually 
movements    of     her    shapely 

fingers  upon  the  keys,  adding 
uiious  magic  to  the  music 
lepends  upon  the  appearance 
lucing  much  effect  with  little 
This  time,  neither  of  them 
rord ;  but  each  knew  that  the 
as  greatly  moved, 
tout  speaking,  Nettie  modu- 
bzough  a  few  soft  chords, 
a  moment^  and  played  another 


piece,  belonging  in  the  same  chapter 
of  sentiment  with  the  former,  yet 
sidder.  It  was  so  mnch  more  mel- 
ancholy, in  hctj  that  when  the  last  soft 
cadence  ended,  and  Nettie's  hands  lay 
motionless  upon  the  keys  of  the  final 
chord,  Jeff  said,  as  if  q^eaking  to 
himself  — 

«  Why  —  it  is  an  fuQ  of  teara." 
Nettie,  with   a  little  start,  tamed 
back  the  open  lea^  and  pointed  to  the 
title.     ^  Les  Larmes,^  it  read. 

She  looked  up  ooce  mofe,  into  JeWB 
facBy  half  turning  round  upon  tl^ 
piano-stooL  Jeff  ooold  see  that  her 
long  daric  eyelashes  were  wet. 

^Do  you  feel  it  so  modb  too?" 
he  asked. 

^  Indeed,  yes,"  she  said ;  ai^  add- 
ed, with  her  sunshiny  smile,  ^  Bot 
if  yoa  can  teQ  so  well  wh^  the  musie 
says,  what  was  the  other  ?  " 

The  witch!  I  half  believe  she  Iomv 
what  she  was  aboat.  Jeff  look^ 
down  into  her  eyes  §x  a  mtyment. 
"May  I  ten  yoa?" 
She  could  not  quite  frui^  to  wiy 
yes ;  she  said  xkoc  a  word.  Her  erf« 
fell;  but  Jeff  quicldj  Wt  M'^hxlj 
passed  his  arms  arr/oiid  h*iT,  'atA 
kissed  her  beautifol  red  lip«  thm^ 
times. 

"The  music  said  it,  'S^Ut,''  bx 
said,  as  she  sprang  up,  but  hf.  cau;^^! 
her  hand.  "  I  say  it  for  myht^lf,  t/y/, 
Nettie.     I  love  you.     Havu't  i  '/  ' 

It  is  of  course  yovnhUs  thai  if  thu 
old  people  bad  rtaid  at  >i</Tri^,  a/^/J  ihh 
piano  had  been  kept  »but,  Nettie  and 
Jeff  would  not  hare  becooM?  nsii^m^H^l 
to  each  other,  at  least  not  tliat  uii^Ut 
Am  it  wa£,  they  did. 


358 


Melpomene. 


MELPOMENE. 

"  To  thee,  0  potent  queen  of  song  1  I  baw : 
MeliK>mene ! 
Canst  thou  not  deign  to  rest  on  this  sad  ehorey 
Where  human  life  ia  hard,  and  children  fear 
Their  coniiug  days  of  toil  nor  joy  in  life  ? 
The  thunder  of  the  fiery  horse  is  heard 
O'er  all  the  land,  and  clouds  of  smoke  attest 
The  wonder- workings  of  the  human  will, 
While  old  men  fold  their  hand^  in  dread  of  ch&llf 
Thou  and  thy  listers,  from  afar,  have  heard 
The  tumult  of  this  busy  Western  world ; 
And,  for  a  few  true  worshippers,  have  culled 
Leaves  of  bright  laurel  from  immortal  wreaths. 
A[Killo  never  bathed  in  golden  light 
More  glorious  in oun tains  or  more  noble  seas ; 
Nor  ever  did  cloud-shadowrf  drift  across 
More  va.st  savannas,  forests,  lakes,  or  streams, 
Than  these  that  wait  thy  consecrating  love. 
But  not  in  mountains,  plain*,  or  forests,  thou 
Canst  find  thy  home  j  but  in  the  human  heart. 
That  beats  responsive  to  the  harmonies 
Evoked  by  thee.     If  thou  wilt  smile 
Upon  this  weary  people,  that  their  souls 
May  turn  from  idols  vain,  to  gaze  on  thee, 
Then  may  we  hope  for  better  things  to  come 
With  thy  sweet  presence  in  this  Western  hom6| 
Lighting  the  flame  eternal  of  pure  song  1 
Melpomene ! " 


It  was  a  grove  Druidic,  solemn,  vast, 

Where  I  besought  the  Muse.     On  matted  floors 

The  sunshine  rained,  in  tangled,  trembling  dropSi 

Beneath  a  rocky  cliff,  whose  towering  crest 

Was  crowned  by  trees  tliat  quivered  in  the  wind. 

Then  there  arose  a  choral  melody 

Of  voices,  chanting,  from  the  Spirit  Land. 

0  God  of  love  I  we  dedicate  to  thee 
This  virgin  soil,  land  of  the  true  and  free. 
Thou,  and  thou  only,  canst  create,  inspire, 
Lighting  in  human  souls  celestial  fire. 

Thou  art  the  law  of  life  and  love  and  light; 
Thine  is  the  power  alike  by  day  and  night; 
This  earth  and  all  the  glowing  stars  are  thine. 
To  Thee  in  loving  reverence  we  inclinei 
0  God  of  Harmony  1 


0  God  of  Beauty,  Truth,  forever  reign! 
And  may  the  sacred  laws  thou  dost  ordain 
Bring  health  and  strength  and  peace  to  man;  that] 
May  learn  to  truly  love  and  worship  thee, 
Great  God  of  Harmony  1  - 


«*t 


2s  DO  saoiie  mane  &aaati^win»ti£.  -aoar  'Siujc:  of  IL  Tunt^  ;^  i^ 
IcaoQgiu  thai  in  a  iPiiz*l£  of  flrci^aL  JDirmttk.  snin.  »>  lauxi  il  inu'jr 
Ifire,  it  siicniM  seem  afe  if  i^otfco:  icresr  uiJi  &.  lumm&c  ii^ram^  iriu 

-vilflt    liie    'VPDb£  "^^  gTT'»ail?H4IL  *"    """^"TH^       laSi    Tit  iLJlK:    Ttnixr 

I  books  as  XnDe*fi  mrr  grancaTrr  fTrfurgt:  il  mmiuer. 

ft  eilkfd  iiie  ■ffipwriinii  of  nor  2Baafi?k.  Ttfygry  ijwi  y^iarF  £b2r<^  il* 

I  adzuziUe  fff^"*^*f^  if  JTingftA  T/ia^rniHuab.    li  &  a  jxttsaaint:  %i  t>>ftr 

thenr    sre  imfv  'vbIII  izaakBiBaBd :  mic  i^iertr  s  Hi*   **^*^™**-   fur 

,  readfiEs  if  isbej  dfi>  nm  jrnilk   br  8ucL  fingceHUiutb.     Jusz 

iher  Ij^in    t&   find  lAiesr  'vnEr.  in   "Hi in-  ^  ITIliiiim^^    tfdiiiuii 

f  llr.  Van  Jjaaaiit  tnpiwtgaaiL,  ^w«  iuccnE:  fmm  F^suut:  a  moiii  eu^t*:- 

ToImDe  a£  M.  Tukt's  TjUcIiht    i:ri£Vi»k  :  wirrr  uevimd  oct 

He  s&  vi^  ms  ht  lie^iii&,  — 

^Tht  TlngHifti  hx^  a  ItabiL  a  -verr  c»<k:  oitt.  of  ^svrvHtuc  n.  s.  iijthistl 
IMBtXT.  azkd.  on  libcor  iwLiiriL.  wriunig  cLuwi.  tiH-  (jbtMrvuiiCiuiih  «ii«^^  lufc'  t: 
^ide.  Tlie  dUkaaut  \a^  of  esqteeneiict  znm-  Lrruugiit  tujpftii*^  '.'.>ui}ii»7^^. 
|Mtrc4.  and  ccsztsct  eai^  adifis.  I  uhiu  iiiutr  n.  ^iur  we  aiaiiui:  ui  w»:L  ;w 
Imitate  OCT  jud^boEs;  and  for  urnmUL  1  an.  ^^mr  ti  ui  »<.  L*ft 
HUT  ocke  teD  whal.  ht  htm  seeL ;  smd.  ubb^rTicitmfc.  if  tut';  uiv  iiid"  i'.;La. 
Hd  made  is  good  fudi,  anr  a}:wayiB  uiteful  Let  lut^  aac  tii*^-;  ai-^  »;uril:v 
Isie.  It  i§  BU&aent  to  irEXtt;  €i£  every  eveiuug.  &  nami::ivt  n:  wu*  V  Uii\- : 
Uf  Lttle  taiik  is  wrtiim  but  one *t-  caxjuoitr:  tin:  sius.'it  imiu'  urK^ti^ixry  ir 
bat  h  f^koold  be  done  wkL  cauidul  ac^utiou.  una  wiUitiut  pr»ju di«;»:.  J 
lare  gx'^tA  tlie  caeefiil  atUmttoL ;  I  luive  eii(it;uvi/r%Ml  to  do  tinr  v  i*:!!'.!!!! 
pRJodloe;  audi  dare  to  affirm  that  I  Lav^  wrrtx^i:  wicliuut  m:\  a^^.tui'*  vi 
lif  liinr  or  di^kleaamg  eitbes'  tbfc  PrmicL  ur  HiiiiiiaL/ 

IL  Taixfte  proeeede  to  Bar  timt  tbebtr  ?^u^efc  were  Utkir^u  iu  1>H;] 
ind  lS6i  .  He  baa,  bmreFeiL,  madt:  h,  third  vmt  to  Eu^rliind.  wUhAi 
mfixmed  Urn  m  ^bt  bfdksf  tiuft  tiie  piuturt:  uf  Luglauci  lar.  ^'uUh» 
pBBMDt  is  itil  IncL    A  dumge,  life  lan^b,  iud&td^  i^  jt^^^u;^  o^  iu 


360 


The  Examiner, 


"  For  fifty  years  its  constitution,  ideas^  and  manners,  become  « 
less  feudiJ  and  more  liberaJ  ;  even  in  t^n  years  this  movemtiot 
good  judged  consider  that  it  is  too  rapid;  that  it  runs  the  risl^ 
coming  precipitous,  llere  a  stranger  cannot  Tenture  to  buve  au 
be  can  only  form  his  own  wishes  on  the  subject.  A  Frenchman  will 
carry  away  from  England  this  profitable  conviction,  that  its  eyl 
politics  is  not  a  cabinet  theory,  applicable  to  the  moment,  oom^ 
of  one  piece,  hut  an  affair  of  tact,  which  can  be  carried  on  oa 
seriea  of  compositions,  translations,  and  compromises.'* 

M*  Taiiie,  not  yet  forty-three  years  old,  has  already  dia 
the  qualities  of  vigorous  thought  and  Btyle,  in  writings 
vained  character.  Just  now  his  name  is  famOiar  to  Ail 
readers  in  the  translation  of  his  **  Littdrature  Anglaiu^^^  of 
Are  have  before  spoken  in  its  original.  There  is  no  Englis 
upon  English  literature  which  can  take  its  place ;  and  it  i& 
that  a  foreigner  should  have  succeeded  best  in  filling  this  voi 
Taine  is  especially  happy  in  the  way  in  which  ho  treats  the  h 
sixteenth  century.  Our  own  writers,  Emerson  and  LoweQ 
equal  him  in  enthusiastic  appreciation  of  Shakspeare,  A 
critic  justly  defines  the  quality  of  M.  Taine's  imagination, 
iug,  that  he  is  evidently  most  impressed  with  *^  a  world  where 
thing  is  dramatic  as  well  as  on  a  gigantic  scale  ;  where  evi 
well  as  men  struggle  with  each  other,  leaving  the  marl 
original  and  vigorous  character/'  For'thia  reason,  the  ag6^ 
reform  and  tlie  Renaissance  attract  him,  and  he  is  at  eas6i 
scrilnng  its  scenes.  '"  And  here,  doubtless,  is  the  secret  of  liis 
thy  for  England,  The  dominant  trait  of  th3  English  ch; 
its  force.  Such  a  race  pleases  M,  Taine ;  and  this  explaiua 
why  he  is  constantly  retnniing  to  it,  and  w^hy,  in  the  veiy 
have  been  conquered  by  Germany,  he  still  continues  to  stt 
EngHslj  nation."  One  of  the  distinctions  which  he  traces  b 
the  English  and  French  races  springs  from  the  climate. 

Here  is  his  account  of  a  foggy  Sunday  in  London :  — 

'*  A  rainy  Sunday  in  London  ;  shops  closed ;  streets  almost  emj 
aspect  18  of  an  immense  yet  decent  cemetery.  The  rare  passers-bj 
their  umbrellas,  in  the  deserted  squares  and  streets,  have  the  air  (K 
ghosts  returning.     It  is  horrible  I 

'^  It  was  a  spectacle  of  which  I  had  formed  no  idea,  and  it  ia  aa 
frequent  in  London.     A  clost*,  fine,  pitiless  rain ;  to  see  it,  there  i 
reason  why  it  should  not  last  for  centuries.     One's  feet  slip  about  b 
there     is     water,    dirty    water,   everywhere,    impregnated    with 
of  soot.     A  fog,  yellow  and  thick^  fills  the  air,  crawls  along  the 


Hke  EMDmimer.  361 

II  thirty  paces,  m  steunboa;!  w<«ld  look  like  iftcris  izpoD  xoSfitT  jta^iex. 
ie  Strand  e^ecudlj,  and  in  tii«  <alj  itsbil  after  jm  Lcncr's  iralk,  <ake 
die  sple^i,  and  tfainkB  of  saSodft.  Hie  latj  iu^m^xas,  xr^  in  line^  of 
■e  bricksy  incmsted  witb  oonangs  of  &«g  umI  ficioL  MoDataiiT  ajid 
De  penrade ;  but  the  door-plates  of  oopper  <k  mu^ule  te]]  of  tibe  aLBent 
n^  like  m  great  diarooal-£actiOfj  ciosod  <ni  AoocuBUt  of  tibe  dealii  of  tibe 
B.  Tbere  is  one  frigbtfxd  object  in  t^  Strand;  it  is  t^  enatzDoos 
ce  called  Somerset  House ;  of  maasiTe  and  beaiy  ardhitartvire.  aH  its 
■tatioQS  are  marked  oat  with  ink,  portaodes  danbcd  <iT-er  irit^  sooiL.  libe 
once  of  m  Ibontain,  witboat  water,  in  a  bole  in  tike  middle  of  a  ooort, 
Jtm  of  water  in  tbe  pavement,  lon^  rows  of  dosed  windowB.  WLst 
ffcej  do  in  tbese  cataocHiibs  ?  Eren  in  tbe  paiks.  it  «e«sns  as  tboa^ 
lifid,  sooty  fog  bad  blackened  tbe  rezdme.  But  wbat  zaost  adBicts  tbe 
\  are  tbe  oolonnades,  penstrles,  Greek  oznaments,  moolding^  and  gar- 
b  upon  tbe  booses,  all  smeared  in  sooL  Poor  ardotectnre  of  tbe 
i!  wbat  can  it  do  in  sudi  a  climate?  On  tbe  fi^ades  id  tbe  Brrdsb 
tbe  flntings  of  tbe  pillarB  are  besmeared  as  if  a  sticky  mnd  bad 
I  poured  orer  tbem.  St.  PaaTs,  a  sort  <d  Pantbeon,  witb  two  stiozaes  <d 
■B%  tbe  lower  all  black,  tbose  abore,  recently  scraped,  sdH  wbite, 
.  wbite  tbat  abocks  tbe  ey es,  wbere  alread j  tbe  aoo^y  smoke  bas  set  ixs 
MS  stain." 

L  Taine  is  equally  diacouraged  by  the  dress  of  tbe  English 
Ben:  — 

Beanty  and  ornament  abound,  but  tai^te  is  wanting.  Tbe  color?  ar* 
igeooaly  barab,  and  tbe  forms  displeasing;  crinolines  vm  larg<&.  or 
png  ill,  in  geometrical,  buncbed  cones,  queer  f  ounces,^  coiiaiDt-iit^ 
ered  dresses,  a  profusion  of  floating  ganze,  bunches  of  drcioping  or  inzi^ 
;  <Mi  top  of  all  this  show,  impeiceptiblj  smalL,  mucb-dboc^rated  littler 
.  I  said  to  a  lady, '  Tbe  toilet  is  more  sko%c^  (akj  with  jou  tban  in 
ice.'  'But  our  dresses  came  from  Paris,'  was  tbe  reply  I  was  care- 
lot  to  return,  '  But  it  is  you  wbo  cboose  tbem.'  ^ 

I  an  entertaining  cbapter  upon  tbe  various  types  of  English 
racter,  M.  Taine  reacbes  tbis  conclusion :  — 

If  we  except  Us  beaux  et  les  belle*  of  tbe  promenades,  four  times  out 
&Te,  tbe  Knglisb  type  may  be  summed  up  as  tbe  followiDg:  for  the 
len,  a  capacity  of  supporting  much,  and  firequeDtly  the  phyoiognomy  of 
sson  wbo  bas  borne  much ;  a  resigned,  dolt  obstinate  air,  which  nftHUia 
ly,  •  She  has  made  up  her  mind:  [3L  Taine  gives  the  expression  in 
lisb,  as  tbougb  it  were  unattainable  in  French.]  "  For  the  men,  a 
icity  of  doing  much,  of  making  a  continuous  effort,  the  imprint  of  a 
mged  attention,  features  rigid,  not  soflened  or  dreaming,  the  jaw  con- 
ned, tbe  isc»  impasBiTe,  expressing  steadfastness^ 
he  ocmtrast,  however,  between  tbe  education  of  tbe  English  and 
leh  womeiif  giveB  r^ret  to  tbe  French  observer. 


tion^  urMclee  upon  piil>lic  education  in  irni&C9,  snci 

No  romances,  nor  talk  about  the  theatres,  no  courrkr  c/^1 
serious^  solid ;  by  waj  of  contrast,  jou  will  see  in  France  m  a 
the  provinces,  magazines  with  brilliantly-colored  fashion-plalea^  ] 
the  last  style  of  hats,  little  sentimental  novelettes,  pretty  complin 
fair  readers,  and,  above  all,  the  correspondence  of  the  lady  edita 
subscribers,  on  the  last  page ;  a  masterpiece  of  the  weak  and  4 
tesque.  It  is  shameful  to  the  human  intellect  to  digest  sucli.fiM 
to  have  a  dress  ill  made  than  an  empty  head  I 

"To  be  well  informed,  learned,  useful,  to  form  opinions,  to< 
communicate  them  to  others,  to  employ  one's  powers,  and  to  em 
well,  —  all  that  is  something.  It  is  easy  to  laugh^  if  you  trill ;  to  sai 
a  school  of  manners  creates  teachers,  pedants,  bluc*-stockings,  hut  d 
As  you  please ;  but  take  In  now  the  empty  idleness  ^Diund  in  oaT| 
towns,  the  enriui  of  our  women,  the  life  of  an  old  maid,  who] 
canary-birds,  goes  from  house  to  house  with  gossip,  makes. 
attends  all  the  church  services.  Besides,  all  these  women 
I  know  four  or  five  ladies,  married  and  unmarried,  who  write  j  '• 
the  less  pleasing  and  uaturaL  The  greater  part  of  the  authc 
have  cited,  according  to  the  testimony  of  my  friends,  are 
of  very  simple  habits  of  life.  I  have  mentioned  two  wom€ 
great  French  artist  whom  I  could  name,  and  who  has  pa 
with  each  of  them,  did  not  know  that  they  had  talent  j  not  i 
d  ^oreUkf-^  of  the  author.  The  necessity  of  speaking  of 
books  had  not  penetrated  into  the  twenty  honrs'  conversation. 
aasemhiage  of  facta  and  contrasts  that  should  give  us  subject  fori 
In  France,  it  is  too  easily  believed  that  if  a  woman  ceases  to 
ceases  to  bo  a  woman/' 

Of  course,  we  know  that  our  readers  will  have  an 


lu  cuir^ 


Gmk   pfciknffcn  n^ 

I  cr  a  nhifo  fiyicMK  mK 

.  CkfMl  hii  Kred  a«d  f«^i^^ 

■mI    CUadiAisj    are  itoffyriw^  C^Wn, 

ODe;aMltiie  Mawboando^  aniBd  »f  mk  or  dait  of  s»  who 

■i  tt»  ^■^i,.^^..^^  fpcmk  far  QirisK,  bowerer  vordiT.    For 

OttuH  k  iMMPiiiirdMy  gr»Ur  tbAB  ail 


If  gataend  aiaaad  taft  j^xav 
orChritt^Lont  lib 
anaad   wmj   pielara    of 


364 


The  Unity  of  iJie  ChurcL 


onr  ctiurches  aad  nil  our  creeds,  and  Uie 
noblest  men  ore  hut  glimmering  tapers 
beneath  the  radijuice  of  the  Sun  of  right* 
eouflnesa*  Jc5U»  Cbri^  represents  all  of 
Gijil  that  can  be  incarnate  in  human 
form,  and  work  through  our  human  nature 
for  the  re^neration  of  the  human  ra«'e  ; 
and  beyond  him  lies  the  infinite^  incom- 
prehensible One,  whom,  in  our  adoration^ 
we  call  by  our  highest  names,  —  the 
Father,  the  Onhj'  Good,  the  Pcriect  l/ove, 
Je<ius  Christ  also  represents  the  diTinity 
of  human  natiire.  Every  man  ha«  fallen 
into  sin,  and  on  the  side  of  his  being 
that  faces  mortality  Is  a  failure ;  but 
every  man  \s  the  chiltl  of  God,  inherits 
the  divine  nature,  is  a  part  of  humanity 
that  cannot  be  cut  away,  and,  in  whatever 
deepa  of  ^in,  bears  within  himself  the 
possibility  of  angelic  holin^'ss.  Christ  is 
the  divine  representative  of  that  divine 
poraibilit>'  of  humanity.  He  is  £^  Son  of 
man,  and  shows  to  what  ma^ifioent 
heitrhts  this  glorious  nature  of  ours  can 
attain,  when,  consecrated  by  love,  it  turns 
its  face  to  the  East^  and  its  forehead  is 
lighted  by  the  dawn*  Jesus  Christ  repre- 
sents that  perfect  lioUness  which  is  the 
same  In  (jo<1  and  man ;  love,  evermore 
(^oing  out  in  creative  power  and  self-sacri*. 
ficing  beneficence,  destroying  all  selfish- 
nesj*,  and  binding  all  creatures  in  all 
worlrls  10  the  Creator  and  Father 'of  all. 
Jesus  Chriiit  rcprcM^nts  that  one  absolute 
reliirioD,  of  wlueh  every  religion  that  has 
blcfiaed  any  people  is  the  reflection,  every 
church  the  prophecy,  every  true  civili£a- 
tion  the  foretaste,  every  beneficent  na- 
tionality the  product ;  all  pointing  to  that 
state  of  regenerated  humanity  which  is 
the  kingdom  of  God  on  earth.  Around 
the  Christ,  as  the  representative  of  this, 
are  grouped  all  the  churches  that  have 
elevated  mankind,  and  around  liim  must 
they  all  finally  join  hands  if  they  would 
conquer  tlie  world  in  his  exalted  name," 

After  this  statement  of  the  true 
ground  of  union,  I^fr.  Mayo  makes 
the  following  very  fair  protest  against 
one  of  the  exclusive  charges  of 
heresy. 

**  Why  does  the  evangelical  clergy  still 


persist  in  charging  the  LjIrtiI 
Church  with  heresy  i  Not  hen 
charchT  in  all  its  branchizs.  hai 
nied  that  Christ  is  the  foundad 
church,  the  divine  8on  of  God, 
and  Saviour  of  maakind ;  or  tli 
ligion  h  a  religion  of  complete 
ficu  and  love ;  or  that  God'j  IT 
is  the  perennial  source  wad 
support  of  all  that  is  exalted  in 
enduring  to  the  world.  All 
oral  Christian  Church  believes  a 
and  Liberal  Cbristians  try  le 
in  their  daily  life.  But,  of 
not  acknowledge  the  right  of  ai 
conclave  to  force  upon  our  eyes 
blue  spectacles  when  we  readily 
to  impose  its  little  diagram 
complete  survey  of  the  k 
And  it  is  becoming  more  ^ppu^ 
commanding  body  of  the  best 
in  the  evangelical  churches 
preference  of  tlie  Bible  to  the 
Christ  tc  his  commentiuors^ 
tnendous  agitation  now  rending 
ge Ileal  Church  is  simply  the  <i 
Attempt  of  these  people  to  &ai 
the  one  side  with  the  progre^stl 
of  Catholicism,  and  on  the 
Evangelical  division,  which  is 
tenths,  of  the  Liberal  ChrisdH 
nion. 

*»The  Liberal  Clirbtiiui  Ch 
up  in  God's  providence  to 
unity  and  spirituality  of  God, 
tial  divinity  of  human  natar^ 
perpetual  providence  in  humsi 
says  GikI  is  the  one  object  of  w<| 
his  Spirit  the  perpetual  inspinU 
spiritual  an i verse.  Man  19  Go 
child,  frail,  erring,  fearfully  di 
the  side  of  his  mortality  ;  but 
thing  except  the  child  of  God, 
always  caj table  of  beini*  brough 
his  Father's  arms.  Life  in  this 
world  is  God's  school  of  eh.i 
his  whole  government  and  disc 
out  of  his  infinite  love,  and  that 
not  be  batBed  in  the  end.  Chi 
didne  iSon  of  God  and  the  divti 
man,  standing  at  the  puitit 
FadierhcKKl  of  the  Deity  blcn<l| 
Son  ship  of  human  ity.  lie  c 
claim  the  gospel  of  Gcid*^  lor4 


366 


The  History  of  Israel 


of  Chmtian  life,  we  fintt  catdi  a  glimpBe 
of  the  meaning  of  the  Macter*!  ingpiring 
word^  ^  There  shall  be  one  fold  and  one 
shepherd.' 

"  V^Tjitt  a  day  will  that  be  when  this 
division  of  every  eburcb  captures  the  ma- 
ehineiy,  the  institutions,  the  organizations, 
and  becomes  the  moving  spirit  of  the 
Beet  1  Hien  God  will  send  ns  men  of 
broad  mind  and  lofty  faith  and  uplifting 
eloi]uence,  to  call  together  the  estranged 
dii^ciples  of  Chrbt,  now  longing  for  a 
new  baptism  into  his  name.  Then  will 
eome  forth  wise'  and  prudent  men  and 
women,  apt  to  organize  and  skilful  to 
administer,  who  will  lay  out  the  field,  and 
marshal  every  division  of  the  army  of  the 
Lord.  And  then,  for  the  first  time  in  the 
history  of  mau,  will  unbelief  and  sin  and 
public  unrighteousness  feel  that  its  hour 
has  corae.  How  long  would  the  infamous 
men  that  for  the  last  five  years  have  de- 
fied justice  and  mocked  at  honesty  sur- 
vive, if  the  united  Christian  church  of 
New  York  rould  turn  the  flood  of  its 
power  through  these  Augean  stables  of 
corruption  ?  How  long  would  Ctneinnati 
be  the  battle-ground  between  a  pagan 
and  a  Christian  civilization,  if  the  people 
who  really  lov'«  Christ  and  love  righteous- 
nei^s  could  forget  their  selfishness,  and 
move  on  as  one  man  against  the  sensuali- 
ty»  the  dishonesty,  the  greed  for  gain,  the 
unholy  ambition,  that  smother  our  higher 
mb?  Do  we  deserve  aoy  bcttex  success 
in  our  churches  than  now^  until  we  can^;go 
up  out  of  our  little  theological  enclosures 
to  the  high  ground  of  consecrated  unity, 
where  we  can  ovirlook  society,  and  dc*- 
scend  like  the  powers  of  nature  on  the 
wickeilness  of  men  ?  I  know  that  bi^^ots 
will  rave,  and  sceptics  will  sneer,  and 
good,  timid  people  will  faiotly  deprecate, 
and  the  majority  even  of  professing 
Chri:*tian8  will  call  me  a  visionary  for 
this,  the  hoiK*  and  faith  of  uiy  life.  So 
let  it  be,  *  Where  there  k  no  virion,  the 
people  perish*  There  must  be  Homebody 
who  refuses  to  be  harnea.«cd  forever  to  a 
theological  team;  sotnebotly  who  never 
can  begin  to  love  the  saints  in  his  own 
church,  without  thinkiog  how  mjiny  saints 
there  are  even  in  tJie  Church  that  denies 
to  his  the  Christian  name;  aomebody  to 


preach  that  the  soul  is  vasler 
creeds,  and  Christendom  b  oi 
ginning  of  the  kingdom  of 
body  to  pray  without 
when  the  Chundi  of  God 
together  like  a  wall  of  adamnti^ 
back  the  on-coming  ocean  of 
and  sin.  I  count  it  the  chief  p 
my  life  to  be  the  humblest  sern 
growing  fraternity  of  men  aQ 
who  live  on  thu  hope  and  die  in 
that  Christ  will  conquer  the 
make  in  all  one  in  him.  I  bclifl 
coming  unity  of  the  Christiai 
because  I  believe  in  Almighty 
the  Lord  Je?us  Christ,  and  tuaa 
of  God,  and  lite  the  school  of 
immortality  the  hope  of  « 
And  1  wait  in  patience  ike 
God'a  great  day  of  bre. 


THE  raSTORY  OF  ISBi 

The  second  volutne  of 
Ewald's  "History  of  Israel " 
the  first  great  stage  of  the 
history  of  this  peculiar 
which  one  glory  rises  out 
glory,  and  one  victory  out 
victory,  by  the  grandeur  of  tl 
administration  founded  on 
The  second  atage  of  the  Hist 
through  Satnuel,  the  •*  true  ti 
the  true  theocracy,-*  to  tb 
of  the  reigns  of  David  and 
perfecting  the  external  reali 
the  inner  principle  of  the 
in  what  the  author  in  the^e 
ing  volumes  c^lU  veiy  pnj 
Basileo  -  theocr^icy.  Volu 
opens  at  that  crisis  in  th 
nation  when  it  appeared  to 
pensable  to  its  stability  tl 
should  be  "  an  undivided  an 
established  human   authorlt 

»  The  History  of  lunid.  By  HrUl 
Profcator  of  GikUngeii,  Tmaalvti 
German,  Eilitfil  hy  J,  E^tlla  Cbrf 
Vo1«.  lit.  nnd  Iv.  The  Etlw  mi4  8p| 
Hebrew  Monarchy.  Ti«  DI«m}iUoa  iy| 
don.    LODgmAiit,^  Grvvn^  Jt  Co»    ySTL 


Land  J<»liii% 
I  Judges^  ^hea  **  eray  ■» 
» T%fat  ID  b»  ova  cf«a' 
Itine  iJiett  w?is 
feger  tliie«l«ned  Ci>  the  i«- 
^«&orv«h  (or  J«liir«y  as  tfe 
propedj  namea  knaX 
ftathofitjr  should  be 
[  which  ehoiild  sa: 
by 
Uimt  ''to  tb6  tlM- 
raddedlliemoQwehj; 
;  or  to  gndnallf  raptr^ 
to  liiHI  the  iraots  of  ^bm 
aide.*^  The  intitjdiietoiy 
IIm  mothor  had  a  Terj 
kt  into  the  wants  of  thia 
pie,  wboae  earlj  hiatoiy 
^£)rth  so  dearlj  in  the  fiiat 
What  he  caila  ''the 
'  Jahf^bm,^  which  tended 
in  the  hands  of 
[  the  Jiidg?9y  needed  a 
power.  Bat  ad  ''a 
f  tenda  no  less  to  absolntiaaii*' 
I  conjtitation,  in  which 
fonctioa  shoold  be  the 
the  thione,^  woold 
ind  idea  which  nnder* 
of  Jewish  hidtorj; 
the  theme  of  every 
and  ereiy  Jewish 
onljT  God  of  creation 
As  if  in  tnarked 
[the  rest  of  the  natioDS 
;  ber  bards  stiig^  **  The 
I  ate  idoU,  bat  Je- 
I  beaTena.'^  *^  Jehovah 
I  oconipote&t  God.^' 
in  his  Ciealme&t  of  the 
Qi  thiee  eras  of  the 
Icnel:   Fiot^  in   the 


efbadi.    «'Xbas 
.— tbei 
li^i  — tbe  alow  deea^.* 
baTe  read  aad  re  lead  Ibe 
«r  Smd  aad  David,  at 

Samael,wiQi 

afSwald] 

wiucb 

UBsed.    Tbey  vul  pescena 
taceaof  tbe  eertaia  &a«ne  of  S^al, 

hm  latgn.  Tboa^  be  mi^t  be  pre- 
eaiiaeojll J  foatified  hj  hifib,  hj  pb ja- 
ical  and  apbxtaal  aoqiaireaiaBtay  aad 

eren  bj  diriae  eotmcxatien ;  ateft 
thoQ^  be  may  baTe  been  tocubed  by 
tbe  paophatie  ipttit,  and  has  felt  a 
diTina  intnaatioD  aod  impolae  ealliag 
to  tbe  high  post  of  hnman  aoveieignty ; 
still/ above  all  and  behind  all*  is  the 
"Thus  saith  Jehovah/' — the  pro- 
phetic  fuDction,  typical  of  that  other 
King  whose  abode  is  in  the  heaTen%-^ 
tbe  Eternal ;  aad  exactly  in  so  fio-  as 
he  fails  to  woric  for,  and  together  with, 
God^  so  sorely  will  he  hear  the  p^>- 
phetic  voice,  **  Behold,  obedience  is 
better  than  sacrifice,  and  to  follow 
than  the  fat  of  nuns,"  Disobedience 
is  the  sin  of  heathens;  disbelief  -  is 
idols  and  devik.  Beeaase  thoa  hast 
rejected  the  word  of  Jehovah,  he 
hath  rejected  thee  also  as  his  king. 
Saul  must  give  place  to  a  king  "  after 
tbe  heart  of  the  King  of  kings/* 

Samuel  is  represented,  indeed,  as 
hinting  perceptibly  at  the  pTobabls 
point  of  lailare  in  Saul,  in  that  mys- 


368 


The  History  of  Israel 


tenons  warning  which  he  gives  Saul 
at  the  close  of  his  charge  to  him^  after 
his  solemn  elevation  to  the  kingly 
power.  "  Seven  days  shalt  thoii 
tarry  till  I  come  to  thee,  and  show 
thee  w)iat  thou  shaU  do,'^  It  was 
Saul's  rashness  of  impulse  which  the 
far-seeing  prophet  dreaded.  And 
this,  indeed,  was  the  hane  of  all  Saul's 
life.  It  was  his  own  will,  and  not  the 
will  of  God,  which  moved  him.  It 
was,  in  fact,  the  cause  of  his  prophetic 
rejection.  To  quote  the  author, 
"Even  to  the  royal  supremacy  in  the 
State,  there  is  a  limit,  not  to  be  over- 
stepped, which  is  lixed,  and  must  ever 
remain  fixed;  even  ahove  the  most 
rightful,  divinely-Inspired  kingj  in  the 
plenitude  of  his  power,  there  is 
always  an  inviolable  something,  on 
which,  however  sorely  tried,  in  evil 
days  and  apparent  danger,  he  must 
not  lay  his  hand."^  Saul  did  over- 
step that  limit.  He  did  lay  his  hand 
on  that  inviolable  something  which 
alone  belonged  to  the  prophetic 
power,  rashly  perhaps,  and  unadvis- 
edly, hut  none  tho  less  did  he  fail  to 
represent  the  true  Baailo-theocracy. 

But  it  is  refreshing  to  find*  in 
Ewald  an  historian  who  rises  superior 
to  the  common  prejudices  of  biUical 
literature  in  his  estimate  of  SauFs 
character.  Notwithstanding  Saul's 
history  is  thrown  into  the  shade  by 
the  stronger  light  of  his  greater  suc- 
cessor, yet  his  character  has  so  much 
in  it  which  is  not  only  redeeming  but 
even  glorious,  that  we  are  more  than 
evet  impressed  with  the  scrupulous 
reverence  which  David  always  cher- 
ished for  Saul,  the  '*  Anointed  of 
Jehovah,"  even  when  persecuted  by 
him.  Indeed*  looking  at  the  story  of 
Saul  and  David  in  a  purely  historical 
point  of  view,  we  are  led,  sometimes 
even  against  our  better  judgment,  to 

*  Vol,  UJ.  p,  34, 


sympathize  with  the  jealoiuf  I 
cast  such   a   gloom  over  tbiil 

h  e  ro's  1  ife.    Thi  s  royal  j  ealoiwjJ 
the   tradition  calls  it,  the  erilf 
hurries  him  on  fmm  oae  mm\ 
another,  until  friend  and  foe,  i 
and  son,  priest  and  prophet,  aHl 
alike  from  it.     The  prophH 
is  compelled  to  retire  from  hi] 
in  doing  so  displayed,  a^^  Evraid 
says,    nobler   qualities   than 
ever  shown  in  his  former  eaw 
judge^  prophet,  and  fouod«fr 
monarchy.      To     quote     agaiq 
author : — 

**  He  turned  away  from  Mid 
same  decision  with  which  he  ha4 1 
raised  him  up ;  Uke  a  father  i 
his  own  beloved  child,  reared  up  t^l 
hood  with  care  and  hope^  when 
of  others  is  involved.     For  kid  be  i 
this  bis  spiritual  child,  when  to  i 
would  have  been  contrary  to  Um  ( 
mental  law   of  the   theocracy  iti 
worst  possible  precedent  would  hnnX 
afforded  for  future  ages  by  this  i 
But  he  had  not  (bunded  tli£ 
that  the  theocracy  might  beeomtt  A  l 
dum  of  human  caprice  and  self*^ 
very    motive,    therefore,   which 
him,  in  spite  of  all  consideratioas,  wl 
the  new  institution  as  a  necesfity,  i 
have  equally  induced  him  to  execi  i 
power  to  shield   it,  when   once 
from  any  perversion  during  the  fiiitf 
of  its  development,*' 

One  is  so  charmed  with  th«> 
flow  of  narrative  in  this  }> 
most  interesting  part  of  L 
tory,  as  told  In   t^ 
the  temptation  is 
much  into  detail.     Espectaiiv  u 
the  case  in  tracing  the  wars  in  1 
David  was  engaged  during 
over  the  joint  kingdoms,     Tho  : 
cannot  fail  to  be  struck  with  the  i 
vellous  amount  of  labor  by  which  \ 
learned  author  baa  been   enabled 
draw  from  the  obscurity  of  men  1 
dition  the  {)Ian3  and  almost  I 


The  Hktory  of  Israel 


369 


diSetent  campaigns  against 

and  Amalekites  and  Mo- 

Axii»ioiiit«9  and  Edomiteg, 

«Tifii   scanty   reconk   from 

*  be  has  to  draw^  hts  iu forma- 

times,  as  in  the  case  of  the 

the  AmmoniCes,  not  appear- 

t]uui  a  few  bare  traditions 

I  fima  the  Book  of  Chrontekd^ 

B«Dt   the   story  as  told  in 

:  of  SamneK  that  we  are  lost 

j^  aa  we   read   a  campaign 

ottt  in  detail  equal  almost  to 

^*„  _i  -^  history. 

*  genius  is  chiefly  shown 
iiDination  with  which  he 
the  general  results  of  the 
reigns  of  Saul  and  Di*vid. 
\  £uled  JQst  where  David  suc- 
Saol  was  a  hero,  but  his 
to  the  fact  of  his  having 
en  of  GocL  David's  strong- 
was  the  pure  trust  he  had 
no  less  after  he  was  chosen 
eat  the  Basil eo-theocracy 
k  he  was  tending  his  father^s 
^  of^  as  the  champion  of  all  Is- 
r  lio  dared  to  face  the  lioD  or  the 
r  %h9  Fhilistine  who  had  defied 
of  Xanel.  And  this  pure  . 
Darid  never  at  any  time  lost 
fca  of*  Thist  the  author  shows, 
■iDdeivi,  the  '^secret  of  David's 
|Bnr  gteatness,  the  charm  which 
l«r  hiUd  to  attach  to  his  struggles 
A  Ua  tiioniphB  all  the  strongest 
1  poTBit  tfyinta  of  his  age.''  The 
priii  of  I>ar]d''s  reign  are  shown^  a^ 
^  mtioQ  now,  for  the  first  time 
fUg  Its  existence^  takes  its  place 
iMgst  the  otiier  nations  of  the 
Ith  ^a  a  distinct  nationality,  with 
Pteogtii  acid  stability  which  it  had 
VDT  bcikfi  able  to  obtain  completely 
l|cf  rho  tbe(»CTary.  The  Basileo- 
Wg^cr*  MA  T  »'d  by  David,  a 

^^ftsr  tht  f  the  King  of 

|p^    Issiiflfigixres    the     monarchy. 


Poet  as  well  as  warrior ;  ruler,  and  yet 
a  man  of  the  people ;  and  if  needs  be, 
as  in  the  removal  of  the  ark  to  Jeru- 
salem, a  priest.  Invested  by  the 
prophetic  function,  with  the  full  pow- 
ers of  an  earthly  monarch,  yet  ever  I 
ready  to  hear  the  **  Thus  saith  Jeho- 
vah,'* and  as  ready  always  to  act  in 
accord  with  that  voice.  With  such  a 
true  king  as  represented  by  David, 
the  prophetic  faculty,  or  power,  is 
held  in  check  by  a  monarch  who  is 
always  ready  to  follow  its  direction  in  | 
so  far  as  it  seems  to  him  to  coincide 
with  the  fundamental  laws  of  the 
theocracy ;  he  being  fully  aware  that 
the  prophetic  power  could  not  and 
would  not  demand  more  from  him. 

Had  David's  successor  been  true  to 
the  prophetic  power  as  he  |vas,  we 
might,  perhaps,  have  read  a  far  more^ 
encouraging  history  of  the  Basileo- 
theocracy  in  the  latter  part  of  fhe 
reign  of  hb  son  Solomon.  It  is  im- 
possible to  give  any  adequate  idea  of 
the  author's  clear  comprehension  of 
the  age  of  Solomon,  and4he  splendor 
of  his  monarchy,  except  by  referring 
the  reader  to  the  work  before  us, 
Ewald  takes  in  at  a  glance  the  diffi- 
culties which  lay  before  the  young 
monarch,  who  has  succeeded  to  a 
kingdom  in  which  there  appears  so 
little  to  do.  His  father  ha^l  to  take 
up  the  unwished  work  of  Saul,  and 
had  delivered  all  Israel  from  the 
supremacy  of  foreign  powers,  leaving 
his  successor  in  comparative  ease. 
Two  paths  are  therefore  open  to  the 
new  king;  one,  which  would  be  to- 
further  pursue  the  military  career  of 
his  father  David,  This  could  only 
be  done  by  aggressive  wars,  as  Solo- 
mon had  come  to  the  possession  of  a 
peaceful  throne.  The  other,  the  bet- 
ter task  of  making  wise  use  of  the 
peace  in  which  he  found  the  kingdom 
upon   his  accession    to    the    throne^ 


370 


'The  Hutory  of  Israel 


There  were  certainly  great  tempta- 
tions to  choose  the  first.  Peare,  on 
the  other  hand,  had  its  temptatioits. 
These,  indeed,  ghowed  themaelvea 
clearly  enough  daring  the  latter  part 
of  Solomon *fl  rei^n,  especially  in  the 
dangerous  se  duct  ion  of  allying  him- 
salf  in  marriage  with  the  heathen 
nations  round  about  him.  Solomon^ 
however,  chose  the  latter;  and  had 
he  continued  to  pursue  the  latter 
course  in  the  true  spirit  of  his  father 
David,  and  not  in  the  one-sided,  self- 
ish spirit  of  the  kings  around  hira, 
he  would  have  left  to  his  successor  a 
kingdom  so  stable  and  final  as  to 
have  defieil  for  years  inroads  or  dis- 
ruption. 

We  can  only  refer  to  the  admirable 
.-manner  in  which  the  author  treats 
*©f  the  splendor  of  Solomon's  reign, 
-the  organization  of  his  government, 
the  development  of  the  arts,  the  baild- 
^sng  of  the  royal  palaces,  the  temple 
with  its  gorgeous  furniture,  and  the 
public  works,  especially  the  water 
supply  of  Jernaalcm,  with  the  parks 
and  ganiens  and  orchards^  so  vividly 
portrayed  in  the  Canticles.  The 
results,  of  Solomon's  reign,  and  the 
causes  of  the  failure  of  the  Ba^ileo- 
theot-racy  when  transmitted  to  his 
. successor,  are  jadicioualy  considered 
by  Ewald. 

The  culminating  point  of  Israel's 
history  was  reached  in  this  reign; 
but  with  it  necessarily  came  the  vio- 
ileuce  of  aut^:»cracy,  **  the  terrible  rock 
♦on  which  all  antiquity  has  split." 
During  Solomon's  reign,  his  wise  ad- 
ministration, DO  doubt,  softened  the 
features  of  autocratic  [lower;  but  the 
seeds  of  decay,  consequent  upon  it, 
^ere  deeply  imbedded,  and  Dnly 
awaited  the  accession  of  a  we  ^k  and 
.nnpnncipled  successor  to  spring  up 
«nd  spread  itself  with  fearful  rapidity. 
Fortj  yeara  of  almost  uuintenit^ted 


peace  had  also  had  lis  effect  ci 
nation.     Israel  hail  he^n  wlioHf^ 
accustomed  to  such  coi 
of  security  as   these   [n ,.    . „ 
had  engendered.    Luxury  and 
nacy  and  a  moral  carelpssm 
unknown  amongst  tliem 
people  to  a  forgetful  ness  of  th< 
paid  for  the  blessings  of 
the  words  of  the  prophetic  soDg,^ 
shurun  waxenl   fat   and    wicki 
forsook  the  Go<l  who  inadtt  hii 
hastened  after  strange  g<Hls/' 
Solomon's  royal  i)omp,  which 
also  a  great  national  debt, 
doubt  much  to  do  with  the 
berment  of  the  kingdom,  and  i: 
disruption.       It   is    am 
suppose  that  the   most 
of  the   nation  could  approve 
luxurious  arrangements  of  his 
with    his   seven    hundred    prii 
and  three  hundred  concubim^s, 
ed  to  tliese  luxuries  of  court 
continual    building    of    id: 
palaces  and  gardens  for  theno 
as  well  as  for  his  own  special 
deur,  must  have  been  carried  on 
sacrifice  of  the  honor  and  frvedi 
the  people.    Still  again  ;  io 
relations    with     foreign 
greater    freedom    of    religion 
neces-sarily  become  apparent* 
not  appear  tliat  Solomon  hi 
left  the  religion  of  Jeho\^h,  and 
ficed   to  strange  gods  with   hii 
hands.     But  under  so  wide-*] 
monarchy   as    existed   in    Soli 
reign   there  must  be  a  tend 
imperialism,    and    every  pi 
empire  must  give  toleration  to 
religions.      In    a    purely    hi 
sense,  then,  it  wae  no   more 
for  Solomon   to  cause    altars 
raised  to  Astarte    and  Chem^ 
Milcom»  than  for  a  Christiao 
ment  like  Great  Britain  to 
sidies  ^r  tha  support  of  the 


X. 


27i«  Infinite  and  the  Finite. 


371 


to  her  vmst  empire  of  India. 
noQe  the  less  a  scandal, 
I,  to  man^  of  the  stricter  be- 
ll the  jmacjples  of  the  the- 
smi  proUablj    alienated  the 
of     many    of    his    subjects. 
it  is  not  therefore  to  be  id- 
[bat  Salomon  io  his   old  age 
awaj  horn  the  religion  of 
into  idolatry;  for  through- 
peign  he^  like  his  father  David, 
retained  the   supenrision   of 
ithood  in  his  own  handa ;  yet 
of  centuries  his  laxity 
iciple  led  to  the  asser- 
chargo  against  him.     In- 
5  of  Israel  who  peTmitted 
religions  to  exist  at  all  within 
might  well  be  consid- 
£uled  as  the  representa- 
Basileo-theocracy  of  which 
]>aTid  was  tl^  true  type. 
lapo  nothing  tended  more 
iemberment  of  SolQmon\s 
the   relation   in  which 
i8«lf  toward*  tlie  close  of 
die  prophetic  function* 
X  powers  are  again  found 
each  other,      '^he  theoc- 
fffireeented  by  the  prophetic 
had  worked  in  unison  with 
by  during  the   reign    of 
they  continued  to  work  in 
Ihe  earlier  part  of  the 
o  Solomon  \  at  least,  so 
aiium  was  the  fnend  and 
of  the  young  king.     But 
i  not  long  surrive  his  old 
r,  and  after  his  death 
prophets  acting  in 
I  the  luonarchy*  But  in  the 
of  Solomon's  r^ign  we  lind 
power   used    against 
the  persons  of  Ahijah  of 
I  Shemsuah.  Thi^  younger 
of  prophets  seemed  to  ap- 
OoC   without   good    reason, 
OOOaicfay  was  degenerating 


from  the  high  stand  it  had  taken  un- 
der Darid,  into  an  ascendency  and 
violence  which  endangered  the  vital 
principle  of  Israel's  whole  existence, 
the  theocracy  of  wliich  the  prophetic 
function  was  the  true  representative. 
This  latter  cause,  together  with  the 
dissatisfaction  naturally  engendered 
by  the  burdens  of  taxation*  so  weak- 
ened the  monarchy,  that  even  during 
Solomon's  own  reign  the  kingdom 
showed  signs  of  disruption. 

With  reference  to  the  work  of  the 
translatorj  who  throws  this  inestima- 
ble treatise  open  to  all  English  stu- 
dents, we  have  only  to  express  the 
highest  praise  for  faithful  and  even 
elegant  rendering  of  the  text  of  his 
author. 

In  our  next  number  we  shall  ex- 
amine the  history  as  stated  in 
Ewald's  fourth  volume. 


THE  INFINITE  AND  THE  FINITE. 
Mk.  Theophllus  pARSOKg  has 
published  several  volumes  of  essays,  on 
the  subjects  which  are  at  once  meta- 
physical and  religious,  which  have 
challenged  and  sustained  the  interest 
of  tboQghtful  readers.  Mr.  Parsons 
is  a  careful  and  ailmiring  student  of 
Swede nborg  j  and  some  of  his  essays 
on  that  writer  are  of  substantial 
value  to  people  who  wish  to  under- 
stand him  and  have  not  been  wisely 
led  in  their  explorations  of  the  ori- 
ginal writings.  There  is  a  simple 
common-sense  in  his  way  of  ap- 
proaching subjects  of  speculation^ 
which  gives  reality  to  the  study  and 
confidence  to  the  reader  from  the  be- 
ginning. We  have  never  known 
why  these  essays  were  not  more 
widely  read  and  cited,  as  they  cer- 
tainly desen^e  to  be.  ^ 

He  now  adds  to  the  series  one* 

»  The  InftiUt«  Aod  the  Finite.    Bf  Th«opliila» 
PiTflona*    Bofilon.    Boberti  Bruttaen,    tStl. 


372 


The  To-Morraw  of  Death, 


which  he  calls  **The  Infinite  and  the 
Finite ;  '*  and  the  namo  is  well  se- 
lected. The  suhjects  involve,  first,  our 
knowledge  of  God;  second,  a  discrim- 
ination as  to  our  spiritual  faeultied; 
next,  a  etudj  of  Revelations;  and 
this  in  turn  involves  a  discussion  of 
Swedenlxjrg,  of  Spiritism,  and  of  the 
Future  Hevelationa. 


I 


THE  TO  MORROW  OF  DEATH, 

This  is  the  title,  which  will  certain- 
ly call  attention,  of  a  ^-urious  book  by 
Louis  Figuier,  whose  popular  books 
on  physical  science  have  been  widely 
circulated,  and  are  interesting  and 
profitable.  This  is  very  well  trans- 
lated by  Mr,  S,  R.  Crocker,  the  ac- 
complished editor  of  ^*The  Literary 
World."' 

M.  Figuier  lost  a  son  at  the  age 
of  twenty -four.  It  seems,  from  his 
book,  that  up  till  this  event  he  had 
troubled  himself  but  little  about  the 
theories  of  the  Church  as  to  immor- 
tality, and  indeed  that  he  had  dis- 
believed its  received  statements  on 
the  subject.  The  death  of  his  son 
quickened  his  interest  in  the  ques- 
tion of  questions,  and  the  result  of 
his  inquiry,  pursued  with  enthusiasm 
in  the  methwls  of  science,  is  before 
us* 

It  is  a  book  which  will  command  a 
very  wide  circulation.  The  question 
of  questions  is  everybody's  question. 
The  authors  answer  —  not  borrowed, 
be  it  observed,  from  any  of  the  theo- 
logical formulas  —  is,  that  each  indi- 
vidual retains  his  conscious  personal 
existence     after    death;      that    the 

«  The  To-morrow  of  Death ;  or^  The  Future  Lift 
AocordJng  to  Science.  By  Louis  Figuier,  author 
of  FHmltire  M&n.  Earth,  and  Sea.  &c.  Trans- 
laieed  lY^om  the  French  by  8.  R.  Crocker.  Boitoa : 
Roberta  Brotbcw,    1872, 


body  dies,  —  and  what  he 
life  **  dies,  —  by  which  he 
nervous  agency,  and  the 
which  can  be  allied  to  it, 
the  soul  does  not  die.  Aa 
place  where  this  soul  con 
eiistencCf  he  gives  ap  htd 
rious  suggestion-  One 
of  Taylor's  **  Fbysici^l 
other  Life/'  Bat  there  ia 
important  distinction  that 
was  a  Christian  preacher,  % 
not  know  much  of  physical 
and  that  Figuier  is  a  man  0( 
cal  science,  very  little  prejod 
Christian  preaching. 

Whether  the  readers  do 
adopt  the  particular  physical 
suggested  in  such  books*  the 
to  bring  about,  for  the  genera 
a  broader  and  braver  view  of  1 
sibilities  of  spiritual  beings 
lead  to  Sir  Thomas  Browne' 
tions,  —  the  "  great  questions 
calls  them  ;  "  What  was  thert 
the  beginning  ?  "  and,  **  What 
beyond  the  most  distant  ?  " 
which  purblind  science  may 
itself  sometinies.  The  clostn 
of  the  book  fairly  indicate  its  s 

TffBOPttlLUS. 

There  is  to-day  a  strong  aad  dl 
of  a  belief  hi  Prxividtjnce,  of  giili 
age  and  faith  to  God.  It  is  felt  tl 
lies  truth,  there  are  peace  and 
and  forever.  But  the  establi^ 
gions  leave  many  mindg  in  cruel  ill 
ties.  In  the  **  To-morrow  of  Del 
have  undertaken  to  lay  the  found 
a  religion  of  Science  and  Nafurs, 
principles,  1  believe,  meet  the  I 
the  age.  They  content  the  bearl 
spirit;  they  satisfy  feeling  aod 
they  console,  they  strengthen 
they  consecrate  the  idea  of  Go<?| 
neglecting  the  universe  or  Natw 

So  be  it  I 


Uttoxh  oi  Progrcso* 


J  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

fe  a  **  people's  club  "  ?  A  bet- 

JOQ  has  not  come  to  hand 

en  in  the  secretary's  first 

of  the  *♦  Union  for  Good 

K^w  Bedford^  —  *•  an  or- 

for  the  promotion  of  bos- 

oeTolence,  and  general  im- 

L*-   The  true  people's  club  is 

table  organization,  as  such, 

l  -  rrations  that  '*  soothe 

\  -1^1       iS  "  will  always  corae 

10  «cop6  of  iU  working  j  nor 

mstitation  for  the  dissemi- 

'  religious  ideas^  much  less  of 

I  of  religionj   ideas— these 

»  a  different  sphere  of  action ; 

tcolar  instruction^  any  mora 

li  when   large   numbers    of 

«De  together,  young  and  old^ 

1  always  be  some  who  wish 

kod  othets  who  desire  to  learn. 

ItnioD  is  the  oflspririg  of  no 

edi,  Imt  is  composed  of  peo- 

all  churches  j  or,  better  still, 

^axchoa  and  from  no  church- 

nuo  many^ded  in  its  aims, 

^^hue  who  wishes  to  work 

^Hbethiog  especially  fitting 

Wf  ^  >f  New  England 

bt't  i  since  the  war; 

which  took  to  itself  the  name 
m  for  Christian  Work,"  hav- 
1  organised  in  Providence, 
I  Ae  3d  of  March,  18G8 ;  and 
first  impulse  was  given  to 
overplus  of  that  enthu- 
tanght  people  of  diHering 


creeds  and  aims  to  work  together  for 
a  common  end.  The  first  object  of 
the  unions  is  to  provide  a  place  which 
young  people  of  both  sexes,  particu- 
larly those  who  breathe  no  other 
home  atmosphere,  will  find  attractive 
euough  to  lure  them  away  from  temp- 
tations which  draw  them  steadily 
down.  In  all  towns  and  cities  where^ 
much  manufacturing  is  carried  on, 
there  is  a  class  of  young  people  who 
have  eating  places  and  sleeping  places 
(the  latter  often  contracted  enough) 
and,  Heaven  knows,  working  places ; 
but  no  home.  Tlie  rooms  of  the  club 
supply,  as  far  as  possible,  the  home- 
want  for  such,  in  a  suite  of  well- 
warmed  and  well-lighted  rooms,  easy 
of  access,  and  open  to  all  weU-regu- 
lated  persons  at  seasonable  hours. 
The  rooms,  of  course,  represent  but  a 
very  small  part  of  the  active  working 
of  the  union  ;  but  are  suggestive,  as 
showing  that  the  earnest  men  and 
women  so  engaged  have  got  hold  of  the 
leading  idea,  that  to  benefit  our  fellow- 
beings  we  must  meet  human  nature 
upon  its  own  grounds.  To  elevate  and 
refine  the  young,  amusement  must  %e 
offered^  and  intellectual  stimidus  ;  es- 
pecially the  former,  for  the  class  of 
youug  people  that  fills  the  work-shop 
and  the  factory  has  not  the  culture  that 
demands  intellectual  stimulus,  nor  the 
ability,  except  in  rare  instances,  to 
acquire  it,  in  the  fragments  of  time 
left  from  the  labors  of  the  day. 
Amusements,  especially  games  of  a 
half  intellectual  characterj  most  al- 

S73 


4 


374 


Peoples  Cluhs  of  New  England. 


ways  be  greatly  attractive  to  an  in- 
telligent but  not  highly  intollectual 
order  of  minds, 

Mr.  S.  Griffitta  Morgan,  president 
of  the  **  Union  for  Good  Works  '•  in 
New  BeiU'ord,  ^lass.,  says,  **  I  should 
like  to  see  one  started  in  every  city, 
town,  and  village.**  A  sketch  of  this 
union^  and  of  a  few  similar  ones,  might 
he  of  uae  in  giving  an  idea  of  the  work- 
ings of  such  an  institution  where  none 
exists,  and  would  certainly  answer^het- 
ter  than  any  definition  could  do,  the 
qtiestion.  What  is  a  people's  clubji* 
This  union  was  organized  on  the  0th 
of  February,  1870,  on  the  plan  of  the 
Providence  Union,  before  mentioned, 
rhich  has  already  been  somewhat 
"widely  noticoJ  by  the  secular  and 
religious  press.  The  plan  has  been,  of 
course,  somewhat  modified  in  Kew 
Bedibrd,  to  meet  the  special  wants  of 
those  for  whom  the  club  was  devised. 

The  constitution  of  the  New  Bed- 
ford Union  provides  for  four  work- 
ing sections :  on  hospitality,  benevo- 
lence, education,  and  worship.  The 
wor:ship  section  has,  however,  always 
been  small,  and  during  the  past  year, 
s^iys  the  secretary's  report,  *'  has  done 
no  work,  the  variety  of  sects  represent- 
ed in  the  union  making  it  undesirable*" 
The  union  has  a  suite  of  spacious 
and  we  11 -lighted  rooms,  the  care  of 
whicU  is  intnisted  to  the  hospitality 
section;  and  a  committee  from  this 
section  is  in  attendance  every  after- 
mjob  and  ev<?ning,  to  provide  for  the 
special  wants  of  the  company,  initiate 
new-comers,  and  see  that  due  decorum 
is  observed.  One  of  the  rooms  is  used 
as  a  reading-room,  whichj  with  the 
growth  of  the  club,  has  had  an  addi- 
tion bmlt  on  to  accommodate  the  libra- 
ry, which  now  numbers  nearly  four 
hundred  volumes.  There  is,  in  the 
reading-room,  the  usual  supply  of  mag- 
azines and  newspapers  j  and  illustrated 


books,  stereoscopic  pictnre8|  ] 
ings,  and  paintings,  add  theiti 
influence. 

Another  room  is  devoted  to  aa 
ment,  being  furnished  with 
tables,    cue-aUeys,   chess    and 
gammon    boards,  &c.     T1>e    av 
attendance  at  tliese  rooms  i^  one  I 
dred  and  Miy ;  but  Satun!aj  even 
brings  a  much   larger  number,  , 
crowd  being  Bometimes  too  gr^ti 
the  capacity  of  the  rooms.     The  i 
are  generally  closed  for  the  tveuti 
with  singing ;  and  it  may  be  rema 
in  passing,  that  the  piano  belo 
to  the  club  was  obtaineil  by  the  ] 
of  a  number  of  the  members  in  ] 
cing  buibre  the  public  a  charmiugi 
hibition,  known  as  "The  Illust 
Ballads."     The  section  on  edac 
has  a  large  class-room^  furnished  l 
blackboards,  drawing-table:^  kc. 
struct  ion  has  been  furnished  in  I 
keeping,    drawing,     arithmetic, 
other  branches.     Sewing  is  taagh 
connection  with  the  benevolence  \ 
tion,  both  with  and  without  tbei 
ing-machine.     Two  classes  havej 
been  taught  cooking.     Two  cou 
lectures  were  given  during  tlie 
year,  —  one  «>n  English  Literatur 
other  a  miscellaneous  course,  on  ) 
nate  Saturday  evenings.      The 
pecta  of  this  department  are  cae 
ging;  great  results  notbeingexp 
in  a  field  where  it  is  so  difficofl 
awaken  and  maintain  enthusia 

The  benevolence  section  offefl 
wider  range  of  airtion  in  it$  wf 
departments.  The  labors  of  the  J 
Committee  have  been  reduced 
system,  by  dividing  the  city 
twelve  districts,  lioth  departni« 
male  and  female^  of  the  jail,  hate! 
visited  weekly*  Beading  alocJ 
the  prisoners  has  been  adopted,! 
letters  written  to  their  friends  ifl 
outside  worlds  and  sometimes 


PeopU'9  Club*  of  J^ew  Em^amd. 


375 


)en  furnished  to  i 

es  had  expired  to  leten  to  tjiear 

The  fruits  of  the  £cid  an 
ide  a  means  of  grace ;  bonqpets 
Qonst^mtlj  distnbiited  at  1^ 
e  house  of  indnstij,  azid  odber 

Ofierings  of  frnits  and  ^owms 
[>  sent  to  the  sick  azid  a^ed 
This  dnly  derolTm  npm  tbe 
r  ladj-memberB  oi  1^  dbaS^, 
prhom  speala  4>f  it  as  a  ^ 
ssion,"  and  as  ^  edacatbig 
positions  in  chantahle  w«k  hf 
g  them  in  oootact  with  liie 
Qd  needy."  There  is  also  a 
ttee  on  EmpkjiBent,  to 
nts  in  obtaining 
>ther  to  instnict  in  aewi^  as 
nentioned,  the  gannenSx  laade 
andedoverto  the  Belief  Cooh 
for  distrihation.  Thepfttpoei- 
i  also  been  made  tosflppflj<oper- 
D  the  fiictcnies  and  odiecB  with 
I,  at  the  cost  of  the  aialedtail 
mall  addition  for  making  up. 
lerolence  section  of  tiiie  New 
i  Union  seems  thus  to  cosBprise 
ig-ciicle  (true  to  its  xiazDeX 
)k>yment  agencj,  an  eaizkest 
f  city  missionaries,  aiod  a  t^tar- 
issociation,  to  fami^  ti>e  xke- 
3  and  luxuries  of  iiie  to  Bavh  as 
^  them ;  -and  the  naesslitt^s 
tat  in  all  these  ways  ih/ej  kar^ 
d  to  some  extent  the  object  of 
on,  wfaidi  tSy  ^  To  do  good,  a^sA 
etter." 

person  orer  sixteen  yeaj^  of 
a  become  a  member  -of  tbe 
if  approved  by  the  Committee 
obeiship)  by  signing  tJbe  iym- 
Q,  and  paying  one  dollar  to 
sssoier.  Membership  is  •can- 
b J  the  annual  payn^est  of  t3ae 
am.  There  are  now,  in  all, 
wo  handled  and  ninety  xnesa- 
Sons  of  these  ate  honocuy; 
r  BCtttypay 


tike  aaBinni^  iee;  Hammg  AboBt  otne 
honkdi^  aoid  iMrtiHliiaiae  wLo  do  aii 
tiie  wurk.  Of  l^bis  iKumSsieiL,  saj%  the 
pvesaSeoad:  in  Ins  aMress,  ^iieady  ti^o- 
^imrds  ase  women.'^  X^  muoa  as 
SB^^osiiad  liy  t^  fees  for  meniber- 

like  varied  «i2£rl^enfi  •of  tbe  members, 
some  «af  w^om  Iksw  tEasaned  I^msiih 
sdhree  axsto  a  "^  miiaii  ifior  actantg.^  tftke 
ppooeeds  of  wihose  poratie  t^keactaacaSs 
i>^iL22Ktd  last  year  «<v^er  £t^  imoidbBd 
dotQaa?s.  T^e  aimiiafl  iBBtorail  •of  tike 
naiiQn,  iiciLd  in  like  {aBmmec,  iieai&Ead 
tike  ii!nex|»B0t«ed  fium  «f  4*1^^'^^ 
Hie  tuvBaBniT,  a^  pcesetiii,  is  fiiE,  bnt 

^  Hms,^  wiiliee  like  sacretasj  at  the 
dksse  €lf  like  Beoond  asisiiinaS  i%f»cPt1, 
"^tftke  <0ntiRard  rec^kanmg  staiLkds  at  the 
,@peaamg  of  <mx  iMzd  year — zkonae  eaa 
i«ad  iur  US  like  exact  asndeaalare  ne- 
snilits.  "nkeo^e  ihsre  keen  some  hi^mm 
askd  disoeooabgumesitfi,  asid  peritajp^ 
Tiewed  aii  a  wLcile,  id  it*  extwtidwi 
piaaa,  it  mar  wjcam  titat  like  Kit-ksty 
has  acoomjilisLed  Ixttiie.  .  . '.  2>ut  if 
ia  any  instajaoeB  imjiooeiit  aduiui-e- 
mezrt^  witih  reimed  siLrrciuikdiugc^ 
lucr*  serred  to  iatti«fy  a  vx^irm^  for 
r^jcreifitaom  wLicL  xuigbt  liar*  led  to 
mare  excdt-mg  or  ^eril  ijuflueaoeu  if  iik</t 
tiiTis  nuiiiisUTtjd  to;  if  erwu  a  iwuaJI 
impulse  L**  liw®  gireii  to  a  hii^^Mfr 
Uojt  of  tbcmgirt :  if  but  ih*i  fajut^?*t 
glinip**'  of  the  wi^^e  ajud  }^jj^iiA:AfUt 
laws  vLJrL  ♦^uiTouuid  ^rw'  LuJioaxi  Jife 
liafc  "Uieii   3'tn-f^al^fd  to   IwsarU   vauwJ/ 

ing  a,|:>mht  it :  if  auj  lxay<#  l><i»<?ri 
Lt^Jptid  to  }>rt:-m  lonrard  «i<or<?  fmnty 
Mid  chtierf'uHr,  ajad,  <yjmmi^  Ut  u^h*  a 
Fistber't^  liajid  tipbol^iiiig  aJl  tl^iugv, 
liaTf  leajiiad  t^j  tru«t  Uiiu^  Umm  iU*$ 
serriof  hh^-n  in  rain  ?  ^ 

^Hke  feai^oa  Fraiteroitj '*  wjw  -c/r- 
gauiiied  ill  tike  spring  <;f  li^^^  afi^i 
«dgi2nated  aattoog  tlKMe  wbo  saw  thii 


376 


People's  Clubs  of  New  England, 


need  of  some  place  where  young  men 
and  women  could  pass  their  leisure 
areningB  in  innocent  amusement  and 
in  reading.  Mr.  E.  B,  Willsouj  who 
has  kindly  furaished  an  account  of 
the  origin  and  working  of  this  insti- 
tution,  ftaye  in  speaking  of  tta  having 
been  opened  firom  4ihe  first  for  both 
aexes,  that  from  **  this  no  evil,  m  far 
aa  is  known,  has  Resulted ;  while  the 
influence  of  either  sex  upon  the  other 
is  believed  to  have  been  gomi*^ 

The  rooms  of  the  fraternity  are 
centrally  located,  being  in  one  of  the 
be^t  buildings  of  the  principal  street 
of  the  city*  It  has  a  large  hall^ 
which  is  used  on  Saturday  evenings 
for  a  lecture-room,  and  occasionally 
for  dramatic  performances,  amateur 
concLTts,  and  the  like.  On  ordinary 
occasions  it  is  nii^ed  as  an  aniuseaient 
room,  where  various  ganit*s  and  a 
piano  are  provided.  There  is  another 
room  for  reading,  with  the  usual 
variety  of  books,  magazines,  and 
newspapers  j  and  in  still  another  room 
teaching  goes  on  regularly  for  those 
who  desire  it.  A  comparatively  small 
number  of  the  frequenters  of  the  club 
avaiJ  themselves  of  this  special  in- 
struction, and  these  only  in  reading, 
spelling,  writing,  and  other  common 
branches  of  study.  There  is  always 
a  committee  of  ladies  and  gentlemen 
in  attendance  at  the  rooms.  The 
average  attendance,  for  some  time 
past,  has  been  about  one  hundred. 

The  fraternity  is  supported  by  an- 
nual subscriptions,  by  donations,  and 
by  the  cuncerts  and  entertainraenta 
spoken  of.  Its  rooms  are  not  open 
on  HundaVt  and  no  religious  instruc- 
tion, as  such,  is  attempted*  **  It  is  a 
very  modest  and  unpretending  insti- 
tution," says  Mr.  Willsou,  **  but  one 
which,  I  am  satisfied,  keeps  many 
persons  from  places  of  evil  influence, 
midf  both  negatively  aiid  p«>B\l\v^^, 


helps  those  who  hare  no 

to   hold    them   safe    and 

them   in   right   habits   to   walk  i 

harmed,  where  they  migiit 

faU  into  irretrievable  htitta  agki  i 

chiefs,'^ 

A  '^  Union  Association  t&t  i 
Work  "  was  orgunijced  in  FairibH 
Mass.,   on  the    11th    of  July,   II 
Rev.  E,  C.  Butler,  writing  of  1 
says,  **  We  have  endeavored  to 
bine  two    objecta, —  aid  for  tJie  ' 
fortunate,   and    amnsc-ment   lor 
young.     The    rooms^    eon^istiDg 
parlors,  room  for  games,  and 
room,  were  open  every  night 
were  also  classes  formed  for 
tion,  free    to   all.     Bnndaj 
there  was  a  meeting  in   the 
conducted  by  sonie  laily  or  | 
belonging  to  the  association.     It 
entirely  unsectarian,  e^nallj 
allj  of  any  sex,   age,  or  color; 
may  here  say  that  women  w^it  < 
best  workers.     We  really 
in  uniting  the  most  antagoniKtic  j 
ligious  elements.     It  was  ent 
union    for  good  works,    oatdid« 
church  influence/' 

The  "  Peoplc*s  Club,**  of  W« 
has  been  in  existence  but  little 
than  six  months ;  but  it  has  ; 
a  meml>ership  of  over  four  htmd 
It    seems,    like     the    New     B« 
organization,     to    hare     taken 
Providence  Union  for  hs  ^ 
expecting,  of  course,  the  ^ 
fications  which  will  be  br.   i-M 
as  the  experiment  takes  luui^  Ucv 
shape.     Mr.  Edward  H.  Hall,  atu€ 
ber  of  the  club,  says,  **  If  our  ma 
ment    has    any   distinctive    f-^^ti 
it  is  best  expressed,  per) 
name  we  have  taken. 
people^s    club;    not    an    lo 
where  the  few  meet  ti 
but  one  in  which  all 


Gratry, 

to 
I   iPoeiTuiip.  ...  A 


hB  be  dMdad  mio  tbe 
boipilaZilj, 

ha  peoplfl  vliidi  tbe  < 
Ike  ddb  ^ 

AIb  gniiad,  sa4  dn  A*  te*  ^ia  «f 

be  dona  bgf  pnd^  neafar  smmb  b»   m 

I.   Poring Ihe  ■  ■film III  <f  Ae  «n»  tAmfce 

»  &r  the  biDfitality  wedikam  wmmi^dbaM  b» 

ly fa  ibrhiMtt  ■!■■■■■  rf  ^1 


*n 


378 


Chatry,  Hyacintfie,  and  Dbllinger. 


• 


piety  and  much  less  learning  than 
those  which  we  then  translated.  It 
is  addressed  to  the  newly-ap pointed 
Archbishop  of  Paris,  the  Ultramon- 
tane successor  to  Durboy,  who  was 
itiurdered  by  the  Commune,  and  who 
was  himself  a  steadfa!*t  opponent  of 
the  docbrine  of  infallibility  :  — 

UoHTASia  (VnaiJ),  No?.  26.  ISH. 

MoxsEiGXEun,  —  If  I  had  not  been 

very  i It  and  infapablu  of  wriiing  a  letter* 
I  nljdulii  lon^  bcfure  this  have  addressed 
to  you  my  rcaptfctlul  welcome.  I  wiiih  at 
least  to-day  to  say  to  you,  monseij^neur, 
wUat  it  appears  to  me  .  perhaps  does  not 
refpiire  to  be  said,  that,  Uke  all  my 
brt'tliren  in  the  priesthootl,  I  accept  the 
decrees  of  the  Comicil  of  the  Vatican, 
Any  thing  which  I  may  before  that  de- 
cision have  written  upon  that  subject 
wliich  is  contrary  to  those  decrees  I 
effjyjc. 

Be  pleased,  monseigneur,  to  send  me 
your  blessing.  A,  Gratry. 

Father  Hyacinthe  does  not  accept 
this  new  letter  of  Gratry*8  as  being 
equally  convhicmg  with  those  which 
it  recalls.  Writing  from  Munich  on 
the  23d  of  December  to  his  *'  very 
dear  Father''  Gratry,  the  Pere  Hya- 
cinthe proceeds  to  gauge  the  moral 
and  intellectual  value  of  this  brief 
and  wholesale  recantation.  Not  quite 
agreeing  with  the  Archbishop's  esti- 
mate of  the  matter,  he  observes 
pointedly  that  such  effective  letters 
as  those  recently  published  by  his 
correspondent  against  the  new  dogma 
can  hardly  be  disposed  of  by  the 
mere  statement  that  he  **  effaces " 
them,  especially  when  confiing  from  a 
writer  who  insisteil  but  a  year  before 
that  he  **  had  received  orders  from 
God "  to  write  as  he  did,  and  was 
prepared  to  suffer,  if  necessary,  for 
the  truth^s  sake.  Father  Gratry  had 
not  simply  asserted,  but  proved  by  a 
**  demonstration  as  logical  as  it  was 
eloquent,"  that  th©  whole  question  of 


papal  infallibility  was 
by  fi*aud,"  and  had  indi 
whether  God  needed  such  (J 
and  now  "he  writes  in  aa  < 
hand  style,  which  both  snipi 
saddens,'*  to  say  tJiat  he  sin 
faces  "  w  hat  he  wrote  before, 
not  w*onder  at  Father  Hyacif 
rowfttlJy  asking  if  "the  tr 
human  souls  are  heroaftei 
treated  in  this  manner  in  thfl 
of  Christ.*'  Before  lie  can. 
effect  any  thing  by  his  rwji 
Gratry  must  refute  as  well  m 
his  former  arguments,  and 
why  —  if  such  be  indeed  tli^ 
he  has  ceased  to  regard  thai 
Council  as  "  an  assembly  wit 
thority,  because  it  was  with 
erty,"  and  wdiat  test^  he  wa 
suggest  to  discriminate  a  shu 
from  a  real  one.  Father  U] 
continues:  — 

^'  If  you  admit  the  twopretendi 
of  the  personal  and  separate  in 
of  the  Pope  absque  ctmMmmi 
and  of  his  universal  epiaoopil 
tion,  do  not  attempt  to  gift 
interpretation  which  is  oppoMf 
evMcnt  and  natural  meaning  cf 
crees,  the  only  (>ne,  moreover,  y 
accepted  and  imposed  by  the  R< 
thority,  but  show  to  us  how  that- 
agrees  with  the  facts  of  h'tstoi 
you  have  so  leju'nedly  establii 
discussed.  Then,  my  dear  F^ 
only  then,  you  will  havw  **pbi 
conduct  in  harmony  with  yx3m 
tions,**  as  the  Archbishop  of  ] 
written  to  you,  and  you  will  have 
"  new  authority  to  defend  the  \ 
religion,*'  which  is  at;  proet^nt  ] 
cofiipronused.  For  my  own  part 
dread  tlie  most  fur  it  is  not  Uie  a 
and  loyal  scepticism  of  the  a^ 
of  revelation  ;  it  in  the  uocoa»'(i 
ticism  of  those  who  place  a  faU 
ity  and  a  false  unity  above 
Tlue  first  consolidates  the  sac* 
by  the  very  assaults  which  it 
itifXiernaUy;  but  the  other 


Gratrg^  E_ 


eOBsaeaoe. 


L  wUX  not  vfifitt^ 


indeed   htirm 


neb  a  •dkool  offiei  «s^  < 
Id  iMe  l&esr  fritk.    It  ■ 


Is  if   BOltiMteHB 

il  im  tibe  bee,  «ad 
BO  toBgvr  oslf  tlie 

I  &BA  tmiit.'ii  of  niw 

irwlKi,  ID  Fr 


.  .  It  b 

Jtft  who  lure  ew  Im4  it 

nee.    Tbe  ntawi  aT  iIm 

tbi*;  itii  tbe  MCRt  aa4 

tio|a  iior  i—nA ;  iiii 

of  error  wydi  I 

•ottftollMr  ihaa  tiHi 

will  vainljr  imf«  Id 

bo  difficult  tn 
or  iiftore  ieai^rbxikg  >»- 


the  relfoba  oMBCt  ham 
f  Falbcr  Gfmtoy'i  LeUeci 
(ib(»p  of  3LiiiQe& 

>  lniMigQJstioo  M 
of 


flO  flttiefa  tbeolo^i^  m 


1 


380 


From  Our  Washington  Correspondence. 


trausforming  himself  from  th€  \m- 
torian  he  was  into  the  histariographer 
of  the  Court  of  Prussia.  Seyhel 
and  Schmidt  are  the  latest  specimens 
of  that  school.  A  few  years  since  a 
salutary  reaction  had  commenced 
against  this  manner  of  writing  his- 
tory, 80  contrary  to  science ;  these 
isolated  voices  were  reduced  to  silence 
by  the  war  of  1870,  and  they  dare 
not  yet  make  themselves  again  heard. 

Another  accusation  of  Dr.  DoUin- 
gar's  attacks  the  French  revolutionary 
preachers  against  society  and  family ; 
their  demagogues  constantly  at  war 
with  the  established  order  of  things. 
The  reproach  is  merited;  nothing 
has  caused  so  much  injury  to  liberty 
and  to  the  i»eace  of  Europe,  nothing 
has  contributed  so  much  to  bring  dis- 
credit to  France,  as  the  excesses  of 
the  French  ratlicals. 

But  do  we  not  find  in  Germany 
even  some  true  imitators  of  this  ex- 
treme rudioalism  ?  Has  not  the 
school  of  the  critique  absolue  of 
Feuei'bach,  of  Bauer,  of  Strauss,  been 
the  moBt  efficacious  auxiliary  of  the 
communists,  of  the  materialists,  and 
even  of  the  poor  Rochefort  who  fab- 
ricated that  famous  Constittition  ? 
**  Article  L  There  shall  be  nothing. 
Article  11.  Nobody  is  charged  wath 
the  execution  of  Article  I.'' 

Is  not  Karl  Marx,  President  of 
the  International,  a  didciple  of  that 
school  ?  In  tlie  cri initial  movements 
of  184S  and  of  1870,  the  German 
demagogy  advocated,  the  French 
demagogy  took  the  part  of  armed 
action.  Kow  Feuerbach  and  Marx 
are  graduates  from  the  German  uni- 
versities; and  it  is  ,to  **  German  sci- 
ence/' so  highly  vaunted  by  Dr. 
Bollinger,  that  France  owes  in  part 
the  education  of  the  people  of  the 
Commuue. 

**  The     German     science  "  —  thiis 


phrase  occurs  seveiftl  Hmm 

Bollinger's   discourne,     Thi^ 
theologian    reproai.*he8    ¥r4M 
presumption,    with    nationid 
But  what  could  be  more  p 
ous  than  this  mania  for  natlod 
science?    a  mania   especiaJljf 
with  the  universities beyooJMH 
They  p»roclaim  a  Germai^^l 
German   virtue,   a  German 
and  they  mean  by  that,  that  b 
precious  things  exist  with  tbei 
degree  of  superiority  unknowa 
other  nations.     By  the  sido  < 
preteusions  where  is  there  aa 
for  French  vanity  ? 


FROM  OUR  WASHLVGTOX  0 

SPOXDE^XE. 

.  .  .  Th£  municipal  contei 
on  in  this  city  seems  to  b* 
phase  of  the  irrepressible  coi 
the  ages,  between  Old 
Soon  after  the  advent  of 
Lincoln,  the  **  old  residents  " 
ington  prepared  to  resist  tl 
ences  of  the  new  comerS|  kna 
erally  as  '*  Yankees/'  At  \ 
of  the  war,  the  old  regime  i 
posed  to  be  defunct.  The  w 
had  become  infused  into  the  b 
porate,  and  improvements  111 
of  Northern  cities  betraii  to 
posed  for  Washington.  Tl 
residents "  resisted,  and 
ments  were  hiudeied.  Af 
Congress  gave  the  Bis  trie  t 
bia  a  new  government. 

This  government  under  G<i 
instituted  K  comprehensive 
of  permanent  improvemeti 
*'  old  residents  *'  were  in  a 
resorted  to  the  courts 
special  election  by  the 
they  might  in  some  way 
plans  of  the  •*  Yankees." 
were  overwhelmingly  he, 
both  tribuBalS|  and  the 


Oiar   Wiukutgto*  CorrefpondtJiCt. 


381 


\  to  be  going  cm.  The 


of  tliepflitty 

\  tlaa  in  his 
ivestigatiiig  CominittBe;. 
mimUion  he  admitted 
taremeots  on  bis  stnet 
.  the  value  of  his  piop-^ 
lis  house  more  eligible, 
health  of  the  oeigh  bar- 
new  sewers  laid,  added 
eiices  of  water  and  gas^ 
One  of  the  committee 
j^  be  complained.    **Be^ 

id  rather  ham  the 
^  he  replied.  That, 
le  whole  story  of  Old 

let  care  fore tiquette,  but 
what  it  is,'^  said  a  lively 
oas#  of  Bepresentatives 
iqnette ;  and  when  the 
turely  and  on  advisedly, 
jctng  upon  an  early  day 
nneot,  the  House  sum- 
I  Of  not  80  much  upon 
liey  as  of  deportment 
eren  its  own  will  under 
Congress  will  hardly 
Ldie  early  days  of  June, 
M  accumulated  and 
nmlating  business  of 
ta  idle  to  expect  short 
Me  who  complain  of 
De  consumed  by  our 
forget  how  vast  is 
legislation  must 
le  establishment  of 
before  it  has 
sr  ratio  than  the 
Aplisb  that  bttsi- 


tjv  pnctica]  msoamfEAmaOf  artber 
thaA  by  gjovisg  woida.  Il  is  diffi- 
cali  III  tluin  Qwm  piig-tRMft,  or  Hie 
eiTil  wrrioe  nftsB;  snd  ereii  tte 
litgHN  *s  A  g>ci^  €sae^  bM  dleputed 
frooi  politicSy  t&oQgb  ^ei«  be  wbo 
still  linger  imder  his  shadow  with  de- 
list. We  may  m  well  make  np  our 
minds  to  it^  — dw  old  men  doqnent 
bate  bad  tlwlr  day.  Coogress  ta 
oonalantly  teodmg  to  become  an  im- 
mense ^  TeUaon'sy"  grappling  with 
work  in  tbe  iBoat  bazd^eftded,  on- 
sympatbetie  bosiiMm  aamiev;  and 
with  all  its  eoncentzatian  is  not  un- 
likely to  be,  before  long,  a  oootinuous 
assembly,  holding  it»  sessions  through 
tbe  year,  and  adjooming  only  for  short 


The  relief  attempted  by  the  new 
Apportionment  Bill  is  problematical 
Those  who  have  witnessed  from  the 
galleries  the  charming  order,  quiet, 
and  harmony  that  reign  supfeniij  in 
a  House  composed  of  two  huiicJred 
and  forty-three  members,  will  be  de- 
lighted to  know  that  for  the  ensuing 
decade  we  are  to  be  favored  with  two 
hundred  and  eighty-three ;  a  clear 
gain  of  forty  members,  or  about  six- 
teen per  cent  added  to  the  intoUect 
and  weight  of  the  House.  This  in* 
crease  seems  to  have  been  suggested 
more  by  the  size  of  the  Eeprosents- 
tivea*  Hall  than  by  any  pressing 
national  need.  The  vast  spac«  to 
there,  and  what  else  can  be  done  witb 


S82 


From  Oxtr  Washington  Correspondencer 


it?  A  meraber  of  {he  KcViraska 
Legislature,  anxioua  to  get  rid  of  a 
governor  he  did  not  like,  said,  ^*  The 
power  of  impeachment  was  put  into 
the  Constitution  /or  to  be  used" 
Congress  seems  to  have  conchided 
that  the  vacant  space  in  the  liepre- 
Sttntfttives'  Hall  was  put  there  for  to 
be  filled,  and  they  have  proceeded  to 
fill  it.  Various  opinions  obtain  as 
to  the  effect  of  making  a  house  so 
large,  th<i  weightiest  judgment  of  the 
wisest  heads  being  in  favor  of  it.  If 
there  has  been  any  buying  or  Bun- 
combe in  the  House,  an  increase  of 
numbers  will  render  both  more  diffi- 
cult;  and  by  abolishing  the  deUcs 
and  easy-chaira  which  make  each 
member's  place  a  sort  of  private  office, 
for  his  convenience  of  letter- writing 
and  miscellaneous  business,  a  closer 
attention  to  legislation  will  be  en- 
forced. It  will  assimilate  the  popu- 
lar branch  of  our  Congress  more  to 
the  parliamentary  bodies  of  Europe, 
where  the  House  of  Commons  gets 
along  exceedingly  well  with  over  six 
hundred  members,  the  French  Cham- 
ber of  Deputies  with  live  hundred, 
and  the  Italian  Parliament  with  quit© 
as  many*  With  our  new  apportion- 
ment, each  member  will  represent 
one  hundred  and  thirty-three  thou- 
sand people,  and  will  have  his  hands 
full  to  answer  one-half  their  reason- 
able demands,  to  say  nothing  of  those 
that  are  unreasonable. 

The  opponents  of  the  bill  fear  that 
the  fuller  representation  will  result 
only  in  greater  difficulty  of  action  j 
that  it  will  but  inten.sify  the  disorder- 
ly element^  and  multiply  the  obstacles 
to  a  rapid  and  siiccessful  transaction 
of  business.  Representation  neetls 
to  be  complete^  they  admit;  but  a 
mob  is  not  so  efficient  as  a  firm  in 
the  conduct  of  affairs,  and  it  becomes 
us    to    consider   where    the    princi- 


ple of  literal  or  numeral 
tion  must  meet  and  recoj 
equally  insurmountable  pri 
unity  and  mobility.  Kept< 
may  not  only  be  repressed  b; 
force,  but  it  may  neutralise  i 
die  of  overgrowth.  One  ( 
suit  will  probably  be  t^i  ina 
already  too  strong  tendency 
gate  work  to  committee%M 
the  individual  member  of 
bility*  However,  the  bill  hi 
the  forty,  waiting  like  oii«^ 
ready  to  come  in  an<l  shon 
they  can  do. 

The  Education  Bill  is  of ; 
terest,  and  in  its  very  nat^ 
our  sympathies*  It  propose! 
lisli  an  educational  fund,  lUH 
ply  the  proceeds  of  the  pul 
to  the  education  of  the  peop 
maintenance  of  common  sell 
parties  agree,  at  least  the^ 
that  the  people  should  be  i 
but  some,  and  those  not  the 
telllgent  and  high-uiindi 
that  more  harm  than  go<: 
wrought  by  the  bill.  It  is 
for  the  assistance  of  the 
its  provisions  must  apply 
all  the  States.  But  thi^ 
States  have  already  their  k 
lished  school  systems,  and 
ence  means  disturbance  and 
doubtful  benefit  and  cert^ 
ance.  Nor  is  it  clear  that  f 
would,  in  the  end,  be 
Grant  that  the  several  Statu 
and  disorganized  ;  still,  say, 
sition,  our  American  prind 
good.  The  State,  like  the  ii 
33  schooled  and  strengthoai 
ertion,  not  by  assistance,  j 
nity  cannot  be  lifted  higli4 
has  power  to  rise  ;  and  wo  i 
linquish  the  idea  of  self -gc 
and  self-help,  even  in  strvs« 
ty  or  incapacity,   without 


From  Our  WaskingUm  Corrupondenee. 


383 


-m  to  the  social  £iibzic  than 
k  to  prerent. 

r,  it  is  not  certain  that 
lirect  object  would  be  ac- 
L  What  is  ererybody's 
3  nobody's  business^  in 
as  well  as  in  handicraft, 
and  straggling  State  know 
and  powerful  goTemment 
o  its  aid,  and  one  great  in- 
sxertion  is  remoTed.  Bat 
md  powerful  government 
means  exercise  the  watch- 
lous  jet  loving  supervision 
)ff  dependency,  which  that 
ncy  would  exercise  over  it-. 
to  itself. 

read  the  despatches  which 
over  the  wires  to  every  part 
ontry,  one  would  imagine 
n  was  an  extensive  prai- 
of  pleasure,  in  which  the 
i  sunflowers  of  fishioQ  pa- 
dresses  and  oiMirt  traim, 
smiles  to  gay  cavaliers. 
from  one  reception  to  an- 

&ave  this  kaleidoscope  sen- 
the  butterdies  and  bum- 
,  and  glance  at  the  real 
sanctifies  and  makes  more 
lie  shadow-scenes  of  sorrow 
Here  walk  the  firaeraat 
the  heliotropes,  sweet  aljs- 
»pe  jessamines,  of  a  higher 

he  most  useful  in.«titTitions 
home  for  frienJless  boj%, 
:own-  It  takes  from  th^s 
3  who  have  no  home,  and 
ioQS  sects  in  its  manaze- 
e  Unitarians  have  been  Izr 
IS  patrons ;  and.  in  cocLnec- 
tbe  home  for  girls  on 
zeet,  it  is  intended  to  pre- 
ikben  for  useful  Irves.  In 
e,  neat  dieae,  with  an  at- 
mj  an  met  m  ssket  with 


loaded  boskets,  gen^oosly  filled  by 
^le  market  dealers  as  an  aid  to  the 
noble  men  and  women  who  have  at 
a  great  self-sacrifice  supported  these 
institutions. 

St.  Ann's  Infant  Asylnm  is  in 
charge  of  die  Catholie  Sisters,  where 
are  fireqoently  a  handred  stray  waifs 
of  humanity,  with  no  label  but  that 
of  want,  and  tenderly  eared  for,  in  a 
large,  airy  building  onee  the  resi* 
dence  of  a  foreign  minister. 

In  the  vicinity  is  the  Colambia 
Hospftal  and  Dispensary  for  Females, 
aided  by  ihe  city,  azMl  also  by  gov* 
emment,  eotxbining  charity  for  the 
poQE^  and  comfort  ix  ihe  wealthy. 

St.  John's  Episcopal  Hospital^  for 
in  and  svSering  children,  was  gotten 
up  sid  is  eared  for  by  the  Protestant 
SistezB  of  Chari^  w1k>  leave  homes 
of  re&nemen^'^  which  their  nobU 
sd^^aerifice  adds  tike  hij^^iest  graee. 
One  who  last  summer  refused  to  go 
to  a  £uluof!xaUe  watering-place  had 
the  noble  reward  c^  saving  the  life 
she  so  tenderly  nursed.  <Pby«i'-ians 
of  skUI  give  th<:;ir  time  arid  vi«it«  in 
aid  of  zriii  aj*efaj  ebarity.  O/nnwrtwl 
with  it,  in  anothfrr  baildlng,  i«  a  S';ho'/l ; 
and  two  day-*  in  a  w*:*rk  otw?  f/f  th« 
Sisters  dispenAej*  grx:eri*!«i  and  rifAh- 

by  the  wesJr.i.y  liUrmJity  of  tli*9  •^>- 
cietr. 

Anotilier  Ca-riiol  1*:  hf^prHH  In  in  lJii« 
ricinity.  f'^r  ♦::.«r  '>i'i*rr  ':fiiid/tjn  tj4  i\m 

to  earn  a  It- n^  .u  uM*ffrjl  arid  iJMit«fiil 
employ  menr.M. 

In  trie  itririi^tdLat^  virjinity  ///  thu 
War  ljK'^rn,t^.rii*^utj  un  tfi*5  \n/um  for  I  \m 
OTp:ian«  '/  -^r**:  »'>l'ii#rrs  »nd*  •miotn 
in    uKe   I^V:  wiuf.     J'L<«  di/ft:<'.t>/r«   arw 

iii^gii  ffL  tl**:  roll  *A  fikUtM, 

3^ortL  of  t\it:m:  iu*ut»t'u/nn  is  iba 
Looi^e  fiouk*!,  fr/uu^W  by  tiuf  wsalttiy 


From  Our  Washington  Correspondence. 


banker  Cliarles  Corcoran,  as  a  iwemo- 
rial  to  hid  wife  and  dun gl iter. 

Here  those  who  have  become  re- 
rlnced  find  a  home^  and  the  comforts 
to  which  they  have  formerly  been  ac- 
customed. The  rent  of  the  Arling- 
ton Hotel,  and  one  thousand  dollars 
per  month,  are  devoted  to  its  support, 
"  You  are  all  my  guests,"  is  the 
inscription  and  idea  which  is  fully 
carried  out  in  the  chaste  and  elegant 
furniture,  the  solid  silver  and  fine 
table-linen  which  covers  the  table 
spread  by  a  delicate  consideration. 
i/Llmost  if  not  the  first  to  enter  the 
home,  was  one  of  the  school-teachers 
in  Washington ;  and  her  death  was 
the  fi ret  that  occurred.  Like  Mount 
Auburn,  the  home  was  consecrated  by 
the  talent  and  useful  lives  and  mem- 
ories of  women.  We  come  now  to 
the  iraposinjj;  and  immense  building 
called  the  Treasury  of  the  United 
States.  Others  have  described  it, 
surrounded  by  its  lovely  parterres  of 
flowers  :  we  will  look  at  it  in  its  be- 
nevolent aspects.  Sandwiched  in 
among  the  numerous  clerks  of  the 
other  sex,  are  hundreds  of  industri- 
ous women^  some  of   them  for  four 


hundred  dollars  per  year  -] 
with    equal   accuracy   tb< 
clerks  who   recjeive   a   much ' 
compensation.      Their  earsin^ 
cate  their  children,  or  support  tlj 
valid  parents   or  brother  or  \ 
Many  take  part  in    mi!?si(mH 
and  other  worthy  objects. 

Never  deaf  to  the  appeal 
ity,  tasteful  articles  to  oma 
homes  are  brought  to  gla 
lieve  the  wants  of  some 
the  world^s  great  struggle  for  a  1 
This  may  seem  a  triding  d^in 
but  connected  with  the 
and  fact  that  cultivated  won 
proved  their  accuracy  and  hd 
positions  of  tru8t,  it  is  a 
to  the  courtesy  and  higher' 
zation  of  our  present  goTemil 
Only  a  glance  can  be  given  to 
more  prominent  institutionsv  «W 
the  Woman *8  Christian  A^oda 
the  various  asylums,  the  laTg«  1 
denee  Hospital,  so  admirablr  tuai 
by  the  Catholic  Sisters  of  ' 
and  the  asylum  for  the 
dumb,  80  thorough  in  its 
that  some  of  the  pupils  fill 
trust  under  government. 


)LD   AND    NEW. 

Vol.  v.— APRIL,  1872.— No.  4. 


if  wMdergoiug  •  eanqiiete  cban^.  from  Did  to  l^etr." 

MurTBurEZTo .  —  Mikado  cf  Japati, 

Japanese  embassy  has,  before  this  time,  proved  to  our  people, 
t  is  so  difficult  to  make   our  people  imderstand,  that  one 
1  nation  is,  in  this  case,  dealing  wiih  another. 
Japanese  forms  and  methods  of  civilization  are,  indeed,  very 
It  from   ours.     But  a  nation  vhith  lias  kept  internal  peace 

*  hondred  years  may  well  claim  that  it  uuderstandtj  the  euseu* 
nciple  on  which  Christian  civilizatioD  is  babed  better  than 
iristendom  itself. 

Japanese  social  system  very  closely  resembles,  iu  some  im- 
;  particulars,  the  feudal  system  as  it  existed  in  half  iluro]>e 
six  centuries  ago.  But  the  Japanese  have  wrought  out  bome 
from  this  system  which  Europe  did  not  aiiain  ;  and  if  the 
accounts  may  be  relied  upon,  of  the  gallant  surrendt-r  wlii«:li 
id  many  of  the  chief  of  the  Jajmne^e  i>r:ncefc>  have  lua^J*;  iu 
up  revenues  and  reducing  mllitarv  e-;ia:)libhiuentt  to  vvlilrli, 
le  memory  of  man,  they  and  tlieir  fatherb  weie  entitliid  ;  if  it 
that  they  have  done  this*  in  the  interest  of  a  truer  nationality, 

*  general  improvement  of  their  ji^rojile.  there  ilu^  h«:<rn  one 
noblest  passages  in  the  history  oi"  the  worid,  \i'iou;j:IiI  out  \u  a 
which  but  yesterday  was  unknown  in  tiie  wondV  lii^Loiy. 

n  Com.  Perry  ojiened  the  iortuniLte  n*':;otiation  wiiicli  Ijas 
L  as  we  believe,  in  such  advanta^je^  to  r»'»:.i:  '^ounirii-.v,  hr  in- 
ihe  Japanese  court  that  he  ^^'\^,>  j»!o\i'.led  with  ("hin^-M;  ami 
interpreters,  and  was  j>repared  to  Li*':j'):.iaie  *rith<'i'  in  ChinrM: 
'utch.  as  they  might  prefer.  It  \va«^  the  '»ij!y  h<;jiouh  hliiJi<lrr 
led  by  the  sailor  diplomat.  Jt  wa>  ]>!*:*;iM.ly  as  if  u  KiriH-Jj 
&dor.  addressing  Mr.  Fisn,  should  ujioiogize  for  his  own  iy.no- 


wmmtb^  IB  J^  of  CoasroM,  is  the  ymar  ItS'Z.  by  Ytmrnimuitt  or  mc  Vut*  Aitu  fi(«.w,  lu  Uu-  utfU:« 


3S6 


Old  and  New. 


ranee  of  English,  and  add  that  he  was  provided  with  a 
a  Dutch  iDterpreter,   and   that  he   would   comi' 
American  government  in  either  language  which       .^       jM\ 
Tho   Japanese  court  and  the   Japanese  nation   do  not 
Chinese  as  being  their  equals;  and  they  are  right.     In 
important    element  of  language  alone,  tho  Chinese  are  on 
sadly  beneath  the  Japanese  and  all  other  civilized  nations, 
probably  be  safely  said  that  the  Chinese  nation  has  advi 
politics,  in  science,  and  even  in  religion,  as  far  as  it  can 
while  it  is  hampered  with   the    Chinese  language.     The  Ji 
language,  on  the  other  hand,  is  a  language  which  is  able  to 
ideas  which  are  expressed  in  any  other  language  ;  it  is 
elastic.     The  philologists  even  say  that  it  has  radical  relal 
the  tongues  of  Western  Europe,     It  is  certain  tliat  the 
are  used  to  it  at  home,  attiiin  with  wonderful  facilit)*^  the 
of  other  lands. 

Our  artkts  have  been  the  first  to  give  credence  to  the 
Adniiral  Perry  and  other  travellers,  who  have  assured  un  fi 
beginning  that  this  was  not  a  semi-barbarous  but  a  civilixed 
with  which  we  have  now  to  do.  The  Japanese  a,vt  has 
much  to  learn  in  European  schools.  But  it  is  as  certain  that  ^ 
some  of  it^  conventionalities,  and  still  more  in  some  of  iu  uncoi 
tionalities,  the  artists  of  European  tradition  have  found  much 
they  had  to  learn,  though  in  the  simpler  works  of  the  Japanese 
cil  or  graver  which  have  found  their  way  to  us.  There  is  a  li 
disregard  of  that  bugbear  of  dead  symmetry  which  works  j^^rae 
tesque  effects  upon  our  landscape  composition;  a  disreLfinl 
which,  if  we  are  right,  our  bolder  landscape  painters  have 
hints  already.  Mr.  Jarves  has  illustrated  the  lessons  to  be  g 
in  this  new  school  in  a  very  careftd  and  interesting  essay, 

We  have  never  forgotten  the  intelligent  daring  of  a  y  ir^ 

officer  who  appeared  on  shipboard  at  every  port  which 
ron  visited,  and  in  face  of  all  prevention,  whether  of  our  owe  ol 
or  of  his  own  government,  pursued  his  eager  inquirii- 
methods  of  naval  warfare.  He  was  arrested,  if  we  remeui 
ly,  he  was  threatened  with  punishment,  but  still  he  penfei 
The  last  time  he  visited  any  of  the  ships,  being  hurried  off  by 
of  his  native  companions,  he  slipped  a  paper  stealthily  whc 
might  be  noticed  after  his  departure.  The  young  midshipmet 
others  as  careless,  were  greatly  amused  when  they  read  ia  hi^ 
lish,  learned  with  such  difficulty*  "  Give  me  the  recipe  for 
cap»i.'*     Very  possibly  none  of  those  young  gentlemen  v 


Old  and  New.  387 

I  it-  What  was  not  to  be  laughed  at  was  this :  that  this  young 
had,  even  in  that  period,  seen  the  weakne.ss  of  his  country'H 
Bay  establishment.  The  excuse  for  the  retainiii'^  the  in;it/:h- 
so  late  in  the  Japan  army  was,  that  the  min^^ralocjy  of  J;i[iari 
lOt  afford  flint  suitable  for  fire-locks.  Here  was  a  yourr^f  u/'U- 
an,  who,  when  the  percussion  lock  was  still  a  nov^:Ir.y  in  thft 
es  of  America,  was  asking  himself,  and  strivincj  to  U:am  from 
ts,  how  it  could  be  introduced  in  the  u.«e  of  th':  ili-arrn-frd  for<;/rii 
apan.  A  nation  which  can  b':>aaC  of  such  mrrri  UKf-A  ndt  \^:  ^bfr^ild 
he  competitions  of  civilization. 

here  is  another  s:ory  of  th^t  time;  of  rii^^:  'r^,;.i  ifil  patiif-xif: 
rt  made  by  two  Japanese  gentlemen  to  leave  *h!-:!r  o^^ri  '';o  .riP.rjr, 
iefiance  of  the  policy  of  its  govemr::eri-.  a:  r.^Ar.  ilaift.  ^cA  f/9 
im  with  Com-  Pern"  to  Amerl!':a.-  W^:  ir*^  ^Li-i  Vj  r«:ca*.  nKisn/ 
les,  trusting  that  they  still  IlTe  v.-  enV  y -i-e  -..".  ..v.:.:i  '-.?  *  v..«ff 
iey.  They  were  L-sa^l  K'>;«ii  in  i  K^t-v,-l..:  .i..  iri.r.,:.  TV.i*:-/  dr^it 
board  the  flac'-*Lip  by  s:e;il:l:-  ir.  -t  .  l.-j.  v.:^  .•-:■  „:•;-..•.;■•-  —  ..a«,.-.^ 
t  word  in  advance  tLi:  they  -w^.-t:  -  IsmI.-.-.i^'  i-*.  r:.*yJA.^y'..  —  \.cA 
ged  to  b."*  broazb.:  :o  omerliA-  -W^:  1;l7*-  i*.  ...•  ..  i-t.  .":i':i'i 
Iff  hence  to  tou,  unaMe  :o  tj  ii«:r-e  tLui  ui^-.i-  :.*-iv*>-.:<  =•.*<«■•.  *.f.«i 
»,  or  twenty-fire  de^eess  H'vr-ui  i-ji  »«-.--r.r..  '  Ii  -.lUr.**  :av\.  .:.  ".\'.&. 
Utific  precision  of  tLi.:  *--Lr.e:iiiV.i."..  *<-.»u.*M/...*..i-  v -..i.".  «..■/»*<  v.** 
cry  of  btinj  tl--:*  ■::i.".L-rrti  hzjii  ■:-.'-..i.:ir»:  '  '.•.'•■.  ,'■•:";  :'.•...■. 
nd  to  return  tlrii.  :*;-•  i-T./.^a.'.iL..  ;-::l<«. *".!'.  r/.i:  .i  ;  \'*.  ■'-  -u.- 
oned.  He  ':•:  ili  *•:■:  It-.u"!  tiur-'  L/:t-  '.!..■:  ..'  ..•'.;  ^.'s;.  .''.••'.' 
K.  ihey  are  tLe  rj-t  ii-l:—'*  •.:'  rioi/.  •  •.  r  v  '.-'Mr  .."r 
lie  chemist.*  JLji"e- til  i^.'tii*  ^T^rt't:.  .*••..«•:' -i^i  u.  ".u.. •.".•?  '.'.m  i.Ms^- 
depend e 2.0'*  -^a  Ia-J  i;L.'.jj:^t  v  :.i. :  i«- l  ..h*.  !.•■;»  .''  ..»•.  lu-^v.'i- 
w  of  n:tr»r, — ice  ::  tiiiT  »i-ti- vi  .-' ib.»:i-.'-i  v  l.*  .•:;•..  -.i'.  ;:t.  i.'.i* 
>ly  is  £ir  tLe  ■:iLT:L.:»rr^;i.    uni     ■''    .uiih^-lju.*.    ■.;»•.  -    i-  *••;< 

d  niK>n.     TTie  z:-"^*"-:  *'.;;»:'-i-:ii    -.".ni     ut;  i."t.      '••'..      .   -   •'  -i    ■    '••. 
ip«  that,  in  li't  '.;:ti-tii*:":!t  .*:*   --lUt   v  .'•■!:.  .•,.  r,.";t».i'    .:i.    ■<  '■   '•■; 

be  larsrer  rC?/:.'  .:'  '^it  -.Jitmuj.':::  ;       *^   i.*    ii:i*:.'     i       • ' 

date  dtUfciii'i  -:r  -t-  in'v  *•'•:•.  wwi  ik.   :    i    •!  »   •■  ■i  •   

ibmic  zo  thiJ  ■i.-*itLrtii'.'i  ■.•:  2-4i!::;Lii'..  iA  ,■.'•■  ;     ..;i-    •«.••■       •.''.*• 

rt  to  thj>5^  •:•:  Lui^ 

S  nali'-'rrS  'fir -2. '*ili*    *H'VrJ:     j'    .!»r    !;i;"ii  I-   ■    ■'.  ■  '  •■' ■••■'- 

e,  if  ihey  •viz..*  l  ju't*  {".i::':'-'  tiir  v  :  .  ■  . ■■'  •'  *  ■  «'■ 
theT inisn  r-"-  ':'-  u^jr  r-T**  •.»   .•..:-';;-iif'     •     •...>.  ■• 

■  good  friecj-ii  "vu-t  luicriuiiL  am    v  •■•■•.  .  ■  ■ '. 

there  "ara*  4  ruuui   vu-ji    v-,   U'":rti-r".    *.    .     ;■    v     ,'••    • 


t/ .«•!«( 


388 


Old  and  New. 


domestic  discipline  which  it  was  our  duty  to  enforce,  when,  for] 
tain  reasous  best  known  to  England,  she  ceased  to  belieye  in 
trade,  her  general  panacea  of  evil,  and  would  hare  been 
binder  our  immediate  supply-     When  Mr.  Adams  writes  his  me 
he  will  tell  us  how  she  was  persuaded  to  jield  that  point  in  i 
ment.     And  when  the  history  of  the  late  Confederacy  is  writ 
shall  know  to  what  straits  it  was  reduced  for  want  of  the 
ply.     Now  that  we  are  within  thirty  days  of  Japan,  we  are 
thirty  days  of  nitre  not  furnished  from  English  mines. 

We  have  sometimes  quoted  on  this  page  the  lines  in 
or  another  poet  of  our  own  has  attempted  to  show  the  my 
union  in  diversity  of  the  Old  and  the  New.  But  wo 
quoted  lines  which  rang  with  a  truer  poetry  than  the  add 
Iwakura  made  to  the  House  of  Representatives  at  Washington  < 
6th  of  March,  It  is  the  representative  of  the  oldest  for 
order,  who  speaks  in  presence  of  the  representatives  of  the  i 

Mr.  Speaker,  ancl  honorable  members  of  the  House  of  RepresentatiTesj 
United  States  of  America :  On  behalf  of  the  ambassadors  of  Japau,  < 
ereign  and  people  whom  we  represent,  wo  tender  to  you  our  sincere  tha 
warmest  friendship.    We  fully  appreciate  the  distinguished  honor  which  I 
us  face  to  face  in  presence  of  that  mighty  power  which  rules  the  great  J 
repubhc.    Grovemments  are  strong  when  built  upon  the  hearts  of  an  ( 
ened  people.    We  come  for  enlightenment,  and  we  gladly  find  it  here* 
neying  eastward  from  the  empire  of  sunrise  toward  the  sunrising*  ^ 
behold  new  sunrise  beyond  the  one  we  before  enjoyed.     New  knowledg 
daily  before  ns ;  and  when  a  completed  journey  shall  have  passed  in  rei: 
encircled   globe,  we  shall  gather  together  our  treasures  of  knon 
membering  that,  however  we  have  advanced  toward  the  sources  of  I 
onward  move  has  revealed  to  us  a  farther  step  beyond.     The  Govemn 
Japan  already  appreciates  the  value  of  an  enlightened  policy  tov 
all  nations.  And  otir  united  assurances,  on  our  return,  will  confirmi 
pie  at  large  the  friendliness  of  feeling  so  frequently  expressed  lit*reta 
now  so  generously  exhibited  to  this  embassy.     In  the  future  an 
commerce  will  unite  our  national  interests  in  a  thousand  forms,  as 
water  will  commingle,  flowing  from  our  several  rivers  to  that  oommo&l 
that  divides  our  countries.   Let  us  express  the  hope  that  our  national  fri 
may  be  as  diflScult  to  sunder  or  estrange  as  to  divide  the  once  blended! 
composing  our  common  Pacific  Ocean. 


A  March  Chronicle.  389 

A  MARCH  CHReNICLR 

BT  JOHX  BURROUGHS. 

kKCH  1.  —  Tbe  first  day  of  spring  it  up.     In  imagination  I  am  thfsre  to 

the    first    spring  dav!      I  feic  help  him.     I  s«e  th<=:  oh iMr^^n  playing 

change    the  moment    I  put   my  aboat,  ddighteil  with  the   .rf>^/rt  and 

oat  of  doors  in  the  morning.    A  the  re.-umption  of  work  :    irif.  sr/ioke 

i,  gusty  south  wind  was  blowing,  g^yea  up  through  the  ihiriiny  h^ze  :  the 

gh  the  sky  was  clear.     But  the  farm-hou.*e  d>>r  hZ&adA  or^n,  a-rii  let^ 

ight  was  not  the  same.      Ther*»  in  the  aftrrn-jon  rsuri :?:?;•=; -y^ic  I.vh  f.,f 

«a  interfusion  of  a  new  element,  heroalrl  orh:'ie>.  i*  lu  rh^  w^i-:  and 

ten  days  since  there  haii  been  a  in  the  morriir.  j  t'r.r  :rre-r:  '»]:y-,r...-i:^  in 

just  as  bright. — even   brighter  the  -priri^  r^-.-.n,  ar..-v>r  *.!;*  ■',.*..  vr'  rhe 

wmzmer,  —  a  clear,  crystalline 'lay  wil.l  doi^lc  i:eer-;^  r.i,ru*i  vwi  4r>»-r/'% 

''ehmary.  with%oching  vernal   in  them. 

but  this  day  was  opaline:  tliere        A^  I  ir?,!I  '[.r.  .i*r.    ".i. -   T:.xt'\c.*':  f 

a  film,  a  sentiment  in  it.  a  nearer  .see  the  ^!r"..*  !".ri"-.     TV..*r.  -..-:    ...y.V'ji 

BQach    to   life.     Then   there   wjm  '^■-.■m.i.-   h.L-    '-:■,>:.:".':    ';v.-.  ■. ,^    ..-.    j-..*r 

J ftesh,  indescribable  o«i'jr.  .1  breath  oiL-ice-  ir.  -!:«>.^  4-7-:^-  j/'-r*  r..ir*<.-<  '•/ 

I  the  Gull^  or  fbim  Flo r". Li  an  i  ci»».  -v.-h  ir'.'-.- ..i  '"-.■.■v..-.  ,^  •,!..-  -^  .■■.^. 

Cuolinas,  —  a  subtle.  persoisL^e  -irA  h-r  v..:  .v..j..-.  ..<  /..  ■:  /:■.  /  .*>:  •■  .vh-. 

tece     that    thrilled    the    nr-.n.-,*^..  xirh   /...*  :'.••:. r-'-,'-r»-M    i.-..:   jr.'.'i*^  .«-r?-;- 

ry  root  and  rootlet  under  groTir-.- 1  'd.-  h .r s.     ''  i .••-.•; .<   .;..■.•<  tr. • :  *  .* .» ^  .4r>. 

t  hare  felt  it:   the  hz-h  ■:!'  the  il.-.    '\*'.\:    :"■•■.  i::-.    j;-    i..-^    /r.- vf:. 

naple  and  silrer  p<:pLir  relt   ::.  ir.-i  v.-   x.  •.":.*    i/-   ■'i-'-.-i-  ../    -.■.     i... 

twelled   perceptibly  'iir^-r  the  -r,!/..:.-.     T  "—  -.•;...■  ..-i    .«'  -.•,'.»   ♦..!; 

The  robins  kneir  it,  m-:  Tere  Ti*t:.u'-.  .'■:.-     »,-.  —  ;.     u -.i-i     j.i-i./i; 

that  morning:  sj  wert  *he   ir'-.v  i/..:    ■.•-:i.;- ;  •:.-.     .'f   ".•■.•ii       .•.    *i,','; 

khixds.      The    sha-l    m^zAZ   h.i---  r  '".:*  -:'■'.-.■..      T'-.-^   :.-.--:i:i.-'.' ■•     ■    .«.. 

»n  il,  do^Ti  dc»rp  in.  tiieir  r^or:!-*  ru.i..-.  j  '. .    ■".    .*'■  y.r    v-  ;    ,»■•■•.    ....^ 

iKts^  and  leape^i  and  .->t>*:r:eii  .Li'.i.ii::  'liL^H-  !«;•:   v.i  .•.;.•;   .■  -a     ji-  •',■.    ...••. 

Mouths  of  the   river?,  rea^ij    v.  r -'•:•:■..  i/..:   v..:    :  u-.;     t.-r    ,i.-    . .»    .  •• 

vp  thezi  if  the  r^nial  i:::i:ii*n«*.H  "Zkuv.-.    '"   :»"i.. •<•-■. •••!     i...'    ■  ■.:! 
inaed.     The  bees  in  the h.-? *  i1.m^..        l.i    ;»•  ..i./-.- -::.-    .»    '■  ■!   ■       «•  "-i    - 

I  the  old  tree  in  the  ^'Xii.-^.  ni.  "rv-s    r.->   :i    ...m     i     .       .■■,-.  ..   i\ 

t  airoke  zo   ce'w  lire:  inii   -ii»*  h    .♦•■:;■:    ,''--,;i; -i    ■•       ••  .  . 

mating   animaL*.   the   b»*:ira    i:i«:  ■■.:••     ii'  iii-.i.-.       .»  :•     1  •? 

Idiuck*.  roUeii  ^p  in  thiMr -iii/.r:*!--  ".'♦i.i      :..■■•    *.  •    :  :i.'     .•    ;<■ 

■a  dens, — I  imajiine  the  •virrn-.i  :i  a  -.•  .'■■:  ■  .  .  ■«• 

led  erea    th-^m.    xnd   'Vi:i!k.i:ir-r:  ^.^v..:      .v  ' '.       •«•.•     f  ■ 

•ilag;zL-h  oirTTlarioo.  vr-.i^.r-  ■>       «■     ■  .•  ■     •     '■■■ 

Jen   in  the  afremoon   "hi^r*    vlj^  i;i.t   v.'r;.\.   i-  •.     •      .«•    ■«.■..'  .      '  «■ 

mell  0:  "^ai-'j^-*.  —  "he  drar  ^T^rti-j  i.'.    v  ■.•.-        ''     ■   .'••:•       •.  >'  ' 

in   the    :-p-a  air-     Tlin  ^.i-j-.-.r.u  .v^-.-.::.  -i  :     ^     ■■        f     ■ «■ 

ST  is  riki'g  t'i';eT;h«*r  :ii»^  niiMSji  i.iv"     -\       ■    ■,•.      .  ■•■  «•  «      /j-»* 

i  ^arien,  or  in  ziitt   i^id   :i»<     k  .;*•;.•.-.    i^.;..  r  j   •   •  .   : «•  ,..*..■  *«^ 

trittg  for  the  plough,  ajod ''}imm({  ir  *ii^:.i.:.7   '-     ••*'    ?    '?<     •-.•  .  ^u-J»J»»^ 


390 


A  March  CJironiclc 


making  the  air  resound  witli  the 
noise  of  their  wiogs  upon  the  stalks 
and  dry  shuck,  as  they  resume  their 
journey.  About  this  time,  or  a  Uttle 
later^  in  the  still  spring  morniag^  the 
prairie-hens  or  prairie-cocks  set  up 
that  low  musical  cooing  or  crowing 
that  defies  the  ear  to  trace  or  locate. 
The  air  is  filled  with  that  soft,  myste- 
rious undertone ;  and  save  that  a  bird 
is  seen  here  and  there  fiitting  low 
over  the  ground,  the  sjiortsman  walks 
for  hours  without  coming  any  nearer 
the  source  of  the  elusive  sound. 

All  over  a  certain  belt  of  the  coun- 
try the  rivers  and  streams  are  roily, 
and  chafe  their  banks*  There  is  a 
movement  of  the  soils.  The  capacity 
of  the  water  to  take  up  and  hold  in 
solution  tha  salts  and  earths,  seemed 
never  so  great  before.  The  frost  has 
relinquished  it^  hold,  and  turned  ©very 
thing  over  to  the  water.  Mud  is  the 
mother  now  5  and  out  of  it  creep  the 
frogs,  the  turtles,  the  crawfish. 

In  the  North  how  goes  the  season  ? 
The  winter  is  perchance  just  breaking 
up.  The  old  frost-king  is  just  strik- 
ing, or  prepai*ing  to  strike,  his  tents. 
The  ice  is  going  out  of  the  rivers, 
and  the  first  steamboat  on  the  Hud- 
son is  picking  its  way  through  the 
blue  lanes  and  channels.  The  white 
gulls  are  making  excursions  up  from 
the  bay,  to  see  what  the  prospects  are. 
In  the  lumber  countries,  along  the 
upper  Kennebec  and  Penobscot,  and 
along  the  northern  Hudt^on*  starters  are 
at  work  with  their  pikes  and  hooka 
starting  out  the  pine-logs  on  the  first 
spring  freshet.  All  winter,  through 
the  deep  snows,  they  have  been  haul- 
ing them  to  the  bank  of  the  stream, 
or  placing  them  where  the  tide  would 
reach  them,  !Now,  in  countless  num- 
bers, beaten  and  bruised,  the  trunks 
of  the  noble  trees  come,  borne  by  the 
angry   floods.     The   snow   that   fur- 


nished the  smooth   bed 
they  were  drawn,  now  tut 
nishea  the  power  thur 
down  to  the  mills,     O 
the  raftsmen  are  at  work  rtiniiti 
their  raRs.     Floating  Lslandi  < 
and    lumber    go    down   the 
stream,     bending     over     tht 
shooting     through    the    ripk 
bringing  up  at  last  in  Phil«i 
or  beyond. 

In  the  inland  farming  distri^ 
are  tlje  signs  ?  Few  an- ^  " 
suggestive.  The  suu  ha 
the  snow ;  and  in  the  meadows  ( 
knolls  are   bare,  ^d  the  $h 
gnawing    them    industrioasly. 
drifts  on  the  side  h  ills  also  begin  I 
a  worn  and  dirty  look,  and  wht 
cross  the   highway   to  beo 
letting   tlie    teams    in   l^>  tO| 
bellies.     The  oxen  labor  and  I 
patiently  wait  for  the  sb 
lease   them;  but   the   s^pin 
leaps  and  flounders.*  and  h  ddi 
not  to  give  up.     In  the 
snow  is  melted  arotmd  the 
the  burs  and   pieces  of 
absorbed  the  heat  till  they  ha 
half* way  through  to  the 
snow  is  melting  on  the  rnitk 
the  frost  is  going  out  of  the 
now  comes  the  trial  of  your  1 
tions. 

About     tlie    farm-buildtugs  ] 
awakens  the  old  fkmiliur  ch 
bleating  of  calves  and  laoibst  i 
answering   bass   of    their    di^ 
mothers;  whale  the  hens  are  1 
in  the  hay-loft,  and  the  geese  1 
in   the   spring  run.     Bat 
delightful  of  all  farm-work  opj 
rural  occupations,  u  at  hand, 
Bugar-raaking.      In   l^ew   Yo 
northern  Kew  England  the  beg 
of  this  season  varies  from  the  I 
the  middle  of  March,  sometin 
holding  oar  till  April     Xho 


A  Jiarch  Chromjcle^ 


st  between  the  fob  Aiid  frci=^ 
gins,  sugar  weathrr  l-epr.? : 
ZDore  efen  the  i-^'^iines-:.  i^t- 
sweet.  I  do  n-:*:  tn-jw  whhri 
(ophy  of  i:  is,  l»u:  i:  s<<-ins  & 
;ee-saw,  as  if  the  &-i»  cre-B- 
X  and  the  frK:  drew  :i  Qr-Tii : 
:ce&s  of  either  «^L•Jl*  ihe  f  i-w. 
e  son  has  got  pjwrr  :;*  ui.- 
frosty  there  is  no  Sv^p:  &Ld 
fnwt  has  Iwi  it*  jv-wer  M« 
Lgain  the  work  of  :L*  s-u. 

0  sap.  But  whrii  ::  fr^rtzn 
t  night,  with  a  brig:.:,  wirm 
day,  wind  in  the  wes?,  i^i 
)f  a  storm,  the  Trias  of  tie- 
irly  thriiL  P:rr:^e  thr  l-ark 
.  and  out  gushes  ih*  o-rar. 
juid.       Bat    Itrt    the    ■n-fLi 

the  south,  and  bl>w  moLs: 
1,  destT»>ying  that  cr:*piir?* 
r,  anil  the  dow  sja*.k-r:.s  a: 
ss  there  be  a  deep  srjow  in 
;  to  counteract  or  ne-jTriiL&e- 
:h  case  the  run  may  CjLitii.-je 
n  sets  in.  The  ro-j rh-c :  :i:-r  i 
one  would  not  :hi:/ii  t:*ry 
fnt  a  change  *j  q^ :■.*:> 
that  wrapper  of  drfi :.  -Iry 
Q«;h  or  more  tfiii:k.     I    i.iive 

1  I  put  my  hea'i  ou:  of  -i->jrs. 
he  air  on  my  bare-  chv^k.  ai;  i 
t h  my  n-ise  ;  but  t  ii  •- i  r  r.  •:-  rvr « 
:id  sruell  are  no  d  m-jo:  u^:*-r 
nbedd<rd  in  the  m'>i-:jr«^.  a::l 
s  any  tliini:  that  rr*:»>:.Is 
>  atmo»plK'ric  ch. 'in ::•.■>  it  i:s 
)o  not  tile  fish.  :h::,k  yoi. 
p  in  the  streams.  fe»-l  ev.-ry 

blows,  wliether  it  be  lio:  or 
not  the  frogs  and  newt?  a:;d 
derthe  mud  feel  the  warmth, 
e  water  still  seems  likf  ice  ? 
brings  l^egin  to  rise  in  ad- 

the  rain,  so  tlie  int'-lli- 
rery  change  seems  to  travirl 
der    ground^  and  forewarn 


A  "-ssT-ma"  seldoTn  lasts  moie 
thhZk  rw.;.  vr  "Lree  day?w  By  that 
time  th err  is  a  ciiLLre  zn  the  wrJitht-r. 
j*eilrii.:is  a  rt:ii-s:;iTn.  w:.:.:-h  ^^tkes  the 
fr:»si  Ij eAr.T  L.J  c»-t  c-f  iLe  grf»ni:J. 
TbeiL  lirfire  lirrr  ckzi  :•*-  another  na. 
iLr  TTrjes  mu*:  :»r  w:.ar.i  -up  ag-aia : 
trie  st-iTia  HiIis:  r-are  a  w}.:te  ta::.  aiid 
-  c-.r-nir  of""  ?:-Ii  Prrsently  the  sun 
ris^e?  cjrAT  aziii-  ail  5  cats  i -je  5nc»w  or 
Sr:f:ei.s  iLe  Lari  frozen  grouLi  with 
hi?  "tiean:*.  arif  :Le  trees  take  a  fresh 
stiTt-  17.  e  i •■:  y s  2"0 1  h  rju  gh  t h  e  w«d. 
eiLT'ty^r;^  o-T  tbr  I'B.kets  orihepans^ 
aL'i  TiK\Jii:niz.z  those  that  have  blown 
aw;.y.  aiii  the  •ir]"j:;r:ul  work  is  le- 
suiLr^i.  Bat  the  f  r>t  mn.  like  the 
£rst  ::.Tr.  is  a"  ways  the  best,  always 
the  f-'Iest,  a'iways  the  sweetest :  while 
trjere  is  a  p'^riry  and  delio-acy  of 
5aT:»r  alr'-t  the  «"jzar  that  iar  sur- 
T«is>e«  ai:T  sab-i*e-r-e:;t  vieli 

X  ... 

Trees  di3er  zn^i-Th  in  the  quantity 
as  w.- ji  a.s  ir.  the  OTsality  of  ^ap  pio- 
du'.^i  :r;  a  jiven  season.     Indeed,  in 


::v  or  ozi^ 


ne  h 


un- 


a  c«-*i»  ' r  ■"  r  .'. j*ri  ■'•! 
drri  tre-i.  .^?  "a!  If  a  difference  may 
:-e  oL-jer-.--.- i  :i.  ::.:•  restrr:-:  as  among 
:hit  z.-izi.\-sT  of  ■?  .rs  ::i  r^»:ird  to  the 
i:::lk  they  yfrlL  I  ha'.vr  fii  ray  miud 
now  a  •'  iiz^T'''ji<i"  :.'.-i:I'.*d  in  the 
lap  of  a  <i*}iT  of  the  Cat?kiil.  every 
tr-.-^  of  wh:.:h  is  kri.'wn  to  m*.-.  aud 
assumes  a  di*::::.::t  ir^dividuality  in 
n-y  thv^^hr.  I  k:io*.T  tiie  l»k  and 
the  •j-jaiity  of  the  who]e  two  :rj:idred  ; 
a:*  1  '.vhr:..  on  luy  ar-iiual  v:«i:  to  tlie 
Old  Lome*":eai.  I  v.:A  -trie  iia?  iM.ri*h».'iJ, 
or  fa'.!e:.  hef-re  t'l-  jx-.  I  fct-I  a  person  a  L 
i'»«s.  Th-y  i.r-  :a'1  •.•..•t^r.iiK.  and  liavt? 
yieMei  uti  tii'.ir  I:ft..'s  bl<»<l  fi^r  tlie 
pront  ■•:  f.v-.t  ^-r  tlin.M*  generations. 
They  star,  i  in  lit:!*.*  p:roups  or  couples. 
One  standi  at  the  liead  of  a  spring- 
run,  a:.l  lifts  a  large  dry  branch  high 
al.HV.e  the  wo«>ls,  where  hawks  and 
crjws  love  to  alight.  Half  a  dozen 
are  climbing  a  little  hill ;  while  others 


m 


A  March  Chronicle* 


Btan<I  far  out  in  tbe  fieltl,  as  if  they 
had  come  out  to  get  the  sun.  A  Hie 
of  five  or  six  worthies  sentry  the 
woods  on  the  north-west,  and  con- 
froat  a  steep  side  hill  wliere  sheep  and 
cat tl  e  graxe.  A  n  e<]  u al  n  u  mhe  r  c  ro wd 
Tip  to  the  line  on  the  east ;  and  their 
gray,  stately  trunks  are  seen  across 
meadows  or  fields  of  grain.  Tlien 
there  is  a  pair  of  Siamese  twinst  with 
heavy,  busby  tops,  while  in  the  forks 
of  a  wood-road  stand  the  two  brothers, 
with  their  arms  around  each  otlierti 
neck,  and  their  bodies  in  gentle  con- 
tact for  a  distfince  of  thirty  feet. 

One  immense  maiile^  known  as  the 
"  oM-cream-pan-tree/*  stands,  or  did 
stand ^  quite  alone  among  a  thick 
growth  of  birches  and  beeches.  But 
it  kept  its  end  up,  and  did  the  work 
of  two  or  three  ordinary  trees,  as  its 
name  denotes.  Next  to  it  the  best 
milch er  in  the  lot  iivas  a  shaggy- 
barked  tree  in  the  edge  of  the  field, 
that  must  have  been  badly  crushed  or 
broken  when  it  was  little,  for  it  had 
an  ugly  crook  near  the  ground,  and 
seemed  to  struggle  all  the  way  up  to 
get  in  an  upright  attitude,  but  never 
quite  succeeded ;  yet  it  could  outrun 
all  its  neighlxirs  nevertheless.  The 
poorest  tree  in  the  lot  was  a  short- 
bodii^d,  heavy-topped  tree,  that  stood 
in  the  edgG  of  a  spring  run.  It  sel- 
dom produced  half  a  gallon  of  sap 
during  the  whole  season;  but  this 
half*gallon  was  very  sweet,  —  three 
or  fii\ir  titoea  as  sweet  as  the  ordinary 
article.  In  the  production  of  sap, 
top  seems  far  less  important  than 
bod}*.  It  is  not  length  of  limb  that 
wins  in  this  race,  but  length  of  trunk. 
A  heavy,  bushy- topped  tree  in  the 
open  field,  for  instance,  will  not,  ac- 
cording to  my  ohsorvation,  compare 
with  a  tall,  long-trunked  tree  in  the 
woods,  that  has  but  a  small  top. 
Young,    thrifty,    thin-skinned    tiees 


ighS 


start  off  with  great  spitft, 
fairly  on  a  mn  ;  but  they  do  1 
ojit,  and  their  blood  i»  v^fij 
Cattle  are  very  fond  of  tap 
sheep,  and  will  drink  enoogl 
them.  Tho  hoaey-bee»  f 
their  first  sweety  and  the  eari 
takes  up  hts  permanent  abodi 
"spile."  The  squirrels  ab 
timidly  dotvn  the  trees,  anil 
sweet  flow  ;  and  occasionally 
lizard,  just  out  of  Its  wint 
ters,  and  in  quest  of  nowltil 
up  into  the  pan  or  bucket. 

Soft  maple  makes  a  t 
white  Bugar,  superior  iu  qafl 
far  less  in  quantity, 

I  think  any  person 
it  will  agree  with  me  ai 
of  sugar-making,  though 
tooth  for  the  sweet  iti^lf.  It  i 
that  it  is  the  first  spring  w 
takes  one  to  the  woods.  The  n 
just  arriving,  and  their  met 
ring  through  the  glades.  Th 
rels  are  now  venturing  out, 
woo<]iieckers  and  nuthatcbi 
briskly  up  the  trees.  The  ( 
gins  to  caw,  with  his  occ 
heartiness  and  assurance;  I 
sees  the  white  rump  and  goldi 
of  the  high-hole  as  he  flits  ai 
open  wood*,  ^ext  week,  or  I 
after,  it  may  be  time  to  begin 
ing,  and  other  sober  w^ork  al 
farm ;  but  tins  week  we  wi 
among  the  maples,  and  our  c 
shall  be  an  incense  to  spriugJ 
am  there  now  I  I  see  th< 
flooded  with  sun-light ;  I  m 
dry  leaveSi  and  the  mouU 
them  just  quickened  by  the  t 
the  long  trunked  maple-s  in  tb 
rough  liveries  stand  thickly  i 
see  the  brimming  pans  and 
always  on  the  sunny  side  of  t 
and  hear  the  musical  droppii 
sap  ;     the    "  boiling-plac«^*' 


A  J/flTCA  Cv^'frni^c^f, 


ktfal  camp-feamTe&  i«  j-zs^  'b^- 
he  first  line,  with  its  rrear  aj-.  L 
g     to     the     5o;iih-we>L      Ti=r 

of  its  axe  liiLzs  inr.'^i  ti-r 
Irs  hng^  irrtic*  --r  >r^&: 
oil  and  fccazn :  and  I  ask  i. .  iciir; 
C  than  to  wa:ch  and  te-i  :1t- 
r.  to  dip  the  sap  fr.m  ihe  rre*r 
ato  them,  and  to  r*ri-lr- ijl  :it 
ith    the   iifwij-cai   biTL'b   izi 

wood.  A  slijrb':  "L-rrrrze  i? 
g  from  the  west ;  I  carii;  tie 
lere  and  there  in  iLe  ifrerr:  ■•rn 
f  the  little  rilla  and  cre-k?. 
ig  down  the  sides  of  the  l:11=-  : 
"akening  s-Dands  abctiit  thr  fizn 
he  woods  reach  my  ear:  at^i 
rustle  or  movement  in  the  air 
ihe  earth  seems  like  a  pulse  cf 
ing  life  in  Nature.  I  svnii-atblze 
hat  Ter>iant  Hitiemian  wbj  likr^i 
•making  so  well,  thar  he  tb ought 
mid  follow  it  the  whole  vear.  I 
1  at  least  be  tempre<d  to  f-.J-o^ 
eason  up  the  mountain?.  camr»- 
ds  week  on  one  terrace,  next  werk 
ae  farther  up,  keeping  ju?t  l-h 
em  of  Winter's  garment,  and  just 
ranee  of  the  swelling  bud-?,  unril 
moke  went  up  through  the  Ia.?t 
ch  of  maple  that  surrouiitis  tlie 

laple  sugar  is  pecaliarir  an 
rican  proiiuct,  the  discovery  c-f  it 
g  ba»:k  into  the  early  history  of 

England.  The  first  sertlcrs 
3t  caught  the  sap  in  rude  troughs. 
^iled  it  down  in  kettles  slung  to 
e  by  a  chain,  the  fire  being  buil: 
»d  them.  The  first  step  in  the 
of  improvement  was  to  use  tin 

instead  of  troughs,  and  a  large 
!  arch  in  which  the  kettles  or 
ons  were  set  with  the  fire  be- 
i  them.  But  of  late  3'ears,  as 
IQesdon  of  fuel  has  become  a 
important  one.  greater  improve- 
I  hare  been   made.     The  arch 


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l-ri  jht 

zn-jiT'-z  ..■-.  I.  r,  L  .-tr  fu^r  :b-y  I  ^  ■k'rd  ! 

TLr  iri:::  vf  tiir  n:-.-:.:^:  was 
"  'I'l!  -r  '.  f  : ': ;  ■ '-'-'  •:- '^  j-rni  -.-J  - ".  ^y  -^  T\-h  e  n 
tb-r  z*rz'::^  vf  G.'i  d  '*::  ^  .w."  The 
w:l  J  Ji-.-'i  iiTVTiV  hv  m':l'i:T-:fi:-y?ii,  and 
tbe  d:.y  s-rfled  d-.-vm  ?■-.  s-.ftly  and 
lovin;:]/  Ti>.:i  'hr  earth,  t- nob  ing 
e vv n'  1 1 J i Mj.  li  1 '- : 2 l:  e v..- ry  : h i li -j.  The 
sky  viri'.ly  ..•ami:-  down.  Y'li  C'.uld 
see  it  a^u-.-nj;  ili-?  trt-t-  an«l  bi-tween 
the  bills.  The  sun  jKnirrd  bim-olf 
into  the  earth  as  ir.to  a  cup.  and  the 
atmo-i>]Rre  fairly  swam  with  warinrh 
and  light. 

In  the  aftCTu.A-^n  I  walked  out  over 
the  coTKitry  rxi-U  north  of  the  city. 
Iniiiimerabk'  c«'lumus  of  sni'.»li«»  were 
goinc:  "p  id  I  a  round  the  horizon  from 
burning  ]»nish  an-l  wec«ls,  fields 
being  i»'.irili».'<l  by  fin^.  The  farmers 
were  hauling  out  manure ;  and  I  am 
free  to  confess,  the  odor  of  it,  with  its 


TJie  Break  between  Modern  Thought  and 


IMSOci(ition«  of  tlie  hrm  atid  the 
stable,  of  cattle  and  horses,  was  good 
in  my  tiostrils.  Jii  the  woods  the 
ivcTwort  aud  arbutus  had  just  opened 
^doubtingly  j  und  in  the  little  pools 
great  masses  of  frogs'  spawo^  with  a 
milky  ting<?,  were  deposited.  The 
youth  who  accompanied  me  brought 
eoifle  of  it  home  in  his  handkerchief^ 
to  w^e  it  hatch  in  a  goblet. 

The  month  came  in  like  a*  lamb^ 
and  went  out  like  a  tamb^  setting  at 
naught  the  old  adage.  The  white 
fleecy  clouds  lay  here  and  there^  as  if 


at  Rsit,  on  lb«  faloie  «ky,    Tht  i 
were  a  perfect  emerikld ;  and  tbeii 
with  the  new  gold  o(  the  ftm  i 
lions  spriqkled  abotitt  weft 
gniae.     In  the  parks  and  ( 
was  a  faint  mist   of 
among  the  willows,  wheit 
not  only   a  mist,  but  a 
tain-fall  of  green.      In  the 
the   river    looked    bloe;    Uttj 
freshets  at  last  OTer;  aad  1 
settled,  and  the  jocnnd 
forth  into  April  with   a 
Qonfident  look. 


THE  BREAK  BETWEEN   MODERN  THOUGHT   AND  AS( 
FAITH  AND  WORSHIP. 

BY   H£NBY   W.   BELLOWS. 


Thebk  is  evidently  a  growing  dis- 
relish, in  an  important  portion  of  the 
people  of  our  time^  for  professional 
religion,  technical  piety,  and  theologi- 
cal faith-  These  were  always  unpop- 
ular with  youth,  and  people  in  the 
fluah  of  life  and  spirits;  but  this  waa 
because  they  called  attention  to  grave 
and  serious  things ;  and  youth,  as  a 
rule,  does  not  like  even  the  shadow 
of  truth  and  duty  to  fall  too  early  or 
too  steadily  upon  it  Restraint, 
care^  t hough  tfti In  ess,  it  resists  as  long 
as  it  can ;  and  none  who  recall  their 
own  eager  love  of  pleasure  and  gay- 
ety,  in  the  spring-time  of  life,  can 
find  much  difficulty  in  understanding 
or  excusing  it-  Of  course,  too,  care- 
less, self-indulgent,  sensual  and  frivo- 
lous people  have  always  disliked  the 
gravity,  and  the  faith  and  customs,  of 
people  professing  religion,  and  exhibit- 
ing special  seriousness.  They  were 
a  reproach  and  a  painful  reminder  to 
them,  and  rauat  be  partidly  stripped 
of  their  reproving  sanctity,  hy  ridi- 
cule, charges  of  hypocrisy,  and  bints 


of  contempt     But  all  the  ' 
was  going  on,  the  youth  and 
of  previous  generations  expwti 
time  to  come  when  they  ma 
render  their  carelessneas,  and  1 
verted  J    and    even    the 
scoffing  shook  iu  their 
at  the  very  doctrines  and 
piety  they  caricatured.     The 
lations  of  master  and  pupil  dd 
almost    exactly     the    feeling 
youth  and  levity   held  toward  1 
tuted  faith  and  pip^ 
two   since.     The    - 
still  thinks  himself  at  liberty  I 
his  master  niek-nameg,  to  pla/^ 
upon   him,  and   to   treat   wittt 
levity,  among    his    fellow-pup3 
tlie  teaching  and  all  the  ruh^  < 
school.       But   he   nevertheU 
cerely  respects  his  ten^  ^    - 
in  him  aud  in  his  tear 
pects  to  derive  an  indib|H>u«MUi]i 
eUt  from  them,  in  preparing 
for   his   coming   career.     So 
with  the  religion   and  piety 
fathers.     The  people   profoai 


Ancient  Faith  and  Worship. 


395 


be  creed,  the  elders  in  pietv, 
I  the  eminent  saints  in  profession 
L  practice,  although  the  voung 
L  dieir  jibes  and  jests,  their  resist- 
as  to  chnrch-going,  their  laugh 
aanctimony ;  and  the  majority  of 
i^le  then,  as  now,  were  not  fond 
tiie  zestraints  of  piety,  or  the  ex- 
5m8  of  devotion. 

Bat  the  alienation  to  which  I  wish 
draw  yoar  attention  now.  is 
Bething  quite  different  from  the 
fcanl  opposition  of  the  young  to 
aous  thoughts;  or  the  gay  to 
fere  matters;  or  those  absorbed  in 
■  present,  to  what  belongs  to  the 
bore ;  or  of  those  charmed  with  the 
B  of  their  lower  or  more  superficial 
nlties  and  feelings,  to  the  sugges- 
Mks  and  demands  of  their  deeper 
id  nobler  nature,  ^hat  the  body 
ttold  not  readily  and  without  a 
mg^e  submit  to  the  mind;  that 
■ngfatlessness  should  not  easily  be 
used  into  thought  fulness ;  that 
Mth  should  not  readily  consent  to 
ear  the  moral  cosiume  of  maturity, 
r  the  feelings  and  habits  of  riper 
BUS :  that  the  active,  fresh,  curious 
vstore,  who  has  just  got  this  world 
ith  its  gay  colors  in  his  eye.  should 
Bl  be  much  attracted  by  spiritual 
■ions,  and  should  find  his  earthly 
res  and  companions  more  frisoinat- 
ig  than  the  communion  of  saints 
r  the  sacred  intercourse  of  prayer.  — 
1  this,  to  say  the  least  of  it.  is  very 
ci^icable,  and  belongs  to  all  genera- 
ons.  and  hardly  discourages  the  ox- 
sienced  mind,  more  than  the  fan  Irs 
id  follies  of  the  nursery  the  wise 
odier  who  has  successfully  carried 
aBj<^der  children  through  them  all. 
It  IS  quite  another  kind  of  antipa- 
■j  and  disrelish  which  marks  our 
■cl  It  is  not  confined  to  youth, 
ir  tnweable  to  levity  and  thouglitless- 
■L    The  Church  and  its  creed  on 


one  side,  the  world  and  its  practical 
faith  on  the  other,  seem  now  no 
longer  to  stand  in  the  relation  of  re- 
vered teachers  and  dull  or  reluctant 
pupils  :  of  seriousness,  avoided  by  lev- 
ity: of  authoritative  truth,  ques- 
tioned by  bold  error:  of  established 
and  instituted  faith,  provoking  the 
criticisms  of  impatience,  caprice,  ig- 
norance, or  fijlly.  An  antagonism  has 
ariseif  between  them  as  of  oil  and 
water,  —  a  separation  which  is  nei- 
ther due  to  perio*!  of  life,  nor  stage 
of  intelligence,  nor  even  to  worth  of 
character;  which  does  not  separate 
youth  from  maturity,  the  thoughtless 
from  the  thinking,  the  bad  from  the 
good,  but  divides  the  creeds,  obser- 
vances, and  professions  of  Christians, 
from  a  large  body  of  people  who  in- 
sist that  after  a  certain  fashion  they 
are  Christians  t*>o.  an<l  yet  will  have 
little  or  nothing  to  do  with  profes- 
sions of  faith,  or  pious  pretensions,  or 
religious  ways  of  feeling,  talking,  or 
acting. 

Clearly,  it  would  not  do  any  longer 
to  say  that  the  worth  and  virtue  and 
indue noe  of  s«>:iery.  in  this  country, 
could  be  estimatwl  l»y  the  number  of 
communicants  in  the  churches,  by 
the  degree  of  credit  still  given  to  any 
of  the  long-believel  theological  dog- 
mas, deemed  in  the  last  ireneraiion 
the  slieet-an-.hors  of  the  .State.  We 
all  know  hundreih  of  i^eople,  who 
could  sign  no  cr^^ed.  and  give  no  the- 
ological account  of  Jheir  faith,  whom 
we  do  not  count  a*  n^-«.es=arily  less 
worthy  in  tL«>  si  jilt  of  0*A  or  man, 
than  many  wii ;  iiave  no  ditiiciilty  in 
sayincr  tiie  wiiole  Athanasian  Creed. 
Nay,  there  are  some  millions  of  jierj- 
ple  in  this  country,  not  the  least  in- 
t e :  1  i ge n t  <"ir  u se f ;; I  c i t i ze n s  i n  all  c aaes, 
wiio  never  ent»-r  a  cliurch-il^ior.  A 
generation  or  two  la'.k,  you  wouM 
safely  have  pronounced  all  these  ab- 


S96 


The  Break  between  Modem  TJiought  ant 


Be  11  tees  to  be  worldly,  careless  peo- 
ple, infidels,  atheists,  scoffers.  Do 
you  expect  to  find  them  so  now? 
Some,  of  course,  l»ut  not  the  major- 
ity. Indeed,  you  would  find  a  gtetvt 
many  of  these  people  supporting 
churches,  to  which  their  families  go, 
and  not  themseh^es;  or  to  which  oth- 
ers go,  for  whom  thoj  are  glad  to  pro- 
vide the  opportunity.  They  would 
tell  you,  if  tliey  could  discriftiinate 
their  own  thoughts,  something  like 
this:  "Public  worship,  and  church 
organizations,  and  creeds  and  cate- 
chisms, and  sermons  and  ceremonies, 
and  public  prayers  and  praises,  are 
doubtless  very  good  things,  and  very 
useful  up  to  a  certain  stage  of  intel- 
ligence, and  for  a  certain  kind  of 
character.  But  wc  have  discovered 
tliat  the  real  truth  and  the  real  vir- 
tue of  what  people  have  been  mis- 
naming religion  is  a  much  larger, 
freer,  and  more  interesting  thing 
than  churches,  creeds,  ministers,  and 
saints  seem  to  think  it  Here  is  this 
present  life,  full  of  occupations  and 
earnest  struggles  and  great  instruc- 
tions. Here  is  this  planet,  not  a 
thousandth  part  known,  and  yet  in- 
tensely provoking  to  intelligent  curi- 
osity ;  and  science  is  now  every  day 
taking  a  fresh  and  an  ever  bolder 
look  into  it;  and  we  want  our  Sun- 
days to  follow  these  things  up.  That 
is  our  idea  of  worship.  Then,  again, 
the  greatest  philosophers  are  now 
writing  out  tlieir  freest,  finest 
thoughts  about  our  nature;  and,  if 
we  go  to  church,  we  are  likely  to  find 
some  fanatical  and  narrow-minded 
minister  warning  us  against  reading 
or  heeding  what  these  great  men  say ; 
and  it  is  a  thousand  times  fresher 
and  grander  and  more  credible 
than  what  be  says  himself!  Why, 
the  very  newspapers,  the  earnest  and 
welJ-edited   oneSj   contain    mor^    in- 


struction, more  warning*  m 

terest  the  thoughtful  mind, 

best   serraoas;    and   why   81 

thinking  man,  who  needs  to 

with  the   times,  and  toe-ans 

his  own  thoughts  free,  go  wl 

or  custom  makes  it  common 

upon  inquiry,  doubt,  and  ^ 

' —  to  shut  out  knowled 

mony,  and  stamp  a  man 

cial  type  of  thinking  or  profi 

For  there  are,   you   obsef 

justice  to  these  thoughts, —  t 

instructors  to  choose  betweei 

generation.      Here    is    the 

with    its    ecclesiastical 

its  pious    exhortations;   its 

school  for  the  children  5  its 

al  meeting  in  the  we«k,  and 

day  teaching  and  worship,- 

knowledged  as  good  for  those 

them,  and  are  willing  to 

people  thought  or  believed 

a  hundred  or  five  hundred  _ 

and  hero  is  the  ratxlern  p 

the   wonderful   profusion  of 

and  able  books,  cheap  and  al 

and  treating  boldly  all  sub 

immediate  and  of  permanent 

and  here  are   the  reviews,  < 

and  monthly,  that  now  camp] 

themselves    and   popularijEe 

these  books  contain,  and  fu 

ical  notices  of  them  ;  and  the^ 

here  are  the  newspapers,  1 

in  variety  and  alulity,  that 

suggest,  and  bring  home  all 

and  fresh  thoughts  of  the  tid 

the   marvel   is,   that   most 

books,  reviews,  papers,  are  i 

terest  of,  and  seem  inspired  I 

thing  larger,  freer,  fresher,  to 

what  the  churches  and  the  ci 

urging.     Thus   church    relig 

general    culture    do     not 

longer  into  each  other^s  hi 

you  believe  what  the  men  o 

the  philosophers,  the  poets  mi 


Ancient  Faith  and  Worship, 

me,  you  cannot  believe  in  anr.    sides,     B=r 
apt  a  very  general  war.  in   -arhat    >:-:"!i  ec^uil  nz:  z<  :l 
I  creeds  and   cbnrches    coniTnonir    i-lr  «i  ■   L,Tr  ?::  ■•r- 
iet&     Accordinglr.  the  proiVsfr.:r?    k^iwl-i---  l.l  I  :«  >: 
allege,  the  phvsician*.  the Teacbers,    iLr.  aj-r  r^  ■:   :Vr  r-  * 
iKientists,  the  reformers,  the  pK-Ii-    of  G:»d   -r  i-ki :  ::•.-: 
^u,  the  newspaper  men,  tne  re-    :^  ■i:!i.?:.urLr^il  it::: 
Ipcn,  the  authors,  are  seldom  prc»>    CrTi-r:  -    :     ir^  r. - 
Ihg  Christians,   or   even   cLarcb-    trut:i.  iLr.r  sej^  i  :  ■: 

t;  and  if  thev  do  go  to  church    x^r-'yz    :z.  :i^  v.  rkr 
motires  of  interest  or  example,    er*--    :f  :':--   — -   ;. 
are  free  enoazh  to  confess    in    ir:.2i.t  :':.r   ::  _r  1  :r 
that  thev  do  no:  much  be-    ani  :-.-rr.     AiL    i 
I  what  thev  hear.  L  "x-Trr    /i  •  Lei    -■ 

ling  that  this  is  a  tolepab:j    :i^-i   t  >*-  l_-t  r.^-- 
:  acconnt  —  although  doTib:Ir=.§    r-in--:-^  xi :     L  r-- j. 
jerated  for  pictorial  effect — if     s^i  ^ir^i::   Tr-.-ri'-r 
delisting  state  of  things  among    c-i-Jt.-rr.  :-r':.:  :lr 
finding  and  thinking  class  of  this    i--  '^-r  srr.  ■--.-  klin:, 
hr,  what  is  the  i«J  5:gnificai.Le      :  it?  r-  :    r  ;•-  L-  -. 
^?    Is  it  as  new  as  it  seems  ?  Is    :.z^':  ::  :ir  -  .  ^=:  ■  j 
Jlthieatemiig  to  the  cause  cf  r»r-     f  l-fr  Ir   r.  x  r-  -.^ 

£uth  as  it  seems?     Eeia.ei    s.w.  i.  fi  r   ^ .  I 
I  most  general  terms,  is  ft  inv    e'r.-s- :":  r~ --!--r  • 
[more  or  other  than  this  ?     The    T.-r:  fi  •.   ■^.  --7  r-  ,.- 
kand  worship  of  this  genera::.-.    :-r-  -1  r.  -  ..  . 
itbe  esprrience  and  cuinire  .:f  a      r  ?.--_-. 

L  of  this  generation,  have  te=.-    i'^'.:    •  .-.   .       :.--..- 
fallen    out:    aaL   as  in   ill    :V-  r  .l     .--  :  .-.- 
^Bar  <{Qarrels,  there  is,fvr  :he  rl=ir.    --i  :~:  /-   - 
Vksi     misunderstanding,    muriii    1  --:  ~  _-:  ;  .-  --^ . 
jfaosy and  misrepresen ration.     T?-r    :.':  *  .^   r-r---.-^- 
Ifc  and  piety  of  the  time  pronoun  je    -ntir  -  r .         r   *    - 
^cokore,  the  science,  the  t-ri-gre-?-    '  ::  :*n  -.— '.     -^     •.. 
^  philanrhropv,   the   p->lir!ea.   :?.*        i-ri  --   -  ■  .- 
iker  education  and  a iranoed  liters-    :!.r  :--rj-r  -     . 
^tobe  godless  and Chri^rle-i^s:  an:    r  -^r        J.:.  -     -    - 
^cnlmre  of  the  age  reta'.fatrr.  r-r-    T-r  :  -rr  *    .--.".  i- 
|fe}  with  still  greater  since  riry.  ir.  :r>    7  ■  ^"-  -    ■.'.-.    ■"  -■- 

facing  the  faith  and  wors'hip  of  :?.^     :    :*■-.-  

It  to  be  superstitious,  antipaTr-L    :.':^  -.  .:.      .     .-..-. 

HuMiitaL  and  special] v  fitte^i   .z.'.r    :    n    -  ^ 

(Mple  willing?  to  be  leJ   bv  prints    :  r  •..-'-■    ■ 

i  k^ling  ministers.  r  -.      'I 

fetw.  if  this  were  a  quarrel  berwr^n    z.%- 

fmJUkce  and  inexperience,  between    r..r.--T ;-. 

ri  and   bftfJ,    between   truth    and    '1  •:..:.:   ■ 

it  would  be  easy  to  take    t'^yAy  -i-  r.    -.    r 


S98 


The  Break  between  Modern  Thought  and 


which  inoT«  koowledge,  mote 
mare  love,  embfxlied  themselrc^  in  a 
simpler  and  gentler  ritnaL  The  ns^ 
tiMis  have  had  only  a  choice  —  not 
always  a  whoUr  Tolontary  one  —  be- 
tween terrific  superstitions^ and  more  or 
le^  reasonable  religions.  Christiani- 
ty has  prevailed  in  civilized  nations, 
since  Constantine^  by  accommodating 
ita  theological  dogmaa  and  external 
ritual  to  the  needs  of  sueeeasive  eraa ; 
beginning  with  coarser  and  tnore 
heathenish  symbols^  and  running  it- 
self clearer  and  more  clear,  as  the 
mind  and  taste  and  experience  of  the 
race  have  developed  **  sweetness  and 
light.*'  Bat  does  tliis  make  Chris- 
tianity only  a  human  growth,  and  so 
predict  a  coming  decay,  which  many 
se«m  to  think  has  already  begun? 
On  the  contrary,  the  decisive  fact 
about  Christianity  is,  that,  while  its 
intellectual  history  is  changing,  its 
early  records  are  in  form  fixed  and 
permanent,  and  that  its  real  progress 
has  been  uniformly  a  return  towards 
its  ori^nal  simplicity.  Other  faiths 
develop.  It  is  we  who  develop  under 
Christianity,  and  are  slowly  changed 
unto  the  original  likeness  of  Christ 
Christ's  statements,  Christ's  character, 
Christ's  words,  do  not  become  anti- 
quated. We  are  not  called  upon  to 
explain  away,  as  superstitions  of  the 
time,  any  of  the  certain  words  he 
said,  or  thoughts  he  had,  or  com- 
mandment4S  he  left.  True,  there  are 
critical  embarrassments  about  the 
record,  and  room  enough  to  question 
how  it  was  made  up ;  and  we  cannot 
always  trust  the  reporters  of  that  age, 
or  our  own.  But  when  we  get,  as  we 
certainly  do  get  in  hundreds  of  cases, 
at  Christ's  own  words ;  or  when  we 
really  see,  as  by  a  hundred  vistas, 
through  all  the  debris  and  rubbish  of 
the  age,  we  may  see  the  true  person 
and  bearing  and  spirit  of  Jesus,  we 


bciMtdf  we  xiDOoignisej  we 
iDg  whc^  tnualened  to  I 
placed  m  the  €«i^« 
code  of  saints  aad  s<a^  i 
tnre  and  m^enee  and 
collect,  wovikl  h^tut  just  the  { 
olted  relatioii  of  sii| 
that  he   did  to   th^ 
publicans  ami  kings  and  lii| 
and  noble  wimiefi  and  i 
of   his  own    day.     Wt 
hesitate,  any  more  tiii 
call  him  Master  and 
"To  whom  else  shall  wf 
hast  the  wocda  of  etiemal  lieii 

Those,  th^,  who  fear  1 
ture,  that  seieooe  or  ] 
ly  pushed,  that  leartung 
impartially  applied,  —  w 
studying  GodV  method 
or  his  method  in  le 
injure  permanent  ly  faith 
or  endanger  Cbnstiamty, 
must  either  think  tho  rel 
of  man  very  shaUow  0(r  very 
or  the  providence  oC  GcmI 
baffled,  and  the 
and  works  Tery  badly 
there  be  in  nature  or  in 
earth  or  in  our  dust,  in 
astronomy,  anthropology;  in 
the  lanfua^e  of  dead  eras ; 
guage,  the  geology  of  bi 
any  tiling  that  disproves  the 
and  providence  of  a  It 
holiness  and  goodneas 
worthiness  of  his  chanel 
moral  and  rt^ligious  nature 
his  accountableneaa^  his  ia 
the  divine  I  1  sin 

ority  of  Je-  / and 

tial  truth  ot  his  religion, 
means  let  us  know  it !  Wl 
we  allow  ourselves  to  b«  1»f| 
fables  and  f  '  '  ^s  and 
licves?      i*  ♦ith   of 

experience^  the  coniideoee 
who  know  and  love,  ai^d  baf 


Jiucien^  Faith  auH  JTorshih. 


snp 


uiiimau'  \7iti.  tin  ^i  •«!>«* 
r?iirw;.  ir  usual';.-  .su::i*.  riur 
iiL  i<iiiiiiiiT  mi-irru.-i'  iiwr 
11  iii»jn  fouii  Tilt*;  navi 
.lira.  uiiL  *?inTinui.  piiiaaii:''.. 
.  nitfdisMiu  11  uifji:  ^^iiri-tiiii 
::l  fliKiiiK;.'-  tiitm.  caimr  Ti 
:ti:iiin.  ti  i-f:h!H"f..Ti  t^iilruT*.. 
II r  nijiL  on:  laKi..  o:  iir.i!!tnt 
n..  !»'■  "HUT  li.'U'''^.  o:  a'  j'ou: 

J  am  iraut-  iir.r  m  im 
i;a*urt  ir  luai..  aiiL  mr  m 
.:»!*  H;:HUi!:t.  1:  v/miii.  ini: 
:.    i:    ▼'*!-!     ijii"    i.    siian**;: 

li-  njriirir^.  HOT  iirii".  1" 
m   I'h  pvi  rmn.  mr  iirmuir- 

*  iiiT»ilit*'.rw.  Ah  V-'!  iii''t  Dur 
:  tsi.iiiirm  vi:i  t«iinio-:ii:iir 
It    ,niui:uit!ir..  ir   zm    it*^i"i,. 

w*  ji^v*  *}r«ii:  vj-i  -:in 
mr  vni  uUt  uiiU'irr^'ri.iiL- 
ir.uiiL  crtttrw.  wi.i.  niM'i  ry*-^. 
irt  Htttjcmr  "^iru"!.  :  vt  ii.1 
iiewK.  vr^x  tiiiwHt  f^'tiiids. 
-rt  iKftsiiiur  *jiil  !     i*»!:;::i  il 

*  ri.i*  ic  -I.-***,,  m::  in* 
r  .  ::  if  im:  mm  nii-riT  i.ii:: 
:n_i*«tf  uiiL  •.•n:iu!L  ;i:'  i.*£rt'. 
iur-r**L    iijsTiiiir.    t»:  :,:i*    s.i;... 

iL  iiFiiti:..  uu:.  t.j-t^:'.:.<'L.  .!.  lj. 

**L  ii-iL  L-Tii.  viiTKi.;:  Li.rt- 
Tr;»t  ifaiii  iij ii*-: I'. 'Mvi:  •..:!»;, 
J  <i  ^.t'.i.  uiit  jLni-.si  :•  iT.'is. 
.  -Uiu:  i»»i':l;:s*  iu:-i.  >??:>  ■:. 
liArn-::*  t:;L.i.  h'.»*ii-.r*..  ;.iirrr- 
t-f    !•  .••-!. .:_r   i:    s'i*:r>     Li-i 

"I^.  Tl.-."'..  r-r  .  -J"!:*!  LT''..  s'.  -r  1-  •■:  . 

:  'L*  :i  T'-ij^Tu.  i-L'-  :irr*-;  ii- 
-tif-:.:  ki-  :v.i::iir2:..i..  viiri. 
.■i  z^   '^  !•  ■  •If***?:.- ~  T>r^::  -T. 

•    i.T    T^*-    tlllr*     SrliluTi-Tr  .   :'.  T 

iTTk.***  »'.fc'jl  oTiirr.  kji  .:  :* 


CTii!:ii)t*'S.  iJh»niiM»t>  rii;r  anultimaTi'^y 
T«  JjioiK.  11  i.  uiiti:  r.oiiiDnuiu.  rnaii 
eiriio:  o'^ir  j:in»v  in»riiTi..  Tiiiir  lairii. 
arr'iiip  s.iif!ii;'i  aiiL  :'u1"iiti  mr  n  luir 
:m;L.  am.  ;:iiHiiu:  zi\t  ututrf  ni.  i;u'.: 
aziL  iiiH"*— .*a:iiii..  v.Tan:  ii  tti»vii:nUi. 
liar  ''lmn■•:llll••^  rau^Mi:  •■jriuiit'  ir  •."mt: 
TiiTnu^M  iij;:  ]>»▼•'"  r^iuvriia  arnuh^ 
iiiii'Ti..  vinj'.i  sju/i*-  II.  Tiii'ir  i:jhiir}t- 
tor  Mr.-  iiavt  iii»v,.^  :4iM'i,.  Till-  rrf'ar 
Tiiiipiimr  iiHIiira'iMi::'  littVf  iiii;  riiuif- 
iriju.  K::iiiiiar^  jur  itmii.  j*iMt> ;  f^imi 
nifu  n:  sr)u..  mr  nitu  n:  stiiHi:.  *-  i-jow 
£:m»vi-,i      -ii!r     mai.    ifr^t^rs.    iii-'jup 

IIO'-VT     t*!;il'lH'C  '    '"     Sai(.    I*l>  :'nijT<fIllTlf^ 

ran-r  ii:  '.'Ilirsi.  "^n!,.  in  Lmw 
iH  I1-— ••'.>..  mr  ill  iaiL  v!iut  iiCTfiwi 
lif'-f!!  -f;i::K.  —  (i"''-:m  VJsUfin  !  Hi- 
i:ii*'V  »Jt.iu  tiiu:  iJiiL  *i:  k-ij*«wi!«(i;ff  : 
iif  (ziivv  uiai.  -na:  ius;  ti:  jiiiiuMditl.r. 
Ji.:M  "jiivrf'Hirf  irrtji.  r«:'^Ui:>  i*-rttjj:  iii 
L  :f'niTMri."7  c:-^Mr:it  r^nn.  h::h'1i:m..hi?*t 
u^  I..iiia.i.wa.  7r;jl'i*:i.r  iir-^-t^  Unr 
Tintrs:*"  ;i  'I  :«'rir»i:ir:a".  rfcn?;!.:*'  rnr 
7iri.;-v'  u«:.  *.l:"Um  v*  iiif»c:  r-urmn?.  nn 
'..T.ic.  i.ii^  ■.  ;.r:sv  ":  i>  ii;iai::..:i:.  7r 
h"  u: ;  ;"•*:.  :.:i.>s!  i  uri.:iij  uhl  i;ii.i.- 
rtvu:**':.  .  i.yi>::ii»L  hh:-.:.?*  v.  iKr**f  s.rjijiif- 
LiiL  111.:'.':  T  'ii.  * !.  l^  Tir.«:f.v:*':..  t't»s. 
aii:.  i -;.::•:.  :/  '.:**.-.:  ;.?:  r-.j.;;  :.;i.  .i:* 
w.iT*r*::j"*  :  i^■.■.^i■:^:•.i  ;»:  ;.:.a:\  i:i-.:  :i.i*p.v 
v'l  ?::•*' :■;..!•:  "*  .:. Si* ';..;•<•*».  1:  !>  :i;ir 
■:iv.:  ri'  -ri.:  :•;  :!.i-t  i_!i. ■,.<»>  '.!.^.:  .-.j;- 
-^  .i:.i  •:.  :■.:  .;  .^  :l::  .-  v.:u.  :t  v  i.i::L 
iL  :-T':-i^:.  :  1:^:.:  i.,:,u.  T.Lr;.:-v>  i-tjc: 
;  .:.iv-  L»Ti-u.*  i.;i.-  r».  v>  z.*.*^:    .1.. :•;•/. 

_■- :  V  :  :  L  ■«.'■_  :  u  ■  -.  :•:  :>: :  :• .  :  :?f 
.l:  • :  i  rv:  ^ .  . :  u  :":■;  K  :•;  '  ii  . 
.•:  r--i  :,  :••::  ."«:;■■:  :•«.:•:..  j  V;^ 
:  '^i  i  i.  •*:■  .  ■'  ■:■:  .:  :>.  ■:..  ..:.-.  y- 
:•  :-:-i  :/  :/  ..::■;:  :T;ii.  :■•:  ::.j^ 
:;i.:  *«..■.::■  n-- ;.-:•;  .1-?*; ::.:-.;.  iu 


:.!.■»  i   .r. -■-• 


400 


The  Break  between  Modern  Thought  and 


And,  on  tLe  other  hand,  how  much 
better,  both  for  faith  and  science,  that 
science  should,  at  a  time  like  this,  go 
without  religious  ends,  into  physical 
or  metaphysical  pursuits,  investigate, 
inquire,  test,  question,  in  absolute  in- 
dependence of  theological  or  spiritual 
results*  It  is  only  when  thus  free 
and  bold  and  uncommitted  that  her 
testimony  is  worth  any  thing.  Think 
of  Newton,  meditating  and  exploring 
the  solar  system,  in  the  simplo  Iotb  of 
truth,  without  let  or  hinderance  from 
ecclesiastical  intermeddlers,  and  com- 
pare him  with  Galileo,  lifting  his 
telescope  under  the  malediction  of 
the  priesthood  of  Rome, 

No :  let  science  be  as  free  as  light, 
as  brave  as  sunbeams,  as  honest  as 
photography  !  Encourage  her  to  chron- 
icle her  conclusions  with  fearless  and 
nnreproached  fidelity.  She  will  doubt- 
lees  make  many  things  which  have 
been  long  associated  with  religion 
Ickok  foolish  and  incredible.  But  it  is 
only  so  religion  can  slied  some  husks, 
and  get  rid  of  some  embarrassments. 
It  is,  in  short,  only  just  such  assaults 
and  criticisms  from  science  and  ex- 
perience, that  ever  induces  religion  to 
strain  out  the  flies  from  her  honey; 
to  dissociate  what  is  accidental  in 
faitii,  from  what  is  essential  and  per- 
manent. And  wlion  science  and  cul- 
ture hnve  gathered  in  the  full  harv^est 
of  this  wonderful  season  of  discovery 
and  speculation,  we  may  expect  to 
find  faith  stripped  of  many  garments, 
now  worshipped,  which  ignorance  and 
fear  put  upon  her  for  protection  and 
defence  j  but  really  strengthened  in 
substance,  by  the  free  movements 
allowed  her  lungs,  and  the  dropping 
of  the  useless  load  upon  her  back 
Then,  too,  science  and  philosophy 
will  again  resume  their  places  at  the 
feet  of  the  master-principle  in  our 
nature,  until  again  driven  away,  by 


new  disagreements,  to 

by  the  discovery  of  a  Uner  hi 

Self-culture  will  never 
worship,  more  than  golden' 
burning  fragrant  oils  will  cvwn 
sede  the  sun  ;  more  than  diggUM 
hoeing  and  planting  will  sapa 
sunshiDe  and  rain  from  liti 
Self-culture  ?  Yes ;  by  all  UM 
and  in  any  amount^  butf  not  h 
end.  When  people  look  to  I 
mental  gardening  for  the  cr 
are  to  feed  the  famine-fimittdfl 
and  not  to  the  pastures  aud  | 
as  they  lie  in  the  light  of  t| 
mon  sun,  they  will  look  to  ! 
for  the  characters,  the  he 
souls,  that  glorify  God  aud 
bless  the  world.  **  Thou  shi 
the  Lord  thy  God  with  all  thj 
and  thy  neighbor  as  thyself/''] 
is  the  irrepealable  law  of 
**  Seek  first  the  kingdom  of  I 
his  righteousness,  and  all  othe 
shall  be  added  unto  youJ 
faith,  duty,  devotion  to  God, ' 
humanity,  —  to  justice,  fp&edom,  i 
—  these,  and  not  self-culture, 
lifted  the  race  and  the  world  Ii 
acquire,  cultivate,  improve,  d«r' 
yourselves,  by  art,  mu^ic,  real 
languages,  study,  science^  exp^iii 
but  do  it  all  in  seeking  to  know 
love  and  serve  God  and  man. 
to  know  Christ,  and  you  will  1 
more,  indirectly,  than  though 
sought  all  knowledge  without 
thirst.  Seek  to  know  God,  and 
shall  £nd  all  science  and  cq 
healthful,  sacred,  harmonious,  i 
fying,  and  devout. 

The  break  between  moiiem  the 
and  iincient  creeds  and  worsbipy 
considered,  though  serious,  and  i 
the  utmost  pains  to  heal,  by  alj 
that  do  not  conceal  or  salve 
without  curing  the  wound,  i»  i 
manently  discouraging  to  i 


Ancient  Faith  and  Worship. 


401 


oonsidezed  Christian  faith.  Nor 
dl    the    signs  of  the  times  one 

For  —  after  alJ  that  has  been 
about  the  restless  and  dissatis- 
condition  of  the  critical  and 
riooB  thought  of  the  time,  and 
Kepticism  of  the  learned,  or  the 
ilative  class,  or  of  the  new  think- 
om  of  the  physical  progress  of 
ige,  and  the  decay  of  worship  in 
iterarr  and  artistic,  the  editorial 
poetical  circles  —  it  remains  to  be 
that,  leaving  this  important  and 
ible  body  of  people  aside,  —  no: 
J  employed,  and  not  without  per- 
1  warrant  for  their  doubts  and 
drawal  from  positive  institutions, 
me  remains  a  mighty  majority, 
rhom  the  Christian  religion  and 
■ieal  faith  and  the  external  church 
I  a  vigorous  and  unyielding  holi: 
K  practical  instincts  and  grar>d 
■oo-sense  and  hereditary  experi- 
\g  anchor  them  safely  in  po^iiire 
If  while  the  scepticism  rave?  wiib- 
ind  blows  itself  clear,  and  passes 
Christianity  first  a^l'lrM^ed 
f  to  common  people,  not  to  at -/A 
asm,  but  to  secure  the  attenrloi. 
be  moral  affections  and  the  Kp*iri':- 
powers,  instead  of  the  m^Az,iz 
nstanding.  It  has  lived  oii  iL^ 
t  and  conscience  and  necMis  iti*i 
Btngs  of  the  masses,  from  kiii  i.: 
B  practical  wisdom  arjd  £x*ti 
tntions  and  simple  faiiL  ik^wLvi 
i  and  always  retam.  C-'.-^rooi 
e  is  not  die  sense  that  is  c:'.'Iltu'>i> 
the  sense  thai  is  itiJx^tZi'jj'.c 
[  popular  faith  is  i-ot  tL^r  i^Vt  'A 
ue  ignorance  maased.  b^rt  'A  ibn.: 
iom  which  alone  enables  i^'.^vi; 
b  to  find  a  basis  for  f«*crl:ziz^  Lixi 
■H^  that  all  feel  to  be  beyoiti  uiid 
«  their  private  ignoiaz^ocr  co-  t^d- 

The  eommon  f«9^  win  liiic- 
to  hewr  Christ  ^*£y :  'ia««7  wZl 
M  last  to  hear  HBj  vbo  Ahvt  um^. 


It  is  easy  to  exaggerate  the  decline 
of  modem  faith,  and  to  misrca'l  the 
tendencies  of  the  timo  on  wliif^h  w«f 
have  been  dwellinij.  Thus,  parulox 
though  it  seem,  it  were  jijst  ai  trii<* 
to  say  that  more  p'ro:#i*  an:  'J^-li'^'-r- 
ately  inter-Tt^-d  i;i  Oiri-ti;*;!  faith 
and  worship  to-^la_v,  t5jari  a:  a.'iv  pn*- 
vious  era  in  the  hi-v^ry  of  o'jr  r*rj:- 
gion,  as  to  assererat^  *'u\\  ztyjTft  t>'-'>j>1*' 
doubt  and  rsr^ret  it.  T5jj»r;  frTfrr  f^f'jr*-. 
Both  siAtenients  are  trj^ :  aji'l  ^uhy 
are  reo:>nc:led  onW  br  :'.*r  fa.'.-.  *Jr^* 
it  is  on'iv  in  :rj!-  c*:'j:jr;.'  :rj»:  tXi'r 
ciaim-j  of  ia::h  a-j-i  wyrth.;^  havir 
been  popular] r  d-rViVri-  or  '.'ji:  :};«- 
people  were  *ri:^?:.«p-i  ot  a'.vwi^-i  f^ 
Lave  a:jv  fr.-^er.e:-  ir*,:  '.^r^.^or:  av^it 


tijem. 


T:.**  fferjera- 


vjf 


h'iiLjiTiiitT  :•  ijT  :rje  fjr%t  •..v^.e  *vr- 
vejt-i  a-ji  i-owii :  a.-ji  ;t  jl%  ivv.'j.'^ 
tha-T  wftli  z::i'.*n  W'l^^-T.f  ".rjar.  •n**'.'-  Itj *•/■»' 
are  al^:-  ."ivrt  f.crr*:*.     W.*.;,   'juvr*  j;j- 

tLere  aj-e  -j-.re  w  j/-.j  '.-r  iv/-.'^*.  .•..•r;f 
l*"Ct«^r'?  '.i  V  .\r* "  •-■ .  M"  :  •.  •.•^■-■•«t  yv.  ■. 
:ie  'i'^  .eT*'.r>.  'v.— *  *.'>■:.':»•;«  w  •• 
Ij". -re  rr .  ir i ■. •  .:t  *••.•;.'•■":  v  v. i'." *  %»".••••: 
*_ifli  '«'»'.■.:., •.!•.■. ',  i.jV  i..*'v.  ^  •.  \'A  ■'.  *  il 
1  Ltr*  ^  .  ■-•e  '.I'.  ' I »•*»*.■  •'j»'>  w  '.■  V.  • 
h  '.".•  'z. "' '.'".  '.' '.  r*'*" *.ii" '  ', •'  )•.*■■.'.  ' . *  *.•/•, 
^:  ::".■■.  •_*.*r'*  >      v  !;'..m;':  t  '.■.••■•.•..■.  i..v.i 

3*.  e   '«>?■■•,  I*      •.:«!.  ;j;'r.»'!«    '.«*    '/'  •  i- 

j;!.-;     lifV    «"i*      •     '.i:!'.-'*'    j.j'..'!      wm  • 

i'TILi^  J-''.»L.'»".. !**»».        '•■.•V*    '.".»■■.        ".v" 

V»*;*    '.•'    V'.»r»n";    :i"..i.'      •,     »* '  *■'    ■  *  >'' 
•.•»t*".    Il.sh*"  ♦    '.;u  I*:.     :■■■»     »•/.»■*.    ••'    ^t    '• 
—  n.',:ii»*''    :/.!*     *.;■*•'    '•''    *.••■.• -^ ■'•*■•'•  * 
ii*i.'i""'»'   '**'W  •.«•.•;  '•'•'    '•'    ••*   «    '•'■"'  .' 
•.:-.>"^h;    v»'    1  1.11:4..'.     ;    *»  '  •     "  •    ;.'«•.  y 

rw»  '.''  U'.n.'.*-  '•*;»/,.•.••.•  ■  ^.t  /.«'■■* 
li::imi>.;*.  uu'.  «:«.'.".i'.'".  .'  ■..*»*  .vv"«*  •' 
1:  i\  L   ;i»vufi;>tii!v   I.'.';    ivi*,*   »,!. 

M  k  "•'toHt  I"  MriUi4«'.i'.»i»  \  jf  •■\^^  •<•'  •'."^/'^. 


402  The  Break  between  Modem  Thought  and 


or  as  a  more  or  less  intelligeot  faith. 
Nowhere  has  it  a  etronger  hold  on 
society  than  in  free  America,  which 
falde  prophets,  with  their  faces  to  the 
past,  nmttered  was  about  to  become 
its  grave.  This  busy,  delving,  utili- 
tarian country,  without  a  past,  denied 
the  influence  of  ruins  and  the  mem- 
ory of  mythic  founders,  a  land  with- 
out mystery  or  poetry,  —  how  could  so 
tender  and  venerable  a  sentiment  as 
reverence  live  in  its  garish  day  ?  how 
so  sweet  a  nymph  as  Piety  kneel  in 
its  muddy  marts  of.  trade,  or  chant 
her  prayers  in  its  monotonous  wUder- 
uess,  ringing  with  the  woodman's  axe 
or  the  screeching  saw?  But  now, 
delegates  of  all  the  great  religious 
bodies  in  the  Old  World  are  visit- 
ing America,  for  religious  instruction 
and  inspiration.  Nowhere,  it  is  con- 
fessed, is  there  to  be  found  a  people 
so  generally  interested  in  religioni 
ready  to  make  so  great  sacrifices  for 
it,  or  so  deeply  convinced  that  its 
principles  and  inspirations  are  at  the 
root  of  al!  national  prosperity.  No- 
where do  churches  and  chapels  spring 
up  with  such  rapidity,  and  in  such 
n  urn  bet's,  from  the  ground  ;  nowhere 
is  the  miiiiistry  as  well  supported,  or 
as  inliuentinl  mcmbei^  of  society  ;  no- 
where do  plain  men  of  has  in  ess  and 
intelligence,  I  do  not  say  of  sci- 
ence am!  philosophy,  participate  so 
freely  in  religious  worship.  And 
since  all  political  compulsion  has  been 
taken  off  from  the  support  of  religion, 
and  it  has  been  made  purely  volun- 
tary, its  interests  have  received  even 
more  care.  There  is  little  doubt  that 
the  decline  of  religious  establish- 
ments, the  decay  of  priestly  author- 
ity, the  complete  withdrawal  of  gov- 
emmentid  patronage,  the  discrediting 
of  the  principle  of  irrational  fear, 
the  dispersion  of  false  dogmas,  the 
clearing  up  of  superstition,  the  growth 


of  toleration  and  charity,  i 
weakening    true    faith    or 
public  worship,  will   greatly 
and  strengthen  both.     For  it 
main's  ignorance,  weakness  a&dj 
that    lead    him     most 
Christian  worship  and  faith. 
is  a  worship  and  a  faith  of  bliq 
and  dread  J  but  they  have  no  i 
to  develop  a  moral  and  spinlu 
of  the  character  of  God,  or  t 
acter  becoming    man,  or  to 
the  spread  of  general  inteltjg 
mental  courage.     If  thougKt,  iti 
age  of  mind,  if  inquiry  and  in 
gation,   if    experience    and 
and    comprehensive    gragp,    ifj 
and   sound  reason,  and  ai:qa]K 
with  human  nature,  tended  to  I 
a  living  God  from  the  heart  i 
of    man,    to  disprove    the 
truths   of   Christianity,  or  to  I 
life  and  the  human  soul  lei 
aspirings    and     religioosy    th^^ 
would  be  on  iU  rapid  way  i^  i 
But   I   maintain    that  scienctj 
philosophy  and  free  inquiry,  1 
divorced    from    religious    instil 
and   dogmas,  were   never  m 
reverential,    and   Christian, 
they  partly  emancipated   thefl 
from  theological  or  ecclesiastic 
sure  and  suspicion.     For  ages,  I 
knelt  to  religion  as  she  went 
crucible  or  laboratory,  like  th«  \ 
passing  the  altar  in  a  Catholic  I 
dral,    and  with    as  little  the 
feeling  as  he,  simply  to  avert  i 
while  she  pursued  inquiries  shf  1 
would    banish    the   su permit 
pretended     to     boaor. 
knowledge   were    at  opposlto ' 
relfgious    truth   and   scientific 
finally  and  permanently  u 
different  standards.      How 
ing  to  religion  was  this  distrajrii 
light  and  knowledge !   how  iaidl) 
in  God,  this  faith  in  him  wbidil 


UlvttftttgAtuifi  I  how 

Cftttan  of  aU   tlie  leslz  maA 
ieh  are  rwittired  in  Um  eo^ 

of    erety   otli^r 

!     Retigioas  faitii 
aanm;  but  ita 

Ike  axioma  oC 

not  real  hSA  vindi  ^na 

rtigate   the   gromnia  of   ite 

It  k  Uiiifataiit  to  Ooi, 
Biat  be  doea  not  aOov  aa  ta 
gra;  lo4eauuMipn»i&af  b 
ifgfilBQaa  gisvaiaiMjfti ; 

tba  cndaotiaia  eC  hm 
eofeta;  ta  doaU  aatfil 
ItiooaU  J  oonTuiead.  If  tiia 
feallQ^  that  fiuth  la 
p  valigioaa  tivtih  to 


UiAti  the  xadkal  bdiaft  «f 

tiie  coraaa  of  la«^  tlK 

U  be  ao  ita  ioaviteUa  v^ 
falidelitT  asd 
Bat   la'ttat    tke 
titmga  ?     la  it  that 
;  Umm  myotic  f  or  mtiyt 
Havaooi  i«al  a 


M^j  ar  «ii<«- 

,_^ .  Hffeitf,  whl* 

u  1^  ti»«  iw^'  <^  ^ 

af  CWit  aa  k«  moM4§ 
^^^m ^#k,iioiiiiiy 

Tc^  if  ao|r  aiii  hM  4m4  Ui  !»•  it 

aa  Clttiit  UMilf  waa  in  kit 

W  kaa  baao  aal4  W  iMjT 

f,  t9  iUiuk  '-?*«r«al 


404  The  Break  between  Modern  Thought  and 


meanfc  onlj  just  what  he  said,  and 
was  understood  to  say,  in  bis  simple 
parables.  You  must  beliere  some* 
thing  not  less  incredible  and  abstruse 
than  the  church  Trinity ;  sometliing 
not  less  contrary  to  natural  justice 
and  common-sense  than  the  church 
vicarious  atonement ;  something  not 
loss  cruel  and  rindictive  than  the 
eternal  misery  of  all  who  through 
ignorance,  birth,  or  accident,  or  even 
perversity  and  pride,  do  not  hear  of, 
or  do  not  accept,  the  blotxl  of  Christ 
as  their  only  hope  of  God's  mercy 
and  forgiveness,  or  you  are  no  Chris- 
tian, Now,  I  hold  these  dogmas 
themselves  to  be  unchristian  in  origin 
ft  rid  influence,  although  held  by  many 
excellent  Christian  men.  I  believe 
that  they  are  the  main  obstacles  with 
many  honest,  brave,  and  enlightened 
men  in  our  day,  to  their  int^^rest  in 
public  worship,  aud  that  millions  re- 
pudiate the  church,  and  Christianity, 
which  is  a  different  thing,  simply  be- 
cause they  suppose  her  to  be  responsi- 
ble for  these  barnacles  upon  the  sacred 
!>hip.  It  would  be  just  as  reasonable 
to  hold  the  Hudson  Biver  responsible 
for  the  filth  the  sewers  of  the  city 
empty  into  it;  or  to  hold  the  sun 
answerable  tor  the  changes  in  its 
beams,  caused  l«y  the  colored  glass  in 
church-windows. 

Christianity,  the  Christianity  of 
Christ,  is  simple,  rational,  intelligible, 
independent  of,  yet  in  perfect  har- 
mony, —  if  it  be  often  an  unknown 
harmony, — with  philosophy,  ethics, 
science ;  true,  because  from  God,  the 
God  of  nature  as  well  as  grace  \  true, 
because  the  transcript  of  self-evident 
aud  self-proving  principles  \  true, 
because  guaranteed  by  our  nature  j 
true,  becauao  of  universal  application, 
unimpeached  by  time  or  experience. 
It  affirms  the  being  and  authority  of 
a  righteous,  holy,  and  all-loving  Ood| 


whom  man  can  serve  and 
worship   because  he  is  ma4 
image  ;  can  know,  by  studyi 
self;   and  to  whom  man  is 
related    by   reason,   oonscien 
a^ections.     It   affirms  divine 
and  w^or^hip   to  consist  in  ol 
to  God's  laws,  written  on  man' 
and   forever  urged    by  God^t 
It  affirms  the  present  and  pt 
penalty,  the  inevitable  con 
of    all    moral    and   spiritual 
doing  and  disobedience ;  the 
and  future  blessedness  of  W€ 
and  holiness.      It   sets   fort 
Christ  as  the  Sou  of  God  and 
man,  —  appellations  that»  dee 
sidered,  really  mean  the  same  t 
the  direct   messenger,  reprei 
and  plenipotentiary  of  Go«l,  — 
feet  moral  image.  It  insists  up^ 
putting  themselves  tn 
honoring,  loving,  an^l 
forming    themselves    into   cl| 
another  name  for  churches,  — * 
prayer,  meditation,  and  stud 
life,  informing  their  minds  an< 
and  shaping  their  wills  in 
ness,  which  is  the  ideal  of  h^ 
Its  clear  object  is  to  dignify 
noble  man,  by  presenting  G<H 
father ;  to  sliow  him     "       *   ^  i 
is  capable  of,  by  t*x hi  Jfl 

the  loveliness,  sanctity,  an<i  | 
his  awful  yet  winning  beai 
make  him  ashamed  of  his  qd 
and  afraid  of  sin,  by  arousia 
sensibility  in  his  heart; 
fence  in  his  path  by  beaut 
sacred  customs,  —  the  tende 
rites  of  baptism  and  commun 
duty  of  daily  priiyer,  the 
Scriptures,  and  respect  for  th 
Day. 

Here  is  a  Christianity 
dogmatic  entanglement ;  pUil 
earnest,  simple,  defensible,  \ 
bid  to  a  child,  yet   deep   ei 


Ancient  Faith  and  Worship. 


40a 


•tadjr.     For  it  is  the 

of  religion  that  are  the 

t     ftiid     glorious    mysteries 

hrar    tiwu       They   draw    our 

^B  wonder,   our  manly  rev- 

ftod  »ge'a  nnquencbad   enri- 

1  awe.    Do  we  ever  tire  of  the 

thm  horizon,  or  the  blue  sky, 

dawn,  or  the  sunset,  or  run- 

',  or  natural  gems  ?     Do  we 

i  of  ih«  thought  of  a  holy^ 

mil-good  Spirit  of  fipiritB,  our 

CNtr  Father,  or  of  hearing  of 

and  trust,  the  obedience 

lore^  due  to  him  ?     Do  we 

of  JesQS  Chfist,  considered 

fiioksa  iisage,  within  humaD 

of  God's  lore  and   truth 

rcf  aod  parity?     Do  we  ever 

lieaiing  the   wondrous  story 

obedient,   disinterested,  and 

BTbA  sacrifice  ?  or  of  the 
Ppb  graces  and  copy  his 
Into  our  own  hearts  and 
I  we  ever  weary  of  hearing 
hope  of  immortality, 
fortable  expectation  of 
Ifae  burden  of  our  Hesh, 
our  way  in  spiritual 
t»€>ar«r  to  God  and  the  light 
ILi«ter*s  face  ?  Who  can  ei- 
jbo  can  add  to,  the  real  force 
setioo  and  fulness  of  those 
id  pcomised  ?  Truly  received, 
m  with  every  day's  contem- 
;  they  fill  the  soul  with 
lllg  aw  ■      r  ;  they  prove 

ocMnnj  as  they  are 

arly  approached,  more  copious 
more  drawn  upon,  and 
hcrsd  as  they  are  more  fa- 
il la  tlie  common,  simple, 
frttth^  that  are  the  great, 
itlbley  powerful,  and  never- 
txtUba.  But  doubtlesa 
\  eoiirage,  personal  con- 
ad     aetf-watchfulneflfly    to 


maintain  personal  piety  or  religious 
institutions  under  free  and  enlight- 
ened conditions,  when  they  are  just 
beginning.  Wlicn  sacramental  mys- 
teries are  exploded,  when  the  official 
sanctity  of  the  ministry  is  disowned, 
when  the  technical  and  dogmatic 
conditions  of  acceptance  with  God 
are  abandoned,  when  every  man*s 
right  of  private  judgment  is  confessed, 
when  common-sense  is  invited  into 
the  inner  court  of  faith,  when  every 
man  is  ciitnfessed  to  be  a  king  and  a 
priest  in  that  temple  of  God  which 
he  finds  in  his  own  body  and  soul, 
when  real,  genuine  goodness  is  owned 
as  the  equivalent  of  religion,  then  it 
is  evident  that  the  support  of  reli- 
gious institutions,  of  public  worship, 
of  the  church  and  the  ordinances, 
must  appeal  to  something  besides  the 
ignorance,  the  fears,  the  superstitions, 
the  traditions,  of  the  Christian  world. 
They  must  fall  back  on  the  practical 
convictions  men  entertain  of  their 
intrinsic  importance.  They  must 
commend  themselves  to  the  sober, 
plain,  and  rational  judgment  of  men 
of  courage,  reflection,  and  observation. 
They  fall  into  the  same  category  with 
a  government  based  not  on  the  divine 
right  of  kings,  or  the  usages  of  past 
generations,  the  artificial  distinctions 
of  ranks  and  classes,  owing  fealty  each 
to  that  which  is  socially  above  itself, 
but  resting  on  the  consent  of  the 
governed,  and  deriving  its  authority 
and  its  support  from  the  sense 
of  its  usefulness  and  neccessity. 
We  have  not  yet  achieved  fully,  in 
this  country,  the  passage  of  the  peo- 
ple over  from  the  Old- World  status 
of  subjects f  to  the  New- Wo  rid  sta- 
tus of  citizens.  We  are  in  the 
midst  of  the  glorious  struggle  for  a 
State,  a  national  government,  which 
rests  securely  on  the  love  and  service 
of  hearts  that    have   created  it,  and 


406 


The  Break  between  Modem  Thought  and 


maintain  and  defend  it  on  purely  ra- 
tional and  intelligible  grounds.  It  is 
80  new^  so  advanced,  m  sublime  an 
undertaking,  that  we  often  falter  and 
faint,  as  if  man  were  not  good  enough, 
nor  reasonable  enough,  to  be  entitled 
ta  such  a  government.  We  often 
doubt  if  wa  can  bear  the  dilution 
which  the  public  virtue  and  good  sense 
in  our  native  community  suffers  from 
the  flood  of  ignorance  and  political 
superstition  coming  with  emigrants 
from  other  and  coarser  states  of  so- 
ciety and  civil  organizations.  We  are 
not  half  alive  tx)  the  glory  and  gran- 
deur of  the  experiment  of  free  polit- 
ical institutions,  and  do  not  press 
with  the  zeal  we  ought,  the  general 
education^  the  political  training,  the 
moral  discipline,  which  can  alone  save 
the  State,  when  it  has  no  foundation 
but  tlie  good-will,  the  respect,  and  the 
practical  valuation,  of  the  people.  But 
is  tlie  State  or  the  nation  ever  so 
truly  divine,  as  when  it  is  owned  as 
the  voice  of  God,  calling  all  the  peo- 
ple to  maintain  etjual  justice,  to  recog- 
nise universal  interests^  to  embody 
Christian  ethics  in  public  law  ?  And 
despite  our  local  mortifications  and 
occasional  misgivings,  what  nation  is 
now  so  strong  and  firm,  what  gov- 
ernment so  confident  and  so  promis- 
ing, as  our  own  ?  What  but  freedom, 
fidelity  to  rational  principles  and 
ideal  justice,  give  it  this  strength  ? 
What  is  it,  on  the  other  hand,  but  tra- 
ditions that  represent  the  ignorance 
and  accidents  and  injustice  of  former 
ages, — what  is  it  but  authority  usurped 
and  then  consecrated,  social  supersti- 
tions hardened  into  political  creeds,  — 
that  is  now  proving  the  weakness  and 
peril  of  EQroj>ean  nationalities,  and 
imperial  or  monarchical  governments? 
Who  does  not  tremble  for  every 
Stat^j  Switzerland  excepted,  in  the 
Old  World?      Knowledge,  science, 


literature,  progress,  truth,  lib 
come  sooner  or  later  the  eneiQifl 
all  governments,  and  all  social  i 
tions,  not  founded  in  abstract  ju 
and  equal  rights.     America's 
is  tho  knell  of  foreign    moaa 
Yet  how  fearful  the  transitioa! 
can  contemplate  the   downfall 
French  empire,  and  then  Itx>k 
architects  of  the  new  republic,  i 
ing  in  the  crude  material  of  a  ] 
ridden  or  unschooled  populace, ' 
out  dismay  ?      Yet   the    pr 
inevitable.       Democratic    ideaaj 
abroad ;  they  are  In    the  air. 
corrode  all  the  base  metal  they  td 
and  thrones  and  titles,  and  leg 
classes,  and   exceptional  prer 
are  predestined  to  a  rapid  disinti 
tion.     How  blessed   the  nation 
has   transferred  it3   political  ho 
from    traditions    to  principles  j  I 
men  or  families,  to  right  and  dd 
from  a  compromise  with  ancient 
quality  and  wrong,  to  an  a€ 
of  univei^al  justice  and  right! 
never  had  a  people  so  grave 
constant  and  so  serious  dutiee 
have.     And  there  is  nothing 
principles  or  government  that 
save  our  country,  in  spite  of  the  1 
of  political   virtue,    intelligenceij 
devotion,  in  our  private  citijiena 
has  buried    many  republics, 
the  people  were   unworthy  of 
Their  failure  waa  no  disproof  \ 
principle  involved,  but  only  an  \ 
dence  that  the  people  fell  wholly  I 
their  privileges  and  ideas, 
may  add  another  to  tliis  list  of  j 
ures,  but  can  do  nothing  to 
the  truth  and  glory  and  &nal  triq 
of  the  democratic  idea.     I  do  no 
lieve  we  shaU  fail;  on  the  coat 
have  an  increasing  faith  in  the  i 
and  virtue  and  ability  of  the 
of  this  country.     But  tho  sue 
American   political    institutia 


Amtimt  Fmtk  amd  ITordbqp. 


■tiaa  1 

mAteh  litem,  mad  m 

of  &M  •obiriij  poiyk  Ijoe^ 


Ltiilhl€0c< 


mad 

of  ike  dtmsh.      Hm^ 

dba(  wkidi  Am    nficis  of 

eiacot  Ami  imTMitSated 
in  ina  boset  ia  wlikb  tlieir 
I  baes  plaoed  for  greater 

'  wmmud  mx  and  ligbt,  and 

tbeir    ijiliere&t 

;  asi4  if  tliej  ka<d  beea  per^ 

t,  Ui« J  would  bare  laaSed  a 

jearm.      It   ia  ^vmamlj  m 

I  Ohratiaii  rdigioBy  boxed  np 

It  powi  mosty,   worm* 

finallj  loeea  ita  hSt   and 

A  eeruin  lioiid  a»d    eostati- 

Qj    religioiBa   poftkm  of   tba 

win  cberbb  aaj  cned  or 

rhicb  ta    time-boiMmd ;    and 

» fobdsl  ai>d  deetiiTe  mijidi  of 

will  rallj  about  wbat  ia 

and  reoeraUa^  bowever 

p  incredible^  or  inmlioiiaL 

;  It  wbat  ia  goiog  on  in  ibe  inde- 

aad  free  m'md  of  tbe  cx)m- 

r  tbat  dKMld  bare  oar  most 

( legamL     Wbat  u  tbe  faitb  of 

edocated  young  mea  aad 

I  wbo  aie  DOW  spnnging  up  in 

I?      Certainly,  it  ia  no^   in 

gified  or  tbe  moat  tbongbt- 

of    itf  in    ajmpatbj  with 

of  iMcramental  or  dogmatic 

itj.  It  ia  not  Thnitarian ;  it 


loHfdij.     A 

alaimed 

tjitnk  ^tat  iznKgiia,  sad  dao^  of 

m4  leDewAip  in  tbe  Cbria- 

m.    Bast  mi 

tliaa  fear  in 
ai*  a  leboke  t^  : 

tbeolegjy  —  tn  mrir  rnrliiiiMfiiiiiiii^tio 
1  waja.     Tbfj  aae  Jningiiiin  n 
violent 
efnatifttngbeliei;efi 

lid  beioie  tiMi  pm^  of 
Ouifit  can  emo^^  and  be  roBemd  m 
tta  printttavn  aiajp&tkf>  It  ia  the  «^ 
wn  J  in  wkkb  Uik  ii  < 
bj  dnnbi  aad  deninL  iWj 
^niiea  n  new  atnteBcnt.  It 
oooie  oat  of 
warks.  It  a 
to  nnjr  odier  fctad  of  jadgBHai  tban 
all  olber  liatb  daiat  and  ilona.  Ii 
most  place  itaetf  bj  tbe  mde  ef 
science,  ezpmaaee,  and  pbtbaopbj, 
and  def^  liwir  testa.  It  mast  invite 
tbe  moat  rigid  inrendgntion.  It  lanit 
elaia  ifa  Ibandalioaa  in  etecanl  tnttb. 
It  moat  prove  ifca  efieieaej  aoi  witb 
tbe  wenby  bot  tbe  stiangi  not  witb 
tbe  igaonu^  bat  Am  leuned;  not 
witb  the  boQudf  bot  tbe  free.  And 
then  it  will  recover  ita  loet  grotind, 
and  take  a  atronger  and  diviner  poai* 
tion  than  it  ever  had  before, 

Tbis  is  the  work  tbat  Liberal  Cbria- 
tianttj  has  io  hand ;  a  difficult,  alow, 
and  often  discouraging  work,  but 
one   that  is  intenaely  patriotic,  in- 


Tlie  Break  between  Modern  Thought^  etc. 


tensely  practical,  intensely  necessary* 
That  which  was  tiie  mere  fortress 
into  which  the  enlightened  and  free- 
tniDded  people  of  Massachusetts  fled 
for  refuge  from  ecclesiastical  tyranny, 
a  half-century  ago,^ — ^  Unitarian  ism,  — 
is  now  become  a  recognized  crusade 
for  religions  liberty  for  the  American 
people.  The  liberty  is  coming  fast 
enoaghi  and  surely  enough  j  but  will 
the  worship,  will  the  Christian  seri- 
ousness, will  the  fellowship  of  faith, 
will  the  piety  that  givps  aromatic 
beauty  as  well  as  health  to  the  soul, 
come  with  it?  ti  it  were  not  to  come, 
liberty  would  be  only  license  and 
seculari ty  and  worLliiness,  Every 
tirra,  well-ordered,  earnest  and  reli- 
gious congregation  of  the  liberal  faith  ; 
exhibiting  atableness,  order,  solem- 
nity; doing  religious  work  among  the 
poor,  and  cultivating  piety  in  its  own 
youth;  making  sacrijices  to  its  own 
ideas,  and  upholding  its  own  worships 
is  an  argument  of  the  most  solid  kind, 
an  example  of  contagious  power,  an 
encouragement  of  priceless  cheer,  for 
those  who  think  that  Christian  liberty 
necessarily  leads  to  license  and  decay 
of  worship;  or  that  Christ  is  less  re- 
vered and  loved  and  trusted  when  he 
is  accepted  in  the  derived  and  depen- 
dent character  he  claimed,  —  the  only 
tenable,  rational,  possible  character 
in  which  a  century  hence  be  can  be 
feceived  hy  any  unsnperstitious  per- 
sons. We  have  a  sacred  privilege, 
a  glorious  opportunity.  We  only 
need  to  show  ourselves  warm,  earnest, 
united,  attached  to  worshipj  fruitful 
in  piety,  devoted  t^>  good  works,  zeal- 
ous for  G^xl's  glory  and  man*s  re- 
demption, sincere, humble,  yet  rational 
and  free  followers  of  Christ,  to  win  an 
limmense  victory  for  the  gospel  in  this 
inquiring  and  doubting  agd.     I  have 


)iQi 

ti 


no  great  immediate  hopes*  biit 
beyond  expression     in    the 
development    of  another  g«ili 
I  bate  not  a  jot  of  heart  or  hQ| 
absolute  liberty  in  religion  »rij 
the  growth  of  piety,  as  much 
ttcal  freedom  has  favored  the 
of   order  and  peace  and  pro 
Oh  I  not  a  thou^^andth  part  th 
of  Christian  truth  and  righ 
has   yet   been   shown   in  tb« 
The  love  of  God,  the  love  oi 
have  only  begun  their  glorii 
8 ion.     Christ  yet   waits  for  hi 
throne.      Humanity  is  just  coml 
age,  and,  with  some  wild  fefti^ 
claiming  its  heritage.  But  God 
and  over  it;  and  Jesos  Christ 
inspirer  and  guide.     He  will  ntfl! 
his  headship.     He  will   be  mow 
lowed  w^hen  less    worship|wd;   Q 
truly  loved  when  less  iduhxedj  n 
triumphant   when  'more  clearly 
derstood  !     Darkness,  wrath,  thu 
enchantments,    sacraments,    pMl 
tions,  humiliations  of    reason, 
tional  transports,    aflfectations 
lief,  belief  for   its  owu  sake, - 
of  these  things  are  truly  fevi 
Christ^s  kingdom  or  the  glory 
gospel.     God  is  light,  and   in 
no  darkness  at  all.     Christ  is  l 
of  righteousness.     When  re 
science,  aflection,  rule  the  world 
lovje  and  justice,  and  mild  and 
views   of  life  and   humanity,  ( 
and  Christ,  displace  the  cruel 
and  superstitions  that  have  SI 
the  social  and  political  melioj 
the  age,  we  shall  begin  to 
love   is   the   fulfilling    of    the" 
and  liberty   of  thought  tht*  gwsl 
friend  of  worship,  the  finest  rpid 
Christ's  coming,  and  the  throne  I 
which  he  commands  the  whole 
heart  and  history. 


eaativl  tW 

\%j.    Tte%  if 
If  in   omr 

]es«  tTve  in 

jeais  of  cIm 

the  lid>ari]igHBaB 

Not  madi 

Uat  dumb  acquiaseeiie^  Ibr 

part,  in  hard  ntedisme  mod 

even  of  that-     No  me- 

isalitiited  ID  those  days^  with 

and  readiDg-rooms, — 

tiiiDg  that  was  frve  was  the 

Ko   working-men's   col- 

lectares  to   working-men  j 

ig*iiieti*A    candidates.      No 

in  those   dajs  of 

g  oottservadaiD  was  ibond 

a  » mxud  aUtaooe,*'  with 

lac  mm  p«rtj,  and  the  work- 

lor  the  other.     Fioqt  itatea- 

hmm  dAj>  tmlf  prajred  **  that 

maj  he  strong  io  lahvFr 

\  golf  which  existed  ihiwghenl 

Ifee  hegiattiBg  of  the  otiK 

theUnai^el 


nep  eiuihed  i 

week^  mud 

about  $  L3d  per  dmjf. 

selling  at  llGs.  the  qvafter,  llit  flHtt^ 

teru  loiif  At   l^r.  ICUL,  httHBr  Sk  the 
pound,  and  meat  9f/.     One  wmiU  ei^ 

there  wat  not  nuich  uiargiu  thste* 

But  in  184)8  the  times  were  fin 
longer  proHperous.  Tha  pf»rti>iit«mn 
war  with  Nupolooii  ha<I  irn'rt»riii<»ii  (In* 
difficulties  of  liviuK  in  Eh^IikhI  t<j  n 
fHghtful  extent  A  profound  i\m\\%'m^ 
sioo  ppprailod  thnsugfiout  tho  king- 
doOy  which  was^  liowerer^  ftifMt  ht^av- 

lljrMeiothinmittfiMifj' 
The  pMHm  orth«  h 


410 


The  Labor  Question  Sixty  Yewre  Ago. 


Qfactorers  were  of  course  tb©  chief 
sufferers.  A  large  part  of  the  people 
looked  forward  to  a  French  invasion 
aa  a  not  improbable  peril,  or  likely  to 
be  long  waited  for.  The  Parliament 
staggered  along  under  its  hea^y  load 
of  responsibility,  difficult  to  carry 
with  dignity,  and  impossible  to  drop 
at  all.  Incomes  of  £50  and  upwards 
were  taxed  ten  per  cent. 

Seven  hundred  thousand  men  were 
in  the  army ;  and  this  very  year  Cas- 
tlereagh  carried  a  measure  for  call- 
ing into  existence  a  local  militia  of 
two  hundred  thousand  more.  Every 
seventh  person^  in  England  was  a 
pauper.  Wages  were  lower  than  any* 
body  conld  remember.  George  Ste- 
phenson was  tweuty-seyen  years  old^ 
a  brakesman  in  a  coal*pit,  earning 
eighteen  to  twenty  shillings  a  week, 
and  thinking  himself  well-to-do. 
The  London  journals,  not  commonly 
very  prompt  to  admit  a  grievance 
among  the  poorer  classes,  did  not  at- 
tempt to  deny  the  existence  of  pitiful 
suffering.  "The  Morning  Courier" 
gives  as  the  cause  of  it,  not  so  much 
scarcity  of  work,  as  the  unparalleled 
redaction  of  wages.  After  laboring 
six  days,  fourteen  and  fifteen  hours  a 
day,  a  weaver  cannot  earn  more  than 
seven  or  eight  shillings. 

Some  time  during  the  spring  of 
1808,  the  weavers  of  Manchester  and 
the  surrounding  towns  sent  in  a 
representation  to  Parliament,  setting 
forth  the  hardships  under  which  they 
were  trying  to  live,  and  praying 
that  some  mea.sure  might  be  adopted 
for  tfi<^ir  relief.  Accordingly,  on 
the  llJth  of  May,  Mr.  Rose  brought 
before  the  House  of  Commons  a  bill 
to  limit  the  depression  in  the  wages 
of  journey  me  u  cotton- weavers,  by  fix- 
ing a  mkiiuium  rate,  below  which 
wages  should  never  sink.  Mr.  Eose 
aaid  the   bill  was   framed   with   the 


consent  of  the  masters ;  l^ut  it  \ 
orously  oppoaed  by  several  j 
of  the  House,  while    not  a 
Toice  was  raised  in  its 
was,  therefore,  after  a 
withdrawn. 

Intelligence   of  the    failm 
bill  reached  Manchester  on  I 
not  flashing  down  by  teleg 
toiling  painfully  down  in  ihaj 
ern  bags  of   the   roail-< 
form  of  a  letter  add 
liam    Starkie,    Esq., 
the   town.     The    weavers 
long  in  finding  out  the  fntr 
bilL     Parliament^  then 
in g  for  us.     Neverthek. 
must  be  done.     The 
doors,  never   having    been' 
them.      Our    families     an?    hi 
What  we  have  asked,  what 
hoped,  has  been  denied.    Can  i 
haps  do  any  thing  for  oorselrt 
least  we  can  try.     So  somo 
them  came   together  the 
which  was  a  Monday,  and  I 
bad  business  over ;  hut  natu 
out  evident  result     But  the  i 
some  five  or  six  hundred  of  i 
together,  peaceably  enough,  at  i 
called   St,  George^s  Fie  Ids, 
St  George^s  Lane,  and, — ^ 
circumstance, — ^hard   by  a 
house,  rejoicing  in  the  name  i 
of  "The  Gaping  Goose." 

Mr.     Slarkie,     the    borough^j 
head   of  the    magistrates,    beij 
formed  of  the  meeting,  and 
an  official  eye  to  the  poblicl 
paired  to  St.  George's  La 
eleven  in  the  forenoon,  and 
amicably  with   many  of 
who  were  qniet  and  ei 
ing  in  a    paHiaroentary 
pointed  four  delegates^  who  we 
then  sitting  in  •♦  The  Gaping  < 
preparing  their  expositiooi 
of   the    situation.     ^^  Pei 


The  Labor  Qm$iiam  Siziif  TtarM  Ago, 


411 


Mr.  Stazkk,  ^'vmitiB^ 
import  of  their  delegates;  wad 
laifested  do  other  diapooitmi 
meamiiyod:^  Bol  his 

tbd  saoie  opiaiofi ;  or^  hmYiag 
itary  habit  of  thooght^  disip- 
M  %  cxowdt  howttTor  peaoedble, 
Iviii^  whml  change  of  temper 
mae  orer  IhetQ.  So  the  Cot* 
it  hAiaagiiod  the  ctovdt  with 
pemspkirtiiess  probably,  and 
im  all  to  ^  homo  at  oace ;  and 
i  they  did  Dot  go^  he  read  the 
;  to  them,  which  produced  mo 
than  the  speech.  They 
and  were  peaoeahlow 
open  defiance  of  an* 
Having  been  UAd  to  goy  go 
tf  it  be  only  at  the  pneh 
roQet  So  the  Cohmel  ariced 
BTe  to  send  lor  the  mil- 
with  lehictence  he  did. 
at  one  o^clock;  and  it 
t  the  soldiers  and  the  w^cr- 
ait  each  other  tmtil  lour, 
|al  leogth,  without  rioloiee, 
i^—bitt  with  what  heart- 
land  hardness! 

>  dayt  Wedneedftyt  the  tide 

Indtgnadon  is  added  U> 

'Pieaoeahle   and   quiet   meai« 

it  eiil  iatentaons,  bat  with  aoes 

'heir  homea  and  a  fresh 

at  in  their  he«tt»  can- 

I  7  soldiezy,  and 

■  of  evil-di^koeed 

r^  of  the  peaoe 

_.  wi  * 

Mi  thence  resnlto 
pdJ  ttiere  as  no  violenoe.     The 
hare  been  sent  to  conte 
ma^elrstea ;  in  the  momiag 
ci  the    wearem    are    all 
is  general     By  noon 
f^eld  ii  filled  with  the 
I  workmen^  —  thieeor  ibitr 
m^j^  I  eight  osr  ten 


IJtnka 


LBlaride 


xfiwaCi 

tfanatbeyhad;   ^Ofmfm^\ 

if  th^i 

I  W^Mid  godows  SmI  Mti  tlMif  dit 

e^MM,  M I  had  ftxed  Ul^imst  «mlf» 
lomecithamat  ""The  Sew  Italby.^ 
Xhaysaid  if  I  ««mid  albir  theoi  to 
mtmm  HU  Aeir  Mfgmm  mUmtmi^ 
tiMTf  wo«ldlheB  fi  hmm  quieUy.  I 
eakl,  «My  lad%  may  I  di^eiid    m 


i 


412 


The  Labor  Question  Sixty  Year$  Ago. 


would  not  move  from  their  places  till 
my  return." 

80  the  good  magistrate,  doubtless 
much  perturbed  in  his  mind  as  to 
what  waste  be  done  witli  this  ntraiige 
quiet  mob,  who  madtj  no  throats  and 
no  noise,  but  who  were  not  to  be  per- 
sua^icd  to  move  on^  departed  for  "The 
New  Bailey/*  where  his  brother oflScers 
were  in  session.  Three  of  the  dele* 
gates  of  the  j^eople  were  there  ;  and 
what  they  had  to  say  was  heard^  it 
seems,  with  patience  enough  by  the 
perplexed  magistrates,  —  who  never- 
theless in  their  perplexity  were  not 
forsaken  by  tlieir  presence  of  mind  or 
their  dignity.  They  penned  tliis 
quiet  and  not  unpromising  answer :  — 

"  May  25,  IfeiOS ;  a  quarter  before  3, 
P.M.  It  is  the  opinion  of  the  magia- 
trate?,  that  under  the  existing  circum* 
stances  they  cannot  treat  with  men 
deputed  from  a  large  body  of  men, 
assembled  in  a  tumultuous  and  un- 
lawful  manner.  If  tLey  disperse,  and 
go  peaceably  and  quietly  to  their 
homes,  the  m  agist  rat  en  will  t^ke  their 
situation  into  consideration,  and  be 
ready  to  attend  to  any  representation 
which  may  be  made  in  a  proper  and 
peacoalile  manner."' 

The  borough-reeve  went  back  with 
the  three  delegates  to  the  field, — ^a 
mile  or  more  tlirough  the  streets,  ^ — 
and  thought  the  number  of  the  crowd 
h&d  rather  increased  during  his  ab- 
sence. '*  The  reply  of  the  magistrates 
was  read  to  them  by  their  own  dele- 
gate ;  and  then»"  says  Starkie,  "  for 
tlie  first  time  I  heard  murmuring  run 
through  the  assembly*  I  reminded 
tliem  of  the  promise  they  had  made 
me,  th%t  ihey  w^ould  disperse  if  I 
would  obtain  an  interview  of  their 
delegates  with  the  magistrates ;  but 
what  I  said  had  no  effect.  I  there- 
fore thought  it  advisable  to  leave 
them  a  short  while  alone.     Fielding 


and  I  [Fielding  was  a  brx)tW  I 
trate]  left  them,  and  nxj*! 
down  the  lane  for  the  space  of  1 
minutes  or  more,  on  hor 
our  return  we  were  met 
aiul  Marshall,  two  of  the 
who  had  been  at  the  Bailey ;  1 
told  us  they  could  not  be  of 
to  us.  I  again  nrgwl  the 
go  home,  and  told  them  the 
quetices  of  remaining  tliere. 
said  they  would  not  go :  tH<^y  I 
as  well  stay  there  and  be  killct 
home  and  see  their  families 
T lien  I  said,  '  My  lads,  I  can  mh 
no  longer;  1  must  go  and  iafi 
magistrates.* " 

Which  he  aecordhigly  did,  1 
turned  near  night,  as  he  thij 
the  magistrates,  and  mcire 
magistrates.  Enough  ot  enfj 
now  lot  us  see  what  a  shov  i 
can  do.  So,  with  tlie 
rode  to  the  field  the  Fourth 
Guards,  **  forty  tile  of  rnei*,^ 
Lieut.  Trafford,  *'of  which  I1 
head ;  and  I  had  groat  dif&ci 
going  amongst  the  crowd 
hurting  the  people/' 

This  seems  to  have  been  nl  I 
thing  after  four  oVJock  of  thiaJ 
noon,  late  in  May  ;  and  at  ab 
time  occurred  a  ciicumstj 
which  wo  chiefly  owe  this  glL 
what  the  English  weavers  Urn 
to  in  180S. 

Mr.  Joseph  HanaoD   roSit 
lane  which  bordered  the  Held] 
when  he  was  seen   bv  'V 
shout  went  up  as  if  t 
a  friend.     In  regard  tu  Mu 
Hanson,  we  have  this   cIl 
him   drawn   by   hia   couiud 
later^  when  he  was  put  on 
for   his    si  tare    in    this   daj'i 
**Mr.  Uaoson  is  the  aon  id  { 
excellent  mao^  who  adfrnno^d  1 
to  a  state  of  conaidimilite 


The  Labor  Queatiom  Six^  Tean  Ago. 


413 


in  tliis  eoantj.     He  had 
lbrt«ui#  to  recommend  bim- 
Anmnd  him,   |Htt  life  waa 
series    of  ^liantj  sad 
and  when  be    died  lie 
mor9  benerolent  beart  b^ 
ta    taoam    bit   Joss.     ICr. 
*  c»f  Tirtnaus  Citber,  Tirtti- 
had  been  ear!  j  txaiDed 
.    L»uaine^  b^  bis  fiilbery 
he  imbibed  a  gpizit  of 
;  concern  for  the  safiermgs 
To  th^m  he  nev^er  fiuled 
•esMnable    lelkf  om 

the  partial   eoonsel;   bat 
ion  •'         Serskle  do  not 


noon,  haTsng  dhied  eooilbrlaUj;  be 
gete  OB  bis  borse^  ^  a  white  j 
a  rmrj 
bo4f 

sfff'MW'pimifid  \i/f  bis  gitiw  JoIkb 
GeddoB,  slao  moenftdp  tides  faisdl j 
into  town  m  ^as  Sc  6eofi^*sFici^ 
When  be  appears  in  lbs  faoB^  a  rfis«t 
go«i  op;  he  paQs  eff  hii  iai  and 
bows  to  the  people.  Be  lads  &e 
carabj  drawn  up  in  liai^  and  at 
ofVaadae^  iarihe 


lotdy    Jxansovs 
giTtto  his  Ettie 


new; 


'Heh>ohed 


Fonr  jeaf«  betee^  when  sU 
a  on   file   with   warlike 
Han&an    had    raised   a 
r  ooai|ian  J  of  rifletBen^  whidi 
if  afterwards  attadbed  to 
hatter  Voltmteer  Bille  Bcgi- 
he  was  made  lieoten- 
witb  the  comiaand  of  the 


and  then  ashed  ne  net  is  h 
people  bjasf  neam^a^  he 
leave  In  hiriapi  the 


which 


tfana  a  ettieeo  of  eredit 

]«  the  fon  of  a  lieh  and 
X  weaTtr,  not  asbaiaed  of 

thoo^  liTtng  now  a  £& 
at  his  plaee  at  Straagewajs 

nr  two  oat  of  MaaehesCa^ 

log  the  foftane  inhcntod 

» ttther  in  a  tibeial  aad  pah* 

wajT*  He  baa  beea  anKh 
bf  Oris  tfoobla  amoag  the 
and    diiappoiBtod    al  the 

of  the  ipeeeh  of  his 
SdTe^ter  the  dar  befiite, 
reading  of  the  Biol  Ac^ 
to  bim  an  aanecaeMrJy 
He  knows  the  wap- 
than  CoL  SOTester  does, — 
he  can  peihaps  speak  la 
tODsaad  with 
the  Wednesday 


414 


The  Lahor  Question  Sixty  Tears  Ago, 


up 


somewhat 


of     listenera,    sums 
thua :  — 

'*  Frienda,  my  father  was  a  weaver, 
I  was  taught  the  weaver's  trade  my- 
self, and  my  property  came  through 
the  hu8tnes8»  I  am  a  weaver's  frieud. 
Your  cause  is  just.  Be  steady,  and 
stick  to  your  purpose,  and  I  have  no 
douht  you  will  obtain  your  end.  I 
will  support  you  as  far  as  £3,000  wil! 
go;  and,  if  that  is  not  enough,  I  will 
go  farther.  But  I  desire  you  will  be 
peaceable,  and  not  disturb  the  tran- 
quillity of  the  country,  I  am  sorry 
you  have  lost  your  bill ;  but  I  have 
no  doubt,  when  the  LegialatuFe  shall 
be  rightly  informed  on  the  subject, 
you  may  yet  obtain  it.  I  hope  now 
you  will  all  go  home.  Lieut.  Traf- 
ford  had  ordered  me  off  the  ground,  — 
thinks  I  came  here  to  breed  a  riot 
Not  so :  I  came  to  prevent  one. 
Gentlemen,  if  you  wish  well  to  your 
king  and  country,  you  will  all  go  to 
your  homes." 

Once  when  he  had  spoken,  there  was 
a  general  cheer,  **  Hanson  forever  I  " 
It  migl^t  have  been  that,  or  it  might 
have  been  J  as  John  the  groom  said, 
the  glittering  of  the  swords  of  the 
dragoons,  which  made  his  remarkable 
wliite  horse  rear  in  a  disastrous  man- 
ner, insomuch  that  the  orator  slipped 
backwarii  off  his  horse.  Shortly 
afterwards  we  see  him  in  the  lane, 
on  his  groom's  horse,  less  remarkable 
probably,  but  safer,  riding  past  **  The 
Gaping  Goose  *'  on  his  way  home  to 
Strangeways,  great  numbers  of  the 
crowd  following;  and  all  accounts 
agree  that  by  seven  o^clock  most  of 
the  malcontents  had  left  the  field. 
The  cavalry  had  apparently  made  a 
mild  demonstration,  which  had  proved 
at  once  harmless  and  effective.  In 
the  lane,  indeed,  one  riotous  individ- 
ual had  hurled  a  brick-bat  at  a  soldier, 
who  had  thereupon  shot  the  offc^nder. 


That    seems    to    be   about 
damage  done  on  either  side* ' 

A  week  l^r,  on  the  2^ 
we  find  this  manifesto  iasxil 
form !  — 
"  To  the  pulflie  in  gen^ral^  i 

cotton  manufacturert  aiM 

'^  A  number  of  hand-bills 
printed  and  drcnlated,  p 
that  an  agreement  has  tal 
between  the  masters  and 
This  is  to  inform  the  pablic 
persons  who  signed  such  i 
men t,  if  any,  were  not  autll 
any  respect  by  the  weavers 
and  we  declare  the  same  ti 
and  void;  and  that  noti 
than  6*.  8d  in  the  pomid  (h 
third  in  advance  upon  ool 
wages)  will  be  suflicient  M 
port;  and  all  manufactiirers' 
give  the  above  advance,  theil 
will  immediately  go  to  work 
goods  taken  in  from  dali 
should  be  paid  for  by  I 
according  to  length,  breai 
strength,  and  a  list  of  the  p 
be  prepared  for  the  use  of  i 
as  soon  as  possible. 

**  Signed  on  behalf  of  the' 

The  result  appears  to  hav 
compromise;  for  on  the  9tl 
says,  ^*The  utmost  tranqtt 
prevailed  since  the  2(5tl 
twelve  persona  now  remain  ! 
dy.  The  great  body  of  th^ 
are  perfectly  satisfied  with  ( 
made  them,  and  hundreds* 
consequence  resumed  work.** 

While  these  things  weni 
at  one  end  of  the  social  lad 
was  happening  at  the  ot| 
Why,  **  The  Morning  Coariei 
same  sheet  which  prints  I 
three  brief  paragraphs  a  noii 
Manchester  troubles,  sajs 
farther  on,  —  < 


&e< 


cniBl 


King  George,  ^oid 
I  fifty  jM^  J 

cm.     He  is 


IjT 


hm 


»;  and  lieis^Miliicpdial 
:  il  iaia  tlie  kaadi  «r  tiM 

tbraiM^     No  matt- 
io^th^  bst  tine  ail 
;  m  hiithdmjt  ub4  re- 
oofigratolaliofts  d 
toihu  Majeit/*0  subj^u.^ 
Vo;  balof  Ihedaaa 
Ibeiikfl^vea  in  jelJewaad 
«rftli  aopetb  bloode  laee 
baada  of  diamond^ 
np  with  rich  bullion 

'  M»  wy  tocaciifbl  A  dreM  be> 
I  jvOov  and  ■liver  1J«ne  body 

I  o^  diaflionds,  mrcf  dii»> 

Bp«d  0|»  wttb  rioh 
^    slfreff  dofvt,  vhteh 


W&kTm^  IftOC  i 

in  tbeaaid  mr 

lebbof^bvt  ania 
▼kn^  and  'mtendrng,  nnj% 
oppieawFelj,  to  aogioe&l  am 
tbe  wages  of  tbemselres,  t 
workmen  and  journejm^n^  h 
art,  mysterv,  and  manual  oc 
were  incited,  encouimged,  m 
persuaded  (he  being  aba  ai 
poaed  person,  and  a  disturb 
peace  of  our  lord  the  king 


416 


The  Labor  Question  Sixty  Tears  Ago, 


severe  and  persist  in  refusing  to  work 
in  tire  said  art,  rajaterj,  and  manual 
occiipation,  at  or  for  the  customary 
wages,  hire,  and  reward  then  usually 
paid  for  such  labor;  and  that  the  de- 
fendant did  tlien  and  there  maliciously 
and  uDlawfulIy,  for  the  unlawful  pui- 
poae  aforesaid,  speak,  utter,  and  pub- 
lish to  and  in  the  hearing  of  divers 
of  the  said  evil-disposed  persons,  the 
malicious  and  intlammatory  words  fol- 
lowing, to  wit :  *  Your  cause  id  good, 
and  I  will  support  you  as  far  as 
£3000  will  go;  and,  if  that  will  not 
lio,  1  will  go  farther;  stick  to  your 
cause,  and  you  will  certainly  suc^^eed, 
Neither  Nadin  nor  any  of  his  faction 
shall  put  you  off  the  field  to-day. 
Gentlemen,  sfcirk  together,  and  you 
shall  gain  your  end.  Gentlemen,  you 
cannot  lire  by  your  labor;  there  is 
room  for  six  shillings  in  the  cutj  if 
you  cannot  obtain  that,  I  w^ill  advance 
six  shillings  in  the  pound.  My  father 
was  a  weaver;  I  myself  was  taught 
the  weaver^s  trude ;  I  am  a  weaver's 
real  friend  ;  1  would  advnse  you  to  be 
steady  and  stick  to  your  purpose,  and 
no  doubt  you  will  gain  your  ends;  but 
I  advise  you  not  to  disturb  the  tran- 
quillity of  the  country.  Although  you 
have  never  seen  my  face  before,  you 
have  my  hearty  good  wishes,  and  I 
shall  always  be  ready  to  assist  you  to 
the  utmost  of  mf  power.*  To  the 
great  encouragement  of  the  said  evil- 
disposed  persons ;  to  the  great  injury 
and  oppression  of  the  masters  employ- 
ing workmen  in  the  said  art,  mystery, 
and  manual  occupation ;  to  the  great 
danger  of  the  breach  and  disturbance 
df  the  peace  of  our  said  lord  the  king ; 
m  contempt  of  our  said  lord  the 
king  and  his  laws;  to  the  evil  ex- 
ample of  all  others,  and  against  the 
peace  of  our  lord  the  king,  his  crown 
and  dignity.*' 
The  case  was  tried  at  length,  and 


well  tried  apparently.  The 
for  the  said  lord  and  kinr  *xr«fl 
official  men,  — I  the  bore  1 1 
or  tliree  constables,  Lieut,  inuiij 
the  dragoons,  and  half  a  dojwn « 
corporals  and  sergeant*.  The  witi 
for  the  defendant  were  aU  soti 
people,  —  including  a  constabk 
collectors  of  excise,  a  schoolq 
one  gentlemen  who  "lived 
property,*^  and  several  book-k«( 
trades-people,  and  workinguje 
sides  John  Geddon,  groom, 
timony  was  not  widely  at 
but  the  uses  made  of  it  were  ; 
result  of  the  trial  was,  that  Mr. I 
son  was  declared  guilty^  anil| 
tenced  to  pay  a  fine  of  one  b\] 
pounds,  and  six  mouths*  \m^ 
ment;  whereupon  the  unhappf 
having  no  premoaitton  th.it  hi 
name  would  be  taken  up  sixtyl 
later  by  this  Feople*a  Magaxii 
embalmed  in  its  pages 
martyr,  was  forced  to  fmTl 
the  consciousness  of  his  inno 
which  he  declared  would 
him  under  this  judgmenty 
other  which  his  honor  might] 
been  pleased  to  pronounce. 

If  Mn  Hanson^s  punishment  J 
hard,  we  must  remember  that  in] 
days  the  criminal  laws  of 
were  brutally  severe,  being  in 
by  fear  and  the  cruelty  which  i 
of  fear^  It  was  in  this  ver 
1808,  that  Romilly  obtained 
mission  of  the  death*pena]ty  fbd 
ing  from  the  person  to  the  ext 
five  shillings.  But  two  ye 
he  failed  to  carry  a  repeal  of 
making  it  a  capital  o^enoD 
from  a  dwelling  to  the  extent  i 
shillings.  In  the  House  of  1 
during  the  same  oessioo, 
land  brought  in  a  bill  to  abold 
death-penalty  for  stealing  to 
of  five  shillings  in  a  diop. 


The  Labor  Question  Sixty  Years  Ago, 


417 


t«d  W  ^  vote  of  thirty-one 

fy^sajs  Miss 

ven  prelate^ 

ble  in  the  history  of 

■ "--.     The  repeal  of 

,  even  dow,  seems 

liU«£«  was  pronounced  by 

of  the  gospel  of  Christ, 

tp«  to  be  safeJ  " 

itry  whose  lairs  were  still 

by  such  a  temper,  it  is  Dot 

:  that  the  laborers  looked  in 

^mrliametit  for  relief  in  their 

But   the  truth   is,  Parlia- 

Dot  have  helped  theni  had 

willing*     The  laws  of 

economy  are,  for  the  most 

t  Tmgue  to  be  written  down  in 

or  even  to  be  stated   very 

-         -   '—  Te.      All   the 

it  have  tried 

ill  this    knotty  question 

without     adding    to    the 

wisdom   of   either  masters 

^atogle  guiding  idea*     Here, 

ta  what  Bfr.  Mill  makes 

I  depend,  then,  on  the  pro- 
[Iietwe<eii  the  number  of  the 
population  and  the  capitid 
to  the  purchase  of  labor. 
of  the  class  can  be 
io  oo  other  way  than  by 
[ikmk  proportion  to  their  arl* 
and  every  scheme  for  their 
I  not  proceefl  on  this 
ii  for  all  permanent  pur- 
diL"  (Pol  Econ,  B.  II. 

my 

finaL    But  as  the  con- 

of  this  theory  oblige  Mr. 

^ifiaistwith   Sismondi  on  the 

that    every    married    pair 

Bf  two    children   into    the 

good  their  own  places 

no  iQore,  it  would  seem 

t  natter  to  embody  his  theory 

tm  of  legislation, 


I  believe  thai  antfl  we  can 
another  motive  tkui  eelf^interest, 
more  or  less  enligbteDed^  as  the  spring 
of  human  actiooSy  be  wiU  be  the  true 
benefactor  to  the  workman,  who  shall 
prove  that  eominunity  of  interest 
between  master  and  man,  which  hai 
never  yet  been  established  i  and  wlio 
shall  be  able  to  show  that  high  wages 
are  as  beneficial  to  one  party  aa  to 
the  other. 

As  for  the  education  of  the  work- 
in  g-d  ass,  which  is  naturally  put  first 
in  any  scheme  for  the  permanent  im- 
provement of  their  condition,  that 
is  a  phrase  which  may  mean  one  or 
other  of  two  very  different  things. 
It  may  mean  the  teaching  of  work- 
in  g-men^s  children  in  schools  which 
are  as  exactly  as  possible  £ic-similes 
of  the  schools  for  the  rich.  This  is 
the  meaning  thus  far  commonly  at- 
tached to  it ;  and  the  results  of  our 
attempts  in  this  direction  are  chiefly 
seen  in  the  increased  circulation  of 
bad  newspapers  and  loose  novels  in 
our  public  libraries,  in  an  increasing 
discontent  with  their  condition,  in  the 
minds  of  working  men  and  women, 
and  an  increasing  jealousy  and  ani- 
mosity towards  people  who  are  better 
oE 

On  the  other  hand,  the  education 
of  the  work ing<cl asses  may  mean 
the  training  of  their  children  for  the 
employments  in  which  they  are  to 
spend  their  lives.  That  is  to  say, 
their  teaching  may  be  technical,  like 
the  teaching  in  professional  schools, 
with  methods  not  copied  from  those 
of  the  schools  of  general  literature, 
but  fitted  as  exactly  as  may  be  to  the 
needs  of  the  lines  of  life  which  they 
are  to  follow. 

At  presentj  it  seems  to  me  a  ques- 
tion whether  what  is  familiarly 
known  as  the  superior  education 
of  the  work ing<l asses  has   not  pro- 


418 


Tfie   Vicar  ^8  Daughter, 


daced  more  harm  than  good.  It  has 
killed  the  old  83'atem  of  apprentice- 
ship, which,  with  many  hardships  and 
abuses,  had  the  one  virtue,  very  much 
to  the  point,  of  teaching  the  young 
workman  how  to  work;  but  it  has 
given  us  nothing  in  its  place ;  and 
while  the  physical   condition   of  tlie 


farm-laborer  or  the  mill-op 
doubtless  better  than  it 
century  ago,  the  quality  0I 
is  probably  inferior,  and 
tions  witli  his  employer  ami  thi 
munity  are  certainly  more  il 
rassed  and  exasperated  witb  i 
year. 


THE     VICAR'S     DAUQHTEB; 

AN  AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL  STORY. 
BY   GBOBGE  MACDOKALD. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

jl  rekabkable  fact. 

A  SILENCE  followed.  I  need  hardly 
aay  we  had  listened  intently.  During 
the  story  my  father  had  scarcely  in- 
terrupted the  narrator.  I  had  not 
spoken  a  word.  She  had  throughout 
maintained  a  certain  matter-of-fact, 
almost  cold  style,  no  doubt  because 
she  was  herself  the  subject  of  her 
story;  but  we  could  read  between  the 
lines,  imagine  much  she  did  not  say, 
and  supply  color  when  she  gave  only 
outline  \  and  it  moved  us  both  deeply. 
My  father  sat  perfectly  composed,  be- 
traying his  emotion  in  silence  alone. 
For  myself,  I  had  a  great  lump  in  my 
throatj  but  in  part  from  tlie  shame 
which  mingled  with  my  admiration. 
The  silence  had  not  lasted  more  than 
a  few  seconds,  when  I  yielded  to  a 
struggling  impulse,  rose,  and  kneeling 
before  her,  put  my  hands  on  her  knees, 
said,  **  Forgive  me,  *'  and  could  say  no 
more.  She  put  her  hand  on  my  shoul- 
der, whispered,  "  My  dear  Mrs.  Fcrci- 
vale  1 "  bent  down  her  face  and  kissed 
me  on  the  forehead. 

**How  could  you  help  being  shy  of 
me?*'  she  said,  ** Perhaps  I  ought 
to  have  come  to  you  and  explained  it 
all ;  hut  I  shrink  from  self-justification, 


—  at  least  before  a  fit  0|ipai| 
makes  it  comparatively  easy.*' 

**  That  is  the  way  to  gire  it  ( 
force,*'  remarked  my  father. 

"  I  suppose  it  may  be/*  she  t^ 
ed.  "  But  I  hate  talking  aboal 
self:  it  is  an  unpleasant  ^ 

**  Most  people  do  not  fci 
said  my  father.  "  I  could  nut  faoi 
say  that  I  do  not  enjoy  talking  < 
own  experiences  of  life, 

"  But  there  are  diflerenv 
she  rejoined.     "My  hist- 
me  sucli  a  matter  of  courst;,  1^ 
something  I  could  not  help,  or 
avoided  if  I  would,  that  tlie  telli 
it  is  unpleasant^  because  ir 
importance  which  does  nu. 


it' 


agll 


'*St  Paul  says  something 
same  sort, —  that  a  necessity  of  pi 
ing  the  gospel  was  laid 
Rmiarked  my  father;  but 
make  no  impression  on  Miss  Clftl 
she  went  on  as  if  she  had 
him, 

**  You  see,  Mr.  Walton,  it 
the  least  as  if,  living  in  cc^ml 
had  taken  notice  of  the  misery  i 
poor  for  the  want  of  such  sym 
and  help  as  I  could  gire  thcon 
had  therefore  gone  to  lire  aa 
them  that  I  might  so  help  thf 


9  V/J«l 

.1 


Tkt  ru 


I  miglit  lie  ift 
HOC  moi^j  mj  mB 
iu  th^  csotnvTV  I 
to  It  imnnek^kmt 

'trim]  tome  to 


h^  i}d  wo 
Ml  inuij   ]2gkt% 

OQ0CQSltiC^ 

OM^    ntil  the  i 

Glmm  ind  gma 

like  thai  of  the  SeoeTGoi 
ether  I  kiMw.     Fer 
g  her  ftieadi  £nm  i 


eBi|r  the  pitfnege  w  ' 
lioyherlehocM 
ly«7  A<r  tftvit»tioiiy 


boogble  brge 


420 


The   Vicar's  Daughter, 


be  a  home  for  young  women  out  of 
emplo^'ment,  und  in  it  slie  proposed 
the  entertainment  slioald  he  given  : 
there  were  a  good  many  nice  young 
wonaen  inmates  at  the  time,  who,  she 
aaid,  would  be  all  willing  to  help  us  to 
wait  nix»n  our  guests.  The  idea  was 
carried  out,  and  the  thing  succeeded 
admirably.  We  had  music  and  games, 
the  latter  such  as  the  children  were 
mostly  acquainted  with,  only  produ- 
cing more  merriment  iind  conducted 
with  more  propriety  than  were  usual 
in  the  court  or  the  streets.  I  may 
just  remark,  in  passing,  tliat,had  these 
been  children  of  the  poorest  sort,  we 
should  have  had  to  teach  them  j  for 
one  of  the  saddest  things  is  that  such, , 
in  London  at  least,  do  not  know  how 
to  play.  Wo  bad  tea  and  coffee  and 
biscuits  in  the  lower  rooms,  for  any 
who  pleased  ;  and  they  were  to  have 
R  solid  supper  afterwards.  With  none 
'of  the  an*angements,  however,  had  I 
any  thing  to  do ;  for  my  business  was 
to  be  with  them,  and  help  them  to 
enjoy  tliemseives.  All  went  on  capi- 
tally ;  the  parents  entering  into  the 
merriment  of  their  children,  and  help- 
ing to  keep  it  up. 

**  In  one  of  the  games,  I  was  seated 
on  the  floor  with  a  handkerchief  tied 
over  my  eyes,  waiting,  I  bed  ieve,  for 
some  gentle  trick  to  he  played  upon 
me,  that  I  might  guess  at  the  name 
of  the  persou  who  played  it.  There 
was  a  delay — ^of  only  a  few  seconds 
—  long  enough,  however,  for  a  sudden 
returu  of  that  dreary  November  after- 
noon in  which  I  sat  on  the  floor  too 
miserable  even  to  think  that  I  was 
cold  and  hungry.  Strange  to  say,  it 
was  not  the  picture  of  it  that  came 
back  to  me  first,  but  the  sound  of  my 
own  voice  calling  aloud  in  the  ringing 
echo  of  the  desolate  rooms  that  I  wi^ 
of  no  use  to  anybody,  and  that  God 
had  forgotten  me  utterly.     With  the 


recollection,   a    doubtful 
arose  which  moved  me  to  a  i 
trollable    degree,     I  jumj 
feet,  and  tore  the  bandage 
eyes. 

"  Several  times  daring  tho  < 
I  had   had  the   odd  yet  wwll-l 
feeling  of  the  same  thing  hanni 
pened   before ;   but  I  was  toe  ] 
entertaining  my  friends  to  try! 
count   for  it:  perhaps  what  W 
may  suggest  the  theory,  that  ini 
few  of  such  cases  the  indtstiQ 
membrance  of  the  previous  i 
of  some  portion  of  the  circa 
may  cast  the  hue  of  memory  ( 
whole.     As  —  my  eyes  blinded' 
the   light   and   straining   to 
themselves  —  I     stared 
room,  the  presentiment  grew 
conviction  that  it  was  the  reiyl 
in  which  I  had  so  sat  in  de 
and  despair.     Unable  to  rest 
self,  I  hurried  into  the  back 
there  was  the  cabinet  beyond  I 
few  moments  more  T  was  ab 
satisfied    that    this   was  inde 
house    in  which    I    had   Erst 
refuge.     For  a  time  I  coiiM 
further  share  in  what  w 
but  sat  down  in  a  corner  and  < 
joy.     Some  one  went  for 
nard,   who  was    superintendin 
arrangements  for  supper  in  thf  J 
room  behind.     She  came  in 
told  her  there  was  nothing  thei 
hut  a  little  too  much  happinet 
if  she  would  come  into  the 
would  tell  her  all  about  it. 
so,  and  a  few  words  made  her  a  I 
sharer  in  my  pleasure.     She 
that   I  should  tell  the  com  pa 
about  it  J  *  for '  she  said,  *  you  ( 
know  how   much  it  may  hdpl 
poor  creature   to  trust  in 
promised  I  would,  if  I  found  ] 
command    myself    sufficiently, 
left  me  alone  for  a  little 


Jk   rSessr^f  Hmtc 


ASl 


rthat  I 


aa»e  a  -«2tx  =r  ::^f    — 


■ctagvn. 

■At  sapper  I  f:«^«£  ^ijaitLf  ri^r* 
■posed,  and.  ar  L&ij  B«zmjiZ*£~»  r»- 
Ht,  stood  up.  az-i  ri^re  -iz-^iL  lZ  & 
9e  sketch  of  grarr.  r'a-  l^^:c7.  :c 
BA  sketch  vbar  2u*i  L&cot-i-i  :i^ 


ig  was  moUe  ire  k-tt^  >:•:=.;. 

isf  (tf  the  sixDpIer  h-fiAni^  &lo^:  =Le 

ioived  ity  wiihoat  q«'£sd>:'Q.    if   & 

line  mzrangement   f^>r  r=T  c^^=lr:A 

pi  encourage  menu  —  &i  k-.^b^L  :! ::«  I 

^■preced  their  looks  to  e^:b   :iirr. 

jd  the  remarks   thai   r&«rhri   zzj 

W\  bat  presentijr  a  man  st-Xid  -^ju  — 

A  who  thought  more  than  the  ;^t 

■km,  perhaps  hecaose  he  w&»  Mii  L 

Is  man  at  once   eonceired.  bonta't. 

I  sceptical;    and    silence   bavii.^ 

made   for  him.  —  *  Ladies  &=.i 

men/  he  began,   as  if  he  bai 

addressing    a  public   meeting. 

all  heanl  what  grannie  has 

L    It's  Tety  kind  of  her  ti^  gire 

■0  much   of  her  history.     Irs  a 

9*  remarkable   one,  /  think,   ani 

deserves  to  have  iL     As  to  what 

Bt  her  this  very  niglit  as  is.  —  anil 

Mt  say  for  her,  I've  knoweJ  her 

r  for  six  years,  and  I  never  knowed 

r  vpset  afore,  —  and    as   to  what 

tot  her,  all  I  can  say  is.  it  may  or 

not  ha'  been  what  phylosophers 

,  a  coincydence ;  but  at  the  same 

I  if  it  wasn't  a  coincydence,  and  if 

Almighty  had  a  hand  in  it,   it 

I  DO  more  than  you  might  expect. 

ioald  look  at  it  in  this  light,  you 

that  maybe   she  was  wrong  to 

J  herself  so  down  on  her  luck  as 

ttat,  bat  she  was  a  good  soul,  not- 

in,'   and   he  would   let  her 

he  hadn't  forgotten  her.  And  so 

iKt  her  down  in  that  room  there,  — 

wkrcyea  like  them  hero  o'  mine, 

pisfcr  was  no  manner  o'  use  to  me, 


ziLijf  r    ¥  :j^  •;&£  ?!*-■:.  kii  »*«  si^ 

1:5=  rt-::  ;-  ¥■  Ii  zlj  .it'  :  tc  ;:  «-«v 
21 :    ▼  :  •!■  £■= r  k*   si-*^   re:* :    i .  «t ,  G->i 

xrn.£  t:  C-v*  s*:d*  :«f  t.!:*  z:  fir'^r.crr 
Lr^k  iiLi  iIl:.  ili  :':*rr-f:c?  nai 
Ziiz*^  Tr-*!  -sr  r.ii  =>:rf  ^i:*::  and 
sLi  r'.::  r :  l^  i  a  :  ■•  r;T~ZLA : .  rx :.  .■»  k^e w 
i.:t  ::  :•*  ir  c":  xr  T.:  :r.tr:  :!.*:  bad 

c'l-trccr  tz-i  k  .-:l.i\':  c-r  :«■:*  aod  said 
a  frv  sriri*  ::  :.':■*=:  T:.e-  frannie 
i^i  hrr  r:  -irrL  "x*-^:  :.:r:e  :.-^:her. 
al:  lijj  J.  ':•-:  gra.r7:e  lie  hippies:  of 

-  Srrk^r?  and  bftantffa* ! "  said  mv 
fktbrr.  -!:;::-■*  be  aiie*i  after  a 
pa-ij.?,  -vr-u  z:.:s:  bare  met  with 
nuLj  sTranre  ar.d  l-eauTifjl  things  in 
suob  a  life  i*  yours  ;  for  it  seems  to 
me  :bai  su.h  a  life  i?  open  to  the  en- 
trap-.-e  of  ill  simple  woaders.  Con- 
vrs:: .  :;il::y  ani  rvvjiiue  and  arbitrary 
law  b:ir.:>::  :heir  very  appp>ach." 

-  I  Lnrl'fve."  sciid  Mia*  Glare, 
":bar  every  life  has  its  own  private 
exwrienoe  of  ilie  s: range  and  beauti- 
ful. But  I  have  some  limes  thought 
tliut  perhaps  G<>i  took  pains  to  bar  out 
Euoh  things  of  tiie  sort  as  we  should 
be  no  better  for.  The  reason  why 
Lazaruit  was  nut  allowed  to  visit  the 
brothers  of  Dives  was,  that  the  re- 
pentance he  would  have  ur^^jed  would 
not  have  followed,  and  they  would 
have  been  only  the  worse  in  conse- 
quence.'' 

**  Admirably  said,"  remarked  my 
father. 

Before  we  to.>k  our  leave,  I  luul  en- 
g:ige<l  Miss  Clare  to  dine  with  us 
while  my  father  was  in  town. 


422 


The  Vicar's  Daughter. 


CHAPTER     XXL 
JJlJ>X  bebnabd. 

When  she  came  we  had  no  otlior 
gueatj  and  so  had  plenty  of  talk  with 
her.  Before  dinner  I  showed  her  my 
hasbaod's  pictures  ;  and  she  was  espe- 
cially pleased  with  that  which  himg 
in  the  little  room  off  the  study,  which 
I  called  my  boudoir,  —  a  very  ugly 
word,  by  the  way,  which  I  am  trying 
to  give  up,  — with  a  curtain  before  it 
My  father  has  described  it  in  **  The 
Seaboard  Parish  :  *'  a  pauper  lies  dead, 
and  they  are  bnngmg  in  his  coftin. 
She  said  it  was  no  wonder  it  had  not 
been  sold,  notwithstanding  its  excel- 
lence and  force;  and  asked  if  I  would 
allow  her  to  bring  Lady  Bernard  to 
gee  it.  After  dinner  Percivale  had  a 
long  talk  with  her,  and  succeeded  in 
persuading  her  to  sit  to  him ;  not,  how- 
ever, before  I  had  joined  ray  entreaties 
with  his,  and  my  father  had  insisted 
that  her  face  was  not  her  own,  but 
belonged  to  all  her  kind. 

The  very  next  morning  she  came 
with  Lady  Bernard*  The  latter  said 
she  knew  my  husband  well  by  repu- 
tatioUf  and  had,  before  our  marriage, 
asked  him  to  her  housCj  but  had  not 
been  fortiinate  enough  to  possess  sufli- 
cient  attraction.  Percivale  was  much 
taken  with  her,  notwithstanding  a 
certain  coldness,  almost  sternness  of 
manner,  which  was  considerably  re- 
pellent, —  but  only  for  the  first  few 
moments,  for,  when  her  eyes  lighted 
up,  the  whole  thing  vanished.  She 
was  much  pleased  with  some  of  his 
pictures,  criticising  freely,  and  with 
evident  understanding.  The  imme- 
diate result  was,  that  she  bought  both 
the  pauper  picture  and  that  of  the 
dying  knight. 

**  But  I  am  sorry  to  deprive  your 
lovely  room  of  such  treasures,  Mrs, 
Percivale/'  sheaaidj  with  a  kind  smile. 


"Of  couise  I  shall  miss  \ 
returned  ;  ''  but  the  thoagbt 
have  them  will  console  me. 
it  is  good  to  have  a  change ;  i 
are  only  too  many  lying  in  ti 
from  wliicli  he  will  let  me  < 
supply  their  place." 

"Will  you  let   me  come 
which  you  liave  chosen  ?  "  d 

"With  the  greatest  pl«J 
answered, 

"  And  will  you  come  and 
Bo  you  think  you  could  per»tti 
husband  to  bring  you   to 
me?" 

I  told  her  I  could  promii 
with  more  than  pleasure, 
little  doubt  of  being  able  t 
other,  now  that  my  hosband 
her. 

A  reference  to  ray  husbaad 
to  fashionable  society  foUowi 
had  occasion  to  mention  hi 
about  being  asked  wit  hoot 
the   latter.  Lady  Bemitfd 
the   warmest   approval; 
former,   said  that   it  would 
force   in  respect  of  her  pai 
they  were  not  at  all  fashiona 

This  was  the  commenced 
&iendship  for  which  we  hi 
cause  to  thank  God.  Noj 
forget  that  it  came  tlim 
Clare, 

I  confess  I  felt  glorious 
cousin  Judy;  but  I  would 
time*  Now  that  I  am  wia4 
hope  a  little  better,  I  see  t| 
rather  spiteful ;  but  I  thoug 
was  only  jealous  for  my  new 
tiful  friend.  Perhaps,  havin 
ed  her  roys4*lf,  I  was  the  m( 
to  take  vengeance  on  her  vnx 
the  hands  of  another;  w 
just  the  opposite  feeling  t 
ought  to  have  had. 

In  the  mean  time,  our  in  tin 
Miss  Cbro  grew.     She  inteq 


a^Fiear^M 


of  vliidi  wm 
wiik  wodk  u 
lor  gifin^ 
file  ttseii;  witliMftv&M^ 
\^<uke  irooli  begim  to m^we 
aiiddit£ic&,  Onsof 
ooimoiioos  wai^  llui  jmi 
live  tbeiB  aojr  lliifig  t^^ 
fgr  tJi«aiaelTc«|  cadi 
ir  ^tiling  or  sbdter.  In 
asRxick»dil  in- 
be  tiieoi  to  do  M^  dM  ^ufki 
t^ywca  Baft  Am  kenrti]  j 
of  makiiig  tlieni  sn  oefca- 
neot  of  sometiuftg  thmy 
bo  expected  to  proenre  lor 
1%  —  flawefs,  for  instiLQce. 
lold  not  imagine/'  I  bare 
aajr^  ^^liovr  the/  delight  in 
AH  the  finer  instincts  of 
ig  are  dimirn  to  the  snx^MO 
St  of  them.  I  am  eure  tfaej 
eojoj  them  far  tnore,  not 
most  people  with  gardens 
dO|  hat  far  more  eren 
would  if  tbej  were  deprived 
fph  of  that  sort  can  only 
But  I  would  rather 
a  gold  watch  than 
0.  6 J  a  present  you 
'  n(?Dt;  and  none  feel 
.  such  an  aeknowledg- 
liuman  relation  to  them, 
bo   look  up   to  you  as 

39 

site  was  talking  thus,  I 
to  object,   for   the  sake  of 
lier  farther. 

Midf    *■  sometimes    the 

thing  you  can  give  a 

that  compassion  which 

Itllink  destroys  the  value 

eoopaiaioa   itself   is  pre- 

she  answered,  '4t 

he  lores  you,  and 

binL    When  that  is 


li%  exeefC  in 
part  of  the] 
eenity?''!) 

""I  wQold  ii0t,''s]ie«ww«f«d;  «%«t 

bi— eil^  the  verf 
way  §aK  tbe  love  wbkb 
eompmmkm  to  naailesl  ileeit  la 
every  other  case,  tbe  trae  way  u  to 
pcofvide  ibeia  witb  woAf  wbtcb  ia 
itself  a  good  Ibing,  bendes  wbat  Ibey 
gain  by  it.  If  a  man  will  not  work, 
neither  &hould  he  eat  It  must  be 
work  with  an  object  in  it,  however: 
it  must  not  be  mere  labor^  such  as 
digging  a  hole  and  filing  it  up  again, 
of  which  I  have  heard*  Ko  man 
could  help  reseutn^nt  at  being  set  to 
such  work.  You  ought  to  let  him 
feel  that  he  is  giving  something  of 
value  to  you  for  the  money  you  give 
to  him.  But  I  have  known  a  whole 
district  so  corrupted  and  degraded  by 
clerical  alms-giving,  that  one  of  the 
former  recipients  of  it  declared,  as 
spokesman  for  the  rest,  that  tbree- 
pence  given  was  far  more  acceptable 
than  five  shiliings  earned.'^ 

A  good  part  of  the  little  time  I 
could  spare  from  my  own  family  was 
now  spent  with  Miss  Clare  in  lier 
work,  through  which  it  was  chiefly 
that  we  became  by  degrees  intimate 
with  Lady  Boruard.  If  ever  there 
was  a  woman  who  lived  this  outer  life 
for  the  sake  of  others,  it   was  ahe» 


^ 


424 


The   Vicar* 8  Daughter. 


Her  inner  life  was,  as  it  were,  auffi- 
cietit  for  herself,  and  found  its  natural 
outward  expression  in  blessing  others. 
She  w:is  like  a  fountain  of  living 
water  that  could  find  iio  vent  but  into 
the  lives  of  her  fellows.  She  had  suf- 
fered more  tlian  falU  to  the  ordinary 
lot  of  women,  in  those  who  were  re- 
lated to  her  most  nearly^  and  for 
many  years  had  looked  for  no  personal 
blessing  from  withouL  She  said  to 
me  once^  that  she  could  not  think  of 
any  thing  that  could  happen  to  herself 
to  make  her  very  happy  now,  except 
a  loved  grandson,  who  was  leading  a 
strange,  wild  life,  were  to  turn  out  a 
Harry  the  Fifth,  —  a  consummation 
which,  however  devoutly  wislied,  was 
not  granted  her  j  for  the  young  man 
died  shortly  after  I  believe  no  one, 
not  even  Miss  Glare,  knew  half  the 
munificent  things  she  did,  or  what 
an  immense  proportion  of  her  large 
income  she  spent  upon  other  people. 
Bat,  a3  she  said  herself,  no  one  under- 
stood the  worth  of  money  better  j  and 
no  one  liked  better  to  have  the  worth 
of  it:  therefore  she  always  adminis* 
tered  her  charity  with  some  view  to 
the  value  of  the  grobabie  return,  — 
With  some  regard,  that  is,  to  the 
amount  of  good  likely  to  result  to 
others  from  the  aid  given  to  one. 
She  always  took  into  consideration 
whether  the  good  was  likely  to  be 
propagated,  or  to  die  with  the  receiver. 
She  confessed  to  frequent  mistakes; 
but  such,  she  said,  was  the  principle 
upon  which  she  sought  to  regulate 
that  part  of  her  stewardship. 

I  wisli  I  could  give  a  photograph 
of  her.  She  was  slight,  and  appeared 
taller  than  she  was,  being  rather 
stately  than  graceful,  with  a  command- 
ing forehead  and  still  blue  eyes.  She 
gave  at  lirst  the  impression  of  coldness, 
with  a  touch  of  haughtiness.  But 
this  was,  I  think,  chiefly  the   result 


of  her  inherited  physique 
moment  her  individuality 
when  her  being,  that  is,  c 
contact  with  that  of  anotha 
impression  vanished  in  the  1 
flavshed  into  her  eyes,  and  i 
that  illumined  her  face. 
woman  of  rank  step  more  tri 
ly  over  the  barriers  which  t 
luted  custom  of  ages  has  boil 
the  classes  of  society.  Sh«  i 
stress  on  good  manoersy  litd 
is  called  good  birth  ;  althon 
latter,  in  its  deep  and  true  ( 
attributed  the  greatest  a  j>ri 
as  the  ground  of  obligatw 
posse  ssor^  and  of  expcctati< 
part  of  others.  But  I  shai 
opportunity  of  sho\N  A 

she  thought  on  this  -  p 

for  I  bethink  me  thas  it 
great  part  of  our  conrenl 
certain  little  gathering,  of  K 
now  going  to  give  aa  aooooj 

CHAPTER    YTTTi 

Fob  I  judged  that  I  migli 
another  little  dinner:  I  thoi 
as  Percivale  had  been  doil 
late!}',  he  might  afiTord,  witit 
ing  brother  s  help,  to  prori 
part  of  the  entertainnoent,  l 
be  goo*!  enough  to  offer  ei 
Morley ;  and  I  now  knew 
nard   sufficiently  well    to 
that  she  would  wiUiaglj 
invitation   from    mo,    and 
pleased  to  meet  Mi^s  CLure, 
would  more  likely  bring  liei 

I  proposed  the  dinner,  ant 
consented  to  it.  My  maic 
the  glorification  of  Miss  ( 
had  more  engagements  of 
and  another  than  an3^bodjf 
fii-st  invited  her,  asking  Ihi 
own  day,  at  some  coasiden 


:I  nrriHL  "Sii  jm   Irr.  .Ll^t^'  "^-      ■  -       t:— -•.     ^       .           .      ! 

ftETT  l-ur"  l»-rr=jr*  -r:    ■»»=i-     :*:  1-- 

e.  LZ(£.  i;t^  «i   aI  2^::??  — --  :-::       ■  ■  .... 

H  t.aiiftT   ife-  nuLi:.    -i3r:*£C-i     :  _ i...-.     "      .      "".^      »  ■  ■ 

»e»K::::r  jCiir  .^.isi^  ^i:l.  z^^'-.zj.  j         r: 

!  cC'Lij'-.rrL    v-m     r.cr     r::".:r._  _               ■-"'^-           "-= 

mm  Z-Uii  in    l  "iir    v    -l     ir_:  —•=■    -        —          -   '    —  . 

■Aat  -Lilt    ZLu^L*-    -u-L    —a    _:;--:•  :— :.                         -         .      . 

lUite  L ■.;:?«   dUi-.T    UL'   -TT--iU.*:_:.    r.  z~    :         "-      "                                 .      - 

IdiLt  tii£  I  fiiiurriL-Tt  —  r^i.-.r.      — ^-^ .-.:     . 

he  L:*:hj«c  I    iiUirmL-.L  tt:::    .._:.  :-.    .            -.    :,                         .^ — 

ItOCE-:*!**'^   LJiL   -    Li:«Kt-L    L'TryrszL     Z  .  '      ..        '   — 1_      ..--.. 

itj  Tr.:;i.  HriTiit  "r:iiiin\i.  r::--Lzz    :    .-?     ..■    .    :-            .;-.. 

Ilul  w»:rLtir  :a-:a  "riit    ukui   •:    -•-  I—     :zi=     ;             .--;_'        ^     j 

Ujr£j*j'.:r  Vr  u:  iiu::^  lisorrnii   .rr  :.-. -^- 

ftl  *rii.-  Ti.'i:    i;um*v   it-r   crriliij:  Z  .-:l     -  ■      -      .-z  .    ■               _^ 

liavSiCr:*!:!^  it  tTuiiuii^"  ijLLiL^-r?-  -: —    ~-i    j".~ —        _    _.               :_^ 

•  b&so-v-s^    :l    TUit    if*irm:iac   ■:  :  — -:    -.-ui.-    ;    i.-   r--_;r._. .-    ^.  : 
rttrc<i:i    cni.^ei     uiit     IT-    •:»;i:v  :-^     .:      ■' 

h  :<str:i,:'j    i:iiLiri7u:-iH-L       — ui'-  *  —  '   i_    :    i.-.    '■  -i    _        i-.-^ 

ftird  o2rr*^  zii*    um  v-irK.    or    :*tr  "   :..-  ^-rz-     _"  ]-.:■-;-"    ■*  -  .r_'.-j 

SKioii :  loT  I  :::cT-::i'.wL  utr  :i:;r  n^'  •  Lrr:..    .-.-—    :.:.  —  :..-     ■-    ..     - 

tovvT  "srit";  :j-rr«^Ttrr  itiD.  iL  r'-^jT"  "It.::-.  ' 

and  everr  Sip" r*  rLi-i 7  zim***, —  •_":"..    i::.-.  *    :ii-.ir--i    1..    Jl::.- 
oat  an  y  n.-»ul : : -  j  i*t llsh   :  c  i«i::r-r - 

confess;  ba:  1  i.i.£  ::»i;^«i  -:;i.->. 
IB  it  mav  »<.-*ro.  s^jt  t-^v^/^  Li^ 
T  the  more  the  L^  ^:■  :«:.  I 
Tc  that  lier  lore  of  tc:r:'':sL.:j:c 
ed  b\-  the  diflBcalnr  brfire  l-*ir-  :i 
excited  her  inttrl^r:,  -wl..:! 
to  meet  the  Deces»:rl««   :-f 

Dger  arrived  fiwt,  then  Mr.  B'.A.:k-  -Ajl'.  ::r  l.  .  ml:  ,^  :"::*..-:•..  ::•.....  ::..; 

i;   Lady   Bernard  brought  Mis*  ^r:  ^il    ;:*    -r..    .—    :.;     ..:.     -    -;   ^ 

■ ;  and  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Morley  ca me  c- ? « z.'rr.   : :  -^  /. .           ;. ■.. y  ^; .; ;■  r;. :  ; :; > 

Tliere  were  several  introductions  before  a  :  r; '...■... 1  >:>>, ,:  :\  :  •  r,/.  ..< 

•  gono  t h roaghy  —  a  ceremony  in  emd i  i\i :  i-. :    :>.'» :u   :  h o  fiv*. ; r. jTs  of  :  h c 
dl    Percivalc,     being    awkward,  English  I'ooj^lo." 

Id  give  me  no  assistance;  whence  He  Jrow  in  his  ohin  with  a  jerk. 

led  to  observe  how  the  presence  and  devoteil  himself  :i<^:iin  to  his  phite, 

Css  Clare  affected  Mr.  and  Mrs.  with  the  air  of  n  *'  Dixi.**  lie  wast  not 

kj;   bat   my   husband   told   me  permitted  to  oat  iu  puaco,  ho wovur. 


•  •:;ii   L.-- 

• 

":-i-   -. 

"^ 

:...^ 

■^ 

uiL 

:ii.n    :. 

1     i -:...•• 

■•    :. 

.... 

' 

• 

"•ii-     • 

!iii.l!.-'" 

i;..* 

• 

J-; 

*  J 

-_ 

r.. 

'Aii.l 

i-iir; 

Ifi."    -. 

1*-:'.'. 

• 

i.i 

lu: 

JL..!- 

'V'  '    = 

4H*     L.I: 

:.--.%"•  IT! 

I-. 

V 

1    ; 

sn. 

,'.'-. 

i   "- 

^  I'll' 

L  -U:.- 

-;iLi.- 

-, 

iL 

Si 

•^'• 

.-■ 

'iC 

:r  T 

■  C^i    u 

"•:-;ir...; 

.;    7.; 

ii 

:i 

i.>-i  : 

•.ji 

IX 

~  '.*LZ 

y-zijr- 

:.::-:  I.I. 

.1  1. 

•^   426 


The  Vicar's  Daughter. 


**  If  you  allow,"  said  Mr.  Blackitone, 
**tbflt  Uie  feeling  can  wear  out,  an  J 
is  wearing  out,  it  matters  little  Ijdw 
long  it  may  take  to  prove  itself  of  a 
hXsQj  because  corruptible  nature.  No 
growth  of  notions  will  blot  loire,  bones- 
tj,  kindness,  out  of  the  human  heart/* 

**  Then/*  said  Lady  Bernard  archly, 
''am  I  to  understand,  Mr.  Blackstone, 
that  you  dou^t  believe  it  of  the  lea&t 
importance  to  come  of  decent  people  ?  " 

**  Your  ladyship  puts  it  well,"  said 
Mr.  Morley,  laughing  mildly,  **and 
with  authority.  The  longer  the 
descent ''  — 

*'The  more  doubtful/'  interrupted 
Lady  Bernard,  laughing.  "  One  can 
hardly  have  come  of  decent  people  all 
through,  you  know.  Let  ns  only  bopCi 
without  inquiring  too  closely,  that 
their  number  preponderates  in  our 
own  indiviilual  cases/' 

Mr.  Morley  stared  for  a  moment, 
and  then  tried  to  laugh  ^  but  unable 
Co  determine  whereabout  he  was  in 
respect  of  the  ^luestion,  betook  himself 
to  his  glass  of  sherry. 

Mr.  Blackstone  considered  it  the 
best  policy  in  general  not  to  explain 
any  remark  he  had  made,  but  to  say 
the  right  thing  better  next  time  in- 
stead. I  suppose  he  believed,  with 
another  friend  of  mine,  that  *^when 
explanations  become  necessary,  they 
become  impossible,"  a  paradox  well 
worth  the  consideration  of  those  who 
write  letters  to  newspapers.  But 
Lady  Bernard  understood  him  well 
enough,  and  was  only  unwinding  the 
clew  of  her  idea, 

"On  the  contrary,  it  must  be  a 
most  serious  lUct,"  he  rejoined,  **to 
any  one  who  like  myself  believes  that 
the  sins  of  the  fathers  are  visited  on 
the  cliildren." 

"Mr.  Blackstone,"  objected  Eoger, 
f*l  can't  imagine  you  believing  such 
^loamfest  injustice/' 


''It  has  been  believed  in nlli 
the  best  of  people,"  he  retr- — ^ 

**  To  whom  possibly  th» 
it  never  suggested  itiself.  I\ 
part,  I  must  either  disbelieve  tl 
disbelieve  in  a  God." 

"  But,  ray  dear  fellow,  dun i  j 
it  is  a  fact  ?  Don't  you  see  cJ 
born  with  the  sins  of  tit 
nestling  in  their  very  l^ 
see  on  which  horn  of  yourownili 
you  would  impalo  yourself/' 

"  Wouldn*t  you  rather  not  I 
in  a  Grod  than  believe  in  an 
one?" 

**  An  unjust  god,"  said  Mr. 
stone,  with  the  honest  evasion 
who  will  not  answer  an  awful  q 
hastily,  ^*  must  be  a  false  god, 
no  god.  Therefore  I  prelum 
ia  some  higher  truth  involved  t 
fact  that  appears  unjust,  the 
tion  of  which  would  nullify  the 
anco." 

*'  I  see  none  in  the  preset 
said  Roger. 

*'  I  will  go  farther  than  « 
mere  opi>osite,"  returned  Hi 
stone.      **  I  will  assort  that 
honor  to  us  to  have  the  sin 
fathers  laid  upon  us.     For  t 
given  into  our  power  to  put  1 
them*  so  that  they  shall  dei 
farther.     If  I  thought  my  fa 
committed  any  sins  for  whiclv 
suffer,  I  should  bo  unspeakabl 
suffer  fur  them,  and  so  hare  j 
lego  of  taking  a  share  in  hisj 
and  some  of  the  weight  of 
mind.  You  see  the  whole  id 
of  a  family,  in  which  we  ate  < 
bound  together,  that  we  m 
with    and  for   each  other. 
thi«  conaequence,  and  you  d^ 
lovt*ly  idea  itself,  with  all  ita  I 
fold  results  of  loveliness/' 

**  You  anticipate  what  I  i 
to  say,  Mr.   Blaokstone^ ''  aa 


Vicar' a  Daughter. 


427 


ould  dilTer  from  jroti 
Aing.  Tbe  chain  of 
talced  after  such  a  compli- 
nil  that  the  non-coiiduct- 

Kone  link,  or  of  many 
not  break  tbe  trans- 
Hies,  I  maj  inherit 
freat-great-grandfather  or 
tome  one  ever  so  much  far- 

Kwbicb  was  acti  ve  wron  g 
other  of  my  ancestors, 
ne  aa  an  impulse  to  that 
J,  which  of  course  I  have 
> }  and  if  I  succeed,  then  it 
locked.  But  it  may  hare 
nay  yet  pass,  to  others  of 
iuttay  who  hare,  or  will 
Ibo  same  —  for  w^ho  knows 
generations  to  oome  ?  — 
all  cease.  Married  people, 
rs.  PerciTale,haTe  an  awful 
If  in  regard  of  the  future 
L  Ton  cannot  tell  to  how 
PDS  you  may  transmit  your 
jrotir  rictoriea.'' 
adierstand  you  right,  Lady 
ia|4  ^OS^^*  "'it^  ifl  the  per- 
oler  of  your  ancestors,  and 
locaal  position,  you  regard 

Hhlieir  persona]  character 
^■inking.  But  of  course 
^PM  to  believe  that  there 
nay  valuable  gifts  more 
low  ihemselves  in  what  is 
tn  descent  \  for  doubtless  a 
of  education  does  much  to 


'  it  is  personal  character 
regard,  wo  may  say  we  are 
&r  descended/'  I  remark- 
m  faave  each  liad  about  the 
her  of  ancestors  with  a 
if  KMie  eort  or  other,  whose 
r&^Mst  bave  to  do  with  ours, 
h  of  which  we  are,  accord- 
Bbckatone,  in  a  most  real 
aceoun  table/' 


"Certainly,"  returned  Lady  Ber- 
nard ;  ^'  and  it  is  impossible  to  say  in 
whose  descent  the  good  or  the  bad 
may  predominate.  I  cannot  tell,  for 
instance,  how  much  of  the  property  I 
inherit  has  been  honestly  come  by,  or 
is  the  spoil  of  rapacity  and  injustice/' 

"  You  are  doing  the  best  you  can  to 
atone  for  such  a  possible  fact,  then,  by 
its  redistribution,"  said  my  husband. 

*'I  confess,"  she  answered,  "tbe 
doubt  has  had  some  share  in  determin- 
ing my  feeling  with  regard  to  the 
management  of  my  property.  I  have 
no  right  to  throw  up  my  stewardships 
for  that  was  none  of  my  seeking,  and 
I  do  not  know  any  one  who  had  a  bet- 
ter claim  to  it ;  but  I  count  it  only  a 
stewardship.  I  am  not  at  liberty  to 
throw  ray  orchard  open,  for  that  would 
result  not  only  in  its  destruction,  but 
in  a  renewal  of  the  fight  of  centuries 
ago  for  its  possession  ;  but  I  will  try 
to  distribute  my  apples  properly. 
That  is,  I  have  not  the  same  rigitt  to 
give  away  foolishly  that  I  have  to 
keep  wisely/' 

"  Then/'  resumed  Roger,  who  had 
evidently  been  pondering  what  Lady 
Bernard  had  previously  said,  **you 
would  consider  what  is  called  klep- 
tomania as  the  impulse  to  steal  trans- 
mitted by  a  thief-ancestor  ?  " 

*' Nothing  seems  to  me  more  likely. 
I  know  a  nobleman  whose  servant 
has  to  search  his  pK>ckets  for  spoou 
or  forks  erety  night  as  soon  as  he  ii 
in  bed/' 

**I  should  fijid  it  very  hard  to 
define  the  difference  between  that  and 
stealing/'  said  Miss  Clare,  now  first 
taking  a  part  in  the  conversation.  ^'I 
have  sometimes  wondered  whether 
kleptomania  was  not  merely  the  fash- 
ionable name  for  stealing/' 

**  The  distinction  is  a  difHcult  one, 
and  no  doubt  the  word  is  occasionally 
misapplied.     But  I  think   there  ia  a 


The  Viear*s  Doughs. 


^ 


diHercDce,  The  noblemaa  to  vvboin 
I  referred  makes  no  objection  to  being 
thus  deprived  of  bis  U<joty  ;  wbicb,  for 
one  tliingi  appears  to  show  that  the 
temptation  is  intermittent,  and  par- 
takes at  least  of  the  character  of  a 
disease." 

**  But  are  there  not  discaaes  which 
are  only  so  much  the  worse  diseases 
that  they  are  not  intermittent  ?  "  said 
Miss  CKire.  **  Is  it  not  hard  that  the 
privileges  of  kleptomania  should  be 
confined  to  tlie  rich  ?  You  never  hear 
the  word  applied  to  a  poor  cliild^  even 
if  his  father  was,  haliit  and  reputct  a 
thief.  Surely,  when  hunger  and  cold 
iggravate  the  attacks  of  inherited 
emptation,  they  cannot  at  the  same 
time  aggravate  i\\e  culpability  of 
yielding  to  them?  '* 

"On  the  contrary,"  said  Roger, 
"one  would  naturally  suppose  they 
addcil  immeasurable  excuse/* 

"Only,"  said  Mr.  Biackstone, 
"there  comes  in  our  ignorance,  and 
consetiuent  inability  to  judge.  The 
very  Jact  of  the  presence  of  motives 
of  a  most  powerful  kind  renders  it 
impossible  to  be  certain  of  the  pres- 
ence of  the  disease;  whereas  other 
motives  being  apparently  absent,  we 
presume  disease  as  the  reatliest  way 
of  actouiiting  fur  the  propensity;  1 
do  not  therefore  think  it  is  the  only 
way.  I  believe  there  are  cases  in 
which  it  comes  of  pnne  greed,  and  is 
•f  the  same  kind  as  any  other  injustice 
the  capability  of  exercising  which  is 
more  generally  distributed.  Whj^ 
should  a  thief  be  unknown  in  a  class, 
a  proportion  of  the  members  of  which 
ifl  capable  of  wrongs  chicanery,  oppres- 
sion, indeed  any  form  of  absolute 
Bliishness  ?  " 

**  At  all  eventa/'  said  Lady  Ber- 
nard, **  so  long  as  we  do  our  best  to 
help  them  to  grow  better,  we  cannot 
make  too  much  allowaace  for  such  as 


have  not  only  been   bom 
impnldesy  but  hare  had  eve 
necessity  to  urge  them  iu 
direction ;  while,  on  the  otb 
they   have     not    had    one 
restraining   influences  which 
home  and  education    would 
forded.     Such  must,  so  far 
opment  goes^  be  bat  a  Uttle 
beasts," 

"You  open  si  very  diffici 
tion,"  said  Mr*  Morley 
wo  to  do  with  them 
they  are  wild  beasts,  we 
them ;  though  that  would, 
be  the  readiest  way  to  pat 
the  breed." 

"^'Even  that  would  not  si 
Lady  Bernard.     *' There 
ways  be  a  deposit  bom 
classes  sufficient  to  keep  up  1 
But,  Mr.  Morley,  I  did  not 
beast ji :  I  only  said  deoiU^ 
a  great  difference  betwi 
a  sheep-dog," 

*^  There  is  nearly  as  mu 
a    Seven-Dials* rough 
dog." 

*^  In  moral     attainment* 
you,^^  said  Mr.  Black&tone 
moral    capacity,    no. 
must  remember,  both  w 
the  sheep-dog  has,  and 
have  been  taken  with   his 
education,  as  well  as  tl 
cestors." 

"  Granted  all  that,^ 
ley,  *^  there  the  fact  re 
my  part,  I  confess  I  don' 
is  to  be  done.  The  clasaij 
you  refer  goes  on  increusiog| 
this  garrotting  now.  I  spj 
ter  at  Algiers  lately,  and  « 
the  suburbs  of  that  cicy  I 
ably  safer  than  atiy  part  i 
is  now,  to  judge  from  I 
reports.  Yet  I  am  accnsei 
maatty  and  sel&shuess  i£ 


Th€ 


beck  Ibr  etgij 

Bdkii|ioii  n 

grnnui,  mod  to  repfMBifi  ll 

isnt^  in  die  Eftst  Ead  !* 

^   an  bad 

id,   vitlijii  m    iB« 

\iflluid  Pbc«,  for 

UfiasCIate. 

Hb  to  me  higUj 

filork J  went  on-     **  Wby 

ipmd  n  J  iBOfiCff  to  petpets- 

leofidttioQ  of  UtlngBT'* 

woold  in  aO  llketilMod  be 
iiicj  of  jrovr  mbseripAloii,*' 
Bbckatooe. 

wbf  tbotild  17"  tepeated 
my  vitb  m  smOe  of  trimiipbL 
*  ttid  Kifls  Clare,  in  an  apol- 
Hc^  ''il  eeems  to  me  joa 
iktake  in  regardiog  tbepoor 
r  pcfwtj  were  the  only  d»- 
If  wbicb  tbey  could  be  clis* 
Rhe  poor  are  not  all  tbieres 
itofiy  nor  eren  nil  nntbank- 
miboly.  There  are  jost  as 
nd  as  tielicato  distiuctioDs 
bat  stratam   of  social  exist- 

te  upper  strata.  I  should 
Hodey  Icuows  a  few,  be* 
e  tame  social  grade  with 
ridk  irirani,  bowever,  be  would 
to  be  on  aoy  terms   of  in- 

!W,"  responded  Mr.  Mor- 

ieoua  (rown, 

know  the  poor  as  well 

can  know  the  rich,  har- 

gst  them  almost  from 

tbat  lam  acquainted 

V  irbor  in  alt  the  essen- 

life  and    character, 

to  any  circle/' 

be  sorry  to  seem   to  im- 

may  not  be  rery  wor- 

gst  them^  Miss  Clare  \ 

■ocb  wbo  draw  our  atten* 
ft 

vba  force   themselTes 


aaja.  Am  I 
brolbec's  fceeperT  Wby,  jmI 
aideiv  Mi:  Maelef :  mp|iuiu  In  a 
family  tbere  wei^  one  leas  gifted  tbaa 
the  otber?,  and  tbst  in 
they  all  witbdrew  fivn  bini|  and  1 
no  interest  in  bis  a&Irt :  what  wnnld 
become  of  him  ?  Mast  be  not  sink  ?  ** 

"Difference  of  rank  is  a  diTine 
appointment^  —  you  must  allow  that 
If  there  were  not  a  variety  of  grades, 
the  social  machine  would  soon  come  to 
a  stand-still/* 

^A  strong  argument  for  taking 
care  of  the  smallest  wheel,  for  all  the 
parts  are  interdependent.  That  th^re 
should  be  different  classes  is  nrtdoabt* 
edly  a  divine  intention,  and  not  to  b« 
turned  aside.  But  suppote  the  lemi- 
gifted  boy  is  fit  for  some  nanaal  l»* 
bor;  suppose  he  takes  to  earp#nlirrng, 
and  works  weD,  and  keep*  lb*  kooa* 
tidy,  and  every  thing  in  |pood  nvpaiff 
while  bis  brotbenpursnotlidrttodM 
and  prepare  for  profomNM  bajosd 
hisr^u^b:  is  tbe  iiderior  boy  dtffl^ad 
by  doing  thu  btst  be  can  f  Is  lliiiv 
any  reason   in  tb#  nattifa  of  lliiiifi 


430 


The   Vicar's  DaugkUr. 


■ 


why  lie  sbould  sink  ?  But  he  will 
most  likely  sink,  scMjner  or  later,  if 
his  brothers  take  no  interest  in  his 
work,  and  treat  him  as  a  being  of 
nature  inferior  to  their  own/' 

"  I  beg  your  pardon/'  said  Mr. 
Morley,  "but  is  he  not  on  the  very 
supposition  inferior  to  them  ?  " 

**  Intellectually,  yes  ;  morally,  no  j 
for  he  13  doing  his  work,  possibly  bet- 
ter than  they,  and  therefore  taking  a 
higher  place  in  the  eternal  scale.  But 
granting  all  kinds^  of  inferiority^  his 
nature  remains  the  sam^  with  their 
*own ;  and  the  question  is,  whether 
they  treat  him  as  one  to  be  helped  up, 
or  one  to  bo  kept  down ;  as  one  un- 
worthy of  sympathy,  or  one  to  he 
honored  for  filling  his  part :  in  a  word, 
$19  one  belonging  to  them,  or  one 
whom  they  put  up  with  only  because 
his  work  is  necessary  to  them." 

"What  do  you  mean  by  being 
*  helped  up'  ?"  asked  Mr*  Morley. 

"  I  do  not  mean  helped  out  of  his 
trade,  but  helped  to  make  the  best 
of  it,  and  of  the  intellect  that  finds 
its  development  in  that  way." 

*'  Very  good*  But  yet  I  don't  see 
how  you  apply  your  supposition.'* 

"For  an  instance  of  application, 
then  :  How  many  rej*pec table  people 
know  or  care  a  jot  about  their  ser- 
vants, except  as  creatures  necessary 
to  their  cnmfort  ?  " 

''Well,  Miss  Clare,"  said  Judy, 
addressing  her  for  the  first  time,  "if 
you  had  had  the  hiilf  to  do  with  ser- 
vants I  have  had,  you  would  alter 
your  opinion  of  them." 

'*  I  have  expressed  no  opinion,"  re- 
turned Miss  Clare.  "I  have  only 
said  tl?at  masters  and  miatrosses 
know  and  care  next  to  nothing  about 
them," 

"  They  are  a  very  ungrateful  class, 
what  you  will  for  them." 
I  **  I  am  afraid  they  are  at  present 


growing  more  a»d  more  con 
class,"    rejoined  Miss    CI 
gratitude  is   a  high  virtue, 
in  any  case  I  don't  see  bow 
look  for  mach  of  it   from 
mon  sort  of  them.  And  yet  wl 
mistresses  do  not  get  ao  mac 
they  deserve,  I  fear  most 
expect  far  more  of  it  than 
any  right  to." 

"  You  cafit  get  them  to 
truth." 

*^  That  I  am  airaid  is  a  in 

"I  have  never  known 
whose  word  I  could  depend, 
Judy. 

"  My  father  says  he  hA 
one,"  I  interjected. 

"  A  sad  confirmation  of 
ley,"  said  Miss  Clare.     "B 
part    I   know  very  few 
any  rank  on  whose  represel 
things    I  could     absolai 
Truth  is  the  highest  vi 
dom  grows  wild.      It 
speak  the  truth,  and  those 
tried  it  longest  best  know 
cult  it  is.     Servants  need  to 
that  as  well  as  evetybody  elj 

**  There  is  nothing  they 
much  as  being  taught,"  8ai<^ 

"  Perhaps :  they  are  very^ 
docile  ;  and  I  believe  it  id' 
use  to  attempt  giving  iki 
lessons." 

**How,  then,  are  yaii  i 
them  ?  " 

"  By  making  it  very  plain 
but  without  calling  their  at! 
it,  that  you  speak  the  truth, 
course  of  a  few  years  tl 
come  to  tell  a  lie  or  two  thi 
that." 

"  Not  a  very  hopeful  proep 
Judy, 

"  Kot  a  very  rapid  impia 
said  her  husband. 

''  I  look  for  DO  rapid  impiq 


¥ 


The  Vicar's  Davghler. 


431 


a  liiitoiy  as  the  flnpposi- 
h^^'  «sid  Miss  Clare. 
iroQid  jr©a  oot  tell  them  how 
h?''  I  asked. 

olreadj  that  it  k  wicked 
\ ;  bot  tK#7  do  not  feel  that 
wicked  ill  making  the  as* 
baj  do*  The  less  said  about 
tntthy  and  the  more 
|iraclica]  ttath,  the  better 
irbooi  any  one  would  teach 
lying.  SOf  at  least,  it  ap- 
ifib  I  despair  of  teaching 
soept  hj  leamiDg  mjself/^ 
do  no  more  than  that,  yoa 
produce  an  appreciable 
ime," 

!d  it  be  appreciated  ?  " 
m  Clare, 

have  said,  on  the  con- 
^i*    Blackstone, 
',  Morley,  "if  you  do 
yoa  can  not  do — you 
BO  effect  whaterer." 
no  right  to  make  ft  a 
aur  obedience,  that  we 
feflox  in  the  obedience 
Old  Xisa  Clare.     ''  We 
ptill   oot  the  beam,  not  the 


fOQ  oo^  then,  to  pull  the  mot« 
yoar  htother^a    eye?''   said 

0  cmM  and  on  no  pretence^ 

1  liaTe  pulled  the  beam  out 
own  eyf/'  said  Mr.  Black- 
which  I  fancy  will  make 
'  of  finding  fault  with  one*s 
a  nuta  one ;  for  who  will  ven- 
ay  he  hai  qaalt£ed  himself 

oo  wonder  that  a  Hlence  fol* 
on  thia ;  for  the  talk  had  got 
f  prTioaa  for  a  dinner-table. 
mmxA  was  the  first  to  speak. 
Iter  10  take  up  the  dropped 
I ii«  eotrreiifttxm  than  to  be- 
p  rreL 


*^  It  cannot  be  denied,''  she  said, 
^*  whoeyer  may  be  to  blame  for  it^  that 
the  separation  between  the  rich  and  the 
poor  has  either  been  greatly  widened 
of  late,  or,  which  involves  the  same 
practical  necessity,  we  hare  become 
more  aware  of  the  breadth  and  depth 
of  a  gulf  which,  however  it  may 
distinguish  their  circumstances,  ought 
not  to  divide  them  from  eaeh  other. 
Certainly  the  rich  withdraw  them- 
selret  from  the  poor.  Instead,  for 
instance,  of  helping  them  to  bear 
their  burdens,  they  leave  the  still 
struggling  poor  of  whole  parishes  to 
sink  into  hopeless  waut,  under  the 
weight  of  those  who  hare  already 
sunk  beyond  recovery.  I  am  not  sure 
that  to  shoot  them  would  not  involve 
less  injustice.  At  all  events,  he  that 
hates  his  brother  is  a  murderer/' 

''  But  there  is  no  question  of  hat- 
ing here,"  objected  Mr.  Morley, 

*'I  am  not  certain  that  absolute 
indiflference  to  one's  neighbor  is  not 
as  bad.  It  came  pretty  nearly  to  the 
same  thing  in  the  case  of  thft  priest 
and  the  Levite,  who  passed  by  on  the 
other  side,''  said  Mr.  Blackstone. 

"Still,"  said  Mr.  Morley,  in  all 
the  self-importance  of  one  who 
prided  himself  on  the  practical,  **  I  do 
not  see  that  Miss  Clare  has  proposed 
any  remedy  for  the  state  of  things 
concerning  the  evil  of  which  we  are 
all  agreed.  What  is  to  be  done? 
What  can  /  do  now  ?  Come,  MiM 
Clare." 

Miss  Clare  was  silent. 

"Marion,  my  child,"  said  Lady 
Bernard,  turning  to  her,  **will  you 
answer  Mr.  Morley  ?  " 

**  Not,  certainly,  as  to  vth&t  h^  can 
do:  that  question  I  dare  not  under- 
take to  answer.  I  can  only  speak  of 
what  principles  I  may  teem  to  have 
discovered.  But  until  a  man  begins 
to  bdiSFe  to  those  with  whom  ho 


i 


432 


The  Vicar* 8  Daughter, 


into  personal  contact  as  par- 
.  ti^lcet^  of  the  same  nature,  to  recog- 
itiizCr   lor   instance,   between   himself 
rand  his  trades- people  a  bond  superior 
to  that  of  supply  and  demand,  1  can- 
not i  magi  no   how  ho   is  to  do  any 
thing  towards   the  drawing  together 
of  the  edges  of  the  gaping  wound  in 
the  social  body." 

**But,"  persisted  Mi.  Morley,  who, 
I  began  to  think,  showed  some  real 
desire  to  come  at  a  practical  conclu- 
sion, "aupjxjse  a  man  finds  himself 
[incapable  of  that  sort  of  thing — ^for 
it  seoras  to  me  to  want  some  rare 
qualification  or  other  to  be  able  to  con- 
verse witlj  an  uneducated  person**  — 
"There  are  many  sucJi,  especially 
I  amongst  those  who  follow  handi- 
crafts," interposed  Mn  Blaclcstone, 
**  who  think  a  great  deal  more  than 
most  of  the  so-called  educated.  There 
is  a  truer  education  to  be  got  in  the 
pursuit  of  a  handicraft  than  in  the 
life  of  a  mere  scholar-  But  I  beg 
your  pardon.  Mr.  Morley." 

"  Suppose,"  resumed  Mr  Morley, 
accepting  the  apology  without  dis- 
ci aimer^ —  **  Suppose  I  find  I  can  do 
nothing  of  that  sort;  is  there  nothing 
•f  any  sort  I  can  do  ?  " 

*'  Nothing  of  the  best  sort,  I  firmly 
believe,"  answered  Miss  Clare ;  "  for 
the  genuine  recognition  of  the  human 
relationship  can  alone  give  value  to 
whatever  else  you  may  do,  and  indeed 
can  alone  guide  you  to  what  ought  to 
be  done*  I  had  a  rather  painful 
illustration  of  this  the  other  duy.  A 
gentleman  of  wealth  and  position 
offered  me  the  use  of  his  grounds  for 
some  of  my  poor  friends,  whom  I 
\  wanted  to  take  out  for  a  half-holiday. 
I  In  the  neighborhood  of  London,  tha-t 
is  a  great  boon.  But  unfortunately, 
whether  from  his  mistake  or  mine,  I 
was  left  with  the  impression  that  he 
would  provide  some  little  entertain- 


ment for  them ;  I  am  certaio 
least  milk  was  mentioned.    Il  i 
lovely  day ;  eTery  tiling  lookwl  1 
tiful;  and  although  they  were 
great  spirits,  poor  things,  do 
the   shade  and  the   gn^ss   and] 
green   trees  wronght   some 
them.     Unhappily,  two  of  th«j 
had  got  drunk  on  the  way  ;  siod,  j 
ful  of  giving  offence,  I  had  to  I 
them  back  to  the  station.  — fori 
poor  helpless  wive-s  could  only  ( 
and   send   them    home   by 
should  have  done  better  to 
offence,   and    take     thcra    into  | 
grounds,  where  they  might  soon  1 
slept  it  off  under  a  tree.     I  had  I 
distance  to  go^  and  some  difl 
getting  them  along ;  and  i 
back  I  found  things  in  anj 
condition,  for  nothing  had  I 
them  to  eat  or  drink,  —  inde 
tent  ion  had  been  paid  them  wba 
There  was  company  at  dinner  id 
house,  and  I  could  not  find  an] 
with  authority.      I  hurried  in 
neighboring  village,  and 
contents  of  two   bakers*  shop*,! 
which  I  retxirned  in  lime  togir 
a  piece  of  bread  before  the  ooa 
came  out  to  look  at  them.     A  ( 
dressed  group,  they  stood  by 
selves  languidly  regarding  ths 
ly    languid    but     rather    ind 
groups  of  ill-clad  and   himgry^ 
and  women  upon   the    lawn, 
made   no  attempt     to     mingltl 
them,  or  arrive  at  a  notion 
was  moving  in  any  of  their 
The  nearest  approach  to  coinn 
I  saw  was  a  poke  or  two  gh 
child   with    the   point   of  a 
Were  ray  poor  friends  likely  to  ] 
to  their  dingy  homes  with  any 
feeling  of  regard  for  the  gif 
such  cold  welcome  ?  " 

^*Bat    that    was    an    ex 
case/'  said  lilr.  Morley. 


\  m  thhr 

^  St  WM  m  CMe  wX  afl — 
frre  thus  preseQtvd  wil&  a    '  !■  i 
I  iDOia  on  tli0  &De  of  Cfe   lag  t#  W% 
boors.''  ^M  if-  hm 

Usiok  Ibe  &«i2i  air  ma^ 
good?'- 

tt   we  vm  yiafciiift  I 
rluit  might  aerre  loradi    &■»  il  «f  ^ 
^  of  tW  golf  bftwBca  tke 

i 

HHnoiall 

r  bj  pezsoiks  in  m 

I  in  tbai  dirediaD  f 

Li]itbatToac»a» 

b  in  tbew^oC 

Lot  rasiill  in 

pxc6pl  JCQ  do  it 

Le  cbadtj  of 

Lfc  loTe^  in  iboftyvioA  ii 


434 


The  Vicar  ^8  Daughter. 


£riendi  it  is  worse  than  useless  to  pie- 
tend  to  be  fiucli,  and  until  tbey  feel 
that  we  are  their  fiienda  it  is  worse 
that  useless  to  talk  to  them  about 
God  and  religion*  They  will  none  of 
it  from  our  lips." 

"Will  they  from  any  lips?  Are 
they  not  already  too  far  sunk  towards 
the  brutes  to  he  capable  of  receiving 
any  such  rousing  influence  ? "  sug- 
gested Mr*  Blackstone  with  a  smile^ 
evidently  wishing  to  draw  Miss  Clare 
out  yet  further." 

"  You  turn  me  aside,  Mr.  Black- 
stone.  I  wanted  to  urge  Mr.  Morlcy 
to  go  into  parliament  as  spiritual 
member  for  the  poor  of  our  large 
towns.  Besides,  I  know  you  don't 
think  as  your  question  would  imply. 
As  far  as  ray  experience  guides  me, 
I  am  hound  to  believe  that  there  is  a 
spot  of  soil  in  every  heart  sufficient 
for  the  growth  of  a  gospel  seed.  And 
I  believe^  moreover,  that  not  only  is 
he  a  fellow- worker  with  God  who 
BOWS  that  seed,  but  that  he  also  is 
one  who  opens  a  way  for  that  seed  to 
enter  the  soil.  If  such  preparation 
were  not  necessaryj  the  Saviour  would 
have  come  the  moment  Adam  and 
Eve  fell,  and  would  have  required  no 
Baptist  to  precede  him,'' 

A  good  deal  followed  which  I 
would  gladly  record,  enabled  as  I  now 
am  to  assist  my  memory  by  a  more 
thorough  acquaintance  with  the  views 
of  Miss  Clare.  But  I  fear  I  have  al- 
ready given  too  much  conversation  at 
once. 

CHAPTER  XXIII, 
THE  END  OF  THE  E VEXING* 

What  specially  delighted  me  dur- 
ing the  evening,  was  the  marked  at- 
tention, and  the  serious  look  in  the 
eyes,  with  which  Koger  listened.  It 
was  not  often  that  he  did  hx)k  seri- 
ous.    He  preferred,  if  possible,  to  get 


a  joke  out  of  a  thing;  but  win 
did  enter  into  an  ar 
always  fair.     Althougli 
the  side  of  objection  to  any  i 
remarki  he  yet  never  said  aajl 
against  religion  itself.    But  hi«  ] 
ciples,  and  indeed  his  naturr, 
as  yet  in   a   state  of  soluti(m,-| 
crystallized,  as  xqj  father 
Iflr.    Morley,    on    the 
seemed  an  insoluble  ma 
of  receiving  impressions 
minds.      Any  enggestion  of  1 
mind,  as  to  a  course  of 
mode  of  thinking,  had  a  good  I 
of  being  without   questioa 
as  reasonable  and  right :  he  i 
than  ordinarily  prejudiced  in  I 
favor.     The  day  after  thej 
at  our  house,  I^Oss  Clare  had 
from  him,  in  which  he  ttok  tij 
hand  with  her,  rebuking  hct  t 
for  her  presumption  in  say 
represented  it,  that  no  goo<l  < 
done  except  after  the  fashion  \ 
down,   and    assuring    her 
would  thus  alienate  the  mosti 
assistance  from  any  scheme  she  I 
cherish  for  the   amelioratioa 
condition   of    the    lower 
ended  with  the  offer  of  a  \ 
scription  of  five  pounds  to  anyj 
of  the  wisdom  of   which  ibej 
take   the   trouble   to   con?ino 
She  replied,  thanking  him 
his  advice  and  his  offer,  bail 
that,  as  she  had  no  scheme  olH 
requiring  such  assist^mce,  &bo 
not    at   present    accept    tlie 
should,  however,  any  thing 
self  for  which  that  sort  of  1 
desirable,  she  would  t^e  the 
of  reminding  him  of  it. 

When  the  ladies  rose,  3xLij\ 
me  aside,  and  said,  — 

"What  does   it   all  mean^ 
nie  ?  " 

'*  Just  what  you  hear/*  1 1 


TTre  Vicar's  Daughter. 


435 


I  have  %  triumph 
Riighty  thiDg  \  ** 
tly  —  if  I  am  to  he 
&r  more  to  make  you  do 
Mim  Clare.    You  heing 

I  had  a  right  to  that  at 
r  Bernard  know  aa 
lier  aa  she  eeems  ?  ^ 
0WB  erery  thing  about 
ttim  her,  too,  in  her  Terj 
abode.  Ton  see,  Judj, 
If  h«  a  £»ct,  and  yet  be 

giotng  to  he  lectured  by  a 
a*     Bat  I  ehould  like  to 

talk  with  Miss  Clare." 
ake  yoa  an  opportmiity.^ 
Bttd  eoold  iko4  help  owtr- 
mrf  pretty  apology;  to 

Clate  replied,  that  ahe 
Ndy  was  to  hhuae,  inaa- 

ought  to  have 
Kjr  of  her 

^it  had  not  appeewd  to 
ff  ilie  said ;  bat  now  ahe 
f  m  point  of  enpiaialog 

bOQpled  soy  nedi  wily  oc 

iht  »w  it  wovU  he 

ill  paitxiL     It  WW  BO 


my  want  of  openness  with  you  would 
be  the  cause  of  it.  If  you  should 
part  with  her  for  any  other  reason,  I 
should  be  rery  glad  to  eerro  you 
again." 

Judy  tried  to  argue  with  her,  but 
Hiss  Clare  was  immovable. 

'*Will  you  let  me  come  and  ata 
you,  then  ?  "  said  Jndy. 

**  With  all  my  heart,"  she  answered. 
'*You  hafl  better  come  with  Iba. 
Percivale,  though,  for  it  would  not  bt 
easy  for  you  to  find  the  place.*^ 

We  went  up  to  the  drawiug-rooitt 
to  tea,  passing  through  the  study, 
and  taking  the  gentlemen  with  ui. 
Miss  Clare  played  to  ui,  and  sang 
aereral  songs,  —  the  last  a  ballad  of 
Sehtller'sj  "The  POgrim,^  eeUing 
forth  the  constant  strmsgof  the  soul 
after  something  of  which  it  eererlayi 
hdd.  The  Uat  Terse  of  tt  I  maaaged 
to  ieaea»btr.     It  ww  thia :  — 


r«abl  aoCoofpiik 
Abttbe 


i 


AadtbsneRls 

'^Dial  ii  a  beaattfal   aoi^  cad 
magT  aril  Mx.  Bbelk 
bol  I  aia  a  Btde  amfefatd 
it  year  ehoosaag  to  riag  tt,  §i  pm 
call  it  a  r 


Dioa't  yes  iai  St  Pari  fltyiw 

H  aftb   aol 

itaBid  with  a 

be  p^ri&Mf  kaew  what 

la      ''Tea    IjmI 


eat  la  ^  Md,  hal 


i  lady  I  hare 
I    hat  the 


teho^ 


'That  ie  fraa;  hat  dbesa  Ii  CMi 
— Aat  H  Paal  €M^ 
— >ti  siilliai  0t  mm 

vUiMMbr  la  ffttf 
fffie    at  Int^  taMae^t  mif  aif 

Aat  Aff  Ml  mimmmti  Jm^r" 


436 


The   Vicar* 8  Daughter. 


"  It  may  have  been  only  a  mood," 
said  Miss  Clare,  **  St.  Paul  had  bis 
moods  aUo,  from  which  he  had  to 
rouse  himself  to  fresh  faith  and  hope 
and  effort," 

"But  St.  Paul  writes  onlj  iu  his 
hopeful  moods.  Such  alone  he  counts 
worthy  of  sharing  with  his  fellows. 
If  there  is  no  hope,  why,  upon  any 
theory,  take  the  trouble  to  say  so? 
It  is  pure  weakness  to  desire  sym- 
patljy  iu  hopelessness,  Hope  alone 
justities  as  well  as  excites  either 
utterance  or  effort.'* 

*'I  admit  all  yon  say,  Mr.  Black- 
fitone  J  and  yet  I  think  sucb  a  poem 
invaluable  ;  for  is  not  Schiller  therein 
the  mouth  of  the  whole  creation 
groaning  and  travailling  and  inarticu- 
lately crying  out  fur  the  soiiship  ?  " 

"  Unconsciously,  then.  He  does 
not  know  what  he  wants," 

"  Apparenthjy  not.  Keither  does 
the  creation.  Neither  do  we.  We 
do  know  it  is  oneness  with  God  we 
want;  but  of  what  that  means  we 
have  only  vague,  though  glowing 
hints," 

I  saw  Mr.  Morley  scratch  his  lefk 
ear  like  a  young  calf,  only  more  im- 
patiently. 

"But,'-  Miss  Clare  went  on,  "is  it 
not  invaluable  as  the  confession  of 
one  of  the  noblest  of  spirits,  that  he 
had  found  neither  repose  nor  sense 
of  attainment  ?  ** 

*'  But  "  said  Roger,  *'  did  you  ever 
know  any  one  of  those  you  call 
Christians  who  professed  to  have 
reached  satisfaction  ;  or,  if  so,  whose 
life  would  justify  you  in  believing 
him  ?  " 

"  I  have  never  known  a  satisfied 
Christian,  I  confess,**  answered  Miss 
Clare,  "  Indeed,  I  should  take  satis- 
faction as  a  poor  voucher  for  Christi- 
anity. But  I  have  known  several 
contented   Christians.      I   might,   in 


respect  of  one  or  two  of  ihwBi^ 
stronger  word,  —  certairilj  not  j 
jleiL      I   believe   there  is  % 
essential  unsatisfaotion,  —  I 
mean    dissatisfaction,  —  whici  i 
the   delight   of    expectation  toj 
peace  of  attainment;  and  that, i 
sume,  is   the  very  consciousnei 
heaven.      But  where  faith 
have  produced  even  cont 
will  yet  sustain  hope: 
may  judge  from  the  ba 
aspiration  can.     We  mo^tt 
a  living  ideal,  before  we  caio ' 
tireless  heart;  an  ideal  which | 
our  poor  vague  ideal  to  itself, 
it  full  and  make  it  alive/' 

I  should  have  been  amazed  I 
Miss  Clare  talk  like  this»  hod^ 
often  heard  my  father  say  tk 
ration  and  obedience  were 
mightiest     farces     for    develoi 
Her  own  needs    and   her  owal 
had  been  her  tutors  \  and  (k^ 
by  which  she  had  rea<i  their) 
was   the   candle  of  the  Lord 
her. 

When  ray  husband  would  1 
her  into  Lady  Bernard's 
they  were  leaving,  she  said  she  I 
prefer  walking  home  ;   and,  \ 
Bernard   did    not   press  her 
contrary,  Percivale  could  not 
strate.     "I  am  sorry  I  canu 
with  you,  Miss  Clare/'  he 
must  not  leave  my  duties,  but' 

**  There's  not    the    sliglitestj 
flion,"   she    interrupted, 
every  yard  of  the  way.     Good-^ 

The  carriage  drove  off  in 
rection,  and  Miss  Clare  tripp 
ly   along    in    the   other, 
darted  into  the  house,  and  told  J 
who  snatched  up  his  hat,  and  1 
after  her.     Already  she  wiwt  i 
sight;  but  he,  following  lights 
overtook  her  in  the  crescent 
however,  only  after  persistent  < 


The  Vicar'8  Daughter. 


437 


ibd  on  her  to  allow  him 
ber. 

Qoi  knoiv,  Mr.  ^BLogieT/* 
fiftiitlj,  **  what  yoo  may 

may  have  to  do  esotDt^- 
Mildil^t   like   to  hare  a 

Ely  t4io  glad  to  hav« 
re  in  any  thing  yo«Q 
id  Soger, 
out,  they  had  not  gone 
ey  came  tt{>on  a  little 
'  of  hajSf  who  OQght  to 
bed  long  before,  gath- 
maa  and  woman.  The 
ing  hU  company  on  a 
ne  evidently  annoyed 
Bot  get  nd  of  him. 
P  husband?'*  a^ed 
akiQ£  her  wi^  thiongh 

attdwered. 
afore.  Vm  only 
I  the  coontry.** 
angry 
Koger  said  bcr 
angeronaly^  and  aW  ISelt 
ft  of  ber  dress  —  for  a 
iiftain. 

s  her  alone,*  lia  waad  to 
between  kla  aad 


spoke  to  him,  but  in  a  voice  so  low 
and  gentle  that  Boger,  who  had  fol- 
lowed her,  ooold  not  hear  a  word  she 
said.  For  a  moment  or  two  the  man 
seemed  to  try  to  listen,  but  his  condi- 
tion was  too  mnch  for  him ;  and,  turn- 
ing from  her,  he  began  again  to  follow 
the  womaCf  who  was  now  walking 
wearily  away.  Eoger  again  inter- 
pocedL 

« Don't  strflce  him,  Mr.  Eoger/' 
cried  Hjie  €fa»:  ''he's  too  drunk 
fiir  iiial.  But  keep  him  back  if 
yon  can,  while  I  take  the  woman 
away.     If  I  see  a  policeman,  I  will 

Tke  man  beaid  ber  la^t  wordx,  and 
they  raoaed  kim  to  fnzy.  He  runhcd 
at  Boger,  who,  impUcttly  obedientp 
only  dodged  to  let  htm  pate,  and 
again  eoo^reoted  him,  engaging  his 
mtfl  help  arrired.  He  wia^ 
r,  hf  Ala  tine  to  fieret  and 
lioleat^  that  Boger  felt  boand  to  «► 
i^^  tiie  ptrfwTiBtan, 

Am  mom  wm  tke  mma  waa  locked  npi 
be  wmt  tn  lout  Cowt    Tba 


^I 


hm.    Along  iba 
wtm  p>tmg  «id  corning^ 
wai  pflM  inidsigliep  bot  the 
Teiy  ftO.    Ub  wafherl  into 
s  tba  ippl  ivbef9  we  hail  to- 
daft^    The  door  al 
was  9pe0 ;  bnl 
Aotbfaif  ef  Ibt  boaaf  or  it4 
%9  cxwprgililse  he? 
He    wslked 
«p  and  dmrn^  wnnewhal 
gmiofilf    pmaailiiif 
n  aH  pwuMtlhff  no 
bad  beUlUri  liMf ) 
WMlaMi  lo  htiiM  the 

bask  la  evr  hrniAe,  whurffi 

at  hN  Anal  irlpe 

be  idM  blm  alt  abaal 


438 


Silver  hUt  Mine, 


SILVER  ISLET  MINE. 


BY   B.   G.    MIFFLUr. 


KoT  many  monttjB  ago,  a  friend  of 
mine  met  an  English  geDtleman  re- 
cently returned  horn  the  north  ahore 
of  Lake  Superior.  The  gentleman 
was  enthusiastic  J  and  the  stories  he 
had  to  tell  about  the  vast  masses  of 
silver  he  had  seen,  could  only  be  com- 
pared to  what  Dumas  wrote  concern- 
ing the  fabled  cave  of  Monte  Christo. 
After  listening  to  all  his  observations, 
my  friend  ventured  to  remark,  **  You 
propose  to  pass  several  weeks  in  Bos- 
ton. You  also  propose,  I  presume,  to 
pass  your  time  as  pleasantly  as  poe- 
sible.  Nowj  let  me  give  you  a  little 
advice.  If  you  do  not  wish  to  make 
almost  every  other  man  you  meet 
*sick/  don't  say  to  him  any  thing 
abont  a  mine."  The  remark  was  pecu- 
liarly appropriate ;  for  very  few  peo- 
ple, save  the  interested  parties,  have 
any  idea  of  the  vast  amount  of  Bos- 
ton capital  that  has  been  squandered 
during  the  past  ten  years  in  disas- 
trous mining  Si!h ernes,  to  use  a  very 
mild  phrase.  And  yet,  as  a  rule*  the 
unfortunate  suierers  had  no  one  but 
themffelves  to  blame.  Mining  shares 
were  bought  more  with  reference  to 
their  market  value  than  their  intrin- 
sic wortlu  If  any  one  will  calmly 
look  back  upon  the  wild  era  of  specu- 
lation that  prevailed  during  the  latter 
days  of  our  war,  in  this  class  of  securi- 
ties, I  think  he  must  be  willing  to 
admit  that  he  lost  his  money  quite  as 
much  from  the  lack  of  ordinary  busi- 
ness prudence,  as  from  the  lack  of 
valuable  mineral  property.  At  all 
events,  aside  from  personal  experience, 
every  one  must  be  aware  that  there 
have  been  and  are  mines  that  yield 
their  owners  enormous  returns.     I  am 


withj 


going  to  give  a  short  di 
successful  mine,  a  rara  avis 
but  an  avis  undoubted,  notwitk 
ing.     And  at  the  outset,  I 
any  intention  of  indulging 
lative  theories ;  for  although 
story  to  many  may  appear  to 
too  suggestive  of  the  Arabian  1 
for   unqualified   belief,    still 
fact   wnll  be   stated   that 
readily  verified.      Moreover, 
to  be  understood  as  speakini 
past,  not  the   future ;  and,  i 
mentis  sake,  am  quite  willing 
that  one   year  from  now  tiu 
Islet  Mine  will  be  a  thing  of  i 
worthless  and  almost  forgottei 
any  such  untoward  result,  ui 
doctrine  of  chances,  is  to 
for,  is  very  improbable,  to 
least ;  yet,  in  view  of  the  great  l 
tainty  and   hazard  of  minings 
tainly  should  be  regarded  aa 
the  range  of  poasibility. 

Almost  every  one  inte: 
mining  matters  has  heard 
Montreal  Mining  Company, 
north  shore  of  Lake  Sup<vri 
company  owned  one  hundr 
eight  thousand  acres  of  1 
chased  from  time  to  time,  ai^ 
ing  been  carefully  selected 
petent  exploring  parties.  Ij 
in  these  various  purchases 
long  tract,  about  five  miles 
in  length,  and  two  miles  in  li 
situated  say  twenty  miles  nort 
from  the  eastern  end  of  Isle  Re 
and  five  miles  easterly  from  Thi 
Cape,  designated  and  know] 
"  Wood's  Location."  About  one 
from  the  main  shore  was  a  loi 
row  shoal,  or  reef,  called 


Silver  Islet  Mine. 


439 


the 


I  Oat 


W  amke,   eomposed  of   trap- 
Ttng  an  exposed  surface  of 
igUl  feet  ia  height  and  eighty 
gih.     On  thia  i^land^  aaid 
of  a  diorittf  djke,  ninDiog 
eaal  aod  west,  a    tiansTerse 
Ir  fitfure   Teia    of    great  power, 
aboat  twelire  degrees  we^t,  was 
A  few  tons  of  ore  were 
that  yielded  over  twenty 
dollars.      Notwithstanding 
di^corery,    the    Montreal 
Company  determined  to  take 
of  aay   temporary  excit€- 
markety  and  dispose  of 
mineral  lands.     But  it  was 
find   a  purchaser  at  the 
two  huodred  and  twenty- 
dollars  in  goUL     The 
Certainly   had    forbidding 
Tlic    locality  was  remote, 
desolate*       And  even  sup* 
the     lode    realized   all 
iQiiscdi  it  was  by  no  means 
that  the  purchasers  might 
dial  they   were  not   such  wise 
I  ifter  alL     The  vein  crossed  the 
lltkiee  fiset  ander  water,  and  upon 
on  giofinds  no  one  could  be  sure 
worics   oould   be  constructed  of 
isic  atrength  to  protect  the  mine 
ibe   lake,  its  fields  of  floating 
ma'  without,  and  leakages  from 
in.     However,  a  little  over  one 
ago  the  whole  property  passed 
th>B  poseesfiion  of  a  party  of  gen* 
in  the    United  States,   who 
tSmimly  commenced  active  opera- 
low  pfOisecuting  the  enterprise. 
m  fiimiUar  with  mining  matters 
Bo  fold   that   there  was  a  vast 
ait  of  work  to  be  done.  Moreover, 
particular  instance  it  was  all- 
rtanC    to    posh    forward    opera- 
with  the  utmost  energy.     The 
I  wnm  far  advanced,  the  time  of 
i  at  band,  and  winter  approach- 
On  the  fiiat  day  of  September^ 


1870,  the  terms  of  the  purchase  were 
settled,  and  the  necessary  papers 
signed.  On  the  2d  or  3d  of  Septezx^ 
her,  Capt  Wm,  B.  Frue  sailed  &om 
Marquette,  taking  with  him  some 
sixty  miners,  their  subsistencei  to- 
gether with  a  multitude  of  articles 
unnecessary  to  detail,  but  of  real  or 
possible  necessity.  As  soon  as  the 
mining  party  reached  their  destina- 
tion, a  few  hastily  and  roughly  con- 
structed buildings  were  erected  upon 
the  main  shore.  Then  several  men 
were  detailed  to  explore  the  immediate 
vicinity,  in  order  to  find  out  whether 
any  discoveries  could  be  made  of 
sufficient  importance  to  justify  the 
confidently  entertained  belief  that 
the  silver  ore  clearly  in  view  at  the 
Islet  was  an, outcrop  of  a  vein,  sup- 
posed to  extend,  at  a  varying  depth, 
for  a  long  distance  below  the  bed  of 
the  lake,  or  whether,  on  the  coDtrary, 
it  was  simply  a  deposit  of  silver, 
more  commonly  called  a  "pocket." 
Intermediate  between  Silver  Islet  and 
the  main  shore  was  a  small  tract  of 
land  called  Burnt  Island.  There  a 
large  vein,  having  the  same  north- 
westerly directioQ,  and  containing 
leadt  mmidic,  and  <)ther  minerals,  but 
not  much  silver,  was  found.  On  the 
shore,  two  shafts  were  sunk,  and  such 
slight  examination  as  the  pressure  of 
other  work  would  admit  of  gave  most 
flattering  indicatioDs  of  the  cootinu- 
ous  value  of  the  vein.  Meanwhile 
the  preliminary  examination  of  the 
vein  at  the  Islet  was  of  such  promise, 
that  it  was  soon  decided  to  commence 
mining  operations  in  a  legitimate 
and  regular  way,  always  a  hazardous 
and  expensive  undertaking,  but  in 
this  case  particularly  hazardous  and 
expensive,  as,  before  a  shaft  could  be 
sunk,  it  was  necessary  to  encircle  the 
rock  with  a  water-tight  enclosure,  or 
co£fer-dam.      Although     fuUy    three 


440 


Silver  Islet  AFme. 


hundred  feet  of  the  whit©  spar, 
seamed  with  native  silver,  could  be 
distinctly  seen^  yet  for  prudential 
i?easoD3  the  cofFer-djira  was  made  to 
embrace  but  seventy  feet  of  the  vein. 
The  enclosure  that  was  constructed 
was  not  of  a  very  durable  charac- 
ter; Capt  Frue  prudently  preferring 
more  fully  to  satisfy  himself  of.  the 
nature  and  extent  of  the  lode,  before 
spending  a  large  amount  of  money 
on  something  that  might  prove  to  be 
perfectly   useless.       Slight    as    were 

U.  S.  Mint,  Phu-adcx^ou, 
Result  of  assay  of  five  uamplea  ailver  ore  from  Silver  Islet,  Lake  Superior. 
Ko*  1.  A.     Metallic  Lead,  22^  per  cent. 
Siivert  per  ton,  in  gold  valoe, 
No*  2.  B.    Lead,  2^  percent 

Silver,  per  ton,  in  gold  valae^ 
No.  3.  D.     Lead,  18  piT  cent. 

Silver,  per  ton,  io  gold  value, 
No.  4.  DD.  (From  bottom  of  pit)  Lead,  27  per  cent. 

Silver,  per  Ion,  in  gold  value, 
Na  6.  C.    (From  south  end  of  pit)  Lead,  14^  per  cent. 
Silver,  per  ton,  in  gold  value, 

Signed,  J, 


these  preparatioDSt  mmiDg  < 
proper  were  uecessarilysabordiB 
thein  J  henco  the  quantity  of  ore  tl 
was  mined  during  the  first  fevi 
and  sent  to  Kew  York  to  be  i 
did  not  surprise  any  one. 
the  amount  might  have  been  i 
looked  for.  Its  surpassbg  ni 
however,  astounded  even  the 
sanguine  as  they  were.  J,  B»  1 
feldt,  of  the  United  Stat^  Mint,  tii 
the  followi:ng  report :  — 


$4^S3.< 


S1L28^.00 

$8,406.00 

$11,197.00 

$17,257.00 

Am 


Of  course  these  sanit)lea  were  care- 
fully selected  j  and  I  do  not  intend  to 
convey  the  idea  that  the  actual  reduc- 
tion of  the  average  ore  by  smelting 
produced  equal  results.  # 

On  the  twenty-sixth  day  of  Novem- 
ber, when  navigation  closed,  and  the 
last  shipment  of  ore  was  made,  the 
shaft  was  reported  to  be  eighteen  feet 
deep,  and  the  vein,  as  worked,  eight  feet 
wide,  with  perpendicular  and  well-de- 
fined walls,  and  a  matrix  of  cak,  spar, 
and  silver  ore  commingled.     Up   to 


this  time  the  product  of  the  i 
was  seventy  odd  tons,  which  was 
warded  in  barrels  to  the  siae 
and  refining  works  of  Ed  wait! 
bach,  Newark,  N.J.  Mr.  Th< 
MacfarKine,  assayer  and  metallu] 
in  making  a  report  to  C.  A.  1 
bridge,  Secretary,  said,  *^  After  tW 
was  crushed,  and  sampled  in  k 
made  careful  assays  of  the  Jiff< 
samples,  and  the  results  were  « 
lows^  VMS. :  — 


Lot  No.  1,  61  bbls.,  weighing  17^^  tons,  934  f^  per  too,  gold  value. 

"         2. 62  **  **  ^H^  toiiB»  not  >*et  crushed, 

a.  34  **  **  8if^J  tons,  1.189  ^^^  per  too,  gold  value. 

4.  31  *•  "  ^%l%  tons,  1.266  ^       »' 

5.  85  "  **  gJJJi  tona,  L243  ^       *^ 
e.32-  "  S^Sl  tons.  1.635  ^A       ** 

7,  82  "  -  8iJf  J  tona^  L768  jVii       **  - 


£lfcer  Iskt  Mine, 


441 


Qm  abore-iBeolaofied  lots  kto  placed  in  U10  aider  aa  iMppeJ  fit»  tlie 
k  9  WBS  At  tl»  bottoK  ofibe  pPer  «Bil  ]»<  Dol  jct  besB  i«Bebed» 

TaOMAfl  MACFJtftX.AXK, 


liHle  was  beard  horn  the 
^during  the  next  few  moQtii^ 
ltUl«  was  heard  was  of  the 
keooauragiDg  nature.  Letters 
]  JmnvuLrjf  1871,  said,  "  From 
seveutj  thousand  dollars' 
[of  ore  10  store,  oot  lucluding 
inferior  qualitj  j  *'  "  north 
rich  J  "  **  buudies  of  ore 
|er,  and  mare  metallic  silver;^' 
lisi  ftb<»wB  as  good  as  ever/ ^  Early 
iitt  fbUowing  spriog,  the  ice  that 
I  Ibnaed  during  the  winter  hegan 
K«mk  op ;  and,  to  the  consternation 
liie  aup^rintendent  and  resident 
«ty  tite  cofier-dam  with  all  its  out- 
►_43ib*«rork  was  swept  away,  and 
!  flockded  with  water.  As  has 
been  fsid,  the  works  con- 
,  during  the  previous  autumn 
.  oC  m  Tery  durable  character, 
itot  expected  that  they 
last  for  any  great  length  of 
fei  their  complete  and  sud- 
i^tion  was  not  anticipated, 
the  managers  of  the  en- 
Foctnnately  all  the  valoa- 
-ws  safely  housed  upon 
and  more  fortunately  Btitl 
hte  was  lost*  The  rich- 
^cxt«Qt,  and  capacity  of  the  mine 
la^at  this  titoe,  in  the  opiuioo  of 
ft  Frtir^,  sai&cieatly  demaDctrated^ 
p  at  II  great  espense^  to  con- 
\  at  oiK#  a  new  coAeiHiaai  i  and 
i  tbe  senricei  of  a  eooipat«iit 
DgaiMrr,  under  vbooa  aii|iena- 
the  worksy  as  tbey  sland 
haT9  heen  bailt  It  leeat  to 
mnjr  one  who  has  seen  llic 
iUucUire^  eoctosiiig  aa  ti  does 


htk 


ablj  sure  ttiar  it  will  stand  against  any 
hufifetings  of  the  waves  or  ioe.  It  is 
surrounded  by  a  broad,  massive  break- 
water of  timber  eri^warky  filled  with 
stone,  enclosed  by  a  coveriDg  of  tim- 
ber ;  the  cribs  on  the  outjiide  being 
sixty-four  feet  wide  an<l  eight  feet 
high.  The  shaft,  whirh  is  very  large 
and  very  stroDg,  and  which  rises  some 
ten  feet  above  the  surface  of  the  rock, 
is  made  of  the  most  substantial  and 
solid  timbefj  and  is  protectee!  on  the 
outride  hj  grouting  in  cement* 

Tho  work  of  mining  up  to  the 
early  part  of  the  summer  of  1871  had 
been  confined  to  the  Islet,  whore  a 
space  seventy  feet  long  liiul  forty  feet 
deep  bad  been  worked  ont^  prmlucing 
nearly  six  hundred  thousand  dollan. 
Further  exxilorations  had  been  mtule 
upon  the  shore,  but  at  the  clrpth  of 
thirty  feet  no  valuable  ore  was  found. 
One  thing,  however,  was  oonelusirely 
demonstrated,  viz.,  that,  although  Uio 
vein  on  tbe  shore  was  oot  as  rich  as 
that  at  the  Islet,  it  was  still  part  of  the 
same  vein;  aud,  in  the  upiniou  of 
prominent  geologists,  it  is  conlldimtly 
expected,  that,  ai  iooo  as  tho  varioui 
shafts  already  eooilDeiiced  have  hwni 
sunk  sufficiently  deep,  another  rich 
"chimney"  will  bo  four*ri  Notli- 
log  baa  been  hoaid  frciin  the  niiiiir 
since  Ibe  end  of  Nof ember,  t^7L  In 
aa  dfieial  kitsr  dat^l  New  Yurk, 
De«.13»  1S71,  is  Uis  f  *' r 

left  the   ntins  about  (li  <   tff 

Xotmoibtf^  and  il  was  Uiait  lookiiig  a* 
weB  aa  I  erer  aaw  It     Tlis  shaft  wm« 
dowtt  ttbMtj  fMty  and  vsr//  rith  tn  iUm 
battmoL  Iloefco«tifeai/r 
flMroTlbaMiMcldtfkf 


442 


Silver  Islet  Mine. 


one  hundred  and  fifty  feet  in  length, 
which   I    have   here^  and  which   are 

fully  as  rich  in  silver  as  any  average 
that  was  made  during  the  summer." 

And  now,  it  may  be  asked,  what  haa 
been  the  result  of  the  year's  work  ? 
Suppose  that  A  or  B  had  invested 
five  thousand  dollars  la  thi:^  enter- 
prise :  what  would  he  his  financial 
condition  to-day  ?  To  any  such  ques- 
tion it  may  be  replied,  that  the  expen- 
ditures and  outlays  have  thus  far 
been  so  varied  in  character,  and  so 
forced  by  the  peculiarities  of  the  en- 
terprise, that  it  is  impracticable  to 
designate  such  as  are  properly  charge- 
able to  the  pit>duction  of  ore ;  what- 
ever such  cost  may  have  been  it  will 
undoubtedly  be  relatively  less  in  the 
future.  It  may  he  said»  however,  that 
the  original  owners  bought  their  re- 
spective interests  subject  to  several 
possible  and  indeed  probable  assess- 
ments; for  while  two  hundred  and 
twenty-five  thousand  dollars  in  gold 
was  the  price  of  the  property,  only  fifty 
thousand  dollars  was  in  cash,  the  terras 
of  the  purchase  stipulating  that  the 
balance  was  to  be  paid,  with  interest, 
during  the  following  3* ear.  Without 
calling  for  any  assessments,  the  whole 
of  the  purchase-money  has  been  paid* 
Kearly  two  hundred  and  fifty  thou- 
sand dollars  have  been  spent  in  per- 
manent improvements,  the  mine  lib- 
erally opened  j  yet  the  board  of  trus- 
tees (for  the  property  is  still  held 
under  a  trust  agreement)  have  been 
able  to  divide  over  two  hundred  per 
cent,  and  next  month  will  probably 
be  able  to  declare  a  dividend  of  an 
equal  amount.  In  view  of  these  facts, 
does  it  seem  m  very  strange  that  the 
shares,  or  parts  as  they  are  called, 
which  a  little  over  one  year  ago  could 
have  been  bought  for  fifty  dollars  each, 
should  have  recently  been  sold  as  high 
as  twenty-five  hundred  dollars  ? 


Such  ia  a  brief  aud  very  m 
descriptioQ  of  the  property  koo^ 
"  Wood's  Location,'*  or  "  Silver  ] 
It   is  very  difficult   to  make  nnf 
realize  what  has    been  done  m  { 
region  during  the  past  eixteen  1 
People  listen  patiently,  perhaps  \ 
some  interest,  to  what   you   h&lj 
saV;  and  then,  remembering  thei] 
^credulity  when  they  dreamed  of  J 
sessing  a  mine,  that,  according  1 
prospectus  at   least,  was  to 
untold  wealth  of  gold  or  silver  t 
troleum,  complacently  smile,  aadl 
a  sort   of  gloomy  satis^ction  in 
thought,  that,  after  all,  the 
still  the  same  old  world,  and  tha 
the  fools  that  dwell  therein  are] 
yet  dead. 

Still,    unless     the     sign^ 
tlines  are   utterly  to   be  disbelid 
the  north  shore  of   Lake  Sup«r 
likely  soon  to    be  the  scene  of-j 
speculation.       Sixteen    months 
Wood's  Location    was    a   wild 
almost  inaccessible  district,  as  < 
and  lonely  as   the  most  devoti 
cluse    of   olden    times     could 
dreamed  or  prayed  for.     Not  ft  J 
tige  of  a  human  being,  save 
casional  Indian  or  an  escploring  | 
could  be  seen.     Now,  as  if  by  1 
the   whole  scene    has   changed.] 
busy  town  baa  sprung  up, 
post-office,  its  church,  and  its 
fortable  though  roughly  const 
dwelling-houses.      And    when 
considered  that    this     great 
was  caused  by  the  discovery  of 
on  a  desolate  rock,  one  might  1 
believe  that  chaos  had  come 
This  is  said  to   be   a    prosaic 
yet  the    magnificent  visions  of| 
Eastern     romances    bid    fair 
equalled  by  the  realities  of  Silver  1 
Trite,  but  oftentimes  singularly  1 
rate,  is  the  old  saying,  that  **  1 
stranger  than  fi^otioiL*' 


Two  Ckaraden.  US 


TWO  CHARACTKBg. 


And  itdke  npm  s  fasauetr'B  tvof^ 
Swwiffiiag  dfeiT^  VEDD,  t±D  •cmte,  ikktiil^ 
To  Ike  A43MrHU  j^fiep  as  i^zren : 

And  «» t»  :^  Facofic  sfflh. 
So  1»  s  &r  JOkd  AEimi  dj^ 
TvD  fbdEBntB  £nim  mie  andk;  H^^ 

1. 

WemBBtliim;  in  lik  fioifiial  liMk 
We  flee  -aoifl  &dl  b  -joscw  max  xMe; 

Jlaifl -evmi  in  bkdBHC  douofe.  ill:  «»» 

Jj^-timifr -^t  «izii&0ir«r-i^  iht  ipiiL. 
•Our  «iim:  in  hit  «iDi«t  ^ccuoittc. 
Aaid  iiimiBDr  jntmuL  r  al.  te-  mwjt 
IKliidi  iieifi  m  motvf^  tu  Urn  mil. 

Oar  i»tS8T  m^]  eeitiir  &  iwag. 
^nr-^nmnE^nitnT-  tsum-  Mm-  tfedMr 

^^liisliiiMigk:  nod.'  i-  ( 

lauWinm-  s.  J^^cLl  air  jiit  x    m 
^Ekr—wr  mcmikmB'  ^ionmtmm. 


.m»%4$i^       U^^ 


444 


Two  Characters. 

His  owl-like  wish  proclaims  tbe  nigbt. 
Even  where  the  Imperial  splendor  gtniles. 
His  look  the  innocent  joy  defiles, 
Which  hlackend  in  untimely  blight* 

He  sees  this  world  a  whistling  ball, 
Sent  spinning  on  through  cheerless  space ; 
An<l  life  to  man,  an  empty  chase 
For  doubtful  good,  if  good  at  all. 

His  supine  spirit  shames  the  brutes, 
Who  circle  grateful  through  their  days. 
Hia  eye  on  mirth  can  look  disgrace, 
And  make  the  evil  it  imputes. 

There  sits  au  ever  mocking  sprite, 
Wliose  swiftest  comment  is  dispraise  j 
Who  by  a  glance  the  heart  betrays, 
And  sullies  with  a  stain  the  light. 

He  dwarfs  this  fair  romantic  earth 
To  a  shop-counter,  where  the  shares  ^ 

Encbaatiiient  offers  lose  their  worth, 
And  spleen  sees  always  gaining  hers- 

How  through  his  talk  the  fluffy  air 
Thitkens,  where  spindles  ring  in  rows ; 
The  belted  wheel,  which  near  liim  glows, 
Is  scarce  of  vital  warmth  more  bare. 

Wo  hear  the  hum  of  swarming  towns ; 
Grasli  through  their  streets  the  iron  trains  I 
Wliat  matter  !  wood  or  metal  gains 
If  he  his  youthful  dreams  renounce. 


God  lielp  them  both  !     Impartial  Love 
Shall  couch  the  Llindnessi  nor  condemn 
The  faulty  eye ;  for  both  of  them 
One  perfect  sight  in  realms  above. 


T.Q. 


£Sx  ofOmhfBafm 


HALT 


GHAFTBK  TtlfT 


Jane's  ftist  yntaH  vitk 
niter  in 

MSB   ^"canu     Since  toeB  oe 
m  jesr  in  St.  Lows; 
pdbi^  wife 
Tlusva 

d  Iser  fonsttnre 

For  lli#  Qcgais] 
iSostm  people* 

fafpOf  it  -mm  m  krge  henm^tx 
m  tmt  timm^  wKich  tht  whmk 
mm  Umilj  neepti  from 
m^V     Aontsy  uQcleSi 

sist«r»-ixi-law,  lad   tnoAeis 

It  tlieir  gnmA   oentnl 

It  nu^ht  bt  aJkd  ilie 

lliglnr»]r-    Tli«re  were  walls 

i;  but  thej  flmt  m,  and 

Ked  Bardies  s1>o«red  a 
litj  ibr  bis  own  familj, 
80  many  of  them  ! 
0d}j  Jane  and  her  annt  on  the 
side.  It  was  Ned  who  had 
tliat  Jane  shotild  come  and 
I  winter  with  them.  Sophy 
itned  that  she  would  bring 
sifter,  Christinet  into 
if  tb>t  very  winter,  and  she  was 
I  ariiii  fliem  for  the  grand  object 
Bg  ooi  Ned  had  said  that 
link  it  was  fair  to  hare 
that  ttme,  unless  Sophy 
ag  a  Tmt  from  her  sist^^r. 
they  should  both  be 


DSt  OS  ajMjw  lodge,  to  In 
•nl,kd  Ja 


WKfi 


Sargesi  ^mpcgftf  baa 
between  the  two 
ior  Ibe  fint  tine  begam  to  j 
tbia  when  siie  caoM  to  fltaj  widi  hef 
btodiei4n4>w.  Sbo  bad  beim  Ml 
the  eomfiHtable  eoQadomDesa  of  ovn- 
ing  piropeity, — of  Aofcmljiattpoo, 
that  oould  always  be  a  roof  for  her 
old  age ;  bat  the  actirity  of  tlie  Bar- 
dies e^tablii^hment  suddenly  showed 
her  the  outside  charm  of  money,  its 
pleasant  chink,  and  the  delight  of 
cbancring  the  coin  for  some  eoniTa- 
lent.  Jane  did  not  get  away  fiom 
Greyford  till  the  winter  T;i-as  half  over, 
when  an  old  widow  friend  of  her 
aunt*9  had  turned  up  to  stay  some 
months,  with  her  two  daught^rs^  and 
there  was  no  special  reason  why  Jane 
should  be  nef'ded  there. 

Jane    Burgess   was   one   of    thooo 


446        Six  of  One  6y  Salf  a  Dozen  of  the  Other. 


receptive  beicgs  in  whom  everybody 
conBdea.  She  was  never  ft  confidant^ 
becaofle  she  was  never  in  the  habit  of 
telling  her  own  secrets  to  another;  but, 
if  such  a  viUanotts  word  could  be 
allowed,  she  was  a  feithful  confides 
She  could  not  sit  in  a  tailxoad-etation 
two  minutes,  but  what  some  Irish 
mother  had  given  her  all  her  history. 
Indeed,  she  knew  the  hearths  romance 
of  that  stoical  creature  who  keeps  the 
^adies'  room  of  the  station.  It  was 
also  aaserted  tliat  a  horse-ear  conduc- 
tor had  one  day  sat  down  by  her  side, 
to  tell  her  about  his  wife*s  breaking 
her  leg*  She  knew  the  sorrows  and 
jojrs  of  everybody  in  Greyford.  There- 
fore she  had  not  been  in  her  sister's 
house  more  than  a  week,  before  she 
had  been  consulted  by  every  member  of 
the  family,  about  some  little  intricacy. 
This  was  fortuoate  for  Jane,  because 
the  first  morning  after  her  arrival, 
when  they  were  fairly  through  break- 
fast, and  she  stood  for  a  few  moments 
at  the  bow-window,  looking  down  the 
broad  street,  she  suddenly  felt  all  the 
loneliness  of  a  new  place.  A  bit  of 
home-sickness  came  over  her  for  dear 
old  Greyford,  where  she  had  her  set 
of  friends  who  really  needed  her, 
"Nobody  wants  me  here,"  she  said 
to  lierself. 

Sophy,  to  be  sure,  was  liiU  of  occu- 
pation, not  merely  with  her  six  chil- 
dren in  the  nursery,  and  the  six 
servants  who  were  to  oversee  themi 
but  with  the  successive  demands  of 
each  day :  there  was  evidently  plenty 
to  do.  At  the  breakfiast-table  the 
plans  for  the  day  had  been  talked 
over ;  and  the  question  was,  which  of 
all  the  proposed  things  could  be  done, 
and  how  every  thing  could  be  got 
into  one  short  day,  Sophy  had  left 
the  table,  saying,  "  Well,  it's  no  use 
planning;  somebody  will  be  in  and 
diaage  it  all.    There's  only  one  thing 


certain,  we  sha'nH  do  wbat  we ! 
settled  to  do.'' 

Now,  this  was  just  what  Jsail 
So  she  said  to  herself  as  she  i 
the  window.     She   had  been  ts| 
habit  of  leading  a  well-orted  ] 
She  had  her  Monday  duties,  i 
as   her  Sunday  ones;  and 
down    Saturday   evenings  wtttj 
work-basket  well  cleared  oat,  i 
feeling  that  the  week  and  itst 
had  been  smootlied  off  eifso. 
was  she  going  to  do  in  this 
chaos,  where  there   was  no 
orbit  marked  out    for    heiscH] 
what  was  worse,  those  thathsdi 
amused  themselves  by  da^hingl 
those  of  other  people  ?     It  tn 
we  have  seen,  in  her  beoon 
confessor  of  all.     Her  reverie  < 
first   morning   bad  been  br 
Christine's  exclamation*  — 

"  Now,  Miss  Burgess,  do  gi* 
your  opinion  !    Shall  it  be 
blue?   they  are  equaDyl 
me/* 

Before  the  end  of  the  week 
tine   was  calling    her   **Jea 
shortening  of  hername,  and  an « 
ment,  that  nobody  had  ever  reH 
on  before. 

Sophy  had  confided  to  her 
hoped   Christine  would  many  ( 
tain  Mr.  Archer,  a  second  oou 
the  Bardies  family,  whom  she  1 
eveiy  thing  of;  aud  she  bopedJ 
would  do  all  she  oould  to  assist  1 

Ned  had  introduced  another  ] 
man  to  Jane  with  especial  pomj 
ceremony,  afterwards    expla 
her  that  his  prospects  were  ads 
and  his  family  of  the  best,  wbc 
had  settled,  would  just  do  for 
tine. 

Meanwhile  Christine  had 
to  Jane  her  own  little  passion^  - 
another  "  party.^' 

Each  of  Mr.  Bardlea's 


4tS 


}  rnxmed  liiiKthgi^  Izrz&g  mmt  «b    m  ] 

m^y  ^li^  thiif  «■»  1 
^m  Icnflw  vlueb 


^  ber.      Their 
ud 


ne 


H  iKiy,  iadaed,  iid  look 
y  «t  thaes  lo  »e  if  J  mam 
I  flf  sitting  ^  hmkf  and  would 
ft  Aadt  hm  wsi  iKit  kM^Biig  ber 

bad,  ^  £»^  w&ated  to  g«t 

!  of  Jmiie't  life ;  hf  ibe 

Texy   miidi  wbetber 

^brakoHbaited  (Kow 

diat  wofild 

» ! )  at  tbe  ooodact  of 

SIm   bad  bcaid 


^M  paiior  doonri^^  to  Ud 
joa  good-l>T,  or  if  abe  vtvi  IrifcinBi^ 
at  Mrs.  Wocboitt^t  feii  lo  pal  « 
that   bd/fl  «Aictici^**  to  fo  to  n 


Boi  J^e  waa  alvi^  coa^moilp 
eqaad  to  U»e  occawNH  and  had  iba 
gnud  fand  of  faaertv  oa  liaod  tbat 
■IwajB  19  napifiwiytj* 

There  was  ovm  penoo  who  Iftid  a 
spedal  daim  to  JmMTB  tjmpathj, 
and  h  was  acknowledged  hjr  all  tba 
Bardies  &aulj.  TkU 
HioBdale,  He  had 
tliere  kbdl j,  asid  aoon  baeaaa  oao  of 
the  many  expected  gaeeli  f^ 


ho  waa   allowed  to  drop  in  at  an  j  tiiae.  Thou  J 
Hartfod,  and    waa  a  aaat  for  him  at  tba 
r  had  any  kttcfBftoiB  there,    tables  plaaa  forhuaforibo 


448         Six  of  One  by  Half  a  Dozen  of  the  Other. 


^ 


concert,  theatre,  or  party,  wlmtever  it 
migbt  be. 

Of  course,  Mark  also  liad  to  con- 
sult and  confide  with  Jane,  Every 
new  plan  whicb  took  form»  as  he  sat 
in  the  library  waiting  of  a  rainy 
day  for  anybody  to  come  and  ask  for 
a  **  BennoTi-bookj"  or  for  "another 
book/'  would  be  dashed  down  on  pa- 
per, to  be  sent  to  her*  With  his 
vivid  imagination,  these  plans  in- 
stantly assumed  their  full  |iroportions; 
and,  as  he  wrote,  the  detail  wrought 
itsidf  out,  even  to  refinement.  Tbis* 
would  all  be  posted  to  Jane,  and  tbe 
next  time  Mark  called  he  would  ex- 
pect lier  judgment  on  the  whole.  It 
was  sometimes  a  play,  sometimes  a 
novel  y  always  it  was  to  be  very  suc- 
cessful when  it  had  found  a  publisher, 
and  always  Jane  was  expected,  from 
Imving  read  tbo  brief,  to  retain  a 
complete  knowledge  of  each  charac- 
ter, and  of  all  tbe  names.  Here, 
for  instance,  is  the  plan  of  **  Bertie 
Gwynne." 

LmnART,  Monday  Morning. 

Dear  Jane, — ^Iliive  luid  a  mofi  in- 
tertsting  talk  with  an  army  officer,  who 
has  been  for  three  years  .^urvejing  on  the 
Plains.  He  Ims  shot  bufialo,  and,  I  dare 
aay,  scalped  Indians,  and  knows  every 
thing.  lie  knowa  alt  our  eastern  wilder- 
ofss  just  as  wulL  '\\^at  he  says  conGrms 
my  pi  a  n  fo  r  B  K  a  T I E  G  w  Y  XN  e.  Jus  t  look 
at  this  table  of  contents. 

Tlic  di*tail  of  the  book  is  po  extensive, 
that  I  cannot  give  you  the  plot,  but  you 
can  reatl  this, 

Bertie  Gwynkk. 
Bock  1.  On  Board  the  Seringa. 

1,  Wniting. 

2,  The  CaptJiio's  Story. 

3,  Ended  and  Begun. 

4,  Mfiraelita. 

5,  In  the  Mexican  Inn. 

6,  Ciiptnin  IlfUhnwayin  Command. 

7,  The  Wreck  of  the  Seringa. 


Baok  3*  South-west  akd  Nod 

1.  In  the  Indian  Coimtry. 

2,  Tlic  Old  Patriartrh. 

3.  Escape. 

4,  Norah  BurkeV  Stiitar. 
6.  The  Signing  of  tbe  Docd» 

6.  Father  and  Son, 

7,  Charley  Phinney's  DepsrCl 


Book  3.  Littlk  CArr. 

1.  History  of  tbe  Bucktff  F- 

2.  Little  Captain's  Kducati 

3.  Fdcn  in  New  Eoglacih 

4.  Tlie  Mail  comes  in^ 


5.  The  Mail  goes  out. 

Book  4,  SiLVER^pcim! 

1.  The  Phinney  Corporationn 

2.  Conchita  and  Paochita. 

3.  An  Unexpected  Arriral. 

4.  Tlie  Ball  and  its  He$ult«. 

5.  Silverspurs  to  the  Retciict 

6.  Throug^h  the  Desert, 

7.  The  Waterspout, 

8.  The  Story  of  Silverspur*. 

9.  News  from  Home. 

Book  5.  HiSEX  FRQlf  TBI  1 

1.  The  New  Home. 

2.  In  tlie  Old  Chunrhyard. 

3.  Best. 

I  thmk  that  if  I  am  ever  I 
thing  good,  it  will  be  in  this  eta 
will  attempt  to  trace  the  growth 
With  only  Nature  to  comu  in 
It;  which  will  l>e  full  of  the  tlA 
venture  of  sea  and  land,  of  Nor 
tic  and  South  PuciEc  5hore9;  ^ 
be  exciting^  yet  in  no  way^ofTeQi 
sutionah 

This  is  the  story  I  told  yoa 
thentre,  —  a  story  which  yott 
certainly  not  immoral,  though 
not  bo  moraL     It  has  gro! 
completion,  and  unfolded 
like  a  moral,  —  a  relation 
sacrifice. 

In  just  tbe  sami:    freedo 
woiild  have  his  budget  of 
bring  to  Jaiie.     Over  and 
he    talked    with    \mt   about | 
Holley. 


ifOmiy 


mud  lUik  W«*  gBH^  to 

it    botxxisii^    Mp^ 

fouad 

r||]#   Bmidles  Isxnrf  aiUwt 

ogh  lie  ottl  RAdwl  htA 

into  joit  sodb  »  k«ae. 

an  ttJi|jinctiea]  beiiigi  he 

1   lite  huttkM  in  Ilk   Itfie. 

r  BacHel  WBS  «n  the^  bed 

kim  oBt  of  liie  theaiaf 

he  ml  in  e  cootlbtUJble 

beek  puiofv  ke 

deligbtfal  tt  wmlA  W 

with  Rechel  in  »  KoiBe  eC 

imtscli    like    thisy  oolj  be 

the  beck   parlor  tnta   e 

—  and  —  it   waj   reiy 

eJt|iUkUi  it  all  to  the  Ue- 

led  Rachel,  and  grad- 
lit  Mark  to  acknewledge 
ihe  waa  right  in  not 
m  hurzj  to  be  murried. 
mtdBf  be  oune  to  be  glad 
icbel  was  in  Ketr  York,  on 
i  eoconjit ;  far  the  poor  fellow 
I  tadly  ent  up  at  Nettie's 
Bl  of  him*  Indeed,  Mark  in 
time  began  to  be  consoled, 
etir  mod  bttstle  of  the  Bardies 
him,  and  woke  him 
hi&  drommy  life.  He  brought 
Uie  new  books :  these  they 
pk  ai,  if  they  had  not  time 
d  il  ini«  v^y  coDveuvent 


V*»  Otter. 


449 


mui^AM 

MBtocww  m  wd  telk 

m  fitde   Fn 

BK^    wU     IL     FilMd. 

Ammk  XeDi, 
ivmtitHe  1 

^  ef  oeme^  ^wmjs  bap- 
It  m  tk^  «««  looking 
|nt«  mad  alwmji  it  was 
ofldk  to  bee  wbal  wto 

•Ofc.mR 

mmA  kam !  I  hate  the 

Ficsdv^  W99    tbe    legidar  answer, 
wbicb  it  waa  bo|i«d  IL  Fiaatid  would 

in  io  Imd  a 

mdf  tbeii^  it  waa^iren 
mee  be  could  not  but 

beu. 

Jnal  in  tbe  bei^l  of  the  nuUe, 
the  SIX  ebildmi  wenU  omne  down,  on 
their  way  out  fm  their  noon  walk; 
and  the  stainray  opeoing  between 
the  roomsy  it  gare  an  admirable 
chance  to  atop  them,  and  have  a 
gfeai  time  with  them.  Betty's  new 
suit  had  to  be  admired,  and  Johnny's 
leggings,  and  Carrs  new  hobby-horse, 
that  his  father  brought  from  New 
York  ;  and  they  each  had  a  fa?orite 
aunt,  who  pounced  upon  her  especial 
pet ;  and  all  the  children  had  to  learn 
to  say  "Bon  jour"  to  M.  Pinaud. 
The  little  infantry  procession  swept 
ojf ;  at  last,  some  of  the  aunts  with  it. 
But,  by  this  time,  there  was  lun- 
clieon,  and  everybody  had  to  go  down 
to  that;  and  afterwards  came  calters, 
or  call*  to  be  made  till  dinner,  and 
in  the  erening  a  rush  always.    When 


450 


Six  of  One  hy  Half  a  Dozen  of  the  Other. 


there  was  no  Frencli  lesson,  there  was 

shopping.  For  afternoons^  again, 
tliere  were  the  matinees^  afternoon 
concerts,  or  drivea 

Yet  in  such  a  rush,  the  moments 
stolen  for  confidence  are  only  the 
more  sweet,  If  one  haa  the  whole 
day  for  conversation,  it  getfi  a  little 
diluted  and  weak*  Buty  if  jou  must 
concentrate  al]  you  want  to  say  into 
the  favored  moment,  you  naturally 
make  it  concise,  and  to  the  point. 
That  is,  a  long  cultivation  teaches 
you  to  do  so.  Often,  after  all,  you 
bring  out  only  the  most  unnecessary 
and  vapid  part  of  what  you  have  to 
say,  just  as  so  many  people  take  up 
half  their  letters  in  explaining  how 
they  have  not  written  before,  a  fact 
already  painfully  evident. 

**  Jeanie,  you  must  sit  hy  me  to- 
night at  tire  play,**  Christine  would 
whisper  to  Jane.  *'  I  have  got  such  a 
story  to  tell  you!"  And  the  moment 
of  coiffidence  had  to  bo  fought  for ;  it 
never  came  of  itself 

One  dnyy  when  noon  at  the  Bardies 
house  was  especially  uproarious,  Mark 
came  to  Jane's  side  to  try  to  say 
something  to  her.  The  children  were 
all  on  their  way  oat  for  their  walk. 
Johnny  was  shrieking  with  delight 
on  the  back  of  the  bachelor  uncle, 
w*ho  was  trotting  him  up  and  down 
the  length  of  the  two  i*ooms»  Sophy 
was  telling  the  price  of  the  feather 
in  Hetty's  hat  to  two  of  her  sisters- 
in-law,  on  the  opposite  side  of  the 
room,  to  whom  she  had  to  scream 
out  the  valuable  informution.  Aunt 
Maria  was  explaining  to  the  com- 
pany in  general  her  views  upon  the 
French  war.  She  thought  the  Com- 
munists had  better  have  been  left  to 
kill  each  other,  and  then,  when  there 
was  not  a  Frenchman  to  be  seen,  the 
EngHiih  could  take  Paris  ;  which  she 
Y-'ondered  they  didn't  do,  after  Waterloo. 


M.    Pin  and    was   just 
leave,  and  Christini!*  was 
to  drown  her  Auot  ManV^ 
flood  uf  French ;  but  she  was  nfl 
ready  in  that  la? 
going  off  in  a   < 
which  she  could  say  easily.^ 
not  make  roach  difference 
said,  in  the  hubbub ;  and 
teacher  was  only  too  glad  t^\ 
without   crushing    Sallie*s 
that  lay  in  the  stairway. 

"  I  should  like  to  walk  wti 
the   opera,   Jane,   to-night 
something  to  tell  yon,"  was 
found  a  chance  to  say. 

CHAPTER  XV. 

When  evening  came, 
some  talk  of  Jane's  going  in  ' 
riage  with  old  Mrs.  Burdles : 
stoutly  resisted,  and  was 
set  oflT,  taking  Mark's  arm. 
one  of  Ned  Bardles's 
brothers,  hitched  on  to  themi 
of  the  way,  but  happily  foi 
conversation  dull,  and  they  i 
moments  to  each  other,  Ti 
motion  Mark  wanted  to  gi| 
was  something  he  had  le 
Jeffrey  Fleming,  That 
young  man  had  never  wTittenj 
any  thing  about  his  long  illn 
had  Nettie  written  to  tell] 
it,  Jane  had  heard  not  a  ' 
him  for  many  weeks.  Some 
told  Mark  that  Jeffrey  had  ^ 
gerously  ill,  and  Mark  di recti 
to  Hartford  to  inquire  aboul 
letter  came  from  Jeffrey  bin 
say  that  it  was  all  true^  but 
well  again,  and  now  ^'deadj 
with  Nettie,*'  as  he  expr 

tleffrey  had   always  beeaj 
young  fellow,  never  capahh*  < 
ing   to  one   thing  long, 
only  been  one  bit  of  steadfa 
him,  and  that   was  his  a0o( 


Six  of  One  hy  Half  a  Dozan  rf  *^?»>  O^her.         4-31 

There  haii  always  bet?ii  «?i}m«.»-        ^-t  ilai'.vr '-••-■:-••-  ":.Lir  xi.-i'-   .-    & 

.  hrr  ser'?E»?  atm«^sphi*rf.  *h;ir  a -.r-xir^    u:-  mrH::.^]-::'   "  -    ».l   •;.»• 

■•j;rh:  en:  all   his    dn<-r  'i'lJii:-  "raif'-i^    r    n":' r:     :     -ir     -v-.     .---^ 

•■•   ever.'^«>ily  th«.ii:;iir.     An-L  ir.-i   "v'^-z^  '..-.      r:.— t-*    -*  ^•.     ...  : 

•n-Mrrr»r«l  'jZi^t  ot  J  in»;*-s  -Ji^.i"-  ':>-    '17*4.71  '":*.!.-.  T-  ■  1..-    ::-  ..-    ■ 

T;i.-\T  •■:  l-'vin-j  «Jii-ii  .i  h:ir'i7.i-  -:'•-':■—.     r     :.-     ■;:-    -  :      ■;      -..-■.- 

a::i  brin:zin'Z  him    ::i*.j    r*?-  j.w-    ":..-    ..a.-:l-  i  *    t  •:.   ':.-     —'..'.. z 

v.Tii.i    Mark   imr-ar"  •  ■    Jan-  *h:r -.-i-r-    -  -   ■:...'.-:  T.'.r-.. 

:?  '\.i—.-z  *.-  ■-.-     ■  r-."r     ^   -..-     -.•—■.. 

-Tjne  wh  ■  li»-!r'»-<:  h!ci    ■  •:'.  •  •  -c  .-    :r.  :    4..  .   "    1   v  "1    —   .    r    .;.- 

La..l    a  r-:-';»r  •■:  i-'T'-.lij- •:•■'-  ■• -^■■:  ■:-  -  -■  -■—  .  .    -  -  -v--   .    --    .. 

^li-r  ha.i   r^-'Ttri--:    i    -~-r  -;--  tt-;.  -;.-  z.-     .     —      .   --•..   .-■. 

rx.  iLii  h- ^    Hii'!:   -i:-  "v  jj  —  1.-.:    - 'il-     -      .--    :      :^' '   .._• 


Ar..i   ■rr-a-: 


.  1  tT'rar  ._.: 


"r  ". 


a.-    w  *!.   3I-h_-i  -     — --     4-.. 
a.  r.::-    ■  :*   i".      ;--"**     -      ~- 


452        Six  of  One  by  ffalf  a  Dozen  of  the  Oilier, 


self  to  his  bufiinesa ;  and,  if  he  were 
writing  every  day  to  her,  it  would 
take  out  a  great  piece  of  bia  time. 
And  she  did  not  think  much  of 
now-and-then  letters,  when  one  has 
every  thing  to  tell,  and  tells  notLIng. 
Besides,  Jane  had  a  difficulty  133 
trusting  her  own  thoughts  even  to 
paper.  It  frightened  her,  the  very 
idea  of  seeing  her  own  heart  laid 
down  in  black  and  white  before  her 
eyes.  For  this  reason  Jane  had  al- 
ways written  very  cold,  unsatisfac- 
tory letters. 

And  now  on  the  st^ge  there  was 
the  scene  of  a  high  tower  at  one  side. 
Behind  it  was  the  tenor,  singing  with 
all  his  might  off  the  stage,  supposed 
to  be  in  the  uppermost  story  of  the 
tower* 

What  a  voice  he  had  1  How  rich, 
how  tender,  how  moving !  He  was 
reproaching  the  lady  of  his  love  for 
leaving  him^  for  deserting  him  to 
marry  another.  But  there  she  was 
below,  singing  with  all  her  voice,  out 
of  her  heart,  too,  trying  to  reach  way 
up  to  him  from  the  foot  of  the  tower, 
teUing  him  how  she  loved  him,  and 
how  ithe  wanted  to  come  to  him,  and  to 
save  his  life.  And  all  the  time  from 
the  distance  came  the  Miserere^  the 
chanting  of  some  quiet  nuns  singing 
in  this  heavenly  way  out  of  the 
peace  of  their  cellsj  and  sending  their 
harmony  into  the  discords  of  the 
wurld.  It  was  a  cliorua  with  many 
monotones,  however  :  what  &jmpathy 
did  it  have  with  two  hearts  storming 
and  hreaking  outside  ? 

Well,  ail  this,  to  Jane^  became  her 
own  drama^ 

And  have  we  not  all  of  us  acted  and 
lived  it  through  in  all  our  lives  ?  We 
call  the  plot  of  the  opera  absurd  and 
unnatural  and  ridiculoua.  Oh,  yes  I  so 
it  ail  is,  —  the  bridegroom  with  his 
white  satin  breeches,  loose  at  the  knee, 


aod  peaked  shoes;   the  stoat 
brawling  his  woes.     But  hav«w»| 
seen   the   being  we  loved  the 
imprisoned  In  some  tower,  and  \ 
the  foot  of  it,  outside,  gn&f'tiiq 
cold  stones,  trying  to  rearh  to 
It  is  sickness,  sin,  of  ours  or  hie^l 
impenetrability,  that  shuts  hiiiL| 
us.     We  hear  his  appealing  ' 
we   cannot  come  to    him; 
far  away  there  is  going  on  \h^  i 
of  the  voices  of  the  p* 
who  are  feeling  no  lou^ . . 
of  the  world,  and  ihey  chant  of  i 
and  heaven  and  pity.     But  it  ^ 
quiet  us  \  fur  it  is  not  only  ou 
i^orrow,  but  the  agony  of  aii/Oth<i| 
is  calling  to  us  \    and  we  try 
the  voice  of  our  heart  reach  hifl 
our  sympathy,  though  it  mastrl 
discord  with  the  chant.     Jane  \ 
to  see  JeflTrey  on  his  sick-hed,  j 
ingout  his  arms  to  her,  appealin| 

"  Non  ti  scordar  di  me^"' 
the  opera-singer. 

'*  What,  I,  separate  my  h« 
yours  I "  said  Jane's'thoughta* . 

"  Could  not  I  go  to  you  ? ' 

And  then  came  anothi«r 
tween   the  parts   of  the   op 
everybody  fell  to  saying  a  few  1 
Sophy  had  tears  in  her  eyes, 
only  took   out   her    handker 
show  its  embroidery  to  her  nell 

Now,   in   all  this,   Jane  ha 
thinking    not    merely    of    Jd 
severe  illness,  and   that   she 
been  there  to  care  for  him; 
sting  had  been,  that  another  \ 
had   tilled  what   was    her 
Jane  loved  Nettie,  as  all   the 
girls  loved  each  other.    But  J« 
been  Jeflrey's  strong  friend  J 
porter.     There  had  been 
his  life  when  she  had  sav 
himself.    She  felt,  then,  i 
to  be  every  thing  to  him,  —  aj 
of  the  influence  of  another. 


Sh:  of  One  hy  Half  a  Dozen  of  the  Other. 


^ttie  she  coald  not  beliere 
liglit  woman  for  Jeffrey; 
^too  mucli  alike,  both  fasci* 
tiitir  Tery  waywardness, 
iomehow  let  out  in  his 
fettie  had  changed,  had 


.  Nettie  to  improre, 
not  she  very  well 
!tat  prosaic,  Yaukee- 
^  kind  of  books  are  those 
Id  6t«m  on  the  butterflies! 
(  mdeed  prefer  them  aU  to 
^erpillars,  and  be  grubbing 
Ibe  time  over  the  foliage  ? 
)t  butterfly  finds  his  food  m 
leiM!Upy  why  need  be  build 
WBp  like  unts  and  bees  ? 
U  not  say  all  this.  The 
I  flittging  her  sleepy*  song, 
ooly  felt  that  it  was  all 
^  waii  her  fault  If 
•  so   stiff  about  Jef- 

tog}  it  would  have  been  dif- 
be  would  have  known  of 
IfiKMO  his  not  writing;  she 
k  gpue  to  him. 
IP  anmoged  that  Mr,  Areher 
Kk  hcm^  with  Jane,  And 
^  lienelf ;  00  Jane  had  do 
that  nigbL 


B  XVL 

i  of  Janets  bftviag  oofiv«r- 
k  ICuk  alone, 
^rilmble  leeliiifi  bd 
isaed  since  aboW  ' 
|H>e  eoold  not  naht  gNisf 
f  to  the  a^pesU  «Co^ 
fism  tbe  fociocn  bofi  aad 
■■a  Slvec^  Im  tbe  iat 
piKt^HedbodfsgMbtr 

I  ibo  door-«l»pa.    nt  bod 

or 


and  he  presented  Jane  with  a  packi 
of  tickets  of  the  Pro vuU*  11 1    Aseoeil 
tion^  and  its  little  directory  of  name 
to  whom  to  apply.     Jane  made  liber^ 
al  use  of  these. 

But  sometimes  she  could  not  rf^sist 
answering  such  an  appeal  hcrsrlfji 
and  fibe  had  accumulated  a  little  mt 
of  poor  places  to  be  visited,  that  »hi? 
attended  to  as  carefully  oa  to  any  of 
her  list  of  callers.  But  these  places 
were  far  away  in  the  narrow,  perplex- 
ing, winding  streets,  and  she  neetled 
Mark  as  guide.  Two  or  three  timoi 
a  week,  then,  they  set  off  together  on 
these  journeys  of  discovery. 

Such  an  expedition  was  not  partic- 
ularly favorable  to  talkiog  All  tho 
first  part  of  the  way  they  #ero  Iti- 
terrupted  by  meeting  aciinaintaneei| 
then  they  reachml  the  streetf,  whcj 
the  sidewalks  were  very  narrow,  —  1 
there  was  building  ^m^^  on,  hore  and 
there,  and  Mark  had  ti>  shoot  off  in 
one  direction,  and  Jane  in  anothi^n 
But  liark  bad  a  happy  fBeuUy  of  not 
being* disturbed  by  fhe«e  rtuiftuU  in* 
temiptioD%  and  won  hi  hold  tm  to  his 
sentence  and  his  idea,  all  thnvugh  ths 
intnceclee  of  elveet-croiotfigaf  nfuwde 
mod  joetHngt. 

In  one  oi  tbdr  wiodorT 
dmj,  £ir  down  ol  the  ^Kor 
Ib^  ftoiobled  opon  what  Wik^^d  Mk#i 
a  boe-btve,  or  wbai  Mafk  cmtM  a 
oiii4»eop.     fm  IHfU  aftt«  at 
'opv  miPfOtF  Itt'  %t' ' ' 
s  fitde  ehop  fomwbkb  «' 
vidi  m  0t^W^t  iJifci  in  fee  mnmh^ 

*^Bmfp&m  wm  %9f  mii  Ai««^^  -     -  ^t 
MmAU  /mo;  **§bi9  oor  1 

we  fall  Oi  if  I  ifcoilI4  Mtf  II 


;  ood  ih*f  w*M  Uti*t  I 


454        Six  of  One  by  Half  a  Dozen  of  t/ie  Other, 


found  it  waa  the  establishtneut  of 
Luelarion  Grappa  of  which  Jane  had 
heard.  This  remarkable  woman  had 
Bet  up  a  little  shop  in  the  most  hope- 
less and  poorest  part  of  the  town,  for 
the  very  purpose  of  doing  something 
for  the  forlorn  children  that  eeemdd 
to  swarm  about  there.  She  had  sue- 
oei?ded,  from  washing  the  face  of 
one  child,  in  purifying  the  families 
of  many  ;  and  she  gladly  showed  Jane 
and  Mark  up  and  down  through  the 
rooms  of  her  little  home. 

"  That*8  a  good  beginning,"  said 
Mark,  after  they  had  left. 

^*  It  shows  what  one  woman  can 
do/'  said  Jane, 

"  Then  how  much  two  people  could 
do/'  said  Mark,  "if  they  set  them- 
selves together!  But,  Jane,  do  you 
know  the  sight  of  all  such  destitution 
as  we  have  been  seeing  here  stirs  up 
all  my  theories  ?  I  begin  to  wonder 
what  right  we  have  to  any  property 
at  all,  when  these  have  barely  their 
daily  bread-  Not  that  I  am  largely 
endowed  with  worldly  goods;  but  I 
take  my  little  luxuries,  and  I  am,  in 
my  way,  working  far  an  independence, 
for  a  competency,  that  I  have  hoped 
to  reach  sometime." 

Jane  was  plunging  across  the  street 
in  front  of  an  omnibos,  and  her  an- 
swer was  lost 

"Now,  I  have  half  a  mind,"  said 
Mark,  ^^to  start  a  new  order  of  men- 
dicant friars,  throw  what  little  goods 
I  have  into  the  general  fund,  and  set 
out  begging  my  daily  bread/' 

"  If  you  came  across  brother  Bar- 
dies/* said  Jane,  for  now  they  had 
happened  to  reach  a  broad  sidewalk, 
and  firm  footing,  where  she  could  talk 
more  freely,  ^Mie  w^ould  give  yon  a 
ticket  to  the  Provident  Association." 

*' That's  the  trouble  now-a-days," 
said  Mark  j  **  one  is  always  coming  dat 
np  against  an  institution.    If  it  were 


only  like  the  old  daya,  vhi 
wad  a  wide  porcli  to  the  1m 
the  greaty  where  the  poor 
their  rest,  and  be  sure  thai 
bread  would  be  brought  to  tt 
**  But  stop  a  minute,  Ma 
Jane  ;  *'  somebody  must  thej 
enough  to  boild  np  your 
ita  wide  porch,  and  somtbod; 
to  earn  and  make  your  bread 
should  be  a  little  asfaaioed  U 
and  beg  for  bread  I  had  o^ 
But  perhaps  you  mean  U> 
grandly  that  yon  will  be  i 
it." 

*^0h,  no!'*  said  Mark, 
Gouraged  tone.  ^*  I  am  no 
but  seriously^  Jane,  is  it  tl 
life  among  the  rich,  or 
poor?  or,  rather,  won't  yi> 
w^hat'do  you  think  living - 
you  think  life  is?  " 

They  had  reached  a  crom 
where  all  the  hot»e-cars  a 
omnibuses  seemed  ta  have 
grand  jumble,  with  news-b 
women,  men  selling  boot-la 
with  valises,  women  with  h 
ling' bags,   all    flung     togQ 
grand   pell-mell.     It   was 
day,  and   sidewalks   and  i 
embedded   in   a  black  pa 
had  been   grasping   her 
dropping  her  sunshade   e< 
steps.     She     Buceeeded     i 
ing  — 

^'  I  think  it  is  a  little 

**I  agree  with  you,*' 
laughing:  "it  is  for  us  ti 
our  course  through  it,  togeth 
if  we  can.  What  do  yon 
this  blue-green  honse-c^'/ 

Jane  gladly  flung  hera^ 
and  Mark,  seating  himself 
went  on  with  his  speculatio 
were  somewhat  interrupts 
they  had  reached  the  meri 
quaintances  who  were  to 


Six  of  One  6y  fftMlf  a  Dozm  of  (he  Other.        455 


f  erne*     Still  Mark  beld  maaiullj    wl 


Jane  had  a  little   dme   U> 

It  all  hy  herself  she  began 

.  little  at  her  re^oiMibiB- 

■k.     He  waa  depending 

|tbe  feared,  too  much. 

days  sbe  naed  to  llimk 

e  kaleidoeeope  of  late  oogbt 

jo6tkd  Mark    and    Kettie 

nde^    ICettie  waa  predieljr 

tjr,   tireljr  ooQipanioa   ikai  he 

[  to  alir  him  &om  bb  dfvaiBi^ 

him  actire  in  life.     Xofr 

loecope    iiad    tnmed,    and 

a  fttA  crystallftariott  in 

}  circle.     Waa  tlm  to  be 

ent  one?     Sbe  began  to 

Tbere  was  one  thing  she 

that   she    woold    gtedly 

;  and  that  iraa  het  Ibctane. 

pleasant  it   would   be  to 

htm  a  Domfoftable    home, 

IxLTurioiifl  library,  and  to  hare 

g  easy  and  happy  for  bin^ 

do  it ;  and  in  reinm  be  waa 

•to   make   home^ile 

^wajB  even  in  temper,  with 

flow  of  ha^y  thcrngbt  and 

that  nade  talk  with  htm 

She    knew    that    Xadt 

so  little  <^  her  fartnni^  that 

that  he  was    poor  and  she 

n<j€  stand  in  the  way  of 

mg  her,  be^Mse  it  would  not 

him.     He  would  manry  her 

o  conscious  of  her   owm 

he  would  forget  in  his  «n- 

that  she  had  also  the  eo»- 

lannsof  mocMj.  Tbias»- 

rhed   ^%rt^ ;  msii  Ae  Mt 

Mi!  keep  hxai  in 

aL  ....  .....    The»  we» 

'ahoat  hrr,  who  looked  at  her 
an  heire«i*,    ■  is  fftttuh 

know  haw  Mack  mm 

of  it 
n  litde  sittllcd  sue  4af, 


Mark  came  in  soddenlj,  and 
begged  lo  ^leak  with  her.  Slie  drew 
b^ck  fiota  l^e  acoosiomed  throng  in 
the  parlors^  inta  a  little  anteroom 
that  separated  them  horn  the  billiard- 
in  the  wmg;  Tlua  was  so  called 
there  wae  a  bOliard-tabte 
theis^  where  aD  the  nemheta  of  the 
&mtly  wen  food  of  plajring*  But 
iteoMsiueated  by  eonie  stairs  with 
Ife  lower  sknjff  nod  Sophy  waa  apt 

oe  WffMtng  oer  oomewi'e  noosoiioia 
ooQAcua  here  with  her  eerraots*  So 
it  was  by  no  means  a  ssetnded  looaBi 
and  the  little  aateream  that  led  to 
It  was  qtute  a  thaeo^^hfiwe. 

It  paa  pret^  mndb  fOed  np^  loo^ 
by  n  large  Daphne  pbst  to  flower, 
and  a  marble  head  of  Pyscbe  on  a 
pedmmL  Mark  and  Js 
to  slayid  there  a  firw  1 

"^  JaiMv  I  h»n  tmm  to  tdl  yoo,^ 
said  Ma^  '^  that  I  hare  jost  recetrtd 
an  appoistmesi  as  head  librariau  to 
the  JnhneoniM  Lifamy  m  Chicago, 
wiA  n  teal  Mhslaatfad  adaty ;  only  I 


ftqptbebO- 


Kedt    HJHbegotonl? 

tof 


•Tn 


ef  e«r 


'  eaU  Jaosp  whs«i 
Sopfcyi'^bow  sin- 
!    For  I  wtm  foiwg  to  uU  jmt 
m  fteeu^   Iled>    bfoifa^r 
to  eomeovt  to  ChicagOi  Cof? 
rJBies^  toewifKie  some  bnsi* 
;  attd  Sspb/  moA  I,  aH  of  os^  are 
ML     At  k«st,  \i  is  seiHetl 
iflOcv    Xed  was  ulk iiiK 
al  brsakfajit  ^  iintl 
I  would  consuU  ytiu 


Jaar's    long  sent<nee   ba^l   only 
mmi^f  ewt  with  Inlsf  r 
CbV  the  oldset   boy,  ha<l  i 

thiiwgfc  to  the  btUtard-rrirmi^  la  Hiid 
kii  msCher^  ami  haek  agaiti,  not  syo« 


456 


Six  of  One  hy  Half  a  Dozen  of  the  OiJwr, 


cesdiil  in  bis  search*  Hetty  bad  ap- 
peared looking  for  Cecil.  The  nurse 
came  rushing  after  Rettj,  Cecil  bad 
made  his  way  down  stairs,  hut  Ketty 
was  not  to  be  allowed  to  follow  him ; 
the  nurse  brought  Ketty  back  trium- 
phantly in  her  arms,  screaming  at  the 
top  of  his  luDgs.  He  had  to  be  cos- 
seted by  his  aunt,  and  then  his 
mother  re-appeared  on  the  scene  to 
gee  what  was  the  matter.  Then  she 
wanted  to  consult  Jane  about  making 
Mr.  Jack  Bardies  stay  to  dinner,  but 
she  flew  o3*  again  at  a  scream  from 
Cecil.  Aunt  Maria  was  shouting 
from  the  front  room,  wondering 
where  Jane  was.  « 

*'  Of  course,  of  course,"  said  Mark, 
when  he  had  a  chance  to  speak,  **  you 
will  come  to  Chicago,  Only  let  me 
get  there  first  and  establish  myself, 
and  then  may  I  write  and  ask 
you  "  — 

Christine  here  plunged  in. 

"  0  Jane,  Jane  !  save  me  from 
that  detestable  Mr.  Archer.  He  is 
coming  up  the  stairs.  Do  let  me 
have  a  cosey  little  chat  widi  yon  and 
Mark"  — 

Mark  suppressed  some  strong  Ian- 
guage,  unusual  to  him,  and  left  He 
came  in  the  evening  to  say  good-by, 
hut  bad  only  an  opportunity  of  prom- 
ising to  write  to  Jane. 

The  next  day  was  Valentine's  Day, 
and  this  little  poem  came  to  Jane. 
It  was  not  in  Markka  writing.     But 


could  any  one  except  him  hi 

ten  it? 

DAY  AND  NIGHT. 


Tboooh  mj  bean  throlu  notvl 

her  voice. 

Nor  luoves  with  e?ery  rustle  of  I 

Still  do  I  know  her  wondrous  k 

An«l  in  bcT  rare,  sweet  be»utj  1  nj 

The  symbol  of  all  lovely  ihings  to  1 
A  touch  of  heaven  scemf  to  Itgli 
She  is  a  crcatuTO  of  such  pcrfbct 

And,  moro  ihMti  that,  sack  fKsrfecc 

The  woiJd  iseems  better  f»>r  her  Vm 
To  love  her,  tiicn*  can  any  cf  ti* 

Her  heart  a  treasure  is, — ^1  would 
It  is  enough,  oar  breathing  the  i 

I  know,  through  her,  mf  life  i« 
light. 

Tbi^  \s  the  placid  dttj :  oh  1 
a  ntgbt  ? 

n. 

To  her  alone  I  can  my  self  dip 

She  always  understands  and  i 

So  brave,  so  frank,  so  |^ev«iif  ^ 

So  true  a  friend,  that  I  for^t  iny| 

So  beautiful,  with  soft  yet  brilliai^ 

And  tRni^led  dork  brown  hair,  i 

rich  bloom, 
Whcre*er  she  tnoves  is  '' 
perfume. 
And  yet,  o'er  all  this  good,  i 

Thou;,'h  by  I  be  future  only  ^ 

Too  well  I  know  what  comiogi 

bring,  J 

If,  ever  loving:,  she  shoald  ooll 

She  wLU  reach  rain  throtigh  that  \ 

But  now  she  i^  all  love  and  lifi 

It  \&  the  joyous  day :  i  will 

ntght. 

Feb.  U,  1871i 


—    T-t  -oir- 


—  ^'  T^  2.    tUL^J^ 


X-1U3T  t:-  Hflist  GrLsOL  £-T» 

>ii :  azkd  lexiasr^L  01*7-  tih 
sftJe  bj  hET  rexn:^^  ti  bl- 
.  before  tht  ixac  wnrtni-c  -ni-- 
diui  c-f  rr-ss.  H^-r  wzr  n. 
d«*:b-*tr:L5:£>r  of  iisr  ■.•nuL- 
careelr  ended.  irii-L  mtt-  t^b? 

eiiter  int-j  l^er  resi.  cnc  "i« 
fbe  p&96ed  tiuDixi  .utif  pnt 
::tT.  thos*  wcffdi  af  weisunK- 
ch  i£  je  Lsrt  Q.iiH-  ir  om 

of  one  of  ihest  itj  tegtiiiT^T. 
i>jne  it  imxo  nkfc.*' 
»i£ion  ciJ]£  IK  to  Bsezcpr  b 
?  wluch  cm.  bcnrpTfE.  nrt^ 
briefest  ootlin*-  of  Tfw?  'j-I- 
e.  From  ha  cir::  Luiut 
written  in  tLe  LtifcT  of  rtit 
amid  the  blood  &Ld  dosr  of 
impai^LS.  and  fri-iai  the  t*?*- 
J  of  those  who  sivA  tj  Ler 
ing  the  solemn  eiigtiicitt  •:•- 
be  witness  of  the  rpk=:did 
of  vears,  and  the  endTzrazice 
et  hnmilitT  of  her  fierrit*, 
make  op  the  record, 
oman  who  entered  upK>n  her 

Dr.  Bellows   forcibly  sars. 

face  and  contend  with  tLe 
ine,  the  professional  indiffer- 
ich.  by  the  necessities  of  the 
3e  ordinary  medical  supervis- 
ime  of  war  impersonal,  uix- 
inngy  and  abrupt, 
honest  natural  jealousy  felt 
-ons  in  charge  aud  their 
yterSy  of  all  outside  assist- 
ide  it  necessary  for  ereiy 
rho  was  to  siioceed  in  her 


'wuL.'  ••iT'iiLZ  tilt  :tt*»t.  "  ?nu**  u;*.*. 
mu  a.  riHi-iiL-.  ■:  t::;.:--  :i»"  rit-  "u;- 
mimuL  iriu    5:--!T>-  ;t^  ''j*^-*   ll  *  jz^i— 

iifir  -atr.  iL=*:rT*r:LfiL  -aia-.Trun—.  jin. 
aTMLCii   -i:  ii-r^-  iiul  iiiir^.      ^i   una- 

ir  itijtspcsA.  .«r-*t::t  t-u.  w^  lur  ai_ 
£s::*nni»ni4l    thjtsol.  — k   womai.    a: 

iiCSHT  iiriur^.  '-'i**!^-*^*-  iM*m.,  tiTWT  tilr- 
riiTugfiAnn,      txrif"      thiTT^      niHUIt^C     "3*1^. 

'jiinniG^.  inmH-iSh  ai^L  Hij ;  wIL  zhm. 
mn^  n.  k  ':dinTHU2iL  ir  iter  »tn»  *"  - 

"SI  "in  tint  (T  "linitH-  tri::t*Trui)iiu]  womeu 

_=.  ^i^UL.    UeiksfL    iier    Uli'Jt.    •  Zin¥^    tilL 

prefix-  ;~.iur  vx;^  n.-:.  -iit  u-'-u*..  v. irk  *  ' 
Silt-     ci:i^v"tir^L     HimtL'".     "   ^^  ikjl    1 

"sii*-  :iffr:.g.  tni  nnew  i'ul:  ~  war  fi-1 
of  wjtLiiattL  niti  :  BCi.  'juHiijc  l  it.u-:- 
Hiihi..  kill  cJre'.Tni.r  "«  -Ti  t:  r:'W  nit  n 


fc3:i;»rLfcm»L 


j:^  i^etii-i:  iiikt  ti 


peoi.  wfc^i^c  Lk:i.  I  tn.k  ri;«ii  :-f  ::ir 
Itt.""..  s::id  Ltii  ::  f.-r  Lin..  TL-^  sur- 
g-ttoi.  j»kei  ■=:=.  fct  frsit  Fi:r:ris.ed- 
tLen  Sikil  -TiiuLk  y-.'U;*  kijd  I 
staid  ai.d  Lt-IjK-'i  L:3l  TLrii  I  wri.t 
on  with  Lim  to  :Lc  nrsi  ca-^ ;  Lr 
ma-ie  no  objecrioD.  and  fr.«m  that 
time  I  never  had  any  diffituhy  :here: 
though  ofren.  in  a  changrr  of  place,  I 
would  have  to  make  my  way  airesh." 
aPictetto  WoMBliWsik. 


458 


Helen  X,  GiUon. 


Some  of  her  later  letters  speak  of 
these  changes  of  position  as  being  pe- 
culiarly painful  and  trying  to  her;  hut 
ghe  never  failed  to  meet  them,  or  to  go 
to  any  field  of  duty  where  she  felt 
lier  services  would  be  most  useful. 

Mind  Gilson  was  born  in  Boston^  in 
1835;  was  educated  in  the  public 
schools,  and  when  seventeen  was  ap- 
pointed liead  assistant  in  the  Phillips 
Grammar  School  for  boys.  Here  she 
remained  several  years;  but  at  the 
commencement  of  the  war  was  acting 
as  governess  in  the  family  of  her  guar- 
dian, Hon.  Frank  B,  Fay  of  Chelsea. 

Her  sympathies  were  quickly  and 
eagerly  enlisted  in  the  cause  which 
united  the  w^men  of  the  Korth  in 
the  uprising  of  the  people  in  the 
spring  of  1861,  and  she  found  work 
enough  next  her  hand  to  do,  Mr. 
FftVt  at  that  time  mayor  of  Chelsea, 
had  taken  an  earnest  interest  in  the 
national  struggle  from  ita  commence- 
mem ;  devoting  time,  means,  and  per- 
«oual  rffbrt^  to  further  its  success. 
Hiss  official  connection  with  the  sol- 
diers led  him  to  the  array,  where,  from 
the  first  battle-field  of  the  war,  his 
truo  e^ttimute  of  the  sacrifices  and 
suflWing^  to  he  involved  by  it  were 
formed;  and  his  plans  were  accord- 
ingly made  to  remain  witli  tlie  army, 
wluTw  ho  rendered  voluntary  aid  upon 
«»v<»ry  battle-field  upon  which  the 
lUrmy  of  the  Totomae  was  engaged  in 
it«  long  »iud  bloody  history. 

SoiMi  after  the  establishment  of 
the  army  hospitals,  iu  186 1^  Miss 
<•  '  '    d  to  Miss  Dix,  who  had 

-  u  of  firinale  nurses ;  but 

nbr  hud  dol  iwidi^d  the  feq1liE>^d  age, 
lUid  WW  iinmiceeMlU,  In  May,  1862, 
l*owerer,  after  a  lew  days  spent  in  a 
'  *   'u   WajthingtcQ,  she  found 

'>  \  opixtrtunity  on  one  of  the 

lif)«|MUd  tfansfiorta  of  the  Sanitary 
i\uumUA5*m,  on  the  Pbntnnkj  Rif^r, 


from   which   she  soon  entesi 
service  in  the  field- 

Her  personal  prepaiati 
simple.  Two  complete  mM 
flannel,  with  suitable  boot^  \ 
pings,  a  strong  skirt  fof 
riding,  and  a  light  hat  ai^ 
prised  tbe  principal  part  of 
robe  for  field-service. 

On  the  30th  of  April, 
wrote  of  her  attendance  u] 
cal  lectures  for  the  techuic 
edge  necessary  in  tbe  \\\ 
wounds.  This  knowledge 
brought  into  use  in  the  P 
Campaign  of  McClellan, 
ed  with  the  seven  days' 
the  Chickahominy*  Tbe 
wards,  even  then  overcrow* 
victims  of  the  malarious  di 
those  fatal  swamps  which 
our  army  during  the  terril 
of  that  summer,  were  now  t 
swelled  by  the  thousands  ef 
men,  whose  bloody  trail  wj 
time  traced  from  Gtuue^^s 
Harrison's  Landing,  on  the 

All  that  care  and  kindi 
do  for  the  aid  of  the  sttS 
the  solace  of  the  dying.  M^ 
now  found  spirit  to  und* 
strength  to  perform.  One 
low-workers  says  of  her, 
always  cheerful  and  huppj 
and  her  influence  among 
diers  waa  remarkable, 
see  her  at  the  side  of  the 
man,  speaking  words  of 
soothing  him  with  her 
voice;  and  again,  kneeliQ 
couch  of  the  dying 
for  him,  and  bidding  hi 
pointing  him  to  the  ' 
who  taketh  away  the  sti 
world:'  AnA^  ere  now,  we 
many  of  those  souls  m^ooi 
Itrd  to  Christ  have  welcoi 
the   spirit4an€L      She    wm 


BdtM  L. 


4d9 


460 


Helen  L.  Gilson. 


goincr  on»  and  wc  were  ftssifiting  by  feed- 
ing the  farajshing.  One  poor  German 
diedf  while  waitiDg  for  some  tea,  .  *  .  In 
th«  aflemoon  we  drore  <m  to  the  battle- 
fi«?ld." 

A  dajr  or  two  after,  she  writes,  — 

**I  came  to  Waahington  last  oveniog, 
to  see  about  soppliefl*  Our  men  at 
Kecdysville  have  been  foil  of  vermin , 
for  want  of  clean  clothes;  in  one  hospital, 
erysipelas  and  hospital-gangrene  broke 
out.  The  men  were  so  filthy !  —  implor- 
ing us  incessantly  for  ghirts  and  dmwers 
and  socks:  and  ohl  there  U  such  joy 
when  they  get  clean  handkerchiefs  with 
cologne,  I  have  been  round  nnnonj;  the 
men  in  all  the  barns,  making  gallons  of 
corn-starch,  and  feeding  the  worst  case« 
of  wounded ;  those  with  eyes  shot  out, 
tongues  shot  away^  and  wouodis  in  the 
brain.  I  dressed  five  wounds  for  a  Rebel 
lieutenant ;  and  then  be  begged  me  to 
*  take  the  best  care  of  him,  that  he  might 
get  back  and  fight  us  again  I  * 

**  When  I  arrived  on  the  battle-field^ 
men  were  lying  in  all  directions,  the  dy- 
ing and  the  dead.  With  so  much  to  do 
for  the  living,  we  could  only  pass  the 
dying  by,  who  were  past  all  earthly  heal- 
ing. I  may  not  describe  iho  field.  Its 
horrors  no  tongue  ran  tt*lL 

^^  Tliree  thousand  have  alrea/dy  been 
buried^  yet  you  could  hardly  advance  a 
dozen  paces  without  stepping  upon  the 
dead-  The  doctors  tell  me  I  ought  not  to 
stoop  over  the  men  to  feed  them ;  but  I 
must  do  it,  it  is  so  much  more  satisfying 
to  them,  and  so  much  more  like  the  home 
ministry, 

"It  is  Sunday  night,  and  I  am  writing 
by  my  ration  of  candle,  a  small  piece. 

**  I  have  had  a  busy,  bu5y  day ;  let  me 
give  you  an  account  of  it.  This  morn- 
ing wc  rose  at  rdveille,  and  immediately 
proceeded  to  the  hospital,  which  is  in  two 
barns  just  across  the  way.  Having  but 
one  basin  and  sponge  for  the  washing  of 
scvent)-five  sick  men,  you  can  imagine 
the  operation  a  long  one ;  especially  as  I 
feel  inclined  to  be  so  unreasonable  as  to 
instigt  that  fever  patients  should  have 
clean  feet  This  being  over»  next  comes 
the  breakfast;  and,  considering  that  we 


have  but  one  old  tio  dipper 
six  men,  this  process  also  i^  a  fkii 
little  cornstarch  or  gruel  moH 
for  the  sickest ;  then,  in  mtmy  < 
must  be  fed »  and  I  find  timx  ; 
much  improved  by  a  pleataot  c 
the  process.  Then,  wluk  Mrl 
preparing  raspberry  mnegtSFf 
other  cooling  drink^  I  west  to 
bathing  their  heads  i^th  ba| 
writing  letters  for  those  who 
ilL  I  have  scrveral  patients  w 
ing  doctored  for  home-fidcaa 
gia),  and  I  make  it  a  busiat 
with  such  mt'n  half  an  hour 
It  has  a  wonderfully  cheering  e^ 
comes  Uie  dinner,  another  looj 
and  after  that,  a  little  nap  for 
then  a  chapter,  some  songS»  1 
wonls  of  cheer,  with  constaol 
care,  meanwhile. 

"  Mr.  Fay  rode  up  from  Ke« 
day  and  brought  some  gra] 
were  very  grateful  to  the  patien 
he  8taid,  I  rode  over  in  on  afl 
8h;irpsburg,  for  supplies  from  tl 
Commisaton,  but  found  the  it 
ly  empty  of  every  thing,  the  6i 
been  so  great  I  must  hmrt 
plies,  and  that  soon.  I  mam 
cure  a  water- pail  and  a  few  tl 
The  country,  having  suppticid  1 
in  ihcii*  course,  has  been  ^ 
Nothing  can  bo  bought  at  any 

Nov.  2, 1862,  from  Pleawj 

Md.j  she  writes,  — 

"  The  valley  was  bathed  th 
in  the  autumn  light,  but  my 
dreary  and  desolate.  Nine  hui 
here,  and  I  could  not  fiml  a  p' 
for  myself  or  stores.  Bustle  i 
sion  everywhere ;  the  army  m 
cannonading  in  the  distance 
lookinn;  after  myself  and  st4»ri« 
provide  the  forage  for  our  two-, 
rations  for  the  dinner 
the  sick  must  be  cared  forJ 


*'I  have  been  all  day  wttli 
full  of  fever  cases.  What  thin 
brought  them  lor  dinner? 
boiled  (very  fat  at  that),  har^ 
pea-^up !   Thanks  to  ottr  Ch«li 


Helen  Z.  Gilson. 


461 


jpplr  cnckcn  for  the  most 
Liter  dinner,  I  was  chaplain 
.  prayed,  and  ulked  with  the 
uld  nol  haTe  asked  a  more 
adience.  When  I  fini^ed, 
eurs  in  manj  eyes. 
ri«h  that  some  one  abler  than 
d  hare  spoken  to  these  sick 
sools!  Yon  cannot  imagine 
ive  the  sonl  of  a  soldier  is, 
trate  and  suffering.  Then  is 
Q icy  for  influence,  to  talk  with 
le,  of  his  errors,  and  of  the 
of  the  army: 


tested  myself  sufficiently  nn- 
1  shell  to  know  that  in  danger  I 
And  that  is  needed  on  the 
thinking  and  planning  hard. 
)cc  is  a  more  comfortable  bed 
-an  imagine.  Field-work  is 
[  am  exhausted,  not  haring 
hes  off  for  a  week. 

ant,  Mr.  McCauley.  now  a 
f  thus  records  his  rbo>:iLb&- 
is  period :  — 

met  Miss  Gilsoc  ir  VlrAsksr* 
^  soon  afler  :he  \a.vl^   .i  l^t- 

Ls  then  ziTZiZ  '^  ■rui.ri  -.i' 
and  hean  'jj  '^  fu*x  imt 
IdicT&  ilk  az.  ^L  tai^wrjrtjw   r.tr 

rfiZi.    c-;:Ci.<r-iaru.7      uhyi    tir.-.in* 

*iiisr  "ai'-iHt-  ▼'iriH  ir*  iiK 
>SH:  «mi£?  :if  ±iiini*.  iriiiiiti-* 
.  Viaiii  *»r-uti(.  in*    iwr    n    tii* 

LUlAt  '.if  '^VtfiT  iiliar  vilMin. 
r«l    IrtT         r     Un     Him      iU*     lU^ll* 

r.  _>*  inrtr.  um  uyii^Ti  i»-.m- 
•■  -.Kii*  :f  ufc  T'mn.  i*  »:w>' 
:>3.  ti-.imt   -*nii~t    v?ui   .u>.  t    n 

friOL      O      lllIHtK      iU*     .li»Tt. 

-^    :#*:Hiiit    ;i«    iv'nii    •.•.«-.   .i-; 

A  ii-**T»tli  m^J»A«{£-::«.  ."...-r. 
JJUi»-     iniittiuL     bMrc.      .  -^.-r      r* 

a;    JB  wiirii     It   «TiJ.'r«    im^   ^» 


soul  by  the  power  of  faith  onwanl  to  iu 
rest. 

^Shc  was  as  braTc,  too,  us  sho  was 
loving.  I  have  soon  her  sit  ullont  ami  un- 
moved in  the  midstt  of  n  iiOVi*n»  ('iiiiiii>n:iil<\ 
while  soldiers  were  tlyin;;  for  n'fii'^i*.  I 
have  seen  her  working  alniDnt  ulmu*  In 
a  colored  camp  and  honpital.  In  tlin 
midst  of  ignorance  unsuitofl  to  Iut,  vli*n 
that  must  have  Ixjcn  n*pu};iuuil,  aimI 
squalor  in  all  its  nrpuUivtMifM,  Mhn 
moved  an  angel  of  m«'n;y,  loviir^  and 
loved.  Never  was  stirp  W9  li({lit  at  )iit«. 
There  was  always  brig)itn«!«(i  at  \%t'r  v.tmi- 
ing,  and  saflness  at  lu;r  goin^. 

"She  had  a  ran:  jK;w«r  f/v«rr  iIm-.  vtV- 
dier's  heart;  it  a/:knowl«:d;f«:d  b*'/  «ir*/ 
always.  With  us,  h«r  lif*:  w;^*  i.»*\*U'U 
from  the  worid;  it  Uy  A  t'.tfti\uu\  «*/f^- 
fice  before  ev«rry  n^swly  fiOrtr^y.  irt?  v;  ^  ri-'l 
rich  w«mfe  w*  wb«'#  r*i^i «  «j^J  . !'.'«  % .  ■  *<  i  .v/« , 
To  ni»<t.  hw  *!sitrKk,'.y  i.r^  w-*^w#<  vv  *  \«p*f 
of  iIm  3wsa»*a^7  ;i:fe  tfc««i  ib^M  *\''j^\fi  '^n 


:i:i;u»5l  yv'.\    r.»:t.vi:.».M    m*. 
■;ii»    r»»ii:i.'.iiti*J'  \»'    »<•»' 
nil    I   itMi'iV.'    \»'     .nil*:' 
U;S>}>f.iilr;*     •»    I'*-'    'I     •♦"' 

V.    i:  ..    .r.     i    . 

*  A     r^ti,    ifi>'    I.     .      '  <.' 
tit*    •..•!»•     ■?'    ■•;■»       '   -/'."• 


I-  :■ 


v.-./,     • 


■/:• 


/*       '^ 


462 


Helen  X,  Gilson. 


topic.        The    lady    looked    pale     and 

fainU  nnd  leaned  wearily  on  tltc  shawls 
and  ciishioos  arranged  around  the  seat 
of  the  rar  for  her  support ;  which  cirfum- 
ftatii'i\  affording  an  opportunity  Ibr  some 
triiiiii'4  courtesy,  led  to  a  conversation 
,wbich  occupied  the  remaining  hours  of 
journey* 

•''So  casual  was  my  introduotioo  to  a 
iriend^ip  which  I  cherish  as  one  of  the 
most  privileged  memories  of  my  lifi? ;  for 
this  lady  was  Helen  Gil  son,  returning 
with  her  guardian,  Mr.  Fay,  for  a  few 
weeks  of  needed  rest  from  her  fir^t  year's 
campai'^n  among  the  field  hospitals  of  the 
army  ot  the  Potomac 

**  I  Soon  recognized  in  her  a  true  and 
unselfish  woman^  seeking  only  the  relief 
of  suffering  humanity ;  and  I  afterwanls 
learned  to  know  her  as  one  of  the  most 
heroic  Christian  characters  that  our  coun- 
txy'%  great  peril  had  called  into  active 
Berviee  in  her  cause. 

**  Mr*  Fay  and  Miss  Gilson  had  just 
returned  fmm  the  scene  of  Burn  side's  dis- 
astrous attack  on  Fredt!ricksburg,  having 
passed  throunjh  the  whole  dreary  Penin- 
sular career  of  McClcllan^  which  endcnl  in 
his  re-em barkiit ion  for  Washington  with 
the  \nH?t:k  of  his  nrmVt  and  the  victorious, 
though  bloody  battles  around  Antictam, 
No  niarvi^l  that  a  young  woman,  l>rou*rht 
up  amid  the  comforts  of  a  New-England 
home,  should  grow  tired  and  faint  with 
the  sii;ht  of  such  unparalleled  carnage, 
and  the  exhausting  bibors  and  duties  of  a 
conscientious  iield-hy^pital  nursen^ 

"  She  told  nfte  somewhat  of  her  story 
during:  that  evening's  ride ;  and  aft**r- 
wards  1  learned  more  of  it  from  herself 
and  her  friends,  as  well  as  tlirough  the 
pleassint  share  I  took  in  her  subse(jui.«nt 
work,  by  furnishin<^*  together  with  other 
of  brr  friends,  such  needed  supplies  as 
could  not  readily  l>e  obtained  from  the 
Government  or  tli^  Sanitary  Commission 
on  the  field." 

Miss  Gilson  writes  to  Mr.  K., — 

"  I  fully  appreciate  the  position  you 
occupy  in  regard  to  the  Sanitary  Com- 
mission, and  am  glad  that  institution  has 
•0  able  and  energetic  an  advocate  as 
yoorseh:     You  know  that  I  fully  belief 


in  this  humane  chanDel  fer  the 
ence  of  the  North,  ♦ 
spoken  here  ♦  .  in  lan_ 
I  could  command,  of  :  1 
complished,     I  have  n- 
self,  as  I  havti  no  desire  rbr  tnd 
reputation.    A^n,  I  am  opp 
as  the  Commission  is  to  indep 
bor.     I  believe  8tron:;^ly  in  nniti 
but  circumstances  have  ma<le  me,  ia  \ 
degree,  an  exception  to  the  rtilc 
in  regard   to  supplies ;    your  dStet  \ 
most   liberal  ooe»  and  one  that  I 
gladly  aceepti    if   the    gentlemen 
you  shall   interest   respou'l 
willingly*     I  have  never  s^A 
for   ray   own   distribution^   and  I 
do  so  now ;  .  .  partly  because  I  fearj 
pie  may  think  I  disapprove  of  th«  I 
mission,  partly  because  it  seems  IQn  I 
in*  favors  for  myself.     Then,  too»  , 
lieve  I  desire  to  work  quietly.    I 
my  only  motive   in  this  work  Is 
good,     1  pray  to  the  good  Father  Co  I 
me   lowly   and   humble.     I  am  bat ' 
happy  if  I  know  I  am  treading  ial 
footsteps  of  the  Great  Teacher.     So  1 
if  you  will  lay  tln^ 
in  which  I  conti: 
men,  you  will  make  lu 
I  shall  feel  that  I  hav 
to  draw  upon." 

The  purpose  alluded  to  in  thii 
ter   was   promptly  acted   upon? 
some   diSiciLl ty  arose  at  firsts 
gard  to  the  traDsmissioii  of  stor 
Miss  Gilson,  through  the 
channels  of  the  Sanitary  Con 
in  explanation  of  which,  Mr. 
Bloor,  the   forwarding  agent  ofl 
Commission  at  Washington,  writ* 

^*  The  medical  director  of  tho 
which  Miss  Gilson  is  situated  has 
message  to  the  Sanitary  Comn 
the  eiTect  that  no  supplies  would  be^ 
mitted  to  enter  the  hospitals  und 
charge,  as  private   property ;    and  J 
none  would  be  permitted   to  be 
uted,  ejtccpt  on  hb  written  orders,  i 
the   order  of   one   of  his    sul 
coiiUtersigned   by  himself*     TJje 
director  complains,  that  if  dellc 


Mi 


BOm  L.  GUso9i. 


«*We  lave  warn  m  lM§  ootpt  tiogpital 
iboui  twdre  liflBdred  patleiite.  We  thM 
K11IB  bere  mitil  aa  cag^fiimit  tJJces 
fbce.- 

Ag^n  ihe  writes  ima  Fit^Httgh 
Family  near  FaJinoutlii  — 

*  I  hmi  e  oDc  mun  by  ine  now,  bremUuitg 
Ma  tasL  Qi:  k  upcoiiwrkioa,  and  laay  lie 
K>  for  boanr  though  hit  eyes  are  set  to  Uie 
^1m  of  ddth. 

**  HU  fiither,  an  old  man,  a  ^niier  from 
Nev  York^  siu  at  the  fool  of  the  bed,  boid- 
ing  in  his  hand  furioui^b-papen  for  hi«  son ; 
*  a  furlough  of  twenty  day  is*  ao  the  paper 
reads.  It  came  too  late.  The  boy  has 
started  on  a  joumej  where  none  but  the 
loTisible  may  bear  him  company.  He  has 
an  uuiiraiu*<i  furkmgh  now.  We  have  two 
others  who  only  wait  the  sitmmons  from 
the  Father.  They  are  worn  and  emaci- 
ateil;  their  eyes  follow  me  about  the  ward. 
One  said  this  morning,  ^May  no  harm 
ever  come  near  you,  Latiy  I  * 

^  The  new  tent  ^  yon  haye  sent  me  is  a 
tittle  treaaure^  whereTer  I  may  wander  I 
liETe  a  horoe^  c^gmfo^able  and  dMserfuL 
The  ktiifc  and  fork  and  spoon  I  use  at 
every  meal;  nothing  has  eome  amiss. 
Please  say  to  Mr.  IL  that  I  used  yesterday 
a  large  quantity  of  New  England  rura, 
which  was  put  up  by  him,  for  makin;^  milk 
|iunch.  I  prepared  seventy-five  quarts  of 
that  urticle  for  several  hand  red  sick  men 
who  were  sent  on  to  Washington.  Every 
ambulance-iotul  of  siek  received  a  quart 
Ixjttie  of  milk  punch,  to  keep  them  up  on 
I  he  way.  The  sick  suffer  greatly  far  want 
of  jiroper  nourishment  on  their  way  from 
the  field  to  the  general  hospitals." 

To  Mr.  K.,  April  28,  she  wrote,  — 

*'  To-day  we  have  a  new  arrival  of  m"k» 
find  your  boxes  of  milk  arrived  just  in 
ceo^^on  to  meet  the  demand  for  milk  punch 
wluch  these  exhausted  men  rt'qmre.  I 
visited  an  a<^ent  of  the  Commission,  and 
obtained  fmm  him  some  interesting  read- 
in;:^  matter  whiclt  had  been  forwarded  from 
Philndelpbia,  Your  city  is  determioed  to 
h»ad  the  van  in  her  efforts  on  behalf  of  the 

'  Oil*.  wii<ch  Mr  K  hurl  ^piit  out  t*i  Mb*  GUtfoo. 
fp«*cl,illy  constructed  und  nrntngtHt  fbr  her  com* 
fort  and  ooureiUcsnci!,  oa  iXit  lleld« 


sddiera*    Slie  baa  doQO  nobly 
ratatng  re^msiita,  but  hi 
in  the  field*     Am  mU  traooot  g^ 
tho^  who  f^main  at  borne 
crate   time,  momsyf  eShat,  So 
Ifof^  blood  mnai  be  sbcd,  mocr 
die^   more  suffering   must 
No  one  has  a  n  jht  to  stand 
'1  have  donr  '  till 

hb  6itren2;th  -  jim. 

*->Vhatafield  1  ha^t'i      : 
spring  I    the  great  aw/yA     • 
hnppy  in  bfin;i  able  to  wcirk  l^c 
try.     The  world  does  not  eon^lti 
am  the  favored  on^      Many  W4| 
done  what  I  am  doing  il'  tlie  tip 
had  been   presented  :  I  belkvc 
ate  my  iHend«,  and  their  cxerti4 
behalf.  *  ...  I  have  never  spw 
pier  year  than  the  laat ;  and  I  I 
will  eontiouc  to  me  the  great  W 
heal  til  and  strength,  tltat  I  inajr 
in  the  field." 

In  the  early  part  of  May* 

curred  the  battle  of  Chaticel 
and  the  disaslroiLd  and  diiag 
termination  of  the  scnie^  c 
which  marked  Gen.  H»jokon 
on  the  lines  of  the  Bappa 
bat  in  which  the  ad  r  ant  age  i 
the  enemy  was  dearly  pitnt 
the  death  of  their  gz^at  and 
commander^  Stonewall  Jackai 
losses  were  heavy  on  U>th 
in  answer  toth*- 
Mr.  Fay  and  M 
ward  to  the  tielA 


Im^l 


May  5  she  writ<?s^ "  I 
and  day,  —  oookiog+ 
wounds^  uking  mesM^es  oi'  thm 
praying  with  them*  Wc  are  i 
tomae  Creek*""  Smiday,  lOtb. 
to-day  held  two  services^  and  * 
wards,  •  .  .  Last  Sunday  I  ro 
Fredericksburg  in  tijo  morfUn^ 
on  to  the  battle-ground  strcwi 
dead,  just  Hs  they  fell.  I 
tents  of  &ome  of  their 
wjirdcd  by  cxpresa  to  fneiid»in 
setta. 

''  Fredericksburg  ia  ibaiirrodi 


BOmL.  OaMm. 


4<i 


laJld^J 


ij  rm^j  tlvQ^I^  ike 

t  of  bread  aad  hA- 

^  194 ihen  retraced  *ni 

^  tiitf  pootooss  to  FaJMWtli 

L,JQal  inliBwtofQeciPD 

U.  a  Fold.    lact  a 

t    Fredevicksiiiii]g^  wfao 

,  dcvy  JQit  oonie  iJowia  to 
►  a  cup  of  coffee,'  '  Why, 
^  how  cam  joa  afford  oo^ 
'H  ift  fix  dollars   a  pooad?* 
yr,^  ^  laid,  ^  r$e  been  savijig 
L  ali "  de«e  tre^^  mooCli^ ;  cb^ 
i  use  joa  ftU  come  over/    We 
all  thai   ni^ht,  feeding  the 
\  tbej  eaioe  fram  the  field,  mo¥- 
i  to  hofpital,  makiog  milk 
\  momxijgi  ilieD  back 
I  and  prepansd  break- 
One  poor  fill- 
ilpliui,  oioflallj  woojiUed 
e)»  \^j  there,  with  noble 
Uoe  e^t^^^  and   pleasant 
I  told  bim  he  must  go 
Fadier  to  UeaTc^  he  ex- 
^UlagDen  lo  die;  bof  wM^ 
|I  Aoahi  tore  to  ne  ny^  vUb 
But  thai  ns  not  to  be^ 
f  doath  hrfii  I  might  desenbel 
\  trrer  appreciate  the  s^pirit  ai 
till  lie  ttaads  hj  the  side 
■  «rho  b  djiagt  wilLiDglj,  for 

ef  the  Mrmj^  m  good  ;  tlie 


^m  iM  wi 


ai«lM«.OM 


sta«Kti^ 


^I^ 


loir  ofntT 

ItiSMlMlO 


rfati^iaaitKta  ^ 


rbosafWwboe 


w«ff^  to-di^,  191mm 


tVoa%toagi^hiai^ 
bi^  that  tlM  wot  IM  hmdM  anl  thit^ 
■uuadeil  joat  oiiwla  llw  lova  (F^adif^ 
iiaMwupi,  wbo  Mid  beaa  bvuante  In  INmi 
tWRebetfiaesaBderaiif  oTuwi;  aad 
knuig  that  Am  poor  lyiovi  Im4  Naa 
tiviDs  on  two  *  hard  taek  *  apbo«  Ibr  ftf« 
dJTS.  we  tmmedtattly  pfvpingd  a  fooil 
copper  for  them  of  bmd  aad  ooflRia  mhI 
hot  milk  pmiGh,  and  ireiil  out  to  finid  tlmii* 
The  ambulances  Ujr  half  a  m£b  oqI  of 
town ;  and  we  were  obUged  to  walk*  and 
caiTjr  the  kettles  of  Ibod,  aad  ditl  not  tv< 
tire  till  two  o'clock  in  ifae  morntna ;  biii 
the  grateftd  expremion  of  appnrJatiiio^ 
aod  the  bleeatasa  showered  upon  ua,  w«f« 
oonpeaiatioa  mufh  fur  our  toiL  aad  mf 
aloep  waa  ■omid  aad  iweet,  (hm  iha  mm* 
8L*ioa5n«59  of  dtit^  done. 

To  Mr.  Km  26.  —  ^  Mx  lupply  of  milk  !■ 
exhausted,  and  oooe  lo  be  obulaad  la  Wa«b* 
ingtoo.  Pleaaeieod  Oi  laorei  *  .  .  *V\m 
porter  yim  leni  h  belog  dbtrifaitliiA  *  *  • 
and  b  doing  agreat  wocIl  Wllh  the  pur* 
of  laiaoBi.    Uf 

nine  hnadnad  aad  aixtyKAa  aaa  iaoo  dmin 
a  atorefaouae*  .  *  .  I  hava  plaaijr  id  braa« 
d/aadcradusr^offigifpntaaifaad  bromai 
I  need  therrf  aad  pott  wbMl^  ailllt,  j 
dered  moak  (Ibr  vmfB)« 

€B«    dlMMI 

*  *  .  I  aea  panoMUf  tii 
aCaO  my  mffUk^t  .  s  , 

liaMiMMa  ^  aa«lb  arflirii* 

k  diifirad  by  my  Mkm* 

Thm  iiafc 


"  v- 7 

'^rim,  aMf  mm$ 


and  wfffiiirflif#ifHlMfi 


I  fa  -di*. 


466 


Ups  and  Downs, 


hospital  are   girea  with  mj  own  hands, 

anil  kept  in  my  possession.  It  generaliy 
take?  me  till  dinner-time  to  get  through 
all  the  wardj;  and  attend  to  the  diet ;  but 
in  the  aflernoon  I  have  time  to  devote  to 


mading  and  singing,  and  priTilB  i 
nations  with  the  patienta.  Oitl  ti  J 
ter  come  maoj-  confideocett  bai  IJ 
not  time  for  detaiJs  now.* 

[To  be  tiontiiiaed.] 


UPS    AKD    BOWKS. 
A  NOVEL  m  THIBTY  CHAPTERS, 
BY   EDWABD    K.    HAI^E* 


CHAPTER  XV. 

It  seemed  worth  while  to  tell  this 
story  of  poor  Oscar's  recovery  of  the 
wagons,  because  the  whole  transac- 
tion marked  a  stage  in  the  dear  fel- 
low's life.  They  had  all  been  fond  of 
him,  in  the  shop,  before.  But,  after 
this  bit  of  preseoce  of  mind  and  gal* 
lantry,  everybody  respected  hiro ;  and, 
in  such  a  phice,  there  are  a  dozen 
little  promotions  possible,  by  which 
the  general  favor  can  be  shown  to  an 
apprentice.  Jasper  was  at  home 
again  before  long;  and  he  took  more 
thaqp  one  way  and  time  to  thank 
Oscar  for  his  spirit,  and  to  let  the 
grateful  fellow  feel,  what  it  had 
always  been  hard  for  him  to  under- 
stand, that  all  the  gratitude  was  not 
to  be  on  the  one  side. 

I  will  not  say  but  we  might  follow 
along  the  Ups  and  Downs  of  the 
shop,  its  rivalry  with  other  shops, 
the  successes  of  its  work  in  quarters 
which  gave  new  customers,  and  the 
gradual  confidence  which  Buffum, 
^  Dun  das,  and  Jasper,  the  three  mem- 
bers of  the  firm,  grew  to  have  in  each 
other.  Nor  will  I  say,  but,  in  a 
master^s  hands,  the  mere  details  of 
whiffle-trees,  and  patent  axles,  and 
enamelled  cloth,  and  neat's  oil,  might 
not  furnish  out  a  romance  as  inter- 
esting as  the  tale  of  the  tournament 
at    A&hby  de  la  Zouch.      Given  the 


master,  I  think  it  would, 
was  a  good  ^vux.     Idealitv, 
caution,  and  daring,  t\ 
mingled ;  and  all  the  i 
men  of  truth  and  honor, 
they   grumbled    sometitnes 
other ;  they  sometimes  secretly  t 
even  for  hours,  that  they  h« 
seen  each  other.     But  xxont 
was   it,  in  truth,   a   good 
lucky  was  it  for  them  all , 
were  united  in  it< 

But  it  is  not  the  bnsioeiis  i 
story  to   follow  out  only  one 
shorter  phases  of  Jasper's  111 
Oscar's.     And  I  must  ask  the*] 
to  imagine  for  himself^  on  tli 
which   have   been    given,  th^l 
and  fears,  successes  and 
of    these    young     manufact 
what  was  still  a  young  city; 
its  date  as  a  frontier  post 
so  far.     For  Jasper  liims 
its  dark  sides,  of  course ; 
its  bright  sides  in  much  la 
portion*      Seeing    he    was 
honest,  faithful,  and  bt&ve, 
of  course   true.     Oscar  was 
comfort,  —  indeed,   he    was 
blessing ;  for  it  was  duo  to 
there   was    no    danger   that 
should  be  too  much  alone, 
for    this,    that    danger    would) 
come    in.       For   Jasper    waa 
And   he  had   not   forgotten, 
more  recent  experience  of  % 


UpB  and  DcnPTis,  467 

hr.  that  there  liad  been  dars  bor  became  a  man.  be  sbcmld  spe^k 

e     liad    walked    about    tbese  without   iitreicn    accent.      He   made 

^eets,  driven  frc»m  door  to  door,  Bednlou«  stndr  of  t}je  anatomy  of  the 

anybody's  caring  whetber  be  Toca]  orcans,  and  of  the  analyr>i«i  of 

di€rd-      So  be  could  not  natu-  sound,  and  drillftd  the  bov  on  careful 

y.'P    into   the    society   of    the  pyst^m.  and  with   wanderftd   results. 

rb icb  opened  liefore  him.      I  Oscar    called    this    twenty  minutes, 

doubt   that  he  was  wrc»n£r  in  •*  c^iinc  to  school."    This  school  would 

lis  truer  theory  of  life  wciuld  bnng   them  outside  of  the  pic-j»en6 

let    by-gones   go  as  by-gcpnes.  aiid    shaTaties  of  the   outskirt?-:    and 

make  the  utmost  out  of  tct-day.  then  thev  comd  enjoy  summer,  aotumn, 

J   ratber  more   than    half-way  or  wiLter,   as-   it   mirrht    be.     Ja.^jK.*r 

eople   as  met  him.     But  Jas-  would  le'.Turt.  and  Oscar  would  liKten, 

\  not  a  saint.     He  pememl»ered  leamediy   and    ftL2*'r]y.    of  whaiever 

)dioa5   calls    here    and    there  might  l»t  t*ef:>re  them.     The  y'laug- 

lie  was  looking  for  something  ster  who  ha.^  iarejy  graduated   t now- 

m  up ; "  and  be  oould  nfit  bring  a  'linie   aSuut    itoZiuLT.  a  little  about 

r  to   meet   those    same  jieople  famiins:.  a  iirtie  li.li'kut  the  cloud-  and 

piet^Dding  tbat  be  liked  them  the  weather,  a  L'ttle  a^Kiut  the  (>haj*e 

ected  them.  c-f  the  Enow-5ake*i.  a  lirJe  abr»ui  the 

C  would  bare  been  apt  V-j  hat*-  foraging  of  t:»e  r.-Jr  on   the  Kt reamer : 

at  he  would  bare  dropj»ed  back,  he  kn-w?.  a  little  arK»ut  erery  thing. 

aiQgs.    into  a  habit   of  s^ittmg  Terr    ^yrL     TLat    it    what   be  wa^ 

pesLd :  be  would  bare  taken  up  sent  to  Lir  c'ilj*-ge  i.-r.  —  to  lay  afouu- 

tbe     '•Sartor   E»e»arta*j."    the  dari-.-r.  ol  v'r.i*. ;..  w:(*-l  the  time  came, 

eel's  German   Literamre."   the  Le  r..riT    '■--ii   so'.  i;    ed;fi':e    a-  Mie 

from    Cousin    and    Jou^r- y.  zt.rl  ^j-.t^r./.^'.^  ''T^'-t.    A :j  J  »io  J Ji'^^er 

had    been   the  rage  when   he  war  j-re:iikr*-i.  *;'j^"i*:.*.-y  v«!l.  t.'»  iiold 

ambridge.       He    would    Lh"re  fc-ni    f.    •'.►n'.:i-r    vl    t":  ;*■.    or   *,*.».:   or 

in  JndfrJT  Rerum  out  of  ti-ri-^e  i.:i  'tb-r    t:i*!-.-  .    a:i{     ^.»i':Si.-   Il•^e^'-d 

and  wouJd  srradnaLy  hare  jier-  wi":   ue.  r:  *  t*- *.!-      M*^L.:^w'r.!> -ivrr:*.- 

I  himself  that  he  wa*  a  tru.y  t':.-:.r   w  r-j-    re:::. .■..'J    'y.-.'.ij    of   J.wi*', 

cable  literary  man.  aaily  unai-  -A  i.r.    -r  ■.•f  i'je-ii  »*:.  '-r  of  -^it-z 

tied,    and   tbat    Dtrtrc'it   wat    a  *»ea-^r/*:r  '    there,    'r    ' .'    hoa...::'    t'.*. 

(Kvisb  and  unsympat heric  p '.a'/e.  zii : '"ii.  ti^  i:k.      Azi '.;    v ;  i  e  r.     r  i  »■     f  • ;    .1 

kich  no  man  of  culture  or  intei-  tM-riie  -JLf:i*-r  »">- . .    -:*  v-    r-.-.  or. 

ft  ftboold  ever  be  sent :  wh iie  the  :. :■  Li?  L *iarr ' -  •  :'•• . :.*■  •. • .  *■::.';    ^   ' : ■  '- 

voold  hare  been-  that  Mr.  Jas-  N'-.rwi-g.ibr..  v  4'.::.   f^  .    v.   ^,*-«i*.ij:.*.y 

tinng-    bachelor    of    art-w    wit*  fr-iL   -:k   *  >  v-i**.    :>  wa»    ;'«i  'V  :il 

Bgto  be  a  rery  boc^rifeh  a.nd  un-  eane.   or  ::,    i;*    L-.r  .**..   >*;,,'  :j   ^'a> 

ithedc   p*^".    not    beariLg    h^  (-."Why-  -"""'T    *«•'''■   ^**-   ^"^t\  jj*'*^.'h 

tttin  the  social  system  Vj  wh^ct.  grev  n.-.  re  l:i'-  :::."-■*  ;'..?»- 

boged.     From  this  delnsic-ii  aiid  S:.u*e' :-^et  v.*:^  "w^i-.K*   ;^a'. e  p.*/*; 

IhoumTed  bim.  e:t:-e:  --.    r  ..*:►   vr  .  .•  ^  *r.s*.>   of  n*  w 

7  took    long   walks    toge:b-r.  "■ag-:.-.    v  r.e*.    ^.-it-rh    wt*    ».'yTr,t»r.  ;'.;ir 

nntj  minatea.  a«  they  tiegan  i*e«  v.  -.ie  Vf.-'.*:'^      /;-.♦..  a^^T  i-i..  ••'•7 

walks,  Jasper  drilled   b;m   <'i  I"e*^'J  •.•-*^  .-vl.*.*  t.^^  :r.o*t      i^of  *ti'-.r 

igjUfth,  detennin«d,  th£t,  u  the  «ere    »:.:.    J^-/    -^^J   '^'^  ^^i*^  *^ 


468 


Ups  and  Downs, 


omnipotence,  and  in  walking  thej 
had  least  care. 

Swimining  was*  for  two  roontha  of 
tlie  year,  better  even  than  walking, 
per}iai>H,  Swimming  was  a  mania 
with  Jasper  j  and  it  proved  tbat  it  was 
a  habit  with  Oscar  from  a  period  so 
early  that  be  could  not  remember 
when  be  could  not  swim.  So  soon  as 
Mr.  Dunda8  found  out,  as  be  said, 
how  crazy  they  both  were  about  it, 
be  admitted  them  to  the  secret,  that, 
a  little  way  up  the  river,  he  bad  cer- 
tain well-defiued  and  undivided  rigbta 
of  suzerainty,  which  entitled  him  to 
permit  them  to  carry  up  to  an  old 
barn  near  the  shore  an  old  sea-chest, 
of  which  Oscar  bad  renewed  hinges 
and  lock,  and  which  Jasper  then 
stored  with  Bent's  crackers,  and  a 
Dutch  cheese,  while  in  the  oliVjut, 
cjf  Oscar's  cabinet-making,  be  laid  in 
a  dozen  crash  tow^els*  Dear  Lily,  I 
am  sorry  to  confess  that  they  were 
not  hemmed ;  but  of  some  sexes  one 
weakness  is  an  inability  to  hem  rapidly. 
The  rights  of  suzerainty  extended 
down  the  beach  ;  so  that  when  Jasper 
chose,  he  and  Oscar  could  run  down 
from  the  shop  to  the  river,  take  a 
boat  and  row  up  to  Flinders^s,  as  this 
pbice  was  called,  strip  in  the  shade 
of  the  barn,  and,  to  take  the  delicious 
vernacular  of  New  England  in  its 
sweet  simplicityj  could  "  go  into  the 
water.'^ 

Ah  !  those  were  the  really  glorious 
days  for  Oscar  I  They,  undressed 
slowly ;  they  swam  forever,  —  if  it 
ha«l  been  heaven  they  would  not  have 
enjoyed  it  morej  unwillingly  ibey 
came  back  to  shore  when  Jasper  gave 
the  word*  They  ran  races  in  the  cos- 
tume of  the  Olympian  games  upon 
the  beach*  They  lay  in  the  sun,  and 
Jet  the  life  from  the  light  soak  into 
their  skin  and  flesh  and  bones.  They 
slowly  resumed  the  baser  disguises  of 


fallen  man ;  and  then  they  1 
skiff*,  and  let  ber,  if  shn  woali 
down  lo  the  ec^nes  of  dirt 
and  barter.     But  there  was 
time  when  they  so  disensaod 
ities  in   heaven    abore  or 
neatb|  or  in  the  waters 
earth  j   nor  ever,  as  Oscar 
did  life  seem  so  free  as  wh« 
thus   got  away  from   their 
away  from  bouses,  away  from| 
even  away  from  w:ork,  and  an 
men. 

These  young  men   had  le 
most   young    men    have    to 
other  people  in   the  world; 
were  all  in  all  to  each  other. 

Meanwhile  Jasper's  relat 
the  little  college  circle,  whei«  \ 
met  him,  fell    oif,  be    scarcelj 
how.     He  was  annoyed  iLal 
so.     But  there  was  no 
he  should  be  an  noyed.     Let 
fewer  and  fewer  on  both  side 
when  they  wrote,  they  found  I 
their  sorrow,  tbat  they  luwl  no 
say.     For  Jasper  himself  his  1 
not  satisfy  him,  but  it  did  not  j 
isfy  him.     He  certainly  liad 
persuaded  himself  that  he  ha 
sent  into  the  world  only  to 
ter  carriages  in   Detroit 
been  made  there  before.     But; 
other  band,  it  was  clear  that 
carriages   tben   and    there 
duty  next  bis  band  just 
that  it  was  the  only  place  wl 
had  just  then  to  stand  in,  in 
duing  of  the  world.     And  Jii 
sense  fnough  to  make  out 
bad  not  been  put  into  the 
any  mere  person^d  purpose,  1 
child  of  God,  to  whom  God 
trusted  a   part  of  this  bo 
%Yorld-subduing*    Ja^^per 
hearty  that  he  should  have 
world  much  better  if  it 
him  as  chairman  of  a  ie 


Ups  and  Downs.  469 

Oongress.      But  there,  un-  p«wd.     And  .«o  Jri-sj^r  *fi!a«v-/J    K:m- 

y,    t\\e    Constittition   of  the  *vlf.  wh.-n  h**  rHH'-r*-«I.  rba*.  :r.  •ijh 

aul  that  no   man  should  en-  he  ha»l  liv**«l  l-iii.:  ••zynz'i    t-    '  ••    a 

L   the    House    of  K«.'prej*enta-  Ma^ti-r   of  Art-,    h*:*    w:i«    :;.•   y  ■    ^ 

1    he    ^iras    twentr-five    \*k\t^  IL-riry  Tliiy.  a  N".*;  •■!•'::.   -r  i   '».    :- 

d,  if     it    ha^l    not   said  s(»,  no  fns.      Y*z.  f-r  a'.l   ''i:-.   I.-    '..  i    -.  • 

.ency  havl  shown  any  desir»»  to  ninan  ?o  Ik*  a  varri  i^^-r*-::!  :-r  .»!!   r   - 

\k\Tn.      Ho    knew   in  hi:*  hoart  lite. 

Kshoulil    have    liked  the  w«irM        X'»w.    my   .i-.ir   L  !y.    i:*   y    ;     ^r- 

^\»tter,    if  it    had    n»MMli'tl   him  quir*- *irrr.ij-d  !..■•».-.•  .»!  :'.  -  •■•>.- 

■it isee<lod  the  yn liner  Xap.iIfon,  r*  n-.i":i."  ;t* '.hv  « r- .-.■.■.-     i!!    *     !     - 

yngiu^a  f-.iltering  rolumii  at  tii»;  n«it  "t-^-'n  •••  y- 1  •  .  :.    ;■  •'•  •  -•   -  .■     :. 

j|eof  LfMli,  or  carrvinjx  iin  army  ar  all.  I  ;»!•!  v  rv  -  r:y.     V  r  r-*    ■.    • 

limpossiVd*.*  riMife  to  j)ouri'*e  ••11  d'H.s  }..  Y   i*   a,   jr*  .'    i- .!.     I    !-.       «■ 

efeiided   vall«\v.     But  in»f»'-Nly  wha*  y.-i  wa-;-.  ■:.     V-  ;  -%  .•.•-!.  •    *-. 

Dmuned  him  to  any  ^wy]i  d»i*y.  jjx.**  a-  •<-••    .i*  -T  !.-•.-.-  •.  .:  :.  - :  •    -: 

^  oil  the   other  hand.  >lirik»-n  nii.*"  t  ilk  %■;:'.    I'.r.^':.-  -'-.       \    .•> 

^6ad  at  the    M».*xii'an  war,  wii.-n  h'»m»*  t  •  i:  «  }.■••■!.  .i-.  i  -vr  •■■  i'.-r  ;   •: 

pefiifeil     the     projwsals    of    the  th^  ti:'<  ^-.i  r  :';".  :.  ■'  ■  ■:::  *:  ►  v-r  -\  x^ 

r contractor.       lie  could  under-  wrr»:..  nrd   — :.  i   :'   r  .r.  i   •■   :■:: 

Tery   well    that    it    wi>iill     K'  and  w;t!k    ir.xi-  :->.-    :.  '..-  '-k-  -  :- 

taiter  to  work  as  Charles  Diok-n.*  f-r  a-,    i.    it.    r.i  ''  ■:.   r-    ■  •  -   :-  -. 

|workin^  at   that  moment,  every  her.  ar  •:.-  i..i:.-i-     :"  %  '.  t-  -       .  ..  -» 

|0f  whose    monthly  i»arr:s  Jasper  m --    r  «•-'■:  i.       T '.•::.    y    .    -.   ,:.•.  . 

iOscar  were   buyinix  at   the   \n*>  hirn  •  •  :-y  r  .  Ij-r-  i.  i-  1  :"  .  :   ;■:.•  .• 

It  when  they   appearrMl."  and  d—  hi^  ari;-.   •.:,  1  :r---     :.-   !-:  •-     •     :.  r 

big  eagerly.      But  ju?«t  here  Ja*-  1::  «.  :.:.  i  ::.-:i  Tj    -  - "  •  v.-;..   ::  r:     .. 

I^is  aware  that  he  oouid  not  writv  ai:  i  }:.»■••■-  •?.--  -:  .-y  ':  -.-.  .:. :  i  .       -r 

•'Cariosity    Shop"  if  he  tried:  -it-ry  "' •-::.:.  . 

ke  even  doubted  whether,  if  u^        I»».tr  L.!y.    I     .t.    •-•-.y  -  rr-'    •  r 

there  were  any  publisher  wi.j  y..-i :  )-■;•.::"  ::.!-  •'.  1  r.  •  ?  -■;-•.       - 

take  the   risk  of  sending  *y.\i  can  V'Vi  .i-.  :  I  r:.:i!-:-   :  ;  .;  ■-  .  '  .'   ■- 

iiapters  to  the  world.     Even  a:  j-r  AA  :.  :    --.■   h-rVi    :.:   ^   ;.-..• 

and  twenty  he  had  thus  found  atV-'r  rhr  \\r".'^:.\  ::..:•    :.  .•  .     ..• 

lie  had  hi:}  limitations.     And  so.  one   wori    :":  -u    ;.  r.     A.:     .     ■ -. . 

le  business  of  carriage-huildinij  <^r.'Vi:;ri  r -i-ir.r-T  :"    .  i-    •       .   .       .   . 

open,  he  stuck  to  that  with  ail  h-ar.     I  :..  :.  •   -.v  -.•;-:        _•   • 

He  saw  that  it  was  train-  <'i  w^z  v-ry  ■::-:.   :   •    j  •  .   •-  :    ■ 

Okcar  admirably.    He  saw  that  it  rr.o:;::>.     Vv.  L         .-..■.     •:     : 

aising   the  standanl  of  honor,  h-r:    a-,:    I     ■-,.-■■■     '-.   •.     ':,  -    \ 

indeed  of  life,  of  every  man  en-  th  ■:j:.r  •;:    '   - ..  .:  y . .   -.         --    -,. 

din  the    factory.     He    loc-ked  ?ay   •-..      .*•:;>••;.--    ■<•'.  •.  -r  ■.• 

to  larger  relations  into  whi<:h 
it  bring  them  all  with  the  hx^ 

of  the    north-west.     And     it  B^r:;.^  -. -.- 

of  him  an  efficient   and  viral  wa-   v.-ry   -•.:•:- 

if  the  God-made  order  of  the  were  r.-  ^t-.*.  .•--. 

itum  of  his   time.     So   far  so  arnbiti.i*.     O:.  •? 

F 
I 


?0"  •: 


470 


Up0  and  Dowm. 


wft8  going  dirotigli  left-fights  wliich 
good  Mrs,  Baffum  got  up,  for  the 
pure  and  simple  purpose  of  making 
him  better  acquainted  with  some  very 
poky  niec^  she  had  staying  with 
her^  as  Jasper  talked  his  hardest 
with  Miss  Melinda  and  Miss  Frances 
jMnria,  dragging  up  subjects  which 
they  had  eilain^  and  galvanizing  them, 
and  making  them  skip  and  dance 
again,  only  to  see  these  horrid  girls 
slaughter  them  once  more.  Once 
and  again.  I  say,  did  he  remember 
Bvrtha^s  pleasant  sympathetic  listen- 
ing, her  unaffected  reply,  her  confes- 
sion of  ignorance  if  she  were  igno- 
ranty  or  her  dagh  of  intelligence  the 
instant  she  comprehendt.*d.  When, 
to  make  himself  understood  at  all,  he 
had  to  toil  painfully  through  a  sen- 
tence even  to  the  hard  knock  at  the 
end  of  the  last  word,  and  Miss  Me- 
linda simpered,  aud  said  sentimen- 
tally, *'  I  always  thought  so  ; ''  and 
tlien  when  she  showed  a  moment  after 
that  t^lie  had  not  the  slightest  idea  of 
what  he  had  been  saying  or  explain- 
ingy  he  would  recall  Bertha*s  quick 
intelligence,  cutting  htm  short  when 
he  had  but  just  begun,  so  that 
they  seemed  to  crowd  half  the  best 
thought  and  memory  of  their  life 
into  that  golden  hour  of  Mrs,  Rosen- 
stein  *s  supper-room  kud  parlor.  But 
through  that  summer,  and  until  the 
next  was  nearly  ended,  they  did  not 
meet  face  to  face  again. 

"Did  not  meet  face  to  face  !  "  says 
Miss  Melindi^  —  who  at  this  mo- 
ment is  reading  this  chapter,  with- 
out recognizing  herself,  and  as  for 
Jiisper,  she  long  since  forgot  him, — 
**  Why  it  is  only  on  this  very  page 
that  it  says  *  Bertha  was  with 
him'  as  he  walked.  How  careless 
these  people    that   write  the  stories 


CHAPTER  XVt 


tlM 


AxD  Bertha  ? 

Bertha    had    what 
lar  of  our  oountry 
timer' 

Once  and  again  it 
ble  for  her  to  bear  the 
and  the  great  tyrannies  of 
senstein.  Sometimes  it  setg 
Mrs,  Eosenstein  were  £ut 
indeed,  on  a  generous  ititai 
of  that  word,  she  was  ^  h6 
self}"  everybody  would  k 
willing  to  say  she  was  in  I 
of  pafisicHi.  With  the  chill 
tha  could  cope  ;  although^  aa 
said,  she  lacked  so  often  the 
bad  a  right  to  look  for.  M 
stein  would  bo  away,  and 
would  interfere  just  where 
not.  But  the  children  were 
of  Bertha,  and  she  wa^  vet^ 
them.  And,  as  month  pal 
monthy  it  was  clear  enougl 
her  self-condemning  dis|Kid 
they  were  improving.  Th 
room,  so  called,  was  no 
chaos,  and  they  were  not  i 
any  excuse  to  shirk  their  h 
of  them  were  bright^  and, 
great  pleasure,  each  one  di 
special  tast^  which  ehe 
age  and  direct,  and  by 
could  quicken  a  reasouab 
spect  and  pride. 

It  was,  indeed,  in  the  Ij 
very  accomplishments  whk 
had  used  as  her  best  allii 
and  Mrs.  Euseostein 
worst  battle-royal.  Ckail 
one  mornings  taken  groat 
her  French  and  arithmet 
that  she  might  be  entitled 
for  an  hour.  The  girl  ha( 
eye  for  color ;  and  Bertb% 
a  little  of  the  rudinusntai; 


L'7»  cau'  J/otPn-N 


'i_i«i  uitibmL  iiwij.7  til*  fc.:in»>- 
•T  IjTTlitt-  'Lkliit-  «:uHt:.  Triir:i    All 

'ii-fr-zi  h  item^in  cunit  u.  xt  s;r 
*-   5;.;i*4*^2iK»a-  T.-uint^L   jnr  i« 

Ci.Arj:c»  .'  *iii*  ttu*  iit 
jiT   s5:-i    ^ep:2:l.lu^.    iiir    ziur 

>nr  C'f  ix«r  3ii:iuiitrt  '  I*  b 
!  I:  u  *.:i;^  :iki.  '.  Taiw  f  iibt 
raj-s  r^^r^vrt*.  2t  »  I.  Huunu    ' 

es  as  »>  &  jit^^i  -fH-lii^  iniL 
»7oaza:  2k7  ^:'  ■■j:c;fijiiiin;T;iiii& 
f  datr.  pan^T  :^  liij^T  miwin^ 
CT  by   vLkL  7i/*j»«*  3:iir   !ii:L- 

and  10  ask  itz  ]^:1iT»  ij:  iTiiT 
d  aad  •izav.  Pn:?  B-^ir^iik 
lis  advice,  a*  :1*  Tirr  :»«»n 
he  cocid  giT*.  :-  t^**  -•*ciy»*T! 
1  was  iben  ia ;  ic£  *i-*  £:i.*-v 
as  she  could  £=.:»  vjit  "Li::ir- 
J  presence  of  C-Ari:r:^  ni  -Lt* 
i  was  only  a  wL:zi  j^i  :1?  Lu:: 


lid  Charlotte  rail  is  :a*::^  ■:-?  :- 
presenting  her  re*p-»t.     Sb.<; 

show  any  temper;  Th^  h^i 
•Ter  in  the  first  gaie.  She  r&=. 
er  mother  pleasantly,  caazr.t 
r  hands  and  kissed  her.  and 
dd,  eagerly  a&d  conndenrly. 
ray,  mamma,  let  me  stay  at 
>w !  I  am  in  the  midst  of  a 
prise  for  yon.  and  I  do  want 

done  before  Satorday." 
Mrs.   liosenstein    had    been 
blycEDBsed.     '-Sorprise!  sur- 


m-     r>.i":.ir.i.v.    v-o  ?:j..".   :7Ti"«"»      N-- 

iii-'-".'-ii :■=;:■    ...\.^.   '      Z*;*    TTii-    T^'^r 

•  Viv.  *-..!'";"';.■ '  Srt-L  :ir  ifonr: 
rnuii.     T— Hl:*      •  ■:-     '.oiiys-.     Z    r:il 

TriL  I  V.-.;  v.-Ji;-  nr*  I«.  I"  5-  nur 
"III*  riLTarr*  1  rr^  iaiii:i:ii.  -^  1  Trat 
T'.mi-ui:  :■  iron  «  ri.:t'jr>  'AIs--  ji»«.''in4. 

ffT»'.l.i-  11  lHT-T.-*^2l  nv  illiL  n«'  :illilllT«l* 
lUiL     U'r-^LU^    V'lU     lilUil     liUV    UT     llOnu. 

oiiL  vni  diiuL  iirr  «u'  I  vil  xuL 
IL.M  h'^'yrid  v'lur  I  ziiiut  ic  ::iiu~«. ' 
Tiih  vw  -n*  ui&'.v'*r  ti  .'Jiiuriii-rr.'  t 
{'.uiiitsKaiDi.  j_iiL  ilia,  IftrMfiitKXt!:!. 
«nr  IJiirsmiu.  in  irxis  "^r  jiit  lti«* 
Stii  viz::  ::!im*    :j:»vi.       Tin    mrintfiLi 

:£i-'L"*—  I  *-.i7-:i:rj«*  Z  ici  •;;:  Tiik.-:): 
t;ii  "lii.i.-;  Z  2I.lt  i.kT*  ill.*  .-.krrMOf  "J;" 
r:  i^'i  r.'iT  ::2.7'24i-jL  "^.'c.i  t.v.  r.-t 
prerr?.  K:.?j-  ^livj^rr.  :■:  :i.E7  ::  :>..< 
Li:r:iiz.r.  ici  !ijiT*  ^^  j:;i7  a*  >..■:•,:•>  / 

■arr.i:  «:_ill  tr  i.-r  :•>  i:rr,  I  w/.i 
tiink  v:.;.  M.s*  Sjh'srjrr.  to  ir.ToriVrv 
L.:-  !•:• ::  jr r  '.v i : •-.  ':: er.  0 r  w : : h  an y  ot  i *n o 
ci;;lirrn.  1  h^ve  r.;ul  qui  to  onouh:h 
of  this  impaiouoe.  1  will  not  boar 
it." 

By  this  tinio  Charlotte  was  sob- 
bin  p  on  the  sotk  HortIi:i,  utterly  as- 
touished.  was  not  cui  much  upset,  but-i 
at   the   lirst,   the    absurdity    of    the 


472 


Ups  and  Downs, 


whole  impressed  her  as  much  as  the 

rudeness  and  injuBtice*  But  of  this 
transient  amusemeut  she  showed  no 
sign  ;  she  even  screwed  herself  up 
to  saying  cheerfully,  — 

"  Dear  Mrs.  Rosen  stein,  there  is 
some  mistake.  Nobody  want*  to 
interfere.  i*rayj  what  do  you 
mean  ?  ** 

"No!  nobody  wants  to  interfere. 
Oh,  no !  nobody !  Yet  poor  me  is 
the  only  person  in  the  house  who  is  a 
slave  to  every  one ;  and  my  poor  chil- 
dren, one  by  one^  are  stolen  from  me. 
Julia  was  the  first,  then  I  lost  the 
boys,  and  now  my  own  Charlotte 
turns  on  her  mother.  And  it  is  for 
Miss  Schwarz  to  say  wb ether  she 
shall  go  out  with  her  own  mother,  or 
stay  at  horae,^ — Miss  Schwarz,  whom 
I  picked  out  of  the  gutter.  And  if 
you  please,  Miss  Schwarz,  may  I  dine 
at  home  to-day  ?  " 

"  Mamma !  Mamma !  *'  shrieked 
Charlotte ;  and  Bertha  turned  to 
leave  the  room. 

**  No,  Miss  Schwarz,  you  shall  not 
run  away  from  me,^*  said  the  wild 
creature.  "  You  shall  hear  me  out 
this  time.  I'll  give  you  a  bit  of  my 
mind,  if  I  never  speak  again.  I  will 
not  have  this  interference  and  impu- 
dence. I  will  not  have  such  goings 
on^  under  my  own  eyes,  with  my  own 
children.  1  will  be  the  mistress  of 
my  own  family."  And  so,  —  as  is 
the  law  of  passion,  which  has  its  laws 
as  entirely  as  gravitation  has,  —  she 
wrought  herself  up,  by  expressing 
heriieJf,  from  point  to  point,  till  she 
said  what  she  had  not  the  teast  idea 
of  saying  when  she  began,  and^  in- 
deed, had  never  seriously  thought  of 
faying.  **  I  thought  I  had  hired  a 
servant:  it  seems,  I  did  hire  a  mis- 
tress. I  was  tired  of  her  long  ago ; 
and,  if  she  is  as  tired  of  her  plac^e  as 
I  am  of  seeing  her  in  it,  she  will  not 


The  sooner  she 


stay  long, 
better" 

<*  Mamma  I     Bfamma ! " 
poor   Charlotte    again,  disiiK 
seeing  the  storm  she  had  broi 

^*  I  agree  with  yon  whoU 
Bertha ;  **  the  sooner  the  hett 
I  am  sure,  til  ere  is  no  reasa 
should  stay  longer.^ 

So  Bertha  went  ap  stall 
though  she  had  often  been 
angry  with  Mrs.  Rosens  tela,  1 
she  was  not  angry;  nay, 
even  glad  that  the  end  had  { 
most  without  a  word,  indeed 
any  premeditation,  of  hera. 
sorry  to  go  without  saying  gl 
Mr.  Rosenstein ;  but  for 
she  could  bury  all  thought  oj 
suit  in  the  joy  of  going  ha 
that  she  was  going  home 
having  given  up  herselfi  tha 
no  thought  or  plan  of  hers. 

So  she  packed  her  possessia 
tng  in  the  bureau  drawers  tbi 
gifts,  costly  and  mean,  with  i 
sunny  days  Mrs,  Rosenstein 
pressed  her.  She  did  not  go 
dinner,  but  Christina  saw 
did  not  suffer.  Bertha  was  i 
favorite  with  Christina,  as  wit 
body  else  in  the  household,  ea 
mistress. 

The  packing  was  interrupti 
and  again,  by  visits  from  t 
and  the  boys,  now  togethj 
alone,  and  always  in  tears  bi 
visits  were  weLl  tinighed,  evel 
young  folks  came  in  with  8Q( 
tence  of  firmness,  Sometim 
tha  sent  them  away,  sometifl 
went  away,  because  the; 
ashamed  to  cry  in  her  rooq 
knew  that  a  boat  would  toucb 
pier  on  its  way  northward  i 
next  morning;  and  she  h; 
Christina  make  sure  of 
and  a  carnage  to  take  her 


J^UUTL 


to  meet;  ri     JL  sut  i^Hrsinm 

t  Aem.  ▼hen  *iie  :iti«f«Uift  vjm- 
•fself  aH  the  TiTTntf. 

p  of  the  -znnk  zha  'jolm  iui£nr3f^ 

of  «!ioes.  xzfi  yt'iz  iiie  Jsul  ^r 
I  her  rziiti  so  :z3Airf!i».  i^tii  r* 
were  Irrrie  «:fa.izii:t»  zt  ut^.rjn^ 
aune  an  ontixpet:*:*!  :su3   in  Jer 

She  threw  i-  ocea  iieEs«i:'.  uni 
tosezistein  cam**  in.  viiiim  iiin 
q»po3ed  a  thocLsaui>i  miltfts  xt^t. 
oked  worried.  an»L  An:»*r  !•»  Jiu: 

her  his  hand,  aas  down  211  tIi< 

she  had  jost  cli^eeL  ^  tz  h^ 
it  know  how  to  be^in. 

hope  I  am  in  cinie.  I  'muzoi; 
oa  how  azino jed  I  am.  how  pr> 

I  am.  Of  coarse,  if  I  Lid 
lere,  this  would  nerer  hare  been. 
Dorse  —  yott  see  —  welL  Xi:» 
IB,  I  know  there   is   no   aptjl- 

I  know  Mis.  B«Deen5tein  m^zsz 
talked.  —  well^  like  a  t*>jL  I  aup- 

Bat  she  can  make,  and  shiSl 
,  any  apology  yoa  require.  Xo  I 
I  do  not  speak  —  let  me  speak. 


"Zi:^    x-fF'iu     rr  Tr    ti  •   v  j-«;.    ^*   v   .1 

iirr^   j»**^ii    rr^U'^       ^h-r  3iri  m.-t  !.is 
nt*.    i'''*r  »;ni-e   "zi.s    -rux-ii    .-n  ■:*i^:iJ{. 

•Wf*    -:i:ir   -Jinr^    vts    i.i  -    ri-"-   n   riri; 
!:uH*.    I   'izii:»v   j-.'ii    T'.»i.i£   sr.i  •  !:hcv. 

J.-  'j*a*?r.  I    raa   4i!i:»v  j'.-u   -ffci:   jr.u 

Eerdi:i  jrrkr^d  Tr  "iij*  -js^f :  iz-I. 
"viHn    ill**    .*:*:k.^i.   it:.    ih*i   <ikv  zhjz 

If:-«:kiii  ^-.   "siia   T«:i:r   :I:i'«L  "wi:  w:k* 
•:n  2»fr.  ".:  iziT'.-:!:^  !:**?.     JLz.'i  ?Ct- ":•:•. 


Ai^'i  ■H'^r'ir.fc  stijii'^ 


NAXTTA. 


[See  "Old  astd  Nrw,"  y<T»«iiib«!r,  1571.  p.  330. ^ 

Pbospiciexs  nanta  in  pelagus  per  nnbila  n-xris. 
Inter  pulsantes  iiuctas  tamen  audit  nz  <-Aim, 
Dalcisonam  absentis  rocem.  ant  aa-iire  Tidemr. 
Cari  tintinnabula  rici  per  mare  vecra. 
£t  madiduB  discemit  agros  herbos;ii|iie  mra ; 
Fenom  etiam  snave  ex  prato  viridi  oliacit  ille. 

Felix  ah  nimium  felix  curisqae  solntns. 
Qui  flavos  etiam  crines  ocuI<>S4pe  paellae, 
Cfleruleoe  credit  se  cemere  dum  volat  acta, 
Per  fluctus  pinus.     Ah  demeas  !     Crastinus  ortus, 
Navem  disjectam  et  vitreas  dispersa  per  undas 
Tigna  videbit     Tunc  oblitus  nauta  laborum 
Dormiety  et  sub  ponto  linquet  somnia  vana. 


J.  M.  M. 


474 


American  Poetry, 


AMERICAK  POETRY. 


BY  WM.  B.  WEEDEN. 


**  Coif  B,  Mum,  nugrftte   from    Greece   and 

Cross  out,  please,  tho6e  umnfiodel/  overpaid 

accounts,  — 
That  matter  of  Troy,  and  Achilles'  wrath,  and 

MtiGii&\  Odya^na,*  wanderings ; 
Placard  "  Etimoved  **  and  **  To  Let "  on  the 

rocJis  of  your  snowy  Parnassus; 
Kopeat  at  JeniBalcm ;   place  the  notioe  high 

on  JiLflfa's  gate,  and  on  Mt.  Moriah ; 
The  same  on  the  walla  of  your  Gothic   Kupo- 

pean  eathcdraU,  G^rmim,  French,  and 

Spanish  caatlea  i 
For  know,  a  better^  finesher,  boiier  sphere,  —  a 

wide,   untried   domain,  ^  awaita,  de- 
mands jou." 
Walt  Whitsia^^b  4/ter  AU^  Not  t&  CtmU  OaJ|^. 

*'  With  a  longing  love»  yet  a  look  of  despair, 
And  uf  pity  for  me,  as  she  felt  the  smoke  fold 

her, 
And  flumoa  reaching  far  for  her  glorious  hair. 
Hi^r  ^iuking  steed  faltered  :  hig  eagle  ears  fell 
To  and  fro  unsteady,  and  all  the  ncck*»  swell 
Did  iub^ide  and  rei^e,  aad  tlie  nerves  AMI  as 

dead. 
Then  she  saw  sturdy  Pach€  stilL  lorded  his 

head, 
With  a  look  of  delight,  for  nor  courage  nor 

bribe 
Nor  aught  but  my  bride  could  have  brought 

him  to  me. 
*    .    .    .    And  now  as  she  fell 
From  the  front,  and  went  down  in  the  ocean 

of  fire, 
The  last  that  I  saw  was  a  look  of  de%ht 
That  1  should  escape  —  a  love  —  a  desire  — 
Yet  never  a  word,  not  one  look  of  appeal, 
Lest  I  .should  reach  hand,  should  stay  hand 

or  stay  heel 
One  instant  for  her  in  my  terrible  flight. 
JoAQL'isr  tf  tixKR'a  KU  Car§on*»  Mtd^  pp.  9fiO,  251, 

"  He  weren't  no  saint,  —  them  engineers 
Is  pretty  much  alike,  -~ 
One  vnk:  in  Natchez-under-the-Hill, 
And  another  one  here  in  Pike ; 


But  bo  nerer  flunked,  and  he  neTer  lied : 
I  reckon  he  never  knowed  how." 

Hat's  Fike  Coimtu  BaUadM  t  Jim  Bhtdso. 

Extracts  might  be  given  without 
number  to  illustrate  the   same   idea 


which  runs  throngli  those  wf] 
taken.     It  is  not  the  fault  of  j 
poets  alone,  that  there  is 
a  strange  creature  which  th«  * 
chooses  to  call  falsely  **  Ame 
try."    Kot  their  fault,  we  say ;  i 
gentle  culture  of  Oxfotd 
bridge   is  doing  more  to 
taste  of  readers  of  the  Engli 
than    all    the    frontier    nen 
slang  editors^  and  stnmp 
the   whole   United   States. 
Longfellow,    Whrttier,    and 
have  written  immortal  words^  i 
may  justly  make  the  found 
an  American  School  of  poet 
the  world  of  letters,  these 
well-won  names  hav'e  stood 
American  idea  in  pcietic  expr 

So  far  well  j  now  a  wlnxip  i 
loo  is  heard  above  the  shriek^ 
irrepressible     locomotive, 
voices    resound   through   the 
chords  of  our  English  tongue^. 

A  band  of  keen  observers,  < 
in  the  Bough  coats  and  wild 
the  plainst  half  in  the  finer  j 
of  civilization,  spring  forwa 
pipe  their  new  songs  to  the  \ 
Anglo-Saxon  world.  The 
they  create  with  their  liviiigl 
are  motley  and  mixed  in  ev 
ture.  The  realistic  force 
the  charucterisb'c  points  in  ih 
and  wayward  life  of  the  fri 
mun^ellous.  They  see  so  mo 
an  inteliigent  person  wonders  1 
no  more*  Some  of  the  idylhc  ] 
of  Miller^  for  example, 
with  such  life-like  precis 
colored  in  the  lines  of  prairie  I 
flashing  mountain  waters, 
think  we  have  neared  the  rci; 
of  poetic  power. 


AiMTrjjji  jr''t:r*i. 


Then  he  -ir-p*  inroudr  hitc-  ""i^-    ^l:: 

wne  dirry  iiinie  iL.*:  zra.~--i  "Uii-i  ^iir    j-i 

wnx  th.rir  jr»-tyi  r-xlrrs.  -n-r-  or-^  -:-'- 

Ikii  beanry  and  jrdrr  Ji:::'    a»-uJ.z..x.  -«^ 

■id  vaer«.  ::!■ 

We  shrill  be  3ie7  "T^  "iir  r*-*  ^ut-t  zi:-. 

Ikt  this  is  r«-ai  Ji«i  *z^r-     rL«;  "i.^  t-- 
■Hdev  idea  itry  r^ntifrs  ~i:r  ^r    : 

Aenew  oocntrr.  jmc  ^  -:rr:~.-i    :    -  •.:■- 

phee  in  literarur*:.    x^'ZisZ   "«~r::    "lir  :..: 
■ksu  wqi'jL  r^t  r-  r^:.  '--  -t.  '-    : 

Iks  world's   L:'*:.   Ji    i-I    ."s-    i:--rr_:_j  :.r 

Ph'jti:'Cra*.ii7  ^  Zi  r  .•t'    '■:.«-.■  zl  i*:, 

haoC  tmih-  be*    -^j  •::-  iryj-:.r.:.  ^-  i^ 

XL     If  it   ar  T>:ur>  Ji     r.-    ~  r  'i-r  _:_! 

ons.  and  witii  i'lr  '•'.irr  ~"--   •  j^-  ^  - 

tkuzta  ■-.wn  Piii:^.  iz.«i    u*iL   ■»*•   ^-  ■:,- 

rledged  ae  a  ?;i:-«.r:  -.iir-  rzi'.'^..  i.  -.- 

firt     It  iieT«:r  ;sl:  -.^^v-rafc  .krr  j-  *:-, 

fterer  -ran  !>:  p^'^^r- 
This  apf'iiea  zo  r^-'A.  ."m   pur?-   i:iu 

«  Lie  hiz:.  ::■   - •  t     r    ^-    t-u.     -' 
i  iheT  pi:crur«t.  "iiT    :'  '-l-  1*1-  -ii-'- 

ff"^hoti.-zrapL=  iz.  i  -jrr.-'   -   z^j--?     -  .. 

'  an  idtral.       J^^^  .•IrU.  -r    A  'iMi«^ 

ft:  ii  ia  ntrithrr  ^ne  " .-  iii^-^j^  zliit  ■      "^  ■ 
6-i  life :  II  hae  -»*  Ti^tr   i  -Ui-  x-irr 
of  both,  anjii  rji-    -.:-::iKfc    jr=- 
fiv  ootaidc  md  s7ip*.ri.':i^  ^ 

Ssakspeare  dr=w  -^rr  m   :ium- 
iph  in  daminj  :  f.ri.   ,>^:  i-  :-l 
let  him  on  a  bJl  :  r  ^  ^^:  ^j- 

0  the  whuie  w-.n-i     H-    ih*--. 

not    to    -zozz^jKl:!-!    rt*i'i    iitr:- 

1  th«  real  wryck   if  l^r   -'.ni***   -       J"' 
Hal.  how   ';:i>*ji,7  i.*-   ii^uc^-^fc     -u;; 

fFalstaff  and  hi*  r'^'HT^-r'^j  t»*w 
the    orc^    cf    £a*?r,^-^-^r..   w- 
eun^  to  the  'vtd-:nac-i*-r    .1    ^ 
i^ngkiag. 
Hkjc   vh«&  miandersr/ific    -)j-   « 


»  •—il.     ii-*.*l«:      ^  ■ 


-j.r      .ili:_.j.i 


"  i'l*      !«:#-'        c 


..»•        .*'•*      |U«V«ti««r 


476 


Am&rtcan  Poetry. 


tioii,  the  new  poetry,  that  Mr.  Whifc- 
nu\n  will  have  replace  — 

•*  Tlio  miglitr  world  — 
Now  void,  inanimate,  phnntotti  world  I 
BlMxoncd  with  Shakt*peure'»  puqile  page, 
A  ud  dirgcd  by  Tennyson  'fi  sweet.  Bad  rhyni©  "  t 

Art  goes  not  backward,  except  it 
be  among  decaying  peoples.  If 
Homer  had  known  Pericles,  he  would 
not  hare  drawn  Ulysses  as  the  ideal 
Greek.  He  would  have  made  him 
finer  and  loftier.  The  imagery  of 
Homer  stands  for  all  time  as  the  art 
of  a  simple  ago.  It  is  not  only  real 
art,  it  is  true  art  It  keeps  up  with 
the  best  life  of  the  time,  the  best  the 
poet  knew.  If  be  bad  known  better, 
be  would  have  pictured  better.  He 
did  not  mix  the  worst  and  the  best 
in  sucb  manner  as  to  confuse  the 
looker-on.  His  real  was  subordinated 
to  bis  idoali  which  was  the  beat  the 
Greek  world  had  known.  If  we  are 
to  take  the  life  of  savages  and  half- 
civilized  men  into  our  own  homes, 
and  give  it  to  our  children  tovYarda 
forming  their  own,  it  should  offer 
tbem  no  uncertain  lessons.  We 
should  at  least  get  something  better 
than  we  had. 

If  nude  sculpture  or  nude  painting 
only  bring  us  pictures  of  disease,  or 
an  immoral  fancy,  better  banish  them 
altogether  from  refined  life.  The 
purity  and  simplicity  of  the  antique 
sculpture,  and  not  their  mere  naked- 
ness, have  kept  them  the  models  of 
all  art  in  every  age. 

Mrs.  Miller  tells  us  that  "  Myrrh '' 
and  **Even  So"  were  produced  by 
their  sorrow  and  separation.  From 
the  first  wo  quote  ;  — 

•*  I  aet  my  face  for  power  and  place. 
My  6oul  is  toned  to  sull^nnesi ; 
My  bonrt  holds  not  one  sign  or  trace 
Of  love  or  trust  or  tendemcis. 
But  you  —  yoar  yearift  of  happincse 
God  knowe  I  would  not  make  them  ]eu/' 


This  is  worse  than  bad,  it  i> ' 
It  matters  not  whether  it  is  an  < 
rience  or  a  mere  fancy  of  tho 
We  are  dealing  with   the  Ottii 
would  be  au  artistt  vith  tb  < 
would  set  up  fals<»  images  of  ur  ,  u 
with  the  rough  mim  of  CNugon. 
is  his  ideal  of  life,  to  which  r^ — 
call   the   attention  of  all  th' 
readers.     A   more  selJisb  ego 
may  search  all  printed  pfigee  r 
and  come  back  empty-handed; 
ish  in  that  it  is  so  petty.     £go 
is   common    enough    in    all   art, 
there   is  always   put  over  ai: 
some  strong  motive  to  give  it     ^ 
Patriotism,   lofty    ambitiozi,  eani« 
devotion  to  duty,  mistaken 
right,  or  other   great  passiim«. 
associated  with   the   sub] 
of  history  or  of  imagine      -      i 
is  an  author  who  would  have 
and  power,  hence  sullenly  ab 
home  and  family,  and  goes  into  a  i 
country  to  write  aentiinental  pic 
of  diHering  lovers,  abaodoo^d 
and  Indian  trulls  tending  bas 

'^  In  M«-9liell  cmdles  by  the  bon^^ 

Are  we  not  paying  dear  for 
delicious  word-pictures  ?  Can 
young  country  afford  to  glorify  i 
characters  as  **  Kit  Carson,"  and 
hero  of  "Even  So''?  The 
thing  American  in  this  develo 
of  Western  culture,  is  the  frank  1 
in  which  the  whole  (story  15 
That  is  a  feature  which  we  miuft 
is  national.  The  Amerieaiu 
shown  in  many  ways  that  tliny 
all  the  courage  and  endunmeif 
belongs  to  the  Angto-iMkXoa 
Taine  well  says,  "that  ^'  ' 
hero  is  approved  in  a  fl 
but  the  Saxon  is  titnmi  f^< 
falters  rather  than  m^' 
of  a  brave  man."  The  mind  ttia 
866  no  petty  oowazdko  in  ah 


American  Poetry. 


477 


Bi  own  for  selfish  power  and  place 
I  not  American,  it  is  simply  half- 
BTflized. 

We  know  a  wag  who  was  wont 
bD  apostrophise  ''that  noble  entrail 
idled  the  heart."  There  seems  to 
be  in  these  wild  heroes  an  organ  as 
iUiqae  in  its  action  as  that  charac- 
tarized  by  our  friend.  Jim  Bludso 
lerer  flunked  and  never  lied.  No 
kaits  of  character  in  themselves  could 
le  better  than  these.  The  intention 
if  the  author  is  not  to  make  tbis 
dmple  affirmation.  The  poetic  theory 
M,  that  within  this  violent  man  there 
s  an  endurance  and  a  love  of  truth 
letter  and  more  heroic  than  the  quali- 
les  of  ordinary  men.  By  as  much 
IS  he  falls  below  the  average  of  civii- 
ation  on  one  side,  so  does  he  excel 
ton  another.  Tiiis  great  bursting 
leart,  not  to  be  restrained  by  the  usual 
Mmds  which  long  ages  of  experience 
uve  woven  round  us  common  mor- 
ids,  yearns  for  a  grand  opportunity 
vhen  it  may  rise  into  heroic  deeds. 
Scorning  prosaic  duty,  these  heroes 
Hieribh  mighty  passions.  The  fancy 
if  the  poet  sees  these  fierce  impulses 
■orking  out  in  courage  and  trutli- 
hlnessy  greater  than  the  original 
bee  of  the  man.  Those  who  saw 
Ae  conduct  of  the  city  roughs 
nd  ruffians  as  Zouave  soldiers, 
rin  know  just  how  much  this  fancy 
h  worth.  From  our  observation, 
i  Bayard,  a  Sidney,  or  even  a  pro- 
nie  John  Howard,  is  a  better  fel- 
imr  on  the  forlorn  hope  than  any 
BhdBO  whom  a  sentimental  fancy 
caa  picture.  The  best  husbands,  the 
bttt  fiftthers,  the  most  honest  men, 
VBthe  best  trust  and  reliance  in  a 
tndal  time.  Any  theory  to  the 
(Ratery  harms  the  American  youth, 
jtA  wrongs  the  civilization  that  is  to 
Udiie  this  western  world. 

We  have    not  discussed  Mr.  Bret 


Harte  among  the  others,  and  the 
omission  was  not  without  purpose. 
Tiiough  he  brought  this  kind  of 
writing  before  the  world  of  letters 
and  of  art,  lie  has  not  kept  pace  with 
those  who  have  followed,  and  often 
imitated  his  happy  invention.  We 
could  not  apply  the  spirit  of  our  criti- 
cism to  his  work.  We  are  not  writ- 
ing from  the  moralist's  stand-point; 
but  we  gladly  say  that  wo  recall  no 
instance  where  he  has  wilfully  put 
virtue  for  vice,  or  dfli berate ly  set 
forth  the  bad  as  if  it  were  good. 
Very  kindly  has  he  treated  his  Mig- 
gleses  and  his  Oakhur«»ts ;  yvt  he  has 
not  completely  turned  the  tables,  and 
tried  to  make  us  all  into  the  same 
kind.  His  *•  Heathen  Chinee  "  owed 
much  of  its  sudden  success  to  the 
genuine  app(»al  it  made  to  the  inner 
sense  of  justice  in  the  popular  mind. 
This  had  been  smothered  and  over- 
looked by  the  people  in  treating  the 
whole  question.  Hence  the  satire  of 
"Truthful  James  "  struck  home  even 
more  forcibly  than  his  humor.  1  larte's 
own  title  to  this  piece  is  signiii- 
cant.  Plain  language  and  truth 
are  dear  to  him,  we  believe.  We 
look  for  better  work  from  this  truly 
original  man  than  he  haa  yet  done. 
The  same  men  who  first  overpniised 
have  turned  a  battery  of  chilling 
criticism  upon  him.  This  will  do 
no  harm :  his  stifier  wings  will  bear 
him  quite  as  strongly,  quite  as  high, 
if  they  do  not  carry  him  so  fast,  as  the 
California  pin-feathers  flew. 

Mr.  Whitman  works  in  a  different 
vein.  The  realism  of  the  Eastern 
States  fills  him  with  a  strange  scorn 
of  tlie  ideal,  and  he  gives  us  curious 
images.  Industrial  life  is  his  inspi- 
ration, poetic  figures  are  his  forms  of 
expression.  Chivalry  and  the  cotton- 
gin,  the  sphinx  and  the  steam-engine, 
are  all   tumbled  together.     The  pic- 


-."^M 


478 


American  Poetry. 


tare  is  kaleidoscopic,  brilliant,  and 
bfoken.  It  is  worth  attention  not 
for  lis  merit,  but  for  the  notion  that 
it  embodieay  and  which  affects  man^ 
people.  There  is  a  general  feeling, 
that  the  rush  of  industrial  life  in  thu< 
century  will  create  another  literaturei 
with  a  fonn  of  it^  own,  with  an  ex- 
pression di^Terent  fjtom  any  the  world 
has  known.  In  some  mysterious 
way^  the  mind  is  to  jump  forward, 
and*  leaving  the  atmosphere  of  letters, 
^d  itself  free  trom  all  the  bondage 
of  tradition  in  an  indostrial  world, 
where  scieace  is  to  he  the  inspiration 
«ltd  mechanisiit  the  expression  of  life. 
If  this  were  possible,  common-sense 
would  «ay  that  the  mind  would  last 
in  such  a  state  just  as  long  as  a  fiy 
would  exist  in  an  exhansted  receiver, 
and  no  longer.  Our  machinists  never 
think  of- this,  never  see  that  their 
own  maichines  or  inventions  are  de> 
Teloped  by  alow  and  gradual  atepa^ 
That  the  machine  always  follows  the 
idea  working  steadily  through  many 
minds,  and  link  by  link,  knitting  up 
the  experience  and  fancy  of  many 
lives  into  one  strong  and  con  tin  nous 
diaiii.  The  theory  seems  to  be^  that 
the  machine^  ouce  created,  can  turn 
upon  the  idea  that  gave  it  birth,  and 
dominate  it.  Or  that  the  indostrial 
Itfb  growing  out  of  the  use  of  the 
maehine  has  a  power  superior  to  the 
life  that  went  beware*  Given  a  print- 
ing-press, what  need  have  we  of  the 
Musea. 

«*OilHepr*fl  esll  IbTnw  ekMed,  —  Clio,  Md* 
iHimtniiS  Th4tlU.  dosed  and  dead; 

Sealed  the  »ut%4jr  rikjrmei  of  Cns  lad  Orisiu^ 
Ended  ibe  qaMt  of  the  Holy  Gran.*' 


Somewham  in  the  elank  of  the 
print tngM^y]inder  there  is  to  be  a 
spirit  more  potent  than  any  drvii 
Somcwheru  in  tht^  rattle  of  Iha  mow* 
**^l(-tiniiliine    tluTo     U    a   ntmsiG    tkat 


the  world  shall  yet  hear^  sww*<*i] 
any  note  of  Pan,  and  t;^ 
footfall  of  Certrs.     The  [^i...  ... 

of  reaching   this  paradise  h 
literature  as  such.     ^^ 
when  the  lives  of  ^1 
ton    lie    open     to    the    ardtr 
Why  keep  men  poring  over  t 
sics,   ancient   or  modem,  i«l 
laboratory  is  at  hand^^^t 
fresh  wonders  greater  ■ 
umphs  of  Vulcan  or  Jupiter? 

Here  19  the  answer:   as  the 
is  to  the  soul  of  the  individtJAl 
so  are  letters   to  the  inspfrr 
the  poetic  fancy,  to  the  ac<^ 
perienc*,  in  short,  to  the  In 
of  the  race.     Crush  out  th^ 
erature,  or  the  methods  by 
is  retained  and  renewed^  and 
yon  wilt  reduce  man  to  th^ 
animals,  whose  souls  just  ^ 
run    their   bodies.     Then  y 
new  creative  force  will  have 
itself,     It  could  create  :-    ' 
There  is  no  new  print 
trial  life;    nathing  that,  like  A»i 
rod,  shall   absorb  all   other  ltfe«, 
is  a  result,  and  not  a 
the   wants  of  men  art 
pressed  and  better  snp|^> 
were  five  centuries  ago,  tt  ii 
follow  that  man  dtfiTera  &om  the 
David,   Isaiah,    Dante,   and 
speare,  embodied  in  imi; 

There  is,  in  the  tou 
a  needle-^ n   which    MUton 
have    seen   in   his   day.     Be 
have  known  the  steam-engine, 
swaddled  in  the  Mar([uis  of  Wi 
ter'a    hands.     Suppose    he  h 
voted  his  whole  powers  to 
investigation  of  these  inn 
other   industrial   machinery : 
the  world  have  gained  by  this 
gToT!  of  ^nrn^  ?     MihoD  b 

shall  alwi; 
L..  ...„.  .^  ...^  ^^^tnries.     The 


4 


American  Poetry. 


479 


oiy  will  yet  find  an  equal  When  poets  of  the  order  of  Tennyson, 

>f  its  peculiar  forces,  jast  Morris,  and   Bosserti   beud   us   back 

nteenth    embodied   itself  our  West^rm   rarjg*rr?i   with  fir»t-rat** 

?rful  man.     Man  is  great-  reputario:^  all  made  for  the  Ameri- 

mass  of  men.     The  fiow  can  public,  it  behooves  u.^  to  \xi(\\i\r** 

an  soul  into  the  reservoirs  into  the  gro'-nda  of  their  ju'lgrn'jnt. 

dius,  will  go  on   by   the  TLese   new   siLgers.  they   p!ea»e   to 

>ls  it  has  always  pursued  call  Amerjcu: :  w:.::e  our  great  lightH, 

J  men  began  to  develop  the  Lowell.    LvLgfeliow.   and    the    rent, 

ag.  man.      Neither  steam  tLey  fci'.':--  a^  I^z^z^W:.-     If  Mr.  I>jw* 


or  electricity  can  chazige 
e  metho<i  by  which  G>i 

finer  fruits  oat  of  ma::. 
ire  of  many  fancr::-:.*. 
hole  round  of  kLvwle^lr-: 
.  we  come  bai:k  inv.-  tLe 

term,  genius.  This  si-ir^i 
es.  but  her  dearr-:  L:«:i.e 
imagination.  Jj^rr,z^  :- 
.s.>me  stU'iies  azki  rzytr,- 
no:  made  the  rr'.ar.'^Lj  :c 
bmte  ai:y  clriTrr  tLjsi 
sketched  iLen  n.  tl-* 
isn." 
ri-:  pTocesj.  dr.*  a^*  r:  2*. 

as  it  is  :o  all  *^':^L-;."r:_ 
lot  g»»d   er-ocri  :.r  -!•* 

ili'iTii'riil  ki'i  -r^j-AT-t-i 
.  tr.e  m->ril  i-in:?-^:   :c  'l.-. 


e^.  r.is  wr.tVrL  ::.e  great  A^igJ'^Sax- 
'.i.-X:n:.a:L  v.'irae  ia^.^my  rhari  any 
l:~:i.z  >tr»:c  d>»*  ;•.  f'j.jj^  'A  u*rrAi^ 
*::t    -il*-:     be    i»     L:'/:     Ar.'-er>;arj  ? 

-rr':.  «>.-...  •.:.*'.".  eirj'.f^e.'j  ■*>.;#  ?.he 
1.  ".■'■.■!Hr  y  -. TiiiL  1 :  -  :j e  n- :<,  -y^e  v  ;ra .  i »-'J 
*:.T  -i.r:  gn.:-":.  He*.7»nr  •N-r-*.- :'.*':  ,'iea 
:=^  vj-r:  J  *  '•rrit.-.  i*  A  J?*«rri*Arj-  >/«it 
*:*»*  u;is>e  3L.r.ir*^c    :*.   ^^^rvf^rr  yr/y/r- 

fr-c  ii*nr  ti,:   itv-vt^:   *vvf  «*■*  *     7>*e 

Ifc*-     Hit-     11-11>t:     -,.V^C       4..'.     -.•>«!      ?*>rf. 

TTii'  Lt"**  r'-O*'  ""^^ '.•!•*. .  .i  :.y  »v, -'i 
••r  i.  :i',»t"      T:  '.v.t*.'>:r'<   .v/*  *•*:.•   ? -* 


1  '^iTs-^LJ  j   '.nil:—:    '7 

r*:'^r*r*"     ;      «.■.»■,    ■:    #   «•■■•, 

s*j  -Ler  *-.rZ    i-T:i..T.  i,-- 

Vt  *"•:  i'^V'T  -. -.ru"  -.:.*••••   t»  i  •. 

rs   a-nniiz.   r.  l.j.r'   .r: 

y.-'i,    vi..-  :.i    i.H    *v:;"*:rtK, 

:=:iAi.*5   "-^   irt  irrrrr-: 

j'.'^  M--     fc:,:    iu-.»-»     r^...   » 

:eTi<r  Liir*.  iT.  -»L*   ••tj*r  *t- 

"•.»*■:.—       />r«i'.i»'j   v.*  *• ;.  .  1 

r<iit  IJ-t,     Iz   ti**   v'Ji.": 

•'*",:. 'ir.:>sC    V ->".'*     •.    v.*i'  -1 

lenel:     .i    ^»*    i , •!•■::.? 

•Jill    ;i.i*!j»     ■:     :  *.  u     •.•;»_•    ■..<:■ 

o'.-rr  'iraj:erj*st  x  i^l-zivi- 

-  .''.i*«.»V..»      *i\Ai>r'^tL'        -y      x{ 

:r.:o  tl-e  *7->iC.  '.:vi^-«  iv:- 

v..   »-.»»:    ■.»*    I .»'-^- .»' >■■ 

■if::r»r    ::  ':i-*    -  '.irnL.^ 

-ii*      tUi-'.i-      V    '.      ■...- .-      '.  .. 

'  wLa-  ii^niy*  "ij*  iku  '  ••:. ' 

.»:•;    *  V  .    V  .»-^:f     ••.*-.    %'i' 

:  i  p-rf-.rs. 

•  'J. I*    ^••'•-•■^•••♦'rt'.  ,i>.    ■,.•■•*  J- 

si»:k  •:€  tiui  -^-ii-.!  ^".i 

i:-.>"    i."      v'li.     ''.H*'.      ■■•.i.'«. 

r*gs-      Tlu»     r!aiO*r      iia ; 

i.«''.          .  iiJU--*      lliu'i"     «     i^«. 

we  art  ww::::!^  *T3»r!:r.i 

j:  -■■>?-  ■;        3'."i*":t,  •   1.;; 

ir>d*ci. 

;i::r.!ii;j    :  i,   ;n  ::    17   «#^j.    v»- 

■   t*>  o«ir  ±r»n  3mn#iH;r:i;ii. 

''^'  liii    1  j.-*»^»-;  *•       .-•  t^'  .m  •■ 

»:*   of    •'ol-Tiaift    iii'.i::uiit 

Hii   i?i^.?;    .,1    -.It    UIUM4    .»'    .  , 

iTOOg  mit  La  rauH  juur^r. 

"^  Vlirt^^V      fc-'JU- .^iVt      };v\\u 

■■■•/ 
■■•/,■ 


/»■/." 


■  /. 


■y     y^^'^f 


480 


All 


ovtjr  all  his  work.  His  "morning 
drum-beat "  will  endure  when  the 
English  empire  is  broken.  His  whole 
life,  in  fact,  was  a  poem.  Kotwith- 
stiiuding  the  statements  of  fiery  mor- 
ulistji,  tliis  generation  begins  to  see 
that  Webster's  real  work  was  to  ed- 
ucate a  people  to  the  knowledge  of 
the  underlying  principles  of  this  gov- 
ernment, the  germ  ideas  of  his  time. 
He  did  it,  dying  broken-hearted. 
Without  his  life,  or  one  like  it, 
we  should  have  had  no  Union  after 
8umter.  Greater  ideas  than  these, 
even,  haye  been  embodied  in  this 
fruitful  time.  The  exile  at  Chiftel- 
hurst  has  connected  his  name  with 
another  brief  poem.  He  used  the 
**  irresistible  logic  of  events,'*  whether 
he  invented  it  or  not  Is  not  this 
terrible  force  in  modern  life  akin 
to  the  fate  that  drove  tlie  Greek 
drama  in  an  iron  round  of  destiny? 
Not  the  same,  but  similar,  working 
in  a  different  civilization,  in  different 
timea,  among  different  peoples,  it  ex- 
presses an  idea  quite  as  deep,  quite 


as  fearful,  as  the  dreadful 
the  olden  time. 

In  Lincoln,  we  see  this  giatid 
ma  tic  element  bringing  forth  p 
and  victorj.  Sometimes  it  gr 
hira  to  the  earth  in  agonvt  but  h 
fused  it  M'ith  a  faith  th&l  fii 
prevailed  over  it  Lincoln  «i 
American,  but  his  faith  wu  i 
than  Saxon  :  it  was  He  brew-,  J 
in  its  strength  and  simplicitrJ 

Here  are  poems  alreaidj  i 
yet  to  be  writt^en.     We  veot 
thoughts  diffidently,  for  the  i 
is  serious.     It  is  akogetht^r  m 
the  flippant  ideoa  that  prevail  oi 
much  of  the  literature  «  ' 
try.     When  the  favored 
comes   who   shall,   with   st^eing 
read  these  lives  of  the  Am^iiei^ 
roes,  he  will  give  us  the  true  pi 
of  the  New  World,     Tl; 
bits  uf  realism  will  melt  i 
ble,  like  crude  and  broken  gbtt| 
worker  will  be  genius  \  he  wiB  1 
forth  only  crystals  of  truth, ; 
will  be  shining,  fkir,  pore. 


ALL. 


BT   FHANCIS   A.    DDRIVAGE. 

There  hangs  a  sabre,  and  there  a  rein, 
With  rusty  buckle  and  green  curb-chain  j 
A  pair  of  spurs  on  the  old  ^my  wall, 
And  a  mouldy  saddle,  —  well,  that  is  alL 

Come  out  to  the  stable  ;  it  is  not  far. 
The  moss-grown  door  is  hanging  ajar. 
Look  within  !     There's  an  empty  stall, 
Where  once  stood  a  charger,  —  and  that  is  aQ. 

The  good  black  steed  came  riderless  home, 
Flecked  with  blood-drops  as  well  as  foam. 
Do  you  see  that  mound,  where  tlje  dead  leaves  fall  ? 
The  good  black  horse  pined  to  death  —  that^a  all. 

Alt  ?  0  God  !  it  is  all  I  can  speak. 

Question  me  not,  —  I  am  old  and  weak. 

His  saddle  and  .sabre  hang  on  the  wall, 

And  his  horse  pined  to  deatli  — ^1  have  told  you 


®i)e  €xam\nn. 


CRITICISM. 

seem  appointed  by  Nature  two  orders  of  beings,  counter- 
to  each  other,  —  the  producer  and  the  critic.  The  object  of  ttiis 
1  is  to  say  a  few  hard  things  of  the  critic ;  if  it  be  that  they 
rae,  it  may  be  profitable  to  him. 

e  do  not  doubt  that,  many  times,  the  critic  acts  in  good  faith,  and 
ly  endeavors  to  weigh,  in  the  even  scales  of  literary  justice,  the 
iet  of  his  criticism;  but  there  are  many  elements  which  can 
busly  add  themselves  to  tins  honesty,  and  distort  it,  ofu^n  un^ 
bgly  to  himself.  Envy,  hatred,  and  malice,  and  bitters  of  this 
will  get  their  alijuid  amari  into  the  cup  which  the  critic  immam 
I  the  public  for  pure  appreciation  and  judgment.  But  the  chief 
t  to  be  noticed  is  the  want  of  real  juxtaposition,  real  relationi 
ten  an  object  of  art  and  its  critic.  They  l^elong  to  diff<;n;nt 
itions  of  mind,  and  only  touch  at  the  wrong  points. 
hen  Emerson,  in  those  delightful  lines  aaid,  — 

*^  Whj  tfaoa  art  there.  O  riraJ  of  tbt:  mut: ! 
I  nerer  thoogiit  to  aak.  I  XM:ver  kikew ; 
Bm  in  mv  simple  iziioiniK.-e  scpprjw; 
Tlie  seipfljune  power  that  broa^fat  mk  tbr^nb.  Iatiu;;^:  jrou.** 

e  Rhodonu  which  he  found  so  hard  to  a/;co'jrit  for,  a^nd  n/liSiinA 
leb.  was  there,  as  far  as  we  can  see.  Ilk.':  all  the  ^^^ut.ifu]  fiowriK 
u   for  a  surprise  and  delight  to  tiic  oe holder,  a^.  ■»,  ^iiOu.'J  nlr/t 

the  critic.  But  the  one  is  the  sioil  wLL'^L  t;**-  ki.vj.y  -/t-umr. 
e&.  and  beauty  spring  from  lie  tou'.L  iut  *:i^-ja,i.\k,  flowf-nn/, 
KTtive    order  of   mind.  wheth*:r   ii   v*:rv:.  rr.-j^,.'-   ui    ^,j:Kuifv.  \ 

the  soil  of  the  critic's  mliid  ie  'joaiparstii ;>;.;.  y/.-ri/v  Air*'J  nn 
ished,  knowing  little  of  thr:*»e  arr-ir^'.wr,-:r  •/  v:*»:  rrii^Jfin  of 
:t,  that  fall  along  the  pathfe  of  ri:**^!.  vinr.  i:**;  »rri';riis.r;',rii»rfii,  wfi'J 
rv  of  the  Rhodora  in  the  wcioc.  H*:.  -.}  t  lii.>^.  .r;v**f«.'/fi  of  « 
m  which  should  be  hum^l*;.  s'"a:p«i:::A*:--»'^.  fj^'>rj,i'.. v»:.  f.r*'!*-.  \i\iti 
fa  true  critic*  in  oppugnaxicy.  i;tj  .  ^v*:l  fc-iji-ir.-.  :»'»:•....»/.  i// 
[ft  of  heaven ;  he  cannot,  wiit  ::i*r  :#*.--  .:.  :.i.-  li^rj^j  ,«  iiiJt';*  •// 
itand    to  how  Terr  iiieri'Jir  a:,  or^r  '>!   ixi-.'i'^i^.  s.*:    z*;.'/!.//  *»#; 


482 


TJie  Examiner, 


compared  to  the  producing  ones.  From  the  begiunmg  of  fl 
has  hficl  his  trick  of  solemn  judgment,  founded  upou  if 

riority,  wlien  in  truth  there  is  nothing  of  the  sort.     ^_   id 

this,  that  in  the  great  days  of  criticism, —  the  days  of  Jefi&w,  ji 
tosh,  and  Gifford,^ —  the  great  English  quarterlies  were  caughtl 
demnation  of  the  masterpieces  of  their  time,  from  Byron  Xm 
always  holding  themselves  with  app<arent  honesty,  as  VSk 
Rhadamanthus  dooming  some  trembUng  culprit.  It  does  ucl 
comfort  us  to  know  that  while  one  line  of  Keats  outlives  tfl 
derous  judgments  of  whole  Edinburghs  and  Quarterlies.,  thai 
the  trick,  must  still  be  forever  recurring  ;  nor  has  it  decreasea 
time  and  our  country.  While  there  is  here  a  good-natured  i 
of  acceptance,  not  criticism,  which  we  believe  Mr,  Emensoi 
called  "  the  mush  of  concession,"  there  is  something  pral 
painfully  so,  in  our  attitude  towards  received  masterpieces,  1 
opera,  not  a  singer,  the  delight  of  nations,  can  visit  us  witfaoQl 
ing  under  the  caudine  forks  of  these  solemn  judges.  If  ■ 
were  to  present  us  with  a  new  picture,  or  Mozart  with  a  nel 
Giovanni,  our  bench  of  judges  would,  in  the  most  serious  ■ 
de  novo^  with  heavy  prejudices  against  the  probability  of  meil 
sidcr  the  claims  of  such  benefactors.  1 

No  one  can  mistake  us  in  saying  this.  We  do  not,  of  coursd 
that  there  is  no  such  thing  as  sound  criticism,  or  a  lund,  wl 
learned  critic.  The  very  existence  of  such  a  body  of  lill 
proves  that  it  is  not  there  without  cause,  and  to  the  satisfndl 
men.  Astringent,  and  even  harsh  criticism,  is  not  unfrequena 
corned  by  many  as  a  reaction  from  that  national  amiability* I 
well  worn  with  frequent  use,  too  often  ends  in  weakness  andj 
debility.  An  air  of  victorious  sabring  has  sometliing  of  d 
of  battle  in  it ;  and  this  also  delights  us  without  much  conol 
the  poor  fellow  who  is  cut  out  of  his  saddle.  But,  for  all  tfl 
sul>ject  of  our  remarks  has  nothing  to  do  with  favor  or  dl 
kindness  or  unkinduess ;  or,  at  least,  this  should  be  so.  If  qh 
were  more  often  done,  as  \vm  that  lately  by  Lowell  of  Shall 
by  the  competent  hand,  sympathetic,  tender,  yet  severe,  tb<a 
ence  would  be  easily  distinguished.  There  is,  perhaps,  no  I 
difficulty  than  to  separate  the  allojr  of  dross  from  the  gold 
runs  through  the  immortal  lines  of  many  a  famous  poet ;  1 
present  the  gold  which  remains  as  truly  gold,  is  harder  than  i 
demn  the  whole  as  worthless.  See  the  lapidary,  that  cUsm 
critic  of  some  of  the  most  magical  beauties  in  the  casket  ofl 
Nature  ;  see  how  he  places,  when  taken  from  its  matrix,  whi^iil 


Trt€  ExamvMT.  483 

tlie   sleep  of  ages,  wlen  rzif  tzri  irTzdi-lri  t?  &  ::•:::. trj  :#oet. 

Axnond  or  the  rnVr. :.:.  -wLiil  It  rr^^  £.  i''.-l^-^i  tL.  i  -.■:_:  lL:"*-* 
>ectator  to  see  iLe  5ile:-i:r  tUlI  -a-Li-  L:iir-  r!l  z.:?-.  H'.w 
"esses  it,  with  iis  fill  ljll  ■►^It  :f  r-i-^i-iilLr  n^rr^i-l.  "i_  t.*  .ii?: 
ioli-i-iioor  shines,  tbe  szaz  :-f  ^^r  -nr^i  '  I*  .r  ii'-:  -..•'..  il--.  «  :.o 
h&t  SKaispeire-  ti.r  K:i.— :-i!>:r  ::  '  zr  v  rlii  .:  z_^i.  r'^ri  L*: 
»wed  not  a  lirtle  to  tie  rT-ZLTJi-iL-i ,.  rT^rrr::_T  irr:L.--::_r:>-  ::.-■  !;«&• 
from  the  criric-s  :f  Ei^:Lz:i  s-iii  >er-.k.t7  T---  -.r:.i-.-_  & 
the  movenents  ■::  1^  ^^i^je^:^  —  i  "iii-r-  ."-■='.-'"  '■_-  :''-.^-_:- 
make  11=  ileas-ri  ^r-jii.  ::zr=rr>rr-  7-«t:i.  tt^  -l.  -.il^:  r-r  :.*;■.£: 
ithin^  in  conn-c-i-  ii:t  :i-7  t«-ii:.  -.i.^  rr^«-:  :•  *-.'..  ■■_'  i.^  r"*2fct 
cs  also. 

!  CTiticisra.  t-erlirs-  i-:-::!!  :e  f— :■_*  _~ -l-.  ^•.  -t-  pu-^^r.  •■■:.  v:*^ 
the  imperfect.  nl^=iL.THri-  l:li  jl  .  zl'.-. '■',-:  --  •'.-  "  -.ll^  u—..r  -.■•' 
Uand  on  the  I'tler  ^ir'-T  ■•-—-:'  -j_l;-..  -.l-  -j-*-  i  -^-t  -.-..^j  :ifc-'> 
jht  to  live.  It  ri-ri:  "-te  TT^  "^i^-  il  .-v^  1  -i'  :.\r  .■■:  :-..-  ..-**: 
jht  be  haiiiei  :~er  :."  ilt  '-riiL-ir  zl-:"-.-  ::  •  *::--  #•:'-'.  *-■  '-rtl^. 
tlie  ciexerest  ne-  ^jlz:.L  r==L.L*  t.-._  — iz-.l 
In-and  cheri?-i  ti:?-e  ic  tite  'i.-tt  i.^-.  -:-'  i^.-» 
eirth.  aniaekizir  i:*  i^L--.-  -  -r  _.-.  --  -.---r 
t  the  nontier   :f   =^.-  v  ••£■    t-  •_■     :.  .-  -^   . 

bblc  TTrik-e;-?   -s-^-i  -•    -  •     .'■.".. .  .—       .     ■  .' 
e;  bat.  a:  l-si.--  -Lt  -?-  r..  -^  _.:.-..  •-    .   ■-  - 
'e  sa-re-i-  n:r  t-..:i_i  ,-  _:..^.-  -_■  .:    :..- 
Ijinz  so  ofte:^  fr'-~    '.:.r  l-~  r*--        -r-^'  ■         .^■.  ■ 

lar?  irL::'-  ^'yL^i  Li.^-  ■ — rt  ^i  1.     - 

^erLit-i  tie  tr-  -  1-  zl.-    -.   :-...    -  .-■  ■ 
aded  T^itl  £  ;:jni^i  :.-■:-:-:_.    .  .      .^-:■. 
it  words   if   till.:  ^ru^'^n-::- .      T  ■      --•    ■ 

ll  Lis  crjTi  ■:   iir--ru-^    r«r.- ■ . 

*  Fsrreiiierrri  -.'    r  c—   -...-.-    ^-^ . 

tTt^<iv  •    Iieca—   LIi'_    ZiL. -'*".i-      -"..      .J  .•      ... 

a  fixe-i  =t2j" :  ''IT  'T":.-:-.   •_>-■.-.-         -■;"'.    .   -- 


D«er  in  ::i*r  fcTi'    ■     :- 

;  rh^  tTTie  Zir:-  '"li"      l*i- '  ■ 

bees  Lit-  '.^tit  i*-  ii . '  'it 


^ 


484  •  Answer  to  Liddona  Hampton  Lectures. 


ism,  is  more  often  at  the  bottom  of  both  the  favorable  and  i 
ble  criticism  which  so  displeases  us,  than  we  might  suppose. 
But  plainly,  as  our  belief  in  God  and  man  deepens,  as  the  i 
gi'owth  becomes  more  masculine,  when  we  learn  fioully 
ourselves  and  our  convictions,  then  this  element  of  proir 
will  disappear,  It  is  already  disappearing  fast.  Thos«! 
remember  the  sensitiveness  of  the  American  of  forty  yea 
criticism,  like  that  of  the  new-born  babe,  must  notice  the 
we  have  acquired.  Not  only  in  criticism  of  ourselves,  but 
direction,  our  skin  is  toughening.  Criticism  no  longer  will 
one  coddling,  for  another  malicious  personality.  The 
sensibUity  and  pride  will  give  us  the  criticism  we  long  for, 
we  are  gaining  so  fast. 


k 


THE  ANSWER  TO  LIDDOJTS  HAMP- 
TON LECTURES.' 

•  Few  books  on  controversies  in  the- 
ology are  so  interesting  as  this  badly 
named  volume.  Besides  being  a 
learned  and  skilful  discussion  of  the 
subject,  it  is  (jerviided  by  an  unflag- 
ging humor,  which  enlivens  the  vig- 
orous dissect  ion  of  Dr.  Liddon's  pon- 
derous volume. 

We  hear  much  now-a-days  of  the 
Divinity  of  Christ;  and  it  is  a  satis- 
fSEKjtion  in  reading  Liddon's  Lectures 
to  have  no  doubt  what  he  means  by 
this  term,  "  Divinity,"  which  ao  many 
among  us  are  using  in  such  a  loose 
and  ill-defined  manner.  He  says  he 
does  not  use  the  term  as  some  do, 
who  "assert  that  Jesus  Christ  is 
merely  man,"  *'altiiough  of  such  re- 
markable moral  eminence,  that  he 
may,  in  the  enthusiastic  language  of 
ethical  admiration^  be  said  to  be  di- 
_^  vine,"  or  as  others,  who  in  a  vague 
^B  and  fractional  way,  so  to  say,  speak 
^f  of  Christ  as  sharing  in  at  least  a  part 

I  of  the  supreme  Godhead. 

m  Dt*   Liddon  moans  by  **  divinity  " 

^^       definitely  **  Deity,"  and  asserts  in  no 

I        J. 


I  An  Exiktdtntirfon  «f  C»iioa  Liddon*!  BMnpWn 
l,^^cturt*9on  iir  .ifour  Lord  uid  Say loui' 

J««ut  Chrlnt.  .  ym*ti  of  the  Churob  of 

Ktiifliind.  tttt*;  ...   ,....iv,  Browa,  ACo.   IW8. 


equivocal  manner  that  ChHf 
God,     In  the  preface   In 
edition  he  says,  "  Of  the 
cussed    in   this    book,   th^ 
which  has  inrited  a  largef 
attention/'     **  It  is 
ment  for  our  Savit 
is  based  on  hia  persistent  M 
tion.'' 

^^A  man  mnBt  either  b« 
self-jissertion  on  its  one 
tificatiou,  by  accepting 
faith  in  the  Deity  of  ChrUt 
arc  those  who,  by  God's 
no  doubt  on  the  sabjoct 
Godhead/* 

'^  The  great  qneetton  of  on] 
whether  Christ  our  Lord  is  < 
author  and  founder  ■'*  -^  *-''■ 
which  another  bein . 
arate  from  hlnif  nnr 
object;  or  whether  *l 
self^  true  God  and  troe 
tlie  Father  and  the  Hoij  uii 
object  of  Chrtdtian  ^th  and  I 

An  answer  to  thi«  im|H 
tion  may  bo  sought  fur  t 
sacred  records  aJoiiet  as  thny 
from  the  resrarchfs  of  a 
more  radical  criticism ♦ 
the   historical  records,  but 
forms  of    knowledge    that 


OaIaUaju,  Boniiuit.     Jgw«fi. 


486 


Answer  to  Liddon'n  Bampton  Lectures, 


reaUy  belie vea  in  tke  Beity  of  CHrist 
or  not ;  he  only  considers  the  ques- 
tion whether  the  doctrine  is  clearly 
tanglit^  or  necessarily  or  probably 
implied,  in  the  Scripture,  Mr.  Glad- 
atone,  in  his  work  on  **  Ecce  Homo/' 
like  many  others,  confuses  Christ's 
declarations  of  hi^  Measiahship  with 
that  of  his  Deity ;  hut,  in  view  of  the 
sceptical  disposition  of  the  times,  no 
friend  of  Christian  truth  should  claim 
more  for  the  record  than  can  fairly  be 
proved  from  it, 

"  The  Messiahship  of  Jeaua  la  every- 
where the  moat  characteristic  feature 
tliroughout  the  New  Testament ;  and  has 
never  beeu  qtiestioacd  as  the  great  fact 
of  priuMtive  Christian  history,  except,  in- 
dee  d»  by  the  unbelieving  Jews*  Can  the 
same  be  said  of  his  alleged  Deity  ?  Has 
not  this  been  denied  and  controverted  nl- 
inoat  from  the  first?  and  does  not  Mr 
Gladstone  himself  admit  that  it  cannot 
he  said  to  make  its  appearance,  except 
perhaps  in  obscure  implications,  tbrongU- 
out  the  synoptical  Go-^pcLj  ?  Jesus,  then, 
a»  the  Cbrist,  is  undoubtedly  sometimes 
spoken  of  in  terms  which  could  not  be  ap- 
plied to  ordinary  men.  It  does  not  follow 
that  he  is  God ;  and  03  such  the  evange- 
lists never  represent  him.  It  follows,  sim- 
ply, that  he  is  the  Christ ;  and  we  know 
how  he  himself  said,  and  how  every  state- 
ment of  the  New  Testament  on  the  sub- 
ject declares,  that  whatever  he  was,  and 
whatever  he  had,  he  was  an*!  he  poa- 
868sed  hy  the  giving  of  the  Father  who 
«*  sent  him," » 

To  all  persons  who  sincerely  desire 
to  gain  the  true  meaning  of  the  gos- 
pel wordsj  we  would  heartily  commend 
this  volume  by  **  a  clergymen  of  the 
Church  of  England."  It  would  seem 
as  if  every  text  that  had  ever  been 
imagined  to  suggest  the  Deity  of 
Christ  was  here  examined  with  care 
and  learning  and  iiiirness.  His  quo- 
tations from  Dr,  Lid  don's  argument 

»  Tlio  Bible  And  PojHiUr  Thwlogy.    O.  Tanoe 


ate  copious^  and  both  aidei 
fore  well  represented  even 
alone.  It  is  seriously  and 
written ;  and  even  those  w 
agree  with  ita  conclusiooi 
a  knowledge  of  the  other 
may  be  useful  to  them  ai 
the  many  doubters,  who, 
not  to  be  repelled  by  igi 
demnation  and  scotUi  m 
with  intelligent  sympathy 
epace  to  give  but  very  £ 
tiona  of  the  contents  of  th< 
We  presume  most  person 
of  the  claim  of  exemptiq 
necessity  of  clearly  stating 
of  the  D^tyof  Christ  on 
of  its  mysterioLisnes^,  as  tl 
touch  the  question,  either  < 
or  whether  the  sacred  wxil 
held  it  or  not.  As  our 
says,  ^'  If  JesuB  be  indM 
mystery  of  his  being  op| 
baMes  the  understanding,] 
to  definite  and  distinct  sti 
the  fact  of  his  Godhead.' 
three  distinct  subsistences, 
Liddon,  **  which  w©  name  I 
and  Spirit,  are  strictly  J 
with  the  truth  of  the  IKiJ 
And  when  we  say  that  jl 
is  God,  we  mean  that  tl 
Christ  Jesus,  the  second  c 
sons  or  subsistences,  one 
with  the  lirst  and  with 
vouchsafed  to  become  inc 
he  robed  his  higher,  pre-< 
tore  according  to  which  he 
Eternal  God,  with  a  huma 
a  human  soul,"  If  this  b< 
rather  than  a  confused  oonf 
is  a  mystery  which  ehouli 
definite  and  unerj-  \ 

plainly  infallible   >      ,    ^ 
^^  the  clergyman  of  the 
England  **  suggests^  "  if 
pelled  to  confess  each  pfl 
hj  himseif   (singillatim] 


Vicw^tiosk  to  tiie 

followed  ta  the  *^lSxami* 

admits,  ^^li  is  mdeed 
tlukt,  of  our  Lord^g  contexn- 
mftny  applied  to  him  the 
4»f  God  on\j  as  an  official 
of  the  Messiah ;  while 
it  to  aclmowledge  that 
paad  peffect  character  which 
Jevos  of  Nazareth  to  be 
wiio  had  appeared  on 
showing  forth  the 
IS  of  our  heaven]/ 
1  tie  precise  reason  assigned 
fce  for  the  title  is  the  mirse- 
exceptional  wmj  in  whicli 
llghtf  cmoseA  his  concyftlott^ 
,  JLiilcIon  liad  strmuourfj  ac^ 
Son  idmticaJ  witli  tbe  I^ 


and 
Godhttd^ 

explanationa,  < 
loirs :  — 

''<Whjr  calleoi    timi  m^   good? 
None  is  good  ezoo|il  OM^  Hwl  as,  CWL* 
(Matt  X.  18  ;  Luke  rriii.  la) 
The  Spirit  of  the  Lotd  is 

me,  because    he   hath   anointed  .^ , 

kc.  (Luko  W.  18, 19  ;  oomp.  Matt,  xii 
IB.) 

"'  Of  tbal  daj  or  that  hour  koowetli 
no  one,  n«itber  the  augelM  in  hearen, 
i|or  the  Sofi,  bnt  Iho  Father/  (Mark 
xiii  a^f  mnp^  Malt  uir.  a6»  and 

Ttsirw  any  right  band, 
*»ui«ae.   ill- 


488 


JS^ss  Saunders's  New  I^oveh. 


I 


my  left  is  not  mine  to  give,  except  to 
those  for  whom  it  has  been  prepared 
by  my  Father/  (Matt,  xx,  23 }  Mark 
X.  40.) 

"  *  My  Father,  if  it  be  possible,  let 
this  cup  pass  from  me  j  nevertheless, 
not  as  I  will,  hut  as  tliou  wilt.*  (Matt. 
xxvi,  39-42  J  Mark  xiv.  34-36  j  Luke 
xxii.  42.) 

"  '  My  God,  my  God,  why  hast  thou 
forsaken  me?'  (Matt,  xxvii.45;  Mark 
XV.  34.) 

"  *  Father,  into  thy  hands  I  com- 
mend uiy  fipirit/    (Liiko  xxiii.  4G.) 

"  *  Verily,  verilyj  I  say  unto  you,  the 
Son  can  do  nothing  of  himseli^  ex- 
cept what  he  seeth  the  Father  do. 
I  can  of  my  own  self  do  nothing/  &c. 
(John  V.  19^30.)  <I  do  nothing 
of  myself;  but  as  my  Father  hatli 
taught  me,  I  speak  these  things.' 
(John  viii.  2S.)  *  The  only  GodJ 
^  That  they  may  know  Thee  (Father), 
the  Onhj  True  God,  and  Jesus  Christ 
whom  Thou  hast  sent.^  (John  v,  44, 
xviii.  3.) 

*My  Father  is  greater  than  L* 
(John  xiv,  28.) 

'  Go  to  my  brethren,  and  say  unto 
them,  I  ascend  unto  my  Father  and 
your  Father,  and  to  my  God  and  your 
God.'    (John  XX.  17.) 

*•  Tried  by  the  rules  of  human 
morality,  these  sayiuga  are  conspicu- 
ously untruthful,  unsincere,  and  de- 
ceptive, if  Jesus  knew  himself  to  be 
the  Father's  equal,  essentially  and 
truly  God,  and  if,  further,  he  de- 
signed his  own  utterances  should  be 
ingredients  in  the  revelation  of  his 
nature.  But,  if  he  knew  himself  not 
to  be  God,  these  sayings  are,  in  their 
natural  sense,  and  with  their  inevita- 
ble suggestions,  simple  intelligible, 
and  honest."  "  Looking  solely  to 
*the  language  which  Christ  actually 
iiBed  about  himself,'  and  taking  it  as 
Uieirgufficient guide,  Protestants  have, 


in  reason  and  candor,  no  dl 
but  to  deny  that  he  ifi  God' 


MISS  SAUNDERS'S  NEW  H 

Smugglers'  life  has  alwi 

a  f ru  i t f ul  sou  rce  of  tu  i 
legends  are  current 
the  Kentish  cuti^l,  of  tiie  lij 
by  which  the  hardy  **fpeiH 
defied  the  old  rcvenuc-lawi 
land.  It  is  in  such  a  dreid, 
such  materials,  that  Miss  % 
Saunders  has  given  us,  \xioU 
little  books,'  a  powerful  pi( 
varied  human  passions. 

The  narratorof  theatorv.  Q 
^*  Wolf"  Weir,  yielding  Ixh 
promptings  of  jealousy,  agaia 
he  has  long  struggled,  Wta 
brother,  and  succeesful  rival 
to  the  revenue  officer,  wbcnj 
wounded  in  a  recent  fray.  ! 
brings  upon  him  the  hatn*< 
community,  which  ia  iijcrei 
after  by  the  discovery  that 
to  the  prisoner's  window  In 
wrenched  apart,  and  that  a  i 
body  lies  on  the  rocks  behiw* 
as  a  leper,  the  heart-broken 
wanders  on  the  beach»  in 
hunger.  Ins  lish  \-  ■  '  "  ' 
hut  is  burned  at  i 
sympathy  from  a  travelling 
he  accompanied  him  on  Ki^ 
Africa, 

Ten  years  pass,  and  the 
turns  as  a  minister  of  the 
find  his  aged  father  shel 
cared  for  by  the  maiden  he  hi 
in  youtli.  Ho  is  forgiven,  ai 
stated  as  son  and  lover ;  bul^ 
of  his  marriagi?^  thi*  cup  of 
is  dashed  from  hisHp«  by  tl 
ance  of  his  loug-moumed  ti: 
it  seems,  escaperl  from  |tri 

t  QJdcoii*i    Itoek.      »f  Il__, 


Other  IToceh.  —  Other  Neno  Book«. 


489 


Sauily  lie  rteaigns  his  bride  to 

r  »ther,  and  conse* 

I        .  r  of  his  life  to  liia 

or. 

ftlieroat^,  quickly-^uccec-diiig 
i>f  riTal  hatred  and  brotherly 
%m  momeutary  triumph  of  the 
mi  inn,  and  the  terrihle  remorse 
tk«  ootcast  feels  at  the  ex- 
-^"--*ion  which  follows,  are 
1 1  the  Tigor  of  a  charcoal 

tjLAil  yet  with  a  delicacy  and 
i#^-  which  will  draw  tears  from 
ra.     Another  buok  *  of  the 
auLuur  has  merit,   aod  is  more 
CFUj;  in  length  and  complexity  of 
Bat  me  cannot  speak  of  it  with 
ttatl^facticm*     It  i*  the  story  of 
long  deTotion  to  the  aged 
if-ui  .\  friend  whom  he  had  aoct- 
Pj  killed.     The  acene  tslaid,  as 
Mna'aKoek,"  in  Kent^thoof^h  in 
Pb  Yfllagt ;  and  the  <]Q}et  hits  of 
^ttteiyt  asid  graphic  deliii€«t>oii« 
|iiBe  ma&Den  and  local  p^eiilf- 

KII9  lo  atspeet  that  Hna 
tes  of  h«r  home  and  tta 
.  liiatnthe&tlifidMM 
!••  deft^Tpcioiifly  and  the  ^ttaini 
pof  aome  of  her  minot 
lamrritorihehoaic 
be  atonea  ^ve  tiieir  watBbm  m 
nbnt  muocMF  tha  nffiuTT 
[day.  In  her  cjniet  pi€t«x«a  if 
[Ilia  die  will  thioir 
Ibtle  of  Uiai 

great  aHler  of  the  ISimA 
Yodciittie. 


Vxm.  By  Katharine  S.  Macquotd. 
Harper  Brothers.     A  pn?tty  i<tory. 

BaBNABY    RlfDGE     AND     KdWIK 

Droob,    New  York:    1),   Apptuton 
t&Co. 

IbllSTBESS    AND    MaID,        By    MfV. 

Craik*      Harper  Brothers.      Oao  of 
the  most  charming  of  her  Itoriet. 

JoHK  Jasper's  Sec&xt.  T«  B. 
Peterson  Si,  Bros, 

Wilfrid  CoMBBRneDE.  By 
George  KacDonald.  C.  Bcrihner  h 
Ca 

Poor  Misa  Forca.  By  Wilkie 
Collins.  Harper  Brotliers.  A  rery 
ingenious  and  entertalnitig  vtory, 
which  has  won  many  readois  in  tha 
"  Bazar.'' 

Bshe's  Cbabity.  By  HiMbu 
Sd^tton.     Dodd  %i  Maftdo. 

Two  Family  Moisnu.  By 
Hane  Sophie  Scfawwta,  LaeftSbep- 
aid. 


OTHEB  VEir  BOOKS. 

BKAmva  wfTBOUT  Tkamu     By 
theairthoro<''P«cpof  Dsy.''  Ilerptr 
P^sWUr  the  best  book 
ften^EttgliA, 
wMitfcefii<|rfis«  of  PM  Ze«lio^% 

ittce  Mnu 
llithar,  CltaiW^ 


OTHKE  BOTEU. 

AnzKicJur    B. 

Idle. 
G«Ais.     By  B.  L. 


lAG^: 


.r.II»WMi  Tot* 

4  Ci«.     A 


490 


Other  New  Books. 


book  of  sensible  sermons,  wbicli  de- 
serves a  better  title* 

Shakspeare's  King  Henrtt  VIII. 
Edited  with  no  tea  by  William  L 
Kolfe.  Harper  Brothers.  This  is  an 
exquisite  handy  volume  series. 

Voice  Butldinq,  By  Dr.  H,  R. 
Streeter.      Wliite  &  Goullaud. 

Christian  Theoloot  and  Mod- 
ern Scepticism.  By  the  Dake  of 
Somerset  D.  Appleton  &  Co.  One 
of  the  most  important  books  of  the 
day,  thou gli  so  hrief  and  simple.  We 
are  obliged  to  reserve  till  May  our 
full  notice  of  it. 

The  Land  op  Desolatiox.  By 
Isaac  I.  Hayes,     Harper  Brothers. 

Mission  IIidge  and  Lookout 
Mountain.  By  B.  F.  Tayloe,  D. 
Apple  tun  &  Co, 

God  with  Us.  By  Alvah  Hovey, 
D-I>.     Boston  :  Gould  *&  Lincoln. 

Eecollections  of  Past  Life. 
By  Sir  Henry  Holland,  D.  Appleton 
&  Co.  A  very  entertaining  memoir 
of  a  distinguisbed  man,  who  has  had 
remarkable  opportunities,  and  has 
used  them  well. 

Meister  Karl's  Sketch-Book. 
By  C.  (r.  Ltdand,  T.  B.  Peterson  & 
Brothers. 

Legends  of  the  Pateiajichs 
AN^D  Prophets.  By  Rev.  S.  Baring 
Gould.     Holt  &  Williams. 

Passages  from  Hawthorne's 
French  and  Italian  Note-Books. 
Two  volumes.    J,  R.  Osgood  &  Co. 


Jesus  Christ,  His  LifE  a 
Work.    By  E.  de  Presseuae, 

latod  by  ^Vnnie  Harwoofl.   0 
Lanahau. 

Pillars  in  thr  Tejip] 
Rev.  W.  C.  Smith.  Carltuu  i 
Iian.  A  volume  of  hiogap 
laymen  who  have  been  of 
guished  service  in  the  II 
Church. 

Public  a^td  Parlor  IU 
Edited  by  Lewis  B.  Munio«. 
Shepard.  Mr.  Mun roe's  ?i 
gives  him  excellent  opportafl 
the  compilation  of  snch  a  vok 

Leaves  from  the  Booe 
TURK.     By  M.    Scheie  tie  y^ 
P.  Putnam  &  Sons. 

Light  on  thk  Pathway 
LiNEss.  By  Rev,  L.  D.  ! 
Carlton  &  Laoahan. 

Woman  as  a  Wife  ajoj  I 
By  Dr.  Pye  Henry  Chavj&ssQiJ 
Evans  &  Co.,  Philadelphia. 

Best  Reading.  G*  p.  Pn 
Sons. 

Holy  Land,  with  Gu 
Europe  and    Egypt.    By 
Phelps,  D.D.      a  a  ChateJli 
Haven. 

Logical  Praxis.  By  Hi 
Day  .     C.  C.  Chatfield, 

The   Land   of  thk  Vj 
Rev.  William  Butler,  D.D. 
&  Lanahan. 

Threes  cork    Years    j 
YOND.     By  Rev.  W.  H.  Depiij 
ton  &,  Lanahan, 


fmt  3rts, 


C^THE  MAIKISKAS.* 
Indeed,  it  InibonwI^nBe   ani  bfti  oohw  Is  Tak 


iodl  if  I 

me  at  Draadeo,  Wt  of  vImm 

y»ii,iuidlbririLie&  its  ] 

it  it  b  lA«  arjg^uuii  ^ietfiin^ 

BOfduig  totifeem,  tfccpAiBtzBf  svm j,  Mt  m 

bretd^Q  giUcvf  »  ta  ^  i^  apnat  H  ■— ag  tha 

btiie  rmak  of  m  oopf,«ad  a  rerj  tki^  and  nrhara  vfca  cmmt  to 

I  mt  tliAt.     HciK,  tie%  if  t^  iL 

ema  be  sabiitMitbtedt  10  a  Hm  pietera  is  evideatlj  a 

ait  QptiQ  wfikli  the  endia-  fCaaai^  irni^Tt^i  ia  fHiiilaMial  af  a 

atoiiea  has  beea  dinMni  iw  BMida  ta  Aa  Vspa,  hj  aai»  af 

[Ij,  «rliic1>  Kaf  laidfid  aD  aaeJaeai Meyer'' sub HaaBa,'''«te 

p  aad  which,  instead  oihmg  wm  taigMWMUr  of  Batle  fioai  15IS 

artistes   best    prodoctioii,  |i>  1^^     It  fefnateiita  a  gnoop  of 

be  eattrelx  unvoctli/  aC  dtteeadalteaadtbiee^ildreiiylae^ 

ng  and  stasfi^g  beioca  tfie  Jaadoo* 

'  iP    BCMBB    SrtBCf  Bfluly    COOB  In^flC* 

trcatbe;  Pe^tr^t  4Mitarit>-  t'^OTlkc  liaf«,*  «o CBOei,  pntehlf . IhM fell 

Miltioiv  *•  Boitoe  JUt  Oak  Blrtm>(«f  CtetmiV  ilMAlvfSiMiicr  of 


492 


The  Battle  of  the  Madonnas. 


iia.^  The  figure  of  the  man  on  the 
left  of  the  observer  is  the  burgomaster 
himself;  the  two  female  figures  oppo- 
eite  to  hira  are  either  his  muther  und  his 
wifp^  or  elae  a  deceased  first  wife  and 
his  then  living  second  wife ;  while  the 
other  figures  represeot  his  children. 
The  custom  of  representing  the  dead 
and  the  living  together^  in  tlio  manner 
indicated,  although  Btrange  to  us,  was 
at  that  time  not  tiucommon.  That  it  is 
the  family  of  Jacob  Meyer  whom  we 
see  here,  and  not  the  family  of  Sir 
ThomaiS  More,  as  was  supposed  while 
the  picture  was  in  Venice,  is  evident 
from  the  original  studies,  and  from 
the  family  portraits  of  the  Meyers, 
etill  preserved  in  Basle.^ 

But  whatever  differences  there  may 
have  existed  about  tlio  interpretation 
of  the  picture,  —  and  there  were  great 
onesj —  all  were  agreed  as  to  its  beauty 
and  value ;  and  every  thing  went  on 
smoothly  for  the  Dresden  Madonna, 
UEtil  there  loomed  up  the  dangerous 
rival,  now  known  as  the  **  Darmstadt 
Madonna,"  from  tlie  place  where  it  is 
owned  at  present. 

All  that  hpjsit.lv elf/  known  of  this 
second  picture  is,  that  it  was  brought 
to  Berlin  about  the  year  JS22,  by  a 
Parisian  art-dealer^  named  Del  ah  ante, 
and  that  it  was  bought  either  directly 
from  him,  or  through  his  brother-in- 
law  Spontini,  by  Prince  William  of 
Prussia,  as  a  birthday  present  for  his 

I  Tlie  picture  In  Dresden  bos  been  en^rnved 
■e%'erHl  tinifs.  Tlii'  bept  known  and  most  m<?rJlo- 
lii>a»  e>ngxaviag  U  that  by  Morltx  8tclnltt.  It  hua 
ftlso  bt^en  Htbof^mphed  by  F,  ETanfattiiigte  mid 
by  C.  Koch.  A  fimall  bat  excel  I  en  I  etching  U  to 
be  found  In  Jnllui  Hiibner^a  BUder^Brevier  der 
Drcudfncr  GQllerle^  Outllnoa  an?  givtn  by  Mrn, 
Jfttne^iou,  Lrgcndfl  of  th«  J^fodcmnm,  p.  102,  fourth 
editiun,  and  in  Monuments  of  Artt  pi.  84,  fig. 
a.  Woodcuts  can  be  senn  In  Fabcr's  Convcrsa- 
tJofit-TjPxleon  Air  bfld.  Kunnt^Tol.  111.  p.  &6,  in 
GmUng'ii  Geichlchte  der  Makrd,  vol.  I.  p.  304, 
in  Or.  W.  Labeke'a  History  of  Art,  vol,  11,  p. 
340|  of  tbe  i{>coml  Engllsb  edlLioQ,  nad  fn  ntimL^ 
KMifl  *>(ht^r  works  on  art. 

\livA  and  portffilta  are  to  be  fbund 
^  carbon-pbotographi,  Xoft.  15  to  10 


01  L  . 


culleotion. 


wife ;  the  price  paid  for  it  Wftj 
twenty-fire  hundred  or  twenl 
hundred  thalers  (about  eigh:e4 
dred  to  two  thousand  dollar* 
Of  its  previous  history  ah 
nothing  could  be  learned*  Th 
(which,  however,  is  not  as  old 
picture  itself)  is  ornamented  w 
coata-^f-arma,  of  which  we  §\t 
more  anon ;  and  a  piece  of  papei 
upon  the  back  of  the  pictun 
the  following  English  inscripti 
to  be  written  in  character  jkjo 
the  commencement  of  oar  o 
''  No  82  Holy  Family  Portnwl 
These  two  circtimdtaoces  w< 
ouly  ones  which  could  be  loolu 
some  clew  to  the  history  of  the 
for  Dclahante  ap[H3ar^  to  ha 
a  sealed  book;  and  when 
Fechner  of  Leipzig,  the  aui 
several  treatises  on  the  Madoa 
tion^  caused  inquiries  to  be  I 
Paris,  he  wjis  informed  that  IK 
was  juat  then  upon  his  death-b 
taiiily  his  books  ought  to  bai 
some  details  of  his  connection 
picture;  but,  whatever  thesq 
were,  they  have  been  withhek 
day.  From  the  possession  of 
of  Prince  William,  it  pass<>d 
of  her  daughter,  now  the  Prin 
"von  Hessen  und  zum  Rho 
took  it  to  Darmstadt  with  her 
It  has  its  place  in  one  of  tlu 
rooms  of  the  prlnceja,  but  i 
to  visitors  daily  between  tvvi 
three  o'clock. 

At  first  sight  the  two 
would  appear  to  be  identic4U| 
if  judged  by  engravinga  a 
graphs.  But  closer  compm 
reveal  the  fact,  that  thero 
a  number  of  important  dil 
First  of  all,  the  Barmstadt  i 

*  Ttita  pletara  baa  bifon  ptiQtefra| 
drawing  m*d«  by  Prof  K«l»lnc  0f 
An  Dulltne  It  ^tvcn  In  A.  vmi  ^Ubn^ 
atodur  JSiompler    der   tiQ>| 


494 


The  Batth  of  the  Madonnaa. 


Dreatlen,  while  it  is  light-blae,  but 
turned  lato  a  green isb  hue  by  the 
old  varnish,  in  Daraistadt 

Immediately  upon  the  first  app^jar- 
ance  of  this  second  picture,  its  great 
importance,  and  the  interest  attaching 
to  the  question  of  its  relationship  to 
the  Dresden  picture,  was  recognized 
by  Aloys  Hirt,  professor  and  member 
of  the  Academy  in  Berlin,  who  first 
brought  it  into  general  notice  in  a 
work  published  by  him  in  the  year 
1830*  In  this  work  he  speaks  of  the 
pictures  under  consideration  as  fol- 
lows: "The  two  paintings  are  so 
superior,  that  it  would  be  difficult  to 
give  the  preference  to  either,  and 
consequently  to  take  the  one  for  a 
copy  from  the  other,  A  repetition 
by  the  same  master  is  all  that  can  be 
thought  of.  But  it  would  be  a  difficult 
matter,  even  for  the  most  expert,  to 
decide  which  of  the  two  is  the  copy* 
Ail  that  we  appeared  to  perceive  is 
this,  that  the  painting  in  Berlin  is 
treated  with  more  freedom,  and  in 
some  of  the  heads,  especially  in  the 
group  of  the  women,  with  more  power, 
than  the  one  in  Dresden/^ 

This  ia  the  first  bugle-blast  in  the 
battle  of  the  Madonnas, 

The  next  attack,  made  in  1845,  by 
Franz  Kugler,  the  celebrated  author 
of  the  "  Handbook  of  the  History  of 
Art,"  was  already  holder.  Although 
Kuglcr  recognizes  in  the  head  of  the 
Madonna  "quite  a  peculiar  cliarm^  such 
as  we  can  hardly  find  in  any  other  Ger- 
man picture,"  he  still  maintains  that 
there  is  something  modern  in  it  which 
accor<ls  ill  with  Holbein;  and,  reason- 
ing further  from  some  technical  ine- 
qualities, he  comes  to  the  conclusion 
that  the  newly  disco  veered  painting  is 
the  original  As  to  the  cliaraoter  of 
the  Dresden  picture,  he  is  aa  yet  unde- 
cided, and  merely  ventures  to  advance 
it  as  his  opinion,  that  it  mif^ht  be  a  rep- 


etitioiif  executed  by  Holbem  i 
assistance  ofoOitrs* 

The  rival   picture  wns  n«w  ^ 
ning  to  be  more  genen ' 
as  Kugler's  attack  cou:_„.  . 
sinuation  that  the   Dresden 
might  noi  be  an  original,  tii« 
of  the   latter  were  aroused, 
battle  waxed  hourly  hotter  and  1 

One  thing,  however,  all  fio 
peared  to  agree  upon,  this,  na 
the  Darmstadt  picture  ha<l  jost  I 
to  priority.    The  reasons  for  lli 
ion  were  based  partly  upm  t<* 
considerations,  partly  upon  dli! 
in  the  composition.     Among  t 
nical  considerations,  which,  is  { 
ter   of  course,    we  cannot  j« 
liere,   the  most  weighty  app 
be  the  discovery  of  a  number  t 
meniiy  i.e,  changes  inttvjduced  1 
artist  himsel£     Thus   in   th« 
fitadt  picture^  the  rigl>*  hand 
lower  child  has  apparently  six  i 
which    peculiarity  ^  is   expUiO 
the  supposition  that  the  artiste 
the   position   of  one   of 
and   forgot   to   paint   out 
Anoi\\QT  p€ntlmenh\  which,  if] 
beyond  doubt,  would  be  alme 
sive,  is  said  to  be   observable 
figure   of  the  kneeling  gi] 
original  study  for  this  figur 
to  be  seen  in  the  Museum  at 
the  girl   is   represented  with 
hair;  while  in  the  painting  UieJ 
put  up  in  braids.     The 
hair  is  of  a  reddish  hue  in  \ 
Xow,  it  is  said  that  in  the 
painting,  there  can  be  seen  an  i 
tion  of  reddish   color  uuderlyil 
those  parts,  which,  if  the  \ 
painted  as  shown  in  the  d ran 
be  covered  by  the  hair.  Con 
the  artist  had  first  painted  tlit] 

^  In  the  drawiDf  by  Prof.  Febln|,  1 

"  Wo.  4a  of  Braa&'e  Ba*le  Doll«!tio». 


n^iii     tiimiAT     i-r     -:-^r?-r*    :  ::        r^^ 

.  he    pvtiUTt-i     •■. :     :  :      -:*-:  ^l  z  — 

tioi^t^L    ~i»^      ifj^— ^!*rf     T..  .  ■•  ~     :t: 

w«r.       -^iLU    ^     :.=     ii"^T  I-  ■     T. 

ist  rr^=5*ti-ii     5-    .11    211..-       --  .  -*^     :      _ 

3o«r*  ^t:!  ncijt-m-*. -•!     -m^:.-^    :..;.      :   .    ■ 

s  ©#f7>-r:  ,/»-'?irT     UT-    rij-r.::::..-        —      i.-    : 

1^  Oil    h   >«Mr«r    liiru-^--    nt-»-     ;ijr—  ...::■..       :..--; 

fcfr  .ii^rr-'rc.' '•-.-*    :i    in*   v. nm  ■•-:::■:.      — ^    ::.■■"'—«" 

e  acir»T':'"«*«i  irf  titit:-  cr  "it-  ur  v.:—     r .-  ^- 

ike  Dar::^.^-!*:":    i»i:tti:— ,    i»— jaii-  .     i^ :     z^..     -  .r    '  — 

b    extc^ji'T"-*     Li.-.-^!ru- •■»!::-     l.:-:     )—        ■■■-•v.,    -■-.    ■  ..:.•-  .     ..■ 

■e-^  m:  l-r-Asc   lz  zn**    "rin»*  v«    ii*--     n!-   _::.:  ..    .  .. -^v  .i. 

r    »peak:n.z    ■:■: — ''"'•*7    v*!r*     ■■.):-     ;,    .-   j-..^..:--   .,:..    ..      .:-  — 
Hed  to   !>*    i-n.z"}^'*  ii'-*'-i'i   T-iii.'iir        _:_—■:•  --..  :  ^- ::  -..   .»  ...:-■ 
t^e  di»e«aci:i2T:.:.:i*.      T;  r-;:u;t"~    ir-i.i^    li*  - .     :;.  .^  ..       »..     x  .. 
fee  the*e    d:-'rr»r--:»r4 :    '.'.*    l^-iir-r?    lii.-^f-:.     ;.:■.     -::i-      ■.•■  ■  ■.:....  ^  ■; 

tile    Dre:?*k:i     'r.irzTr     iz'z     ::. -r*     ;.:.--:.     1\~    :••  ■;.  \  :... 
IBefaL  the  gr*;-ar:=.z  i--?  i^?  :r:vi-L     t,:-  ■•  ■-*-■  ,   -i*  :.,-:  ■  Vi.--,  ..  ■  .    .:i„ 
I  elder  of  the  two 'w^:— r-    'z.i^i'.:rn         Ii  l^"    jil-     "    r:  ...i.    j  ■    :  -     . 
t  enormous    head,  the   z^.:-?    ::   :  •  f    :":  f    j  :  ".*:    2*1  •■;:.;.        ;..-    •        ,i  ». 
idonna  i»  sweeter  and    inrr-r  ZzZl:-    I.?:.-!  l  w   :l   .  ;    .:I  1:1:.      .1 
fe^  the  architecture  is  no:  ?•:  r-riTT.    :.—   :'  -.   r..>-  :  ..  :.  ....     ".  •- -^  ■ 

ii,  being  raided  up  higher.  d:r^?  l::    t:  Tur:    * :  :,.  >  .  .  ;  - 

■■i  up'in  the  heads  of  the  kneel  ir.g    it.z    <■''    :":i    >..r    -■;.■:    .'\i  . 
|fefes.  con:i:::u>.  "T'  :>•..:.. 7;    >   • 

BDm  fact  that  some  parts  of  the  hrld  to  Ih»  H.^:v  :,'s  •..•,-*:::. 
■feHlen  picture  are  not  quite  as  care-  thi-  worKl  has  i»«\  ::  :>-\\;  :.  \-.  •; 
Ply  pain te«l  as  the  corresponding  fnmi  ilu»  iiiNTi»»r  hm*.  :;:..':•...:  :..  .r 
I  of  the  Darmstadt  picture,  wau  copy,  in  tin*  Pn'MUM  i J,i. "..■■.  \ .  w. ;; 
accounted  for  by  supposing  known  nut  of  (Ji-rmany  tlM-.«;:::!i  ;ho 
Holbein  in  repainting  and  im-    fine  lit ]in;^r|-:ij)Ii  nuntn  tVniii  ii  t>\  \\.\\\. 

ring  his  original  conception,   had    fstacn^l. 
Rtbo^e  pans  which  he  did  not  care        ^*  N<»w  tli:if    I  li:ivi>  llm  np|M)i-(iiiiitv 
F^lunge  to  &4>mc  as:>istant.  (i\iim'/\i  n  \,:u\  i,ii*;  im-  tlir  |iictiirii  \h 

-3htteis  stood  thus  in   1800,  when    di-it'l.  :if,* :,/«-,. i.-jy  |,,i„j,,y  of  iiLspiifin;^ 

^iToltmann  published  tlie  first  vol-    tin-.  ];."..••;.•..:•.  1  /.iiupjr,  my  iinpifN. 

•  of  his   very  excollent   work  orj    »r;ori  •    ;/    ....    ..-.  •]..   J;h-.m|ii,  (iailt-ry 

ilbein  and  His   Time^.**     A  f«:w 

mvu  had   indeed  been  in*l*  v,    ^^.^ ':Z.^-'^'""^*'^^'' 


496 


The  Battle  of  the  Madonnas. 


: 


was  a  copy  is  confirmed.  It  may  have 
been  copied  about  1530,  possibly  by 
a  pupil  of  the  painter's,  for  some 
branch  of  the  familyj  though  I  see  no 
reason  why  it  should  not  be  of  later 
origin.  Under  any  drcumstauces,  it 
appears  to  me  as  a  copy,  not  a  repeti- 
tion or  replica  by  Holbein  himself: 
there  are  parts  in  it  that  Holbein  can 
scarcely  have  painted.  The  differences 
in  the  two  are  great,  in  expression,  in 
coloring,  and  in  execution.  There  is 
much  more  character  in  the  heads  of 
the  Virgin  and  the  child  in  her  arms, 
and,  indeed,  in  all  the  heads  of  the 
Darmstadt  picture  j  its  coloring  ii 
browner,  and  the  details  are  every- 
where more  pronounced,  especially  in 
the  head-dress  of  the  daughter,  and 
in  the  carpet:  in  fact,  it  has  the  ordi- 
nary superiority  of  ao  original  by  a 
great  uKister,  over  the  copy  by  an  in- 
ferior painter;  the  weakest  part  of 
the  Dre^^den  example  being  the  head 
and  neck  of  the  Madonna,  and  the 
expression  of  the  child  in  her  arras. 
The  Madonna,  in  some  attempt  to 
beautify  her,  has  been  deprived  of 
natural  force,  and  weakly  ideah zed ; 
and  the  happy  child  of  the  original 
has,  through  incapacity  more  than 
any  thing  else,  been  rendered  so  void 
of  childlike  expression  as  to  liave  been 
pronounced  sick,  or  even  dead, by  some ; 
though  this,  in  spite  of  its  extended 
arm,  is  alisurd  enough," 

Shortly  after  tfjis  attack  by  Mr. 
Worn u in,  Dr,  Woltmann  also  entered 
the  lists  again.  Some  discoveries 
having  been  ramie  concerning  the 
coats-of-arms  on  the  frame  of  tho 
Darmstadt  picture,  which  appeared 
to  tlirnw  a  doubt  upon  the  historical 
evidenre  iu  favor  of  the  one  in  JDres- 
di'U,  hf  announced  iu  the  second  vol- 
ume of  his  book,  published  in  1868, 
that  his  confidence  was  shaken,  add- 
ing, however,  that  it  was  impossible 


for  him  to  conclude  forthwith 
the  Dresden  painting  for  a 
later  artist,  as  espaciallj  th« 
in  it  was  too  beautifal 
another  year  having  p 
]iim  at  last  abandoning  the 
picture  entirely,  and  recoi 
judgment  that, it  is  decicWlj 
copy,  that  the  liead  of  the 
although  beautifal,  is  m 
modernized  and  aomewhat 
nated,  that  the  Qreen  dresj 
Ma^lonna  is  evidently  due  ta 
understanding  of  the 
did  not  notice  the  cbao; 
blue  had  undergone,  but 
for  green,  and,  strangest  of 
tho  changes  in  the  amintje 
the  composition^  attd  in  the 
tural  baekgrQundy  weris  NOT 
meftts,  but  positive  chantfu 
worse!  This,  we  must 
admit,  is  in  curious  cout 
former  opinion  of  the  leanit*< 
which  is  to  be  found  on 
the  first  volume  of  his  *^l 
and  ^hich  runs  thus:  **Th© 
example  is  evidently  the  1 
differences  in  the  | 
cially  in  the  architeLL_  _. 
were  evidently  caoded  by 
that  the  artist  had  the  D 
picture  before  bis  eyes,  that 
himself  critically  above  it, 
distinctly  in  what  regank  it 
improved/* 

Thus    the   old    Dre^B*len 
lower  and  lower ;  and  with 
to  originiility  its  beauty 
away,  until  finally  the  coit^ 
was  added  by  Bruno  Meyei 
writer  of  Berlin*  who  calb 
uf  tho  Virgin  **  simph*  a  Ic 
the  original   t\qn%  its  it  mig 
pee  ted  of  an  artist  who  w 
in  the  feeling   for  tlm  #oal^ 
benignity   and    placid   loHi 
pure  austerityi  and  t)io 


Tht  Batde  of  ike  Madonnas. 


49* 


eal  bead:  or.  to  express  it  in 
for  the  granfieur  and  deprh 
irt,  and  to  whom  thai  cljar- 
uld  be  most  familiar  wldcb 
ich  call  'U  miynon'  aiid 
one   be   would  be    able   to 

rben.  we  find  the  admiratioD 
nturies.  that  head  which  b:ii 
ed  upon  as  the  most  exqTxi- 
ioQ  of  old  German  art.  that 
b.  according  to  Mrs.  Jamet^oa. 
^en,    haunts   the    memoir." 

0  a  level  with  ^*le  mxjnoTu" 
i  this  connection  can  onlj 
^rt  of  insipid  pretiiness. 

1  now  reriew  the  evidence 
ich   this  decision   has  been 

iting.  of  which  the  anthor- 
oubtfnl.  mav  be  examined 
J  different  aspects :  — 
roricallv,  to  ascertain  whedier 
ible  to  trace  it  to  its  sour:* 
bted  documentary  evidence : 

mallV;  to  ascertain  wheiber 
ies  agree  with  those  of  The 
«-hom  it  is  attributed.  And 
is  heading  we  mav  make 
subdivisions,  namelv,  com- 
ilrawing.  coloring,  and.  most 
f  all;  handling, 
tber  aspect  would  appear 
e  :  and  yet  the  two  pictures 
msideration  have  been  ex- 
mder  still  another,  namelv. 
ir  relative  beauty.     Strictly 

the  question  of  beauty  cer- 
)  have  nothing  to  do  with 
ion  of  originality ;  and  the 
ue  serves  to  prove  how  dan- 
is  to  confound  the  two :  for. 

originality  of  the  Dresden 
as  beginning  to  be  duubted. 
J  wan    also    assailed;   and 

beaotj  had  been  assailed. 
A  tarn  bioo^t  forward  as  a 


T*rc»c»f  C'f  iii*  want  of  oriffinajiir.  while, 
if  it  ha-il  t»«-n  adjudired  beautiful 
before,  -t  cenniiilr  did  not  beoome 
less  &(•  if  uc»t  jiaint^d  by  Ho!l»ein. 

rirst*  then,  as  tio  the  historical  e vi- 
de ijoe.. 

The  fcarliest  mention  of  the  picniie 
is  t^i)  l»e  i-yc^-i^a  \zi  an  old  L&rin  manu- 
scrij't.  c-.c-mj»ij*id  by  Bem^jrius  Fesch- 
a  ci'iiiij+eLvr-fct-law  in  Birltr.  liom 
15i<i.  d>3  16G7,  He  relates  that 
ab:>at  I'.i^C'  an  strtist  of  Amsterdam, 
nhmtd  L»e  IJjond.  bonerbt  a  painting 
frc-m  the  bt:rs  of  ozi*r  Ir^lin.  an  alder- 
man of  Bii^Jr,  f:»r  which  painting  he 
paid  one  tljoaf^and  itnj»erials,  and 
which  be  scJd  again  to  Queen  3IaiT 
i'f  Mwiic-L  TviiiJe  S'::e  re-ided  in  Uel- 
ginm.  for  three  times  that  sum.  He 
de«rri^»es  the  picture  as  repree^ntin^ 
Jacob  Meyer  and  family,  taeelin^ 
l»efore  o/i  Q.ltar.  and  zjt«  the  size  ai 
abont  three  eLs  of  Bitrle  each  way; 
both  ofwL:'.h  siat*iDents  are  inoorrect. 

Btj:  a?  L-i  riit^s  that  he  has  cwie* 
of  two  L-f  the  Lzures  in  the  picture. 
ma-le  by  or,e  John  Lndl  ai.d  a*  thes*e 
copies  are  sti-l  in  Bat'e.  there  vi  no 
doubt  as  t'O  wiiLt  I'l'/t^jre  Ije  jneLiut?. 
However,  in  a  irjirz^JiiaJ  note.  wLj/jh 
Le  has  i^Iied  Jater.  }:e  ;rivefe  :i  'inerent 
vers:o:j.  t/j  the  efrvt  t:jat  ilftr  picture 
be;onz*id  X'j  Lis  fj^'is  srrd:jifauiirr  /who 
was  relit^  *o  J <*'.•. :■'■  lA*:y*:T.  iiavinjj 
E,  arried  a  STan  d  vl ;  .'1 ;  of  I .  i  r ; .  wh '» 
Kii  :t  to  l-e":i:  tbot::  10>;  i<jT  tlie 
ambassa^i'.r  .f  Fri'-.>.  at  t:.e  price  of 
one  hunire-d  ^'Oji  cr-wn**.  a-  he  (l^nh- 
Jin;  h:m*rlf  ].vl  ikr*:m4.  The  dis- 
crepancy between  trae  two  fetat^meuts 
he  leaves  -j-.ei:/i:L*rL 

A  2 i :  --i  we  t: : J  i  : };  e  p i •;:  u re  d e«Krri  U;d 
by  .Sanorc^.r.  r.  the  year  1G75,  who 
reiarei  that  it  wis  owned  by  \nn  rela- 
tive a:-d  frieL'i  Le  Blond,  artijjt  and 
an-dealer  of  Aaxsteriam,  who  sold  it 
long  before  the  year  1G45,  to  a  bor 
keeper  named  LwMrrt,  "  at  his  (I 


498 


The  Battle  of  the  Madonnas. 


lert'ii)    earnest    solicitatlou,"  at    the 
price    of    three    thousand    guilders; 
winch  price  would   appear   to  agree 
with  the  pdlidg  price  given  by  Fesch, 
if    we    assume    hia    **  imperials  '*    to 
mean    imperial    guilders,   instead   of 
thalers,   as  has  been  done  by   some. 
All  other  notices  of  the  picture  are 
based  upon  these  two,  and  there  is   a 
gap  in   the   historical  evidence   until 
the  appearance  of  our  two  paintings. 
Of  the  Dresden  picture  we  have  seen 
that  it  was   said  to  have   come  to 
Venice  from  Amsterdam  about  1690, 
and  that  it  went  thence  to  Dresden 
in  1743  ;  of  the  Darmstadt  picture  we 
know  that  it  turned  up  mysteriously 
in   1822.     A   discovery  was  however 
made  in  18C8,  which  carried  the  his- 
tory of  the  latter  back  to   the  year 
1709.     We  have  spoken  already  of 
the  two  coats-of-arms  which  ornament 
the  frame  in  Darmstadt.     Erei>eated 
attempts  had  been  made  to  find   the 
families  ta  wliom  tliese  arras  belonged  ; 
hut  all    research   had  been    fruitless, 
until   Mr.  Dielitz,  General  Secretary 
of  the  Royal  Museums  in  Berlin,  who 
is   reported    to   be   deeply  versed   in 
heraldry,  discovered  that  one  of  thera 
belungi'd   to  a  Dutch  family  named 
Cromhouf,      Almost     simultaneously 
with  this  discovery,  Mr.  Suerraondt,  a 
well-known  collector    iu  Aix-la-Cha- 
pelle,  found  the  following  mention   in 
an  Amsterdam  auction  catalogue  of 
the    year  1709:     *^24.      A    capital 
piece,   with  two   doors,   representing 
Mary  with  Jesus  upon  her  arm,  with 
several     knetdiug    figures,    after    the 
life,  by  Hans  Holbein.'^  And  the  title 
of  the  catalogue  revealed  the  fact  that 
these  pictures  liud  been  owned  by  two 
gentlemen^    named     Cromhout     and 
Loskart,     It  follows  from  this,  that,  as 
one   of  the  coats-of-arms  belongs  to 
C'romlitut,  the  other  must  belong  to 
LoFkart. 


Upon  these  very  dubious  fLodi 
mixed  up  statemeut^p  the  fnn 
the  Darmstadt  picture  rest  the| 
ing  h^^pothesis :  — 

Holbein  painted  only  one 
This  was  bought  by  I^i  Bl< 
Bold  to  Lossert.     The  Lo^kuflJ 
auction  catalogue  of  1709  i*  a  il 
ant  of  this  Lossert,  the  diffei» 
the  names  being  accounted  for 
loose     spelling     ibrmerly 
The    Darmstadt    picture, 
one  sold  by  Loskart,  is  tho 
Holbein.     Furthermore,   the 
sold  to  Mary  of  Medici,  whil 
in  Brussels,  by  Le  Blood,  w«i 
ulent  copy  which  ha  causedl 
made,  and  which   at  some  la 
found   its   way    back   to  Ams! 
thence  to  Veiiice,  thence  to  j 

The  flaws  in  this  hypothe 
1,  the  di^erence  between  the  J 
of  Lossert  and  Loskart;  2,1 
that  the  auction  catalogue 
mentions  **  two  doors,"  of  wh 
Darmstadt  frame  shows  no 
that  ^ /miululetU  copy  won 
been  made  as  close  as  possible ;  1 
the  inability  of  Mary  of  Medic 
expensive  pictures  at  the  time 
was  then  living  in  exile,  and  ^ 
toriously  in  great  want  of  i 

On  the  contrary,  tho 
Dresden  offer  the  following 

Holbein  painted  two  pic 
haps  one  for  a  chapel,  tlm 
the    house,    possibly    also 
branches  of  the  Meyer  famflj 
of  these  copies  was  bought 
de  Medici,  tlirough  the  French^ 
sador,  and  before  her  exile  j^ 
was  sold  to  Le  Blond, 
Amsterdam  and  to  Lossert^l 
him,  through  the  auction   of 
Paris,  thence  to  Berlin   and 
stadt.     The  copy  owned  by  \ 
Medici    came    to    AtoBterda 
which  is  not  at  all  improbable^  j 


Tlie  Battle  of  the  Madonnas. 


499 


^  thiui  II  gTPat  markcit  for  art- 
tJ»en<!Q  to  Venice  and  DreB- 

F(e€tlll(^r,  who  advance»  this 
ftdmita  that  the  whole  mai/ 
ii^xmcjiX  romance  ;  but  b<?  in- 
in  view  of  the  peourious 
i  of  Mary  of  Medici,  the  theo- 
opfOQtots  is  decidedly  an 
ical  romance,  which  mny  be 
I  OQ  these  gentlemen,  btjf, 
that  they  had  called  some 
iifiion4  of  the  profesi^or  and 
**  abMud,"  "old  crotchets," 
of  paper/'  and  the  like^  it 
■nd  qnil4*  mildj  after  all. 

tuiprejadiced    observer,   it 
'  best  to  abandon  the  bis- 
Foltagetlier,  as  it  proves  as 
'On»  ittdo  as  it  docs  for  the 

now  examioe  the  internal 
mndf  as  the  orig^inality  of 
It  picture  is  almost   un* 
the  qnestion  can  only  be,  Is 
ir^  in  Dresden  by  Holbein,  or 

,  as  to   the  composition.     We 
the  difference    in    the   ar- 
;  af  the  figures  entirely  out 
hat  we  must  examine 
btt«ctural  surroundings.     For, 
I  tiiM#  had  been  looked  upon 
i  m  pro  vein  en  t  upon  the 
it  picture,  they  are  now  held 
►rior,  and  consequently  nn- 
HolbeiD.     The  reasons  as- 
1,-tiita  dedsion  are  the  folio w- 
i  Im  admitted  that  the  ar- 
of  th*  Darmstailt  picture 
organic  onity  than  the 
of  the  Dresden   picture. 
^,   which     is    divided 
ends  quite  naturally, 
rhat  uncoiithlyf  in  the 
»;  aodf  as  the  coping 
aichitmTe  ia  carrkd  out 


belis,  their  office  of  supporting  or 
carrying  is  sufficiently  indicated.  In 
the  Dresden  picture  the  architrave 
has  but  one  member,  which  ends  near- 
ly on  a  line  with  the  niche*  The 
upper  corbel  indeed  rc'mains  ;  but  be- 
ing cut  off,  as  it  were^  from  the  archi- 
trave, and  treated  after  the  fashion  of 
a  capital,  yet  having  nothing  what- 
ever to  bear,  it  is  utterly  illogicaL 
The  lower  corbel,  which  has  taken 
the  form  of  a  scroll,  is  absurd  and 
ugly,  considering  the  place  where  it 
is  introduced*  Xow,  it  is  claimed  by 
the  partisans  of  Darmstadt  that  Hoi* 
bein  would  never  have  made  himself 
guilty  of  such  blunders^  his  knowl- 
edge of  architecture  and  of  the  forms 
of  the  Menai&sance  having  been  so 
profound  as  to  have  surpassed  even 
that  of  the  German  architects  of  bis 
day*  The  defenders  of  Dresden,  on 
the  contrary,  assert  that  there  is  no 
such  thing  j  that  Holbein  acted  very 
arbitrarilj^  in  his  drawings  of  archi* 
tecture;  and,  in  proof  of  their  asser- 
tion, they  point  to  some  of  the  archi- 
tectural monstrosities  which  he  baa 
introduced  in  his  drawings  of  the 
Passion  *  and  elsewhere.  Further- 
more, it  is  argued  that  the  turning 
up  of  the  lower  part  of  the  shell  in 
the  niche  is  indicative  of  the  baroque 
style,  and  that  Holbein,  therefore, 
cannot  be  responsible  for  it.  But 
this  argument  is  completely  demol- 
ished by  the  drawing  of  the  Virgin 
**clad  in  the  sun,'*  which  is  undoubt- 
edly by  Holbein,  and  in  which  the 
shell  ia  turned  up  in  the  same  way. 

About  the  drawing  there  has  been 
very  little  cootroversy.  Mr,  Womum, 
as  we  have  ^en,  has  indeed  advanced 
the  suggestion  that  the  happy  child 
of  Darmstadt  was  changed  into  the 
sick  child  of  Dresden  "through  In- 

8p«cliM«t  ta  WoltBSftn^  BofMit  v«t«  l«r 


iA^mticr  foint  of   the  cor-     utdmmougBmm'mpbotofftf^^ 


The  Battie  of  the  Madonnas. 


501 


that  the  great  event,  which 
looked  forward  to  with  so 
rest,  finally  took  place, 
of  meeting  was  Dresden, 
from  Aug.  15  to  OcL  15. 
le  time  there  wa»  exhibited 

finest  collections  of  the 
ie  younger  Hans  II>lbeiu 
ther  artistic  members  of  Lis 
•  seen,  to  which  some  ^'ixzt 
ind  private  collections  of 
and  other  couiitries  had 
Thus  every  iacilitv  hwl 
.  to  comp;ire  not  oiily  tne 
with   eacJi  other,  but  al>o 

works  of  the  artis:-  aui 
ie  s-jme  of  the  m^.^i  bighjy 
best  autljcn:iv.-it.ei 
ilt  of  the  "Holl^eiii  Cozj- 
uS  it  has  l»*-eL:  caljed.  it 
n  the  foiiowing  t%o  mkiii- 

adersigned  have  agrreed  :o 
ir  '-c-aTi^'t:  -i.  as  ioljows:  — 
?  Darn;sti'2t  riiiiLj  it-  •.  f" 
li  Mi-^oiiiia  ir  tL*- ui-d:  ■•-'-■:- 
le  or:gJi.i»l  l-y  Hu*.^  H  .•i- 
>unge^- 
head  of  tbe  Mi*ac*-_iik.  ctf 
and  of  i!ie  Luri'  •iLL'-tvr 
:Lis  pitrvxrfe,  Ltrr  ti*?^L  r^- 
»  a  liOt  iL'.-.xiFia'-rL.Sit  *-x- 
by  oltwurii:  z:  :^.i*-  cTi;^:--i-! 
f  the  jiart-  ki'.j'Jtfd  to. 
?  I^t.Qt-::  txhiiiijae  c»{  rii* 
adoLJib  It-  :»L  III*-  c::>iitruri 
:  of  the  j»i'.:t.-Lr*r  1:.  l>ar:ii- 
cli  ii'-'wher*-  r*^*;ihib  iii* 
ins  HoiiieiL  Ui*  ;  -.iLii^er. 

py  A-  WortmuTii:  uiic  'i!?- 
Sw  m:»fT  erf"  rheui  j»nil«b«or> 
icm-ii  an  LiKt(»rittii»i. 
*-  Zeithchrifi  iiir  i»ii(i*.'nat 
*GaK*t:te  of  the  Aru-  u! 
la  viikiL  ihic  muuiietiK'  i.- 
w  £zid,  M  a  tailpiece  U; 


it,  one  of  Holbeiu'it  illustrationii  of 
Erasmus  of  Rotterdam's  ''  Praise  of 
Folly."  representing  Folly  leaving  the 
pulpit  from  which  she  has  just  been 
preaching  to  a  congregation  of  fools. 
The  meciniLig  of  this  tailpie^je,  in 
connectii^Lt  wit:j  the  manifebto,  can 
bardiy  be  d'^ubifuh 

Tlie  other  maiiifesto,  originally 
published  in  the  "Dreyiener  Jour- 
nal," runs  tiju-r :  — 

"'  We  reoorEjiis^  i-  the  I>reMlen 
exarL-j/ie  of  '^ary  wi^h  the  Aleyer 
fuiLily.  by  Ha:j-  Holbejn  tbe  young- 
er, a  rf-j'-rt ;•.';.'■.  ly  tLe  Lar.  J  of  the 
iiia-t^T-  in  vj.iJtJi'  of  ]efc.«.er  eJa't^oralion 
:l  :*je  detail*.  For  tbe  ina*u-r  ouJy 
wa^  cajicfcole  of  i'jtroducing  cLanges 
fc.-i  freely,  a^d  'mO  aiake  bU':*j  great  iuj- 
provemeiiifr  ::-  jr^L.^ral.  et pec-Lai !y  in 
the  d:--ri'>*;::r-.'L  '.>r  I'le  tpa"*.  arjd  »tiJJ 
more  ar  :ii  Th^-  |.»r.»pioni'.»nt  of  alJ  the 
f ^ureK.  iiv:..  u'^'x*-  all.  it  wa^  only 
Ti'.fS'. '.M*-  "f-.ir  t*  *  ••..u^>.'r  t.0  aiT  vt  at 
^j'.'!  L.:.  *  :.i».-i-:  i-.»'.i    r.  \'*\*-  ;d»faM/.allou 

of    tL**    l-iTU*"*'    a'.j .     •-'*    V''*-     ^'»*^.^V^^^  O? 

t;:j*-  i»»^L:v'v  a:i.i  >-y:;.«r*'^.'iy  i*.  tJn- 
h*ii*d  '.»'  Mi«rv.  \v :.',•••..  y/it-r  'ii»  l^i-yviid 
t,!i»    l>i-r;i-.siu'. :   »-.».u,'.ir ;'!•■.   i-?r;l   wtiii-ii. 

inueed.     U:ui:»■^     •**'    {>»»      J,>Mr*»'.Li-ii     pit: 

t,i:r»     :.ii^    u'.-iii'.     '.i'     ^jr^'Min*.     a»M.    a 
•■  '"lit    J..>u''mk;iu'.".    ••.ri-.ti:;.iit     ir    vu 

h'rurti'.iM       M  r'.M.jV       "-/      >€!.»l:iri  .     und 
i.ij-'.      li»r':tilJn»      ■*     liifc^     0»;»-J       j'ii-f*,:i'     m 
)fL;]nt^*:(    .      h'.      M'i'.'    !'    It      :il'»#<fr.r.:«.iU      l/> 
bit'    iil'V    ili*   Mn    Jii»;,nii    ir     itt,  II    oi'/: 
IiU..      l>»'l'»r»      Mi»       '»!i.ii.iMii..«»ii      tr       It. 
IllllVi.'f.   ' 

t;. -l(»ll'      l|'.ll*M.  .     ll|t|y4-.\     U§      ik'A     «'t      fiUtiUi 

ah  L    0(UJi<:f;    <)uliu#    Jiubuiii,   y'ji 


500 


The  Battle  of  the  Madonnas. 


capacity  (in  the  copyist)  more  tban 
any  thing  else;"  but  that  incapacity 
must  have  been  very  great  indeed, 
which  wouhi  render  the  upturned 
corners  of  the  mouth  by  comers 
turned  down.  To  show  how  e^en 
experts  may  sometimes  disagree  where 
disagreement  appears  almost  impossi- 
ble, it  may  be  interesting  to  state 
that  Ernst  Forster,  artist  and  writer 
upon  art,  calljt  the  nr/ht  foot  of  the 
upper  child  in  the  Darmstadt  picture 
an  actual  **  club  foot,"  while  Karl 
Forster,  likewise  an  artist  and  writer 
upon  art,  speaks  of  this  same  foot  as 
a  '*  masterly  '*  piece  of  painting,  and, 
on  the  contrary,  condemns  the  left 
foot,  which  his  namesake  does  not 
attack,* 

Upon  the  qnei^tion  of  coloring, 
opinions  are  hopeles^sly  divided.  I 
raustj  however,  confine  myself  to  point- 
ing out  the  two  opposite  poles,  which 
will  be  found  in  the  verdict  of  Wal* 
pith,  that  "the  coloring  is  beautiful 
beyond  description,**  an<l  in  Bruno 
Meyer's  assertion,  **  that  the  colors 
have  no  strength,  that  they  are  dusty 
and  chalky,  that  the  whole  makes  the 
insipid  impression  of  a  pastel-paint- 
ing, aitd  that  the  harmony  is  wanting 
which  characterizes  the  original.*'  A 
powerful  weapon  has  also  been  made 
out  of  the  green  color  of  the  dress  of 
the  Madonna^  which  was  explained 
by  supposing  that  the  copyist  over- 
looked the  changes  which  the  blue  of 

»  Prof*  FpchD<?rtttlludiiiff  tothift  curious  dhctrep- 
•Jiey,  calls  ftttentiou  to  tiw.  f»ct  that  theru  can 
Imrdly  be  n  mUtj^ke  nlxnit  the  aides  of  the  picture, 
a*  the  left  fwt  of  the  child,  by  reiuoa  of  its  po*l- 
eioii,  corfi?*poiida  with  the  leA  hand  of  the 
•<j>eetAtor,  and  the  right  w\th  tlie  right.  Tlie 
diAcrepAticjr  could  onljr  ho  explained  by  pregup* 
poalng  great  carrle««ne!i§  of  stfttemeot  on  the 
psrt  of  one  of  thefte  writers.  Such  care1e»Df4« 
I*  tfideed  somellroci  foiitid  ill  wrlterai  npon  art, 
Thus  Mri*.  jDimiH>!fiOu  speak^t  of  a  Jirrotip  at  four 
fmnnleii  ou  onfjtide  of  ihc  picture;  although  her 
rit'icrlption  if*  accompAQied  bj  an  otitline  drawing, 
which  jAUnlj  shoiTB  the  group  to  o^juilirt  of  Mnw 
ft'inalc*  onljr. 


the  original  had  undfrgooi^  i 
at   the    same    time    he 
ignorance  in  another  directioo  I 
ing  a  green  color  to  the  dr 
ought  to  hare  known  that  thd  1 
color  is  blue,     Thia  blow  wta> 
by  calling  attention  to  the 
the  deep  green  of  the  !>««« 
donna   is    totally  difiTervut 
rather  lij^'ht   bluish-grren  of  i 
in  Darm!*ta*lt,  and  that  con 
the  change  was  made  knoi»iii^ 
purposely.     It  is  furthen]a<ir»  ^ 
that   i\\^  typical  colore  of 
of  the   Virgin  had  not  yet 
lixetl  at  the  time  Holbein  ww 
and   that   a   number  of  pie 
which  the  Virgin  13  dr---  ^  ■ 
red,  white,  and  goM-1 
in    existence.     If  a  hUt*r 
copied   and   altered    the  ptcti 
certainly   would    hare    ado 
typical   color.     Finally,  it 
that  comparisons  in  this  cas«  1 
than  usually  odious ;  one  picttj 
ing  been  restored,  while  the 
still  covered  by  its  old 

There   is   now   only  one 
left,  —  that  of  the  handling, 
opinion!*  had  already  been 
upon  this  iiubjcet  j  but  the  ^ 
among  the  cotubiitiuits  had 
to  give  a  iinal  derision,  as  bog 
two  rival  paintings  had  not  I 
fronted.     While  the  one  ' 
deUj  and  the  otlior  in  Da 
appeared   to  them  too  daof 
undertaking   to  judge   htU 
two.     The  desire  to  gee  i\vt 
turei^i  hung  side  by  side  ha 
pressed  long  ago.     The  pr 
have  been  carried  out  in  XSlSd  J 
the  great  exhibition  in  Mi 
off  that  j'oar,  and  im  tW  \ 
picture  went  there,  it 
1870.     The  Franco-Gecaiaii  V I 
breaking  out,  the  project  wv^V  \ 
defeated  once  mon? :  and  il 


The  Batti€  ^^  ^  JiToArw a». 


v: 


that  the  greac  eTe--  wiiji-> 
looked  for»*ri  :o  -rs-Jz.  si> 
-resr,  csaIIv  *■>:!£  '.i-i-re. 
of  meviing  was  r*?*;**!-?  — 
fr3in  Aa^.  1^  :»-■  i>:-  1-j. 
le  time  there  wa?  riiiib:-^^  1 
?  finest  colle-::!  :■?-*  :f  :!- 
he  vounger  H;al.s  H.-IbTl.i 
jtlier  artistic  mtrmbers  •;•:  11- 
r  seen,  to  which  som-  aliTj 
and  private  coiI«r«:::jEia  ■:•: 
and  other  cou'arrirrs  h^i 
L  Thus  every  faciliry  hi.i 
1  to  compiire  no:  only  tlie 
with  each  other,  hut  al5«7 
•  works  of  the  artist,  ac-l 
se  some  of  the  most  highly 
be»t  authenticated, 
ult  of  the  "HolbeiQ  Con- 
as  it  has  heeu  called,  is 
in  the  following  t^o  mani- 


ndersigned  have  agreed  to 
i-ir  conviction  as  follows :  — 
e  Darmstadt  example  of 
in  Madonna  is  the  undouht- 
ne  original,  hy  Hans  Hol- 
ounger. 

?  head  of  the  Madonna,  of 
and  of  the  Burgomaster 
this  picture,  liave  heen  re- 
o  a  not  inconsiderable  ex- 
eby  obscuring  the  original 
of  the  parts  alluded  to. 
le  Dresden  example  of  the 
ladonna  is,  on  the  contrary, 
•y  of  the  picture  in  Darm- 
ich  nowhere  reveals  the 
[ans  Holbein  the  younger. 
I.  sepc.  fib  ifln." 

by  A.  Woltmann  and  thir- 
ra,  most  of  them  professors 
mown  art  historians. 

"  Zeitflchrift  fiir  bildende 
('^Gasette  of  the  Arta  of 
^  in  which  this  manifesto  is 
.  w«  find,  as  a  tsflpicee  to 


."I.    rue    -I    ^  II  ?«.ii -J    ..a?i;r"*-.  ■  .'>    ;• 
r    ■__■'*  7"~^»f^n- 1- -i^  r   i.-   i-u    ,:^  :j« 


-    V  ..:    :li«:    32a::.. 


■>..^.      «.  ^ 


-  W"?  rt'.-.'.r::  J.:  ':  z.i*  rh***i-^z. 
^xa.iiTL-r  :f  ilj.r"  TV  "!i  t!i ;  M^7>fr 
fi2i  i  \j.  bj  H  ir.  ■*  H  ■.*>•■»: -  •: h ■-  v  ? c-  ^ 
er.  a  r^Te::::  ■-.  \v  the  iiir.  r  ^r  :h-? 
mister,  in  sriti?  ■.t'  lessor  e'aS'rAtiou. 
in  the  details*  F'?r  the  mister  oaly 
was  capable  of  introiiiioia;^  chJiai^?# 
so  freely,  and  to  mike  su:h  ^rwa:  im- 
provements in  ;jeaeral.  especially  in 
the  disposition  oi  the  spa^v.  and  still 
more  as  in  the  pr.^portions  of  all  the 
figures.  Bat,  aK>ve  all.  it  was  only 
possible  t'i-»r  the  niiister  to  arrive  at 
such  an  exaltation  in  the  idealization 
of  the  figure  and  of  the  gesture,  of 
the  beauty  and  expression  in  the 
head  of  Mary,  which  giH*s  far  bi»yond 
the  Darmstadt  example,  an«l  which, 
indeed,  makes  of  the  Dresden  pic- 
ture the  acme  of  German  art,  a 
position  which  has  always  been  just- 
ly accorded  to  it. 

"The  Darmstadt  example  is  un- 
fortunately in  a  state  of  general  ol>- 
scuration  through  its  vurniMh,  and 
also  because  it  has  been  partly  re- 
painted;  so'  that  it  is  im|K>sMihIo  to 
say  how  far  the  picture  is  Htill  origi- 
nal, before  the  oh-icu ration  is  re- 
moved." 
"Dbudes,  .vpt^tab^.  Maw 


Signerl  by  A.  W.  .Ambrrj^v  and  twan- 
ty-fonr  otherM,  moAtiy  or  all  of  then 
artists,  and  among  theiui  soeh  nasMV 
as  H  Groner,   Julias  HubMr- 


502 


The  Battle  of  the  Madonnas, 


uiirJ  Magnus,  Fried  rich  Preller^  sen., 
Ludvvjg  Ricliter,  and  Julius  Schnorr 
von  Ciiralsfeld. 

Now,  theo,  if  we  were  forced  to 
take  sides,  seeing  that  we  are  entirely 
without  an  opinion  of  our  own  on 
the  question  of  handling,  with  whom 
should  we  side,  —  with  the  professors 
and  historians,  who  condemn  the 
Dresden  picture,  or  with  the  artists 
who  uphold  it? 

TIr*  answer  appears  plain  enough  : 
\Vc  will  side  with  the  best  authorities. 

But  who  are  the  best  authoritjes? 
Among  the  liistortans  and  professors, 
the  lead  (in  this  case  at  least)  is  ac- 
corded to  Dt,  Wolttaiinn,  who  is  cer- 
tainly a  man  of  great  learning,  and 
whose  work  on  Holbein  entitles  him 
lo  a  hearing.  Bat  can  we  trust  him 
in  such  delicate  questions,  when  we 
fi.nd  him  declaring  deliberately  at  one 
time,  after  having  examiued  the  pic- 
ture under  the  most  favorahle  circum- 
stances (at  the  time  of  its  exhibition 
in  Munich),  and,  as  he  himself  says, 
with  the  most  careful  attention,  that 
not  the  smallest  trace  of  retouching 
was  to  be  seen  upon  it,  that  it  was 
completely  intact,  and  that  it  required 
the  closest  scrutiny,  with  the  aiti  of  a 
magnify ing-glass,  to  be  able  to  appre- 
ciate the  %vhole  of  its  beauty,  and 
then  again  heading  a  manifesto,  ac- 
cording to  which  the  most  important 
parts  of  the  picture  are  obscured  by 
not  inconsiderable  retouching? 

Korean  we  repose  implicit fiiith  upon 
the  other  party.  Prof  Fechner^  who 
must  be  counted  among  its  members, 
although  he  did  not  sign  the  declara- 
tion already  given,  certainly  acted 
strangely,  when  lie  opened  a  book  in 
the  place  of  exliibition,  in  which  eacli 
visitor  was  to  record  his  Toto,  pni  or 
ffOTtti^a,  I  do  not  in  the  least  doubt 
that  w©  are  all  ardent  republicans; 
but  we  will  prubably  agree,  neverthe- 


less, that  an  appeal  to  tmhm 

frage  in  matters  of  ar' 
not  appear  to  be  just  th_ 
among  the  signers  of  the  decli 
there  are  also  men  whoiic^  ju 
cannot  bo  relied  upon  withoQll 
cation.    For  one  of  them,  for  to 
the    artist  H.   Gnlderr  an 
knowledge    of   Holbein  is 
partly  because  he  made  sevtcd| 
of  the  Dresden  Madonaa. 
to  this  the  observation, 
perhaps  sound  harsh,  thall 
of  the  other  signera  are  ofi 
the  Dresden  Gallery,  and  of 
demy  there,  we  shall  undotab 
justitied  in  rejecting  them  a§  jl 

Finally,    in    addition    to 
oilicial  declarations  just  rsrit 
find  two  individuvU  trerdicta  Itg 
in    the    November    number 
^'  Zeitschrift  fur  bihl  Kuiist,'**! 
are  very  interesting,  but  wbic 
in  conjunction  with  all  thiit  hi 
before,  will  only  serve  to 
fusion  worse  confounded* 

Id  the  drst  of  these  verjii 
W.  Bode,  a  well-known  wril«r| 
and  one  of  the  signers  of  the 
natory  manifesto,  a  J 
tion  that  this  mani 
enough  in  speaking  of  the 
parts  of  the  Darmstadt  pieti 
Bode  has  satistied  himself  that| 
any  part  of  the  fiesh  painting  j 
picture  has  come  to  us  in  itsi 
condition  ;  all  these  parts  latin 
ruined  by  cleaning,  and  theti  hi 
retouched  and  repainti^d  **  bjf  [ 
unskilful  hand,"  and  thi^j 
such  an  extent  that  pveii  I 
has  been  altered.     Thus  th« 
ter  of  the  head  of  the  ]^ladoai| 
chunged,  the  face  of  the  chtli 

pp&rcd  tn  n«fnrrui>^  iitht-f  Gcnao  m 
ftnd  iniigii*fn<3M  g|i  -t^nfihtm 

ftiierest  wlrb  wlti  ipnwftt  • 


Ftelor  JVeA/^. 


503 


!r  Mima  received  the  smiling  expx«s- 
m,  which  formerly  it  liad  not.  and 
€Hi  through  the  rest  of  the  picture. 
hm  draperies  and  accessorxeSy  on  the 
atimry,  are  pronounced  to  be  in  al- 
Mt  perfect  condition. 
Wtovk  these  and  other  ohservarioca 
n  Bode  argues  that  the  Dresden 
pj  {for  such  he  pronounces  it  to  be ». 
Ueh  was  made  before  the  origin lJ 
M  restored,  and  bv  a  painstaking 
id  a  clever  artist,  f^ives  us  a  httUr 
M  of  what  t?ie  original  picture  V'ls 
m^  the  original  itself.  Tikis  con- 
■BOO  throws  a  curious  light  upo:i 
aw  who,  after  having  condemnel 
•  Dresden  picture,  began  to  assail 
t  beauty  likewise. 
As  to  the  artist  who  could  have 
■de  the  copj,  he  advances  the  oplii- 
M^  that  it  might  possibly  have  been 
:  Francken,  an  artist  of  Antwerp. 
lived  from  1581  to  1642.  He 
this  from  the  style  of  pain:- 
^;  although  he  admits  that  :he 
eti«t,  whoever  he  was,  strove  L^knl 
»  repress  his  own  individu:Jity.  A: 
I  erents,  he  is  satisfied  that  i:  ma.st 
pve  been  a  Flemish  artist  of  this 
iDod,  and  in  this  opinion  he  is  borzi^; 
HI  by  other  authorities.  A  slight 
lUport  is  also  given  to  this  theory 
^the  fact  that  the  Darmstadt  pic- 
is  painted  upon  fir- wood,  while 
\  one  in  Dresden  is  painted  upon 
It  is  maintained  that  the  ar:isrs 
[Upper  Germany  mostly  employe  1 

rhile  the  Flemish  used  oak. 
[  The  second  verdict  is  that  of  Dr. 
y  VOQ  Zahn,  whose  former  advocacy 
the   Dresden    picture,  and  wiio^*: 
connection  with  the  Dresden 
Yj  certainly  show  him  to  be  un- 
■^ndiced  in  saying  that  he  is  corn- 
ed to  declare  this  picture  a  copy. 
dedaction  by  which  he  arrived 
if  eonclasion  is  extremely  inter- 
im but  entirely  too   long  to  be 


quoted  here.  Begariing  the  value  of 
the  Dresden  pioture,  he  comes  to  a 
C'>-ol;;^ion  siaiilar  to  the  one  arrived 
i:  by  Mr.  &>Ie.  The  mutual  sup- 
port whi'.-a  these  t^o  veri:-:ts  give  to 
•rju-li  o:Ii-rr  ii  O'jriAicIy  very  great; 
ar.l  yet  ev-jn  here  the  -  Comedy  of 
Err:rs "  •.ij^-rlna-** ;  tor  while  Mr. 
B-;-!*  speiks  of  the  vimish  on  the 
DAra:*:^.!:  pLtvire  as  an  "almost 
ooi'iie  coa:  of  lifter/'  Dr.  von 
Z^!.a  .:airai::.»rlzes  ::  a.^  -  dark,  but 
pr:r:'e«::!7  •:l-r*r."' 

To  oo:::liir.  :hr3  :  Although  more 
:hau.  OL.e  ^.-r  :ri-r  .:n:::il  knights  en- 
;SAced  will  hi  Sieen  to  Ieav»i  the  lists 
I;3i:/Lrij.  rratir.^  uron  a  broken  sword, 
aii'l  w::h  sLiel  i  tariii.'-Iitrd.  the  battle 
o:  the  ^Li'i>L::iu.s  appears,  after  all,  to 
have  tree  11  a  'Iriw.-i  battle.  But  it 
ceraiiily  was  ar*  iritereating  fight; 
aa  i  if.  i::er  :he  •ii'-:  •hall  have  set- 
ilerl.  ar.l  :r.e  hear  s'-i^ll  have  liiibnided, 
it  *ri  J  ill  te?.d  to  tea*:h  a  low  lesson 
o:  c^rija  in  n;it:er:j  of  such  diflB- 
•-•  ti .'  ie* : ii [\, r. .  a n  1  p*: rri a r>.s  e v<- n  of  tol- 
eri'.ii'a  :.A-«.ri-!  r,;ie  opinion  i  of  others, 
i:  will  have  a■^^>:Il^/.i.•ille'l  .viiii«;tliiiigy 
after  all,  whi'.h  wiil  I*;ave  u.-*  without 
regret  at  the  resu!:. 

S.    K.    KOKIILKIt. 


VICTOR  XEHUG. 

Victor  Xehli^;.   ohm  of    tbo  iinmt 

thorj.ig:j!y  trained  and  r.oniricnt.ion.i 
of  American  a^:i.■»t.^,  wlio  hiii  won 
rerrjtation  by  -jeveril  widl-(:on<:riv«M| 
aril  v:-^.>ro-.>iy  exe'ijt<:d  pirtun^i  of 
iiioiera:e  .-jiz*',  d!.'*:iii;{iji.'4lii-d  i*s|M'riulIv 
h/ i^\:u\rd,\t\K    druwin;;    of  tlM»    li^uni 

Xli'l  p/Werful  r:li;iMi',hTi/.Jltioli,  liiiH 
j  ;■»:  i:  *nir/.»:ted  :i  very  l;ir;<<?  liiMtmii'iil 
p.:.:ntip.:^.  on  whiidi  In*  li:m  InlHirpil  fur 
ri.ree  year-s.  TIj«:  suKjiM't  is  u  wril 
kriOATi  cpiHode  in  tin?  <«:iily  luNlnrv 
of  Virginia,—  Pocjiliunhin  mivin^  ilm 
life   of     Captain    Smilli.     Tlio     lU-nV 


504 


Victor  Nehllg. 


thing  which  strikes  the  ohs^rver  ia 
the  absence  of  all  artifice  in  the 
treatment,  which  is  thoroughly  realis- 
tic. There  is  no  theatrical  posing 
in  the  groups,  no  idealisation  of  the 
'*  noble  savage/*  In  all  the  many 
faces,  the  artist  has  given  us  the  Iq- 
tliau  type  pure  and  simple, — stolid, 
animal.  The  scmi-nudity  of  most  of 
the  male  figures  has  given  the  paint- 
er an  opportunity  of  displaying  his 
anatomical  knowledge,  —  a  knowledge 
evidently  acquired  by  a  study  of  liv- 
ing, and  not  of  deatl  forms.  The  torse 
of  the  chief  executioner,  whose  mud> 
clea  djre  thrown  into  high  relief  by 
the  action  of  uplifting  his  ponderous 
club  to  strike  tlie  prisoner,  is  a  fine 
example  of  vigorous  drawing.  The 
attitude  of  Pocahontas  is  natural 
and  effective.  And  here  Mr.  Nehlig 
has  resisted  the  temptation  of  ideal- 
izing the  dusky  maiden.  Kis  Po- 
cahontas is  simply  a  good-looking 
Indian  girl  obeying  a  generous  impulse, 
and  unconscious  of  being  a  heroine. 
Powhattan,  the  dominating  figure  of 
the  upper  portion  of  the  picture,  starts 
forward,  expressing  his  astonishment 
and  wrath  by  the  energy  of  his  atti- 
tude, but  not  by  the  commotion  of  his 
features.  There  is  a  sea  of  dusky 
forms  and  faces,  all  carefully  drawn 
and  painted,  filling  the   eye  without 


diverting  the  attention  Creoi  thi 
tral    group    of    actors.    'Hie 
passes  in  a  vaat  lodge  tapcftriH 
skins,  the  light   coming  in 
left-hand  upper  comer,  an 
fully  on  the  figures  in  the  forei 
which    stand   out    strongly  d" 
with  a  stereoscopic  effect,     Thi 
ing    is   rich    and     harmoni* 
plumes  and  ornaments  of  the 
and  the  costume  of  the  pi ' 
fording  an  opportunity  of  iuti 
needed  touches  of  pure  primi 
or  with  felicitous  effect     T 
whole,  the  picture  cannot  bot 
garded  as  an  important  work 
It   is    the  initial  effort    at 
repix'sentation  of  an  artist  wboM 
nical  studies  no  less  tlian  hii 
culture  and  ambition  fit  hini  for 
and  successful  adventure,    Mr> 
lig  is  a  man  of  untiring  ir. ' 
indomitable  energy.     A  ft 
his  studio  in  New  York  wa 
by  fire,  and  he  lost  thousaii 
ful  studies,  the  fruit  of  }i 
and  a  valuable  collection  oi 
armor,  weapons,  and  casts. 
nesB  with  which  he  bore    tiiw  cil 
ity,  and  the  spirit  with  which  M 
mediately  resumed  work,  showed' 
worthy  of   success,     Tlie  -*  Pocil 
tas  ■  ^  will  be  publicly  exhibitt*d  in 
principal   cities  of  the  Union. 


Szam  j:   TimziSL 


:-?TEU 


— ;-r    mijTr    ::«:;iv.£:ii-iz     ici.— 

u*t***  n  zit^    •::"^.   .: —    z- 

la  iir   iiuitdn;:   -    l..-     ^:- 
.    rUiiTirai     a     ilxZ-L  .."T77     _ui 

i-rrrriH*  Jt  ii  "iif  i-e-    -Ls___i. 
rtirT/Hi    ITT  -iKCvnir    vn..    ^n=- 

•••..tmii?    Uf   V/'il    it-  i.   XlT"i.T-r- 

"i*    4;i.:i**i:r^  urn    atv    iKr-?- 
:f     -.ii»*ir    vici     11     -■-•:: 

■i-r=i*->'*:»ue  /.I   I»:>ir.;)i.   uiil 

hat  lin*  j-tS  L~i*ai  ir.*-:  *jw*- 
The  '^x T*iri.rLT *  ::.mr,  1L.1 7 
rt£:rmin*»i  :o  *  :r*  -.':'*»*«  ▼♦•/.- 
remises,  ani  i^i^d}"  l  ro in- 
here. Thrir  *^<:tii***t5  2i;it  ii* 
Tom  th-r  rei*jr:- 
•e«:ripi5  froaa  :L-»  rrz.:^  :•: 
ral  pAla-^e  hare  alr^^ij  ^i- 
le  exiienditar?. 

OKT   OF   THE   DIRECT-.Rs- 

ic^toii  Co-Opera  tire  Building 
r  was  chartered  in  May.  1871, 
:apital  of  two  handred  thou- 
ans  in  eight  thousand  shares. 


■  ..r  Z  •  .:-»^:.  :.:r  :..:-..-?^  um. 
~ — --"^^  r:^T^  V  ;-- '  •.:..rr't..:is.Tt  ' 
I^'  £:       '       rrT^*       -;»■   *-■•   '   "...       A^fc.     rtt 

:rr:  ■  iir— m:..  1  -  i.  .  .-  .  Ti^rr^rji*; 
~i     L   v"^*-    .      -:.      ..      :  I..      :'^»-'::n^ 

I2:    _:?■  7:r!    i:r-;-    :.:::    ::>*.    in»'>»- 

!«:       Z-      -ZJ;       it       ^..    V.-,l-»     1.     titbf 

ml-z.z.    z     i^.»'     :_     rr*£r:.:.-      i-    -^itA^ 

■■-'•^  •'  =  —  :  -..i-r  \:\:i  Uu  ."iv 
•  : m*-     -     '..:.■:      ijj.v*>    uiu     u 

i5-r->;      -.-       :..•£      r.:-.vi:s-     -iys«      I    ^Ulttihli 

t:;^'*  ■:  lh.^  :r  *:iui^niz  In  ,''um 
.•.--  :  ~^  "^'f'..  ■•  viU'^'.iiHHf  »  nn 
IP  •■:   I-i*      .ui:;-;    rr^r**,    ?miuu*iiiI1i^ 

...'  •  '.r  Ldi — — iii'U"  "ii'U^uiiu  T«iiuftin 
r— !".   ir  k  •  'y^  *!    «)itt   IP  J  i  la'  i   irur. 

i«nii-?T  rinnua    If   mill    liuc  U'ihl  i.h:i> 

a^r>i"iuui"L  v'r.i  'ii-.irf  L":.k.:  •n.iiy 
":iiir  V*   v'lunt    n.T  !ii.!ii   •  ".fT-^iswA*- 

:•:  :r  i-'-mr  a  i»:iT  +;:  "ii'i  :■;  ,;f«ifIop 
«!•*  Ji:nn*  ?*'v.-:r,  ▼:■.:":.  ::  :>  <<*  o»^i^ 
t*:  ■  I*  -. :  •M^:i-''i:..i.  I :  * : ■■:  la  0 :  ji dd i n g 
'..:  -J:.*  L.Ti'^Lj  '.:c  '.az-^x  v.iimlvr  of 
j:i:l  i':rji^<.  »■:  .::v.:i\i  ;hAt  iho  Ul- 
-i.-*  TT-A  rt.ii!  i  i:  wov.'d  00  iiiort*  profit* 
ib'.j  \:zt  ':y  :-.:'.*vi".:is;  small  hoiiMOH, 
:"ri:  >■  .v.'.i  vw.tii.n  suiios  of  iipiirt- 
zie:.:ji,  :^^  latid  #v>  t';ir  us  nmy  ho  poM- 
jible  ui'.dor  a  coin ni on  nH>f. 

Tho  land  bein^  thon  our  own,   a 
commit  too   of    throo    wuh  up|M>intr<l, 


506 


Co- Operative  Building. 


with  aatbority  to  build  a  few  experi- 
mental apartment-houses,  Subae* 
queutly  the  committee  was  enlarged, 
iind  in  Sopti^mbt^r  pile-driving  began. 
Eiglit  small  houses  in  a  block  are  now 
in  process  of  erection.  The  general 
plan  \iAy  that  each  Eoor  should  be  so 
arranged  as  to  accommodate  one  fami- 
ly only;  and  thus,  though  the  entrance 
and  stairway  will  be  in  oomiiion, 
there  being  only  one  set  of  occupants 
on  each  floor,  a  tolerable  degree  of 
privacy  will  ho  secured.  Each  apart- 
ment will  be  furnished  with  water 
and  gad,  and  will  be  thoroughly  airy 
and  comfortable. 

There  being,  however,  great  need 
of  dwellings  for  single  persona,  or  for 
familie!:*  of  two  mem  herd  only,  it  has 
been  arranged  that  some  floors  shall 
be  subdivided  j  giving  the  front  to 
one  person  or  family,  the  back  to  an- 
other. Fortunately  the  rear  of  the 
block  will  he  as  desirable  as  tl»e 
front ;  for  the  directors  have  re^served 
a  vacant  apace  behind  the  houses 
tifty-seven  feet  deep  by  one  hundred 
and  twenty  feet  long. 

While  discussion  and  action  had 
been  going  on  in  reference  to  new 
houses,  other    plans    for   action    had 

%  been  discussed;  for  the  directors  were 
far  from  believing  that  their  work 
would  be  accoinpliihed  by  that  meth- 
od alone.  It  seemed  that  tljey  might 
do  even  more  good  by  buying  or  hir- 
ing some  *' tenement-house"  already 
occupicil,  and  remodelling  it,  so  that 
it  might  be  a  tit  habitation  for  hu- 
man ht?ing!*,  and  might  also  show  to 
our  citizens  that  poor  people  can  be 
lodged  in  a  thoroughly  decent  man- 
ner at  a  moderate  rent,  and  yet  that 
this  property  may  yield  an  ample  re- 
turn to  the  owner 

On  July  7,  a  committee  was  ap- 
pointed to  see  what  could  be  done  in 
that  direction.     Comioittee   made  a 


final  report  on   Aug 
mended    that    the    building] 
as  the  *^ Crystal  Palace"  tw 
five  years  from  Sept,  1,  al  ^ 
$2,300  and  taxes, 
proved  the  recorame; 
the  committee  authority  U) 
the  work, 

Tlie  whole  character 
must  be  changed ;  and  to 
required  time^nd  adegreiiul 
and  hard  work  that,  porh 
hardly   be    believed.     All 
were  removed  from  the  oeJ 
was  thoroughly  cleaned;  am 
shop,    which    hiwl    been 
the  time  the   houso 
closed.      la   its   place 
coffee-room  will  soon  be  o| 
the   remainder  of  the  cell 
used  for  storage  and  similar; 

Before  we  took  charge  of 
iitg,  arrests  for  ba<l  coudao 
almost  daily  occurrence.     I 
gratifying  to  receive  from  tl 
of  til e  police  for  that  ws 
jng  statement:  "In 
Crystal    Palace,    for 
montlis,  I  can  say  that  il 
in  order  fifty  per  cent 
member  of    more    than 
taken  from  the  building  for 
these  were  for  drunkenQ< 
la:^t  two  months  I  have  uol 
complaint  of   any  kind  fi 
It  is  most  satisfactory  al 
from  the  dispensary  physL 
Inis  only  been  one- third  of 
there  in  the  last  three  nioj 
pared    with   the   corr^; 
months  in  other  years, 

The  changes  absolutely 
health  and  decency 
pleted.  But  our  liope^ 
ground.  We  intend  from  til 
to  introduce  some  comfort 
house,  as  our  fuadii 
and  tlie  needs  of  tei 


I 


n^'ytf*    noL  viua.  xusns     iwTgnnnf     urxanxplsiui.    svok     tW 
rhes  ^&^J  uiw^T  xtt  su:l     imkus  o:  xih  jiirexi:  iz.  rouep;^  vxH  i^ 

iz.  ziiwi.  izsi  injCfetr   dx«*r-iL—  i    !••  iij4««l  u-  CFtsHain?* *'     Jim  mwx 
b.  »*   irasc   ▼"11  si«Li  iac    <f  Tii'-js**   iu2Liii«:f  "^la*   iccir^atiL  wi^ 

•  ii:  z'z-t  -'*:r^  j-*a^*  3VT»an  Tiunir   n    "Ui*    xi:iT»t!r  i»isn:.  ±r^  unan 

";-j2int*JELIi'**  .  X^'t.  2iin_Til.7TUflXi3  IC  TRXiZ  .; 

::r:  ^bZ-i  v^    ii^ic   l1  }»t!:!-  -v'i*  ^:    z^t    ikC«<=*e£  u  lusszz»fi»  ^nc^ 

r.reKiz-Z  —  ilr  f-xx.  rv  :.   i:i«us*    izljczjitt.     FitC  3»iqr  iibi»- 

r  asa*a«n^-*  ::'  ivri^rr-t^*  t^zi  i^-^z  ::.cii*  n.  j.T«:u«ii7  oakoa. 

j5  b«*:i  evil  PTil -1-      J-.-r::*r:  y:^>T     ::    ikZ-Lwi    7ji    L.  Ifd'.- 

:=  Trill  Vz  3J-ir  1.:  :ir*  I'l  -■:-  :.r7'-r-i-  :iki^3i?ti."i*  3;c  ':ia*viX'«UT«>' 

:a-i    will     >T      ir^.-iT-rl     -LI.":! 


re  i^^mi  z.'.-  r-t-x**:--  v.  inL 


re     «  fs^-jLiujaec 


iIL  list  of  »v^.i:-:.irrt- 1^1     _  .^^-.    -.^    *.:-*rlAr   z^^s^zl.1    rj^   j* 


rreasiaz  *-ir.>i**. 


i.  .  vM  11  i- :  -  J.  r  Aut*.  -  :.Lrii*i  id^M 


^^itlnm^    deUQs  of  Astfr-    whas  tisk:^  I  cocid  for  ^mw  vhk 


508 


Working-Men '»  Flower-Shows, 


Shortly  after,  I  vras  called  away  to 
a  little   rural   village   near   Bishops 

Stortford^  Herts,  While  there,  toy 
host,  a  certain  well-known  nursery- 
roan,  advised  nie  to  visit  a  neighboring 
estate  where  the  local  working- men's 
flower-shows  were  held.  The  flower- 
show  season  had  not  begtui ;  yet  it 
might  interest  me  to  see  the  place. 
and  talk  with  the  people  concerning 
them. 

After  tea,  one  of  the  clerka  was 
called,  and  in  his  company  I  went  iu 
the  long  Engli^li  twilight  to  see  the 
place.  Space  forbids  a  notice  of  our 
walk  aver  the  open  fields,  through 
the  old  churchyard,  down  by  the  little 
river,  and  over  the  mil  way  to  the 
lodge  at . 

The  family  were  absent,  and  the 
great  house  was  shut  up.  However, 
we  could  see  Harris,  the  head  gardener. 
A  buxom  matron,  with  a  child  m  her 
SLTias,  opened  the  gate,  and,  with 
hearty  welcome,  bid  ua  ramble  over 
the  estate  where  we  pleased. 

"  From  America,  sir  ?  *  Glad  to  see 
you.  My  John  has  a  cousin  there. 
Mayhap  you  have  seen  him.  Want 
to  know  about  tlje  flowers  ?  La  !  sir  : 
mj  John,  he  can  tell  you  as  much  as 
the  master.  Walk  up  to  the  gardens, 
and  I'll  send  him  to  yon.^* 

The  gardens  proved  to  be  very  like 
hundreds  of  other  English  pleasure- 
grounds.  Smooth  lawns,  wonderful 
mosaics  in  color,  precise  trees,  well- 
treated  water,  respectable  views  seen 
through  very  jiroper  vistas,  —  every 
thing  lovely,  and  according  to  the 
books. 

My  guide  was  loud,  in  the  usual 
English  fashion,  in  praise  of  the 
great  horticultural  skill  here  dis- 
played. *'  Should  have  seen  this 
place  before  Harris  took  it.  A  mere 
wild.  Good  work,  sir,  as  you  know," 
TbeU|    beginning     to    be     sensible : 


'^  Shows  w^hat  can  be  done,  aol 
good  effect  upon  the  cot  ten 
master,  Harris,  and  ^ii,  —^ 
employer),  got  up  the  first  wt 
men's  flower-show  held  her? 
You  should  be  here  to  see  tl^ 
We  have  a  tent  spread  on  tl 
yonder,  and  a  band  and  §| 
The  men  bring  their  plants 
morning,  and  at  noon  the  sh 
gins.  At  tve  oVlock  the  prid 
gate  is  put  down  to  sixpence,  \ 
men  and  their  families  come  i 
a  good  thing.  Takes  'em  a^ 
the  tavern.'' 

Harris  soon  after  appeared 
our   ramble   over  the    old   pb 
quite   spoiled  by   art,  I  gleao 
following  simple  details :  — 

Certain  charitable  people,  i 
to  have  a  working-men's  flowi 
have  a  meeting,  appoint  a  coi 
for  arrangements,  and  subscri 
guarantee  fund  to  cover  loss«« 
there  be  any.     Some  private  | 
are  borrowed,  a  tent  is  hin^dJl 
band  engaged.     As  fax  as  til 
exhibition  is  concerned,  the  df 
not  difier   greatly  from  those 
ordinary  horticultural  show  id 
The  same  eommittee  ou  fruit,  I 
decorations^  prizes,  &c.,  perfoi 
same    duties    there    as    hereJ 
peculiar  features  that    distin, 
working-men's  show  are  these 
the  show   must  be   well    &fl 
months    in   advance,    to   ena 
people  to  procure  the  plants. 
are  not  supposed  to  have  thei 
prize  held  out  is  but  a  bait  t^ 
them  to  take  this  very  step. 
tain  time  must  be  allowed 
plants  may  really  grow  in  tlje 
window.      No    plant    procur«| 
the  florist  at  the  last  minute 
received.      To   insure   real    l 
culture,  the  plants  must  he  bn 
the  committee  and  be 


WorkinO'Meik'f  -r>->ir<T-5tt:' 


IWL 


eiOP 


ot :  and  emir  i-iAri*  s-  niirtfi 

eatere-i  *i  rrt  *xl  Vtoi. 
?t  seems  qTi*rr  t:-  AiseriiJiL 
r  is  uniT-ersal.  &=.i  if  ?i"-nrr:-i 
J  bj  the  pec'p'c.  L:r*:T  r-^l«- 
eirone  ctrani:::::  ori-e'i.'Tr-^-K. 
s  show  their  Fir.r'e  i«*-lirz:- 
nd  the  father  reqD«tf  rr*- 
ee  to  eraaiise  Li*  s-ii-rr- 
rar«iec.  and  s-eal  -t-  r :?  nr.- 
i  femeij. 

hronsrh  the  Ions  week*  that 
nrs  nnisT  take  to  reach  a 
size."   father.    m-'-Ther.     a::d 

watch  each  unft-iiiiiz  »r-af  or 
:  hud.  The  wir.dow  miL5t  W 
CO  rive  it  all  p<»*?i>'je  S3ii=-b:Tir:. 
•h  must  be  rais'-i  thar  the 
a  J  hare  fresh  air  y'^arT.--;? 
?  are  urged  that  the  c-iVrT^ 
av  be   gained-     Ererr    rsn^ 

trained  with  gentle  nntrers. 
"luch    solicitude    the    fragil*- 

brought  to  jierfr-'^on.  and 
re?  brought  unwirr.nglr  crar- 
heaven  that  ]:»egins  bt-^Dw. 
ning  flower  is  r^erhap*  t:i;  jrd 
old  of  the  expected  sorereirn. 
flower  speaking  to  them  of 
nd  cheerfulness,  f  >r  all  that. 
:ttle  box  of  glass  filled  with 
bj   the    kitchen   window   i« 

over  with  growing  intere=t 
I.  The  handkerchit-f  garden 
1  ^  after  hours."  with  a«sidii- 
and  patience  :  and  celerv  dug 
•  same  soil 

n  the  day  comes.  The  tent 
p.  the  grounds  are  profusely 
d.  and  the  plants  sent  in.  At 
e  band  begins  to  play,  and 
and  lady  may  come  in.  At 
ock.  when  the  band  is  tired. 
rers  wilted,  and  the  show 
rer,  the  admittance  is  reduced 
e  shillings  to  sixpence,  and 
ring-man,  his  wife  and  child, 


aiaT  romf  :r. 


ffcT2-: 


!M>e  wbr  "bfts  the  prlMS 

i-r  2f-iJ  pi.:-r.^a-v-•:^rhe-bark 
•rre?  :  G-'^-.  tr-e  priws  are  ci^t-n 
lul  !  tff  .-.I:--,  b.'Wfrs-r  sTSkll  •, 
i."  r*  y.-^if  r.ajcy.  Next  day 
•a.-":  ^f  TiiaSt  rr..  If  the  f  ztraa^* 
'.-. -ff r  tbr  c.>si-  wrU  aTid  c-x^d. 
■t.  T:.r  T  r-ferr.-'TS  dViir  the  K>9S 

'.•:_  Tr-T'jjrz.-.z.^  fr.«n:  niy  r:«ir^  my 
rz'z-  r>:i  n-r  r:^.-Arh  the  Tilla*:*'  tc» 
sr-r  *-::3f-  rf  th*  :  ants  and  gardens 
ofrrei   f-.r    ??Tii>Et:r:.a   at  the  next 

The  rrs:  r?w  of  cottages  had  befo-rp 
^■a":-  a  fix-ry-jix  rard-:n.  Paths  six 
ii  c::e?  -cride,  r>?k-irork  ore  f^.x»t  hig-h, 
ai-i  gras?  eipn^i  as  wide  as  your 
r.  an  d.  Th e  p"!  an t *  were  i r.  proportjon. 
Not  a'.-  T^e  glr-rie?  of  Sydenham  and 
K ?  li  ? :::  r:  T'Ti  c  ^ -1  d  sh  ow  su ch  n eatne^s 
arji  deli^atr  ^kiII.  Xor  were  the 
plaiit?  of  a  rT?rre  pennyroyal  cheap- 
ness. Thry  dowed  in  all  the  stolen- 
c  T  vf  Miia-n  P.:.ll.:vk  and  double 
grriniuz:?,  Mir-j-h:!:!  Xeil  and  Soure- 
ziiT  dr  la  Msilnsaisc-n  r-.-ises.  and  fancy 
pinks.  The  laTir-st  fashionable  pelar- 
ff^r.iams  and  L^ghest  cost  fuchsias 
drropt-'i  br'=ide  the  oo::.ige  wall,  or 
=Tar».- i  in  ?T'':iidid  pnde  out  of  the 
kitirhen  wiiij.  w. 

We  ritited  a  fvrr.ery  two  feet  long 
and  one  fo-^t  high  that  held  the  latest 
thing*  out  in  :he  fem-grv-'vring  line. 
The  owner,  a  carpent'.r.  was  proud  to 
show  us  a  new  Srlaginella  bought  for 
fire  shillings  Oaved  from  the  lavomV 
and  destined  when  gr.'^wn  to  win  the 
first  prize. 

We  inspected  a  frnit-garden  in  a 
back  yard  just  fifteen  feet  long  and 
seven  wide,  and  containing  fire  pear- 
trees  (dwarfed  on  the  Rivers  plan), 
three  grapes,  four  currant  and  four 
gooseberry  bushes,  a  wall  cherry,  an«l 
six  kinds  of  vegetables,  all  in   good 


510 


From  our   Washington  Corre9pondence. 


condition*  Thia  was  high  gardening 
certainly,  and  a  practical  success  at 
that* 

On  returning  to  London^  I  endeav- 
ored to  find  the  dean.  He  was  absent, 
and  I  turned  to  my  friend  the  organ- 
ist at  the  Ahhej  for  information. 
What  he  told  me  only  corroborated 
what  I  have  written.  The  dean 
could  hare  told  me  no  more.  The 
flower-shows  in  London  were  consid- 
ered more  important  than  those  in  the 
country.  The  plants  grown  in  the 
mews  and  back  slums  of  London  are 
raised  at  a  greater  cost  of  care  and 
patience,  and  in  a  reflex  way  do  vastly 
more  good. 

CHAKLEa  BaBNABD. 


FROM    OUR     WASHINGTON     COR- 

.RESPONDENCR. 

I  HOPE  that  those  of  your  readers 
who  are  interested  in  the  higher  edu- 
cation do  not  overlook  the  modest  bill 
introduced  by  the  Committee  on  Edu- 
cation for  rebuilding  William  and 
Mary*s  College*  The  building  was 
destroyed  when  Williamsburgh  was 
under  our  protection, — -was,  iu  fact, 
held  by  our  troops,  and  was  under  the 
sway  of  Gov.  Pierpont.  the  loyal 
governor  of  Virginia;  hence  our  re- 
sponsibility for  itw  Mr.  Hoar  of  Mas- 
sachusetts, who  has  certainly  as  little 
sympathy  as  any  man  for  the  claims 
of  rebels,  presented  the  right  of  this 
unfortunate  institution  very  strongly 
in  his  speech,  and  I  cannot  hut  hope 
that  this  poor  little  bill  will  worry 
thr«:>ugh. 

It  ought  to  be  observed,  that 
though  the  State  of  Virginia  behaves 
very  foolishly  in  many  regards,  the 
necessity  for  maintaining  a  system 
of  public  education  is  keeping  its 
government  and  people  up  to  a  re- 
spectable  standard   in    that    matter. 


Thaulcs  to  the  Northern  3(ii 
and  Emigration   S  -fi 

good  normal  sch' 
for  both  races,  Thank^i  to  Ufa  J 
strong  and  his  friend*,  they  Unj 
institute  for  the  edutration  of  ( 
teat-hers  at  Hampton.  Th<»  Sm 
tendent  of  Eiiucation  r*  attru 
to  enforce  mure  stringently  tbfl  i 
lations  for  the  common 
large. 

The  discussion  on  the  Fn 
has  excited  the   mo*t  bitte 
The  debate  covered  a  wide 
and  it  is  remarkable  that  somt  < 
points     really     important    Hml 
tracted  very  little   general  nttr 
For   instance,    the    rem  ark  !*   ol 
Harlan  on  the  15th  of   Feb 
that  clause  of  Mr.  Sumner s  ; 
which  rehearses  a  letter  add rts 
the  Secretary  of  War  to  the 
tary   of  State,   under  date  of 
January,  1872.     'Mr.  Harlan  ili 
that  there  are  but  three  aatio 
copies  of  that  letter  in  existence  jj 
the  draught  entered  of  ^ 
files   of  the   War   Dep  i 
the  letter  itself,  sent  to  the  Stan 
partment;  (3)    a   copy  sent 
State  Department  to  tbo  Frenoll 
gation:  and   the   n  tj 

furnished  no  copies 
The   publication   of    such    a 
seems  to  imply  a   breach  of  < 
confidence  in  the   French  Leg 
which  has  attracted  less  public  l 
than  its  gravity  deserves. 

It  is  very  generally  adtnitte 
there  is  no  reason  to  suppose  tbi 
officer  of  the  United  States 
cemed  in  any  improper  actiod 
reference  to  the  sate  of  arms,  i 
by  those  who  consider  the  sale  i 
at  all,  during  the  European  wur,  \ 
and  inexpedient.  It  cannot 
tended  that  such  sal  i^A 

by    municipal   or    < 


From  our   Washington  Correspondence. 


511 


i$m  pfobftbW  that  the  French 
neiit  wwB   hndly  uaed   hj  its 

topic  of  interest  in  foreign 
has  beeii  the  discussion  of 
aunf  of  the  Treaty  of  Wash- 
^ggosted  bjr  tlie  Queen's 
Itt  tbo  opening  of  Parliament, 
ft  Gladstone's  hastj  and  in- 
mt  remiirlcs  in  the  coarse  of 
Lte  arising  therefrom.  The 
of  the  United  States  Govern- 
I  th«  note  of  the  British  Gov- 
despatched  on  the  18th 
sh.  Th«re  is  no  reason  what- 
ioipdUa  that  the  peace  of 
irill  be  interrupted  by  the 
which  the  exigencies  of 
flitics  has  gi^en  to  the 
diplomatic  achievement  of 

of  local  interest  has 
treat  which  attached  to 
ption  of  the  Japanese  Em* 
iou  know  that  in  strict  dip- 
jkognage,  Sionii  Tomomi 
lis  the  first  ambassador  who 
[been  received  here.  As  we 
diplomatiists  of  no  grade 
ministers  plenipoteu- 
powers  in  general  ae- 
ther minister.^  to  us. 
iioarily  maintains  an 
lor  at  the  court  of  France 
^T^irkej,   bttt    at    no    other 

not    knew    whether    your 
ay  ears  for  the  philological 
b«tt  it   is   said   that   the 
'  comes  from  a  Gallic 
may  remember  that 
bya  of  the  equite?  in  Gaul, 
■e    am^actaSf    clientesque 
Tbene  amtafti  are  said  by 
be  servif  and  Grimm   ex- 
vocd '  ^m  Ifak,  as  **  hack- 
BTf,   persons  standing  at 
The  word  has  got  round 


so  far,  that  it  is  now  the  emperor  who 
backs  bis  ambassador. 

The  ceremony  was  certainly  im- 
pressive. The  President  stood  at  the 
middle  of  the  long  side  of  the  east 
room,  opposite  the  principal  door« 
Next  him,  at  the  left,  the  members 
of  the  cabinet ;  then  members  of  the 
committees  of  foreign  relations  of  tbf 
two  houses  of  Congress;  next  (al- 
ways at  the  left),  the  assistant  secrt*- 
tary  and  tlie  heads  of  burt*aax  in  tht* 
State  Department,  and  so  on^  the  g^n  - 
tie  men  from  the  several  departments 
completing  the  semicircle,  all  round 
the  south  end  of  the  east  room.  The 
ambassadors  were  introduced,  fol- 
lowed by  an  equal  number  of  their 
secretaries.  They  were  led  by  Mr. 
Morii  their  permanent  mini:ster  here, 
He  was  in  full  dress  of  an  English  or 
American  gentleman;  and  he  speaks 
English  perfectly.  They  marched  up 
very  well^  and,  so  to  speak,  deployed* 
so  as  to  place  the  ambassadors  in  a 
row  before  the  President,  their  secre- 
taries behind.  Then  Mr.  Fish  pre- 
sented them,  and  they  moved  to  the 
right  of  the  President.  Thon  tho 
chief  ambassador  made  his  address, 
read  from  a  paper,  in  Japanese,  or 
rather  sung  or  chanted  it,  in  a  most 
musical  way.  He  then  presented  the 
letter  of  credence,  in  a  beautiful  en- 
velop of  silk  embroidered  with  gold, 
taking  it  for  the  purpose  from  the 
hands  of  his  secretary,  and  giving  it 
to  the  President,  who  placed  it  in  the 
hands  of  Mr.  Fish. 

The  following  is  this  letter  of  cre- 
dence : '  — , 

I  Thlii  letter  ttas  telrgrsj^hed  over  Cbe  eoaotrf, 
and  printed  everywhere  the  iiejct  raorBlim* 
Tberc  were  but  three  errors  Id  Che  de«|»etch.  Bot 
ibete  w^n  anfortunetely  la  the  three  motl  tm* 
portant  wordi ^  vhe  o&aie  of  the  Emperor,  of  the 
prime  miaktt-r.  andofthecApltat.  A.«  if  on  «  siml* 
iar  ooouiion  la  ITrmnoe,  every  French  delly  »hoaId 
cftll  our  Prrtldeot  '*  Geo.  Grant/'  oar  Beoreury 
of  State  **  Mr.  Fisk.^  end  our  eepiuU  **  SoilUi* 
▼Ule/*  —  Ed.  Old  aitd  Nsw. 


512 


From  our  Wa$hiHgton  Correspondence. 


MotrrsorHiTo,  Emperor  or  JAFAar, 

&C,,    TO   THE   PrKSIDENT    OF   TKE 

UxiTKD  States  or  AifERicA^  — 

OUR    GOOD    BrOTHKR    AXD    FAITH- 

FCL  FRrEXD,  —  Greeting :  — 
Mr,  Prrmdetit^  —  Wbereas,  since 
our  a<:ce»iiion,  by  the  bles^g  of 
Heaven,  to  the  sacred  throne  on 
which  our  ancestors  reigned  from 
time  immemorial,  we  hare  not  de- 
spatched any  embiissy  to  the  courts 
and  govern  me  nta  of  friendly  coun- 
tries, we  have  thought  fit  to  select 
our  trusty  and  honored  minister,  Si- 
onii  Tomomi  Iwakura,  the  junior 
prime  minister,  as  ambassador  extra- 
ordinary, and  have  associated  with 
him  Ju83ammi  Takayossi  Kido,  mem- 
ber of  the  priry  council,  Jussamroi 
Tos^imitsi  Okubo,  minister  of  finance, 
Jushie  Herobomie  Ito,  acting  mini^ 
ter  of  public  works,  and  Jushie  Mas- 
souka  Yamagutsi,  assistant  minister 
for  foreign  affairs,  associate  ambassa- 
dors extraordinary,  and  invested  them 
with  full  powers  to  proceed  to  the 
gOTemment  of  the  United  States*  as 
well  as  to  other  governments,  in  order 
to  declare  our  cordtnl  friendship,  and 
place  the  peaceful  relations  between 
our  respective  nations  on  a  firmer 
and  broader  basts.  The  period  for 
revising  the  treaties  now  existing 
between  ourselves  and  the  Unitfd 
States  is  less  than  one  year  distant 
We  expect  and  intend  to  reform  and 
improve  the  same  so  as  to  stand  upon 
a  similar  footing  with  the  most  en- 
lightened nations,  and  to  attain  the 
full  development  of  public  right  and 
interest  The  civilization^  and  insti- 
tutions of  Japan  are  so  di Cerent  from 
those  of  other  countries  that  we  can^ 
not  expect  to  read*  the  desired  end 
at  once.  It  is  our  purpose  to  select 
from  the  various  institutions  prevail- 
ing among  enlightened  nations,  such 


as  are  beet  edited  to  out  pr«E 
djtioQ,  and  adopt  th^oi  to  gm 
forms  and  impr<yre&iant  of  om 
and  cnstocna,  m>  as   to  be  tt| 
equality  with  tliem.      WiA  i 
ject  we  desire  to  folly  diisdeM 
United  States  Govern ment  tin 
tion  of  a&ira  id  oot  em 
consult    upon  the   i»ear, 
greater  efficiency  t'^' 
at  the  present  and  i  i 
as  soon  as  tbe  said  embaBsy 
home  we  wUl  emisider  about 
vision  of  the  treatieiy  and  aeo 
what  we  have  expected  aad  is 
The  ministers  who  ooii 
baaay   have  onr   confidence  i 
teem.     We  reqaest  yon  to  £it 
with  full  credence  and  dtie 
and  we  earne«tXy  pray  for  ya 
tinned  health  and  happin^ 
the   peace    and    prosperity 
great  republic 
In  witness  whereof  w%  bavQ 
set  our  hand  and  the  gtmj 
our  empire,  at  our   palac 
city  of  Tokioi,  this  fourti 
eleventh  month  of  foortl 
Meiji, 

Your   aH^tionate 
friend, 

[Signed]  Moin 

[Countersigned] 

JUICHII  Saxktosi 
PWai^, 

The  President  then  i«i 
swer  to  the  address,  and 
sen  ted  to  the  Embas^yp  the 
of  State,  and  other  memb 
cabinet;  the  committees  c 
relations;  and  (in  groupci) 
tlemen  of  the  several  defl 
Then  the  President,  Aai 
and  Cabinet  went  into  the  \ 
where  Mrs*  Grant  gave  an 
the  Embassy. 


LD   AND    NEW. 

VcH.  V,— MAY,  1872,— Na  5, 


,  irliQie  isFraste?''  eaid  Mis*  Halibisitoa,  entering  FeEx 
,  Btde  abraptlj- 

TwmB  eEDgaged  in  writmg  his  somewh&t  cclobnitod  leader 

of  Utah  Bs  a  State^  for ''  The  Bi-daiJ  j  HexnisjilieFe.^' 

kl  *^  he  nid,  startled  from  his  pen  and  his  sUtistiofti  "^vlie  it 

Is  not  she  in  the  garden  ?  ''  and  be  walked  to  tht 

tipped  on  it. 

I !  ^  nid  Mrs.  HaUhnrton,  used  to  the  wider  deserts  of 

Street ;  "  do  you  call  that  well  a  garden  ?  " 

ae  70U  looked  down  into  it  from  the  aeound  fllPiy 

For  a  **  fihed  ''  for  drying  clothes  made  one  aide  €»f  iU  tk» 

I  aooidier^  the  Throckmortona'  **  shad  "  made  a  thirds  and 

I  ol  the  houses  in  Stockbridge  Street  were  not  far  away. 

k  explained  to  Anna  Halibiirtan»  Uiree  minutes  after* 

cmi  1st  there  for  five  or  six  hours ;  there  was  aun  enough 

^ «— more  than  enough  for  her  violets  and  lilies  of  the  val- 

aon  on  the  average  than  there  ever  wiis  in  England 

So  ahe  could  have  every  flower  which  bloomed  in  an 

and  any  one  which  blooms  in  the  shaded  Amerioan 

'  For  forty  feet  by  eighteen/*  said  Pausta,  *Hhat  pivca 


do  yon  get  these  ravishing  ^noleta  ?  "  said  Annai  when 


— &a  j<  atista  parnea  Anna  s  tBrast  aoou^  tiie  w« 

palace  on  George-the-Third  Street,  Anna  had  na  coM 
a  violet,  but  one  of  the  mercenary  kind,  bought  for  j 

*^  I  own  I  am  beaten,"  she  said,  laughing.  **  But 
thought  of  having  one's  own  violets  oa  the  lOth  of  | 
a  spring  as  this  ?     Was  there  ever  such  an  Easter  a^ 

^"^  I  hope  not,''  said  Fausta.  "  Perhaps  it  was  not  Bid 
Island,  or  in  the  terrestrial  paradises  generallj,  as  j 
Anna,  why  don't  you  start  a  garden  ?  With  aliyoni 
have  violets  every  hour  of  the  year." 

"  All  my  land  I  "  said  Anna.  **  That  is  fine  I     My  : 
which  has  been   piled  on  the  Back  Bay.     It  iB 
width  by  sixty  feet  in  depth.     How  many  violeta 
Felix,  if  there  were  one  to  a  square  foot  ?  " 

"At  a  round  guess,"  said  Felix,  laughing,  "i 
seven  hundred  and  seventy-seven.  But  you  need 
lets. '  Hear  what  Lord  Bacon  says :  '  I  like  also  H 
nature  of  mole-hills,  such  as  are  in  wild  heaths,  to  b 
wild  thyme,  some  with  pinks,  some  with  germandet 
good  flower  to  the  eye ;  some  with  periwinkle,  soil 
some  with  strawberries,  some  with  cowslips,  some  vri 
with  red  roses,  some  with  lilium  eonvalUum^  some 
liams  red,  some  with  bear's-foot,  and  the  like  low  flowel 
sweet  and  sightly.'  That's  what  Lord  Bacon  wanted 
of  his  garden," 

"  Did  the  dear  old  boy  write  that  ?  "  said  Anna  M 
*'  I  never  will  believe  he  was  the  meanest  of  mankia^ 


Old  and  Ifew, 


515 


Mr.  Tngham  to  revise  it ;  and  )Ir.  Ingham  has  lent  this  bit 
id  says  he  thinks  of  treacherously  arranging  for  a  regular 

to  surprise  this  shy,  squeamish  author  with.  He  says  such 
id  popularity  h  veiy  nice,  after  they  have  once  jumped  in, 
n  thrown  in/' 

Fausta  read :  — 

—  I  helieTe  in  beauty.     But  no  one  expression  of  it  is  foiever  best. 
ihip  spreads*     They  say  this  is  a  practical  age.     Beauty  is  the 

and  perfect  do^er  of  tbe  practical.     The  age  bangs  loTely  ros^ 

over  its  last  new  locomotive,  and  tbe  grimy  engineer  is  justly 

'Kpica  are  not  so  conunon  as  heretofore.     But  there  are  far  more 

mechanics^  windows.     One  red  rose  per  mechanic  is  a  far  lovelier 

one  epic  per  age. 

—  Hut  if  yon  could  so  change  the  age  of  Homer  as  to  annihilate 
mnd  Odyssey,  and  to  ordain  your  flower-pot  civilizalion  instead,  into 

tique  time,  would  yon  do  so  ? 

—  Ahf  sweetheart^  yon  quibble.     You  shall  not  coax  me  to  fire 

hypothesis,    Wben  a  responsible  party  shall  offer  me  that  cboice,  I 

ly  consider  it     I  was  only  trying  to  set  forth  two  thoughts : 

an  age  of  beauty  f  and,   second,  this  floricnitural  century  is  a 

evidence  of  the  same.     I  adduced  tbe  locomotivei  coughing  and 

throngb  roee-wreatbs^     I  add  another  case,  —  the  lovely,  lovely 

that  of  late  years  adorn  so  many  preachers^  desks. 

-^Oh,  fine  I    Flowers  of  sulphur  used  to  be  tbe  only  ones  that  even 

dldomed  them;  unless  you  allow  flowers  of  rhetoric.     Is  that  what 

T    And  what  a  noble  hint  that  tbe  preacher  is  a  machine  I     What 

lie  did  through  his  rose-wreaths  ? 
^-I>ear  Lilia,  your  smile  refutes  your  ^>eech.     How  those  words 
flunmderBtood  in  print  [ 

iii*t  like  it>*'  said  Anna  bluntly.       **  What  he  says  is  true 

bat  she  is  too  vinegary  for  me.      The  phraaes  are  neat, 

I  must  borrow  your  sheet  there-     But,  Fausta,  to  come 

our  own  afiiekirs :  There  is  no  need  of  talking  of  our  back- 

you  suppose  a  clear  fool  like  me  could  have  flowers  of  my 

we  move  out  to  Sharon  ?    I  do  not  mean  gardener's  flow* 

mean  my  flowers*    Could  anybody  in  this  world  teaoh  me 

violets  as  these  darlings,  poor  cockney  that  I  am  ?  ** 

aaid  Fausta, —  who  loves  Anna  from  head  to  foot,  and  from 

'Auur  to  her  heart-beat,  and  knows  Anna  can  do  any  tiling  — 

why,  you  could  and  would  raise  pond*lilies  on  the  desert  of 


m  it  tiiat  they  fell  to  their  gardening  talk*    And  when  Foliz 
poo  tbe  sofa  for  them  the  slip-proofs  of  this  May  numbert 


516 


Old  and  New. 


wblcli  Mr.  Ingham  had  just  sent  over  to  Um,  they  glanoH 
**  Our  Spring  Woods,"  and  Mr.  Barnard's  notes,  and  that  dj 
iness  about  the  caterpillars,  and  the  new  French  flowers,  aii^| 
meanwhile,  gavt  Anna  her  first  working  directions ;  and  fl 
two  girls,  as  these  ladies  are  still  called  by  their  hiisbandsA 
themselves  for  a  walk,  and  went  down  to  Washburn^s  and  fl 
to  select  roots  for  Anna's  first  adventure,  and  some  seeds  fori 
These  were,  in  brief,  Fausta's  instructions :  —  ■ 

"  What  you  want  is  not  a  pretty  garden  to  look  on  from  B 
dow,  but  plenty  of  flowers  in  the  house  every  day,  ■ 

**  Now,  you  do  not  know  much  ;  and  if  you  try  too  much  yi 
be  disappointed,  if  you  really  mean  to  do  the  head-work  of  tU 
den  yourself,  and  you  say  you  do, 

*'  If  I  were  you,  I  would  be  satisfied  for  the  first  sununei 
plenty  of  sweet  violets,  roses,  sweet-peas,  verbena&i  and 
chrysanthemums." 

**  Satisfied  I  child,'*  cried  Anna ;  "  if  I  thought  I  could  ha^ 
of  those  things,  I  should  be  so  exalted  that  not  a  friend  in  \ 
could  see  me  through  an  opera-glass." 

"  Well,"  said  Anna,  "  as  to  that,  Jane  Baylies  has  abt 
all  these  every  day,  from  April  Fool's  Day  to  Thanksgiving} 
body  puts  trowel  in  the  ground  for  her  the  summer  long,  I 
Kelt  has  once  dug  it  over  in  the  spring." 

^*  Where  is  Jane  Baylies  ?  "  cried  Anna,  again  in  raptures? 
me  sit  at  her  feet  Let  me  admit  ignorance,  if  only  she  will  ii 
the  dolt  before  her.  Or  could  you  perhaps  teU  me  all  ?  Tell  M 
she  cried  again^  in  a  mock-tragedy  air.  I 

"  Not  I,"  said  Fausta.  '*  Mr.  Rand's  little  book  will  tclB 
about  the  violets.  As  for  the  roses,  I  will  give  you  a  list*  fl 
plants,  give  them  generous  bottom  heat,  and  a  top-dressing  fl 
sods.  The  sweet-peas  will  take  care  of  themselves,  if  you  pifl 
on  a  trench  of  stable-manure,  three  feet  wide  and  two  defl 
only  trouble  with  verbenas  is,  that  people  try  to  raise  theiH 
sun»  I  can't  have  verbenas  in  the  well,  but  you  could  &(B 
As  for  chrysanthemums,  anybody  can  raise  them,  in  a  decent  (fl 

It  was  in  this  off-hand  way  that  Fausta  started  Anna  on  I 
dening.  It  was  jiist  what  Anna  needed.  She  sits  in  thfl 
great  deal  too  much ;  she  got  that  trick  when  she  was  a  iM 
She  hates  to  go  out  to  work,  merely  for  the  work's  sake-  ■ 
garden  at  Sharon,  though  this  summer  she  shall  satisfy  hetfl 
Fausta's  five  essentials,  wiU  make  of  her,  before  she  kno w»  id 
creature.  ■ 


■  iilK  •M 


^Brooi  Fc 


5519 


M   are 

Am  drauiesl  of  v^ler  i^9% 

Sit 
Inl  baea  paiUMuij  iwcfibed  to  mme 

^  fllaei  ttnd  iKtia^  wiai  ^- 

ai  ene  ia  w^wm  Ai  iw—a,  aaint,  andre 

flt  tbe  Hire  Om  fev  wiimrii 

mdUimcmmm  aaiiBt|    and  aij  groatre 

id  TtnOtfed  down  tbe  hS  t» 

fiMiwt^j'  ior  a  ponm  at  ooee  «o  le-  ^ 

\mKuk  cm&sad  qail«  s  %«ill»  m 

SMeftaUi^  and  «a  m  aaed  of  reel  and 

idien,    putting   «p  Boik  §m 

^cnHB^  naie  aie  baep  aft  a  v€t]r  caie- 

irbo  «Uid  behind,  taM  ife 

U    ffiiiii   1      Oiir  ai  a  later  daj,  4 

»  with  no  le»  a  pcBM  ^n* 

Mbtm  Imimh^   enridwitaHy  &oe    tc^l 

D^  tKe  preadieT,  poci,  ttmi- 

&»«lii]Msrtate  ptM  voods,  did  f 

sd   lasttj,   paiatry.      Maw  a 

I  aBa^Mfwftt  at  hir  faqnejt,  to  en- 

afioeal  sool  pots  ona  ai  aaae! 

gHBaveBoitef  berviJsiable  time. 

BM  aanr  lAtf  &«  iBiarrieWy  when 

■n  oftt  apdogy.     Tbe  frai- 

«ba wm  «a  iMsar  ai  witb  a  rUit,  I 

ls  parlor  at  tlie  Hirm  vat  ba- 

ilnilniii  tibe  pdtilqgi  ef  giring  op 

t  la  look  eztmncij  riiiilji 

vjMMtaiviftD^pRpariog  it  for  J 

bobt  if  aoj  ooe  aaiieed  ^m 

larfBBHMa  ^tbe  bamiag  of  paa-  ] 

ktn  lltat  eTening  C  P.  C  ttp^ 

iSm  lugii  IbM  Ceaulb.     I  took 

Mes  of  hii  guitar,  — 

gMift  fioMna  alea  la  aerTOg  her 

fkmhaiA.mmmlW€itatr  ^ 

bandbfa«l  m  ber  wotm^  wmg  for  the 

i^!^i^i^iQit!^P^ 

C[Aelfcaa»ideoKaladehiiia  break* 

fctdg  #ned  ly  the  aetabUehmeot. 

li  wm  mm  mmm  of  tban  occtieiaoi| 

fapatb^tacaadiaBea.    la  av 

aflftm  Has  araa  abacq^  that  I  tought 

A  aptttmants  tlial  ng^  m 

ibdHv  witb  Sjbi  ia  bar  rerjr  limited 

lailbaflMMmd  m^Amrmw^^pm- 

faiftinf  at  tbe  Hita;  aod  Ibere  iraa 

bot  we  were  smmiI  fnnond  af 

M«adef  oo^gntaialMiOB  tbe  part 

1  in  betng  pei«iliad  la  cater 

ef  1km  lamm,  mm  tbe  arent  which 

ara  of  meli  cgyMto  sdodj. 

Ifaavae  tifiibir  agaiii  tot  a  whole 

pr  fOartettea  od  the  Tidic,  la 

week.    The  leboo  of  tbe  day  o?er» 

fca  took  part;  oa  «wd  pea- 

ta    rinm|nnx    wa    leriawed    certaifi 

ftom    tbe   ^Zrl   £ia&<'   vi^ 

fmbafia  of  aeCe%  vbidif  ranged  in 

ptse,   a«e>iit^iriiif  poae  aa- 

dnir  aipaala  aele^  in  the  Urender- 

imaiiti   iM»  ehanaiag  enca- 

eeiaied  apper  dremr  of  the  harvau, 

bom  bb  not^-book)  of  '^Thm 

callad  pMbapa  §af  a  aioee  eolighteDed 

mcM  of  tbe  Cbtlde  OonlBflMr 

Imtr  or  of  tbe  Harraid  ItM  m 

Itm  laariiwi  oaeapied   tie  till  a  Itite 

tmm  of  griodiag  oot  lalnieli  ri^ 

bear  ef  tbe  ateningf  the  more  im- 

^fiace   tbe   gloaing   lac^etM 

pottaal  a&in  being  two  merrtagei 

ballad  ffoag  on  tbt«  fint  e>v«»*  vbidi  had   taken    place  within    at 

ababby  little  parioa.  i^ay  awatbi^  —  one  of  ^  Ooody -Two- 

taelefacflit  dey^aad  «l  Hbaee  vitb    tbe  Tirtnoot    Basket* 

prot^ted  by  a  warn  do^  ibkts^  m  Xn.  Grant  Smith  latiri- 

bad  long  needed  bat  eooU  eaOy    egpraaiid     it ;    and     another 

Co  pitrdlttee,  Mjh  Fuller  mhkk^  aliboogb  formed  out  of  tbe 

'fliade   ber  appeaiaaoft.     Aa  itawiaiito  of  prerioui  engagementoi 


s 


JReminiacencea  of  Brook  Farm, 


^ed  more  than  ordmaiy  bappi- 
_^U^.  Our  satisfaction  in  the  pros- 
(^,  cts  of  the  last  couple  still  held  our 
^laought,  when  we  passed  the  ivoiy 
^te^  and  entered  the  land  of  dreams, 

I  was  sunk  in  profoundest  slum- 

'^betr,  separated  from   any   and   every 

theory  of  the   universe,  when  Sybil, 

in   tones  of  alarmi  sought  to  arouBe 

me,  exclaiming,  entreating,  — 

'*  Ob,  it  was  too  fearful  I  Bo  wake 
up,  and  help  me  to  recover  from  the 
borror  of  it'* 

She  was  sitting  up  in  bed,  shudder- 
ing in  the  pitchy  darkness.  As  soon 
as  I  was  able  to  comprehend,  she  ex- 
plained that  she  had  dreamed  of  the 
young  lieutenant,  the  protege  of  the 
Siren  ;  he  who  of  late  had  relieved 
for  her  the  tedium  of  the  unfriendly 
days  by  sleigh -rides  and  other  courte- 
sies, but  whose  regiment  we  bad 
learned  was  ordered  South.  This 
young  man  had  appeared  to  her  in 
great  mental  agony,  with  an  open 
paper,  or  letter,  in  bis  band,  on  which 
the  word  **  impossible "  was  alone 
legible.  Pointing  to  this  word,  he 
asked  her  to  read  it  aloud,  which  she 
had  done,  when  be  immediately  seized 
a  pistol  (wbicb  she  bad  not  previous- 
ly noticed)  from  a  table,  and  shot 
himself  through  the  temple.  She 
was  sure  the  blood  and  brains  were 
spattered  over  her.  I  quieted  and 
assured  her  to  the  best  of  my  ability, 
till  the  fearful  impression  was  par- 
tially dissipated,  and  we  both  slept 
again  ;  when  she  a  second  time  aroused 
me,  saying  the  dream  bad  been  re- 
peated, with  a  sequel,  in  which  the 
father  of  the  lieutenant  was  in  the 
Siren's  parlor,  using  very  loud  aud 
condemnatory  language,  —  charging 
her  with  the  murder  of  his  son.  At 
the  same  moment  the  clock  in  the 
dining-room  struck  ten,  and  be  passed 
aut  of  the  firont  dooi,  ^Wu  \l  it^ 


peared   that  be  was  not 
man^s  father,  but  bis  step-i 

Although  I  was  some" 
qnainted  with  Sybil's 
phetic  dreaming,  as  b 
not  always  pr^entimi 
rence  made  no  lasting  im^ 
me,  being  obliterated  bestdl 
after-sleep.  She,  too,  in  the 
of  early  rising  and  the  pf 
of  breakfast,  had  lost  sight 
returned  very  forcibly,  howw 
was  about  to  ascend  the  fri 
and  while  the  clock  in  tb 
room  was  striking  tenj 
then,  to  her  great  astonish  mi 
violent  language,  together 
of  weeping  and  Temonstti 
ceediug  &om  an  adjoining 
the  same  moment  an  eldei 
man  came  out  of  the  room  in 
aud,  without  noticing  eitli 
made  a  rapid  exit  from  the 
slamming  it  fiercely  behind 

This  extraordinary 
amazed  us  both.  Sybil  inda 
dumbfounded,  although  shd 
presently  that  the  strange^ 
made  all  this  commotion  i 
larger  and  stouter  than 
father  in  her  dream,  I 
cautiously  to  open  wider  th 
the  room,  where  the  Siren  ll 
couch  deluged  in  tears,  bull 
innocence, 

'M  had  no  idea  he  w« 
foolish  as  to  shoot  bimseU! 
plained,  as  with  ber  bandk 
her  eyes  she  swayed  back 
sitting  on  the  pretty  chim 
sofa. 

"  How  could  I  help  his  I 
I  could  not  make  myself  inl 
or  an  imbecile."     (She 
second  Venus  de  Medici.) 

Portia,  who  had  been 
Sybil  to  fill  the  plaoe  she 
QcicM^^   herself,    asked   thl 


SemmiMcmcBM  q^  Brook  Fa 


519 


I  if  slid  wen  quite  dor  in  Imt 
thai  sbe  had  not  tdAed 


fmmg  man  s 

I  Implied  that  ""alw 

ajs  deepened  tliA  ju^tmxm  |  tiia 

remmg  it  irere  tvij  iitya  «i»- 

,  and^  imti]  thejr  iren 

how  eoold  slis  Ikold 

iUe  for  tliat  wUA  tl 

\  abe  rocked  herself  to  aad  fieo^ 
more  the    hanh    ehairgM 
tbe  liUher,  than  the  vnBatB- 
of  the  soQy  with  wheee 
bad  Ml  aeldahlTf  ao  trntk- 
IbeiselL  She  vatdlMiai* 
tu   in  her  pneent  BMiod  of 
ragretfiibie— ,  — Tetj 
r  i^ptntoall  J  epequey  if  I 
a  terra.     *"  With  u,  but  not 
Pofftxa  wf^te  her  the  foUov- 
r^  and  to  whkh  she  lepBed, 
n  jing  the  note  wiA  a  kee 
that  '<  abe  vaa  awam  of  thai 
I  aiMl  loved  P^wtia  all  the  mote 
;  in  teUmg  her  ea," 
I  hite^  the  SifOH  laj - 
Ibe  widow'a  weeds  which  ao 
I  her  hl0lMlebaffa]ftdeom- 
[  a  reepeetable  aiiddie- 
a  dmggiit  in  BceCoiif  and, 
the  <^aiaeteT  of  "  avenger 
a  small  ciide  of 
fa  ceiatma  into 
and 


of  the  g»a<ciowa  PfOTideace  ve  are 
obliged  to  iorget  what  haa  been  db* 
ia  the  paa^  and  lube  it 
to  atti^*  to  oootrayeoe 
timhiw.  Neither  do  I  reiterate,  "we 
anmhhfdf  we  waaheot  we  aewed ,  we 
d  weeded  aad  reaped." 
Thia  mait  he  tahnw  fe  granted. 
Woa  amid  ladieompaiiioM  had  »» 


It  m  a  poQ 

la  thnw^t  caoEBOt  nae  above  bia  aiH 

Til,  hia  carpentea')!  beaehyer  hiaploi^^ 

mpRmed  ma  moit  ^m^ J,  *• 
who  to^daj  etaad  to  tiba  egrea 
of  man  J  in  a  more  leapiemirnt  Hgjit 
^Kbtare    to 
L    the    Lonne; 
pooRjf  deacnbed    herei    eo 
«hat  they  ahoaU  not  be  al- 
to paaa  away 


heie  to  aaggeat  tiiat  bo 
taader  will  expect  or  desm 
give  a  detailed  aeooont 
njr  alopptf  ^J«  there  were 
the  waah-roon,  oc^  of  the  ap- 
:  aigna  of  errbaqatioo  on  the 
meaabera  who  woiked 
.  ten  hoiLCi  a  dtjt  and  Mod- 
batidrw ;  or  how  aeantj^  am 
inallf  became;   or  that 
hot   not  oftea,  tbo  rice- 
were  too  dix*     B J  A  decree 


!Bm  pnww^a^  aspect  of  the  lifi 
at  Brook  Farm  Yaried  i 
no  three 
ceding  three 
be  oM^pa«ed  to  the 
thafmiowijeari 
and  ao  aagroaetng  waa  tbe  httt  phan^ 
ao  awiftfy  did  the  panorama  roil  bj, 
that  there  waa  danger  of  nmierraliH 
ing  the  pasty  and  permittsng  obBviott 
to  eoirer  what  ahc 
Under 

mipeDcea,  with  the 
joanger  and  mesa  elastic  natuea  a 
wonderfol  change  took  piaee  In  a 
jearortwo^aadlo  this  change  ererj^ 
feature  bore  teatimon j.  Cradar  faal^ 
itiea  were  r^nad,  mid  Am 
in  this  genial  atmoaphci 
throogh  the  smroonding  cns^  to 
]i|^  and  freer  Hi^  ttD  often,  wiO- 
oat  anj  distiact  endenee  of  aitiaftio 
power,  joa  were  jet  jnstifted  in  ao* 
crediting  many  of  these  jonths  with 
gwaa.    Fat  vha^  ia  Ht  In  Wta  ^^ 


520 


Seminiscences  of  Brook  Fcmn. 


niias  ?  To  hare  the  inner  eye  opened, 
and  to  be  able  to  discriminate  between 
appearance  and  reality  ?  or  to  see 
from  an  angle  tbat  reveals  brighter 
lights  and  deeper  shadows  than  others 
see  ?  or  is  it  courage  which  put^ 
aside  precedents,  and  writes  axioms 
of  its  own  ?  Whatever  it  may  con- 
sist in,  there  is  no  difficulty  in  draw- 
ing the  line  that  divides  it  from  obtuse 
and  respectable  mediocrity.  It  was 
the  conscious  want  of  this  one  drop 
of  elixir  in  her  blood  that  made  Je- 
mima 80  nn willing  to  recognize  merit 
in  others,  and  so  continually  dissatis- 
fied with  outward  circumstances. 

"  Fm  sure  /can  see  nothing  so  ad- 
mirable in  Pericles,  At  heart  he*s 
just  as  much  of  an  aristocrat  as  any 
of  his  set  in  the  world.  What  has 
he  sacrificed  to  the  cause  ?  *'  Or  — 

^I  don't  see  that  Thane  has  ft 
streak  of  genius  in  him,  as  you  insist. 
Whenever  I'm  near  him  he's  always 
talking  quite  stupidly.  Then  if  you 
could  have  seen  him,  last  Thursday, 
as  good  as  force  liis  poor  little  wife 
into  her  room,  and  positively  forbid 
her  walking  to  Boston,  when  ahe  had 
set  her  heart  on  going.  You  call  it 
*  balance/  and  *  tone,'  and  ^  kindly 
decision  of  character,  I  call  it 
masculine  tyranny,  a  domineering 
spirit !''  Or  — 

*'  Well,  I  hope  we  shall  be  able  to 
afford  a  bonnet  or  two,  between  us, 
soon.  IVe  seen  four  or  five  of  the 
girla  in  Sybil's  check  straw  this  win- 
ter. You  may  eay  no  one  goes  to 
Bo.^ton  oftener  than  once  in  three 
months.  What  if  they  don't  ?  What 
is  a  person  without  proper  accesso- 
ries? Por  my  part,  I  tliink  one's 
self-respect  fades  ivith  one's  clothes ; 
and  ouFi*  are  getting  very  seedy/' 

'^  Isn't  that  perfectly  pitiable  ?  poor 
thing !  *'  said  Portia,  who,  passing, 
had  guessed  at  the  b union  of  the  tale. 


**  Self-respect,  indeed !  I 
were  all  kings  and  princes, 
from  the  same  bowl  with 
and  living  in  the  light 
Parnassus.*' 

*^  Queens  End  print 
mean,  of  course  ?"  I  suggegK 

"Yes,  indeed!*'  she  repK 
dont  know  but  there^s  mon 
pure  blxKl  in  the  feminine 
the  community.  You  knoifj 
day,  when  the  question  wu, 
mcxjted,  who  should  tak«  can 
dro,  — that  is,  of  bis  leproay,^ 
women  sprang  to  meet  the  i 
able  necessity,  and  onl^  one 
Thane.  But,  speakiog  of  J< 
really  takes  the  better  part  { 
to  get  rid  of  the  wet  blaf 
crowds  around  you,  and  see 
the  soul  of  things,  as  well 
gladdened  by  their  sbimil 
shine.  It  is  doubtless  wi^ 
negative  in  the  presence  of 
but  when  Jemima  approa 
have  to  gird  on  the  armor  of 
ness,  or  consent  to  part  w 
and  hope." 

In  strong  contrast  to  thi 
woman  was  Sybil ;  who,  if 
was  inclined  to  over-estimatdl 
celience  of  others,  and  who 
powered  with  self-condemaj 
discovering  that  in  thougl 
she  bad  done  injustice  to  Jol 

"It  does  not  signify  that  1| 
the  chrysalis  state,  and  has 
his  shell  and  come  into  the 
of  his  wings,  I  ought 
divined  the  latent  qualitiei. 
of  passing  him  day  after  d^ 
holding  recognition  of  hb 
ties.  It  was  cruully  ungen 
me.  I  deserve  to  suffer,  ai 
And  I've  no  doubt  but  ah« 
herself  in  the  luxury  of  con 
penitential  psalm  to  suit 
stances. 


BemifMeenca  of  Brook  Farm. 


521 


rook  Fftmii  ms  elsewhere,  the 

love  (I  wUJ  not  «aj  true 

mid  not  nm  smooth.     I  had 

or  fiome  time  past  that  Hero 

ttle  irritable^  and  tmasttallr 

id  qtmt ;  hut,  aa  the  mood  of 

«aa  held  sacxed  and  inrio- 

alMtained  &om  interference, 

mlaDee  grew  to  sadness,  and 

t  to  evident   depreflfiioa   of 

1   bodjr.     We  were  making 

together  one  dskj^  when   a 

t    her   troohled,   pale    face 

re  ia  aomething  wrong,  dear,^ 
^  Can  I  help  or  advise  jron  in 
f  Is&H  Leander  all  right  ? 
»  T  lemanlj  and  de- 

f "  H  under  sheet  well 

top^  dear/'- ] 

t  what  am  I  to  do  ?  Tm 

milerahle.     Yes:   Leander 

il^  and  all  wrong  too.     The 

^  I  OBa*t  lore  him ;  and  he 

boing  ao  attentive,  and  won't 

bint;   and  I  haven't 

to  tell  him   the   truth. 

more  onion  between  as 

Bftssia  and  Poland/^ 

I    thought    jon   had   been 

■Krred    hy   his  manner    of 

bis  cmnae ;  that,  in  fact,  he 

lifteif  jott  into  loving  him  ?  " 

Uiat  state  of  things  laated 

o  dmjt.     That  was  the  moat 

•  tlieoffj  of  mine,'*  she   re- 

itll  ft  gesture  of  impatieDce. 

lea    ti    animal    magnetism 

i  Qntoa  between  minda  and 

Pshaw!     There   never   was 

atal  deloaioii  than  that.     I 

aunt  who  was  magnetized, 

r.  Into  marrjing  a  man  she 

|Murticle  of  respect  for.     Of 

m  iSact  that  a  man  or  woman 

agreeable    external    atmos- 

aj,    would    be    well 

'  tbft  deeper  affiatdas  existed. 


The  latter  mtut  be  perceived  firsts 
however.  I  shall  never  make  such 
a  btaoder  a  second  time^  —  if  I  have 
^leehaoce." 

**  Yon  will  oeitainlj  undeceive  Le- 
ander without  delay  ?  Poor  fellow  t** 
I  said.      • 

«  Ye» ;  that's  what  I  feel  Poor  fel- 
low! I  ought  to  hare  held  on  to 
mj  first  impressions.  He  has  not  the 
least  ability  to  enter  the  sphere  of 
another, — no  capacity  for  intioiacy. 
XothtDg  that  hold^  ooe.  He  baa 
character^  but  not  intellect.  Hb 
thought  is  BO  citcttm!»cribed,  so  want- 
ing In  variety.  And  yet  what  an 
honorable,  upright,  handsome  crea- 
ture he  is  !^  And  she  sighed  deeply, 
in  anticipation  of  the  work  before 
her. 

It  was  an  awkward  al^tr^  as  such 
d^ummerUs  must  always  be.  To  Le- 
ander it  proved  a  severe  and  unex- 
pected blow,  leaving  him  in  that 
unstrung,  despairing^  unsettled  con- 
dition, which,  for  a  man,  is  in  itself 
a  temptation.  Portia  took  him  un- 
der her  motherly  wing,  and  I  think 
proved  some  slight  stay  to  his  weary 
soul ;  but  we  were  all  more  at  reet 
when  he  was  called  to  do  active  duty, 
as  supercargo  of  one  of  his  fatber^s 
China-bound  ahlps. 

The  Charles  Biver,  but  lately  re- 
leased from  its  icy  bondage,  flowed 
cold  and  gray  and  still,  under  the 
motionless,  sad  clouda,  and  told  no 
tales  of  last  summers  parties  to  the 
island,  or  of  the  chorus  of  voices 
which  in  the  warm  twilight  had  made 
the  water-lilies  blossom  out  more 
abundantly.  Could  those  hours  be  re- 
peaW  ?  I  half  doubted.  My  charm- 
ing Hero  was  called  to  take  up  her 
abode  once  mofe  under  the  home-roof 
at  the  Meadows.  Diana  had  been 
five  months  gone.  The  domine  had 
been  all  winter  meditating  a  ehaage. 


af  Brook  Farm. 


m  wlwffT  vMr  of  i» 

«ij«  lie  OM  ^sf  ipp«rad  in  bis  losg 
villa  an  ndbttUft,  and  m 
i  laed  in  m  Wm^-mSk  bsad* 
19  ft  tender  &z^ 
bewMto 

blwiyHwi¥)ff,w  conpmx  with 
UilkaalHi9»  jtHBig  fiacnd  Agboola. 

I  sbooU  ktt««  tciated  thait  Mnw 
Qvjn  piior  to  ttis  aiputmv  oe  omc 
to  Heio  and  m  jad(  aal  l>>gS«>i  <>% 
be  erer  rctom  to  tlie  eosfr- 

^  Idai,  <Mir  wlkofo  daiatmior, 
M  to  «0  il  lelemd  to  him.  '*  We 
ahm^  looked  at  Imii  and  &poka  to 
liliB  a«  if  be  wete  a  saaot,  incapaUe 
of  beeenesA  of  aa  j  aoct ;  vbereas  be 

I  ooe  of  tbe  neuiesl  and  worst  of 
capable  of  tbe  meal  earage 
It  would  grieve  him  sordy^ 
Uf  bj  sbowiiig  himself  to  us  in  a  true 
light,  he  thereb?  forfeited  the  friend- 
ships he  so  high! J  prized.  Tbe  bare 
mention  of  such  a  calamity  brought 
toars  to  his  eyes;  hut  be  would  no 
longer  sail  under  false  colors:  the 
deferential  attitude  we  assumed  only 
increased  his  miserable  sense  of  un- 
worthiness.^'  This  self* impeachment 
was  in  it^lf  so  very  singular,  coDsid- 
ering  the  remarkable  conscientioud- 
ness  of  our  friend^  that  I  suppose  we 
looked  our  incredulity,  when  he  fur- 
ther offered  to  prove  what  he  had 
eaid  of  his  own  depravity,  if  Portia, 
who  was  included  in  the  charge^ 
.could  be  present.  There  was  no  diffi- 
Ity  in  finding  the  latter;  and  she 

aed  UB,  facing  him  with  that  ab- 


tmit  mod  oonfidieaiot  to  ' 
tbe  donime  objected. 

He   iH>w,  with  a  solemn 
opened  up   the   het&.    We  U 
nad*  in   a  tbomsaiid  wayi  let  | 
know  that  we  thottght  him  i 
of  nalke  ;  but  the  truth  wiKk  ( 
bad  beU   murder   to   I 
montha  and  months.     I 
timea  (ymmtkg  to  remember, 
aboiiild  undeiatate),  nine  or 
mm  flore^   when,  had   he  wetn 
Caalos  struggling    amid   the 
diowaing  alowly  before  his  eye^J 
be  could,  by  extending  so 
a  finger,  bare  eared  him,  be 
Qol  bare   done    it.     No:  bf 
ba^e  aeenily  rejoiced  in  hU 
aitnatiooy  and  have  seen  him 
pear    forerej-,    cunsdoas   oqI| 
fiend'like  exultation;  bfcatue- 
cause  h«  had  been  in  adf^nce  < 
in   securing  us   girls   in   s 
classy  when  it  had  been  hid,  tho  i 
ine^fi^  moat  earnest  desire  to 
that  language  himself" 

Ah !  hut  it  was  a  fine,  a 
satisfaction  to  know   ourself^s 
held  in  estimation  by  a 
and  true ;   for  it  could  not  bt  I 
the    ralue    inhered    in   the 
ship  mainly.     We  naturally 
waiTed  aside  this  portion  of  tlitf 
deuce  of  his  extreme  depr»vitj 
cusing  ourselvea  on  tbe 
in  our  minds  we  were  eon?tnefd| 
however  unexpectedly  to  bin 
would  at  the  last  morr 
trial  occurredt  have  ext 
quired  help.     Ho  was  p 
contrary,  and  went  on  u  i 
of  the  same  kind  of  evi 
of  which  we  gave  p 
ful  hearingy  but  fun  i^dli 

to  warrant  us  in  brmgmg  in  • 
bilL  For  once  we  were  divide^ 
against  one  \  and  separated,  asfi 
the  beloved  domine  that  ia  so 


MemimKe^cn  ^  Brook  Farm. 


523 


i§d  we  hold  him,  tkit  W  with 
eyee  we  had  mesm  him  dn  the 
dreamed  of,  we  ahoohl 

the  erideoce  of 
The  minted  ma  ef 

eetioo,  of  &ihixe  aad 
fiM«  of  tike  domiiie   aft 

I,  woald  have  taade  a 
a  pamter. 

fj  his  own 

r  saw  him  hn^l 

than  he 
dji js  oif  his  fftaj  with  mtL 

[mAj  Supmor  alao 

lift  time  Ibr  a  two^week/  t%> 

aad  w«i  heartilj  mi—ed  hf 

top    in   the 

^fSm^  wtd  hf 


of  the  washmom,  and  ehall   shortlj 
ti»  them   with   renewed  lest 
be    acoompetiy  me, 
with    Its   till    her 

whieh  had 

apmll  eoneenied^ 

thedifjae  orhttmaii  nalwe 

aaolber  attiF 

thmogb  the 

'f  demanded 

ia  the  BoeMA  Chnmh. 

BfVUf    and     Un. 

m  la  have  the  d^ 

who  have  suIk 

Sfovljrthe  faol 

out, 

ef  their  mental  eon- 

OM  to  Pi>r* 

W*»  it,  «e  aeked, 


taittlitiiiiaan- 

ft  sl9veor«Ktiiaee» 

of  Mrel  eaalta* 

If  elfcer  femarkahia 

f    Or  had  the  eaa* 


with  mtr  enida 
^Imfhefrfdeonile?  la 
mm  imif,  of 

hwe  of  power  aeeimnt 

a  m^mmnmulU 


ef  hii  had  ociatfibated 


riiee,  it  ie  im^ 

of  ratioMl 

he  winte  SjrHwhea  it  wea 

I.    ^The  bervJUe  hnAiutimm 

of  ili  devotee*  cMiU*H  tj« 


baek 
•vae 

|«afji«ii  bviigp 


624 


Meminiscmces  of  Brook  Farm. 


trusted  its  caDomzed  saiats.  How 
can  any  pore-hearted  and  clear>beaded 
person  believe  God's  truth  could  pass 
uncontaminated  through  those  brutal 
and  licentious  popes,  John,  the  ex- 
tortiontrj  Sixtus,  who  fi^Ued  Italy 
with  blood  that  his  sons  might 
be  wealthy;  Innocent,  whose  crimes 
grew  into  proverbs;  and  Alexander, 
the  assassin^  the  fratricide^  the  sen- 
sualist. Sit  among  the  daisies,  Sybil, 
and  with  the  blue  sky  above  you,  and 
the  free  breezes  fanning  your  temples, 
try  to  make  the  dogmas  of  the  church 
harmonize  with  nature  if  you  can. 
Undoubtedly,  poetry  and  heroism  is 
possibK  no  matter  what  the  intellect 
tual  belief  J  hut  there  is  little  chance 
for  either  in  darkne44S  and  slavery. 
*  The  Lives  of  the  Saints '  gave  me  a 
fit  of  indigestion :  can  yon  say  you 
have  read  and  enjoyed  the  vol- 
umes?" 

It  was  even  so.  Now  we  heard  of 
the  '  Nana  of  Port  Royal,'  and  *  The 
Exiles  of  Arcadia;*  tbeu  we  were 
ofiered  solid  volumes  of  controversy; 
but  Carlyle,  which  we  were  used  to 
take  as  a  tonic,  and  Tennyson,  in 
which  we  found  a  cordial,  with  George 
Fox,  LaWj  and  Mme.  Guyon,  were  dis- 
missed to  the  shades.  Kough  wooden 
crosses,  and  pictures  of  the  Miidtmna, 
began  to  appear,  and  I  suspected 
rosaries  rattling  under  the  aprons; 
that  is,  in  the  case  of  these  few,  for 
the  community  at  large  went  on, 
working  and  studying,  loving  and 
planning,  C|uite  ignorant  of  the  new 
theory  that  placed  them  outside  the 
divine  order,  cut  off  from  the  princi- 
pal sources  of  grace  and  truth. 

Sometimes,  hut  not  often,  the  new 
spirit  showed  itself  in  brief  argument, 
like  the  following,  opened  uninten- 
tionally by  the  reticent  Jerome :  — 

*'  How  touching  it  must  be  to  see 
the  church-doors  in  Italy  and  France 


m  all  the  week,  and  rich  &a(l  ] 
tViming  in  at  any  hoar,  to  aak  a  I 
ing  or  offer  thanks  !  " 

**  We  say  our  prayers  at  hoo 
cause   we  live  mostly  at  hoEa%^ 
plied  Portia,     "In  southern 
and  Italy  they  work,  eat,  and  i 
public,  and,  of  course,  pray  m  j 
They  are  well  paid  for  what  n 
call   a  comfortless    custom,    iu 
health    attained     through   the 
fresh  air  and  tlie  life-giving  ftun*" 

*<The   ever   fre^h    air!"     Ill 
Sybilla'slow,  musical  voice  that  i 
"The  ever  fresh  air  in  the 
frequently  but  an  ever  repeated  t 
of  vile  smells!     Just    thertj* — ^ 
she  rose  \o  \yo\nt  out  asp<:)t  in  a  Itf 
little  hit  of  Venetian  sceuc^ry 
hung    on    the    wall,  —  "just 
where  the  light  is  most  tendoS|| 
stench  is  the  vilest     There  is 
niBcent  architecture^  of  course,  i 
has  no  other  effect  on  the  people! 
to  keep  them   in  awe   of  the 
who   rule.      For  cleanliness^ 
tion,  and    sincerity^  you   mustl 
to   Protestantism,  which  now-i 
winks  drowsily  at  science,  and  I 
sotto  voce^  *  Go  ahead/  " 

**But    you  will    not    deny," 
Sj^bil,  **  that  the  worship  of  thd 
gin  must  have  a  refinin- 
heart  of  a  man,  tncliuin_ 
tenderness    and    leverenoe 
man?'' 

'*  No    one  can   say  this  ids 
failed   of  a   sufficient  test,"  shJ 
swered ;  "  then  look  at  the  hoan^ 
ness  of  Catholic  countries,  wht^r 
peasant  woman    is   a  beast  ofj 
den,  where  marriage  has  no 
ness.     What  influence  has   the" 
donna  on  the  Irishman  who  is  ai 
to   his   master  and   a  tyrant 
wife  ?     Ah  !  you  should  go   wli 
have  been,  in  France  and  ItalJ 
see  the  beast  in  its  own  den  i 


33b 


526 


Meminiscences  of  Brook  Farm, 


aspiration,  and  lore,  but  gaperstition, 
which  makes  ready  tools  for  despots. 
If  the  liomiah  Church  could  strangle 
cmr  public  schools,  she  would  then  be 
on  the  high-road  to  success,  in  spite 
of  the  unfortunate  illustrationa  offered 
by  Spain  and  Italy." 

Harlan  spoke  in  his  usual  com- 
posed manner,  without  bitterness ; 
Portia,  on  the  contrary,  with  excited 
vehemence  ;  while  Sibylla  concealed 
beneath  a  graceful  courtesy  her  hor- 
ror of  this  cmelest  form  of  oppression. 

It  was  a  year  or  more  before  every 
necessary  step  had  been  taken,  aod 
five  of  the  original  transcendentalists 
kneeled  before  the  altar  to  surrender 
the  last  iota  of  their  spiritual  in- 
dependence, when  the  most  zealous 
abolitionist  of  the  number  dropped 
the  good  work  out  of  her  hands,  as 
if  it  had  been  evil  only,  and  proceeded 
with  prayer  and  penance  in  its  stead. 
As  I  observed  before,  except  among 
these  few,  Catholicism  was  a  dead 
letter.  Just  now  Fourier  and  finance 
were  sufficiently  engrossing  topics 
for  the  more  responsible  members; 
while  Emerson  and  German,  and  the 
transfiguration  of  the  scouring  pail 
and  hod,  occupied  the  thoughts  of  the 
younger  ones* 

News  of  a  new  method  of  curing 
disease,  by  means  of  water,  reached  us 
^m  Gn^fenberg  this  summer,  and 
we  were  not  slow  in  testing  the 
merits  of  the  umschlag  and  '*  pack." 
Unfortunately  the  lay  of  the  land  did 
not  permit  of  a  douche*  The  Schrutt 
system,  or  starving  cure^  also  a  late 
importation  from  **  Vaterland/*  found 
less  favor  with  us. 

I>eljghtful  letters  from  the  domine 
at  Plymouth  kept  us  posted  respect- 
ing the  newly-fledged  Free-soil  party, 
as  well  as  the  success  to  be  attained 
in  market  gardening*  Private  word 
from  another  &ourc©  exp\ame4, — 


"The  customers,  witfi* 

nods,  declare  that  for  the  firsil 
their  lives  they  are  trsding; 
green-grocer  who  knows  hi«  pi 
always  trundles  his  wheelbi 
vegetables  to  the  back  door." 

"  You,  Loma,  must  certain 
down  with  Heloise,'*  wrorte  oH 
a  little  later  in  the  season, 
sea-breeies  and  the  ^  1 

on    which    my    foro; 
would  refresh  your  over^woil 
and  body.     Plymouth  is  liki 
European   seaport,    full   of 
romantic  history,  -7-  &esb,  hi 
hcious   to  an  .English  pen 
has  starved  on  the  new  httsA 
keedom,  who  is  half  dead  fx^ 
sickness,  caused  by  an  absen 
picturesque/'^ 

But  the  fates  ordained  d 
I  could  not  go.  Hero,  aa 
said,  was  no  longer  with  us,  i 
spirit,  and  Portia  now  shai 
me  the  quiet  and  the  vie^ 
little  chamber  at  the  Eyrie- 
ing  that  I  constantly  mu 
speaking  hazel  eyes,  and  til 
badinage  of  my  first  Kew  ! 
friend,  I  had  nothing  to  coiir 
as,  between  Portia  and  mys( 
was  much  that  was  congezi 
and  my  work,  which  had  \ 
arranged  for  me,  threw  d 
together. 

I  ought  to  describe  her,  3 
was  nothing  especially 
about  her  but  her  bj^b. 
decidedly  below  medium  heij 
pactly  built,  heavy  masses  o( 
hair,  a  pure  forehead,  nose 
nounced,  mouth  rather  un 
the  contour  of  the  face  ic 
great  persistency  and  force  ol 
ter.  Three  generations  li 
ancestors,  on  the  fathers  si 
inhaling  the  strong  wind 
\\i%  Zxk^dflc  Zee.     This 


T^ 


^Bnfk 


Cor  1i^  ejvB.     "^^^^ 
of  tiie  Bvtl^ 

of 
( of  aaDa-^CHUMi 
kefi.    Xhef  curtauiad  ill 

the  Siloot^  dM 

tlie  people  bj  Dote  Ah«^ 


It 


S27 

tlus 
fit* 


warn  ai^vlail J 

of  otfaeis.  It 

oocQpj'iiig  the 

«sacidj  oppott  t«  Ikim  st  llie  Ubie* 

m  levdKfslie  faneed  himMif  to 


moQugisitf  ttid  the 

wii^  ker  nov:  whea  I 


weretskj  with 
Tom  iraald  not  beltere  it ; 
ler  eofoet  of  good  fiuaOT,  mud 
quite  aspizmg  ma    a    giii,  bat 
g  joimg,  and  finding  ^ther 
%  the  etzngi^  hegs%  «*  the 
te  bready  with  coostaatlj 
nisteniitj,  nude  her  giad- 
tjkioeeB  her  hold  on  her  ideal     I 
I  oaa   taee  in  mj  jtmnger 
uid    ftetess    the    different 
mt  whkh  the  dropped    fiai 
•eptimtiQii  And  then  tlkat,  imtii, 
t  where  in  ntj  yoongeet  brother 
T«etige  of  an  ideal  diwppeetm 
had     wondeiM     phjneal 
I  and  BOv  ineteed  of  giring  vaj 
and  ciikkmg  into    an   eaiij 
I  woqU  hare  been  the  ceee 
wotneo,  she  gxew  impatient, 
Fathetr  was  in  aeoti* 
a  mformer,  and  g»Te  half  of 
V^*r\(i  he  made  to    antiflJavecj. 
ved  oolj  in  retaining  the 
le  jure  the  law  alkrwe  tnnxf  man. 


of  hb  pbeei 
and  feQ  hitxr  a  Taoant  seat  at  another 
mm  thna  fot*  ^^  dciicif 
ofdkeeUeet:  — 
•»Whj  doca  Ae  diedoee  aD  that 
that  leproachfal, 
appeal  with  her  ^nee  ?  I  feel 
Whaterer  bur- 
flMj  hare  borne,  what- 
eape  aha  naj  hare  been 
obliged  to  din^  no  epecdal  reqKinei- 
htlitf  attarfiee  to  ae,  and  I  won't 
cndnra  it  any  longer.'' 

''BiMijoar  heart!"  I  said,  laugh- 
is^  «1Im  Hatch  BepoUio  and  rery 
iahafowioQi  ooodsttons  tn  her  child* 
hood  hare  giren  her  that  expreet ion 
of  efBk  She  is  the  moot  eelf-reliant 
of  we  all,  and  onlj  enfieia  when  d\Ti?ll- 
iDg  on  the  anJBwinge  of  otfaecs^  —  of 

Bnt  he  wae  not  to  be  mored  by 
He  was  glad  others 
of  the  ^'profound 
made  by  thoee  eyea ;  fur 
he  eboold  redij»t  to  the  dimth. 
Peihape  Portia  did  dinilge  unin- 
tentionaUy  in  thie  way  the  deeper 
liie  which  we  all  conceal,  bat  ae  a 
zale  ahe  attracted  instead  of  rvpulling. 
She  had  the  natnral  &cuUy  for  win- 
ning  the  oonBdence  of  all  simple 
eoiil%wiepand  women  alike  $  and  where 
syinpatby  or  oeimetl  was  needed,  in 
a&irs  ioFoMng  lorer,  friend,  or  in* 
trader,  she  wae  more  often  appealed  lo 
than  the  lup^rieKf^orany  older  per* 
SOIL    The  sup^newrei  gwitlj^  t^&Mi^ 


wpfm 


528 


Bemmiscences  of  Brook  FamL 


and  cultivated  as  ^he  was,  yet  lacked 
nature,  and  was  wbolly  incompetent 
ta  advise  or  influence,  in  important 
emergencies,  vigorous,  natural  young 
persons,  not  on  her  plane  of  thought 
Her  love  waa  not  glowing  enough  to 
fuflO  tlie  wilfulness  of  the  one  she 
overlooked,  or  make  clear  and  orderly 
the  confused  thought ;  or,  if  injustice 
had  heen  done,  she  was  unable  to 
appeal  to  the  self-respect  which  lay 
behind  the  present  error.  While  yon 
were  in  her  state  of  mind,  she  gra- 
ciously accepted  you ;  when  you  were 
groping  in  the  dark,  or  tempest- 
tossed  on  other  shores,  she  helplessly 
abandoned  you  to  your  fate.  Pos- 
sessing more  than  average  social 
power,  in  all  fair  weather  her  sails 
appeared  bright  and  hopeful,  with  the 
rest  in  the  prettily-lringed  harbor  of 
the  new  territory.  When  danger 
threatened,  if  you  could  not  see  with 
her,  she  withdrew.  And  thus  it  was 
that  Portia,  who  could,  without  the 
least  difficulty,  comprehend  the  very 
spirit  of  your  circumstances,  was  to 
many  of  the  lads  and  young  girls  a 
spiritual  mother  and  counsellor,  when 
few  suspected  the  fact.  I  alone  knew 
how  much  strength  she  parted  with 
in  thus  responding  to  the  demands 
made  on  her  sympathy.  It  was 
somewhat  puzzling  to  me  how  it  was 
that  such  a  girl  aa  Portia  bad  kept 
free  of  personal  love  up  to  the  age  of 
twenty-three.  She,  like  myself,  had 
only  loved  vicariously  ;  and  sometimes 
I  did  wish  that  I  were  a  man,  in  order 
that  I  might  propose  to  her  at  once, 
and  thus  show  the  high  estimate  I 
had  of  her. 

**  Ah  I  ■  *  she  would  reply  regretfully, 
*'I  cannot  help  believing  there  is 
some  necessary  quality  left  out  of  my 
composition.  I  cannot  fall  in  love. 
Now,  if  you  were  a  man,  I  should  look 
through  and  through  you,  and  there 


would  be  an  ^ml  of  it.    I 
always   have  to   view   mei)^| 
men  especially — in  the  light  of « 
It  is  such  a  I068  to  me." 

Then  we  plunged  again  into  I 
work,  into  the  study  and  tb*> 
thi^ing,  until  at  last  so  much  o» 
ing  produced  it^  effects,  and  it  s 
doubtful  if,  in  mj  case,  heallk  1 
not  fail  me  entirely.  In 
avert  so  great  a  calamity,  it  waij 
posed  that  I  should  go  with 
and  Mrs.  Grant  Smith,  who 
planned  to  test  the  water-cun  i 
limited  establishment  of  their  \ 
some  three  miles  distant,  wb 
of  twenty  feet  had  been 
the  dauche,  and  plunge-h 
been  built  large  enough  to  §11 
I  gladly  entered  into  the  agnjtfl 
only  the  separation  from  Porti*  t 
led  me.  She,  however,  set  about  1 
ing  my  preparations  at  on.:^?, 
promised  to  keep  me  infoni 
all  matterSj  esoteric  and 
at  the  Farm,  and  the  re^unba ) 
be  looked  forward  to  aa  not  1 
distant. 

For  the  present,  then,  our  I 
the  business  of  the  three  ab 
was  to  sleep,  walk,  and  bat] 
bathe,  walk^  and  sleep ;  and  on  1 
the  new  regime  acted  most  fava 
Messengers  from  the  Con 
came  often,  with  notes  and  ♦•^ 
necessaries ; "  but  we  were 
ders  to  direct  our  steps  alway*  I 
from  "  that  dangerously 
place,"  It  will  therefore  be  1 
now  to  depend  for  a  while  on 
notes  and  personal  narration. 

"This  summer  of  '42  [she 
will  1>e  the  most  splendid  to 
Think  of   Dolores   [a  prima  i 
since,  and  dead  J,  sitting  oa  tho 
gray  bowlders  near  th©  Eyria^"' 
pouring  her  soul   out    in  song,  ^ 
Pericles  adding  his  undertone. 


Bemimscenus  of  Brook  Farm. 


629 


bt  listen  ennptmed.  The 
I  sings  is  often  ^ee  of  the  high 
ich  alwajs  destroj  the  e&o- 
>f  those  that  preceded  them. 
we  all  understand  now,  that 
r  notes  contain  no  pashos. 
training  np  to  them  makes 
er  gasp  for  hreatk.) 

"'HarklnMr.bik. 
Beloved,  hnk!' 

lear  that  ur,  those  times,  all 
Jie  ccntmiea. 

anced  last  night.  Thehors, 
End  Giegqrio^  ^^iBg:^  ^^ 
ht  hare  that  pleasme  bcdbrc 
sIL  Adonis  nmer  Bade  s» 
a  pictoie  as  v1k«  piv&m^ 
the  dance  vidi  I>aft(srea.  amd 
vraids  I  was  ltd  m  ^donB^ 
are  engaged.  We  w-an: 
Adonis  and  L  ^  ibe  -^nm- 
.  (whidk  I  ftcHW  sKiERsbkicifl 
it  did  mt}z  amd  I  «k« 
ly  great  satts^EMSanii  in  tEientr 
ns  of  nasoRu  azid  ■ffgniilh'  iii 
d  phases  of  hunasL  ituciEst. 
ned  with  «acw  sBfiRnzutoL 
snaeiieaaSsiKid  '^  irili^eBF 
he  aad  St%63  «&mi»  mv 
1  dedarcil  anr  msmnata:  ti*  in- 

ng.  sstci^g  JOkfi  dBnumdhif 
,  ei^'4f3a!g  a  «feiirm  fvmi  auim 
dm.  inoBlUBinir  unwtf  iu  -stit^ 
nfoc  sitafiifii:  lifafiK.  xnxu^  iu- 
impHismihrtt)  dhum  nrr  bisfsi*- 
3on  aokfl  ««9;nBK:.  I  -shhir 
wiDmfjk  locpt-  ^cl  mt:  m^^ 

I  iammi  Hftts  tnnKe  maw  n*; 
1  aa it  samnran^anggf  imjiuk^ 
le  ifcaa  iftie  tmBnuB-  ti  tui 
end  is  fir  yvm  imuudfmitiui. 


U  Jem  jm.' 


W  joa  not  at  last  reoeire  the  tendcrncM 
pei  np  in  my  hesit  so  long  ?  We  uru 
en^piged  to  lore  each  other,  ss  ara  all, 
wiih  uo^ieaksble  derotioiL  This  groat 
fimat  of  air,  which  lajt  Its  cool  moist 
hand  opoo  oar  io&ot  fi'jrebeads,  baptizes 
ttc  to  love ;  thu  holy  moonlight  bresthos 
the  marrijge  vow ;  thu  horizon  t^  sunset 
greca  sad  '^M  is  oar  wedding-ring.  Is 
there  panr  jof  thsa  to  stand  clasped  Uy 
^vshtst  IB  iu  eeatie,  with  our  e/es  npoo 
^kit  hoilr  spirit  which  Messes  and  con- 
firms art    SSjubs  aod  serene,  —  silent  and 

fat  ss  this  vast  s«a  of  love  on 

aHftMt? 

fif  a  thwwsttd  yesrSf'^so 
«»  yntiMmd;  the  sentniiy 
wancAt  «as  Wka^wa,  hot nev«r  t^^l.  'Vim 
mcioa  ^  tidkwr  wyM§  tfesdeth  with  wlilis 
ftea  i&MK-  IsIM  wares.  The  shsd^iw  of 
eusnntgr  ^ipvvdiilh  ktve.  This  boMmlkiM 
mkmMr  «wsnif  1»  ^vsUir  *'  (j^A/* 

WiilwuBsnfta4HHt,d«s#)«st  Fcirtfs,  ftliai 
4ntie  K  «iiiiHiftwng  mmfifaikMy  fUmp  in 

waot  w  ^doidmaitW  mA  wtijrM^^mn  7  <ysn 

-WIT  iffuk  11^  IV  ^Uwn  w^kAhnwI  a  <wft«ia 
iftuDH:  ikiat  w^  ebdv  aw«/  «v  «««il^  «m^1 
dbff  frmu  '&ttir  itffii^  47/lMr?  'IW/  srw 
nu:  iiU}fui'U4,  uv  rvnifvivfi.,  twr  prmytftftti, 
TmiT}  miu^  -chut  kfiu  C|nw//A  n^/^^ff 
sbaucf-  iftwuv-  aiHi  '.iti  •^i'..  ^/toiUi^  aim  s^ftMai 
jOfrvKTtivf  tlf"  ttli-|tvw<l  W^r  ^/y^^r  4Mc|  Jt^WW- 
jU»v4  mid  wjstHnu,  -^  «4lkv  AkMUl^  4ei^«nr  «^sl«4 
-tlMsir  vunmii;  ^     M'tiv  jUatJLt  ^yfbwvl  lit4fipM 

ur  li*  uut  iMi|:til  ftbvwjiiSli  <t.i.H".v^»^i'f  ^/^  s 
sill  iii^hw  'Ov**uiH(»/  -fiU  f*ti^*¥f*f'M  n4 
yui'  utl    tii*m%    it«>i(iMV*tv  iQU  ««'^  »M'1  ^^m 

m*.    t    iitatAi   lit;  ittiiMl  iUas^    w^m  I  <f^« 
}n^umiuvi   an;  lUtumi'  M^  ^^vwwvwMv^^/n 
V'ifn  f  will*'  viii  MiiafiivHi  ftv  v/^W.  •'V  >«M 
tiiuai^.  ;  i*wlH   r«(H  ^^A'i|i/  »  ^Un^**MW\ 
viflstrj    I'  iMf»iiii/<'    SU   '•i'rtU   AV/    •^Ht^iH^U^ 


Tike  Spring   Woods. 


Does  the  face  of  Nature  n*i?cr  chide  oar 
eJtc'itement,  rny  dear  Portia  ?  I  was  thrilled 
with  tlie  turbulenco  of  a  holy  ecstasy , 
wjH»n  a  glance  upon  the  landscapes  brought 
that  rebuking  face  of  calm  and  wise  supe- 
rioritj,  —  that  hand  which  does  all  thin^ 
perfectly,  without  hasting,  without  ressting, 


full  before  me-    Do  we  not  ff?tl 
omnipotent    aewnity    behind 
storms,  a  ^reoitj  which  is  oQ 
Nature's? 

Yottr  broOi 


THE    SPRING  WOODS. 


Thk  Sim  is  meeting  rapidly  what 
remains  of  winter  snows.     The  over- 
flowing streams  sing  merrily  in  the 
woods,  while  bearing  to   the  valleys 
their   boon    of  precious    earth.      An 
occasional  bin!  twitters  his  chickadee 
greeting  from  the  lawn,  an    Easter 
worm  is  drawing  strange  figures  in 
the  clay,  or  a  forlom  bee  searching 
in  vain  for  the  tiowers  which  are  his 
life.     Although  the  snow  may  linger 
in  the  woods,  and  the  winds  are  sharp 
with  the  icy  breath  of  Labrador,  the 
spring  is  ncnr  at  hand.     The  sap  is 
already  coursing  through  the  maples' 
woody  vein  a,  and  the  swelling  buds 
are  ready  to  burst  forth.     Every  bud 
is  a  study  in  itself.     It  foreshadows 
the  future  leaves  and  flowers,  so  neat- 
ly packed  within.     These,  in   many 
cases,    wear   undergarments   of  soft, 
non-conducting  wool,  which    is   suc- 
ceeded  by   over-lapping   scales,    and 
coated  finally  with   water-proof  var- 
nish.    A  business-like  package  is  thus 
formed.     If  we,  with  our  clumsy  fin- 
gers, endeavor  to  unfold  the  parcel, 
we  make  the  saddest  work  imaginable, 
tearing   and    generally   disarranging 
the  delicate  tissues ;  but  only  a  day 
or  two  of  warm  spring  sunshine  suf- 
fices to  accomplish  what  man   finds 
beyond  his  power.     Scale  after  scale 
is  reflexed,  and  — 

"  The  horse-chestnut'fi  little  hunda  unfold. 

Soft  as  ft  baby's  nine  days  old." 

We  have  been  given  a  i^po^sWu 


privilege, —  a  free  scat  in  tbt 
ful  theatre  which  Nature  nowl 
We  repose  grandly  in  our 
easy-chair,  intent  tipon  th^ 
and  the  actors.  The  audjeno 
small,  is  select,  applauds  oai 
it  should,  and  remains  seat^^d 
the  play.  There  ia  no  kp«ii 
divi duals  at  the  end  of  th 
act. 

At  the  foot  of  the  tree  q|| 
we   rest,   is  a   graceful   mu 
Mitcfaella,  its  greenery  relievil 
tint  of  ita  scarlet  berries, 
stream  sings  through  the  vi 
is  almost  hidden  by  the  bxoi 
leaves  which  overhang  ic*    Y{ 
the  sunlight   kisses   it,  the 
shadows   interlace   upon   itai 
and  the  clean  pebbles  and  loi 
like  weeds  are  discerned  beoi 
water.     Aa  we  stoop  to  drinl^ 
almost  imagine  that  the  hroQ 
have  revealed  themselves^  ♦*< 
and  laughing  with  all  theit 
Some  of  them  play  croquet  I 
pad ;  others  ogle  us  through 
work  of  ferns ;  while  othera  0 
see-saw  on  elastic  grasses, 
enced   by  their  winsome  g 
view  them  narrowly,  they  VK 
air,  leaving  only   their  peel 
things  for  inspection. 

And  now  the  play  begina. 
carpet  of  grasps  is  spread  t 
stage,  and  dandelion  tacks  1 
^\i^  m'&Tali-marigolds   \i%w% 


The  Spring   Woods. 


531 


ig  fbot-Iights ;  and,  hark  ! 
nml  chorus  from  the  swamp 
biid]jr   rtjoiciiig.       The 
I  ii<Re  of  m  bull-frog  affords  a 
to  the  high  treble  of  his 
those  uncurling  fern- 
the  »*  fiddle-heads  " 
Ofchestra  ?       How 
be  OTerture  to  the  coming 
[of  the  bird^,  of  whom  some 
d^mma  alreadj  flings  forth 
I  antbeml 

m   the  long  winter, 

i  new  stock  of  colors  with 

adoni  ber  theatre ;  for  note 

kt  is  the  blue  upon  the  rio- 

liow  brilliant  the  green  of 

-leaTed  yeratrum !       Be- 

)  faded  mantle  which  autumn 

the  earth,  we  now  can  tind 

able    Mayflower   in     all     its 

JWhiJe  the  meadows  are  jet 

the    trees    are    leafless ; 

I  ©Ten  jet  the  snow  maj 

.  secluded  walls,  it  sweet- 

spring  air  with  its  delicate 

It  is  tbe  onlj  flower  which 

poor  alike   Tie  with    each 

ibtftining;  and  if  HeaTcn  had 

bat  thij  one  precious  blos^ 

,  bare  still  been  thank- 

Doder. 

a  fl«*wer;  but  not  so  sweet, 

fciiig,  blue-ejed  hepatica, 

aja  bopeep  behind  the  rocks, 

wfa«te  name  defines  it 

tf^  merits  its  title  from 

position  In  the  chinks  of 

I  ila  lender  stems  persuade 

I  Head  apart.    In  some  por- 

i  coontrj,  the  uplands  are 

ig  dusted  over  with  its 

lovers.     The   maple  is 

its  ruddj  censers ;  the 

the  sbad-busb  are  flying 

\  botterfliea  among  its  silrerj 

[  tbe  anemone  ventures  to 

Amgile  beaotj.     The  UtOe 


five-finger,  called  potentUla  bj  the 
learned,  with  its  cousin  the  strawberry, 
bespangles  with  white  and  yellow 
the  grassj  meadows.  Here  and  there 
a  Houstonia  elerates  its  cross,  and 
invites  the  adoration  of  the  faithful 
Poor  little  plant  1  How  men  have 
conspired  to  abuse  it  I  While  the 
botanists  have  at  different  times  flung 
upon  it  the  names  Hedyotis,  Olden- 
landia^  and  Heostonia,  and  seem  never 
to  have  definitely  determined  which 
to  call  it,  the  less  initiated  have 
known  it  as  bluets,  innocence,  and 
Star  of  Bethlehem,  and  by  other  titles 
of  more  or  less  appropriateness.  la 
company  with  it,  if  our  eyes  ar^ 
sharp,  we  will  remark  the  diminutive 
speedwell,  or  Veronica,  its  light-blue- 
corolla  delicately  veined  with  purple. 
It  loves  moist  localities,  and,  standing 
with  its  own  feet  in  the  water,  it 
warns  us  that  ours  will  be  in  dange? 
if  we  approach  it.  In  the  roekj 
ravines,  where  the  falling  cascade^ 
bubble  their  ceaseless  story,  its  star 
reflected  in  the  glancing  streauv 
stands  the  sanguiuivria,  with  suffering 
root. 

And  now  the  time  advances,  aii<i 
the  scene  is  slowly  changed.  There 
is  no  awkward  intermission,  no  tedi« 
ous  delay.  The  columbine  comes  for^ 
ward,  arvd,  as  a  chorus,  tell  us  it  is 
May,  We  will  know  this  prettj 
plant  by  its  close  resemblance  to  the 
garden  species,  which,  however,  is 
less  showy.  It  will  be  found  among 
the  rocks;  and  we  are  often  led  tQ 
wonder  how  it  manages  to  live.  It  is 
a  very  great  favorite  with  the  bees^ 
who,  after  carefully  prospecting,  se* 
cure  at  la^t  the  wi^hed-for  nectar 
distilled  by  the  long  scarlet  spurs,  or 
may  be  seen  attached  to  the  yellow 
protruding  stamens,  enjoyably  swing- 
ing in  the  sunshine.  In  somewhat 
similar  localities  may  \xs  louudi  ^iX^ 


632 


l%e  Spring  Woods. 


pale  corydafiSj  which  is  like  the  dilly- 
trsk  of  tho  gardens,  except  that  the 
**  breeches  '•  have  a  leg  wanting.  Its 
showy  blossoms  and  long  green  pads 
may  generally  be  found  simultaneous- 
ly ;  and,  owing  to  tho  length  of  its 
tlo wiring  period,  it  is  advantageously 
tranfipl anted  to  onc*s  flower-pot  or 
garden*  As  with  most  wild  flowers, 
it  willj  when  kept  within  doors,  under- 
go many  strange  contortions  in  its 
stnigglcs  for  the  air  and  light. 

Leaving  the  high  rocky  grounds, 
we  pass  on  towards  the  woods,  observ- 
ing as  we  go  the  charming  vases  dis- 
played by  huckleberry  bushes,  typical 
of  the  grateful  offering  of  fruit  tliey 
will  hereafter  yield  us.  We  notice 
here  and  there  the  clusters  of  choke- 
berry  blossoms,  and  the  light  purple 
corolla  of  tho  wild  geranium.  The 
last  is  as  beautiful  in  its  way  as  any 
of  the  pelargoniums  cultivated  under 
its  less  assuming  name*  It  is^  how- 
ever, very  difficult  to  preserve  the 
gathered  flowers  until  they  can  be  ex- 
amined J  the  plant  withers  almost  at 
a  touch.  We  will  now  most  likely 
^d  the  stemless  Itidy's-slipper,  a 
member  of  the  large  and  curious  order 
of  orchids*  But  why  call  it  stemless  ? 
we  Are  asked.  Are  not  the  flowers 
borne  on  a  long  and  decided  stem  ? 
Tes,  they  are  pendent  from  a  sort  of 
stem,  technically  caJled  a  scape,  but 
this  is  in  fact  but  a  flower-stalk,  sup- 
porting no  leaves ;  tbese  all  spring- 
ing up  fnDio  near  the  root>  and  hence 
called  **  radical  leaves.''  If  we  have 
time  to  subject  our  specimen  to  ex- 
amination, we  will  find  its  structure 
very  peculiar,  and  we  will  be  sur- 
prised at  tbe  niarrellous  methods 
which  Kature  emploj-s  to  secure  cross 
fertihzation* 

Id  the  forests  of  Maine  and  Kew 
Brunswick  the  same  species,  which 
with    us   is  purple,  and  maxWed.  \iy 


darker  veins   of  the  same  caIoi 
often  of  tho  purest  whitfi 
species,  whofte  flowers  are  jfUuirl 
even  prettier,  id  to  be  found  iai 
neighborhood,  but  is  not  so 
as  its  congener.     We  mayfiiwl,^ 
the  graceful  mitella,  with  a 
small  flowers  so  minutely  divided! 
they  resemble   in  their  deUc«of  J 
icy  stars  which    Jack  Frost 
upon  the  withered  stems  in 
Its    cousin,   the   tiarella,  will 
far  off,  and  is  also  very  pretty, 
gold-thread   well   repays    ont 
search,  both  by  its  starry  flow«i 
the  yellow,  wire-like  roots,  fromi 
it    derives    its   name.       Ere 
around  us,  often  nestling  at 
of  gray-barked  trees,  we  will 
a  little  plant  suggesting  mostj 
rally  the  lily  of  the  val' 
false   Solomon's-seal    i 
folia).    The  uvularia^'^ith  it#« 
ing,  straw-colored  flowers,  fa 
thought  for  a  "  song  of  the 
poetical   and   melodious  as 
Schiller*     In  moist,  shady 
we  cannot  fail  to  observe  two  i 
of  wild  sarsaparilla  (  ar^ia), 
smaller  one,  known  as  dwarf 
is  very  delicate  and  graceful. 

Let  us  touch  our  hat  to  the  J 
buttercups,  the  yellow  and  btfi 
violet,  the  golden  ragwort,  aad^ 
star  anemone.     Kor  should  we  J 
the  charming  flowers  of  tlie  swa 
the  arethusa,  the  buck  bean,  aaAj 
get-me-not     In  all  the  coming i 
there  will  be  no  forms  so  uop 
ing  yet  so  bewitching  in  their  1 
The    bright    yellow   flowers    of 
g«>lden   ragwort  lure  us  on   tfc 
peaty  soil  and  treacherous 
where  we  find  the  nodding 
the  CarDlina  saxifrage,  and  ths  j 
in-the-pulpit        We    always 
when  we  see  the   latter,  and 
\xsA«i\»tev<i\i,ft  admiratton  of  the  i 


7%e  ^mng  Woodti. 


U^ 


to  ruse  kk  p&inted  cKiiapn^ 
ise  him  m  tiie  ttdacode  •cdT 
n.  We  hAre  aftan  found  & 
ting  of  tJMM  ^Tpatie  «s- 
kor  did  we  thiak  tbeor  m^ 
■e  endrelj  in  rjdn.  We 
ed  the  text  pezfecdj  vbeii 
d  oar  home,  and  eren  of 
ox  no  more  can  be  leqoitvd. 

heard  these  little  fellows 
.11  many  a  discoorse,  and 
it  that  orators  so  eloquent 
ak  to  slender  audiences, 
nly  a  few  words  about  the 
d  trees,  we  will  pass  from 
e  and  our  half-hour's  enter- 
Of  the  first-mentioned 
most  showj  is  the  rhodora. 
>me,  azalea-like  flowers  pre- 
eaves,  and  it  Iofcs  secluded 

Of  it  Emerson  has  sung 
tlj  ^  that  beauty  is  its  own 
r  being.''  Another  hand- 
>  at  all  seasoni,  not  a  native, 
iw  En^and  thoroughly  do- 
1,  is  the  barberry.  It's  a 
iie  flowers  Knell  so  dread- 
he  ixritable  stamens  are 
iotj  as,  when  toocbed,  tbey 
zing  towards  tbe  pitftii,  aud 
eot  seem  endowed  wxti  life. 
-fezn  bkK>nw  in  May;  tjut 
loe  is  wish  us  thziiu^  Xi» 


«nm^  fwwiff  «^^f||'  Hi  y/H\i\  m  |Vw«hi 

£x,  and  M  m-Wk  %^  fkY^  jv*4  AiH\\\ 
bat  «iwly  <viw*^ww*.  X%^  vf^^^  m 
tbe  AtttcKTai  wiU  ivm^^Wv  i\iAi  h^ 
mentions  havm){  a  Mm^Ui'  AiiMS^M^f>iS 
with  the  <kh^t  i)(  \\^  ^\^\\4yt^^\s\^  tkwA 

disCOUrMM)  pltHUMMIll^V  ^^t  f  h<^  «Hi«^«|V«  \s^ 

the  phonom«'ii«>u.  If  vm^^ltl  \\^^  9k\\s\\\\.\ 
impoMiblo  to  givDi  mori>  ihuM  A^y^^'H^ 
sis  of  tho  mul(ili|fiUitMi«  fivit^  ikwA 
flowers  which  hlimmMtt  ill  iliu  M)i^tMit 
There  arc  the  (Niii«|  ttMt«i  ahi|  lioitt'huA^ 
with  their  iHtmUtii  Iimmii*U  ihi«itM||  IM 
with  gold ;  the  c!hok0-lN»r»)'|  Hhtl  fltM 
scarlet-painti*d  oupi  and  MiHhy  iHMtilMif 
old-time  fri«*nd.  lUii  a  imu^u  Ii«I;  mI 
names  is  tiothiiiK*  Wn  iMMsf  «t)ii  iht^iM 
in  their  native  liaMiiU|  Mf«4f  h»m^  Hm^ 
bustle  of  the  i'My,  Ut  U^f^  i|i«>»m  ^UU 
the  aflEectif;M  ihwy  ilM»«»fvai,  Kvi^H 
now,  we  imtn  if;  hav#  MIi^wm^I  U^wmi 
into  tbe  kaly  w«></«|«^  ti^»t4  h^e^l  <li>> 
music  of  th*;  nhwly  h^*^A»f  ^U**  p^tf^^n 
iA  LJ4d^jj  mfUf,r^%^^  eipt  Uii*  i«;m^^/m* 
of  tlie  gr'/wjii]^  U«y4!«^  W«;  f^m^^f 
h'jyt  that  ii^i  Uai^wl^MJi^  fliw  ^/>v**4 
luases  we  hay*:  t^wu  a  ^tb^Mifi^l  y,t^«<fv 
U»  thu»e  whv  UumMI  v*/  '*v^  ^'^  liivi// 
Ut&eriy  aeUa/. 


534 


The  Vkar*M  Daughter. 


THE*  VICAR'S    DAUGHTEB; 
AH  AUTOBIOGRAPmCAL  STORT. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 
HY  PIBST  TK&BOK* 

OxB  of  the  main  didcomfotts  to 
writiog  a  book  is,  that  there  are  so 
many  wajs  in  which  ererv  thing,  as 
it  cornea  up,  might  he  told,  and  joa 
can't  tell  which  is  the  best  Yo«  be- 
lieve there  must  be  a  best  waj;  bat 
you  might  spend  your  life  in  trying 
to  satisfy  yourself  which  was  that  best 
way,  and,  when  yon  came  to  the  close 
of  it,  find  you  had  done  nothings  — 
hadn't  even  found  out  tiie  way,  I 
hare  always  to  remind  myself  that 
something,  even  if  it  be  far  from  the 
best  thing,  is  better  than  nothing. 
Perhaps  the  only  way  to  arrive  at  the 
best  way  is  to  make  plenty  of  blunders, 
and  find  them  out. 

This  morning  I  had  been  sitting  a 
long  time  with  my  pen  in  my  hand, 
thinking  what  this  chapter  ought  to 
be  about,  —  that  is^  what  part  of  my 
own  history,  or  of  that  of  my  neigh- 
bors interwoven  therewith,  I  ought  to 
take  up  next,  —  when  my  third  child, 
my  little  Cecilia^  aged  five,  came  into 
the  room,  and  said,  — 

"  Mamma,  there's  a  poor  man  at 
the  door,  and  Jemima  wont  give  him 
any  thing." 

"Quite  right,  my  dear.  We  must 
give  what  we  can  to  people  we  know. 
We  are  sure  then  tliat  it  is  not 
wasted." 

"  Bnt  he*s  so  tfery  poor,  mamma ! " 

"  How  do  you  know  that  ?  " 

''  Poor  man  !  he  ha^  onli/  three  chil- 
dren. I  heard  him  tell  Jemima.  He 
was  so  Sony  t     And  Tm  very  sorry, 


^Butdoot  yon  knevyoai 
goto  the  door  frheti  ftayooe  if 
to  Jemima  ?"  I  8iiiL 

**  T<^  mamatm.  I  didn*!  p 
door :  I  stood  in  the  hall  and  p 

**  But  yo»tt  mosto't  evfo  i 
the  hall,''  I  said.     •* 

This   was,   perhaps 
presstire  rewling  of  a  proper 
rule ;  but  I  had  a  rety 
for  it,  involving  an  tm 
in  my  story,  which  occurred 
years  after  what  I  have  last  sH 

One  morning  Pereivale  tool 
day  in  order  to  give  me  one, 
went  to  spend  it  at  Etchmond, 
the  anniversary  of  oar  marna( 
as  we  wanted  to  enjoy  it  tbol 
and,  precious  as  children  an 
pleasure   is  not   enhanced 
company,  we   left   ours  at 
Ethel  and  her  brother  "SU^ger 
after  Percivale's  father),  who 
nearly  a  year  old,  and  wanted 
deal  of  attention.     It  was 
day,  with  just  a  sufficient  n 
passing  clouds  to  glorify  —  thi 
do  justice  to  —  the    8unshin«| 
gentle    breeze,  which    itself 
to  be   taking  a  holiday,   for 
only  just  when  you    wanted 
then  only  enough  to  make  ya 
of  that  wind   which^  blowtn] 
it  list^   always    blows   whei 
wanted.     We  took  the  traifi  \ 
mersmith ;   for  my  hnsbaiMi, 
consulted   the   tide-t»blf>«  ^^n^ 
that  the  river  would   be   pa 
wished  to  row  me  from  then 
mond.  How  gay  the  river-skU 
with  its  fine  broad  landing  s4 
>[}ei^  w\30ci^q«^\rjiia  boata  ready 


mi  1 
>  I  Big^l  CM  IL 

i]nf«  1 

#|iictemaf 

to  e^l  k 

,  —  titaft  diffined  pc«»- 

alaiiFe  biowm ;  Wt  is 

Ail  abon^  ate<ra^  »d 
lb«  gneelfil  curtiiifn  of 
ytilew  and  dnd  lieffs 
iNii  liigpe  -*laaiiclied 
chuiHita]  vtodJ,  mud 
>  1^  thm  Hving  wtnd — e»- 
wi  A  lifii  aiul  naoUoB 


or   twop 


ig  boea  mMd  t^  htmJta,  I 

i  m  ve  gi>t  into  the  long^ 
hoUiMr  fish  vbkk  Per- 
^  Ibem  shoot  out  on  tbe 
hot  Ihe  filiglii  fesr  rmn* 
the  sooment  we  were 
,  tgiMwaiit  ms  I  waa  of  the 
I  eottld  not  hei^  fteeing 
Ijr  Fescirale  wa^  at  home 
9  in  hb  hands  were 
jttiJig-iiieedles  in  mine,  so 
L  wmmmaa^jt  so  Tariousl/^ 
field  tbeoL  Only  once  mj 
|isad,  when  he  ctcMxl  np  in 
kiiig  tiling  —  a  mere  length 
^f^dtb  —  to  pull  off  hiB  coat 
keiHil;  bat  he  stood  stead j, 
kgaotly,  took  hid  Oikts  quietlj, 
kiaa  iaet»nt#re  were  ehoot- 
lit  tlifmtgh  the  rising  tide 
|med  M  if  W6  were  pulling 
f  up  to  Biclimond, 
a'fe  jroii  like  to  steer?" 
sbaiid.     "  It  would  amose 

like  to  learn,"  I  said, 
I  wmal  to  heamusedf  I 


ThMi  win  ^    Kow, 
e  to  g»  to  jrovr  iigbt» 
evd;   if  jo« 
SMtofB  tojwrfeft^flitt  joar 
kft-lMUfed  ottet" 

I  iMiadft  aa  expecsneat 
aad  iDcmd  tke  pradietod  < 
&Qow:  I  ima  lua  agcoud,  fixsl  «Na 
one  baak,  then  oo  tb«  other.  But 
whea  I  did  eo  a  thizd  ^mt^  — 

""CoiBd!  come!"  he  said:  "this 
von^K  ds^Mn^Peteivmle.  You'teiiot 
^'J^S  jwu*  best  There  it  such  * 
thiAg  aa  gndatiaa  ia  steering  as  well 
as  ia  paiattag^  or  nasie,  or  any  thing 
else  thai  is  wocth  doing.*' 

'^ I  pall  the  right  line,  dou^t  I?'' 
I  said ;  lor  I  wae  now  in  a  mood  to 


"Tee  —  to  a  wrong  nesult/'  he 
answered.  ^Yoa  must  feel  your 
radder,  as  jon  would  the  mouth  of 
jour  horse  with  the  bit,  and  not  do 
anj  thing  Yiolent,  except  in  urgent 
necessity." 

I  answered  by  turning  the  head  of 
the  boat  right  towards  the  nearer 
hank. 

**l  see!"  he  said«  with  a  twinkle 
in  his  eyes.  **  I  have  pat  a  danger- 
ous power  into  your  hands.  But 
never  mind.  The  queen  may  decree 
as  she  likes ;  hat  the  sinews  of  waTy 
you  know  "  — 

I  thought  he  meant  that  if  I  went 
on  with  my  arbitrary  beliavior,  he 
would  drc»p  his  oaw ;  «md  for  a  little 
while  I  behaved  better.  Soon,  buw- 
ever^  the  spirit  of  mischief  prompting 
me,  I  began  my  tricks  again :  to  my 
surprise  I  foand  that  I  had  no  more 
command  over  the  boat  tliun  over  the 
huge  barge,  which,  with  its  great 
red-brown  sail,  was  &lo^\y  «&etu^v\k^ 


«iJI 


dae 


The  Vicar^B  Daughter, 


I   couldB^t  turn   ita 
in  ^le    direction    I 


in  front  of  us; 
head  an  inch 
wanted. 

^  What  does  it  mean^  Percivale  ?  " 
I  cried,  pulling  with  all  my  might, 
and  leaning  forward  that  I  might 
pull  the  harder, 

"  What  does  what  mean  ?  '^  he 
returned  coolly. 

<'  That  I  can't  more  the  boat" 

**  Oh  !     It  means  that  I  have  re- 
^Sumed  the  reins  of  government" 

"  But  how  ?    1  can't  understand  it" 

"  And  I  am  wiser  than  to  make  you 
too  wise.  Education  is  not  a  panacea 
for  moral  evils.  I  quote  your  father, 
my  dear/* 

And  he  pulled  away  as  if  oothing 
were  the  matter. 

^Please,  I  like  steering/'  I  eaid 
remonstratingly. 

**  And  I  like  rowing.'* 

**  I  don^t  see  why  the  two  shouldn't 
go  together" 

♦'Kor  L  They  ought  But  not 
only  doesi  the  steering  depend  on  the 
rowing,  hut  the  rower  can  steer  him- 
self/* 

'^  I  will  he  a  good  girl^  and  steer 
properly/* 

**  Very  well ;  steer  away*" 

He  looked  ehorewards  as  he  spoke  | 
and  then  first  I  became  aware  that 
he  had  been  watching  my  hands  all 
the  time.  The  boat  now  obeyed  my 
lightest  touch. 

How  merrily  the  water  rippled  in 
the  sun  and  the  wind  I  while  so  re- 
sponsive were  our  feelings  to  the  play 
of  light  and  shade  around  us,  tlmt 
more  than  once  when  a  cloud  crossed 
US,  I  saw  its  shadow  turn  almost  into 
sadness  on  the  countenance  of  my 
companion,  —  to  vanish  the  next  mo- 
ment when  the  one  sun  above  and 
the  thousand  mimic  suns  below  shone 
out  in  universal  laughter.  When  a 
0taamer  came  in  sig^t>  or  fj^nnousic^^ 


its  approach   by  the  far-h»'aini 
of    iti  beating   paddles^  it 
with  it  a  few  moments  of  ala 
responsibility;  but  I  fcnuid 
presence  of  danger  and  duty  t 
instead  of  making  me  ft^^l  fla 
composed    my    nerves,   and    «" 
me  to  coneentmte  my  wi 
on   getting  the  head  o: 
nearly  as   possible   at  right 
with  the  waves  from  the  paddki|| 
Percivale  had  told  IXM  that  if  i 
any   size   s track  ua  on  the 
would  most  probably  capstxe  tta 
the  way  to  giro  pleasure  to  my  \ 
ers  can  hardly  be  to  let  myself  | 
garrulous  in  the  memory  of  an  j 
cient   pleasure   of  my  own.     I| 
say  nothing  more  of  the  delig 
that  day.     They  were  such  a  eo 
to  its  cloee,  that   twelve  monU 
least    elapsed     before     I    was' 
to  look   back    upon   them  with 
shudder;  for  I  could  not  rid  n 
of  the  foolish  feeling  that  our 
ment  had  been  somehow  to  blaii 
what  was  happening  at  home 
we   were  thus   revelling   in    b)< 
carelessness. 

When  we  reached  our  littls  i 
rather  late  in  the  evening,  I  foiiBitl 
my  annoyance  that  the  front 
was  open.  It  had  been  a  fittlll 
which  I  thought  I  had  corsd, 
cook,  —  to  leave  it  thus  when  \ 
out  to  fetch  any  thing.  Pen 
went  down  to  tho  study ;  and  I  ^ 
into  the  drawing-room,  about 
the  bell  in  anger.  There,  to  my 
prise  and  farthir  annoyance,  I 
Sarah,  seated  on  the  sofa  with  M 
head  in  her  hands,  and  little  Bed 
wide  awake  on  the  floor,  ' 

*<  What  dom  this  mean  ?"  I  i 
"The    front     door    open! 
Koger  still  up  t  and  yon  avatod  ia  1 
drawing-room  I " 

"^O  ma.'am  t "  she  akoioil  i 


Tlfce  Vicar's  Daughter. 


537 


tOOBietit  I  spoke,  and, 
I  hjul  pot  my  angry  in- 
n,  jut  sble  to  gasp  out  — 

ftmodheri  ma'am?" 
id  whom?-'  I  retarned  in 
Ih  M  the  question  and  at  the 
M  girl ;  for  through  the  dusk 
w  that  it  was  Tery  pale^  and 
eyes  were  red  vrxth  crying. 
Etbeif'*  she  answered  in  a 
h1  with  a  aob ;  and  dropping 
the  sofa,  she  hid  her  face 
between  her  hands. 
id  to  the  stQdy-door»  and 
Mdvale;  then  retiimed  to 
ditf  gill  I  wonder  now  that 
Ihtng  imtrageoas;  hut  fear 
foDy,  and  made  me  tm- 
cafm. 

I  said,  as  qnietly  as  I 
lOe  I  tx«mhled  all  over,  *'  teU 
has  luippened.  Where  is 
f  "^ 

»d  it*s  Qoi  my  fault,  ma^am. 
y  with  Master  Eoger,  and 
yt^  was    down    stairs  with 

PS    is    she?"     I    repeated 

i^t  know  DO  more  than  die 


je^a  Jetttma  ?  " 
Ml  to  look  for  her?  ^' 
long  have  yoci  missed  her  ?  '^ 
Or  perhaps  two  hoon* 
tnoWf  my  head's  in  snch  a 
ean*t  rememher  when  I  saw 
O   ma'am!     What   ^aU 


come  np^  and   was 
When  I  looked 
pale  as  death;  and 
tghc  of   his  face,  I  neariy 
the  floor*     But  he  caught 
p  and  said,  in  a  roice  so 
'  ^11  that  it  frightened  me 
any  thing*  — 
ray  k^re ;  do  not  gire  wajv 


for  we  must  go  to  the  police  at  once/' 
Then,  taming  to  Sarah,  "Have 
you  searched  the  house  and  garden  ?  " 
he  asked. 

"Yes^sir;  every  hole  and  comer. 
WeVe  looked  under  every  bed^  and 
into  every  cupboard  and  idlest,  —  the 
coal-cellar,  the  boxroom,  —  every- 
where," 

«  The  bathroom  ?  "  I  cried 

*^0h,  yea,  ma^aml  the  bathroom, 
and  everywhere." 

*^  Have  there  been  any  tramps  about 
the  house  since  we  left  ?  "  Fercivale 
asked. 

'^Not  that  I  know  of;  but  the  nttr- 
sery  window  looks  into  the  garden, 
you  know,  sir.  Jemima  didn't  men- 
tion it" 

^^  Come  then,  my  dear,"  said  my 
husband* 

He  compelled  me  to  swallow  a  glass 
of  wine,  and  led  me  away»  almost  on- 
conscious  of  my  bodily  movements, 
to  the  nearest  cab*stand.  I  wondered 
afterwards,  when  I  recalled  the  calm 
gaze  with  which  he  glanced  along  the 
line,  and  chose  the  hone  whos/  ap* 
pearance  promised  the  best  speed.  In 
a  few  minutes  we  were  telling  the  in- 
spector at  the  police-station  in  Albany 
Street  what  had  happened*  He  took 
a  sheet  of  paper,  and  asking  one 
question  after  another  about  her  age, 
appearance,  and  dresd,  wrote  dowa 
our  answers.  He  then  called  a  mail, 
to  whom  be  gave  the  paper,  with  some 
words  of  direction^ 

^  The  men  are  itow  going  on  their 
beats  for  the  night,"  he  said,  turning 
again  to  us,  *^  They  will  all  hear  the 
description  of  the  child,  and  some  of 
them  have  oideis  to  search." 

'<  Thank  yoo,"  said  my  husband. 
«"  Which  station  had  we  better  go  to 
next?*' 

<'The  news  will  be  ai  the  tetheat 
before  yoo  can  ieac\k  die  DAixti^  \ria 


538 


The  Vicar  *s  Daughter. 


ifciiBwered.     "  We  shall  telegraph  to 
the  suburbs  Erst'' 

''Then  what  more  is  there  we  can 
do?"  asked  Percivale. 

•'Nothing,'*  said  the  inspector, 
^-  *•  except  you  find  out  whether  any 
of  the  neighbors  saw  her,  and  when 
and  where.  It  would  be  somethtng 
to  know  in  what  direction  she  was 
going.  Hav^e  you  any  ground  for 
suspicion  ?  Have  you  ever  discharged 
a  servant  ?  Were  any  tramps  seen 
about  the  place  ?  " 

"  I  know  who  it  is  I "  I  cried.  "  If  s 
the  woman  that  took  Theodora  I  It's 
Theodora's  mother  !    I  know  it  is !  " 

Percivale  explained  what  I  meant 

**  That's  what  people  get,  you  see, 
when  they  take  on  themselves  other 
people's  business^*'  returned  the  in- 
spector* '^ That  child  ought  to  have 
been  sent  to  the  workhouse." 

lie  laid  his  head  on  his  hand  for  a 
xnomeDt. 

"It  seems  likely  enough,"  he  add- 
ed. Tlien  after  another  pause —  **  I 
have  your  address.  The  child  shall 
be  brought  back  to  you  the  moment 
she^s  found.  We  can't  mistake  her 
after  your  description/' 

**  Where  are  you  going  now?"  I 
said  to  ray  husband,  as  we  left  the 
station  to  re-enter  the  cab. 

'*I  don't  know,"  he  answered^  "ex- 
cept we  go  home  and  que:ition  all  the 
shops  in  the  neighborhood." 

**  Let  us  go  to  Miss  Clare  firsl^"  I 
said. 

"  By  all  means,'^  he  answered. 
We  were  soon  at  the  entrance  of 
Lime  Court, 

When  we  turned  the  comer  in  the 
middle  of  it,  wo  heard  the  sound  of  a 
piano. 

*'  She's  at  home  I"  I  cried,  with  a 
feeble  throb  of  satisfaction.  The 
fear  that  she  might  be  out  had  for  the 
last  few  momenta  been  up^etmo%X, 


We  entered  the  bouse,  and( 
the  stairs  in  haste,  Kot  ai 
did  we  meet,  except  a  wick« 
cat  The  top  of  her  head  m 
her  ^rehead  and  face  whiter 
black  and  white  were  8ha[H^di 
look  like  hair  parted  over  ; 
forehead,  which  gave  her  gre^ 
frightfully  human  look  assh«l 
in  the  corner  of  a  window*si] 
light  of  a  gas-lamp  outsiile.  ( 
fore  we  reached  the  top  of  1 
stair  we  heard  the  sounds  of  i 
as  well  as  of  music*  In  a  < 
after,  with  our  load  of  gna« 
and  helpless  eagerness,  we  sUn 
midst  of  a  merry  assembly 
women,  and  children,  who  dt 
Clare's  room  to  overflowing.  J 
Saturday  night,  and  they  wm 
ered  according  to  custom  4 
weekly  music. 

They  made  a  way  for  ui ; 
Clare  left  the  piano,  and  cam^ 
us  with  a  smile  on  her  beautl 
But,  when  she  saw  our  faces, 

**  What  i^  the  matter,  Mi| 
vale  ?  "  she  asked  in  alarm. 

I  sunk  on  the  chair  from 
ha<l  risen. 

**  We've  lost  Ethel/' said  i 
band  quietly. 

"  What  do  you  mean  f    Y^ 

n 

*^  K0|  no :  she's  gone  ;  ^e^ 
We  don*t  know  where  she  is^ 
swered  with  faltering  voice, 
just  been  to  the  police." 

Miss  Clara  turned  white  t 
stead  of   making    any    re  mi 
called  out  to   some  of    her 
whose    good  mauners   wero 
them  leave  the  room, — 

^^  Don't  go,  please ;  we  wai 
Then  turning  to  me,  she  aske< 
I  do  as  I  think  best?" 

**  Yes,  certainly/ '  aaswerecl 


Tki  Faeor'j 


539 


tfakt 


emik  we  do  lo  fini  lorT* 

fen  to  ulktaf  iMwy  rfcw 

Tlw  tftest  ittitaiit,  two  see 

I  «P  III  Uy  iTwHay  tfcctr  w«^ 

ad^borbooi  of  tW  dooc 

WW  ft  kMO-fteod,  oUcily 

rit]i   iroor-grmjr  wbiiken    sad 

iirrd  cbin  ;  the  odier  wie  mj 

Btmaoe  in  tiie  neigkber- 

y<mmg  1niekl&j«zL      The 

withottt  ^eakiiig: 

wk&t  aiM»'#  like,  eti^  me^ 

wao  dc««i«fl — ^ibongli  ttel 

■eb  iM.     Shell  be  mU  ^Sa- 

timet.'* 

icde  fhoi  o  keener  pong  to 

ihno  it  had  jet  felt.     Mj 

stripped  of  her  nice  dothei^ 

widi  diitj,  peiho^  m^ 

Bat  it  woe  BO  tne 

■JT  to  feeltog. 

bosbood  repeated  to  the  men 

IMMI  lie  hod  gifea  the  po- 

.  oooogfa  fer  the  whole  toooi 

sod  the  wooien  in  poitseobr, 

i  told  ne  oftoiwoidg,  eooght 

itFinotUhle  ooetiracj.  Thej 

i  not  hare  done  eo^  ^be  SAtd,  hut 

*  fediogs  weio  tooched. 

hmm  obov  p^«tM,  Mr.  Peret- 

It  thd  ebild  Ut%  PercdYole^f 

mother  fotuid  end  hroi^ht 

bftt  11107  hoTO  aooaelhiiig  to  do 

ift-** 

rhnobond  told  th4*m  «U  the  ttotx; 
;  that  the  mother  of  the  child 
hmf^  found  oot  who  we  were, 
I  oa»  o»  o  pledge  for  the  »- 
her  own. 
t  one  of  the  women  spoke. 
;  imA  woAOO  you  took  in  one 


ritvieodoid, 
r  whnt,  I  could- 
r  I  heliere,  she 


<*rm  *Mit  MB»  I  SOW  her— the 
eoBO  woHOB — two  dajFO  090^  ond  no 
fagpgeff  ^oo  Oowei  Stoeet^**  the  said 
"^Tono  teo  goedhjhal^  mies,"  she 
wenton^'^iotheiifenof  eich.  They 
ma^t  MM  of  tfene  wptujlelle," 

^n^flfo  jmi^k  warn  ■otue  good 
OMfto  owt  of  it  hcfeio  btig^*'  Boid  Miss 
Cloio  in  t^j. 

like  n  rebuke, 
I  had  hardly  sent  a 
far  help.  The  image 
cf  my  ebild  hod  00  filed  my  heart,  that 
there  woo  aofooB  kft  for  the  thought 
of  dntr.oreraiofOod. 

ICm  Clare  west  eotetill  addressing 
the  oBspony,  aod  her  worda  bad  a 
tone  of  onthonty* 

^  I  wiQ  tell  yon  what  you  must  do," 
ebe  Olid.  **  Yon  must,  every  one  of 
jNMy  ran  and  tell  ererybody  you  koow, 
and  Ml  oresy  ^oa  to  tell  everybody 
eiee.  Too  vnutef^  stop  to  talk  it  over 
with  each  other,  or  let  those  you  tell 
it  to  stop  to  talk  to  you  about  it  \  for  it 
U  of  the  greateat  oonaequeoce  no  time 
ahottldbe  lost  in  making  it  as  quickly 
and  aa  widely  known  as  poisaiUo. 
Go,  pleaae/' 

In  a  few  momenta  the  room  wne 
empty  of  all  bat  oarselvcs.  Th<^  rush 
on  the  stairs  was  tremendous  fvtr  a 
single  minute,  and  then  alt  was  atitk 
Even  the  childrc^n  bad  ru»hed  out 
tell  wbat  other ohiM I        "        ouUl 

*^  What  mui»t  we  u 
husband. 


540 


The  Vicar's  Daughter. 


* 


Mise  Clare  tb ought  for  a  momeat* 

"  I  would  go  and  tell  Mr.  Black- 
Btone,'^  she  said.  **  It  is  a  long  way 
from  here,  but  whoever  baa  takea  the 
child  would  not  be  likely  to  linger  in 
the  neighborhood.  It  i^  best  to  try 
every  thing," 

**  Eighty"  said  my  husband.  "Come, 
Wynnie," 

'<  Wouldn't  it  be  bettor  to  leave 
Mrs.  Percivale  with  me  ?  "  «aid  Miss 
Clare.  **  It  is  dreadfully  fatiguing  to 
go  driving  over  the  stones." 

It  was  very  kind  of  ber;  but  if  she 
had  been  a  mother  she  would  not 
have  thought  of  parting  me  from  ray 
huBband ;  neither  would  she  have 
fancied  that  I  could  remain  inactive 
60  long  as  it  was  possible  even  to  ima- 
gine I  was  doing  something;  but 
when  I  told  her  how  I  felt^  she  saw  at 
once  that  it  would  be  better  for  me  to 

go- 

We  set  off  instantly^  and  drove  to 

Mr,  Blackstone*s.  What  a  long  way 
it  was  I  Down  Oxford  Street  and 
Holborn  we  rattled  aiid  jolted,  and 
then  through  many  narrow  ways  in 
which  I  had  n«ver  been,  emerging  at 
length  in  a  broad  road,  with  many 
poor  and  a  few  fine  old  houses  in  it; 
then  again  plunging  into  still  more 
shabby  regions  of  small  houses,  which, 
alas  I  w^ere  new,  and  yet  wretched  I 
At  length,  near  an  open  space,  where 
yet  not  a  blade  of  grass  could  grow 
for  the  trampling  of  many  feet,  and 
for  the  smoke  from  tall  chimneys, 
close  by  a  gasometer  of  awful  size,  we 
found  the  piirsoimge,  and  Mr.  Black- 
atone  in  his  study.  The  moment  he 
heard  our  story  he  went  to  the  door 
and  called  his  servant  **Ilun,  Ja- 
bez,'-  he  said,  "and  tell  the  sexton  to 
ring  the  church-bell,  I  will  come  to 
him  directly  I  hear  it." 

I  may  just  mention  that  Jabez  and 
Im  wife,  who  formBd  tW  vi\ko\^  ol"^!. 


Blackstone^s  household,  did 
to  his  congregation,  but  wuro 
bers  of  a  smdl   coin  a 

neighborhood,  caliing 
culiar  Baptists. 

About  ten  m^inutes  pasted^ 
which  little  was  said :  Mr.  Bli 
never  seemed  to  have 
expressing  his  feelings 
and  where  that  was  imposiiU 
took  hardly  any  recognizable 
When  the  first  boam  of  th«  \ 
^lled  the  little  study  in  which 
I  gave  a  cry,  and  jumped  up  fip 
chair:  it  sounded  in  ray  ears  \ 
knell  of  my  lost  baby,  for  at  t 
ment  I  was  thinking  of  her  I 
when  a  baby  she  lay  for  dead 
arms,  Mr.  Blackstone  got  ! 
left  the  room,  and  my  husbn 
and  would  have  followed  hi] 
saying  he  would  be  back  ia 
minutes,  he  shut  the  door  an4 
It  was  half  an  hour,  a  dread 
hour  before  he  return ed,  fat 
doing  nothing,  not  even  beiti^ 
somewhere  to  do  somethi] 
frightful. 

*^  IVe  told  them  all  aboat< 
said.  '^  I  couldn't  do  better  t 
low  Miss  Glare*s  example^ 
impression  is,  that,  if  the  woi 
suspect  be  the  culprit,  sh^ 
make  her  way  out  to  the  i 
quickly  as  possible.  Such  pe< 
most  at  home  on  the  col 
they  are  of  a  less  gregarioua 
than  the  wild  animals  of  tlu 
What  shall  you  do  next  ?  " 

'*That  is 'just   what    I  i 
know/'  answered  my  htisbanc 

He  never  asked  advice 
ho   did   not  know  what 
never  except  from  one 
he  meant  to  follow. 

"Well,"  returned  Mr. 
^'  I  should  put  an  adveri 
^\«^t^  ^VA  of  the  mornin 


Bli 


The  Vlcar'B  IkmgUer. 


541 


t  wm  ftU  be  doted"   Tbeiittiii 


abocit  liere  won't  be 


9^  pvUiablngr  but  iMi  tbe 


■m  I  to    ftjsd  i>ot  wbefe 

r  one  or  tw(»  of  tb«m,  and 
tbere  will  UtVL  us  tb«  rest.'' 
^oa  mean  to  go  witb  as  ?  '^ 
Vise  I  do,  —  that  is,  if  jnou 
me.  Yoa  doo't  think  I 
»e  joti  to  go  alone?  HaTe 
ly  Mtpper  ?  " 

MToiild  joa  like  sonetbin^ 
"  eald  Fercivale  taming  to 

int  swallow  a  mouthfiil/' 

either/'  said  PereiFale- 
VH  Jiut  take  a  hancb  of 
I  OM^^  said  Mr.  Blaekstone, 
i  Imiigfy.    Fve  had  ooth- 
Kne  o^eloek" 

tktr  asked  him  not  to  go, 
I  lo  wait  till  he  had  had  his 
Mbee  we  reached  Printing- 
Iwre  be  had   eaten  half  a 

ENi  mre,**  said  my  husband, 
f  ataittngy  **  that  they  will 
iveitiflesient  at  the  printing- 

pk  tilej  will.  The  circum- 
li  pgfueing.  They  will  see 
Ipe  Ibooeat  ]>eople,  and  will 
nisb  to  help  US.  But  for 
Qow  it  may  be  quite  en 


sy,  though/'  said  Per- 
;  his  hand' in  his  pocket, 
-^t  his  pur^e,  "  There  ! 
feared  !  No  money  !  —  Two 
biUings  —  and  sixpence  I " 
^ckstooe  stopped  the  cab. 
lei  got  as  much,'^  he  said. 
of  no  eooeeqiience.   Ill  run 


able." 
«"  Then^  tfe  Blae  Peela." 
•^  Lei  me  lake  H^  tbea.    Ton  wont 
be  seen  going  into  a  poblie-bovse  ?  " 
said  PetriTala. 

"Poobl  poob!"  said  Mr.  BbM^- 
^  Db  yoQ  tbink  my  cbararter 
t't  Btsod  that  much?  Be6tidea» 
tbey  womldii't  change  it  for  you.  But 
when  I  tbink  of  it,  I  uaed  the  last 
cheek  in  my  book  in  tbe  beginning 
of  tbe  week.     Kerer  mind ;  they  will 


lesad  me  fire  poinid? 

We  droire  to  the  Blue  Poets.  He 
got  out,  and  ntnnied  in  one  minute 
with  DT<e  aoresfetgns. 

^  What  will  people  say  to  your 
borrowing  five  pounds  at  a  public- 
house  ?  "  said  Percivale. 

•*  If  they  say  what  is  right,  ii  won^t 
hurt  me.'* 

"  But  if  they  say  what  is  wrong?** 

^  That  they  can  do  any  time,  and 
that  won't  hurt  me  either/* 

''  But  what  will  the  landlord  liim- 
self  think?" 

**  I  hare  no  doubt  he  feels  grateful 
to  me  for  being  bo  friendly*  You 
can't  oblige  a  man  more  than  by  ask- 
ing a  light  favor  of  him/* 

*^  Bo  you  think  it  well  in  your  posi' 
tion  to  be  oblija^ed  to  a  man  in  his  ?  ^ 
aske^l  Percivale, 

'*  I  do.  I  am  glad  of  the  chance.  It 
will  bring  me  into  friendly  relations 
with  him/* 

**  Bo  you  wish  J  then,  to  be  in  friend- 
ly relations  with  him  ?  " 

"  Indubitably,  In  what  other  rela- 
tions do  you  suppose  a  clergyman 
ought  to  be  with  one  of  his  parish- 
ioners ?  *' 

*<  You  didn't  invite  kirn  into  your 
parish,  I  presume/' 

''No;  and  he  didn't  inTite  me.  The 
thing  was  settled  in  higher  quarters. 


ean  fom  chmnge  it  f   There  we  ate,  atiybow  \  ksA  \  Vvi^ 


542 


The  Vicar's  Dmighler, 


done  quite  a  stroke  of  busiuesd  m 
borrowing  that  money  of  him." 

Mr.  Blacks  tone  laugh  ed,  and  the 
laugh  sounded  frightfully  harsh  in 
my  ears, 

"  A  man  "  —  my  husband  went  on, 
who  was  surprised  that  a  clergjrman 
ehould  be  so  liberal  —  '^a  man  who 
sella  drink  I  —  in  whose  house  so 
many  of  your  parishioners  will  to- 
morrow night  get  too  drunk  to  bo  in 
church  the  next  morning  I  " 

"I  wish  having  been  drunk  were 
what  would  keep  them  from  being  in 
church.  Drunk  or  sober,  it  would  he 
all  the  same.  Few  of  them  care  to 
go.  They  are  turning  out  letter, 
however,  than  when  first  I  came.  As 
for  the  publican,  who  knows  what 
chance  of  doing  him  a  good  turn  it 
may  put  in  iny  way  ?  " 

**  You  don't  expect  to  persuade  him 
to  shut  up  shop?  " 

**  Ko  :  he  must  persuade  himself  to 
that" 

**  What  good,  then,  can  you  expect 
to  do  liim  ?  " 

"Who  knows?  I  say.  You  can't 
tell  wliat  good  may  or  may  not  come 
out  of  itj  any  more  than  you  can  tell 
which  of  your  efforts,  or  which  of 
your  hi*lper3,  may  this  night  be  the 
means  of  restoring  your  child.'' 

**  What  do  you  expect  the  man  to 
say  about  it  ?  ^' 

*'  I  shall  provide  him  with  some- 
thing to  say.  I  don't  want  him  to 
jittrihute  it  to  some  foolish  charity, 
lie  might  In  the  N"ew  Testament, 
publicans  are  acknowledged  to  have 
hearts.** 

*'Ye8;  but  the  word  has  a  very 
difl[*?rent  meaning  in  the  New  Testa- 
ment" 

'*  Tlie  feeling  religious  people  bear 
towards  them,  however,  comes  very 
near  to  that  with  which  society  re- 
garded the  publicans  of  old." 


"  They  are  fiir  more  huitft 
ciety  than  those  tax-gat  herei 

'*  They  m ay  be.   I  dar»  atj 
Perhaps  they  are  worse 
ners  with  w^hom  their  nai 
New  Testament  are 

I  will    not  follow  the  co»' 
further.     I  will  only  givi 
it     Percivale  told  me 
he  had  gone  on  talking  £n 
of  diverting  mj  thoughts  a  U 

'*  What,  then,  do  you  mcaa 
him  ?  ''  asked  Percivale, 

**  The  truth,  the  whole 
notliing  but  the  truth/' 
Blackstone.  '^  I  shall  go  in 
row  mornings  just  at  the  tii 
there  will  probably  be  far  td 
people  at  the  bar,  —  a  3it< 
noon.  I  shall  return  him 
sovereigns,  ask  for  a  glass  of 
tell  him  the  whole  story,—* 
friend,  the  celebrated  pain 
with  bis  wife,  —  and  the  i 
adding,  I  trust,  that  the  chi 
right,  and  at  the  moment 
going  out  for  a  walk  with  heff 
who  won^t  let  her  out  of  her 
a  moment." 

He   laughed    again,   and 
thought  him  heartlesa;  but 
stand  him  better  now.     I  % 
too,  that  Percivale  ctmld  g» 
ing,  and  yet  I  found  that  t 
did  make  the  time  go  a  Hlt]# 
At  length  we  reached   the 
office  of  "  The  Times, '  -^ 
friars*  Bridge,  I  think. 

After  s*^me  delay,  we  saw 
seer,  who,  curt  enough  at  fir»l 
friendly  wheji  he  heanl  ouf  ^ 
he  had  not  had  children  of 
we  might  perhaps  have  hoi 
He  took   down   the   descri; 
address,  and  promised  that  1 
tiscmcnt  should  appear  in  \ 
ing's  paper  in  the  best  pli 
now  find  for  it 


The  Vicar '»  Daughier. 


543 


wm  'lo  thii  whereabouts   of 

nearest  office.     We  epent 

pftit  of  the  night  in  driT- 

ne  printing-office  to  another. 

stone  declared  he  woald  not 

til  we  had  found  her. 

IbaTe  to  preach  twice  to-mor- 

id   Percivale :   it   wa8   then 

p>9eacb  all  the  better,^  he 

Tes:  I  feel  as  if  I  should 

one  good  sermon  to-moi^ 

[laa  t«I^9  as  if  the  child 
id  already  r'  I  thought,  with 
*^  It*ft  a  pity  he  haan^t  a 
liis    own  I    he    would     be 
ipaAhetic'^      At  the    same 
bail  been  honest,  I  should 
to  myself  that  his  con- 
hope  helped  to  keep  me 

liaTing  been  to  the  print- 
ererj  daily  paper  in  Lon- 
on  OUT  dreary  way  home. 
dre«ry  it  was  !  —  and  the 
that  the  oool,  sweet  light 
dawn  was  growing  in 
no  smoke  having  yet 
poor  firom  the  multitudinous 
to  sully  itd  purity  1  From 
want  of  sleep,  my  soul 
both  felt  like  a  gray  foggy 
rery  now  and  then  the 
my  child  came  with  a 
ig^^not  that  she  was  one 
nt  from  me,  but  that  a 
it  about  her  would  dart  a 
Into  the  ever-burning  throb 
If  you  had  asked  me 
thing  in  the  world,  I 
aaid  Ueep  —  with  my 
duldien  beside  me.  But 
■leep  now,  both  for  its  ris- 
§Q€  Ibo  frightful  waking. 
^ben  I  voold  start  Tiolendy, 
my  Ethel  ciy  \  but 


from  the  cab-window  no  child  was 
ever  to  be  seen,  down  all  the  lonely 
street.  Then  I  would  sink  into  a 
succession  of  efforts  to  picture  to  my- 
self her  little  face,  —  white  with  ter- 
ror and  misery,  and  smeared  with  the 
dirt  of  the  pitiful  hands  that  rubbed 
the  streaming  eyes.  They  might 
have  beaten  her  I  she  might  have 
cried  herself  to  sleep  in  some  wretched 
hovel  J  or,  worse,  in  some  fever- 
stricken  and  crowded  lodging-house, 
with  horrible  sights  about  her  and 
horrible  voices  in  her  ears !  Or  she 
might  at  that  moment  be  dragged 
wearily  along  a  country- road,  farther 
and  farther  from  her  mother!  I  could 
have  shrieked  and  torn  my  hair. 
What  if  I  should  never  see  her  again  ? 
She  might  be  murdered,  and  I  never 
know  it  1     0  my  darling !  my  darling ! 

At  the  thought  a  groan  escaped 
me.  A  hand  was  laid  on  my  arm. 
That  I  knew  was  my  husband's.  But 
a  voice  was  in  my  ear,  and  that  was 
Mr.  Blackstone's. 

**Do  yon  think  God  loves  the  child 
less  thaa  you  do?  Or  do  you  think 
he  is  less  able  to  take  care  of  her  than 
you  are  ?  When  the  disciples  thought 
themselves  sinking,  Jesus  rebuked 
them  for  being  afraid.  Be  etill,  aud 
you  will  see  the  hand  of  God  in  this. 
Good  you  cannot  foresee  will  come  out 
of  it.*' 

X  could  not  answer  him,  but  I  felt 
both  rebuked  and  grateful. 

Alt  at  once  I  thought  of  Boger. 
What  would  he  say  when  he  found 
that  his  pet  was  gone,  and  we  had 
never  told  him  ? 

**  Boger ! "  I  said  to  my  husband* 
**  WeVe  never  told  him  I " 

*^  Let  us  go  now,"  he  returned* 

We  were  at  the  moment  close  to 
North  Crescent. 

Ailer  a  few  thundering  raps  at  the 
door,  the  landlady  came  down.     Per- 


544 


The   Vicar* 8  Daughter. 


civale  nisBed  up,  and  in  a  few  miri' 
utea  returned  with  Roger*  They  got 
into  the  cab,  A  great  talk  followed  ; 
but  I  heard  hardly  any  thing,  or  rather 
I  heeded  nothing.  I  only  recollect 
that  Roger  was  very  indignant  with 
his  brother  for  having  been  out  all 
night  without  him  to  help. 

*'  I  never  thought  of  you,  Boger," 
said  Percivale. 

**  80  much  the  worse  ! "  said  Roger. 

"No,"  said  Mr.  Blackstone.  **A 
thousand  things  make  us  forget.  I 
dare  say  your  brother  all  hut  forgot 
God  in  th  e  first  misery  of  his  lo6«.  To 
have  thought  of  you,  and  not  to  have 
told  you,  woukl  have  been  another 
thing." 

A  few  minutes  ajfter,  we  stopped  at 
our  desolate  house,  and  the  cabman 
was  dismissed  with  one  of  the  sover^ 
eigna  from  the  Blue  Posts.  I  won- 
dered afterwards  what  manner  of  man 
or  woman  had  changed  it  there,  A 
dim  light  was  burning  in  the  drawing- 
room,  Percivale  took  hie  pass-key, 
and  opened  the  door.  I  hurried  in, 
and  went  straight  to  my  own  room ;  for 
1  longed  to  be  alone  that  I  might  weep 
^ —  nor  weep  only,  I  fell  on  my  knees 
by  the  bedside »  buried  my  face,  and 
sobbed,  and  tried  to  pray,  But  I 
could  not  collect  ray  thoughts ;  and, 
overwhehned  by  a  fresh  access  of  de- 
spair, I  started  again  to  my  feet. 

Could  I  believe  my  eyes?  "What 
was  that  in  the  bed  ?  Trembling  as 
with  an  ague,  —  in  terror  le^t  the  vis- 


ion should  by  Taniahini 
vision,  —  I  stooped  to 
heard  a  breathing !  It ' 
hair  and  the  rosy  face  of  iq( 
—  fast  asleep  —  without  oa« 
sufTering  on  her  angelio  hnri 
remember  no  more  for  a  whil 
teU  me  I  gave  a  great  ciy,  k 
the  floor.  When  I  cam«  to  \ 
was  lying  on  the  bed.  My 
was  bending  over  me^  an 
and  Mr.  Blackstone  were  hoi 
room.  I  could  not  8peak^< 
husband  understood  mj  ^ 
gaze. 

*^Ye8,    yes,     my    love," 
quietly;    **  she^s    aU  right --^ 
sound,  thank  God  I " 

And  I  did  thank  God. 

Mr.  Blackstone  came  to  thl 
with  a  look  and  a  amile  th^ 
to  my  conscience  to  say^  **  I 
so."  I  held  out  my  hand  to 
could  only  weep.  Then  I  rcB 
how  we  had  vexed  Bogeri 
him. 

*'  Dear  Roger,"  I  said^  <*  ill 
and  go  and  tell  Misa  Clare.  ^* 

I  had  some  reason  to  thin 
best  amends  I  could  make  h 

^^  I  will  go  at  oneei"  he  m 
will  be  anxious/' 

''And  I  will  go  to  mjf 
said  Mr.  Blackstone^  with 
quiet  smile^ 

They  shook  hands  with 
went  away.     And  my  hushf 
rejoiced  over  our  fiist-bom. 


Tk€  Flam  1/  IRmd  m  JTatur^. 


546 


I  ^I-JLCB  OF  MDiD  IX  KATURi;  AXB  DTnjITIOX  IS  MAX. 


BT  B2T.    JAXES    KABTTXILAU* 


tel^  » 


tcoficr  ID  evm.    Hie  p^er  iiMl(  vitL  Dr.  D^v«^^  «b  ScHIkwiI  kmI 
Dr.  Bdlow^s  OB  tJbe  Bi«ik  bftvvn  F«ih  ud  8cmm«»  aftd  M^wrvl  olW 
mlji«ct«  of  viial  uaparUtteev  «ifl  1»  p«UiikBd  ni  <m  w^kmmhf  tbt  Aacrt* 
Aaociadaa,  at  vfaoie  roqoeiC  tkej  were  writtmi.} 

_   vtlap^  IIm  tbwrr  which  w«  isMid  to 
tr.t.  ^camgtrmet :  "  we  tf««t  the  «yst9<i  o( 

the  ontf^ene  ve  see  mronnd    the  world  hs  lui  **  ^rfmmUm "  rmihtr 
not  alwajs  ibert,  is  ea  little    than  a  ^'  iii^A4tat»iii  ;  **  we  semtt^b  eaeh 
that  ereiy  philoaopbj  and    of  iU  m embers  to  aee,  not  what  it  is 
undertakes  to  tel]  bow  it  /<>r,  but  what  it  is  fiwm  ;  aad   tba 

be*     Tb€7  all  assume,  as  the    doctrine  of  0eohtiion  onlj  a|^t#s  tba 
of  tbeir  problem,  the  5eld  of    image  of  indeduite   growth    of    the 

greater  out  of  the  lesS|  till  from  som« 
datum  invisible  to  the  microsoopt 
arises  a  teeming  imiTSiM» 

In  dealing  with  thass  t}li«a  coo* 
ceptions,  —  of  ermiiom^  wtn^rmetMm, 
emlution^  —  thers  is  one  thing  on 
which  religion  tDststs,  ▼is,,  that 
mind  is  Jlrst^  and  mlsi  f»r99€t ; 
and,  whatever  the  piocfss  b«,  is  »fs 
process,  moving  towards  coDgenisl 
ends,.  Let  this  be  granted^  and  it 
matters  not  by  what  path  of  mothoil' 
the  Divine  Thought  atlvanron,  or  how 
long  it  is  upon  the  roati.  \Vht^rher  it 
dashes  into  realixation^  like  lightning 
out  of  night;  or  fahricalrn,  tike  a 
Demiurge,  thro«j^h  a  ph>lucing  sea- 
son, and  then  b«?hoM«i  the  perft»ct 
work  ;  or  is  f«irfver  thinking  into 
life  the  thoughts  of  bimnty  and  tha 
love  of  good ;    whether   it  calls   ltd 

iiaelf  the  least  of  thin gSy  jet    materials    out  of   nothing,  or   llnilii 

ict  that,   with    history  long    them   ready,   and   di««pfMM»«   of    tlmm 

from  without;  or  throwi  them  around 
as  its  own  man i fetation,  and  fmiii 
within  shapes  its  own  porposs  into 
blossom^  —  makes  no  diflWrtnc*  tliat 
can  be  fatal  to  hitman  pfvt/.     TioM 


^liere  all  objects  lie^  and   the 

time   where    events    have 

tbe    DOW.      Eat    into   these 

IT,  to  aid  them  in  represent^ 

cm  gin  of  tbings,  such  inter- 

coneeptioos  as  may  be  most 

to  the  knowledge  or  fancy  of 

\  z  fi»t,  the  fat  of  Almifjhtij 

ilcb   bade  the  void  be  filled, 

the    light  kindled,  and   the 

syed,  and  the  earth  stood 

fttb  the  vault  of  sky ;  next, 

sway  of  i>oetry  and  force 

^ided  to  the  inventive  arts,  the 

Ik  ^tmirivin^   and   adaptinff 

[fettildiag  and   balancing   the 

gi>  smoolhly  and  keep  time 

and    stocking    them   with 

ag  and  sensitive  machiDes  ; 

r,  aince  physiology  has  got  to 

it*  tlie  analogy  of  the  seed  or 


ft  will  be  as  spawn  opon  the 
[and  ^11  every  waste  with  the 

■e  tbey  are.  The  preva- 
ftUe  newest  metaphor  betrays 

the    current   language  of 


we  now  '*  unfold  ^  what  we    counts  for  nothing  with  the  Eternal  ( 
^iake  to  piee^^'^  wt  ^de-   and  though  it  sbeiild  i^pf^t  \ViaX  ^ 


546 


The  Place  of  Mind  in  Naturt, 


ejstem  of  tlie  world  and  the  raaka  of 
being  aroee,  not  by  a  start  of  crystal- 
lization, but;  like  the  grass  or  the 
forest  J  by  silent  and  seasonal  grada- 
tions, as  true  a  worship  may  be  paid 
to  the  indwelling  God  who  makes 
matter  itself  transparent  with  spir- 
itual meanings^  and  breathes  before 
us  in  the  pulses  of  nature,  and  appeals 
to  us  in  the  sorrows  of  men,  as  to  the 
pre-existing  Deity  who,  from  an  in- 
Enite  loneliness,  suddenly  became  the 
Maker  of  all,  Kay,  if  the  poet  always 
looka  upon  the  world  through  a  sup- 
pliant eye,  craving  to  meet  his  own 
ideal  and  commune  with  it  alive  j  if 
prayer  is  ever  a  "  feeling  after  Him 
to  find  him,"  the  fervor  and  the  joy 
of  both  must  be  best  sustained,  if 
they  are  conscious  not  only  of  the 
stillness  of  his  presence,  but  of  the 
movement  of  his  thought,  and  never 
quit  the  date  of  his  creative  momenta. 
In  the  idea,  therefore,  of  a  gradual 
unfolding  of  the  creative  plan,  and 
the  maturing  of  it  by  rules  of  growth, 
there  is  nothing  necessarily  prejudi- 
cial to  piety;  aud  so  long  as  the 
Divine  Mind  is  left  in  undisturbed 
supremacy,  as  the  living  All  in  all, 
the  belief  may  even  foster  a  larger, 
calmer,  tenderer  devotion,  than  the 
conceptions  which  it  supersedes.  .But 
it  is  liable  to  a  special  illusion,  which 
the  others  by  their  coarsely  separat- 
ing lines  manage  to  escape.  Taking 
all  the  causation  of  the  world  into 
the  interior,  instead  of  setting  it  to 
operate  from  without,  it  seems  to  dis- 
pense with  God,  and  to  lodge  the 
power  of  indefinite  development  in 
the  first  seeds  of  things;  and  the 
apprehension  seises  as,  that  as  the 
oak  will  raise  itself  when  the  acorn 
and  the  elements  are  given,  so  from 
its  germs  might  the  universe  emerge, 
though  nothing  divine  were  there. 
The  seed!',  no  doubt,  wet^  on  the  4<?ld^ 


but  who   can    say  wbeA«r 
Bower  went  forth  to  sow  "  t 
as  you  plant  the  Supreme  < 
distance   &om    his   own  eQ 
assign   to   hitn   a   apace   or 
where  nothing  elso  can  h^  i 
ception  of  that  separate  and  i 
existence,  however  barren^  ii  i 
But  in  proportion  as   you 
him  as  never  in  an  empty  1 
ing  for  a  future  beginning  of  i 
as  yon  let  him  mingle  with  tlitj 
ments  and  blend  with  the  da 
of  .things,  there  is  a  seemiiig 
lest    his   light  should 
hind  the  opaque   material 
his  Spirit  be  quenched  amid  thai 
ows  of  inexorable  law.     This 
haunts   our  time.     The 
evolution,  setting  itself  to 
the  greatest  things  may  be 
out  of  the  least,  fills  as 
whether  perhaps  mind  may 
last  instead  of  first,  the  batcht 
full-fiedged  form  of  the  protop 
egg ;  whether  at  the  outset  aayj 
was  there  but  the  raw  radio 
matter  aud  force ;  whether  lbs  ] 
chy  of  organized  beings  is  not  i 
progressive  differentiation  of  8 
and  resolvable  into  splitting 
glutination  of  celb  i  whether  I 
tellect  of  man   is    more  than] 
instinct    grown    self-oonscio 
shaping  its  belief  by  defining  il 
shadows  ;  whether  the  moral  i 
not  simply  a   trained 
rules  worked  out  by  human  io 
an  inherited  record  of  the  uti 
so  that  design  in  nature,  i 
the  intuitions  of  reason,  divine  4 
tion  in  the  law  of  conscieooef  i 
be  an  illusory  semblance,  a  glo 
the  later  and  ideal  days  thrnvn  I 
upon  the  beginning,  aa  a  golJea  ( 
set  fiings  its  light  across  thd  skf|i 
as  it  sinks,  dresses  up  the 
with  borrowed  splendor. 


547 


iat<«ft  UMi  Ipra-  thu  tlM 

MM.  obs  ni|g|M5f  enobviiKiiti), 

<K  tmtOy  our  con- 


i]B»tlf«  <ir  to  t&e 

Bst  into  our 

Bar  tobjecttre 

111   m    the    ttfiiiliflMj    «f 


of  ^atf p  €i«r  seif«aczifitf mf 

r"  rff  ^"™"    ■  II       ^1  H   ■  III    a V »"»w-r -in_-c-i.  iw»^  »«• 


tbst  the  ki|^  tlMf 
rtber  an  tb«j  horn  mnj  a»- 
ity  of  bMCL     Li  tbo  l^lier 


there  is  no 
tluit  tiie  dhiiie  look  oCOm 
It  liM  latoil  pbMo  of  its 

f  iti  iamoit  b€«rt.  Lot  v 
^  at  liio  theorj  of  Awmm 
Clio  monl  iHiisioQi  tiii 


the  uiBO  oT  tlio  ''Ex- 
IBooophy,^  tliis  dMOly  Yarn 

%  waA  baa  pgoJiitjoJ  boI  a 
■Iklo  afialr9e9  of  tlie  forma- 

tiio 
Hiisa  iOf 
to  h,  except  bo  &r  ao  Ito 
are  orentnuied  and 
good.  Il  iiadeftake% 
of  imtial  capadty^ 
lor  tlio  Biaiiioiim  ol  fan- 
giTo  it 
and  paiufy 
mnicalar  actiTity, 
hf  wluelt  anodated 
leoomeaa  ^Sn%  togedier; 
if  tlien  efomeotB  it  will 
bra  T^mr  ejea  the  wbole 
dia  ptrfeet  inner  life,  be  k 


\  of    tbe  CMTM 

of  aemm;  the  aabcI«ot  mtel- 
iena  aea  baft:  eiabotated  pei^ 
of  ligW  m  tai^;  and  tbe 
of  n^^  onlf  inteiasi  or  fear 
adufaiae.  If  tlda  be  so»  boir 
WW  taa  duco^efj"  ascot  oar  natural 
i  dbo  ntiaia^oi»  of  oar  ea* 
iMwitiia?  Doeo  it  not  ^i- 
m  dse«»  tbeir  most  Msared 
T  dy  lataitifOn  of  leaaoQ 
we  beHete  in  tbe  law  of  caosalitj,  in 
tbe  miaitade  of  fpaee^  in  tbe  le^ 
of  anmbeiv  ^  *^  lealitj  of 
in  all  the  fboda* 
of  actence  \  bat 
here  are  tbej,  one  aod  all,  recalled  to 
the  itaadatd  of  weum^  which  tbej 
w&Bm  ta  Umgmcem^  aad  aai|>itied  of 
wBSf  aieaning  bejond.  Bj  raion  of 
iiaagiaatioQ  we  eee  an  ideal  beaot^ 
eaMding  many  a  person  and  manj  a 
aeene^  sad  appeaKng  to  as  ae  a  patbet* 
io  l^t  gJeaiBing  from  within;  bat 
here  we  tod  it  aQ  reeolTed  into  cnr- 
Tatnre  of  Itnee  and  adjaetaients  of 
eolof:  B7  inffpiration  of  conscience 
we  learn  thai  oar  Bin  is  tbe  defiance 
of  a  dirine  aathoritj,  and,  tboagb  hid 
from  eraij  banaa  mf%  driTeo  as  into 
a  wOdemeao  of  exile,  —  for  *^  tbe 
wicked  fleeth,  though  no  man  parsti- 
eth ; "  but  here  we  are  told  that  tbe 
tiltimate  elements  of  good  and  eYit 
are  oor  own  ple&stiree  and  pains,  from 
which  the  moral  sanction  selects  as 
hw  spe^'ialty  the  appif>\>at\*^iL  an^  i\^ 


is  laid  opeD  to  cotii 
By  this  immense  ga{ 
supposed,    all    the 
separate  man  from  oi 
be  accounted  for 
menta  ;  and  many  « 
mind,  too  immediate 
to  be  a  product  of  pel 
may  yield  to  analyi 
tracted  growth,  and 
pend  of  ages  of  gatl| 
condensing  thought, 
that  herd  together  fb 
each  one  learns  to  rei 
ger  or  of  good- will  in 
discovers  what  it  is 
him  the  one  or  other  j 
forms  to  himself  a  ml 
displeasure  and  cone 
in  which  he  has  so 
This  rudimentary  e: 
and    records   itself 
organization,  and  del 
generations   as   an 
stinctive  recoil  from 
impulse   towards  wl; 
feeling  of  the  tribo 
needs  not  be  gone 
the  offspring,  taking 

whflm  tfafi  BMMHil 


ances  representatiye  of  the  ultimate 
gold  of  pleasure,  but,  where  not  in- 
terchangeable with  this,  intrinsically 
worthless.  And  so  the  feeling  almost 
inevitably  spreads^  that  we  are  dupes 
of  our  own  characteristic  capacities; 
that  the  loftier  air  into  which  they  lift 
us  is  a  tinted  and  distorting  medium^ 
and  bIiows  us  glories  that  are  not 
there;  that  the  idea  of  an  eternal 
Fount  of  beauty,  truth,  and  goodness, 
behind  the  pleasingness  and  concin- 
Dity  of  phenomena,  is  an  illusion ; 
and  that  the  tendency,  irresistible  as 
it  is,  to  cling  to  this  idea  as  something 
higher  than  its  denial,  is  but  a  part 
of  the  romance.  Is  this  scepticism 
imaginary  ?  Let  any  one,  in  study- 
ing the  modern  writers  of  this  school, 
compare  the  solid,  manly,  sensible  way 
in  which  they  deal  with  every  tiling 
on  the  physiological  and  sensational 
level,  with  their  manner  towards  all 
the  convictions  and  sentiments  usual- 
ly recognized  as  the  supreme  lights 
of  our  nature ;  the  tone  now  of  for- 
bearing  indulgence,  now  of  sickly 
appreciation,  often  of  hardly  con- 
cealed  contempt,    that   is    heard  be- 

iiffiititi  tik  iiiterminftWft  fiffninfrlHrftl 


tmd 


549 


rwtB  tlio  •ool  in  ite 

inrisslile  vttaoai  mad 

ecRidemDS  tbe  rau-comies, 

£roai  the  dfjictkitt  of 

of  hUciaa. 

efiliU]|«]neiit  of  tlie  doe- 
trolutiocty  while  mcmnsg 
^  and  lenufriiig  it  fron  tfe 
aecaiste  testa,  altecB : 
pte  nor  its  praelieil 
akes  to  exhibit  the  hi^est 
ia  OQ] 


of  thelowesmd 
And  il  osiisl]/  ImlB  as  m 
I  our  natazal  rrrotenoe  ftr 
aaly  iBOinily  and  Ttelipoos  m- 
soutcee  of 
QltUDile  malhofilyi 


dioct-haiid  expteannu 
expenence  and  social 
ICar  caa  we  wooder  at  this 
i>  If  the  oolf  re&litj  at 
the  sense  of  doty  is  Hear 
BBOQ  to  opmkm,  whatefer 
ia  it  that  traasoeods  this 
fad  penoades  as  of  aa  ohli- 
which  fear  and  opiaiofli  haf« 
is  aa  ideal  additioa  got  up 
hf  causes  vhieh  ptodaoe  ia 
I  of  |»jchoik»g)cal  figmeats. 
Nil  J  fads  that  lie  ta  oar 
are  a  set  of  feeliags  ia 
as  aad  the  skin  kdA  theeje^ 
belieis  it  inTolTes 
cannot  reeify  are  nata* 
ladit^  aad  treated  as  caii- 
aitificad  maairiactarew  If 
rtanctenstios  aietlirongh> 
lastiacts  of  the 
ooly  in  degzee,  then 
ler  present  as  with  in- 
are  distinct  ta  kimd, 
f  as  Use ;  aad  those 
lite  cheat  aatarally 
against    thenL      And    90 


ItJ 


toldtlHitaarhigb- 
aiaoolj  tlie  lover  that 
loat  their  laeiautjfy  aad  mistake 


to  can 


of  eiidiitiun,  laadsqaate  as  the  eiv 
deaee  of  tham  hoth  appears  to  be^  I 
win  sappesn  their  case  to  be  made 
eat;  aadl  stU,  I  aahaiit,  it  does  aos 
jaslify  tiie  sceptical  astiania  which  it 
hahitasllv  Ibeteia  af  the  intdlectaslt 
and  religions  iataitioas  of  the 
F«i  — 

(!•)  Xboaga  anlwisl  seasatMHii  with 
its  eoaaeoted  iastiiietj  slioald  be  the 
imw  ssaterial  of  oar  whole  aiental  his- 
tory, it  is  notion  that  aoooant,  entitled 
is  masgaw  mU  thai  ossies  afier  k, 
aad  slaad  aa  the  boandafy-liae  be- 
tween fiict  and  dream,  between  terra 
finaa  aad  ^airy  nothing."  That 
which  b  first  in  time  has  no  neoesssiy 
priority  of  rank  in  the  scale  of  truth 
and  leality ;  and  the  later-iband  may 
well  ha  the  greater  ^stence  and  the 
moia  aasmad.  If  it  is  a  developaieat 
of  fiscally  and  not  of  incapacity, 
which  the  tifteotypcorides^  the  process 
asasl  advaaee  as  Into  new  light,  and 
not  withdraw  as  horn  clearer  light 
bdiiad :  aad  we  hare  reason  to  ooo^ 
fide  in  the  freshest  gleams  and  Inmost 
of  to^y,  and  to  discard  what- 
and  confuses  them  in 
the  ▼agaeand  tarbid  beginnings  of  the 
past  Wttfa  what  plea  will  you  ex- 
hort one^  ^  If  yon  would  rid  yourself 
of  intaUectaal  mysteiiesy  come  with 
as,  aad  ass  &e  staff  yonr  thought  is 
made  of:  if  yoa  would  stand  £ree  of 
id«al  illusions,  count  with  us  the 
medullary  waves  that  have  run  to- 
gether into  the  flood*ttde  of  what  yon 
call  yaar  eoaacienee:  if  you  woald 
sludte  off  snperatition,  look  at  the 
way  in  which  the  image  of  dead  naa 
will  hang  about  the  latkc;  ol  %  «k«- 


650 


The  Place  of  Mmd  in  Nature, 


I 


ag8)  or  the  personMoation  of  an 
abstract  quality  imposes  on  the  igno- 
rance of  Bimplo  times  "  ?  Is  our  wis- 
dom to  be  gathered  by  going  back  to 
the  age  before  our  errors  ?  And  in- 
stead of  consulting  the  maturity  of 
thought,  are  we  to  peer  into  its  cradle, 
and  seek  oracles  in  its  infant  cries  ? 
If  the  last  appeal  be  to  the  animal 
elements  of  experience,  we  can  learn 
only  by  unlearning;  and  by  shutting 
one  after  another  of  the  hundred 
ideal  eyes  of  the  finished  intelleiit,  we 
shall  have  a  chance  of  seeing  and 
feeling  things  as  they  are.  If  noth- 
ing is  to  be  deemed  true  but  what 
the  pre-human  apes  saw,  then  all  the 
sciences  must  be  illusory ;  with  the 
suicidal  result  that,  with  them,  this 
doctrine  of  evolution  must  vanish  too* 
Or  if,  stopping  short  of  this  extreme 
distrust  of  the  acquired  intuitions, 
you  make  a  reservation  in  favor  of 
the  new  visions  of  the  intellect,  what 
right  can  you  show  for  discharging 
those  of  the  conscience?  The  tacit 
assumptiouj  therefore,  that  you  upset 
a  super-sensual  belief  by  tracing  the 
history  of  its  emergence  among  sen- 
sible conditions,  is  a  groundless  preju- 
dice. 

(2,)  Further,  the  question  to  be 
determined  may  be  presented  as  a 
problem  in  physiology,  to  be  resolved 
by  corresponding  rules :  What  is  the 
fit  net  ion  of  certain  parts  of  our  hu- 
man constitution,  viz.,  the  reason  and 
the  moral  faculty?  Now,  it  is  a 
recognized  principle,  that,  in  estimat- 
ing function,  you  must  study  the 
organ,  not  in  its  rudimentary  condi- 
tion, before  it  has  disengaged  itself 
from  adjacent  admixtures  and  flung 
otf  the  foreign  elements,  but  in  its 
perfect  or  differentiated  state,  so  as  to 
do  its  own  work  and  nothing  else. 
In  order  to  give  the  idea  of  a  time- 
pieco   to  one  who  had   it   not,   you 


would  not  send  him  U>  one  of 
rious  medieval  clocka  whii! 
play  a  tune,  and  fire  a  guo« 
noiince  the  sunrise,  and  & 
tides,  and  report  twenty  mlici 
things  besides ;  hat  to  the 
chronometer,  simple  and  < 
that,  telling  only  the  momenj 
perfectly.  And  in  natural  c 
tions,  to  learn  tho  capabiU 
project  of  any  stmcture,  y 
not  resort  to  the  embryo  wh 
forming  but  not  working ;  y« 
wait  till  it  was  bom  into  the 
ence  of  the  elementa  with 
had  to  deal :  not  till  tlien  o 
see  how  they  played  upon 
what  was  its  response  to  tl 
conformity  with  this  rule, 
would  yon  betake  youraeU 
want  to  measure  the  intrtf 
petency  of  our  intellectual 
and  determine  what  its  rei 
gives  it  to  know  ?  Would  | 
counsel  of  the  nurse  who 
'*  when  you  first  opened  yoi 
the  light,*'  *  or  otherwise  bI 
first  consciousness  in  any 
"  before  the  time  when  me 
mences,"  *  and  disregard  evi 
"subsequent  to  the  first  U 
of  intellectual  life*'?*  On 
trary,  you  would  avoid  that 
choate  promise  of  nature,  ofl 
nally  born,  where  the  very  &ti 
its  fiiier  work  have  not  yet 
their  distinctive  consistency 
and  ^vill  hold  your  peace  till  ti 
is  awake  and  on  its  feet,  and 
Ty  tell  you  what  it  sees  for 
what  it  makea  out  at  sec^ 
just  as,  to  gauge  the  luoar 
must  have  patience 
crescent  grows,  and  w 
orb  is  there*    8U11 1 

p.  172. 

>  Ibid<       •  lUtd.  p.  140. 


and  IttttdtUm  w  Man. 


G51 


of  the  isofal  ftcohj  feom 
Oonfeaaio&a  of  tbe  cndfe,  tar  fsom 
litArrela  nitd aflectiosksaf  tile  ip»; 
^ditioQA  beiDg  not  jet  pteaeot 
iN^re  eoaeeptKm  of  a  monl 
Tlie  most  th«t  €U  be  Mic«d 
itaitioa  M^  tkai  h  ikmH  ke^ 
the  eaaee  ai  Ikej 
k  spot  vbea  it  k  wiatied;  aad 
roald  know  vhat  pnmfXMi  tmj 
I  lM»kb  lor  deilijig  witk  ite  dotf 
^terpietieg  its  gailv  jran  ttoet 
tkkk  of  its  iBOKiil  EISb^  i«i 
what  it  eeei  fom  tlie 
1 0(f  teomtaiaoft  aad  al  lic^ 


KiimL  Tlkeee  ugwl  i^yprebenmoiift 
we  mie  entided  to  dedmn  m  not  the 
iil«AM%  hot  Ike  4iecoferle%  of  nteii  j 
wke^  hj  finiig  into  Ibefii,  te  born  into 
note  of  the  uuTeffBe  of  thiogi  then 
usf  other  beoig  opoa  earth,  sod  it 

of  m 

u 

«i«  indoed  tbe  gvowth  of  sftip 

&9fti  ieecii  ijirisibIjdfO|i(ed  Qpoo  the 

of  ttn^  be  tl  oo;  it  was  oo^ 


652 


The  Place  of  Mind  in  Mature, 


po^e,  but  only  from  a  power ;  that  bo 
divine  Actor  therefore  is  required, 
but  only  atoms  extended,  resistiug, 
Bhup«d,  with  spheres  of  mutual  attrac- 
tiou  ifcud  repukioa ;  that,  with  these 
minima  to  begia  with,  a  growth  will 
follow  of  itself  by  which  the  maxima 
will  be  reached  \  and  that  thu^  far 
the  chief  aud  latt*&t  thtug  it  has  done 
is  the  apparition  of  miud  ia  the  hu* 
man  race  and  civilisation  in  human 
society,  conferring  upon  man  the  mel- 
aiiohuly  privilege  of  being,  &o  (ht  as 
he  kuowSj  at  tlie  summit  of  the  uni- 
verse. 

The  main  support  of  this  doctrine 
18  found  in  two  argument^  supplied 
respectively  by  physical  science  and 
by  natural  hi^story ;  each  of  which  we 
will  pass  under  review. 

i\  The  former  relied  on  the  new 
scientific  conception  of  the  unitif  of 
forcti.  When  Newton  establiahed 
the  com[K)siiiou  of  light  in  his  treatise 
on  Optics;,  and  tlie  law  of  gravitation 
in  his  Principia,  be  conceived  him^Lf 
to  be  treating  of  two  separate  powers 
of  nature,  b<?tween  which,  quick  as  he 
was  to  seize  unexpected  relations^  he 
dreamed  of  no  interchange*  Yet  now 
it  is  understood  that  when  coUiaioiit 
occur  of  bodies  gravitating  on  oppo- 
atte  linee,  the  momenta  that  aeem  W 
be  killed  simply  burst  into  light  and 
heaL  Wheu  Priestley^s  expertmenta 
detected  the  most  important  chemical 
element  on  the  ooe  hand^  and  the 
faodauienlal  dedricat  laws  on  the 
odier»  he  seemed  to  move  on  paths  of 
i«i5«arch  that  Imd  no  conticL  *Yet 
in  the  next  genentioiit  chemical  com* 
poonids  wer«  resolved  bf  deetneitj ; 
which  a^sixi  tittna  up  in  exehaoge  for 
m«g^MCtm,  and  caA  pasa  ialo  aotioii, 
beat,  and  light.  To  aea  the  tfaaau- 
grmtliMi  of  oatiual  ageoiejt  tx^ee  ofilj 
Ihiott^  a  him  of  iia  links  tha  eftcrla 
of  tiw  mmikim  o^  l3ii«  tseoi^la  ami. 


So  far  as  it  warma  the 
either  directly  or  through  ih 
shores  that  they  wash,  it 
into  shifting  Layers  and  eui 
creates  mechanical  power. 
aWo  removea  the  soperficial 
thus  far  ependa  itself  not  i 
th^  temperature,  but  in  chal 
form  from  liquid  to  rapor,  s 
tering  the  specific  gravity  ii 
fer  what  was  on  the  deep  to 
of  mountain-tops.  It  is  th 
that  climbs  and  ctdwds  th 
resuming  on  the  va/  the  hi 
in  the  shape  of  cloads,  and 
ties  crystal lixing  into  solid  i 
ice.  The  original  aet  ef  i 
have  now  played  their  part, 
their  escape  ebewbet^  Bn 
sunshine  among  the  gta| 
w  hich  soon  begins  to  remhn 
that  has  been  tied,  ami  tei 
has  been  stoieji.  It  aela 
waters  that  hare  been  locbf 
lets  their  gxaTitatioa  hsf« 
upon  their  flow.  JLa  tJ 
thit>ugh  raTioes^  or  linger  ml 
they  steal  into  the  nefei 
and  trec^  and  by  tlw  tnh 
they  le^Te^  peea  unto  tbe  m 
of  wUml  loroe.  Aad  tf  tM 
homesteads  of  bidi^t^;  aaS 
Ibod  of  a  cirQiaed 
deny  that  they 
the  orgaoic  bcit  to  tike  mi 
and  so  hare  nm  tfae 
fium  the  lowest  to  the  h^ 
of  power?  T^at  tfaa  ml 
amy  he  traeed  &a^ 
the  hnre:^  k  sbova  \fm 
of  tiioaght  ami  miXX  ; 
the  medium  of 
direction  eeta  ti 
the  limb^aad  m 
labomtocy  of  tW 
ferns  Dew 
whidba-M 
odiefs 


oii^I  LUmHom  in  Matu 


55S 


■j^her :  all  dooU  of  identitj  in 

E^  shapes  ii  caid  to  be  removed 
•  test  of  direct  mearareflieiit  be- 
nd  mller  tbe  change.  Tba  bemt- 
f  m  poasid  of  water  bj  oiie  degree 
te  exjMst  meebatiical  equiralenl; ' 
^  giiren  atora  of  elevated  tempeiv 
^  will  oTercomo  tbe  same  weightay 
iier  applied  directlj  to  Itfl  Uies, 
IBied  ficst  iQta  a  thenno^lectrie 
«o  as  to  perform  its  ta&k  bj 
'  The  inference  drawn  fxom 
ootneQa  af  which  these  are 
ii  no  less  than  this ;  that  each 
fatoe  ta  cOQTertible  into  any 
Qodergoed  neither  gain  nor 
the  waj ;  6o  that  the  sum- 
^fever  the  same^  and 
illj  represented  as  the 
(ihange  amongst  the  dif- 
of  iife^  and  between  the 
amd  the  inorganic  re;d]xis. 
mea  the  argument  that,  in 
any  force,  you  hare  virtually 
tbst^  aastuning  ooly  material 
depositaries  of  meehauieal 
and  momentum,  yon  ran 
oxiiTerse  with  an  exhaustive 
and  dispense  with  the 
mind,  except  as  one  of 

;  this  argument,  let  us  grant 

which  are  demanded,  and 

iKo  primordial  space  charged 

pr,  in  molecules  or  in  mass* 

ioa   or  rest,   as  you   may 

Pat   it   under  the   law   of 

and  invest  it  with  what 

joa   please   of  density  and 

'1,  it  perfectly 

lis  you    have 

ptisses,  it  moves,  it  propa- 

dtstributes  impulse,  ia  lia- 

jSeeeleration  and   retardation, 

I  Ikll  oC  771  Ib».  tbroogh  *  Toot,    8«e 
ttt*  !■  Grove't  CorrelaUoa 
,  p.  ai,  iftk  cdiaoo. 

'  ii,p,2»5,AIUiedlfJaB. 


ajid  ocktlMli  aa  Ills 
wlikb  wmj  Imatias  on  Jbdianics  mm 
propeilj'  deaL  In  otdtft  bowtt^Tf  to 
ke^  tbc  pKobleiB  dctf  witbtft  ila  ltt»* 
ita»  ki  IB  bavie  it  ta  the  stmplesl 
ferm,  and  oonoil're  iIhb  atoms  to  W 
an  <^  ffMf  ttken,  I  woold  lain  leaca 
bj  what  step  the  hypothesia  pioposss 
to  s&Gt  its  passage  to  tlw  dbsMseni 
fiwoes  and  tbeir  huiniBsnble  lesnlta. 
Heat  it  may  ma&ngs  to  leadi  by  lbs 
firiction  and  compRssion  of  the  mate- 
rials at  its  disposal;  and  its  metal 
nniTerse  may  thos  hare  its  solid,  li* 
quid,  and  gaseous  provinces ;  but  be- 
yond these  varieties,  its  homogeneous 
particles  cannot  advance  the  hbtory 
one  hair*s  breadth  through  an  eterni- 
ty. It  is  not  true,  then,  that  the  con- 
ditioDs  which  give  the  first  type  of 
force  suffice  to  promote  it  to  the 
second;  and^  in  order  to  start  the 
world  on  its  chemical  career,  you 
must  enlarge  irs  capital,  and  present 
it  with  an  outfit  of  heterogtnemtM 
constituents.  Try,  therefore,  the  ef- 
fect of  such  a  gift  J  fling  into  the 
pre-existing  caldron  the  whole  list 
of  recogDJsed  elementary  substances, 
and  give  leave  to  their  affinities  to 
work;  we  immediately  gain  au  im- 
mense accession  to  our  materials  for 
the  architecture  and  resources  for  the 
changes  of  the  world,  —  the  water 
and  the  air,  the  salts  of  the  ocean, 
and  the  earthy  or  rocky  compounds 
that  compose  the  crust  of  the  globe, 
and  the  variable  states  of  magnetism 
and  heat,  which  throw  the  combi- 
nations into  slow  though  constant 
change.  But  with  all  your  enlarge- 
ment of  data,  turn  them  asi  jou  will, 
at  the  end  of  every  passage  which 
they  explore,  the  door  of  life  is 
closed  against  them  still ;  and  though 
more  than  once  it  has  been  pro- 
claimed that  a  way  has  been  found 
through,  it  has  proved  tUal  IV^  Vw\sx% 


554 


The  Place  of  Mind  in  Nature^ 


thing  was  on  the  wrong  aide  to  begin 
with.  It  is  not  true,  therefore,  that, 
from  the  two  earlier  etagea  of  force, 
the  a^jcent  can  be  made  to  the  yital 
leyel ;  the  ethereal  fire  jet  remains 
in  heaven ;  and  philosophy  has  not 
stretched  forth  the  Promethean  arm 
that  can  briDg  it  down.  And  if,  once 
more,  we  make  you  a  present  of  this 
third  phase  of  power,  and  place  at 
your  disposal  all  that  is  contained  be- 
neath and  within  the  flora  of  the 
world  J  Btill  your  problem  is  no  easier 
than  before ;  you  cannot  take  a  sin- 
gle step  towards  the  deductioa  of 
sensation  and  thought :  neither  at  the 
upper  limit  do  the  highest  plants 
(the  exogens)  transcend  themselves 
and  overbalance  into  animal  exist- 
ence; nor  at  the  lower,  gropo  as 
you  may  among  the  sea-weeds  and 
sponges,  can  you  persuade  the  spo- 
rulea  of  the  one  to  develop  into  the 
other.  It  is  again  not  true,  therefore, 
that,  in  virtue  of  the  convertibility 
of  force,  the  possession  of  any  is  the 
possession  of  the  whole  :  we  give  you 
all  the  forma  but  one ;  and  that  one 
looks  calmly  down  on  your  busy  evo- 
lutions, and  remains  inaccessible,  Is, 
theo,  the  transmigration  of  forcea  al- 
together an  illusion ?  By  no  means; 
but  before  one  can  exchange  with 
another,  both  mmst  be  there  ;  and  to 
turn  their  equivalence  into  a  univer- 
sal formula,  all  must  be  there.  With 
only  one  kind  of  elementary  matter, 
there  can  be  no  chemistry;  with  only 
the  chemical  elements  and  their  lawa^ 
no  life  ;  with  only  vital  resources,  as 
in  the  vegetable  world,  no  beginning 
of  mind.  But  let  thought  and  will, 
with  their  conditions,  once  be  there, 
and  they  will  appropriate  vital  power; 
fifi  life,  once  in  possession,  will  ply 
'  the  alembics  and  the  test-tubes  of  its 
organic  laboratory ;  and  chemical  af- 
finity is  no  sooner  on  the  field  than  it 


plays  its  game  among  th«  coll 
of  simple    gravitatioa*     Heacs^ 
impossible  to  work  the  theory  i 
lution  upwards  ^m  the 
all  force  is  to  be  conceived 
type  must  be  looked  for  tn  the  { 
est  and  all-comprehending  Ufa 
mind  must  be  conceived  as  i 
as  divesting  itself  of  some 
at  each  step  of  its  descent  to  a  I 
stratum  of  law,  till  repredetitedi 
base  under  the   guise  of  sia 
namicd.     Or,  if  you  retain  ikit\ 
in  their  plurality,  then  yoa  mq 
sums  them  aU  among  your  i 
confess,  with  one  of  the 
ing  expositors  of  the  phena 
development,  that  unless 
primordial   elements  you 
ready  the  germs  of  mind  ad  < 
the  inferior  elements,  the  «t 
can    never   be    wrought   out^ 
surely  a  theory  which  is  conb 
ply  to  assume  in  the  germ 
it  has  to  turn  out  full-grown,  I 
no  very  brilliant  light  on  the 
of  the  universe. 

ii  The  second  and  priucipsll 
port  of  the  doctrine  under 
found  in  the  realm  of  natural  1 
and  in  that  province  of  it  irb 
occupied  by  living  beings.    H^ 
is  said,  in   the   field  of  ob 
nearest  to  us,  we  have  evidea 
power  in  e^ch  nature  to  push  { 
and    gain    ground^    as    agaiii 
natures'  less    favorably    coasU^ 
There  is   left  open    to  it  a 
range  of  possible  vartntlons 
type  of  its   present   individui 
which  it  may  avail  itself  in 
rection  that  may  fortify  its 
and  even  if  its  own  instincts 
seise   at  once   the   line   of 
strength,  still,  out  of  its 
tatives,  all  the  fiaeUe  nitilti 


and  Intuition  in  Man. 


556 


footiiigy  and  only  the 

would  niake  good 

XIm  ili-equip[>ed  troops 

fK»8Ki1nUtie8    beiog    always 

lowerer  often  they   return, 

unxied  alone  are  seen  upon 

and  the  world  is  in  poesea- 

»*tiie  fittest   to  live."     We 

principle  of  selt^adjust- 

tation  oiT  each  being  lo  its 

^  withoQt  iiMQing  to  a  de* 

:ar#  disposing    of    it    from 

Mild  its  development  u  no 

escape  from  past  weak- 

m  p0e<ODceiTed  aim  at  a  fn- 


BfiitfasET  ability  nor  wish  tn 
SB  ptttacnlar  indications  of 
dmwn  with  an  adaufmhln 
htdadlh  of  imauehf 
of 
tbek^icnl 
Dol  se«m  lo  me  par- 
and  t^  di^fopoftm 
m  erideoee  and  the 

itm 
^iitiier  Ihdui  the 

je^  Ibr  mu 

I  mmmm.  v«c   scmdny 
Ml  J  in  itn 


there;  making  the  differenee,  undet 
particular  conditions,  between  func- 
tion latent  and  functiou  exercised*  It 
may  therefore  turn  the  less  into  the 
more :  and  it  is  reasonable  to  attrib- 
ute to  it  an  incremefU  to  known  and 
secnred  effects  $  but  not  new  and  un- 
known  elfeets,  for  which  else  there  is 
no  provision.  It  gives  but  a  partial 
and  superficial  account  of  the  phe- 
nomena with  which  it  has  eoncem; 
of  their  degnse;  of  their  incideooe 
here  or  there ;  of  their  occnrrence  now 
or  then^  of  themselves  in  their  char* 
scteristies  it  pre-suppoees,  and  does 
not  sapply  the  eaose.  To  that  cause^ 
tiMa,  Isi  OS  tnm*  Let  us  consider 
what  flinsi  be  epeo  ike  field,  before 
eoopetitioikcan  arise* 

(2.)  It  oannot  net  except  in  the 
pressDeeef  msmm  pomMUi^  qf  a  Ui^ 
Ur^rworu,    A  sln^gle  ool  of  rel^ 

thni  n 
sslatm  adraaiage  is  wiihiii  paspr^— 
^at  ikere  is  a  pruw  of 

Isr  tke  contest.    The  ri? aliy 
of  hmmm  Bigir  te  il  te  bat  an  in- 

mmi  eiiiy  when  llaag  iote 
tile  aUsI  ef  na  iadeteminate  varie^ 
ef  ateaninlive  <MdilieM  en  k 
asjeeopn.  Whca  it.  fi 
iabt»weck,wkadeeeilkei^«e  l# 

ter    It  necBulB  mnaMf 
fo  ike  tnoBph  and  wmrwimnkip  e^ 

u  9mwm^    0iMib  the 
Ike 

tetkeswsft;  k«siti 
tkeiMtf  Jeetky 
efsfaadiiSMnL    Snf^aseni 

eeir*w*>i 


656 


TJie  Place  of  Mind  in  iVaft/re, 


tion,  and  is  peYyaded  hj  &n  ideal 
power  unapproached  by  the  forces  of 
necessity.  Thaa  tbe  law  of  ^*  natu- 
ral selection,"  instead  of  dispensing 
with  anterior  causation  and  enabling 
the  animal  races  t®  be  their  own 
providence  and  do  all  their  own  work^ 
distinctly  testifies  to  a  constitution  of 
the  world  pre-arranged  for  progress, 
externally  spread  .with  large  choice 
of  conditions,  and  with  internal  pro- 
Tisious  for  seizing  and  realizing  the 
best.  On  such  a  world,  rich  in  open 
possibilities,  of  beauty,  strength,  af- 
fection, intellect,  and  character,  they 
are  planted  and  set  free;  charged 
with  instincts  eagerly  urging  them  to 
secure  the  preferable  line  of  each  aU 
ternative;  and  disposing  themselves, 
by  the  very  conditions  of  equilibrium, 
into  a  natural  hierarcliy,  in  which 
the  worthiest  to  live  are  in  the  ascen- 
dent, and  the  standard  of  life  is  for- 
ever rising.  What  can  look  more 
like  the  field  of  a  directing  Will  in- 
tent upon  the  good?  Indeed,  the 
doctrine  of  *'  natural  selection  "  owes 
a  large  part  of  its  verisimilitude  to 
ita  skilful  imitation  of  the  conditions 
and  method  of  free-will,  —  the  inde- 
terminate varieties  of  possible  move- 
ment; tbe  presentation  of  these  be- 
fore a  selective  power  j  the  determi- 
nation of  the  problem  by  fitness  for 
preference;  —  all  these  are  features 
that  would  belong  no  less  to  the  ad- 
ministration of  a  presiding  Mind; 
and  that,  instead  of  resorting  for  the 
last  solution  to  this  high  arbitrament, 
men  of  science  should  suppose  it  to 
be  blindly  fought  out  by  the  compet- 
ing creatures,  as  if  they  were  su* 
pieme,  is  one  of  the  marvels  which 
the  professional  intellect,  what«ver 
its  department,  more  often  exhibits 
than  explains. 

(3.)    But,  before   competition   can 
arise,  there  must  be,  besides  t\ie  ^c\<\ 


of  favorable  possibility,  desire  or  i 
stinct  to  lay  hold  of  its  opjwr.nnnji 
Here    it  is  that  we    t 
dynamics  of  evolution^ 
can  only  bring  to  a  somewhat 
pitch.     Here,  it   mast   be  aiixi 
there  is  at  work  a  genuine  pri 
of  progression,  the  limits  of  wti 
is  difiicult  to  fix.     Every  bemj;  \ 
is  so  far  individuated  as  to  b^  s| 
rate  centre  of  f  eneation  and  of  ill 
ancing  active  spontaneity,  b  tm(| 
with  a  self-asserting  powe 
on  tlie  field  already  supp 
coming  a  self-advancing  power. 
der  its  operation,  there  is,  no  i 
increasing  differentiation  of  i 
and  refinement  of  function 
expected  to  emerge ;  nor  is  tbet] 
reason,  except  such  as  the  fn 
natural  history  may  impose,  whl 
process   should   be   arrest eJ   aI 
boundaries  of  the  species  recugl 
in  our  present  classifications, 
biy,  if  the  slow  increments 
plexity   in    the    organs    of 
beings  on  the  globe  were  all 
out   before    us,    the    whole    tet 
multitudes   now   peopling  the 
the  waters,  and   the  air,   mig 
seen  radiating  from  a  commoo 
in  lines  of  various  divergeii*7ri 
however  remote   their  existing 
tions,  might  group  themselvc'd  i 
family.     The  speculative  critic  I 
here  grant  without  stint  all  tha 
scheme  of  development  can  as^k  ;1 
he   must  leave    it   to   the   ofltu 
and  physiologist  to  break  up  thu 
ture  into  sections,  if  they  most 
then,  wkf/  must  he  grant  it  7 
cause  here,  having  crossed  tba  1 
gin  of  animal   life,  we  have, 
germ  of  feeling  and  idea,  not 
a    persistent    but    a    self-prou 
force,  able  to  turn  to  account 
ever  is  below  it;  the  mental 
^^^um\\&  TS^mentSf  dominatiJl 


cmdLUttUUm  ut  Man. 


557 


od  eonstaUDing  it  to  wemf% 
org&nUai;  and^  for  that  end* 
id  its  applicatioQ  of  the  clieiii- 
and  make  them  better 
their  commaod  of  mechan- 
Obseire,  however,  that,  if 
in^ot  with  a  truly  fruitful  agen* 
apA^ble  dC  acGompli&hjDg  difliealt 
i  of  txe'w  oomhin^\oa  and  delicate 
pbriutQ,  we  meet  with  it  k&rm 
^  »  mom^t^we  fall  back 
^^  of  sentient  life,  and 
^^eoe  of  this  eager»  aggree- 
^..ii  competing  power,  we  part 
Ljr  with  all  principle  of  pcog* 
cor.-  \r  lose  the  ten- 

to  thai  ng  complexitj 

and  subiietj  of  combina- 
\rh  distinguished  the  organic 
thr  inorganic  compounds.     Be* 
level  of  life,  there  is  no  room 
operation  of  "natural  aelee- 
Ite  place  id  there  occupied  bj 
principle,  for  which  no  «uch 
of    coQStnictire   adaptation 
dalmedi  —  I  mean,  the    dj^ 
rule  of  actian  Qn  the  line  of 
—  a   rule,  the  work- 
vliieh  is  qoite  in  the  opposite 
For    eridentlj    it    goes 
Iks  eetablishment  of  unstable 
of  equilibrium,  and  must 
be  the  enemy  rather  than 
of  the  complex  ingredients, 
tiasues,  and  the  multi- 
tdattoiifl,   af   sentient   bodies; 
ita  (»wn  theatre  mu!$t  prevent 
eot  formation  of  any  but 
iler  mitons  among  the  mate- 
ta»     Accordingly,  all  the 
ariog  maeeea  that  form  and 
ardiiteetore  of  inorganic  na- 
ila    liiBflatoii^    and  clay,   its 
sahiii  tta  water  and  air,  — 
ipomida,  or  a  mixture,  of  few 
Mrs*     And    the 
lliat  its  and  surren* 

or^oiiiii  it  had  huilt  and 


held,  the  lame  uiiigoniat  prindpto 
alters  on  potucattoii,  aod  sets  to  wiA 
to  destroy  the  intricate  structure  of 
^'pninmale  principles"  with  their 
»  coflnpoond  radicals."  With  life  and  I 
mind,  therefore,  there  begins^  whether 
by  modified  aMnities  or  by  removal 
of  waste,  a  tension  against  these 
lower  poweia,  catxying  the  being  up 
to  a  greater  or  lee^  height  upon  the 
wing  I  but  with  life  it  ends,  leaving 
him  then  to  the  perpetual  gravitation 
that  completes  the  loftiest  flight  u[»on 
the  ground.  Within  the  limits  of 
her  physics  and  chemistry  aJone,  Na^* 
ture  discloses  no  principle  of  pragre^ 
sion,  bat  only  provisions  for  perio- 
dicity ;  and  out  of  this  realm,  without 
farther  resources,  she  could  never 
riae* 

The  downward  tendency  which  seta 
in  with  any  relaxation  of  the  differ- 
entiating forces  of  life,  is  evinced,  not 
only  in  the  extreme  case  of  dissolution 
in  death,  but  in  the  well-known  re- 
lapse of  organs  which  have  been 
artificially  developed  into  exceptional 
perfection  back  into  their  earlier 
state,  when  relieved  of  the  strain,  and 
left  to  themselves.  Under  the  ten* 
sion  of  a  directing  mental  interest, 
whether  supplied  by  the  animaVs  own 
instincts  or  by  the  controlling  car© 
of  man,  the  organism  yields  itself  to 
be  moulded  into  more  special  and 
highly-finiithed  forms;  and  a  series 
of  a;!*ceniiing  variations  withdraws 
the  nature  from  its  original  or  firsts 
known  type.  But  wherever  we  can 
lift  the  tension  o^  the  too  skilful 
balance  proves  unstable^  and  the  htw 
of  reversfiion  re-instates  the  simpkn* 
conditions.  Only  on  tlie  higher  leveU 
of  life  do  we  find  a  self-workinj^  prin- 
ciple of  progreasiou:  anci,  till  we 
reach  them,  development  wants  its 
dynamics;  and,  though  there  may  be 
evolution,  it  ctumot  be  wVl-e^^tAuVv^Xi. 


658 


The  Place  of  Mind  in  Nature. 


1 


These  considerations  appear  to  me 
to  break  the  back  of  this  fonnidable 
argument  in  the  middle ;  and  to  ahow 
the  impossibility  of  dispensing  with 
the  presence  of  mind  in  any  scene  of 
ascending  being,  where  the  little  is 
becoming  great,  and  the  dead  alivei 
and  the  shapeless  beautiful^  aad  the 
sentient  moral,  and  the  moral  spirit- 
ual Is  it  not,  in  truth,  a  strange 
choice,  to  set  up  ^*  evoluti^n/^  of  all 
things,  as  the  negation  of  purpose 
predisposing  what  is  to  come  7  For 
what  does  the  word  mean,  and  whence 
is  it  borrowed  ?  It  means,  to  unfold 
horn  within ;  and  it  is  taken  from 
the  history  of  the  seed  or  ejnbiyo  of 
living  natures.  And  what  is  the  seed, 
but  a  casket  of  pre-arranged  futuri- 
ties, with  its  whole  contents  prospeC' 
tim,  settled  to  be  what  they  are  by 
reference  to  ends  still  in  the  distance  ? 
If  a  grain  of  wheat  be  folded  in  a 
mummy-cloth  and  put  into  a  cata- 
comb, its  germ  for  growing  and  its 
albumen  for  feeding  sleep  side  by 
side,  and  never  find  each  other  out. 
But  no  sooner  does  it  drop,  thou- 
sands of  years  after,  on  the  warm  and 
moistened  field,  than  their  mutual 
play  begins,  and  the  plumule  rises 
and  lives  upon  its  store  till  it  is  able 
to  win  its  own  maintenance  from  the 
ground*  Not  only  are  its  two  parts, 
therefore,  relative  to  each  other,  but 
both  are  relative  to  conditions  lying 
in  another  department  of  the  world, 
—  the  clouds,  the  atmosphere,  the 
soil ;  in  the  absence  of  which  they 
remain  barren  and  functioaless,  — 
and  thiSf  from  a  cause  tliat  has  no 
sense  of  relation!  The  human  ear, 
moulded  in  the  silent  matrix  of  na- 
ture*  is  formed  with  a  nerve  suscepti- 
ble to  one  influence  alone,  and  that 
an  absent  one,  the  undulations  of  a 
medium  into  which  it  is  not  yet  bom ; 
and,  in  anticipation  of  the  whole  mu- 


aioal  scale,  with  all  ita  hamoa 
nishes  itself  with  a  microso^ 
piano  of    three    thousand  si 
strings,  each    ready  to  respei 
difTerent  and  definite  numW  4 
vibrations;    and  this^   from  i 
that  never  meant  to  bring  t 
the  inner  organ  and  the  oate 
um,   now  hidden    from   each 
The  eye,  shaped  in  the  dark,j 
an  exclusive  sensibility  to  mof 
propagated  irom  distant  skittss 
weaves   its  tissnesi,  and   dtsp 
contents,  and  hangs  its  cuita 
adjusts  i\s  range  of  motiMij 
meet    every   exigency  of 
and  dispersion  of  the  nntrisi 
and  be  ready  to  paint  in  its 
the  whole    perspective    of 
dreamed   world    without;   m 
from  a  cause  incapable  of  h« 
end  in  view  I     Surely,  nothini 
evolved  that  is  not  fiztt  h 
and  if  there  be  any  thing  wi 
only  carries  a  definite  futun 
but  has  the  whole  ratwnaU 
present  constitution  grounded 
future,  it  is  the  embryo  whei 
strange   humor,  this  denial 
causes  has  chosen  to  borrow  iti 
Kot  more  certainly  is  the  stati 
has    yet   to  be,  already  pott 
contained  in   the   preeonciiptii 
sketches  of  the  artist,  than  thi 
ly  tree  of  the  next  centniy 
beech-mast    that    drops    npo 
ground;  or  the  whole  cIms  « 
if  yon  give  them  a  common  i 
in  the  eggs  to  which  you  chom 
back  as  first ;  or  the  entire  tyi 
nature  in  any  germinal  cell  i 
prolific   minimum  whenco  yc 
pose    its    organism    to    havv 
brought  out     Evolution  and 
tion  are  inseparable  ooocapba 
back  as  you  will^  and  tvy  li 
the  movement  from  behind  in 
drawing  it  ^m  before,  dtn 


«0 


rdiefe 


CX)IJXSEI>. 


M.  A.  EMomxw, 


SoAB  iwl  toe  lugli ! 
Wait  p«iieiitiy^kft  otkcr  InitL 

The  gods  nik  n 
BotaotoBrficUsor 


SliiTing  to  deavc  tlie  upper  d^ 

With  oaii  pmkMii,  fi^  bearai-dmik, 
To  red  on  entli,  or  proeHmte  lie. 


So«r  Bot  loo  lugli  I 
Hot  oalf  fearlkl  of  too  aoddoi  &n, 

But  tlttt  sireet  io««i»  bonootli  til  j 
Mmj  not  reznam  mipithCTod  all. 

Pren  Kemft  to  evtli ! 
Earth  is  thj  wd]-«ppomted  ^heio: 

Who  waOci  it  beo^  with  iMil  doB^ 
^  Cmmteth  its  man/  joja  aoat 


560 


Helen  L.  GiUon. 


HELEN  L.  GILSOK 
A  MEMORIAL. 


IL 

OETTYSBURO. 

The  campaign  of  Gettysburg  fol- 
lowed gibarply  after  the  battle  of 
C'lianeellorsvilie.  Gen.  Lee  gave  his 
enemy  no  time  to  recover,  but  pushed 
boldly  fonvard  in  his  Inst  offensive 
movement  into  Maryland,  staking 
all,  as  it  is  believed,  upon  the  issue  of 
battle  upon  Korthern  soil. 

The  army  of  the  Potomac  pushed 
rapidly  on  within  striking  distance 
of  its  enemy,  who  were  ati»last  con- 
cern ted  and  defeated  in  an  engage- 
ment which  will  stand  in  our  annaU 
as  the  great  battle  of  the  war. 

Miss  Gilson  reached  the  tield  as  the 
contest  ended.  The  lovely  meadows 
with  ripening  grain,  giving  promise  so 
re<^ently  of  a  peaceful  harvest,  were 
now  torn  and  blood-stained.  For 
miles  the  dtbris  of  the  battle,  the 
dead  and  dying,  the  shattered  trees 
and  ruined  homes,  were  the  visible 
scars  of  that  dreadful  field.  The 
wounded  were  at  once  gathered  into 
hospital-tamps,  and  all  the  appli- 
ances of  both  tite  medical  and  sanitary 
departments  were  used  for  healing. 

**  Clothed  in  purity  and  mercy," 
Miss  Gilson  moved  about  the  hospi- 
tals of  this  vast  field,  carrying  cheer, 
comfort,  peace,  and  a  sense  of  home, 
to  in  any  thousand  sufiering  men. 
From  the  hour  of  victory  until  death 
had  gathered  all  who^e  wounds  were 
not  iDmieiliately  fatal,  she  lingered 
on  in  her  ministrj^,  tenderly  serving 
those  whose  way  to  the  dark  valley 
was  a  path  of  pain,  quickening  to 
convalescence  those  who  needed  the 
sweet  atmosphere  she  created  in  the 
wards,  and  inspiring  to  a  renewed 
ooijaecration  to  duty  lliose  ^\io  ^«:1£^ 


to  step  into  the  ranks  agftin 

for  their  country. 

Dr.  Bellows  writes  aa  foDd 
experience  on  this  field,  aD< 
striking  picture  of  MLs»  Gik 
appeared  at  this  time  :  — 

*'  A  few  days  af>er  the  battk 

bar^,  when  more  than  twcnt| 
hadly  wounded  men  filled  that 
pHvftte  houses*  die  bams  and 
the  extemporized  canvas  hoiipU 
made  thjit  once  fair  region  a 
boundless  misery,  I  went  out  10 
hospitals  of  the  3d  Corpd^ 
from  town,  where  twenty-fin 
men  lay  in  their  tents,  a  vi 
lilated  humanity.  Who  ran 
or  who  would  ever  wish  to  il* 
could,  the  various  and  borril 
injury  represenied  in  ibu 
victims  of  thjit  gUirlotis 
fight  1  But»  lunid  all  their 
air  of  triumph  animated  th« 
those  ranks  of  hL*r*Jcs,  even 
ing^beds.  No  murmurs 
Fight*  of  tbdr  exhiiustjon^ 
of  their  anguish. 

**  One  woman,  young  and  Mr| 
and  earnest,  clothed  in  purity  «| 
—  the  only  woman  on  tbat 
camp,  —  moTed  in  an<l  out  of  i 
tal  tents,  ppe .iking  some  ten<i 
giving  some  restoring  cortliah  hi 
hand  of  a  dyin^f  boy,  or  reevlvii 
words  of  a  husband  for  his  wid 
I  can  never  forget  how,  amid  »cfl 
under  ordinary  circumsiancet 
could  have  apfK?ared  tn  wiiliouC 
decorum,  the  h<dy  pity  and  |iui 
angel  of  mercy  made  hvr 
fit  as  diough  8ht*  hud  indi 
of  heaven,  Hie  men  them! 
or  well,  all  pceme*!  awed  and 
such  a  re5ideut  among  them. 

**  SepnraTrd  fnarn  the  main 
shallow  ntneam.  ruuning  tlii 
ravine,  wa*  a  honpiiaJ,  w 
\^^  ^^  «C  <M«  own  coeii, 


Mdok  iL  (riT^jA. 


f*&mh 


had  bi  »fevkiiteis«o0e« 

m  baaks.     For  Uiree  d^i 

1^o«pital  of  tbe  nebds 
kt  cufl*  teiB  nr^iiriDe  oad  wpylin  bf 
^•tMBibiEir  of  fvAduji^  it.  A.  Iirmve 
~  fepestedlj  swaai  tine 
til  m  ht^  of  medkiiie  mad  wmaSX 

iMAvklie.      Aeooai|Maicd  br 

wvmm»  oMoed  above,  I  fooad 

at  iIm  MfiittI  MOingat  poMible* 

i  ttSlviUltlgt^  nUrjiwitBd  SOQIMk      Hk 

wsi   a  Inra  amd  a  itaiUei  '  £««7 

r^«  ri'citpieil  by  wreCcbed  tuflrtmi^ 

iQ  tbe  faiggef]  grmf  of  tbe  Coo- 

pp*^  iMFiibriii.  *  *  Tlierat  mmi  tffttp# 
^bnw  ffviskht;;  whk  raia,  aad  uar- 
^Ewilii  fvnttia,  tbetr  woomla  still 
^■1^  ami  maa j  lon^in^  fur  amputA- 

|g  an4  aoble  youth,  with  the  umrk 
■bbi«edit  r   fiQe-ctit  tea- 

^Kii  h^trtz  •  anJ  death  in 

Br  :   boilow  eves.     The  sar- 

Li  ^t  to  work  among  tliem ; 

pBl»  juit  efit  off  (oae  1  recollect 
iVidb  die  beavjr  shoe  and  stocking 
^poa  ii)  lajr  in  dreadful  csnslesa- 
i^  r,/i  .;  .**  about  the  place 

exbaa^«Hl  tbe  little  store 

L  A  brought  with  us^  one 

k  '    said    to   Mi59   G'llsoOf 

r  inn  ik  little brmn  ? ** 

rtfd  ;   **  V\\  Hfx'T  yon 

i   do  for  either   siilo:" 

I  midst  of  that  bund  of 

j^mk  suilvr^'fN  nhe  8too<]  't  anil  wiib  a 

•f  btfaYeiiljr    inty  and  coirnt'stiiesfw 

99  rmts^  to  Go<l,  sang,  **  When  thi* 

War  is  Orur,"  in  a  elcar»  plfaUing 

fcai  iaaJ«  mis  reoiovt?  my  lijit,  ami 

'"    *^it    mytislf    ujwn  my  km^cs. 

riuuii  o^iasuO  ;  and,  while  the 

MK  lALf  pain  «ccrmc<l  charmed  away. 

1^^801  it  ccMmsd,  one  poor  fellow, 

^poil  Ilia  ri^t  iirm«  raisetl  hb  leA, 

^L  *  O  ansVuri  /  /  ^ish  I  Lid  my 


561 

only  to  clap  my 

«D  Genrsbttrf  that  ni^ht, 

tool  dte   S^niur^*- 

a  beavy  wagiMH 

lor  iboae  poor  wrvldiea» 

Tlie  mmiy  of  tbe  PotoiDac,  after  the 
battle  of  Gettjdbarg,  and  tbe  pur- 
Mtt  of  Gtn.  Lee  in  July,  1S63,  re- 
imliieii  iaactivt;  on  the  line  of  the 
R«ppallaQiio>:k.  antil  tbe  spring  of 
1864,  when  Gen.  Grant  made  bis 
heail-<)iiarteri  ra  the  field  in  Virginia. 

In  October,  1863,  ML?s  Gilsoti  re- 
ttnoed  bioiiie  for  needful  re$t ;  and  kte 
in  Norember  went  with  Mr.  Fay  to 
tbe  department  of  South  Carolina, 
wbere^  at  Foil/  Island,  there  wa^ 
pwestmg  need  of  her  mint^ry.  Here 
die  worked  qnietly  and  happily,  with 
a  fertility  of  resource  and  a  power  of 
adaptation,  although  without  incident, 
yet  winning  the  whole  department  to 
her  side.  This  ministry  continued 
through  the  winter  months ;  and  when 
it  became  apparent  in  the  early  spring 
of  1864,  that  the  army  of  the  Poto- 
mac, pe-enforoed,  re-organ  i^ed,  and  re- 
inrigorated,  was  again  ready  for  ai-tive 
serrice,  Mi^s  Gilaon  returned  to  her 
old  field  to  be  prepared  for  the  sshock 
of  battle. 

It  came  early  in  ^laj.  As  desper- 
ately contested  as  had  been  the  ad- 
vance of  the  army  on  its*  previousi 
campaigns  against  Richmond,  it  miuie 
a  still  more  bloody  trail  in  this  tremen- 
dous conflict  A  month  of-battlee 
and  marches,  from  the  Wilderness  and 
Spottsylvania  to  Cold  Harbor,  left 
upon  our  hands  an  army  of  woundod 
men.  The  city  of  Fredericksburg 
was  at  first  the  great  depot  for  their 
reception  and  care. 

On  the  13th  of  May,  Jliss  Gilson 
writes,  — 

"  TTic  heart  revolts  at  iba  iWu^^i  ^  ^Btr 


A 


MeHen  L,  Gllson, 


Rcribing  tbe  state  of  tilings  here*  The 
sigbtis  are  terrible ;  and  tbe  air  is  heavy 
with  tbe  horrible  wior,  not  from  tbe  wound- 
ed alone,  but  from  tbe  aeeuiuulatian  of 
filth  about  the  city.  Erory  church,  store, 
and  dwelling  is  filled  with  tbu  wounded, 
and  they  are  ccmstaiitly  arriving  from 
the  front,  twelve  miles  from  here.  The 
slaughter  is  horrible,  and  tlje  bravery  of 
our  men  i^  beyonci  com  pari  sson  ;  not  only 
the  impulsive  counigc  of  the  bnttle-field, 
but  the  calmer  and  more  quiet  courage 
of  men  content  to  Ue,  as  they  are  lying, 
on  tbe  hard  dixir^,  after  severe  and  painful 
amputadonft,  and  not  a  pad  or  a  soil  pil- 
low for  their  terrible  wounds. 

^'  It  h  midnight  now  ;  tbe  patients  are 
asleep,  and  wii  anj  awaiting  the  arrival 
of  ambulances  from  tke  fronts  with  our 
womnded  from  the  linttle  of  yesterday. 
Every  hour  U  im]>>rtaiit,  but  with  every 
victory  come  sad  ti'liii;j;s  of  the  fall  of 
some  of  our  best  and  bravest  men/' 

'^1/ay  17,  18G4.  —  Every  house,  store, 
and  church  is  crowded  with  wounded. 
Farm-houses  and  barns  on  tbe  outskirts 
of  the  city  are  filled.  Hospital  touches 
hospital.  We  have  never  known  such  an 
experience.  Wc  are  all  wearj' ;  but  Uie 
iiight  of  the  frcjth  ttxjops  which  are  pass- 
ing dally  to  the  front  invigorates  usi  aiid 
keeps  up  our  working  power  from  day  to 
day.  The  ambulance  tnuns  arrive  d»iily» 
Willi  hundreds  of  men,  uufed,  uucared  for, 
dying." 

At  thin  time  Frodericlcsburg  con- 
tained twenty  thousand  woon ded  men. 
The  wagon-traina  discharged  their 
living  freights  on  the  side-walks  and 
in  the  ;*t rectus,  until  shelter  could  be 
found  for  them  j  and  so  the  great  toil 
of  mercy  went  on.  Miss  Gibon'j*  tent 
was  pitched  npon  the  Court-House 
Square.  Here  were  her  kitcdiens, 
where  for  thou^^ands  of  men  the  nonr- 
lii^hincnt  and  food  was  prepared  for  dis- 
tribution. The  whole  city  was  her 
ward.     At  thi^  time  she  wrote  :  — 

"I  have  visited  six  hospitals  to-day. 
AfW  midnijrht  I  went  into  one  of  the 
churches  which  was  CiUed  viVtV  ^tiunds^d. 
Many  ol'  the  men  were  ii*\«!«^^  Wv  mtit^ 


t  dff 


were  sufiering  intense  pain. 
ing  some  thnij  tbi're,  chaii;rii 
tion  of  thU  onti*s  iimK  platan^ 
der  thai  stump,  5tc.»  a  low, 
W3»  heart],  as  if  in  prayer. 
sou  nils  filled  lite  old  chiin'h. 
groaning  in  agony ;  alhers  cl 
nurse  ;  one  stout  Gertuati  w; 
in  his  muther-tongue.  nnd  t\) 
sonorous  tones  bespe;*'^ 
sleep.  But  amid  all,  > 
of  a  distant  sea*  came  to  cntr  ei 
of  prayer*  We  tmeed  the 
found  it  was  that  of  m 
lying  with  closed  eyes  ftnii 
fab  knapsack  for  a  pil 
the  floor,  praying  that 
tain  his  dear  wile  in  this  the 
calamity,  and  be  a  father  lo  tt 
whom  he  committed  to  his  < 
prayer  was  most  simple  and  be« 
with  his  dying  breath  he  did 
his  bleeding  country.  The 
hour,  the  Ihckeriag  lii^ht  uf 
urehvd  roof,  the  altar  of  the  thu^ 
Gothic  outline  of  the  architeetu^ 
solemnity  of  tbe  incideatr  mtui 
the  nevcr-to-be-forgotum  liicidi 
hospital  lives/' 

This  care  f»^r  tho 
coniined  to  the  limits  ol 
extcuded  to  the  fields  fttid  fs 
beyond  the  town,  when*  th 
other*  were  quartered   in 
barns. 

From  Mr.   Reed'a  "  Ho«! 
we  make  the  following  ejct 
gives  a  glimpse  of  M 
entered  one  of  thesr 
outskirts  of  the  town ;  — 

**  One  aAcrnooti,  juut  h<if< 
tion  of  FrtKlericksbur)*,  wJn 
phere  of  our  rooms  wii^ 
wy  were  hmjfini;  for  a  i 
Kortbem  air,  and  tlie 
in   pain  or  rc«tlr«ft  v. 
hearts  wen?  >  ^  ; 

I  hcanJ  a  li;j;i  ^      ^    n   xiw.  *'-r.. 

look  in::;  up.  1  s;iw  a  young  Udy  ta 
brought  witlx  her  sticli  an 
i^alm  and  cheerftil  ooara^  tu  bo 


X.  GUioa. 


563 


I  to  pwt  m 

Ftnt  vilh 
r;   m  frieodlf 


^ndivtl 

ia  tbote  fev 
I  ma  Hi^l  Abiistry.  Befiive 
itbeiu^tol&eB, — frit 
AAlkwal  wrinij,  then  mbb 
iT«  Kjnaa  to  ittvog^a  iftc 
( I  reaMi»ber  how  tke  aoCei  pRi«- 
r  part  of  ike  basldittf  .     Sol- 
m  wertre  wtmods^  from  tlie 
I  to  rmwl  fwt  hito  the  OK 
I  &O01  below  cf^pC  up  oo  tlicir 
t  toou^  to  esfdb  e'vvfj  boC^  mi 
'  tbo  bettodiedcNi  of  her  pre»- 
It  100  to  them.    Thea  Ae 
I  ^d  nol  kaow  vlio  flie  wsa^ 
r  soch  mnred  wsid  ndled  at 
'oftkrmali     TbisbiBffint 
I  of  Belea  Gilaoo.** 


had  hia  doini  to 
«ra  Utfuig  brtgii%« 
hatf  ahttcmtjd  in  the 


I  diis  BLuiJstiy  va0   going  on, 

o(  eixteen    tbgnisaiKl    men 

through  Fi^«ridrsharg 

Of  nt  of  the  armT*  The 

fall   of    fire,  and    their 

was  enkindled  afresh   at 

I  captoxed  gnns  and  pris- 

ttsylraiu%  then  march- 

.     The  clusterings  roses 

I  in  pfofasion  ererrwhcre ; 

un  passed,  garlands  of 

t  thrcivm  to  them  as  if  to 

'  way  to  victory.     Within  a 

( til«y  went  into  an  engage^ 

tbeibre  the  next  night  closed 

I  bimdred    men  were  hroiight 

mgf  wounded,  dead,  or  dy- 

hardly  faded,  stained 

Th*^  ambulance    train 

the  night  in  a  ploughed, 

I  at   the    foot   of    Marie's 

fe  quottf  again  from  Mr* 

» tAj9,  **  The  cmtip  was  settled 


haH  li^i^tiiig  it 
Id  thoM  wbo 
the  ^onitt  ^  deatk  Bfr- 
tailing  o«r  gaaidit  ^>^  risited  tvecy 
g  thoee  who  fcad 
died.  One  %  one  they  wem  pboed 
upon  aczetcheis*  their  hoiiies  hazAy 
eold^  aifed  cairied  to  an  adjoiiuiig  fi«td» 
wh«X9  they  wers  Ud  Mde  h^  side^ 
Our  kftrhfiB  waa  taxed  Co  its  ntmoel 
in  sappfyittf  n«meiiaeat»  and  h«lbf9 
midnight  c^efy  attti  had  heea  cai^ 
lolly  and  tendeilyittmL  Oar  work 
still  went  on.  Thet^  wiare  thmhhtng 
woonda  to  hm  drnsed,  and  feirered 
limha  to  ha  ooc^ed  by  freah- water  mp^ 
pUeatioiBa.  With  haoas,  haikdage% 
spoQges^  aod  lint  «»d  dcmr  ipring  wa» 
ter,  we  went  from  ambttliiic^  Ut 


hathing,  cleanaiog,  diiasiii;^ 
■oflthiag  woonda^  yet  htA  and  open  i 
and  aocue  of  them  eo  ghastly  as  to 
make  ns  almost  farnt.  Aims^  l<9^ 
shocddeny  jaws,  and  feet,  had  been  car* 
ried  away.  Many  hail  recetiriHl  only 
the  most  hurried  treatment  u|H>n  the 
field,  and  others  had  not  been  a^ 
tended  to  at  alL  .  .  . 

**  Moving  through  the  train,  we  kept 
at  work  until  all  wa^  stilL  The  em* 
h€TS  of  the  fires  were  dying  out;  |>**r- 
fect  stillness  reigned  thioughout  the 
camp,  with  the  exception  of  the  moan- 
ing of  the  men,  who  were  to  pass  a 
sleepless  night  of  pain.  Thi)  deai 
were  not  to  he  VH  uncared-for.  There 
they  were,  in  one  long  row,  stiff 
and  starkf  the  moon  looking  calmly 
down  upon  theni,  —  all  soldiers  of  a 
comniou  cause,  all  dead  in  a  service 
wliich  we  trust  hail  given  ihein  its 
perfect  freedom.  With  a  flickering 
candle  wo  went  over  auAx  hovi^', feU'wax- 
iDing  clothing,  marking  u^^t^*  Bit\X^^, 


564 


Edm  L.  Gihon. 


—  gtm-s  topper  or  watch,  phatograph 
or  Bible ;  collecting  data  of  womids  or 
tleath,  with  the  addresses  of  their 
friends,  to  whom  the  news  wag  yet  to 

come  of  their  bunal  in  an  enemy's 
country  by  friendly  ban  da.  Then, 
with  tent-cluth  and  blanket,  wc  cov- 
ered them,  leaving  them  to  be  bap* 
tized  with  the  dews  of  evenings  and 
committing  them  to  tlje  hands  of  a 
loving  and  merciful  God. 

**  At  daylight  wc  were  on  the  field 
again,  with  fresh  water,  crackers,  railk- 
puncli  and  coffee,  to  give  the  wounded 
men  all  the  refreshment  we  could  be- 
fore starting  them  over  the  terrible 
roads  between  Fredericksburg  and 
Belle  Plain,  The  dead  were  now  to 
bo  buried.  For  hours  the  sun  had 
been  blazing  with  its  midsummer  heat 
upon  the  tield,  and  its  effect  was  only 
too  apparent.  With  two  spades  we 
began  to  dig  the  trench,  in  which 
they  were  to  be  laid  ;  and  when  it 
was  iiiiished^  the  blanket-coverings 
wore  removed,  and  Mr,  Channing* 
stood  upon  the  embankment,  and 
commenced  his  short  funeral  service: 
*  When  this  corruptible  shall  have 
put  on  in  corruption,  and  this  mortal 
shall  have  put  on  immortality,  then 
shall  be  brought  to  pass  the  saying 
that  is  written,  Death  is  swallowed 
up  in  victory.* 

"  AVith  an  appropriate  and  touching 
prayer,  fervently  remembering  tliose 
who  were  bereaved,  we  laid,  one  by 
one,  in  their  last  resting-place,  those 
mutilated  bixlies,  —  so  changed  in 
those  last  few  hours  that  no  friend 
could  have  recognized  them. 

'*  The  wurk  of  succor  and  healing 
went  on  through  these  days  and 
nights  of  uni>aralleled  snfFering,  The 
convalescents,  and  those  whose  wounds 
were  slight,  were  sent  forward  on  foot 
fo  Belle  Plain,  while  wti.gou-tT^v\m  Mid 


steamers,  to  the  full  capaeil 
Medical  and  Quartenna^ter  i 
men ts,  were  employed  to  coa 
work  of  evacuation.  The 
fought  its  way  from  its  b« 
Potomac,  to  the  new  one 
for  the  moment  at  Port  Kuyi 
Happahannock ;  and  as  th« 
Fredericksburg  swarmed  wi 
rilJa-band,  our  Sanitary  Ca 
steamer  **  Kent ''  swung 
stream  to  receive  the  parting 
those  who  were  just  too  lat^  ti 
our  wounded, 

**  There  were  forty  cases  of 
tions  on  our  decks.  Miss  Gilf 
no  rest.  The  men  had  been 
on  stretchers  from  the  out] 
had  had  no  care ;  and  th« 
soothing  ministry  went  oi^ 
these  faithful  workers  wore 
fainting  at  their  work.  At  - 
on  the  river,  a  hospitid 
stopped  to  receive  our 
There  was  not  force  enuug 
steamer  to  remove  them  ;  aiK 
diers  who  were  swarming 
decks  of  thd  government  sti 
fused  to  help.  Thoy  would 
against  their  will*  and  this 
their  business.  Miss  Gilsioi 
netic  influence  was  broiigh 
upon  them^  and  in  an  inal 
were  ready  to  lend  a  hand, 
only  her  presence,  smile,  and 
word  to  show  her  helpl 
melt  and  move  them,'' 

After  this  transfer  there 
of   rest     From  the^K^jt,! 
27th    of    May,    1804,    Mii 
wrote,  — 

**  Havmg  a  moment  of  leisjl 
change  of  bjife,  I  am  jrlad  to  ii 
have  cbcerinfT  news,  but  do  <lctj 

**I  suppose  you   at  home  1 

than  we,  who  are  >o  neur ;  just 

was  a  UttJtt  girb  I  couM  never 

TX«^   Qtv   vb«    map,    the    Itiitf 

large,    'S«tr\'^^\^  fcoScwcws,^ 


Hd&fi  L.  Gilson. 


565 


spetiks:  it  is  said  In  reeemble 
I  face;  but  the  ignarani  pe*»- 
g^tlMsrifi;*  bnifihwood  fmm  the 
HiigWt  iitClft  dreamiog  of  the 
b  dlsuoce  bnnga  out. 
pH  we  weot  on  diore.  Sticb 
,*i  such  roses  I  Ilow  I  wUh 
>cen  witii  us  to  enjoy  them !  I 
bashes  Udca  with  btossomt  of 
ite  LuxemlMJurg  rose.  Now  I 
a  bunch  of  budf  ;  and  they  do 
gr*7u  know  what  I  mean  when  I 
Tbeir  fsarXj  make  me  cry»  with 
of  borne.  Dear  bnd^  t  they 
living  tilings ;  ,  .  and  though 
tbey  are  like  a  harbinger  of  the 
and  beauty  of  the  im- 
So  even  here  we  buTe  some- 
r  us.  .  .  , 
you  could  Icjok  out  on  this  scene : 
lay  it  15  truly  Veaetinn ;  at  any 
^  "I  beyond   desortption. 

mil  their  li^hc«^  and 
tlon^  on  the  water ;  the  quaint 
a  with  stores ;   steamers  cov- 
floldiers  ;  rafts  with  their  car- 
les,—  ail  with  a  background 
foliage,  with  charcb-sptres  and 
ling  out  from  the  masses 
—  all  thb  does  indeed  Ibrm 
» picture-" 

^iUoci'ft  love  of  nature,  and 
ppcebension  of  it*  grandeur 
ly,  nerer  deserted  her.  She 
iatiset  skies  and  winter 
le  sduntl  of  waters  and  the 
pi  flowera,  with  a  keen  and 
meatnesji ;  and  her  sen^  of 
,  both  in  lights  and  sounds  was 
miniater  to  the  comfort  and 
^  many  &  feeble  sufferer 
eb  intiueaeea  were  still  po* 
Bich. 

t   arnaj    Bwept   on    throuj^b 

tl*e    negroes^    by   instincty 

to  the  banks  of  the  ri^era. 

I     plantations^    their 

r  serFitude,  dressed 

ffeotivitlf  and  each  with  bis 

aniy  property,  they  made 

If)  comp&n/  through    the 


desert,  like  the  children  of  I:$raeU 
coming  out,  as  they  thought,  into  tlie 
promised  land.  As  we  passed  down 
the  Kuppahannock,  and  op  the  York 
and  Pamunky  RirerSj  &quads  of  fami- 
lies could  be  seen  for  mites  along  its 
banks,  making  their  way,  they  knew 
not  wbitber,  but  hoping  for  escape. 
As  our  steamer  sped  raprdJy  along, 
the  poor  creatures  would  beg  by 
every  gesture  of  appeal ;  holding 
their  bundles,  up,  raising  their  hands 
as  if  imploring  sympathy,  and  calling 
on  us  not  to  pass  them  by.  •  At  Port 
Royal,  on  the  Kappahannock,  they 
flocked  down  in  such  numbers  that  a 
government  barge  was  appropriated 
for  their  use.  A  thousand  were 
stowed  upon  her  decks,  —  negroes  of 
all  ages,  helpless  children,  and  old  men 
and  women^  all  seeking  to  be  free.  .  • 
Freedom  was  to  them  an  idea :  they 
did  not  know  that  it  meant  opportu- 
nity, hardship,  and  privation  ;  they 
did  not  dream  of  education,  develop- 
ment, responsibility*  They  only 
knew  that  it  was  freedom  ;  and  that 
in  breaking  their  old  relation,  there 
would  be  no  more  auction- blocks,  and 
no  more  cruelty. 

From  the  notes  made  at  this  time 
by  one  of  the  party,  we  give  the  fol- 
lowing description :  — 

**  Our  steamer  was  anchored  in  the 
riven  A  hundred  vessels  were  there, 
waiting  orders  to  move,  Ni^ht  came  on. 
There  were  gleaming  ^ij^nals  all  about  us, 
and  a  thousand  colored  lights  were  re- 
flected in  the  water.  In  the  distance  we 
could  bear,  low  and  soft,  the  first  notes  of 
the  negroes*  evenin-^  hymn.  Impassioned 
and  plaintive  it  came  on,  increasing  in 
volume,  until  the  whole  chorus  broke  out 
into  one  of  those  iodescnbiibly  wild»  fer^ 
vid  melodies,  of  which  it  h  impossible  to 
rei^iitt  the  impression,  until  it  melted  away 
into  the  sublued  moaningn  of  a  tew  who 
were  charged  with  the  reftiivti.  Ovit  WjiaJl 
was  soon  lowered,  and  ^U^d  w\\k  ^"^  ^a.^« 


Helen  Z.  Gilson. 


567 


0  were  working  there  the 
death.     The  next  day  tiie 

were    brought     in,     eight 
in  all. 
7th  of  June,  Miss   Gllson 

VTiite  Housie  i?  a  tn*ni«'ntluiiii 

are  workinij  ni«^ht   aii.l   liav. 

hink  of  proparin^j  tiir  a  ni-jlit'si 

ambulance-trains  arrive  loaiieil 

p«-n>r.  sutiTerin-^  men.  htilpless 

u  the  deail  ajnonn  the   livin-j. 

M>rtation  over  fiiriHin  miles  ol 

in  army-wa.:ona  L*  wr)rs«  tlian 

say.  .  .  .  We  ni;ike  twenty  or 

^ns  of  milk   punch  a:  a  time, 

15c*   c:d<iroQd    of    soup.      Bui 

en.L" 

1  June  the  armr  of  rhe 
-T^Sacni  tlie  Jaan»."».  T]ie 
•rampment  at  White  fiju-e 
n  up.  the  e<juipa3'f  rra:i."-- 
steamers,  whii;ii  went  uv- 
ove  up  towanls  Cirv  P-iin-. 

to   be  tiie   li.Tal    -jose    -.f 

against    P.rrer.rburi    a;.  I 

fJet'^re    riie    ar'ir.-    l.aii 

r-^i-irion.-*  i.i  :r /Lr  .jT"  P-- 

Lr.  Fay.  ^L.-s  <>:!.'*<;n.  a.;:  .   i 

th-r  Aaiiliary  '.  .rry-  -.c  :..- 

■^rmi:.- .•:■'/[:.  :.\'\  or '-.-•-«;  :* -r- 

ri:!zi  si;;:;:  ,i  z'..-*  ;-.-r*r  ..-  - 

aac   -y.ry.  as-ii   t;t..    -:,:■•--! 

i-ieti'.'s  wr:r«i    r'T^-r.-ir:.- J    :'.r 

iioriIij«!t    ^'j    i^'jtjZk    ''J    I-;--,  v. 

J  waj-.-rLi  :i.i.i  r.*.:  .irr.-'-r-. 

i-"?  w';,-^  T'rr^  ■-;••-.■**'  L  J'  .;. 
i^:^-   -f  ba-K-.  ^    :  .  j  -  .  .r 

yat  die  baarJti  n.j*5i;  d-r-.tjir. 


inz  durin'^  the  war :  and  thLs  morning  at 
five,  artillery  and  muftkutrv  a'^aln.  We 
.in.*  •iuly  a  mile  and  a  half  trom  the  battle 
line,  and  rtmUl  see  the  hhelld  bunt  from 
ilie  bni\T  'A  the  hill:  but  our  wounded 
::iv..'  no  time  to  witness  the  battle.  I  feel 
'f^tl  anil  -liiF  t.#-iay :  bending  down  and 
dn'>!iiu^  woundii  on  the  d;unp  ground 
iuak';n  :ne  »/nL 

'*  It  Im  a  lovely  m(i4mli:;ht  ni;:ht,  but 
iHjauty  anii  horrrjr  :irt:  lienj  dtranjr«:ly  niin- 
2ie«l.  I  rum  tr-iai  tiiu  M-Miut  tor  a  mo- 
ment, 'tt  rlitt  <jiii«i  beauty  of  your  wi>i>«l- 
bined  iii>:Re.  f  re:iil  a-^ain  your  letter, 
:uid  am  •.vith  you  in  tiie  lii>rary,  enjoyin;^ 
.It  rile  w*jtem  window  rJie  li'jiit  of  fadin'^ 
day.  I  :i-id  the  fnjsii  breezi!  of  evenin'.j 
piayinir  throu'^h  the  nihtiin^r  vine-leaver; 
and  UjV  a  .itiie  time  I  ran  liii-get  war,  and 
a*!  ita  li^anUi  iurr  fundings." 

For  riinte  day<  the  battle  raf^<Ml  in 
fmn':  'ji  P.;ter-iiurx  leaving  upon  our 
i:a^•L^  mnnr  •h.iu?'and  wounded  men. 
T!i*r  ';f/ior«'ti  .jivi-ion  of  the  N'inth 
<.".irpH  W.L4  ii-r*;  li.-rt  brought  inti  a»:- 
•:jon.  a;.d  uiTAr'vli  w«*r»»  left  upon  tlnf 
ri'ri'L  Tliev  A'".Y".  riCMUgiit  down  to. 
^-  ^■.'  V'*'.:r.  *':i<rr'i  a  *''riiii*«>r:iry  ho^pi- 
M*  h.w:  ■;•-•-::  f.i'ovid -d.  ft  w:i;*,  bow- 
-v-r.  :.  :.♦/  A.;-r  -ei:»e  .i  lioijiir.al  than 
*..*■:  *  V  i.-i  i 'i«-|>^t  'of  rvotiiid'rfl  men. 
^  .."r-'f  Vi.-  :4r..r'.*-v  •  ruan  ir/'-ijient  and 
■...^,*.'-  ;:.'..'i.-.ori.  Tb<;  men  Wfp' 
r--_'.T':r.-...  :•:•;  Ij-/-  ,.-.iI  organization 
"vij.  ,;■.;;•- rrV:-.  :i,:.  i  t,,,.-  !/iopr;iiiry  wa.-*, 
'::>:..'.-. j  ..;..;!-.  ffi'^iitfiiliy  large. 
r.'r.r  :•>:.•:: -..oi  w;t-  horrible.  The 
•!TV.Tnr-.-  ■;'■  •:.-  ■:;i.jio:i.'j'i.  in  a  mabk- 
r:  :.-  ■ : '-  .  r.  t ;.'.  : .  .i^  1  ;  i  r o r ^ rared  rn a n y 
*."..  :*r  -.-- :  1*.  i  •"•.'T'#.-oid,  i.i  i«4  mti»t 
.v-A.  J",  i..:  :  r.w..  Wi.-  ra^'a^r  wLiii  ia- 


:  1' .-.-'^   -•orir-s  of   -suf-ring  fra^riied 

r    M---  '-'    -   ;   'i:  -A  Tno:ii'::iz  wben  die 

.     7  -r       .-  .A  /•.tt  o:  tiiT  •:arapa;g'i   Jia-l 

:'     :.-^xT  -    -:.,j,  ^'.'.'zi   \x-.r   -tr^:::r-«i:    out 

t    --."    . .""  -•r'r-:-.  r-:   '/a,:-.     Tji»?r^  w»r^ 

:^.  "     -r.'^Tr?  I'.-r  :h^  em-frz*?"-.'/.  and 

■  -  r-; -.fcr^ri:  :j  jr^j..     Her  iri-nd-*  d*?- 

7^-:  :1a:  -L-:   it-^ili  i**jx.  a'arfv;**  r-\ 


Melen  L.  GUson. 


but,  repl/iiig  ibM  blie  codld  oot  di^ 
in  a  aiose  more  8»cre<!,  &be  stskrted 
oot  aIohc.  a  hosptUl  hml  to  be 
creiite*!;  arnl  tliU  re«|airc«i  all  the 
Uiet,^/»«ju^y  and  dipluotacy  of  wbich 
a  wonuui  i^  capable*  O&i^al  prvju- 
r^«dice  ^nd  pTohnAionol  pride  bud  to  be 
met  aod  orereoine*  A  D6«r  p'lUcjr 
bad  to  be  introduced,  and  it  bad  lo 
be  done  witbout  seemtDg  to  interfere. 
l£cr  dcxttiue  aod  practice  always 
were  m^taotf  silent^  iiixd  cbeeriul  obe» 
dietice  to  medical  lu  imaryor^ 

ders,  liriihoiit  anj  m  i>ii  what- 

ever; and  by  tbis  sbe  overi'ume  tb« 
natural  sensitivetiess  of  tbe  medical 
aatborities. 

A  bospital  kttcben  lia^i  to  be  or- 
ganized upon  ber  metbo^l  of  special 
diet;  narses  bad  to  learn  ber  way, 
and  be  educated  to  their  duties: 
while  cleanUnea^,  order,  and  system 
bad  to  be  enforced  in  tbe  daily  rou- 
tine. Moving  quietly  on  with  her 
work  of  renovation,  she  took  the  re* 
sponsibility  of  all  cbanj^eii  that  be- 
came necessary;  and  such  harmony 
prevailed  in  tbe  camp,  that  her  [»olicy 
was  vindicated  as  time  rolled  on. 
Tbo  rate  of  mortality  wa*  lea^sened, 
and  the  hospital  wats  soon  considered 
tbe  best  in  the  department. 

The  management  of  her  kitchen 
was  like  tbe  ticking  of  a  cl*x*k ;  reg- 
ular di^ipline^  gentle  firmness,  and 
^weet  temper,  always  The  diet  of 
tbe  men  was  changed  three  times  a 
day,  and  it  was  ber  aim  to  cater  as 
far  as  possible  to  the  appetites  of  in* 
dividual  men.  At  one  iimo  nine 
bnndred  men  were  supplie^l  from  ber 
kitchen;  ber  daily  ri>und3  in  the 
war*!!}  brought  her  into  pers^onal  in- 
tercourse with  every  patient,  and  ebe 
knew  bi»  need. 

The  following  passage,  from  tbe 
pen  of  Harriet  Martineati,  in  regarti 
talbe  maQagement  oi  lVe\d\A\\eu  uV 


Scntarit  by  FloKoce  Hig 
true  abo  of  those  organtiad  bfl 
GtUon  in  Virginia.     Tbe 
so  clo^e,  and   ibe  Qlastritmj 
daily  a»^lmini«tiatloQ  of 
meat  of  ber  wock  was  m 
if  tbe  ctrettoistaoces  imdrr 
was  written  wer*  vn^  tt  i 

hare  been  con&i  > 
our  kitcben  ia  tbe  ooiond 
City  Paint:  — 

"Tbe  very  idea  of  that  kitckij 
lavory  in  the  wardj;  ibr  ooi  of  it< 
die  ri^bt  moment,  mrrowrot^  bol  i 
the    pleasaate»t    consi^Cettce ; 
dings  neiiber  bard  oa  tbe  o«iii 
etamtny  on  tbe  oiber;  cool 
tbe  fwen^bt  cans  full  of  bot  tea  i 
wearr,   and  good  coffee    for  tbi 
\llien  the  finking  cofferer  was  Ij'ta^l 
closed  eyes,  too  feeble  to  i&ak«»  um 
tigti«  tbe  hospital  spoon  wa»  put  i 
bi«  Upft^  with  tbe  mouthful  of  »tr 
or  bot  wioe  which   m 
waicbfiil  nurse  came  r 
meat  from  tbac  kitchen  was  t«mieiwi 
any  odier,  and  the  beef-tea  mort 
One  thing  that  came  out  of  It  viSl 
lesson  on  tbe   saving   of  i^ood 
The  mere  ctreumstanee   of   the 
water  being  really  bgiliag  tbere 
difference  of  two  oitaces  of  rice  ia  < 
four  puddin^f^  and  of  mom  tbaa 
arrowroot  used," 

Again,  in  contrasting  tbe 
kitchen  with  the  light  or  special  I 
prepared   for  tbe    sicker   men, 
was  all  the  difiference  between  I 
placed  before  them  '•the  cold  i 
chop   with   its  opaque   fat,   tbe 
with  its  caked  gnkvy^  tbe 
8ti0r    and    gbaed,    tkll    tititoacht 
might  Ikj  seen  by  tbe  htA-  ' 
afternoon*',  while    tbe    p  . 
lyin^  back  sinking  for  want  ^  \ 
port/'   and   seeing    **  the   quick 
quiet  nurses  enter  as  tlie  clock  i 
with  their  hot-water  * 
ready   cat,    bright     k  rk, 

«^«^^^  all  readf  for  inatatit  i 


Selen  L.  Gilson, 


5S9 


and  Ubofed  for  it; 
]/  lo  suggest  m  Tatietj 
of  die   teQtSy   to 
m  most  faoDOKable  tiraltj 
wiiicii  soon  opened  m 
iat  i^a^mymg  mgeauitj 
\l  so  tltrnt  not  only  was  its 
I  the  kigli^sty  bot  it  iras  Ifat 
[]y  pietarasqiie   hospitml 

sgmtxi  and  brieflj  £toin 
Life:^— 


tbaa    a    maft'i 

neii  tinted  tad 

It   T«q«ii^    a 

woaam*9  teoder- 

t*»  defievy  aad  taet ;  it  re* 

oerr^  aad  laoral  force  aad 

>  pcver  at  are  rarelj  niuted 

i*»  dttraeter.    IW  liiapla 

le  BOT«d  abooi  tike 

gcaiis  iB^Bit^  witki 

to  Ika  vffera^  aJl 

lalllKarta.    ^ibeaiMed 

Boldiiaofr 


watched  lad  mintttered  to  iras 
beiv«ea  earth  and  heaveih 
Htm  lo  Biake  aU  thia^  new*  sbe 
hf  gone  tpedal  gr^ee  of  ilia  SpWt 
reach  the  ItHn^  Christ  aoci  draw  a  1^ 
ia^  down  as  tli«  fhinmg  wijf  wai  opea  lO 
tlieCovti.  Aad  I  hav«  ■nsneaoblookaaC 
gralitiado  frooi  weaTj  eyes,  now  bci^A- 
csied  bf  Yvioas  of  bea?ealr  {^tori',  th«  bat 
of  aiany  fieeogntiioos  of  her  taioiJlfT. 
JUmrfaed  ia  her  work,  aoeoaseioat  of  the 
•pifitiMl  beaotj  which  ioTetfed  her  dail jr 
li£% — whether  in  the  ^  tchen,  to  the  haat 
mod  ofgtcrowdiag  iaeideat  to  thv  isvoee 
of  a  Ur;se  tpedal  diet  Kst.  or  «ittiag  at 
the  cot  of  eoBM  poor,  looelj  eoldier,  whia* 
periag  of  the  h^^  raalitke  of  another 
aurld,  the  was  alwaye  the 
of  i^iBee  and  kyre,  of  peact 

I  Im^  hean  la  th«  waide  with  hir» 
the  nen  hire  era«ad  aoaie  «Iai(kla 
wne^  —  the  rr^liD^  uf  Scrip- 
tape»  the  Ma^iaf  of  a  hpnn,  or  the  cffvr^ 
iag  of  a  pcajer.  —  id<1  iof  eimtilr  the  lai^a 
were  ncted  to  tore  l^  Uia  loochiai  iha- 
pUeityofhereioqaeaea.*- 

On  the  20tfa  of  Jane,  Htaa  Gilaon 
wtot«  thiu  of  tba  pgawora  of  her 
work: — 

**  We  h^ve  one  haadred  aad  §artf  caete 
of  typhoid.  We  have  hid  ao  oookiag* 
;  aad  all  oar  graeh^aooipe,  aad  lea  are 
hf  aa  opaa  ira  aadera  hot  eaa. 
Wehatathfaathoaiaad  Ma  la  boqifiy,"* 

/■Me  18.  — **To^7  we  hjifo  a 
III  I  Hi  hi  en.  ip«1l:  afiwih  hnese  ht«  rosa 
to  am  waerj  hadlaiw  For  dan  Iha 
ihnmniiiiTf  hae  heea  ovtr  100^;  aow 
wa  leel  coot  aad  tafiaihed.  Stili  tha 
waaBdedapeheiw;  tfIB  ife  ekk  ootaa  la ; 
fltil  1^  mrmj  m  hi  inat  af  PhiailNBf ; 
mSM  idbef  fie   ia  Ite  dMf  Hwaidiea,  naf 

hee^  afp  their  epioii.  .  *  . 

«>It  m  f  1  tlngaUr,  thiiag 
with jidt iiiliefl tea,   Thei 


i  It  waa  1^  fiat  of  nenrf ▼  aU  of 
^mwr  aadl  the  d^tj^ 
1  hi  eadder  tml4. 


570 


Bden  L.  Gilson. 


of  hospital    teats,   filled   with   sick  and 
wounded  me  a/* 

/u/y  8,  —  It  is  Lot,  an  J  we  are  smoth- 
ered by  Lho  dust.  Tlie  day  has  been  9 
hard  one.  My  men  in  the  kitchen  are 
down  with  fever.  1  have  5tood  all  day 
over  a  ragin«f  «tove  uiakin*^  soups  and 
gruels  for  two  hundred  men ;  then  later, 
tea  for  a  hundred  more,  besidea  the  diet 
for  the  convalescents.  Yet  I  have  laund 
the  time  to  vi^-it  the  wards,  to  road  to  the 
men^  listen  to  complaints,  and  straij-htcn 
out  abuses^  Poor  fellows  I  they  are  lull  of 
tbeir  "  mberies,"  their  Sipccial  term  for  all 
pain-  Tbuy  are  like  ehildi^n  in  one's 
hantls.  These  details  only  show  you  how 
much  there  is  to  do, 

Juif/  12. — "Many  thanks  for  your 
supplies.  They  have  he<?n  f*ert?onally  dis- 
tributed, Mr.  Hajifiard*fi  Ik>x  could  not 
be  excelled,  either  in  the  quality  or  llie 
packiu'^  of  the  ariiclcs.  Many  of  our 
friends  have  fainted  at  their  postj?,  and 
Iiavt*  been  sent  home  wiih  lyphoiil  fever. 
But  so  Jar  1  seem  to  keep  my  strength." 

Oil  the  12th  of  August,  Miss  Gil- 
son  wrote,— 

*'  You  gay  I  am  j^ettini;  familiar  with 
death.  Yes :  but  de:ith  wears  its  most 
Bolemn  a?ipect  when  it  touches  our  indi- 
vidual lives.  Sometimes  it  makes  terri- 
ble voi<lt=  ill  our  hearts.  I  »^oaned  a!oud 
last  iii^iht,  so  heavy  was  ray  hef*rt,  when 
1  knew  1  i^hoidii  not  a^ain  see  Mrs.  Bar- 
low.* 

The  year  of  this  hospital  service  at 
City  Point  wore  on.  The  winter  of 
1864-6')  came,  and  found  a  noble 
hospital  ilepartment  organized  and 
sustained  by  the  genius  of  tluit  model 
medical  director,  Br.  Kdwanl  B.  Pul- 
ton, With  every  facility  furufshed 
bj  a  jnagiiificeDt  army  base,  he  so 
iidjuated  the  complicated  machinery 
of  hospital  adniiuistration,  as  to  leave 
his  mark  upon  the  field -hospital  sys- 
tem, which  in  the  previous  history 
of  the  war  had  never  been  brought 
to    such    perfection.     During     these 

»  Mrt,  Ocu,  Biirlow,  one  of  Mi««  Gfl'ton'A 
party,  wlio  (llc<l  rroui  \he  «x\vutuirfes  ot  vViia  t^tosV- 
oi»  cattif»nign. 


ef  or  a 
:e  nottdH 

uddMH 


months  of  compardttre  luactii 
the  army  was  lyinii'  iq  its 
front  of  Pe;  the 

quietly  and  *^'  i;  on- 

dents  from  Mis^  GlUon*^ 
till  a  volume.     Kreu  the  mt 
ing  of  them  we    have   no 
here. 

As  the  spring  of  18C5  t>] 
wrote,  — 

.  "  I  am  tired,  tired,  chronii'i 
Tired  to  the  very  marrow  of  1 
La^t  night  I  tried  to  answer  y< 
but  dropped  asleep,  pen  in  hnii 
evenlnjjf,  fj^oiu  the  sjiecial  die*,  1 
divii^ions  of  tlie  hospital*  £.ich 
catered  for  separately.  Each  lU 
to  decide  how  nmeh  t»<*ef  or 
needed ;  onier  it,  wa^rte 
the  pieces  of  bread  for  pud' 
at  the  same  time  the  adap 
ry  in  all  the  eases  ari*iu^ 
hospital,  keeping  a  wholesome' 
ant  atmosphere*  —  make  tUo  l^rsl 
as  rhe  hand  wc^ry, 

March   U,    l^Co,  —  Theri»  m 
in  our  phy««ieal  and  mental  dci 
when  we  think  much,  not  about, 
ourstrlves.     We  need  the^M* 
we  are  learning  to  live.     AfWr 
unconi^cious  growth  s^oes  on; 
eye  evt^r  raised  lo  Christ,  our  [lai 
to  heaveUt  our  home^  we  1o.h?  oua 
the  atr^vinin^;  and  are  hanlly 
of  individual  life,  which  is  swal! 
in  doin«T  um]  living;  for  olberv    J 
out>iite  hfe^  eomej»  inmard 
rest ;  which  is  more  thAn  tx^W 
weary  soul.     Intense  joy,  iuien» 
we»rs  the  soul;  hut  for  thi*  fn 
comes    from     looking     Clifhav! 
heavenwanl*  let  us  fteok/* 

lyth,  — **  You  sfioke  of 
ness.     I  have  always  b«  *: 
liii»t  Sunday  I  was  lliinki 
ularh't  as  iho  dav  of  your  inuti^, 
^real  eomrort  lo  believe  in  Ui« 
prt'fi'oee  uf  tliose  we   lore, 
world  or  the  otlier.  vriieti 
¥\rk    nnrl    bean-sick  hc^rc 
&rdl«  in  the  neam«£$ic  and 


Hdm  L.  Gili 


571 


ip  OI 

[  wuk  I  couid  hear  die  robos  or 
[i§4>iid:  it  ii  J9  kmei$  vxckDOK 

St  campaign  of  the  armj  of 
>mac  was  entered  upon  with 
April  On  the  2d  of  that 
he  arm  J  broke  throagh  the 
id  entered  Petersburg,  and 
Gren.  Lee's  retreating  forces 
mattox  Coart'HoQse,  where 
f  capitnlatioQ  were  agreed 
d  the  war  was  dosed. 
ospital  department  at  Citv 
as  ere  long  closed,  and  the 
s  soon  marching  baL-k  on  its 
In  Hay,  Miss  Gilson  made 
ters  in  Richmond  at  a  hospi- 
'amp  Lee,  where  she  closed 
r  work,  returning  home  dur- 
sammer  in  impaired  health, 
a  year  or  two  with  sofferiug 
ie    entered    upon    her    rest 

r  last  birthday,  she  wrote,  — 

has  been  long  to  me,  but  God 
me  the  sanshine  of  sweet,  dear 
n.  I  thank  him  for  the  joy  and 
w.  I  lore  homanity,  the  world. 
It  to  lire  that  I  may  serre  and 
throagh  my  work.** 

thinking   of  the    end,   she 

I  reading  for  my  comfort  to-day 
barth  chapter  of  Isaiah.  It  is 
and  I  hare  taken  to  my  heart 
t  promise,  *  For  a  small  moment 
^saken  thee,  but  with  great  mer- 
gather  thee.'     I  will  trusL** 

s  the  last  record  we  possess 
pen  of  Helen  Gilson.  Her 
\  sweet  and  peaceful,  as  be- 
!  evening  of  such  ,a  day.  She 
J 3  said,  "  Do  not  try  to  pro- 
life  when  the  time  has  como 
die."  True  to  this  feeling, 
e  hour  came,  she  put  her 
Km    her  forehead^  felt    the 


daap.  and  said  giIbIt,  **  This  is 
death.  The  door  is  open,  let  m«  go."'* 
An-i  the  aiL^Is  bore  her  to  her 
r  xrher's  home. 

From  the  many  tributes  of  love 
and  scoiow  thai  the  tidings  of  her 
death  called  focth,  we  teWt  a  few 
pas^cages.  written  by  those  who  had 
known  and  felt  the  value  of  the  sei^ 
vices  they  commemorate. 

-  What  an  angel  of  God's  mercy  she 
was!  By  what  ministries  of  heart  and 
hand,  by  what  tireless  offices  of  a  love 
that  most  have  been  learned  at  the  feec 
of  Jesns,  did  she  bless  those  who  were  so 
tavored  as  to  be  where  she  passed  by  1 

**  My  memories  of  hrr  are  all » intimate- 
ly associated  with  her  exhausting  labors 
amid  scenes  of  suffering,  with  a  fiMe  full 
of  anxiety  and  eare.  yet  always  cheer- 
ful, with  a  step  weary,  yet  ever  willing, 
that  it  is  pleasant  to  think  of  her  now 
as  having  entered  into  the  heavenly  rest." 

Rev.  W.  H.  Channing  gives  the 
following  reminiscence :  — 

^I  first  saw  her  standing  at  an  open 
tent  door,  with  two  large  tin  vessels  of 
farina  and   soup    betbre    her,   supplying 
nurses  who  were  carrj'ing  refreshments  to 
the  wounded,  after  the  first  disastrous  de- 
feat  at   FrvJericksburg.     Never   have   I 
fonotten,  and  never  shall  I  forget,  the 
li-^ht  of  her  eyes,  and  her   smile,  when, 
lo«>kin^  up,  she  gladly  greeted  me    as   a  ^ 
fellow-heljK^r ;   that  glance,  and  her  fir^r 
words,  revealed  to  me  her  generous,  <!' 
vote<i  heart.  .  .  Three  times  we  met  \*J^^ 
common  service  on  the  field   of  battF^^**^ 
sind  each  time  ^he  grew  brighter  and  1 
ter   to  my  vision.     Early  in   the  hUbout 
bitter   Det^*mber   mornings,   late   in  Ig  on 
sultn-    May     evenings,     amidst     I>elt\u{il 
thunder-storms,  or  under  scorehing  n<K)t^,) 
day    suns,  under    every    trying    eireuni-'j 
stance   of   fatigue    or   exposure,  she  was^^ 
always  calm,  cheerful,  and  Imive  ;  abound- 
ing in  resources,  exhaiLHtless  in  8yni|)athy  ; 
tenderly  anxious  to  comtbrt  the  wounileil 
and  sick;  saintly  in  counsel  ami  prayer 
for  the  dying-,    earnest  \o  t^cvivs'*^  *s\\ 


572 


**  Where  Earth  and  Heaven  MeeL^ 


convey  the  last  messages  and  tokens  to 
frieuib  faraway, 

Pliat  radiance  of  womanrv  sweetness 
ead  around  her  by  liur  prei»ence, 

tie  music  of  her  voices  her  ^acious  love- 
liness I  How  raised  above  all  frivolous 
folly  she  Feemed,  by  earnest  ^Iraightfor- 
wardress,  transparent  sincerity,  and  cora- 
mandinjj  conscienee  I  Ft  was  most  notice- 
►le  how  Kildiera  and  oiBcers,  nurses  and 
r^eoos,  grew  court^us,  affable,  gentle^ 

efined,  under  her  charm.  Utterly  un- 
conscions  of  ber  own  attractive  beanty, 
she  moved  to  and  fro,  clad  in  a  ^pottcss 
robe  of  innocence,  like  a  little  child  or  a 
guardiuii  spirit.  An  itifluenec  wont  out 
thriau;^h  look,  manner,  gesture,  benijto, 
caJm.  purity  in  jf,  till,  unaware  almostj  the 
rou;Th  were  softened,  and  the  coarse  made 
cleiiii,  and  il^e  brjive  and  manly  quick- 
ened to  finer  heroism  by  reverence  fur 
noble  woinaohootL  And  what  sagacity, 
good  ftCDBe,  wisdom,  marked   the  action 


and  speech  of  thti  8eetiit»gt| 
and  inexperienced  cotmtrj 
marvelled  at  her  well-ordert^ 
ments,  her  forethoui^hty  pii3m| 
tion»  skill,  deftness,  tact,  Vi\ 
she  gained  this  shrewd  di»cv| 
character ;  this  power  of  mana| 
by  honest  direcChess  of  sp^ei-h 
ing;  this  presence  of  mind  Iti 
cies ;  this  energy  to  ttjni  ctiI 
and  make  the  best  of  aU  condii 
^'  Do  you  remember  that  Sul 
ing  In  the  gloaming,  when  she  | 
hi^r  attendant,  on  horseback*  to 
House  Hospital  on  the  Plains,  \ 
recjucst,  sUiuding  at  the  head  of; 
Fang  hymn  after  hymn  to 
wounded  fellows  ?  They  said 
the  voices  of  an;|els.  Ay  I 
She  stands  for  \X9  now  at  the  hi 
golden  stairway  to  the  hean 
the  voice  is  ever,  *  Nearer^ 
theo ;  Nearer  to  thee/  *• 


**WHEIIE  EARTH  AND  HEAVEN   MEET,** 

Whetheh  between  lie  meadows  green, 

Where  sun  and  i^hadovv  play; 
Or  silent  snow-fields  intervene, 

With  trees  of  leafless  gray; 
Or  stately  hills  send  down  supplies 

To  blue  lakes  at  tbeir  feet, — 
Beyond  tlicm  all,  I  seek  the  line 

Where  earth  and  heaven  meet 


11 

iio? 

8tlS 

mec 

toTh 

by  I 

udjr 

of' 

I 


'Tis  there  the  fleecy  clouds  cooie  forth 

To  sail  upon  the  shy ; 
And  there  the  summer  showew  arise 

When  all  the  fields  are  dry ; 
And  thence  into  my  thirsty  heart 

Come  thoughts  both  sad  and  sweet, 
When  gazing  on  that  distant  line 

Where  earth  and  heaven  meet 

Sometimes  remote  it  seems,  and  dinii 
Through  earthly  mists  that  rise; 

Again,  diiitinct  and  clear  it  stands 
Before  my  b>nging  eyes. 

0  face  beloved  I  cannot  see  I 
0  lips  I  may  not  greet  I 

•*£vU  L\Ws  \\iit\iAitv  luve  I  Teach, 


Six  of  One  6y  Malf  a  Dozen  of  The  Other. 


573 


SIX  OF  OXE 


BT 


HALF  A  DOZEN  OF  THE  OTHEB,* 


CBAPTEB  XTIL 

rBTE^H  Dat  came  in  Lent 

*\    aod    soon     after    Easter 

lies  establishment  was  broken 

tommer  wanderings.  Jane 

y  few  weeks  to  Grey  ford,  but 

ad  the  summer  with  her 

Newport^ 

hat  she  had  just  missed 

cbel  Hoi  ley  and  Horace,  in 

3Ir-   HoUey   lia:i    taken 

ray  with  him  "out  West" 

bow,  since  his  wife  is  dead/' 

I  Burgessy  Jane's  aunt,  "  Mr. 

'  can't  seem   to  settle  down  to 

ig  at   home.      He   has   gone 

ting  a  little.     He  did  talk 

II>eQr6r  City  and  St.   Paul's ; 

ffiHouldn't  wonder  if  he  settled 

before    be  .  got  there,      Mre» 

fa  relations  are  all  in  Chicago, 

Worboise  has  raovod    out 

\  suppose  you  heard/* 

h#ard,  too^  that  Dr.  Sylra  and 

joined  the  Holleys,  just    for 

ey,  and  nobody  knew  when 

I  woald  be  back. 

tonl  seemed  !  Jane 
[op  n  its  bniafl  streets, 

^eir  huge  elms  shading  it  on 
Flide  ;  and,  in  the  late  afternoon, 
.teemed  to  see  the  same  cows 
home  that  she  useil  to 
rben  she  was  a  child.  They 
liy  into  Deacon  Spinley'a  side 
as  they  used  to^  and  were 
out    with     the     same    con* 

r  If  irrnf«9  In  oo-pftrtnornhlp.  by  )U«a 

,  «f».  WhUQ*?j,  Mr.  F.  W.  Lor- 

I  Jffr.  R»le.    Each  partner  1« 

_^  Uj  tv4poo4iblc  for  all  tlte 

0|rtali>a»,  aad  mXMAtmentM  of  «il  die 


tumely,  as  it  seemed,  by  the  same 
boy. 

One  day,  while  she  was  with  her 
auntj  she  opened  a  little  cupboard 
that  was  set  into  the  side  of  the  old- 
fiishioned  chimney  of  the  sitting- 
room,  to  put  away  into  it  some  of  the 
things  she  was  tired  of  seeing  on  the 
mantle-piece.  She  was  surprised  to 
find  standing  in  fent  of  one  of  the 
shelves,  looking  at  her,  a  little  bear  of 
carved  wood,  which  she  had  never 
seen  before.  She  took  it  out  to  look 
at  it,  when  Miss  Burgess  exclaimed, 
"  There,  Jane,  I  almost  forgot  to  give 
it  to  you.  Horace  Vanzandt  left  it 
for  yoo,  to  sliow  you  he  had  improved 
in  carving  since  the  old  days.  Ho 
put  it  op  on  the  mantle-shelf;  but, 
seeing  it  was  getting  dusty,  I  set  it 
away  in  the  cupboard,  and  clean  for- 
got it." 

It  was  in  very  old,  childish  days 
that  the  Vanzandts  lived  next  door 
to  the  Burgesses.  Horace  had  a 
special  gift  at  whittling*  and  used  to 
make  dolls'  chairs  and  tables  for  Jane, 
that  she  kept  in  her  baby-house  as 
loDg  as  they  would  stand.  The  little 
Jane  valued  them,  though  the  legs 
were  rickety ;  and  they  were  the  pride 
of  her  establishment 

One  day,  when  Horace  was  about 
six  years  old,  he  was  found  crying  on 
the  door-step.  Tears  were  unusual 
with  this  ambitious  youth.  Jano 
tried  to  find  out  t lie  trouble.  He  hold 
up  a  bit  of  wood  in  his  hand,  sayings 
*'  I  tried  to  make  it  a  bear,  and  it  will 
be  a  pig»" 

This  was  a  tragic  event  in  child- 
fa  ood^  but  had  beeu  t\\Q  %o\3^x^^  ol  ^>x 


574         Six  of  One  by  Half  a  Dozen  of  the  Other. 


iniinite  numbor  uf  jokes  afterwanlB  j 
Horace  insisting  that  liia  bearji^  iu 
after  life,  turned  out  nothing  but 
pigs. 

<*He  want«  to  »how  me  tliat  lie 
can  make  a  boar/'  said  Jano^  as  she 
took  it  up  stairs  with  her.  This  was 
on  one  of  her  last  daja  of  packing, 
and  she  di'l  the  hear  np  in  tissue- 
paper,  and  put  it  in  one  of  the  sacred- 
est  tray-^  of  her  trunk.  She  liad  a 
letter  from  Mark  in  the  afternoon ; 
and  when  she  went  back  to  her  room 
she  unpacked  all  her  things,  took  the 
hear  out,  and  set  it  up  on  the  mantle- 
piece, 

"  I  may  as  well  lea  re  it  with  the  rest 
of  my  thingV'  s^ie  s^i*!- 

The  next  morning  she  went  away. 
She  lookf^d  round  her  room  bef^ire  3*ho 
left,  with  her  travidling-ba-^  In  her 
band.  Tlie  little  bear  sat  up  on  his 
hind  legs^  and  looked  at  her*  She  saw 
the  little  hear,  took  it,  and  plunged  it 
into  the  top  of  her  bag. 

Sophy  went  op  stairs  with  Jane  to 
her  room,  after  she  reached  Nfewport, 
and  was  present  when  Jane  opened 
her  bag,  to  t^ike  out  some  of  her 
things,  "What  a  dear  little  bear!*' 
exclaimed  Sophy,  when  it  appeared. 
"  It  ii*  just  the  thing  to  set  on  the  top 
of  your  little  clock.  I  had  a  plan  for 
a  cuckoo-clock  for  your  room*  but 
Ked  thought  you  would  not  like  tlie 
noiae.  And  perhaps  it  is  best  not  to 
have  two  in  the  house.  And  he 
found  this  pretty  little  carved  thing 
for  the  mantle-piece.  And  just  what 
it  needs  is  this  little  bear." 

Jane's  summer  pasi^ed  on  quietly. 
Its  peace  almost  terrified  her.  It 
made  her  think  of  one  of  those  oloud- 
lesa  summer  days  that  are  called 
**  weather-breeders/*  and  she  had  a 
vague  dread  of  a  storm  collecting  be- 
hind the  horizon. 

She  had  the  most  eharmm^V^Ufc^ 


ab 


from   Mark,   full  of  tend' 
eloquence  and  poetry.    She  lib 
read  them  over  and  cnrer.    MUg 
ha<l  been  especially  tnov***!  T 
these  lett'^r*,  she  would    i 
Hora<ie^a  little  bear  from  tijc  i^ 
the  clock,  and  set  it  a^de.   Rot  J 
the  housemaid^  had  ao  uawonuj 
for  symmetry,  and  always  fouodil 
and  put  it  back  agaiu« 

'•Of  eounio  it's  avhsurd/ 
to  herself,  "to  make  any  ti 
such  a  little  thing.  Bat  I 
Horace  meant  any  tliiug  u 
fun,  and  to  show  me  tlui 
improved  iu  cttrving.  Y*t 
me  thinking  of  him;  and  I  moI 
tho  right  of  it,  that  all  ilaik'shi 
ahould  not  keep  him  in  my  ui^ 
much  »is  the  sight  of  that  littU  H 
malics  Horace  ill  ways  i 

As  for  Mark,  ho  UUl  . 
would  be  hard  to  find 
yonng  man,  whetbcr  h<i ' 
^lark,  inventor  liko  flnr 
eiul,   driving,  eir' 
tliingi^thpough  lii 
like  Chicago  in  those  dayg,  at  1 
lie  had  seen  the  fully  of  it 
fir^^t  place,  Chicago   wax  ai 
old     friend,    Dr.  Sylra  wa« 
say^  a  central  ganglion  of  tbit  ] 
nervous-system, —  the  lifo  of  1 
found    its   centimes  Uicre: 
Hum  fry,    on     the     other 
table,    would   laugh,    and  fSk} 
means   it   is  a  relay  titacioo 
wir«*s/'  which  was  suisstaatij 
the  Dm: tor  did  mean.    Ev 
in  a  hurry;  everybody  k 
and  wjis  w3  perfectly  sure  ( 
that  he  discountt-^d  it  at  ^ 
of  inter««t.     Mark  did  not  H 
a  great  nian\ 
Johnsonian    i 

all  the  better  iot  tine    iibr 
^ave  him  more  time  to  write  1 


.  The^ 


5lJr  0''  O  :    '• '    ^:  - 


i  he    w..in- i    :     ■  -    .-    z  J  -  "^ 

mid  =?!..:•  r;r.i  ^.-    :ir    '~.  .:  •  ■       ■ 

ik  yv»-r  :r.-.    ..-:  r-a-    ••  ,-  •  _. 

I bea-i:iful  '..-<•->.-:_-:.  -•      :-    .    .- 

ioa$  «ji*  ■•  i  a*"    J--    ,    -      -   -: 

Be  of  ::»•*  !.  -  V  il   J   .  _  :  -  .  .    .      -- 

len,   i'jn>r;:.^    :..-.     _   r-—    .-. 

nkl    i^r..*s    •;.-       :   ..-      V    . --.-  . 

»i  .St- •[•;■;:.  J  -..-:_.•-..-• 

»,a«tiic  fr..-".- v.- -:^.  ,    -•.-.. 

MrlhKit-i  or  -  '   •  :.->   *    :     .      ■  1       ■ 

iwbri.lvr.-s    ••?    -.--...-_-   -        --  -" 

»irde.l  5.tr.-:in.     M  .■-:.-;-_-     -  .     . 

Iinswi::!  ;?  ..'i-    .;    :--..-  .-    ■ 

we  w._-ll  ...-It  ..-.  :   T  -r.r       ^.     -     -•  ... 

Bd  to  say.  r-n  -^-  t  *:  .  1-      ',     •       -:-    -.         •  .    - 

J  did  not  •li-i:!;  •  :..-    ;- .  .:    :..--:  -  - 

Wiinj.      In    :!..'    '.Vir-i-.-:    A   j  -:     :.  •■       I       - 

•ning:*    Ijy    or\:i:  -    h  .  n-    ^r  ..         .-    ::         r  -  "• 

ited  wirh    hjsn*./.:'.   rr.  i    i-  .,:     j. 

■t if  vol  -111  n-jt  w.i'.!^  :\«-.  :'..:.-■        -■        -     _ 

Unot  n»»:ir..-<-iv»'.     T  .  -  ::i-.i-.:.  •  -    :"•.  ---.-.• 

f i.irtri»r-t.i'l.  tha:  a-j  !:- '.V,  :>  1     -     .    .    .      .  .   .    - 

H  |)<?vri   Iklo-kinj  o;i*  :i  :.;-.v  :.  v  ..    -       .":--'  ■      - 

rti]>r>iri!:j  into  shaTM- tri-.*  r-:>.  •  ►-       .   •      ^     -        .  -_   - 

rmes  «»f  II  in'W  sinri-.-i  t  •  .r.*:i.'.     T.    r    .    -   j-         •    . 
^k    tli:it    that   qiUL't    -ill.  s.»  w.  i-    -  :    .    .      .  -         - 

Uic'.-d.      so     littl».»     d-Jii-jii-'n::.'.    r  - :  *    :      *  .-    -    . 

»M   !inv:»   j»ot  thi-4  oiiiiiir- nv-r  ..  ;r    -  •'.•.Tv. 
ht.  intense  p.ift.  who  cmiium:  .*l-.'.!i        \V'.  .   v     '.--■-. 
iglit   uiiloys  to  papiT  h«*  ha-*  rui-    f-'.l  »-.v —     -.     r    :'        r    -.    .     :   : 
I   wliJit    lie   thinks    and   what   li-.-    -l-iwri-.- 1«:    V  .'  -;      —  r 
»'s  !       Ah.    Ja,ni.' I   Jano  I    as    ht*    a:u.i/.-::^  a.  i   ...••.       -  : 

es  '•  l.»\vly  ••  do  its  duty  in  rhym-    a    nL'W  o  ::- ■••"      I:    v    -.        :       .  :      I 
with    'Mioly,*'    and    resorvos    fit    could  rv!-"  ii    •   '•  v    . 
f?  li^Viir  flown  in  which  tho  lino  is    utrs;   Ir.ir  w.'.-r     i    ••      .    .,* 
>ur:'i  otr  into  *' uiolanf// '*///,"  an*    y<»u  w^iu.  I    ii.iri'.v    r; '.  :-■.•.  1     ■       I 
reatlfiii^  ills  last  sonn«.'t?  or  are    have  just  s-ii:   •»:!'  :  •   L ''.i  1  •:i.    >•'  .  r- 
looking  at  Horace's  luNir?  we   arc    t«»    ;.:«'t    an    K:.,''.:*li     ;»•■:.'. 

some  <'anital  diMwin;^-*  ut"  it  I'V  K  i  'i-'.. 
CHAPTER   XVIII.  ^^.|jj,.^j  ^;^^,jl,l  ,^^.^,.,.  -^..^^  „.,.|..V.:  ,:,.l   it 

AGE    VAXZAXDT  TO    MAliK   HIXS-  jH?rfcctly.     Xn  niatt.T.     S.»:u.-    tVi-nds 

DALK.  of  mine  havi'  an   irjt«»rcst  in  tlu'  pa- 

999  We.'*t  ISTH  Stbeet,  Ang.  u,  18T0.  tcnt  t'nV  tlli".  wImU'   Noith-wot,   with 

!y    i»kar    Mark,  —  The    Grey-  tho  cxt!C[>tion  of  I)avi'niH)rt,  Duhmyivv*^ 

people  t(ill  me  you  arc  in  Chicago,  and  twu  or  lhr«'«'  oVWt  c.xUvs,  \n\\V-\\ 

to  thiak  that  four  old  dream  ia  hud  be<Mi  sold  l>i*fov(5.     NW  ymoy^\^c  V\ 


of  One  by  Half  a  Dozen  of  tlie  Other, 


estiiblisli  one  good  shop  to  begin  with^ 
M  our  hea<l-centre ;  and  the  ques- 
tion now  is  where  it  Jihall  be  put.  I 
liave  been  rather  in  favor  of  Ohicaj^o 
myself,  it  is*  such  an  advantag^e  to  be 
ftt  a  central  point.  Wliererer  it  is 
establish u(l,  Chicago  will  bo  my  cen- 
tral point  for  some  manths,  till  we  are 
really  to  begin,  for  I  have  tlie  over- 
siglit  of  ah  tho  8ul>contrar!t3  we 
make. 

Oddly  enough,  as  very  likely  you 
know,  our  old  friend  Mrs.  Worboise, 
at  whose  adv^enturea  you  havo  Iteanl 
U3  laugh  so  much,  is  estabiiiihed  there. 
Would  you  mind  going  round  to  see 
her,  and  finding  out  surreptitiously 
whether  I  tan  go  to  ber  direct  when 
I  come  ?  If  I  write  and  ask,  she  will 
turn  out  the  best  inmates  she  has ; 
Abe  Lincoln  and  bia  wife  and  Thad 
w*ould  have  to  go  to  make  mom 
for  me,  if  she  could  not  provide 
otherwise.  But  if  you  think  she  has 
a  decent  attic,  or  other  landing-place, 
which  I  can  have  without  ruining 
her,  just  engage  it  for  me,  and  let  me 
know*  They  tell  me  business  was 
never  opening  so  briskly  in  Chicago. 
But  £  believe  that  is  what  you  West- 
ern ftdlows  always  say.  How  soon  I 
shall  be  saying  **w^e  Western  fellows!^* 
It  will  be  real  good  to  live  in  the 
same  **  school  decstrict  **  with  3*011 
again,  old  fellow.  Good- by. 
Yours  forever, 

Horace  Vaxzaxdt. 

Mirk  waa  thoroughly  glad  to  find 
that  one  of  the  old  set  was  coming 
out  to  be  near  him,  though  it  were 
but  for  a  time.  Of  course,  he  found 
that  Mrs,  Worboise  had  room  enough 
for  Horace,  apd  ho  was  only  sorry 
that  he  ha<l  established  himself  on 
the  West  Side,  Slie  waa  in  that  part 
oi  the  city  well  at  the  simthwar<l, 
where   it  bcgma  Iq  \>eco\i\<i  a,  \\\.v\^ 


opeui  and  her  gocn]^  s|>acioa 
had  room  enougli  And  to 
Horace  and  bis  belongiBgA 
pleased  waa  she  to  kn<»w 
had  thrown  him  under  ht?r 
Mark  was  quite  sure  that 
gave  him  pleasure  so  far. 
also  sure  that  it  gavi$  him 
—  no,  no  sort  ut  piun  —  to  fi 
ace  sptiaking  of  Ilacbcl  and 
drawing  a^  if  ho  were  m  in  i 
of  reganliug  her  as  entirely 
property,  that  there  need 
planation  wdiy  she  was  dratrf 
tratjons  of  specifications  ht 
was  sure  this  gave  btm  no  |i 
he  woudereil  a  little  why  it 
no  pain.  He  knew  very 
ever  since  Valentine's  Day,  ai 
e\^ery  poem  he  bad  written 
body  liad  bi^en  writt^a  to  Ji 
gess.  There  was  n  true  woi 
could  appreciate  btm  and  h 
ho  could  not  but  remf»mbcr| 
night  when  Kachel's 
and  the  verses  bo  wrote 
next  Valentine's  Day; 
he  remembered  that  he 
knew  how  be  could  ask  her 
tie  drama  of  his^  called  **  Thd 
tlie  WelV*  which  he  bftd  sei 
with  a  pretty  dedication,  1 
nobody  had  any  €i>py  of 
her.  lie  was  not  quite  »n 
could  get  it  brought  oat  at 
Opera  House;  and,  if  h^ 
wholly  dropped  cor  responds 
Rachel,  he  would  write 
fur  it.  It  pazktled  btm  a 
know,  first,  bow  he  crep 
thought  that  sha  waa  ao  gM 
of  his  work;  and^  second,  wli 
not  more  jealous  of  Hoiiiisf^ 
in  fact,  he  wa§  r 
Of  which  ID  V 
tiou  was  simple  euoiagi 
who  could  look  t^t  thai 


Six  of  One  hy  Half  a  Dozen  of  the  Other.        677 

Marky  vrho  could  not  umliimtwntl  thai 
as  lately  us  two  yoam  ago  tio  wim  iq 
that  tmnsition  condition  of  tlin  piilly* 
vmg^  or  the  t^uipoli^f  wUmhf  by  thn 
more  careful  writom  in  anthmimlogy, 
is  called  tlie  conditiaii  of  Uio  bobblo- 
dehoy. 


ihe 


girl 


It's  ri^ioo.  He  and  Rachel  Hoi  ley 
1^6911  ta  school  t*igether,  and  had 
together*  She  had  riddmi 
juiil,  tn  retup,  had  taaght 
cmt'^^radte.  Then  she 
ft  Woman  at  the  period 
c«iu»iag  to  be  a  boy,  but 
Weocii<»  %  man.  Being  the 
kfiew  best,  he  honored  her» 
ber»  aad  supposed  he  loved 
Is  %  mistake  which  often* 
vImtb  propinquity,  as  MiM 
caJU  it,  has  brought  a 
together*  The  woman 
judgod  the  situation  better 
flodgltng  Mark;  and  this 
OMMI  w^y  Sacbel  did  not 
nelf  to  him,  when  he  plead 
V  and  wrote  verses  which 
al^r   her.  mothers 

Hju^  w«s  to  become  »  man  m 

A  it^MOkf  m^Bf  if  foci 

•    man   who   did    not    yei 

iitdi  ftboiQEt  lunr  the  wolf  wes 

Ti  the  door,  or  wlieth^ 

of  htm  mM  or  eo«U 

ai#  sptc     StiUf  he 

ling  m   mftQ,  he  had 

mt0    near  nod 

r««    with    eaelfaftr 

Jane  Borgeo.    WHo^ 

lot   to    eonSdeatul   m 

this  sympethelk  JaaeT    Tel:, 

,  $h9  was   the   fifsi 

itcDmpliabed 

Xwk  Hiittdale  ted 

the  woman  he  hnew  he^  he 

her  in  torn, 

be  Wed  hm*    He 


was  a 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

Thk  Bardies  family,  with  full  con- 
tingents of  nurses  for  the  children^ 
even  with  a  man-servant  who  waji  to 
see  to  the  baggage,  as  if  il  needtid 
any  seeing  to,  and  with  Jane,  of 
coarse,  had  gone  to  uli^ep  at  Hocheftt^ir, 
N.Y.,  and  ba*i  waki^il  mmvt  forty 
miles  east  of  Windnor,  op[K>«ite  Jle« 
troit,  in  Cana/la*  Jane  had  Kutped 
down  an  immense  regret  wh«a  *he 
had  found  that  she  was  to  be  truRo 
died  by  Niagara,  actually  **  in  full 
si^t  of  the  eaursc't/'  as  No<i  Bard  Us 
toU  her,  withoai  aoy  idea  of  the 
pain  he  gave  her,  and  thai  she 
was  DoC  to  have  any  sight  of  it|  fiol 
e?en  to  be  waked  €0  see  the  •hiirim»r 
of  the  white  epny  ta  the  m'#onligbt| 
nor  to  hear  the  foar  of  the  water* 
oIm  eren  IbM  ioImummis  Maae  tliat 
ek  «p  tin  flOdnight  Md  90 
the  plflt^em  ae  ther  MMoodL 
if  ee  aba  w«ht  bill  the  immm  wt 
twenty  yearly  and  at  tenet  M  that 
Jf iagata^  ftel  •kw 
ee«aleoaii««s  Ut 
Her  hmtm  h§4  $^  U  uwh  np 
tbm  ¥lkm  hoilfts  wmm  me^le  u\$, 
f  cunU  de  vat  U»  wmAfn  llie* 
fe  le  tfesp.  PeHf4fP9 
i|i  when  Ote  l»iae 
Ba^akal  Mam  the  %kim 
epnsae  f*f  mWii  tt««t  4m 
k  was  u  m 

&f  aadb  imimif'ltHi  mt   thai 
panMd  rn^fi  afMM#al  $H   lNt# 

m  a  §9i  i9m  immn  kf  Mnt 
ffiidj/  nt  ilia  rnn^  UmA  «iUi^  mm 


578        Six  of  One  by  Half  a  Dozen  of  t/ie  Other, 


hanging  on  her  roller.     So  Jane  did 
not  **  see  Niagara ^^  that  time. 

Forty  mile«  east  of  Windiior  every- 
body WA9  awake,  and  began  to  say  he 
had  not  slept  a  wink  all  night.  Jane 
had  washed  herself  in  a  few  thimble- 
fulls  of  cinder  soup,  which  at  bcr  call 
distilled  like  dew  into  the  bottom  of 
a  cin do r-i*pe eked  basin  in  the  ladies* 
dressing-rooiD.  She  had  rubbed  some 
ring  or  lamp  sho  had  about  heri 
and  thos6  good  genii,  who  were  tkU 
ways  her  frieods,  had  arranged  the 
**  tan gl fid  dark-brown  hair,"  so  that  it 
seemed  as  if  nothing  had  disturbed 
her;  the  same  genii  had  created 
for  her  raatchleas  and  spotless  cuffs 
and  collars.  Then  Jano  went  back 
to  the  narrow  quarters  wjiere  she  had 
slept,  iiTid  faend  that  some  other 
genii  had  been  round  with  wandsi,  and 
that  the  berths  had  disappeared,  and 
that  ill  their  places  were  wide  and 
deep '^ rep'covered  *'  seats,  lighted  by 
largo  plate-glass  windows,  through 
which  she  could  see,  w^hat  was  a  bight 
quite  new  to  her,  the  blackened  clear- 
ings, tlie  log*cabius,  and  the  Septem- 
ber liar  vest  and  fruitage  of  a  new 
country.  The  sun  was  well  up,  and 
the  scene  was  exciting  enoughi  even 
to  a  person  less  hearty,  healthy,  and 
alive  than  Jane. 

An  hour  of  this  rapid  panorama 
fihiftiug,  and  she  knew,  without  ques- 
tion, that  she  was  hungry.  But  Jane 
was  a  little  reticent ;  and  she  lived 
on  a  principle  which  had  nerer  yet 
failed  her,  which  the  Western  people 
embody  in  their  direction  ."  Dou't  be 
first  to  squawk."  Jane  knew  very 
well,  that,  by  the  same  law  of  nature 
which  made  her  hungry,  Ned  Bar- 
dies was  already  more  htmgry  than 
she  ;  and  she  knew  that  if  he  were  in 
that  condition,  all  powers  in  earth 
would  be  set  in  operation  to  meet  his 
necesaitiody  aud^  etiU  mox^^  lW\.  ^^ 


ahoidd  fare  as  well  as  h^ 
still  looked  ont  upon  ptga  i 
and  com  aud  pumpkins 
and  log-cabins ;  caught 
then  the  long,  low  line  of 
which  they  were  skirting;  tm 
few  moments  more  that  the  i» 
of  cabins  increased,  and  that  th« 
approaching  some  plac«  with  & 
saw  Ned  Barflies  begin  lo  by 
to  stir  up  the  nouses  and 
dre^ :  and  thus  it  ha 
in  fifteen  minutes  from  thi!  I 
Jane  was  well  aware  thati 
hungry,  she  was  hustled  i 
in  the  steam  ferry-boat  aft 
had  been  placed  opposite 
sages  and  fried  oysters,  by 
attentive  host  who  pr 
was  receiving  bis 
every  hand-bagj  veil,  umbr 
paper,  and  shawl-strap  wt 
safety  as  the  bank  of  En| 
did  not  give  its  specie^  j 
ing  to  his  explanations  ' 
of  time  which  was  before  he 
meal.  '*  Centnil  Michigan  I 
going  by  the  Central? 
what  hours  were  before  tbeii 
breakfast !  "  In  all  which  hi 
and  hospitable  friend  was  sub 
correct.  Jane  had  time  eu^ 
a  good  breakfast. 

The  Bardies  children^ 
in  Tvith  nurses,  were  at  her 
their  extreme  left  they  were  pw 
by  Mrs,  Bardies.     Mr,  X<d 
belonging  to  a  sex  which 
was  down  stairs,  far  fro  a 
ftist-room,  watching  tht^iifl 
it  passed  the  customs-ofScex. 
all  the  men  of  all  the  ymHi 
ladies   and  children,   tberrf<^ 
well  forward  with  their 
the  children  had  fini«»hed 
steak  and  omelette,   tbnir 
and  ^ied  oysteriv  And  were  1 
QT^  ^trvx  VkUjckwheata  aiul  i 


Six  of  One  hy  Half  a  Dozen  of  the  Other.        679 


gentlemen  filed   tip   from 

deck  to  take  ^ich  chance 

thejr  might,  aoH  found 

ftit«  cur  friends.     The  last 

dung  hid  cap  and  gloves  on 

^ordered  "caffcie,  steak,  Indian 

drew  a  stool  into  place^  and 

[t0  sit  apposite  Jane.     It  was 

Vaasandt     One  of  the  lucky 

i  of  tjtivelling ! 

ight,    hearty,   pleasant   addi- 

made  to  their    party.      He 

'  had  Bot  met  now  for  more 

jrear,  and  only  for  a  few  mo- 

[dieti.     All  six  of  us  suppose, 

back  upon  it,  that  neither  of 

^appeared     to     the     other     as 

I  f  ceriamlvy  neither  would  have 

;  the  other  was  **  improved  j  ^ 

WB  hare  talked   it  over*  our 

i  has  been,  that  these  two  fresh 

r  joung  people  could  not  have 

!  about  in  the  world  as  much 

i  in  two  year%  more  or  less, 

fiunoQS  Grejford  sleigh-ride, 

gaining  that  self-possession, 

tMotkf     tact,     if   you     please ; 

'  io  expreaaioni  and  facility 

Bg,    which    varied    society 

which  the  reading  <yf  good 

contribotesy  which,   all   com- 

]lght«Q  up  man  or  woman 

e,  even  with  the  neai«st 

Did  fi^eods.     At   all  events, 

a  world   of   information 

pie  iti   whom  Jane  was  in- 

wbteh  was  new  to  her,  and 

,  aiacfa   that  was  new  to  him* 

he  had  been  making  rapid 

his    profesdian.     He    bad 

1  rwry  tbofooghly,  by  this  time, 

I  he  knew ;  an  immense  ac- 

for  the  ytmngstef  of  three 

ity.     She  had  moired,  ^  p^o- 

the  aociety  of  Boston  and 

Eiong  people  no  whit  more 

r^or  highly-br&d  than  those 

\^  GrejrfoPf^  hut  AtooDg  peo- 


ple of  many  more  types ;  and  their  ex- 
perience had  varied  hers,  and  had 
quickened  her  methods  of  expression. 
So  it  happened,  if  we  six  have  rightly 
analyzed  and  synthetized,  that  Hor- 
ace was  more  quiet,  more  simple,  and 
far  more  profound  in  what  he  had  to 
say  5  that  Jane  was  less  shy,  and  more 
animated,  in  what  she  had  to  say. 
Certainly,  talk  ranged  over  an  im- 
mense range ;  but  neither  said  any 
thing  of  the  bear. 

The  Bardleses  all  made  Horace  feel 
at  home.  Indeed,  they  were  occupy- 
ing almost  the  whole  of  a  drawing- 
room  car  with  their  immense  party. 
Nor  is  there  a  better  chance  for  long 
and  satisfactory  talk  than  in  a  good 
drawing-room  car,  when  the  road  is 
well  ballasted,  and  the  train  well  rum 
No  postman,  nay,  no  door-bell,  there  1 
So,  for  a  happy  hundred  and  fifty 
miles,  be  the  same  more  or  less,  they 
talked,  they  amused  the  children, 
they  read  the  September  "Old  and 
New,"  they  talked  again,  and  cut  out 
cats  and  horses  from  paper  for  the  lit- 
tle ones,  and  talked  again,  and  talked 
again  \  and  so  they  came  to  MarshaUi 
where  the  train  stopped  for  dinner. 
Dinner  was  soon  over,  and  all  the 
party  were  back  again  in  their  car 
but  Ned  Bardies  himself,  who  was 
taking  the  last  poasible  moment  with 
his  cigar  His  wile,  as  usual,  b^gan 
to  be  uueasy ;  the  train  began  to* 
start,  when  Ne<l  appeared  at  the  door 
triumphant,  threw  it  open,  and  waitnd 
on  the  platform  for  Nettie  Bylva  to 
come  in. 

Oar  readers  may  r*Mrollect  the  dr- 
cumfitances  undej  which  HonM*t>  Van- 
xandt  and  Nettie  Sylva  parted  at  tba 
North  Denmark  »Iejgh-ride,  Wa 
hare  tried  t^^  make  them  undernlaiid 
with  how  much  and  with  how  lltiU 
feeling  Nettie  wrote  t4*  hvm  wVww  V\%' 
was  fiat  in  New  YoA^  Vio^  *«  ^** 


580 


Six  of  One  by  Half  a  Dozen  of  the  Ot 


then  felt  hurt  by  His  manner  in  writ- 
ing to  ber,  and  haw  far  she  preteuiied 
to  feel  hurt.  We  have  also  tried  to 
make  the  reader  understand  how  deep 
wa»  the  wound  which  Jane  Burgess 
had  received,  when,  in  face  of  the  ob- 
servations of  the  mild  police  of  Grey- 
ford,  and  of  every  decision  of  its  com- 
mon law,  Jeff  Fleming,  who  had  been 
supposed  to  be  hers,  and  hers  only, 
since  they  outspelled  the  best  spellers 
in  the  district,  hail  transferred  his  heart 
and  hand  to  this  same  Nettie,  after 
his  long  illneas  at  the  deacon's*  To 
analyze  and  syuthettze  on  those 
yearnings  was  comparatively  easy. 
It  is  not  quite  bo  easy  to  say  just 
what  went  through  each  heart  of  the 
three,  and  each  mind,  when  they  met 
so  unexpectedly  in  the  drawing-room 
car  at  Marshall 

They  were  all  fond  of  each  other; 
that  was  certain.  The  girls  were 
very  fond  of  each  other.  Still,  Jane 
did  not  think  Nettie  had  ever  treated 
Horace  fairly,  and  she  had  told  her 
so  more  than  once.  For  all  that,  in 
the  very  depth  of  her  heart,  Jane 
was  glad  that,  as  things  Lad  turned, 
Nettie  had  treattil  Horace  as  she  had. 
It  was  clear  to  Jane's  well-balanoed 
mind  that  Nettie  never  could  have 
made  Horace  happy,  and  she  doubted 
whether  Horace  would  have  made  her 
happy.  Now,  to  pass  to  Nettie,  the 
bright,  pretty,  coquettish  thing  we 
must  confess  she  was  ;  she  was  **  just 
lis  glad  as  she  could  be ''  to  see  them 
both.  She  said  so,  and  we  all  six 
think  she  w^aa.  It  was  her  way  to 
be  glatl ;  and  she  was  more  apt  to  be 
glad  when  she  was  on  the  top  crest 
of  a  wave  that  seemed  likely  to  topple 
right  over,  than  on  any  conceivable 
level  of  any  summer  sea.  Still, 
though  Nettie  was  *' just  as  glad  as 
she  could  be,"  she  undoubtedly  was 
well  aware  that  Jeff  "FYemm^ 'waa  ^^ 


entirely  Jane's  pn>perty, 
came  frozen  stiff  into  the 
house,  had  only  Jane 
rainty,  as  was  any  unmaxki 
deacon's  property  when  it  wj 
by  the  river  on  his  meadow. 
knew  this  in  her  guilty  hi 
she  knew  as  well  that  ill 
when  she  had  played  '*i/r< 
to  Jeffi  and  he,  susceptible,  t( 
low%  ha«i  been  so  tearful, 
and  so  happy,  she  knew,  oi 
she  knew,  she  had  been 
great  wrencli  at  Jane's  beai 
And  as  for  Horace, — Ho( 
comforted  himself  with  Had 
verily.  Still  Nettie  did 
notice  that  the  guard-chaLq 
wore  was  one  she  knit  for 
that  there  had  been  a  time  i 
could  have  kept  him  in  Gn»; 
ever  had  she  chosen,  S<l 
Nettie  was  **  just  as  glad  as 
be"  to  see  them  both,  ^ 
think  that  it  was  with  tb 
wild  adventure,  and  that  &h< 
rious  to  know  how  many  of 
shells  among  which  they 
to  tread  would  be  brokent 
many  would  hold  firm  th 
and  their  albumen. 

It  must  be  confessed  thi 
of  the  girls  seemed  externa 
least  disturbed  by  any  of  tb 
tions ;  they  kisseil  and  laiij 
held  each  other  by  all  foi 
then  Nettie  did  all  the 
civilities  to  ^Irs.  Bardies  am 
and  then  tlie  three,  Jane,  N 
Horace,  nestled  down  intoooi 
and  began  talking  of  how 
fallen  out  that  they  had  a]| 
gether.  H6race  was  tryia 
suade  I^imself  tJiat  he  ongb 
confused.  Had  not  Ncttin 
him,  once,  twice,  thrice,  a 
take  Ms  favorite  roatbes 
m>a.\a»,    "Nay,  had  sbe  not 


H^r'j    11  tttiiiaii.^  •!    :::n  j:..  ^r.        V"..       •.;•...     t  *.     *.:-.  i      tUj 

?     yfOit    "In     !•?*    i-    r   rr/r- 

k*  wip:  J.I?  k   mniutui'  am*-j4iT-i  -in      >lJ.' ■-*"••:!»;      ii*s.fi      i.»i>^».\- 

.]  a;  «:ks4*v.  :ii-i:    :;■.*"    ua*    -^  ;»v  •?-■»       mi,    ul    tm** 

tii*   Lii  iin:  iiur   iniii:      Tit-^'  ".t-   o    •mi*    rrt-Mus   ^'^•^v   \-i\\    r>«iii»,M 

oo::    •<*^  '•'*  r   t!u::i    iniiT    lit-T-:  '•    .  iji.'-ur*    ii'Tuti    i    \.ii-  u    ui    Mmt 

■tff  iTr  kl   lll_lU*Jilii«  ruilt^    vii'M  -'jt*      3i.r»'ili—      -ii-f.r»       *.is-     ^'i  MniC 

rcr?.      y*-T^.it    VU+    t:niiuiiiUir  t'^"  r   fonirin;;i:.«iii>    wJimr      in    iiiii<)«{i! 

ber    j>an>rT.:-2'n       ]f_i     Znlit^'-  lanur     ll     jV.'llJli;»^i»rj     T*:»i»ll»fM.     •/     iJv* 

>=f«^?Ti2r  11  I  :f  «r.*!nii^  luniiHs:  oir    iiiti    imirir    ilIk    «<ii;4i>n':    .vu  ^viiir 

lioQ&.  ai»2   Lli  tiJL^fL   L.u!:ii»i  "rnnrN  vi.i:!!    in    i.^mjujiij**.    :/    n/    .ii«/i 

ini.     Ti'*-T    r.bi:    "!»»^i    i:t     u  uh    ur    vi  i-i    n;    /nif    .'.i-m*;*      Tj-.m 

iota.     JK-TM-i    >i    T'l-n'V  tiii*  iH?ri-i   .n    ;:i«!r::    :i,ii'»i  i.t  :..JiC  »■  J.).  ,7^- 

:0t  wherr.     X*-:::;-*-- 21;*iii^.vl1»*..  rfirn.iUi'L  i-*;.i;r    *»i  7i:iw;;7..4:   i.hiiJ   j>/m 

in  stjjriag  "«-.:i   l.i  I'jI  f:."iM'i  nus:  t  i.isi     :  .i.  :.).nH  ciu^^      Invj  i^r 

J    at   the  .ShrT^ihr    H:'S=«*^  :i  Ic    fT-i^r    /:j.r   ;,:  ff^rf    ^-wX.  i>:f.v^ 

J  on  this  parir-lij  iij,  iiz.i  vtc^c  TKvc.'i  i^:.;  ;^  ^>;f  ;Yi«*Nw  Ivnj^s!^ 

e  wa«j  ao  far  ozx  her  '■"*J-    Si't  ri  lIljci*.-;  *T;rr  Jl* :.? rr  iV.v..  (\fi\  f\t\\- 

en    riding  with  :bem  ili  :}:«■  ir.r     ■«~.:V;.^;     ixc^ty^uw*.  a\\s\   i^.\\\\<^ 

»m  Ann  Arbor  witLo:::  k-cir-  ri=:e>   iii  :!:*•  n'-i-r-'j.r.j:        VSrrv    was 

I  the    Hollev3   woaM    l-t-    in  pri^j    w'i:irivij:-vlA*^t^    of     i'h'.oAi;\»: 

<i  with  them  all !     And  Mark  tbrre  was  a::  ox.'wrsi.Mi   to  K'.vorsido. 

?re  already.     What  fun!  that  wor.dortV.l  ii:ui  W:ui;iful  otMmtiy 

her  Jane  nor  Horace  dared  ask  town,  \vhorv\  Ivfon*  vour  Iu»um«  is  huilc. 

where  Jeff  was.     And  Nettie,  vour  siilowalk  is  laid,  vour  wutor  and 

^  as  she  was,  did  not  happen  to  gas-pipos   ready,   your   draiiuii;o    tid 

justed,  and,    ill    jihort.    every    ^^liov 

ling  found   them  at  Chicago,  anoo  of  onlinary  huildiiii^   eiiied  lor 

was  to  goto  his  quarters  at  before  you   bej^iii.     'Huto   wito    tlm 

'orboise's.     The  Bardleses  and  stcx^k-yanls  to  l>e  sim'u,  uihIit  f  Im  n\  it 

ere  all  to  go  to  the  new  house  sight   of    Mr.   Dciiison,   a   mw  tiiu«li- 

Street.     Lut  all  parties  went  friend  of  MarkV,  win*  wa-*  vi-iy  iiiii  n 

A'ith    Nettie   to   the  Sherman  tive,   and  with    wliniu  thai.   mi\    (In I. 

There,    sure    enough,  they  Nettie  iiiafh*  v<Ty  ra(ii«l  a*  i|iiaiiilui»*  i- 

tachel  Holley  and  her  father.  Always  tlnrf  wa>,  im   a  \»\n*f  f/t  mm 

Ls  it  happened,  was  Mark  II  ins-  dezvous,   tin-    fool,   plia-an'  f(-:L«lifi^ 

laking  a   friendly   call.     The  nxjiii  of  thedohn  oman  Kidiai  v.  wIm  if 

rh  thought  that  he  and  Ea^;hel  Mark  liud  «ri:iii"l  inr  ili«    iin.r  a  vui 

>n  a  Tery'brotherly  and  ir'ijjterly  of  ]«;rrioij;A'J'',  hiv  in/  '/iih  n  i|  c  i  ^y  Uir 

Fif^e    of  the    six.   in    the  wf-^k  from  Mn    i*  i   nnu      'I  l.i-it   wn* 

of   life,  had  brought  up  at  th'.*  »-i«:va»or-j  ♦ ',!,»■  k.ih  >m,ij  »./j,Uji.Mi 

They  agreed  th*ry  would  in 'J*-*uii  Sv  if/jia"       'J  ti*-rv.  wviv  Uti^ 

the  sights  together  the  n*rxz  uaVf-vi«>f  ^/^^  wiV'n   \u%^  \wftK  i^ 


582 


Six  of  One  by  Half  a  Dozen  of  the  Other. 


ing  and  courteous  explanntions  from 
Mr,  Chegborough  and  Mr,  Clarke. 
Jane,  Nettie,  and  Kachel  had  all 
been  teachers  ;  and  they  had  found 
some  old  Normal-Sch*»l  acquaintance 
in  th«  high  school,  which  had  a  gteiit 
interest  for  them.  And  in  Mr.  Barry 
they  had  the  most  instructive  and 
kind  guide  in  the  treasures,  then  still 
in  their  fulness,  of  the  Chicago  His- 
torical Library.  In  those  days  there 
was  a  great  deal  for  intelligent  curi- 
osity to  see  and  enjoy  in  the  young 
city  of  the  Lakeside. 

No  one  of  them,  perhaps,  obaenred 
it  then  ;  but  the  rather  unusual  fact 
for  them,  that  they  were  not  precise- 
ly paired,  brought  these  young  people 
into   a  relation    new   to   them,    and 
much  more  fresh   and   healthy  than 
they  had  ever  been  in    before   since 
Qhildhc«Kl.     As  they  had  grown  to  be 
men  and  women,  they  had  always,  by 
some   fate   outside   themselves,  been 
thrown  in  conples.      At  the  sleigh- 
ride,  for  instance,  already  spoken  of, 
it  was  to  be  Mark  and  Kachel,  Jeff 
and  Jano,   Horace  and  Nettie.      In 
New  York,  it  was  Rachel  and  Horace* 
In    Boston,  it  was   Jane   and  Mark, 
Always  they  liad  been  counted  off  by 
twos,   as     the    drill     sergeants    say, 
whether  they  would  or  no.     But  in 
these  various  walks,  rtdes,  and  sails 
of    Chicago,    that   arrangement   was 
necessarily   broken.     For  there  were 
only  tsvo  of  the  young  men,  —  nobody 
knew  where  Jeff  Fleming  was,  —  and 
there  were   all    three   of  the   young 
women.     It  might  well  be  that  there 
was  some  Mr  Deniii^on,  or  Mr.  Marsh, 
or  Mr,  Fay  beside,  of  the  party, — 
very    likely    two    or    three    of   the 
Chicago  gentlemen,  who   had  found 
out   that   three    i>retty  Yankee  girls 
were   seeing   sights    together.       But 
the    old    doublet    combination    was 
broken  up.     If  t\\Gy  &i\3ttl«i^  \u  ^ii^ft 


arrangement  for  a  walk,  the?  ( 
back  in  another.  And,  without  ( 
thinking  much  of  it,  «ach  of  i 
was  thus  making  out  the  r€ai4ij 
character  of  the  otbere  a 
times  better  than  they  er 
before.  And  no  people  cwii 
more  surpriaes  in  each  othtrl 
those. 

One  Saturday  nighty  as  Uwf  ] 
ed  from  an   excursion   on  the  ^ 
Mr.  Forsyth,  wlio   handed  Ja 
shore,  and  walked  up  the  sti 
her,  asked  Iter  whero  she  via  I 
to  cliurch  the  next  day  ;  and,  1 
the  party  separated,  she  held 
gress  on   the  street^roruer  thatj 
mi  gilt  arrange  to   go   to  cku 
gether  the   next  day,  on  IbtiJ 
Sunday  in  Chicago.     On  Hmr  { 
Sundays  they  had  been  brok 
by   one    and    another    cbaoc 
parted.     This  time  they  woiiM  | 
gether. 

To  this  ihey  agreed;  am!,! 
little  chtLffer,  it  was  detcrmino 
Mark  and  Horace  should  meet  i 
Sherman  House,  escort  Rachel 
Nettie  to  Mr.  Bardles's  hoiw*,  I 
Jane  should  be  in  waiting,  ani 
would  all  go  together  to 
Church,  on  the  North  Side,  (o| 
Bobert  Cgllyer,  who  had  not  b 
turned  from  England  ;  and  tbis  j 
did  accordingly. 

They  were  not  too  late,  cerl 
but  not  too  early ;  were  met  i 
courteous  gentleman  at  th« 
the  church,  who  found  they  wou 
glad  to  sit  near  each  other,  aii<h 
gized  that  ho  must  thereli>r» 
them  near  the  door.  The  cbur 
large,  without  gdleries;  it 
ready  well  filletl.  The  low  [ 
ing  a  little  back  in  the  mid 
ranged  so  close  to  each  other ) 
giro  a  social  or  congregut«  m^p 
\Xv%  <i»\i^^^ia.tion.     And  the  I 


Six  of  One  hy  Half  a  Dozen  of  the  Other. 


583 


Connecticut  frietids  waa, 
re  at  home. 

was  of  sweet  ton<v  and 
m^W  plajej;  sometbing 
nl  in  the  voluntary  started 
in  Eaeh^r$  ejes.  Then 
her  M»e  in  the  pulpit,  A 
Jgt^-^'i^^*'  man,  with  full, 
imc^^  iron-graj  hairj  and 
k,  though  pic^rciiig  eyes, 
ling  hymn,  with  a  Lome- 
ess,  that,  in  an  instant, 
forget  him,  while  thejr 
tion  of  the  lines, 
y  controlled  them 
ben  he  read  the  Scrip- 
•fiaiig«  was  that  in  Luke, 
g  tlie  unfruitful  fig-tree,  and 
to  the  eighteen  men  who 
bj  the  tower  in  Siloam. 
g  people  felt  almost  as  if 
were  their  own  friends, 
why  they  had  never  be* 
pir  deatTuction.  After 
gregation  sat  eilent, 
plaintive  chords  from  the 
tmed  to  take  up  the  eager  and 
pergonal  petition-  It  was 
relief  that  no  one  said  a 
tho^  over-charged  minutes. 
n  the  preacher  did  rise,  with 
ti-book,  and  read  the  first 
tlie  bjrmD,  with  intense  feel- 
surprised  that  he  laid 
book,  and  sat  down,  as  if 
scttd  no  more, 

,w»ac  a  priodpte  within^ 
Of  jealous,  gixll  V  feat  i 
veniibilitj  to  frin ; 
A  pain  lo  find  it  near/' 

tli«»  hjma  was  sung,  he  gave 

eighteen,  upon   whom 

fin    Siloam  fell   and   slew 

je  that  they  were  sinners 

tliat  dwelt  in  Jerusa- 


Otir  young  friends  had  never  heard 
such  a  sermon.  They  were  magnet- 
ized by  the  speaker's  personal  power  f 
they  were  led  along  in  perfect  sym- 
pathy by  his  simplicity;  they  were 
moved  to  intense  feeling  by  hi3  un- 
disguised emotion.  In  the  beginning, 
tins  or  that  quaint  illustration  or  sug- 
gestion, thrown  in  without  any  reserve 
in  his  curious  Torksliire  dialect,  made 
them  turn  to  each  other  sometimes 
with  a  sympathetic  smile.  Hut,  be- 
fore he  was  done,  sympathy  expressed 
itself  rather  by  pressure  of  hand  with 
hand,  or  stillness  even  more  rapt 
than  ever.  For  he  was  speaking  now 
of  the  mutual  and  common  life  of 
men.  How  impossible  for  any  one  of 
us  to  live  for  himself,  or  to  die  for  him- 
self [  We  roust  not  say  nor  think,  that 
those  are  publicans,  and  we  are  purer 
than  they ;  do  they  sin,  is  it  not  be- 
cause the  atmosphere  of  their  lives 
has  been  so  tainted  ?  and  who  is  re- 
sponsible for  that  atmosphere,  if  not 
we,  among  the  rest  ?  He  just  alluded 
to  the  horrible  fraods  detected  just  then 
in  the  New  York  Ring,  but  it  was  with- 
out invective :  from  that  allusion  he 
passed  on  to  speak  with  intense  feel- 
ing of  that  average  conscience  of  the 
nation,  in  which  the  conception  or 
execution  of  such  frauds  could  be 
possible ;  and  he  held  man,  woman, 
and  child  to  the  duty  of  purifying 
that  conscience,  and  quickening  the 
common  life.  The  whole  hushed 
assembly  testified  by*  Its  sub^lued 
manner,  as  the  seryice  ended,  to  the 
power  of  this  personal  appeal. 

As  our  friends  began  their  walk 
home,  Nettie  found  herself  walking 
with  Mark  Hinsdale.  "If  I  lived 
within  twenty  miles  of  tliat  man," 
she  said,  "  I  would  hear  no  other 
preacher.  I  would  come  here  if  I 
came  barefoot.  O  Mark  !  what  lives 
we  leadl    How  can  oue  ^u^u?k%.^ 


584 


Curiosities  of  Literature. 


life  as  one  does,  when,  as  he  says, 
the  (!ioughtles3  make  others  thought- 
less antl  the  bmre  make  others 
bi-uve?'* 

It  seemed  to  Mark  that  he  had 
never  seen  the  real  mde  of  Nettie, 
beneath  her  merry  play,  before. 

Jane  and  Rachel  were  together, 
Ilonwe  with  them.  "  I  was  never 
in  a   Unitarian  church  before,"  eaid 


Rachel     "  An*  they  alirayi  »>  | 
and  silent  as  they  li^ave  cbttrck| 
as  they  go  home  ?  ^ 

**  I  doubt  if  th<»y  always  h^ar  \ 
sermons,"  said  Horace.    "  Tl»* 
pie  seem  to  nie  to  feel  as  I  do;  ( 
never  knew  before  my  duty  to  I 
world,  or  as  if '' — and  1  Ti 

shuddered  —  "  as  if  we  \n 
&ig^d  of  a  common  calamity/' 


CURIOSITIES  OF  LITEBATURE. 


BY   r.    B.    PEKKIKS. 


Certain  minds  are  ingenious,  but 
not  practical.  In  philosophy,  they 
labor  very  mu(;h  as  the  perpetual- 
motion  men  do  in  mechanica;  they 
construct  symmetrical  and  ingenious 
mtuhanisms,  which  will  not  go.  Lan- 
guage, tlie  Classification  of  Knowl- 
edge, and  Syjsteraa  of  the  Univeriie, 
are  flivorite  objects  of  this  delusive 
activity.  We  shall  quote,  for  compari- 
son, instances  of  the  foftuor  two,  he- 
fore  describing  our  instance  of  tho 
third.  One  James  Brown  published 
at  Philadelphia,  Bome  thirty  years 
ago  or  mon^,  a  number  of  books  on 
English  Grammar^  containing  a  de- 
liglitfully  logical  and  complete  nomen- 
clature and  analysis,  and  having,  by 
the  way,  in  his  list  of  **  Approvers  of 
the  System,"  such  respectable  Boa- 
ton  names  as  Barnum  Field,  William 
I>.  Swan,  Joseph  Halo  Abbot,  Wil- 
liam Russell,  and  otlrer^ ;  besides 
those  of  DeWitt  Clinton,  Pres,  Kott, 
S.  B.  Wood  worth,  and  a  good  many 
more  jjeople  of  reputation.  Mr, 
Brown  closes  his  prefjv^e  with  the 
following  amiable  reference  to  his 
namesake,  Mr,  Goold  Brown,  and  to 
I>r.  Peter  Bullions,  who,  he  intiraateg, 
|H>9sess,  if  they  are  not  them«elve», 
"  twining  fierpiants.^'    T\ie  ^^am.^  \% 


a   fine   specimen  of  tlie  ''Ajne 

of  Literature,"  not  fwunJin  Din 
**Be  this  liS  it  may,  however,*' 
our  grammarian,  *^1  fre^noaUf^ 
these  animals  to  the  progrts«ft  ot\ 
Appeal,      And  if  the   pupil 
to  behold  their  franttu  tlir 
deadly   poison    which  they 
their  homy  cells  for  him,  aodtol 
ness  the  ptta  of   error  gener; 
the  ulcers  which  these   two  J/m 
menders  have  ailded  to  hix 
will   read   that  work  with  mtf^ 
Mr.   Brown^s   book    is    colled 
English  Syntithulogy/* 
says,  is  the  8oieno<>  of 
divided  into  Syntt' 
eioology,    EngliHli  b .        ,    in 
Grammur)   is    divided    lDt# 
part.'^,    such   as  Cratology,   Idi^ 
Synology,    &c.       The   nanu^fl 
pai-ts  of  speech  are  mod  iti  cat  ion  J 
tl)6    terms  clod,    clad«»,    rled, 
did,  elide,  dot,  cltt^  and  corm,  or! 
To  these  arc  prefixed  im  H 

and  prota  and  plero  lu 
fore  the    terms,  either   altine 
Ute  pretixtTS ;  thus  aflordiog  i 
table  of  pemmtations,      INwd^ 
instance;   and  pin. 
them  all  out  your>  m 


Curiosities  of  Literature. 


585 


Cations  of  a  verb  other 
are  tlie  neclirun'MJei,  A 
^Hhat  syllabane,  or  frame- 
which  forms  a  conlic- 
lO  IB  a  clause*  Fbemic, 
pn^propltemic,  &c.,  are 
rfect^  &c.  Theumatiit, 
Ac,  describe  the  rdatlic- 
MMUiiinal  relations,  and  so 
Ikra  is  worked  out  into  ii 
grunmar,  the  second  part 
im  whiclt  the  prej*oiit  K;fer- 
taken)  being  a  book  of  some 
1  and  fifty  pages.  T)jere 
to  be,  rattling  enongh 
tatioQjs  of  a  well-drilled 
ng;  but  the  "live  tliun- 
um  *  woald  leap  ^m  the 
a  SQccessfiil  pupil  in  Sjd- 
is  some  tiling  that  most 
roiild  rather  imagine  than 
We  gire  a  specimen  or  two, 
H  mle  —  a  rather  short  one : 
\m  poeclades  which  have 
id  Aa«>e  neohronodex,  often 
thfir  prophemic  chroncMlex 
be  mnd  have  nechroDtxlex  ;  " 
V9Ty  much  like  some  of 
igting  devices  that  the 
|lQi  to  each  other,  about 
ThbtJesifter  and  hi»  bister, 
it  i*iper,  and  others.  Attitu- 
m  descriptioD  of  the  quaJi- 
tba$  (to  be  said  fa^r)  : 
John,  a  mero  jwecorm, 
iction,  nni  numonlic- 
iu  genediction.  Went, 
Inedable  pr>eelide,  pro- 
IX,  gnomi?fy in g  with 
:  **  Mf/  son.  My, 
iie|iae  cla*litory,  y  or;^an- 
nomittory,  tiupplemental 
ic  reUtory,  numeral 
ni  ?i  «  nopod  plu- 

lin   _  *  clede  idi«>- 

orgnnotory,  gnomefying 

gtaios  was  Judge  A,  E. 


B.  W«-Hj<JwarJ,  whoste  treatise  on  the 
cJa!*i*itication  of  knowledge,  "^^A  Sys* 
tern  of  Universal  Science,"  was  pub- 
lished in  a  large  octavo  volume  of 
three  hundrefl  and  seventy -one  pages, 
at  riiiladelphia,  in  181(5.  The  author 
waa  a  territorial  judge  in  Michigan, 
and  therefore  may  be  supposed  a 
miin  of  some  degree  of  professional 
ability ;  his  notions  about  practical 
investigations  in  universal  science 
were  pretty  much  on  a  par  with 
Brown '8  about  language.  Poor  old 
fellows  t  They  expected^  no  doubt, 
to  pervatle  their  respective  fields  with 
their  fame,  instead  of  subsiding  into 
book-stalls  and  collections  of  eccen- 
tricities. Judge  Woodward  waa  of 
the  opinion  that  knowledge  as  a  whole 
Imd  better  be  called,  **  The  Enca- 
tholepistemia.'*  This  was  divided 
into  iliree  departments,  collectively 
termed  the  Eparchia ;  the  three  into 
six,  called  the  8yna&cia ;  the  six  into 
eighteen,  called  the  Diorismia;  and 
lastly,  these  iut4>  sixty-four  ultimate 
divisions,  called  the  Epistemia,  All 
the  terms  were  Greek,  and  symme- 
triziHi  by  their  Greek  ending;?,  which 
were  -ica  in  the  three  higher,  and  -ia 
ill  the  lowest  division.  Thus,  we 
have  Callilogia,  Poesia,  Euphradia, 
and  Diacrisia,  for  the  four  depart- 
ments of  Cullilogica,  wldch  is  one  of 
the  three  depurtmeuts  of  Anthropo- 
glo^aica,  &c.  As  for  war,  it  is  Po- 
le mi  tactica^  and  is  divided  into  eight 
thingj*  fndijig  in  *tiLxia,  viz.,  ^eio-f 
Ilipfio-,  Bfiry  to-,  &c.,  b  fearful  and  jaw- 
crack  in*;  nri'ay,  that  might  in  itself 
put  an  army  to  flight. 

Very  much  such  another  machine, 
but  much  more  pretentious,  is  the  new 
revelation,  riot  of  language  only,  nor 
of  cla?5stHcahon  of  knowleilge  only, 
but  of  every  thing  whutcver,  which  is 
oflered  to  the  world  by  Mr,  Stephen 
Pearl  Andrews,  in  a  tooiay  %w*l^^ 


586 


Curiosities  of  Literature. 


printed  volume  of  nearly  nine  liun* 
dred  pages/  and  in  wliioli  lie  claimg  far 
more  than  God  Ahnighfy  has  ever 
duimed  for  any  tea*;lii«g8  of  hU 
through  any  book  inspired  by  him. 
God-»  revekitiou  sets  fortli  a  code  of 
religion  and  of  morak^  but  doe^  not 
enter  upon  the  domain  of  the  responsi- 
ble human  powers  of  acquirement  and 
ftetivity.  The  revelation  of  Andrews, 
however^  sets  forth,  —  with  pnjmises 
of  details  in  further  volumes  to  come, — 
a  new  religion,  a  new  sociology,  a  new 
universal  instrument  of  philosophical 
scientific  research,  a  new  language, 
aod  a  new  alphabet.  The  religion  is 
Y^ry  tenderly  hinted  at,  as  if  not 
lightly  to  be  exposed  to  the  poking  of 
fun  by  the  irreverent,  and  with  grave 
warnings  to  i^nj  generation  of  nine- 
teenth-century vipers  ;  as,  for  instance 
(p.  44):- 

**The  diurvh  must  not  then  as- 
sume to  dictate  to  God  the  mode  m 
which  a  new  revelation  or  dispensation 
shall  occur.  .  .  .  Let  the  religious 
world  look  to  it,  and  see  that  they  do 
not  reject  tlio  truth  because  it  cornea 
again  *  out  of  Nazareth,'  or  in  an 
unexpecti^d  gnise.  It  is  possible, — 
they  should  admit,  —  that  t/tt't/  may 
not  have  umlerstood,  in  advance,  all 
the  immensity  of  the  complexity  ami 
consibtenoy  of  the  development  of 
God's  providence  on  earth." 

**They^*  may  not.  The  intima- 
tion is  pretty  clear  that  Andrews  has, 
and  that  to  his  Yankee  Nazareth  we 
had  lH*tter  be  deeply  respectful  and 
grateful  for  its  good  thing.     And,  iu- 

*  Tho  BimIc  Out^lnoof  Unlvcr»olo«r>v  Au  Intro- 
duetlon  lo  tho  lU'Wiy  dl«eoveriH|  8ci«nof  of  th« 
Uiiinw^:  it^  fUmontar)  prlritjlr.lr4;  mut  the  ntnl 
•tRgi'B  of  til.  Ir  4vvriopntcnl  In  tlir  djioclnl  ect<>nort. 
Togothcr  wtih  IViltnidmry  Noilocnof  ALWAT^ 
(ahi-iisih'Ut\  lilt*  newly  iJii«CMV«^nH!  Hcli^nliflc 
utiiirfr»ul  1uti|(iii)g<^,  rcaultlntf  from  tho  prUiclpto* 
of  L'ni^,.f*oloyy,  By  Su'pht-n  IVtiH  AruUvw«  .  . 
Ki'vcluUoft  UimiJtfh  Sclonct^;  PliUo«4>pKy  of  Into* 
^fulUm;  Advfiil  of  Uw  RocommuUvv  Hivrroonyof 


deed,%veb        '         '  tiudl 

direct  st.t;  Aa 

hashabituaiiy  asserted  prr»nQal< 
of  a  grade  that  would  jo^tifj 
nitely  higher  reproofs  and 
than  this.    We  remem?' 
seen  hid  presence  meiu 
recent  platforma  at  public 
along  with  sufficiently  notorioiif  ^ 
acters.     This    is,  however,  can 
enough  ;  for   it  was   the  very 
Being  of  all  who  cousortai  niih^ 
licans  and  sioii«rd|  and  ju 
habit. 

The  new  method  in  sctftooij 
philosophy  is  aa  ^  supericpr  I 
con's,  as  the  calcultts  to 
your  fingers.  The  8ch<;mit  \>i 
ology  is  equally  Mdvaooed.  F^p 
itisadmitted,  hadgood  points  ;i 
merits  of  Comte«  one-^ded 
are,  are  most  kindly  ooncededd 
still,  what  could  be  erpe<.'ted 
man  who  was  only,  as  }J,r. . 
reminds  us  that  Cotute  waj, 
osophoid,  Naturoid,  Syns 
only  Pseudo-Keconstructiv 
place  of  their  lop-sided  dr 
Andrews  gives  us  Integralij 
the  Pantarchy,  This  last 
0  scoffer,  the  reign  of  the  PsntH 
or  -ttlet,  either,  but  an  ortler  of  ^ 
ence  for  communities  which 
exemplify  in  their  harmonio 
velopment  the  application 
affairs  of  e very-day  life,  of  tbtj 
ciples  of  the  new  religion,  and 
new  scientific  praxis  too, 

Tlie  new  language,  instead  < 
ing,  like  previous  attempt* of  thei 
a  Ulcere  empirical  fancy,  is  the  i 
utterance  of  the  universe*  rev 
itself  via  tlm  Andrusian  lar?ni 
more  p-ipular  name  ia  Al-w*»t< 
Speech-Thing);     its     <*tf*chnii 
philosophical    name,*'   li 
any  one  must  see,    j^tr 
\t.  \^    T\-ki-wa      (Unttioi»-Uia{ 


Curiogiiies  of  Literature. 


687 


The  alphabet,  grammars, 
ies,  school-books,  traoslations 
ard  works,  &c^  are  all.  we 
(p.  124),  "  in  Tarious  stages 
ration  or  adrancement.  in  the 
iterarr  Laboratory  of  the 
ry, —  an  entire  new  lireramre. 
f  the  UnivetsaL  or  Planetary 
We  strive  in  vain  to  con- 
^  emotions  of  the  harl-rea*i- 
?nt  on  finding  that  oar  ex- 
irthly  literatare.  of  a  million 
ilf  works  or  so,  ii  to  be  in- 
by  the  addition  of  acoch«f 
?,  in  a  new  l^nTi^^z^.  ar.'l 
ig  with  his  million  zz.i  a  iuil: 
anecary  system  does  wirh  zc^ 
•ne-  Bat  the  alphibtr-  L?  :ioc 
coming;  aad.forihe  prise:i- 
^cic  2^az  is  ahexl  of  ILr.  JLl- 
id  our  oli  friend  'K^ulA'-m.  as 
eqoaL 

bar  is  ic  ?  With  wbac  kaa  a^ 
1  done,  and  is  a^l  zha  r^w* 
be  done?  F^r  :-  zli^.^z  ih 
that  the  Jlnjinsi-ia  t  -hw  ;i. 
is  aiijective).  Lkj*  ::*:•*  T-iir:!:- 
veiatioa.  is  always  ri'-AT  '-i 
:he  area  of  hxnaa.  t:ni;a^:ir. 
leicher  has  'ii'is  Zir  innt^  -^l 
'  Lnstramenr  is  Jjui^tfrt.  Tie 
ierh';>d  of  zh^  nock  •-jiwki:* 
r  of  aCLemp"j  :»  iefiucf*  "roe 
>iis  from  cocreaocmiiyu:«5i  it' 
lareriiU  to  chin^  .mmar«*rai 
lore  which  *:ii.3   a  ij:r:uu 

»S  OC  CllaJQUCI'  .-IHC  2.*>riur  ;ui 
the  eeLeaca^Kil  vieftr.un  if 
ii :  If  one  :oct:aaiir  ::^tx»  -w/. 
'  l^ee,  how  £iz  jt  iz  r^nm  '^i«* 
Fuly  to  Caoe  Cjii  ^ 
ikrzTT^  a*7»  ^t  Aniir^w=i  n. 
is  now  aiMsn:  3  x  inT)j:wi  ^^ 
leokear  of  ^emte  ^  ':ii?  fx^/- 
t  in  fiii'«  'rf  -i-1  .^.yaisf--  -vii-i 
thalL  be  zi^ac7  •sanfxfr.Sffi  ir 
b^mL*     Hft  QU9L  mut^  lir. 


of  analogy  from  "Nature;"  Fou- 
rier's definition  of  it;  and  Sweden- 
borg's  mystical  and  confused  talk 
aloui  it,  from  ••  Heaven  and  I  lell ; " 

upon  which  he  supera'Idfl,  thus : 
-Ajial'jgT.  aji  I  employ  the  term,  em- 
brarre^.  cLa^iner^,  and  explains  all 
that  w  iL-raLt  by  th^wi  writerH;  but 
in  ad'iitioa  Vj  all  thiA,  it  i^  an  ^xart 
an^i  meamr'ih'e  ecr>o  of  likt^n^tx,  Hf# 
far  as  th^  ^ri^irtTiyiriZ  law  of  diM^ribu- 
tiOTl  J  ^rj!i/^ftTi*d-  rjfiitw^^.n  aiiv  two 
or  more  r-7-^n   -i'-yri^lz^M  of  >#^iri;j,  /«/ 

^h.f'y  m..r*f.  TV.  .4  aaar  F*-;  iilri<t.fA*>^fJ 
'"-y  -j:<»  £iii::  -.?■.*.•:  4^1  *i.*  ^•;OT;*«'+.ri':al 
Z,r:y^r^ j*si    '.r  ^    v.r  .">.    \%f.\r^r\.x\'f^    \\.% 

rui rji  •r,rj»ji.::,-r>,  r.r*^,  af*/|   i*«  r«^- 

iasrtfi  IT.  j:»*h"'  >-">»  of  *.M-vt  ft,rH 
sr-.wr:*«-M  3tr.  ^i",  -.-^  v%  waj;,  "  w/uld 
r»Tna,n  '-:«»  «i:iik  r  -  -mtfrti  tjrntrft^^ 
Tii-ja^'.^     :  -. I :*-*'.  .    *r^    -i^   *■>**,   «jiff»«'f 

".r    ^IH     ••  —  ■♦*.     v/i     nj%t.t^f    '^'/fiL     v;/^/// 

'ji^-V'-f-^T'  r  ^.rT..i  ••<  ff  .^  </  •>{  *^,P.ffjt»/l 
T!l»'T*    V  .»..  .     ^       .1*1   4.-,    •/•>»/•>    </.;,rc 

ny  • :  I't^ .  if  « ; '   >  .^-^jtsw    :  - .  •  v* -*■  ^'  -  /  // 

l»tJ.*     ti    ^■-fi'-fi'X  "'    .      ••"••.,», I.  .•*■  •      ■'1     -''. 

i'l>*,XI-*»-      ■.:iJ       .'••.-ill.     •      .,.,..        ,      -A 
■"I'Wl    u    ■■ »»-     ,'  I  ■' 
i.  "ij'i**   "   :  '— •     v 

'tin^^  '        "V  -     ,<. 

X'W       '••*•       r II   111..-'   ^*.. 

*-ii-?i?  :*'■  r  •  I—'  i.t«<  ,..•  4, 
f»rTi  t>--5J  *^  --,•  I'l-  J9  . 
U     1:'-    -  --^r.     ."  »...,^.    «. 


r-.. 


iw.;**i»*^      ^,      ^«     A,,JL^^^'^ 


r    - 


•.   ,/// 


■  /'•'/■• 


588 


Curiosities  of  Literature. 


I 


tlie  famous  Pythagoreati  theory  of 
EU ruber.  We  quote  again  the  para- 
gmpha  which  develop  this  notion. 
They  are  perhaps  a  little  too  long  j 
but  they  show  the  very  heart  and 
fovmdation  of  *'  ITuiversology,"  and 
may  save  five  dollars  (the  price  of 
the  volume)  to  some  inquiring 
reader.  After  arguing  that  there 
must  naturally  be  three  fundamental 
principles  in  all  science,  **  aad  corre- 
spondcntially,  of  Being  itself,  as  the 
Subject  Matter  of  Science/'  and  that 
"the  Fundamental  Principles  of 
all  science  are  to.  be  sought  in  the 
Mathematics^*^  Mr.  Andrews  pro- 
ceeds :  — 

"  Here  the  numljers  Oxk  (1)^  Two 
(2),  Three  (3),  the  beginniogs  of  the 
Numerical  Series  —  or  of  all  Count  — 
answer  to  our  call,  and  appear  as  the 
First  Heads  or  principles  ...  of  the 
whole  Positive  Numerical  Domain. 
.  .  ,  It  is  at  theiie  simple  beginnings 
that  the  scientific  world,  imitating 
the  progress  of  the  child,  must  make 
its  commencement  of  the  new  and 
exact  and  all-embracinp^,  or  universal 
scientific  career.  *  Unless  ye  become 
as  little  children,  ye  can  in  no  wise 
enter  into  the  kingdom  of  heaven,' 

*'The  number  one  (1)  is  the  head  of 
the  odd  number  series  of  the  cardinal 
numbers ;  the  number  two  (2)  of 
the  eiren  number  series ;  and  the 
number  three  (3)  of  the  integrated, 
or  comi>osite,  or  reconciliative  series. 
Conjointly  they  are,  therefore,  the 
Heads  and  Kepresentatives,  or,  other- 
wise, the  Joint-Head-and*Represen- 
tative,  of  the  Cardinal  or  Chief  Series 
of  Numeration  j  the  Grand  Domain 
of  Abstract  Mathematical  Science. 

"  In  a  more  general  sense  the 
number  one  (1)  represents  itself 
alone,  as  the  simple  absolute  unit. 
The  number  TWO  (2)  is  then  represen- 
tative of  all  pluraVity,  or  t\i^  %igfvAv  <il 


plurality,  which  is  pi 
is,  in  turn,  all  variety  or 
whatsoever.  The  number ' 
then  represents  tlie  Bloviim 
i/i€  primitive  absolute  tinii 
sented  by  one  (1);  WTTU  thi 
or  difference  J  represented  hy 
In  other  words,  one  (1)  is 
of  simple  unity ;  two  (2)  ihi 
variety;  and  thrt*e  (3) 
of  the  new  and  compoumdm 
tfie  simple  unit  if  wrxa^H 
This  is  that  ixfikitk  vim 

RTETY,     and      VABIETT     IX 

which,  it  will  be  deuionstr»ld 
positive  type  of  evkrt  m 

and  MOVEMENT  WHATSOKTl 
the  least  to  the  grtat^st. 
last,  and  composite  idea, 
adopted  the  new  technical  %t 
tJNI-VAniETY.  This  subtle  I 
ity  is  what  one  of  the  Germ! 
physicians,  Herbart,  hoi  i 
perceived  to  be  the  ultimate 
being;  and  what  he  has  cai 
great  propriety,  despite  i\\^  \ 
—  St  niggling  with  the  diffii 
expression,  —  the  IdentttV 
Identity  with  the  x 
**  From  these  Three  Pi 
bers  are  then  derived  the 
itive  Laws  or  Fundamental 
of  Univ'ersology,  which  nuiy| 
formally  introduced 
follows :  — 

*'  1.  The  First  Law 
SAL  Beinq  (in  the  na 
precedence)  hits  relation  to 
her  One  (I),  and  may  he  tc\ 
the  Spirit  of  One  ;  wbeaco 
nominated  Unisbi,  froi 
Unus,  One*  It  rami 
ates,  constitutively^  A: 
aM  Existence,  and  al 
and  is  ONE  of  lAd 
forces,  or  fiuitort,  or  P] 
all  things  in  the 
and  mViuU^ 


Curiosities  of  Literature. 


589 


Dust  suffice  for  transcription 
In  like  convincing  style 
»rth  Duism,  and  Treism  (or 
tm  or  Tri-Unism,  or  Tri- 
hich  last  "  is  therefore  idex- 
iTH  Real  Being  or  Cox- 
Existence  itself."  This 
ill  have  to  hear  examination, 
Bvay,  particularly  the  word 
lI/'  in  which  there  is  concen- 
le  enormoos  fallacy  of  the 
x>k,  —  the  confounding  of 
srith  causation.  The  rest  of 
me  is  a  laborious  develop- 
applications  of  this  wonder- 
ciple.  Its  arguments  are 
w  and  then  brought  up  in 
y  be  called  a  dress-pannle,  by 
queer  diagrams  and  pictures, 
items  may  be  added,  to  ena- 
student  to  fix  more  clearly 
er  place  of  this  revelation, 
is  imbued  throughout  with 
»,  sensual,  and  pretendedly 
notion  of  sex  in  all  things, 
taries  have  always  been  in 
f  promiscuous  licentious nes?. 
>bes  and  Swedenborg.  it  seieks 
sh  a  causal  analogy  between 
idoal  human  being  ami  the 
ce,  using,  for  in-stan-^e.  Swe- 
»  term  ~The  Grand  Man." 
rarchy  of  human  faenlcies 
adopted  makes  -kaowing^ 
leaving  the  enK>cioaal  nafiore 
>nd  place.  As  for  the  new 
,  we  have  lefk  no  room  tt>  ac- 
:.  In  Itself^  there  are  bon^- 
ices  to  it ;  bat  a  new  scien- 
linologj  is  used*  of  which,  a 
noes  may  be  seen  in  oor  eT- 
id  which  consists  eh'ni^j  in 
fication  of  existing  worrit  by 
:beap  Gic^  tail»  on.  tdi(*m. 
bere  is  a  system^  of  «nane ; 
good  as  Biova's  or  Wondr- 
at  BO  better.    Tltfvfr  u  aai 


overstrained,  however,  in  abundance 
of  places,  so  as  to  be  seen  through. 
For  instance,  it  is  false  philology  to 
take  the  syllable  oid  from  the  Greek 
eidos;  the  ''contest  of  the  Realists 
and  Nominalists"  (p.  40)  was  not 
the  same  as  that  of  idealism  and  sen- 
sationalism ;  it  did  not  go  to  the  gen- 
eral question,  whether  any  thing  had 
a  material  existence,  but  only  to  the 
particular  one,  whether  general  ideas 
had  a  material  existence  ;  the  deriva- 
tion of  ovation  from  ouum  (p.  578), 
so  as  to  mean  good-egging,  as  con- 
trasted with  rotten-egging,  is  simply 
ludicrous;  it  might  much  better  be 
taken  from  oviSf  referring  to  the 
sheepishness  of  the  modest  conqueror. 

Of  minor  objections,  we  pass  over  the 
extraordinary  display  of  italics,  small 
capitals,  capitals,  and  initial  letters, 
which  makes  some  of  the  pages  loffk 
as  if  they  had  been  set  from  a  case 
of  ^  pi ;  "^  for  this  is  a  matter  of  taste. 
Bat  we  ma^t  expose  Mr.  Andre ws^s 
cruel  inja+tice  t'>  Hiq^n.i.  He  (An- 
drew.^) hiA  parsiiir:']  hts  obligations 
to  Pythagorsw,  SwfSr«knWg^  Fonrier, 
Comte,  Jtc,  hrit  we  are  ^trrfi-A  to 
iay.  h^  avo-ideil  ev^n  to  name  Hig- 
ginj-  How.»T*r.  it  Ia  the  fskti^  of 
moLidt  mi*ric  to  h^  rj/rtttUjffjk^l  and 
uruiervalaeil  la  I.S72,  a*  ma^b  a.<  it 
wjLA  In  1708.  He  :«hall  have  whi^t 
small  meetl  '^  jrwtioe  we  fAn  do  him, 
howevtjr. 

In  die  proMp«*nta.^  of  Mr,  Higgin:^ 
(of  Sc  ILiry  Axe.  London;,  ^nft  to 
the  eiiitors  of  "^The  Anti— fa/r/>bin  " 
(see No.  23  of  zhxt  paper.  foT  April  1^, 
170*^),  aloncf  with  the  ft  rat  ftanto  f4  a 
poem  en.r.itl»*il  *  The  I^yven  of  fth^ 
TrianirieM,"  and  in  the  poem  itself, 
are  fiiami  many  coi  n*^idence«  wifth 
Mr.  Aniirew.V.-i  ri«-*#^trine«. 

Thus,   i^tij^    tti^p^T\A,    ^^  (}nt    flf«f. 
principle  w^  (het\,  t.h«  r^^fiv^  tA  ik^ 
mta  and  dull  maslnx  <A  V<v^f  ^  WHoi- 


590 


Curioaiiiea  of  Zdterattire. 


ever  t>,  i*  riylU,^  We  contend  tliat 
'  whatever  m,  ig  wrontj:  ,  .  .  Oar 
fioconJ  principle  is  the  *'  etermil  and 
absolute  perfect Ufil it y  of  man^*  " 
Again,  he  asserts  that  proper  modes 
of  linng  would  raise  man  ''  to  a  rank 
in  which  he  wonld  be,  as  it  were,  all 
MIXD ;  would  enjoy  unclouded  per- 
spicacity and  perpetual  ritality;  feed 
on  Oxt/gene^  and  never  die,  but  hj  his 
awn  conaentJ-  Compare  for  this 
idea,  Mr.  Andrews's  words,  p,  37 
of  his  introduction — "The  perhaps 
indefinite  prolongation  of  life  through 
the  higher  style  of  scientific  investi- 
gations which  the  new  science  will 
introduce.*'  Again  :  Mr.  Higgins  at- 
tempts *^  to  enlist  the  imagination 
under  tlie  bannur^  of  geometry;'*  a 
proceeding  which  might  very  well 
have  suggested  Mr.  Andre ws*a  junc* 
tion  (tuj  in  our  quotations*  and  in  his 
hook  generally)  of  mathematics  with 
all  sorts  of  imaginations,  Wc  quote 
a  few  lines,  which  will  abundantly 
prove  our  point,  and  will  show^  more- 
over, where  Mr.  Andrews  got  hia 
idea  of  the  universal  and  pervading 
existence  of  sex  in  all  things  j  and 
how  much  he  is  like  Higgins  (and 
James  Brown  too,  only  rather  milder) 
in  his  contempt  for  thosse  who  don*t 
agree  with  him  :  — 

Stfty  vour  nidc  step*,  Of  e'er  your  re<?t  invade 
Tbe  Muses*  liRunU,  ye  Sons  of  War  and 

Trade  I 
Nor  jou,  ye  Lt^on  Fiends  of  Church  vid 

Law, 
Pollute  thciB  piigea  with  unhnllowctl  pawl 
DobiiJ?od»  eormptcd,  g^roveJting^  and  confined, 
No  DEriNiTioNiJ  touch  ^ur  senseless  mind  j 
To  i/tiri  no  PosTULATKS  pfdcr  their  claim  ; 
Ko  ardent  Axioiif^  ^our  dull  &otils  inflanke  ; 
For  gou   no  Tanoent»  touch,  no   Angles 

meet, 
No  CincLEftjoin  in  osculAtion  sweet  I 

For  me, — ye  CissoiDfl,  round  my  temples 
bend 

Your  wundering  curvet,  ye  Cokchoidi  ex- 
lend; 


Let  plArruI  PK?fI>lTLE8  qnii.K  fii-i 
While  »ilcnt  CTCLOts  rejts  apoo 
Let  Hyohobtatics,  fum fHrnng  ■ 
Lejtd  the  li^ht  Nauiris  on  fanta^dl 
Li?«  fthrfll  Acoustics  tune  il»c 
With  KucLiD  aoge  fair  Alobi 
Th&  ohodktit  pnUc^  itttm^ 
And  wontofi  Optics  foil  thft  b 

We  fear  Mr.  Andrews 
have  a  satisCcM^tory  answaq 
But  just  once  more :  ^  Fa( 
Mr.  Andrews,  '^U  genertt 
number  "  (p.  357) ;  and  he 
demonstrates  a  theory  of  ciA 
gitinkig  with  number,  and  i 
ceeding  through  points,  linei 
most  exactly  like  Higgins ;  1 
id  the  notes  to  the  satne  p4 
39),  **  We  may  conceive  this 
Point  or  Punctum  &ilien4  0l 
versej  evolving  itself  by  hi 
ergies,  to  have  moved  fan* 
right  linei  ad  infinitum^  till 
tired.  After  whit-h,  the  rig 
which  it  had  generated,  woal(i| 
put  itself  in  motion  in  a  lat<9fl 
tion,"&c.  We  regret  that 
quote  it  in  full ;  it  is  Andrew! 
There  was  to  be  an  '*  Algehj 
den,  where  the  I'luenis  are  i 
as  rolling  with  an  even  cni 
tween  a  margin  of  curvu] 
higher  order,  over  a  pebbly  i 
inlaid  with  Differential  { 
This  lovely  idea,  we  believe  ; 
drews  haa  not  transferred. 


Only  the  ludicrous  featurei 
book  can  justify  our  having 
80  much  8pace ;  and  they  < 
vided  we  have  made  the  ei 
entertaining.  Useful  it  cat 
be,  except  by  way  of  wamiii 
Andrews^s  book|  to  come  do4 
rect  description,  is  a  big 
exhalation.  Its  light  ia  d€ 
leads  you  into  the  niire,  and 
badly  when  you  have  <mugh 
x«l\]tXa  \^  m  Corm  would  be  at 


St  Peter's  closed  lAcr^g  Eoig   WeeL  591 

kiralue  wliich  it  does  ikk  pos-  ^^ierstari*  tie  rbe.^^x  c€  lanwace 

Adisiectionof  it.c«itr.J  &^  ^ZI  be    n:^  e,i   ^r  rh;     w.r.^ra^ 

rouW  be  u  e»7  tssk.  fc*  it  f^-^    ^    UzLvJrsm;..-!-.       I^ieecL 

consirt  on]/  in  x  descripti-:-:!  h  we-n-r.    i-j.^     mi:-^rai^:z^     dis^^ir 

t  nlmftioo  between  things  ^nd  pf    ^he   ctear^^t  Ltrln    jmd    G^^k 

Hi  which  has  given  rise  to  the  irrivancns    *.!     orer  the     Kx^t  as 

hoticml  pait  of  langoAce.      A  ire'J  ^  thr  wh.-I*  rextaw  c^f  irs  di*- 

(iflciiasion  of  this  question  mar  caasioz^  sio^-*  ihi^  ::  wjls  caLiculAt^ed 

ind   in   the  fim  part  of    Dr.  for  tb^  krel  of  minds  wiiixxit  either 

ell's  **God  in  Chrifft,''  and  it  is  schoiarlr     CTilmre    or    naming     in 

I  say  that  no  one  who  correctlj  thought. 


ST.   PETEB'S  CX05ED  DURIXG  HOLY  WEEK. 

(to  THX  FOPB:   BT  a  TOSI-rBOPKft§I5G  FXIK3nX) 

IT  ails  thee,  Pio  Xono  ?  where  is  th j  Holv  We^k  ? 

his  the  waj  a  Pontiff  should  gratifj  a  pique  ? 

It !  play  the  snlky  school-g^rL  s^taj  in  the  house  and  peat, 

use  a  favored  rival  jnst  now  parables  about  ? 

t  difference  does  it  make  to  thee  who  wins  or  l^^ses  there, 

re  crowds  that  hiss  eclipses  fling  vivas  in  the  air? 

rvant  of  the  Kin^i;  of  kings,  and  not  keep  holv  time 

ose  the  king  of  Italy  is  guilty  of  a  crime  ? 

>f  this  world  thy  kingdom  is,  nor  on  this  world  depends; 

hamor  then  thy  enemies,  and  disconcert  thy  friends? 

m armors  not  yon  marble  floor  to-day  with  festal  hum, 

bannered  pomp  and  clashing  steel,  and  clang  of  trump  and  drum  ? 

is  it  that  no  silken  folds,  no  peacock's  feathers,  wave 
le  ranks  of  soldiers  and  of  priests  march  up  that  august  nave  ? 
?e  is  thy  priestly  dignity?  thy  kingly  courage,  where ? 
s  a  time  for  abjectness  and  cowardly  despair  ? 
t  that  holy  minster  God*8,  and  his  vicegerent's,  then  ? 
stands  it  sOent  then,  to-day,  to  do  despite  to  men  ? 
rings  it  not  with  sacred  joy,  and  peals  of  holy  song  ? 
echoes  not  that  silver  blast  its  lofty  walls  along  ? 
i*ias !  come,  confess  at  last  that  thou  art  but  a  man ! 
let  the  world  once  more  breathe  free  from  thy  pontific  ban. 
a  man  — hat  be  a  man  !  come  to  thy  place  to-day, 
to  the  Father  of  all  men  a  manly  homage  pay. 
e  a  man ;  with  manliness,  and  yet  with  meekness,  walk, 
ipiritual  shepherd  of  a  spiritual  flock. 

bave  we,  then,  believed  in  vain  thy  world-resounding  claim, 
is  thj  boasted  sovereignty  o*er  kings  an  empty  name? 
ij  let  that  majestic  dome  be  catholic  indeed, 
inding  with  a  human  .prayer  and  with  a  human  creed : 
Teed  of  Him  whose  prayer  still  sounds,  "  That  they  may  all  be  one ;" 
reed  that  makes  one  brotherhood  of  all  beneath  the  sun. 

C.  T.  M. 

BAT,] 


592 


Uj}B  and  Doicns, 


UPS    AND    DOWNS. 

A  KOVEL  IN  THIRTY   CHAPTERS* 

BY   EDWARD   R   UALE, 


CHAPTER  XVH. 

Bkrtha  staid* 

And  from  this  time  li«r  life  with 
tliese  wild  children,  and  their  half- 
crazy  mother,  with  ks  oiyasional 
glimpses  of  poor,  worn,  sad-looking 
Mr.  Kosensteiii,  had  new  eJeroeuts, 
and  began  to  partake  of  npa  and  downa 
quite  as  wayward  as  those  of  any- 
body else  in  this  story. 

When  slie  first  went  to  Mrlwaukie, 
whatever  the  roughness  of  the  ma- 
chinery of  Mr.  Rosenstein's  household, 
there  was  no  lack  of  that  useful  oil 
on  w^hlch  social  machinery  runs  most 
easily,  known  a^  money  when  it  is 
spoken  of  without  a  metaphor.  The 
children  askod  for  money »  and  got 
more  than  they  asked.  Mr.  Ilosen- 
stein  gave  money  open-handed,  for 
liouse-keeping  and  for  the  expenses 
of  dre^ss,  without  being  asked;  and  had 
onl}'  to  be  approached  with  any  de- 
mand, however  outrageous  or  absurd, 
by  his  wife  or  any  other  mem  her  of 
the  family,  to  answer  it  lavishly  and 
immediately.  It  nsed  to  be  said  of 
Deacon  Miles,  that  his  only  fault  was 
that  he  never  could  tell  what  a  woman 
should  have  to  do  with  a  five-dollar 
bill,  Mr,  Rosenstein  had  many  other 
faults,  but  this  was  not  hidden  among 
them.  Pepplo  of  Mrs.  Bosenstein's 
type  are  apt  to  think  that  any  tbiug 
conceivable  is  gained  If  they  only 
have  plenty  of  money.  Alack  and 
alas!  I  remember  poor  Mary,  who 
married  on  that  supposition,  and 
found  ID  three  days  that  she  had  a 
8uiky»  selfish,  silent  brute  in  her  house, 
who  had  only  wanted  to  marry  her 
because  be  could  t\i\iB  s^^vi^  ^^  doiau 


adorers  who  were  dying  to  i 
whom  ebe  had  placed  tber* 
own  consent,  and  kept  there 
own  solemn   row   and  pT^mii 
that   from   year**  end  to  year" 
and  from  life's  end  to  life's  end. 
cup  was   to  be   sourtnl  by  «^ 
chose    to    put    into     it,   and 
breath  she  drew  to  have  a  c 
twitch,   because    this    rv 
thero  1       Poor   Mary ! 
plenty  of  money  !       Bat,  if  sk 
smiled  again,  I  nerer  saw  it 

Bertha  had  found  out,  if  she 
t/»  learn  it,  that  mat 
oil  were  needed  to 
stein  machinery  run  easiir;  ai 
we  have  sufBciently  explained 
reader.      But   now  even  the 
of  oil  became  unsteatiy.       Son 
there  ivould    be  a    great  ru^ 
pouring  itself  all  over  the  mwe 
But    sometimes    the    wheels 
creak  and  groan,  and  get  wtrf 
the  bearings,  because  nooitwi 
had.     Or,  speaking  in  the  CidI 
the  street,  sometimes  Mr*  Rfl* 
was  flush,  and  sometimi*^  he  mi 
very  dry.     There  would  be  4 
borrowings  from  child   to  chik 
child  to  mother ;  b«:imiwiiigset1 
Bertha,  to  pay  sucli  trifles  ai  ^ 
press-fee.       All  eo    many 
that   the  supplies  had 
And   from    these,  and 
tokens,  Bertha  knew  that 
stein*s  businesa  roust  be 
ranged, 

She  knew  too  litlk  of  1 
self  to  make  any  gtte$a 
could  hold  to  for  a  week  il  j 


Ups  and  Downs, 


593 


never  dreamed  of,  as 
by  common  consent 
Slie  wondered  sometimes 
could  go  on  as  she  did, 
ek  Ttrbs,  and  German  ex- 
i«  latitude  of  Cape  Wal- 
the  population  of  Pekin, 
frere  the  moet  oommou- 
in  the  world ;  when, 
Hiring  IB  an  atmos- 
which  was  worthy  of 
it^ll  One  day  her 
all  bounds,  when 
great  aItert:^ation  down 
then  hashed^  eo 
went  on  with  her  writ- 
few  minutes  more  there 
fk  at  her  own  door.  It  was 
a  who  knocked,  pale 
'^Mtss  Schwarz,  the  per- 
m  United  Statea  officer, 
is  called  a  search -war^ 
that  he  has  the  right 
|9  every  room  in  this  house 
I  have'pemfitted  him  to  go 
lrif«*s  a&d  mine,  rather  than 
Would  you  be  kind 
let  bim  see  bow  much 
yott  kaire  in  your  bureau 
^  Thid  was  said  with  a  pro- 
BT*  It  did  not,  however, 
tb«  olBcer,  who  stepped 
id  ifptmmd  the  drawers,  ran- 
9m  pt^Hty  thoroughly  in- 
th^n^  with  a  rather  clumsy 
to  Bertha  that  he  was 
annoyed  her^  —  he  was 
duty*  His  eye  fell  on 
:tng  trunk  which  stood 
af  whieJi  the  door  was 

Bcvtlia,   give    him 

of  yrmt  tmnk,"  said   3(r. 

^  Vou  see  he  is  not  sat- 


r  the  tmnky''  said 
aa  a  queen  and  saTage 
I*  t* hmi  tbe» is  nothing  in 


it,  nor  has  been,  these  six  months. 
It  is  not  locked,  sir.  Do  your  duty/' 
This  with  a  sublime  sneer. 

The  officer  was  no  fooL  He  knew 
innocence  when  he  saw  it,  apolo- 
gised in  his  Gabion  again,  and  went 
bis  way. 

As  Bertha  was  going  to  bed  that 
evening,  one  of  those  whims  crossed 
her,  in  which  women  take  pleasure^ 
of  altering  the  arrangements  of  their 
sleeping-rooms.  Perhaps  the  incident 
of  the  officer  bad  made  her  think  that 
the  trunk  should  not  hare  been  in 
sight.  She  would  ask  Christine  to 
take  it  up  stairs,  and  she  should  have 
more  room  in  her  closet.  She  tried 
to  draw  it  out  into  the  room,  but  did 
so  only  with  great  diffculty.  The  trunk 
was  so  heavy  the  weight  surprised  hsr ; 
she  loosened  the  straps,  and  found,  to 
her  new  amaeement^  that  the  trunk 
was  locked-  Had  she  locked  it  her- 
self? She  never  locked  it ;  she  would 
bave  sworn  it  was  not  locked :  she  re- 
membered bow  fiercely  she  had  told 
the  officer  it  was  not  locked.  She 
found  the  key  in  a  moment,  unlocked 
the  trunk,  opened  it  with  difficulty, 
so  heavy  was  the  upper  half  of  it, 
and  then  found  that  both  top  and 
bottom  were  fully  crowded  home 
with  specimen  cards  of  English  cutlery 
of  every  variety.  Knives,  scissors,  sur- 
gical implements,  table  furniture,  — 
things  that  Bertha  had  never  beard  of 
nor  dreamed  of  were  there.  But  only 
one  of  each  kind ! 

Poor  Bertha!  this  was  the  trunk 
she  had  so  bravely  defied  the  officer  to 
examine. 

What  did  it  all  mean?  How 
could  it  be  that  Mr.  Bosenstein  was  a 
receiver  of  stolen  goods  ?  and  what 
ought  she  do  ?  Should  she  go  and  find 
the  officer,  and  tell  what  she  had 
found?  It  seemed  cruel  that  aba 
should  bave  to  denofunce  any  ou%  m 


594 


Tips  and  Downs. 


wboee  houae  she  was  living*  Should 
she  deiiJLiwd  an  explanation  from  Mr, 
Roaenstein  ?  eliould  she  insist  on 
leaving  aboufte  where  there  could  be 
Buch  mysteries?  Poor  Bertha.  She 
got  into  bed  feeling  that  she  should 
never  sleep  again. 

In  fact  J  she  was  asleep  in  Ef):een 
minutes.  But  the  next  morning,  of 
course,  all  her  cares  returned.  She 
determined  to  take  one  card  of  the 
knives  from  the  trunk,  and  carry  them 
down  to  Mr,  Eoaen stein,  and  demand 
an  explanation.  She  opened  t]ie 
trunk,  and  there  was  nothing  there  i 

Bertha  went  down  stairs,  puzzled 
and  provoked.  Of  one  thing  she  was 
sure,  she  would  have  an  immediate  ex- 
planation. But  of  course  when  she 
found  them  all  at  the  break  fast- table, 
as,  to  ber  surprise,  she  did,  she  did  not 
rush  in  with  a  carving-knife,  and  ciy, 
*'  Explain  \  explain  !  "  She  sat  down 
and  let  Mr.  Rosenstein  offer  her  every 
thing,  and  give  her  a  spoonful  of 
omelette-  Of  course  she  could  not 
have  an  explanation  then.  As  it 
liappened,  she  had  not  eaten  her 
breakfast  before  he  ivas  called  to  the 
door  on  business.  No  sort  of  allusion 
was  made  by  anybody  to  th©  officer 
or  the  search-warrant.  Bertha  loitered 
down  stairs,  before  she  joined  the 
cliildren  in  the  schoolroom.  But  on 
inquiry,  it  proved  Mr,  Rosenstein  had 
gone  out.  And  he  did  not  return  for 
more  than  a  week.  So  for  that  week 
Bertha  had  to  live  without  an  explana- 
tion. 

When  Mr,  Rosenstein  did  come 
borne,  it  was  not  Bertha  who  sought 
an  explanation  from  biin  ;  it  was  he 
who  came  to  make  one  to  her. 

It  was,  however,  a  minimum  of  an 
wEplauation.  Simply  and  sadly, — 
with  sailness,  in<leed,  which  ootn-^ 
mandtd  all  Bertha's  sympathy, — he 
told  lier  that  Ue  iounOk  \l\&  ^%\.^\v^- 


ment  was  much  more  expem 
be  could  maintain.  His 
not  been  successful ;  b#  1 
mined  to  sell  his  bonge  and 
and  remove  his  family  t4i  \ 
leans,  where  his  partner  lii 
was  very  sonT*  after  Mi««- 
liaii  staid  purely  at  his  i 
break  his  engagement  with 
be  must  do  so.  They 
break  up  so  suddenly,  thai 
notify  her  at  oncis  of  hia  m 
He  supposed  she  would  hke 
her  fa  therms  at  once;  and,  if  sh 
he  would  take  her  passage  in 
of  tbe  next  day  for  Detroit, 
make  up  her  salary  to  th< 
the  year.  And,  fairly  with 
his  eyes,  this  incompreheD« 
thanked  her  again  and  agsL 
kindness  to  the  children, 
had  given  them  tbe  only 
life  they  bad  had  since 
horn. 

Could  Bertha  poasibly  oa 
explanation  then  ? 

She  never  did  aak  for  one, 
never  got  one.  The  real  ex] 
was,  that  Mr.  Koeenstein  wi 
important  link  in  a  very  laq 
nation  of  smugglensf  who,  by 
ments  which  need  not  be  ( 
here,  were  systematically  di 
the  revenue  on  an  enormous 

CHAPTEB  XVni, 


As  Jasper  came  down 
a  little  late  one  day^  Mr.  Bi 
him,  and  said,  with  an 
<'  I   am   very  glad   you  hm 
would  you  aa  lief  aee 
people  ?     I  think  my  bi 
not  agree  with  me.      I  bar* 
faint  feeling,  and  I  bad 
out  of  the  sun." 

Of  coune  Jasfier 
dryiiig^bot>   witli    tha    Pc< 
"^^  %dk  ^  \Wit  ard«». 


Ijp9  and  Downs. 


595 


f  eam«  back  into  the  affice^ 
Ci;  Baffum,  to  his  amaze- 
g  at  ftttl  length  on  a 
.polog3r  for  a  sofa  they  had 
lijig-footii«  Such  a  thing 
I  neivr  seen  before.  He 
mdy  of  coarae,  and  came  to 
ea^iij  to  aeire  him.  He 
diatieaied  as  poor  Buffum 
gttiiilf  round  to  look  at 
re  was  the  same  anxious 
i«  bad  half  an  hour  before^ 
mtiiTee  seemed  strangely 
Ob!*'  said  he  faintly,  to 
am  glad  you  have  come 
J  down  here  for  a  minute. 
Mm  in  no  condition  to  do 
I  bare  a  strange  weight 

KIl'*  Jaspe^  was  more 
he  manifest  look  of 
face,  than  by  what  he 
i  Oscar  at  once  for  Mr. 
W  was  in  the  carpenter- 
9  one  of  the  boys  put  a 
an  easy  lockaway^  which 
he  yard,  and  then  he  and 
Bily  prevailed  on  poor  Buf- 
bame.  Dundas  slipped  on 
id  drore ;  and  Osc^ir  sat  in 
pf  that  Mr.  Bulfum  might 
k  iboalder,  for  he  seemed 
I^B  eit  apon  the  seat 
^■hem  returned  till  noon. 
Hfr  aacb  a  change  in  a 
f  life,'' §aid  Dundas.  "We 
By  get  him  to  bed,  —  his 
^nd  L     And   now,  if  yon. 

0  ill  and  see  him,  Rising, 
mH  koow  who  it  was,  his 

1  htm  falleD  in  so,  and  his 
ii  flo  cHaoged. 

ijteov  yoit  when  you  left 

W    aai 


holly  conscious, 


10 

ble  pain.''     And 

aaid    this,   he    pa^^ed 

le  imier  office,  giving 

hie  ef^ithf  »8  he 


passed,  that  be  wished  him  to  do  the 
same. 

Jasper  followed  him,  and  closed  the 
door,  that  Oscar,  and  the  other  work- 
men, who  were  clustering  about  him, 
need  not  hear  what  he  said. 

«  Is  it  cholera  ?  "  said  he  to  Mr. 
Dundas. 

**  Xot  a  doubt  of  it,"  was  the  sad 
reply.  "  He  has  already  the  most 
agonizing  cramps.  It  is  terrible  to 
see  any  one  in  such  pain ;  and  poor 
Bnffum  has  been  so  tender  and  gentle 
all  the  time.  Did  you  not  notice  that 
blue  margin  round  biB  eyes?  Well, 
after  we  got  him  to  bed,  his  eyea 
flashed  with  a  brilliancy  I  never 
saw  before,  and  this  corpse-like  bine 
was  horrible.  The  doctor  is  there 
nov¥,  with  his  camphors  and  lauda- 
nums and  brandies,  but  I  could  not 
see  that  they  made  a  hairVbreadth 
of  difference.  I  told  Oscar  to  bring 
me  back,  because  I  knew  you  would 
be  anxious.  I  will  send  him  now 
with  a  message  to  my  wife,  and  then 
I  have  told  Mrs.  Buffum  that  I  will 
spend  the  afternoon  and  night  with 
her."  Here  Dundas  dropped  his 
Toice.  **  You  see,  if  he  gets  no  relief, 
he  will  not  be  alive  in  the  morning^ 
and  people  are  so  frightened  that  she 
will  find  it  hard  to  get  any  one  to 
stay  with  her." 

The  truth  was,  that  the  Asiatic 
cholera  had  been  making  the  second 
of  its  terrible  incursions  of  the  present 
century.  Everybody  in  Detroit  had 
been  watching,  wondering,  and  expect- 
ing it ;  but  there  had  been  no  certain 
case  till  this.  Dundas  had  not  want- 
ed to  give  unnecessary  alarm,  and  so 
had  made  his  story  to  his  partner  pri- 
vate. 

But  little  use  wie  there  in  secrecy, 
or  ho[ie  to  maintain  it.  His  prognoe- 
tic  regarding  Mr.  Bufftim  was  only 
too  true.     The  attack  waa  tt^m^n^Hnaa 


696 


UpB  and  Downs. 


in  its  celerity.  Jasper  stopped  at  the 
house  as  he  went  home  at  aight,  to 
offer  any  service,  and  went  up  into 
the  poor  patient's  room*  He  did  this, 
not  only  to  be  of  any  relief  he  might 
to  him,  but  to  encourage  the  rest,  if 
he  could,  by  showing  that  he  had  no 
fear  of  contagion.  Mr.  Buffnm  an- 
swered him  when  he  was  spoken  to, 
but  Dundaj*  had  been  quite  right  in 
saying  that  Jasper  would  not  have 
known  him.  Features,  color,  expres- 
moo,  the  whole  face  wae  wholly 
changed.  Even  his  voice  was  un- 
natural,  so  that  there  was  nothing 
left  to  be  recognized;  and  to  see  a 
man  of  Buffura's  strength  so  utterly 
prostrate,  utterly  without  muscular 
power  of  any  sort,  in  so  few  hours 
since  they  had  seen  him  standing  and 
moving,  was  the  greatest  mystery  of 
all  There  was  nothing  Jasper  could 
do,  but  to  try  to  say  S4»mething  hope- 
ful to  the  poor  wife  j  and  then  he  bade 
Oscar  drive  him  home. 

At  the  sliop,  the  next  day,  he  met 
the  announcement  that  it  was  all  over 
with  his  poor  partner.  He  had  not 
lived  till  daybreak.  There  were 
some  faint  turns,  Dundas  said,  which 
seemed  almost  a  relief  after  the  suffer- 
ing they  had  seen ;  and  for  himself, 
he  confessed  that  all  treatment  had 
been  so  powerless,  that  he  had  felt  a 
strange  relief  when  he  saw  death 
creeping  on,  and  knew  that  his  poor- 
friend  had  some  relief  from  his  agony. 
He  only  came  round  to  give  Jasper 
this  news,  and  then  went  home  to  un- 
dress and  sleep,  if  he  might.  Mean- 
while, Jasper  learned  that  two  of  the 
men  were  down,  either  from  the  dis- 
ease or  from  fear.  The  next  day  two 
or  three  more  were  absent;  but  it  was 
thought  by  the  one  or  two  who  re- 
mained that  thef  were  not  sick,  but 
had  fled  the  city.  'Of  work,  in- 
deed,  there  waa  \itt\^  ^novi^  \ia  \*^ 


Hi]  au| 


done  in  these  sultry  Ati 
Jasper  only  kept  up  the  fonofl 
that  the  men^s  minds  mightl 
on  something  beside  ^'pTeiso^ 
of  which  every  one  was  talkj 
occupied  himself,  as  did  atlj 
intelligence  and  public 
ing  proper  arrangement 
emigrants,  who  landed  ^ 
steamer  bound  up  the  lakel 
the  depressed  state  of  the! 
tutions  were  just  so  much  hi 
disease.  Three  or  four  temp^ 
pitala  were  opened  for  their  ti 
and  bodies  of  volunteer  nur*^ 
sexes,  came  to  the  relief  «i 
ance  of  the  physicians.  < 

The  next  Mondayi  whe| 
and  Oscar  came  to  the  sboj 
Sunday  which  ha<l  bt?ea  c4 
to  hospital  service,  he  was  i 
to  find  a  note  from  Mr.  Thi 
ing  that  he  himself  was  not 
was  nothing,  the  note  sai^ 
thought  it  best  to  be  prudeni 
called  Oscar  in,  to  bid  hial 
ho£se  to  a  wagon ;  but  as  th^ 
tered,  he  perceived  in  an  ioi 
with  a  sinking  heart,  ihwii 
dragged,  and  that  somethiii| 
matter  with  him.  Jasper  | 
longer  sentence  than  he  hai 
that  he  might  get  a  fulli 
Oscar's  eyes  ;  and  there,  too  i 
were  the  blue  circles  arool 
which  he  had  learned  to  kiici'4 

"Just  sit  here  for  a  minii^ 
said  he,  without  saying  a  wi 
to  alarm  the  bor.    "  I  will  bj 


a  moment ;  lie  back  on 


on  ihtj 
hat  he 


look    tired."     And 
ama7^d   at   himself* 
was  tired;  and  next  that  he] 
protest   against   hU    maatei 
He  knew,  as  well   as  Jaspj 
that  it   was  very   strange 
should  consent  to  lie 


Up*  and  Downt. 


697 


Jmiper  Itid  lno  via  lbs  tefotm^  boytal.     Xbef 

;iil  fl«Ali6d  meiom  hm  mii>4  1"^  one  on  pvpotft,     II  vm  ckM 

i0iiiwhk2ilieMtw«ioii0oC  kf  A«  nvvr,  m»  ^kml  ^tuf  wwm  wmm 

ik  Oiear  hmA  nred  Co  tl»  of  m  goo4  ^ir  m§  eooU  W  had  soj' 

le  Iw    WM    in    MHwMkM.  what.     It  kad  m  wnd0< 

Okv  gendj  11^  Ike  suBe  BaDxf  an^  Ibr  tka  piaaMil 

in  which  thej  h^d  earned  Terf  large  viadowe  kad  keen  cnty  — 

iraj  £»r  tke  last  tziaa.     One  vkidk  wm,  ia  Ibct,  ee  oiaiif  kan^ 

I  keld  hiamadaaa^kir  damy — and  gave  te  all  tke  man 

boflaepaaike7Teai,a&tkie%  tke  awgt  aiafia  wiatjlitiaa     ▲  loll^ 
pital  where  Oacaraad  Jaipei 

L  on  duly  afl  tke  db^  ke-  kad  alv^a  asMfeed  af«r  akaafc  kitf 

parktonelftkcsewaaglK'tke  tke  kaildia^     Ha 

IkoUeddieawitki]!.    Thece  Bids  to  wriarfff  tkbi   kal  a 

ikftiatkeakopiiviB  wsiaBt  atoimar  ^^  ^i«  b«il%  bf 

He  pMairf  ikm^jk  «kkk  Am  «m  eagr  attM  la  li. 

l^ed    mmdmghamar^    ami  Tkam  ««aa^  Aeukm,  t«a  vaadi  to 


598 


Up9  and  Downs. 


ude,  and  a  little  Dopatnted  tahle  of 
white  pine,  on  the  other. 

Jasper  arrired  at  the  hoeipital 
within  an  hour  after  Oscar  and  the 
other  partj  had  come  there.  Jasper 
stopped  a  moinent  at  the  little  office, 
which  was  a  separate,  ten-foot  build- 
ing, on  the  ontside. 

**  What  do  yon  think  of  mj  poor 
boj,  doctor  ?  "  he  said,  finding  that 
one  of  the  gentlemen  on  duty  had 
returned  for  a  moment  to  the  office. 

**  0  Kising  !  is  it  you  ?  "  sard  Dr. 
Wirt,  looking  up  for  a  moment  **  I 
am  sorry  to  say,  there  is  no  doubt  it  is 
a  real  attack.  Indeed,  he  looked 
badly  when  he  stopped  here  this 
rooming  with  your  message,  and  I 
tried  to  persuade  him  then  not  to  go 
any  farther.  But  I  might  as  well 
have  spoken  to  the  wind.  You  had 
told  him  to  meet  you  at  your  shop,  he 
said;  and  it  was  very  clear  that  he 
would  hare  gone  on  and  met  you,  if 
he  had  died.  We  have  got  him  to 
bed.  I  have  been  giving  him  hot 
teas,  just  as  we  were  onlering  yester- 
day ;  and  he  h*  not,  as  yet,  in  any 
pun.  You  will  be  of  more  use  to 
him  than  we  shall  be*** 

**  I  wish  I  thought  so,"  said  Jasper, 
as  they  passed  into  the  butldttig  to- 
gether. •*  How  many  new  cases  have 
you?" 

''Well,  I  believe  we  have  eight, 
counting  Oscar,  since  you  left  yes^ter* 
day.  But,  per  contra,  we  have  only 
lost  two.  It  is  the  best  night  for  a 
week)  I  do  not  think  we  can  say  it 
is  the  treatment.  But  it  does  seem 
as  if  the  violence  of  the  attiicks  were 
less  as  the  number  increases.  Cer^ 
tainly,  our  proportion  her©  is  better. 
Do  you  know  what  Sabine  says  ?  '* 

Ko,  Jasper  did  not  know ;  and^  as 
he  said  thi.«,  they  came  to  No.  47. 
Oscar  was  No.  47  from  this  time,  and 
by  No.  47  Jasper  tooV  \\\a  wi^^    B.^ 


acquainted  himself  in  a  few  mli 
with  what  had  been  dnoe,  Ij  \ 
nurse  whom  he  found  on  dtttj;  j 
then  he  assumed  his  cha^  of  ] 
46,  47,  and  48.  This 
which  both  he  and  Oaear  hti  1 
rendering  at  intervals  now  fur  I 
or  four  days. 

*'  It  is  that  my  head  aehsB,de«l 
ter,  as  I  did  not  know  my  head  I 
ache.     And  I  do  not  hearveiyi 
what  Dr.  Wirt  says  to  roe,  and  i 
this  nurse-man — man-nurse,  irb 
call  him  ?  —  wants  to  say.    BqI  J 
you  have  come,  my  dear  madttr^ 
poor  boy  will    be    well    soon— I 
soon.**     And  then  he  sunk  intal 
silence   which    was   so    mucb 
natural   than   continued     speediij 
this  terrible  prostration. 

As  Jasper  sat,  as  he  varisll 
tr^tment  according  to  the 
direction  under  the  constant  ^ 
of  symptoms,  he  persuaded  hia 
once  or  twice,  that  this  was  uot  | 
to  be  a  severe  attack  ;  once  or! 
again,  that  it  was  one  of 
severity.  And  he  learned,  tbiUv^ 
he  had  not  known  before,  til 
nurse  may  be  too  much  inb 
a  patient  to  see  symptoms  and  I 
men t  with  a  perfectly  unbii 
The  time  passed  rapidly.  Js 
not  disoouraged,  when,  at  fo< 
Wirt  came  round,  and  he 
Jasper's  feeling  that  Oscar 
sinking  since  two.  He  had  < 
held  his  ground. 

*'  If  you  will  send  me  in 
to  take  these  three  beds^" 
per,  '*I  will  get  myself  some 
and  go  round  and  see  how 
is.** 

** Dinner!  **  said  the  doctor* 
you  mad,  to  have  put  off  your  ^ 
a  minute  beyond  yo^ttr  vofiai 
Do  you  suppose  we  can  do 
^c$^'{*'      And  he    ocdered 


m^m 


¥ 


Education  in  Congress. 


599 


(i>  tb#  spot,  and  sent  Jasper 
Ibe  btiilding. 

tr  g«>t  his  dmner,  aod  drove  to 
H&da^*^  but  did  not  get  an- 
Igiag  tmUetia.  He  let  Mis. 
I  give  him  a  cap  of  tea,  and 
rent  back  to  Oscar.  Aj  be 
died  the  bed,  he  aaw  one  of  the 


ladf  QQiset  was  on  dntj,  between  4G 
and  47. 

Jasper  paased  in  between  45  and  46, 
and  said,  "  I  will  relieve  yoa  now, 
madam/* 

The  norse  turned  to  thank   him, 
and  he  saw  that  it  was  Bertha, 
[To  be  eoiittaii«d.] 


EDTJCilTION  m   COXGRESa- 


DT   GEOKOS  F.  HOAB. 


the  41st  Congreas  met,  in 
V  18<>9,  the  prospects  of  edu- 
» large  part  of  the  country 
it  dtaeooraging.  The  laat 
great  amendments  to  the 
I,  by  mcaiM  of  which  the  na- 
WitJioctty  had  extended  the 
f  wilh  tri^ng  exceptions^  to 
of  foil  age,  was  about  coming 
One-fourth  of  the 
country  were  illiterate. 
next  decade,  thirty-two 
mad  one  haodied  and  four 
were  to  be  choeea 
iMie-half  of  whoee  Totiog 
tioo  had  not  knowledge  enoagli 
ntigr  or  writiBg  to  make  either 
!t*  i^l  ailrantage  in  receiving 
roying  knuwledg^.  Xotwith- 
ig  a  m^orily  of  both  hou^^ea 
tgreas  ivpfcaentod  States  that 
»eir  proaperiiy  largdy  to  com- 
diooH  ^^  ioflaenc*  of  the 
lo  be  OD  tbe  side  of 
Of  the  eiglit  bnndred 
Bil  f^ople  in  the  Tefntomsoiily 
rere  in  school  In 
imj^cthf  which  had  been  nnder 
wmf  for  a  iiTurter  of  a  ceolmy, 
ipie  hod  foled,  37  to  5,016,  not 
bUah  schools ;  and  all  efforts  to 
to  mteriefB  bad  £uled. 
hspopol^  of  93,874, 
lot  a  foUk  achoot  in  tho 


Territory*  In  the  District  of  Colum- 
bia, the  Capitol  reared  its  marble 
splendors  over  streets  crowded  with 
ignorant  and  vie  ions  children.  Nearly 
two-thir»is  of  the  children^  ninctucn 
thousand  oat  of  thirty-three  thou- 
sand, were  unprovided  with  t!»o 
tneaaa  of  attending  school ;  and  sev- 
enteen or  eigliteen  of  the  public 
schoolrooms  were  complained  of  to 
the  Board  of  Health  as  naisaoeet.  In 
nearly  all  the  rebel  Stntes,  at  the 
Democratic  party  regained  its  ascen- 
dancy, among  its  first  acts  of  power 
wae  an  act  of  hostility  to  public 
schools.  The  school maater  was  the 
special  object  of  hatred  to  the  Ka- 
klnx. 

The  Republican  statesmen  of  the 
periotl  of  reconstruction,  who  had 
seen  that  the  right  to  ?ole  was  esaen- 
tinl  to  the  protection  of  the  eotortd 
man  in  his  new  liberties,  had  been 
blind  to  the  necessity  of  making  that 
suSrage  intelligent.  The  aid  of  the 
aatioii,  which  was  extended  to  agricul- 
tme  withool  coftstitntional  scruple 
in  any  f|oarter,  was  denied  to  educa- 
tion. The  Borean  of  Agri<  *  <^«- 
ieflNiig  a  stately  boikiing.  -  <dd 
byapodoBfl  gnmnda,  with  its  costly 
of  hbontfory,  library,  mo- 
aad  hot-hoiigei|  feuiid  no  difScnl- 
ij  in  getting  aa  animl  a^^toigriatiaa 


J 


fKo 


Education  in  Congreu. 


of  one  bondred  and  fifty  tbooftand 
dollars  to  one  handred  and  saveo* 
fj-five  thousand,  and  in  circulating 
i^opies  of  iU  report  at  a  further  cost 
of  sixty  thousand  dollars  to  seventy- 
five  thousand  dollars.  The  Bureau 
of  Education,  on  the  other  hand,  was 
lodged  in  small  and  mean  apartments, 
which  a  decent  Boston  barber  would 
ecorn,  and  had  an  annual  appropria- 
tion of  six  thousand  four  hundred 
dollars.  Even  the  great  learning, 
ability,  and  zeal  of  Dr.  Barnard  could 
not,  with  the  insufificient  clerical  force 
at  his  command^  give  the  Bureau 
much  vitality. 

The  Bepublican  Committee  on 
Printing  refused  to  print  its  report ; 
and  the  Coraraittee  on  Appropnation% 
of  which  Mn  Dawes  was  chairman,  in* 
serted,  without  his  ass  en  t,  a  clause  in 
the  appropriation  bill,  abolishing  the 
Bureau  altogether.  The  active  and 
earnest  enemies  of  the  Bureau  were 
among  the  leaders  of  the  House. 
Prominent  Republicans,  representing 
States  whose  territory  hatl  been  ceded 
to  the  general  government  on  the  ex- 
press condition  that  "  schools  and 
the  means  of  education  shiiU  be  for- 
ever encouraged,"  and  which  had 
received  large  aid  from  Congress 
for  the  institutions  of  education  to 
which  their  own  prosperity  was  due, 
vied  with  one  another  in  bitter  hos- 
tility to  every  proposition  to  aid  the 
enfranchised  blacks  in  setting  up  like 
institutions  for  themselves. 

There  are  many  gratifying  indica- 
tions of  a  rapid  change  in  pyblic  sen- 
timent. Mr.  Wilson,  one  of  the  most 
intelligent  observers  of  the  best  pub- 
lic sentiment,  in  his  article  in  •*  The 
Atlantic  Monthly,"  on  the  New  Depar- 
ture, urges  upon  the  Republican  party 
the  adoption  of  a  measure  to  secure 
education  by  national  authority, 
Mr.  Ilubbardj  ju&t  Tvomm^^Oi  ^ 


governor  by  the  penitent 
of  Connecticut,  as  among  his 
for  the  great  corruptioii  b  \ht 
administration    of    the 
which  he  declares  is  so  foil  of 
bribery,  and  pecul«ktion  in  Ne» 
both  in  Uie  State  and  Fcdenl 
as  to  be  almost  putrid,  annoni 
♦♦  larger  spread  of  popular  e<i 
without  which  universal  su! 
become  a  deadly  cone/'  An 
tion  for  the  Bureau  of  Edacjitica 
twenty^^fiix  thousand  doUan  hit 
passed  the  House  without  di^ 

Tljere  have  been  two  attempt* 
vise  a  comprehensive  national 
for  the  growing  evil  of  ij 
wliich  may  deserve  to  be  rememl 
in  the  history  of  education  in  tiiis' 
try.  The  first  wa»  the  bill  kit 
in  the  House  of  liepreseutati 
the  twenty-fifth  day  of  F< 
1870,  ***to  establish  a  system 
tional  education."  The  otb«r, 
bill  which  has  passed  the  Houee  st 
present  seesion,  entitled  '^^  A  kiO 
establish  an  educational  fund,  a&Al 
apply  the  proceeds  of  tli 
to  the  education  of  the  , 

The  first  of  these  bills 
drawn  or  intri>duced  to  the  H« 
with  any  contident  expectatioti  d 
it  would  get  through  CoBgroaa 
w^as  intended  to  accomplifh 
things :  first,  by  exciting  discM 
in  Congress,  to  arouBe  the  attentaMi 
the  country  to  the  general  qi 
and,  second,  to  show^  to  those 
who  were  waging  war  on  the 
schools  in  the  South  that  a 
was  constitutional  and  \>r^  ' 
which  should  establish  ^ 
national  authority  wht-re  t 
would  not,  without  intcrft 
the  State  that  would  do  it  Kit 
If  Georgia  would  take  caiv  of 
in  this  re»peot»  ao  macb  th« 
It  &Ue  would  not,  tlte  naiion 


GOl 


tob*« 

•  iataffMe.  he  om  tSm 

«r  tfce  Ml  «M   oT) 
8ta(^  iBrtfirt.  ^ 

to  W  ap-  •«■    ^Mk  8ti*B  w31  hm  CPtitU  to 
Ae  «1bde  ontrr.  with   il»  •&«»  «f  ti^  < 


totW 


ifthr 


csMsy 


C02 


Education  in  Congress. 


Legislature  theroftfler,  shall  Imve  en- 
gaged that  it  will  provide  by  law  for 
the  free  education  of  all  its  children 
between  the  ages  of  six  and  fiixteen^ 
and  will  applj  all  moneys  which  it 
shall  receive  under  this  act  in  accord- 
ance with  its  conditions. 

After  the  first  distribution,  each 
State  will  receive  its  sliaro  which  has 
complied  with  the  following  condi- 
tions :  — 

First,  It  shall  hare  made  the  pro- 
Yision  for  the  education  of  ite  children 
required  us  above. 

Second;  It  shall  have  applied  all 
moneys  by  it  previousjly  received, 
under  this  act,  in  accordance  there- 
with. 

Third,  It  shall,  through  the  proper 
oiEcer  thereof,  for  the  year  ending 
the  thirtietli  day  of  June  last  pre* 
ceding  such  apportionment,  make  full 
report  of  the  number  of  schools  free 
to  all  the  children  thereof,  the  number 
of  teachers  employed,  the  number  of 
pchoolliouaes  owned,  and  the  number 
of  school- teach  era  hired;  the  total 
number  of  children  taught  diu*iugtbe 
year,  the  daily  attendance,  and  the 
number  of  months  of  the  yearstdiools 
shall  have  been  maintained  in  each 
of  tlie  several  school  districts,  or 
divisions  of  said  State,  Territory,  or 
District,  and  the  amounts  appropri- 
ated by  the  Legislature  for  the  purpose 
of  maintaining  a  system  of  free  pub- 
lic schools. 

These  sums  are  to  be  distributed 
by  the  State  among  its  school  districts 
in  either  of  three  prescribed  ways,  as 
it  shiill  think  lit,  and  to  be  applied 
only  to  the  payment  of  teachers  of 
couimon  8chool>»,  except  that  a  sura 
not  exceeding  fifty  per  cent  the  first 
year,  and  ten  afterwards,  may,  in  the 
discretion  of  the  State,  be  applied  to 
the  payment  of  teachers  of  schools 
for  the  education,  oi  te«tfi\a^ts* 


Few  readers  of  this 
any  explanation  or 
satisfy  them  that  the  object 
by  this  bill  is  of  vast  itn] 
They  will  be  more  likely  I 
whether  it  will  be  effi*cteil 
it  will  have  very  great  jiowi 
accomplishment  of  two  moit 
results. 

First,  it  will  put  an  end  to 
of  the  public  lands.  It  i^  t 
the  right  of  Cangress  to  q 
disposition  of  them  in  futtiii 
sees  fit  is  expres^^ly  reserve 
gress  could  not  be  bound  ii 
spect  by  any  legislative  en 
But  when  this  bill  is  law,  \ 
plication  for  a  land-grant  wt 
with  the  objection,  **  You  ;m^ 
ing  that  we  give  you  a  paj 
school -fund,^^  and  will  enooi 
powerful  opposition  of  thoe( 
in  every  State,  who  arc  inra 
protecting  that  fiin<h  Ol 
Congress,  although  it  haaca 
the  proceeds  of  these  lanii 
education  of  the  people,  n| 
after  vary  the  moile  or  cond 
its  application  to  this  objfl 
course,  any  policy  which  dt 
these  lands  as  property  ni 
way  before  that  which  tM 
as  parts  of  territory  of 
tion,  the  future  dwell iag-pli| 
citizen.  Ko  desire  to  applj 
ceeds  of  the  sales  of  land  ei 
sacred  an  object  as  the  eda( 
the  people  should  for  a  motu 
fliet  with  the  interest  of  til 
or  that  of  the  future  Stat^ 
create. 

Second,  I  think  the  bill  t 
great  effect  in  aceompHshing 
great  purpose  which  it 
avows,  of  stimulating  the  { 
ment  of  common  achoob^ 
they  are  needed. 
Tq  accomplish   tliia,  it 


Education  in  Congress.  603 

ntalities;  first,   direct  pecu-  Virginia, 78,789.}9 

;  second,  the  powerfdl  stim-  ^^^^  Virginia,  ....    14,897.28 

%  noble  and  generous  ema-  Kentucky 68.69ft.50 

icited   by   an   authoritetire  ^'«rth  CSaroUna,     .    .    .     70,271.82 

bich  wOl  show  the   relative  JTkT^i- l^.tlTr 

1-1-         ^     ^  .1.     j.i.  South  CaroLna, .    .    .    .    61,608.97 

accomplishment  of  the  dif.  ^^^^       ^^'^^^^ 

-Ates  m    respect    to    public  Alabama, 67,C78.2i 

.    What  State,  which  should  Floridm,         12.687.69 

>m  such  a  report  to  be  lowest  Miwissippi, 66,861.88 

s  regards  the  education  of  MiMoori,       89,800.02 

?n,  would  fail  to  exert  itself  Arkansas, 23,661.00 

rent  of  its  power  to  remove  ijouLoana, 48.797.12 

a?  Texa^            89.174.92 

ndi^-buUdtoanyStateuB.  J^T         :    .'    !    [    '.    *''S 

11  wdl  be  small;  enough  only  Mj«Bachn«ett«,  .    .     .    .    17,271.01 

» seed-corn.     No  person  need  Maine,          8,366.49 

a  school-fund  will  be  created  Ohio,            30,699.49 

igh  to  render  the  people  of  Rhode  Island,    ....       3.878.44 
I  indifferent  to  their  schools,  ^«^  Mexico,     ....       9.227.27 
gs  that  cost  them  nothing.  It  will   be  observed   that   it   will 
even  fiscal  years  beginning  yield   to   Delaware,    Maryland,    and 
864,  and   ending  June  3,  Kentucky,  where  the  straggle  for  the 
area  of  the  public  lands  public  instruction  of  the  colored  peo- 
9,066,110.10  acres.     Cash  pie  has  been  hardest,  the  wery  stiuu* 
therefor,     $13,238,741.04.  lus  needed  to  overcome  tlie  opi>o»i» 
on    aoooant  of   same,   in-  tion.     It  will  be  seen  that  about  four- 
he   contingent  expenses  of  fifths  of  tlie  money  would  go  to  tho 
land  offices,  the  salaries  and  Southern   Statetk,   where   it   i«    most 
ins    of    registers,    expenses  needed. 

ly  inclnding  salaries  and  ex-  Some  of  the  wisest  aud  motet  ohu- 

'  the    General  Land   Office,  tious   of   the    Iiepubii«*aii    stuiesincii 

163^7^4,  leaving  a  balance  agree     with     the     leading     ixThoii.-^ 

^4.30.     It  is  expected,  on  throughout    the    country    who   have 

us  good  authority,  that  the  studied  most  deeply  the  iustrumeii- 

ft   proceeds    may   hereafter  talities    which   stimulate  activity  in 

to  two    millions    annually,  eritablishiug  schools,  in  believing  that 

oig  one  million  of  dollarB  to  this  sum,  though   bo  small,  will  have 

ent  States, /iro  rata  ;  on  the  a  very  great  etl'ect. 

lliteracj,  using  the  number,  Judge    Sheilabarj»er  of  Ohio,   one 

old  and  over,  reported   un-  of  the  moMt  intiueutiul  meu    in    the 

rite,  as  msoertained  by  tlie  House,  said  in  hid  spoech  in  favor  of 

US,  would   give    to  the   fol-  the  bill,  that  hiri  deHire  to  speak  came 

tates     and   Territories    the  from  an  ambition  to  connect  his  name 

ftgaixut  their  names  respec-  with  so  iin}>ortuiit  a   measure.     Mr. 

Da  wets,  seldom  enthusiastic.  re|>eated 

^ $4,081.77  ^^*®   statement,  —  **  The  ambition  ex- 

d, t8.942.G7  pressed  by  the  gentleman   from  Ohio, 

.     6,074.66  in  which  I  couleae  L  mu  %  iiU«wt)  nXuo 


604 


Education  in  CongrtM. 


ambition  to  connect  one's  name  with 
BO  beci^ficeut  a  measare,'^  Got. 
Blair  of  Michigan,  one  of  the  wiseet 
and  clearest  heads  in  the  Hoose,  said, 
*^  The  great  advantage  of  the  measuna 
will  appear,  after  all,  not  so  much  in 
the  amount  of  assistance  rendered, 
for  that  will  not  be  great,  as  in  the 
inducement  it  will  give  for  local  effort 
It  will  form  the  ground-work  of  a 
Bchool  system  where  there  is  none, 
and  will  greatly  encourage  those  who 
are  struggling  with  weak  beginnings 
without  active  sympathy  in  their 
localities. 

The  experience  of  our  Northern 
States  shows  how  powerful  has  been 
such  a  slight  aid  in  exciting  local 
effort;  the  opinion  of  those  persons 
who  have  devoted  their  lives  to  the 
cause  of  education,  and  who  have 
specially  studied  the  influences  which 
are  moj^t  efficient  to  this  end. 

Most  of  the  superintendents  of 
schools  for  the  States  and  for  the 
principal  cities  were  consulted  as  to 
the  details  of  the  biQ ;  nearly  all  of 
them  think  it  will  do  the  greatest 
good. 

Dr.  Sears,  agent  of  the  Peabody 
Fund,  and  the  highest  authority  in 
this  country  on  this  special  point,  says, 
in  a  letter  to  the  writer,  "  The  bill 
is  an  admirable  one,  and  will  be 
heartily  welcomed  in  all  the  South. 
.  .  The  greatest  obstacle  is  in  the 
inability,  not  merely  the  unwillingness, 
of  the  whole  people  to  tax  them- 
selves heavily  enough  to  educate  the 
blacks.  With  such  a  bill  as  yours 
(becoming  a  law),  and  with  the  aid  of 
the  Peabo<Jy  Fund^  though  small,  the 
l^eople  would  have  heart  to  take  hold 
of  tlie  work.  My  knowledge  on  this 
subject  is  positive  and  definite.  I 
have  seen  the  leading  friend;^  of  educa* 
tion  in  twelve  States/' 

Some  pecsona  wouii  \iave  ^t^t^^T^d 


that  the  whole  proceeds  ef 
of  land  should  be  distribttl 
of  QsiQg  one-half  to  create 
Dent  ftmd.  But  thi*  nnhH^ 
be  solii  and  settled 
It  eeema  scarcely  jo.,  -_.  :1j 
of  this  magni^cent  propeftf 
be  expended  for  the  ceceM 
single  generation,  and  ngdij 
show  for  it  to  the  future.  ' 
is  deeply  settled  in  tlie  hem 
American  people,  that  th 
lands  of  the  nation  are  \h 
mouy.  Every  laboring-man 
anxiously  forward  to  see 
future  has  in  store  for  hii 
his  children,  takes  c^imforti 
knowledge  that  there  is,  in  i 
west,  with  stimulant  climiii 
tile  soil,  with  infinite  fidi 
and  iron  below^  and  in 
above,  a  vast  region 
dren,  and  his  children's  cRtl 
have  for  themselves  a  boi 
freehold.  No  price  shoal< 
upon  that  homestead  for 
sacred  pnrpoee  than  the  edi 
the  children.  In  these  li 
seems  but  fair  that  oomta 
tions  should  have  their  pail 

Such  a  fund,  once  establi 
attract   to  itself  large  iticd 
private  benefactions.     The 
perfect  statistics   which 
has  been  able  to  gather  oi 
ject,  show  that  the  gifts 
persons  to  education  iu  tl 
during  the  past  year  anioiaj 
533,760.     This  includea  q( 
money,  and  only  such   larg 
are  specially  reported  in  t{| 
pers.      The   subscriptions 
charitable     organ  ieatioti% 
American      missionary    a 
collections  made   iu  churci 
subscription  papers,  are  ti^ 

A  well-admLnistered 
^UI  attract  man/  such  gifta 


The  Old 


M& 


»   ftf>qiiently 
fftmik 

Btpetml  and 

\    of  kxiovMfey  Ehotj, 

mte.     What  ^ai 

tilts  Mbjeet  koMftn;    all  tte 
depead  largdif  oai  t^ 


OLD  GEAIQLA^  MASTERS  ADDfiESS  TO  MAY. 

[       O  Mat!  the  dnngefoljtw'aPotutnl  Mood t 

!        Tlioii  majef^  mail  eaiut  b«  lieaiitifiai  bimI  bim^ 

^^  And  smile  wHii  teadenheaa  iacAlUa; 

^^B  And  thou  caaat  afao^  in  tiif  wajwvdikea% 

^B  B^  dhz^lfy  dun,  and  diagmeabla 

1^  Aa  an  J  little  qoeen  mj  achootRMoa  liolds. 

^^  Them  mayest  and  canai  lipeii  to  sanmer  UooiSy 

^K  And  to  the  golden  glow  of  aatnimt,  when 

^^The  sap  of  Matf  tarns  to  the  jaice  of  mttar/ 

•        ThoQ  majesty  alas !  and  wilt,  when  nature  irtlte| 

L        Be  changed  into  Decembei^s  iciness. 

I        Bat  now  thou  majesty  and  all  the  worid  goes  Maying; 

The  little  lads  and  lasses  sallj  forth, 

To  see  if  an  j  flowers  may  chance  to  be 
^        In  fields  where  Winter^  lingering,  chills  thj  lap. 
\        Mj  little  May,  too,  trips  along  with  them  ; 
I        May,  and  her  little  can  to  hold  h«r  flowers, 

PShe^  too,  in  the  potential  mood  of  life. 
At  eve,  what  troopa  of  lovers  saunter  forth ! 
^Sld  some  will  eanju^atey  and  some  decline: 
Ibl  are  they  all  found  in  the  optaitpe  mood 
(Meaning  to  wish  or  hope,  desire  or  choose)  ; 
Bot  If  poor  man,  have  ran  through  all  the  moods 
Of  that  strange  verb  called  Life,  which  signifies 
To  be,  to  do,  to  suffer,  or  enjoy  ; 
And  soon  beneath  yon  tmf,  ntpifie,  ahall  li^ 
And  wait  to  be  translated  to  the  sky.  C.  T«  B. 


606  Mouna  Lisa. 

MOUNA  LISA. 

LOUYRBy  187L 

Wait  bat  one  moment 

I  will  tell  you  alL 

You  will  not  wait  ? 

Then  go  I    But  when  I  call, 

When,  turning  round. 

You  catch  my  eye, 

Which  never  leaves  you, 

Though  you  try 

To  look  at  Mary 

With  her  cherubs  there, 

At  Catherine,  or  Europa, 

Or  even  at  Her, 

Young  Raphael's  Virgin, 

You  will  come  to  me. 


You  cannot  choose, 
Or  even  linger, 
Lest  you  lose 
One  word  I  say. 
When  the  dim  smil^ 
Breaks  into  words, 
Which  all  this  while 
Youhiive  been  wi*itmfl 


St)e  €xam\ntt. 


Tsi  passiiig  under  leTiew  the  pablications  of  the  time,  we  feeU 
ith  eTeiy  months  thmt  the  part  of  them  which  is  intended  for 
m  moet  sensitiTe  natures,  and  which,  indeed,  for  good  or  evil,  may 
a  expected  to  have  the  longest  sway,  is  the  part  which  is  most  sore 
» escape  thooghtfdl  and  severe  examination. 

It  is  the  whole  body  of  children's  books,  a  sabdivision  of  liters- 
ire,  we  might  almost  say  of  fiction,  which  has  grown  np  within 
le  memory  of  our  fathers  and  mothers,  and  has  reached  alarmii^ 
niportions.  They  are  alarming  both  as  to  quality  and  quantity,  be- 
nse  this  class  of  books  has  not  increased  under  the  same  conditiiHis 
i  other  books ;  and  especially  because  it  has  not  the  safeguard  of 
■Uic  criticism.  The  public  for  whom  these  books  are  prepared  le- 
■ire  incident,  familiar  style,  and  elements  of  interest ;  but  as  to  the 
roth,  or  inherent  value  of  a  book,  they  are  not  reliable  judges, 
tence,  a  book  may  be,  and  often  is,  popular,  when  of  a  very  low 
rder  of  merit.  Indeed,  the  standard  of  all  popularity  is  such  as  to 
■ke  one  di>ubt  the  real  value  of  what  obtains  the  loudest  praise. 

Wiih  children  a  book  becomes  popular  in  proportion  as  one  boy  or 
id  says  to  another  that  it  is  a  ^  jolly  book/*  or  a  **  bully  book.** 
b  matter  how  untrue  to  life  the  picture  may  be,  no  nutter  how 
lae  the  statement  of  facts  in  science  or  history,  no  master  how  poor 
le  style  or  improbable  the  incidents,  —  the  child  cannot  judge  of 
me  things.  If  bools  have  a  certain  dash  in  plot  and  execution, 
ley  are  certain  to  be  sncceasfhL  No  one  of  mature  jucL^ent  reads 
lem,  unless  it  be  the  publisher's  agent  to  decide  whecher  they  will 
ly.  Now,  publishers  are  so  far  business-men  as  to  look  after  their 
m  interests ;  and  we  could  not  fairly  expect  to  liod  them  philan- 
on^Hts  and  reformers,  to  think  of  the  chiUien's  ^riatj^^  rather 
AH  their  own.  They  must  print  books  that  will  selL  Authors, 
Oi,  who  loEve  to  cam  their  bread,  must  write  Uwks  chat  will  selL 
ben,  too,  sany  who  have  fuled  to  please  grown  |MopIe,  their  at- 
Bpte  hjtfiiig  been  unmercifully  ridiculed  bj  «oaae  reviewer.,  know 
mt  m  Hm  jsvcsile  field  they  have  little  to  fear  fin»  that  aooree^ 


608  The  Examiner, 

and  confidently  write  for  children ;  thus  bringing  infx>  the  iD&rla 
flood  of  silly,  weak,  and  every  way  poor  and  unsuitable  boi 
This  is  the  yellow-covered  literature  of  the  youthful  public ;  bol 
fortunately,  it  is  always  in  attractive  binding,  and  has  no  od^ 
sign  to  distinguish  it. 

How  lias  all  this  come  about  since  the  days  of  our  grandmoti 
whose  library  might  be  counted  on  one's  fingers  ?  The  interval 
tween  ^'  Mother  Goose "  and  **  Pilgrim^s  Progress  '*  was  brie 
over,  chiefly,  by  *'  Jack  and  the  Bean-stalk,"  "  Aladdin,*'  *^  Cin 
ella/'  and  other  nursery  classics.  There  were,  perhaps,  besides, " 
Adventures  of  Robinson  Crusoe,**  and  a  collection  of  poen 
eluding  the  history  of  Mother  Hubbard.  AU  these  were  n^ 
and  thrown  aside  to  give  way  to  the  next  new  book.  The 
literally  read  to  pieces.  They  were  supplemented^  perh 
grandmamma's  stories,  as  the  dear  old  lady  gathered  the 
about  her  in  the  twilight,  a  loving  group,  who  listened  entrau 
she  lived  over  with  them  her  past,  or  told  them  of  Joseph 
coat  of  many  colors,  or  little  Samuel,  and  other  Bible  cha 
of  whom  most  children  nowadays,  in  spite  of  the  Sunday  achoo| 
never  heard. 

This  loving  influence,  and  the  gentle  lessons  which  were 
of  her  tales,  are  lost  to  this  ganemtion,  and  the  affection  which 
intercourse  strengthened  has  lost  this  common  lx>nd.  For  gi 
mamma  and  story-telling  are  out  of  date,  and  children  may  easil] 
pense  with  both ;  for  does  not  every  child  learn  to  read  ?  and  are  1 
not  always  new  story-books?  To  be  sure,  grandmamma  o^i 
patronized  and  listened  to  as  a  favor,  as  we  are  tauijht  in  : 
Fashioned  Girl ;  '*  for  young  America,  in  its  superiority,  can  affa 
be  condescending.  It  has  not  read  for  nothing  of  the  de 
saints,  who,  by  their  good  example  and  pious  precepts,  in  sea 
out  of  season »  have  brought  to  entire  reformation  an  irritable  \ 
or  a  dissipated  father,  and  have  thus  acquired  an  overweening! 
of  importance  and  superiority  over  the  adults  of  the  family j 
faults  they  have  thus  been  trained  to  see. 

If  the  child's  conversation  be  more  fluent  than  elegant,  in 
new  book  you  may  find  all  these  slang  words  and  phrases  ;  **  £bi 
not  an  author  make  his  children  talk  in  the  language  of  come 
and  not  **stUtedly  ?'*  as  if  the  language  of  the  street  were 
standard  of  the  parlor. 

So,  if  your  little  girl  is  vain  of  her  long  curls  or  her  nei 
you  may  find  that  her  last  story-book  dilates  upon   the  heij 
pretty  blue  eyea  and  ftaxe^Ti  ^Toa\%^  ^ud  describes  her  as 


1  ana 


dre^ 


The  Ezamin&r, 


coy 


oecasiOQs«  aU  ia  the  latest  fasbioa.     CTiiUreu  are  apt  to  be 

adventore  ;  and  their  fas^iaatin^  authors  carry  them  over  sea 

adt  and  show  them  woader^  of  every  uatioa.     They  survive 

accidents,  and  dangers  are  averted  by  before  unheard-of 

More  wonderful  thiiu  fairy  tales^  they  yet  assume  to  be  true. 

waa*  too*  a  dinger  good  Miss  Edgeworth  could  not  foreaee* 

le  toaugurated  stories  of  lumple  child-life,  where  a  model  girl 

1  up  for  admiration,  and  a  wicked  one  for  condemnatioh. 

^  J — o^nvorthy  notion,  but  it  opened  a  flood-gate^  and  the  flood 

imgovemable*     Every  one  saw  and  seized  such  opportunity ; 

ly  of  fiction  was  used  to  render  palatable  medicines  of  every 

[Each  sect  wrote  stories  inculcating  its  own  peculiar  tenets. 

ace  societies  published  vivid  pictures  of  the  evils  of  intem- 

,  —  mere  police  cases  in  an  interesting  garb,  adapted  to  a  child's 

ijnsioa,  and  introducing  him  to  scenes  wliich  are  a  shock  to  his 

and  a  terror  to  his  imagination. 
» these  effects,  —  to  coarseness,  vaaity,  and  conceit,  —  the  rest* 
land  superficiality  which  are  always  too  great  a  characteristic  of 
Little  bojrs,  in  emulation  of  some  favorite  hero,  tie  up 
cerchief  a  few  clothes  and  photographs  and  a  Bible,  and 
^  to  be  caught  the  next  morning  and  brought  ignominiously 
young  men,  whom  these  tales  have  rendered    irapa- 
atid  restraint,  become  idle  rovers  and  a  lasting  grief  to 
les. 
eao  no  lon^r  consider  a  child  safe  from  harm  when  he 
>k  in  his  hand,  nor  think  the  power  to  read  an  unmltigatetl 
[  For  toa  many  children  it  proves  far  otlierwise  ;  for  unspeaka- 
Ihan  the  bookj  we  have  been  condemning,  are  those  which 
fall  into  the  hands  of  the  poor  and  uncultivated ;  cb^ap 
fall  of  moral  poison.     Their  exterior  generally  indicates 
^«haraeter,  and  we  carefully  keep  them  from  our  children. 
a  well,  that  respectable  covers  are  not  eqtJaily  an 
relied  upon,  and  that  their  contents  must  be  examined 


I  in  the  right  direction  has  been  taken,  though  the  influ- 

,  eserl  is  limited,  in  an  effort  to  raise  the  standard  of  Sun- 

librsriea.    They  had  long  been  collected  with  little  care  ; 

were  often  made  of  any  u^w  volumes  which  might  be  sent 

OQ  a  boolcaeller«  and  they  were  little  above  the  level  of  m 

g  libfmr^.     And  thoa,  what  should  have  been  a  valuable 

to  tbe  good  influence  of  the  school*  and  worthy  oC  aU.  c^n* 

,  oad  beecNoe  a  niems  of  ffiaaeminating  wofftUeaa  \jooVa,  axa 


rut]   s>unaay  acnooia.     xney  nave  mauo  verr  un 

ginning  by  endeavoring  to  obtain  and  examine  ei 
extant.  During  the  firat  two  years  of  their  service*! 
nineteen  hundred  volumes,  of  which  only  five  hundj 
tlnee  were  approved.  To  appreciate  the  amoij 
must  be  known  that  every  book  required  two 
rejections  were  nece^ssary  to  set  a  book  aside  ; 
upon  the  li^t  must  have  been  read  by  five  ladies,  ail) 
were  required,  —  often,  where  opinions  varied,  by  ^ 

The  next  two  years,  nine  hundred  and  fifty-fiv^ 
and  only  two  hundred  and  eighty-six  accepted; 
thirds  being  the  proportion  of  worthless,  unsuitably 
objectionable  books.     Unsuitable,  too,  not  for  Saa 
but  for  children ;   for  the  list  is  subdivided,  and 
upon  it  books  considered  valuable  in  themselv^ 
religious  influence  or  tendency. 

Last  year,  few  were  found,  except  the  pubi 
which  had  not  been  examined;  and  it  is  a  st 
the  poor  quality  of  current  literature  to  find  that 
dred  and   thirty-two  books  examined,  only 
mended ;  eighty-two  per  cent  being  reject ed» 

It  is  a  constant  wonder  how  so  many  poor 
published.     The  only  explanation  is  in  the  low  st 
lie,  —  the  publishers  provide  what  will  sell.     Yet,  < 
them  this  excuse,  there  is  none  for  some  of  the  tricl 


h€  Ruhdiydt  of  Omar  MJkmfjfdm. 


611 


itioD  could  only  be  practised   with  joTentle  book^  wliieh  come 
le  under  public  notice ;  mnd  onlj  by  enposmg  such  ^naicCic 
^y  impartial  and  general  criydsizLr  aft  of  all  otber  books,  can 
it  pemicious  influence  of  dsildrSsi^s  literatcne  be  cbedcad> 
!  hare  attempted^  in  ibe  verr  linoted  qpaoe  we  ooisld  gtre 
and  analyzing  of  the  deluge  of  ddldrexi'a  bookftt  Ub  mnoM^^ 
[alight  seme  in  the  minds  of  tbeir  amhon  that  thej  abo  are  oo- 
domain  of  eri  deism. 

our  special  wish  »  to  eaB  Ibe  aCS£iitifi«  of  dbose  jcmmals 
are  particnlarlj  estabKAed  ftr  liie  benefit  of  dnldiegi,  —  th« 
of  educatioQ,  the  Suadar-adMnl  jfwnfial*,  sod  ibe  cfatldreii^s 
I — to  the  ahaoliile  umicwitj  of  m 
of  all  the  pabfieatma  wldeb,  br 

ToUej  after  ToOeT,  into  tbe  iMoeeni  faaks   of 


IUBAITJLt  of  OMAB  KHAT*   e^ifiS 

of  irar  talk  mhovl 
B^  In  its  waj.     It  ai 
,  wa  iatteria^  it  it  to  aer 
aopsioT^  ^Tfrtfcace,  ta  a^aai 
te  tho«e  of  Tmm^Hmkmf  a 

Imlj  pvtaa  of  «tha  '^Ok^m^thm 
Tbt   ■' Mil  ill  af    igUU 

r  of  hmBam  «|t 
f  lie  Boat  fatt  aid  l««tf    fibe 


Thajr 


af  it  ano- 
die  iOaff  of  tbe  hnj 

le  laaa  ifcuining   pU^    Wm  patsod  mm  Ae  bCne  Uf 
df  rh»i  ifilaveiitii  aaieitvj.     Eaaa  in  tbe 


619 


The  Bubitigat  af  Omar 


wkb  ft 
kalf  of 

fiuune  twmght  oo  bj  t]ac« 
ofdmiglit.  Thanee  —  tbst 
ftbitiactiMi  —  ^sadTBiieed,iiDdb«bt| 
bist  Pessa,  —  wlukt  of  her? 

Tlie  eoQliait  b  oolj  bdgbtuieii  if 
liar  Uie  other  lena  cdT  ma  mndibefis 
W0  take  »  nodi  »dier  pexiod  ia  h^r 
History.  Bmiaen  thinks  tkit  tbe 
dale  of  Zorauterf  £»ed  bj  Aiialolle 
^pottEs  neson  jnau  f^nro 
i  jesa  beflwe  tibe  eteotioa  of 
tho  world !),  is  ]ii3t  inmtiqnal.  But 
IIm  Feisift  that  could  piodaee  a  Zo- 
loatler  anist  hafo  been  tttfinitelj 
Mperior  to  tiio  Perm  of  ta-^j — 
IbiOQgh  sodi  iniglity  specet  does  the 
pettdnlam  of  progyera  irmg ! 

The  poetfj  of  Omar  Kbajram  has 
had  tDQcb  lew  fiMiie  ia  tbe  west  tbaa 
that  of  Firdiui  and  Saadi  aad  Ha&i; 
bat  maiol/f  it  must  be,  became  Ibeie 
baa  been  lesa  knowiedge  of  il  He  ia 
4)Qtt6  able  to  match  the  strongest* 
wiDged  of  those  great  singets  in  bis 
^gbts.  Bot  until  the  present  trans- 
latioo  was  made,  which  only  eon  tains 
one  hundred  and  ten  quatrains,  he 
was  almost  inaoeeasible  to  the  Eng- 
glish  reader.  Smeieon  had  £:iund  bim 
out,  and  giren  us  a  taste  of  his  fpuditj, 
bot  not  a  moathful,  and  etill  le®  a 
meal.  Kow  a  fi^ist  is  spread  ;  not  an 
enormous  one  tn  size,  bot  a  delkioos 
one  in  qualitj.  He  has  been  Teiy 
£»rtunate  tn  hU  translator,  who  has 
rendered  bim  into  English  verse 
which  reaUjr  sings.  We  should  al- 
meet  suspect  that  the  translator  is 
more  than  the  poet,  but,  fortonatelj, 
a  French  translation  has  been  made 
of  ioxxT  hundred  and  sixty-four  stanzas 
hy  M.  Nicolas,  French  Consul  at 
Beacht ;  and  this  traik&Va'don  y^tv^xa 


Hm  it 

Wt 
of 

tbe 

«f 

~  Urn 
wvUmmtfeblkalfoftM 
aadfiad  in  tbe  fosa  ^ 
twtUlk  oaatarj.  Tbia  pi 
MitesT^  after  Fbdaai,  a  < 
fine  Saafi,  and  UiTitt  eifit 
Hai&  Tbe  atej  of  b 
jntA  of  iis  intTffetf  from 
tioB  with  twn 
Om  of  Oieae  wna  Ki 
tha  otlbar  Haisa  Baa 
Tkeae,  with  Ootar,  were  p«f 
Imim  Mmafidc.  One 
said  to  the  edwis^  **It  ti 
belkf  that  iba  pa^da  of  Ii 
taia  ta  fbrtmeu  Koar, 
dooot 

one  of  nawiDi 
baooranm^  pMga 
Tbej  aasweftd,  **  Wlat  ja 
<'WeDri»esaid»''kt 
that  to  whomaoarer  A 
be  shall  ahare  it  aqpaE^ 
rest,  aadreaerra  no 
hinMll*'  ^'Ba  ft  aoi,^ 
others. 

The  frieiids  were 
rolled  oig,  and  at  length  Hi 
CO  be  risier  imder  the  S 
Ardin.  Anon  both  frienA 
claimed  a  afaare  in  his  goo 
Xizam  kept  his  wont 
ceired  a  place  in  the  got 
but,  discooteDted  with  a  gn 
became  au  intriguer, 
and  fell.  Ailcr  maaj 
wanderings,  he  became  the 
paHy  of  fa&atiesy  —  tbs  1 
\3«X(]Kt  >c&fitWTw  *%&  the 


Tht  Bmbmydt  of  Omar  Ehagydm. 


61S 


»j  i*  SKied  die  '!asde  of 

ir.-i  ±<aiL  Toi:?  iHJixzicun  jome 

Lis  *t3  ceTebRTT  amons  die 

&$  tae^OIii  Kin  ot  the 

kasKiiia  vnria.  One  •)€ 
j»fi$  rfiTtzim  of  aia  <iag*;er 

£s«>  irame  tn  die  Tiziec 
b:«9C  Man  jna  lan  <:oii&r  >in 
L'iL  •  is  5ti  let  me  live  in  a 
'ifr  ^ne  mado^  of  yoiir  fi)r- 
pcHOfti  wide  die  jiivanrai^efi 
:  .uut  paT  d)r  yoiir  loiii; 
'v^otaizY.'*  Hl»  cpfi^nest  ;ii- 
Ki:»^L  He  rw!Pive<l  ;i  ^pn- 
Kiia.  aad  Li  vet  l  at  «!niirr. 
Lmaeif  si  .idtEnnomy  .iiui 
L  :zRiciaft  of  uiA  on  riijreiici 
teen  TTanitiitfeii  inm  Fmnch. 
ne  of  •tiuhc  leazned  meaa* 
rabcn  die  <:aieniiar:  .uiii 
«Ly^  <T!bbon.  woB  x  meriii^ 
}TizsiCiin  ■*  wtiicii  -inrnaMeai 
.  lad  JnnxniifJiifa  difr  'im- 

J*  inenrr.  mr  Ins  wienie. 
»  Inin  lun^sKiniuf  r'nr  ul 
ie!a!7  if  lu   niutiuron.    Jur 

Ul  die  imnienu  if  att». 
L  dinicry  ntr  diat.  !J!i#* 
m.  jf^  I.  *mn£nAn^r    na».ic 

If*.       '*nrae    init    lan    -nilim 

a^  -'die  -MiuUfAT  >r    ul    idui 

Bi    uut  .utfor  T^M     .mAT 

ITift^ifi  .v«v4  im  Xfcr   uti- 

fr  •^u*^  in*  ^  nn/-ri  ,«f*'<H'^ 
zn.  2unr  la*  ai  'tfnsiv-  «n 
■wn  .miu^  acfTAv,  tnuU»-» 
— lu?  ttUiViif-r:   ii»t*»ui^   t,i-r' 

.im.:iuf.ii*Ml#r'  nim:     .i^ 

UUtSllOHfe    41     ttfr     «rf,.'.:^.      t 


be  on  che  Mxe  !«tie.  Onutf  i*  »*>(• 
pinckj.  -*  Lee  u  irnk,  for  C4>«iar> 
mw  we  riie !  "*    He  tftys  nnthiag  abiMt 

'  Ah.  my  Iviovwl '  ilU  the  ab^  cImu  rtif 
Tii-^AV  tit  ruu£  m^m  tfid  Aiam  Aan. 
Tt-mBrmm !  —  Whr,  n-flKMnnw  I  aaf  le 


Ami  .i4(iun :  — 

*  \nd  '.MSBiv  'ir  rlut 
Cjoob   •Hiiniiii;  ;Jimii||li  chft  •Uull.  tm 

Spann((  .i  >.^*«i^l  m  Uu  -ihonhliKr .  Mil 

He  'ml  .ii«  roBUi    u'  it,    iMit  'nPM —  dw 

-'  Tlie  ^mufi  rh«t  •an  ivitti  liHpt*-  AluMlnsk 

T!ift  invnmicn  4i4«h«»mi«t,  dtar  in  4  ortM 
LatV.i  iawlMi  imtAl  .mn  .inliC  rwiw— iiiwi 

X    »lMMn^  >fit  tllAlllft  ilM  it,  «lfMllft    Wi  Afkf* 

And  .f  .i.<*nfMt,  ¥hy  ;1m4I,  iVIia  wt  ii  rliam  *  '* 

yL  Slcnhin,  'Vtttti^*  0^»s%iii%U  r«>;^iu^ 
.xUiir.  it-it'Tnnu  "4»  ^\***  i.  iUV>i&iuU -vvti^ 
tfTtiirnnn  '4i  \in  uuvtuii  ulii  rtiBtfart 
^f»TRfs«  it*  UM  jom:  mi:  lim  «ii4tniWK 
iniurtr  u¥  iii<r/)Mra«^itc|,  >}'•«  nuOi  'VitK"- 
^riTUTrion  .«  vi^MiitiH  vjlinni:  '(4>tki^ 
Ul     ufiniitir;    It'    *  nUtiuw    ^litiir   itii^ir. 

T^    it'     IIT*T    tr^Tp^Ikfii         illit     IV.^fU^ 

uirUt/irf  <i  — '  vii«»  l.'!iJ»n*  .«  7»««jij\» 
!>■  tM'tft'  n  •.  l-wt  irtiifT  aJ  'iMt  uu*- 
•«--r#».    If  it    I    k   Ml*  •.  iMtrrU  i«ti»i'.      li; 

);    o.A*   i.^n;    Mil    am  #fiA*  Ur  MU  im» 

.A    i*t   /M#   «f.v   ff  ,«.  -tMr;*!  -twiltf. 

"jit  y^^M-   A«v  ijf.     M^-  ifHAt.   inr  m^*- 

*  ft-ft    ?.i»t    f/trrfMf    -rtiiH    n^-  iOi    td»   fc%- 


614 


The  SuhdiytU  of  Omar  Khoffim, 


The  incidenUl  be»ut)«i  of  di»  p^ 
em  are  not  few.     It  l»t  m  heAntm 
and   vigor^  sach   ma  gttaX  wqAm  of 
genius  only  posseas. 
"  I  iOfDCtinio  think  thu  never  hkomt  m  nd 
The  rote,  ■§  when  womt  buried  Cmamrhh^ ; 
Tb«t  erery  byachitli  the  gaxdcn  w«sm 
Dropped  in  her  lap  6om  iO«ae  once  lowij 
beid. 
**  And  thii  delichtfu]  berb,  whose  Uring  gtf«a 
Fledges  ifae  rirer'g  lip  on  which  we  lenn^ 
Ah,  I^n  ttpan  it  lighiJy!  for  who  knowi 
From  what  once  lovelj  tip  it  springi  sb* 
i<«n!'* 
He  speaks  of  altempU  to  unravel 
"the   master  Imot  of  htiman  fate,*' 
and  of  his  ill  success :  — 
'*  Then  wis  the  door,  to  which  I  fonnd  no 
key. 
There  was  the  reil,  through  wbicb  I  ooald 

not  tec. 
Some  iiule  talk  a  while  of  J/«  and  7%e» 
Then  was^ — and  then  no  mon  ef  Ties 
and  J/e. 
"Earth  could  not  antirer;  nor  the  seas,  that 
monrn 
Id  flowing  pnrple  of  tbctr  Lord  forlorn ; 
Kor  heaTcn,  with  tho#e  eternal  cigiiB  n- 

vealed 
And  hidden  by  the  sleeve  of  night  and 
tBom. 

A  few  years  ago  John  Stoart  Mill 
set  all  our  pulses  flying  when  he  said, 
in  a  reply  to  Hansel,  **  I  will  call  no 
being  good  who  is  not  what  I  mean 
when  I  apply  that  epithet  to  my  fel- 
low-creatures;   and  if  such   a  being 
can  sentence  me  to   hell   for  not   so 
calling  him,  then  to  hell  I  will  go," 
Omar   anticipated  this   heroic  ntter- 
ance.  Seven  centuries  ago  he  sang,  — 
Uav,  but  for  terror  of  his  wrathful  face, 
I  swear  I  will  not  call  injastica  grace. 
Not  one  i;ood  fellow  of  the  tavern ,  but 
Weald   kick  so  poor  a  coward   from   the 
place/' 

But  farther  on,  if  he  reaches  the 
depths  of  blasphemy,  he  touches  the 
highest  heights  of  magnanimity, 
**  O  Thou,  who  man  of  baser  earth  didst 
make, 
And  cveti  with  Paradise  devise  the  snake  t 
For  aU  the  sin  the  tact  tit  wx«\^\ie4  rnSkH 


Is  IdMk  frtdi,— 1 

Bot^  if  ODO  Isegins  to  ip 
kDOWs  not  whcfo  to  stop, — i 
strildfig  or  so  bomtiful.  Dj 
wine  enlist  another  such  a 
but  if  the  line^  aro  ladea  1 
pfaise,  betwoea  dte  lin»  t 
hercoDdemnatiOfi.  The  rem 
match  for  the  disease.     He 

*W1»t.    wiikiMit 
wkmmf 

And,     wifhMt 

hence! 
Ah, 


To  drag  the  msmiarj  «f  ite  is 
But  that  it  doot  iiol 
memory  of  it,  let  Omar 
ness,  —  Omar,  wIkv  liari^ 
his  fill,  b  itill  Qoliapi>y»  alill, 
and  pestered  by  the  old,  old  n 
He  could  not  tiatie  them,  all 
certainly  he  coold  not  cat  ih 
that  bacchic  sword,  his  goU 
or  drown  them  in  his  wioe. 
thank  Hearen !    TVe  may  sa 


« 


at  any  price."  We  pay  a 
think  sufficient ;  and  stitL,  pi 
not  come.  The  price  is  still  < 
After  all,  this  book,  and  eif 
book,  is  a  real  contribotioq 
faith.  It  is  only  indififerencf 
gets  in  us  any  permanent  dui 
1y  let  the  interrogation  b^ 
and  passionate  enough,  and 
nestness  and  passion  assiiH 
there  is,  there  must  be,  some 
reply.  Gieat  hearts  are  God^ 
gument  For,  at  their  grt^ 
is  greater  than  our  heaita*^ 
this  we  are  a.«^ured,  nolo* 
power  of  noble  and  exalted 
by  the  failure  of  all  nataml 
souls  to  drug  tiietuselvei  to^ 
stml  sleep  before  the  prDbte«V 
universe,  —  "  He  giveth  to  li] 
while  they  sleep.*' 

JoHS  W.  Cri 


EmoWt  Bktory  0f  land. 


or 


■Wraftb 


•r  tte  «ad 


k  afcrbA«r  tfce 


Old 


OT^1U9    m  IJIQ 


S«itftc 


-orDkvid,tli«ibfftifi. 
m»j  wt  Unltod  to  Mt 
— ^^     Aiidil 


tracs  of  tfe 


,Mm  demtlT 


(IKin^  XL  27)  diat 
tfe^«f  Bmd,  ni  k  Mk  ]fiIlQ,« 

VMOMoTtbeorei^ 
Ife  coMtntlm  of  ihMf  Ibiw 

iMMi  tliat 

i^ovlil  be  imt  finoa  Mm, 

girea   t»  this  rwy 

«r  bs  (1  Kiiv  xi  11-U). 

^^^•^▼i^J  c»K  of  Rv^  VM  f be 

wiiidi  die 

^  .   M  £wald 

CM  alvs^  to  |MU  iM,  dM 


^ 


^ 


M-    w^  ^^ 


616 


Ewald'B  History  of  Israd. 


resented  hy  the  prophetic  function, 
Ahijah  knew,  nevertheless,  that  Solo- 
mou'g  liol<l  upon  the  government  was 
too  strong  for  any  successful  attempt 
to  be  made  duruig  the  present  reign. 
He  wields,  therefore,  the  same  %veapon 
which  the  prophet  Samuel  used  in 
the  case  of  Saul  and  David,  and  gives 
Jeroboam  to  understand  that  Jeho- 
vah had  rent  the  kingdom  from  Solo- 
mon, and  had  given  to  him  ten  tribes, 
as  represented  by  the  symbol  of  the 
new  garment  of  offioej  rent  into  twelve 
parts,  of  whicli  he  receives  ten  at  the 
hand  of  Aliijah.  Jeroboam,  however, 
unltke  Davidf  proceeds  at  once  to 
overt  acts,  to  obtain  that  which  ap- 
pears to  him  to  have  come  legitimately 
to  him  from  the  hand  of  Jehovah. 
Though  he  was  unsuccessful  against 
his  powerful  master,  yet  he  had  left 
a  deep  impression  on  the  minds  of 
the  men  of  his  jealous  tribe,  which 
enubkil  Iiim  afterwards  fully  to  carry 
out  tite  design  of  the  proj>het,  and 
wrest  the  northern  part  of  Israel 
from  the  kingdom  established  by 
David. 

The  author,  as  usual,  warns  his 
readers  that  much  c-are  should  be 
taken  in  reading  the  narrative,  as 
told  by  the  Deuteronoraic  narrators, 
who  are  tix>  prone  to  debase  the  posi- 
tion of  any  king  opposed  to  their 
royal  house.  There  is  a  remarkable 
example  of  such  an  attempt  in  the 
version  of  the  naiTative  of  Jero- 
boam's life  in  the  MS.  which  was  at 
the  basis  of  the  Septuagint  version, 
as  we  find  it  in  the  Vatican  MS., 
which  we  are  tempted  to  insert  here, 

**  And  there  was  a  msm  of  Mt. 
Ephniini,  a  servant  of  Solomon,  whose 
name  was  Jeroboam  ;  nnd  his  mother's 
name  was  Sarira,  a  harlot ;  and  Solomon 
gave  bim  a  commi^i^ion  to  pupcriDtend  the 
taxes  of  the  hou^e  of  Joseph  ;  and  lie  had 
three   hundred  ckarVoU  o?  \ioxwei^.  TVsJa 


man  built  the  citadel  in 
of  the  house  of  Ephratou 
shut  up  the  city  of  Diivid,  aDd; 
ai^ain^t  the  king.  ^Vnd  S 
to  kill  him ;  and  he  w« 
Suicakim  (Sbisbak),  king 
remained  with  him  till 
And  Jervibrmm  beard  in  n^y 
UMJti  was  dead  ;  an*i  hi 
of  SusnkiiJi,  king  of  E-tj- 
Djo  away,  ;ind  I  will  depart  ia| 
country.  And  Sasaki m  said  uni^ 
any  favor  of  me  and  I  willgi?e  ii  1 
Su^akim  ^ve  Jeroboam  hi«  el4 
ter^  and  the  sister  of  Thekemia 
She  was  chief  of  the  daughters  ti 
and  she  bare  to  Jcrol:K>am  Ahij; 
(iKings  xii.  20  ;  LXX-  Cod.  f 

Here  are  evidently  two  g 
representations.  First  the 
name,  Sarira,  is  confounded 
name  of  his  native  city.  Ht 
Sarira,  the  Sarira  in  3Il 
That  she  was  a  harlot,  there  ii 
whatever.  And^  secondly,  th 
of  Abijah  was  not  an  Egypi 
cess,  but  Maachah  the  daii 
Absalom. 

One  peculiarity  Ewald  ii 
the  new  monarchy  of  the  Tn 
throughout.  Although  un< 
of  its  most  vigorous  soverei^ 
was  evinced  a  tendency  t 
hereditary,  yet  it  always  i 
mained  elective.  And  thus 
out  the  entire  series  of  the  i 
of  the  northern  tribes^  p| 
held  the  sway,  and  contini 
fronted  the  crown,  as  in  xh 
Samuel.  Accordingly,  as 
hertl  of  liethlehom  in  the 
Samuel  might  aspire  to  tbc 
the  "  anointed  of  Jehoroh 
the  new  rigime^  tlie  humbl 
backed  by  the  prophetic 
might  aspire  to  the  throric, 
nevertheless*  only  as  tJie  c 
whom  **  God,  even  hi^i  God,  hi 
st^  v?lth  the  oil  of  gladness 


£wa2d's  History  of  IgraeL 


617 


Thb  Ter    "*  '»f  election, 

rfttheamtL  .  shoivs,  was 

caiitse  oi  **tfae  g^*at  itista- 

i  urltich   tlie  Dortlieru  king- 

This  was  iU  character- 

rithe  canst  ant  autagoziism 

rojal  and    the    prophet- 

This  antupduiiitn  became 

i  int^nfiOf  Wting  through 

liree  cetiturtt«s,  and  as  surelj 

the  denth -struggle    of   the 

which   seems   as   if  called 

1^   far  the    eiE press  pur- 

.:ig    this    very  question. 

jh  the  crown  wasJ  continual  j 

:  piophelism^  the  prophetic 

rose  irresistibly  tri- 

the  word  of  e\*ery    really 

fthet  proring  far  more  potent 

II    the   material  power  of  tlie 

And  when,  at  length,  the 

gucceeded  in  destroying  the 

fnocticm  altogether,  it  hut 

to  pieces,  —  rescue  became 

,  and  it  fell  to  rise  no  more. 

( iif  the  nat long's  ruin  were, 

ID  the  very  compljcatioiu* 

rolQtiona  whicli  first  called  it  into 

*  The  gterm  nf  dlftsolntion 

I  tlie  origin  of  the  kingdom  it^f, 

I  fall  wftt  the  iseritable  conse- 

»  of  ltd  fmdamental  principle^.*' 

itHor,   mm    asml,   liaes   alxiYe 

and  biblica!  critiei«iii  in 

late  of  the  leal  grand  ear  and 

noithem  kingdom.     All 

9x7  readers  of  Bihk  iijalofj 

apt  to  Ikll  into  tlie  error  of 

the  greata^a  of  Iafa«]  in 

s|«naoci  of  Ulw  tclatioai  of 

jikoM.    Kol  m  £«aU. 

reiidcr  to  many  eridcBoei 

f  diai9ct«r  4^  the  noillt* 

,  whidl  fiiforM  tWm  of 

to  ^epiaeialg    adi«r 


and  not  in  vain,  to  bo  a  kingdom  of 
tlie  true  Gml  Many  of  the  noWh'Ht 
prophets  and  hiird^  Iwloijg  to  the 
Ten  Tribes.  In  a  noti*  (p.  0),  which 
is  perhaps  open  to  «»evere  critici)*m,  if 
any  one  were  l>*ild  enough  to  face  thia 
Goliiith  of  biblical  hiMtory^  he  saya, 
"Not  merely  Can  tides,  but  many  of 
the  most  beautiful  songn,  such  aa 
Ps.  xcm  xxxix.,  Ixii,,  xxi.,  xlv.,  and 
Deut,  xxxii..  belong  to  the  kini;- 
dom  of  the  Ten  Tribeti,"  In  atiy 
case,  we  must  concode  that  the  art« 
flouriiihed  in  the  northern  kingdom, 
at  least  in  lu  bet^t  days,  more  than 
in  the  southern.  The  kingd<im  of 
Israel  is  wrested  from  the  kingiliim 
fonndeil  by  David  for  puqM>*«s  far 
higher  than  are  at  finit  »cen  by  a  cur* 
sory  glance  at  the  political  crises  of 
that  age.  It  wi^  the  working  out  of 
the  grand  consummation  of  tliin  titago 
of  Israel's  history,  the  timt  ertV^ct  of 
which  was  the  removal  of  the  one- 
sided tendencieii  towards  tho  au* 
to<ira4*y  of  the  monarchy,  whurh  hoil 
l>een  ^teaijily  gaining  ground  tn  the 
boose  of  I>a?id,  ^*and  thereby  it* 
vain  struggles^  and  the  increasing 
impossibility  of  retrieving  itj  errnr% 
more  and  moro  powerfully  enforcing 
the  better  way.'*  **  Wlio,"  be  ankni 
**  m  view  of  tach  songs  as  1  Ham.  ii. 
1-10,  and  Pa.  xxix*  and  xh\,  can 
imagine  that  all  its  kingt^  enpecially 
thoM  who  were  animat4»d  by  i^uch 
great  propbeti  aa  Elijah  and  KliAha, 
wer«  from  fir>t  to  last  io  wholl/  mo- 
wurthy '/  '^  He  aumi  op,  howw#r,  hb 
wise  crilaiMB  upon  tba  kinsH'om  of 
Um  T«ii  TrihMp  fc»f  •ajiag  that  ^tha 
iiaiair«  of  the  eri^  a&d  fmrftiaifi^ 
tal  pnnciplai  ef  thii  Idafdooi  pat^ 
reoied  it  inm  ever  pmig  larth  ta 
any  gnat  leyaianr.  towards ahighar 
fMsl ;  aad  the  evil  taaJaac 
ina  lataat  ta  tt  fma  the 


8 apt* Hon ty  to  th©  new  oortliern  king- 
dom, from  the  higher  civilization  in- 
trrniin^ed  hy  the  glorious  regime  of 
David  and  Solomon.  Under  Diivid's 
rule,  neither  the  prophetic  i>ower,  nor 
yet  the  rutle  will  of  the  people,  were 
able  to  overwhelm  the  kingly  power. 
Concious  of  hu  high  vocation,  David 
magnilit^d  the  dignity  of  his  kingly 
office,  and  ii.seil  ita  strength  in  con- 
junction with  Jehovah,  as  if  he  real- 
ized that  Jehovah  had  truly  said  unto 
him,  *' Sit  thou  upon  my  riglit  hand 
nnttl  I  make  thine  enemieis  thy  fbot- 
stooh*'  The  essential  «lifferenoe  be- 
tween the  two  kingdoms  aeems  to  bts 
sufBcieiitly  marked  from  the  com- 
niencemeutj  and  though  both  were 
doomed  to  end  in  ruin,  they  each 
had  sown  the  ditFerent  seed,  which, 
though  antagonistic  in  principle,  tend- 
ed to  the  same* result. 

Til  ere  is  no  doubt  that  the  north- 
ern kingdom,  from  the  commencement, 
intended  to  preserve  the  theocracy; 
and  from  the  yery  inception  of  the 
rebellion  the  prophetic  power  put 
forth  the  most  violent  eflorts  in  that 


The  kingdom  of  JudiJ 
liarly  protective 
grave  error ;  and' 
its  independence 
period  Iroitt  the 
so  entirely  at  lite 
and  violent  propheti^n 
matters  to  be  develop 
and  with  a  proporti< 
regularity.  But  E^ 
tinguishes  bet 
prophet  ism  and  ti 
pro]»hetism  *'  wh 
erted  ita  influence 
**  Just/'  he  says, 
States,  so  grievoi 
1806,  ought  nev' 
the  joint  use  of 
The  marked 
kingdom  of  the  Tea  i 
inability  for  ioleratiikiij 
when  Jerobnam  set  ix| 
calves  to  prevent  the  1 
to  Jerusalem  to  woi^ 
days  when  it  was  l 
prophet  of  Jehoval^ 
Judah  or  her  own  | 
fonuil    in    all   the 


JudiJ 

i  mefcj 
hetiflfl 

jvelop 
roporti< 
It  Egj 

I 

ice  etfi 


XT ^     A..M 


^ 


i^lMnO. 


619 


Tlie  seent  «f  Ibtr  vjfeiKty 
itioiiaf  hir  rifiHf,  iir  A^ 

iDai^oOBy  wit^  her  pNnl 


Tm 


bj  wndi  il 


Tksennniy  loo^ 

of  ttt  lor- 

EB^r  D^vid  sad  SdbBMi. 

ItojUlMKliof  t&otm- 

to  powcc     It  Itrvd  realtj 

ifB  Mfciifc  m  its  mim  sad  te  dstf,  bat 
br  «Uc&  k  wvor  snlf  sttsined.  .U- 
si^  V!7*  ^"''V^BS  bttvvm  tbs  htgher 
^Bsv  S9M  ths  bfWK^  ssnoit  cisijp  f  nMH|gs 
tis-  te  still  asBg  to  tbs  Mwsisntc  bopcL 
ns  ber  saog  ta  beir  dsjs  of  gresi* 
:  tiisl^  JMtsisJ  bf  lisr  enrf  bsid 
B  psspbiii^  mfStt  ni  tbs  osjrs  of  bcc 
Tbs  Aoo^  tefs  tibs  item 
J««e?  ms  wbal  kept  bcr  sl»«^ 


••teijr 


not  bs  t«Mtod  to;  bat 

#tjii^^^iBi^  sot  nQjy  vita 
■tioas^batsWsrith 


,fa  wUdiiti 


alvajs 


[frrtbspvfpossef  stsoif- 
ttg  aat  tte  ab  of  tbot  sboal  b j  fortsu 
It  vas^  as  ths  aolhor  rerf  ww^f  sa^ 
^eata^  t^  tondbnqr  to  Uok  Udc  "^  ta 
tba  aalaaiil  balmsfcs  of  tba  trm 
lafifioa,  cbs  traipia  of  Soloamit  tba 
fmtiBM  eapttsL  vttb  Om  aUofata 
sail  pomffal  pfwfboodL  sH  of  wiMeB 
caaia  ti»  ba  ia|prfwJ  witb  sa  aref^ 


kil^Mf^ 


«  vbaOf  to 
»  af  Jaisb 

tfcat  of  tba 
Urmli  sad  tlia  iMt 
af  tlw  bklatT  aalj  com- 


tks 


D^ogl-y. 


tl^ 


la  Isofcad  Ibr  soWf  ia  i 


sf  a 


to  lata  iIm  Stato  aad 
m  eonaptiaa."    Tbair 

^otitt  of  tbafttH ;  aad  tbat  paii  ns 

caatnd  ia  Data!  si 

—  ia   Oaaids  8aa 

Ta  i|asto  libs  aotliaiv 
boa  sosaw  tostiiltost  tbe  rcij 
af  dis  ^■baiii  af  siijr  Stato  or 


aldUkntot 


620 


Ewald'i  HUtory  of  Israel 


t 


r 


as  of  any  avail  after  their  udefulDeaa 
lias  perishetl :  — 

'*  It  is  at  once  the  »ign  and  the  conse- 
quence of  an  old  and  dcep-rooled  civiliza- 
tion when  there  gradually  arise  among  a 
people  f!|K!cial  outward  objects  of  sanctity, 
which  arc  accofintt«d  its  powerful  safeguards 
a;rainst  all  evils*  Even  in  the  midst  of  a 
reli'iion  hostile  to  superstition,  these  estab- 
lish themselves*  in  the  course  of  time, 
with  a  tenacity  which  is  rendered  more 
fatal  by  the  jKJwer  which  ita  vital  princi- 
ple has  once  realiy  exerted,  and  the  fame 
it  has  consequently  acquired.  What,  for 
example,  is  the  belief  of  ik»mish  Chrisr 
trans  in  Rome,  of  the  evan!:;elical3  of  the 
present  dny,  in  the  symljol-books,  and 
even  in  the  letter  of  Scripture,  but  super- 
stition of  this  sortV  It  is  under  a  certain 
prciisure  of  existence,  in  the  sad  extremi- 
ties ngiiinst  which  the  little  kingdom  of 
Judadi  (tor  instance)  had  to  contend,  that 
the  popular  mind  grasps  most  easily  at 
iueh  outward  means  of  protection;  and 
the  6U|>erstition  which  then  arose,  unob- 
ten'ed,  in  its  niidsti  was,  assuredly,  far 
mort5  innocent  than  that  of  so  many  hyp- 
ocrite a  in  the  evangelical  and  Romish 
churches  of  the  present  day*  But  a  super- 
stition of  thi^  kind,  sprin'j^in^  up  in  the 
heart  of  the  sanctuary  of  the  ancient  com- 
munity, might  easily  become  a  hidden 
rock  on  which  the  ship  of  State*  mi^ht  bo 
dashed  to  pieces,  in  such  an  age  of  storms ; 
find  it  really  became  the  cau-te  of  it«  final 
destruction,  when  it  ceased  to  seek  any 
other  support  tor  its  confidence  and  safety. 
And  with  the  State,  the  monarchy ,  in  spite 
of  its  superiority,  was  doomed  to  disap- 
pear from  outward  view  "  (vol.  iv.  p.  1 7), 

It  would  be  simply  impossible  to 
condense  in  these  pages  any  thing 
like  a  fair  estimate  of  the  admirable 
manner  in  which  the  anther  traces  in 
detail  the  various  dynasties  of  the 
northern  kingdom.  But  throughout 
the  whole  history  of  the  kiugtlom  of 
the  Ten  Trilies,  we  find  this  continual 
6truj?;2rle  of  what  the  author  cal  f *  "  Jab- 
veism  "  agamst  heathenism.     This  is 

y  fiuely  iUustrated  *\w  \W  cVai^i^T^^ 


i 


derot^d  to  ''  Elijah  and  hi 
Bors/*     There  seems  to  h»T( 

unusual  increase  of  prophet 
portion  to  the  growing  tyran 
kings,  la  1  Kioga  xxii,  \ 
Und  (for  example)  sefcnd 
prophet'ii  assembled  in  S«i 
rea4ly  to  prophesy  ' 
or  the  other.  Mar 
apparently,  gwilty  of  ppopi 
please  the  rovTal  i»ar ;  very  k^ 
bore  an  unimpoa<'hahle  r»>pui 
the  truth.     Bu'  *i 

dency  to  heathc 
plainly   in   Ahab's    reign^ 
dreds  of  priosU  and  propKeti 
were  appi»inted,  then  the 
tween  the  two  t^; 
neut ;  and  these  _      ^       >  of 
perhaps,  in  reputation,  really* 
better  tlian  the  prophets  of  B 
compelled    to    combine 
alarming   evil  which    Uipca^ 
overwhelm  them,  and  crush 
remnant  of  life  left  in  thtf  nl 
Jehovah.     It   is   htmHy  to 
dered  at  that  these  propb«l| 
word,  singly,  could  not  be  i 
should,  wli^n   coinbined,  hi^ 
themselves    under   thtt    baiLi 
court.     Of  all  the  prophet* 
vah,   there  was    but   one  wb 
firmly  resist  the  tyranny  of  k 
Jezebeh     Elijah  stands  aloud 
prophet    of   Jehovah.      Tha 
says,    *•  It  is  this    which  cqi 
the  true  significance  and  et«l 
ration  of  ElijalTs  career.     Hi 
the  sublime  altittide  of  Saia 
like  Ills  great  predeeesoor,  ii 
with  the  human  monarchy.! 
to    be   set,    for  the    first    Urn 
firmer  ha^is;  hut  in  a  ntxiig 
very  different  character^  agaii 
thenism,  who^e  only  proc^ctic 
a  monnnihy  aln^ady  ^f  _^  -  "^t 
he  even  touches  th»> 


Etcald'B  SUiory  of  IgraeL 


621 


Kes  m  reiT  importaDt  differrare". 

Smnder  of  a   new  rnstirutiozi  ■  izi 

Beh   capacitv  he   cann*:*:    lie   c^iiih 

e^  with  Samuel  >.  bur  only  &»  iLe 

■npion  of  an  old  onranizAti.'L.. 

■■Elijah  furnishes,  accord: L^ir.  ilte 

■ftttiiking  pnx»f  of  rbe  truth  that 

■b  the  most  pjweTfuI  and  (*re;i.r:rr 

Mds    of    the     age     were    j-t     :::- 

piible  of  originating  aiiv  tLinz  ^-^ 

■liaUv   new.      The   coursit    ■.•f  the 

energy   of    reli*ri-.«n    itnivij 

ancient   people  had  klreadj.  ';  r 

time,  so  far  as   c<'»nt^r:j-?d   t'tje 

and  the  kingdom,  re:*',  bed  rt- 

Ltion,  and   commeni-ei  ft?  de- 

i;  because  the  time  wa?  n  c  jt-t 

fiv  the  adrent  of  thit  rre;*:  tirw 

i<Mi  which  wjLS    atrstiiiei    :.■ 

u  the  completion  of  tbe  ■•il*' 

anthor   Terr  pr:»;jer;j   pl^ce? 

Knith  of  the  nortiiem  >.wrr  n. 

veign  of  Jerol^jam  IL.  wri*-:..  Le 

^  it  might  hare  lieen  eIT•e^t*^i.  i- 

Kign  whose  militatrr  sw^r  w^  ■'>• 

boful  as  to  la=it  £fry-tLree  y^.ilT^.. 

the  kingdom  wouli  rukve  t~L.:iieI 

D  enduring  pr-issji^rirr.     Irji.  jt- 

Ae  palmr  davs  of  K.iiiZ  >'ji  131  •:.. 

I  the  people  rest*fd  froz.  t:i-  •:«.::,- 

us  in   which  thev  hui  -i*--!.  *-:.- 

d  under  DaTid's    zn  »r»-    wlj.Ik'' 

and  frll  into  LaSite  '-f  *;jif^  tii- 


of  IsraeF*  j»fi»wer  wa-  "J-^"  tTzr^- 
in    her  oar*-**r  :    tiii    tr  -'j. 
Qommenoement  of  tii-  ti  _ru  li-:- :<*'.!• 
reifrn  of  Jery>iatXi  II..  -ri^rr^  .- 
^Sladoal    but   Fwift   d*?*::  ::*-  .l  'ii'- 
bals  of  the  peojile  of  I-r-a-.      Tri- 
l^beta  Ho*ea  and  IJUi*-  ■.••cr.   1  --  . 
thia   reign:    and    a   r»-f-r^::  -    • 
•  piophecies  uttered   t'_'-  -i.-r..  v"." 
lettd  with   great  intfrri^.-r   .: 
rtiop  with   this   j^eno-::    r  l-.r^:  - 
iHy.     With  this  maal  c.mfi.u'i  il 
te  tibe  djmuHutMm  of  pripu-^'irin.. 
irih  the   eifyjIiMW   of  ilL:/'a£   azi'. 


Eis-hii.  not  one  of  the  school  of 
aiii-ie^t  ]:»rr>pLrt*  ha.i  been  able  to 
^a?^•«^f:l!!^  withstand  the  kiugly 
jiC'Wrr.  The  violen'.-e  and  imperious- 
nes*  iLhertLt  11.  the  whole  nature  of 
pp-'pnetism  1  which  was  always  com- 
iteljeu  to  a-isuin*?  a  rather  temp^^rat^i  and 
J  in-  ilia:  .-rr  am:  uie  towards  tlie  cn^wn 
of  Jaial.  .  l»e':ame  more  and  more 
jKWrrful.r  deveiijifed  in  ea/:h  succej*}*- 
;re  re-ZT-  of  the  northern  kingdom, 
ani  w;i«  at  jeLzrh  comj>elled  to  »«uc- 
'.■uz.h  wijeL  th-  moral-  of  the  whole 
tie  •Tile  Lai  beome  vitiated.  Vet 
the-?e  aii'-i*-nt  Bi:*iT-.  up  to  the  very 
•[•■•nisjinaiari  ••;  of  I-rael'b  downfiill, 
s»eerL  to  :iave  *-ar:v  T^fyyrTt  \z0nl  and  <"]«*ar  • 
'v  ikZ^'^''-j.zi"*^2v\,j  should  lie  the  instru- 
Hie:.:-  :z.  J^-ii-ru-.'s  hand  of  the  final 
i-r>tru '.-!.•-  ■•'"  ::je  kirj:jdorrj  of  J*r.v!. 
I:  1?-  .'z.ii-j^.-.^tr  to  rea^J  the  prv/fihi*- 
'jie-  of  Am /r  :%r  in-tann-^  without 
seeiir  ar  ''lire  rhat  A^nyria  wa<«  to  Uj 
t::^  r-yj  w:.i'.:r.  -houji  chaw^iiM;  Juni^d. 
vi_  A:n>-  ...  v:..  vii..  and  ix.^ 
H -"?*:&  .-  ••..la  ■■  •T'/.'-it  in  jin-di**!- 
L:.r  *:.iir  -i*-  r.ii*.  i\-  wfiorn  th«-y  h:i^l 
•;:i>^:.  i  -r  :.-.*•  r  a  .'•-  woji-J  i-vcntfj. 
al.j-  •»*:  '.:j'-  r  ..-r-T-^;  »r-,      (V»d.  if»«i., 

•*:iu':*  .M.  1^."  :*'/'.  ;**rrr:iiJ.  V/  follow  thn 
U'r.li  ir  :.  :.:-  ;:.'.»T»'i'!:rj;^  it\ifw  nf 
t:**-  IL.  r  "^li'ri.ir.H.  and  ''u-  dr  {f/ilsi 
ti  t:,  /  •:  .*-  7»'r.  'J  r  'i*-.  'J  ii»  ir  ;/if;il 
•rH-  -.rr.-..»r-  'M'/iir.  af'>T  »hf  1:1  li  nl  Mm 
Il  »L-«^  *  -;  ►-■  a'l'J  '.'#rii  intji-  f«i  m 
■rr^ra^  •;:  ->  i/-    '■.»:  i:  ./f,«#/f  ;%h.iHiiiii. 

-yl*^::i-'i*-".  i-'.  .  j'»  r.ifcri.iili,  'J  hi  y  (  III 
m.liS-V  .r.  r.:.»  :?<v>ii^i'yri  «/f  I  i'/ltill| 
r^.i-.'^.r  '  •:»»  n-./T.  of  I'll^.h,  mi. I 
.■:^:.a/-  V  ■  /  '.'  J-.],it,  Iv;  Hi;4i,  ti|MiM 
-:.-  tK-^-.  i'  *;  /,ii.-li  JMiKii,  Mini 
71;  c-TiT  ■-«*••  :  .,  »■  .'.  ,»»-./i'#r,  in  I  In:  niiilli 
•  -rar      .'       '.»      r»-  /■.    of     M«,>.i  m,    mii*.     mI 

".I.-       •  ••-;         ti-^^       /   ,,•]       klli/K     'if        Ir.|f4l.|. 

•,'i«ir  •^i-!i:.i-..-   ii'.-,  .n.i#.iv«i   Iriiifi  iivviiy 


622 


Etoald'a  Bistory  of  Israd. 


I 


Pilesor'a  time,  according  to  an  inti- 
mation of  Isaiab,  were  scattered  over 
Assyria,  and  Patlim^,  and  Cush, 
Elani,  Shinar,  Hamath,  and  the 
i^ands  of  the  sea  (Isiu  xu  11). 
No  wonder  that,  in  after  centuries,  go 
wide  was  the  dispersion,  and  80  inter- 
mingled >Yith  heatlien  nations  had 
these  Ten  Tribe**  become,  they  were 
spoken  of  sneeringly  by  their  ancient 
ri^'al  sister  asi  **  The  dispersion  of  the 
Gentiles  ''  (John  vii,  35). 

The  thlH  and  last  section  of  the 
volume  i»  devoted  to  the  kingdom  of 
Jndah  till  its  fall  All  Bible  readers 
are  more  or  lesa  conversant  with  this 
part  of  I^raefa  history ;  we  need  only, 
then? fore;,  take  a  cursory  glance  at  a 
few  of  the  most  important  topics  of 
that  age ;  as  the  development  and 
form  of  the  Messianic  hope,  as  por- 
trayed by  tlie  royal  prophet  and  poet 
Isaiah,  in  the  reign  of  the  gond  king 
Hezekiah  ;  with  a  few  remarks  on  the 
general  results  of  the  period  of  the 
monarchy. 

The  kingdom  of  Jadali  had  risen 
to  a  far  higher  compreliension  of  the 
true  religiou,  after  tlie  fall  of  her  sis- 
ter kingdom  ;  and,  in  the  reign  of 
Hezekiah,  there  appears  an  elevation 
of  spirit  which  breathes  through  all 
the  utterances  of  that  great  Messianic 
prophet,  Isaiah,  who  was  the  first 
to  '*  grasp  this  truth  with  creative 
genius."  Other  great  prophets  had 
foreshadowed  the  Messianic  hope,  each 
of  wliom  had  insisted  that  the  house 
of  David  could  never  remain  long  de- 
pressed. But  it  was  reserved  for 
Isaiah  to  point  out  what  this  Messiah 
must  he,  who  should  so  satisfy  all  the 
demands  of  the  true  religion  of  Je- 
hovah, as  to  be  the  centre  from  which 
all  the  truth  and  all  the  force  of  that 
religion  should  openite.  The  great 
poet  rises  far  higher  than  any  of  the 
great  prophets  belote  \ivm^  Vti  It^cpl*- 


figuring  the  M^sianic  hop«  ii 
an  impulse  in  the  good  km| 
kiah's  hearty  as  to  induct  him 
deavor  to  fuMl  it. 

Ewald  has  &ne1y  conceives 
true  Messianic  spirit  in 
Speaking  of  Isaiah's  concepi 
the  expectation  of  Israel,  he 

"  Hjs  (the  fiitni\^  MeasiabS)  i 
possess  a  marvellous  ami  surpiil 
b]ene?s,  and  divine  power,  b<c« 
his  functiou  perfectly  to 
the  ancient  rehVion,  the 
which  no  one  bad  yet  sati 
too,  with  that  spintoal 
the  great  prophets  had  ani 
there  first  comes  some  one  who 
figure  this  religion  inta  its  pQi 
will  never  be  perfecied,  and  i\» 
will  never  come.  But  he  will 
come^  for  otherwise  the  religi 
demands  him  would  be 
first  true  king  of  the 
true  God,  and  as  nothing  dii 
cc?ived  of  as  supplzintiog  him» 
reign  forever  in  irreswUble  powa 
the  divine-human  King,  whose  call 
been  due  ever  since  the  true 
had  set  up  a  human  monarefaj 
midst,  but  who  had  never  comei 
to  be  looked  for,  to  be  lon^^ed  I 
prayed  for ;  and  how  blessed  it  h 
to  ei^pect  him  devourly,  and  tl 
every  fiiature  of  Ids  likeneas  1  H 
the  noblone^s  of  liis  soul  Is  to  p 
detail  the  ix>s8ibility  of  j>er(*)ctla| 
li^ion  ;  and  to  believe  in  the 
his  cominj^^  is  to  believe  in  the 
of  all  divine  agency  on  e^rth*  Bl 
li^^litnini^-tlash  of  this  tinith  in 
soul,  every  lower  hope  retitatii 
nature  of  the  Messiah,  and  tbtf  i 
of  his  coming,  are  now  the  main 
of  all  antk-ipaUon  ;  and  if  Isadah 
lows  ancient  usage,  ami  speaks  of 
house  as  a  foundation  of  sacni 
yet  his  soul  is  filled  with  nothing 
picture  of  the  spiritual  glory  of  I 
iiiah,  by  the  side  of  which 
else  sinks  into  indiffervnce ;  hi* 
fcelinjcs  are  his  eertainty^  and  lus 
\kv2^^\»'M9£Al\  and  it  u  to 


Ewald^s  History  of  Jsrutl.  ii'JS 

with  all  his  power  to  (Urein  the  wouk  to  hral  llio  k\\'v\%  \^^u^u^^  i.|   i!u% 

■5  hearers  "  (vol.  it.  p.  203).  Stato,  uiitl  thim  |»ino  tlio  >^.v>   lx.i   Ww 

:he   nation   held    itsi'lf  free  Messiah,  it  uii|ii*atv«l   hot  In.  m  mi^m 

rom   idolatry,  and  tho  vices  of  tho  ]M>SMililo  itiipi-ovoiiuMtl    dl    ih^ 

It    upon    it,   Juduh     would  present  nuiditinii  ni'  tho  Movtu'  kio^ 

D  rea<ly  to  enter  u|x>n  a  vast  doin,  to  iMiiut.  (irni    to  iho  io««oi^.w\ 

revolution,  such  as  Ilezekiah  com  in;;  of  a  Mfi-nnd   Moqim,  uhn.  Iilut 

.1  during  his  reign.  tlie  first,  should  opt«ni(n  ^\iih    |ni\«.«i) 

tch  proved  not  to  l>e  tho  case  ;  and  to  wlioui  ihi«  pruplit  Mhimld  n  iuh«i 

successive  king  after  Heze-  pure    olii'difriirn "    (vol    u     p     \'*i\\ 

-  proved  that  the  Messiah  of  'V\ui  author    liilmirahly  ouiim  up  Iho 
IS  not  yet  to  be  found.     In  ((«fnerul  n-'jilii  ol  ihn  noiuni*  Im.  nht«ii 

s:rug&;le  after  new  liiV',   in  Ua  hny^  th;it,  "  muny  n  liiiiipliMn  h>i4 

ipt  to  effect  such  an  internal  f;il]<rii    U'<;;iii^<:    fhii    iofiiiii«»l    itlniitM 

Q.  the  kingdom  wa.-?  hr'k«::i  u*:*:*:^^Si.ry  Vtr  i^4    nidinlMi'ihi ««   oi.in 

iM  assigns  the  dar*:  cf  •.;**.-  •■.rh'-r  i.V.  «•*«•' -r*'!  ul  ull,  m   umI   nil 

>?rtion   of  Deiter/r.orr.y    •..-,  .:  -«*.*   >/•,  /*•<-,*'     'Hii-m  !>»•(  ■  .iii.>i.i 

- 1.  and  very  mW  o-, :.'. v. r :. •_*  :r<^ . y  ^]''/*;/  V/  <■  */ h  of  i hi»  » i ^ .i I  l» 1 1 1 1^ 

*r\-;     a^     .V.J     rX.k."J    r         V. - 

-.   i.i.-i  *i^'.'-.::r  *./.•»  'in*'!-: 

-  ■.:     L-     :»^i*-.'    Kl-lrr- l:l.-i»'f 

■::,*  !•*  W7'#.    •  «ii*    ii'.»:"    ■'* 

J.     T""i*tU>*V..     H     M.if     HIMII. 

• : u'.krr . »i:n :      i;i 1 1    i  a    v  i  ,  i  .- 

■..it".«x.i:L    n   Hiiiitt    11'  i'M   \\\\\* 
-..'1   •;    "iaii    I    lUii—     ii"j' 
r:';'u    uni     :ii«    i»roj:u-'  ■ 

1  i-L^Hur;   4i:t  ^'l^^l■'•  •■  i.s.i..  ••  ..•^--ji-..     «" 

T*:Li:U»f«.    u     :ii»    ■■■!■-  •  1  rv r 

y.c^.  dtr  uiv  mi*    !•    i*-    .:  .;■  Sm     .j.  •  -i    » 

Li  J -nxnx  tiirvrtf    •::;.!■-     -.  ■/     '.  i    i   .../- 

MH  ir:n»r.  v'lti    to*  ••■  - •  -vv^.       * 

uiit  «rr»ni;r:it^iiir!    i=      »•  ,*-•.- j** 
rT.r.inon   uni    r-ri-;:--     <    *  '  *     .  .  i!., 

'1  iiiA«tuuiii;»^  •'    t.»-  '•! -r-- ■  -...JO-       .... 

■:"l#»m»;ii*-»    i»^     ?■  n       '  --  |.f  *•  >   • 

uiit   irrvi^ii^uv:,     r-.<      i.i        •     /,<^     i  . 


t 

«:        .V/!'-'..- 

.*;/r 

ic. 

h:t4f,tu 

.I'M 

li.tj 

/Vv.-. 

^  ,'*'*..,••» 

V,  •?, 

--■ 

U  l^    ^<  li 

U/JhO 

hi 

*  -  *..v 

1   f.  ;           ^• 

'.    « 

'J.' 

'   '  fthttfi 

»i-,o 

hi 

:*..••. -.4^     4.    .V..V. 

i  •'  :  ^ 

r     ' 

■»i^-«.'|     fr 

p'tM 

i)o. 

*MM'.r.. 

»  ».   v,'i»  I  * 

,  .,./   ■. 

',.s 

*.f'/fftt'  * 

r'      l'»*»». 

;.,■.»; 

'':»*.     : 

..i-.»*  ■, 

'    1 

nK  ,  ,iw,'.> 

'     ro 

Ho. 

;»'•'.»;• 

ii»'  .•    *;•.•• 

II 

■■  .'.     -,  r  !• 

,,-! 

1 

L    •.»• 

iiti»ni« ,» 

-.VII  *,*:  i 

•mM  W, 

"■«'i 

u'.r.'V 

y<    '.■.  *•••• 

.\\V.\ 

f  1 ." 

^         •*■'•'', 

;.',  i 

■  '.,<• 

i:    a/'. 

\t\*V  i:»^l. 

«•/.*• 

•■     ■  '    V    ^^z 

^  • 

Viu-: 

1         tlu(        • 

1.  •»  1. 

,* 

.■\.\  ; 

J,  ^  :  .» 

''if 

nn»r» 

iiiit    III'-" 

.        »,-.M 

'  \ 

•        1     ■..    1 

"    /   ' 

'.*, 

».5rt    1 

•U.iU*:!     »#• 

•      \'    ..I 

1 

■  .i         II-. 

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f 

v'Mi-: 

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;l         t 

■  t* 

■  f' 

ii'«T'. 

,ill\»V      o* 

.... 

.. 

'/       ,      .• 

A     •■  • 

ti 

lit" 

•ili/iii^ll       1 

1      • ii , , 

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.. 

iM'i'r- 

■«         •.    Mli« 

..1  i.ii 

..1 

. 

■  ■     1 

624 


Drummond's  Sermons. 


king  who  should  walk  in  the  ways  of 
his  father  Darid.  She  had  many 
opportunilies  during  her  existence  to 
effect  those  ijitemal  reforms  which 
were  continually  presenting  them- 
selves. Only  when  it  was  too  late, 
nearly  a  century  after  Isaiah  had 
sung  of  the  true  King,  '*  who  ehoiild 
sit  upon  the  throne  of  David^  and  exe- 
cute judgment  and  juslJice  upon  the 
earth,"  did  the  kingdom  of  Judah 
bi*gin  a  reform  in  real  earnest ;  an<l 
even  tlien,  the  very  reforms  which 
were  attempted  by  the  pious  young 
Josiah  only  increased  the  confusion 
by  over-reaching  methods  of  reforma- 
tion. It  was  precisely  the  mistake 
winch  was  prevalent  in  the  later  days 
of  Jewish  history,  wlien  tlie  true 
Messiah  tella  t]»o  Jews  of  his  time, 
"  Ye  pay  tithe  of  mint  and  anise  and 
cummin,  and  omit  the  weigh tcr  mat- 
ters of  tlie  law,  judgment,  mercy,  and 
faitir*  (Matt,  xxiii.  2'J),  Josiah 
certainly  won  the  esteem  of  all  hja 
subjects,  by  his  gentleness^  and  per- 
haps more  by  liis  active  sway  of  the 
sceptre ;  but  when  he  set  up  a  sacred 
book,  and  made  that  the  basis  of  all 
public  life,  it  was  not  to  be  wondered 
at  that  the  clear  pmphetic  insight  of 
a  Jeremiah  should  discern  that  some- 
thing more  was  necessary  than  this 
perverted  coniidence  in  some  tipccially 
holy  place  or  holy  book ;  as  he  says, 
*•  In  those  days,  saith  Jehovah,  I  wull 
put  my  law  in  their  inward  parts,  and 
write  it  in  their  hearts"  (Jer.  xxxL 
33). 

Tlje  reforms  began  too  late  to  save 
the  State,  which  needed  to  be  cemented, 
not  so  mucli  by  laws  written  on  wood  or 
stone,  as  by  the  bonds  of  Jove  and  recon- 
ciliation. And  80  Judah  fell,  though 
not  80  irretrievably  as  her  sister  state  ; 
for  the  promise  of  Jehovah  was  still 
yea  and  nmen  to  her ;  '*  David,  my 
eervaDt,  shall  nevet  taW  ol  sw  ioil  \a 


sit  on  the  throne  forever." 
separable,"  says  the  author,  b 
sion,  ^'  was  the  link  which 
expectation  of  the  everliiAtii 
manence  of  true  religion  in 
witli  the  memory  of  the  gwji 
his  family,  and  Uis  holy  city; 
true  is  it  that  even  human  i 
where  it  has  nearly  succf>eded 
filling  its  highest  task,  conj 
bleijsing  which  time  can  witli 
ty  exhaust,  and  whose  otmm 
may  endure  forever,  ...  It  m 
fond  belief  that  the  monai 
Israel,  in  the  midst  of  the  rio 
its  full,  was,  nevertheless,  do 
lately  destroyed;  for  neith«rl 
the  nation  had  yet  :^  '  J 

preme  and  ultimate  il  t 

they   were  ca[)able,    and    foi 
they  were  reserved." 

JoRK  Wj: 


DRUMMOND^S  SERMO] 

Mr.  DRUMMOND.as  the  sncti 

J.  J.  Tayler,  late  professor  of  | 

Manchester  College,  occupic^i 
of  inBuence  and  importance,  i 
can  readers  will  be  interested! 
something  of  the  characti 
thought  of  this  English  teaq 
theological  students.  And»  asll 
this,  the  Sermons  present  adi 
claims  on  our  attention  for  tl 
trinsic  merits.  They  abound 
sages  of  spiritual  beauty  and  i 
It  is  interesting  to  note  in  wb 
allel  lines  of  thought  the  Engl 
American  pulpit  run.  Whiii 
sillon  anil  Bourdaloue  dr^ti 
vivid  and  graphic  pictures  of  j 
ner,  and  lield  them  up  as  a 
warning  to  the  dissolute  andb 
courtiers,  they  addressed  hea« 
received  religion  with  nnqnd 
faith,  and  rested  thi^ir  convid 
\\\^  ^XLVViC^TvtY  of  the  ChiudL 


Tl 


i  of  litstQij  «ad  fmltli 
TKe  fg^mAet  ai  %»^ 
'  oC  our  citltnnlvd 
Iremts  a  rerj  di0mat  * 
Freodi    courtiei% 
'  fOQgli,  rode  fiolk  who  fbOov- 
Wttle^r^  Fletclier^or  Wliite* 
Thfrre  ia  now  a  large  namber 
biM  men  and  womrn,  wli<\ 
indJy  conscious  of  a  spirit- 
ID  CKristittuitj,  are  yet  nn- 
accept  many  cumjnt  repre- 
of  tL     This  fact  baa  bad 
» on  tbe  polpit ;  and  preacb- 
'  sigbt  bave  aimed  to  adapt 
to  meet  tbe  wants  of 
eooditioii   in    tbeir    bearers, 
■mmond   bas    done   this    in 
riolame   of  twenty-two  sermons,* 
crii    pre^ebed    in    tbe    ordinary 
;afu  of  tbe  pulpit,  tbey  have 
t  aoity.     With  unusual  clear- 
purity  of  style,  the  preacher 
in  the  light  of  tbe  most  ad- 
i  aitaiaments  tn  historical  criti- 
■d   actence,  tbe   great    funda- 
religiou9   qnestiona^  in   tbeir 
to   modern    thought     Their 
sing  excellence  is  theirunion 
ctual   freedom   and    devout 

rConycrj  with  bi» fine  genius 
^Qizing,  has  tbe  rare  faculty 
»g  able  to  bring  out  tbe  highest 
I  tratb  in  a  way  ubtcb  inter- 
ne tb^  ma0ee«  and  the  culti- 
Tbis  is  a  gift  which  few  possess, 
lie.  preachtTs,  in  tbHr  style  and 
it,  eitbej*  become  scholastic  or 
Tbe    roi^jority    use     the 
1 0f  books,  inslvad  of  tbe  dialect 
f-dmj  life.     Tbe  result  i».  that 
i^  educated  *'  preacbera  —  ibis  ia 
itly  tine  of  Unitanani^— 


b«t  UAm  m  tfe  hmk  mad  ¥tfOf«v 

itiidfer  dbe  dlOQ^ft- 
fmllbw,b«lthegEMl  mmmtmwn^ 
thar  dnwn  Mr  ttfMMd  bf  thea. 

diML  TImj  take  nak  vitb  tbe  boat 
Unitaraii  Miittwut;  mndt  tte  immI  of 
tbeae^  bdt  in  fin^  tn  tbal  positire,  in* 
ctsHre,  pointed  vaj  of  putttiiig  things, 
wbieb  stif9  tbe  deeper  f»e!iDga  and 
tonaeo  tbe  eonsdeoce.  Tbey  are  bet- 
tet  ttdftpted  to  eoDfirm  tbe  faith  of  tbo 
beltering  tbaa  to  eonriDce  tbe  sceptic 
or  eoQTert  tbe  ainner.  Tbey  show 
deep  spiritual  tosigbt  and  beauty,  and 
will  prove  a  comfort,  8tn«n);lb,  and 
blessing  to  many  hearts.  They  are 
sermons  for  Sunday  reading,  and  for 
the  more  serious  moods  and  exp<?ri- 
ences;  and  they  will  find  a  place  in 
many  American  homes. 

Among  the  topics  which  this  vol- 
ume discusses  are  the  following  i 
'*  The  Christian's  Distinctive  Faith  ;" 
"  Tbe  Nature  of  Revelation  ;  "  **  Tbo 
sense  of  Sin,  touched  by  the  Revela- 
tion of  God;"  "Spirituality;**  *»  Tliff 
Lights  and  Shadows  of  Faitli ; " 
"  The  Church  of  Christ ; ''  and  **The 
Communion  of  Worship.**  The  fol- 
lowing passages  will  ilhiptrato  the 
preacher*a  style  and  thought :  — 

^'  Those  who  rcfaft^d  to  call  Jt^»its  ar- 
cursed;  and,  diuin^  to  flt*fy  this  wrrrUV§ 
opimon*  irtfliitteil  that,  *o  far  from  dtfiri'^  a 
malefactor,  be  wu  thti  Hon  ttl'  Hnxl^  i}i# 
iDOst  th«oIut«ly  dutiful,  the  rn'Mii  divin^'iy 
lovingt  that  ever  braoUned ;  mod  that  Hlf 
cross,  iftftcad  of  iinkiof  bltn  f^  tli#>  l^f  4 
of  fiave*  and  lelaBS,  bad  raiaod  him  U* 
*tlieLofdof  glory 'aaMoyiMnij 
iav,  who  mada  ibis  eoofasiliWif  i 
eepced  as  CbrisllaM  bf  tktm  w\ 
MIkf  o^dOTMd  wb4  CbHiltatif  mmi 

OlrfitiidtfkAlelMgfM 

it  ootid  b«  oripid  tki4  IImi  «M  4 


626 


Southern   Women  in  Literature. 


■ 


not  belong  to  GiHst,  in  an  age  wben,  in 
consecjui^nce  of  this  profession,  men  were 
cast  tf>  iht'  liun;2rry  jaws  of  the  lion^  and 
liglitecl  with  tlielr  flaming  bodies  ihe 
itri'ets  of  Romt%  If  with  us  this  declara- 
tion haa  become  cold,  heartless,  and  for- 
mal, a  shrivelled  crecd^  which  men  may 
repeat  and  mean  nothing,  the  fault  h  in 
oorselvea.  Let  us  throw  ourselves  back 
into  i!5  ancient  spirit,  and,  wiih  apos- 
toli<:  courage  and  jiiimpliciiyi  insint  on  apn 
plying  it  to  every  part  of  our  lives;  caring 
more  for  the  reality  than  for  the  words  in 
which  we  express  it;  and  wc  Fhall  find 
that  taith  in  Christ  is  still  a  transcendent 
power,  opposed  to  all  worldlinoss,  to  all 
intolerance,  to  aJl  narrownefts  of  aim  and 
view,  sanctifying  life  with  btghewt  hopes, 
eniinhling  it  with  largest  pyinpathiea,  and 
j^ildin^^  it  with  the  g^lory  of  nelf-sa<^rifice. 
Thus  Ghrisitianity,  though  its  name  has 
been  often  used  for  sectarian  purposes, 
brki^  us  back  to  the  universal  test  of 
moral  and  spiritual  excellence ;  and  many 
who  havi3  been  denied  the  name  of  Chris- 
tian, many  who  themselves  perhaps  refuse 
it,  beeonie  Christians  in  the  apostolic 
sense  ;  for  they  love  and  revere  ChristT  and 
have  faith  in  his  spirit,  even  thou^rli  they 
may  not  call  it  by  his  name  :  and  many, 
alaa  I  have  forfeited  tlie  name^  who,  In 
weak  imitation  of  other;*,  have  insincerely 
called  him  *  Lord,  l^rd  I  *  but  have  not 
kept  hh  commandjoents,  and  have  had  no 
true  appreciation  of  hiii  pure,  lovingr,  cour- 
ageous and  self-deny infj  spirit"  (pp.  24-26). 
**  Tlie  resting  in  ilcnif  as  a  Friend  ever 
near,  the  great  Author  of  life,  the  Source 
of  truth  and  pfoodncss,  is  the  distinctive 
feature  of  spirituality.  While  we  are  con- 
tent with  a  law  of  duty,  God  may  seem 
far  awny  fi'oia  the  soul ;  his  Spirit  never 
mirirr!in*r  with  its  deepest  life,  or  heeding 
its  aspinitioo  and  its  conflict.  No  com- 
munion, therefore,  is  sought  witJi  him;  no 
prayer  bursts  from  the  stru^gjlinj:  heart ; 
no  superb II man  strcns^h  arises  from  con- 
scious weakness  and  despair  of  self;  no 
thanksgiving  is  murmured  for  hourly  bless- 
ings felt  within.  But  as  S4»on  as  wfe  know 
that  God  is  our  Father,  our  truest  liie  is 
perpetually  renewed  in  eommtinioa  with 
him.  Prayer  ceases  to  be  a  form;  the 
Mpt  soul  catcliQft  l\i©  ton©  cS  Vnft  W^  mw\^ 


in  mirrendering  mil  to  bim^  finds  I 
speakAbly  blessed.  Not  only  •! 
emn  crowds  are  kneelin^^  or  it 
silent  hour  is  passed  in  prinitA  i 
but  everv-where,  is  a  sa-  * 

Every  pursuit  is  cofis^-  I 

word 8^  indee<l,  are  used.  No  t«J 
tal  knows  how  full  the  thoo^hl 
God,  Worship  is  ofl«:red  in  thd 
of  the  heart,  wiiil©  the  hands  . 
and  the  brain  task?  its  powcm 
to  him  blends  with  tvery  object 
We  care  for  nothing  in  wbici 
not  seek  his  sympathy  and 
The  inooccnt  pleasures  of  ouc 
others  are  deligbtfid,  becatise 
bis  goodness,  Sonxiw  is  mi 
Fweetness,  for  it  brin^  us  neas 
sj-mpatliy  an<i  consolation. 
and  disappointments  in  striving 
fection  no  lonsjer  mortify ;  for 
us  to  feel  more  sincerely  our  ne^ 
and,  in  making  as  bumble,  makj( 
truly  his.  Tins,  I  believe,  is 
the  apostle  Paul ;  what  he  fpfsk 
•^ faith  of  Christ,'  —  a  renting,  ai^  I 
God  ;  having  no  will  but  hia* 
192). 

SOUTHERN  WOMEN  IN  UTEJ 

It  13  very  depressing  to  look 
book ;  for  althoagh  a  wdl-« 
ume^  it  would  seem  to  he  oo| 
enforce  the  fact  that  there  re 
such  class  a4S  the  one  spH>ci4 
title*  There  are  many  weal 
of  extracts,  composed  of  I 
neatly  put  together  with  mo| 
pain  St  on  a  level  with  the  ar 
most  school  compositions  aj 
have  been  corrected  and  pfl 
by  a  higher  hand.  Tho  b 
contains  a  long  list  of  ni 
plume  and  otherwise)  fondly  i 
mentioned  as  belonging  to 
per^ns  of  whose  works  no  $ 
are  given.  Tho  latter  claafl 
said   to  be   the   best,    becatl 

«  The    LIvtnf   Fcmili    WHt«TB  oC 
?htWtd(^h]A ;  ClftUon,  II«iiimd    E  | 


BeeefU  School' Boaks,— New  No^eU  627 


rbebopad  qf   di#  uumil  eren  if  it  votb  pot  iiilollMbook«aif 

widi  tlie  eaceptiiHi  of  «|ieei-  to  be  sldiiped   b/  p^pili.    Ptflispi 

S    fev  weU-kiiawn   ^uthon  tbai   rutoe   boldi   poiest  wbik  1b# 

itlzigs  hftre  ftlmiix  reeciygd  raiome  nttaiu  wkfiovdM^;  is  wbkli 

veloQtoe   horn  1^  pvblk,  cMip  witk  Andrewi  aai  BtoUud  M 

BMB  of  mwffwrlw^  f«b-  tb#  boifc  alidf  and  WilBm  Hmmwf 

»  aeardi  lor  tbe  fsv  brigbt  Lalia  ibbj  be  i 

ly  Or  tirm  lor  tnooc^  soro 
)Mift  whkb  they  mmj  iumIiiiIj 


Mb.   Pombao  iwotmcCiJ    Mi 
:SXT  SCaOOL-aOOKSw  "*»^  oiid»fiJiK^fc  of  tbat  baldMr 

of  MUtoQ  wbo  ami,  ^  If  jou  w»iit  a 

rn    real  ^ood  baa,  nanBf  I  ailf M  jom  to 

hnp  A  ptgp**    Tbo  €af  part,  aodor 


«M  oat.    Tbw  b«  bM   F*^*^    ^'^  «'»'•  ^ 


Tn 

OM  of  Iba 
of 

i»  db»  ffOfffum^iliag  w^t h  In 

Mr«  Tannl^lii  U  n 

%»»mn  m  Cineinnoti  ^  Ati 

«f  fag^VO  pOOflM,  Or^  ' 


op  a  FifimSn  /if  mmU 


^lMI.Oiif<Mk%C)*i 


628 


Other  New  Books. 


that  hava  been  widely  circulated,  and 
added  a  larger  metrtca]  effort 

Tbere  is  real  poetic  feeling  in  all 
these  irerses.  A  pleasant  fancy  illu- 
mines  every  subject  he  handles ;  and, 
now  and  thon,  we  discover  evidence 
of  genuine  Imagination.  Hb  larger 
essay,  "  June  on  the  Miami/'  contains 
many  pictures  of  quiet  beauty,  that 
recall  sfummer  days  in  this  loveliest  of 
Western  valleys.  Mr  Venable  has  a 
wide  and  almost  untrodden  field  be- 
fore him,  in  the  delineation  of  the 
placid  loveliness  of  this  region,  in 
some  respects  the  most  attractive  of 
aur  country.    

NEW  NOVELS. 

Twe:sty  Yeaes  Ago.  Edited  by 
Mrs.  Craik.     Harper  <&  Brothers. 

The  Lost  IIeir  of  Linltthgow, 
By  Mis.  Southworth.  T.  B.  Peterson 
&  Brothers. 

Olivkr  Twist  Illustrated  edi- 
tion*    Harper  &  Brothers. 

KoRTHS&x  Lands  (Le.,  Young 
America  Abroad).  Second  Series. 
By  W.  T.  Adams  (Oliver  Optic). 
Lree  &  She  par  d, 

Mabbl  Lek.  By  the  author  of 
"Valerie  Aylmer."  Illustrated.  D. 
Apple  ton  &  Co. 

The  Nkw-Yejlr's  Bargain.  By 
Miss  Sarah  Woolsey  (Susan Codidge). 
Roberts  Brothers. 


K  OTBER  NEW  BOOKS. 

^V  Pbophbtic  Imfebialism  ;  or,  The 

r  Prophetic    Entail   of   Imperial 

I  Power,     By  Joseph  L.  Lord.     Hurd 

I  &  Houghton. 

r  Yesterdays  with  AtrrHORs.    By 

I  James  T.  Fields.     J.  B*  Osepod  ^ 

I  Ca 


A  Shabow  of  Da 
Essay  towards  stcdi 
HIS  World,  axd  his 
By  Maria  Francesca 
erts  Brothers. 

A  Maxual  OF  Exglisr! 
TURE.     By  John  S,  Hart 
&  Brothers. 

Badical  Problems.    ^ 

A.  BartoL     Boberts  Brolbe 
Thb  Thief  jk   thk  Nu 

Harriet   Prescott   SpoffonL 
Brothers. 

Sto&ibs  Told  to  a  Ci 
Jean  IngeJow.  Second  Serii 
trated.     Roberts  Brothers. 

Ax  Artistes  Jourxet^ 
Beinhanlt.  Translated  (tvU 
man,  by  Agnes  A.  B.  Blak 
of  Kandi  Avery,  &  Ca 

Thocghts  upon  Got] 
By  Arthur  Helps.     Boberts 

As  American  Gnu.  Arm 
Adeline  TrafUuK  HlostnuU 
L.  B.  Humphrey.     Lee  & 

The  Odyssey  of  Ho^flf 
lated  into  English  blaoj^^ 

C.  Bryant     Vol  2.    J^  TL 
Co. 

The  Crahiai.  Affdci 
Max  axd  thx  Ape.  (I 
Eecrestionis  in  Science,  N 
Prof.  R.  Virchow,     Lee  &  i 

Life  of  Hexry  Duxsn 
PsssiDEXT  OF  Harvard 
By  Beir.  Jeremiah  ChafiliB, 

B,  Osgood  &  Co, 
Three  Ckntitries    of 

LiTERATtrRB.      By     Ch 

Yonge,     D,  Apple  ton  St  Cdi 

Christ  ix  Modsssi  Lx 

Moxs.     By  BeY,  Stopfbid  j 

D.  Apple  ton  &  Cou 
OiTR  Poor  K£LATio!fiL 

K.B.Hwiiley.     J,  E.  TU^ 


ooo^nDoy  of  ou*  maftees  ik 


atjil 


within  a  few  days,  visited  the  gallery  in  its  temp«>T«j 
assure  the  public  of  iU  Importance.  The  sneer  at^ 
the  past,  our  want  of  appreciation  of  the  old  mas(| 
forth  be  indulged  io*  The  sensibility »  imitative 
Americans  will,  now  that  a  centre  is  formed, 
tiibuting,  at  even  lavish  expense,  additional  treasury 
The  friendly  rivalry  of  the  two  nascent  museums  ( 
York  wUl  also  contribute  to  this.  A  museum  wi 
nation  an  object  of  pride,  and  no  longer  considered 
hospital  for  feeble  living,  talent,  or  a  show-place  for  tJ 
either  of  nature  or  art.  And,  after  all,  how  approp 
under  the  stupendous  .branches  of  that  tree  where  s^ 
ling,  the  dear  old  Dutchmen  of  Mr.  Irving*8  "  Knickei 
be  placed  the  glory  and  pride  of  Holland.  They  hav 
to  it  than  we.  It  connects  the  already  misty  past  i 
Twill er  with  greater  names  than  his,  of  the  same  st 
greater  antiquity. 

For  this  collection  is  almost  entirely  of  the  Dutch  s< 
Joshua  Reynolds,  a  few  French  and  ItaUan  pictures,  , 

Bart  nantes  in  gurgtte  vasto, 
in  this  great  outcome  from  Holland.  Thirty-two 
the  proud  pmcession  ;  almost  all  the  Vans  of  fame^ 
the  head  of  these,  we  must  place  an  Anton  Van  Dyck*^ 
interceding  with  God  for  a  oessation  of  the  plague  4 
^prhich  was  brought  from  Madrid^  —  in  humble  imitatii 


peM 


<ni 


of  Iks  fiiMK^  Ivr  tMir 
Vm  Dic^lDi  in  IW 


'Miiaeitai,  —  m  kaow  «if  ■• 


do  Doi  eare^  aor  ba^e  we  tk  wf  m»,  l»  »aki»  an  ««hau 

Qpoa  tlie  Mpatilt  mexils  of  Aoso  pieluros.    Thai  wiki  ue 

^;  aod  a  cMcfiil  aociee  of  tte  gyietj^^  wilb  ex|ilaMtk>w iind 

m  snitaUo  for  tlie  mfeedneotect  obierfer^  will  suoii  W  |>uli- 

m  New  Tork*    It  k  toca^li  now  to  give  o  ooidial  wokomo  W 

loTelj  emigroiite*  these  daifiigo  of  eo  nuuiy  ohl^)CMiiilry  fifo- 

Thej  drop  ttpoa  w  like  a  eload  of  binb»  in  oompiaci  boauty, 

for  tioarisiiiDent  aod  weloomo  at  our  hamU ;   atiU  iixsal 

I7  they  shall  have  iL     Alreadj  a  strong  mixm  of  exuUmion 

'poaseasioii  can  be  dL^covered  in  the  art-loTOM  of  New  York. 

the  long  torture  and  deception  of  fake   origiuiili^   ItaiiihaeU 

never  saw  Italj^  Titians  and  Corr^gios  which  wen*  enuu^h  to 

aility  forswear  its  interest  in  great  tiiimest*  at  la^nt  a  uio«l 

itic^  genuine^  yet  unpretending  cluster  of  tiller  of  world-wide 

justly  associated,  we  can  be  coofident,  witli  these  piotunm, 

like  visiting  Europe,  to  euter  the  giiUery.     Tlie  absienco  of  all 

siou  and  garii»hness  strikes  you  at  once.     There  in  the  rrpo«e 

>r  which,  so  often,  our  jaded  workem  seek  the  shorpH  of  the 

Tone  and  tranquillity  affect  the  t^cnsen  of  tliw  fevrrtul 

rorker  as  with  the  touch  of  a  fair  nurse's  hand,  drawing  out  of 


"  That  unrest  which  men  miscall  delight  j  '* 

noar  and  trouble  of  the  street  disappear ;  he  ft^eU  at  once  that  he 

m  ftanetuary*     It  is  medicine  for  his  hurt  activities;  it  will  build 

him  that  chapel  of  ease  where  the  spirit  loves  to  bow  itiielf 

the  great  altar  of  art,  above  which  burn^*,  with  the  railiance 

Itiu'-lighta,  ibe  great  constellation  of  the  manti  m  of  the  pant. 

4?  have  isaid  that  we  did  not  care  to  review  in  detail  the  pi<;turoi 
^Jleiy ;  but»  to  interest  oar  readers  in  it,  we  wUi  juat  i^Mtum 
-^    ilaw. 

ux^  aa  to  the  galleiyV  deteieiidea,  m  Bm^niinM  of 

^Dutch  MThooL     One  really  can  only  be  surpriMd  bow  very  foil  and 

ia.    A  ooUeetioti  so  pmehaaed  caiikt  baldly  U  eifMitftcd 

otely  eoa|ilele ;  and  yet  E  ki  ▼ery  ac««iy  acj>    Mm.  of 

with  the  gimt  mieekm  OMterpieeea  (4  mmm  %%%  01 


ness  of  cur  position  here,  in  relation  to  art^  made  it  ^ 
where  to  begin;  but,  now  that  we  have  beguiu  wej 
move  alonj:'  the  whole  line. 

Sitnult^oeouBly  with  this  arrival  from  Holland  in 
to  us,  in  Boston,  a  venerable  collection  of  marbles 
Cyprus.  All  old  buildings  get  buried,  as  we  eee  ill 
more  than  thirty  feet  of  earth  entomb  pavement  ani 
these  in  Cyprus,  —  we  can  well  understand  how  the^ 
They  are  the  remains  of,  and  were  dug  from  uudd 
temple  of  Venus,  whose  island  liome  gave  it«  name  to 
Here,  surrounded  by  the  blue  sea  she  sprang  from,  I 
melliug  into  the  sunshine  of  that  pagan  isle  of  p 
travellers  and  sailors  aud  devotees  brought  to  her  theij 
every  quarter  of  the  globe, — ^  we  can  well  understand! 
became,  fiaally,  buried,  lost,  and  forgotten,  A  fortuni 
has  induced  our  consul  to  offer  to  us  a  selection  from  tl 
they  have  just  arrived.  They  consist  mostly  of  pott^ 
little  statues ;  a  number  of  little  heads,  some  wit 
expression;  a  great  many  toys  of  potter3\sucb  as 
sold  at  country  faii-s  in  Italy;  some  bronzes;  and 
teresting  collection  of  glass.  Some  of  these  rema 
to  a  fabulous  antiquity.  Certain  forms  uf  pottery  > 
those  discovered  in  the  lacustrine  deposits  of  the  coi 
bear  the  mark  of  the  childhood  of  each  race.  Our  Ini 
^■^Iffl&fe^Pili  it^^"^ '  ^^^^  there  they  stop,  doomed  to  a  lie 


Hutory  of  Ancient  Art 


633 


m  tts  rich  carnatioas  ;  of  the  Hu}*smaiis,  one  of  whose  pic- 
the  material  grandeur  of  size  and  8pace«  as  well  as  of  treat- 
\k{  the  beautiful  Ostades,  culottS$  to  gold  by  the  breath  of 
nd  of  the  perfect  Teniers,  so  argentine  where  the  others  are 
of  the  stioug,  dii-ect  painting  of  the  head  by  van  der  Helst^ 
jood  as  it  is,  we  are  glad  to  know  is  exceeded  by  a  nobler 
r  him,  in  Boston  ;  of  the  van  der  Hejden,  true,  broad,  and 
j^et  as  usual  with  every  brick  visibly  built  into  the  houses  of 
h  burgomasters.  When  one  thinks  of  his  not  few  pictures  in 
m  collections,  one  marvels  at  the  number  of  bricks  he  has 
Ito  their  places.  The  hod-carrying  Irishman  might  make  a 
t  of  this  excellent  van  der  Heyden.  The  van  der  Meulens, 
ed  and  historic,  remind  one  of  the  liouvre  bombardments  by 
LIV.,  caracoling  in  his  unwarlike  wig,  on  white  horses*  while 
t  ladies  look  out  over  their  fans  coquettishly  at  the  distant 
What  admirable  van  der  Neers  I  that  aunset,  so  placid, 
mod  serene ;  and  his  beautiful  moonlight,  —  beautiful  as  it 
n  when  he  paints  it. 

le  large  and  famous  Rubens,  painted  at  hi^  best  time,  just 
xetum  from  Italy,  —  the  only  historical  Rubens  in  America,  — 
d  gladly  speak ;  but  the  reader  must  see  it  for  himself-  So, 
e  Reynolds ;  the  striking  Velasquez ;  the  dreamy  van  Poelen- 
id  so  many  more  that  we  must  cry,  *'  Halt  I ''  to  our  agi'cealile 
ranee  of  our  late  vii^t  to  this  coltecton,  cordially  congratulating 
rk  on  its  pogaession,  and  inviting  Bostouiaus,  when  in  that 
make  time,  out  of  their  business  hours,  for  a  soothing  visit 
ibich  they  will  never  regret.  T.  G.  A. 


BY  OP  ANCIENT  ABT.» 

uui  who  first  saw  with  his 
imacM>tui)es9,  and  evolved 
the  pbm,  thorough,  oompre- 
appreciative^  of  a  history 
lofig^  the  aocientdy  was  John 
Ikmsin.  He  brought  to  his 
jd^rtaking  a  most  complete 
with  the  classics.  It  was 
be  was  the  only  man  in 
tlie    tixQe  of  his   residence 


br  a.  0.  iMw^  Toll.  1.  ftod  u. 

■.  Tot  m.  J,  R.  0«f  •od  4  Co. 


there,  possessed  of  a  critical  knowl- 
edge of  the  Greek  language;  he  had 
an  intuitive  love  of  beauty,  and  had 
added  to  it  a  thoroughly  educated 
t&ste^  formed  by  the  best  masters.  He 
tells  us  how  difficult  he  found  it  to 
see  the  beauty  in  some  ancient 
statuary :  *'  I  did  not  look  upon  the 
works  of  art  as  be  did  who,  whea 
he  saw  the  ocean  for  the  fir^t  time, 
said,  *It  is  a  pretty  sight.'  Kon- 
wonderment,  which  Straho  extols,  be- 
cause it  begets  composure  of  the  mind, 
I  prize  highly  in  ethics,  but  not  in 
apt :  hero  indiffeieuc^  is  ^t^^\k4vc.\isXI' 


634 


nistory  of  Ancient  Art 


He  is  *'firm  in  the  belief  that  the 
Good  and  ISeautiful  are  the  same." 

Dn  Lodge  bii3  performed  bis  work 
of  translatioa    with  car«  and   taste  j 
and  it  is   to  be  hoped  that,  iu  the 
strong  interest  in,  and  increiising  i4>- 
preciatton  of,  art,  now  existing,  bo  may 
feel    himself  somewhat  rewarded,  as 
one  of  those  who  have  aided  in  the 
good  work.     Tliough  the  book  may 
not  attain  the  circulation  it  deserves 
in  a  short  time,  yet  it  will  always  be 
a  standiird  work  j  its  value  to  the  art- 
student  has   been  kiiowu   for  a  long 
time,  but  a  large  class  of  readers  have 
een  debarred  from    enjoying    it    in 
ts  original  form.     There  is  a  pleasant 
eketdi  of  Winekelmann,  hy  the  Ger- 
man editor  of   the   edition  of  1825, 
Eiseleiu;  and  we  gain  from  it  an  idea 
of  his  simple  nature,  ardent  love  of  the 
beaatifulj     antiquariaa  research,  and 
entire  devotion  to  art.     He  was  born 
at    Stendal,   in  Bmndenburg,   in    the 
year  1717 ;  he  was  the  son  of  a  eob- 
bier,  who  wished  him  to  learn  his  own 
trade;   but,  urgetl  by  his   son,  he   al- 
lowed him  to   attend  a  school  where 
the   classics    were  taught;  this  gave 
his  mind  a  wide  and  extend<L'd  field 
fur  thought  and    growth.      He    was 
early  excited,  by  his  studies,  to  a  desire 
for  travel.     While  at  the  University 
of  Halle,  we  are  told,  **be  translated 
and  explained  Herodotus,  as  if  inspired 
by  a  genius."     He  taught  in  various 
plar.es;  and,  tvftcr  a  time,  was  appointed 
to  be  associate  rector  of  a  school  at 
Seeliausen  in  Altmark  ;  which  yielded 
the    large    income    of   two    hundred 
and  fifty  thiders,  or  one  hundred  and 
ninety-three     dollars.     He    wrote   of 
his  distaste  for  this  drudgery :  **  I  have 
enacted    the  Bchoot master  with  great 
fidelity,  and    taught    children    with 
ftcabby  beads  to  road  their  A,  B,  C; 
wliilst   I,    during   this   pjistinie,   waa 
ardently  longmg  to  &ltuimto«^V\i(^'9«V 


edge  of   the  beaut" 

peating' similes    from 

Saxony,  I  copied  ancient 

chronicles,    and   "The  Lir< 

Saints/*  during  the  entire  di 

phoclcs  and  his  compaiiionj 

But  at  that  time  I  wivs  4X»j 

ing  to  myself,  what  I 

present  time,  Courage. 

thou  didst  endure  a  worse  e 

might  seem  born,  as   it 

instruction  of  youth,  wag 

neither    by    labor     m 

ness."    Carlyle  has  a 

him  while  at  Soebausen  \ 

year  1715,  there  were  f< 

masters  in  that  region 

berg,  one  at  Seehaube 

ben),    of   extremely 

who,  in  spite  of  the  Ei 

between^  used     to    m 

nights,  fat  collo(|uy,  f< 

of  books»  and  the  like.*' 

"  was  the  Wine kcl man 

in  after  years."  Wincki 

very  hard,  in  addition 

duties,  and  sat  up  in  a  ch 

that  lie  might  lose  no  time  j 

ing  his  studies  in  the 

spent  much  time  in 

of  the  clast»ics,  and  in 

authors^  in   his  own   and 

guages.    He  finally  had 

rel  with  the  rector,  whicli 

of  his  leaving  Seehanso 

preached   each   Sunday, 

obliged  to  attend  the  sei 

in  the   habit  of  readiii 

the  service^  in  some   uf 

classics,  and  openly  ex| 

like  of  the  sermons. 

ported   by  some   friend  \q  ill 

naturally  displeased  him;  ati 

Winckelmann  his  plac 

situation;  and  afterwardi 

Cleinow  wrote,  **  I  still 

looks    with    which     I 


o  nme  | 
le  wgd 


SiMsffy  o^ 


Art 


63S 


rortli  r  t4i  be  xmlmt  t» 


l4rfti 

|]ti0  esEpMnot  bt 
likrarian  to  C<iit3kt 

maf  lliere  be  bad  tb* 
jiof  Toca  BuAaa 
diil  J  Iftbor  m  it 
I  Dreadea  beauide  mTkit  t» 
where  bis  jvwieg 

\mmtm  ti  Fradedck  tbe 
AtbcM 

SDedwiib 
:  ta«mfds  tbe  gnilibB  kiag:" 
wa  tbe  k»&  YekMitt, 


i&  all  flifffltj, 


[  i»  die  atedkfflf  of  bklotfy,  vnie 
a  lbs  suDe  je«r  wbea  Wiscb- 
iv    tbe     «<godlibe 

is    Speitm    and 

loe  —  a  cmnp  of  Mm,  and 

en  of  Ilpicfuu^  m  liid  pbi- 

—  A    caiioQa    nwbuilj  of 

00   two  amd^  ee 

«booi  tbe  beio  of  tbe  Seven- 

Fredoiefc  biiudf 

Wutebebneaa,  lor  be 

tbe   most  heioic  end 

I  cbmmcter  of  tbe  ceotnir. 

at  ^dtbenll,  Wmckelmfluui 

Ito  tbe Boinaii Catb* 

,  or  latber  fboiid  that  »  pro- 

'  is  would  facilitate  bis  desire 

mnd  preparation    m 

For  a  loDg  time  he 

in  bis  profeeeioa  of  hia  new 

,  lie  Ibacid  how  much  aorrow 

bid  friends.     Goethe 

f  litiii  that  he  was  a  bom  hea- 

who  thought  not  sts  a 

a.  bat  in  the  spirit  of  a  Grecian 

He  hixudelf  wrote  of  his 

Bentiment^  that  readon  dio 

►  him  :  ^'^  She  ia  of  the  opinion, 

f  tbai  we  mzj  look  beyond  and 

tbeatxical  iUittioDd;  that 


of  GmdE  Wcnto  m 

i'^irbkli  did 

tin  be  wai  dml^-^iiai 


UlTSSvb 

Hei 

btififeki 
Wbfle 

efbk( 

Saidea, 

L  Like  Manm  Plaotnis  SHoi- 
with  Angitstiis  and  c^o* 
•f  lUjziai  wbo  daeeCed  ata* 
je«s  ealj  lo  be  pot  upon  bia  loeibi  ae 
tbe  IcBgtb  eC  bieltfe,beniig  tbe  time 
be  tpettt  at  bia  ¥iia  ait  Tivt>lt,  WiDckd^ 
mmam  Baabered  bia  jeers  in  Rone^  and 
«ae  deepi J  ilepfPBMed  witb  tbe  fasoi- 
«f  tbe  "*  Eternal  Citj. "  Aa  S«i- 
of  Jbitiiqeitiea^  be  wa« 
often  aaked  to  show  CzaTeUen  of 
high  laak  tbe  narrela  and  dasi^ic  art 
of  Bome;  amd  ai  timea  be  waa  greatl j 
annojed  witb  tbe  reqiiest,  aa  be  Icnmd 
tbem  often  tndiiiEnfit,  or  uninteffested 
in  the  antiqinties.  He  plainlj  told 
Lord  Baltimore  hi»  opinion  n^gardin^ 
hi^  want  of  tsh^te  ;  ahsolutely  rvfus4Hi 
to  accompanj  bim  to  Kaplea.  He 
also  left  the  Duke  of  Gordon  and  two 
other  Bohlemeny  with  whom  he  had 
consented  to  tniTel,  at  thii  end  of  a 
fortnight,  becauie  be  funnd  in  th«^Qi 
no  taste  and  byre  for  the  b^autifuL 

Frederick  the  Great,  wbom  m^coe- 
s\tj  had  ntade,  for  a  time,  more  con- 
versant with  the  ravages  of  war  than 
the  art»  of  peace,  through  one  of  hii 
old  Boldieri,  known  hjr  the  nickname 
of  CoL  Qiihitu»  Icdvna,  ott«ei\*  vkimV 


who  needg  not  make  a  tender  of  his 
services,  should  receive,  at  least,  as 
as  much  as  one  to  whom  a  call  u  sent 
from  the  Frozen  Otiean,  —  from  St 
Petersburg/*  He  alludes  to  the  math- 
ematician Maupertuis,  whom  Fred- 
erick had  persuaded  to  leave  Paris  for 
Berlin,  ^*  Yet  he  ought  to  know  that 
I  can  be  of  more  advantage  than  a 
mathematician ;  and  that  the  experi- 
ence merely  of  ten  years  in  Rome  id 
far  more  expensive  than  just  the  same 
number  of  years  spent  in  calculating 
proportions,  parabolic  lines, — which 
can  be  done  in  Tobolsk  as  well  as  in 
Smyrna,"  And  his  offended  pride 
ends  with  an  allusion  to  a  remark 
made  by  a  public  singer  in  a  similar 
case  at  Berlin.  "  Oh,  well  I  then 
make  your  general  sing."  Frederick, 
on  his  accession  to  the  throne,  wrote 
with  his  own  lumd  to  Mauper- 
tuis  thus :  "  You  have  shown  the  fig- 
ure of  the  earth  tq  mankind;  show 
also  to  a  king  how  sweet  it  is  to  pos* 
sesa  such  a  man  as  you/'  Carlyle 
adds,  "Who,  of  men  or  lions,  could 
resist?"     But  years,  and  experience 


f<^^ 


to  bis  friend  Caq 
aasure  your  Exiiell 
gold  in  the  world  ^ 
from  Rome/'  Axi 
steps  by  the 
he  was  detains 
ing  a  vessel  fo 
had  taken  passage.' 
sight  of  four  medd 
the  others  of  aiJrd 
gifb  of  Maria  tI 
Kaunitx,  excited  t] 
Arcaugoli,  an  esci 
this  wretch  baselj 
having  wormed  hi| 
Edenee  in  order  to  i 
So  died  John  Wii 
fifty- first  year  d  j 
the  hand  of  an  assa 
plicity,  timidity,  i 
nature,  made  him  \ 
Arcangeli,  whom  h^ 
iug  a  casual  acquaif 
and  friendly  manQ 
of  his  de^th  he  h 
years  the  office  of  | 
Antiquities  in  and  f 
appears  to  hare  bej 


Mstory  of  Ancient  Art 


6S7 


id  the  "  Description  of  the 
Gems  in  the  Cabinet  of 
ch."  He  left  unfinished  his 
on  Ancient  Architecture." 
on  Ancient  Monuments  is 
iquarian  investigation  and 
i "  History  of  Ancient  Art," 
at  greatest  of  his  works^ 
D  print  first  in  1764.  He 
3  idea  of  the  need  and  pos- 
uch  a  work.  "  After  nearly 
Ired  years,  there  came  at 
i  when  some  one  ventared 
(ystem  of  ancient  art ;  not 
thereby  the  art  of  our  own 
ch  it  is  able  to  do  for  few 
rho  practise  it,  —  but  to 
1  to  study  and  admire  an* 
The  history  is  not  ^a 
icle  of  epochs,  and  of  the 
lich  occur  within  tbem,^ 
story  of  art  I  have  exfftz/td 
iscorer  the  tmch ;  MsAf  m^ 
\  ererj  Aemahit  opfiwtift' 
isnreJy  inTcstr^^ktitt^  uh» 
the  madetttBf  auui  hx^it 
pains  ta»  •btacoi  dut-  m^m- 
of  loMvwDeiijpf^  I  hidixi^vnii 
ifKte&e  t»  Tniilftctuic»  'isJ^ 
fid  ku  IkisfiaBy  -^  Zip  J&fC  Mui 
jui  t»  &!»  finiuui  &A^hiuiL 

'  in-  j^jBHUHfil  ani£  BRiyumji^. 
Rdiasmani:  iiL  &:»  BKuiKc:. 

ksBB   »  nUHC  f»iM7»C«i  sui 

i<  Iff  &i» ^vnsk ::  ic  -.wi»  riR^.. 

£  &i»  mattazaitt  inm  ul 
if£  moilit-  fKwir?  *^ijnif  «uv^ 
Ei»  ;pntt:  art:  iiumir^ 
sui  utM  mf  riiit  fiirmaxinn 
Hvhvmi  -mtnui  *  3ty 
^.  ntfwwti  «u'  n  'vtvi 
hm:*9imtmmt>ei    n    in**: 

mjr  oDNPOi  tttmMititi  ff^  ^^tw 


bs: 


style  of  composition/*  lie  ttnihN)  lh# 
zeal  and  patience  of  a  Warn^Hi  auli« 
quarian,  with  the  lore  of  th«»  Wauli^ 
ful  which  can  only  bo  shown  by  **  %h^ 
greatest  of  the  oonnoisaeuM  of  aH«** 
The  language  of  WinokeImann»  in  hi« 
History  of  Art,  was  grand  ami  im» 
pressive;  and  his  styU,  whioh  had 
originally  been  formal  and  ntlffi  Ihi* 
came,  with  the  magnltudti  of  hlii 
greatest  theme,  ehM|M0nt  and  fiill  of 
force.  He  meditated  thrirn  moittlm 
upon  the  description  of  thu  *'  Tol^ii/* 
and  upon  the  plan  of  his  hidt^try  an 
entire  jf^ur.  Time  cannot  [m  imttiHl 
miMpent,  whi#;h  In  difVot<id  Ui  nitiOt 
thought  and  mMltii^iUm, 

ll'm  gntrat  4Ufnirft  w««  Uf  fftakft  U  a 
nuMFt^rrpfM;^  ff(  Umniy,  and  a  irlbfttn 
t#>  th«  cUmui  art  with  whi#}ti  hi*  wm 
imhnetL  It  w  %hm  f*#MH  ttf  a  \\tt»- 
tioMr  sfMtiiS  io  ifinfly  f4  %\m  ¥\ftmt*n\n 
<9f  hfUMtf  f4  ffmUf  tifA^f  a^l  H%\ffiH^ 

thA  (%v\'j^ik^  f4  ;«#r.^  mcA  fiA^  <v##^4^  //f  \Sm 

'iAniv^  ^idi'  nh«%  ^i«fi^  jiiMi  p¥^f^m  ^ 
^inffiii.   Krifli«iw»«it,.  A»»d»   |K»y4iM»\a^  ^mf 

if  iiiir  4n4ii^tiiinttw.  fVnm  r'lwh  '5i*i 
:T»»U*r  -nrtv  i**«^  ^  *'•**  jrnv<^^  V* 
:nf'  mii  "^ii**  ii«'«'»lrtf>m*mt  '»f  *Ut^  'U^situ 
it'm  Mrtmi(|";ii*  ^^stta^tm  ttaiimm,     Jul 

^n:f>«>i7tt««lt«  }rvtnitU^«  msi  uttvutiU,  i0Ui 
mmn  ni    y$    v*r?  yW :  -Wi  ^W^  '**''•** 


638 


Sisiory  of  Ancient  Art 


of  boauty,  as  time  rolled  on.  With 
the  tlescriptions  of  the  studies  made, 
and  the  references  to  classic  authors 
in  whose  writings  may  he  found  allu- 
sions to  the  quaint  and  curious  stat- 
ues mentioned,  this  part  of  hia  work 
is  completed. 

The  second  Tolume  is  more  inter- 
esting to  the  general  reader :  it  treats 
of  Grecian  art,  and  its  superiority 
over  that  of  all  other  nations  of  an* 
tiquitv.  With  the  influences  of  cli- 
mate, natural  beauties,  and  the  poetic 
nature  of  the  Greeks,  a  new  and  mar- 
rellous  development  of  art  was  pro- 
duced. The  social^  religious,  and  po- 
litical condition  of  Greece,  with  its 
national  freedom,  gayety,  veneration, 
and  admiration  for  the  beautiful  and 
grand  in  art  and  litemtnre  in  all 
their  manifestations,  contributed  to 
fo^^ter  and  cherish  the  natural  love  of 
the  beautiful  in  nature  and  art  in  the 
**  Isles  of  Greece,"  The  climate  also 
had  an  influence,  at  that  period,  in 
producing  great  beauty  of  form  and 
face  in  mankind  ;  and  we  see  the  per- 
fection of  the  human  figure  in  statues 
of  antiquity  left  us  by  the  great 
masters  of  ancient  art.  In  the 
Greek  statues  of  gods  and  goddesseSj 
heroes  and  heroines,  we  see  the  ideal 
lieauty  of  the  human  figure.  In 
the  Ajwllo,  Mars,  Mercury,  and  Bac- 
chus, we  see  four  types  of  manly 
beauty  and  youth;  in  Jupiter  and 
the  Grecian  heroes,  we  see  the  dignity 
and  lofty  bearing  of  added  years 
and  middle  age.  In  Juno  and  Mi- 
nerva, we  see  matronly  dignity  and 
lofty  wisdom.  In  the  Graces  and  the 
Nymphs,  the  charm  and  beauty  which 
is  found  only  in  youth,  passing  away 
with  matnrer  years.  We  have  the 
various  aspects  which  grief,  joy,  and 
the  phases  of  the  mind,  produce  on 
the  countenance^  the  expression  of 
each  feature,  and  t\v©  iuat  ^v^^ttxciii'ft 


and  proper  altitudca 
antique  figures,  all  pi 
these  pages. 

The  third  vol n me,  which 
been  published,  treats  of  the  i 
eal  part  of  tlie  i>ractice  of 
th  e  ch  an  gos  fou  nd  th ere.  1 1  < 
the  study  of  drapery  in  difff 
terials,  and  of  the  ornament 
of  the  garments  of  the  uDci«i 
their  forms  and  textures.  ] 
include<l  a  description  of  ' 
arms,  and  armor  worn,  the  t 
sandals,  anri  the  style  of 
the  hair.  The  hair  was  cut 
sign  of  grief  and  mourn 
"jealous  huJiban»is  likewise 
their  wives'  hair,  parti  j  as  i 
ment  for  having  east  looks  < 
ness  upon  others,  and  parti 
pel  them,  by  this  means,  \ 
home.'*  The  processes  of 
are  shown,  and  the  mate: 
therein;  clay  and  wax  for  i 
iron;  marbles  of  all  colors; 
ver,  and  bronze  ;  and  gema  f 
liosy  with  the  effects  proc 
these  substances,  so  different 
ity,  color,  and  delicacy.  O 
painting  he  gives  us  a  sketcl 
the  style  of  monochnime,  or 
painting,  which  simply  con| 
painting  with  a  white  or  red 
dark  background  j  and  later 
further  step  in  painting,  t!u 
pressing  shatle  and  tone,  W 
very  learned  and  thorough  ad 
the  steps  by  which  the  art  of' 
attained  the  x^^'i'fection  to 
was  brought  by  RaphaeL 
have  a  chapter  on  the  rise  ai 
Greek  art^  and  the  indicat 
which  it  is  seen  in  the  varioi 
First  there  was  the  hard 
unnatural  .sternness  of  the 
sculpture ;  then  came  ' 
he  terms  the  grand  j-t 
«ci  ^^^\£v^«i  ^il  ^Wt  the 


Hisiory  of  Ancient  Art 


«S9 


'tliei 


93^  Tier  ^aaghtera,  **  as 
works  tf>f  the  grand  style." 
seHool  he  says,  **It  Je- 
j  noderatanding  to  ex- 
^igntficaiit  and  a[>eaking 
soul ; "  for  "  the  imita- 
TiolcDt,-'  as  Plato  savs* 
ID  diflTerent  wajs ;  but 
meanor  can  neither  be 
itated,  nor,  when  imitated, 
Wnpreheodeii."  We  think 
rho  hare  seen  the  group  of 
»  impressed  with  the  repose 
gnres.  Of  the  third  period 
speaks  as  the  beautiful ;  and 
>egau  with  Praxiteles,  and 
bi  highest  splendor  through 
and  Apelle^.  Its  distin- 
cbaracteristic,  and  that 
irks  it  from  the  grand  style, 
l>  *  -^ftne^s.     The  imita- 

11  ,  in  their  desire  for 

irent  too  far,  and  sacrificed 
expression*  **  Hence  art 
ima  dull,  just  aa  an  axe 
dull  on  the  wood  of 
^tree  than  'on  tliat  of  the 
vciselj  in  the  same  way, 
has  at  all  times  crept  into 
yf  writing;  and  thus  music, 
its  manly  tones,  degen- 
e  ait,  into  the  effeminate/' 
iks  that  as  the  artists  of  the 
beautiful  in  Grecian  art 
Iter  be  copied  nor  surpassed 
III u re,  ^*  inasmuch,  therefore, 
J  Dot  advance,  it  must  go 
I  b#caitae  in  it,  as  in  all  the 
of  Nature,  we  cannot  think 
tatiopary  point*'  Perhaps 
lin  a  hint  which  will  ex- 
waot  of  grace  in  iu<jdern 
we  learn,  lliat,  in  the 
Soman  art,  the  artists  be- 
«aafit  ^tiiale  statues  in  a 
>a  fltraii  coat,  which  waa 
1  of  the  day,  but  Isad  sol 
and  dignity  of  the  doal^ 


with  its  ample  folds  an-^   ^  ^  dra- 

pery.   As  oratory »  accoi  i^i^ 

went  out  from  Athena  into  all  latids^ 
and  was  carried  frem  the  Pinpus  to 
all  the  nations  of  the  Meditcrraneaiiy 
so  Grecian  art  has  beconit*  di^tide<<l 
over  all  Europe ;  ami  *ht*  wlio<i*  ora- 
tors, philosophersi,  poctJi,  pain  tow,  and 
sculptors  once  delighteii  thoir  own 
land  and  age,  continues  to  t«»uch  and 
beautify  the  motliTu  world  of  Utanic 
ture,  art,  and  beauty. 

The  value  of  Winckclraann's  hia- 
tory  lies  not  in  his  critioi»m,  which 
may  be  differed  from*  hut  in  ihe  lon» 
of  the  beautiful,  tho  knowlodp*  and 
appreciation  of  it  he  show*,  in  hi* 
cla^ical  taste,  and  philotopliieal  re- 
search into  ancient  art.  Mis  com- 
ments on  I^Iichael  Angola  «e«»!«  *evi{»r>is 
even  unjust.  Oiio  fif  hiit  work  a,  that  of 
Apollo  flaying  MarnyaA,  he  ceu^ur^ 
as  "  in  the  very  reviTse  of  gcKwl  taale," 
He  thinkj*  that  all  modi*rns  who  hato 
not  profoundly  ntudirul  and  fiillowwl 
the  ancient  art inta^  have  failed ;  uud 
tliat  the  want  of  rt'jwifte  is  the  ^:l'  mi 
defect  of  modern  art.  Uaphav^rA 
scholars  deserted  his  §tyln  for  the  new  *, 
and  Michael  Angelo,  he  tliiiiks,  **ori- 
ginated  and  promotinl  thin  rc^rrtiphon 
of  taste^eve^n  in  sculptunt/'  Mojirii 
painting  is,  in  bin  estimiition,  1<»^  in- 
artistic than  the  sculpture  \  booausd 
greater  fa«!ilitiL*s  havf  Iw^on  giv<m  it, 
and  it  ha^  b'*<*n  more  priM^tincd.  He 
says,  **  To  the  honor  of  the  pn*»ient 
age,  however,  it  niuiit  be  concfdfd, 
that  in  it  the  dilTusiun  of  knowlodgu 
in  regard  to  beauty  has  krpt  pace 
with  the  general  cultivation  of  the 
intellect.''  He  is  not  contented  with 
a  dry  recital  of  facts,  and  simply  pre- 
senting these  beautiful  monuments  of 
man's  fancy,  observation,  and  execu- 
tion, lor  onr  a^lmi ration  *  but  hts  invea- 
tigates  and  exhibits  for  us  tlie  souroea 
of  their  beanty  of  fcvna,  ^n^itefavitu^ 


640 


ExBtory  of  Ancient  Art 


and  position.  One  of  the  world's 
great*  cynics,  in  a  happy  mood,  though 
under  the  veil  of  satire,  said,  "  He  gave 
it  for  his  opinion,  that  whoever  could 
make  two  ears  of  corn,  or  two  hlades 
of  grass,  to  grow  upon  a  spot  of  ground 
where  only  one  grew  before,"  would 
deserve  well  of  mankind;  and  the 
man  who  teaches  us  more  fully  to  enjoy 
and  appreciate  the  beautiful,  where 
before  we  understood  it  not,  adds  a 


new  charm  and  pleasure  to  life, 
it  seems  to  us,  are  the  claims  of  ^ 
elmann.  His  aim  is  a  lofty  c 
plan  a  grand  one;  and  to  i 
greatness  of  design,  it  owes  it 
tations  and  deficiencies.  We 
Coleridge's  dwarf,  who  "  sees 
than  the  giant,  when  he  has  the 
shoulder  to  mount  on." 

Oracb  a. 


Rttorb  of  Progccss. 


IlipBfftin  t^le.iK 
^soeceedediB 
antidiais  a : 

be— a  1Mb  «f 


d  be  ill 


the  elements  of  the  question  into  account ;  and  he  fl 
that  events  have  occarred  as,  under  the  circur 
have  been  expected  to  occur.  The  repul^lic 
has  thus  far  succeeded,  because  it  was  built 
for  a  republic.  The  individual  men  were  trainc 
self-control  based  on  the  eternal  rock  of  Chri&& 
educated  from  1620  to  1776^  in  managing  first  th^ 
their  own  colonies,  then  their  own  partial  confe 
all,  in  the  short  but  most  healthfully  instructive 
defective  but  invaluable  workino:  model,  the  Confederi 
With  a  century  and  three-quarters  of  training  in  i( 
prove  that  they  could  peacefully  conduct  a  republic  j 
of  a  monarchy,  it  is  no  wonder  that  the  Americans  fal 
managed  their  republic.  It  would  have  been  the  grd 
history  if  they  had  fiiiled.  Not  one  other  republj 
since  1776  has  prepared  the  materials  before  buill 
Mexico  and  France,  Mazzini  and  Dilke,  alike,  have  \ 
the  shrewd  Spaniard  Prim  saw  clearly  was  impossilj 
without  republicans.  For  a  republican  is  not 
wants  to  be  governed  by  a  republic,  noT  to  goi 
first  of  all,  a  man  who  can  govern  himself.  He 
he  who  governeth  it,  or  a  State  either,  must  rank 
of  the  Bible. 

It  will  be  found  that  this  scriptural  conceptioS 
tainment^  in  goodness  jff  j^fintlfflil  Ifltll  ttlfr  rftlil   h\ 


t  tj^ 


Record  of  Progress. 


643 


Bopoly^  political  ambition,  ecclesiastical  zeal,  personal  impa- 
law  and  of  any  restraint,  —  all  of  them  having  their  only 
life  in  subtracting  strength  from  those  two  pillars*  Suppose, 
ace,  the  average  voters  in  New  York  City  had  been  thoroughly 
L  intelligent,  by  the  standard  which  George  Washington  would 
^vould  they  have  submitted  to  the  vulgar  tyranny  of  the 
icy  which  has  ruled  them  to  their  world-wide  shame  for 
If  the  average  of  our  voters,  all  over  the  country,  were  such, 
le  storms  of  political  lies  be  possible,  that  periodically  sweep 
land  ?  Or  would  the  decorous  attempts  of  one  and  another 
to  get  away  the  control  of  the  schools  from  the  people, 
to  pervert  the  use  of  public  money  for  the  purpose  ?  Or 
ihe  singular  eruptions  of  personal  scandals,  under  color  of 
rise,"  be  possible,  that  so  often  di.sfigure  so  many  of  our  newa- 
Or  could  efforts  after  reform  be  muddled  and  defiled,  becauae 
Bons  find  themselves  able  to  confuse  their  vanity  with  well- 
,  and  to  hide  their  evil  traits  under  a  cloak  of  fair  profession, 
i  throng  of  personages,  who  are  clean  enough,  no  doubt,  but 
from  being  shrewd  enough,  or  wise  enough  ? 
of  these  things  could  happen.  It  may  well  be,  that  the 
of  restraint,  by  law  and  by  custom,  would  steadily  diminish. 
antity  does  diminish,  and  apparently  wUl  continue  to  do  so. 
needed  is,  not  to  oppose  the  fact,  but  to  supply  the  comple- 
a^  Unless  the  American  citizen  becomes  more  and  more 
^Bk  liud  self-controlling  —  in  the  moral  sense,  not  merely  in 
bU  legal  sense  of  the  term  —  in  proportion  as  his  State  codes, 
tomarr  social  ordinances,  and  denominational  creeds,  relax 
id»,  the  joint  total  of  self  restraint  and  legal  restraint  does 
the  force  required,  and  so  much  of  anarchy  supervenes, 
pin,  there  is  an  almost  visible  approach  of  arithmetic  and 
>rals.  Strength  of  all  restraints  upon  the  individual  to  keep 
I  good  order,  say  one  hundred  :  supplied  by  forms  and  codes, 
;  supplied  by  the  intelligence  and  goodness  of  the  individual, 
If  the  latter  item  does  not  make  up  the  full  figure, 
in  due  proportion,  infallibly  attempts  to  supply  the  deficit, 
land,  is  the  theory  of  unsuccessful  republics.  Such  is  the 
of  our  own  future.  To  consider  its  problems,  to  solve  them 
rte.,  is  the  function  of  social  science,  —  the  newest  and  the 
all  the  sciences,  except  that  of  God. 


Ui 


Manufactures  in  the  North-^esL 


MANTJFACTUBES  IN  TEE  NORTH- 
WEST. 

The  observer  from  the  matiufac- 
turing  districts  of  the  Eastern  Sjates* 
familiar  with  the  great  diversity  of 
manufactures  there,  will  bo  struck  not 
only  with  the  limited  range  which 
the  manufactures  of  the  North-west 
have  taken,  but  also  with  the  extent 
and  perfection  which  those  njaniifac- 
tures  have  reached  within  that  limited 
range.  He  finds  their  manufactured 
goods  are  principally  lumber,  in  its 
varied  forms  of  building  material, 
agricultural  ioiplements,  and  farm 
machioeryj  and  other  heavy  or  bulky 
manufactures  of  wood  and  iron  ;  more 
lately  some  manufactures  of  paper 
and  woollen  goods  have  been  added. 

First  came  the  pioneer  settler.  The 
pioneer  blacksmith,  accompanied,  per- 
haps, by  the  wheelwright  or  worker 
in  wood,  soon  followed  the  pioneer 
farmer,  ready  to  build  or  repair  the 
rude  plough  or  wagon  of  those  days. 

This  was  the  begir^ning  of  manu- 
faeturing  in  the  North-west,  For 
ih^  plough  was  to  the  Western  pioneer 
what  the  axe  had  been  to  his  Eastern 
predecessor.  And  indeed  the  history 
of  the  plough,  taking  into  account  the 
improvements  made  in  its  construction 
during  the  thirty-five  years  from 
1837  up  to  the  present  time,  and  the 
increase  in  numbers  mantifactnred, 
might  well  be  taken  as  the  epitome 
or  tvpe  of  the  progress  in  tlie  manu- 
factures of  the  North-west  during 
that  period. 

The  plough  of  1837,  built  of  wood, 
with  mould-board  and  land -side  shod 
with  scraps  of  iron,  and  the  share 
pointed  with  iron  or  steel,  rude  and 
clumsy  in  its  beam  and  handle, 
enerally  without  wheel  or  coulter, 
was  constructed  by  the  blacksmith, 
who  had  set  up  his  forge  at  some 
^ss-roada,  ot    ueajc    ^om^  <2k>u\\Xt^ 


store.  If  he  was  a  man  I 
and  in  a  central  locati 
by  a  good  agricultuml  r^giol 
ployed  several  journ*?yuien 
three  workers  in  wood;  w^^ 
repairing  the  wagons  andftg!( 
implements  of  the  neighboril 
ers  and  shoeing  their  horsw 
built  from  half  a  dozen  tofift] 
annually,  as  they  were  otd«» 
farmers.  It  was  soon  found 
plough,  which  at  the  Esit 
8  we  red  in  some  degree  tb« 
which  it  was  designed,  i 
^ether  unsuitable  for  tb« 
soil  of  the  prairie  and  boDJ 
of  the  West  Nor  did  Um, 
pi  ought  which  came  into  sue 
use,  and  is  still  used  almost 
ly  at  the  East,  supply  the  n 
Western  farmer. 

In  1842  the  steel  monld-h 
began  to  be  used ;  and  now, 
out  the    West,  the    plough 
u^ade  of  steel,  hardened  a&4 
to  such  a  degree  as  to  Im| 
sustieptible  of  being  scratch! 
file.     No  iron  is  useil  in  it* 
tion  except  for  tl»e  rods  and 
wheel,  clevis,  and  a  casl-inK 
which  the  mould-board  and 
are  fastened,  except  when 
is  made  of  the  same  materti 

The  Western  plongh,  a« 
far  surpasses  in  beauty  of 
ship,  lightness,  and  etegsooi 
any  plough  made   or 
the  jUleghanies;    the 
former  as  compared 
iron  plough  of  the  Eaitei 
being  about  in  the  ratio  of 
one  hundred  an  J  twenty-fir 

The  broad,  level  prairie 
tom-lands  of  the  West^  &«« 
obstructions,  admit  of  th« 
machinery  more  p^r' 
plicated,  and  moru 


Jfanufactures  in  the  North-voest 


645 


ty  of  labor,  tHe 

"IbCmils,  necessitating  the 
11  of  a  large  area  in  order  to 
liing  remuDerative^  and  the 
her  and  variety  of  imple- 
niAcliinea  called  for,  hare 
the  inventive  powers  of 
lafactureni  of  agricultural 
ts  to  a  degree  unknown  be- 
,r  country  :  and  the  manu- 
rho,  taring  achieved  a  wide- 
lUtation^  should  rest  content 
idiieved  reputation  for  two 
years,  without  a  continual 
prove  the  construction  of 
[tne%  woold  soon  awake  to 
woma  more  enterprising 
h^A  gone  far  ahead  of  him, 
riren  bimout  of  the  market 
le  inventive  powers,  and  the 
tkiQg  investment  in  manu- 
enterprises,  have  been  very 
^eeted  towards,  and  concen* 
the  manufacture  of  agri- 

ents. 
k   Biver  Valley  and  its 
ricinity.  comprising  north- 
ItDois  and  a  part  of  south- 
has  become  one  of  the 
manaBkcturing  districts  of 
-west,  some  figures  drawn 
lauiofacturing  statistics  may 
.te  this    subject.      Rock 
through  a  part  of  its 
rock-bed  with  consider- 
aent  intervals,  supplies, 
iparatively   rare   at   the 
ej-power. 
emigration,  longj  before 
asly   but   wistfully  to- 
beauttful  valley,  began  to 
pidly  at   the  close  of  the 
War/'  which    ended 
drr  of  Black  Hawk 
ufacturing  may  be 
n  in  this  valley  at 
m  1843  to  1850. 
ict   sUouJd  alsa  include 


i«k 


the  three   towns  lying  about  Rock 

Island,  though  they  are  not,  strictly 
speaking,  in  the  Bock  Biver  Valley. 

Four  miles  above  the  junction  of 
Bock  Biver  with  the  Mississippi  lies 
Bock  Island,  three  miles  in  length 
and  with  an  area  of  about  nine  hun- 
dred acres.  This  island,  occupied  aa 
a  military  post  as  early  as  1816,  lying 
in  the  heart  of  the  North-west,  at 
the  head  of  navigation  for  large 
vessels  at  low  water,  and  having  a 
rock  foundation  that  places  it  out  of 
danger  from  the  highest  spring  tlood, 
is  peculiarly  adapted  to  the  purj>os6 
for  which  it  has  been  sele<:ted  by 
the  national  goveriynent^  namely,  the 
great  armory  and  arsenal  of  the  na- 
tion.^ 

Opposite  each  other,  on  the  Illinois 
and  Iowa  shores,  just  below  this  island, 
stand  the  cities  of  Bock  Island  and 
Davenport,  while  three  miles  above 
Bock  Island  (City),  on  the  Illinois 
shore  opfiosite  the  upper  end  of  the 
island,  lies  Moline. 

Taking  the  centre  of  the  bland  aa 
a  starting-point,  and  drawing  a  circle 
with  a  radius  of  three  miles,  you  in* 
elude  these  three  towns,  and  just  escape 
Milan  (formerly  Camden)  on  Bock 
Biver,  two  miles  above  its  mouth. 
These  four  towns,  with  an  aggregate 
population  of  thirty-five  thousand, 
whose  interests,  like  their  population 
and  boundaries,  are  rapidly  commin- 
gling, make  one  of  the  most  important 
manufacturing  centres  of  the  North- 
west 


1  Speaking  of  thl«  lilaad  lo  lt»,  Blabk  Hawk 
•aya,  *"  In  fn>'  early  li(b  I  #peDi  maiiy  happy  day* 
oo  thla  lilajid.  A  jifood  •pirii  had  core  of  It,  who 
Uv«d  la  a  cave  In  the  roebi  InuDedialely  under 
where  the  fort  (Port  Armiiroiifir)  now  •Unds,  and 
biu  often  beeo  mtwM  by  our  poople.  Ee  wa*  whLUi, 
wlih  1ar«e  wtnga  like  a  twan^*,  but  ura  tUnea  targ«r. 
We  were  particular  not  to  make  mocb  noise  la 
thai  part  of  the  island  which  he  lahabtted,for  fear 
of  dlaturhlng  him.  But  the  do  lee  of  the  ft>it  baa 
•Ince  drtven  him  away^  aad  no  dikiaAiV  i^  \iwl  Wj^alSi 
hma  lakea  iua  place.** 


« 


646 


Mamifaclures  in  the  Nortk-we^t 


At  Milan,  private  enterprise  has 
ju^t  coiupleted  a  substantial  dam 
across  Rock  Riv^er,  forming  a  fine 
water-power,  which  is  partially  used  in 
running  several  fine  mills  for  the  man* 
uiacture  of  floury  lumber,  and  paper. 

At  Moline  the  national  governmeat, 
besidejj  erecting  armory  and  arsenal 
buildings  upon  the  inland  opposite,  at 
UQ  expense  of  several  millions,  has 
btjilt  a  magnificent  atone  dam  twen- 
ty-four hundred  feet  in  length,  twenty 
feet  in  height,  and  eight  feet  in  width 
at  the  base,  of  limestone  laid  in  ce- 
ment, upon  the  solid  limestone  ledge 
at  the  bottom  of  the  river. 

This  dam,  in  connection  with  the 
lapida  at  the  head  of  the  inland,  gives 
perhaps  the  best  water-power  in  the 
West,  formed  by  about  one-third  of 
the  water  running  in  the  Mississippi, 
with  an  average  fall  of  seven  feet 
-  Owned  partly  at  Moline  and  partly 
by  the  national  government,  this  wa- 
ter-power is  intended  to  supply  not 
only  all  needed  power  at  the  armory 
buildingij  now  in  process  of  construc- 
tion on  the  island,  but  also  supplies  a 
vast  amount  of  power  for  manufac- 
tures at  Moline,  Manufactures  first 
commenced  at  this  point  as  early  aa 
1843^  and  tho  first  plough-shop  that 
manufactured  to  any  extent  was 
started  about  1847.  Now,  besides 
saw-mills  that  maoufat^ture  about  six- 
teen million  feet  of  lumber  annually, 
Moline  has  a  tub  and  pail  factory,  es- 
tablished in  1854,  employing  about 
one  hundred  and  fifty  men,  and 
manufiicturing  between  forty-five 
thousand  and  fifty  thousand  do^en 
pails  and  washboardf^,  and  from  twelve 
thousand  to  fifteen  thousand  dozen  of 
tubs  and  churns  annually;  two  plough 
factories,  one  the  largest  in  the  coun- 
try, and  the  other  nearly  as  large, 
the  two  employing  some  six  hundred 
men,   and  ptoducVn^   «t\wut   ^x-^v^ 


thousand  ploughs  and  cnltiii 
nually,  of  an  aggregate 
over  one  million  of  doUju^ 
ing  a  producing  capacity 
four  hundred  ploughs  per 
ping  their  goods  thioug 
Mississippi  Valley,  and  to  Ti 
foniia,  and  Oregon;  a  lai 
mill,  manufacturing  three 
day,  and  supplying  prinl 
for  several  Chicago  and  otli 
besides  large  quantities?  of 
paper ;  a  carriage  factory 
some  sixty  men,  9ind  turamj 
fifty  vehicles  of  vanotis 
week ;  a  manufactory  for 
separators,  and  corn-plan tei 
Lug  some  fifty  men  ;  a  foundr 
and  boiler  shop,  employing 
same  number  of  men,  and 
turing  almost  every  thing  i 
of  iron  work  from  a  bn 
steam-engine ;  a  scale  oom 
ufacturing  platform  sea) 
varying  from  tho^e  used  b 
and  grocers,  up  to  railroad 
pable  of  weighing  fifty  ton 
ing  about  twenty  men ;  a  fit 
woollen  mill,  pump  factory 
able  iron  works,  besides  vtu 
manufacturing  interests. 

Proliably  the  gross  sales 
manufactured  products  i 
two  millions  annually;  ai 
rapidly  increasing. 

Taking  the  street-ears^ 
of  the  three  railways  run  nil 
town,  a  ride  of  three  milei 
river  brings  us  to  Bock  1*1 
we  find  that  some  sixteen 
of  luinber,  and  large  qu&nti 
blinds   and   drx>rs,    are  m; 
annually  j  also  extensive 
cultivator  works,  manufact 
twelve  thousand  implemei 
woollen  mills,    a    tanneryi 
wagon,  and  street-car  shop< 


wiih  fim 

ill  imm  BaAl^bad{Gtj} 

wd,  will 

pfl  IS  uracil  ia«e  <if  m 
wn  thmn  eitber  of  tlie 
liUoci«d|  Ikiit  bas  som 
pumfactaxiiig  intenstm.  Its 
|iBanu£iictarD  Mue  tireiitj- 
Ml  ftel  of  limilwr, 
ne  boaiiieaiD  the 
I  mlif  bliodflf  and 
I  flbo  ItflB  its  plofigli  hdjaitjf 
wlorsliopii  die  two  prtMiti* 
|r  Mme  fbarUuNuand  implex 
krge  wooQeii  mill  celebrated 
Irielj  and  quality  of  tta  man- 
\  maoafactoriea  of  house- 
l^ool  farnitare,  of  thrcdhiDg 
liuid  horse  powets*  Carriage 
Ifjoit  mill%  and  cooper  shope 
HpMUllO  of  floor  barrels, 
Pltonfactures  of  less  impor- 
fhe  extensive  brick-yards, 
f  all  these  towns  with  build- 
pal,  have  not  been  roentioneti, 
^mux  that  their  manufacture 
I  most  excludiTelj  for  home 
\QU*  These  four  towns,  be- 
large  amount  of  water- 
and  unemployed  at 
ilan,  have  peculiar  ad- 
man of  ac  to  ring  centre, 
opportunities  of  ship- 
the   various   railroads 


Rock  Mand, 

tike  Weetom  Union^  run* 

Beck  labad  to  Racine^ 

Boek  Islandy  itti , 

froa  St.  Louie  te 

,  mt  ihm  CMcage  aikd  North- 

;  tibe  Peeiim  aod  Book  Island, 

Peocia  to  Bock  Island, 

ead  the  Datenpart 

pvoeMB  of  oonstnio- 

HoBy  toc^  is  tke  western  bouadaty 
•f  die  graai  eoal  deposit  of  central 
^^^^  WB ;  and  a  good  quality  of  bitumi- 
eeal  is  laid  down  here  at  prices 
'    n  t2JK0  to  tadO  per  ton, 
tbe  nee  of   steam-power 


ioi-    faiyxng 


Agafliiy  lying  as  Uiey  do  upon  the 
Mieeiasippi,  these  towns  are  abun- 
dantly si^plied  with  lumber,  at  rea- 
semabKe  prices,  by  means  of  rafts  of  logs 
tfoated  down  from  the  **  Pineries  ** 
of  the  npper  river.  When  we  add 
to  these  adrantages  a  beautiful  loca- 
tion, healthy  climate,  good  water, 
sad  mano&ctures  already  started, 
and  condder  that  these  manufactures 
haire  grown  up  largely  since  the  war, 
and  some  of  them  within  a  few 
months  past,  we  are  prepared  to  be- 
lieve that  this  is  to  be  one  of  the  im- 
portant manufacturing  points  in  the 
Xortb-west, 

From  Rock  Island,  a  ride  of  fifty- 
five  miles,  most  of  the  way,  after 
leaving  the  Mississippi  four  miles 
above  Moline,  along  the  banks  of 
Rock  Kiver,  brings  us  to  Sterling. 
This  river  from  Sterling  to  Milan 
winds  lazily  along  through  low,  rich 
bottom-landa,  with  scarcely  any  per- 
ceptible fall,  except  at  one  or  two 
points.     At    StetUn^   ^«i    ^4 


648 


Manufactures  in  the  North-west 


limestone  rock  at  the  bottom,  which 
gives  this  river  its  name,  and  consid- 
erable falls  which  afford  valuable 
water-power. 

Sterling  is  a  lively  manufacturing 
and  commercial  town  of  four  thousand 
inhabitants ;  and  with  Rock  Fall  ly- 
ing upon  the  opposite  side  of  the 
river,  hut  really  a  part  of  the  same 
town,  has  two  large  foundries,  four 
flouring  mills,  repair  shops  of  the 
Chicago  and  North-west  Railroad, 
a  large  establishment  for  the  manu- 
facture of  school  furniture,  a  largo  ma- 
chine-shop, a  large  distillery  for  the 
manufactureof  high  wines,  saali,  blind, 
and  door  factories,  a  paper  mill,  two 
glove  and  mitten  factories,  and  a  fac- 
tory for  the  manufacture  of  harrows, 
cultivators,  and  coni -planters. 

This  town  lies  at  the  intersection 
of  the  E.ockford,  Rock  Island  and  St, 
Louis,  with  the  Chicago  and  North- 
western Railroad,  and  at  the  pres- 
ent northern  terminus  of  the  former; 
one  hujidred  and  ten  miles  from  Chi- 
cago, and  twenty-seven  miles  east  of 
the  Mississippi,  and  consequently  has 
good  shipping  facilities.  Twelve 
miles  above  Sterling,  beautifully  lo- 
cated upyQ  both  sides  of  the  river, 
lies  Bixon,  the  county-seat  of  Lee 
County,  and  an  old  town  for  this  part 
of  Illinois,  dating  back  beyond  1837; 
whicli  has  only  within  the  last  few 
years  taken  a  new  lease  of  life  by  the 
introduction  of  manufactures.  Here 
are  plough  factories,  manufacturing 
from  twenty  thousand  to  twt^nty-tive 
thousand  ploughs  per  annum  j  flour- 
ing mills,  that  manufacture  two  hun- 
tftred  barrels  per  diem  ;  a  foundry  j  a 
sash  and  di>or  factory,  employing  some 
fifteen  men,  and  supplied  with  lumber 
from  Chiciigo;  a  flax  factory,  em  ploy- 
ing some  thirty  men,  and  working  up 
the  raw  material  into  rugs  prepara- 
^ty   to   its  bQing  woike^  mt^   \siXw 


goods  for  market ;  a  kniil 
employing  some  thirty  opersj 
the  manufacture  of  knit  gov 
as  hose  and  underwear ;  a  fi 
and  several  carriage-shopv 
the  plough  factories  contmen 
e rations  about  eight  yeai9 
remaining  manufacturei  hart 
up  almost  entirely  since  lS6i 
town  is  situated  at  the  iat« 
of  the  Illinois  Central  Railfoi 
the  Chicago  and  North-westei 
ty-eight  miles  west  of  Cbica 
its  two  parts  are  connected 
stantial  iron  bridges, 

Thirty-five  miles  above  D 
the  junction  of  the  Galena 
sha  divisions  of  the  ChicJ^ 
North-western  Railroad,  ^  I: 
»*  Eeaper  City,"  the  most  beil 
the  towns  of  the  beautiful  Bo< 
Valley,  known  all  overth^l 
its  manufacturea  of  Teapa» 
vesters, 

Roijkford  is  a  town  of  eli^vt 
sand  five  hundred  inhabitant 
for  the  educational  facilities 
affords.  And  besides  it*  thp 
reaper-shops,  employing  so!| 
hundred  and  fifty  men,  and  : 
turiug  some  five  thousand 
and  harvesters  annually,  haa 
and  cultivator  works,  eraployi 
men,  and  manufacturing  froi 
thousand  to  ten  thotisiuid  impl 
a  paper  mill,  manufacturiiij 
hundred  tons  of  wrappioj 
carriage  and  wagon  shops,  eo 
about  twenty  men ;  a  mad 
of  corn -planters  ami  other  agf 
implements  f  malleable  iro( 
employing  some  thirty,  and 
some  seventy-five  men ;  jftatiri 
with  a  capacity  of  eight 
barrels  per  day ;  a  fact 
bags  and  cotton  twin*,* 
the  manufacture  of  oottonl 
^wd  IvEkftti  twiii6|  aoiotber  , 


u% 


tnnes 


sttd  bfiftd  ttiii 


I  of  the  emrlj  majiafActur- 
j^^CoTth-westem  nUoaU^ 
Htia^ictures  daliiig  b«ck 

^^^■1  of  Bockfottl*  the 
,  a  Inmoeli  of  Bock  River, 
I  of  about  twelre  feet ;  and 
» inteiBection  of  the  Illinois 
ticago  and  North-western, 
m  JJtxion  Eailroiidd  id  lo- 
SommerciaJ  and  manufao- 
n  of  Free  port,  which  is 
fijercial  than  xnanufaotur- 
is  a  large  reaper  fa4itx)ry,  a 
il;  mills  for  the  manufac- 
tf  blituls,  and  doors,  and  for 
liifiiiliixef  flotuiiig  miU% 
Awa^oQ  aliops,  a  maehtfie- 
p^op,  •emal  t>mtb\f^ 
Uj,  —  allraipli>ftiigaca|pi- 
llu<ee  Kaodisd  tluwnod  to 
ped  dMMttaad  doi]af%  aad 


ij    Sock    Btvi^ 


mui  mmamXbe^ium  of  i^pitatHkNil  hlk^ 
pleioiffit^  dottr»  iraoi»  and  fuNilkiiM* 
aaid  extfada. 

Fovt  Atkm«oQ»  twv^uty  mtUm  IktlkiMi 
up  the  rivvr,  inauuf^urfm  Uualun 
milled  rakejiy  »pinnmt^wliimU  ain) 
haud-iouniH,  for  Sotuhorn  Uliiiuii  iliil 
the  Southcro  markot ;  u  i  ^ 
six  m\\t*s  boyoud,  han  vm  v 
ufactuPL»»  of  hoLi»«hiilil  furiHtiira. 

Wtttortown,  forty  mih^vahoviuTniiiVH 
ville^  with  ita  hirpi  Ui«rtuati  iiofMllii* 
tlon,  haii  fluu^ir]^'  iiiitUf  tyuA  m 

tun\H  WUgrjUM^  pltJU^^lHt  aihl  •♦. 

rai  impternentM  on  a  mnaU  •italti. 

Uoricon,  at  thn  outl<»t  of  th0  iMmHll* 
ful  Horicfjn  Lsikis  in  fiiily  IIvm  imIIhii 
aboTO  Jaii«ftvtlht  ami  al  iloi  h*<iail  tif 
Bock  Biver.  It  ban  a  (lrM«  wriN^f' 
power  and  extoiisivn  rnaiiii(»y'hirM«  of 
papixaiiil  wooiloii  warH*  Iioa  liidi^tti 
dnvomJlM  oftii  cjf  Jlortmn*  bn«»«« 

iff  f>  Uit^» 

of  BadiKf^fVatUy^  »i      ..  mifl 


•rv    our  F  "f f r  V Vf  Iff  wWf' 


650 


HorticuUurat 


operatJFed,  and  sends  its  watches  all 
over  the  country.  As  a  proof  that 
there  is  a  tendency  towards  a  higher 
grade  of  manufactures  in  this  section 
of  tht*  country,  the  fact  may  be  men- 
tioned, ill  at  a  hundred-loom  mill  for 
the  manufacture  of  the  finer  grades 
of  cottons,  known  as  Marseilles  goods, 
has  been  erected  at  Moline,  III,  withhi 
the  past  ten  months,  and  is  already 
in  partial  operation. 

The  advantages  of  northern  and 
central  Illinois  as  a  manufacturing 
district  may  bo  briefly  summed  up  in 
these  words  :  abundant  coal,  render- 
ing steam-power  comparatively  inex- 
pensive, and  giving  cheap  fuel  to 
operatives  j  a  healthful  climate  ;  good 
water  J    a   productive   soil,    affording 


abundant   food  snppUea^ 
prices  \  the  best  of  railroad  < 
cations,  and  nearness  to 
raw  material,  and  to  the  mtr) 
goods  manufactured, 
shipped  from  Memphis  \ 
the  Midstdsippi  for  thij 
per  hundred  pounds. 

Their  disadvantage 
of  capital  (though  the 
marvellous  advance  in  \ 
within  the  last  ten  yeazs)/! 
comparative  scarcity  of  goui 
power  and  of  skilled  labor 

The  latter  want  wil 
be  soon  supplied,  whe 
becomes  greater. 


HOKTICULTUEAL. 


As  the  spring  and  summer  montlis 
pass  by,  our  Becord  would  be  wholly 
incomplete  if  we  paid  no  attention  to 
the  work  of  the  gardens,  and  the 
successful  efforts  made  to  increase 
and  improve  their  productions.  Our 
correspondence  on  these  subjects,  al- 
ways extensive,  is  now  larger  than 
ever.  While  the  pressure  of  other 
subjects  compels  us  to  abridge  to  the 
utmost  the  notes  which  we  receive, 
it  is  still  a  con. Stan t  satisfaction  to 
record  the  evident  progress  made  in 
every  walk  of  horticulture. 

Massachusetts  Horticitltubal 
Society,  —  Tbe  annual  report  of  the 
Society,  a  handsome  pamphlet  of  one 
hundred  and  iifty-tive  pages,  gives 
the  history  of  the  year's  exhibitions, 
and  many  notes  of  the  Erst  interest 
to  cultivators. 

Cabbage- Worms.  —  All  garden- 
ers will  be  interested  in  Jilr. 
Sprague's  studies  of  insects  injurious 
to  vegetables.    The  lepott  %»k.^^^^ — 


to  beJH 
utanoAl 


*^  It  must  be  apparent  to  ei^ 

ing  cultivator^  thi|t  insects  wh^ 
juriou5  to  vegetatiofi  are  impif 
increase.  Their  depredations  { 
xxkg  90  numerous,  that^  unlei( 
remedies  are  soon  discovered,  l| 
tion  of  sonu3  of  our  uio<t 
vegetables  will  hnvc  to 
more  familiar  acquain 
all  their  various  clumges  aa4 
will  adord  us  much  Hdabtanc^ 
hie  us  to  know  how  to  Jipplj 
remedies  for  their  dcsti 
cilities  aiTorded  those  intci 
the  character  and  habits 
worm  ("  Pierh  rapcty  Sc 
by  this  exhibition  of  Mr» 
of  vital  interest  to  many 
of  thi»  Society  I  an  it  enabled 
glance^  to  become  familiar  witH 
note  its  pecuUiu*  hiibits,  and  vj 
tail  all  Its  various  chan 
matioDS,  fram  the  tiny  e; 
insect*  Each  case  con 
description  of  its  content**  to| 
tlie  most  efficient  means  (ao  hr 
for  checking  their  rmvagCi^  ^ 
%\AxA  \\*    ^    be    the 


JBbrUculturaL 


651 


season,  to  coQtiiiQe 
pig  labon  on  this  subject,  »iid 
Ifrnngiey  for  tlie  benefit  of  tlie 
Mr  insect  eoemies  which  are 
ey  Qpoa  the  various  crops  of 
L  vegetable  garden ;  with  fioch 
character  and  pec aliari tics  of 
render  iheir  sludr  one  of  in- 
■tracdoa  to  the  hortlcuhunEt. 
im  €iiierprtse  particularly  im- 
Q  who  are  iutenssted  in  hortl- 
PBttitfi,  and,  in  the  opinion  of 
littee,  should  receive  the  en- 
i  of  the  Society, 
bbage-wormi  exhibited  bj  Mr. 
w*iutroduced  into  this  coun- 
BOpe  about  the  year  l%b9,  and 
Wt  totally  destroying  the  cab- 
al th<^  North  and  West.  It 
e4  ciKemiei  tu  JkBo^ik^*  Rem- 
^pieldng.'  During  the  past 
worm  has  been  very  destrue- 
y  localities  in  this  Ttclnity ;  in 
aikceSy  completely    destroying 


oonnectioo,  cxilti^ators  will 
8ted  in  an  arrangement 
latket  gardeners  in  France, 
l^serve    their    cauliflowers, 

R»  butterflies  elder-beans 
fggB  OIL     We   traudlate 
It  journal  the  following 
!■■    ■      •    '.n:  — 
[  a  j  .  admirer  of  our 

t  and  useful  kitchen  garden- 
Ce  an  excursion,  as  often  as 
dse  gardens  which  surround 
I  of  the  city  of  Meaux, 
iduld  who  plays  truant,  I  go 
mywherej  but  unlike  the 
Kbp  leaves  the  path  of  duty 
^pl  of  Tice,  and  who  flees 
mmoOf  X  wish  to  draw  near 
ting  roasters,  who,  by  inces- 
r  and  continual  observation^ 
fl^  the  most  useful  garden- 

m  of  these  excursions,  which 
n  tbci  month  of  September 
itfeed  in  a  patch  of  cauli- 


flowers several  rows  of  elder-branches, 
with  faded  leaves,  which  were  planted 
a  mttre  apart.  Not  knowing  how  to 
Explain  this,  which  I  had  remarked 
nowhere  else,  I  went  to  the  end  of 
the  garden  to  find  the  owner.  With 
the  best  grace  in  the  world,  and  with 
an  ardor  that  did  hiui  credit,  he  ex* 
plained  it  to  me. 

**'  *  For  several  years,  one  of  my 
neighbors  planted  several  sprouts  of 
cauliflowers  near  a  young  hedge  of 
elder;  ^nd  farther  ofl",  in  this  same 
field,  on  the  same  day,  and  with  the 
same  plant,  made  another  plantation. 
These  last  plants  were  tended  with 
absolutely  the  same  care  as  the  first; 
and,  although  search  for  caterpillars 
was  made  carefolly  and  often,  they 
were  Tcry  much  damaged,  and  the 
produce,  not  abundant,  was  of  bad 
appearance,  and  consequently  hardly 
fit  to  be  sold.  The  reason  is,  that, 
with  the  most  careful  attention,  one 
cannot  succeed  in  taking  off  all  the 
caterpillars  from  the  interior  of  the 
leaver ;  while,  on  the  contrary,  the 
same  class  planted  near  the  hedge  of 
elder  was  completely  exempt,  —  not  a 
caterpillar  touched  them.' 

**  The  curious  fact  brought  out  by 
this  circumstance  is,  that  the  butter- 
flies had  a  preference  for  laying  their 
eggs  on  the  elder,  which  -vtbs  com- 
pletely devoured  by  the  caterpillars. 
This  makes  it  conclusive  that  the 
elder  exercised  a  certain  attrjiction 
over  the  butterfly;  and  that,  by  its 
nature,  it  is  especially  suited  for  the 
nourishment  of  the  progeny  of  thia 
insect, 

"  Since  that  time,  several  gardeners 
have  placed  among  the  young  cauli- 
flowers branches  of  eldur,  on  which 
the  butterflies  lay  eggs;  and  later, 
when  their  larv®  have  attained  a  cer- 
tain strength,  and  before  they  have 
escaped  from  their  cradles,  on  a  fresh 


Horticultural 


I 


mornlDg,  and  before  sunrisp,  the  gar- 
dener reraovea  all  the  branchea  of 
elder,  makes  a  heap  of  them,  covers 
them  with  straw  or  hay,  and  sets 
them  on  fire.  If  the  caulidowers 
have  not  yet  attained  their  full  growth, 
the  elder-branches  are  replaced  by 
fresh  ones.' " 

Although  this  experiment^  appar- 
ently so  promising^  is  still  a  new  oue^ 
we  believe  that  it  will  be  well  re- 
ceivetl  by  those  who  cuUivate  any 
plants  of  the  family  of  the  Ctusiferm  / 
for  can  it  not  do  for  all  other  plants 
of  the  same  family,  which  at  certain 
8eason«  are  devoured  by  the  cater- 
pillars, what  It  has  doDe  for  the  cauli- 
flowers ?  The  only  difficulty  is  to 
procure  the  necessary  young  branches 
of  ehkr.  This  could  most  easily  be 
done  by  making  a  little  plantation  of 
elder^  which  is  not  a  delicate  plants 
and  would  grow  on  ground  of  little 
value,  from  which  branches  could  be 
taken  in  the  same  way  as  the  osier  is 
trimmed. 

Use  of  Sewage.  —  The  experi- 
ment attempted  with  the  water  from 
tlie  sewers  of  Pads,  for  the  cultiva- 
tion of  certain  lands  belosv  the  city, 
which  was  commenced  three  years 
ago,  IS  at  last  finished.  The  results 
that  have  been  obtained  are  better 
til  an  any  dissertations  that  cun  be 
made  on  the  subject.  Two  facts  suf- 
fice to  kIiow  this :  the  eagerness  of 
the  cultivators  to  have  these  waters 
flow  through  their  land^  and  the  in- 
creased value  that  these  lan^ls  ac- 
quire. Thus,  lands  which  hardly 
rented  for  thirty-tive  franca  the  acre, 
easily  brought  now  two  hundred  and 
thirty  francs. 

Actio Pf  of  Feost.  —  It  has  often 
been  asked,  At  what  moment  do 
froxen  celLs  perish  'i*  at  their  freezing, 
or  their  thawing?  It  is  difficult  to 
give  an   answer  to  this;  and  direct 


experimenta  are  almosl  tmpoi 
It  is  evident  that  all  the  e^IU  \ 
may  freeze  or  thaw  sewnl 
without  injury,  only  perish  wim 
thawing  takes  place  wxahx  atiCi 
ble  circumatancea :  it  is  a  w«U-l 
matter  of  esrperience,  that  iC  a] 
cold  night,  the  temperature! 
gradually,  and  the  skj  ra 
cloudy,  many  plants,  even  youni 
icate  shoots,  recover  j^erfectli 
on  the  contrary,  the  sun  caoi 
rapid  a  thaw,  the  evil  acqatrfl 
different  proportions.  But  a 
tude  of  [plants  occur  under  vei 
fereut  conditions,  and  perifh  a 
as  their  cells  have  felt  the  attn 
frost.  At  what  precise  motni 
they  die?  AL  Goeppert  [ 
Zeit]  cites,  in  connection  wit 
an  observation  (an  isolated  on 
true,  but  still  curious)  which  si 
prove  that  it  is  the*  direct  act 
cold,  the  frost  itself,  tha$  kills  i 
plants.  Two  tropical  Ort^h 
Flwpgru  Grandifolius,  and  Ci 
veratn/oliOi  contain  ooQsi 
quantities  of  indigo  in  their  \ 
This  substance,  as  every  one  k^ 
colorless  in  living  plants,  ai^ 
becomes  blue  after  their  dea 
phenomenon  of  oxidation, 
ers  of  these  plants  are  of  a  fi 
color;  but  it  is  only  necej 
them  a  little  hard  with  the 
bring  out  in  them  the  tint  of 
Cold  produces  exactly  the  aaou 
and  as  soon  as  the  flowers  aro 
no  matter  to  what  extent,  the  i 
immediately  become  bluej  ai 
color  persists  after  thawing, 
case,  at  least,  the  cells  hal 
killed  by  the  direct  action  of 
The  Ajikricax  Idba  dt 
CULTUKE.  —  rUnts  are  propi^ 
multiplied  in  three  way«,^b| 
the  seeds,  by  division,  and  by  ts 
Seeds  ara  esaily   audi 


We  tkiiik  ^km  Ins  cm  m 

lor  the  potatev  and  toolc 

i  leading  uf  tfaiv«  wmTB  of  io- 

tbe  Mock  inr  tfe  ieedoig  mf 

We  mj  dindtt  die 

cntttsfBy  take  iliftt  tern 

_    voodt  <Mr  «iv  the  seeds  ea 

F  ^iMjiped  ofi  m  the  d^ieed 

»  told  thst  tlie  esitil  Iraigv 

»  and  li«tH  yieUing  weds 

Rafter  bis  Iciiid.    To  be  ftmnk, 

I  not   Etdetlj  true.    The  teed 

J  m^ple-tree  does,  indeed,  bring 

•vm^ple^trees ;   and  the  rerhens 

^er  bring  forth  retbeiias;   but 

ctiy  the  same  nM^e  or  Ter- 

Wa    £iDC7    that    the    man 

nil    planted   a   rerbena    seed 

i^e  Isoghed  vben  the  flowers 

Sowing  seeda  is  eometimed 


tiiei 

AU  1^ 
ing,— lav 

hatm  a  vluls 

pcudiibe   aatle 

sad  asfae  1 

mm 

Tsneij  so  loog  as  it  giowa.    Im  av^ 

laagiBg  lliess  tliinga,  Katne  exkib- 

iti  a    practical    knowledge    eC    dw 

vaati  of  nsBy  abaost  sNitiing  ia  its 

fiimplicitj 

tei;     If  seeds,  bj  dbear 

give  as  new  vaiietiesy  cat^^ge  fix 

them    permanently,      Tlie    Baitlelt 

pear,   the  Cooooid    gtap%  and  tlks 

new   doable    geraninms  esias    fen 

seeds;   bot    cuttings    pwiiartid  lbs 

types.     Were  we  dependent  ofli  ssed% 

Mr,  Bull  had  kept  hb  one  Tine,  the 

pear  would  hare  been  utiknowo,  and 

the  splendid  new  geraniums  had  never 

left  Europe. 


>f  tho  plants  are  impaired ;  and  in- 
tects  and  diseases  find  easy  access  to 
them.  The  cuttings  trancunit  the 
feebleness  and  disease;  and  suddenly 
we  find  a  whole  nation  mourning  a 
potato  faraine.  They  call  it  a  stroke 
of  Providence;  and,  lamenting  their 
a  ins,  go  blindly  on  reproducing  the 
(aitfeebled,  sickly  plants,  Abamlon 
the  exhausted  varieties ;  resort  to 
seeds ;  get  new  and  stronger  kinds, 
and  cease  to  blame  Heaven  for  your 
own  folly. 

This  may  seem  a  trifling  affair,  con- 
cerning only  the  gardeners ;  but  it  is 
really  a  matter  of  great  national  im- 
portance. We  need  to  consider  it 
from  an  American  standpoint.  We 
are  too  dependent  upon  Europe ;  and 
in  many  things  weakly  copy  their 
ideas,  and  accept  (for  a  fabulous  con- 
sideration) English  and  Continentiil 
pi  ants  J  only  to  find  them  utterly  val- 
ueless in  our  climate.  When  the 
Golem  VerHihaffdtily  came  from  Bel- 
gium, we  thought  we  were  receiving 
a  new  plant  worth  liA  weight  in  gold* 
At  any  rate,  we  paid  just  about  that 


or  1 


are  preparing 
with  new  vari« 
plant,  at  only  a  \ 
we  cannot  keep  « 
They  run  out, 
Progress  is  ouj*  oij 
must  have  new  frait) 
vegetables.  As  it  4 
depend  largely  upoi 
serious  injury,  both  i 
and  for  seeds  theml 
originated  in  an  i 
climate  do  not  pr< 
ours*  Few  people 
radical  difference  bel 
of  the  United  StM 
England,  Belgium,  af 
three  great  seed-grol 
Europe.  The  amo* 
average  temperature 
and  seasons,  wae%  d 
plant  that  will  floarti 
sunlight  of  England 
to  death  in  the  blas^ 
summer.  The  iv^ 
ruined  walls  in  Sco^ 
to  the  ground  in  i 
winter. 


peach  tl 


%»    wmm  nv  mil?  Urn 


We 


il»«B^«Ml«Jll 


fli  «]]  lor  Ifiab 

r^imttte^  vrith  iu  drj,  abort  ouni- 

well   »4ia}ne(l  Xl  the  fsmring 

:  of  seedi ;  and  yet  wc 

IffTf^filjr  i^Mm  Fiance,     ^^ilb 

le^csptHHit  w^  imixitt  otxr  mm^ 

at  tim  JBOivf  of  the  foffdtgs 

flf  lobar  has 

1^  te  do  wftb  tfufl ;  tiflS  AflMO- 


iw^-" 


»«^ 


Thia  18  m  Iw—ilifiil  alh  at  i 

few,  and  m  fnwtaeafi  itwli  fi 

If  Llii!  mm^  b  «Mr&  i^  wmxiy  i 

m  AprQ  in  die  Iioim 

wbvii  A  ftfw  hvrm  hm^m  fiat  mn,  And 

finally  Mt  bi  tbe  0pm  bonier  wImh 


Ab 


ti  w«m 


tik^iOl 


656 


Horticultural 


bloom  abmidantly  the  first  year,  dur- 
iDg  tlie  wliole  summer,  and  till  frost 
The  flowers  are  very  double,  and 
much  larger  and  fuller  than  those  of 
the  old  Matricaria  eximia.  Their 
color  is  a  pmre  white;  and  they  are 
particularly  adapted  for  bouquets. 
The  plant  18  a  great  bloomer,  and 
will  be  found  very  ornamental j  either 
in  the  border,  or  when  planted  for  an 
tflTective  mass  of  white.  It  sljould 
hare  a  good^  light  soil,  and  will  bloom 
better  if  transplanted  once  in  two 
years,  ltd  height  varies  from  one 
and  a  half  to  two  feet ;  but,  by  judi- 
cious pinching,  it  can  be  kept  lower 
if  one  wishes. 

NiffcHa  Dajuascenay  with  pure 
white  flowers.  The  common  nigella, 
known  from  time  immemorial,  under 
the  names  of  *'  spider  a  lags,"  **  Venus* 
hair/*  &o.,  is  familiar  to  every  one. 
Its  blue,  or  grayish  blue,  flowers, 
cocpiettishly  surrounded  by  a  green 
involucre  [colierette  !  j  with  finely-cut 
divisions,  are  follow^ed  by  the  no  less 
curious  seed-vessel,  inflated  into  the 
shape  of  a  little  barrel,  or  an  iron  pot^ 
upside  down,  witli  its  legs  in  the  air. 
The  tieeds  are  black,  and  have  a  pun- 
gent, arumatio  flavor,  on  which  ac- 
count they  are  used  as  a  condiment 
in  the  north  of  Europe.  Several 
varieties  of  this  plant  have  been  ad* 
verti«ed  as  having  white  flowers ;  but, 
heretofore,  they  have  been  more  or 
less  pale  blue,  or  grayish,  or  greenish 
ia  color.  But  thij  new-comer,  which 
we  have  seen  in  great  quantity  and 
in   full  flower,  is  really  white,   and 


contrasts  vividly  with  tbo 
smoke-like  involucre  which  ei 
the  fiow^ers,  and  has  givea 
among  the  English,  the  nama 
in  a  bush,'^  and  "  love  in  a  to 

It  is  best  to  sow  the  seed 
where  the  plants  are  to  nsi 
they  do  not  transplant  weB 
need  a  good  soil,  rather  dry ; 
young  plants  should  be  thiuj 
so  as  to  stand  about  eiglil 
inches  apart  every  way, 

Deutzla  cnndidisaima  j 
This  is  certainly  one  of  the  m* 
tiful  of  flowering  shrubs.  IM 
are  very  double,  and  are  pus 
with  no  trace  of  rose-color,  evi« 
It  is  perfectly  hardy,  and  k 
June.  It  is  easily  cultivaU 
ishing  in  any  doil  or  situatioc 
a  very  ornamental  garden  sh 
ia  multiplied  by  beddincf*  or 
June  is  the  beat  nr  ri 

slips.      Deutzta  can,  4 

can  probably  be  as  easily  fort 
crcnata  fiore  pleno^  which  I 
bles;  and  will,  without  doubt 
an  excellent  market  plant. 

Godetia   Kimert la na.  —  T 
variety   of    Godetia^    named 
Nivert,  is  large-dowered,  and 
cup   open    and    erect.     Its 
white,  slightly  tir  li  fli 

as  in  Godetia  jSV  /  ;  h 

centre,  and  at  the  base  of  e: 
there  is  a  bright  spot  of 
mine,    or    sometimes     che; 
which  produces  a  very  pretl 
It  is  an  annual^  and  is  ci 
balsams,  dataiea,  &c. 


JF  TOE  > 


)LD   AND   NEW. 

Vol  v.— JUNE,  1872.— No.  6. 


*  Toting  tte  Old.  bash  tnridi  K  omb  tbqr  ticv 
md  opn  dw  tteniinid  oi  dw  :icw.-'      

(ooitibnof  tbe  United  States*  and  time  of  Eln^iind.  intiie  con- 
regarding  the  Rebel  Gnix8eia»  have  now  been  £11117  placed 
le  Great  Trihmial  of  die  wQdd.  Thac  taibiinal  has  entered 
idjodication ;  and  its  decision  will  paas  into  history.  The 
at  Giene^a,  however  angnst.  is  but  a  petty  tribonaL  in  com- 
irith  this  Great  TrLbnnal  of  the  P-ii^lic  Opinion  and  Public 
iH  nations.  Whether  diia  Geneva  tribunal  :«hall  or  shall  not 
te  the  questions  submitted  to  it  by  the  Treaty  of  Waiihunr:oa^ 
:ter  of  compftrarively  very  little  conseq^ience  to  the   Uiiite<l 

;  is,  xnidoabtedly*  as  things  stand,  a  matter  of  very  Treat  con- 
B  to  Great  Britain-  For.  so  lon^  as  the  memory  of  ciiis 
jrsy  shall  last,  every  frienii  of  tlie  iime  of  En:j:Lmd  will 
k  with  wretched  mortification  on  any  aci:idenail  poii^iy  wh:<*fa-» 
nisfi>rtnne,  might  now  withdraw  the  En^ILah  ca^se  from  the 
arbitzatioar  gs  refoae  the  assent  of  Kngiajid  to  its  aworL 
«e  two  gentlemen,  neighbors  and  friends,  have  a  <i:.>pate 
he^  cmnaot  settle.  They  meet  amicably,  talk  it  ov.:r  like 
5IU  and  find  they  cannot  settle  it.  Then-  because  diey  are 
eh^  tkey  agree  to-  leave  it  to  a  referee.  They  make  thLs 
nt  in  writingt  lest  there  siioold  be  any  mI:iapprehension. 
s^ree  that  all  the  claims  zrowing  oat  of  the  acta  compLiined 
be  referred  to  this  referee :  that,  on  a  certain  <iay.  he  shall 
and  decide  all  questions  that  shall  be  laid  F^efore  him  on  the 
>ach.  They  agree  that  e?w:h  party  shall  present  his  case  in 
with  the  vouchers ;  and  that,  four  months  after,  each  shall 
i  counter-case,  replying  to  the  case  of  his  antagonist. 


i^r??i'/''-'>x 


658 


Old  and  New. 


These  two  gentlemen  then  bring  in,  each  his  case  and  eTii 
they  have  agreed.  Neither  then  complains  of  the  other*s 
after  the  subject  has  been  discussed  by  all  the  worW, 
arguments  have  been  weighed  by  all  intelligent  observci 
the  two  says  he  is  dissatisfied  with  the  other's  statement ;  ai 
it  i£  not  changed,  he  will  throw  up  the  whole  case,  ami 
from  the  reference. 

It  is  a  very  bad  thing  for  him  to  say  thi5.     If,  be 
does  it,  he  is  dropped  from  the  society  of  the  gem.v  .- 
acted  with  him. 

If  the  question  relates  to  billiards,  they  do  not  play  biiliai 
him  again.     If  the  question  arise  among  merchants,  they  do  c 
any  more  transactions  with  him.     He  haus  put  himself  out 
society.     That  is  all. 

There  is  probably  other  society  which  will  still  receive 


1 


The  statement  we  have  thus  made  is  precisely  the  statemcs 
facts  as  to  the  ti*eaty,  the  tribunal,  and  the  proposal  of  tbi 
press  to  withdraw  from  it. 

The  language  of  the  treaty  is,  that  '*  all  such  claims,  gra 
of  the  acts  committed  by  the  aforesaid  vessels,  and  generical 
as  the  ^  Alabama  Claims,'  shall  be  referred  to  a  tribunal  q 
tion ; ''  and  that  '^  the  arbitrators  shall  proceed  impartially 
fully  to  examine  and  decide  all  questions  that  shall  be  la 
them,  ou  the  part  of  the  Governments  of  the  United  States 
Britannic  Majesty." 

This  language  seems  clear.  The  English  journals  say  it  h 
Clear  or  obscure,  the  English  Government  and  ours  are  to 
it.  No  dii^cussion  of  its  meaning  is  in  place,  however,  i 
question  whether  England  shall  abide  by  the  arbltra 
this  reason :  — 

The  American  case  is  a  little  book,  not  muult  larger 
number  of  '*  OiJ)  and  New%"   It  can  easily  be  read  Uu'ough  af I 
This  case  was  published  to  the  world  five  months  ago ;  at 
time  with  the  English  case.     Everybody  interested  in  the  s 
Itoth  arguments  to  read.     Nobody  on  cither  side  made 
of  unfairness.     But,  more  than  a  month  aft^r,  the  Englii 
and  then,  as  if  driven  into  its  position,  the   English  Go 
began  to  say  that  the  American  case  diseu^ed  matters  not 
brought  before   the   tribunal ;    so  manifestly  outside,  i 
le  English  GovexumeuX.  m^^Xi  vi\^^[i&K:a.>«  i\^\si  >3vi&  ^\U\tta 


"^ 


OH  and  Hew.  659 

JwKc  withdiawn.    Hie  objectioo  made  w^  to  the  bsl  half^page 

xomtelj  £br  Englaiidf  her  GoTemmeot  said  DOthi^  of  the 
the  two  si^iimetitB  had  lang  been  before  the  tribmial  oi 
The  plea  that  extsaoeoos  matter  was  introdueed  is  made 
late  to  be  coaaidered. 

not  answer  when  Iha  two  coatestants  haTe  watted  a  month, 
ire  seen  how  the  two  arguments  are  received,  for  either  side 

withdimw  £com  the  issue. 

rhen  ran  %fat  a  duel,  yon  mean  to  oomplain  of  the  anos,  700 

^mplain  when  thej  are  first  produced.     If  yc^n  wait  0ve  or  six 

id  then  complain^  people  will  say  yoo  are  a  coward. 

case  of  the  Genevan  treaty,  the  language  we  use  regarding 

ly  of  England's  protest  in  the  matter  is  not  stronger  than  ia 

li^'s  regarding  tt  in  hia  speech  at  Birmingham.    The  delay 

the  protest  invalidates  the  protest.    It  comes  too  late  to  be 


we  hare  said,  even  if  England  should  withdraw  from  the 
on  altogether,  the  result,  however  disa^strous  to  her  lionor, 
a  matter  of  comparative  indifference  to  the  United  Slates, 
eat  Tribunal  of  the  World  will  declare  the  ultimate  opinion 
the  two  pleas  submitted ;  it  has  begiin  to  declare  it 
Nothing  that  England  or  the  United  States  can  do  or  say 
n  change  that  matter.  If  it  is  right  that  cruisers  should  put 
te  from  neutral  ports  under  tlie  circumstances  in  which  the 
^ama'*  and  **  Florida"  and  **  Shenandoah  '*  put  to  sea  from  Eng- 
^K  it  ia  right  that  neutral  powers  should  afterward  treat  them 
^Kr  colonies  England  treated  those  vessels,  the  public  Law  of 
^pld|  at  the  interpretation  of  the  great  Publicists  of  the  world, 
%cide  this  to  be  right     If  it  is  wrong,  they  will  decide  it  to  be 

i  for  the  collection  of  a  few  million  pounds,  more  or  leas,  from 
lukd,  as  a  penalty  for  her  false  friendship,  there  are  many  ways 

itct  that, 
have  only  to  change  our  present  commercial  treaties  with 
d,  and  put  a  discriminating  duty  of  ten  or  twenty  per  cent 
commerce  of  this  neighbor,  which  chooses  to  stand  outside  of 
itiojial  Law.  The  five  or  six  million  pounds  would  very  soon 
dOefrted  ;  and  it  would  not  be  America  that  paid  them. 
'^e  tare  only  to  enact  the  admirable  bill  now  before  Con«;re«a^ 
admit  all  goods  in  American  bottoms  at  ten  per  cent  \o^et  i.>^^A«»i 


660  Old  and  New. 

than  those  paid  by  goods  in  foreign  ships,  and  the  ship-bd 
the  Clyde  and  Mersey  would  leam  that  International  La^ 
all,  worth  respecting. 

We  have  not  to  wait  till  England  is  at  war,  to  test  her  nei 
pies  of  International  Law,  We  have  no  wish  that  Engkn 
be  at  wir.  I 

Lord  John  RnsseU  is  said  to  have  said  that  the  mission  of  d 
lish  Government  is  to  give  a  jury  trial  to  every  Englishmal 
enable  English  ship-buildei's  to  build  sliips  for  all  the  rei 
world.  The  English  Government  forgets  the  last  half  of  its 
if  it  withdraws  from  the  arbitration  of  Geneva.  Boys  who 
play  according  to  the  rules  of  the  game  in  Dame  Europa 
will  find  they  cannot  play  at  all. 


The  English  journals,  whether  published  in  London  or 
York,  have  reduced  the  protest  against  consequential 
to  the  shop>keeper's  statement,  that  England  cannot  affon 
them  all.  If  they  should  prove  to  amount  to  eight  hiindre 
dollars,  as  Mr.  Sumner  suggested  they  might,  England  has  n^ 
enough  to  pay,  we  are  told ;  and  it  would  be  cheaper  ft 
refuse,  even  were  war  the  alternative. 

Of  course,  war  is  not  the  alternative.  But  it  is  only  such 
as  we  have  named,  which  ever  dreamed  of  measuring  a 
honor  against  a  sum  of  money.  The  English  Govemmei 
God !  has  made  no  suggestion  so  mean.  But  it  has  attempU 
to  its  side  the  smaller  neutral  powers,  by  calling  to  their 
the  exceeding  cost  of  rectitude  under  the  American  views 
national  Law* 

All  this  is  not  strictly  honorable.  For  the  English  w&goX 
last  spring  know  perfectly  well  that  the  American  negotlatod 
the  round  sum  which  they  were  willing  to  accept  5  a  sui 
within  the  limits  which,  even  under  the  English  cons^ 
tribunal  may  award. 

What  America  wants  is  the  holding  neutrals  to  their 
decision  so  intelligible  that  no  neutral  shall  ever  again  be  tej 
play  Lord  John  Russell's  dangerous  game.  Let  the  triba 
some  decision  which  will  thus  far  amend  international  law, 
world  will  see  that  America  has  acted  in  the  true  inten 
neutral  powers  and  of  all  belligerents,  —  in  the  interest,  ii 
longer  and  surer  peace  among  mankind.  The  world  will 
that  America  \i?^  ivo\.  ^\io^tv  herself  over-anxious  as  to  ih 
af  the  peualiy  concetn^^* 


The  Vicar's  Daughter. 


661 


THE    VICAR'S    DAUGHTER; 

AX  AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL  STORY. 

BT  G£ORGE   XACDOXALD. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 
ITS   SEQUEL. 

Krduliiig  was  lecorered  neither 
Migh  Miss  Clare's  injanccioos  nor 
.  Blackstone's  bell-ri aging.  A 
Aaa  was  walking  sreadilr  west- 
sd,  canring  the  child  asleep  in  her 
My  when  a  policeman  stopped  her 
Tumham  Green.  She  betrayed 
fear,  only  annoyance,,  and  offered 
Rsistance^  onl  j  begged  he  would 
i  wake  the  child,  or  take  her  from 
k  He  bioaght  them  in  a  cab  to 
(  police-station,  whence  the  child 
I  sent  home.  As  soon  as  she 
Ered,  Sarah  gare  her  a  warm  bath, 
I  pat  her  to  bed ;  bat  she  scarcely 
■ed  her  eyes. 

Tamma  had  ran  aboat  the  streets 
midnigfaty  and  then  fallen  asleep 
the  doorstep,  where  the  policeman 
nd  her  when  he  bioaght  the  child, 
r  a  week  she  went  aboat  like  one 
nd;  and  the  blunders  she  made 
m  marvelloos.  She  ordered  a 
ee  of  cod  from  the  poulterer,  and 
nmd  of  anchovies  at  the  crockery 
fL  One  day  at  dinner,  we  could 
t  think  how  the  chops  were  so 
)gj,  and  we  got  so  many  bits  of 
le  in  oar  month :  she  had  power- 
\f  beaten  them,  as  if  they  had 
m  steaks.  She  sent  up  melted 
Her  for  biead-saoc^  and  stuffed  a 
•  with  sausages. 

Ifter  bieakfSut,  Peicirale  walked 
fte  p«^oe-station,  to  thank  the  in- 
,  pay  what  expenses  had  been 
,  and  see  the  woman.  I  was 
;  veD  ^MN^  Id  go  with  him.  My 
nam.  ia  a  wbite-fiMed  tbin^  and 


her  eyes  look  much  too  big  f'?r  her 
small  face.  I  suggested  that  he 
should  take  Mi^s  Clare.  A^  i:  was 
early,  he  was  fortunate  enough  to 
dad  her  at  home,  and  she  aoo-r-m- 
panied  him  willingly.  an>i  a:  once 
recognizeii  the  woman  as  the  one  she 
hail  befriended. 

He  told  the  magistrate  he  'lid  cot 
wish  to  punish  her,  but  that  there  were 
certain  circumstances  which  made 
him  desirous  of  detaining  her  until  a 
gentleman,  who,  he  belierel.  ould 
identify  her,  should  arrive.  The 
magistrate  therefore  remanded  her. 

The  next  day  but  one  my  father 
came.  When  he  saw  her,  he  had 
little  doubt  she  was  the  same  that 
had  carrie«i  off  Thei :  but  he  could 
not  be  abs«>lutely  certain,  because  he 
had  seen  her  only  by  m-wnlight.  He 
told  the  magistrate  the  whole  story, 
saying,  that,  if  she  should  prove  the 
mother  of  the  child,  he  was  m'>st 
anxious  to  try  what  he  could  do  for 
her.  The  magistrate  expressed  -jrAve 
doubts  whether  he  would  find  i:  r-^s- 
sible  to  befriend  her  to  any  edei::ual 
degree.  3Iy  father  said  he  would 
try,  if  he  could  but  be  ceriaia  she 
was  the  mother. 

"  If  she  st.>le  the  child  merely  to 
compel  the  restitution  of  her  own."  he 
said,  "I  cannot  regard  her  conduct 
with  any  abhorrence.  But,  it  she 
is  not  the  mother  of  the  chili  I  must 
leave  her  to  the  severity  of  the  law.- ' 

'•  I  once  discharged  a  woman."  said 
the  magistrate,  •*  who  had  committed 
the  same  offence,  for  I  was  satisfied 
she  had  done  so  purely  from  the  desire 
to  possess  the  chiid.^ 


662 


The  Vicar' 9  Daughter. 


♦*  But  might  not  a  thief  say  he 
was  iDfluenced  merely  by  the  desire 
to  add  another  sovereign  to  bid 
hoard?'' 

**  The  greed  of  the  one  is  a  natural 
aflfection  ;  that  of  the  other  a  \ace." 

**But  the  injury  to  the  loser  is  far 
greater  in  the  one  case  than  in  the 
other,'' 

'*To  set  that  oflf,  however,  the  child 
is  more  easily  discovered.  Besides, 
the  false  appetite  grows  with  indul- 
gence; wbereas  one  child  would  still 
the  natural  one/' 

"Then  you  would  allow  her  to  go 
on  stealing  child  after  child,  until 
ehe  succeeded  in  keeping  one/'  said 
mj  father,  laughing. 

*•  I  dismissed  her  with  the  warning, 
that,  if  ever  she  did  so  again,  this 
would  be  brought  np  against  her,  and 
she  would  have  the  severest  punish- 
ment the  law  could  inflict.  It  may 
be  right  to  pass  a  first  oifence,  a  ad 
wrong  to  pass  a  second.  I  tried  to 
make  her  measure  the  injury  done  to 
the  mother,  by  her  own  sorrow  at  los- 
ing the  child ;  and  I  think  not  without 
eflect.  At  all  events,  it  was  some 
years  ago,  and  I  have  not  heard  of 
her  again." 

I^ow  came  in  the  benefit  of  the 
kindness  Miss  Clare  had  shown  the 
woman.  I  doubt  if  any  one  else 
could  have  got  the  truth  from  her. 
Even  she  found  it  difficult;  for  to 
tell  her  that  if  she  was  Theo*8 
mother  she  should  not  bo  punished, 
might  be  only  to  tempt  her  to  lie. 
All  Miss  Clare  could  do  was  to  assure 
her  of  the  kindness  of  every  one  con- 
cerned, and  to  urge  her  to  disclose 
her  reasons  for  doing  such  a  grievous 
wrong  as  steal  another  woman's 
child. 

"  They  stole  my  child,"  she  blurted 
out  at  hist,  when  the  cruelty  of  the 
action  was  pteaa^id  u^u  \\^x. 


**0h,  nor*  said  MiasCl 
left  her  to  die  in  the  cold." 

^♦No,  no!"  ehe  cried.  *-I 
somebody  to  hear  her,  and 
in.  I  wasn't  far  off,  and  wai-; 
ing  to  take  her  again ^  when  ! 
light,  and  heard  theoi  searc 
her.     Oh,  dear  I     Oh,  dear!" 

"  Then  how  can  you  say  tl 
her?    You  would  have  had 
at  all,  but  for  them.     She  w 
dead  when  they  found  her. 
retun^  you  go  and  ateal  ihei 
child ! '' 

"They  took   her   from  i 
wards.    They  wouldn't  let 
my  own  flesh  and  blood     1 
to  let  them  know  what  it  wai 
their  child  taken  from  them.* 

"  How  could  they  tell  she  \ 
child,  when  you  stole  her  a! 
a  thief?  It  might,  for  ai 
they  knew,  be  some  other 
stealing  her,  as  you  stole  tl 
other  day?  What  would 
come  of  you  if  it  had  been  ai 

To   this   reasoning   she 
answer. 

"  I  want  ray  child ;  I 
child,*'  she  moaned.  Then 
out—  **  I  shall  kill  myself  i^ 
get  my  child  1 "  she  cried.  **d 
you  don*t  know  what  it  is  to] 
child  and  not  have  her  !  I 
myself  if  they  don't  give 
back.  They  can't  say  I  < 
child  auy  harm.  I  was  as 
her  as  if  she  had  l>een  my  o 

*' They  know  that  <]uito  \ 
don't  want  to  punish  you, 
you  like  to  see  your  child  ?  ** 

She  clasped  her  hands 
head,  fell  on  her  knees  at  Mil 
feet,  and  looked  up  in  her  ft 
out  uttering  a  word. 

«'  I  will  speak  to  Mr.  Walt 
Miss  Clare ;  and  left  her. 

The  next  mormng  ahe  ' 


7%e  Vtear's  Ikmgktar. 


66S 


of  mj  hm^ 
m  hamt  miih 

IX  vttli  Um 

hid  M^led  awaj  jH  mj 

of  aboQl  firie  mad   twaitj, 

her   voUlitr-bnjwncd  oooi- 

sadohor  look  at  finft  wxk 

Wiib  tin  lifllp  of  Uw  lofruito, 

her  lo  have  a  iMtii,  dar- 

bidi  th^f  laiaond  het  dotfiie^ 

iteltiited  othenw    Sbe  obfecled 

fttiJig   tbem  on;  seemdt  hal^ 

at  theoLf  a0  if  tlioj  miglit 

m  aome  bhape  of  boodage,  aiid 

(o  hare  her  ovrn  agato*    At 

BaitBi%  wluv  alUiofigli  to  spa^ 

pnyvidod  with  biainSy   is  not 

[ft  genius,  pieTailed  upon  her^ 

tg  that  her  little    girl  would 

my  from  her  if  she  wasn' t  well 

I,  for  she  had  been  used  to  see 

mhotit  her.     With  a  deep  sigh, 

dded;  hegging,  however,  to  hare 

I  g;artoetit5  restored  to  her. 

had  broQght  with  her  a  small 

f  tied  op  in  a  cotton  handker- 

and  (mm  it  she  now  took  a 

^  ^f  red  silk,  and  t^?idted  it  up 

her  hlack  hair  in  a  fi&shion  I  had 

r  i«ea  hefore.     In  this  head-drei^ 

lad  almost  a  brilliant  kiok  ;  while 

emcnage  had  a   certain  dignitj 

of  aaiociatiou  with  poverty  — 

Bconatatent,  boweTer,  with  what  I 

itnce  learned  about  the  gypsies. 

luaband  admired  her  e^en  more 

I  did,  and  made  a  very  good  sketch 

sr*      Her  eyes  were    large  and 

—  noqnestionably  fine;   and  if 

not  mach  of  the  light  of 

1   til  em,  they  had  a  certain 

vhieh  in  a  measure  made  up 

l>«    want.     She    had   rather   a 

bh     than    an  Eastern    look,    I 

^t«    wtili    an    air    of   defiance 

prerented  me  from  feeling   at 


CMe  with  her;  hoi  m  tite  | 
MmCbmihe 
hen 
IfBthd 
her  ejoi  woaU  ho  < 
ing  aifteir  her,  wi^  a  ' 
eagmr  look.     Sits^T,  tha 
aioB  mnst  haTa  mfimto 
destinies. 

Am  I  was  maUe  to  leare  1 
Cither  pemaded  MbsChM  toi 
panj  him  and  help  him  to  take  chaiga 
of  her.     I  confess  it  was  a  lelisf  la  . 
me  when  ^a   left   the    honss;  for' 
though  I  wanted  tubs  as  kind  to  her 
as  I  Gonldp  I  lelt  considerable  discooi- 
fori  in  her  predence. 

When  Miss  Clare  returned,  the  next 
day  but  one,  I  found  she  had  got  from 
her  the  main  points  of  bar  histocj, 
fully  juiitifying  preriotts  conjecture* 
of  my  father's,  founded  on  what  he 
knew  of  the  character  and  onstoma , 
of  the  gypsiesL 

She  belonged  to  one  of  the  princi* 
pal  gypsy  families  in  tltis  conn  try. 
The  fact  that  they  had  no  settled 
habitatioD,  but  lived  in  tents,  like 
Abraham  and  Isaac,  had  nothing  to 
do  with  poverty.  The  silver  buttons 
on  her  fathers  coat^  were,  she  said, 
worth  nearly  twenty  pounds;  and 
when  a  friend  of  any  distinction  came 
to  tea  with  them^  they  spread  a  table- 
cloth of  fine  linen  on  the  gniss^  and 
set  out  upon  it  the  best  of  china,  and 
a  tea-service  of  hall-marked  silver. 
She  said  her  friends  —  as  much  as 
any  gentleman  in  the  land  —  scorned 


stealing;   and 


affirmed 
his 


thtit  no  real 
gypsy  would  "  risk  his  neck  for  his 
belly,"  except  he  were  driven  by 
hunger.  All  her  family  could  read, 
she  said,  and  carded  a  big  Kiblo 
about  with  them. 

One  summer  they  were  encamped 
for  several  months  in  the  neighbor^ 
hood    of    Edinburgh,   making   horn* 


9 


I 


664 


The  Vicar's  Daughier. 


spoons  and  baskets,  and  some  of  tliem 
working  in  tin.  There  tbey  were 
visited  by  a  clergyman,  who  talked 
and  read  the  Bible  to  them,  and 
prayed  with  them.  But  all  their  vis- 
itors wc^re  not  of  the  same  sort  with 
him.  One  of  them  was  a  young  fel- 
low of  loose  character,  a  clerk  in  the 
city,  who,  attracted  by  her  appear- 
ance, prevailed  upon  her  to  meet  him 
often.  She  was  not  then  eighteen^ 
Any  aberration  from  the  paths  of 
modesty  is  exceedingly  rare  among  the 
gypsies,  and  regarded  with  severity; 
and  her  father,  hearing  of  this,  gave 
her  a  terrible  punishment  with  the 
whip  he  used  in  driving  his  horses. 
In  terror  of  what  would  follow  when 
the  worst  came  to  be  known,  she  ran 
away ;  and,  soon  forsaken  by  her  so- 
called  lover,  wandered  about,  a  com- 
mon vagrant,  until  her  baby  was  t>orn 
—  under  the  stars,  on  a  summer 
night,  in  a  iield  of  long  grasa. 

For  some  time  she  w*andered  up 
and  down,  longing  to  join  some  tribe 
of  her  own  people,  but  dreading  un- 
speakably the  disgrace  of  her  mother- 
hood. At  length,  having  found  a 
home  for  her  child,  she  associated 
herself  with  a  gang  of  gypsies  of  in- 
ferior character,  amongst  whom  she 
hod  many  hardships  to  endure.  Things 
however  bettered  a  little  after  one 
of  their  number  was  hangud  for  stab- 
bing a  cousin,  and  her  position  im- 
proved. It  was  not,  however,  any  in- 
tention of  carrying  off  her  child  to 
share  her  present  lot,  but  the  urgiugs 
of  mere  mother-hunger  for  a  sight  of 
her,  that  drove  her  to  the  HalL 
When  she  had  succeeded  in  enticing 
her  out  of  sight  of  the  house,  how- 
ever, the  longing  to  possess  her  grew 
fierce ;  and  braving  all  consequences, 
or  rather,  I  presume,  unable  to  weigh 
them,  she  did  carry  her  away.  Foiled 
in  this  attempt,  and  seeing  that  her 


chances  of  future  success  in  toji 
lar  one  were   diminished  bjr  it,  i 
sought   some    other  platu    Le« 
that  one  of  the  family  waa  i 
and  had  removed  to  LondoDt  i 
ceeded,  tlirough   gypsy  ao«|ii 
who  lodged  occii- 
ham  Court  Bond, 
W9  lived,  and  carried  off  Etliet  < 
the  vague  intent^  aa  we  had 
conjectured,  of  uaiog  her  2m  a  \ 
for  the  recovery  uf  her  o>v 
Theodora   was    now    »i 
years  of  age  —  almost  as  wild  it»  ♦ 
Although  tolerably  obedient,  sIk- 
not  nearly  so  much  so  as  thu  l» 
children  had  been  at  her  r. 
perhaps,  because  my  fath*  r 
bring  himself  to  use  that  j^veriiy^ 
the  child  of  other  people  with  wh 
he  had  judged  it  proper  to  t^eat 
own- 
Miss  Clare  waa   present^  with 
father  and  the   rest   of  the   hmt 
when  the  mother  aofl  daogUter  i 
They  were  all  more  tham  curkka 
see  how  the  child  would  *bchari!»  ( 
whether  there  would  bo  any  sigosi 
an   instinct  that    drgv   her   to 
parent.     In  this^  howerei^  they 
disappointed. 

It  was  a  fine  warm  foronooQ 
she  came  running  on  to  the 
where  they  were  assemUeilf  ^ 
gypsy  mother  with  them. 

"  There  she  is  I  **  said  my 
the  woman.    *' Make  the  beet  oi  yn 
self  you  can/* 

Miss  Clare  said  tbo  poor  i 
turned  very  pal<?,  but  htsr  cjoe 
with  such  a  tire  I  ^ 

With  the  cunning  of  her  race^l 
knew  better  than  lK>und  forward  i 
catch  up  the  child  In  her  i^rm^ 
walked  away  from  thr  -  "^  ~-  ' 
watching  the  little  <1 
merrily  with  Mr*  ^^ 
thought  she  recognize  ^ 


hk 


The  Viem^B  DomgUer. 


665 


I  of  Um.    Sbe  ktd 
liner  ammmetiU  vUdi  i 
epl   or  iBiauged  to 

t  «&d  women  of  bermet  an»- 

k  stzoQg  degne  Ikoi  love  fiv 

itdomment  wliicl^  ••  «dl  •• 

*  pecsilUnt]i%  ptiiils  fi»  aa 

DgiiL     Hm  gfittpfftttg  of 

le  mem,  and  tiie  ^inr<#kr 

'in  Berdack  k«ii, «I«g inHk 

^nes  of  iier  wMe  afipear^ 

Aio  f^tM,  sod  iho  axh- 

took  from  hmt  pocket  a 

bally  wkkh  had  probably 

of  tJie  omanaafei  on  tbe  top 

A9  and  railed   it  gleamtng 

I  Ike  graai^    Hmo  and 

bounded  after  it  witk  a 

i  a  baik,    Hairiiig  exaattned 

nomeiily  tke  cktid  tkiew  it 

3g  ike  lawQ ;  aad  diia  tyne 

lithe  ae  a  leopaid  and 

joined  in  the  ehafie, 

[  again  seat  it  fptO)* 

fimker  fsQm  the  aeeeiA- 

Ofuae  mise  aU  dnm 

tvin  pmaatt  ^  but  ikii 

otke^toek  ean  to  aDow 

taadaitbettearare.     Alter 

;  bad  captiaoeil  alistle  while, 

genesd  eounltatiaii^ 

,  ckiki,  aad  dog^  took  plaee 

aabie ;  and  pceeentlj  thej 

bao  was  eating  iomethiog* 

teust^  aaJd  oij  aLother,  ^aba 

tbe  child  with  any  oailf 

D  Mil  da  BO  wittxQgly,^  aaid 
"jrott  oiay  he  eure.    Any- 
Bit  oot  taterfere,^ 

tea  iBDfe  the  mother 

;  witb  a  fahrioed  l<x>k 

bereyee  o^erHowmg 

'  the  child  m  her 

playio^  with  soioe 

whidi  addtned  her  hairj 


Fertba 
kfttadea 


B«t    IB 


ef  cotal  and  silrer 
keraeek. 

■t  ef  tba  day  they  were 
A  aa  Ibey  pleased ;  only 


m 


of  leeovefing  her 
herself  to 
duKdlike  spirit. 
with  which 
to  da  wba%  eren  in  re- 
ipecfe  of  ber  ckiM,  was  leqaested  of 
b^  la  tf  libe  folly  acknowledged  the 
xi^bi  af  aatboeity  ia  thoee  who  had 
keeA  ber  beat  Hieiidi^  was  darmiDg. 
Whrifcfr  tkii  voold  laet  whea  the 
aaeelly  of  tka  aew  ezpeneoce  had 
wm  Q^  whether  jealoitsy  would  not 
§am  tta  akaie  in  the  or- 
eoodaci^  remained  to 
be  ibowa ;  bst  m  tka  laem  time  tka 
good  IB  ker  waa  appeimoelk* 

She  waa  alkiwed  to  spend  a  whole 
fertBigliS  ra  making  fesends  with  her 
d^Migbteif  betes  a  weed  was  spoken 
ahoiit  the  fatoie ;  tbe  design  of  my 
5i£her  being  tkfoogh  tbe  child  to  win 
the  mother.  Certain  people  consid- 
eied  kia  noi  eager  eooagk  to  convert 
Aa  wkked  i  wkatever  apparent  tndi;^ 
fcieace  he  showed  in  that  direction 
arose  ham  hia  atter  belief  ia  the 
guitirng  of  God,  ;md  his  dread  of 
eafirBSBSBg  hia  designsL  He  woald 
/rfftw  Ae  opisatkws  of  tbe  Spirit. 

"  Your  forced  hot-hocse  fhiit:*/ •  he 
woalil  aay,  *^  are  often  finer  to  L^ok 
at  than  those  which  have  waited  for 
God^fl  wind  and  weatber ;  bat  what 
are  they  worth  in  reject  of  sUI'for  the 
s^ke  of  which  fruit  exists?" 

Until  an  opportunity,  then,  wsa 
thrown  in  his  way,  he  would  hold 
hack ;  hot  when  it  was  clear  to  him 
that  he  bad  ti>  myttstar,  then 
he  tbsa^tful^  watchful  insrtant, 
swemng.  You  mi^ht  Uaire  1 
during  this  time,  as  the  letters  of 
Coania  isionned  moi  < 


w^~ 


666 


The  Vicar* 8  Daughter, 


for  minutes  togethor  watching  the 
mother  and  daughter^  and  pondering 
in  his  heart  concerning  them. 

Ever  J  advantage  being  thus  af- 
forded her,  not  without  the  stirring  of 
80ine  natural  pangs  in  those  who  had 
hitherto  mothered  the  child,  the  fort- 
night 1 1  ad  not  passed,  before,  to  all  ap- 
pearance, the  unknown  mother  was 
with  the  child  the  greatest  favorite  of 
all.  And  it  was  my  father^s  expectation, 
for  he  was  a  profound  believer  in 
blood,  that  the  natural  and  generic 
instincts  of  the  child  would  be  devel- 
oped together;  in  other  words,  that 
as  she  grew  in  what  was  coniioon  to 
humanity,  she  would  grow  likewise 
in  what  belonged  to  her  individual 
origin.  This  was  not  au  altogether 
comforting  e?c  pec  tat  ion  to  those  of  us 
who  neither  had  so  much  faith  as  he, 
nor  saw  so  hopefully  the  good  that  lay 
in  every  eviL 

One  twilight,  he  overheard  the  fol- 
lowing talk  between  them.  When 
they  came  near  where  he  sat,  Theo- 
dora, carried  by  her  mother,  and  pull- 
ing at  her  neck  with  her  arras,  was 
saying,  "  Tell  rae ;  tell  me ;  tell  mo," 
in  the  tone  of  one  who  would  compel 
an  answer  to  a  question  repeatedly 
asked  in  vain. 

"What  do  3*ou  want  me  to  tell 
you  ?  "  said  her  mother. 

"You  know  well  enough.  Tell 
me  your  name." 

In  reply,  she  uttered  a  few  words 
my  father  did  not  comprehend,  and 
took  to  be  Zinguree.  The  child 
shook  hor  petulantly  and  with  vio- 
lence, crying,  — 

"That's  nonsense.  I  don't  know 
what  you  say,  and  I  don't  know 
what  to  call  you*" 

My  father  had  desired  tbo  house- 
hold, if  possible,  to  give  no  name  to 
the  woman  in  the  chi!d*fl  hearing. 

**  Call  mc  mam,  \i  ^-om  Vike '' 


"  But  you're   not  a 
won  t  say  ma'am  to  yoti,' 
rude  as   a   child   will 
when  least  she  intends 

'Ker  mother  set  her 
a  deep  sigh.     Was 
child's    restlesaneBS    and 
tired  her  ?    My  father  thtM 
wise. 

"Tell  me  J  tell  me,*'  th< 
sisted,    beating    lier   with 
clenched  Est     **  Take  mi 
and  tell  me,  or  I  will  maki 

My  father  thought  it  ti; 
fere.      Ho     stepped    fo! 
mother  started  with  a  Lit 
caught  up  the  child. 

"  Theo,'*  said  my  fathei 
allow  you  to  be  rude,  esjj 
who  love^  you  more  Uum 
loves  you/* 

The  woman  set  her  i 
dropped  on  her  kn^es,  and 
kissed  his  hand. 

The  child  stared ;  bvit  «bfl 
awe  of  my  father,  —  pediapi 
that  she  had  none  for  any  of 
and,  when  her  mother  liftod 
more,  was  carried  away  in  i 

The  difficulty  was  gut  of 
child's  being  told  to  call  hi 
Nune, 

My  father  was  now  suffid 
isfied  with  immediate  resuU 
out  the  remainder  of  his  c 
plan,  of  which  my  mothe? 
approved.  The  gardens 
wife  being  elderly  people,  an 
no  family,  therefore  noi  Twp 
whole  of  their  cottagi*,  w 
within  a  short  distance  of  ti 
could  Sparc  a  room,  which  m 
got  arranged  for  the  gyp>*J 
she  was  housod,  with  f^ 
her  child,  and  the  tindi 
when  Theo  liked  to 
she  was  at  liberty  to  do 

She  was  always  r««4y 


The  Ttcar's  Daughter. 


667' 


it  it  was  little  abecoold 
ne  time,  and  it  wais  witk 
hat  &be  settled  to  any  occu- 
lt continuous, 

yng  it  became  evident  that 
J>lt9  were  working  in  her 
Ig  hei  restless.  She  was 
^  the  liberty  of  her  old 
Ufe^  with  sun  and  wind, 
cbaage,  all  about  her.  It 
fl  and  the  rcYiving  life  of 
I  rousing  in  her  the  long- 
tion  and  i>>om  and  variety 
I  hj  the  roving  centuries 
passed  aince  £rst  her  au- 
^  driven  from  their  homes 
tidostau.      But  my   father 

Ke  probability,  and  had 
t  over  what  could  be 
Mr  if  the  wandering  passion 
ive  too  powerfully.  He 
imt  there  W£b3  nothing  bad 
i  unpube,  —  one  doubtless 
Id  have  been  felt  in  all  its 
kibraham  himself,  had  he 
t  tents  and  gone  to  dwell 
—  however  much  its  indul- 
bt  place  her  at  a  disadvan- 
w  midBt  of  a  settled  social 
I  8&W|  too,  that  any  attempt 
I  would  probably  result  in 
itration;  that  the  passion 
Bfl  of  freedom  would  gather 
Igor  in  consequence.  It 
|u  better  to  favor  its  indul* 
the  hope  that  the  love  of 
would,  like  an  elastic  but 
)  cord«  gra«lually  tame  her 
Inore  settled  life. 
DflBcd,,  therefore,  that  she 
m  Blatter  of  duty,  go  and 
htcolSy  »nd  let  them  know 
hwe^     She  looked  alarmed. 

er  will  show  you  no 
m  certain,  after  the 
ly  years,"  he  added. 
Tf  and  tell  me  to- 
,  IM  about  it*    You 


shall  go  by  ttmin  to  Edinburgh,  and 
once  there  you  will  soon  be  able  to 
find  them.  Of  ooocse  you  couldn't 
take  the  child  with  you;  but  sho  will 
be  safe  with  us  till  you  come  back.*' 

The  result  was  that  she  went ;  and 
having  found  her  people,  and  spent  a 
fortnight  with  them,  returned  in  less 
than  a  month.  The  rest  of  the  year 
she  remained  quietly  at  home,  stilling 
her  desires  by  frequent  and  long  ram- 
bles with  her  child,  in  which  ilr. 
Wagtail  always  accompanied  them. 
My  father  thought  it  better  to  run  the 
risk  of  h^r  escaping,  than  force  the 
thought  of  it  upon  her  by  appearing 
not  to  trust  her.  But  it  came  out 
that  she  bad  a  suspicion  that  the 
dog  was  there  to  prevent,  or  at  least 
expose,  any  such  imprudence.  The 
following  spring  she  went  on  a  second 
visit  to  her  friends,  but  was  back 
within  a  week,  and  the  nest  year  did 
not  go  at  all 

Meantime  my  father  did  what  he 
could  to  teach  her,  presenting  every 
truth  as  something  it  was  necesdary 
she  should  teach  her  child.  With 
this  duty,  he  said,  he  always  baited 
the  hook  with  which  he  fished  for 
her  J  **or,  to  take  a  figure  from  the 
old  hawking  days,  her  eyas  is  the 
lure  with  which  I  would  reclaioi  the 
haggard  hawk." 

What  will  be  the  final  result,  who 
dares   prophesy  ?     At    ray  old  home 
she   still   resides ;    grateful,   and    in 
some  measure  useful,    idolising,  bull 
not    altogether   spoiling    her    chtld^  [ 
who  understands  the  relation  between  j 
them,  and  now  calls  her  mother. 

Dora  teaches  Theo,  and  the  mother 
comes  in  for  what  share  she  inelmei 
to  appropriate.  She  doei  not  t«k« 
much  to  reading,  but  she  ii  fond  of 
listening;  and  is  a  i«gularaiid  derool^ 
attendant  at  public  worship, 
all,  they  have  lufficing  (foof  tliai  ber 


668 


The  Vicar' 9  Daughter. 


conscience  is   awake,   and  that  she 
gives  some  heed  to  what  it  says. 

Mr,  Blackstone  was  right  when  ho 
told  me  that  good  I  was  unable  to 
foresee  would  result  from  the  loss 
which  then  drowned  me  in  despair. 

CHAPTER  XXVI. 

TROUBLES. 

Ih  the  beginning  of  the  following 
year,  the  lady  who  filled  Miss  Clarets 
place  was  married,  and  Miss  Clare 
resumed  the  teaching  of  Judy's  chil* 
dren.  She  was  now  so  handsomely 
paid  for  her  lessons,  that  sh«  had  re- 
duced the  number  of  her  engage- 
ments very  much,  and  had  more  time 
to  give  to  tlie  plans  in  which  she  la- 
bored with  Lady  Bernard.  The  lat- 
ter would  willingly  have  settled  such 
an  annuity  upon  her  as  would  have 
enabled  her  to  devote  all  her  time  to 
this  object  J  but  Miss  Clare  felt  that 
the  earning  of  her  bread  was  one  of 
the  natural  ties  that  bound  her  in 
the  bundle  of  social  life;  and  that  in 
what  she  did  of  a  spiritual  kind,  she 
must  be  untrammelled  by  money-rela- 
tions. If  ahe  could  not  do  both,^ — 
provide  for  herself  and  assist  others, 
—  it  would  bo  a  different  thing,  she 
said;  for  then  it  would  be  dear  that 
Providence  intended  her  to  receive 
the  hire  of  the  laborer  for  the  neces- 
sity laid  upon  her.  But  what  influ- 
enced her  chiefly  was  the  dread  of 
having  any  thing  she  did  for  her 
friends  attributed  to  professional  mo- 
tives, instead  of  the  recognition  of 
eternal  relations.  Besides,  as  she 
said,  it  would  both  lessen  the  means 
at  Lady  Bernard's  disposal^  and 
cause  herself  to  feel  bound  to  spend 
all  her  energies  in  that  one  direction ; 
in  which  case  she  would  he  deprived 
of  the  recreative  influences  of  change 
and  more  polished  society.  In  her 
laboFi  she  would  y^t  I^^V^^t  t^^^iiiQim^ 


aod  would  not  serre  evvii  li 
nard  for  money,  except  »ho 
ly  that  such  was  the  will  of 
Master.  In  thus  refusing  1 
she  but  rose  in  her  fnend*i 
tion. 

In  the  springy  great  tea 
upon  the  Morleys,  One  of 
dren  was  taken  ^ith  scj 
and  then  another  and 
seized  in  such  rapid  success! 
till  five  of  them  were  lyt 
gether  —  that  there  was  no 
think  of  removing  t hem- 
Judy  would  accept  no  assi^ 
nursing  them,  beyond  that 
maids,  until  her  strength 
and  she  took  the  infection 
the  form  of  diphtheria;  wh 
compelled  to  take  to  her  h« 
agony  at  the  thought  of  bail 
children  over  to  hired  nui 
there  was  great  ground  fal 
her  strength  would  yield. 

She  lay  moaning,  with 
sliut;  when  a  band  was  laid 
and  Miss  Clare's  voice  was  ii 
She  had  come  to  give  her 
son  to  one  of  the  girls  wIm 
yet  escaped  the  infection  : 
she  took  every  precaution^ 
turned  aside  from  her  work 
dread  of  con^ < 
she  heard  that  Hey 

taken  ill,  she  walked  straig 
room* 

"  Go  away  r*  said  Jodjr. 
want  to  die  too  ?  " 

"Dear  Mrs.  Morloy,** 
Clare,  *'I  will  just  run  hii 
make  a  few  arrange meuta, 
come  back  and  nur86  you.** 

**  Never    mind     ri 
"The  chililreni  the 

^'  I  am  quite  able  to  look 
all  — if  you  will  allow  me  U 
^c^xv^^omAXi  to  hel^  me.' 


77ie  Vicar's  Daughter. 


669 


sm  an  ingel!"  said  poor 

But  there  is  no  occasion  to 

iy  one  with  you.     My  aer- 

( qpito  oompetent/' 

htiwe  every  thing  in   my 

is,'^  said  Miss  Clare;  "and 

must  haye  some  one  who 

rxactly  as  I  tell  her.     This 

been  with  me  now  for  some 

3   I  can   depend  upon   her, 

always  look  down  upon  gov- 
t 

wbateyer  you  like,  you 
TOature,''  said  Judy.  "If 
my  aexranta  behaves  im- 
you,  or  neglects  your  or- 
ahall  go  as  soon  as  I  am  up 

lid  rather  give  them  as  little 

Ity  as  I  can  of  running  tlio 

I  may  bring  this  friend  of 

I  shall  soon  have  the  house 
iBpital    regulations*     But    I 

lea  talking  too  much.  I 
nost  have  returned  by  this 
t  is  a  bad  beginning  if  I 
irt  you  already  by  saying 
m  was  necessary.'^ 
ftd  hardly  left  the  room  be- 
y  had  fallen  asleep,  so  much 
relieved  by  the  offer  of  her 
Er«    she     awoke,    Marion 

cab  on  her  way  bock  to  Bol- 
fcrey  with  her  friend  and  two 
fcgs.  Within  an  hour,  she 
eDched   herself   in   a    spare 

had  lighted  a  fire,  got  en- 
ig  finery  out  of  the  way^  ar* 

II  t!t#  medicines  on  a  chest 
IBp  sod  set  the  clock  on  the 
boa  going;  made  the  round 
itientSy  who  were  aU  in  ad* 
QomSy  and  the  round  of  the 
I  IM  that  the  disinfectants 
b  mMiA  active,  added  to  their 
and  then  gone  to  await  the 
r  the  miHiical  attendant  in 
Jey*a  foom. 


**Dr.  Brand  might  have  been  a  lit- 
tle more  gracious/'  said  Judy ;  **  but 
I  thought  it  better  not  to  interrupt 
him  by  explaining  that  you  were  not 
the  professional  nurse  he  took  you 
for." 

*^  Indeed,  there  was  no  occasion," 
answered  Miss  Clare.  "  I  should 
have  told  him  so  myself,  had  it  not 
been  that  I  did  a  nurse's  regular 
work  in  St.  George's  Hospital  for 
two  months,  and  have  been  there  for 
a  week  or  so,  several  times  since,  so 
that  I  believe  I  have  earned  the 
right  to  be  spoken  to  as  such.  Any- 
how, I  understood  every  word  he 
said." 

Meeting  Mr.  Morley  in  the  hall, 
the  doctor  advised  him  not  to  go  near 
his  wife,  diphtheria  being  so  infec- 
tious; hut  comforted  liim  with  the 
assurance  that  the  nurse  appeared  an 
intelligent  young  person,  who  would 
attend  to  all  his  directions :  adding,  — 

*^I  could  have  wished  she  had  been 
older ;  but  there  is  a  great  deal  of  ill- 
ness about,  and  experienced  nurses 
are  scarce.^' 

Miss  Clare  was  a  week  in  the 
house  before  ^Lr.  !Morley  saw  her,  or 
knew  she  was  there.  One  evening 
she  ran  down  to  the  dining-room, 
where  he  sat  over  his  lonely  glass 
of  Madeira,  to  get  some  brandy, 
and  went  straight  to  the  sideboard. 
As  she  turned  to  leave  the  room»  he 
recognized  her,  and  said,  in  some 
astonishment,  — 

»'  You  need  not  trouble  yourself, 
Miss  Clare.  The  nurse  can  get  what 
she  wants  from  Hawkins.  Indeed, 
I  don't  see'*  — 

'*  Excuse  me,  ^Ir.  Morley.  If  you 
wish  to  speak  to  me,  I  wiJl  return  in 
a  few  minutes;  but  I  have  a  good 
deal  to  attend  to  just  at  this  mo* 
ment," 

She  left  the  room;  «n4,  aa  \v<4  W^ 


4JI1II 


670 


Hie   Vicar* 8  Daughter. 


said  nothing  in  reply,  did  not  re- 
turn. 

Two  days  after,  about  the  same 
hour,  whether  suspecting  the  fact, 
or  for  ftome  other  reason,  he  re- 
quested the  butler  to  eend  the  nurse 
to  him, 

"  Tlie  nurse  from  the  nursery ^  sir ;  or 
the  young  person  as  teaches  the  young 
ladies  the  piano?"  asked  Hawkins, 

*'I  mean  the  sick-nurse/^  said  hia 
maiiter. 

In  a  few  minutes  Miss  Clare  en- 
tered the  dioing-roomj  and  ap- 
proached Mr.  Morley. 

"  How  do  you  do.  Miss  Clare  ? " 
ho  said  stiffly;  for  to  anyone  in  bis 
employment  he  was  gracious  only 
now  and  then,  "Allow  me  to  say 
that  I  doubt  the  propriety  of  your 
being  here  so  much.  You  cannot 
fail  to  carry  the  infection.  I  tliink 
your  lessons  had  better  be  postponed 
until  all  your  pupils  are  able  to 
benefit  by  them*  I  have  just  eent 
for  the  nurse,  and, — ^if  you  please^*  — 

**  Yes.  Hawkins  told  me  you  want- 
ed me,"  said  Miss  Clare. 

"  I  did  not  want  you.  He  must 
have  mistaken." 

*'  I  am  the  nurse,  Mr.  Morley." 

"Then  I  7nust  say  it  is  not  with 
my  approval,**  be  returned,  rising 
from  his  chair  in  anger.  *^I  was 
given  to  understand  that  a  properly- 
qualified  person  was  in  charge  of  my 
wife  and  family.  This  is  no  ordinary 
case,  where  a  little  coddling  is  all 
that  is  wanted," 

"I  am  perfectly  qualified,  Mr. 
Morley." 

He  walked  up  and  down  the  room 
several  times. 

**I  must  speak  to  Mrs.  Motley 
about  this,"  he  said, 

**  I  entreat  you  will  not  disturb 
her.  She  is  not  so  well  thia  after- 
noon." 


«  How  is  this,  Miss  Cli«? 
explain  to  me  how  it  is  t^s 
come  to  be  taking  a  part  in 
fairs  of  the  fiamOy  so  rny  i 
horn  that  for  which  Mrs.  Ma 
which  —  was  arraaged  betw«« 
Morley  and  yootsell** 

''It  is  but  an  tUustmticRi 
law  of  supply  and  deouuM 
swered  Marion.  **  A  nurse  vn 
ed;  Mrs,  Morley  had  tiKmg 
tions  to  a  liirt^d  nurse,  and  I« 
glad  to  be  able  to  set  her  n 
rest" 

**'It  waa  very  obliging  in ; 
doubt,"  he  retumt*d,  forcing  1 
mission  ;  "  but  —  but "  — 

**Let  us  leave  it  for  the  f 
if  you  please  j  for  wliile  I  oiq 
I    must    mind    my   busim 
Brand  expresses  himself  qtd 
fied  with  me,  so  far  aa  we  hn 
and  it  if  better  for  the  clul< 
to    mention     ^Ir*.    Morley, 
some  one  about  them  they  are 

She  leiTt  the  room  withoul 
further  parley. 

Dr.  Brand,  however,  not 
Mr.  Morley's  mind  at  i»st 
efficiency,  but  when    a  t^stri 
of  anxiety  waa  at  kngth  m 
ing  which    one  af^er    anot 
especially  Judy  herself,  had 
great  danger,  assured  him 
for  the  rigilance  and  inteUij 
^iiss  Clare,  joined  to  a  ce 
ing    influence   which   sba 
over  every  one  of  her  pi 
not   believe   he  could 
Mrs,  Morley  through.     Hh 
he  cltanged   his   tone   to 
measure,  still  addressing 
a  heif;ht  of  superiority. 

They  had   recovered  ao 
tboy  were  to  set  out  the  ne 
ing  for  Hn  " 

dressed  hti, 


The  Viaxr'g  Dmgkkt. 


eii 


iviD 

be    aid.     "Bj  dbk 

iniisl  be  in  no  anall  ooed 

chmnge  for  bw  wiO  be 

]^  doii*l  dnre  jroor  good- 
I  ^ficge  of  absmdltj,^  he  aid 

I  ftm  anxious  mbooi  m  j 

'    ihe    ralunea.    «<I 

nol  bem  getting  ink 

\  witbont  axe.     A  Bible- 

n  Bomao  Catholic  bare 

ig  dreadfall J,  I  bew.^ 

»j  oompceaed  bis   lip«* 

kg  ta  be  80  macb  in* 

one  who,  &om   wh&teTer 

called    sQcb     people     her 

ft  mc^  then/'  he  said  lofiily, 
envelope  from  the  mantle- 
id  baodiog  it  to  her,  **by 
tfaal  at  jour  leisure.*' 
I  opeo  it  now,  if  jrou  please/' 
Enad. 

Btned  a  baok-note  for  a  liun- 
Mr.  Morley,  tbotigh  a 
not  by  any  means 
She  replaced  it  in  the  enyel- 
biid  it  again  on  the  chim- 

owe  me  nothing,  Mr,  Mor- 
mid. 

jwk  nothing!      I  owe  you 
I  can  ever  repay/' 
don't  try  it,  please.     Yon 
generous;    but    indeed    I 
pt  it" 

oblige  me.    You  Tnight 

me,*^  be  added,  almost 

kfl  if  the  bond  was   bo 

Biooej   was   nothing  be- 

tbe  last  —  one   of  the 
lake   money  ^m^  Mr« 


ftm  tbink  m  midi  «f  il^ 
and  jrel  woald  look  down  on  mti  tb« 
man  if  I  soc^ptod  it* 

He  bit  bi»  Itp^  nibbcu  uss   lonrbevd 

with  te  hand,  duw  bndk  bk  Um^ 
and  tsmed  kw^  finm  hor. 

"I  abooM  boTexy  aotsy  to  eAod 

yom^thtmid;  ''and, bdiepe me, tbeie 
is  baldly  anj  thing  I  Talne  leos  than 
noB^*  I  have  ioovgb,  and  could  hare 
plenty  muxe  if  I  liked.  I  would  ratbeff 
have  yonr  headship  than  all  tbo 
money  yoo  poawwu  But  that  eannoi 
be,  00  long  aa^^ — 

She  stocked ;  she  was  on  the  point 
of  going  too  far,  she  thought 

"  So  long  as  what  ?  **  he  returned 
stemly. 

*•'  Bo  long  as  you  are  a  worshipper 
of  Mammon/'  she  answered ;  and  left 
the  room. 

She  burst  out  crying  when  she 
came  to  this  point  She  had  narrated 
the  whole  with  the  air  of  one  making 
a  confession. 

"  I  am  afraid  it  was  very  wrong," 
she  said ;  "  and  if  so^  then  it  was 
very  rude  as  well.  But  something 
seemed  to  force  it  out  of  me.  Just 
think :  there  was  a  generous  heart, 
clogged  up  with  self-importance  and 
wealth  !  To  me,  as  ho  stood  there 
on  the  hearth-rug,  he  was  a  most  pit- 
iable object  —  with  an  imperriona 
wall  betwixt  him  and  the  kingdom 
of  heaven  I  He  seemed  like  a  man 
in  a  terrible  dream,  from  which  I 
must  awake  him  by  calling  aloud  in 
his  ear  —  except  that,  alas  1  the 
dream  was  not  terrible  to  him,  only 
to  me !  If  he  had  been  one  of  my 
poor  friends,  guilty  of  some  plain 
fault,  I  should  have  told  him  so  with- 
out compunction  ;  and  why  not,  being 
what  he  was?  There  he  stood — a 
man  of  estimable  qualities,  of  benefi- 
cence, if  not  bounty;  no  miieri 
nor  consciously  un^^t\    ^^^  ^  man 


• 


i 


672 


The  Vicar's  Daughter. 


whose  heart  tlie  moth  and  rust  were 
eating  into  a  sponge  !  —  who  went  to 
church  every  Sunday,  and  had  many 
friend^,  not  one  of  whom,  not  even 
his  own  wife,  would  tell  him  that 
he  was  a  Mammon- worshipper,  and 
losing  hid  life.  It  may  have  been 
useless,  it  may  have  been  wrong ;  but 
I  felt  driven  to  it  by  bare  human 
pity  for  the  misery  I  saw  before  me." 

"  It  looks  to  rao  as  if  you  had  the 
message  given  you  to  give  him,*'  I  said. 

*'But  —  though  I  don't  know  it  — 
what  if  I  was  annoyed  with  him  for 
offering  me  that  wretched  hundred 
pounds  —  in  doing  which  he  was  act- 
ing up  to  the  light  that  was  in  him?" 

I  could  not  help  thinking  of  the 
light  which  is  darkness,  but  I  did  not 
say  so.  Strange  tableau,  in  this  our 
would-be  grand  nineteenth  century, — 
a  young  and  poor  woman  prophet- 
like rebuking  a  wealthy  London  mer- 
chant on  his  ow^  hearth-rug,  as  a 
worshipper  of  Mammon!  I  think 
she  was  right ;  not  because  he  was 
wrong,  but  because,  as  I  firmly  be- 
lieve, she  did  it  from  no  personal  mo- 
tives whatever,  although  in  her  mod- 
esty she  doubted  herself.  I  believe  it 
was  from  pure  regard  for  the  man 
and  for  the  truth,  urging  her  to  an 
irrepressible  utterance.  If  so,  should 
wo  not  say  that  she  spoke  by  the 
Spirit?  Only  I  shudder  to  think 
what  utterance  might,  with  an  equal 
outward  show,  be  attributed  to  the 
same  Spirit  Well,  to  his  own  mas- 
ter every  one  standeth  or  falleth; 
whether  an  old  prophet  who,  with  a 
lie  in  hia  right  hand,  entraps  an  hon- 
orable guest^  or  a  young  prophet 
who,  with  repentance  in  his  heart, 
walks  cahuly  into  the  jaws  of  the 
waiting  lion.  ^ 

>  S«H!  the  Sermoim  of  the  IWy,  Henry  Whit#* 
bfiid,  Ticar  of  St.  Joho't,  Ltmchoufle;  ft#  remarka- 
ble for  the  profundUiot  tlAclt  \u»\%hl  aafat  tlic  no- 
bh  temerity  of  Iheii  UUrwy  mo^lWa^.— G.U.Y>. 


And  no  one  can  teU  whai 
the  words  may  have  had  op 
I  do  not  believe  he  ever  m 
the  circumstance  to  his  wife, 
events,  there  was  no  cha&gi 
manner  to  Miss  Claris. 
could  not  help  fancying  that 
halo  of  quiet  reverence  n«^w 
the  love  in  every  look  the  < 
her. 

She   firmly  believed    that 
had  saved  her  Ufe,  and  that 
than  one  of  Iier  children, 
she  said,  could  equal   the 
and  tenderness  and  tirelesam 
nursing.     She    was    never 
never  impatient,   and   nerd 
ened.     Even  when   the   tcjn 
be  flowing  down  her  face,  1 
never  left  her  eyes   nor  tl 
her    voice;    and     when    tli< 
all  getting  better,  and  she 
nursery   piano   brought   out 
landing  in  the  middle  of 
rooms,  and  there  played  and 
them,  it  was,  she  said,  like 
of  an  angel,  come  fresh  to  tl 
with  the  same  old  news  of  ji 
good-will.      When    the    ch 
this  I    had    from    the    fri 
brought  with  her — ^wcre   U 
the  fever,  and  talking  of  stn 
frightful  things   they  saw,  d 
from    her   would    quiet    th 
her  gentle,  firm    command 
ways   sufficient  to   make    i 
fastidious   and    rebelliouB 
medicine. 

She  came  out  of  it  very  | 
a  good  deal  worn*  But  the 
set  off  for  Hastings,  she  retl 
Lime  Court.  Tlio  next  d»J 
sumed  her  lessons,  and  soon  n 
her  usual  appearance.  A  ch 
work,  she  always  said,  ws 
restorative.  But  before  m  md 
over  I  succeeded  in  petsuadia 


The  Vicar  *8  Daughter. 


673 


,  week  &t  the  Hall ;  and  from 
tit  she  retiirne4  quite  invigor- 
j  Onme,  whom  she  went  to  sea, 
[hj  this  time  »he  was  married 
Turner,  —  wag  especially  de- 
.  with  her  delight  in  the  sim- 
of  nature.  Born  and  bred 
clodcst  town-environment,  she 
j-et  a  iensitiveness  to  all  that 
|o  the  country  so  dear  to  us  who 
P  bom  in  it,  which  Connie  said 
Mated  oars,  and  gave  lier  special 
pfaetiAn  as  proving  that  my  oft  re- 
^g  dread  lest  such  feelings  might 
h^  the  result  of  childish  anso- 
na  groundless,  and  that  they 
,  -  .  utial  to  the  human  nature, 
1 90  felt  by  God  himselt  Driving 
fg  in  the  pony-carriage,  —  for 
pie  Im  not  able  to  walk  much, 
^^h  she  is  well  enough  to 
'  l(fc  thop^oghly,  — Marion  would 
op^n  ten  things  in  amoming, 
my  sister  had  never  observed. 
Kfmhotis  e6rects  of  light  and  shade, 
Ldi>e  variety  of  feeling  they  caused, 
Uy  interested  her.  She  would 
j^ffit  a  lurking  sunbeam,  as  another 
1  a  hidden  flower.  It  seem- 
I'lt  a  glitter  in  its  nest  of 
con  Id  escape  her.  She  would 
be  carriage,  and  make  a  long 
[  Umnigh  the  fields  or  woods ; 
en  they  met  at  the  appointed 
^voiild  have  her  hands  full  not 
rs  only,  but  of  leaTes  and 
'*i4  weedy  things,  showing 
^t  interest  in  such  lowly 
few  wodld  notice  except  from 
llaBc  know!ed;;e,  of  which  she 
Bc :  It  waa  the  thing  itself — 
;  aad  its  bome  —  that  drew  her 
I  cannot  help  thinking 
msigbt  mm  profoniidly  one 
intereii  in  tb«  con^spondiog 
of  boma  Hib  axid  ciicum- 


CHAPTER  XSVn. 
MISS  GLABS   AHOKGST  HBH  FBIESTDa 

I  MUST  give  an  instance  of  the  way 
in  which  Marion  —  I  am  tired  of 
calling  her  Miss  Clare,  and  about 
this  time  I  began  to  drop  it  — exei^ 
cised  her  influence  over  her  Mends. 
I  trust  the  episode,  in  a  story  so  frag- 
mentary as  mine,  made  up  of  pieces 
only  of  a  quiet  and  ordinary  life,  will 
not  seem  unsuitable.  How  I  wish  I 
could  give  it  you  as  she  told  it  to  me  1 
so  graphic  was  her  nirrative,  and  so- 
true  to  the  forms  of  speech  amongst 
the  London  poor,  I  must  do  what 
I  can,  well  assured  it  must  come 
far  short  of  the  original  represen|ib' 
tion. 

One  evening,  as  she  was  walking 
up  to  her  attic,  she  heard  a  noise  in 
one  of  the  rooms,  followed  by  a  sound 
of  weeping.  It  was  occupied  by  a 
journeyman  house-painter  and  hia 
wife,  who  had  been  married  several 
years,  but  whose  only  child  had  died 
about  six  months  before,  since  which 
kfis  things  had  not  been  going  on  so^ 
well  between  them.  Some  natures 
cannot  bear  sorrow:  it  makes  them 
•irritable,  and,  instead  of  drawing  them 
closer  to  their  own,  tends  to  isolate 
them.  When  she  entered,  she  found 
the  woman  ciyingi  and  the  man  in  a 
lurid  sulk. 

«  What  Is  the  matter  ?  ^  she  asked, 
no  doubt  in  her  usual  cheerful  tone, 

**  I  little  thought  it  would  come  to 
this  when  I  married  him,'*  sobbed 
the  woman,  while  the  man  remained 
motionle<ts  and  speechleaa  on  his 
chair,  with  his  legs  atretdbed  oat  at 
full  length  before  him. 

'<  Would  yoD  mind  teUing  mb  aboal 
it?  There  may  be  sodm  mlstaiE^ 
you  know." 

*'  There  am*t  no  mMkm  ta  ikiU^ 


674 


The   Vicar's  Daughter. 


said  the  woman,  removing  the  apron 
die  liail  been  holding  to  her  e^^es,  aad 
turning  a  cheek  towards  Marion,  upon 
which  the  marks  of  an  open-handed 
blow  were  visible  enough.  '*  I  didn't 
marry  him  to  be  knocked  about  like 
that" 

"She  calls  tliiit  knocking  about, 
do  she  ?  '*  growled  the  husband. 
"  What  did  she  go  for  to  throw  her 
cotton  gownd  in  my  te^th  for,  aa  if  it 
was  my  blame  she  wam't  in  ailks  and 
aatina  ?  " 

After  a  good  deal  of  questioning 
•on  her  part^  and  confused  and  recrimi- 
native statement  on  theirs,  Marion 
inade  out  the  following  as  the  facts  of 
tl»  case :  — 

For  the  first  time  since  they  were 
married,  the  wife  had  had  an  invita- 
tion to  spend  the  evening  with  some 
-liemale  friends.  The  party  had  taken 
^lace  tlie  night  before ;  and  although 
she  had  returned  in  ill-humor,  it  had 
not  broken  out  until  just  as  Marion 
entered  the  house.  The  cause  was 
tliia :  none  of  the  guests  were  in  a 
station  much  superior  to  her  ow^n,  yet 
she  found  herself  the  only  one  who 
^ad  not  a  silk  dress  :  hers  was  a  print, 
and  shabby.  Now»  when  she  was* 
married,  she  had  a  silk  dress,  of  which 
fthe  said  her  husband  had  been  proud 
•enough,  when  they  were  walking  to- 
gether. But  when  she  saw  the  last 
of  it,  she  saw  the  last  of  its  sort,  for 
never  another  had  he  given  her  to 
her  back ;  and  she  didn^t  marry  him 
to  come  down  in  the  world  —  that  she 
didn*tl 

**0f  course  not,"  said  Marion. 
"  You  married  him  because  you  loved 
him,  and  thought  him  the  finest  fel- 
low you  knew." 

"  And  so  he  was  then,  grannie.  But 
just  look  at  him  now !  " 

The  man  moved  uii^BAWy ,  b\it  with- 
out  bending  \\\s    on^tteUV^^  V^^, 


The  fact  was,  that  since  the 
the  child  he  had  so  far  taker 
that  he  was  not  tinfrequ 
worse  for  it ;  which  had  b^ 
occurrence  before, 

'*lt    ain*t    my    fault,'' 
"when  work  ain't  argoin,'  i 
dress  her  like    a    duchc^as, 
proud  to  see  my  wife  riggi 
e*er  a  man    on  Vm;    and 
know !  and   when  she  cast 
trairy  up  to  me,  I'm  blowwl 
keep  my  hands  ofi*  on  her. 
the  woman  I  took  her  for,  i 
^ave  a  temper  I** 

"I  don't  doubt  it,"  sa 
**  Temper  is  a  troublesome 
all  of  us,  and  makes  us 
we're  sorry  for  afterwardi 
sorry  for  striking  her  — 
now?" 

There  was  no  response,, 
the  suHcn  heart  silence  cl^ 
Doubtless  ho  would  have  g 
to  obliterate  the  fact,  but 
not  confess  that  he  had  b^ 
We  are  so  stupid,  that  coufm 
to  us  to  fix  the  wrong  uf 
stead  of  throwing  it,  as  it 
the  depths  of  the  eternal  H 

'*  I  may  have  my  tempci5 
woman,  a  little  mollified 
as  she  thought,  that  Miss 
her  part ;  **  but  here  am  I,  sll 
morning  to  night  to  make 
meet,  and  goin^  out  every 
get  a-washin'  or  a  charin,* 
'avin'  a  bit  of  fun  from  yei 
years  end,  and  liim  off  U 
as  ho  calls  it !  —  an*  it's  a 
like  to  blow  out  my  brains 
night,  when  he  comes  home 
en  fit  'j  for  it's  worso  and 
get,  miss,  like  the  rt-st  on  ^ 
woman  could  be  proud,  as 
to  call  him  hers.  And  when 
to  tea  for  once  in  a  wmy^  t4 
ih.\.  \i^*0!k«!i  ^&  Sa  tio  bctl 


Vicar  *M  Dmighier, 


I  'am*t  got  m 

m  tnoai^  for  me  feo 

:  — that  dn  itiek  F 

ri.     I  do  lieiri  J  k»ve  to  b^Te 

Ihiiik  mj  kusbttiid  caie  m 

ae^  let^be  'at  lie  iat^t, 

aod  wlieii  be  •€»!  ma  out 


■ij»^» 


I  biofce  down  aftcsk 
dldn^t    jt  flop    at  iiooie 
:  didiL't  tefl  je  to  go,*'  he 
mIjti  caEiiig    her    a    coarse 

ard,**  «ai«l  IfanoB,  "such 
»  not  at  fisr  HM  to  bearj  atill 

awn  wife** 
aerer  mmd  me :  Fiii  used  to 
id  tbe  womaa  ftpitefnllj. 
a  lie^"  roared  the  man:  "I 
led  tkh  a  word  to  je  afore. 
le  mad  to  hear  je.  I 
dotlies  off  jotir  back,  do 
bed  the  monej,  ye  might 
Iret   and  lace   for   aaght  I 

■^mtld  care  little  to  go  in 
!dijunoDd4,  if  ^u  didn't  care 

in  themr'*  said  Marion, 
i  tli<e  woman  burst  into  fresh 

the  man  put  on  a  face  of 
I — the  worst  sign,  Marion 

bad  yet  seen  in  htm^  not 
\  the  blow ;  for  to  despise  is 
n  to  atnke* 

bd|>  stopping  my  story  liere 
A  reflection  that  forces  itself 
L     Many  a  man   would   re- 

£<gait  the  idea  of  striking 
who  will  yet  cherish  against 
irerft ion  which  is  infinitely 
I*lie  working-man  who  strikes 
but  b  iorry  for  it,  and  tries 
SOl^fida  by  being  more  ten- 
^  ft  remilt  which  many  a 
TO  consider  cheap  at  the 
a  blow  endured,  —  is  an  im- 
ij  inperior  husband  to  t)ie 
who  shotrs  hia    wife   the 


(tTS 


abeolttte  pcdileneai,  but 
that  Teiy  poIHenaaa  aa  a 
lo  Ibttify    himself  in  bia 
and  centempt. 

Marion  saw  that  while  the  tidea 
ran  thus  high,  ooching could  be  dose; 
certainly,  at  least^  in  the  way  of  ar- 
gaatent.  Whether  tbe  man  had 
been  drinking  die  coald  not  tell,  but 
suspected  that  mnal  haro  a  share  in 
the  erO  of  hia  nood.  Sba  went  up 
to  hrm,  laid  her  hand  on  hia  ebottUer, 
mnd  said^  — 

'^Toa're  out  of  aorta,  Hichard. 
Come  and  ha^e  a  enp  of  tM^  and  I 
will  sing  to  yott.** 

"  I  don't  want  no  tea.** 

"  You're  fond  of  the  piano,  though. 
And  you  like  to  hear  me  mg,  donH 
youf" 

"Wen,  I  tlo,'*  he  muttered,  as  if 
the  admission  were  forced  from  him, 

**  Come  with  me,  then/' 

He  dragged  himself  up  from  his 
chair,  and  was  about  to  follow  her. 

'^  You  ain't  going  to  take  him  from 
me,  grannie,  after  he's  been  and 
Btnick  me  ?  "  interposed  his  wife,  in  a 
tone  half  pathetic,  half  injured. 

<*Come  after  us  in  a  few  minutea,'* 
said  Marion,  in  a  low  Toice,  and  led 
tlie  way  from  the  room. 

Quiet  as  a  lamb  Richard  followed 
her  up  stairs.  She  made  him  sit  in 
the  easy-chair,  and  began  with  a  low, 
plaintive  song,  which  she  followed 
with  other  songs  and  music  of  a  simi- 
lar character.  He  neither  heard  nor 
saw  his  wife  enter,  and  both  sat  for 
about  twenty  tnirmtes  without  a  word 
spoken.  Then  Marion  ma<lp  a  paime, 
and  the  wife  rose  and  Approached  her 
husband.     He  waa  fast  a.-tleep, 

"Don't  wake  him»"  said  Marion; 
"let  him  have  his  sleep  out.  You  go 
down  anil  get  the  place  tidy,  and  a 
nice  bit  of  supper  Cox  Ulm  — \t  1<»^ 


676 


The  Vicar's  Daughter. 


'*  Oh;  yes !  lie  braugbt  me  home 
his  week'8  wag^a  this  very  night" 

** The  whole?" 

"  Yes,  grannie  " 

**  Then  weren't  you  too  hard  upon 
him?  Just  think:  be  hiul  been 
trying  to  behave  himself,  ami  had  got 
the  better  of  the  pnblic-fjouse  for 
once,  and  come  home  fancying  you'd 
be  so  pleased  to  see  him;  and 
you"— 

"  He'd  been  drinking,"  interrupted 
EHza,  "  Only  he  said  b3  how  it  was 
but  a  pot  of  beer  he*d  won  in  a  wager 
from  a  mate  of  his." 

**  Well,  if,  after  that  beginning,  he 
yet  brought  you  home  his  money,  he 
ought  to  have  had  another  kind  of 
reception.  To  tliink  of  the  wife  of  a 
poor  man  making  such  a  fu^  about 
a  silk  dress!  Why,  Eliza,  I  nerer 
hatl  a  silk  dress  in  ray  life  {  and  I 
don't  think  1  ever  KhiillJ* 

"  Laws,  grannie  I  who'd  ha* 
thought  that  now  ! " 

"  You  see  I  have  other  use«  for 
my  money  than  buying  things  for 
show," 

**That  you  do,  grannie  I  But  you 
see,"  she  added,  somewhat  inconse- 
quently,  **  we  'ain*t  got  no  child,  and 
Dick  he  take  it  ill  of  me,  and  don't 
care  to  save  his  money  ;  so  he  nevtT 
takes  me  out  novvheres,  and  I  do  be 
BO  tired  o^  stopping  indoors,  every  day 
and  all  day  long,  that  it  tunis  rae  sour, 
I  dobeheve.  I  didn't  use  to  be  cross- 
grained,  miss,  Butj  laws!  I  feels  now 
as  if  Vd  let  him  knock  me  about  ever 
80|  if  only  he  wouldn't  say  as  how  it 
was  nothing  to  him  if  I  waa  dreased 
ever  so  fine." 

"  You  run  and  g^t  his  supper," 

Eliza  went;  and  Marion,  sitting 
down  again  to  her  instrument,  impro- 
vised for  an  hour.  Next  to  her  Kew 
Testament,  this  wa»\\fct  ^«a.l^i^isc«sv- 


one  then,  and  nobody  hot  6 
any  thing  but  the  piatto.  N 
impede  the  flow  of  berbe^t 
that  in  a  chair  beside  bet  I 
a  weary  man,  the  wa^es  of  I 
passions  she  had  stilled,  mmi 
of   whose    dihvj  t«nt»l 

soothed,  with  c  iuri^ 

cords  of  her  own  jspint*    M 
say  what  tender  iutlnencni 
be  stealing  over  him,  born 
fair  i^uuuds?  foremen  tlielul 
the  void  was  roused  into  Id 
by  the  wind   that   roam#d 
face    of    its    deep.       No 
jarred  with  hers*     In  the  p 
the  most  degraded,  «he  ielil 
A  face,  even  if  besotted,  m 
only  in  virtue  of  being  iu  I 
of  God,     Tliat  a  man  waa  \ 
all,  must  be  because   be  H 
And  this  man  was  far  iti 
being  of  the  worsts     Will 
side  her,  she  could  pmy  wil 
the  good  of  having   the 
clos6t  shut,  and  some  of  tl 
the  gathering  together  a» 
was  love,  as  ever,  the  ossil 
the   foreign,   the   liamKmi 
unJike;  the  builder  of  the 
the  dei^eit,  and  of  the  cliai 
nn\rket-place. 

As  bhe  sat  and  disoou; 
self,  she    perceived   thai 
was  as  certainly  saflt;ring 
as  any  flue  lady  in  Mayfi 

"  Have  ^ou  ever   been 
tional  Gallery,  Hi  chard  1^ 
ivithout  turning   her  h 
ment  she  heard  him  move.! 

"  No,  grannie,"  be  am»w< 
yawn.      **DonV    most    U 
sort  of  a  place  it  be  now. 
ain-tit?"  ( 

''  No.  It*8  a  great  pld 
pictures,  many  of  tliein  h« 
^^^f&  old     They r«  taken  i 


fort     She  aun^  and  ^la^^ed  \>QOck  m  ^<i  ^Qfc\*tx\\\xi»\vN^*^^xWi 


The  Vicar  *s  Daughter. 


677 


^  Wouldn't  you  like  to 
fbni  9ome  day  ? '' 
*  «8  I  should  much.*' 
r«re  to  go  with  you,  noW| 
H  eodne  of  them  to  you  ?  I 
b  take  your  wife  and  me 
liliday«     You  can^t  thiuk, 

0  out  to  your  work  every 

ftome  it  is  to  be  in  tlie 
lorn i  11  g  to   night,  espe- 
time  of  the  year,  when 
biningy  and  the  very  spar- 

1  to  sing  t  " 

%j  go  out  when  Mho  please, 

[  ftin't  no  tyrant.^' 

o  doesn*t  care  to  go  with* 

foQ  wouldn't  have  her  like 

me   slatternly  women  you 

ig   at    the    corners*,    with 

n  their  sides  and  their  el* 

bg  out,  ready  to  talk   to 

at  comes  in  the  way." 

b  was  never  none  o'  sich, 

t  Iciiows  her  as  welPa  e'er 

gll  she  do  'ave  a  temper 
w 

Doment  Kli^a  appeared  in 
ly,  saying,  — 

►e    come    to  yer    supper, 
la'  got  a  slice  o*  ham  an' 
for  ye.     Come  along," 
!  don^t  know  as  I  mind  — 

£1  foUy  Liza.     I  belieVe  I 
eep   in    grannie^s   cheer 
i  playin'  an'  a  sin  gin',  I 

Pht,  like  a  werry  nightin- 
tV  an'  me  a  snorin'  all  to 
0  a  runaway  locomotive  ! 
come  and  have  a  slice  o' 
\'  a  tater,.grannie?  The 
ai^  the  less  we'd  grudge  it.*' 
|i9  i/  that,*'  chimed  in 
}o    now,   grannie ;    please 

with  pleasure,"  said  Mar- 
ty went  down  together. 

got  the   table  set  out 
a  foaming  jug  of  porter 


beside  the  ham  and  potatoes.  Before 
they  bad  finished,  Marion  had  per- 
suaded Bichard  to  take  his  wife  and 
her  to  the  National  Gallery,  the  next 
day  but  one,  which,  fortunately  for 
her  purpose,  was  Whit  Monday,  a 
day  whereon  Richard,  who  was  firom 
the  north,  always  took  a  holiday. 

At  the  National  Gallery,  the  house- 
painter,  in  virtue  of  his  craft,  claimed 
the  exercise  of  cnticism  j  and  his  re- 
marks were  amusing  enough.  He 
had  more  than  once  painted  a  sign- 
board for  a  country  inn,  which  fact 
formed  a  bridge  between  the  cover- 
ing of  square  yards  with  color  and 
the  painting  of  pictures  ;  and  he  nat- 
Q Hilly  used  the  vantage-ground  thus 
gained  to  enhance  his  importance 
with  his  wife  and  Miss  Clare.  He 
was  rather  a  clever  fellow  too,  though 
as  little  educated  in  any  other  direc- 
tion than  that  of  his  calling  as  might 
well  be. 

Ail  the  woman  seemed  to  care 
about  in  the  pictures  was  this  or 
that  something  which  reDHiided  her, 
often  remotely  enough  I  dare  say,  of 
her  former  life  in  the  country.  To- 
wards the  close  of  their  visit,  they  ap- 
proached a  picture  — one  of  Hobbi- 
ma's,  I  think  ^ — which  at  once  rivet- 
ed her  attention* 

**Look,  look,  Dick!"  she  cried. 
*♦  There's  just  such  a  cart  as  my 
father  U5ed  to  drive  to  the  town  in. 
Farmer  White  always  sent  him  when 
the  mbtresB  wanted  any  thing  and 
he  didn't  care  to  go  hisself.  And,  0 
Dick!  there's  the  very  moral  of  the 
cottage  we  lived  in  !  Ain^t  it  a  love. 
now?" 

"  Nice  enough,"  Dick  replied. 
"But  it  wam^t  there  I  seed  you, 
Liza,  It  wur  at  the  big  house  where 
you  was  housemaid,  you  know. 
That'll  be  it,  I  suppose  —  away  there 
like^  over  the  trees." 


TWO  SONNETS. 

BY    JOHar    W.  CHABWICK* 

L 

UNCONB0IOUSXE8S. 

I  BEAD  til  at,  when  Beethoven  was  grown  o% 
The  mighty  ravishment  of  that  great  power! 
Which  boliia  ua  willing  captives  to  this  hou 
Still  like  a  torrent  from  his  bosom  rolled  ; 
But  oil  his  outward  sense  it  took  no  bold. 
Deaf  were  hiis  eara  to  all  that  perfect  dower  | 
That  gusJied  from  hinij  a??  fragrance  from  a  ] 
In  tenderest  joy  a  million  hearts  to  fold. 
I  read  of  One  from  out  whose  heart  there  came 
The  music  of  a  life  at  one  with  God; 
Which  makes  the  ages  echo  with  liiii  fame, 
And  <*  Holy  Land  "  the  land  which  erst  lie  1 
And  still,  though  teiider,  he  with  words  of  bT 
Kncoimtered  one  wlio  dared  to  cull  him  good« 

IL 

SUBCONaCIOtTBK^SS. 

Yet  when  the  mightiest  of  music's  lords, 
Master-magician  of  that  finer  speech 
Which  tells  of  things  that  words  can  never 
At^d  room  for  soul  as  well  adfe^MMftAflHi^^H 


bffli 


ThB  Brahmo  Somaj. 


679 


THE    BRAHMO    SOMAJ, 


attmctiODS  of  an  old 

1  town  of  Massachusetts,  for- 

toted   for  its   trade  with   the 

ilee^  is  a  tnuseum  of  curios  i* 

mght    together    from    every 

1  di9[>Iayed  in  a  spacious  hall. 

rs  from  afar  have  felt  repaid 

tag   it  bj  the   variety   and 

of  its  collection.    Only 

t  of  maturer  years  can 

i«  iofluence  of  such  a  liall 

»   ufwa   a   growing  3^outh, 

datef  one  who   enjoyed    its 

can   realize   in   part   their 

The   boy   who   lived   in   its 

tood   wad   at  home   all    the 

er.      For  could   he   not   on 

d&j8  have  a  ticket  for  the 

enter    the    chamber   of    all 

■avel  around  both  capes,  and 

\j  hama  again  in  one  after- 

k  around  this  room  was  to 
iTigiite  the  globe.  It  would 
ong  to  de^ribe  all  the  sights 
mf.  But  the  voyage  began 
with  a  group  of  figures, 
aeen^   could    never  he 

glaM  case«y  dressed  in 

linen  and  silk  of  the  tropics, 

ynied    cheeks    and    shining 

ii^  and  small,  piercing  black 

of  Calcutta  merchants, 

and  their  attendants,  met 

;h  risitor's  wondering  gaze. 

y  years  have  gone  by  since 

ictd  figurefl  traded  with  his 

magi  oat  ion^   and   gave    him 

if  the  far  East  in  return  for 

ennosity.     And   to-dav,  as 

pts   to  picture   Bam  mob  un 

CHiander  Sen,  the   founder 

Bitorer  of  the  Brahmo  faith 

ills  mind  goes  back  to  the 


old  Salem   museum ,  and  renews  ita 

commerce  with  the  life-like  images 
claii  in  silk  and  linen. 

*'  But  who  are  Bammohun  Boy  and 
Chunder  Sen  ?  and  what  is  the  Brah- 
mo faith  ?*'  you  may  ask.  It  will  be 
the  object  of  this  paper  to  answer 
these  questions. 

Bammohun  Boy  was  born  at  Bor- 
douan^  in  the  province  of  Bengal,  in 
1780.  He  was  educated  as  a  Brah- 
min- He  early  conceived  a  horror  of 
the  idolatries  practised  by  the  Hin- 
doos, and  wrote  a  book  **  Against  the 
Idolatry  of  all  Religions,"  which  gave 
great  offence,  and  made  him  many 
enemies.  His  acquaintance  with  San- 
scrit enabled  biro  to  study  the  Hin- 
doo Scriptures ;  and  he  became  con- 
vinced that  the  original  records  taught 
a  system  of  pure  theism,  which  main- 
tained the  existence  of  one  sole 
Grod,  infinite  and  eternal,  whose  ac- 
ceptable worship  was  with  the  mind, 
and  who  demanded  virtue  of  his  wor- 
shippers. He  translated  portions  of 
these  sacred  books,  and  strove  to  con- 
vert the  people  to  his  pure  and  ex- 
alted views.  In  due  time  his  studies 
brought  him  to  the  Bil>le;  and  his 
careful  reading  of  it  led  liim  to  the  con- 
clusion that  "the  doctrines  of  Christ 
were  more  conducive  to  moral  princi- 
ples, and  better  adapted  to  the  use  of 
rational  beings,  than  any  other  which 
had  come  to  his  knowledge."  His 
clear  mind  rejected  the  doctrine  of 
the  Trinity,  as  being  in  reality  polyi 
theistic.  In  order  to  satisfy  himself 
as  to  the  teaching  of  the  Bible,  he 
read  the  Je^rish  and  Christian  Scrip- 
tures in  their  original  languages.  This 
thorough  reading  of  the  Bible  con- 
vinced him  that  the  doctrine  of  the 
Trinity  was  not  taa^l  t\v^x^\  v3L4.\ift 


i 


680 


TJie  Brahmo  Somof, 


therefor©  accepted  the  Christian  reli- 
gion  as  true  and  dirine.  Having 
come  to  this  conviction,  he  endeav- 
ored to  conviace  hm  countrymen  of 
the  truth  of  Christianity,  and  pre- 
pared a  book  called  *^  The  Preoept«i  of 
Jesus :  the  Guide  to  Peace  and  Hap- 
pme8&"  This  was  a  coin  pi  lat  ion  of 
the  moral  teachings  of  Jesus  con- 
tained in  the  four  Gospels ;  i.  e.,  it 
was  the  teaching  of  Jesus  separated 
from  the  other  matter  contained  in 
the  New  Testament  He  fraakly 
sayS)  in  his  introduction  to  this  work, 
that  he  omits  **  the  historical  and 
other  passages,  lx*caase  they  are  lia- 
ble to  doubts  and  disputes  of  free- 
thinkers and  antiohristians ;  espe- 
cially miraculous  relations,  which  are 
mac]i  lesfl  wonderful  than  the  fabri- 
cated tales  handed  down  to  the  na- 
tives of  Asia,  and  therefore  would  be 
likely  to  carry  very  little  weight 
with  them*" 

Of  course,  this  free  use  of  the  New 
Testament  drew  down  upon  Karamo- 
bun  Hoy  the  condemnation  of  the 
Christian  teachers  in  India  f  for  the 
things  omitted  were  tlie  basis  of  their 
systems. 

Confine  the  sects  to  the  words  of 
Jesus,  and  little  room  would  be  left 
for  the  building  up  of  sectarian  Chris* 
tianity.  The  attatiks  of  his  Christian 
opponchts  were  deliherately  and  most 
ably  answered  by  this  Hindoo  stu- 
dent of  the  Bible.  But  in  vain,  "  He 
that  heareth  my  commandments  and 
keepeth  them,  he  it  is  that  loveth 
me,"  was  the  Hindoo  disciple's  justi- 
fication for  giving  his  people  only  the 
csommaudments  of  Jesus.  But  the 
churches  ha4l  substituted  for  the  Mas- 
ter*a  word,  **  He  that  heareth  my  doc- 
trines and  believeth  them,  he  it  is 
that  is  Cfiristian;*'  and  they  rejected 
the  simple  follower  of  Jesus, 


in  1833,  whither  he 
political  mission.  He 
a  Unitarian  ChriBtian,  the  t] 
which  body  he  believed  ven 
tent  with  the  primitive 
Brahminism. 

Such    was    Rammohun   Q 
reputed     founder     of     the 
Somaj* 

And  w*ho  is  Chunder  S<m  ? 

Babu  Keshnb  Chunder  Sn 
Hindoo  of  good  family,  beM 
the  physician  caste  in  India, 
early  left  an  orphan,  and  [ilaofl 
uncle  in  an  English  sch«H>l 
terwards  graduated  at  the  t^ 
Calcutta.     This  education  gi^ 
thorough  knowledge  of  En*gli 
ature  [  and  this  it  was  which  ll 
bonds  of  idolatry,  and 
him  from  the  religion  of  hk 
He  then  joined  a  society  h 
Lower  Bengal  as  the  Brahin 
and  before  long  became  the 
edged  leader  of  one  brandb 
reformers.      The   Bengal  & 
knowledge     him     aa     Iheir 
leader. 

In  the  spring  of  1870,  hi 
visit  to  England,  for  the  pii 
bringing  India  and  Kngland  ii 
sympathy,  and  a  better  unde 
of  each  other.     It  is   ^m 
lished    speechea,   and    thoe« 
English  gentlemen  who  recei 
that  we  have  gathered  moi 
knowledge  of  Chunder  Sent! 
his  English  visit,  he  was  the! 
*'  The  Indian  Mirror,"  the  org 
Brahmo  Somaj ;  and  his  inJ 
still  perceptible,   although 
mount,  in  that  paper. 

His  religion,  as  revealed  t| 
mons  and  addresses,  is  in  ps 
cord  with  the  ChnstianitT  i 
He  does  not  acc<  i 
the  doctrines  of  at 


£aaQLmohan  B^j  dVod  m  ILn^asA   ^^ofta^c^i^^^sw^Afi^ja^thei 


UTirrFiiiith^i 

•of  tbe  RnkmSon^  to  ind 
titM  ihuidj  tlnege  an  two  celioob  in 
tD8  HHfyp     Xm  nw  fSrtjT 


B«nr  (wW  k  adcwwri* 
edged  bjmaflj  of  tiw  BnlnM*  at  tlit 
r  of  die^MaetjX  illt  Unltatei 

tke  Ai^  orndieab,  aikd  tii»  P^ttgfw- 

sires,  or  oooseiTiitifVt,  of  t^  BnlMBO 

dnuc^    At  a 

held  in  ladta  m  J 

took  plM%  wUcli  la  tli»  dtwriMI :  «* 

'"B^pceeentetivaa  Ami  1 1 
horn  muij  Bc&IiBaiockttBdbaiti 


682 


The  Brakmo  Somof. 


■ 


ent  They  had  gathered,  n^joidng  in 
hope,  from  city  and  country.  The  min- 
kter  of  the  Adis  was  hnnging  to  a  cJose 
the  crucial  serrice  of  that  crisid  hour, 

*  Can  we,  or  can  we  not,  be  one  ? '  waa 
the  voice  upon  the  air.  *Not  with- 
out we  renounce  Jesus,  and  deny  tlie 
founder  of  the  Somaj\*  was  the  burden 
of  the  Adi  ministers  reply,  He  sat 
upon  the  dais ;  Keshub  on  the  floor 
at  his  feet.  Emphatically  and  repeat- 
edly, in  his  discourse,  had  Keslmb^s 

*  father  in  the  ministry*  warned  him 
that  he  was  drawing  dangerously  near 
to  Christ  Ho  besought  him  never  to 
allow  the  name  of  Jesus  to  be  named 
in  the  fnandir  (Brahnio  church), 
which  had  already,  so  he  said  (see  the 
**  Hin-or  s  ^'  Bralinio  report  of  it),  be- 
gun to  be  a  Christian  scare>crow,  or 
'  terror  of  Christ.'  He  ceased,  and  the 
large  congregation  were  about  to  dis- 
perse in  a  silence  which  would  have 
given  consent.  Then  the  Spirit  of 
truth, which  is  the  Spirit  of  God,  moved 
in  the  soul  of  our  Keshub^  with  a  power 
that  he  did  not,  and  could  not,  resist 
The  voice  of  that  Spirit  rose  clearer 
and  clearer,  louder  and  louder, 
BO  as  to  enchain  the  attention,  not 
only  of  the  crowd  witliin  his  chapel, 
but  of  the  crowd  without  He,  trem- 
bling with  emotioUj  and  fighting  do^vn 
the  tears,  ai*ked  of  God  that  be  and 
such  as  heard  him  might  never  be  un- 
true to  any  one  of  their  great  and  holy 
brothers  of  the  past.  *My  Gud,  I 
cannot  renounce  any  one  of  the  true 
brothers  of  my  soul,  — amef  p ratter 
hhaiJ'  Is'one  that  heard  that  voice 
of  God,  Irom  tha  heart  of  Keshub, 
could  misconstrue  its  meaning  or  its 
results.  He  wuuld  bo  simply  true  to 
what  ihy^i  and  honest  inquiry  should 
show  hira  to  be  true  in  Jesus.  He 
would  cry  with  the  young  prophet 
Micaiah,  *  As  the  Lord  livetli,  what 
the  Lord  God  aaitU  uiit^  mos^Xk^^^V^ 


I  speak!'      The   blo^ 
The  deed  was  done. 
tion  dispersed^  aaying,  ^  l^t(m 
we  are  two**  " 

Making  all  allowance  U» 
sionary's  Christian  prt?dilecti« 
waving  our  opinion  as  to  the 
amtion   of  thecie  two  partiet 
Brahmo  Somaj,  there  is  enoufl 
published  speeches  of  Cham 
to  make  it  certain  that  in  aca 
this  kind,  he  would  c^rtain^ 
by  Jesus  as  the  chief  of  all  the 
ers  of  his  aouL''   In  an  addr^ 
in    Calcutta,    in    1866,  oa 
Christ:     Europe    and    Adi^ 
tracing  the  wondrous  life  of  i 
says,  '*  Tell  me,  brethren,  wh| 
regard  Jesus  of  Naxoreth,  ihi 
ter's  son,  as  an  ordinary  mao^ 

*'  Is  there  a  single  soul  iu  t 
assembly,  wlio  would  scrupl 
cribe  extraordinary  greatpes4 
pernatural  moral  heroism  I 
Christ  and  him  crucified?  1 
he  who  by  his  wis^lom  tllti 
and  by  his  power  saved,  a  m 
wicked  world,  —  waa  not  he  \ 
left  us  such  a  priceleaa  legal 
vme  truth,  and  wboise  bl 
wrought  such  wonders  for 
hundred  years,  —  waa  not  1 
ordinary  humanity  ? 

**  Blessed  Jesus  I  immortal 
God!  For  the  world  he  ii 
died ;  may  the  world  appreo 
and  follow  his  precepts !  •' 

And  fartbcr  on,  referring 
slurs  which  Europeans  had  C 
the  Asiatics,  Sen  cried  oinl 
not  Jesus  Christ  an  Asiatio 
and  his  disciples  were  Astat 
all  the  agencies  primarily  emf 
the  propagation  of  the  gos 
Asiatics.  Why  should  I,  i 
ashamed  to  acknowledge  tbiil 
ality  which  he  acknowledge* 
1  \i<^t  tather  say,  he  is  mare 


ITie  Brahmo  Same^. 


683 


ataH  nalufe, 
OmaUl  habtU  of 
I  feefisgf  And  is  it  sot 
m  Asiatic  can  read  the 
Hd  Albgmes  of  the  ^oe- 
»  dMGiiptiaiifl  of  natural 
I  and  manners,  with 
and  a  fuller  pen^ep- 
r  &iQe  and  beauty,  than 
•  •  • 

Pe%  therefore,  Christ  ii 
ig-  .  .  . 
Its  great  fact  is  pon- 
I  hope,  will  he  the 
ir  hatred  of  European 
gainst  Orienta]  national]* 
^sreater  the  interest  of 
^Bl  the  teachings  of 
PBios  in  Chriiit^  Europe 
I  East  and  the  W«^t,  may 
liarmoojr  and  unity." 
^nder  Sen  addressed  bis 
mmm  in  1S66;  and  when, 
lar,  be  spoke  to  the  Eng- 
who  eame  around  him, 
f  aeet,  he  preached  the 
m  language  only  a  little 

you  will  ask  me^'^  he 
%l  lA  the  attitude  you  as- 
a  Cbrktiani  ty,  —  towards 
^^OQ  aooord  an  affectionate 
f  welcome  to  the  mission- 
\mtf  or  do  you  look  upon 
^ings  of  abhorrence  and 
f  for  one,  mu^t  &ay  that  it 

jbratrue  theist,  wheth- 
'  Bitnipean,  to  cheridh  in 
•liaga  of  antipathy  or 
Christ  or  hi;^  disci- 


ii  Itterally  impossihle. 
ibmsanda  in  India,  I 
B|y  of  them  I  numher 
Im  friends,  who  do  not 
I  aee  Cfari$t  preached  to 
ms  of  India. 
lity  has  come  to  India  in 
I  TCtpakiTe  form.     Chm- 


tianity  in  its  Founder,  in  its  earlioil 
traditions,  in  its  earliest  lahorers,  w«e 
Oriental,  Asiatic ;  and  there  b  no  rea- 
soa  why  ChrisUanity  should,  in  the 
preeent  day,  be  pressnted  to  the  In- 
diaii  popalatioa  in  any  other  than  an 
Orie&tei  and  Astatic  aspect  Leare 
us  to  ourselres,  and  let  us  study  the 
Bible.  Do  we  not  fiod  there  imageries 
and  precepts  of  an  Ajsiatic  and  Orien- 
tal stamp  ? .  .  .  Bo  we  not  feel  that 
the  spirit  of  Christianity  comes  to  us 
as  something  very  natural,  congenial 
to  our  hearts ;  something  with  which, 
t^y  the  peculiar  cxMKstitutum  of  an  In- 
dian mind,  we  are  bound  to  sympa- 
thize ?  The  true  spirit  of  Christiani- 
ty shall  be  accepted  by  all  lodta. 
There  are  thousands  among  my  conn- 
tiymen  who  deny  that ;  but  I,  for  one, 
so  long  as  I  live^  shall  continue  to 
say  that  the  real  spirit  of  Christ,  In- 
dia will  ooe  day  receive. 

''  But  I  cannot  say  the  same  thing 
in  regard  to  the  doctrines  and  dog- 
mas which  you  have  presented  to  In- 
dia. There  are  so  many  churches 
into  which  Christianity  has  been  di- 
vided; there  are  so  many  different 
kinds  of  doctrines  and  ceremonies 
and  rituals  prescribed  and  followed 
by  different  religious  denominations 
who  call  themselves  Christians,  —  that 
India  is  really  confounded  and  per- 
plexed when  she  is  a^ked  to  solve 
the  great  problem,  Which  of  these 
id  to  be  accepted '/  which  is  the  true 
one?"  .  ,  . 

**  Each  sect  comes  at  a  time  to  the 
Indian  inquirer,  and  exhibits  its  own 
doctrines  and  dogmas.  For  the  time 
being,  these  doctrines  and  dogmas 
engage  the  attention  and  interest  of 
the  Hindoo,  and  perhaps  he  is  par- 
t tally  satisfied. 

"  But  then  comes  the  missionary  of 
another  church,  and  hi^s  mind  gets 
onsettled;    and  tbua,  aa  \h% 


Christ  TheQ  it  is  that,  though  we 
Imlrana  Itave  not  heeu  able  to  accept 
any  particular  form  of  Christianity, 
yet  we  are  flteadfast  in  our  attach- 
ment to  Jesua  Christ,  whom  you  so 
mndi  respect  and  reverence*" 

Who  could  ai*k  for  fuller  testimony 
than  this  to  thc3  Christian  sympathies 
of  Chunder  Sen?  Who  of  U8  cOiild 
ask  for  a  diflerent  hasis  of  fellowship 
than  he  accepts,  when  he  appeals  from 
the  errors  of  the  &ects  to  the  power 
of  Jesus  J  in  the  spirit  of  his  life, 
and  the  moral  truth  of  his  precepts  ? 
It  is  not  Christ,  which  the  enlight- 
ened Hindoo  rejects,  hut  sectarian 
and  dogmatic  Christianity,  So  do 
we.     So  do  all  liberal  Christians, 

*^  Create  not  sects  in  thr^  name  of 
Jesus,  but  destroy  them  in  his  name," 
cries  Sen,     So  say  we. 

And  if,  in  addition  to  sectarian  as- 
sumption* and  the  tyranny  of  the 
traditional  creeds,  there  were  added 
the  cruelty  and  inhumanity  which 
have  been  associated  in  the  experi- 
ence of  India  with  a  people  called  by 


Christian  is  not 
name  to  the  U 
the  difficulties  tl 
trines  aa  taught 
teachers? 

Is  it  not  a  woi 
ry,  that  a  peopl^ 
nominal  Christiai 
all  the  religious 
of  Christianity?, 
cept  Christ,  mmi 
in  spite  of  his  inl 
sequence  of  theini 

If  India    ia 
agency  first  in 
conversion,  will  i 
school   and    the 
education  leaves 
atry ;  and  the  i 
Btroying  caste,  h 
travel  and  the  c€ 
ance.     But  it   C4I 
considered,  that  tl 
need    something 
from  their  mont 
thingmore  than  t 


The  Br^kmm 


i^r,  of  this  aoeietjf  m  fair 
S  of    dtis    ekumetei^ 
K^sed  of  tlie  BnkvM 
ler  tliirig  eooU  «»  Av 

Uiis  •ociety  as  &• 
^vuch  of  Clui^  ia 

aU  our  itreoftli  ialo  tUi 
?    Itsomljcfeed,— Om 
u  emphatically  Unilaiiaa; 
ireDce^   tlie  Bpbit  ef  J«aa% 

ktter  of  bu 

with   oar 

il  inteTptctitiDa  oT  Am  Qoa* 

aim^  Dot  lo  ffifaMwIt  a  000% 

jrenal  diareli,  wliitiMr  aiea 

e    from  ea«k,  wot,  iMidiy 

1^  — ^eurely,  tbai  »  oar  aim. 

ireheiisiTe  eoauaaad» — Wre 

md  Urre  of  man^  —  it 

maldiig  thb  Um 

'  and  an  propbecy.     '^Tlua 

too  sliall  Ijve,*^  it  eaysy  witb 

nd  we  hare  no  warrant  to  add 

fofficieat  tale  of  life.  In 
paxne^  tlie  Befiyrm^d  Cliititli 
the  Brahnio  Socaajf  as  Sen 
it,  woold  be  one  with  pritni- 
itiazutji  and  one  with  the 
»  espotiae.  We  oooM  afford 
ibasiae  the  oame,  for  a  time, 
I  Ihm  thiog!  at  leasts  ontU 
people  eooM  do  something 
the  name  clean  in  heathen 
^   oaght   to    be   willing  to 

ab«}rance< 
efbte  we  can  make  common 
}s  the  Br«ihmos,  we  must  be 

thejr  are  truly  represented 
»m1  Sen,  We  most  be  sore 
tiat  in  m  houored  in  this 
',  that  hb  pore  religion  will 
lay  with  them,  and  be  estab* 
their  religion.  As  yet,  the 
of  tim  »  only  partial, 

mfonned  that  the  English 

I    eoDlribated,    last    yearp 


Wo  ihall  aot  ail   afM   id    diii 
wSk  appiopt^  and  flona 
I  aU  oaglit   la 
Ik  dmacter  «r  tiia  Btabsa 

they  dedde.    I    bava  giTaa 
•f  ita 


Boy,  Mid  ita 
Cfcaa4er  Saa,  and  tk  ptiodplea  whieh 
adnata  li>eai.    Ibero  eaaaot  be  two 

opiniona  aiaong  Libera]  Chnstiaaa  ai 
to  tka  iWMnliri  Ouvtiaiuty  of  ihoM 
two  laeiv  and  tha  pia^  and  gmndovr 
of  their  lnopea  and  aima.  Bui  the 
socaetj  they  lead  haa  two  aidea,  as  wa 
ba?a  aaao.  There  are  avowed  oppo> 
nentB  to  Christtantty  in  it,  as  well  aa 
devoted  frieodai  like  Roy  and  Sen. 
It  ia^  tbeiafine^  a  mixed  body.  Oar 
missionaiy  haa  joined  ihetn  with  the 
avowed  purpose  of  commending  Lib- 
eral Christianity  to  the^  ednealad 
Hindoos.  He  has  not  renoonoed 
Christianity,  in  becoming  a  Brahmo. 
He  has  simply  united  with  people  on 
the  gioiind  of  a  common  belief  in 
one  Gody  and  a  common  dcaire  to 
reform  the  idolatry  and  social  injus- 
tice which  prevail  in  India.  He  has 
done  no  more^  in  joining  the  Brahmo 
Somaj,  than  Unitarian  ministers  have 
done  with  impunity  at  homo^  in 
joining  the  Free  Religious  Aaaoda- 
tion.  Indeed,  th«  lodiau  society  is 
the  more  Christian  of  the  two.  For 
the    American    Som«|    iidmitt    all 


path  J  ?  it  18  on  the  road  to  fipin'tufi! 
Christianity;  while  the  Free  Keli- 
gioua  Asf^ociation  is  on  the  road 
away  from  it  The  Indian  move- 
ment is  a  reform  of  polytheism  and 
idohitry,  and  so  far  favorable  to 
Christ,  The  Free  Religious  move- 
ment, if  we  may  accept  "The  Index" 
as  its  opponent,  in  rapidly  becoming 
a  revolt  against  Christianity.  The 
bo^is  of  the  Free  Religious  Associa- 
tion is  freedom  to  believe  any  thing 
that  eeeras  true  to  the  individual. 
The  bus  is  of  the  Bralimo  Soraaj  is 
belief  in  one  God*  You  enter  the 
hitter  by  signing  this  brief  creed : 
**I  ilo  hereby  own  my  faith  in  theism, 
and  become  a  member  of  the  Brahmo 
Somiij  of  India."  You  enter  the  for- 
mer by  the  payment  of  a  dollar.  The 
Indian  society  agrees  with  us  in  be* 
lieviug  that  there  must  be  some- 
thing more  than  freedom,  to  empower 
a  religion  which  is  to  tabernacle  all 
mankind  in  its  sacred  edifice.  We 
go  with  Brahmoism  so  far:  but  we 
go  farther;  for,  although  theism 
stands  for  the  foundation  truth  of  re- 
ligion, ^ —  the  belief    in  God, — thewg 


ligfit  of  tfwir  ftonll 
ty,  with  its  warrid 
himself,  the 
desire  of  theiFi 
lieve^  that  onlj 
soul  in  the 
will  that  spi: 
towards  all  men 
towards  God 
stance  of  tl 
thori3ughly  lear 

Already  the  me  J 
off  Christ's  yoke] 
pride  of  part| 
sympathy  wlill 
of  a  universal 
ter.  The  Somaj^ 
loyal  attachment  i 
be  any  more  succd 
tian  churches 
mechanism  to 
will  succeed 
souls  which 
himself,  and  n€ 
ing  spirit  which 
with  divine  life  1 
will  be  filled  with! 
truth.     They  shall 


men 


Our  Pilgrimagi*^  ,^ 


QUE  PILGRBIAG 


Isti   the   day   came   when  we 
9e4  out  ou  oar  own  private  pil- 
We  were  to  b«gin  a  five- 
;OT3nie/ on  horseback,  to  Hebron, 
Sea^  aod  J^encho ;  spending 
in   tents,  and   leaiUng  a 
life.     A  mosit  dclightfol 
to  look  upon;  and  one  tliat 
erery-dajr  travel  on  tail- 
very  tame, 
aeeo  several  parties  of  our 
mtsat  Q%    departing   through 
str«eti|  and  out  into  the 
narroir,  acioas  the  hilh ;  and 
turn  came. 

Died  my  horse,  from  the  eteps 
with  some  misgiving,  for 
first  time  I  had  tried  an 
il ;  and  my  worst  fears  were 
vbeiif  after  taking  my  seat  in 
and  lifting  the  reins,  my 
gan  to  prance  and  curvet,  and 
bis  hind*leg3  in  true  circus 
ftt  last  was  rushing  madly 
me,  when  Hassan  came  to 
Hassan  in  English,  and 
in  elegant  Arabic,  then 
that  I  was  to  have  nothing 
with  the  bridle,  unless  I  wished 
\  gallop,  but  I  must  let  it  lie 
pommel  of  the  saddle.  For 
b  Amb  bit  is  a  cruel  instrument, 
K  ill*  tflightest  touch  upon  it  cuts 
B  nwutlk  of  the  beast,  and  excites 
mti  90  lliat  when  an  Arab  wish^  to 
wit  off  the  speed  of  his  horse^  he  has 
iH  upon  thS  bridle. 
IS  an  old  story  of  the  days 
1  C<Bur  de  Lion,  that  Sala- 
'esent  of  a  magnifi- 
.;er.  The  story  says 
Kichaiti  waa  su^Sciently  cautious 


iWith 


to  order  one  of  his  knights  to  mount 
the  charger  ^r^t  The  beast  no  sooner 
found  a  stranger  on  his  back^  than  he 
took  the  bit  between  bis  teeth,  and, 
refusing  all  control,  galloped  back  to 
his  own  quarters,  carrying  the  Chris- 
tian knight  into  the  midst  of  Saladin*s 
camp.  If  King  Richard  had  been  so 
indiscreet  as  to  have  mounted  the 
charger,  he  would  have  been  in  the 
same  way  at  the  mercy  of  the  Sara^ 
cens. 

Kow,  probably  the  Arab  steed  of 
those  days  was  punished  with  this 
same  murderous  bit.  The  story  goes 
ou  to  say,  that  Saladin  was  so  ashamed 
of  the  misbehavior  of  his  present,  that 
he  could  scarcely  look  up  while  he 
apologized  to  the  knight ;  but  he  may 
have  been  aa  much  amused  at  the 
want  of  horsemanship  displayed  by  the 
Frank  knight,  as  are  the  Arabs  of  the 
preBent  day,  when  they  see  the  mild, 
inoffensive  traveller,  rushing  wildly 
aeroas  the  desert  on  his  cxaf^perated 
steed,  goading  him  on  by  the  very 
method  he  takes  to  hold  him  in. 

It  is  strange  enough,  in  reading 
over  the  old  accounts  of  travellers, 
from  the  Bible  down  through  the 
Crusades  and  Sir  John  Mandeville, 
to  see  how  tilings  have  remained  tlte 
same  in  the  East.  And  as  we  left  the 
gates  of  Damascus,  we  might  strag- 
gle along  like  a  caravan  of  the  olden 
time, — ^like  Abraham  from  Chaldtea, 
or  Lot  and  his  wife  before  she  looked 
back. 

My  beast  never  pranced  again.  In- 
deed, he  proved  a  dear  old  poke,  with 
the  most  comfortable  slow  pace  imagin- 
able. Hassan  always  declared  that 
he  had  a  gallop,  but  I  never  tried  it ; 
and  was  usually  in  the  rear  of  the 
party,  with  Hassan  ptoddin^  me  on* 


688 


Our  Pilgrimage. 


It  was  a  clear,  cool  afternoon,  as 
we  went  out  of  the  Damascus  gate, 
some  clou  da  blowing  away  that  had 
alarmed  ua  a  little.  In  true  caravan 
file,  we  took  our  way  over  hill,  and 
down  through  dale,  on  and  on,  for 
four  hours.  We  saw  distant 
Bethlehem,  and  we  passed  the  torab 
of  Rachel,  and  the  grass  waa  gay 
with  the  bright  Syrian  flowers.  Our 
path,  a  part  of  tlie  way,  wag  in  the 
stony,  dry  bed  of  a  bruok.  My  dear 
old  horse  put  his  nose  dofwn  to  hk 
hoofs^  to  pick  his  way  among  the 
rolling  stones.  I  gradually  gained 
more  confidence  in  him;  his  step  waa 
very  sure  ;  there  was  no  danger  of  his 
suddenly  rushing  off  in  a  wild  flight; 
and  the  saddle  proved  unexpectedly 
ea#iy.  We  gradually  became  ac- 
quainted with  our  guides,  one  the 
muleteer  par  exceUenref  because  he 
had  the  sleeves  of  his  coat  hanging, 
armless,  down  his  back.  One  a  real 
wild  Bedouin,  witlj  his  head-dress 
tied  on  by  a  rope,  with  ends  flying, 
in  heavy  brown  and  white  striped 
blankets,  and  a  long  robe  underneath 
of  Damascus  silk,  and  a  musket  slung 
over  his  back,  a  sword  bound  ai>out 
him,  and  any  amount  of  fire-arms, 
that  looked  as  if  they  were  made  in 
the  earliest  days,  and  one  or  two 
poniards  stuck  in  his  belt.  He  made 
wonderful  gambados  on  his  wild  Arab 
steed,  coursing  on  in  front  of  us, 
then  comijig  up  behind  ;  and  in  time 
we  became  quite  intimate  with  him. 

In  short,  we  had  quite  a  pictur- 
esque effect,  wandering  up  and  down 
the  hills,  one  behind  the  other*  Has- 
san in  his  turban,  and  our  Bedouin 
careering  about  us ;  the  sun  got  down 
more  toward  the  west  j  the  sky  grew 
more  clear.  We  wrapped  our  shawls 
more  and  more  closely,  and  I  was 
wondering  how  much  farther  we  were 
[to  travel^  when  wq  tetuc^odL  tV^  \ai^ 


of  a  hill,  and  looked 
lovely  view,  —  the  Pools  a 
three  basins  of  water,  Jyil 
yond  tljo  other,  atdifiTerent 
between  us  and  the  poo] 
square,  turreted  stone  buH 
we  were  t:>ld  we  were  to  t 
night  j  but  it  waa  not  tilli 
the  comer  of  the  large  .1 
we  caught  the  cheerful  aj 
camp  lying  between  th0  bl 
the  pools.  What  a  jiwtj 
was  I  How  welcome  loolrai 
tents,  and  home-like,  with; 
con  flag  flying  111  front  I 
was  a  busy  air  of  dinner^  I 
promise  to  it  all.  We  m 
we  got  from  our  boisos,  | 
brisk  walk  in  the  cool  Mi^i 
der  of  the  pools,  to  wann 
up,  while  the  preparationsi 
were  going  on.  And  very  g 
this  repast,  and  enc^uragj 
the  first  test  of  our  cook.  < 
all  the  different  course-s  gf, 
French  hotel ;  Itis  mea^^H 
varitHl,  however.  We  bflH 
boiled  mutton,  roast  lamii 
lets,  chicken,  pudding>, 
fruit,  oranges,  preserved 
even  nuts,  all  through  ova 
brought  on  in  the  due  OQ 
the  cordial  of  delicious  coi 

And  this  first  night 
warmed  and  refreshed  byi 
went  to  our  tents  for  rest 
S.  and  I  found  our  tent  f\it^ 
two  iron  bedsteads,  aod 
This  was  our  only  cold  nig: 
pijy  there  were  plenty  of  b 
**  comforters."  The  Vumit 
consisted  of  a  table, 
basin,  and  what  Vo  call 
skin  of  water. 

The  skitis  that  we 
water  in  look,  when  they 
much  like  a  veritable  pig 
^^  isVlmtci  tUe  habit  of  < 


690 


Otir  PUgrimage. 


my  horse,  using  botb  Doee  and  feet^ 
got  me  down  safely.  We  passed  along 
by  a  §eriea  of  vine-gardens,  stiut  in  by 
stone-walls,  with  a  high  tower  in  the 
corner  of  eacli»  wliich  recalled  vividly 
the  parable  beginning*  **  A  certain 
man  planted  a  vineyard,  and  set  an 
hedge  about  it,  and  digged  a  place  for 
the  wine-fat,  and  built  a  tower,  and 
let  it  out  to  husbandmen/* 

We  went  on,  in  among  these  vine- 
yards, seeing  the  oaks  in  the  distance, 
but  winding  up  through  the  rocky 
bed  of  a  stream,  and  seeming  never  to 
get  any  nearer  them.  At  last  we 
reached  them,  and  were  glad  to 
reet  under  the  shade.  They  are  large 
trees,  and  the  more  remarkable,  as 
th^  ■country  about  is  quite  barren  of 
trees ;  and  these,  witfi  their  contorted 
branches,  look  aged  indeed.  The 
leaves  of  these  great  trees  are  very 
small,  fibapetl  and  pointed  like  that  of 
the  holly,  and  polished ;  for  this  is  not 
the  true  oak,  but  the  Ilex  qitercus. 
One  of  them  looked  old  enough  to 
have  sheltered  Abraham,  and  we  could 
easily  imagine  him  here.  We  went 
back  again  by  the  hedged-ln  vineyards* 
The  place  is  still  called  Eshcol,  recall- 
ing tlie  large  grapes  picked  by  Caleb 
and  Joshua,  as  they  are  pictured  in 
old  Bibles, 

We  were  tired  indeed  by  this  time, 
and  picked  our  way  along  over  an 
uneven  stone  pavement,  supposed  to 
be  the  remains  of  a  Roman  road,  into 
Hebron.  Here  was  the  grateful  sight 
of  otir  camp,  on  a  slope  facing  the 
town,  which  made  quite  an  appear- 
ance j  housirfs  built  of  stone,  closely 
placed  one  above  another  opposite  us, 
80 me  of  the  party  went  to  see  the 
old  mosque,  that  stands  ab*ive  the 
caves  of  Machpelah,  the  hurial-pla<!e 
of  the  patriarchs-  But  the  Moliam- 
medana  permit  no  one  to  enter  the 
mosque;    the  Vtuice  ol  '^«X't%   w^^ 


hts    party   having 

exception    in    later  y 
they  were  not  permitted  to 
to  the  tombs  tbem?elve«. 
We  had  the  cbis^riul 
some  other  camps 
and    saw     the  ^ 

mounted  on  eameky  bon 
desert.  Before  starting 
morning,  we  talked  with  ti 
eliers,  who  had  been  to  Vi 
three- weeks*  journey.  On 
ladies  told  me  she  had  bc^i 
work,  read,  and  wriU*,  ou  cIm 
her  dromedary.  But  it  abi 
to  me  as  if  it  would  take  a 
prentice«hip>  and  a  steady 
bear  the  aee-saw,  sea-ticii 
And  I  observed  that  this  j 
to  wait  a  day,  for  hor*e«i  N 
to  them  from  J«  ? 
they  had  had  enough  j^ 

and  preferred  the  horse, 
been  disturbed  by  Bedoulrt 
travels   too;    for   this   scaa 
had  been  some  truubl<et  witb 
tile  tribes,      UsuiUly  the 
leads  such  a  party  through 
promises^  on   the   receipt 
bakshish^  to  defend  his  | 
robbers.     But  this  year  the 
suddenly  found  they  wew 
to  pay  more  bakshiah   to 
pleasant-looking    robberi, 
only   threatenf*d     them    nt 
things,  but  began   by  st«t 
eggsif  chickens,  &c,     JJqw, 
tiresome  position   to  a  A 
paier-famillas*    The   taif< 
help   suspe<!tiDg    the   wort 
who    serves   as   hia  guide, 
accomplice   of    the    so-calli 
tribe :  but  it  is  not  agriieab 
one's  eggs  and  • !     V       >tgl 
a  man  haa  his 
with  him,  tlni   datiger 
unpleasant^  and  hv  p 


^»fl 


Our  Pilgrimage. 


691 


J,  too,  of  hostile  tribes  on 

^«iia  of  the  Dead  Sea,  who 

|p^  80111^  tzotihle  this  year ; 

I   at  our  Bedouin,  and 

I  it  he  h^d  so  QiaDr  tire- 

formidable  poniards  &boat 

wen*  off  by  eight:  an  Eoglifth 

IVom    the     Pi^tra     party 

'  along  with  us  oq  foot,  od  his 

Bethkdiem.     We  left  him  be- 

I  bat^  as  we  rested  at  qood,  he 

up  with  tt%  and  accepted  oar 

in   to  lunch.     We  were   in  a 

ly    »pot}   in   the   shade   of  some 

luid  liad  a  ple&saut  talk  and 

S.    painting    a    daisy   and    a 

of    Bethli  bena/'  just  aa   they 

m  the  grass  at  the  foot  of  the 

We  reached  BethK  hem  early 

afternoon. 

lid  already,  that  liie  sight  of 

L  has  given  a  reality  to   its 

:ing  it  for  me  no  longer  a 

L  -,    .1.  lt«  appearance  is,  however, 

Lij^hly  Eastern.     We  had   been 

*here  were  many  Christians 

^,  and  that  it  was   more 

any  town  in  Palestine, 

, „  .lea  it  would  look  more 

Uouitn  But  here,  again,  were  the 
p,  nurrow  streets  of  the  Eastern 
wirh  the  blank  walls  of  its 
■  of  «torie,  with  only  here  and 
L  tt:  lattice  upon  the  street,  which 
»p  that  I  needed  the  mule- 
'  is  I  was  afraid 

fiis    neck.     At 
oC     the     doorways     appeared 
of    women,   Eastern -looking, 
idsome  faces^  half  hidden  in 
An  mantle.    We  parsed 
Church  of  the  Nativ- 
>ad  square  upon  which 

,  -iug  to  go   first  to  our 

But  finding  it  at  some  dis- 
Ifrd  our  hor^Aes,  and  turned 
entmace  to  the  church  ^ 


passing  up  through  a  graveyard  into 
a  paired  court,  upon  which  opened  a 
picturesque  stone  fayatle,  yellow  hys- 
sop growing  in.  the  creirices  of  the 
stones, 

A  handsome  friar,  in  light-hrown 
frock  and  hood^  met  us  at  the  door^ 
and  led  us  into  the  refectory.  We 
foaud  we  had  chanced  ujkih  the  Latin 
entrance;  for  underneath  the  wide 
roof  are  clustered  Latin,  Greek,  and 
Armenian  churches. 

The  refectory  was  a  large,  low 
room,  with  deep  embrasured  winilows, 
carpeted  and  cushioned.  Here  it 
was  grateful  to  rest,  waiting  some 
promised  coffee,  looking  at  the  pic- 
tures of  saints  against  the  wall. 

After  our  refreiihing  coffee,  our 
picturesque  monk  took  us  along  the 
stone-pave  men  ted  passages,  —  where 
we  met  a  throng  of  school  children, 
—  into  the  Latin  church,  which  dif- 
fered not  much  from  other  Catholic 
churches.  There  were  chapels,  some 
tawdry  in  ornament,  some  impressive ; 
one  dedicated  to,  or  by,  Maximilian. 
From  here  we  went  down  a  stoue 
stairway,  and  passed  into  a  series  of 
caves^ —  the  stone  caves  above  wkich 
the  Empress  Helena  selected  to  build 
her  church. 

One  of  these  vras,  for  a  time,  the 
dwelling-place  of  St.  Jerome,  a  real 
hermit  "  Here  was  where  he  readi 
here  whera  he  slept,'*  our  guide  told 
us.  We  had  a  glimpse  of  the  old 
ascetic  life,  and  tried  to  comprehend 
it.  In  another  cave,  was  kneeling 
an  old  monk,  his  face  hidden  in  his 
hands.  They  told  us  he  had  been 
in  this  posture  for  weeks  and  months. 
So,  here  was  one  in  our  day,  living 
over  again  this  old  ascetic  life.  Or 
can  it  be  called  living?  I  have  often 
thought  of  this  old  monk  since.  Is 
he  still  kneeling  there  now,  or  in 
some  other  sphere  &\3^   aXTv<\Ti%^ 


692 


Our  Pilgrimage. 


real  fie  a  lieaven  yet  far  away  ?    Was 

there  no  other  way  to  save  his  own 
soul  ?  Was  the  heavenly  vision  that 
came  to  him  in  those  long  houxs 
more  refreshing  to  hU  soul  than 
would  have  been  sunrise  and  sunset, 
and  all  the  gayly-lighted  hours  of 
the  world  without,  with  Eowers  and 
breezes  and  human  voices,  and  the 
sympathy  of  friends?  When  one 
stops  to  compare  all  these  rich  in- 
Auences  with  the  long  contemplations 
of  a  solitary  life,  one  cannot  wonder 
that  the  Devil  found  his  way  into  tlio 
solitude  of  cells.  But,  for  this  monk, 
let  us  not  judge  him.  We  look,  and 
pass  on. 

I  have  already  spoken  of  the  feel- 
ings with  which  the  *"  Grotto  of  the 
Kativity ''  impressed  me.  Above, 
in  the  showy  adornments  of  the 
churchy  there  had  been  nothing  espe- 
cially striking.  But  here  the  rudely- 
carved  rock  told  its  own  age.  Such 
caves  are  still* usetl  in  Syria  for  shel- 
ter by  travellers,  or  for  their  cattle. 
In  this  place  Mary  and  her  child 
may  have  been  sheltered,  "  because 
there  was  no  room  in  tlie  inn."  And 
there  comes  a  thrill  that  gives  a 
reality  to  this  "  may  have  been."  It 
was  a  small  grotto,  lighted  by  a  few 
lamps.  On  the  marble  pavement 
was  a  star  in  mosaic,  and  the  inscrip> 
tion,  **  Hw  natus  est  Christtu" 

We  went  up  the  stairway  into  the 
Greek  church,  where  services  were 
going  on,  and  the  congregation  stand- 
ing. We  saw,  afterwards,  the  re- 
mains of  the  original  church  of  the 
Empress  Helena,  which  stands  yet, 
its  columns  retaining  some  of  their 
brilliant  original  color.  Oar  hand- 
some Latio  friar  parted  from  us ;  and 
we  with  difficulty  got  rid  of  a  crowd 


mng,  w€| 
ard  9oa| 


of  guides,  who  would  fain  \t 
the  way  tt>  our  camp,  clamon 
bakshish. 

We  reached  our  little  cloi 
tents,  with  the  American  dsg  ^ 
in  &onty  so  like  Iiomo,  and  will 
association,  so  different  from 
thing  about 

It  was  a  clear,  ukx^dI  ?li* 
and    the    rugged    nioui/ 
David    had  watched  wit 
surrounded  us  j  and  tn  ri.     i 
slope  we  thought  of  the  cave^ 
wax  tapers  burning  all  night 

It   was   a   quiet    night;   oi 
motions  of  our  horses  and  tn 
of   their  dxivera    talking  wit 
other*     Yet,  in   listening,  w€ 
have   fancied   we  heard  9oi 
wondrous  words  once 
rocks  and  hills  about  n 
David  should  let  them 
the  strength  of  his  Grod,  e 
"Be   Thou   my  strong   too 
house  of  defence,  to  save  me 
thou  art  my  rock  and  my 
*'Unto  theo  will  I  cry,  0 
rock!"     For  here   the  ilo 
Bethlehem  is  girt  m  with 
hills,  that  aeem,  indeed,  li 
tains  of  defence. 

The  next  morning  S.  fouj 
entrance  of  the  tent,  two  I 
upon  a  blade  of  grass.  She; 
before  it  with  her  water-cn 
had  painted  a  picture  of 
the  butterflies  flew  awa 
little  lives  of  one  day  are 
with  the  old  eternal  story, 
eternal  in  memory,  —  two  b 
brown  and  gold,  bom  in 
made  sacred  by  Hebrew 
and  poets,  which  bears  its  i 
in  our  hearts :  — 


1 


Churning, 


693 


CHURNINa 

BY  HACKETT  STEVEK30K, 


mmke  George  cbum.    I  have 

aod  it's  his  turn  now." 

ords  eaoie  to  me  through  the 

ndow  of  a  prairie  farm-house, 

was  taking  a  STunmer  rest. 

[  oat,  and  saw  Herhert  stand- 

haick  porch,  wearilj  moving 

tT ;  while  George  was  ttiraing 

Its    upon    the    grass.      The 

ther  came  ;  the  chiiming  went 

ie  I  went  back  to  my  child- 

I  Again  I  stood  on  the  old  stone 

;  tlie  back  door,  churning  with 

ber  Charley ;    there,  in    the 

the  early  rooming,  before  the 

OTer  the   roof,    while   the 

(sang  and  ate  their  breakfast 

aexry-tpees  that  stood  in  row 

ba    garden   fence.      How  we 

;  we  were  robins,  or  any  thing 

coald  not  chnm  1     If  only 

»cows!  or  if  butter  would 

on  bnshesy  like  the  hazel- 

Olten  would  the  dasher  stand 

le  we'  chased   butterflies,  or 

ancient  trick  of  catching 

patting  salt  on  their  tails. 

delays  were  any  thing  but 

ft  tli0  eomin  g  butter.     To  bri  n  g 

i    to   e^^periments   that 

ne  credit  to   the  brain 

alchemist;    hot    water,    cold 

I  salt,  and  one  day  we  tried  a 

hoe,  —  an  old  woman  told   us 

would  drive  away  witches. 

I ODO  churned,  the  other  would 

,  liddles,  &c  ^^sop,  Mother 

btan  Kights,  and  Robinson 

twifre  the  »ourc4?s  whence  came 

[►intion.     Unfortunately,  I  was 

Yankee,  —  never  could  guess 

I  One  clay  Charley  proposed  a 

like  this :  "  Big  at  the  iHjttom. 

st  the  top ;  something  in 


the  middle  goes  whippity-whop/'  I 
churned  away  with  all  my  might,  a 
little  excited  by  the  prospect  of  a  fail- 
ure, while  my  eyes  wandered  over  earth 
and  sky  for  an  answer.  ^'  Give  it 
np?"  said  Charley;  **give  it  up?'* 
It  was  no  use,  the  thick  feeling  in  my 
head  kept  getting  thicker.  While  my 
reluctant  **  Yes,*'  was  Bndingutterance, 
the  little  rogue  pointed  in  a  knowing 
way  at  the  old  chum.  Sure  enough,  it 
was  bigger  at  the  bottom  than  it  waa 
at  the  top ;  and  the  something  in  the 
middle,  —  that  must  be  the  dasher. 
So  I  gave  it  another  prt^longed  move, 
and  surely  it  did  say  whip  pity- whop. 
**  That's  ea«y :  why  didn't  I  think  of 
it  ?  '*  My  head  was  quite  clear  again. 
So  we  whiled  away  the  chuming-time, 
always  hailing  with  delight  the  first 
few  crumbs  of  butter  that  dared  to 
come  up  and  stand  on  the  lid  in  a  cir* 
cle.  When  at  last  they  were  all  gath- 
ered into  hard  yellow  lumps,  with 
great  relief  we  untied  our  big  check 
apron  St  and  ran  to  the  well  to  get  water 
for  mother  to  work  the  butter.  That 
well  I  that  water !  that  bucket !  Many 
times  since  have  I  thought  it  must 
have  been  our  bucket  that  inspired 
Wood  worth  to  sing, — 

*"Tba    old    oaken   bucket^  Ibe   ironbooiid 
bucket, 
Tbe  moi^oDvered  bucket,  that  btttig  m  the 
weU." 

And  for  a  drink  of  that  water  I  have 
often  had  the  longing  of  David,  when, 
looking  toward  the  home  of  his  ances- 
tors, he  said,  "  Oh  that  one  would  give 
me  drink  of  the  water  of  the  well  of 
Bethlehem,  that  is  at  the  gate  I  '*  But 
neither  dreams  nor  childhood  lat^t ;  one 
breath  of  incense,  one  moment  of 
blias,  one  touc\v  ot  «k  \ife2k\iXSivA  \i^ai\ 


694 


Churning. 


and  we  are  gray.  I  could  not  stay 
long  wrapped  in  the  beautiful  stillness 
of  those  olden  summer  mornings.  As 
the  sun  would  come  over  the  roof 
every  day,  scattering  the  dew  and  the 
shade  of  the  morning,  so  time  has  rolled 
on,  carrying  me  farther  and  farther 
away  from  the  gray  stone  steps,  the 
trees  full  of  robins,  and  the  well  of 
pure  water;  made  Charley  a  man,  and 
given  sleep  to  God's  belovecL  Kor 
again  shall  I  sit  at  that  window,  and 
dream  of  the  past.  George  and  Her- 
bert are  boys  no  longer,  and  their 
blessed  mother  rests.  But  the  churn- 
ing never  ceiises,  J  u st  w h  ere  on  e  grows 
weary  and  lets  the  dasher  fall,  another 
takes  it  up.  As  for  mother  Nature, 
she  does  nothing  but  chum.  The 
•^new  theory  of  the  universe  "  people 
call  "  cosniicai  vapor  ^^  ia  simply  cosmi- 
cal  milk.  To  this  statement  the  very 
crime  de  la  crems  of  the  Milky-way 
send  me  down  a  twinkling  **  Yes." 
Nature  at  her  churiMng  is  a«  good  a 
definition  of  the  universe  as  one  can 
iind ;  but  when  the  old  dame  is  ques- 
tioned as  to  where  the  endless  supply 
of  milk  comes  from,  she  shakes  her 
bald  head,  and  answers,  '*  There's  the 
rub." 

In  vain  we  question  her.  She  will 
never  answer,  for  the  very  best  of  rea- 
sons, —  she  does  not  know.  All  she 
knows  ia  jtist  to  chuni»  churn  forever. 
We  have  been  told  aljout  the  source  of 
Nature's  supply ;  but  we  do  not  believe, 
and  would  not  though  an  angel  should 
come,  and  Nature  herself  should  open 
her  dumb  mouth  in  confirmation  of 
the  story.  So  it  is  better  t4>  let  whence 
it  came  alone»  and  look  a  while  at  what 
it  is,  and  what  it  is  doing.  If  we 
accept  the  lactean  theory,  cosmology 
becomes  a  very  simple  study ;  astron- 
omy, botany,  chemistr}%  geology,  and 
all  the  rest,  only  so  many  different 
movements  of  tbe  da&Wt%\  ^\M\^^Vi 


music  of  the  spber^s 
the  *'  whop  "  of  the  das' 
for  the  first  principles. 
application. 

The  churn  that  most  a 
the  one  in  and  on  which  ^ 
ing  of  the  feminine  gend< 
uncertain  ;  but  the  presum] 
is  rather  old.     Mo$es,  witi 
that  seems   to  have  antii 
difficulty,  dates  her  birth  I 
beginning.       Some    who 
against  both  ancient  and 
varication,  declare  she  is  on 
sand  years  old ;    others,  j 
her  wrinkled  and  weather- 
and  prominent   bunes,  thi 
past  computation  :  but  I 
thinking,  with  Mo^e^,  ths 
madein  the  beginning.     Bi 
neither  nature  nor  revelati 
us.     And  well  for  man  if  c 
out  and  understands  all  th* 
by  this  old  chum  since  tbs 
finislied  and  called  good. 
doubt  as  to  its  age,  we  fe«I 
tain  as  to  its  motion,  size, 
know  something  of  ita  cd 
turns  at  the  rate  of  alK>ut  o 
miles  per  hour,  around  its 
astronomical  name  for  daa 
again  at  the  rate  of  neai 
thousand  mOes  per  hour 
other  and  larger  chum,  to 
shall  find  the  earth  strong^ 
like  a  child  to  its  mother. 
motion  gives  day  and  ni^t^ 
years  and  seasons.     It  baa 
to   us  h'ss   important   mo 
hoop  circumference  ia  given 
five  thousand  miles ;  but  be 
flattened  at  the  dasher  end| 
perfect  sphere.     Philosopihi 
is  just  the  form  a  fluid  ass 
given  a  rotary  motion  ;  so 
the  churn  and  its  contecits 
been  originally  in  a  fluid  fiJ 
^W\  >R^  ita  comlitioa  is 


Y 


stmiij 


Isatj  thfnkmB  haom 
m  lh«  sto^  of 

thMm  tbtt  mid  Hehrev. 
$«id  it  *^vaft  wit&out  Jbcoi 

m  ^menti  of  ill  ddn^  — 

milk.     To  tkis  ibmbi  a  anS^ 

was  girca,     Hm  ootiaix 

adezi^  itael^  for  tibe  two  ste 
bla.     With  t^  laaUeK,  begm 
Tifee  twoirocdi  Uk»  m 
la  of  pit  jpucsy  lod  masif  tij 
Atfin   boaiul  the  realm  of 
;;.-^  ►  i.,it  time  and  sp«c«,  two 
lable  realities,  neither 
r  both,  say  to  maa, 
^anot  flaabt  that 
ir  senses  w«  are 
^t  all,  it  h  through 
between  the  two 
be  that  deoies  the  exist- 
aool  most  first  prove  we  are 
Thus  the  smallest  point  of 
time  id  able  to  stand  upon  tbe 
of  the  wodd  unseen,  and  pro- 
Ikipe  of  immortalitj. 
began  this  ancient  and  ac^ 
ander  of  churning.     The  first 
r  change  m  the  original  mass 
hare  been  a  separating  or 
p  of  a  part  of  it,  which  our 
historian  calb  the  separating 
attrs  ftom  the  waters,  and 
r  between  a  firmament.  That 
r»9   liftod  up   was  doubtless 
^    clouds    and    atmos- 
j.  Clouds  :  those  corn- 
most    uncommon    things, 
a  moment  the  work  they 
mght  since  first  the  Spirit  of 
fed  upon  the  face  of  the  deep, 
were  hung  in  the  arch  of 
and  how  faithfully  hare  they 
ir  places  7     By  what  magic 
hey  distil  the  heary  water 
80  wondrous  light  ?     For 


F 


tk  4ew  (Mil  of  tkft 
nd  ^piis  B^  jcsrais  otU  of  1^  •#«.. 

Tat  Bftt  otts  skfuitr  wfm  baa  #iiMr 
been  broken^  or  a  gvni  6o«i  a  goUift 
bucktttbfwabist.  What  «pba<ifa  tbw 
ivpofj  nlttttdi^  tkeir  ^ihm  iMseaii? 
Jo^  kw  jMt  the  fhitinfiagff  of  tfat 
dootk^  nor  yet  do  we»  tho«^  tint 
aaae  aky  b  orer  us  to^ia^  ;  the  sane 
ekmdsi  part  into  sonshtiie  oc  gafthst 
mto  storm;  float  ia  game  irejb 
tinged  with  sthrer  and  gaU,  or  wnip 
tlienselves  in  garments  dipp^  in  the 
deep  dyes  of  antitmn  learN^  tnti^Q»i« 
fied  by  rays  of  polativd  Ughl ;  tbey 
crowd  to  the  wint%»r  le^tTtJ,,  mal^ 
fied  in  fleecy  down,  b«?aring  tm^tng 
Telret  iobeS|  bordered  with  p<it|^]e 
and  crimson ;  then,  with  one  accord, 
they  arra}'  tbemselres  in  giay  d^aks 
with  black  hoods,  oiuCtering  And 
wailing,  like  lost  spirits;  tbe  hoods 
grow  blacker  and  longer,  till  tbey 
corer  the  whole  sky,  and  weep  th*»ui* 
selres  into  smiles  and  ruin  bows. 
Busy,  thoughtful  clouds  1  I  oaniiot 
see  bow  earth  coutil  live  without 
them.  How  they  pa^  and  repasm 
across  tbe  biasing  sun,  ttunj^ering  the 
light  and  heat !     I>oss  it  just  ha 


so  ?  or  are  they  reils  in  \Tt9ttj  givsa^ 
as  was  the  veil  on  Hoses*  &ee  f 

Aunt  Chloe  must  bare  learned  her 
^'daring  up  times*'  from  the  ckMlda» 
By  a  wonderful  instinct  they  seem  to 
understand  juift  when  earthly  tilings 
need  watering  and  deausiiig.  Noah 
was  waEhied  of  the  approach  of  one 
of  these  great  wash*days,  and  he 
barely  escaped  with  his  life.  (ItuJo* 
gists  find  undoubted  proof  of  the  re- 
peated washings  the  earth  has  re* 
ceived  from  above. 

The  great  chorn  in  which 


tbing.  After  all,  castles  in  the  air 
are  not  such  improbable  things,  when 
it  is  nearly  certain  that  in  the  air 
may  be  found  the  foundations  of  all 
CMtles,  and  cottages  too.  Every- 
where in  nature  we  have  the  apeo- 
tacle  of  a  churn  within  a  churn, 
like  this  of  the  earth  within  the  air. 
Til  is  outer  one  is  of  remarkable 
weight  and  size,  hcing  nearly  fifty 
miles  thick,  and  weighing  fifteen 
pounds  to  the  square  inch.  Its  mo- 
tion a  are  almost  incooiprehen^ible, 
Sometimea  it  moves  with  a  mighty 
power,  uprooting  forest  trees,  and  up- 
lifting the  depths  of  the  sea }  then 
again^  gently  gliding,  kijf^es  the  eye- 
lids of  the  children  and  the  flowers, 
and  leaves  them  sleeping  stilh  No 
very  satisfactory  explanation  has  ever 
heen  made  of  the  trade-wind,  or  the 
gulf-stream.  These  currents,  like 
9ome  people,  have  a  way  of  keeping 
their  policy  to  themselves.  Yes  :  ever 
and  flJways  the  wind  bloweth  where 
it  listeth,  and  we  bear  the  sound 
thereof,  bat  never  know  whence  it 
i^nmiifh  ta  whithAi*  it  miAth.     It.  BVU.. 


a  sort  of  genenM 
looking  to  the  i 
it^  rather  than  t4 
it  has  been  diseo^ 
monstrous  greed 
continually  tafcii^ 
comes  within  iti 
tually  feeds  on  w| 
reason  assigned 
gormandizing  is, 
giving  out  light 
supply  must  bti  \ 
tng  muat  stop. 
be  made  good, 
quite  uneomlbrtj^ 
to  the  time  when 
in,*'  and  converti 
sun  is  glorious, 
of  ninety-five  m 
other  illustration 
brighten  in  the  c 
the  queer  chuma 
age,  comets  are  t 
them  almost  ever; 
ory.  Tyndairs 
spectroscope  pati 
portuntty    t^^^^H 


697 


To  Id 
cotktp  wtnhA   miiuiv   vac 
y^tu^    W#  hspe  littie  cc»- 
llie  tiiB#  «r  fcne  epent  io 
[that  foftttsig^  teet^in^  mam 
le  fomii  fimid  beiwcca  the 
^T&nite  and  the  git4u    gnML 
tailEas  in  bot  one  Ibox^iixD* 
t^thewbote, — jostatiiiii 
to  tlio  gxcflt  qpe^fcioii^  what 
th  this  ctast^  wfaal  Ibrm  tlie 
I  dote  fip  amokd  tii«  dasbcr, 
kno  poaitire  knovMl^    We 
pf  ^aik  often  thm  AA  \mniB, 
.  the  opening  come  imkid* 
f  banung  liqfoidy  fall  of  death 
or  else  with  an  earth - 
ek  the  great  seams  widen, 
m   miles  ^nd  miles  abore 
t  H^ar  the  mournfiil  stories  of 
leum^  Santorin.   Lisbon,  and 
ic«d  cttieo  of  South  America. 
rm  old  geography  I  learned,  ''A 
I  m  noiintaui  that  sends  forth 
:  aiDoke  &om  it^  top."     Then 
[  where  the  fire  came  from ; 
1  wo^ider  now.     The  centre 
if  Itqnid  or  solid  ?  —  tbat  is 
Whether  the  hot  vomit 
\  ixiilef^s  mouth  is  a  part  of 
ill  otMmical  tiuidi,  still  held 
tn  the  bowels  of  the  earth, 
it  is  solid  rock  and  metal, 
like  action  of  internal  gases^ 
answer  ?      What    power 
It  Io    the  surface?      Surely, 
n  sorry  chumer,  when  she 
[mftk  stop  over  so. 

th<?  mysteries  of  the  in- 

Ichnms  to  the  physicists  and 

we  will  just  take  a  peep 

cbums  called  organic.      If 


tki 

SO.    Wo 
fb«th  ttp 
wKm.    Tub  fan  of  itraetvn  M  4 
tike 

fte  aatmalo  oad 
We  may  follow  tbe  ^Bfeesits  into  tiio 
firing  focm,  asd  out  of  il>  \nX  i»ok  ui 
it  Ko  soobeo  \m  ff«r  pasised,  or 
evm^Cooarf,  tbe  Une  diat  ^Tidas  fifc 
fiom  deatli.  **Tlw  tirmg  Ihuao  of 
the  meanest  animal  or  plant  b  sacml 
aaid  endmnted  grDond,  vhero  Hit 
dieniflt  can  only  take  the  alkon  off 
\aB  F^et,  and  coa^&ss  the  ^nctity 
and  inriolability  of  life,^  Cotem- 
poiatT  with  the  qnestion.  What  is  life? 
i%  Wlien  did  life  begin  ?  Those  who 
deny  the  earth  was  erer  a  fluid*  say 
that  forms  of  life  are  as  old  as  matter 
itself;  that  the  reason  why  ^^  cdde«t 
formations  contain  no  fossils  is,  that 
age  t^n^  to  cTTstalliie  matttT*  and 
obliterate  all  remains  of  organic  struc- 
ture. Traces  of  life  ha^-e  lately  boon 
found  in  deposits  suppooed  to  hare 
been  formed  before  life  began.  Coil* 
sequently,  the  teachings  df  rerelatioii 
on  this  point  are  set  aside,  as  tho 
vagaries  of  wondering  credulity.  This 
ought  to  be  a  dt^th-blow  to  that  an- 
cient writer  we  have  quottid ;  but  he 
has  been  killed  t<x)  many  tinio*  !o  ilie 
easily.  He  cannot  bo  rntrapiMsl  in 
the  net  of  false  chrouolt^gy.  The 
hook  so  skilfully  thn>wn'  caniuit  catch 
a  word  of  Genesis.  No :  Mii!«c»  wr^lo 
for  all  time,  and  so  did  John  ;  nni]  the 
one  cannot  bo  pinned  down  to  a  %\x 
days^  creation  six  th«>ii!*jintl  ytuir-^  flj^o^ 
nor  the  other  to  thi*  MiliTiti'i**  millt^n* 
nium  in  eighteen  liuntlrfHl  and  —  I 
have  not  hcani  the  hvnt  prvphocy;  \% 
would  seem  the  wurld  hiw  soon  enough 
of  the  folly  ijf  conth'nmiujj  an  Wnts 
what  cannot  he  ninh'rwttwHl  Thwro 
are  mysteries  in  re\*eUtian  \  to  thoro 


698 


Chumuig. 


* 

¥ 


are  in  tlie  light  by  wMcli  yoa  read 
these  words.  Do  yan  love,  use,  or 
trugt  the  light  any  the  less  for  all 
that?  Must  if  Mot  all  the  trouble 
comes  from  making  sacred  histJory  say 
and  tnean  what  it  does  not  say  and 
does  not  mean;  or,  rather,  in  saying 
things*  ourselves,  according  to  oiur  own 
way  of  thinking,  and  then  declaring 
them  to  be  "  according  to  Scripture." 
And  80  the  Bible  has  been  distorted 
into  as  many  meanings  as  there  are 
classes  of  mind.  But  the  word  of 
God  changes  not :  it  shall  stand  when 
alt  things  else  have  passed  away. 
Let  the  fossils  tell  their  story  of  the 
b<^ginning  ;  let  them  arise  from  their 
grav**8,  open  thi^ir  dumb  mouths,  and 
sing  the  years  of  their  nativity. 
What  au  oratorio  of  creation  I  But 
be  careful,  0  man^  that  you  do  not,  for 
selfish  purpose,  make  false  interpreta- 
tions I  In  giving  to  us  the  dead  lan- 
guage of  the  ferns  and  fishes,  do  not 
make  the  translation  too  narrow,  nor 
yet  too  free.  It  is  hard  to  bridge 
time,  and  make  the  fastenings  secure 
on  the  uncertain  shores  of  the  other 
side.  Too  many  discoveries  are  yet 
to  be  made,  too  many  graves  are 
holding  their  dead,  too  many  pages 
are  wanting  in  this  vohime  of  fossil 
hirttorv,  to  enable  us  to  draw  unmis- 
takable conclusions?  therefrom.  At 
least*  the  datea^  are  insufficient  to 
warrant  the  rejection,  denial,  of  the 
only  book  that  claims  to  be  di* 
vine. 

And  of  the  churning  all  these  years^ 
who  can  tell?  What  chemist  would 
not  say,  **  It  is  enougli,*'  could  he 
look  on  while  Nature  makes  a  grain 
of  gold,  *^r  changes  carbon  into  dia- 
mond cubes  ?  Egg-gf'rms  se^^m  to  be 
the  same.  Whence  comes  the  differ- 
ence between  the  radiate  and  the  man  ? 
Oh  the  mysteries  of  Nature's  churn- 
ing I      Tho  inea.iie&t»  tVim^  that    is 


made  is  yet  too  gran4 

stood. 

Men  themselves  are  the 
of  some   curious   chums, 
sense  they  can   be  called 
That  of  civTUzatioD^  peibi 
origin  to  Diaa.     It  baa 
lo,   these    many  years 
than  can  be  numbered  hi 
bottom,  and  bottom  top. 
lasting  w^hirl^   out    from 
wondering  peoples,  all  the 
have  been  looking  to  see 
coming  man, —  virtue 
cle.      But  w©  latter-tlay 
given  up  looking  for  this  coi 
for  we  know  he  will  iiev< 
the  coming  woman  brings 
she  may  be  is  beyond  conj 
We  only  know  she  is 

That  ancient  chum,  tbe 
Wn  cut  down,  pie<:ed, 
over  and  over  again ;  while 
it  have  come  pygmy  and  gu 
and  John.     In  the  progra 
teenth  century,  the  pope  u 
infallible,  and  Protest ani 
But  the  golden  nUe 
still  God  ifl  love. 

The  most   peraistent 
the  face  of  the  earth  a 
eians*     They  put  such  stral 
dients  in  the  place  of  the  ] 
such   as   icebergs,    volcanoi 
and  turn  out  such  stnuigi 
of   taS|   tariff^   and   total 
From  the  first  to  tbe  laatjj 
Moses,  are  scattered  the 
policies  that  would  leak. 
Aristocracy  has  never  fAili 
his   ladle   while    trying   t 
Democracy  into  proper  sh 
political  churn  is  always  fnl 
one    can    approach    withoil 
splashed;    hence  the  signi 
the  term,  a  greasy  politici 
in   certain  churning   clnl 
called  rings,  tbe  test  of 


Omt  t^Ok  SAaOam. 


699 


be  siifficimtEj  sSy  to^  aj^- 
tight  plaMft.  Kbi  (mmii  aid;  inf- 
ill —  poekec 

i  social  ckiiEcu.  HalAjarGrriziifT 
Stran;^  tat  wr^  n&ese  twrj 
ssy  Dame  Xatmze'  anul  JDame 
seldom  agTiM-^  S^miit&iii^ 
1  has  be«a  9a5£  otf  ;v  jftrj  in 
g:  HodMT  XainxTft  •SresBes 
Jen  in  soA  *coaiSjefiSiJblY  ti^ 
hesw  3[i9k.  Graini£y  pnc^  ^tKCS 
it-jackets.  Rec.  be  it;  ^aid. 
redh,  ilie  kt»  tfie  WDmaafjr 
so  mcfisl  in  a  SudiLy — of 
i  little  gi>  a  gE»i£  waj.  From 
scrap  of  aa  iai£&  or  l:wnv  ^i&ii' 
k]M>«ii  to-  spct  a  jaxn.  of  m.- 
>le  lengdL  tni|  tiKus  Riumiar- 
[la^  \nb(»e^t«r  m  Reazri  t^ 
man.  ^tuAVK  »  biKKcri  ti&i»  ^oii!e 
kshez.     Maa  tfie  azc&ite<!ti  of 

an  nuiit  <li>  Ms  owu  cIlTirrLin^ 

•Ter  a  huux    dkoxsiedbr  th^vC 

also  cat;  Bgmi»mJ>»rmg that 


man  (£9€9  wst  Eir«  WlWcttI  and  bvtter 
aikimf-..  I>i»7j  frftrny  psoiimwft  afb^r 
rc»  kmiL  lCeii<p!«»iisw  1be|^«t»  m«*s^^Te» 
uesBw  lif*  a  .n»fm<»  ta>  spemi  ojinti 
jHfusi  EH  frinrrny  tso  (fluizxi  skinL-niilk.. 
Itf *  tAu  oI»£  itnrjTr  —  grap«»  of  tLbora*. 
ti^  of  chiiirJe^  PtdOttJiurtimi  witkin 
eannuii  xi^  purity  winbncEtL  What 
wnniier  ti&t*s*»  am  mjocaL  coatagioiLK 
when  nitin  asf^  (iealon^  in  (iiMiitiii.  ami 
mvda  aze^  Hiiii  on  Er}ttimjii»i»  ?  Happy 
&r  us  i£.  whjl»  t&e  Jjiskisr  we  ar« 
l^j^ri'^  Be  aot  »r  heaw  ati  our  m^i^^fir- 
bor  ^  <^  t^  rtssnltai  of  our  tshixniin^ 
w«i:g6.  not  so-  kit^iviEy  a»  kis^  —  bappy 
fibr  ii»  if  tike  <skTizn  we  e*jJl  our»  be 
made  of  sntoul.^  kiTiuesti  tdmbez,.  IULhI 
witA  ttkoitt  wkick  is  LiixwiBe  aoaml  ami 
htawssCL 

Tkm  ami  moEe  aare^  tike  cknmin^ 
of  my  tikoa^i^tav  wt  in  motion  by  tdie 
worrfa  of  tdie  ittLfr  boy^  anray  (mt  kere 
on,  tih»  prairie*  tkait  oUen  anmmer 
(iay.  From,  it  all  I  Leozn^  chTimfng  is 
only  anotker  name  fbc  ckan^b 


OUT  OF  THE  SHADOW. 

*Cf>«s^  wtfev  ^ti»  Jane.     I  keai  tike  (rail 

Tk»  wcinkltni  woriil  renewing^ 

Xkeo^  old  <}iu!HfrlT«>i}r  Lo^e'i  featiTuI 

Tiit  eeiebcUie  ia  :}mag; 

Comey  take  t:ky  bat.     I  ]nn^  to  fe^ 

Tke  blithe  air  mnmi  oa  blowing'; 

TTajfiev  tdie  ice  of  a^  will  iteal 

The  pukie  t^krou^  all  ckinga  tL^wing;.'' 

Tkey  wf*nt^  where  Hemovj^s  kiJiien  clew 
Dtew  tkera,  beyr^ml  tike  viHaije* 
Uniiier  the  heavfrnr'a  *ii^ghtfai  hhoBy 
Seniote  fmm  hxm  ami  tillage  ; 
When  tke  heart  bmie  them^  o^  the  kiH 
Tkey  wamierwL  withoat  ckooaing^ 
Sdea%  anxi  haa<l  in  hami^  and  still 
Old  Jonea  with  new  coofoaing: 


Tim  Ettle  elaador  Hke  fik»% 
TkenrvMoaJ  aointatioii. 


700 


Out  of  the  Shadow^ 


And  breathed  from  clustermg  flowers  wOd 

The  season's  invitation. 

The  iield-lark  rippled  overhead 

Its  son^  to  come  and  follow; 

And  flakes  of  rose  the  orchards  shed 

Past  ever/  sunny  hollow. 

Only  tl»e  cat-bird,  cynic  sage  1 
Sour  in  his  leaved  seclusion^ 
Protests,  as  from  a  hermitage^ 
Against  sweet  June's  delusion* 
So  like  him,  grim  in  black,  and  soufi 
Si^vere,  dyspeptic  preachers 
Protest  with  now  decreasing  power 
Agaiiist  our  cheerful  Beechers. 

'*This  is  the  place;  the  gat«  now  shott 

As  when,  in  childhood's  hours, 

I  shook  this  gummy  hutternutj 

Till  half  its  nut^i  were  ours. 

How  stained  your  hands  !     Our  prize  we  stofted 

In  mother's  closet  sunny, 

All  winter,  then,  devoured  our  hoard. 

With  sauce  unbought  by  money." 


They  paused  to  gaze ;  and  then  his  hand 
Pointed  where,  in  the  meadow, 
Like  triple  emerald  fountains,  stand 
Three  elms,  in  light  and  shadow  \ 
A  shy  path  led  the  way  to  them. 
In  dimpled  glints,  that  shine  and  sing, 
Leaped,  under  branches  of  each  elm, 
A  brown  brook,  frolicking. 

They  sat  themselves  at  that  elm's  root, 
Just  where  the  eddy  glances : 
Speechless,  their  thought  in  fond  pursuit 
Of  dear  youth's  first  romances. 
A  rofle*bush  stained  the  quivering  blue  : 
He  took  two  byds,  and  sharing 
Between  them  these,  above  them  flew 
A  joy  past  words  declaring. 

"  'Twas  here  you  gave  me  leave  to  love; 
Our  pledge,  two  rose-buds,  dearest. 
Is  this  the  one  ?  by  Heaven  above 
Thou  still  sixteen  appearest ! " 
They  rose  to  go,  and  silently 
Returned,  through  twilight  holy. 
And  Love,  in  wrinkled  hands,  could  see 
Two  rose-buds  drooping  lowly. 


T,  ai 


m 


Six  af  Om  6y  Half  a  Dozen  of  the  Other. 


roi 


SIX  OF  ONE 


BY 


HALF  A  DOZEN  OF  THE  OTHER.* 


CHAPTER  XXL 

le  five  went  and  came  on  that 
Sunday,  How  many  times 
id  to  each  other,  what  they 
d  BO  many  times  before ;  **  If 
ff  Fleming  were  here,  it  would 

mying   this  they  were  wholly 

The  truth  was,  that,  if  Jeff 

g   had  been  there^  they  wonld, 

of   coarfe,  hare  pairt*d  off  in 

the  old  and  furailiar  combina- 

They    would   ha%*e   lost   jnat 

[wacity  of  the  new  discoveries 

they  were  making  all  the  time, 

t&kiug  |>rectB6ly  because  their 

fillips  changed  with  every  new 

Into  which  they  entered^  and, 

ip  with  every  other  change  of 

ittie  pUn& 

inwhile,  Jeff  waa  coming  to 
hottgh  they  did  not  know  it, 
mea]  faster  than  the  old  poeti> 
Uajuioog  for  foil  speed  can  tell 
pm  coming  a  good  deal  faster 
|fai  arerage  wind  comes.  He 
bnltig  as  fast  as  high-pressnre 
[  thrown  first  on  one  end  and 
)a  the  other  of  the  pistons  of  a 

fceDgixle  fipom    the    Boston 
re   Shop  would  carry  him. 
moy  of  the  new  school  of  poets 
write  a  realistic  poem  about 
tog;   let   him   try   putting 
ineDt   into   rhythm,  verse, 

U  VTiltoii  Id  co-partneT«h!pt  by 

iMn.  St0we«  Un,  Whltutf,  Mr,  F.  W. 

•  fWkhM,  sod  Mr.  fialv.   B«ob  p«rt- 

r  utf  percoiiAllf  fef]>oii^bl«  t9r  mU 

,  oplaloo*»  lad  tUtcinttttt  of  «tl 


After  he  has  done  this,  he  may  go 
on  to  say,  that  a  little  after  they  lefl 
Casa  Comers,  on  that  October  Sun- 
day afternoon,  three  or  four  very  wild 
cows,  tormented  by  five  or  six  wilder 
German  boys,  left  the  pasture  whew 
they  would  fain  have  been  quiet| 
broke  through  its  fence,  and  were 
rushing  across  the  railway,  when  the 
express,  to  which  Jeff  had  intrusted 
himself*  struck  full  on  the  whitest  of 
the  herd.  She  disappeared ;  but  the 
engine  was  not  so  fortunate  with  the 
other  cows,  and  when  it  was  done 
with  them,  it  was  lying  in  the  prairie^ 
some  feet  below  the  level  it  had  been 
running  on,  gasping  the  last  inarticu- 
late word  which  it  would  epeak  lor 
many  days.  Jeff  and  the  other  paa- 
sengers,  startled  from  their  naps, 
sprang  up,  to  discover  that  they  were 
not  hurt,  and  to  call  an  unexpected 
town  meeting  for  the  advice  and 
assistance  of  the  conductor  and  engi- 
neer. The  hours  spent  in  contem- 
plating the  wrecks  of  engine  and 
cows,  in  repairing  damages,  and  in 
waiting  for  another  engine,  threw 
them  wholly  out  of  time.  The  road 
was  no  longer  theirs,  to  take  the 
expreesire  phrase  of  the  craft.  Their 
pride  was  humbled,  as  is  a  great  car- 
dinars  after  his  fall.  Only  this  morn- 
ing,  and  every  thing  got  out  of  their 
way  I  Only  this  evening,  and  they 
must  shirk  off  upon  sidings,  and  get 
out  of  everybody's  else  way;  all  be- 
cause four  cows  did  not  understand 
the  eternal  etiquettes,  and  know  that 
precedence  must  be  given  to  an  ex- 
presa-traio. 


ALUlUUffilAU* 


Prairie  fire,  indeed  I    One  passen- 

gor  after  another  threw  up  his  win- 
dow on  each  aide  of  the  car*  and 
looked  into  the  night  air ;  and  as  they 
rushed  northward,  at  their  old  speed 
ftgain  now,  and  the  flames  and 
glowing  smoke-clouds  grew  higher  on 
the  horizon^  every  one  knew  tliat  this 
was  no  tire  of  hay  and  straw  and 
sttihble,  but  that  the  city  itself,  which 
was  home  to  most  of  them  and  har- 
bor to  all  of  them,  was  in  flames* 

They  dashed  into  the  station,  wild 
for  Dews,  to  find  all  silent  there. 
The  throng  which  usually  welcomes 
the  arrival  of  an  express  was  else- 
where now ;  not  one  hackman  to  urge 
his  cliuins,  not  one  teamster  to  plead 
for  a  trunk.  Even  the  few  women 
who  found  themselves  on  that  Sunday 
train,  saw  that  their  friends  hatd  not 
come  to  meet  thera.  The  porters  and 
switch-tenders  on  duty  could  hardly 
tell  them  more  than  what  they  knew 
already^  —  that  half  Chicago  was  in 
flames. 

Few  indeed  had  stopped  to  agk 
this,  only  those  who  were   strangers 


■■V    mimwa    wm^ 

before.  For  i 
jam  of  peo|i 
as  he  did  nc 
great  gangliaiuil 
Jeff  felt  a  terrribj 
he  aaw  the  ^tnid 
this  crowd,  He| 
with  a  sick  child 
old  in  hb  arms.  ( 
pale  face  was  1  ** 
for  me  ?  this  cbj 
the  poor  mothel 
Jeff  felt  it  )ik«  i 
him.  Wher 
ford  girls 
Were  they  lost 
was?  Was  thfll 
care  of  them?  | 
crossed  that  St$ 
back  wheels 
tie  frpace,  ev 
which  a  resolai 
himt^elf  And  Jl 
shrink.  He  cza 
pressing  still  tov^ 
up  a  street  whic) 
again,  and  this 
of  horses,   wild 


lik«^ 

•m 

lost  I 
s  thfll 
■m?  I 
at    stxi 

'Ji 

5olaR! 


o/  Om  by  Half  a  Dozen  of  the  Other,  703 


lili  this    wild  eorief/3  parsed 

ben  started  again  for  the  line 

He  cmme  on  it  in  a  mameni, 

laa  ho  expected,  — came  cioae 

fire-t?ngine,  wbose   fore- 

asd  black,  was  just  giv- 

oideis   to   limber   ap,    that 

t  be  pnt  in  a  station  to  wind- 

eff  saw,  by  the  nnconscions 

of  Ihe  men,  that  the  flames, 

aming  brands,  had    leaped 

heads  as  they  worked;  he 

that  the  treacherous  eaves 

warehouse  forty  rods  behind 

in  dames.     Jeff  had  found 

BOW :  he  bore  a  hand  man- 

th#  rest,  at  the  tongue  of 

;  neither  questioned  why, 

reply^  as  one   order  after 

giren,    only    admired 

audacity  of  the  foreman, 

doing  his  personal  duty  still, 

it  cheerfnlly,  in  the  face  of 

'    >.  odds.     **  Easy  with 

r*  her  I   Softly,  boys  ; 

we     are !  "  • —  as   she 

d  into  position,  —  as.  In 

ly  short  time,  a  line  of 

mn  out,  —  as  a  spin  tod  fel- 

it  up  half  the  height  of 

!ty    warehoose,  —  and,    amid 

m    of   the     few   workmen, 

black   the  spiteful    flame, 

tamed  his  fountain  on  the 

imte.      Short-lived  triumph, 

They  bad   not   been   three 

ition,  sending  out  hose, 

I'lbsdi^,  to  points  which 

Ic,  when,  as  Jeff  rose 

lEDeeSv  where,  in   a  deluge 

be  had  been  coupling  two 

Qg-hoee  together,  he  saw, 

foreman   did    not   see,   so 

he  in  his  attack,  —  another 

icof^    a  whole    square    to 

d  nf  thent,  aU  bannered  and 

ia    flame.       Jeff    simply 

to  tbe  foreman^  who  nod-- 


ded  in  reply  with  a  grim,  hard 
smile,  called  in  his  hose  once  more, 
coiled  it  roughly  as  be  might;  once 
more  gare  the  order  he  had  given  so 
often,  —  **  Limber  up,  boys !  No  good 
here!  Easy  with  her!  Walk  her 
along,^ — and  directed  the  new  sta- 
tion. It  was  as  if  they  had  been 
spitting  at  the  flame* 

Jeff  was  willing  to  work,  but  not  at 
such  work  as  this.  It  was  the  fore- 
man's duty,  very  good  for  the  foreman ; 
but  it  was  not  hia.  And,  as  Jeff  saw 
the  steamer  in  position  onee  more,  he 
ran  up,  he  knew  not  why,  toward  the 
Court-house^  which  they  had  seen  tow- 
ering high  in  the  distance.  He  left; 
the  line  of  Are  for  the  moment^  called 
by  voices  in  the  crowd  which  had 
gathiTcd  in  the  lighted  square,  and 
turned  to  join  them.  "Take  hold, 
gentlemen  ;  take  hold  I  Bo  you  mean 
to  have  these  poor  fellows  roasted 
alive  ?  *'  These  were  the  first  words 
that  came  to  Jeff  in  the  midst  of  the 
uproar;  and,  in  a  moment,  he  saw  the 
po€^ition.  There  had  been  a  theory 
that  the  Court-house  was  fire-proo£ 
Kow,  the  basement  of  the  Court-house 
was  used  as  the  county  jail,  and  was 
fi^lled  with  prisoners.  The  keepers, 
doubtiiil  as  to  their  rights  to  release 
them,  had  gone  to  whoever  had  that 
right,  for  some  sort  of  sign  manual. 
Meanwhile,  the  cupola  of  the  Court- 
house was  in  flames  ;  the  heat  and  hor- 
ror of  the  fire  made  themselves  known 
within  stone-walls  below.  And  this 
army  of  wretches,  whose  separate  cells 
had  all  been  unlocked  by  the  retiring 
waniens,  was  screaming  within  for 
freedom ;  while  the  strong  outer  doors 
were  bolted  and  locked*  They  were 
all  shut  up  together,  in  one  undbtin- 
guished  crowd.  The  cry  of  oath  and 
entreaty  could  be  distinctly  heard 
by  the  smaUer  crowd  outside.  But 
in  that  smallei  cxowd,  tome  duul  of 


(04 


Six  of  One  hy  Ealf  a  Dozen  of  ih€  Oth^. 


\sm     1 


sense  had  understood  the  exigency, 
and  ba*l  voted  himself  luto  command. 
The  workmen  who  were  reJaying  the 
pavement  of  the  square  had  left, 
on  Saturday,  a  convenient  timber, 
with  which  they  a<lju8ted  its  grade. 
**  Take  hold,  gentlemen  ;  take  hold  ! 
Do  you  mean  to  have  them  roaated 
aJive?**  The  sovereigns  who  were 
passing  understood  the  exigency,  and 
rushed^  at  this  command*  to  the  rescue, 
Jeff  seized  the  timber  with  the  rest, 
—  thirty^  forty  of  thera  had  hold  of 
it  together.  "  Back !  back  !  a  few  steps 
back.  Now  I  One,  two,  three,"  And 
they  rushed  at  the  gate,  to  be  well-nigh 
overthrowTi  by  the  recoil,  "Once 
more,  men  !  back  !  a  little  back!  Now  1 
Are  3*ou  ready  ?  One,  two,  three  ! " 
And  once  more  their  hands  were  torn, 
and  they  thrown  back  on  each  other, 
as  the  gate  refused  to  yield.  But 
their  clieerful  leader^  after  examining 
its  coiulitioo,  reported  favorably  of  the 
effect  *•  Don't  give  it  up,  men.  Back 
again  !  —  little  more  I  —  little  more  ! 
Now !  One,  two,  three  !  *'  And  with 
rallier  more  skill,  and  a  swing  rather 
more  elastic,  they  rushed  again  at  the 
gate ;  and  this  time  it  was  certain  that 
something  inside  had  given  way.  An 
answering  cheer  from  within.  Some 
swings  of  the  battering-ram,  directed 
with  more  precision,  if  with  less  force, 
and  then,  in  one  instant,  the  gate 
swung  away,  Jeff  knew  not  where ; 
and  one  black  stream  of  life  poured 
out  from  the  gateway  into  the  street, 
with  howls  and  cheers  and  gladsome 
oaths*,  and  scattered  to  be  seen  no 
more,  Jeff  stood  still,  almost  won- 
dering why  no  one  spoke  in  articulate 
words,  and,  in  a  moment,  found  him- 
self alone.  He  was  the  only  man 
who  had  nowhere  to  go. 

Then  recurred  to  him  the  question 
which  had  come  to  him  so  often  since 
the  young  man  p«waae4  \i\m  ml\i  IVjl^ 


sick  child,—  *'  Where  9X^  tlw  G 
girls  ? ''  \Miere,  indeed?  a&di 
one  to  go  in  search  of  them  fl 
had  just  such  a  qnestion  papl 
me  in  a  dream,  when,  all  of  a 
it  appeared  that  some  one  wb 
have  been  there  was  not  then 
it  a  little  strange,  that  Jeff 'j 
did  not  fi^rst  frame  itself  intO| 
is  Nettie  ?  "  though  he  had 
ing  letter  from  Nettie  lying 
hearty  and  had  been  wotidl 
he  and  she  were  to  meet 
and  whether  he  were  jeala 
Mr.  Marsh  or  the   Mr.  Da 
had  been  writing   about? 
spontaneous   question  was 
not  of  one,  but  of  all :   •* 
the  Greyford  girls  ?  *'     Jaw 
whom  all  Greyford  had  ti 
his;  Nettie,  who  had  said 
that  was  holy  s)ie  was  his  ; 
RachelT''  as  Jeff  always  caU 
Holley.    Jeff  felt  that  if  h« 
thera,  or  help  them,  that 
was  dumped  down  in  Chici 
moment  for;  not  to  be  serf 
ment  warrants  on  rascali*  c4 
steamers  out  of  the  way  of  1 
Where  were   the   Greyfi 
Asking  himself  this  qaeatioii; 
into  the  throng  again  ;  hopi 
hope  that  some  fatality 


Where  were   the    Owj 

They  were  not  together. 

At  that  moment  of  time,] 
what  defective  chronology  i 
lied  upon,  Jane  Bitrgesa  ' 
from  an  uneasy  dream.  w| 
not  be  described  in   i 
to  do  with  realities  ; 
visions.     Ned  Banllf^s  wa« 
at  her  door,    "  Jane !  Jane] 
great    fire!    Sophy  in 
you  had  better  g^t  4^||idj 
self  J  it  will  comfbd 
"N^^kdences  doed  the 


cage   to  tb*    srr:':_r*;:      ^c    -_;m:.  T'"::*   \    t    ~   :.::n.-:c  ."-:-»>   :-;>   .':\«- 

1  Bardie:^'?   i-'iinc''!-    ir  ••  »l^J.r:__•^  :ul.-_    :i-z-     :  r    v-^:-          -    i-'—tc 

e   war  all  tLii    :^-.     c  "ll    "lu-j-    : Hi-.     :.  v  •.■.:_:;.:?  :.;»a?t., 

B-    To  TLi*  i]i:irr,  -r  r:_.i^r  ":jl:  f  v_    .    — -r.--   -.    =.   --    •  -  ■-      v  t:- 

articnlar  Ir.t':  t.wi.  ':.:•.   -i^  ri    ;,  .;  -  _^      r  --i->    -^     «:  -  -  ••  ":   -:. 

acular  bacirT  :f  v^-t-r  ¥  : -:r-   :-.  -..  -  i-T   'i-i   "•".•-  --■  i-    r«-a'r   — 

I   Barile^.    cir*---!    -i-J"         ■.::.-  v  .  --    ^     r    :.  ,r.  --  -^  u    -  ■  ■  ■      i*iii 

roold  hare  !•---:.  SL'^r^   -.:.;-t    «:.-  v--::     -r    v .  j-.r   ir-v— :.     ..r:  ~:*-.    -ir 

hi*    \jwzl   !':•::?.*..    vin    -ij^    r^rr--.  r.i.i»_-_  v--l    ^-^.r^     -.:.•:   "l.  ■  r    j::v-r*. 

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Sar?  tio-.r:-  li-  Ir:-  'i^-  f.-'-  :  :--l^--.          r  ...-  :,     :  ''-.";•■      ~:»* 

throarii    '.'':    ^ilv     -ii.     r-.  r  ri*:- -■     :  i-"-    :  - "-     .--•  '-  -■•-   ~:t^ 

d  2-ee  trrrr  :  ■  rur?    ::    Lrrr  ri  'n-  -Lr-i  r  _:-.>■  r_     '.-:"■              t»  vt-r 

Bible  Jaz:*:  !     S":.*r  L-:!   iL-  v.-   l.t  ii.   -.:  -    ?;>'-.;*.  -    .:     •  v   r    .  ..-^^fl 

:   m^naeni   r:-    bL  v   v:  ,  l    fr>_£:  Tl.!-    *-:     i-tp*.    =•;  r      _  -    :  ■:     l::  v 

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gerii-^  i2t' vrrt^   r.-r  i*if  r  •  •-  *t  r:r     --J.   *  2^-_       ■■::■:    .■  •■•-:     .\>ait 

for  w.>rk.     S*::.^I">1t -'l-t     Jri'-L  i^  "wi        1" -i    .i-i    ..      :■  -..  :^    i-vr:  , 

ss.  hair,  tfrrr  ::  :.r  ^i.-  .1   ir^-r  ••  ii:r    ,  r-:.    :  r   ::  r     ...  .-t :.      "I*i: 

work.    wi-L    X-i:    1-L.rI-^     : -rr  -j_-~    rc-vi-rt    virr-.    "-tJ"  » ...   :»: 

ked  up  the  ?ti.-r^»-k"r.     ^:,-.    £-_i.r  aLJr 

A  her  dxr.  a^i  arcrl    wi-i-:  tlr  I-tZ^'t-l    Ir  ^l-tt-.  u-  ': 

I  to  do,  v-.-.i   rr- ;.:      i.  z^Ltt-^. 

I  wife-   wa^.  jtv.-k_ij   -  ~-   TL^k-  s^rirrT-  :.   -   -:    :  v^-     .: 

!har*9  Jane  w..i..J   f--!   ~-  -r   -■--"■  ir  -rr  -  nr-  ■?!    :.  v^?  ^ 

ik   were  reilv  f- r   l    r -l   r—  z..  -  -~^.'      -:  ^  -   ^'- 

nJ.     F>r  r.!i.-^".£.  •-  v-^-  l.-  ■'■ -t  v  :.^    -ir  ■.-_:.!  -p-i^-  .     v  .; 

nenr   fa'?:r--.Lj   :it     -•-:-.*.-'-:  -—:..-:    :  :  lI  ».r  ■- . 

ich  1-rd  to  rlr  r  •■£.     I:  'i.i*r  v  ..  _  T:_.- ?- :'-  -  "»  l,  . .  ^:  c-  . 

Be  up  ill    a   =;L:.::-.  *':  -    r.i. '    -i^-  :...-"   -1 -^:    >    >:l::-        J*: 

\  at  the   rerj    :  .;.  Ir    ti'-x    ■ -r  ."   '-r    r:.r  il  r: :  i-'r  :.: 

id  w:»   riteaJT.  t"  r   "^   _.-    ".Tet   •  :.:.  -    lr:^-r--.    .:    /: -. 

I  the  arjow.  v     .1,  :—".  t«.-  ■ '.     A>  ." 

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B&  she  ra::  u;.  ai-I  ;  .:.--  2^-1    .:.  iilTri.  t  ■ , :.    :l   :^  :     ::u 

kicfkout.  ::.-r  .:....:.  ::^:  w    !:    r^:  ^i  .      -.»..> 

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which    maie  J--:-   fr^r  v.-   ->;  ^-.t:.  X  /  .*t"'-  v..  .: .  :.-.•::.  :;•;  r.'.*;  .<' 

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..:':>.>*-.^ 

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f  :.:!: 

.'"     :.;> 

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:-  ..;  a 

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f06 


Six  of  One  by  Ealf  a  Dozen  of  the  OfAerJ 


was  a  call  that  did  summon  NedfVora 
bis  commanding  station,  and  seut  him 
down  stairs,  to  Hnd  what  faucet  had 
been  turned  wrong,  Alas !  it  was  a 
faucet  that  Ned  even  could  not  set 
right.  In  one  fatal  line  from  the  spot 
where  it  was  bom,  the  conflagration 
had  dashed  across  the  city  to  the  roof 
of  the  great  water- works,  which 
aeemed  so  far  away.  That  roof  had 
fallen  upon  those  engines  which  the 
moment  before  represented  the  max- 
imum of  human  powerj  as  they  also, 
like  Jeff  and  Jane,  were  working  their 
willing  utmost  in  their  ^eat  duty. 
And  so  they  were  still. 

But  the  indomitable  Ned  Bardies 
would  not  quail.  '*  It  isn't  as  if  we 
Iiadn^t  got  the  reservoir."  Again  he 
conferred  with  his  neighbors,  laid  off 
his  working  parties  for  the  stairways, 
draped  his  out-houses  with  carpets 
and  bock  in gs,  rolled  a  hogshead  here, 
and  aijotlier  there,  invoking  all  the 
traditions  of  early  New-England  life, 
and,  as  the  night  waned,  filled  them,  to 
be  in  readiness  for  the  crisis.  No  one 
within  the  range  of  Ned*s  line  of  bat- 
tle conld  escape  the  contagion  of  his 
•energy. 

But,  for  once  at  least,  the  doubtful 
wife  was.  the  better  prophet.  She 
•was  preparing  for  retreat,  while  Ned 
was  preparing  for  fight  Does  such  a 
union,  perhaps,  make  the  true  general  ? 
She  compelled  Michael  to  harness 
the  Itorscs  into  the  light  wagon  which 
stood  in  the  stable,  and  bring  it  round 
to  the  door  What  did  not  she  and 
the  children  pile  into  that  wagon  I 
Her  father*a  portrait,  and  Ned's  moth- 
©r*8;  the  basket  of  silver  plate,  which 
had  been  carried  up  stairs  when  they 
•went  to  bed;  two  or  three  of  those 
trunks  of  hasty  packing;  nay,  on* 
the  floor  of  the  little  cart,  in  the 
midst    of    all    these    accumulations, 


which  Ned  had  always  lii 
>  himself,  when  he  came  bo 
night,  from  the  office, 
strxnl  there,  hour  after  hour  j 
child  to  grandmother,  wb« 
lighted  on  any  thing  in 
which  seemed  particularly] 
would  be  ciirrieti   down,  aa^ 
mystery   crowded    into    th 
And  still  Ned  said  it  was  1 
that  the  fire  had  pasi^ed 
there  need  be  no  fear. 

None  tfie    less  did  the 
From  a  little  reconnoUfii 
came-  rushing    back; 
hands  flung  little  Carl 
in  the  wagon,  called  his  wi£ 
othera  out,  bade  Michael 
take    the    reins,    lifted 
Michaera  knees,  and  bade 
slowly  to  the  base-ball  gr 
phy  and  Jane  and  the  little  j 
followed,  arms  filled  with  lill 
hold    gods.        Ned    Bard  la 
went  back   into   his  lihr 
round  his  neck  his  little  trar 
looked  his  last  upon  his  ha 
locked  the  front  door,  put 
his  pocket,  and  followed  tbo  i 

He  overtook  Sophy  In 
"Wilmarth's  house  is 
were  not  out  of  it  two  minu 
it    was  gutted.      All   that 
gone.     I  tell  you,  Sophy,  it  i 
tlamc :   it  is  a  wall  of  ^Te,J 
down,  and  nothing  stsndii  i 

•*  Thank  God,  the  child 
safe !  **  said   Sophy,     And  1 
dren  they  were.     They 
little  treasures  tigliUy,  and 
along  in   firm  order,  at  tl 
or  their  mother's  sidp* 

A   short   ndief    at    the 
Michael  unloaded  hts  wagon 
made  there  dnftr  Iittlu  bivou 
least,  we  arc  salts  hot!S  ^^ 
nothing  that  cm  bom 
Cl^zl  ^;cow  t2flOd  to  Uie 


J^x  of  One  by  Half  a  Dnm  ^  the  Other.        WT 


^[HesdaBSr  aaid  begm  to  m% 

I  dbmvstoiMS  fattiest  into  tlie 

And  then,  tn  one  isftmat,  witli 

^diftoge  in  tike  «ddjr  of  tlie 

is  m  coinnit  of    hhtsk 

upon  t^  6i90Q  fiosne  pile 

^  Ittmbefv  u»d  Xed  has  Cad 

^  ims,  and  Soj^r  luu  data^kal 

il/,  and  Jane  u  dnggmg  Jdm, 

cUael  ka^  die   way;     diic^ 

^darkocifli  in  Ibis  smoke,  dioiigli 

tlie  8iin  hat  rieexu     lliebael 

Ins  di rough  a  gap  in  thfe  boaxd 

"This     uniT,     Mm    Jaae! 

donm   her%  Mn.  Bavdles!    I 

hoj,  ma^ara/'  Toraing  this 

Itinimg  that  waj;  a  mudscow 

tnh  of  doattng  lamher  there  ; 

fight  with  a  drtmken  boat- 

'  DOW  runjiiiig  across   a    totter- 

jik    bridge,   which    has  been 

OS;  hf  some  one  deeiDg  just 

^  tis,  and  we  are  safe  again. 

red  on  the  deck  of  a  crowded 

r,    Ned    Bardies   esgerlj  calls 

f —  "  Kettr,  Jobn^  Carl,  grand- 

Tbank    God,    we   are    all 

i  th«u  u)tr  csptain  of  the  boat 
f  to  thera,  to  say  that  he  mu^t 
into  the  lake ;  that  any  who 
to  ^tav  on  land  mast  go  on 
A  ten]pe*!»t  on  the  lake,  and 
I  of  fire  on  the  land  I  There 
f  hfit  few  who  did  not  prefer  the 
'4  going  to  the  bottom,  to 
:  longer  trial  of  the  battle  on 

|m]  Hardies  determined  to  stay, 
^Bliia  children.  He  gave  Mike 
^Miice,  whether  to  stay  or  to  go; 
^Hike  gaid,  —  the  faithful  fellow, 
^  As  ye're  all  safe  here,  there  may 
Eie  one  else  that  needs  me.  I 
go  and  see/* 


'  is  the  answer  to  Jeff  Flem- 
'  ipifetioo,  io  far  as  one  of  the 


Grryfbid  gills  wQis  < 
he  it  said  in  psadng.  tilt  ioe 
tte  pttUic  opnitQa  of  Grerlbcil 
Ma^Qcd  to  luoi  as  kis  owa  iNUfieitj, 
VBti]  Nettie  SylTa  had  tiniMd  his 
ssseeptthle  bcwrt  in  aikether  diiectioflL 
No  gie^  likelihood  thai  JeT  FItai- 
tug  will  tod.  Jane  Burgess  on  tlial 
stoliB-tossed  steamer  in  the 
P«flM^lS  he  will,  —  stranger 
hare  happened  in  this  story.  But  ^ 
will  see. 

It  was  indeed  one  of  tbm  pe^liar 
hofrors  of  the  great  fire,  that,  in  the 
flights  and  rescues,  there  were  so  many 
different  tides  of  human  life,  sweeping 
in  different  directions  at  the  same 
moment  of  terror,  and  each  parted 
horn  the  others.  The  fugitives  who 
fied  to  the  lake  were  parted  from 
those  who  had  escaped  tsouthwafd^  aildv 
yet  again,  beyond  that  firt^t  line  of  fii% 
which  swept  across  the  North  Side, 
there  was  a  third  army  of  the  house- 
less, whose  flight  was  northward ;  an 
army  enlarged  as  every  new 
gare  way.  In  a  thousand  instanoe%' 
the  fathers  of  families  had,  in  the 
night,  left  their  home®,  apparently 
secure,  and  gone  down  town  to  work 
for  the  safety  of  their  property;  so 
that,  when  the  crisis  of  flight  came 
for  wives  and  children,  they  wei«  ] 
parted  from  those  who  were  used  to 
care  for  them,  and  on  whom  they 
were  used  to  rely.  For  after  the  tun- 
nel was  rendered  useless,  and  the 
bridges  gave  away,  the  North  and 
South  Sides  were  completely  parted 
from  each  other.  It  happened,  as  in  a 
thousand  other  cases  of  those  who  wero 
closely  tied  in  life,  that  the  little  par- 
ty of  our  friends  was  so  broken,  that 
tlieir  history  must  be  followed,  not  on 
one  only  of  the  lines  of  retreat,  hut 
upon  each  in  turn. 

Wliere  were  the  Greyford  girls  ? 

As  for  Rachel  Holleyy  at  the  mo- 


irv  orooise  «,  weu  ouc  oi  u>wu  on 
the  South  Side  ;  and  that  goi>l  woman 
was  only  too  glatl  to  welcome  so  de-ar 
a  friend  as  Rachel  iu  her  new  quar- 
ters. Horace  was  there  too ;  and,  in 
the  sight-seeing  of  the  Grey  ford  par- 
ty, they  had  had  many  a  merry  rendez- 
voiw  and  jolly  tea-drinking  at  these 
hospi  tabl 0  ♦ju arters.  The  alarm  of  tire  * 
Sunday  night  had  kept  Horace  out; 
and  when  Kachel  went  to  bed,  he  had 
not  returned.  The  family  at  home  had 
looked  at  the  lire  tVom  tlio  window 
before  going  to  bed,  but  they  were 
quite  too  far  from  the  sceDeof  it  to  be 
disturbed  by  the  noise  of  the  alarm. 
Good  Mr^,  Worboise  slept  too  soundly 
to  be  car<?ful  whetlier  her  ^*  boarders  '' 
returned  at  ooe  hour  of  the  night  or 
another.  Indeeti,  when  she  woke, 
with  her  raaids,  to  start  things  in  the 
morning,  it  wa3  some  little  time,  as 
siio  said  afterwardv^,  before  she  looked 
out  of  the  window.  She  looked  tbea 
toward  the  south  ;  and  she  had  been 
stirring  "  nigh  half  an  hour,  zif  't 
was  any  other  day,''  before  she  knew 
that  there    was    not    a    man    in    her 


and  so  tremendtjij 
which  they  bq 
they  crossed 
these  young  i 
stinct  for  mnot 
is  a  characteristj 
Americans.  Bat  I 
this,  after  such 
night's,  ftQ  alarm  i 
Street  was  no 
pause,  each  of 
self  for  work,  and  i 
his  landlady  that  1 
shr^  need  not  sit  ii| 
windward  as  the]f| 
course  no  fear  for  j 
was  right.  But,  ai 
rtage  rattled  aloxi^ 
young  men,  botb  d 
anxiety  of  the  m0| 
enomy;  and  Hom 
shudder  bis  words 4 
"as  if  we  all  wemj 
common  calamity.*^ 
They  came  to  W 
eoough  of  it  befo| 
Not  with  the  eni 
little  that  tlM^.iM 


lenJud 

I 


Six  of  One  by  Half  a  Dozen  of  the  Other. 


ro9 


ira«  plenty  of  work  for  two 
young  fellows  with  he^ds 
sliouldefs,  Tliey  raa  fiist  to 
V  at  the  countiDg-room  of  his 
*j&ttL  Fay  was  not  there,  — 
there.  But  it  was  so 
whole  yard  woulJ  be 
range  of  flame  within  ten 
that  Horace  did  not  hesitate 
tliB  irounting-room  through  a 
open  the  outer  door  with  a 
and  then  pile  into  an  ex- 
igan,  which  Mark  had  brought 
the  de^kji  of  the  two  part- 
erery  thing  moveable 
find.  The  safe  they  would 
HHb  toOj  hut  it  was  clearly  too 
»r  the  cart.  Tht^  was  in  tlie 
oafm,  when  to  hire  an  express- 
was  St  ill  a  pos^i  unity.  Mark 
W  wiMde  in  triumph  up  to  hU 
N]gliig;i9  ju«t  as  Mr,  Vander* 
tlie  senior  clerk,  appeared, 
it^jy  he  had  the  keys  to  the 
iod  he  and  the  young  men 
borfc  work  in  emptying  that, 
nyiiig  the  contentji  to  places 
to  be  places  of  Becurity. 
lOtt  of  £udden  work^  of  new 
jwid  new  provisiion,  rapid 
and  action  as  rapid^ 
ry  of  the  night  It  all 
of  course,  a»  well  in  range 
feeling  with  which  they 
after  the  fire  leaped  across 
when  all  tnen  who  were 
knew  that  there  was  now  a 
t  M  to  the  existence  of  the 

Chtt^go  Hiver  is  a  sluggii^h 

«M,  formed  by  the  union  of 

about  half  a  uiile  ba^^k 

liike.     After  the  union,  the 

flows  eastward  into  the  lake. 

atreacm^  before  they  meet, 

h,  one  »>uth,  to  the  point 

Tlie  Weit  Side,  so  called,  ia 

them*     Several  bridges  and  a 


tunnel  tinite  it  with  the  North  Side 
and  the  South  Side.  These,  in  turn, 
are  sepaxmted  from  each  other  by  the 
riTer,  and  united  with  each  other 
again  by  bridges  and  a  tunnel.  The 
rirers^  or  rirer,  make  the  harbor  of 
the  city.  To  one  who  rattles  over 
the  bridges  in  a  carriage,  they  seem 
narrow  as  ditches.  But  when  you 
see  two  schooners  pass  each  other^ 
or  when  you  see  a  schooner  turned 
round  in  the  narrow  stream,  you  see 
that  there  is  more  width  than  you 
supposed.  The  great  fire  having 
begun  in  the  lumber-yards  on  the 
West  Side,  our  friends  had,  at  the  first, 
supposed  that  its  havoc  would  at  the 
least  be  checked  by  the  river ;  bad 
enough,  indeed,  that  it  should  only  be 
checked  there.  No  little  part  of 
their  service  of  that  night  luid  been 
on  board  vessels,  which  seerne*!  to  be 
in  the  line  of  fi.re  as  the  terrible  tern* 
pest  drove  it  on.  It  was,  Mark 
thought,  a  little  after  midnight,  when, 
as  they  were  recro&sing  the  bridge^ 
from  one  of  many  expeditions  to 
what  then  seemed  a  region  of  safety, 
they  paused  a  moment  to  look  north- 
waxd,  and  Hi^t  felt  that  their  confi- 
dence in  the  river  also  was  a  delusion. 
They  could  see  then  how  the  storm, 
which  seemed  higher  than  ever,  waa 
flinging  fire-brands  upon  the  poor 
lumber-sloops  in  the  river;  nay,  once 
and  aguin  a  burning  brand  would  soar, 
as  if  devils  were  carrying  it,  cjuito 
across  the  stream.  With  the  thought 
of  what  might,  nay,  must  happen,  if  the 
fire  got  lodgement  on  the  other  side, 
Mark  and  Horace  at  the  same  mo- 
ment began  to  think  of  other  duty 
than  carrying  account  books  to  a 
place  of  safet3%  **  Do  you  believe 
they  know  of  this  in  Erie  Street  ? ''  said 
Horace,  tlmikingof  Jane*  And  Mark 
confessed  that  he  had  been  anxious 
to  go  and  see  if  the^  were  uot  Cti^Vvt* 


**  I  will  fp  roeiid  by  the  Itbraiy,  an^ 

if  all  is  sitfe  there^  I  will  join  yau," 

So  Horace  crossed  back,  and  found 
kis  way  to  tbo  Lasalle-stroet  tunnel ; 
but  lie  was  not  to  come  to  Erie  Street 
go  eaaily.  First  a  loyal  effort  to  belp 
on  lier  way  an  Irish  woman  and  three 
children ;  then  an  adventure  with 
»ome  terrified  boraes»  who  were  led  out 
fix>n)  one  of  the  North-side  stables,  de- 
layed him  longer  than  he  knew.  He 
promised  to  take^ — and  did  take  — 
one  of  these  wild  horses  to  a  private 
&tal4e  as  far  up  as  North  Avenue, 
where  it  was  thought  he  wotild  be  safe ; 
he  mounted  the  terrified  creature  bare- 
back, as  he  had  done  more  good-na- 
tured beasts  in  old  Greyford  days. 
But  when  he  returned  from  this 
knight-errantry  he  found  the  line  of 
fire  had  crossed  to  the  lake,  and  that 
he  was  cut  off  by  it  from  Erie  Street 
If,  as  was  perhaps  possible,  he  could 
have  crossed  there,  he  did  not  rightly 
find  his  way.  He  chose  in  preference 
the  Kinzie-street  bridge;  and,  though 
more  anxious  than  ever  about  Jane 
anil  her  frienJs,  he  thought  his  best 
wav  to  reach  them  wni  tn  mfitum  to  tha. 


wSfkrng^ 

to  foDowhim- 
di>ctorthat  he 
harm's  way  th; 
had  the  feeling 
be  safe  with  some  ol 
well  up  on  Lasalle  i 
other  gentlemai^  I 
the  heavy  ooncbeff 
with  their  own  hai 
their  tronks,  and  pil 
their  party,  t^o  swi 
ment  carried  throug 
utes  the  whole  par^ 
hospitable  house  4 
which  the  doctor  hi 
much  safer  than  a  1 

Alas  for  poor  huii 
doctor  had  run  jn 
the  tempest  and  oifi 

Not  his  party  ^ 
twenty  other  people 
the  house.  A  p06f 
bundles  of  clothes,  \ 
property,  encurabe] 
Everyboily  was  m 
meanwhile  everyb 
The    ladies    and    i 


of  One  by  Half  a  Dozen  of  the  Other.        711 


fibed  my  crymg  that 
be  laat  monieot;  that 
&t  be  gone  :  and  no* 
liue*s  ]{^fid^  the  lonjf  cor- 
ed full,  took  up  the 
6t  a  bouse  in  Pearbom 
stlemen  protnised  that 
brin^  the  troDkd  where 
be  all  right  And  so* 
fficulty  than  mif^ht  have 
iiif  all  came  f^afe  to  Dear- 
Wid  again  all  raet  a  cor- 
Ma  hare  just  the  ^ame 
pun  as  a  few  hours  passed 
the  same  words  dracribe 
lad  long  since  cast  loose 
operty  of  her  own.  She 
r  taken  charge  of  a  little 
Mrs.  Goodhue's  mother^ 
m  itself  a  large  lift  for 
wpple  with,  —  and  of  a 
,g  of  Mr.  Fontenelle'Sj 
t  kneW;  contained  a  hun- 
(tiioQsand  dollars  in  five- 
la.  Kettie  had  declared 
^hue,  that  the  portrait 
safe  as  the  lucre.  At  the 
ise,  she  had  worked  as 
the  best  But  wlien  the 
;Kt  came  again ^  she  em- 
picture,  and»  by  science* 
enel^  kept  the  big  bag 
lliree  of  those  little  fin- 
»y  were  strong,  if  they 
JI,**  as  Maggie  Mitchell 
again  they  started  for 
known  to  Mn.  Gracie, 
"  certainly  protected." 
were  more  encura- 
fettie  got  confused,  or 
;  confuted.  She  could 
rk  Street  when  tthe 
» she  would ;  and  when 
a  great  torrent  of 
upeiled  her  to  stop  a 
(then  she  could  not  see 
rty*  What  strange 
r-England    girls    are  f 


The  first  thought  to  Nettie — little 
laughing  flirty  as  you  think  her,  dear 
reader  —  was,  that  on  Friday  only, 
she  hail  been  sitting  in  the  High 
School  with  her  friend  Miss  White,  and 
had  heard  a  bright  girl  read  from  the 
second  ^^neid,  how  Creusa  acted  when 
she  found  herself  in  just  the  same 
scrape  in  Troy. 

"  In  unfrequented  br-wayi  u  we  ma. 
Striving  the  more  frequented  «tnet»ro  shan. 
My  wife,  Cppuba,  in  the  darkness  blind, 
Torn  hy  fotnc  wretcbcd  fate,  ii  left  behind. 
Perhapfl  ibe  lost  the  narrow  path  I  found ; 
Feikaps  the  fell,  exhatts&ed,  on  ihe  ground. 
I  lookefl  not  back,  nor  tboaght  to  look,  untO 
We  reached  the  ancient  shrine  on  Ceres' 
Hill/' 

But  oar  friend  Nettie  had  no 
thoughtj  however,  of  ♦*  going  under; " 
her  only  anxiety  was  about  Mrs.  Good- 
hue-s  picture  ;  which,  after  all  &he 
had  said,  she  would  have  died  for. 
She  rushed  on  bravely  with  the 
throngf  and  was  thrown  for  a  moment 
against  the  shafts  of  a  wagon,  m  that 
the  young  man  at  the  horse^s  head 
apologized  to  her.  Kettte  smiled  as 
she  thanked  him ;  and  he  recognized 
her,  titougli  she  did  not  know  him. 
Her  pretty  face  was  black  with  smoke 
and  dust.  The  Ifears,  forced  by  the 
smoke,  were  running  helplessly  in 
white  channels  down  her  rounded 
cheeks.  There  was  but  one  attention 
which,  in  that  crims,  the  gentleman 
could  f^y  her ;  and  he  paid  it.  ^*  Mits 
Sylva,  would  you  like  to  have  me 
wipe  your  eyes?'' 

*'  Thank  you,*'  said  Nettie,  as  mer- 
rily as  she  had  said  "  Tliank  yo«  " 
wlien  he  took  her  down  to  supper  the 
Wednesday  evening  before.  And 
thij  true  knight,  —  whoee  name  will 
ever  be  unknown,  — with  his  one  di*- 
engaged  iMUidy  drew  a  handk^'rcbiil 
from  bis  pocket,  and  wiped  the  pf#- 
isioua  tear-droj^  from  tlie   ^wttmt 


712         Six  af  One  by  Half  a  Dozen  of  the  Other. 


eyes  in  Chicago.  Who  wills  may 
make  a  eonnet  of  that  tale!  Nettie 
thanked  him  aj^ain*  and  lanphed 
heartily  again.  He  laughed  as  well,  — 
offered  to  take  her  parcels,  but  she 
declinr!(l»  —  and  she  forged  on  her  way, 
and  he  on  his, 

Wl*ere  she  went,  slie  did  not  and 
does  not  know.  Why  she  went,  she 
hardly  knew.  Only,  at  last,  she  was 
all  wronjx.  She  came  into  an  empty 
street ;  that  must  be  wrong !  Still 
she  hurried  thronj^h  it,  to  see  that, 
right  and  left,  as  the  square  ended, 
she  was  blocked  by  fire,  or  by  sraoke 
which  she  dared  not  pass.  Back  by 
the  way  she  came!  "Yes:  this  i» 
right.  Thii?  is  the  broken  elm-tree  I 
noticed.  But,  no !  it  is  not  right. 
I  never  Raw  that  hogshead  in  the 
roatL  God  help  me  !  Wliat  i«  rijjjht  ? 
That  smoke  is  too  thick  to  charge. 
Back  here  ?  No  !  that  is  all  tm  ft\r 
gone.  Could  I  Imre  crossed  hack, 
and  found  Clark  Street?  Ought  I 
not  to  have  held  by  the  wagon  ?  ^* 
Stilli  she  dill  not  surrender  the  pic- 
ture. No  !  nor  did  she  lose  her  bead. 
The  loneliness  was  the  worst.  How 
she  got  there,  she  did  not  know. 
And  clearly,  that  street  has  wholly 
abandoned*  At  tlftt  instant,  one  puff 
of  wind  revealed  to  her  the  retreating 
line  of  wajjonjs,  on  one  of  the  north- 
ward avenue}^.  Only  a  moment ; 
but  enough  for  Nettie.  She  sprang 
into  the  smoke  cloud,  holding  her 
breath,  ami,  with  her  eycRs  shut, 
plunged  on,  running  ii8  fast  as  she 
could  run  with  thd  picture.  She 
smelt  such  smoke  as  she  never  smelt 
before,  but  she  tried  not  to  breathe. 
Nor  was  thin  In  vain  f  forty  paces  of 
such  running  was  enough.  The  air 
cleared ;  she  was  withio  twenty  paces 
now  of  the  wagons ;  one  rusli  more,  and 
then  the  picture-frame  struck  on  some 
corner  of  a  fence,  and'SeUx^feW^V^^ 


less,  and  for  one  instant 
the  ground. 


ilMl 


Meanwhile,  ^lark    had   ftnmi  At 
Johnsonian  Lilirary  in  very  dii^^Trst 
plight  frc»m  what  he  expect€d-   ^'^^oi 
fatal   shaft   had    lighted  early  tn  i 
wheelwright's  shop,  jost  oppoaatt  M' 
institution;   and,  at  tk«  iDomfot  if 
Mark^s  arrival,  this  shop  was  in  (iMX9^ 
What  a  pity  he  had  let  H<rT*np  l^a^ 
him  !    for  by  this  time  there  vetn 
enough  volunteers  to  be  tvctbii 
the  work  of  carrying  out  MS8.,  im 
and  fltich  other  trt?asurefl  as  Mark 
were  most  valuable  of  alt ;  or  t» 
them  to  shelter,   if  in   thi« 
fire  there   were  shelter.      It 
early  in  the  night ;  but  thepv 
were  out  and  at  work,  were 
too  eagerly  for  their  own    "* 
mudi  heed  to  medals  or  t- 
Neither  for  love  nor  for   mi^ 
Mark  find  wagoner  to  help  h;i- 
little  range  through  which  h* 
to  try.     Ready  money,  ifi  ^      '   ' 
none;  having  carefully  I 
and    jiocket^book    at  home 
and  Hornet  started  j  and  th^. 
credit  was  worthless.     Two  or 
•light  handcarts    nnd  a  whfH^lhifiv^ 
he  did  impn^ss.     He   and  twool 
trustees,  white*head*?d  old  rlert^rmi^ 
and   Miss  Baylies,  the    assistant  ts 
the  school   hard  by^   did    yeonna^ 
work  with  these  in  the  little  !■       ' 
had.     But  this  was  little  fn- 
within  an  hnur  after  M 
ance^  the  gutters  of  tht    j 
had  caught  the  flames,  the  Ijtr 
on  the  roof  was  on  fi :  ' 

hour  more,  ^fark  an 
driven,  beaten,  (torn  the  tieJd.  A  #uk- 
ly  carriagtj  with  a  span  of  8mix>th,higk* 
bred  horses,  was  piled  full  of  thi>  maatt* 
scripts  an<!  '  ' 
her  one,  n 
^*Qf«<ii  \\.  \.<(:v\u£££^%siAJl^  £tom  tfai 


Six  of  Ohm  bf  Malf  a  Bosm  of  Oi  OAer.        71S 


itim 


«falU«llMd 


soogbt 


I  wh^m  MmA  wimU  ga 
Am  ht  Imj 

tOOf  Wttll  111 

L  ojpliwitiialAfttenk 

Bevai  fn^  he  oBvJd  find 

thej  were^     It   wms  still 

tbe  mtglit.    Of   CKwxse,  the 

at  reader  tki&ks  he  wiH  go  fiv 

>id  Ike  D0t  mile  U>  Ji 

_mmxietmf  Wcseaei  liii 

;  lit  did  not  go  lor  J«m. 
llM«gh^  Jane  wcU-bol- 
» can  for  b«xKl£  Fer- 
^  thftt  Unl  pazt  of  Ezie 
Mi  dsBgar  t^aa  die 
»;  orperbifs  he  pro- 
lliottKht  tlii^  and  tcttUjt 
'lat  if  buj  kmnn 
^  he  glioiild  Defver 
oil ;  tliat  if  Nettie  were 
Ukioa,  hk  life  voiuld  doI  be 
lirmg.  For  mj  part,  I  Uitiik 
ami  of  fire  rereakd  a  gre^ 
:ieople  to  tLeiiDielTes.  I  think 
rms  a  great  deal  of  time,  while ' 
wrre  on  the  tooU  of  houdes,  or 
in  the  nigh t-air  tinder  the  skj^ 

r^  h*xntsd  a  great  deal  that 
else  could  bare  taught  them. 
I  I  am  sure :  that  when  Msak 
lie  aaw  that  the  Julinsonian 
le  maas  of  ruin,  be  numbed  to 
HoD§e  hj  the  shortest 
K?  could  find  open.  He  never 
!it  of  Rachel  Ilollev,  whom 
i  thought  he  ought  to  think 
'kOit  think,  more  than  a  mo> 
r^i  .r  ana  Bargeaay  who  liad  been 
o  him  and  good  to  him^  he 
It  of  Nettie  Sylva,  liccause  he 
iier  life  wa^  the  other  half  of 
i^*-thae  If  be  could  save   her 


gBBau      Ita    v^ite 

i^  with  tka    vtAmdi»i 

ICadicmld  at# 

Ilia  mi;  %«t  tba  bttUiBS 
f&ngad.  Ho«r  Utila  vlifla 
ba  had  left  Br.  STlrm*«  pjaajanl 
tn  Ifaa  eomar  of  the  foatth 
1  He  luabid  in.  He  waa  «r- 
dmd  back,  and  bad  la  abar.  Bol 
orieia  waai  for  littia;  iba  boiiaa  vaa 
vafl-otgli  amplT,  for  its  lata  waa  taa 
cettaiD;  and  >(ark  was  *  in  agahl, 
aad  in  iba  doetor'a  pouior.  Tbm 
waa  Ilia  €Opj  of  Bfat  Haita  on  tba 
Ublr,  which  aba  had  read  from  Utft 
night.  Mark  aaised  it,  and  pnt  it  in 
his  |>ocket.  There  were  tba  loaaboda 
Mra.  Htihliard  had  sent  bar.  Ibak 
seized  them.  Conld  it  ba  that  anj 
diance  hail  neglected  her  aad  tba 
doctor?  Ue  tried  tha  doora  frooi 
the  parlor,  Tl»e  doetorV  Moni  waa 
empty*  He  knocked  and  kn^x^ked 
at  the  other  door.  *'  Nettie  !  Nettie !  ** 
No  answer.  Ha  tarned  the  key,  — 
be  rushed  in,  to  nit^et  a  column  of 
smoke  which  blinded  bim.  But  Mark 
had  tried  smoke  before,  that  night. 
Down  on  hi^  knees,  be  cn*pt  across  the 
room,  and  was  right ;  for  there  was  a 
little  Epace  from  which  the  smoka 
rose.  He  held  hia  breath  till  ba 
pulled  both  pillows  from  the  beil. 
Certainly  no  one  was  there.  But 
could  he  find  bis  way  bm>k  to  tbo 
door?  He  could  not  staud.  Ha 
could  turn  to  the  place  where  be 
thought  it  was^ — but  when*  it  waa 
not.  The  door  waa  a  wash*«tand. 
**I  fihall  be  dead,  in  tan  ac^conds,** 
said  ^tark  to  himai&lt     Uul   uv  ^^% 


I 


714        Six  of  One  by  Half  a  Dozen  of  the  Other. 


I 


aecoBdfl  lie  had  cruwled  to  the  door, 
was  in  the  parlor  again^  was  in  the 
draught  of  a  broken  window,  and  was 

safe. 

He   was  down   stuTs    again.     He 

waa  on  tlfe  West  Side  apaiu.  He  was 
on  the  Kinzie-street  bridge  when  he 
first  saw  sunlight.  He  walked  througli 
Kinzie  Street,  meeting  new  crowds  of 
fujyitives  debouching  from  the  south. 
He  hat]  ronie  north  because  a  porter 
he  ha^i  found  in  the  street  had  de- 
clared tliat  Dr.  Sylva  went  north: 
which  waa  true.  Among  seventy-five 
thousiujd  people,  Mark  waa  looking 
in  every  blackened  face,  to  see  if  it 
were  the  doctor  or  were  Nettie*  If  he 
met  any  man  he  ever  saw  before,  he 
asked  fnr*Dr,  Sylva  or  for  Nettie. 
He  nislied  down  one  square  and 
another,  till  he  met  the  line  of  fire. 
He  cro.^sed  back  and  forward,  through 
every  street  which  took  the  line  of 
fugitives.  Church  after  church  ho 
triedy  where  people  hud  sought  sanc- 
tuary. And  iio  wa»  it,  that  makuig  a 
short  cut,  where  he  thought  no  one 
blocked  the  way,  he  saw  a  woman 
emerge  from  the  smoke,  heavily  bur- 
den fd,  —  he  saw  her  trip,  and  fall 
upon  the  ground  senselesa.  He  ran 
to  her,  and  liiVed  her  gently,  and 
wiped  her  hair  from  her  face,  and 
he  knew  he  hod  Nettie  Sylva  in  hia 
arms ! 


It  is  a  hard  thing  to  keep  up  the 
chronology  of  such  chaos  as  this,  in 
which  few  men  looked  at  their  watches, 
and  of  whicli  the  elnef  time-marks 
are  the  moments  when  the  water 
failed^  when  the  gas-works  gave  out, 
and  when  the  sun  rose.  We  have 
still  to  tell  what  became  of  Horace 
Van  Zand  t,  whom  we  left  crossing 
Kinzie-street  bridge,  westward,  to  look 
for  Jane  Burgess ;  who,  as  he  hojied, 
was  half  a  mile  e:uua%  \i*i\niv^\v\ni» 


Slow  worky  indeedj  Aui^ 
sea  of  fire  on  that  mocn!^ 
Horace  was  steady  as  he  w& 
ous,     St iU,  long  before  he  ha 

pound  to  the  south  side  ot 
every    bridge    and   ere^ 
the   north  side   was  imfl 
every  man  he  questione 
that  the  part  of  Erie 
asking  for  had  gone, 
did  Horace  persevere.  A  diti 
could  be  crossed,  if  he  h;i 
Swim  it  he  did  not;  tu 
an  Irish  boatman  to  can 
the    mouth    of    the   riif 
pressed  his  way  up  on  the~l 
Nay,  he  came  to  the  hull^gr 
he  known  it^   some  two  h< 
Jane  and  the  children 

He  stooped  down  and  I 
jam  ping-jack  some  ehil 
there.     Surely  he  had  , 
ace  on  that  painted  fac^l 

It  %vas  madne^  to  askl 
if  he  had  seen  a  party  of  la 
th  ree  small  ch  ildi*eii.  Miid:i 
Horace  asked  and  asked  i 
received  answers,  now  wiW 
coherent.  They  sent  him h 
him  thither ;  but  there  was 
Bardies  and  no  Jane  Btirj 
found  by  this  question ii 
was  beaten  to  the  river 
lake,  by  failure  and  by^ 
last,  unwillingly,  after  tr; 
scow  and  that  schooner,  wj 
take  shelter  himself  on  a 
that  was  putting  out  to 
was  he  relieved  here  from  tl 
edness  that  had  surrouDdp<< 
the  shore*  Children  witi: 
mothers,  mothers  without  I 
dren,  were  piled  together  on 
dock.  Water,  of  course,  the 
vided  them ;  but  a  little  1 
which  was  gone  before  nig! 
the  edible  provision.  Am 
uv^t  I    She  lay  at  anchor  i 


nia^t 
brlH 


o/  One  by  ffaJf  a  Dozen  of  the  Other.        715 


lel  fire.  *  Then  came  rain  ! 
m  rain  !  But  how  wouid 
Led,  half-<rlothod  children 
nbg?  Still,  we  do  live 
And  then  snch  wretch- 

am  »o  hungry  !  Oh,  dear ; 
igty!'*  The  captain  at 
up   hia   anchor,  and   ran 

the  lee  of  one  of  the 
una.     f*  For  the  loTe  of 

ku  give  these  habies 
t?"  And  Jane  Bar- 
own  into  the  tng  ono  of 
,Te«  which  Mike's  fore- 
packed  in  the  hig  basket 
never  abandoned.  And 
Eandt^  little  gnessing  what 
[id  his  prayer,  eanght  the 
a  uiinate,  was  dividing  it 
e  twenty  starving  little 
innte  more^  and   he   had 

e  steamer  3  side.     !No ! 
he  found.     It  was  a 

'ho  could  provide  some 

10  women  who  seemed 
f  engineer*^  rtjom  of  the 
tow.  Up  and  down,  baeU 
oraee  passed  on  hh  work 
And  it  wa3  not  till  he  had 
ody  decently  comfortable 
be  scrambled   bac^k  upon 

He  passed  aft,  where 
^up  of  children  lying  list- 
I  offered  a  little  boy  the 
mping-jack.  *'  Wiry,  it  is 
■|>jack  I  See  here^  mam- 
iMrla  jumping^jack !  ** 
turned^    and   Jane 

re»t  Jane,  is  it  you  ?  " 


I  the  Oreyford  girls  ? 
and  Kettie  we  have  ac- 
el  QB  go  back  to  Each  el, 
Worboise's   board  in  g- 

I  tinderstood   that  she 


was  on  the  very  edge  of  one  of  the 
greatest  events  in  history,  and  was 
seeing  it  almost  aa  little  as  if  it  had 
been  in  Moscow.  She  eould^  and 
did,  run  to  the  top  of  the  house,  and 
see  a  lurid  canopy  of  smoke.  Sha 
could  and  did  make  her  way  up, 
with  Mr*  Fay^s  assistance,  against 
the  current  of  fugitives,  aa  hr  almost 
a^  Harrison  Street,  and  saw  some- 
thing of  tlie  methods  of  the  fight 
But  she  saw  the  flight  more  than  the 
fight ;  and  Mrs.  Worboise  and  Ra- 
chel, and  all  that  household,  instant- 
ly understood  the  emergency,  and 
the  fluty  next  their  hands. 

**  My  dear  child,  this  is  sure :  they 
will  need  something  to  eat,  whatever 
else  they  need,  or  whatever  else  they 
save.'- 

This  was  Mrs.  Worboiae's  simple 
statement,  founded  on  a  profound 
philosophy.  By  *'they,"  the  good 
soul  meant  the  human  family  in 
geneml. 

Her  washing-boilers  were  scalded 
out,  —  as  if  they  needetl  it !  —  and  as 
many  hams  put  in  as  they  would 
hold.  With  white  arms  and  sturd}-, 
she  mixed  self-raised  biscuits,  and 
plied  that  day  her  ovens.  Open 
doors  in  that  house  that  day  long; 
no  sign  of  flight  Ko  roan  nor 
woman  stopped  to  ank  a  question, 
but  was  asked  to  eat,  and  ate  to  the 
full.  The  water  hail  given  way ; 
but  Mrs.  Worboise  had  a  little 
**  nigger  boy,"  —  as,  in  face  of  better 
light,  she  obstinately  called  him, — 
whom,  by  threats,  briber,  and  prom- 
ises, she  kept  plying  to  the  lake-shora 
for  water;  and  her  old  New  York 
filters  did  the  rest.  When  she  got  a 
little  ahead  with  her  bread  and  ham, 
she  devoteil  her  attention  to  bedding. 
I  dare  not  tell  how  many  **  shake- 
downs^* she  and  Rachel  and  Mrs. 
Flinlimmon  con:stT\icled  ou  \asid\tk^% 


Six  of  One  by  Half  a  Dozen  of  the  Other. 

"  Wlir,  Mr.  Flemtog!  bB 


and  floors.  Mrs*  Worboise  could 
have  liaulcd  a  Bteaincr  into  action  if 
alie  had  been  bidden ;  »ho  could  have 
sculled  a  scow,  had  she  been  bidden  J 
she  could  have  wiped  a  maiden's 
smoky  tears,  had  she  been  hidden ; 
she  could  have  Jain  out  on  the  roof 
of  the  Job  n son i an,  with  a  liand-ho»e, 
bad  she  been  bidden;  she  would  have 
added  empha^^is  to  a  battering-ram, 
driving;  in  a  prison-dcMir,  ba<l  she 
been  bidrlen.  As  it  happened,  she 
was  bidden  to  provide  for  a  stream 
of  faint  and  roving  fugitives;  and 
reverently  and  faithfully,  hopefully 
and  lovingly,  she  did  that  duty.  Of 
course  she  did  it  well* 

Whether  it  were  morning  or  after- 
noon, I  do  not  know;  nor,  I  think^ 
did  any  of  the  parties  know.  But^ 
&a  the  day  passed,  Mrs.  Worboise, 
standing  ou  the  door-steps,  gaw  the 
approach,  on  the  street,  of  a  long 
express- wagon,  crowded  with  little 
girls,  friglitened  and  crying,  or 
sometimes  dumb  and  stolid  w*ith 
terror.  She  rushed  down  to  ask 
where  they  were  going. 

**  God  knows!  "  said  Jeff  Fleming, 
who  was  on  the  high  seat,  carefully 
driving,  **  They  are  going  wherever 
there  is  something  to  eat,  and  a  bed 
for  the  poor  things  to  lie  in/* 

By  the  divine  instinct  of  his 
heaUhy  life,  Jeff,  who  had  sought 
vainly  all  day  for  the  "  Greyford 
girls/*  had  lighted  on  these  inmates 
of  the  oqihan  asylum. 

"Why,  the  little  darlings!"  cried 
the  good  woman.  **  Bring  them  in^ 
bring  them  in  I  We  are  all  ready 
for  them  here.  Bring  them  in.** 
And  by  this  time  Rachel  and  Mrs. 
Plinlimmoii  were  at  the  tail  of  the 
wagon,  and  had  each  a  child  in  her 
arms, 

"  Why,  Mrs.  Worboise  I  who  sent 
you  her©  ?  *' 


So  Jeff  Fleming  depo^ti 
diarge  with  Mrs,  Worboiiie, 
ment  more,  and  a  fellow  i 
stopped  to  ai^k  for  the  use 
Ivagon;  and  Jeff  let  him  ha 
his  promise  to  bring  it  back  t 
fall.  Jeff  had  hired  it  fru©  I 
not  who,  for  a  hundred  and  1 
lars  down,  on  promise  to 
next  morning  to  he  ksiewM 
Jeff  haii  not  tasted  food  sine 
Cass  Comerj^,  twetity-fourhoui 
and  he  was  not  sorry  to  smell 
coffee,  nor  to  cat  into  the  go( 
bam. 

**I)ear  Rachel,"  said  he, 
rage  of  hunger  was  a  lii 
and  after  each   child 
s<jme   improvised   night 
muoh  has  passed  since  I 

Yes,  indeed !  how  much  bju 
And  as  the  afternoon  waatv: 
the  evening  gathered,  and 
turned  back  from  this  or  tha 
how  they  two  were  revealij 
selves  and  to  each 
honest  and  brave 
seemed  to  Hachel,  thoi 
not  expound  science  li 
talk  sentiment  like  Mark*  C 
she  did  not  say  it  to  heft 
what  a  perfect  rest  it  was  til 
talk  with  this  hearty,  stra| 
friend,  and  not  to  be*  in  tern 
of  Horace's  crotchets,  or 
flights  into  the  skj, 
passed  on.  There  wi 
about  a  prairie  fire  sout 
a  mercy  Jeff  was  here! 
came ;  Jeff  returned  few 
noitring:  all  was  well 
lie  kept  wondering, 
where  Nettie  was  j  and 
Bardies  family  were  s 
whom  ho  was  betroth" 
3^XL«^  to  whom  ho  had 


^veali^ 

mJH 
hoi^H 
likcH 

xk.    C 

o  hen 

was  ti1 
»  sira| 
u  tern 

1 


Six  of  One  hif  Half  a  Dozen  of  the  Other.         717 


did  Dot  go  again  to  look  for 

Hachei  wondered  why.     Per- 

i  knew  l>ett«r  than  Rachel  did. 

f,  he  was  determined,  that»  if 

!  came  that  night  to  Bacheli  he 

[  tiot  hi?  Lu  away. 

o'clock  I      Mr.    Plinlimmon 
in.     They  say  it  is  all  done. 
SI0   iMitrols    ou    the    streets* 
is  in  command.     The 
are  all  asleep;   but   no  one 
ats  to  go  to  bed.     HaLf-pa&t 
A  earrisge  wheek  at  the  door. 
ring  and  knock,  and  the  door 
Tlie  parlor  door,  of  course, 
en  t*^,  and  Mark   Hinsdale 
i  lifts  Xettie  into  the  room. 
r,   dear  X«ttie  I   in  it    yon  ? 
bt  on  the  sofa  here ! ''     And 
is  caring  for  Nettie  with  all 
and  sweetness  of  her 
jjr  life, 
wh^re  did  you  oome  from, 
J>ear  old    fellow !    how  are 
Tliis  fmm  Mark,  without  one 
bt  ibat  this  dear  Nettie,  whom 
r  long  be  had  fought  for,  worked 
fur^  and  almost  died  for,  was 
by  ererybody  to  belong  to 
•  aid  fellow  ■'  who  stood  be- 
bim.     Nor  do  I  know  that  JeflT 
!jt  of  it  more  than  he.      The 
had  tanght  Mark  a  great  deal. 
taoght  Nettie  a  great  deal     I 
I  Jeff  ha*!  learned  liis  lesson  too. 
di  they  ha^l  to  talk  !   There 
til  tug  to  telh     How  much 
Torboise   made    them    drink  I 
lach  camphor  slie  brought  for 
f^  for^rhead,    where   the  bruiae 
hsktl   one.     How  Nettie  made 
agh  !     And  then,  again,  how 
|ihem  cry  !     j^frs.  Worboise 
othtng  with  them.     It  was 
limmon   who   appeared   at 
,  And  sent  them  all  to  be(L 

ay   tnaniing    they   all    slept 


late.  No  wonder.  **  Dear  children," 
said  Mrs.  Worboise ;  ^'  they  shall  have 
breakfast  by  themselves.'*  And  in  a 
little  back  parlor  they  four  met,  late 
in  the  morning.  Still  so  much  to  tell ! 
Nettie  knew  she  must  have  a  private 
talk  with  Jeff:  she  must  tell  the 
honest  £bUow  how  wicked  and  how 
foolish  she  had  been.  And  Jeff  knew 
he  must  have  a  private  talk  with 
Nettie.  He  must  tell  her  that  he 
could  not,  in  honor  to  her,  marry  her. 
But  Nettie  and  Rachel  came  into  the 
room  together,  as  fresh  and  neat  as 
if  there  had  never  been  any  fire* 
And  Jeff  and  Mark  were  there  before 
them,  and  could  not  ask  either  of 
them  to  go  away.  And  it  was  not 
awkward,  after  all  **  Jeff  is  so  good- 
natured,*'  said  Nettie  to  herself.  "  He 
will  not  mind,  and  I  can  tell  him 
by  and  by." 

So  they  lingered  over  the  breakfast, 
as  surely  iio  other  four  in  Chicago 
lingered  that  morning.  Did  Mrs. 
Worboise  guess  ?  I  do  not  know.  I 
think  she  did.  She  loved  Rachel  with 
her  heart's  love.  She  loved  Horace 
too  ;  and  yet,  as  she  washed  one  little 
orphan  after  another,  she  said  again 
and  again,  even  aJoud  to  the  orphan ?>, 
"  She  will  do  a  hundred  times  better 
with  that  honest  Jeff  Fleming  than 
she  would  ever  do  with  Horace.'*  And, 
though  no  one  said  this  in  the  break- 
room,  perhaps  they  all  felt  it  too.  And 
Nettie,  guilty  Nettie,  pretty  Nettie, 
flirting  Nettie,  —  she  had  not  gone 
through  storm  and  fire  without  learn- 
ing what  she  knew  well  enough  before ; 
only  this  time  she  knew  it  perfect. 
She  knew  that  such  a  treasure  aa  the 
love  and  life  of  Mark  Hinsdale  waa 
not  a  treasure  to  be  fooled  with,  or 
thrown  away^ 

No  wonder  that  the  coffee  cooled, 
and  the  breakfast  was  long.  But  it 
ended.     It  ended  when  the  door  flew 


718 


Living  in  Germany. 


N 
N 

^ 


N 


open,  and  Jane  and  Horace  both 
rushed  in*  Jane  all  in  tears,  but 
handisomer  than  ever,  Horace,  tat- 
teredt  wonij  and  dirty,  hut  happier 
and  prouder  than  he  had  evet  been  in 
his  life. 

He  had  had  a  chance  to  tell  Jane 
how  he  had  sought  for  her  from  mid- 
night of  Sunday  till  sunrise  of  Tuea- 
day, — sought  her  with  tears  and 
with  prayers. 

And  Jane  had  shown  to  him  the 
one  treasure  she  had  saved  from  Erie 
Street.     It  was  the  little  bear. 


Had  these  young  people  trad 
the  first  propinquities,  hnil  u 
the    pMjopl^   of  Greyford  pur 
they  would  hare  tru>ted  wning| 
would  have  lived  for  miscTy, 

Had  they  trastt^  to  the  "J 
quitiea  *'  again,  had  they  let  tli 
dents  of  life  pair  them,  theyi 
have  trusted  wrongf. 

A  terrible  crisis  tore  away 
all  etiquettes,  all  falsehoods* 
they  trusted  to  the  divine 
their  own  hearts  \  and  they 
for  this  life,  and  IbreTer. 


THK   END, 


LIVING  IN  6EKMANY. 


Ik  these  restless  days  of  interna- 
tional intercourse  and  cosmopolitan 
culturej  thouaand^  of  persona  in  Amer- 
ica are  making  eager  inquiries  about 
the  costs  and  advantages  of  living 
for  a  time  in  Europe.  Eagerly  de- 
vouring books  of  travel  "and  letters 
from  abroad,  they  find  in  them,-^ 
ah\s !  just  what  they  knew  before. 
Why  does  not  the  writer  give  rae  some 
positive,  available  information  about 
food^  rents,  schools,  servants'  wages, 
methofl  of  instruetion  ?  I  know  al- 
ready that  the  Sis  tine  Madonna  is  a 
vision  from  out  of  heaven  itself,  and 
that  the  vault  of  Cologne  Cathedral 
descends  upon  one  in  palpable  weigljt 
of  une,  and  bows  the  head  to  the 
earth.  Wliat  transport  it  must  be  to 
visit  the  haunts  of  Goethe,  Schiller, 
Lesaing  and  Herderj  I  have  long  ex- 
perienced in  my  day-dreams^  But 
can  I  afford  the  costs  of  a  sojourn  in 
Europe  ?  can  my  John  and  Harry 
and  Susan  and  Mary  get  cheap,  and, 
at  the  same  time,  thorough  instruc- 
tion ?  Can  I  escape  the  exhausting 
wear  and  tear  of  housekeeping  life  in 
America?     la  tW  dim^Jte  WsAXlv^^ 


the  food  good,  the  0oeti 
the  language  difficult  ? 
things,  or  else  for«*ver  after 
peace. 

Now,  this  is  jttst  the  class 
tions  to   which  I  propo?©  to 
myself.     I  vrtlte  for  |'  i 

income,  who  wii*h  to  y  1 

money  than  they  can  l:  '  i  « 
more  leisure,  more  acccjsi  iv  j 
music,  lectures,  libraries,  mod 
tages  of  education  for  their  el 

The  first  thing  I  would  wri 
siiL'h  persona  is  to  free  thrij 
from  all  extravagant  illusiooft 
mistaken  impressions  have  gin 
of  the  almost  laugh ah)«*  che«| 
every  thing  in  Europe.  A 
professor  is  suppose*!  to  b«  I 
reivr  a  family  of  sixteen,  aoa 
a  ponderous  library,  and  Ml 
European  reputation,  -  i 

doUars  a  year.     A  l.i 
count   is    traditionally  riviitt 
power  to  wear  immaculate  ki 
champagne,  ride  hiji  own  hi 
frequent  the  festive  see 
burg  and  Baden-Baden 
amount     Aias !    the  da^ 


710 


eotdd  Iwve  tlw  xw  «f  lA 

k  wImIc  emliarf  vwU, — 
ideoiraialM.    E^erf 
1  cnulied  and  wMbea  o«t  «r  Cat- 
qnmru  hm  swtated  jas*  so 
0O&  of  emj  HBf^iA 
FMderick  d'lKL 
^  %  wood  &ct  yel  i»  W 
TboiMmiiik 

■dury  fetlovs  limre  got  iMld 

Mune  blight  idea  wittdt  ve 

laaeied  was  eottrel/  original 

InwandK  idea  of  ooouag 

Gennaoy,  and   getting  ^roj 

iJbr  not b log.    A  plagoe  tm  thtir 

flow  tbey  twann! — Eagjiaii, 

EttaaiaDs — like  the  flka 

bfokf^n  merchauUy  anxioaa 
ileas  tpidstei^  eoraiQra&t*look* 
Bta  with  hrooda.af  jeUow-- 
LdbJldreat 

the  pest  of  the  matter  is, 
^all  ^^at  to  go  to  the  best 
attisMitiine  places.      Thej 
i  m  Dreaden^  foraooth  !  where 
ajr  dkport  themselves  on  the 
i  Uecimoe^  or  stand  dninb   with 


[imycm  and  mt^t 


Holbeiu'a  ^Iddoana  or 

It'a   MdDoah.    » They  must 

Iowa  in  Heidelberg,  where  they 

kre  the  most  marvellous  ruin 

for   their   daily  eiercise- 

ot  enjoy  the  fascinating  ram- 

>  the  loTely  ralley  of  the  Neckar. 

I  less  Camooa  than  Rubimstein 

i^  maat  bo  trusted  with  su- 

dg  the    scales  and  gamuts 

timelddd  and  soulless  Kebecca 

O/  cotirae  all  this  is  very  ex- 

sg^  and  indicates  intolerable 

»tioo  on   their  part*     Berlin, 

Hoidflberg,  Munich,  should 


of  Hm 
il  ocrlaiB  inevitabla 
manltoi.  *  Wbcre  tlie  carcaaa  j%  ihate 
ate  ike  vvkmn§  galbend  togelher.^ 
■rfiH^  ciRM,  Ml  ef 
and  «boic«  tidbits, 
tike  Engliih  mmi  Aaierican  aojonnieri^ 
opiiied  te  be.  Fiobi  afar  is  their 
acmal  aceoted.  Swaima  of  agents, 
T9mt)tm  of  k>dging%  tndeainen,  and 
tiackfCT  aooa  darken  ifae  air.  wheel* 
tag  xmnid  in  erer  narrowing  circlea, 
and  irith  far*darting  eye  watching  for 
the  fitting  moment  to  pounct*  down 
and  daim  oonimon  share  in  the  sftoil. 
Or,  la  drop  metaphor,  here  are  s<»i 
many  ignorant,  unfledged  foreigners. 
Tbey  are  eager  for  rooms,  eervanta, 
teachers,  ^ley  are  shouldering  and 
elbowing  one  another  to  get  the  choice 
of  theste^  Many  of  them  are  rich, 
and  can  pay  good  prices.  Go  to  I  let 
ns  pot  up  wages,  tuition,  rent  No 
sooner  said  than  done*  And  hencei 
the  days  of  ridiculous  chenpness  are  * 
over.  The  grand  laws  of  pilitical 
economy  are  established  and  freshly 
illustrated;  but  the  luckless  id  divid- 
ual takes  his  grind  between  the  up- 
per and  nether  millstone. 

Still,  lining  is  much  cheaper  in 
Germany  than  at  home.  What  hue 
been  said  above  is  mainly  by  way  of 
caution  against  romantic  rxpecfations. 
Moderate  anticipations  will  not  ijo 
brought  to  grief.  A  dollar  hero  will 
buy  a  good  deal  more  music,  m«uit| 
art,  clothing,  instruction,  than  ta 
America.  How  much  more,  will  oome 
out  in  the  sequel, 

ThS  ^rst  thing  to  bo  done  by  Uia 


720 


Living  in  Germany. 


I 


individual  or  family  coming  out  to 
Germany  for  a  protracted  stay  is  to 
dec  ide  upon  t  H  e  pi  ace  o  f  soj  on  r  n.  This, 
of  course,  must  be  determined  by  the 
ends  each  has  in  view.  Berlin,  Dres- 
den^  Leipsicy  and  Stuttgart  are  the 
best  places  for  musical  instruction, 
Kone  but  the  large*jt  cities  will  satisfy 
those  who  want  to  see  a  great  variety 
of  life,  and  be  where  kings  drive 
abroad^  great  military  displays  are 
common,  balls,  operas,  and  ballets 
abound*  If  children  are  to  be  educated, 
the  question  of  schools  ia  the  all-im- 
portant one  ;  and  on  this  point  some- 
thing will  be  said  farther  on,  If 
thorough  mastery  of  the  German  Ian* 
guage  is  the  predominant  idea,  tem- 
porary isolation  from  Americans  and 
Englishmen  is  the  iirst  necessity  \ 
and  this  is  best  secured  in  a  secluded 
village,  particularly  if  a  man  has  a 
large  Newfoundland-dog  sort  of  socia- 
bility in  his  nature,  and  is  an  en  do  wed 
with  one  of  tliose  iron  wills  which  can 
create  a  solitude  for  itself  in  the  mid- 
dle of  a  mob. 

The  important  question  of  place 
decided,  the  next  consideration,  for 
those  who  prefer  to  keep  house,  is 
the  choice  of  lodgings.  Few  families 
in  German  cities  occupy  a  whole 
building,  as  with  us  ;  apartments  are 
rented  in  flats  of  three,  six,  a  dozen, 
twenty  rooms.  Printed  notices,  hung 
out  over  doors  and  windows,  an- 
nouQce  where  furuislnfd  lo<lginga  are 
to  be  had.  And  now  one's  bewilder- 
ment begins. 

There  is  something  appalling  in 
the  impenetrable  fog  of  ignorance  and 
surmise  that  shuts  down  around  the 
stranger  in  a  strange  place.  He 
knows  there  are  true-hearted  and 
charming  people  there,  varied  re- 
sources of  life  and  cheer,  room3  that 
will  grow  dear  to  him  through  the 
hauae-warm\ng  ol  atud^,  mvith,  and 


pjiy 


love,  Six  months  later  1 
where  he  can  look  baclj 
vista  of  familiar  and  fri« 
and  hours  of  genial,  socid 
But  as  yet  the  gray  mist 
lift.  He  must  aiake  up  hii  i 
sail  through  hi^  fog  period  ill 
he  can  see  no  twenty  feet  ahiq 
tl)at  he  has  at  least  his  li 
crew  ahoard,  though  for 
his  own  barque  is  shut  in 
sight  of  all  other?,  and 
are  shut  out  from  him.  Sti| 
phantoms  will  loom  up  <ml 
roist5,  and  how  dreary 
such  navigation  is.  He 
ty  perilous  mistakes.  He  maj 
hands  of  a  shark  of  a  landlon 
dismal  or  unhealthy  quart| 
out  when  too  Late  he  mtg 
done  fifty  times  better.  By  a] 
therefore,  let  him  avail  hi( 
the  experience  of  some  Ameri 
ily  living  in  the  place, 
him  a  letter  of  intrtvlu 
native  who  will  help  him 
But,  above  all,  let  him  fiincU 
amount  of  person.al  cxertioD.j 
tiresome  business,  this  I 
ing.  The  legs  ache  ot< 
of  stairs  to  bo  run  up  and 
brain  reels  over  the  hnndrcdn 
siderations  of  location,  air, 
convenience,  compamrivQ 
Stilly  there  is  too  much 
make  it  rational  to  takt 
weary  backs  or  ac!iing 
every  thing  that  is  off* 
decide  on  the  btoadedt  ind 
facta.  First  and  foremoeU  hi 
get  on  the  sunny  side  of  th< 
for  the  daylight  is  shorty 
heavens  are  leaden  in  a 
terj  and  at  best  an 
pine  w^ith  heart-break  after 
aut  brilliancy  of  his  own 
Weil,  Heaven  be  prai 
ings  are  at  Ijist  aeci 


Amen 
orb^ 

tm^9 

ftincS 
?rti0D.j 

:m 


Livinj  tn  Gtrmxauf. 


721 


etji  ^M-lMn»«  tad 

i  three  of  the  tn-eofie  «re 

litres   of   th«   witi»^mfi 

oa  th«  a(Ig««,  mud  uam  of  Hit 

is  sa^pidously   tHin,    are 

**Kow,  d^ar,*^  crie«   at 

peril aps   too  Idealistic  litift^ 

be    wipea   Iita    bewOdered 

bl  tia  go  Qp  and  refimli  mut- 

with  a  long,  glorious  morning 

the  njin9  of  Heidelberg  Ca&- 

Stit,  i>o:   I  cannot  enlarge  on 

I  promised  my  readers  to  tell 

tnaittlj  what  liea  outside  the 

beat  of  tbe  mere  sentimental 

Still,  outraged   human   na- 

at  least   its    parenthetical 

id  I  win  ju«t  fling  in  that 

a.Ti>j^  time  np  there,  e^^en 

Uie  ^tttn  roice  of  dutj  now 

we  to  shut  off  the  stream 

enthasiasm,  and  forsake 

,ed    towersj     broad,    sunny 

ari<l  frowning  battlement*,  for 

anrl  scrubbing  utensiK 
the  dwelling  is  secure^l.     It 
now,  90  come  in^  assured  of  a 
welcome^  and  look  around 
It  is  up  two  flights^  and 
»  parlor,  abo  used  aa  a 
three  good-sized  sleep- 
each  with  a  stove  a  kitch- 
M»rvant*s  room.     It  fronts 
in  the  healthiest  and  airiest 
f   :  r  v^rg,  and  looks  out 

-r*  [iill&.     Five    of  us 

it;     The   rooms  are  prettily 
WdA  neatly  furnished.     They 
«sr,  AS  primitively  innocent 
A9  Adam  and  Eve  were  of 
sore  and  except  strips  by 
l««,  and  a  single  piece  two 
omre  in  the  parlor.     The  cus- 
«f»em«  to  be  for  each  one  to 
ith  him  a  perambulatin<^  car- 
e  i>liapo  of  thick,  fleece-lined, 
^cd  sJippeea,  —  an  idea  eridently 


elo^ely  aaUatcd  witli  tbsl  af  tli*  aid 
lady,  wba,  to  »enra  Uie  chattna  of 
iBiisie  whererer  sIm  might  happen  ta 
bci,  wore  rings  on  her  fiofrra  and 
liells  on  her  toes.  We  pay  for  tb« 
lodgings,  indadtog  linen,  crockery, 
and  alt  other  household  neoesaities, 
twenty-foor  dollars  in  gold  per  month, 
nearly  three  hundred  dollars  per  year. 
Onr  sin^e  oerrant  —  a  most  excellent 
one — costs  ns  less  than  three  doUan 
a  nnonth.  ProTisions  average  aboat 
two-thirds  what  they  do  in  America. 
Clothing  does  not  cost  over  one-third 
as  much;  and  in  this  item,  parents 
who  have  large  broods  of  boys 
hard  on  the  knees  of  pantaloons,  or 
given  to  protruding  rapidly  outsida 
of  the  cuffs  of  their  jackets,  can 
confidently  rely  on  a  gratifying  saT* 
ing. 

Now,  at  last,  I  can  let  in  a  broad 
stream  of  sunshine  upon  the  hereto- 
fore somewhat  clouded  scene.  House* 
keeping  in  Germany  is  an  utterly 
different  affair  from  what  it  is  tn  *'  the 
land  of  the  free,  and  home  of  the 
brave. '*  I  have  long  been  persuaded 
that  the  erer-recurring  work  of  bak- 
ing bread  and  washing  clothes  is  in 
American  families  the  fly  in  the  oint- 
ment which  not  only,  to  pursue  the 
Hebrew  simile,  causes  the  whole 
house  to —  well,  say  smell  strongly  of 
soap-5ud5,  but  far  worse  than  this, 
demoraliies  to  the  foundation  even 
the  most  happily-constituted  cooks 
and  wives.  Clean  linen  and  domestic 
peace  cannot,  as  we  are  going  on«  be 
made  to  lie  down  in  peace  togethor. 
Social  reformers  who  deplore  the  fri** 
quency  of  divorce  in  our  land  had 
better  learn  where  to  aim  their  blows, 
if  they  would  accomplish  any  thing 
more  effective  than  merr  wailing,  and 
beating  the  air,  Wanhing  and  bak- 
ing an^  exaspemt  tug;  this  ii  an  ul- 
timate law  of  nature.    Exasperation 


22 


lAving  in  Germany, 


,  lias  in  all  ages  tended  to  act  disturb- 
^ingly  on  sweetness  and  serenity  of 
temper.  Logic  is  logic,  and  the  rest 
follows  of  itself.  But  here  in  Ger- 
many how  different.  Instead  of  the 
tcrax»er  of  cook  and  wife  being  put 
out,  the  washing  is  put  out.  And 
**  oh  I  the  difference  to  me,''  as  Wortls- 
worth  sings,  I  know  the  sacred  pri* 
vacies  of  the  human  heart  oUght  ever 
to  be  shrinkingly  veiled,  and  the  por- 
tals of  the  inner  sanctuary  be  thrown 
open  to  no  profane  and  vulgar  tread* 
But  I  do  feel  so  ranch  more  amiable, 
and  so  does  somebody  else ;  and  I  have 
felt  my  waning  life  fresh  greeted  with 
such  a  rose  and  lily  outburst  of  early 
June  passion  and  tenderness,  that  I 
cannot  lock  up  every  tiling  in  the 
sepulchre  of  a  cold  and  marble 
exterior. 

Then,  too,  the  old  home-spectre  of 
eternal  bread-baking,  gaunt  and  piti- 
less !  He,  too,  is  laid,  and  sent  where 
he  ought  to  be,  to  his  own  cavernous 
oven,  No  more  measuring  out  flour 
and  sifting  out  grubs ;  no  more  spoon- 
ing up  with  water,  and  raving  over 
sour  yeast;  no  more  rolling  up  the 
sleeves  to  tlie  elbows  like  a  prelimina- 
ry prize-fighter,  and  closing  in  for  a 
rough-and-tnmblc  roll-over-and-umier 
tussle  with  a  huge  bowlder  of  intract- 
able dough.  Only  a  low,  sweet  order 
to  the  haker*8  boy  to  bring  so  many 
rolls  and  so  much  brown  bread. 

Tims  at  the  very  outset  is  the  field 
cleared  of  the  worst  stumps.  What 
is  still  to  be  done  is  comparatively 
little.  Instead  of  a  whole  house,  up 
stairs  and  down  stairs  and  in  my  la- 
dy's chamber,  a  single  i!at  of  rooms 
is  all  that  needs  looking  to»  Bare 
floors,  witli  strips  by  the  beds  and  a 
ten-foot  square  of  carpet  in  the  par- 
lor, economize  amazingly  the  limited 
qnantimi  of  broom  and  carpet-sweep- 
er power  inhetent  in  \^ft  Itm^U  ^xm, 


and  effect  as  marked  % 
force  as  the  turbine  doei 
breast-wheel.  Cooking, 
bed- making  of  course  rei 
the  home  case  Bridget  McBi 
takes  the  job,  and  out  hew 
chen  Katxenellenbogen,  Coi 
the  two  as  beheld  in  the  f% 
of  life  and  action.  Whik 
thumps  along  like  an  ertcl 
in  petticoats,  slaps  down 
fell  crash  a  whole  set  of  era 
the  iron  sink,  burns  out  f 
stove  a  mouthy  creditably  j 
private  boardiug-houae  odi 
ings,  and  finally,  on  the  mi 
gestion  of  imprnvemcnt,  gta 
Uie  house  with  scurrilous  s 
second  moves  round  quiel 
a  bull's-eye  tumbler  as  thot 
Venice  glass,  keeps  i  t1 

to  retain  the  vital 
to  make  the  nicest   -1-^  1 
salads,  and  is  onlv  uir  ^  i  sj 
please  sufficiently  to  1-   ao| 
One  other  point  of  'li  m  rv  i(3 
arincheu  modestly  a-k-  Ur 
lars  a  month,  and  lives  01 
only  knows    what    in    thi 
food,    Bridget  roundly  ann 
if  you   do   not   give   her 
that  per  week,  she'll  quit 
ner.     And  yet  the  first  is 
the  superior  and  happier 

But  families  do  not  c 
Germany  simply  to  get  rid 
hold  wear  and  tear.  Th 
ought  to  be,  serious  ends. 
The  new  language  is  to 
and  the  way  opened  up 
tercourse  with  the  nati 
country  and  into  the  rich 
of  literature  and  science, 
dren  are  to  be  educated 
into  facility  in  speaking 
must  go  on  with  their  ariti 
gebra,  Latin,  Greek, 
the  very  outset  practical 


Living  in  Germany. 


723 


ittwmtered  which  drive  many 
to  the  borderd  of  despair, 
get  to  Germany,  and  you  will 
le  in  the  language  with  the 
lift  or  drink  it  in  with  the  beer, 
^  word  spoken  to  us  on 
of  the  water.  Sheerer 
is«  waa  never  uttered.  One 
ilenty  of  people  here  who  for 
is  and  even  years  have  respired 
but  Teutonic  oxygen,  and  have 
ily  gone  down  to  the  bottom  of 
rable  casks  of  Jager,  and  who 
onable  to  stagger  through  a 
sentencea  without  tumbling 
ime  •grammatical  gutter.  The 
p:inuloxical  as  it  may  sound, 
BfBt  rery  difficult  to  hear  any 
spokea  at  aD,  at  least  to  yoar^ 
'ot  only  are  there  swarms  of 
fcllow-coantrj^men  on  every 
Uot  every  waiter,  shopkeeper, 
oiU  you  short  in  your  first 
sentence,  and  begins  with  a 
Untifitied  smirk  to  speak  what  he 
:\  fiaished  specimen  of  yonr 
ague.  In  abject  mortifica- 
«*y  to  youraelf,  ** Heavens! 
e  auch  detestable  German^ 
is  creature  felt  authorized  to 
r  it  a  charity  to  substitute  this 
lingo  in  itis  stead  ?'*  In  point 
joQ  probably  made  out  much 
T-««  in  German  than  he  did  in  Eng- 
9;  mud  ytm  soon  find  that  the  only 
|r  is  to  run  such  fellows  high  and 
are,  and  bring  them  to  utter 
y  speaking  your  own  language 
I  JOQ  can  rattle  it  oflT,  and 
in  M  the  longest  and  hard- 
yoii  can  think  of.  Then 
ixttent  to  let  you  alone  the 

is  not  to  be  absorbed 

^Tvry  atmosphere.      Adult 

h^re  to  attack  it  with  teach- 

lor.  and  dictionary*     It  is  a 

\  bat  sitUea  fortrosa,  intrenched 


against  all  hasty  surprise  and  cap-j 
ture^  behind  endless  series  of  cunning  j 
grammatical  pitfalls  and  bristling  ad«^] 
lis  of  impaling  separable  and  insepih>-{ 
rable  verbs.  Months  of  severe  study  j 
are  requisite  to  gain  a  tolerable  ma»-] 
tery  of  it.  Knowledge  of  the  language 
has  to  be  paid  for,  —  paid  in  toil  and 
paid  in  money.  This  holds  especial^ 
true  of  the  family  living  by  itself  and 
keeping  house,  and  indeed  constitutes 
a  most  serious  ofi*set  to  the  undoubted 
agreeableness  of  such  mode  of  life. 
In  point  of  fact,  all  the  German  the 
ladies  of  such  a  household  are  likely 
to  hear  for  a  considerable  time,  is  that 
which  is  paid  for  out  of  the  mouth  of 
a  teacher.  Many  are  thus  forced  to 
hire  an  instructor  for  two  or  three 
hours  a  day,  and  then  pay  another 
person  for  walking  out  with  them  and 
talking  by  the  way*  And  though  in- 
struction is  cheap  here,^ — from  twenty 
to  forty  cents  an  hour,  —  this  necessi- 
ty in  the  long  run  involves  con  side  i^ 
able  expense.  Better  far  would  it  be 
for  all  families  to  try  to  board'  for  the 
first  six  months  in  a  German  house* 
hold,  where  at  meal-times  and  of 
evenings  they  would  have  a  chance 
to  air  their  growing  acquisitions  of 
speech.  This,  I  admit,  is  more  easily 
advised  than  brought  to  pass.  Ger- 
man families  live  closely  to  them- 
selves. They  are  largely  poor,  and 
have  to  economize  to  an  extreme  de-  j 
gree.  They  live  in  flats,  and  have 
rarely  more"  room  than  they  need  for 
themselves.  Very  few  are  williifg  to 
take  boarders.  Still,  the  thing  can 
be  done,  if  the  party  is  either  not  too 
large  or  is  willing  to  split  in  halves 
and  live  apart ;  not  that  they  love  each 
other  less,  but  German  more. 

But  all  these  discouraging  circum- 
stances cannot  hold  true  of  children^ 
I  hear  my  reader  say.  Children  learn 
a  foreign  language  mainly  throa^h 


724 


Ixoing  in  Germany. 


^ 
^ 


I 


imitaHon.  All  that  ia  necessary  is 
to  send  them  into  a  school  and  throw 
them  in  with  other  children.  Their 
aelf-forgetfulnesa  and  eagerness  for 
•xpressjon  will  soon  enablo  them  to 
talk  with  fluency. 

Send  them  into  a  school,  and  throw 
Ihem  in  with  other  children  t  How 
^Asj  it  is  to  say  this,  and  how  entirely 
Aatiisfactory  and  even  philoBOphical  it 
itounds.  But  suppose  the  schools  are 
already  half  full  of  English-speaking 
boys  and  girls,  —  and  this  is  no  sup- 
position, but  naked  fact, — what  will 
be  the  inevitable  result  ?  Birds  of  a 
liwither  flock  together.  The  different 
nationalities  stand  apart  like  oil  and 
water.  Look  in  upon  the  scene  at  re- 
cess, and  what  will  yon  behold  ?  Here 
at  one  side  of  the  yard  a  knot  of  Ger- 
man boys  or  girls ;  and  there  at  the  oth- 
er a  troop  of  Americana  and  English, 
gratifying  their  inherent  "eagerness 
for  expression  -^  in  derogatory  commen- 
taries in  their  dear  mother-tongue  on 
the  untidiness,  stupidity,  cowardice, 
and  what  not,  of  the  unhappy  Teutons. 
Then  ask  who  these  American  and 
English  children  are.  Largely  a 
riffraff  of  boys  and  girls  whose  par- 
ents are  away  in  India,  Australia, 
New  York,  or  disporting  themselves 
in  Paris  and  Naples  with  the  most 
complacent  conviction  that  their  ofT- 
flpring  are  enjoying  the  unspeakable 
ad  ir  ant  ages  of  a  Continental  educa- 
tion. Children  who  have  been  tossed 
hither  and  thither  around  the  world, 
who  have  been  to  twenty  different 
schools,  and  have  never  come  under 
any  regular,  consecutive  training ! 
Into  classes  with  these  must  your  boy 
€r  girl  go  to  learn  German.  How 
not  to  learn  German,  or  indeed  any 
thing  else,  is  the  aim  of  the  majority 
of  these  ingenuous  youths,  and  an  aim 
in  which  they  are  eminently  success- 
fttl.     Bat  ii  yout  owti  \>ci|  \e  "wO\- 


iyi 


mg  of; 
Eiaaj^ 

I 


trained,  diligent^  amhititmir  7^ 
find  that  before  a  moath  i 
utterly  sick  at  heart  with  | 
ment 

I  have  seen  this  kind  ol 
80  repeatedly,  and  have  listand 
many  bitter  outbreaks  of  dia 
alike  from  thoughtful  p«r«ii 
from  bright,  industrious  cbiUf| 
I  wish  to  emphasise  it  for  t^ 
of  those  who  are  thinking  Qif| 
out  themselves  to  Germa 
ing  tlieir  children.  It 
down  as  a  certain  fact,  I 
the  private  schools  in  thi 
wretched  beyond  description  J 
German  boys  who  attend  tl 
generally  a  claaa  too  stupid 
trained  to  get  on  in  the  set  en 
cellent  public  schools ;  that  th 
children  are  in  the  main  of  veil 
material,  owing  to  the  circtB 
under  which  they  have  been 
up,  and  are  in  any  erent  ^ 
insuperable  bar  to  cither  a  i 
thorough  acquisition  of  tha  li 
Not  that  the  teachers  are  to  li 
for  this  state  of  thin ga  1 
many  of  them  highly  cul^ 
excellent  men  and  womem  I 
fight  against  the  stars.  T 
with  the  intellectual  rongl 
their  own  and  other  nationi 
pure,  unadulterated  stupidity 
ficient  training  they  migl 
something;  but  diilnesa  anJ 
complicated  with  a  babel  o( 
and  a  heterogoneitj  of  ages^ 
than  the  gods  themseivv^f 
with.  ^ 

There  is  but  one  right  thi 
with  yoor  boys  or  girla  S« 
into  some  village  into  the  J 
a  clergyman  blessed  with 
quiver  full  of  sons  and 
into  tlte  home  of  a  wide 
circumstances.  There 
^«:^A  *^ksima<ilves  excluaivtl/  \ 


wua 


m  Cfemumy, 


726 


ag,  wrttiog,  aod  skating  in 
In  six  m<ft]th9  thej   will 
language  with  facility.     Then 
into  the   public  schools,  or 
prirate  tutors   for    them*     Yaa 
be     B&tis&ed,    and    their 
Itioii  thoroagh  and  admirs^ 

iper  may  seeoi  at  first  iight 
[m  rather  diflooufaging  Wk^  as 
Itoinent  atteatiou  hae  been 
I  th«  diiSculties  almost  ineTita- 
rucouDtered  by  American  fami- 
biliag  down  in  Germany.  Kay, 
P^smne  shrewd  reader  even  go  ao 
U>  auspect  that  the  writer  has  a 
•  end  of  his  own  in  view  ?  He 
to  frighten  others  out  of  their 
f  earning  oFer,  and  thus  act  as 
per  against  the  mighty  flood  of 
bnakxrj  fellow-countrymen  who 
buuog  up  lents^  swamping 
i»  aikd  distressing  his  sensitive 
he  accents  of  his  native  di- 
.%  but  is  it  not  well  to  look 

t«des  of  the  hedge  before  jump- 
r?  particularly  if  the  hedge  be 
ur  ocean  three  thousand    miles 

Eb-'  Is  it  not  even  well  to 
milng-party  ahead,  and  let 
tj  take  the  brunt  of  the 
absorb  the  majority  of  the 
^  and  show  by  the  largest  piles 
alftixi.  whefQ  the  greatest  ex- 
to  danger  lies?  Forewarned, 
ncd  !  I/et  any  family  comiug 
le  with  heroic  determination  to 


learn  German^  or  die  in  the  attempt, 
be  clearly  convinced  from  the  start, 
that  the  first  thing  they  ought  to  do 
is  to  lireak  up  as  a  family :  let  the 
boysy  at  least,  be  sent  into  soma 
neighboring  village,  where  they  will 
hear  nothing  but  German ;  let  the 
parents  and  daughters  spue  no 
amount  of  time  and  search  till  they 
have  installed  themselves  in  a  privata 
family ;  let  the  whole  preparation  of 
the  children  be  with  the  view  of  en- 
tering them  as  speedily  as  possible 
in  the  public  schools ;  and,  with  theae 
clear  ideas  in  the  mind,  a  world  of 
vague  wandering  and  waste  of  tima 
and  effibrt  will  be  saved. 

Life  in  Germany  will  then  be 
found  delightful  and  improving. 
True,  some  distasteful  cookery  will 
have  to  be  swallowed  down.  But 
what  is  that  to  a  well-regulated  mind, 
bent  on  mastering  the  glories  of  the 
Teutonic  speech  ?  The  one  family,  in 
which  you  soon  feel  at  home,  opens 
the  way  to  awiuaintance  with  other 
families.  Clubs  can  be  formed  for 
reading  and  conversation.  The  the- 
atre oH'ers  cheap  and  pleasant  oppo^> 
t unity  to  accustom  the  ear  to  the 
sounds  of  the  new  language,  and  the 
sense  of  rapid  progress  keeps  the 
mind  cheerfuL 

In  another  paper  I  propose  to  speak 
of  the  advantages,  for  musical  instruo- 
tion,  of  the  public  schools  and  of  the 
universities. 

F&AJirCIB   TlFFAJTT. 


tli«  wood,  ]«fiTes  it  of  the  same  ebape 
and  size  as  before,  and  worth  more 
than  before,  —  even  refined  into  the 
very  substance  of  the  diamond. 
B  ut  science  eajB  no  fire  consumes 
more  than  this.  Old  material  goes 
up  in  smoke  and  down  in  ashes,  but 
is  only  transformed.  Oxygen  nnites 
with  wood,  coalj  houses,  cities,  forests, 
—  disintegrates  and  carries  them 
away ;  but  saves  every  atom  to  build 
new  forests  and  cities,  which  may  be 
burned  again.  Kothing  is  consumed. 
Is  not  the  burning  bush  in  every  fire 
we  kindle  ? 

The  whole  animal  world,  too,  is  burn- 
ing ;  and  with  the  same  result.  Oxy- 
gen enters  our  bodies  to  unite  with 
fiiel  and  produce  heat,  just  as  in  a 
stove.  We  must  eat  much  for  fuel 
to  heat  ourselves  against  an  arctic 
winter.  Bmin,  content  if  he  barely 
keep  from  freezing,  fasts  j  yet  he  too 
must  burn  all  winter,  and  spring 
shows  him  lean  and  wasted,  like  any 
woodpile.  We  animals  are  all  on  fire, 
and  must  bum,  or  freeze  to  death. 
This  fire,  too,  consumes  neither  us^  nor 
anv  thing.-iBr,Jiiu.  «It  nnlir  inti  fr^ 


sU 


These    ti% 
exactest  condusi* 
world  18  literallj 

metal,  decaying  i 
mal,  and  bla^iu^ 
cisely  the  same  ji 
the  result  is  the  i 
consumes  nothiQj 
not  doubt  thi 
Horeb  for 
rather  but  to 
same  miraclo  all  i 
*  But  does  no| 
bush  reveal  God  i 
in  it  the  indest) 
Well,  this  is  wel 
ligion,  asking  a| 
eternal,  yet  forcd 
changing,  — ftoU 
lar  systems  to  hu 
and  thus  driven 
point  toward  de^ 
light  even  In  in 
Su  the  universe,' 
forms,  is  not  a  md 
There  is  at  the  U 
fears  neither  4 
Here  is  somethiij 
nt    sll Sftmi 


lOlUlQj 
hf^ 

'o  op^ 


The  Burning  Busk 


r27 


otiicir  sltribute  of  God. 
ills  bamiog  buBh,  not  01U7 
Mtance,  l>ut  eternal  force,  re- 
Here  is  more  light  The 
orms  of  the  universe  are 
ry.  Behind  and  working 
lem  all,  is  a  sabstance  that 
rs  onty  an  energy  that  never 
That  name,  Jehovah,  the 
JlM,  which  Moses  heard  at 
we  thought  sometimes  was 
to  give  forth  ou\y  a  kind 
echo;  but  here  the  same 
ds  full  and  clear  again,  even 
Hentific  doctrine  of  **  Inde- 
ry  of  matter,"'  and  **  Conser- 
forces,''  —  through  the  un- 
ttbitance,  and  untiring,  un- 
t^^gj  which  the  burning 
ibto  u«. 

J  the  modem  revelation  saves 
fw^  slipped.  Their  Jebo- 
^^0  the  partial  God  of  a 
pipe/'  The  burning  bush 
M>  favoritism,  but  the  strict 
unchanging  law.  Iron  rusts, 
►ya,  houses  burn,  whenever 
Hp  are  right,  let  who  will 
fHf^  burning  stops  not  for 
^ii0r  hastens  for  bad.     Chi- 

Loot  by  chance,  nor  by  par- 
oce.  but  by  laws  tliat  know 
Consecrated  churches  of 
I,  and  dens  of  vice ;  steal- 
tie  ves,  and  hard  earnings  of 
the  hypocrite's  broad  block 
piouA  widow's  shanty,  —  all 
together.  Fire  follows  laws, 
keta  no  persons.  80  all  the 
of    nature  show  no  partial 

k special  int^^rference  for 
le ; ''  but  the   constant 
oal  Providence.     The 
reveals   to   us  eternal 
^1  to  fixed  laws. 

the  revelation  which  is 

m  civilization  itsprac- 

tendency.    The  doctrine 


of  a  partial  Providenoc  with  arbitrary 
interference  makes  men  improvident ; 
only  the  doctrine  of  the  Uairersal 
Providence  of  law,  makes  men  trust 
laws,  and  provide  for  themselves.  The 
doctrine  of  a  "chosen  people  "  made 
Jews  ready  to  butcher  all  other  peoples, 
and  the  same  doctrine  in  later  times 
established  the  Inquisition  and  drove 
the  stake.  The  doctrine  of  a  partial 
God  makes  men  partial  and  inhumane 
Only  the  doctrine  that  God  is  just, 
"no  respecter  of  persons,'*  but  with 
the  same  laws  for  all^  will  make 
men  just,  respecting  each  other,  and 
recognizing  the  common  humanity 
of  alL 

Finally,  through  the  burning  bush 
eternal  love  is  revealed.  Fire  seems 
kind  when  you  see  that  it  only  de- 
stroys the  outward  form,  and  leaves 
the  inner  energy  to  clothe  itself  in 
higher  forms*  Such  continued  burn- 
ing, and  continual  birth  from  the 
ashes,  have  been  the  history  of  the 
earth,  gexDlogists  say,  from  mosses  up  to 
man.  With  man  it  still  goes  on,  with 
the  same  kind  action  and  result.  He 
makes  cities,  whose  walls  go  down  by 
slow  decay  or  fierce  flame;  yet  the 
real  city,  which  is  the  miraculous  en- 
ergy behind  the  brick  and  stone,  is 
unharmed,  even  disciplined  to  build 
better  walls.  So  he  builds  systems  of 
thought  and  social  institutions ;  and 
through  them  the  fire  eats,  now  smoul- 
dering in  slow  decay,  now  blazing  out 
in  revolution  and  **  reign  of  terror ;  " 
yet  truth  is  only  refined  thereby  for 
building  better  systems  and  institu- 
tions. The  burning  is  kind  to  the 
universe  and  to  humanity. 

May  we  not  also  say  kind  to  the  in- 
dividual ?  Fire  eats  through  his  life, 
with  loss  of  possessions,  pain  of  body, 
grief  of  soul;  now  smouldering  in 
silent,  unseen  suflfering,  now  bursting 
out  in  great  afflictions  which  seem  to 


sacn  personal  pecuiianDy,  is  noi#  izn-  ion  unioMUy  ana  in 
mortaL  But  the  faith  of  men  u  ever  ever  clearer,  "  The 
centring  mare  and  more  in  the  truth   standest  ii  hxAj  gn 

] 


POMPEn. 

Thb  silence  there  was  what  most  haunted  me. 

Long,  speechless  streetS|  whose  stepping-stonet  ii 

Feet  which  shall  never  come ;  to  left  and  right 

Gay  colonnades  and  courts  —  heyond  the  glee. 

Heartless,  of  that  forgetful  Pagan  sea. 

Ou  roofless  homes  and  waiting  streets,  the  light 

Lies  with  a  pathos  sorrowfuUer  than  night 

Fancy  forhids  this  doom  of  Life  with  Death 

Wedded,  and  with  her  wand  restores  the  Lift. 

The  jostling  throngs  swarm,  animate,  beneath 

The  open  shops,  and  all  the  tropic  strife 

Of  voices,  Boman,  Greek,  Barbarian,  mix.     The 

Indolent  hangs  on  &r  Vesuvius'  crest ; 

And  over  all,  the  glowing  town  and  guiltleas  i 


I  FPPP     '^' 


®t)c  (Examiner. 


rERATUEE   IN  SCHOOL.' 

K  IB  the  proper  place  for  litera- 

it  b  for  manners ;  indeed,  for 

t  fine    finish,  intelligence    in 

i  elegance  in  mode,  which  we 

Iture.'*     When    home     had 

better  than  n  a  tight  was 

famous  and  elegant  old 

dasa  rates,    *Hhcm    as 

tuppence,"     So  it   is 

If    there   is  none   at 

;ter  than  nothing  to  get 

that  Bchoal  can  aub- 

ood's  volume  is  what 
announces  it,  not  encyclo- 
mt  a  chronological  series  of 
;  and  specimens  long  enough 
lome  interest  of  their  own, 
ea  to  illustrate  the  pieculiari- 
le  authors  and  periods.  It  is 
recommended  (p.  vil)  that 
ligh  school  should  be  fur- 
^ih  a  sufficient  number  of 
Shakspeare  to  allow  of  a 
fe  reading  of  several  of  his 
»  with  Scott's  'Lady  of  the 
hnd  Groldsmith's  *  Vicar  of 
1'  *'  This  plan  of  carrj'ing 
^daaaea  through  real  books 
B  med  wherever  possible,  in 

pJB^ok  «f  BnfUita  Uusninr*^  [iit«ndc4 

"  o«i|«,  pti¥*Lo   sCiidenU   And    gvocrsi 

F,  B.  tJnderwood.    Vol  1 ,  —  Br  ItUh 

OoMoii:  Lm  H  fibciwnL    1873. 


low  as  well  as  high  schools.  Nobody 
who  has  not  tried  it  can  imagine  how 
the  expected  pleasures  of  reading 
what  is  entertaining  will  delight  the 
class,  or  with  how  energetic  an  inter- 
est their  enjoymentj  properly  man- 
aged, will  float  them,  all  alive,  tliruugh 
a  tedious  accompaniment  of  technical 
drill 

The  "  Historical  Introduction  **  is 
su  ffic  ie  nt»  The  "  classics  **  have  h  ard- 
ly  been  quite  as  fully  represented 
as  Mr.  Underwood  intimates.  Raw- 
linson  ought  to  have  been  included 
in  the  list  of  contemporary  authors, 
as  well  as  Layard  and  Tyndall,  more 
than  Huxley.  But  perhaps  even 
this  need  not  have  been  said ;  of  carp- 
ing at  good  books  there  is  no  end. 
Mr.  Underwood  has  selected  with 
competent  knowledge  and  great  care  ; 
and  his  Hand-Book  will  be  found 
convenient  and  trustworthy.  To  one 
typographical  detail^  however,  it  is 
ecessary  to  object  j  namely,  the  exeea- 
sively  smaU  letter  —  an  ^*  agate  **  —  in 
which  the  biographical  notices  and 
some  of  the  poems  are  set  It  is  a 
serious  error  in  judgment  to  require 
children  to  read  such  fine  print. 
Even  at  the  expense  of  uniformity, 
we  hope  this  defect  will  be  cured  in 
the  companion  volume  of  American 
literature  which  the  author  announces. 


730 


Haym's  Momantische  Schule* 


HAYM'S  ROMANTISCHE  SCHULE.* 
In  a  keen  and  caustic  critique  of 
modern  Germau  roaianticism,  Heine 
pointe  out  two  opposite  phases  in 
this  school  of  literature,  one  of  which 
attained  its  fullest  development  in 
Kovali^i  the  other  in  Amadous  Hoff- 
mann, The  phase  of  romanticism 
of  which  Novalis  may  be  regarded  aa 
the  most  complete  embodinaeut  was 
what  he  himself  called  **  magic  ideal- 
ism,**—  a  kind  of  hypermysticism 
based  on  Schelling'a  philosopliy  of 
the  absolute,  in  which  thoughts  are 
confounded  with  things,  and  all  natu- 
ral phenomena  reduced  to  symbols  of 
ideas.  On  the  other  hand,  the  ro- 
manticists, of  whom  Hoffmann  may 
be  taken  as  the  fittest  representative, 
were  not  so  much  speculative  mystics, 
as  common  conjurors,  and  resembled 
the  Arabian  sorcerers,  who,  with  all 
their  supernatural  ism,  never  lose 
their  hold  on  terrestriul  realities,  con- 
trol the  forces  of  tlie  pliyijical  world, 
and  at  will  animate  stones  or  petrify 
life.  Novaiis,  continue^  Heine,  saw 
everywhere  wonders  and  beautiful 
miracles;  he  listened  to  the  conversa- 
tion of  the  plants,  and  knew  the  se- 
crets of  every  young  ru^e  j  and  finally 
80  identified  himself  with  nature, 
that  when  antutnn  came,  and  the 
leaTes  fell,  he  died.  Hoffmann,  on 
the  contrary,  saw  everywhere  spec- 
tres, and  was  a  Circeau  enchanter, 
who  transformed  men  into  beasts. 
He  could  call  forth  the  dead  from 
their  graves,  hut  life  repudiated  him 
as  a  melancholy  spook.  He  was  con- 
scious of  this,  and  realized  that  he 
had  become  a  ghost  All  nature  lay 
before  bim  as  a  mlspolished  mirror, 
in  which  he  saw  his  own  death's- 
head,  a  thousand-fold  distorted  j  and 

«  Die  romantUcht  Schule.  Elu  Bvltmg  rur  G*. 
•chlchto  di**  deutnchen  Gelslca,  von  K.  Itufm. 
B«rUn<  Vrrliig  von  Budolpb  Gsertncr.  1S70. 
0VO,  pp.  &U.  061, 


Ills  works  are  nothiJig  tmt  a  ti 
cry  of  anguish^  in  twenty  to 
The  only  similarity 
these  two  diverging 
their  point  of  origin;  in  i 
the  poetic  effusions,  in  botk^ 
the  efflux  and  expression 
eased  imagination  ;  just  ai 
is  at  once  the  symptom  aad  ft 
suit  of  a  morbid  conditicfl 
poor,  sufiFering  oyster*  *fl^ 
hue  in  the  poems  of  liovalia 
the  flush  of  health,  but  of  eofi 
tion ;  and  the  purple  glow  \ 
mann*s  fantasies  betrays  th«" 
of  genius,  bat  of  fever," 
Heine's  point  of  view,  ev 
attempt  to  sit*  in  i  ' 
works  necessarily 
acter  of  a  diagnosis,  aud  \ 
knowledge  and  acuteiiess  < 
thologist,  rather  thaa  th4 
critic.  Goethe  also  cha 
productions  of  the  loii 
"  Laxareth-pocsie  ;  **  and  i 

"  Mir  will  du  kraako  SSctig  i 

Autorcn  toUcn  lent  gt»u 
To  most  readers,  tlus  sui| 
egation  of  a  whole  scho 
into  the  wards  of  the  hg 
seem  the  extravagance 
antipathy,  or  the  mere  whi^ 
cism.  Yet,  without  igu 
bene^cent  literary  infiuen^ 
by  the  fomauticists,  in  op 
the  prosaic  stage-plays  of  J 
the  vulgar  platitudes  of  \ 
and  Kot2ebue,  the  new  in 
wider  scope  which  they 
torical,  philosophical,  and  phM 
studies,  and  the  patriotic  cntiiu 
which  they  enkindled  by  itc 
and   maj.' f    \  j  be  greatntfi 

glory  of  ii  >  Gera 

not  be  denied  that  <li#j 
it  revealed  itself  in  j 
quently  in  politics  and 
ihfi  ^lyidaQi  ol  a  oiorbid  J 


Haym's  Romantische  Schule. 


731 


onflict  with  every  healthy, 
tendencj  of  the  agCi  and 
(deserving  the  severitj  of 
I  sentence.  That  this  ia  aUoj 
ain  degree,  the  standpoint 
rhich  fhia  school  is  regarded  by 
recent  and  most  competent 
HeiT  Hajm,  is  evident 
ie  words,  "A  contribution  to 
Btory  of  the  German  mind," 
[•stand  on  the  title-page  of  his 
Ite  and  instructive  monograph^ 
up] J  that  the  predominant  in- 
[attracting  him  to  the  subject 
so  much  literary  as  psycho- 
The  thick  volume  is  divided 
books,  entitled,  *'  The  Kise 
lantic  Poesy,"  "The  Kise  of 
JOaotic  Criticism  and  Theory/^ 
l^**Th©  Blossoming  Time  of  Ro- 
aticisiD-'*  The  first  hook  is  di- 
into  three  chapters,  in  which 
ed  tlie  various  phases  of 
J  development,  and  his  relations 
dbacK  Bernhardi,  Nicolai»  and 
^nttxler,  with  admirable  analyses 
I  principal  productions  belonging 
period,  —  "  Almansur,"  "  Ah- 
"  "Karl  von  Bemeck," 
i^Abflchied,"  « William  Lovell." 
fT  Leberecht,"  "Biaubart,"  and 
)ly  **  Franz  Stern bald*s  Wan- 
hinge tu"  The  second  book,  which 
bigts  also  of  three  chapters,  is  de- 
^P  to  a  characterization  of  Au- 
ffwilhelm  and  Friedrich  Sclilegel ; 
in  the  five  chapters  which 
the  third  book,  we  have 
and  comprehensive  sketches 
Idlderlin^  Novalis,  Schleier- 
Hulsen,  Ficbte,  Schelling, 
us,  Henriette  Herz,  Dorothea 
and  others  who  were^  more  or 
)■  intimately  connected  with  the 
iders  of  the  romantic  school,  or  in 
mpathy  with  their  ideas.  Thus 
e  author  follows,  step  by  step,  the 
lyirtli  of  tnodern  German  romanti- 


cism through  all  its  stages,  poetic, 
critical,  tedthetic,  religious,  ethical, 
and  metaphysiciil,  until  that  union 
of  poetry  and  science,  which  was  the 
ideal  of  Schelling  and  his  friends, 
is  realized  in  Hegel's  "  Phanomenol- 
ogie  des  Geistes,"  and  the  fragmen- 
tary ma,terials,  which  the  others  had 
contributed,  are  hewn  and  fitted  by  a 
master  s  hand  into  a  vast  and  system- 
atic encyclopsBdia  of  principles. 

The  disease  of  romanticism  con- 
sisted in  excessive  subjectiveness,  in- 
tense egoism,  and  hyperidealisoL 
Even  the  sweetest  poems  and  most 
charming  romances  of  this  school  are 
tainted  by  the  infection,  and  betray 
their  origin  as  products  of  an  imagi- 
nation that  has  outgrown  its  normal 
and  healthy  relations  to  the  other 
faculties,  aud  thereby  destroyed  all 
intellectual  equilibrium  and  symme- 
try. They  are  like  a  pdti  de  foie 
gra^i  which  is  indeed  a  rare  and 
dainty  diab,  but  always  presupposes 
a  sick  goose«  This  morbid  assertion 
of  the  absolute  supremacy  of  the  in- 
dividual will  over  the  world  of  mate- 
rial things  and  the  conventionalities 
of  life,  which  first  came  to  the  sur- 
face in  the  violent  eruption  of  the 
storm  and  stress  period,  and  after- 
wards embodied  itself  in  the  logical 
formulae  of  Fichte*s  doctrine  of  the 
Icily  readied  its  highest  expression  in 
the  "  magic  idealism  ■'  of  Kovalis, 
It  is  well  known  how  painfully 
Goethe  struggled  through  the  chaos 
of  this  so-called  Genitzeitj  in  "  Gotz," 
"Werther,"  **  Faust,"  and  **Tasso," 
until  he  found  in  **  Wilhelm  Meis- 
ter/*  that  complete  reconciliation  of  . 
ideal bm  and  realism,  which  Schiller  / 
attained,  by  the  way  of  criticism,  in 
his  admirable  treatise  "On  Naive 
and  Sentimental  Poetry,"  and  in  hij» 
''  Letters  on  Man  s  JEIsthetic  Educa- 
tion." 


processes  and  developing  theories  of 
eolture;  such,  for  example,  as  Jean 
Paul's  "Titan,^  Jacobi's  "Wol- 
demar,"  Hdlderlin's  *'  Hyperion," 
Tieck's  "  Franz  Stembald's  Wander- 
nngen,"  Novalis's  "  Heinrich  von  Of- 
terdingen,"  Wackenroder's  "  Herzens- 
ergiessungen  eines  knnstliebenden 
Klosterbniders,"  Fr.  Schlegel's  "Lu- 
cinde,"  Heine's  "  Ardinghello,"  Doro- 
thea Veit's  "  Florentin,"  and  Caroline 
Wolzogen's  *' Agnes  von  Lilien.** 
Of  all  these  poets  and  romancers, 
Jean  Paul,  who,  strictly  speaking, 
did  not  belong  to  the  ''knights  of 
the  blue  flower,^'  was  unquestionably 
the  healthiest,  or,  rather,  the  least 
"tainted  in  his  wits."  However 
much  he  may  love  to  peer  into 
graves  and  chamelhouses,  and  weep 
over  the  wrongs  and  miseries  of 
human  life,  his  melancholy  is  ''a 
most  humorous  sadness ; "  and  in  his 
bosom  there  beats  a  stont,  warm, 
cheerful  heart,  inaccessible  to  any 
drop  of  misanthropic  bitterness.  He 
is  a  sentimentalist  with  an  exhaust- 


celled  in  the  mi 
idyllic  scenes  ax 
which,  by  the  si 
vapid,  overwroug 
many  bold,  vigor 
lineations  of  the 
the  common  pe 
and  sacrifices  of 
midst  of  all  the  < 
altations  of  entl 
never  loses  this 
footing  on  the  ei 
Very  different, 
the  unhappy  H(j 
the  demons  of  h; 
their  permanent 
between  the  idea 
tween  the  world 
and  the  world  as 
him  into  a  bott 
spondency.  In**] 
terizes  the  Gem 
from  the  beginni 
baric  by  diligen 
even  by  religion 
ble  of  any  divin 
the  marrow;"  : 


ffa^^s  BcmamHs^  SdMe. 


T3S 


m  UljssM  Mt  in 
Urn  beggAT  at  bk  own  doot^ 
iofloleol  tsttofB  rrrdled  in 
and  exdaiaaedy  ^Wbo  k» 
I  ihU  ragftlMnid?' '^  Fiom 
wKkh  an  enemj  baa  aovn 
»  ao  that  it  pots  fintb  no 
pnae^*"  HoldeHtn  talsM  nf- 
^  beautiful  land  of  Gteaoe^ 
Itry  ol  Hcfliod  and  Homer, 
^  fioi^iCN^ea,  tha  pbiio0opb  j 
md  tba  fiublime  fimni  of 
ti  aa  lertaled  to  him  in 
|aiin^8  rapturoiia  and  insptr- 
[iptiona.  Bat  instead  of 
Hg  bimjelf  with  the  milk 
liter  age/'  and^  like  Ggethe 
per,  finding  ^  onder  a  di^ 
iaa  shy  ^'  incentives  to  cma- 

longing  showed  itself  onlj 
f  melancholy  and  elegiac 
ner  the  irrecorerahle  loss  of 
perfection  and  beauty*  This 
irrades  all  his  lyrics  (with 
jjucoeption  of  his  '^Gesang 
psben  "  ),and  is  concentrated 
losing  stanza  of  the  ode 
Hiand.'' 

bagi  iii'a  hemert  Imxtd  hiaiber, 
^ioftimd  Anmkreoii, 
VcUicf  im  eogen  Hftiue  lieber 
Beiligen  la  Msmlioii ; 

set  die  fctzte  nudner  Tfarinea, 
Ml^gvii  GriecheotAnile  nnn, 
iPmea,  lasst  die  Sdieere  t&nen, 
pis  Bert  gcbort  den  Todten  an/' 

kme  sentiment  of  mingled 
t  and  despair  recurs  in  the 
The  Death  of  Empedocles ; " 
the  hero,  a  compound  of 
and  Prometheus,  throws 
pon  the  ^*  £ery  heart  of  Na- 
ler  the  impuUe  of  a  Welt- 
akin  to  that  which  caused 
to  end  h\»  days  as  a  hermit, 
losom  of  Nattire." 
Itn  died  at  the  age  of 
and  was  a  Innatic  for 
rears  of  his  life.     How 


tta^^eror 


bad  aflbcied  bb  wbols  iiatiii«,  ia  avi- 
dnit  hnm  tba  Utct^  thai,  dufing  lbi»i 
loagpetiodafaeiital  obscmaticn,  luii 
only  iateUectiial  labor  was  to  tzmDa»j 
kto  h^m  Sopbodes;   and  bta 
violial  pawiajftMBB  of  insanity  eofM  b#^ 
alhfvd  only  by  reading  aloud  to  btm 
pawagtB  from  Homer. 

Altbottgb  not  a  recogniied  nenibar 
of  tfaa  romantic  school,  Hdlderltn  waft  j 
wholly  imbued  with  its  spirit, 
justly  claims  a  prominent  pbe^i 
among  tbcoe  ao-ealled  ^  JS^H^&m^m^ 
of  the  stovn  and  stress  period.  Stall 
more  chamctexistiG  and  sagniScant, 
for  the  bt^ieai  derrelopment  of  ro- 
manticism, was  NoTalis ;  ^  whom 
Schleiermacher,  in  the  *^  Keden  iiber 
Religion,'*  eulogised  as  '^the  diTine 
yooth^  too  early  fallen  asleep,  wboi 
spirit  transformed  every  thing  that  j 
touched  into  poetry ;  '*  adding  that, 
**  when  philosopheis  grow  religtooa 
and  seek  God,  like  Sptnosa,  and  ar- 
tists become  pious  and  love  Christ, 
like  Xovalis,  then  will  the  great  rea- 
nrrection  of  philosophy  and  art 
celebrated. '^  Novalii's  "Hymnen 
die  Kacht "  are  the  utterances  of  a 
sorrow  as  genuine  and  deep  aa  any  i 
the  elegies  of  Holderlin,  and  far  i 
so  than  the  forced  and  fictitious  pa* 
thos  of  Tieck's  Ijricsj  but  it  is  the 
ecstasy,  not  the  melancholy,  of  grief; 
a  familiarity  with  darkness  and  de 
with  perfect  freedom  from  all 
terrors*  Tbey  have  been  compared  lo 
Young's  "Night  Thoughts  ; ''  but  the 
monotonous  moral izings,  diflfuse  and 
commonplace  reflections,  and  rhetori- 
cal fustian,  of  the  latter,  have  notliiog 
in  common  with  the  thoughtful  brev- 
ity, intrinsic  sincerity,  and  charming 

1  Xom  dephtmM  of  FrSoifrtch  von  Hiininib*ra; 
of  whicb,  tfloordlst  to  Ua^m.  It  li  a  tntn^liitloo; 
*nd  il^iifAet  frp«Yitr- broken  wo(»dliiiid  rHarf* 
Hard'  WitM^  or  Wood;,  or  wluU  tlM  U«niMM  mm* 


fortli  "  the  good  grave  at  GHiningen '' 
U  to  him  the  centre  of  the  world,  As 
a  true  believer  in  Fichte's  philosophy 
of  **  the  absolute  /rA/'  and  the  sov- 
ereignty of  the  human  will,  even  over 
fate,  he  lieroically  resolves  to  die ;  not 
like  a  vulgar  suicide,  hy  an  act  of 
physical  violence,  hut  like  a  philoso- 
plier,  by  the  force  of  pure  volition. 
•*  It  will  be  bard,"  he  says,  **  to  sever 
myself  from  the  earth  which  I  have 
Btudied  with  so  mm!h  love ;  the  re- 
lafiscs  will  rause  many  pniuful  mo- 
ments; hut  I  know  that  there  is  in 
man  a  power  which,  under  careful 
cuUivation,  can  he  developed  into  a 
peculiar  energy.*'  Significant  in  this 
connection  are  his  aphorisms;  in 
which  he  speaks  of  the  soul  as  "the 
strongest  of  all  poisons,''  and  of  life 
as  **  a  disease  of  the  spirit,  of  which 
death  is  the  cure."  His  diary  is  the 
record  of  his  progress  towards  the  in- 
visible worM ;  and  in  it  are  frequently 
noted  "  indescribably  happy  "  hours, 
and  "  axifblitzendt  JSnthtisiasmtts- 
Mom-entej^^  when  he  seemed  near  the 
accomplishment  of  his  resolution,  tbo 


■^y*us 
cl^W 


ism ;"  whic 
poetic  and 
the  uncondition^ 
will  and  moralj 
conviction  is  tU 
claiming  miTacI 
wonderful  and  ii 
u  in  the  mom^ 
him/'  "Dying 
sophical  act*^ 
perfectly  ma 
work  miracU 
is  defined  to  hi 
power  of  cha| 
things,  and  thit^ 
transforming  iM 
diate  fuliilmenC 
hinted  that  he  m 
lost  limbs,  or  tl 
mere  act  of  thq 
more,  he  haa  the 
physical  world 
has  over  his  own 
ematics  he  decla| 
element  of  the  i 
elusive  proof  of 
ideality  of  natufl 
masic  it  appeaj 


Hayrri's  JRomantiacke  Sdtule. 


735 


into  the  interior 
Fried  rich  Schlegel, 
lie  initiated  into  the  mys- 
ssj.  These  mysteries  are 
le  nature :  they  like  to  veil 
and  yet  wish  to  be   seen 

kOut  of  the  dynamic 
ydcs^  the  holiest  rev- 
re  break  forth  on  all 
ight  of  intellectual  intui- 
titrned  to  the  region  which 
Irded  ns  its  original  home. 
tnow  man  now,  when  we 
«ntre  of  the  earth,"  Of 
itions,  says  Kovalis,  "  the 
H|igiou.9  organ/' 
Rnef,  is  the  metaphysics 
&1I1,  as  nn folded  in  "Die 
uSais/'and  in  "Heinrich 
ngen/'  "  The  pith  of  my 
is,  that  poesy  is  the  abso- 
the  more  poetic,  the  more 
be  world  of  fable  la  ac- 
tual worid  is  a  fable." 

n  in  Marebfrn  arid  Oedirhfiea 
lie  cw'pim  Weltgffchichten : 
^t  Yor  ein«m  j^cimen  Wort 
tvcrlrohrtc  Wescn  fort." 

»?on  Ofterdingen  "  was 
bipotheosis  of  poetry  in 
*'WiiheIm  Meister;" 
ilk  characterized  as  a  pro- 
^kf  economy."  Artistic 
^■ds,  is  the  spirit  of  the 
Hfhich  treats  merely  of 
ittlmii  thingS)  while  nature 
ism  are  ntterly  forgotten. 
•rork  is  '^odious  "  to  him  ; 
matter  is  cheap,  common, 
i;  nothing  is  admirable  in 

PI,  the  masterly  art  of 
he  charming  and  life- 
t  the  theatrical  world 
anger,  that  **  actresses 
etamorphosed  into  Muses, 
nio  actresses,**  That  he 
I  fODsance  to  be  regarded 
nd  a  rif al  to  Goethe-s,  is 


apparent  from  the  fact,  that,  by  his 
express  injunction,  the  form  and  let- 
ter-press of  the  first  edition  were  an 
exact  imitation  of  the  form  and  letter- 
press of  "  Wilhelm  Meister/'  Un- 
fortunately, the  premature  death  of 
the  author  left  the  work  a  torso ; 
and  wo  only  know,  &om  a  few  inti* 
mations  contained  in  his  posthumous 
papers,  that  it  was  to  end  with  a 
reconciliation  of  the  Christian  and 
heathen  religions  :  "  The  wall  of  sep- 
aration between  fiction  and  truth, 
past  and  present,  has  fallen,"  and  all 
things  are  harmonized  and  transfig- 
ured by  the  spirit  of  poesy. 
**  G^grundet  ijrt  du  Keich  der  Kwigkeit ; 
In  Lieb'  und  Fneden  endet  iich  dcr  Surdt," 
It  is  extremely  significant  of  the 
feverish  and  visionary  character  of 
the  romanticists,  that  so  many  of 
their  representative  works  were  left 
unfinished,  and  so  much  of  their  wis- 
dom was  embodied  in  aphorisms  and 
paradoxes.  Thus  Friedrich  Schle- 
gel's  '*  Lucinde,"  which  illustrates 
the  ethics  of  romanticism,  remained 
a  fragment,  although  the  first  volume 
appeared  nearly  thirty  years  before 
the  authors  death.  It  is  true  that 
this  romance  was  subsequently  repu- 
diated by  many  of  the  most  promi- 
nent members  of  the  school ;  Hiilseni 
Hardenberg,  Steffens,  and  Schelling 
denounced  it ;  Tieck  called  it  "  a 
strange  chimera; "  and  A.  W.  Schle- 
gel^,  after  praising  "the  sublime  ardor 
of  the  luminous  '  Lucinde,* "  derided  it 
as  "  a  foolish  rhapsody."  Neverthe- 
less, this  unwonted  indignation  proves 
that  it  was  only  a  too  faithful  and 
undisguised  exemplification  of  those 
sophistries  and  casuistries  of  the 
imagination  and  the  passions,  which 
constituted  the  so-called  Kunstler- 
morale  in  opposition  to  the  '* decencies 
of  our  common  prosaic  life,"  and 
which    Heine    bad  already  glorified 


736 


Haj/m*s  SomanHsche  ScJmk, 


m  Hu  ''Axdiaghelloy'*  and  Tieck  bim- 
ielf  had  preacbed  tb rough  the  moath 
of  Flarei»tao  io  bia  "  Frans  Stern  bald-" 
Under  all  the  allegoricai  imageiyf 
ironical  pcrsifiage^  and  rague  charao- 
ttricatioDf  of  tbb  Uterarj  quwUiJbeL,  it 
ia  easy  to  see  that  the  storj  is,  in  its 
jnain  featoredf  a  piece  of  autobiogta- 
phjTy — a  shameless  recoid  and  reckleaa 
aspoanre  of  the  personal  expenencea 
and  namby-pambj  friFoUtiei  of  a 
howik  pedant  The  relationa  of  Julius 
to  Lucinde  are  essentiallj  thoM  of 
Friedrich  Schlegel  to  Dorothea  Veit, 
as  deecribed  in  bid  letters  to  bia 
brother.  That  Dorothea  herself  wo- 
ognized  their  portraits,  and  was  rexed 
at  the  iDdiscretion  of  her  paramoor^ 
ia  clear  from  her  remark^  **  dasi  die 
GoUerhihen  aus  der  Schule  scAwat-- 
sen."  In  a  word,  the  book  is  a  com- 
pendiurn  of  that  **  higher  philowphj 
of  life/'  sjnoDjuious  with  the  ^"^eman- 
eipation  of  the  tlesli/'  which  came 
into  vogite  in  Berlin  towards  the 
cloee  of  the  last  centurj;  especiallj  in 
a  select  circle  of  wealthy  and  cli arm- 
ing Jewesses,  of  which  Henriette 
Here,  Dorothea  Veit,  Marian e  Meyer, 
F^u  TOD  Grottburs,  and  K^ihel  Le- 
Tin  were  the  most  gifted  members. 
It  was  in  the  salons  of  these  genial 
and  highly-cultivated  women,  that 
Schlegel  tirst  met  the  original  of  bis 
heroine  (  then  the  wife  of  a  Jewish 
banker,  a  rospec table  but  narrow- 
minded  inan,  whose  thoughts  were 
chiefly  of  **  moneys  and  usances/'  and 
tn  whose  mind  the  word  speculation 
excites  only  fiaions  of  atoeka  mud 
gunny-bags),  and  also  became  ao- 
4]  ua  in  ted  with  Schleiermacher,  whose 
**  Vertratiie  Hrwfe  uher  dU  Lur^ 
einde,^^  praised  ^  tlie  sublime  beauty 
and  poesy  of  the  excellent  and  unique 
^<ovk/^  while  they  equalled,  and  often 
^saeeded,  in  ofl^osivenesa  the  scan- 
dalous   paiiagaa   ii\i\ck  i^^^^   ^xir 


phraaed.    In  fad, 
tial  Letters ""  of  tlie 
are,  from  an  9«tiMtk  \ 
an  ethical  point  of 
stzangest,  and,  for  a 
senrer,  most  pozallng 
the  history  of  litezatoii^ 
aattsfactodT 
sought   in   hia 
Friedrich  Schlegel^  and  i 
his  passioQ^ta  Ioto  Idt  I 
now,  the  wife  of  ona  of  lua  J 
in  the  sacred  o6lca  of  I 
Yet,  aside  fcom  all  ] 
erations,  it  ia  erident 
macher  indofsed^  in  tlw 
tendency   and   nkondit] 
mance;  and  his  theo^ 
sity  of  "  preliminary 
lore,"  in  order  to  insurs 
happineaa,  is  only  anoclitr ' 
of  Schlegers  Dot<irio>aa 
*^  marriages  o 
there,   it   is   trae^ 
puts  in  a  gentle  rejoii 
protest;  on   the  irl 
has,  acoofding  to  bia 
nothing  more  to 
tions  on  th«  great  tftt 
As  the  sensitiTe  and 
acter  of  romantic 
an  extren>e  r«-actioi 
stolidity  of  preralent  I 
romantic  ethics^  in 
conventional  prod^y  and  ; 
r^oilefl  into  license 

defiance  of  all  mocnl     

stnfcintR.    That  the  centra  ( 
macher*s  ethics  lay  alsa  In  1 
nipotence  of  the   faelin^** 
**  the  solitude  and  ideality  of  1 
Ichj*'  is  evident  from  his 
the  Immorality  of  aQ 
**  Catechism  of  Iba  Beaaon  i 
Women,^  and  aapecially 
moaa  '^Monolognesi'' 
ooaly  scientifie 
\isiiiiaL  EUuca,^ 


Haym's  Romantiache  Schule. 


737 


teresting  phase  of  the  gen- 
^ct  (nliich  HeiT  Haym  haa 
siiientally  alluded  to,  and 
limits  set  to  his  volume 
hiiu  from  discussing),  is 
lat^  infiaeDce  exerted  by  ro- 

I  «j>on  the  fine  arts. 
,ve  already   referred  to  the 
rhich  it  gare  to  the  study  of 

history  and  old  German 
,  AS  well  as  to  its  merits  in 
r  Iht  horizon  of  German 
f  muterty  tran  slat  ions  and 
are  criticisms  of  English, 
Spaotsh,    and     Portuguese 

II  1S03,  Friedrich   Schlegel 
Pteis  to  learn  Saoscrit,  and 

On  the  Language  and 
iSkm  IndianSi^  became  the 
ooopaiatiTa  philology  in 
f,     Bopp  and  Loeien  were 
Ae  ranaotie  echooL     But 
mne     year     (18M)     in 
ia  woik  was  pobtieiMdlp  iia 
the  Ibid  of  the  GatiM>- 
id.  as  the   rewafd   of 
hnm  Ifeclefiiich 
^  Sccietaij  to  the  Asa- 
Hit  exaaipli 
%y  ZaelniSM  W 


Nar  in  TOnm  miff  •*<■  jr^m 

It  was  hy  no  mean*  tnDn?ly  acci^ 
dental,  that  the  gmndefcl  and  mo*t 
comprehensive  form  of  piiro  in«tru* 
mental  music  wai»  reached  in  the 
symphony    contern  ^'♦ly     ^^^^ 

the  hloom  of  rom  ;   and   al- 

though Beethoven,  who«e  Sympbo- 
niea  surpass  thoiie  of  all  other  com* 
posers,  was  not  identified  with  the 
lomantic  school,  yet  the  nature  of  hie 
genius  was  essentially  sentimental 
and  idealistic ;  and  in  this  respect  he 
bore  the  same  relation  to  the  nafve 
and  realistic  Mojcart,  that  Schiller 
bore  to  Goethe,  and  Michael  Angelo 
to  Raphael  It  ia,  bowe^^r,  tfi  the 
songs  of  Schubert,  and  eepecially  in 
the  sonatas  and  operas  of  Karl 
Maria  Ton  Weber^  tbal  the  renaaik 
spirit  it  Boel  eleatly  aiKl  characttfii" 
ikallj  iwanifeeted.  Al  tbe  pmesl 
dajthe  tMie  iofliisfice  is  tfaeeaMe  i« 
tlie  «*ivBsiea]  diaiMi^  ef  Biehafd 
Wagser,  both  tn  his  disiee  of  llidBm 
(XaiiBlteisefft  Ukmtpim,  Xm$mu 
nd  ImUb,  t)€f  Mmt  te  KMmk- 
ges,4b^)aiMllibnedNid  of  Mstittff 
Vmij  s^pUeMt,  lie^  m  Um 
pterfilecH— aaJ  toe  ap 
wUdiwe  tod 
ia  ihmwtHm^  of  dfee  bltr] 

iiileoyecM^  Om  gntts  of  91M, 

tko  Ml    , 

Itt  poesdiafHy,  we  Mod  mif  wAw 
to   Om 


738 


Haym's  Romantische  Schule. 


collecting  and  copying  of  old  Itdian 
and  old  Germ  an  pictures,  Tims  a 
new  tendency  manifested  itself  in  art, 
directly  opposed  to  the  classic  purity 
and  Hellenic  serenity  and  symmetry 
of  Carstens,  Thorwaldsen^  and  Scbin- 
kel.  The  finest  works  of  the  great 
masters  of  the  sixteenth  century, 
ideals  of  free  and  ennobled  humanity, 
like  the  forms  of  the  apostles  in 
Kaphaefs  tapestries,  and  on  Feter 
Vischer'fi  tomb  of  St  Sebald  in  Nu- 
remberg, were  rejected  as  a  degen*>r- 
acy  and  a  desecration,  because  they 
betrayed  a  study  of  the  Greeks^  and 
bore  no  stamp  of  specifically  Chris- 
tian sanctity;  while,  on  the  other 
hand,  the  most  imperfect  mediieval 
daub,  with  false  penspective,  dis- 
torted forms,  stiflT  and  wooden  faces, 
and  thin,  spiritualized  legs,  was  cher- 
ished as  something  sublime  and  sa- 
cred. Goethe,  whose  studies  in  Italy, 
under  the  guidance  of  Palladio  and 
Winckelmann,  had  taught  him  to  ajj- 
preciate  the  true  greatness  of  the  an- 
tique, and  the  real  scope  of  the 
Kenais5ance,  was  indignant  at  this 
relapse  into  the  Middle  Ages  on  the 
part  of  the  so-called  Kazarenes.  It 
was  as  if  the  butterfly  should  return 
to  the  chrysalis,  and  crawl  forever 
upon  the  earth  in  the  form  of  a  cat- 
erpillar, **  Because  a  few  monks 
were  artists,  therefore  all  artists  must 
henceforth  be  monks,"  was  the 
strange  logic  of  the  new  school, 
which  Cornelius,  Overbeck,  Schadow, 
Veit,  Julius  Schnorr,  and  other  kin* 
dred  spirits,  founded  at  Rome  about 
the  year  1810.  Piety  was  the  one 
thing  needfiil ;  the  studio  was  to  be- 
come again  the  cell  of  a  cloister ;  art 
must  he  not  only  exclusirely  tpU- 
gious,  but  also  thoroughly  Catholic ; 
taking  its  themes  from  the  legends  of 
saints  and  tV^e  Vmtot^  of  martyrs, 
and  seekuig  ita  mQ^c\&  vu.  ^^  9a^>aq 


and  undeveloped  works  of  dn 
Raphaclites, 

In  the  endteaa  aenes  of  Mai 
and  delineations  of  the 
raptures  and  tortures  of  M| 
and  women^  which  was  thn  m 
this  false  principle,  tliete  irai, 
ably,  a  lack  of  indiTidua)  da 
ization,  which  forced  thd 
der  to  render  his  pictuftt 
to  take  refuge  in  a  mystic 
symbolism,  extending  to  htm 
and  attitude;  and  calling  into  i 
the  critic's  s^sthetic  aeoM  i 
than  bis  ingenuity  in  giiMill 
dies.  [We  have  examplc9ofi 
cesHive  use  of  attributes,  wh* 
served  to  make  confusion  ww 
founded,  in  tho  8t  Cecilia  i 
wig  Schnorr,  with  her  ^» 
golden  girdle»  sandab  ' 
ribbons,  light-brown  ii 
on  her  breast,  right  arm  -ij 
with  two  golden  braceSeti^  kt 
signifying  some  trial,  a«piial 
virtue ;  and  in  the  ance  popull 
ings  of  Kunge,  the  bordess  d 
are  crowded  with  crottea,  nu 
lets,  thorns^  flowers,  and  dlieri 
atic  objects,  intended  to  b#  i! 
tory  of  the  centml  picture. 
influence  of  this  acJiool  u 
was,  nevertheless,  beuefk 
spects :  first,  in  awakeoinj 
ligious  spirit,  at  a  tinui 
in  danger  of  f 
fie©,  and   dnge; 

decorative  art ;  and,  s^contQy^ : 
ing  it  from  the  narrow  Um 
which  had  been  imposed  it| 
through  thA  preponderance 
plastic  or  sculpturesque  style  » 
David  and  Raphael  Meng»;  i 
one,  who  has  seen  the  dfisigot 
brothers  Hiepenluinaefi  la  * 
**  Geuoveva,'*  the  oorapodttic 
Faust  and  the  Xib^laiigen  k 


>1CTI1W. 


Recent  Worh^  in  German  Theology. 


ind  Overbeck,  and  the  grand 
the  Casa  Bartholdi  and 
Massimi^  will  nnderestt- 
▼alae  of  this  organized  pro- 
iDting  against  the  two  eyils 
&ned  it.  Unfortunately, 
Hon  against  the  severe  eim- 
graceful  naivete  of  Greek 
folloired  hy  a  recoil  into 
ite  extremes;  and  the  ** re- 
enthusiasm  for  a 
moxe  splritnal  form  of  art 
iteirioiated  into  superstition^ 
the  most  fanatical  spirit 
ipropi^andisin.  Soon|  bow- 
most  talented  of  these 
discovered  in  the  produc- 
\3mB^J  of  their  pupils^  that  a 
ia  not  sufficient  to  heau- 
diawing  and  monoto- 
i^j  or  to  compensate  for 
it  tioagination.  The  doc- 
branded  as  heresy  every 
»ee  of  the  antique  in  the 
fcion  of  Christian  myths 
idoned.  The  £nescoes  of 
ajid  Schnorr,  in  the  Lud' 
auid  iQ  the  Royal  Falaco 
ahow  a  renewed  stady  of 
.even  Sdtadow  and  Orer- 
'  succeeded  in  getting 
of  the  narrow  ctrdo  of 
and  in  wboM  pictorea 
eoald  di«eef»  **m>  liealtJiy 
iZ  did  not  dj«km  to  take  iWir 
[from  claasie  and  Getiaatt 
fimii  pioDUMi  at  well  aa  Mr 
Xko  ddwl  fiwite  of 
mhnoL  of  paaufog^  after 
>  fiov  acdwrral  tea* 
re  been  realiaed  by  (}onio- 
gifiod  poptl, 

•r 

^  m  tbai  i«al  wodc  of  | 

of  tbe   Ht»:  ^Om  m 


upon  sculpture,  in  overcoming  a  too 
servile  and  pedantic  adherence  to  an- 
tique types,  and  in  combining  with 
the  superior  By  mm  etry  and  perfection 
of  classic  forms,  the  greater  breadth 
and  depth  of  thought  and  sentiment 
developed  by  Christian  ctviUsatioa, 


RECENT  WORKS  IN  GERMAN  TH^ 
OLOGT. 

A  GOOD  geography  of  Palest ine^ 
brought  np  to  the  time,  and  contain* 
ing  the  latest  results  of  investigation, 
will  hava  a  bearty  welcome  from 
scholars.  Bat  such  books  as  Dr. 
C.  E.  Hergt  has  published  (Leipaic, 
1871,  pp.  206),  only  darken  counsel 
by  words  without  knowledge*  He 
has  not  learned  what  tlie  travelleis 
and  scientists  have  found  itt  tHo 
Sacred  Land  in  these  last  years*  lie 
does  not  know  the  height  of  Mt. 
Hermon,  or  where  the  moimtains  of 
Gilead  are,  or  that  the  people  of  Gali- 
lee in  the  time  of  Christ  were  genouia 
Jews.  He  intisU  that  no  CfanttiaiM 
bare  eatered  the  niotqiM  of  Abcalian 
at  HebvoDy  and  sbova  IIm  Dead  ftea 
asatfibQtaiyoftbeBodSta.  Bergt 
wOl  oot  sapetaede  Eitt«r. 

The  critical  eiiMtiiaHi^  of 
stMtes  by  Dr.  Gmm 
'm  sovaial  Dcsptcta^  L  Tlio  late  ori- 
gin Mrigiiri  to  tW  boolcr— 8  BXX 
%  Tbal  it  ii  a  •o^iW  opo 
liiaooatt.  a.  TbatUki 
MoaJy  wtppoetd,  m  aetyliflil  fcatlry  i«t 


Talue  ot  tbe  imiojc  oohsiau  m  its  iftrgd  tiaiiB»  JUioiit  AJ 

tiae  of  less  known  Jewbh  Apocrypha,  upon  theColoss 

and  its  extraordinarj  critical  insight  Petrine  letter 

and   thoroughness*      Its   conclasions  date  than    the 

will  not  be  acceptable  to  the  orthodox  of  course  denic 

school.      (Leipsic,   1869,   pp.    Ixxvi  The  only  genui 

402.)  are  thoi^e  of  Ji^ 

Dr.    Erich    Haupt,  in  his  defence        And    in    an 

of  the  Four  Evangelists,  as  accurate  translates  and  i 

Hebraists  in  their  quotation  from  the  to  the  Hebrew; 

Jewish  Bible^  has  an  excellent  inten-  Jamea.      The 

tion,  but  has  nia<le  very  poor  work  of  written  from  Ji 

it,  aa  any  well-informed  scholar  would  of  Paul,  for  th 

know  beforehand.      The  evangelists  in  Italy,     The 

quote  from  sound  and  for  "  accomoio-  *'  antipauline/' 

datioOj''  and  are  not  concerned  to  be  the  other,  Ewa! 

verbally  accurate,  or  to  ascertain  the  appear, —  carefi 

original    meaning  of   their   citation,  bold   conjecture 

The  "argument  from  prophecy,"  so  dogmatism*     O 

called,  has  become  useless  in  defend-  adopt  his  theoj 

ing  the  divine  mission  of  Jesus.     The  ment  to  suppori 

remarksofHerrHaupt  on  the  Sermon  praise  of   Kwa 

on   the   Mounts  and  the  relation  of  writing  is  alw 

Jesus  to  the  Jewish  Law,  are  wise  and  is  not   lig 

and  well-considered*     (Colberg,  1871,  like  the  writing 

pp.  343.)  tis.      It   is  im 

The     worst    quarrels    are    family  books  of  the  p 

quarrels,  and  no  dispute  ia  so  uuro-  growing  n*spet! 

lenting  as  that  of  near  kindred.    This  his  consciention 
remark   is   illustrated    in   the  newly-        Few  scholan 


fir 


Seeent  Works  in  German  Theology. 


741 


fcl  Fachs,  For  comparative 
the  writingd  of  Bar  He- 
iuvalaable.     (Halle,  1871, 

fks  of  Jacob  of  Sanig  have 
lie-ed  for  some  years.  The 
lier  of  thera  comes  in  a  poem 
tnar^  printed  from  a  raauu- 
the  Vatican  library,  and 
Joseph  Zimgerle*  It  haa 
I  not  only  as  illustrating 
tre,  but  as  showing  the 
tore  of  the  Syriac  church 
nntog  of  the  sixth  century. 
eot  of  the  Jewish  fitory  of 
ot  the  most  delicate  of 
likes  her  crime  the  result 
tt  of  feeling.  She  is  led 
r  aDxioos  wish  to  be  ances- 
Messiah,  and  to  share  in 
lonor  of  belonging  to  his 
fejTian  writers  are  not  care- 
id  anachronisms.  Jacob 
>ri  a  bishop,  and  a  saint  of 
Cliorch  \  and  was  held  in 
)%  hoDor,  in  spite  of  the 
rlliodoxy  of  some  of  his 
le  is  called  by  his  admir- 
^Harp  of  the  Orthodox 
Dd  **  The  Flute  of  the  Holy 
Innspruck,  1871,  pp.  20.) 
ck  volume  of  Dr,  Frans 
icb  he  modestly  entitles  an 
(Grundriss)  of  Christian 

Pistory,  i*  a  very  thorough 
account  of  the  condition 
of  theological  opinion  in 
if  the  patristic  period.     It 
ided,   as  dogmatic  hisstory 
by    chronological    lines* 
f  of  the  different  doctrines 
traced,  and  their  mutual 
ted  out     The  theol- 
t  century  is    treated 
fulness^  and  particularly 
of  the  idea  of   the  God- 
iL     (Beriin,  1870,  pp. 


Some  three  years  ago,  Dr.  Frans 
Kaulen,  in  his  elaborate  "  History 
of  the  Vulgate  Version  of  the  Bible/' 
showed  us  a  modem  scholar  to  whom 
this  Latin  copy  of  the  dirine  word  is 
the  genuine  voice  of  the  Divine  Spirit, 
He  now  follows  it  up  with  a  "  Hanri- 
Book  of  the  Vulgate/*  in  which  he 
tries  to  show  the  origin^  and  the 
method  of  the  translation.  After  a 
short  introduction  on  the  "sources," 
he  goes  on  to  give  an  elementary 
treatise  on  the  Vulgate  Latin,  in  its 
orthography,  its  etymology,  its  syn- 
tax, and  its  peculiar  rhetorical  forme, 
sometimes  concise,  sometimes  pleonas- 
tic; ending  with  a  catalogue  of  in- 
correct translations,  and  an  excellent 
index*  We  may  complain  that  so 
thorough  a  work  should  take  such 
small  heed  of  the  influence  of  the 
earlier  Italic  upon  the  Vulgate  ;  and 
we  cannot  sympathize  with  the  evi- 
dent preference  of  the  Latin  above 
the  Greek  and  Hebrew.  (Matnei 
1870,  pp.  xii.  280.) 

That  John  Sylvester  Fannontus, 
the  lirst  Hungarian  translator  of  the 
New  Testament,  should  have  been  so 
long  neglected  by  German  scholars,  is 
certainly  surprising  and  lamentable. 
Yet  this  will  hardly  justify  the  fierce 
tone  of  the  Catholic  Professor,  Joseph 
Danko,  in  writing  of  the  works  and 
influence  of  the  gifted  scholar.  If 
Pannonius  was  always  Catholic,  he 
was  liberal  in  his  theology,  defended 
the  doctrine  of  justification  by  faith, 
and  had  Melancthon  for  his  friend. 

How  sadly  to-day  is  the  Papal 
Hierarchy  wounded  in  the  house  of 
its  friends  I  Now  comes  the  learned 
Dr,  John  Francis  Ritter  von  Schulte, 
Professor  in  Prague,  with  a  most 
ominous  volume  on  the  relation  of 
councils,  bishops,  and  popes,  and 
shows  that,  for  a  thousand  years,  the 
Boman  Bishop  had  no  power  to  rule 


742 


Recent  Works  in  German  Theology. 


councils  or  to  siammon  them,  and  tbat 
they  were  wholly  free  from  bia  dicta- 
tion. He  cuts  away  the  foundation 
from  the  Vatican  Synod  most  fatally, 
yet  all  the  time  with  a  grave  dignity. 
The  pope  rules  not  by  his  own  right, 
but  by  the  grace  of  the  Church. 
(Prague,  1871,  pp,  viii.    286.) 

Yet  the  pope  may  find  a  crumb  of 
comfort  in  Buch  works  as  that  of 
Herr  Alfred  von  Reumont,  who,  in 
his  tract,  **Pro  Romano  Poutifice" 
(Bonn,  1871,  pp,  30),  sturdily  main- 
tains that  the  Church  cannot  stand, 
unless  the  temporal  rule  of  his  Holi- 
ness, which  has  lasted  for  eleven  cen- 
turies, is  upheld  in  its  integrity.  He 
thinks,  nevertheless,  that  the  Vatican 
Council  was  a  great  mistake ;  that  its 
decrees  will  not  be  held  as  binding, 
and  that  it  will  injure  alike  the  Cath- 
olic world,  the  clergy,  the  episcopate, 
and  the  papacy.  Will  the  pope  ac- 
cept such  a  half-way  advocate^  souud 
on  the  temporal  power,  but  heretical 
on  papal  infallibility  ? 

In  these  days,  when  the  Italian 
king  is  opening  and  overturning  the 
cloisters  of  his  new  nation,  it  is  inter- 
esting to  read  of  the  service  of  the 
philosophic  Austrian  emperor  in  that 
kind  a  hundred  years  ago.  Adam 
Wolf,  in  a  small  volume  (Vienna, 
187 1,  pp.  viL  174),  graphically  ex- 
poses the  havoc  which  was  made  in 
the  Austrian  cloisters  from  1770  to 
1790j  when  nearly  eight  hundred  con- 
vents were  cleared  of  their  inmates, 
and  more  than  twelve  million  gulden 
were  happily  realized  from  the  sale  of 
the  confiscated  property.  Unfortu- 
nately, the  work  was  not  as  complete 
and  impartial  as  the  similar  work 
which  Victor  Emanuel  is  doing,  and 
no  less  than  fourteen  humJred  and 
twenty-five  monastic  establishments 
were  left  in  the  Austrian  land.  Joseph 
IL  died  too  soon* 


Edward  Grimm's  Latin ^ 
30thofMay,  1870,  atJeu 
his  degree  of  Doctor  ia 
an  eloquent  and  piqu&iit 
Luther'a  life  in  that  cityj| 
in  his  controversy  with  Ca 
helps  in  an  incidenta] 
trate  one  of  the  most  imf 
sages    in   the   life   of 
(Jena,  1871,  pp,  271.) 

Prof  G.  Plitt,  in  his  I 
tures  on  Lutheran  Mis^io 
a  good  deal  of  ground. 
a  good  spirit.      But  he 
importan  t     th  i  n  gs,  —  t  ho] 
mission    in    China,    for 
and  he  confounds  tlie  orid 
missions  with  the  general] 
spirit    of    the    E^angelii 
He  is  too  much  of  a 
identifies  Lutheranism 
lute  gospel,  more    than 
this  topic  ought  to.     (Eril 
pp.  viii.  327.) 

It  seems  ludicrous,   in 
advanced  state  of  theologiei 
and  ecclesiastical  parties  i 
to  bring  forwartl  and  def 
notion  of  the  sufficiency 
burg  Confession  as  a  bondi 
eal  union.    One  might  as 
harmonize   and   hold 
Xew-En gland  churches 
of  Cotton  Mather  or  Joa 
wards.  In  attempting  this! 
Zoeckler  only  repeats  att] 
worn  out,  and  multiplies 
monplaces  of  dogmatic  U\ 
book  is  out  of  time.  (Fr 
pp.  viii,  335.) 

What  Carl  Schwarts 
sing,  Pastor  August  Wer 
for  Herder;  demonst 
as   a  theologian,"    is 
volume.     His  met 
ing  one  of  suhjec 
reader   in   Mr.  WeWs  biog 
Theodore  Parker;  ooroj 


BectrU   Works  in  Germcm  Thmlogy^ 


^.^'  the  gro«iii4  m^jun  mimI  tgwn* 

[  endUeds  rep<titjaii%  ftad  bceddsg 

7t2k0t]ire«loCtie 


be  ejiaggotatos  Ae  cntjc^  ability 
thfi  Crefwam  pott  and  lantweiiteil- 
^Ve  Imre  t0  take  Hends/s  tlMO- 

tjr,    and  cMUMii  iiilaw  hkm  m  bis 

.  s  from  tli«  text  of  the  Scztp- 

erlin,  1371,  pp.  Tii-  ^tSL) 

seeoad  Toiiuie  oC  Dr.   CmH 

liectedTreatiflc%''  awt- 

:  r^HB  tiie  StodottA  aoii  £ii- 

huJwiappMiad.  llHMbfitti 

•thkd 

aa    well     AA 

WekmTedaai 

s  fiuaooapok 

C4>  Stmofla  and  Laeke,  whkli 

atir   la  tJia  t]lea]i>gBeal  wodd 

jeaxs  ago.     Hitficli  wu  aa  ad- 

acliolarj  aad  k  aliiaja  tater* 

aad    allien  «vesi    wben   lua 

its  afe  ooe-aiiial,  aad  be  fiifla 

(Gedi%  IBTl,  pp^  vIL    as 


t<»  Jewisb  Auahgjf  wbieb 

aa  ptelifiis  aa  Cbrntauiy  we 

.  M.  J.  MniU&yeri  ealo- 

St  of  tbe  iabonv  ■■ifeIingl^ 

I  geaiaiy  of  JkJtfkm  of  Sofa, 

'Babb*^  of  tbe  dur- 

itaij.  HeorerrateatbitXa]^ 

Mat  aacae  is  greater 

aebiereoMiiL    Kabb  vas  a 

,  and  a  good  maat  but  foote  a 

Ibasapfopbei;  aadtbevead- 

bii  atwy  laabM  it  atmige  tbat 

jnadaowideafiHBa.  Dr.Maelil- 

;  vwlc  »  doU,  aocwitbataiidmg 

,  (Letpui^  1B71,  pp.  xL 

tbifd  diriiigfi  of  Dr.  Geiger  a 

\  Jiwfaif^r  aftd  iti  Hiitorj  cor* 

of  Ibiir  bnadrsd  ftmrt^ 

\  Am  tbirteeatb  to  tbe  tixteeatb 

iaclnfire.     It  u  aiarfced  bj 


743 


V  frooaoiB  &O01 
prejudice,  and  eatboUc  temper,  wbicb 
obaracteriaed  tbe  pcerigo^  Tolumea. 
Getger  ie  one  of  those  Jews  who  can 
do  jwfciea  to  tbe  ponikm  and  feeling 
of  adYeiaane%  wbtle  be  ta  lojal  to  bis 
owm  &idL  (Breabko,  1871,  pp.  tuL 
2IO0L) 

bb  life  of  Joba  Beaebliiv 

t  of  the  six- 

tecntli  caaivrff  Getger  fbds  a  con- 

genial  tbeme.    The  libend  Jews  eoiml 

atooe  of  their  heroes  this  brare  Tindi- 

caior  of  their  honor  and  their  race^ 

in  aa  age  of  penecntion.     That  he  b 

aCbriettaaj  only  eahaLacea  hia  worth  in 

tbei^  eje&      Beocbiin  vae  aa   wi^, 

laoat  aa  witty,  aa  bis  riral  £ra^ 

hnt  vaa    a   far    nobler    man. 

^icipaie,  1871,  pp.  niii  488,) 

Haa  JodatsQi  any  dogmas  ?  Kabbi  . 
Low  of  Sxegedin,  a  learned  Talmudiat, 
affirma  that  it  haa,  in  a  nhort  tract  of 
Ibrty-eight  pages  (Peeth,  1871).  The 
spirit  of  hU  exeeJknt  tract,  aa  well 
its  standpoint,  may  be  judged 
^mn  bis  statement  that  *Uhe  only 
trae  £sitb  ia  one  which  can  lire  in 
peace  with  reason ;  that  no  other  £&itb 
ia  atable,  or  caa  paaa  tbe  oideal  of 
tinl  and  temptation.  Only  sncb  a 
£iith  can  bring  s^avory  fruit  &om  fra- 
grant bloseoma.  Eeasoa  is  the  centre 
of  Jewisb  theology.  *'  This/'  saya 
Abeam  Ben  Ezra,  *'  is  the  angel  be- 
tween man  and  his  God.** 

In  fire  discoorsea,  entitled  "  Beae* 
leai  Elobim,'  Babbt  Adolf  JeUiack 
efofseatly  orgea  optbnaan  aa  Ibe  tzae 
Jewisb  doctrine;  that  baoianity  ta 
dirtne,  and  tbe  **  perfect  man  "  is  tbe 
race,  combining  the  nrtnee  of  eadi  in* 
dividnaL  God's  image  ta  aoC  in  any 
one  man,  but  in  tbe  race.  Tbe  Ibor 
cbacacteristiea  of  atan  are^  tbal  be  ia 
tsler  of  creation,  tba&  be  aeeba  ibe 
good,  that  be  ee^a  tbe  tra^  tbai  be 
aeeka  tbe  boMti&L    Thefiav 


744 


Eecent  Works  in  German  Theology, 


on  which  Judaism  rests  are,  mataali, 
dependence,  personal  freedom,  broth- 
erly love,  and  the  brotherhood  of  all 
men.  This  world  is  the  best  of 
worlds.  Rabbi  Jelliuck  predicts  that 
Judaism,  thus  dofinedf  will  be  the 
universal  religion.  The  volume  is 
admirably  printed,  as  such  glowing 
discourse  should  be.  (Vienna,  1871, 
pp.84.) 

Oscar  Zeiner  publishes  an  interest- 
ing circular  letter,  by  an  anonymous 
Jew  to  his  fellow-religionists,  concern- 
ing their  duty  in  the  new  German 
kingdom.  He  sees  in  this  a  new  chance 
for  a  closer  union  of  the  synagogues, 
and  for  a  freer  discussion  of  great 
social  questions.  Now  the  Jews  can 
prove  that  they  hold  the  key  to  the 
world's  progress,  and  may  be  the 
Bavioursof  society.  The  style  of  the 
para  p!  J  let  is  prolix,  and  the  logic  not 
always  clear.  But  its  earnei^t  exhor- 
tation is  in  a^good  spirit.  (Lcipsic, 
1871,  pp.  24.)  * 

That  the  question  of  "  Religion  in 
the  Schools*'  has  importance  in  Ger- 
many, appears  in  the  ardent  essay  of 
Karl  Richter,  "The  Emancipation 
of  the  School  from  the  Church.^'  (Leji> 
eic^  pp*  270.)  Richter  would  not 
banish  all  religious  teachings,  but 
only  dogmatic  teacliiug;  not  reli- 
gious ideas  or  facts,  but  only  creeds 
and  forma  of  sound  words. 

The  legends  of  the  life  of  Confu- 
cius are  so  con  trad  ictory,  as  to  make 
tt  difficult  to  say  how  much  is  fuct, 
and  how  much  is  fiction.  Yet  Dr. 
John  H.  Flath  attempta  this  in  a 
quarto  volume,  published  by  the 
Royal  Academy  of  Bavaria.  His 
work  is  compiled  from  Chinese  sources, 
and  is  the  fruit  of  patient  research. 
Nevertheless,  it  adds  little  to  what 
was  already  known  of  tl»e  divine 
philosopher  of  the  Flowery  Empire. 
(  Munichj  1870,  pp.  84.) 


The  great  highway  of  the 
can  continent  has  been  celebi 
speech  and  song  in  these  laftt 
but  by  no  one  with  more  eath 
prophecy  than  by  C.  H.  C,  F 
hise^ay  *'0n  the  Signifieancj 
Atlantic-Pacific  Railway  forth 
dom  of  God."  (Berlin,  1871 
136.)  He  sees  in  this  achi< 
the  emancipation  of  the  hi 
conversion  of  the  red  men,  fi 
races,  the  liglit  of  the  gospel 
the  heathen  in  Asia  and  the  L 
the  sure  fulfilment  of  prophec; 
railway  is  tbe  chief  of  the 
aries.  Possibly  u  trip  over  1 
way  might  have  moderat 
what  his  transport.  The  i; 
thus  far  of  the  enterprise  ha^ 
in  all  respectSj  evangelfcah 

That  the  work  of  Dr.  Henry 
ley,  on  the  BouF^  PhysioJo 
reached  a  second  edition  in  a 
translation,  is  proof  that  ifi 
partment  of  science  the  sneei 
z'ig,  that  the  English  have  no 
ship,  is  not  deserved.  The  tia 
b)^  Dr.  Budolf  Boehm  is  a  gi 
Maudsley,  however,  is  n 
materialiij^t  enough  for  aomi 
German  brethren. 

A  singular  and   costly  pa 
of  the  St.  Petersburg  Presa^ 
on  the  occasion  of  the  twenty 
niversaryof  the  President  of 
Petersburg  Bible  Society,  is 
tion  of  "  Tlie  Lf0rd*s  Prayer,' 
hundred  and  eight  different 
all   spoken  in  the   Kussian 
This  is  one-third  of  the   ren 
all  known  languages.     The 
and  litctrary  finish  of  this  \ 
in  the  highest  style.     It  m 
quarto,  of  one  hundred  paget, 
as  curious  is  the  Hebrew  frra 
of  "  Paradise  Lost,*'  io   blaq 
wliich    has    recently     i^pptl 
Viennai 


L^ 


m 


The  Law  of  PunhhmenL 


T4S1 


LAW  OF  PUXISHME>'T> 

LC  DK  GlSAKDIX  IS  koOWD 

writer,  on  a  great 
'  of  iociad  and  political  topics. 
I  of  pronounced  but  erratic  ge- 
,  of  ranitT  and  conceits,  and 
poBBessed  by  an  insatmble 
re  1  ty  and  notc» r i  t?  ty  ; 
us  must  be  carefully 
I  to  6nd  the  gold  which  they 
tionably  contain.  For  many 
has  made  penal  law,  in  ail 
9,  a  special  and  exhaustive 
The  book  before  us,  which  is, 
en  takes  occasion  to  remifid 
[.^it  of  twenty  years'  research 
Section^  has  been  anxiously 
by  his  ^ends,  who  predict 
will  have  a  wide  circulation 
thinking  people,  and  great 
in  shaping  future  diBcm^ion 
•ubject  of  which  it  treat*, 
opes  may,  and  probaiblj  will, 
KtrmiragaQL  Thef«  ate  oertain 
'  defects  in  all  of  M.  de  Glrar- 
|i  wdtin  gs,^ —  a  cnuleneas  of  though  t 
inmt  of  logical  pfmakmy  m  fan- 
^  atriTtag  iter  eth^  Ukd  a 
toaaing  Tehevcnee  af  ihHodc,  — 
Ji  mii^  alvaja  n^r  their  hdlB- 

K(l  the  author  a  ivpaiaAaatt. 
oat  de  pBur"  is  naHLed  bf 
iwmbm  in  tiwir  ai^kal  aad 

tt^  aa  cm  af  tJw 
of  ceomt  f<Blribtttiaaa  to 
It  ia  aapaaaya  to 


reader  to  consider  a  i 
on  the  whole  scheme  of 
legislation.  To  aUiIi^h  all 
on  human  liborty*  leaving  tho 
dom  of  action  co^'xtennin^  with  iho 
freedom  of  thought  aud  tlie 
of  ftpeech,  is  tho  purj>o«e  of  the 
^Vside  fnnn  thi»  fundamonta)  trUoflH^ 
uTid  for  tho»o  who  n^joct  it  in  adrattoi^ 
tho  treatise  ^mttHonHeM  great  vivUiti,  nol 
only  in  virtue  of  tlio  faeU  and  tlgutaa 
which  it  embraccst  but  alsi»  in  virtkHk 
of  the  reasons  which  givH  v^vm  lo 
any  eonaoieutious  atunupt  to  aolra 
tho  great  pcobloma  undorlyictg  our 
civilij^tlan. 

A  clear  and  oonoiso  aipoailion  of 
the  author'i  views  is  fuuinl  m  the 
prefaiie.  He  thtTe  relaltm  huw  lu  IHilU 
he  was  ilr«t  led  to  roib'tt  on  thc^  unity 
and  ifidi visibility  of  liberty,  anil  to 
ask  biuiself  whether  colli (iletM  fl^rvduui 
of  utHou  din*M  not  fMJK»w  lotiittaily 
from  (ri^'*k*m  of  th ought  and  spi^cHJi. 
After  long  study  hu  wris  atft«»  ti>  an* 
swer  the  question  in  thn  alllrtnalirat 
Uherty  b  one  atui  iitdivlslbls,  tot 
when  it  is  ilivid^d  it  vttm^  io  he  Ihe 
free,  and  becorues  tlie  aHiitrairy^  Tt 
ptore  tbii^  take  tlie  fact  that  tlM<rii  is 
no  itivahable  standard  of  right  and 
vioiig;  that  wbkh  one  atate,  «#iie  aife^ 


Since  tlieft  holds  to  murder,  in  most 
cases,  the  relation  of  cause  to  effect, 
to  reader  murder  more  and  more  rare 
it  is  necessary  to  crush  it  in  its  germ, 
which  is  theft  To  crush  theft,  it  is 
necessary  to  attack  it  in  its  sources, 
which  are  ignorance,  misery,  and 
vagabondage.  But  it  is  within  the 
power  of  society  to  remove,  almost 
wholly,  these  causes*  In  order  to 
make  man  the  image  of  civilization, 
he  must  be  led  hy  the  curb  wliich  is 
in  him ;  and  that  curb  is  not  the 
pain  which  irritates,  it  is  not  the  fear 
which  debases,  it  is  the  reason  which 
elevates.  When  society  punishes  a 
man,  it  exceeds  its  right ;  when  it 
does  not  educate  him,  it  fails  in  its 
duty.  Do  not  punish  man,  educate 
him ;  and  the  current  of  society  will 
become  clear,  limpid,  and  nataral. 
**  Dare  to  aflirmt"  continues  M,  de 
Girardin,  "  that  man^  brother  of  man, 
has  no  right  to  punish  his  imago  and 
his  equal.  Dare  to  affirm,  that  if 
society  has  the  right  of  protecting 
itself,  it  has  no  right  to  employ  the 
barbarous  means  which  it  now  employs, 
—  means  which  injure  it  muro  than 
they  profit  it,   which  threaten  more 


has  to  offer.  T! 
Jirst  part  treat  o: 
the  legitimacy  i 
ishing;  of  its  nti 
of  the  penal  seal 
ouB  sort^  of  pui 
now  indicted;  0 
ishments ;  of  th^ 
alties  and  thei^ 
first  chapter  is  f 
lish  from  historjT 
penal  servitude  ( 
respect  from  othl 
and  that  all  th« 
slavery  apply  wil 
ac^Ly  which  soc 
of  **  punish  mentj 
of  liberty.  The^ 
the  legitiraa<;7  i 
ishing,'*  treats  ^ 
destructive  eriti< 
admirable  so  far 
theory  which  ho 
bats  is  that  of 
iin»f  lit)usseati|  1 
right  of  punish 
*'  social  con  trad 
universally  roje< 
might  have  pai 
aideratioa^      Bli 


The  Lam  of  PuHiskmenL 


741 


r^tt 


eocietjT  pont&hes  in  rtitse  of  tlie 
ol  legitimate  defence,  wlien  iu 
of  pomsLing  h  exeic>£«d  as  a 
ute  for  the  right  of  legitimate 
belonging  to  the  indlriduaL^ 
g  to  6eccari%  de    Broglie, 
tlie  right  of  ptinidhmeBt  is  de- 
horn the  right  of  social  defence. 
Is  requires  ha  to  admit  in  ad- 
of  proof  that  punish  me  nta  in- 
m  penalties  are  effective  as  meas- 
locial  defence*    The  proposition 
oi  he  demonstrated.      The  real 
gcr  to  life  and  property  is  not  from 
sod  murder^hut  from  policemen 
^Idiers,  the  agents  of  law  and 
If  every  citizen  was  hb  own 
'f  and  sergeants  de  vUle  were 
ed,  life  and  property  would  be 
more,    and   liberty  much  le^s^  in 
What  is   gained,   said  de 
Je,  from  a  system  hj  which 
rity  watches  to   turn  from  the 
n  dangers  of  which    he  has  not 
dreamed,  when  that  authority  is 
same  time  master  absolute  of 
and  hia  liberty  ?      Leibnitz 
Joseph     de    Maibtre     derived 
fight  to  punish  from  the  source, 
divine,    of    expiation.      But 
and     by    what   authority    wa3 
deputed  to  enforce,  acconling 
its  hamaa  and  imperfect  measure, 
ties  of  whose    expiatory   effect 
ly  God  can  take  the  degree  ?    How 
aociety    discriminate     between 
iiaIs  who  are  such  from  depraved 
and  criminals  who  are  such 
le  of  inherent  moral  deformi- 
ar  defective  education  ?     In  de- 
of  that  power,  what  becomes  of 
i«M7  of  expiation  ?     Expiation 
m  word  of  no  practical  U9e ;  it  does 
Ukdicate  a  divine  source  from  which 
deduce  the  right  of  punishing, 
mie    is  to  m.ake    reparation. 
pi  in  the  case  of  the  thief 
ia   the  act,  and   obliged  to 


ie3l4>ce  hm  stolen   goods,  an     airest 
repairs   notbtng.      MM.  Cousin   and 
Guizot  druw  the  legality  of  penalties 
from  justice.     But  justice,  as  a  prmc 
tical  concern  in  society^  is  not  ctemi 
or  immutable,  replies  M.  de  GirardiE 
and  cannot  be  made  the  defence 
such  a  power  as  society  claims  whc 
it  deprives  a  man  of  life  or  libertyJ 
And  he  might  have  added  that  justio 
is  held   to   be    the  olgect  of  punish 
ment,  and  that  tbat  which  is  the  ohjec 
of  an  act  cannot,  at  the  same  time 
be  the  ground  of  its  legitimacy,  ex 
cept  on  the  barbarous  principle  tha 
the  end  justifies  the  mean^i.     The  h 
theory  examined  is  Kant^s^that  puc 
ishment  inflicted  by  society  on   on| 
of  its  own  members  is  in  reality  $cl(^ 
punishment,  and  is  from   that  reason 
legitimate.       Our   author    does   not 
seem    to    comprehend    the    Gcrm&a 
philosopher    entirely,   and    dismisse 
him  with  the  remark  that  he  deals  ii 
cheap  paradoxes,  and  that  his 
ment  at   be»t  rests  on  pagan  notion 
of  responsibility. 

To  a  thinker  who  regunh^  the  sub-1 
ject  from  a  point  of  view  purely  ah-l 
stnict  and  metaphysicali  of  coutee  thial 
chapter  is    the   pivotal  point  of  the 
discussion.     M.  de   GirarUin,  denying 
tbe  ri^ht  of  society  to  inflict  corporal 
punishment,  gallantly  comes  forward 
to   establish    a   negative  proposition^  J 
when  he  miglit  have  availed  himself  f 
of  the  disputant's  riglit  to  throw  thai 
burden  of  proof  on  those  who  main*] 
tain  the   afBrmative.     To  show  thai] 
the    affirmative    is    by    no     meanfl 
demonstrated,  he  might  have  pointed  | 
to  the  fact,  that,  out  of  a  dozen  emi« 
nent  thinkers,  nearly  every  one  has  a  I 
theory  of  his  own,  while  each  rejectal 
the  theories  of  his   rivals.      lliif  ia] 
not  conclusive  proof  of  the  non-ex»M- 
cnce  of  the  right;  but  it  proves  thutj 
tharo  is  not,  in  support  of  the  ground 


748 


TTte  Law  of  Punishment 


of  the  riglit,  that  harmony  of  jadg- 
inent  on  the  part  of  publicists  which 
alotio  could  disarm  scepticism. 

But  society  is  very  arbitrary,  and 
hi\a  aD  active  contempt  for  logic 
No  one  kno^vs  this  better  than  Emile 
de  Girardio,  who  has  lived  through 
half  a  dozen  French  revolutions;  and 
ill  the  remaining  chapters  of  the  first 
part  of  his  book,  he  devotes  himself 
to  a  careful  and  minute  examination 
of  the  several  kinds  and  degrees  of 
punidhmeut,  with  reference  to  their 
practical  effect  on  malefactors  and  on 
society.  We  can  lieartily  commend 
moat  of  the  features  of  this  portion 
of  the  work.  His  partition  of  the 
subject  13  specially  convenient,  while 
his  classification  of  penalties  is  at 
once  neat,  simple,  and  accurate. 
Brushing  away  the  refinements  of 
the  Code  Penal  in  France,  he  ar- 
ranges its  numerous  penalties  under 
live  grand  divisions,  namely :  1.  Pri- 
vation of  life,  or  capital  punisliment. 
2,  Privation  of  liberty,  or  imprison- 
ment 3.  Privation  of  country,  or 
banishment.  4.  Privation  of  rights, 
civil,  political,  and  domestic.  5»  Pri- 
vation of  a  sum  of  money,  or  fines. 
Each  of  these  divisions  forms  the 
subject  of  a  chapter.  The  method 
of  treatment  in  al!  cases  is  the  same. 
The  author  first  enumerates  under 
each  division  the  several  condemna- 
tions which  it  includes,  and  then  pro- 
ceeds to  learn,  not  only  by  a  priori 
reasoning  whether  they  are  likely  to 
fulfil,  but  also  by  the  records  of 
hiiitory  and  the  testimony  of  experts 
whether  they  actually  do  fulfil,  their 
bene  lice  nt  purpose.  We  need  not 
say  that  he  reaches  a  negative  an- 
swer. This  was  a  foregone  conclu- 
sion. 

But  there  is  one  fatal  defect  in  the 
method  pursued.  The  enumeration 
weakens  the  case  Vu  i^a^ct  lo  ^V  iW 


things  which  are  not  enamerateci 
the  logicians-     Kow,  M.  de  Ginii 
may  show  the  futility  of  all  Rxi^tii 
penalties  for  crime,  and  yet  bA 
make  out  his  case;  for  it  ciuifiol 
pretended  that  society  has 
the  punishments  which  bui 
unity  can  invent ;  and  until 
are  possible  have  been  put  in  pi 
and  been  found  wanting,  ouraut! 
argument,    be   it    of   more   ni 
strength,  must  remain  an  iDdud 
and  not  a  demonstration. 

In  reality^  however,  the  qacstw 
not  an  absolute  hut  a  relatire 
Accept  the  fact  that  soinety  mt] 
at  least  that  it  does^  take  rep 
measures  against  crime,  and  the 
lem  becomes  simplified  to  a 
the  relative  efficiency  of  difFeceot 
terns.  In  such  a  trial,  mo»ui 
statesman  would  condemn  a 
because  it  failed  to  prevent 
He  would  condemn  it  and  abolii 
if  he  found  that  under  another 
tem,  or  in  the  absence  of  any 
thieves  and  murderers  flourished 
vigorously ;  but  he  would  not 
down  jails  and  dismiss  jailers 
they  fail  to  produce  the  mil  lea 
M.  de  Girardin  falls  into  no  su( 
consequence  as  this.  He  piouoi 
the  prevailing  system  of  bodily 
ties  a  failure,  not  because  it  doca 
extinguish  crime,  but  becaust»  it  efr 
courages  crime.  In  other  word*,  bi 
denies  altogether  both  the  miDatoif 
and  the  reformatory  character  d 
prisons,  and  Iiolds  that  they  bave  tli 
opposite  tendency  of  haniening  tW 
inmates.  The  problem  then  is  ta^ 
place  this  system  by  one  which, 
equally  or  more  powerful  to  pi 
crime  at  the  outset,  shall  be  less 
nicious  in  forming  tiud  perpetuatini 
a  distinct  criminal  chiiis.  How  xi^ 
to  be  brought  about?  Mon 
^^\ia\tf\$^^  and  Beccaria  ft 


The  Law  of  Punishment 


749 


td|  the  principle,  tbat  the  effica- 

liCNrporal  penalties  does  not  cle- 

<m  their  severity,  but  on  their 

tot  J.      De  Girardin  goes  a  step 

PT*     In  his  view,  the  prevention 

\mt  doc8  not  depend  on  corporal 

ItiM  %\  iill,  but  on  the  degree  of 

city  given    to    convictions    for 

and  to  the  stigma  affixed  bj 

convictions  on  the  giiiUy  par- 

"Penal      publicity'*    is      his 

and  we  invite  the  attention 

interested  readers,  not  only  to 

perfect  sketch  of  the  doctrine, 

the  book  wherein  the  author 

ibr  himself. 

rlaee  of  jails  and  scaffolds,  H, 
irardin  would  introduce  the 
of  Cain,  the  scarlet  letter  of 
Prj*nne.  He  would  retain 
timles,  as  instruments  to  publish  , 
trs  t4>  the  world.  They  should 
be  power  not  to  send  men  to 
bat  to  send  them  out  into 
with  their  record  written  as 
li  on  their  forelieaik.  But  this 
it  is  not  fo  be  carried  to 
lengths,  as  an  inctranient 
Ita  applicatkNi  it  ta  be 
•trictljT  to  tba  interests 
An  enJng  aan  wlio  truly 
doe*  worki  n«ei  lor  te» 
may  have  t]»e  jtMlkial  oen- 
lidaUy  washed  out.  Bat,  until 
oiBeiall J  folof^dy  he  nusii 
and  the  bodan  of 


and    ia    lils   bosinaM^ 
ric  relslioiH^  orasl  kaim 
;  ^  tbe  a«llaw.    Ha  is  a 
Pe!|i1ier.    He  can  nafce  na  l^gal 

am  al  Itti  mm  mk,  aad  ii 

ttaoC    He 
w%.    He 
If,  kill  btrnftH;  «r  tij  bgr  a  loag 


course  of  good  conduct,  pursued  under 
the  most  painful  circumstances,  to  re- 
gain his  old  position  among  men. 

In  connection  with  this  penal 
publicity,  our  author  proposes  to  re- 
tain the  present  system  of  fines  and 
damages,  but  extended  and  improved 
80  as  to  include  the  principle  of  soli-^ 
darity,  or  the  responsibility,  jointly 
and  individually,  of  the  offender  him- 
self, his  futnily,  and  his  township 
commune.  This  arrangement  rtfsts  mi 
two  distinct  hypotheses.  In  the  fint 
place,  according  to  >L  de  Girardin,  tlie « 
family  and  the  township  should  be 
responsible  pecuniarily  for  the  con- 
duct  of  their  members,  l>ecaus<?,  in  the 
great  majority  of  cases,  crime  ts  due 
to  the  failure  of  the  family  and  of  the 
township  to  fulfil  each  its  proper  duttirs 
in  the  way  of  educating  and  training 
the  young.  In  the  second  plae^,  socie- 
ty owes  to  its  own  members  who  may 
be  injured  in  person  or  property  some 
reparation;  and  no  other  arrange- 
ment  is  so  just  as  to  bold  the  culprit^ 
his  friends,  and  hb  township,  in  the 
order  named,  responsible  CordamagtaL 
It  is  also  foond  that  in  the  aaciewl 
States^  at  Venice,  and  wbeiervier  lliie 
system  has  been  tried,  it  bai  pcvfed 
highly  efficient  in  the  pefgptiiig 
crime. 

We  casiBQt  felbw  H*  de  Oitaidte 
tltfovigli  tbafBffiealeatidc»mberMMBa 
■uchinefx  hf  wlikk  be  fupqui  la 
carry  bia  thaofiee  rata  pfactiecu  Let 
If  be  laad  bnefly,  Ubal  lie  adreeatoi  a 
ijilcm^  wlrichr  alUr  ^Afelkais  taaM% 


li0O|  io  Rtmii  §K  wiikii  tbe 
will  faeefirt  a  cetttflcale  (f 


tnetliod  of  carrying  oat  tlio  author's 
views  on  tlic  BUppression  of  crirae, 
tilts  plan  must  bo  regarded  as  means 
to  an  end,  and  need  not  be  accepted 
even  with  those  viewa. 

The  essential  thought  suggested 
bj  the  book  is  this,  that  a  capable 
publicist,  after  many  years'  study  of 
the  subject,  has  put  on  record  his 
opinion  that  our  system  of  penal  laws 
is  a  failure,  and  that  the  punishment 
of  crimo  could  be  more  effeutively 
managed  by  the  abolition  of  all  pains 
inflicted  on  the  body.  Master  **  The 
Scarlet  Letter,"  and  you  have  half  of 
E  m  i  I  e  do  G  i  rard  i  n'  e  sch  em  e,  S  u  pple- 
ment  **The  Scarlet  Letter''  with  a 
system  of  lines,  bearing  on  the  crimi- 
nalj  his  family,  and  society,  and  you 
have  the  whole  of  it, 

Herbert  Tutti^ 


ST,  PAUL. 
This  anonymous  treatise  ^  is  pretty 
well  defi.ned  by  its  title,  and  fully  de- 
scribed in  its  preface,  which  states 
the  writer's  purpose  to  be,  to  **  enable 
the  reader  to  realize  more  adequately 


\  been 

ed  toj 


tion  of  extracts  firl 
ous  archives,  or  . 
comprehensive  wo 
(very  likely)  been 
icon,  intended  to\ 
harmony  beti 
Jewish  Christ 
Gi'ntiles  to  vtl 
doctrine."  Tli" 
modified,  in  quot 
lation  is  taken  to  : 
writings  are  ** 
positions  only  J 
The  spirit  of 
ly  and  thoughtful  j 
little  emotional,  tbi 
the  vitality  and  pi 
tian  i  ty  der  i  ves  from  I 
acter.  It  seeks  ti 
aiming  to  shaf 
that  its  arraj 
judgments  u| 
received  and 
fence  to  any  dog 
lief;  though  its 
of  Paul's  special  iai 
course,  repel  some.  I 
a  fair  and  intelliifl 


P--   -■-' JW^ 


Ufcorb  of  Progrcsa* 


HOURS   OP   WOEK. 

<^fths  Old  Akd  New, — la 

g  ^mewh^t  upoa  the  idea  of 

Liibor  Beformera "  that   eight 

constitutes   the    length    of   a 

work,  it  comes  to  my  mmd  to 

\j  should  eight  lioun  const i- 

dmj^A  work  rather,  than   any 

length  of  time  ?     Suppose  that 

been  the  custom  among  civil- 

attons  to  diTide  the  day  into 

-  iostead  of  twenty-four : 

i  I  ours  make  a  day's  work 

Or  suppose  the  H^j  was  di- 

into  thirty  hours ;  would  eight 

tlien  be  a  day's  work?     And 

laborer  demands  that  his  time 

ah  all  be  cut  down  to  eight 

with    the    pay    of    ten,   why 

be  not,  with  as  much  right 

IS  part,  assign  seren  hours,   six 

four,   two   hours, .  or  half  an 

V  as  enough  to  entitle  him  to  a 

_     day's   pay?     There   is   nothing 

te]'eDtly  in  the  division  of  day  and 
t,  nothing  in  the  vitality  and 
igur  of  the  human  nerves  and  mus* 
hw,  Bothing  anywhere  in  the  aver- 
I,  that  decides  bow  long  a 
y  employ  his  physical  power 
ifwork. 

Does  not  the  demand  on  the  part 
K  dia  laborer  upon  the  Legislature, 
r  CoogTM^  admit  the  power  and 
IS  tight  of  the  State  and  National 
Sgislatores  to  prolong  the  day  to 
bra  hoarsi  ten  hours,  twelve,  or 
leoty? 

tb«re  is    scarcely  any  other 


class  of  laborers  than  those  to  whom 
that  name  is  technically  given,  who 
work  so  little  as  eight  hours  a  day. 
Among  those  who  work  with  their 
hands,  —  yes,  and  with  their  arms 
and  with  their  backs,  and  sides  and 
legs  too,  —  consider  the  farmer,  who 
begins  his  work  with  early  light,  and 
leaves  off  only  at  dxirk,  to  whom 
fourteen  hours  a  day  is  no  unusual 
length:  he  works  as  long,  whether 
he  is  the  employer  or  one  of  the 
hired  men;  and  though  the  outside 
observer,  reflecting  upon  agricultural 
labor,  might  well  wish  that  the  hus- 
bandman could  be  relieved  somewhat 
of  his  long  continuance  of  toil,  yet 
the  laws  of  the  State  cannot  relieve 
him.  The  seasons  themselves,  the 
6x)st  and  the  heat,  the  winds  and  the 
rain,  and  sunrise  and  sunset,  seem  to 
appoint  hia  long  day  to  him.  If  all 
agricultural  laborers  should  combine 
together,  and  refuse  to  work  more 
than  eight  hours  a  day,  the  whole  of 
society  would  be  revolutionized*  It 
would  indeed,  under  present  circum- 
stances, be  impossible  to  feed  the 
world.  The  grain  crop,  and  every 
other  crop,  would  necessarily  be  very 
largely  cut  do  wo.  Butter  could  not 
be  made  for  less  than  a  dollar  a  pound ; 
and  flour  would  be  worth  twenty  dol- 
lars  a  barrel.  It  would  probably  re- 
quire double  the  number  of  laborers 
to  produce  the  present  amount  of  food 
which  the  world  requires.  Those  la* 
borers  would  have  to  be  taken  from 
other  employmeutS)  ot  from  som^  waw 
1U 


752 


Hours  of  Work 


source.  And  there  probably  is  not 
one  farmer  in  a  hundred  now,  hiring 
at  the  present  time  a  roan  or  men,  that 
TTouJd  not  be  obliged  to  gi^e  up  his 
farm,  or  limit  himself  to  such  kind  of 
agricultural  operation  and  produce 
as  he  could  attend  to  himself  alone^ 
with  no  other  result  than  simply  the 
emallest  possible  living.  Yet  the  de- 
mand of  the  mechanic,  or  the  day- 
laborer,  in  the  city^  muat  equally  ap- 
ply to  all  farm-hands. 

It  applies  equally  to  the  capitalist. 
There  are,  doubtless,  some  capital ista 
who  only  lend  money  to  persons  to 
make  use  of  it,  who  do  not  employ 
their  thinking  powers  more  than 
eight  hours  a  day.  But,  apparently, 
men  that  lend  money  spend  much 
more  time  than  that  length  in  the 
Tarious  operations  which  their  pecu- 
liar forma  of  business  require.  And 
capital iij^ts  who  do  not  lend,  but  put 
their  money  to  use  themselves  in  any 
of  the  various  ways  of  manufacture 
and  business,  seem  seldom  to  be  able 
to  escape  from  their  counting-rooms, 
banks,  manufactories,  trarels,  and 
places  and  ways  of  business,  with  the 
little  length  of  day  employed  by  the 
demand  of  the  laborer.  The  various 
classes  of  thinkers  would  be  glad 
enough  if  they  could  limit  their 
1  on g-eoQ tinned  work  to  some  shorter 
penod :  editors  of  newi^papers,  news- 
gatherers,  book-makers,  lawj-ers;  min- 
isteri^j  with  sermons  to  write,  schools 
to  examine^  people  to  visits  funerals 
to  attend  ;  physicians,  with  the  anxie- 
ties of  end  luigered  families  upon  their 
hearts,  and  the  lives  of  patients  in 
their  hands,  called  up  at  any  hour  of 
the  night,  —  called  to  attend  the  day- 
laborer  and  his  family  at  any  hour, 
ftnd  to  stay  with  them  any  length  of 
time,  —  kept  up  uU  day  long,  catch- 
ing ha^ty  and  uncomfortjihlc  sleep : 
§choc>l-teache?a,  v\^o,  *.^ci  «wl  \vav«ii 


hard  brain- work,  and  heart- Wiir 
severest  trials  of  temper,  hU^j 
hours  more  to  learn  \^hat  otliem 
thought  or  have  learned  ta  tr| 
the  best  ways  of  tn^tmction ;  | 
thropis^t^,  that  argue  t) 
day-laborer,  visiting  \s 
ceiving  calls  from  men  and  tru 
mi t tees,  making  addresses  ru  tb 
ings,  and  trarclting  early  an 
thrt>ugh  dold  and  st^rm  to  Vt 
pointments,  —  can  the-ws  accu 
their  work  if  their  hours  are  h 
How  long  is  the  day  of  hard « 
tliesc,  and  such  as  the^e  ? 

How  often  such  men  are  ii 
deprived  of  social  enjoyiii«»iii 
port  unities  for  reading  and 
side  of  their  own   bufi.i 
laborers  tlieraselves  are! 
all   the   hard   bruin *w0rk 
world,  —  capital  iijfs, 
merchants,  editors,    and 
mentioned,  and  others  hk 
how  many  desire  to  limit  t 
eight  hours?  or  wr   *  ' 
do  it  ?  or  would  ff 
itcd    was    less     than     fri 
waste?    Will     our    »tat4»J 
govern  empires  ;  our  kgidli 
ti gating  the  demands  of 
turning  over  in   their  mini 
suggestions  and  argiimen 
hour  men  ;  our  generals  itt 
seeking  to  save    a   nation 
struction,  —  1m 
hours-  work  a. 
work ;    true    men    Jove 
than  any  thing  el5i*.     T' 
what  is  hard.     No  snch 
easy  life.     If  ther  hare 
fortunes  that  mi^^ht 
live  io  luxury,  with  all  m»i 
them  trouble,  thf*y  still 
their  apfiointed  work«  and  c^ 


^\\W ^QcutC^&i  daaeea  of 


Hours  of  Work. 


(53 


he   (inr-HljoTer,  baud- worker, 
[  wanted  ease- 

the    eigbt'-hour    plan     miisl 

*  to  women  as  well  as  meo*     It 

be  li  shame    for  Mt<Aftel»  tbe 

ier,  to  demanil  that  his  wilb 

wark  fixteen  hoars  a  dajr,  and 

qIjt  baff  the  time.     How  shall  it 

I?    Shall  she  get  up  in  the  motm- 

.  winter  s  rooming,  at  »tx  o'dock, 

'  on  the  te^^ettle, 

^  .        .       ^  rtnlng  a  eoople  of 

pn  before  bis  daj's  work  begina, 

^  -         'Iren  tbeir  breaklMty  get 

^hed,  tbe^  doAet  laade 

^  oiff  to  tciMxil,  and 

^    dtihe«»    d^ani^ 

|b^  getting    meftlif   mrndtng  th« 

il  tQ    be?   bitabaiMl^a    podietay   in 

■aK^$  frock,  and  Denaia-a  tJ<m»ei% 

;  and   ai   etenisg^ 

/:s  off  to  tbe  aalooB 

|lh  hts  pipe  in  bis  month,  ke«p  on 

t)ie   same  work  aa  long    aa    h«r 

lugtb  win  aHow^  till  eight  o'clock, 

)m^  ten  at  ntgfat,  or  LUer  f    And  ia 

thia  right,  with  Oinij  eight  hom 

tbe  man?    Or   shall  wb    limit 

"~     *    work  to  eig^l  ho«tn   abo? 

'  on  at  et^t  ia  tha 

lUtisi  at  aiiw  or  tov 

^    \r  tha  Soffoaia  froci.  lwalT« 

pciro^  dinner  read/  at  ahoot   Ibai^ 

six,  and  the  dnhea  left   lor 

Ig  till  next  raomiDg;  the  ereo- 

fttattheopers^aad  lOchaelX 

i\  and  Koimh^s  ineodlng  left 

rncxt  week?    *^  Woman*!  work  ia 

-  done ;  '^  hut  the  Lahm^Befem* 

Etrdjr  wis  noi  Hmii  lhfwaff|y»a  to 
MmghtoCMidkMlabcief  ihtfXk 
of  Hm^gim  aa  much.  If  thej 
lit  witman^s  hdior  in  the  fmnting- 
(iPy  Uiok-btiidefj,  waHet^ahoi^  abifl 
LeoUar  estahliiliBeBt%  and  di^r- 
^ft  Mkd  fiuKj  atorea  to  «ghi 
Pl  fhaf  win  not  Iti  the  dear 
tiler  of  theaa  poor  giila  ahiTo  aD 


day,  and  half  of  tbe  night  too^  will  \ 
thej?    Ko.     Eight  hours  is  enough 
far  hooao-workf  if  enough  for  street* 
woik,      diop-workf       manufactories,  j 
Eight  boon  far  women,  as  well  \ 
eight  homs  for  mea. 

And  what  shall  we  say  about  eight 
boors  for  men  and  women  hired  air  j 
work  in  domestie  emplojments  ?  Tbo  1 
life  of  the  fomale  domestic  has 
knig  daj  of  iL  Cook,  waiting- maid, 
chamber-girl,  maid  of  all  work^  bow 
shall  her  daj  be  short^ed  ?  Work 
Buiil  boghi  before  bieak&at ;  it  can- 
not end  wlien  tea  is  orer.  Work 
often  mnat  be  protracted  into  tbe  ■ 
erenin^  Shall  octr  efening  guest 
haye  no  refreshments  f  Shall  there 
ae^er  be  a  table  set  for  a  supper  a^ 
sine  o^dock  ?  If  Mr.  Gladstone,  or  I 
Biaaardk,  or  Chailes  Sumnvr  mui»t  do 
a&7  boaincea  of  state  or  any  private 
boeinem  at  eight  o^elock  in  tbe  mom- 
ingi  mnat  the  eoaefaman  come  in  and 
say^  The  hofiie  4«mot  be  bad  ;  the 
ostler  has  just  fad  thera,  and  thoy 
win  not  be  cleaned  imder  an  hour  or 
two;  the  carriage^  baring  been  out 
yesterday  in  tbe  mud,  will  not  be 
ready  again  before  eleven  o'clock; 
and  tbe  statesman  most  stay  at  home 
or  walk  ?  And  shall  nerer  a  horse  be 
cleaned  after  six  o'doek  in  tbe  ereo* 
ing?  And  what  if  tbe  family  would 
like  a  drire  in  the  cool  of  the  day, 
after  endonng  the  long  beat  \  can't 
the  honee  be  had?  Is  tbe  coach* 
man's  time  up  ?  After  bis  eight 
bova,  has  he  gone  to  the  clnb^  the 
dientte,  ^^  pablk  libfary,  or  to  bear  > 
Fiehle'sfeetitreon  *<The  Me  and  Koi- 
me?" 

Bftt  certainly  Ae  dqr^^boter, 
the  Uacksmtih,  ^fpenfeer^  pdntett 
ottg^i  not  to  cnl  down  tbsir  day  to 
ei^t  honisy  and  hare  no  compaaalon 
<ytt  other  wvrkei%  withont  wboae  ao* 
,  diongh  the  wesid  mt^  «x- 


m 


Mr.  Bo$Va   Work  in  France, 


ist,  it  looks  a  little  difficiLlt  to  «ay 
how  it  would  exist. 

In  a  word^  is  not  this  demand  for 
eight  hottre  in  contraTentian,  not  so 
much  of  all  the  customs,  institutions^ 
and  relationships  of  society,  which 
can  no  more  be  changed  hy  puhlic 
law  or  private  attempt  than  the  spell- 
ing of  the  English  language,  or  its 
laws  of  grammar,  can  be  changed  by 
act  of  Legishiture  or  by  private  fancy, 
—  but  rather  in  contravention  of  all 
the  laws  of  nervous  and  muscular 
action,  of  physical  vigor,  and  moral 
ambition,  and  sense  of  obligation  to 
the  world  ?  By  the  sweat  of  a  man ^s 
brow  sball  he  get  his  bread ;  not  a 
curse,  but  a  blessing.  If  all  the 
legislators  of  the  world  should  enact 
laws  with  heavy  penalties,  that  no 
man  should  be  allowed  to  work  more 
tliao  eight  hours  a  day,  wouldn't  peo- 
ple work  by  stealth  ?  wouldn't  they 
overthrow  such  tyrannical  govern- 
ments that  deprived  them  of  the  hap- 
piest privilege  of  the  employment  of 
their  own  powers  ?  What  workman 
does  not  feel  it  a  privilege  to  take  off 
Uis  hat,  and  wipe  the  sweat  from  his 
fiirohead?  And  how  many  times  a 
day  ^ught  the  law  to  allow  us  to  do 
it?  Eli  Hartxess. 


MR.  BOSrS  WORK  IN  FRANCE, 

The  October  number  of  *'  Old  and 
Xew/'  1871,  contained  a  private  letter, 
describing  ^*Mr.  Bost'e  Work  in 
France,^ ^  and  asking  aid  for  him  in 
his  necessities,  cut  o%  as  he  had  been 
by  the  war  in  France,  from  many  of 
his  accustomed  resources. 

In  spite  of  the  great  fire  in  Chicago, 
the  Western  disasters,  and  31r.  Coque- 
reFs  noble  appeals,  so  near  to  all  oar 
hearts,  the  writer,  from  time  to  time, 
received  such  generous  donations  for 
Mr,  BosCa  cauae,  WxaX  Vt  \a  ^^^  V>  liSfi^ 


those  who  have  ©o  LrnJly 
to  iufurm  them  that  Wi. 
ceived  three   several  remi 
times  of  great  perplexity ; 
desires   warmest  ilmnki  t^ 
Americaji   friends  wl] 
him-     Appended  is  a 
the  initials  of  dooorsr  io  ftr"l 
are  known :  — 

In  Boston,  Maaa,, 
$50,00 ;  Mrs.  J.  T 
C.  G.  L,  and  frien^ 
H,B,,$5.00;Dr.anaMf^ 
two  ladies,  unknown,  S-'  *^ 
through  Bev,  IL  E.,  S 
M.,  $20,00, 

In  Rojcbury  and  <' 
Mrs,  J.  G.,  S10,(X> ;  Mis,  J.  U 
RS,,  820,00;  Mra.L, 
J,  I>eY,  F.,  %li\m\ 
So.OO;  Mrs,  E.  a,  SI 
Miss  W.,  and  Mrs.  C,  S, 
A.  W.,  $1.00;  Mw^RCB.; 
Mn.  and  the  Misses  N,,  $20i 
T,  B.,  $20,00  J  Mrs.  K.  H^ 
Iklrs.  B.,  S5.«)0;fr  i^ 

M  B,,  $10.1H>;   ai,  A^ 

$10,00  5  Mrs,  J.  E.C, 
C,  S25.(X).  Frommeml  ■. 
ty  of  Friends,  through  Mm  % 
$60.*X);  fi  in  DoUiiv 

$25,00,  iUs'afl^TiBg 

Mrs.   J.   H,    X,,    $10.00  J  4 
$20,00  J    m^    n.    T.    far 
$15.00. 

From     Ci  n  ♦  I  ii  n  aT  J ,    Mi« 
$1.00;  Mrs.  McG,.  WS^X 

Mr,  J.  J.,  Salt  •  ; 

Or,,  $10,00;   F,  ^    _  :'. 

Keb,,  $2,0<r;   Miss  E.  F,  il 
treal,Ya,  $2.m   InCaaiM 
A.  G.,  $15.00;    Miss  C.  %, 
Friends   from   Andoirtr  uhI 
Id   Koiibamptooi 


$21.00. 
through 
l>or.^    V       "' 
and  1 
Q,B^iilO,00. 


la  ii'ow  I^ 


Mr.  BosVs   Work  in  France. 


755 


00.,  Mre.  H.  B.  S.  and 
Mrs.  J.  T„  $5,00; 
Mrs.  E,  H.  R  K,  $100.00; 
A,,    $10.00;     K    S.    M,, 
>,nrv,     A  fnVnd  in  Albany,  S50.00  ; 

^20j:k>. 

_.        lad^iphia  and  Germantown, 

J.  F.  M,,  $50.00 ;  Mrs.  E.  0.  K., 

KWk      An   absent   Phila^ielpliian, 

fc-<H>;  Ife.  CD.,  $10.00;  Mrs.  a, 

Mm  S.  and  nieces,  SIO.OO  ; 

Ml  Miss  A-,  $5.00 ;  Mr.  R., 
00;  Mrs.  R,  gaOO.  A  friend  in 
ith  AmboT,  82.00. 
i4ifT.  Wm.  W.  and  friends,  in  Keene, 
K,  and  Salem,  Mass..  S225. 
|B  soon  as  1  had  collected  four  or 
I  hundred  dollars,  I  purchased  a 
of  exchange,  and  sent  to  Mr.  Bost ; 
Icmbering  what  Sydney  Smith,  or 
Ife  oiher  wise  man,  said,  that  to  a 
Mm  needing  assistance,  a  small 
ilttaiice,  repeated  at  intenralS|  is 
jtapter  leltef  than  a  large  sam, 
fllich  one  has  to  wait  too  long. 
*  tills  way  I  have  already  sent 
ftc  bills  of  exchange ;  and  would 
'  t<»  all  friends  who  may  hereafter 
I  diijpoted  to  aid  Mr.  Bost,  that  my 
eeiloii  is  stiU  g':»ing  on,  and  any 
Stions   will   be   always   gnitefully 

liler  a  long  tllness  in  the  anturan, 
MDned  by  an  accident  while 
Kig  the  sick,  ]^f  r.  Bost  recorered  ; 
Bis  fii^  Tisit  was  to  the  directress 
P^hesda,  who  invited  him,  with 
wife  and  daughter,  to  dine  with 
It  was  the  day  on  which  he 
liTi»d  the  first  remittance  from 
leriea.  He  writes  :  "  C'^tait  dans 
Aftetnent  des  idiotes  que  le  mo- 
le diner  se  donoait  La  soir^  se 
ktt  «#  famille.  JVtais  entoure  de 
H|^  Jmaes  fiUes^  qui  ont  cliacun  une 
^pbistotre  de  souffrances  h  racon- 
Vfonii  avons  chant<^*  des  cantiqries, 
coeun    ^ient    li  ronison  pour 


soupirer  apres  la  raeilleur  patrie  on 
il  n'y  aura  plus  de  cries,  plus  de 
maladies  mental es.  Kos  cheres  a?eu* 
gles^  releguds  dans  un  coin,  travail - 
laient  Pour  elles  point  n  ^est  besoin 
de  lampe  :  11  fait  to uj ours  nuit^  et  le 
jour  existe  m§me  an  sein  des  tenebres. 
Avant  de  nous  s^parer,  j'ai  fi^it  cir* 
culer  votre  enveloppe,  et  j'ai  de- 
m:ind^  Ik  mon  auditoire  k  que  cette 
lettre  renfermait,  leur  disant  que 
c^etait  ieur  ami,  qui  me  Tavait  en* 
voy6e.  Cheres  enfants,  leurs  coBtua 
^taient  bien  ^mus  quand  je  leur  £s 
part  du  contenu.'^ 

It  only  remains  to  add,  that,  in  caae 
any  one  should  wish  to  visit  Laforce, 
the  route  is  easily  marked  out.  Two 
main  railroad  lines  stretch  between 
Paris  and  Bordeaux^  one  via  Or- 
leans, Tours,  Poitiers,  and  Angouleme; 
the  other  via  Orleans,  Chateauroux, 
Limoges,  and  Perigueux.  These  line% 
diverging  at  Orleans,  converge,  and 
meot  again  at  the  village  of  Coutraa, 
thirty-seven  miles  before  reaching 
Bordeaux,  and  three  hundred  and 
forty-six  miles  from  Paris. 

The  traveller  can  reach  Laforoe 
direct  from  Paris  by  the  Limoges-  ' 
Perigueux  line,  stopping  at  Mussi- 
dan  station,  twenty-six  miles  short  of 
Coutras.  The  traveller  who  prefers 
to  go  south  by  the  Poitiers- Angouleme 
line  must  go  to  Coutras,  and  then 
back  along  the  other  line  these  twenty- 
six  miles  to  Musaidan. 

At  Mussidan  a  high-road  leads 
south  to  Bergerac^  a  little  city  on 
the  river,  through  the  white-wine 
vineyards  of  the  plain  of  the  Dordogne, 
A  voiture  can  be  obtained  at  Mussi- 
dan, to  take  one  to  the  Asylums  at 
Laforce.  A  line  dropped  in  the 
Paris  post-office,  addressed  to  Pas- 
teur John  Bost,  Laforce,  Pers  Ber- 
gerac,  Dordogne,  or  to  the  ^oatnafEtsyft 
master  at  Moaaidaxi^  t^Q^^X.\Tw%Tx«*»Tay- 


756   Ages  of  Stone  and  Iron  in  Egtfpt  and  Paksiinc 


vejanco  to  be  in  readiness  at  any 
given  timei  will  insure  a  pleasant 
drive*  But  even  these  preliminaries 
are  not  absolutely  needful*  Nothing 
more  agreeably  diversifies  the  monot- 
ony of  railway-riding  in  Europe  than 
a  carriage-drive  across  country. 


THE  AGES  OF  STONE  AND  IRON 
IN  EGYPT  AND  PALESTINE. 

The  Abb^  Richard  read  at  the 
meeting  of  the  French  Academy, 
Aug.  28,  1871  (Comptes  Kendus),  a 
statement  of  his  having  visited  the 
Bnez  Canal  at  its  inaugarationj  and 
thereafter  found  the  first  stone  im- 
plemenU  on  the  road  through  the 
petrified  forest,  leading  to  Cairo,  and 
near  that  city.  Ho  calls  the  mate- 
rial '*  gr&s  eruptifj  de  la  menie  nature 
que  les  arhres."  The  instruments 
were  numerous,  and  pretty  large,  viz,, 
from  ten  to  twelve  inches.  He  found 
others  near  Thebes.  On  Elephantine 
he  found  one  piercetl  and  polished, 
the  use  of  which  he  could  not  guesa. 
At  the  foot  of  Mt.  Sinai  he  hit  upon 
the  largest  "  workshop  •'  of  flint  tools 
he  ever  saw ;  with  hammers,  hatchets, 
arrow-heads,  nuclei,  &c.  One  very 
elegant  arrow-head  was  picked  up  in 
Wady  Ferr&n,  in  the  midst  of  the 
Sinai  Mountaina. 

M.  Guerin,  sent  to  Palestine  by  the 
"French  Government  in  1863,  discov- 
ered  at  Tibneh,  or  Timnath-heres,  on 
Mt  Ephraim,  the  long-lost  tomb  of 
Joshua,  and  established  its  authenti- 
city by  a  memoir  to  the  Academy  in 
1865.  De  Saulcy  confirms  it  in  hts 
"Voyage  in  Palestine  "  (ii.  233),  and 
hints  at  the  probability  of  the  future 
discovery  of  stone  implements,  based 
on  the  LXX.  translation  of  the  Book 
of  Josbua,  where  it  is  said  that 
Joslma  preserved  the  stone  knives 
irith  which  he  citc\xmc\ft^  t\\Qfe»\>QrcL 


in  the  wildcn 
buried  with  h 
ard,  in  1870,  vi^iti'd   tii* 
found  a  great  number  of  ir; 
chiefly  knives,  eomo  of  the 
sharp.    There  were  am 
and  flat,  long,  and    r 
worked  st^jne. 

He  found  othc^ra  at  Gilgtt!^ 
Jericho ;  and  again,  a  hatdiCl 
other  instruments  in  the  <  " 
on  the  elevated  {jlatean  t 
dred  feet  above  the  J^ntdan) 
the  Lake  and  Mt.  Tabor.  He  oi 
these  are  of  a  kind  **  f7»>efa]}y  i 
gti r»led  as  ess^'       ""      '  *if( 

tertiary  and  «]  ^  \ 

he  thinks  the  fossil  should  d«iftmi 
the  age  of  the  rock,  and  not  thi?  w 
the  age  of  the  fbs^L     He  vn*!* 
expressing  a  pious  ho  J"     '  ■  tii 

is  close  at  hand  when   -  ^  M 

in  accord  with  the  Biblo  on  the  fi 
ject  of  the  origin  and  age  of  si 
kind,  as  there  is  already  aii  agreeiK 
between  them  on  the  entifoet  oft 
antiquity  of  the  Egyptian  twmxtmm 
the  temples  of  Dendir**b,  Esn^^  fe 

This  last  fact  will  certain?"  * 

for  Egyptologists,  seeing 
branch  of  science  has  e^tahlUh^ 
some  of  the  Egyptian  bniMtnri 
tombs  an  anriquity  greater 
assigned  in  the  Hebfieir  wnia^ 
the  Noachian  deluge.  The  AM 
no  doubt,  been  fortunate  eo<ui|Cii 
find  relics  uf  the  Syrian  and  E 
tian  aborigin«^s;  bat  he  b 
too  anxious  to  make  a  tur-»-^.. 
pointy  to  be  implicitly  tns^tai  m  • 
delicate  a  (jaestiou  a»  the  anth^iticiti 
of  the  so-calletl  tomb  of  Jo^liita 
Tibneh.     We  can  iin<l  no  mentioa 

this  tomb  in  Robinson^ ^  -^ 

ary;  and  Robinson  as  nk 

that  the  T  ( 

known  in  ^  I- 

^\K^  ^%V  TMi^  %  Utteo  of  rmm  mMik 


Ages  of  Stom€  md  Inm  m  Eggfi  ami  F^imtm^   757 


it  of 

,  Gtlgil  m«  M  tbe 

pUm   of 

iliarv,  At  t^ 
I  of  I>jnjBja,  not  &r  £rom  SUod^ 
\  Jofiboa  80l  on  tlw  IsbctBaciflL 
alwija  Qonfe  to  oonditct  aa 
,  with  A  ixed  ides, 
of  iroo  U  noir  geaeta&j^ 
Umto  fbUoired  the  mgo  of 
f  copper;  waA  this  latter,  «i 
impleinentab  But  niioe 
maj  be  made  ooe 
of  ikkfi  oeTdo|iiBefit 
^,  as  applied  to  man.  Mr.  St. 
Tmceot  Dajp  F.RS^E.,  haa 
,  paper  liofore  the  Philosophical 
of  Glasgow  (April  12, 1871), 
tij^f  of  Adamic  excellence,  to 
the  sopenor  antiquity  of  iron 

[would  be  tedioud  to  unfold  at 
ength  his  arguments,  Thej 
t  amnmed  up  as  follows  :  Fir^t : 
lieadily  oxidiswjd,  tbat  tra<»e3 
ancient  use  would  likely 
Secondly ;  It  is  a  me  tall  ur* 
,ti>  auppode  the  mauu- 
'hII 'nbn  %  more  difficult,  and 
E>re  a  later  art,  than  that  of 
I ;  for  it  13  not  a  question  of 
[>n|  which  requires  a  high  heat, 
wrouffht  iron,  which  is  made 
|ny  savage  nations  in  the  heart 
t  and  Africa  at  the  present  day, 
ely  aa  it  was  in  the  highest  an- 
Thirdly ;  Layard  found  iron 
are  at  Nineveh  and  Bah v Ion ; 
fonnd  iron  ha'^ps  and  nails  on 
aive  doors  of  the  inner  chara- 
the  tomb  of  Sebau,  "as  lus- 
[jand  pliant  as  on  the  day  when 
Uie  forge;"  Belzoni  found 
■dde  under  the  feet  of  one 
Karnak  sphinxes;   Mr.   Hill 


tlkeG» 

^m  two  mim  laj^en  «r 
BatMii  Mmmm  m  18S7,  mOt  \ 

*^  Ttsj  liltfo  ttf  ^w  piLrv  nxL  tii  to- 
maiika.  Tlia  wihitfaiic^  viudi  r»- 
pUc«a  it  is  Uw  hUdlf  aiagifeetie  osidiw 
On  oot  side  is  the  tnc«of  «  i 
lite  in  lifter  ookMv  adhering  to  it» 
and  a  nodnto  of  atooey  one-fifth  of  tm 
indi  in  dianeler,  »  hmlf  auAk  in  tibm  > 
wmitP  —  Kmts  hy  W.  FHri^ 

Yei7  good  photoUthograpbay  iMiik 
of  the  sickle^  and  of  this  pyramid 
relic,  axe  giren  in  the  third  part  of 
the  seventh  Tolame  of  the  Proceed-  ^ 
ings  of  the  Society  above  mentioned. 
I  hare  seen  a  sickle-shaped  instni* 
ment  of  iron  among  the  many  won* 
derful  things  in  the  private  masenm 
of  the  venerable  antiquarian  at  Alex* 
andria,  'Mr,  Harris,  taken  from  one  of 
the  Theban  tombs,*    Lord  Prudhoe  is 

*  I  hare  ja»t  nweivwl  m  letter  from  KIm  9«1c* 
RiA  HftrHp,  djitrd  No.  5,  Brunt wiek  T«m«», 
CwnpcleQ  HUl,  KenMnirtoa,  Londoa,  March  1&, 
In  which  (»h('  thus  *Uade»  to  the  diM«troii»  expJo- 
ilon  of  the  jninoolton  muriLzliie  it  Alexsndriiu 
'*AIIth«ftWl  things  the  new* paper  did  Dot  ttil. 
Of  my  boa«e  I  have  onljr  the  ihell,  and  the  won- 
der l9  that  mytelf  andmy  tervantf  escaped  death. 
No  otie  can  guets  mi'  lo»t.  Threo  buuiei^  iitd 
every  thing  In  them  ruined.  TIi**  few  antlqaof  I 
had,  vroDderfiil  to  reUte»  they  pot  buried,  and  m» 
were  sAred  from  oiler  demolHIon.  Th^^ie  I  hive 
hrou/rUt  with  me  to  Etiffliod,  — the  pjipyrf,  tab- 
lets, oolumn^,  bronzej.  kc  ,  wood  and  Ivory,  tio 
you  thlnlc  AmericiD  ma»eQra«  would  purchase  I 
My  lowt^t  snta  U  Ave  ihoo^and  pound*.  Ir^'hro 
yon  kindly  prtnied  In  the  proocedln^^i  of  tba 
Amerlaia  Phlloiophicat  Society  a  cftttth)ftn«  *  f 
my  futher^fi  tnu<*eum,  you  menlloned  the  fact  tbat 
the  papyrun  of  Ramiei  U  unl(]tie,**  L'nhtue  la  • 
mild  epithet  for  this  iuperbeii  of  ill  Ih*'  relict  of 

Eg^rptUn  IltcTJttare,  — avtr:^'"  ' '  ■  -  rryet 

tr4U«1atc^d,  three  humired  i  I  and 

If1iuc4  in  nntt  hundred  an  <  illoa- 

traled  by    baltle'»c«>fiet,    purUiiiu    ul     CApture4 
ktngi,  ileetehe«  of   t«inpli»«   erected  and    minei 
opened  by  ^iciMtrU,  wlUi  itaaitlot  of  ret iiiMt  ^ 
and  soimtt  Uatorf  ol  Un  ibaaU  k^ \ia»tia«pk« 


758    AgeB  of  Stone  and  Iron  in  Egypt  and  PaUi&nt 


said  to  have  brought  an  ancient  iron 
instmment  from  Egypt ;  and  Mr. 
Day  thinks  he  perceived  the  remains 
of  an  iron  fastening  in  the  chamber 
containing  the  sideboard  or  shelf  in 
the  great  temple  at  Abu  Simbel  of  the 
age  of  Ramses  IL,  1460  B.C.  This 
wasi  coteraporary  with  the  disco  very 
and  first  working  of  the  Laurium  ar- 
gentiferous lead-ore  veins  in  Attica, 
under  Erichthonins,  king  of  Athena. 
The  Mosaic  exodus  occurred  in  the 
reign  of  the  ne^tt  Pharaoh.  Chariota 
arnie<l  with  (iron  ?)  scythes  are  men- 
tioned in  Joshua  xrii.  IS.  Og*s  bed- 
stead was  said  to  be  of  iron.  The 
poem  of  Jobj  of  unknown  date^ 
speaks  of  iron  ore,  not  meteoric  iron 
(xxviii.  2). 

Mr.  Basil  H.  C'xjper's  paper  in 
"The  Transactions  of  the  Devon- 
shire Association  for  tlio  Adv-ance- 
nient  of  8«^ience/*  1868,  asserts  for 
iron  as  high  an  antiquity  as  the  first 
dynasty  of  Egypt,  based  on  the 
Bahidic  Coptic  word  for  iron,  Be-ne- 
pe,  "  stone  of  heaven,"  incorporated, 
as  he  thinksi  into  the  name  of  the 
sixth  king  of  that  dynasty;  and  Mr. 
Day  suggests  that  "  stone  of  heaven  " 
means  meteoric  iron,  sueh  as  the 
Esquimaux  were  using  for  knived 
when  first  visited  by  the  whites. 

If  it  were  well  mode  oat  that  any 
king  of  the  first  dynji?<ty  called  him- 
self "  the  meteoric/*  and  moreover 
that  his  ai^rolite  was  a  mass  of  iron, 
and  not  of  sandstone,  there  could  no 
longer  be  question  of  the  subject. 

In  Mauetho's  list,  the  fifth  king  of 
the  firet  dynasty  is  called  Ouenef^, 
which  would  certainly  be  the  Greek 
pronunciation  of  a  Coptic  won!,  Be- 
ne-pe.  But  the  fifth  cartoiiche  of 
the  Abj'dos  biblet  roads  Tati,  or  Zati, 
or  Tatati-  His  successor,  however, 
the  sixth  king,  haa  a  name  of  four 
letters,  MeB^BuPcL,  ^li   \XiVE^  tiw^i 


being  pronounced  Bft  only  m] 
plied   to   products  of  the  mint 
Bottg^).     As  -  iixthkifii 

the  Abydos  tu  ►^aggin 

commences^  he  must  have  been  i 
tinguished  individual.     His 
the   Saqqara  tablet  is  fpellgd 
BaPeN.      Ho    is    the    finl  of 
Egyptian   kings   calling   dii 
Meri-or-phiUis,  like  Th 
of  God,  —  hiver,  or  worship] 
PeN,  whatever  that  was.    H  it 
the  Coptic  BaNePe,  stout  of 
^  the  stone  tliat  fell  down  horn 
ter,'*  meteoric  iron,  then  hn 
the  Tubalcain,  or  Vulcan,  of 
and  we  must  conclude  that  thi 
of  iron,  if  not  its  man 
from  the  very  earliest  4  :  . 
history ;  and  wo  can  take  * 
of  correcting  Manetho's  Vui  u , 
tifying  his  fifth  king,  0«**nc 
the  sixth  of  the  Abj^-^loi*  tabUt 
Turin   papyrus  aUo  writes  th« 
king's  name  MeRBaPeX* 

It  is  very  strange  that  no  qitfi 
gtcal  writer  seems  to  haro  takea  tk 
slightest  notice  of  the  n»iD»fkiWt 
discovery  of  Mr,  Hill,  altbi'tigb  h^ 
iron  plate  has  been  lying  in  th«  Bw^ 
ish  Museum  for  nrarly  rVr-* 
years.  It  must  ho  grante<l< 
that  no  trace  of  the  ui 
iron  has  ever  yet  btr 
the  hierogtyphtc  n^corl- 
Probably  tha  use  of  i^^>ii  .. 
ly  limited  by  the  me  di- 
pieces  of 
casional   | 

kingtJ   of  Kg>'pt    by  tr 
in    Ethiopia.       It    is    v 
that  the  London  chomi 
the  relic  in  the   T 
nickel,  which   mt^i 
question    nt    n?st»       ^V 
others  seem  to  think  thi    i.^.  ... 
or  6t«el,  far  ctflTenstre  anus  in  ^tfff^ 
^TQveu  hj  tbo  blfM  caiat  of 


Wanted,  a  Domestic 


759 


ertores  on  the  walls  of 
Bot  I  think  the  argument 
^U&clent^  after  noticing) 
|pl  to  die  chamber  of  the 
imer  in  the  tomb  of  Seti  L, 
ly  that  the  bundles  of  swords, 
Bl,  &c.,  were  painted  alter- 
i&e  and  red.  The  object  of 
vas  eridentlj  to  produce  a 
feet  by  contrast  of  colors, 
kt  all  to  represent  the  nature 
ateriaL  Even  if  steel  were 
Seti's  time,  1500  B.C.,  the 
1  giire  us  no  assurance  of  its 
awn  in  Cheops's  daj,  3000 

reripaben's  reign,  4000 
J.  P.  Lesley. 

SnrKD»  A  DOMESTIC 

m. 

Eli  Habtkess's  letter,  in 
ber  number,  has  drawn  the 
repljr :  — 

^i  HartnesSj  A.M.^  pastor 
Irst  Congregational  Church 
Uersfield, 

SiK,  —  I  noticed  in  the 
number  of  the  "Old  A3f0 
mt  advertisement  for  a  do- 
I  do  not  see  any  announce* 
tlie  November  number  that 
inited,  so  I  have  concluded 
rit 

l«a  of  a  home,  to  a  poor, 
girl  like  me,  is  certainly  a 
^htful  one,  and  I  should  be 
ling  to  work  hard  for  the 
nda  who  offer  it ;  but,  my 
HartnesSy  there  are  two  or 
nta  I  would  like  to  have 
rlbre  I  come. 

a  young  woman  of  refine- 
$hm$ld  like  to  study  and 
cm  suggest ;  I  shmtld  like  to 

tyou,  and  to  sit  at  your 
El  the  parlor  evenings; 
I  we  manage  it  ? 


You  are  a  man,  with  aU  a  man's 
strength  of  muscle,  and  with  all  of 
his  inexperience  and  ignorance  of 
the  amount  of  real,  hard,  constant 
labor,  comprehended  in  the  house- 
work of  an  ordinary  family;  so  I 
really  think  Mrs.  Hartness  and  I 
could  talk  this  matter  over  more 
practically  than  I  can  ;with  yoo. 

She  knows,  aud  /  know,  that  the 
family  washing,  which  it  seems  to 
you  could  be  so  easily  disposed  of  if 
yott  had  it  to  do,  is,  in  reality,  a  long, 
laborious,  and  wearisome  operation* 

No  one  is  more  particular  as  to 
the  polish  and  purity  of  his  shirt- 
bosoms  than  you  are  ;  and  you  often 
say  that  you  could  never  enjoy  a 
meal  if  the  table-cloth  and  napkins 
were  not  of  the  whitest  and  smooth- 
est No  one  insists  upon  wearing 
more  &esh,  clean  clothes  than  you 
do.  You  delight  to  see  your  wife 
and  daughter  arrayed  in  their  spot- 
lessly white  gowns, ''so  indicative,'' 
you  say,  **of  the  delicacy  and  refine- 
ment of  their  womanly  nature ;  ^'  and 
*^  cleanliness,"  you  preach,  ^^  is  next 
to  godliness."  To  accomplish  all 
thiSf  even  with  both  skill  and  a 
washing-machine,  includes  much  time 
and  labor.  Now,  while  I  am  at  the 
wash-tnb,  who  will  attend  to  the 
young  ladies  who  call  upon  me? 
How  shall  I  attend  to  my  music  and 
drawing,  when  so  much  of  my  time 
is  taken  up  with  the  ironing  ? 

You  know  that  you  do  not  care  for 
a  winter  breakfast  without  buck- 
wheat cakes,  and  you,  of  all  others, 
like  them  "smoking  hot;"  therefore 
it  would  never  do  for  me  to  fry  a 
plateful  beforehand,  ample  enough 
for  the  whole  breakfast.  How  can  I 
fry  the  cakes  and  sit  at  the  table 
too?  Of  course  we  must  have  i^oup 
and  dessert  for  dinner.  If  I  sit  9 
the  table;,  who  will  change  the  plai|| 


I 
I 


than  Bridget  would.  Who  will  do 
my  work,  while  I  am  in  my  darkened 
chamber,  suffering  the  consequences 
of  my  "  drudgery '*  and  over-exer- 
tion? 

The  advantages  you  offer  meet,  it 
is  true,  the  cravings  of  my  higher 
nature;  but  if  I  am  to  read  and 
travel  and  study  and  visit,  and  to 
be  in  all  respects  treated  as  an  equal 
in  the  family,  I  don't  see  who  is  to  do 
the  work. 

If  you  could  thin  out  your  ac- 
.quaintance,  so  that  you  would  not 
have  so  many  ministers,  professors, 
lecturers,  and  other  friends,  to  dinner 
and  to  tea,  and  to  stay  with  you  all 
night ;  if  you  would  have  but  two 
meals  a  day,  and  nothing  then  but 
the  simplest  food  (no  griddles,  no 
mince  or  pumpkin  pies,  no  dough- 
nuts or  election  cake),  and  have 
every  thing  put  on  at  once,  and  served 
in  primitive  style;  if  you  would 
wear  more  dickies  and  fewer  shirts ; 
if  your  wife  and  daughter  would  dis- 
pense with  ruffles  and  trimmings, 
and  wear  plain  and  coarse  clothes; 
if   you  will    lay    aside    the    baby's 


of  the  freedom,  the 
finement,  the  happin 
of  your  home. 

Besides,  if  I  con 
Bridget's  place,  whal 
her?  No  matter  ho 
ficient  she  may  be,  ii 
cannot  help  learn 
You  may  not,  it  i 
long :  but  while  she  d 
a  glimpse  of  a  higl 
than  that  to  which  sh 
tomed;  and  althou( 
does  not  seem  to  pen 
mantle  of  ignoranc 
which  envelopes  her, 
and  patient  teachin 
ness  must  have  an  e 
she  gets  in  your  fami 
will  never  know;  bu 
less  certain  to  spring 
and  bear  fruit.  Nov 
prive  Bridget  of  her 
It  seems  to  me  that  fc 
that  she  is  so  dull  an 
cannot  afford  to  go  w 

How,  then,  would 
take  us  both  ?     I  wc 
of  her,  and  Mrs.  Hs 


The  Ttadm^  Sckool  of  SctcNoe. 


7«1 


to  mrnkf^  m  tmlj  emmiottMm 

I  could  teach  her  «i90iii»ii  j  wai 

aod  melbod  ia  hm  votk  ; 

I  ooold  t€!acli  btf  to  i«i4  aod 

«ad  ivmd  her  stones  vbeo  b«r 

done.     Slie  vonld  a<ot  vant 

t  the  table ;  aod  I  could  induce 

pjit  on  a  cleaa  apvon  and  wait, 

we  could  hare  our  hoU  cakes 

^akfast,  and  the  little    refine- 

of  change  of  plates  and  dessert 

er.     Then,  hj  managing  my 

as  Mrs,  Hartnesa  would  t«acli 

I>w,  I  would  hare  plenty  of  Utne 

ndj  and  paint,  I  could  plaj  for 

L  evenings,   help    entertain    jrour 

and  do  mjr  best  to  make  jour 

I  pleasant. 

idget's  additional  wages  would 

no  account  compared  with  tlie 

bit  you  would  take  in  the  society 

Hartness,  who  could   be  free 

\  out  with  you,  or  to  sit  in  your 

with  her  work-basket,  ready  to 

ou  a  lift  with  the  obstinate  sen- 

tD  your  sermons;  or,  if    you 

I't  care  for  that,   she  would  cer- 

be   your   inspiration,  with   her 

ful,  sun-shiny    face,   now     that 

ien  of  the  J e tail  of  housekeep- 

pas^d    into    younger   and 

hands. 

^en,  if  ever  the  time  sliould  come 

,  I  should  want  to  get  married, 

get    my  sister   or   cousin  or 

\  to  come  in  a  few  weeks  before, 

i  teach   her   to    perform   my   du- 

and    so    you  will  not  feel  the 

when  I  leaye  you  to  set  up 

one  thing  more,  and  I 
Dear  Mrs*  HartseM 
TtTf  ground  yoa  walk  on, 
( JQQ  pc^ection  personified 
r  w*?ll  she  may,  for  yoo  have  been 
tftg  coiuple  this  Bcore  of  jreais) ; 
is  DO  r^tman  why  I^  a  joimg 
f  vboec  ideal  of  a  bver  is  reiy  hr 


bom  heiiigaii  tUiiirty  ipiau  witli  a  ba(d 
head  mui  sfMeteeketi  ahoald    mep  in 
yvm  0(hiir  iImui  a  T^rr  kind 
tlflttaii(oM  toneX  ^Ho  ha^  ^  i- 

e4  me,  and  whom,  in  my  gnUttndi^,  I 
wtmid  do  all  in  my  pow«r  to  ploas^ti 
Wha<   a  pity,  theti«  to   put  into  m| 
he^  the  idea,  that  tliu  fatli^  ^*\ 

ness  you  show  me  has  any  t  v 

motirc,  by  intimating,  as   you  dts  thu 
po€i$ibi1ity  of  your  ev**r  falling  in  K»vo 
witli  me  yourself*     Of  ci>ur»e  I  know 
you  do  not  rtnUly  mean  any  thing  i\tl 
the    kind ;    but    why     «ugg\'*t     Mioll 
things*/  for  if  I  should  gi^t  the   uoliiMi 
your  affection  for   me    lunini  a  trn**« 
too  much  of  warmth,  1  nhiiulfl  at  nnof 
lo*e  the  high   rc»sii>ect  I  now  fei'l  fa 
you.     This  would  grieve  dear,  g»H»d»i 
true  Mrs.  Hartue!iK,  ainl  wnulf]   auiv* 
ly  defeat  your  plan  of  having  a 
fiueJ,  happy,  ami  truly  Christian  htMua^l 
Now,  my  dear  sir,  won't  yoti  talli  thl4 
matter  over  with  your  wifn,  and  lal 
me  come  to  my  new  bom«»  as  soon  at 
possible? 

With  kind  regards  to  ilra.  tl.,  I  re- 
main, Youm,  truly, 

UAUtn 


THE    TEACHKHS*    8CI100L    GIT 
SCIENCE. 

Tus  Boston  Society  of  Natural 
History  has  recently  added  a  new 
feature  to  its  work,  which  merits  pub- 
lic attention.  Borne  of  its  m«*ndM*ni 
have  felt  for  a  longtime  f! 
might  be  done  to  diifase  a  k 
of  nutund  history  than  m  ai^com* 
plished  by  the  mi^ns  en)  libit  ion  of 
specimens,  qt  even  by  popolar  iKetitrsa. 
Through  the  muniiic^nce  of  *^  ^  '  u 
Cummingi,  a  gientltfrnan  wt' 
aa  an  enlight^iiMl  frMOMl  arid  gsms 
oua  scipportcr  of  th#  tMMM  nf  «»la 
lion,  a  schocd  of  mtitnusm  haa  g^eiUlly 
b#tA  op«Q«d  to  Boaim  tm  Itm  m^ 


principal  ot  tne  uwigiit  ocnooi,  is 
chairman),  have  arranged  the  plans 
for  its  work. 

In  a  letter  to  Superintendent  Phil- 
brick,  published  in  the  last  semi- 
annual report  of  the  Boston  public 
schools,  Prof.  Hyatt  says,  "The 
diffusion  of  the  knowledge  of  natural 
science  among  the  people  may  be 
aided  and  assisted  by  public  lectures 
on  science ;  but  no  very  decided  or 
permanent  good  can  be  anticipated, 
unless  the  minds  of  young  people  can 
be  acted  upon. 

Success,  therefore,  in  reaching  the 
roots  of  all  instruction  which  lie  in 
our  primary  and  grammar  schools 
can  only  be  satisfactorily  attained 
when  all  the  teachers  of  the  public 
and  private  schools  join  heartily  in 
the  enterprise. 

Qualified  scientific  workers  and 
lecturers  are  too  few,  and  too  much 
absorbed  by  strictly  professional  du- 
ties, to  act  of  themselves  and  directly 
upon  the  scholars  :  they  must  depend 
upon  the  teachers. 


tneir  teacuers. 

The  plan  of  the 
has  been  arranged  1 
present  winter  is  n 
result  of  the  ezp 
Kiles  as  State  Lecti 
ers'  institutes. 

The  opening  ecu 
Prof  Niles,  in  the 
sachusetts  Institul 
on  Saturday  aften 
Over  seven  himdj 
signed  the  circular 
during  the  previou 
thus  signified  thei 
come  the  regular  { 
"  School  of  Science 
teachers  were  prese 
lecture,  which  was 
Professor  as  introdi 
course.  Common  • 
to  show  the  characi 
bodies,  in  distinct 
which  are  artificia 
ference  between  o 
ganic  bodies  was  ta 
tinctions  that  exis 


w    lUiL  TTkr   "ruupir    »"**    oi  ::=•     f^uiLr". 
■Ijsis  L'f  ■Lii*^  *:ur:r  -  T*:imr«»ri  T:^      ■  ir?^:     -i     i-'s?«ji:>     )•     ":***  i^ 

ciizse    ir    vi:i::i    ?t>i1    "JTu-a  miiiii  -t    :ii-  l'lll'*;•"vi5^  m    -.-".i.-if-^  v  ?•; 

■ncicT  :■:  ziit  jorr^na  ir  Tit*-   n-'vui  nn.     -li'-i*    .^vi    s.-ii  •  i.s       'i  .  i.i.  v   ;  ^ 

-gxeai  dftcUK.  lA  r^nMjTT-L    v   '..iiw.  -^^r  ii:--  .jui^t  x:?i.ii   :ii  "si  -..  c  's'**'- 

fcom*  ^-f  "LI''  l»:^U  ZT.;-."^     uia    "H*  lil  *     i   ri-   .!:•:     i'.'i.X:     ;i     »:*ss..::>    1  ■'.-■ 

sent    :-T*;j;r-rL.-rii:r    ii:"  Zr.   ~^    2.  iL:ii-ru' t'     '-     T      .'.      .■.-.•:■•.».  ^i.-?- 

jvpenTe;   :yi    uiit    I-'^tTiims:  '^irr"'! ".  Tnn-^M*    ji     "i*-.    T.:'  ».•?  ".>;l;'..  S  m  ■.' 

id  bis  feXT»*fr.ni*n..':+  i'lurrrruiiiir   "nit  1".)tii::-.    ii-ri-:     'i    -»:■:    7     i.:-".        > 

aenJ  :*:«lij:  :::r!^i*:u-:i'Ti.  vii?  ?;Li-v»r*:if:   :;  l  ;m;.>*:   :.-..:.■    V*-..:' 

SThe  nrr:  Z*i*»«:a  "VTtt   r.;i:ii  mh  i.--  Z'-u"     ;n     ?■»■" '^;.'        Z';':'s:      .s*s;.  > 

Bipher^,  ll.'*  Tilrtili:iIli*ll;L    •    iJUrumrr-  liL^i    :*i**-l   '"::.""■  Sl»:':v»s?.'..       l'.'-i..k;.    -  c 

Bpressnre.  il-*  vjuiis.  uiii  m.?    'ri..!!.  r"*:i».  :i-:  r:s:  .1  :.:•:•.:  r-^-yi:";:    'f  >.  > 

Brted  of  tL*  T'":.7"*ii::Ll   r^t:'rrL.:i:7  :i:  uttvi-jvL  :.:■*':..      A  .•.■-Lrs;    ;  V«i>:.;.'.. 

a*iMM:bTi»ie'"tts.     I'j  L  wTi*;?  :i:   :r  r-  :  ;■  Iv    "^   f".  Tu"j.  v  ..f  Jol:-;  :.:'■.'..<■.,   ;* 

ii  quesii-:-i:*L.  li^*    r'r:d*;!*:K:    *:^i!:.-r.*«i  srZ  :.  :  i.-  v 

Mil  his  clii£«  ^^  •»rf^u'.;'r«-jj  :fit*  i-j-m*-        Ti'*   v.  re   .-:  ;":.:>  f-rs:  y;.i.T    *    v.- 

•k  for  th*-  !t«»:ci.  —  !*.*rLi«:i  d*:L.ri:r*r*  :;:  lii-'l  *  .n-..' -  i^  *-"    .v  ::■.•/,...      v.  :.^ 

he  Nor:la  AzDrrj::Li  ". : 'ir_i»»i :   t^. i  ii« ;  r^  * i" t i,? . - :  i.~  .;  :>:; r:-.. ji": .  > .  ;  .. : . ;■. ,* 

>e  aft*rsrari*  "i-^i  iz.  T.it  fTi-iT  :i  rriv^i  ::.:rST  :■.  .^rsi*  v..;. ';:>ci».  v.s  vT*,*»r 

special  ^  ul;  «T ': •!■:  >rT : ":  t  =.  2*  *.  n  k  : :  ":  k  r-;  i^*.  t.  j..":  "  /  ?. .:  .••:•;  s^:V.* .  >' :  v \ . v/.  - 

f>  of  the^tii*  ""-i.?  iTLv-i  i:i:c  :if  n.  i.jf  -.rr-c-*  *-  .>;v.:.v.v.;'  :.>  s.-.v'.v:: 

ckboard.  ibt  cli«  !:::  tii  z  :i*  i::lt..  Tirn  :.  r  r-T.  >■.;;;-.  ssi-^  v  ^>  ■.v.:vrs  .  a'^.^t 

he  instrjct-M  :»r>.v^  ir^^  . :.  :\  t  tt  :  ^V.  ■» L: .  -  : ,  v. .  ■:,:::>  i .  y»: -.: :  V. ;«!  s .-  */.*. * :  V. . *.'.  ij 

as  far  tbe  l*r.s=r:.Ti  1:.5  "-.er:.  '.zTrW  zirrr    i-f::-:::.  av.»5    .^v.  a  vv.y   tv.r.oh 

obj ec t-1  e»5-jn :  :  rj  *•  ns  *■  :l  '. ^r  r?  : :  :  h  *  larrf  r  s-vJ. : .  w  i * '  1  v  .^*^*\^ -.v. v'.  > V.  i . J . 
is  finding  out  for  ::j*'TL>r>T-f,  i«  ::        I:  :r..r.'  V-i^  ;v.;  uv..  :V..*:  ^i\'\  .>^".\* 

Pe,  the  facts  ko  zli :  :■  :•  "h-r  ti  :■  wn .  h  i v r  :  ■-,  1 1:  v.: AxI »  :\^r  r.: r :*. ; sV.  ,■/.»;:**  «\i .  1  \ 

en  followfl  an  a^i.1.■:^2l^:r  !r.^T-re.  :3  of  ::.o  lv»>:o:i  s%*>.xV'ls  >j^v'..',\i".^>  t»i' 

icb  Prof.  Xi'es  ffave  :he  rrsu]:.*  of  the  >a:r.o  kir.a  .u<  l^..^^o  u>o»i  \\\  t^o  1i*n 

own  extensire   obsrrvari-.as  with  sons  in  nnr.or;iU\;^\.  K*:;v.\v.  ;»«*!  ?«»«0 

^rd  to  the  physical  features  of  the  ogy.     Tho  v^iV-i*  a\\k\  piv.\\j>o  oc'  th.r« 

ite.     In  conclusion,  it  was  pointed  teaohors'  si'h^^K^f  s%;«mu»\  thus  :.»»'.|m 

^  by  the  instructor,  tliat  tlie  true  way  ciously  oiMnnionrrd.  i*:»u  h:u%U>  :»^  \  ot 

study  geography  is,   to  learn  the  W  estiniatod.     It   is  i»no  i»l'  tho  iui»-»i 

Vsieal  peculiarities    of   the    region  cluvring  hiijnj*  ol'  piN»»;iv>T.  \\\  iho  .It 

idied,  —  the  great  natural  featun^s  nvtion  of  pi>»por  ^noutitlo  odu.  :»it.M» 

mountain-chains,   valleys,    slopes,  which    wo    luno    oh>oi-\od,    \\\    ihi-. 

d  river-systems.     These  determine  country  or  in  Kui\»|»o. 
a  position  of   manufacturing  and  \\.  i\  N. 


764 


«  The  Sunday-School  Idea:' 


» 


••  THE  SUNDAY-SCHOOL  IDEA." 

This  is  the  title  of  a  booV  by 
John  S,  Hart,  the  distingtiished  head 
of  the  State  Normal  School  of  New 
Jersey,  He  has  for  many  years  been 
engaged  in  Sunday-scliool  work;  so 
that  the  book  cornea  with  twofold 
authority  from  one  who,  by  virtue  of 
his  profeaaioD,  is  acquainted  with 
methods  of  organization  and  the  de- 
tails of  teaching,  and  whose  long  con- 
nection with  Sunday  si^hooU  has  en- 
abled him  to  speak  from  experience 
of  their  needs. 

He  divider  hia  subject  into  five 
general  heads*  viz. :  — 

1.  The  object  of  the  Sunday 
school. 

2.  Its  organization  ;  including  the 
duties  of  the  superintendent,  the 
duties  of  the  teachers, 

3.  Teachers  in  council,  treating  of 
teach erd^  meetings,  institutes,   &c. 

4.  The  Sunday-school  library. 

5.  Miscellaneous  topics ;  including 
anniversaries^  music,  &l€. 

What  is  the  Sun  day-school  idea  ? 
In  Mr.  Hart's  word^s,  ''It  is  the  op- 
portunity which  the  Sunday  school 
offers  for  the  employment  of  laymen, 
in  the  work  of  making  known  the 
gospel,  and  bringing  men  under  its 
influence. 

He  believes  it  the  duty  of  every 
one  to  help  the  coming  of  God'S 
kingdom;  not  only  by  being  what  he 
ouglit,  but  by  doing  every  thing  that 
he  can  in  the  g<xid  cause.  In  the 
Sunday  school  is  found  one  of  the 
broadest,  as  well  as  one  of  the  most 
promising,  Gelds  of  labor. 

The  first  objtH^t  of  this  institution, 
according  t^  him,  is  the  **  conversion 
of  the  ehildrenj''  or,  laying  aside 
all  technicalities,  its  object  is  to 
bring  children  to  know  and  feel  the 
great  truths  of   GUmUuiivl^,  ^tud  to 


use  them  as  the  found 
lives*     The  study  of  the 
cessary  to  tlie  underst 
truths ;  hence,  the  Bib 
chief  instrument  in  oar  wo 

A   second   object   of 
School  is  to  prepare  okkq 
for    the  work    of     the 
the  church  is  organized  furl 
purposes,  as  well  as  for 
benetit  of  its  members, 
Sunday  school  be.     It  ui 
lamentable  faet^  that  more" 
half  of  the  ehlldrea  in  Um 
world  have  nut  the 
connection  with  some 
Hence,  it  should  he  th« 
deavor  of  every  teacher 
the  school,  to  g:\ther   in  chl 
all  quarters,     Firsts  from 
itself;  secondly,  from  the 
parts  of  the  city  or  town 
dren   run    at   large,    with<] 
knowledge  of  the  extsteiic 
place   as    the  Sunday 
Hart  urges  that  live  or  six  i 
should   be   attached  lo  ev 
whose  duty  it  sliould  be, 
session  and  thnjugli  lb  it 
the   by-ways   an<l  a11ey«t  of 
and  gather  in  the  ehildn^i] 
are  t<x>  far  off  too  come  iul 
ish-school,     let     the    Sun4 
support    mission    branchiMr] 
benetit 

The  organization  of  ll 
school  consists  in  tlic  s^l 
superintendent  bj*  the  chu 
the  minister,  and  the  ap{K»i{ 
the  superintendeat  of  a 
brarian,  chorister,  tett«*be 
sionartcs.  The  Superintend 
be  a  true  Christian  ; 
executive  ability,  and  a  ttj 
al  ini^uencej  should  b« 
manly  and  quiet  don  -»- 
By,  nor  fretful*  nor  -a 
duties  should  be^  fir»t|  Ui  i 


The  Sunday-School  Idea.' 


rc5 


aSctirs  and  teachers;  second! v, 
^  m»  woH  as  poss^iblci  that  they  do 
dntj;  thirdly,  to  become  as 
]y  acqaainti»<l  with  teachers 
iljira  aa  he  can;  fourthly,  to 
Jielf  fally  master  of  the  les- 
tii«}  author  supposes  a  uniform 
5  fifthly,  to  preserve  order 
'  ■  )o\,  not  by  means 
i  J  ne,  but  by  obser- 
II  and  jjer^nai  tn^aeace.  Much 
floo  is  given  to  the  detaU^s  of 
Hg  and  closing  the  school,  read* 
hymn,  &c, ;  all  of  whinh  it  is 

ry  to  discTt$s  here* 
teacher  really  occupies  the 
ant  position  in  the  Sunday 
!br  he  h  the  only  one  who 
direct  contact  with  the  chil- 
he  is  the  one  who  will  he 
lential  in  furthering  the  great 
the  Sunday  school,  namely, 
g  of  Christian  men  and 
This  end  he  must  have 
view ;  it  must  be  the  goal 
which  he  is  journeying;  it 
be  always  present  with  him, 
ni^  his  heart  with  love  for  tho^e 
intluence,  and  quickening 
in  all  its  searchings  after 
ut,  although  this  object  must 
ve-power,  he  must  not  be 
\y  bringing  it  to  the  notice 
l|>ils>  lost  he  destroy  it*  subtle 
He  will  be  working  for  the 
much  when  he  is  teaching 
>hy  of  Palestine,  or  telling 
fms  of  the  Egyptians*  pro- 
illis  at  heart  to  interest 
fc  the  accessories  of 
ff  so  that  he  may  at  least 
to  its  great  truths.  The 
»fiant  instrument  in  a  teach- 
is  the  affection  of  his  pupils ; 
list  try  to  gain  it  by  kindly 
talhy  with  all,  and  interest  in 
faglfarei  by  a  pleasant  face,  voice, 
^Hmer,  and  by  making  all  re- 


straint as  h'ttle  irksome  as  possible. 
Visiting  scholars  at  their  homes  is  an 
important  aid  here,  for  by  this  little 
attention  a  teacher  shows  his  interest 
in  them,  and  awakens  a  corresp<mding 
affection  on  their  part  towards  him.' 
Their  love  once  secured,  he  will  he 
more  likely  to  have  his  wishes  regard- 
ed, and  thus  secure  well-prepared 
lessons,  punctuadity,  good  attend- 
ance, and  order. 

The  author  gives  many  wise  sug- 
gestions with  regard  to  the  teachers 
duty  as  an  instructor.  In  the  first 
place,  he  must  hare  a  good  gieneral 
knowledge  of  the  Scriptures.  Secondly, 
he  must  be  thoroughly  prepared  on 
the  lesson  of  the  day.  Thirdly,  his  in- 
formation upon  general  topics  must  be 
fair,  \Vhen  becomes  before  his  class, 
he  must  remember  that  he  is  not  there 
simply  to  hear  them  recite  a  li^sson  j 
he  is  there  to  give  them  a  lesson. 
He  must  be  so  thoroughly  conversant 
with  the  subject,  that  he  can  ch^se  his 
b<x)k  and  talk  freely.  It  is  not,  however, 
desirable  that  he  alone  should  talk: 
he  must  ask  questions  to  exercise  the 
pupils*  thinking  powers.  Fourthly, 
he  must  guard  against  talking  alK)V6 
the  comprehension  of  his  listeners, 
and  must  be  careful  that  they  under- 
stand the  meanings  of  words.  The 
author  gives  instances  of  strange 
ignorance  upon  this  point:  in  one 
case,  a  class  of  girls  of  seventeen 
and  over  did  not  know  the  meaning  of 
^* cloven,"  in  the  expression  "cloven 
tongues  of  fire  ; "  another  class  of  boys 
a  little  younger  thought  that  "mani- 
fold '*  sins  meant  sins  relating  to  man. 
Fifthly.  Variety  in  method  and  in 
illustration  is  indispensable  ;  there 
is  no  one  best  way  of  teaching.  Last- 
ly, a  teacher  should  take  a  teachers' 
Sunday-school  magazine  or  paper,  and 
should  attend  conventions* 

Kext  to  the  duties  of  teachers  as 


7G6 


«  Tht  Sunday-School  Idear 


individuals,  come  their  duties  as  mem- 
bers of  a  body*  Of  all  the  services 
of  tGachcpa>  the  weekly  meeting  stands 
fii-^t  in  importance.  It  is  composed 
of  the  teachers  of  one  church,  who 
meet  to  talk  over  methodi*  and  to 
gtiidy  the  lesson  for  the  following 
Sunday.  Mr.  Hart  thoroughly  be- 
lieves in  uniform  lessons,  "  la  a 
majority  of  case3,"  he  aaya,  "it  ia 
from  thoughtlessness  that  a  Sunday 
ficlmol  is  arranged  so  that  each  class 
selects  its  own  lesson,  and  studies  on 
its  own  acconnt"  *'^It  is  safe  to 
say,"  he  continues^  "that  where  there 
is  not  uniformity,  there  is  a  poorer 
etyle  of  preparation  and  a  lower  grade 
of  teaching/*  Besides,  there  is  then 
no  object  in  the  teachers'  meeting 
except  the  discussion  of  business  or 
mere  social  enjoyment.  The  opening 
and  closing  exercises,  tooj  have  not  so 
much  powfjir  a^  they  would  have  if 
the  superintendent  could  make  them 
illustrative  of  what  the  whole  school 
had  been  studying.  Suppose  tlie  sys- 
tem of  uniform  lessons  in  operation. 
The  lesson  is  prepared  by  the  older 
ones  thoroughly,  by  the  younger  less 
miinitely:  there  is  a  certain  bond  of 
sympathy  throughout  the  school.  If 
a  teacher  is  absent,  anotlier  teaclier 
is  prepared  to  take  his  class;  so  that 
the  time  is  not  wastefl  Tho  teach- 
ers' meetings,  then^  have  a  definite 
object,  —  tliey  actually  prepare  the 
teacher  for  his  next  Sunday's  work. 
They  also  prepare  the  superintend- 
ent for  his  work^  and  enable  him  to 
apply  or  to  illustrate  the  lesson  of  the 
day. 

An  institute  is  a  sort  of  temporary 
normal  school.  It  is  composed  of 
teachers  from  different  towns,  who  for 


several  weeks  put  then 
under  a  suitable  instr 

A  union  or  convention 
to  bring  together  the 
State  or  county  for  instroctian  tli 
lectures. 

The  chapter  on  the  lib 
voted*  to  the   detail  of 
which  it  is  not  necessary  to  \ 

Under  the  head  of  '•  ] 
Topics/*  the  music  is  di 
This  should  be  cif  a  ct 
buoyant  dianict^r,  without  \ 
ing  into  le\nty ;  it  shoii 
character  to  inspiro  relid 
tiona,  such  aa  might  be 
the  church;  it  should  be 
soft  and  gentle,  8ometim«A  j 
exultant.  A  chorister  ts  ta^ 
sable,  — -  one  whose  rotco  can  In 
make  itself  heard  abo?«  Ike  i 
and  be  a  guide  to  the  whole  edi 

Sunday-school  anntversanc^ 
on  the  whole,  highly  beoefifi 
call  the  parents  and  frie 
children  together;  they 
pastor  to  speak  words  ©f  > 
cheer  to  parents  And 
once ;  and  they  enable 
to  show,  by  their  music  anil 
ercises,  their  progress  tl 
year.  Tho  author  deplor 
an  exhibition  of  indirida 
either  at  anniversaries  or  i 
time;  but  he  says,  '*! 
thirty  girls,  of  ten  y« 
up  before  the  con  grog 
in  earnest  the  tweaty-tlil 
It  would  not  occupy  coorei 
minutes ;  and  yet  tfc  wo 
those  thirty  childrsD,  and  ! 
times  thirty  friemi^ 
the  occasion  which  notltiiig  eki 
do. 


ijortiraUurt* 


SS   OF  A  BOTAM^rr  AHOXG 
FLASTS     AXD      CLIMATES 
P  CALIFOBMA- 

^iTH  rsfeffenee  tn  «i^i^ 
PaciBc  coti!^  cor  MkiCilkd 
ineutai  lailfoad  is  ft  big  gimf 
fod  Willi  stcsm  and  cst«  it 
|ies  ixumj  a  toomt  against  the 
Ha  of  tba  gokka  Stat«^  -«  gejrwis^ 
bees,  Tosemitey  &c^  anong  wiudb 
bump  and  ritoeM^  mud  nbooad 
itf  ir  Atlantic  hooct,  Umiacd  and 
re<i  tbeir  memoffies  aiada  «p  of  a 
ey  jam  of  caocadw  and  deserts 
potmtain  dames,  each  tiaTeller 
f  eatopaetiiig  hiimelf  into 
reaiiddgie  of  car  and  coach, 
,  to  see  little  as  poamble* 
ur  toQxists  were  wliizxed 
and  monntoin  from  Sao 
to  Yosemite  in  two  days ; 
learn  tliat  arrangements  are 
E»ade  for  next  season  whereby 
city  of  the  shot  will  be  in- 
i  one  day.  Thus  13  modem 
piritnalized.  Thus  are  time  and 
-  and  travellers  —  anQihilated- 
|VG  lived  in  Yosemite  Valley 
e  years,  and  hare  never    met    a 

Eavelier  who  had  seen  the  Great 
Plain  of  Califomia  in  fiower- 
ts  almost  universally  remem- 
a  scorched  and  dust-clouded 
e,  treeless  and  drear  as  the  deserts 
This  magniiicent  plain  is 
;  scarce  any  of  its  beauty 
n,  even  to  Califomians ;  and  we 


are  tlMrefim  eagtt  to  speak  in  ita 
praise,  afl  the  nwia  beeaase  i^  planl 
inhabitants  aie  so  bat  disappeaiiiig ' 
beatttlb  gaog^plowi  and    Sampling 
hooU  of  flocks  and  heids. 

On  the  seeood  day  of  April,  1888, 
I  left  Saa  Francisco  for  Yosemito 
TaOcj,  compamoned  by  a  yoong  Eog- 
Itshman,      Our   orthodox    fonts    of 
**  nearest  and  quickest "  was  by  steam 
to  Stockton,  thence  by  stage  to  Conl- 
terrille  or  Kariposa,  and  the  remain- 
der of  the  way  over  the  mountains 
on  borsebsck.     Bnt  we  had  plenty  of 
time,  and  proposed  drifting  leisurely 
monntainward,  via  the  valley  of  San 
Jos^  Pacbeco   Pass,   and    the  plain 
of  San  Joaquin^  and  thence  to  Yo- 
semite by  any  road  that  we  chanced 
to  find;  enjoying    the    flowers   and 
light,  **  camping  out "  in  oar  blankets 
wherever  overtaken    by   night,    and 
paying  very  little  compliance  to  loads 
or  times.      Accordingly,   we   crowed 
"  the  Bay  "  by  the   Oakland   ferry, 
and  proceeded  up  the  valley  of  San 
Jose,     This  is  one  of  the  most  fertile 
of  the  many  small  valleys  of  the  coast ; 
its  rich  bottoms  are  filled  with  wheat- 
fields  and    orchards   and   vineyards, 
and  alfalfa  meadows.      It   was  now 
spring-time,  and  the  weather  was  the 
best  that  we  ever  enjoyed.    Larks  and 
streams  sang  everywhere  ;  the  sky  was 
cloudless,  and  the  whole  valley  was  a 
lake   of  light.     The  atmosphere  wss 
spicy  and  exhilarating ;  my  companion 
m 


768 


Rambles  of  a  Botanist  in  Calif omicu 


acknowledging  ovex  lib  national  pre- 
judices that  it  was  tLe  best  he  ever 
breathed,  —  raore  dtdiciou^ly  fragrant 
than  the  hawthorn  hedges  of  Eng^ 
land.  Til  13  San  Josd  sky  was  not 
simply  pure  and  bright,  and  mixed 
with  plenty  of  well-tempered  sun- 
ehtnc,  but  it  possessed  a  positive 
flavor,  —  a  tdste^  that  thrilled  from 
the  hings  throughout  every  tissue  of 
the  body;  every  inspiration  yielded  a 
corresponding  well-defined  piece  of 
pleasure^  that  a'ivakened  thousands  of 
new  palates  everywhere.  Both  my 
companion  and  myself  had  lived  and 
dozed  on  common  air  for  nearly  thirty 
year.^,  and  never  before  this  discov- 
ered that  our  hodies  contained  such 
multitudes  of  palates,  or  that  this 
mortal  fleshy  ao  little  valued  by  phl- 
losopliers  and  teachers,  was  possessed 
of  m  vast  a  capacity  for  happiness. 

We  emerged  fi*om  this  ether  bap- 
tism new  creatures,  bom  again ;  and 
truly  not  until  tliis  time  were  we  fair- 
ly conscious  that  we  were  bora  at  all. 
Kever  more,  thought  I,  as  we  strode 
forward  &t  faster  speed,  never  more 
shall  I  sentimentalize  about  getting 
out  of  the  mortal  coil :  thi?  flesh  is 
not  a  coil,  it  is  a  sponge  steeped  in 
immortality. 

The  foothills  (that  form  the  sides 
of  our  blessed  font)  are  in  near  view 
all  the  w^ay  to  Gilroy ;  those  of  the 
Monte  Diablo  range  on  our  left,  those 
of  Santa  Cruz  on  our  right ;  they  are 
smooth  and  flowing,  and  come  down 
to  the  bottom  levels  in  curves  of  most 
surpassing  beauty ;  they  still  wear 
natural  flowerSj  which  do  not  occur 
singly  or  in  handfuls,  scattered  about 
in  the  grass,  but  they  grow^  close  to- 
gether, in  smooth,  cloud-shaped  corn- 
pan  ieSi  acres  and  hill-sides  in  sixe, 
white,  purple,  and  yellow,  separate, 
yet  blending  to  each  other  like  the 
lis  upon  which  they  gto^ .    ^<i%\\^"& 


the  white,  purple,  and  ytll 
we  occasionally  sair  a  thic 
let  castilleias  and  «li 
pines^  also  splendid  fl«ifl 
(Avena  fatua),     Tbedelifi 
{G,  tricolor)  was    re 
sweeping  hill-*id«  fih«« 
tosiphou  (JL  1 

nias  were  evt^i^;    „  .      byj 
sides,  and  lilies  and  dodo 
the  streams:  no  w^ 
so  good,  waving  *i, 
a  firmament  gf  flowers  I    i  1 
cide  which  of  the  pknt-^ 
most  fragant :  pvrhnpa  it  wa 
composed  mostly  of  a  delic 
wort ;   but  doublle**  sdl 
in  balming  the  sky.   Anio]( 
observed  the  laurel  (Oirodti 
fomicajj  and  magtiificeiifc^ 
tree-shaped    gronpa    of 
specimens  over  ^ev*«.Q  fth 
ter ;  the  white  s^i 

and   (Q,   iMnj         ,.   rli« 
Q,  sonomcnsi^}^  lire-oak  {i 
lia)y   together   with    ^evru 
species  on  the  hills,  whose  J 
do  not  know.     The   pi 
west  wind  has   perm^ 
all  unsheltered  treeo   up 
groves  upon  the  moro 
sides    lean    forward    liko 
lodged     wheat       The     S:i 
l^loun tains    have    grand 
red -wood      (&^t{<»ia  §ftmt 
some  specimens  nrair  fiflyl 
cum  fere  nee. 

Tlie  Paclieoo  Fiii 
enchanting  than  the  valle] 
sounded  with  crystiil  wat«ll 
loud  shouts  of  thousaoda  i 
quailn.       In  size  thi'se 
Uie  eastern  quail ;  not  quit 
in  form.     The  male  has 
der  crtsst,  wider  at  top  tl» 
which   he  can   hold   utimi^ 
droop  backward  on  liia  dc 
\^%,til  Qver  hid  bfU,  at  plea^ltrt 


of 

■tttifa!  ami.  par^  wm 
oraHadaof  % 


it&ia 


smnmit  of  tHii  pMSy  accord* 
obseir&Haiis  made  bjr  tbe  State 
ical  sozrey,  ia  foarteen  hun- 
md  teventj'two  feet  above 
Pacheoo  Pedc»  on  tbe  soath 
tbe  pBMf  is  two  tboasand 
liiiiidred  and  forty -fire  feet 
barpv  and  capped  with  tracbjte, 
ms  aa  excellent  landmark  for 
in  Joaquin  and  San  Jos^  val* 
r  ft  great  distance ;  and  I  have 
titljr  seen   it  from  tbe  summit 


wamf  k«  fcraMil  ol  ibe 
a  Am  §9wm^»M.  1  wUi 
^it«  a  liarv^est  gatbertd  by  «•  horn 
ODfl  sqnans  yard  of  plAia»  of^oniW 
HtU's  Ferry,  a  fev  mtka  ftwi  Ow 
coast-range  fbol-bitt%  aad  lakea  tl 
random,  like  a  cnpfUl  of  wator  froM 
a  lake.  Aa  approximatioti  wai  tiiad^ 
to  tbe  number  of  grass  fiow«r«  by 
counting  the  panicles,  to  the  doweri 
of  the  CompoMiim  by  counting  the 
heads.  The  momet  wei«  roughly 
estimated  by  counting  the  number 
growing  on  one  .sqimro  inch.  All  the 
flowers  of  the  other  natural  ordaia 
were  counted  one  by  one. 


770 


Bamhles  of  a  Boiamat  in  Californi 


39staT«l  orders. 


Ko.  of  flowers* 


Gramine^ i9,S30  PAnidci      1000. 

Com(KMiue 132,125  Ueadi        3,3^5. 

l^guitilnQsie. *  2,620  ♦.,-,. 

Umbeiliforffi 620  .     .     . 

PoltanoniacciB 401  .     .     . 

Scrofihtilariflceai 169  ... 

? 85  ... 

liiibiit<*eie *     *     .40  .    .     .     .     «     . 

OcnmiacciB  ....  .    .    .22 


Musci 1,000,000    FanaiuL  and  BicTftnuiii 


Komber  of  nattiral  orders,  9  to  10.    Of  tpedcs,  16, 

Tocol  num  ber  of  open  flowers,  1 65>9 1 3.    Moise«,  1 ,000,000. 


I 


¥ 


In  the  above  efitimata,  only  open 
living  flowere  were  tat  en  iuto  ac- 
count Thote  wliich  were  still  in 
bud,  together  with  those  that  were 
past  flower,  would  number  nearly  as 
many  more.  The  heads  of  the  Com- 
positw  are  usually  regarded  as  one 
flower.  Even  then  we  would  have 
seven  thousand  two  hundred  and 
aixty-two  flowers,  together  with  a 
thousand  silky,  transparent  panicles 
of  grasses,  and  a  floor  an  inch  thick 
of  hooded  mosses.  The  grasses  have 
scarce  any  leaves,  and  do  not  inter- 
fere with  the  light  of  the  other  flow- 
ersj  or  with  their  color,  in  any  marked 
degree. 

The  yellow  of  the  Compasiiw  is 
pure,  deep,  bossy  solar  gold,  as  if 
the  sun  had  fliled  their  rays  and 
flowerets  with  the  undiluted  sub- 
stance of  his  very  self.  In  depth, 
the  purple  stratum  was  about  ten  or 
twelv^e  inches  j  the  yellow,  seven  or 
eight,  and  the  mosa  stratum,  of 
greenish  yellow,  one.  But  the  pur- 
ple stratum  is  dilute  and  transparent, 
so  that  the  lower  yellow  is  hardly 
dimmed;  and  only  when  a  horizontal 
view  is  taken,  so  as  to  look  edgewise 
through  the  upper  stratum,  does  its 
color  predominate.  Therefore,  when 
one  8tan<hj  on  a  wide  level  area,  the 
gold  immediately  about  him  seems  all 
in    all  J    but    ou  ^;twl\iaU^   Iwikui^ 


wider    the    gold   dims^  ant 

predominates. 

In    this    botanist^s  betteri 
drifted  separate  many  dayH,j 
gest  days  of  my  life,  resting 
from  the  blessed  plants,  in 
bugs  and  sun-bom  butte 
watched   the   smooth-boani 
lopes,  or  startled  hares,  ski 
and  swift  as  eagles'  shadows^ 
ing  from  all  this  fervid  life, 
plated  the  Sierras,  that  migh 
rising  from  the  brink  of  thia 
gold,  miles  in  the  higher  bl 
aloft  its  domes  and  spires 
white,   unsliining   and 
pure  as  pearl,  clear  and  un< 
the  flowers  at  my  feet     N' 
mortal  eyes  more  thronged  wl 
ty.  When  I  walked,  more  thi 
dred  flowers  touched  my  feetjj 
step  closing  above  them,  as  i^ 
in  water.     Gro  where  I  woul^ 
west,  north  or  south,  I  8til] 
and   rippled    in  flowor-gemy 
night  I  lay  between  two  aki 
ver  and  gold,  spanned  by  it  1X1 
and  nestling  deep  in  a  gdk 
vegetable  suns.     But    all  tb 
of  life  is  fading  year  by  ye^ 
ing  hke  the  glow  of  a  suDsel 
dering  in  the  grossneas  of  m 
fl^nement     An  larks  are  g^ 
sackfuls,  ruMed  and  blood-* 
toy    morbid    appetite    in    \ 


Stunbles  of  a  BotanUt  in  California. 


771 


is  flower-gold  gathered  to 
er*pens  iu  mlBbegotten  car- 
oxen  and  sheep.  So  always 
be  plant  peoples  of  temperate 
J  —  feeble,  unarmed,  uncon- 
tf  they  aie  easily  overthrown, 
their  landfl  to  man  and  hia  few 
Ue  beasts  and  gnaaee.  Bat 
flower  oatiooB  of  the 
arcned  and  combined,  hold 
\y  their  rightful  kingdom;  and 
the  lordly  biped  trespaasing 
tropic  gardens  ;  c-atbrier»  seam 
and  saw-palmettoed  grate 
and  bayonets  glide  to  his 
marrow.  But^  alas  !  here 
nt  of  this  plain  is  armed ; 
>1e  mint,  epeared  and  lanced 
istle.  Tlie  weapons  of  plants 
by*9ome  to  be  a  conse- 
of  **  man^s  first  disobedience/' 
i  that  all  the  flowers  of  the 
kento  and  San  Joaquin,  were 
li  —  ^  thomed  and  thistled  in 

nary  and  March  is  the  ripe 
time  of  the  plain,  April  the 
r,  and  Muy  the  autumn.  The 
l^nnings  of  spring  are  con- 
fby  the  rains,  which  generally 
ia  Dtaember.  Bains  between 
id  I>eoeiJaber  are  rery  rare, 
fcliewinteTy — a  winter  of  drouth 
it.  But  in  no  part  of  the  year 
k-life  wholly  awanting.  A  few 
Ith  bulbs  very  deep  in  the  soil, 
toey  compound  called  tar- weed, 
(•pecies  of  eri  gonum,  are  slen- 
boUBpicuous  links  which  con- 
floral  chain  from  season  to 
d  the  year. 

r«  ready  to  recommence 

to    Yoaemite,  May  wait 

done.      The  flowers  and 

late  in  the  pomp  and  pow- 

ii  were  dead,  and  their 

enaped  and   crackled 

oor  feet,  as  if  they  ^ad  liter- 


ally been  "cast  into  the  oven.'* 
They  were  not  given  weeks  and 
months  to  gr6w  old ;  but  they  aged 
and  died  ere  they  conld  fade,  stand- 
ing side  by  side,  erect  and  undecayed, 
bearing  seed-cells  and  urns  beautiful 
as  corollas. 

After  travelling  two  days  among 
the  delightful  death  of  this  sunny 
winter,  we  came  to  another  summer 
in  the  Sierra  foothills.  Flowers  were 
spread  confidingiy  open,  and  streams 
and  winds  were  cool.  Above  Coul- 
terville,  forty  or  flfty  miles  farther  in 
the  mountains,  we  came  to  spring. 
The  leaves  of  the  mountain-oaks 
were  small  and  drooping,  and  still 
wore  their  first  timings  of  crimson 
and  purple ;  and  the  wrinkles  of  their 
bud-folds  were  still  distinct,  as  if  new- 
ly opened ;  and,  scattered  over  banks 
and  sunny  slopes,  thousands  of  gentle 
plants  were  tasting  life  for  the  first 
time.  A  few  miles  farther,  on  the 
Pilot  Peak  ridge,  we  cam^  to  the  edge 
of  a  winter.  Few  growing  leaves 
were  to  be  seen ;  the  highest  and 
youngest  of  the  lilies  and  spring  vio- 
lets were  far  below;  winter  scales 
were  still  wrapt  close  on  the  buds  of 
dwarf  oaks  and  hazels.  The  great 
sngar-pinea  wared  their  long  arms,  as 
if  about  to  speak  ;  and  we  soon  were 
in  deep  snow.  After  we  had  reached 
the  highest  part  of  the  ridge,  clouds 
began  to  gather,  storm-winds  swept 
the  forest,  and  snow  began  to  fall 
thick  and  blinding.  Fortunately,  we 
reached  a  sort  of  shingle  cabin  at 
Crane  Flat,  where  we  sheltered  until 
the  next  day.  Thus,  in  less  than  a 
week  from  the  hot  autumn  of  San 
Joaquin,  we  were  struggling  in  a  be- 
wildering storm  of  mountain  winter. 
This  was  on  or  abont  May  20,  at  an 
elevation  of  six  thousand  one  hundred 
and  thirty  feet.  Here  the  forest  is 
magnificent^  cotnpoaed   in    part    of 


F 


N 


772 


Works  and  Days  in  May. 


• 


the  811  gar-pine  (Pinus  Lamheri{ana\ 
wliich  is  the  king  of  all  pineS|  most 
nohle  in  manners  and  langnago. 
Many  specimens  are  over  two  hun* 
dred  feet  in  height^  and  eight  to  ten 
in  diameter^  fresh  and  sound  as  the 
Bun  which  made  them.  The  yellow  pine 
(Pinus  pQtiderom)  also  grows  here, 
and  the  cedar  {Lib&cedrus  decurren^)  ; 
but  the  bulk  of  the  forest  is  made  up 
of  the  two  silver  firs  (Plcea  grandis 
and  Picea  amahHts)^  the  former  al- 
ways greatly  predominating  at  this 
altitude.  Descending  from  this  win- 
ter towards  the  Merced,  the  snow 
gradually  disappeared  from  the 
ground  and  sky,  tender  leaves  unfold- 
ed less  and  less  doubtfully,  violets 
and  lilies  shone  about  us  once  more, 
and  at  length,  arriving  in  the  glorious 
Yosemite,  we  found  it  full  of  summer 
and  spring.  Thus,  as  colors  blend  in 
a  rainbow,  and  as  mountains  curve  to 
a  plain^  so  meet  and  blend  the  plants 
and  seasons  of  this  delightsome  land. 

J.  MuiR. 


WORKS  ANB  BATS  IN  MAY. 

Thie  spring  of  the  almanacs  is  a 
delusion.  Steighs  are  in  order  in 
March,  and  April  days  wet  and  un po- 
etical. Imaginative  people  think 
they  see  the  robes  of  Spring  in  the 
upspringing  grass,  and  giddy  robins 
make  short  runs,  and  then  pause  to 
consider  things,  as  if  not  quite  sure 
about  the  weather.  Small  children 
array  themselves  in  paper  flowers, 
call  it  May  Day,  and  furnish  exam- 
ples of  the  early  pious  bud  trans- 
ferred to  heaven. 

Suddenly  fur  capes  become  a  bur- 
den, and  the  house-mother  is  called 
upon  for  thinner  clothes.  Camphor 
and  cedar-closets  are  in  order;  and 
the  peas  planted  in  L^t^  m\wl  ^t^n- 


ish  the  despairing  planter  with 
ness.      There   is   no  spring 
England.     Winter  fixra  bttm 
lins  are  wanted.     It  is  warm 
abniptly  f  and  the  house-mot 
out  to  consider  the  garden.    Tliij 
verbial  woman  who  stands  next 
preacher  "  had  many  virtues,  and' 
own  works  praise  her  in  the  gataqf 
but  she  never   bad  a  garden, 
did  not  need  that  disK^pline* 
virtue  is  now  demanded ;  and  the ! 
garden  haa  become  for  some  a 
of  grace.     The  ground  is  roagfa 
hare ;  not  even  the  remembcsMl 
last  summer's  glory   remains. 
place  is  like  a  sheet  of  paper, 
for  words,  good  or  bad* 
may  be  re-written  or  destioyi 
lovely;  but  the  gulden  is  madsi 
a  season,  and  lasts  all  summer,  be 
paradise  or  a  potters  field. 

The  postman  springeth  up  like 
flower,  and  beareth  nothing  bat  l^i 
Catalogues  without  number    a{i. 
Distracting  lists  of  new  flowen 
into  printed  bloom.      Books 
hundred  leaves   tell    of  noveki«  la 
seeds ;  and  the  florists  become  m^ 
cious  in  advertising  the  wondeti  of 
centaurea,    gymnocarpa,   alteaajiih*' 
raS|  and  arbutilon  Thompsonii.   Tkt 
sweet    days    of    bachelor^s    ImttlNH 
lady^s  slipper,  and  foi^t-me-not  in 
gone ;  and  these  things  have  taktn 
their  places.      To  the  ho^cultatally 
untutored  mind   they  are  appal): 
and  we  cannot  wonder  that  the  h< 
mother  is  perplexed.     Meanwhile 
spring    has   been  omitted;  attd 
summer  days  have  come.     Tb«re  is  • 
lawn  before  the  house ;  and   i& 
grass  are  ''  hearts  and  rounds," 
must   be  filled  with  something 
will  bloom  or  look  pretty,     Wbol, 
how,  are  the  questions. 

What  do  you  propose  to  da  with  tilt 
flowers?  ^Do?    Why,  to  look  ppstly. 


i 
t; 


i 

is*    \ 

i 


Whrl^  mgd  Ikxyg  in  Mty, 


773 


ftOfigm  wmjf 
tvD  tblngt  do  » 
Ton  oniHt  Ihp 
cnl-Ao'vos  is  tM 

9  J  m  ooiBtag  to  ipesd  Joly ; 
be 


r  donbu, 
tbefloriit. 
fiofisl  Rpiics*^— 
iip|K*f  uTiMicrar  HI 
Time,  Jan«»  W7L  Tfce  old 
itii  its  i^tctnrm  cma  1m  smfe^ 
xL  We  cftx«  notlxiiig  l»r 
of  Tkttdn,  tlie  cariMitiesi 
gttsrdtr  lUed,  lojal 
gs,  ftad  0tli«r  mndi'bewntteii 
tats.  Forgrttjng  hiftofj,  wt  can 
>  bj  tlw  Often  window  mud  look 
rn  on  the  gnrden,  the  oulj  fredi 
•  in  the  whole  muJtj  old  eofXxL 
besih  the  windows  ts  a  hroadi 
Mlled  wait  8t retch  itig  ttratght 
Bnt  the  wonderful  lawB.  Sach 
Rrnot  known  in  the  United  States, 
either  01  de^  noble  trees  stand  in 

»iow9  or  picturesque  groups. 
JQe  awaj  in  two  long  proces- 
11%  with  the  lorelj  sheet  of  water 
ID  UTor  their  beau  ty  bet  wee  n.  Th  it 
Odie  of  the  great  landscape  tri- 
iphs  of  England f  and  is  perhaps 
ailiar  through  photographs.  Oar 
taent  interest  is  with  the  flower 
ders.  On  the  earpet-like  grass 
spread  wonderful  mosaics  in 
JT.  Just  opposite  is  a  border,  fifty 
t  by  ten,  filled  with  bronze,  straw- 
medj  and  white-leaved  plants.  On 
>fonx6  ground  is  traced  a  Greek 
tern,  in  straw  color,  with  its  zig- 
;  lines  fringed  with  white.  Not 
ipot  is  uncovered.  £a4!h  plant 
ehes  the  next  The  colors  are 
trply  defined ;  and  the  pattern  is 
tiacL    Beyond   it  is  a  ring  fifty 


fest  m  diaaetefv  bttraifig  with  color. 
Ski  MMBe  gntf  cailiednl  wtndov. 
JUaog  ti»e  edge  of  the  path  9x9  aim* 
dsr  nkhem»  of  oolocv  wtodlng  and 
cufiftg  ifwer  ihm  gtusa^  and  tangling 
into  fiMieifni  knots  at  the 
of  the  walk.  Far  away  is  a 
fiul  bloc  liney  enclosing  a  mass  of 
flovefing  skrobs,  s^d  seemutg  to 
buid  the  bloonas  together.  Here  and 
there  are  bofders^  abowing  Tarions 
deriees  and  patterns  in  red,  bhick,  yd* 
lowp  blie,  stfmw,  and  other  colon. 

This  IS  what  b  known  as  ribbon* 
pUnting.  These  designs  are  made 
widi  plants  Inking  colored  foliage. 
As  jet,  wt  hare  not  tried  it  much  in 
this  country.  A  few  rich  men  hate 
planted  samples  of  the  work  ;  but  peo- 
ple generally  think  it  some  mystert- 
ons  art,  not  to  be  grasped  by  the  com* 
mott  mind*  It  is  a  rery  simple  a£^ir, 
and,  if  rightly  used,  a  most  valuable 
addition  to  our  means  of  rural  decor»»  ^ 
tion*  Like  all  artistic  things,  it  has 
its  limit  of  eflectiTeness.  The  pic- 
ture must  hare  its  good  light ;  and  a 
seat  too  near  the  orchestra  is  disagree- 
able. This  ribboo-work  is  best  aeen 
from  a  little  distance.  It  will  not  bear 
clofle  inspection.  Like  fresco  or 
scene^painting*  distance  is  required  to 
bring  out  its  beau^.  To  the  actor, 
the  scenery  is  a  mere  blur  of  coarse 
color.  We  must  get  into  the  middle 
of  the  parquette  to  see  it  This  use 
of  foliage  plants  in  long  lines  or 
masses  is  only  suited  to  large  estates. 
Where  the  house  intrudes  upon  the 
road,  and  the  garden  or  lawn  is  quito 
small,  it  is  useless.  Tliere  is  not  room 
for  the  work  to  express  itself  When 
there  is  fifty  by  fifty  feet  of  clear 
grass,  unobstructed  by  trees  or  shrubs, 
this  ribbon-planting  may  be  tried* 

Concerning  the  preparation  of  the 
ground,  nothing  need  be  said.  It  is 
in  all  the  bookaxi^ii  ^ais&^'imi^.  ^3\^ 


)  the  TOiiticl  border  m  tne  cenM~ 

he  ten  feet  in  diameter.  Have  the 
soil  slightly  raised  in  the  centre,  and 
procure  thirteen  Coleus  verschafeltii. 
It  is  Maj,  and  the  plants  will  be  in 
pots,  and  perhaps  six  incliea  high. 
Take  them  out  of  the  pots,  and  set 
the  tallest  plant  exactly  in  the  centre. 
Then  set  four,  six  inches  from  it  each 
way.  Six  inches  outside  of  these,  set 
the  eight  in  a  ring.  One  foot  out- 
side of  this  clump,  set  a  ring  of  cen- 
taurea  gymnocarpa,  each  a  foot  apart, 
or  twelve  in  the  circle.  One  foot 
outside  of  this,  plant  a  ring  of  forty- 
eight  alt erniuith eras.  Six  inches  out- 
eid  of  this,  plant  anotlier,  with  the 
plants  six  inches  apart.  Six  inches 
outaide  of  this,  set  a  ring  of  sixty 
pyrethrum  aurum.  This  will  require 
a  total  of  one  hundred  and  eighty- 
three  plants.  At  the  usual  wholesale 
rates,  they  will  cost  from  $13  to  $15. 
If  the  lawn  were  twice  as  large,  this 
is  all  it  would  need,  Thia  single 
piece  of  work  will  be  more  effective 
than  many  largo  gardens,  laid  out  in 
the  ordinary  way.  After  it  is  planted, 
it  will  reijuire  little  more  attention. 
A  few  weeds  may  come   up  at  iirst; 


maMiii^  of  siaiilli 

clump  of  fifty  col 
quarter  of  a  mile  i 
row  of  pyrethrum 
apart^  will  produce 
lawn  three  hundr« 
lawn  of  two  acn 
plants  arranged 
sweeping  over  the 
around  the  trees,  \ 
peculiar  and  artist 
danger  in  the  wor 
near  the  spectat 
many  plants.  T 
detailed  is  almost 
place,  and  would  a 
vantage  in  a  lawn 
If  too  near,  the  in 
seen  5  and  the  H| 
confused, 

Wlien  this  styl 
comes  more  generi 
price  of  foliage  pli 
Were  the  growera 
mand^  they  could 
four  or  five  dollj? 
thousand  plants, 
on  a  large  estati 
floral  effect  that  vr 
Hon  from  far  and 


WhfiM  ami  Dag^  im  Mag. 


775 


all  the  mtoes  ;  mad  noplaiti 

cbanxu     If  we  ^ve  llie 

:,  white,  bionxe,  and  manj-eol- 

Te«,  we  most  do  without  tlie 

The  heliotrope  grows  oo  m 

gy  uugracefol  plant,  — ^letther 

nor  sbruhf  and  the    com  liat 

To  bare  cut-flowers,  we  moai 

other  g.itdeQ  aod  other  plantSL 

^ve  cat-^owei9,  we  most  sacnfiee 

of    leaf    and  6[MaelineflB   of 

The  constant  reoKiTal  of  tlio 

800Q  deatroys  the  beaotj  of 

lant 

advice  is,  to  have  a  gaidea  ea- 
1/  for  blooming  plants.  It  maj 
flome  unnoticed  comer,  where 
13  no  regard  to  appearanoea. 
le  plants  in  close  rows,  in  anj 
lost  conrenient  Here  we  can 
way,  and  give  splendid  long 
without  regard  to  the  Aymxattrf 
plant 

ts  are  like  charity.     The  more 
giire^  the  more  they  seem  ready 
Allow  your  heliotrope  flow- 
remain  on  the  plant,  and  it  will 
om  one  small  crop.     Cut  them 
as  they  appear,  and  the  same 
will  bloom  for  years  if  protected 
the  weather.     To  bloom  seems 
tlie  one  deaire  of  the  planted  life, 
it  find   itself    confined   to  an 
irthem  pot,  it  concludes  that  it  has 
I  tlie  soil  there  is  in  the  world,  and 
tries  to  bloom  before  it  dies.     If 
ken  out  of , the  pot,  it  gives  up  bloom-* 
g  for  a  little  while,  till  it  can  grow 
the  larger   space   of  the    garden. 
ooon  as  mature,  it  seeks  to   fulfil 
le  object  of  its  exXsteuce,  and  opens 
blooms  to  the  sun.     If  the  flowers 
pe  removed,  it  send^  out  more.     The 
Lowers  are   cut   again;   and  with  a 
iUod  patience,  it    tries    again    and 
Uain.     Even  an  annual,  that  in  the 
^ooda  IB  content  to  put  out  its  one 
of  flowers,  perfect  its  seed,  aud 


dk^  win  in  s  greenhovso 
yesr  after  yctx^  ao  long  aa  ite 
LetUioJ 
lei  ill*  lo««r  of  the 
en  liara  thnr  svcei  w«ddli^  and 
dies  bappf  and  copfwit 
Tlio  Qmaber  of  phitto  aastable 
At  enUiiiiC  ia  Torj  smaD ;   and 


tke  imiber  of  ftnptxs  tliat  will  keep 
and  beartcaiiaportatioaiaBiiialleratilL 
Booe^  r*T***^^«  and 
Bsko  the  flockt'a  Bain  samBker  atoek^ 
and  ^ej  am  tbo  bcal  for  oidiiiaijr 
flower-wodc.  They  will  kaep  seTeral 
daysy  and  can  ho  sent  two  hnudred 
mOes  witbont  inja^.  For  planting 
for  the  Flower  Hi^aion,  they  are  tho 
best  we  baTe. 

Cha&lss  Babjtaiuk 


We.  select  a  few  more  descriptions 
from  "The  Hevue  Hortioole,''  of 
**  new,  rare,  or  little-known  plants,'* 

Gilia  linijlora. — The  genus  Gilia 
is  represented  in  our  gardens  by  sev- 
eral very  pretty  annual  Tariettes. 
This  one  differs  entirely,  in  habit, 
from  those  already  cultivated.  It 
grows  into  a  very  branching,  thick, 
low  bush.  The  slender  branches  are 
covered  with  thin,  delicate,  green 
leaves,  almost  hidden  by  a  multitude 
of  pure  white  flower»,  with  yellow 
stamens,  as  large  as  the  flowers  of 
Drummond^s  phlox,  or  of  a  large 
flax.  It  is  charming  when  used  for 
a  colored  border,  or  for  forming  con- 
trasts of  color. 

If  the  seeds  are  planted  in  the  fall, 
and  protected  through  the  winter, 
the  plants  will  bloom  by  the  end  of 
spring*  For  summer  floweriog,  they 
can  be  planted  in  spring  in  the  open 
border^  or  under  a  cold  frame. 

Pentistemon  hyhridus  grandiflomSu 
Nothing  can  be  more  beautiful  than 
one  of   these    plants  in  full    bloom. 


776 


HorticuUural 


It  Uooms  in  June,  and  is  ernreied , 
wUk  spikes  of  flowers,  in  shape  and 
fiize  resembling  those  of  the  fox- 
glove. The  colors  range  through 
all  the  ii^termediate  shades,  from 
pare  white  to  a  rich,  deep  red. 

Sedum  speetalnle. — This  is  one  of 
Hke  prettiest  perennial  plants,  and 
^should  be  in  every  garden.''  It  has 
many  virtues.  It  is  very  hardy,  bear- 
ing severe  winters ;  it  is  an  abundant 
bloomer,  and  continues  in  bloom  a 
long  while,  no  matter  what  its  situa- 
tion is ;  and  if  branches  of  it  are  cut 
off  and  brought  into  the  house,  even 
without  being  put  in  water,  they  will 
still  flower  for  a  long  time. 

The  flower-stalks  are  from  twelve 
to  fourteen  inches  long,  and  bear  the 
lilao-«olored  flowers  on  their  en^,  in 
large,  flat  bunches,  in  July,  August, 


,  and  September.  The  plant  is 
multiplied  by  division,  after  floi 
Each  piece  will  form  a  tuft, 
will  be  covered  with  flowers  t 
lowing  year. 

Linum  trigynum  has  Isr] 
numerous  flowers  of  the  most 
fill  yellow  ever  seen,  and  lively 
leaves,  oval  in  shape.  It  Uo 
the  open  air  in  summer;  but 
vseful  as  a  greenhouse  plant,  1 
it  will  bloom  in  the  middle  of 
—  December  and  January.  ^ 
glad  to  call  attention  to  it  i 
excellent  quality,  to  which 
that  of  being  pretty,  and  onu 
and  useful  for  decoration  and 
quets.  Planted  in  the  gxoui 
full  light,  in  a  temperate  gree 
it  will  bloom  all  winter. 


{NoTB.  — The  Index  to  Vol  V.  of  "Old  akb  Kbw"  will  be  printed  with  the  fi 
1S72J  number  of  VoLYL,  in  such  a  numner  that  it  can  readily  be  bound  with  Vol 


INDEX,  VOL.  Y. 


I  of  ]tod«n»  8ocd«t7,  B«t.  T.  I>«  Wiu 

iMWIfttion  frouu  711. 

Mttme  ikod  If«a  Id  Egypt  And  Pftle«lliief 

UrT*  Of  %'trr,  1:4. 
J. 

4f  i«  ii^Mi^  UuUiiU  of  Unirer* 


">n  LnstOTM,  4S4. 


44a.  m,  TO),  T23. 

I»»7  ftod  the  SUmvIoiii  of  Qod, 


llingsof  741, 
,w»rd  6,t  horpital  dlrvdor  dttrlny 


,lt«,filO.«».771i. 


r  HCABT  W.,  iA,  a»4. 

f.ufg-  714. 


rg»  tad  MJm  0U> 


Iwr- 


In?,  107. 

,605. 

u   »nd     the 
'■  UirLi.  251 
rnla  of  »,  /,  ifutV,  767, 

'  TirtUif ,  071>. 
hi  and   Ancient 

jii  ill,  241. 

-  of,  m. 


luslx,  I U',  IL  M,  Sfmmtmt,  7S1 

_  ►  to  Frwic«,"  107. 
•.767. 

jTf  II  1 1  w  r i  t ] ) t IT  o r  .htt4tta,  261. 
ion        '  ^.14,078. 

'  nOM  ofMiM  OUMm  671. 


ChaHiabto  Ia«tltitlloo«  tn  WMblnflObi  WL 

Cblcii^  and  WMtern  Htm,  2,  a&l. 

Olilcago  Flre»  Mn.  M.  A.  Sh&rn,  IT. 

ChiJdren's  Bookf  of  tlie  Tira«,  m, 

ClKMite  mm  a  poet^  470, 

GhrUtian  Faltb  and  Lf fe,  Jaotea  Drtimmoad,  ^ft. 

Oirlitiiiuiitjri  Ltberal,  Work  of.  407. 

Chil«it«ii  Tbeolonr  and  Mudoru  Soefitlciam,  Dak* 

of  3oniera«U  490. 
diri-t,  Th€  Life  of,  fta. 
Ch under  fl4?*i,  67V. 
Cliuniinf ,  Baeketi  SUmmtm,  «0S. 
Orll  3«rvice^  ComniiMloD  on.  2&&, 
Cl^pp,  Mas.  P.  M.,  467. 
Cf.A]lK£.  F,  W„  2i4. 

Cl^AKKE,  JjLMEfl  FREXMAIT,  93, 

Clarke  Jamea  Freeoaau,  ^*  Tea  Great  ReUgima,'' 

I  of.  ft2.  ft3. 
>!«•  atid  Pottery  In  BMtofif  0S2, 

Nf.'k-ni T-  in  N-'W  York.  629. 

/(?Haioobf,38SL 

Cou  J  . »  liberty  of  tbe^  i 

Con;,  3S1. 

Cooi 

Co-op-cru  ivt.'  Uuildtu^,  jUj. 

Cooper*  Mr.  ri»*iJ  IL.  Antiquity  of  Iron,  738 

CoquereL  M .,  in  America,  'i. 

Counsel .  MlA.  M.  A.  Sfloai^T.  600. 

CraJk.  Mn.,  *»Miitre«a  and  Ibid,*'  48d. 

CiiMcitin,  4dl. 

CrxMovGa^  CaARt.E8  A„  4CW. 

Cunimiaga,  Jobo,  School  of  Boleooa  In  BoitOQ. 

7S1 
Curioaitlca  of  Uterataro»  F.  B.  Pertdnt,  bU. 
Oyprni  Marblei  and  PoUeiy  in  Boaton^  082. 

Dall,  Mr,,  Contro«^r»y  Wtw«cD  two  Partlaa  of  Iba 

Brulimo  Churcb^  C81. 
Datik  t.  J  Si  fiT*.  on  Pannonlut,  741, 
IJarri  i-iia,  *»2. 

Dav  .  ^fy 

Day  1  Vincent,  Saperior  AmlquHy  of 

I  run  lo  Bruure,  7fl7. 
"Debatable  Land  between  tlila  World  and   tiM 

IfexW"  IV>b«n  Dole  Owon.  100. 
Deedt  Ver»ut  CTfed-t,  Annie  L.  Jtfuaaiey,  227. 
De  Verfr'a  **  *\merlcani§ms."  104. 
Dewet,  Ortillb,  D  D.,  177, 

DODO£,  Mrh.  Makt  B.  176. 

D{SlUnger.  Gratry,  and  Hyadntbe,  S77. 

Dreadea  Madonna,  491, 

Drufnmoud^a  gennooa,  *"  Cbrtatlan  Faith  and  LUk? 

624. 
Disbar,  C,  F..  SU. 
Dt;RiVAGE,  Frakcw  a.,  480. 

E.,  2H. 

Earth,  The,  E11»6«  Boclui,  103. 

EccleaUfftea,  Dr.  Gratilx^i  KxamlQatlon  of,  700. 

£i>o£s,TOSf.  Wild,  U. 

fidueation  BiU,  383. 

Bdueatfon  in  Oonfraaa,  Oeorae  F,  Hoatf  tn, 

BdnealioQ  In  the  South.  2&&^  llO. 

Kfyptian  Antiquities.  7S7. 

Ellis,  O  RACK  A,  «W. 

EmtTiHin'ft  "  Itliijdora,"  481. 

EDffland  Id  ISTl,  a 

Bp&copal  Body,  Broad  Choreb  of  Iht,  tfS8. 

Ktlquett^  in  CXiograia,  881. 

777 


I 
I 


778 


Index. 


Ewald^i  CocDineotjiay  on  the  " 

740. 

Kwmld'i  HUtory  of  I«r»rl,  36rt,  flifi. 
££ttmis«r,  01,  m,  8M,  481,  007»  730. 

Fueiebftt,  tlenrtf  Aifbe^,  n\. 

Fnv.  Hon.  F.  B,.  lu  Uio  Array  of  ibe  Potom«c,  4£a. 

y  " 

I  1 1», "  The  To'Oiorroiv  af  d«mIi,"  ara* 

I  n,  iQ^ttSO, 

'    r'.b«m  Pftperi  regarding,  SfMI. 


Hymn  af  Oleutthf«i  Ed»ttir4^  RmAw,_p  ^| 

Uynm  of  Ctis«n  thm, , 


1,0  H.,  i*r 

] 

r 

III 

Jr 
I, 

IiAiy,  I.  rnty  ^r,  j, 


I 


'rVtr»5*m/»ti*«,  ftOT, 


WKfof,  3, 
i  .  u,t  FrcUejrick' 

ti*wri,  1 -n  , 
Froni:h  Anmi,  Diifti*»ion  on.  510, 
Ttr-ryrh.  (^^^niiun,  8rni,nUh,  LaUq,  iind  tUUau  with* 

rkdrlch.  The  U»t  D<«pftt«h,  lOT* 
J  iiof,  053. 

|rurne»H,  iloraoe  U.,  Letter  fruin,  ftbout  MIm  (ill- 
toil,  4113. 

GxiniETT,  Wll^LlAM  C,  90. 

0*nk'nii>u  for  BcHuly  and  for  Ubo*  773. 

OardiM*i-.r  in  tlirHty.  613. 

Qau  '  irou  John  W*  Chntiwickf^. 

Oetir  I  "tin  and  lU  tli4tory,  Mid  Life  of 

<  - .    '  ;;.  415. 

(  I,  Till. 

\Ut  Francis  Tilfuny,  119. 
f.3. 

Qitijuu  •*  ];,  k,  Kftihertne  Saundera,  4S8. 

6U»on,  n>  lull  L.^  j.i  MomodAl,  ATrc.  /**  if.  Clo^ji, 

467.  ftflo. 
OlrAfdin,  Etnllo  de,  "*  Da  Dro!l  de  Punlr,"  74fi, 


J,  MM,  475, 

JiitnU  of  a^rtiii,  *'T1te  Fluv     ,:  .i 
J9ii*n.  auil  the  Jsnooc***  l.^n^>h•'^ ,  : 

:n 

J.   !■■  ■         '• '       "  - 

^1' 


r  Ufc<' 


-.it 


•  Duid^Boolc  of  tte  Ti%^^ 


Knulen,  Dr.  Frstis, 

741. 
Kxppeli  Cofnmo«lor«,  I>cl;i«r  oC,  I4L 

KoEHi.itft«  d.  H..  &03. 


L&bor  Qu««Uoq  glity  Tcajv  ik^t^  4 

'^ Labor  f^fonuora,*'  TM. 

LadiM*  OoaunlMdon  on  Sand^y^^dkotl  iooliL 

LMto  Qnmmmr  fbr  B<«SnJi*»,  W.  II*  W« 

1,1  .'.►. 

L_ibrii\jii  li-hgi'Jij  in  Afuerfca,  ttT. 


i,'t>r,  377. 
'  at  Jeaa,  T43. 
f  Jotkuii,  7M. 


I.i 


4^1 


OrnetJu  Dr.,  OriUcnl  ExAmlanlloti  of  Ecclcaliiiifte«|     LifMoti'ti  BttnipUio  L#etili 


7»9. 
Grant  and  ^v 
Oralry.  Hy 

Grimm.  Ed 

GaiflWOLD,   I! 

Gut^rin,  M  ,  In- 


Hale,  diarlcii.  Appofntmimt  «>f,  9Aft. 


Hftvid'wriH 
IlA?raAH,  ' 


m,  Jm,  4M,  SM. 

I  Uie  £u«rll«b  Weavers.  413 

.  on.  Novalla*  735. 

-  ypilAD  Aiitlqultiea,  757. 

dchool  Idea,"  7M. 


i«  l>i" 
107 


..f  Jli«:onr  of  Aad«Bl  _ 

Traifottr.  M, 

In  009  huiiilf«4  mtti  ^it^  CH 

!>  WiMlftw^ortli.  l» 


HwuijU  1^1%  Ivriai,  D«fu»c«  of  tho  FlDnr  KTaogellAU, 
740 

?Ap«r 
nantlKho  Sobale,  7:V). 


Mr,  Ueocni  PAp«r  by,  23J. 


,  Toil  Yoo  Looe,  Piittr  FtimUia$,  909. 


in  R.> 


MiUlnm,  730. 
I   ,73M, 
I    mIiUi,  T40. 


T^w,  ItAbbl,  JetrUb  Tbculogy,  142. 

Ltitbttr^n  llftt  at  Jvnm,  T4i. 

M^oPovun   Orn|,r,ir,  St,  1  !;.V  m.  OI.  at, < 

M  *vj. 


J --- 

iiwu^nii- 
HI*Ujry  of 


Mi*rbl«»<i  a»4  PoiLi^ry  from  Cyprnt,  te 

M  It'  Ti  niti.riiotc.  Jf*kn  llurrxm^,m 


M)n»of  pAatLlfie,400. 

of  Writing,  18&,  188. 

IW. 


/BmImC 


li^MtluUi«»  UikiUy,  a;u4BuVUu«ui,^Tl* 


■»n4  n4i7«  In*  C^k<«H«i 

It.  t.>n.-«iioM  of  JO 


Index. 


779 


.  c  4m. 

Bquiu.  Poatry.  475. 

c»^.  41T. 

rureThePtaHW  of.  Ms. 

lit  Short  uf  L/Akir  baperiar.  4K. 

u  ^lud.  Mn.  Crmlk.  4«. 

rMHb  Nii^k.  J?.  W.  Bmamm.  4B. 

.:iiii|:  C(anpwi\.-4a6. 

•v>t«t  fur  tiTDWC  JFialtu.^  -iii. 

^.  A  A  Ji..  «yc. 

r.  In-   M   J^  Eakagr  of  Abte  of 


v-ii>  £..  Public  and  Fwior  Bfladiapk,4B0 
jfioi;  L..  2S:. 

CvJiifereuet..''  IflB. 

kf  jr..  47-0 

>r  111  tilt  bnnth.  *6 

loT.  Pulnunpof  FuoabontJM.  6QC. 

Ai^   LamirU  A   P*dtaTtl.Z:\i.         « 
'  irinit-  tZi  Adminictratioi.  iii.ll. 

TklviruDolhiiu  Ma«eaiii  of  An.  (t£b. 
W    fci..  ricau  LrttOTW.  791 
Car.  *  Ci>lit?et«^  Trtatii***.'' 74C. 
fraiiz.  *■  uuUutt:  of   CaruUaL  I>og- 

iHt..-   .''741 

:   ALiKUUiCtaren  zz*.  Eugemii.  Laci*,fU* 

n".rx.  LiuriKL.   4C 

.   Eiottnuii*.  7ij» 

//}'  Uf  ;><aa»t  of  Fxiednek  ran.  Hanin*- 

["tnt..  <7ilrris«iHr  G.  Bottetti    Ifc  2ie 

■V-  Lditona..  I    I2L'  :io..  St.  ol-.  i'l: 
uar  MjfMt*fr>  A.tis2r^!mif  u.  May.  C    T.  L  . 

-   CwUectioi.  ol  u.  Stit  Tote  flCfc 

77'r    Tkt:    OUrtr  WemdeL  Haimei.  G. 

I..Kk£-.   K*-..  4eib  ^S; 

oaMoi*    La.t<.  u«tw«eT   tiUA  Worid  anc 
x;    T   6    Appui^vb.  Iv.. 

^•.    Tv: 

'  uru,u-.    ifMtgQ:  'o\  Mr    IUcl  Ljt  Qar- 

■Ai-w.    VT. 

I«ir-. .  n  Litjra':-  o  "  Pres .  bjiarks .  231 

.1  ■:;:  f«-:ivtf«:-:T.  T41 
..:-»:; IT'  L.  2if. 

ri--;u£iiiue    "  To^  xxmiui*.  auci  tiH:  Fi- 
ji I  l;.v-  :?•- 
ii'.-nti*  r:   iiaoquoid.  4A;- 

.!■.(-  i>- 

:ui>-  or'  Ntit  Imgianc,  37S. 
I...  **i 

.-.':.   <Jio. 

:   •   '>  •    il.i«t«ft  IT.  N*sw  Tvrt;.  «L-. 
J..-.     fTf*'    Lnu^rrujn,.   71 

/'.<::    JIurti4*t^jii.    94'. 

.     .       .!'...&'■'•• -^M.-iii'.  LjbiiWM'    aij'l  tiH- 

•        :     tr-...     :*, 

.;  .:j    L.   ^Ji<«a*i-  of  Uleof  OwaXuciu%. 

L*^:  'jrvi  or.  LuUtrtm.  JLabuiH!  741:. 

!.!►*  v](i      -.   27.- 
'     (■    ..     '*-- 

»-i.       V  . ..   Conta-.4«r. 
(.'  .'-'T-.n-j.  2:11. 


(^aaUi,  Oallfanifta.  T«. 


.  Paprnv  of,  737. 
Jiammoinni  ItoY.  6Tb. 
Krariinp  withont  T«Bn.  48B. 
UecliH  £iM«-..  TiK  KartL.  103. 
ItetaoUeeUom*  of  Pact  Lift:,  fiir  Henrv  HoUaad.  JH) 
Ueronl  of  Pruin-tMt>.  lUb.  231.  X:;.  Mu.  Ml,  7S1. 
Ue«d'i-  *'  Uo«piui   Ufc.*'  AO:.  Mi. 
ILeligiour  Uif  o'  .imenea.  2.«.. 
HemiOMeeuee^  o*" !  root  Farm.  SIT. 
Ueuchlii. .  Job  t. .  i.  .    of.  74w. 
Itemuoa;.  Aiireu  van.  *'  1^>  linmawo  Poatifiae,'* 

**Ii«!Tu*  Hortieot*:."  Trazulatioti  from.  8So.  77&. 
UtezunL  Auitc.Blone  impiemeDfa!^  fisiuid  ic  IheTpi. 

7ie 
Oicuania.  Km-,  (rrteonre.  Poemt.  hy.  23!L 
Uicnter.  Rar..  Ik«asuoii  ii.  oeiiuoy-  in  irennany  .T4L 
Kifi-rr,  «?•  «?-?iiu:ti 

UOBEBT^    UEVXOEXD.  2Ub.    

li->lft'>  t?aa&«p«iuvV  n^nry  Vm..  4B0. 

UoQiai  '.'nurn..  Conv«nH  a*,  a:  Bruoik  Sanu.  SXL 

lu>tm*i.  Cxiuru.  aud  uur  Pubik-  behook.  d9&. 

UO^^ETTI.  ClIBiHTlNA  (.t..  Iflb.  27&. 

iluoaiTat.  of  Omar  Khajytm,  Joita  IT.  Cknthmci', 

Ql\. 

bandf-jnl  ain'.   Kertox..  Exuact  from,  emiacintng 

l>ri.    itKTK  -  I>eltaa:.  14:;. 
f^  lai.a-.'  ■  s .  Mia     N«w  Hoirtkk,  4Sb. 

trcii-.^i.  hi-'itie.  Ucoen*...  <I2T. 

."r>v-jjo«»>i  o*  btiruc.  Leetiirfr  beforb.  "flSl. 

eenuit*.    I^r.  .ion:.  Fraiici-  UlUer  Ton.  an  ConneUtf. 

llli-'-Jlt-.     liUK^    l'<Jptf9.  741 

ftK  Ifii-.M:  ai:c  OAcrilii^;.  f/rr*/<'  Dmrtjf.  D.T).,  ITT. 

n::vLi..i"«f'ji.  ALiUK  BLoa^El .  laST. 

b^waif-    ■  *-  nf  6i; 

>^waru.  llr..  ar  fa  Poet.  47v. 

b«XLU  Dvicnitv. .  T^KMia.  J/Mkon.  170. 

buaicrpear^.  iiiuuoit-  Lift   o.:  titTh-  of  Wrltiog. 

exta&'pean'V  Eiuj:  Henry  VUL.  WUbani  I.  Eolfe. 

4^. 
fc..  H  G..7eE; 
bif'MiEvJIl   <\..   TT.adL'. 
fc:.wr  1^»-.'*.  Uim;.  i;    C  JfiWiM.  43&. 
^;llilf «»."«»-    II   Ji..  7& 
ei2  o!  <;:»*   iiy  Half  a  iKnezj  of  tlk-  Other.  £.  SQC. 

MC.44:.r,7v.  7«)1 
Kroiti..  l;-\    \V  C.    PUiari.  ir  tht  Tempk  iOQ. 
b%K\s  »?ckrne»-  aii<T  Politica.  Ecouooiy,  611. 

fc^JCla  &ci«-D«. .  Tif  ?■  unci?!.'!,  of.  i^ 
buuier««:.  liujc-   of.  CaristxaL  Tiaaolugy  and  Mod- 
en  (*f«pticiMU.  4Wf. 
to:i'4.  ii^V 

boriiittT .  JoAr  W  TA/idiCfci:..  C7S. 
buatiHrn:  Eiucatioi..  25>: 
hoalUKTT  Womfi  ii   Literatare.  OC. 
bpark?.  Prv«i«irn:.  Library-  otfSSb. 
6pt»uur>  ir.  a  Wuerry.  Mark  Sibitg  SemrmmetyX:. 
SifTioe  Woodft.  5a.'. 
6itvt\Mii%.  Hackett.  flK. 

e:  Pf  I  T  -  rio*^:  l>unupHoiy  Wnak,  C.  T,B^m. 
bUMCOUiK:i'>u«ii«ae.  C7^. 
buiiday-bcuoo:  lutia.  Hsru  J.  6..  S..  7W. 

Taiu^V  Eujrii'K  Literatare.  Sfitf. 

'laiu*--  tiitfiii"!.  1  raTeie.  3ay. 

Tainuur^'r  Auocnmatiuue-  of  Mod<!Tzi  BoQety,-1BB. 

Ttraeb«TF   t?cii*;Mj.  of  bck-iit^..  if.  t.  S.,  763.* 

let.  (rrva:  L-eiurioub .  Jamec  Frecmazi  Clarka, SK. 

T:if<M.jjc:    <Tvrmai..  U«cen:  Works  in.  TSw. 

1  irt.Of^     ^lt.\5K.•il^.  73i. 

1  t»-iuf/rruw  yf  l>eatL.  372. 

Tiwiiorf^if*    J/r«    lftfr|/  7..  JJoUgft,  TTC. 

Ireaty  of  W»#mu«:toL.  311. 

TLTtLe.  HJ^BJSKKT.  75i'. 

1'wi#titrcu'  ui- tt>*  Haiio-wiitiot;  of  Jimim,  ML 
Twt>  Cuaraettfr*.  T.  G.  A.,  412. 


larur-Lrewduigfe.liewWl^.Miutnfef^K.     UaeuaThmaaMM,  676. 


780 


Index* 


Undenrood.  F.  H.,  Hand-book  of  SngUth  litenk 

tare.  729. 
Union,  Obriitlan,  Boston  Young  Men's,  261. 
Unions  for  Christian  Work.  180, 878. 
Unitarian  Association,  American,  Bsaaya  to  be 

published  by,  645. 
Unltarianlsm  the  Crusade  for  Beliglous  Liberty, 

408. 
"  United  Sutes  of  Europe,''  8. 
Unity  of  the  Church,  803. 
Ups  and  Downs,  Edward  B,  HaU,  80, 822, 408, 602. 

Venable's  Poems,  027. 

Vicar's  Daughter,  Qeorgt  MacDonaUt^  81, 118, 201, 

418.  684.  001. 
Victor  Nehllg,  608. 

Virginia,  New,  Edward  A.  Pollard,  270. 
Virginia,  Schools  of,  610. 

Waddell's  Latin  Grammar,  827. 

Wagner  Festival  in  lAerWn,  Albert  E.  ParjN>fW,243. 

Walpurgls  Night,  Miss  Constance  F.  IToolcon,  01. 

Wanted,  A  Domestic,  Afary,  750. 

Washington  and  Grant,  Oeorae  liaUey  Loring^fSSl, 

Washington's  Agricultural  Lettoni,  Oeorae  Han- 

n/iA,  224. 
Washington.  Charitable  Institutions  in.  883. 
Washington  Correspondence,  265,  380,  610. 
Washington's  Expression  of  Countonanee,  Eieh- 

ard  S.  Oreenaughy  221. 
Washington,  ManicrpAl  Contest  in,  880. 
Washington,  Popular  Knowledge  of,  120. 
Washlngtonlan  roetry,  Contemporary,  232. 
Washington,  Private  Letters  of;  181. 
Washington  the  General,  ^andt  J.  JAjppUt,  100. 


Washington,  The  Standard  Likeness  of.  SI 
Washington,  UnpubUsbed  Writings  of,  123b 
Webster  as  a  Poet.  479. 
Wedded  to  Fate,  Eeveremd  EoberU,  9», 

WEEDElf,  WIUXA.M  B.,  474. 

Welss's  Life  of  Parker,  742. 

Werner,  Pastor  August,  Herder's  Place  s*  sTh» 

logian.  742. 
Where  Earth  and  Eleaven  Meet,  E.  S.  t^  iTL 
Whitman's,  Walt.  Poetry,  477. 
Whitney's,  BCrs.,  Novels,  Review  of,  40. 
Wild-flowers  of  Spring.  680. 
WiUiam  and  Mary's  CoUege,  RebnUding  of.  510. 
WiLUAMs.  John,  024. 
Williams,  J.  B.,  224,  243. 
Williams,  Miss.  The  Lost  Despatch,  107. 
Winckelmann's  History  of  Ancient  Art  Grix  i 

£<U«,883. 
Wlnsor,  Mr.,  Catalogue  of  Books  of  Hlstoricsl  F.e- 

tlon.  143. 
Wolf,  Adam,  Destruction  of  Austrian  Qolitcn, 

J42. 
Woman's  Commission,  The,  3A5. 
WooLsoif.  Mum  CoitsTAifCB  F.,  61. 
Working-men.  Intomational  ^Vseociatlon  of.  :u. 
Working-men's  Flower-Shows,  Charles  Barnari 

607. 
Works  and  Days  in  May,  772. 

Tear  1871  In  History.  1,  8. 

Yosemlto  Valley.  767. 

Young  Men's  Christian  Union,  Boston,  251. 

Zachos's,  Prof..  Reading-book  for  Child  ren.  4». 
Zelner,  Oscar,  Circular  Letter  to  Jew*.  744. 
Zoeokler  Dr.  O.  German  Theoloov  742. 


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