target
stringclasses 6
values | question
stringclasses 4
values | input
stringlengths 3.19k
18.9k
|
|---|---|---|
garden | Where is Daniel? | |
+----------------+
and on the other
+-------+
| 1502.|
+-------+
A considerable period elapses between this and the next dated example, a
plate, with the subject of Horatius Codes, inscribed,--
_Orazio solo contro Toscana tutta._
_Fatto in Pesaro.1541._
On another (a companion of a plate preserved in the Louvre),
_l Pianetto di Marte_
_fatto in Pesaro 1542_
_in bottega da Mastro Gironimo Vasaro.I.P._
He further mentions a plate having a mark consisting of the initials O A
connected by a cross, and a bas-relief with the same initials which
again occur sculptured over a door, which he suggests may have been that
of the potter’s house; we should, however, be more disposed to regard it
as a conventual or cathedral monogram.We will now leave the work of Passeri and quote another record of the
pottery made at Pesaro a short time before the 16th century, returning
to him for information on the revival of the art at that locality in the
last.Dennistoun in his history of the dukes of Urbino (vol.388)
refers to a letter among the diplomatic archives of the duchy preserved
at Florence dated 1474, from pope Sextus IV.in which he thanks Costanzo
Sforza, lord of Pesaro, for a present of
[Illustration]
most elegantly wrought earthen vases which for the donor’s sake are
prized as much as gold or silver instead of earthenware.Another letter
from Lorenzo the magnificent to Roberto Malatesta of Pesaro, thanking
him for a similar present, says, “they please me entirely by their
perfection and rarity, being quite novelties in these parts, and are
valued more than if of silver, the donor’s arms serving daily to recall
their origin.” There is every reason for assuming that both these
presents consisted of wares produced at the Pesaro furnaces.These wares must have been looked upon as “novelties” at Florence, not
simply because they were painted on flat surfaces covered with
stanniferous glaze (for Luca della Robbia had done this many years
before) but because, being decorated with rich metallic glaze and
madreperla lustre, they probably were novelties to the Florentines as
productions of an Italian pottery.If this inference be correct, may not
another be drawn from it?That these presents being the produce of
Pesaro, and enriched with the metallic lustre, we may derive from the
whole matter an additional proof that the early lustred pieces, whose
origin has been disputed, were really made at that city; and that we may
agree with Passeri in ascribing the well-known “bacili” to that place.107 is a fine lustred _bacile_ at South Kensington, probably
of Pesaro ware, and about the year 1510.The earliest dated Pesaro piece is in the possession of the writer.It
is a “_fruttiera_” which is painted the creation of animals by the
Almighty, Who, moving in the midst, is surrounded by animals rising out
of the ground; a distant landscape, with a town (!)on the side of a
steep mountain, forms the background.On the reverse is inscribed as in the woodcut on the next page,
1540._Chrianite anim_
_allis Christtus_
_fatto in Pesaro._
We have seen some large dishes decorated with raised masks, strapwork,
&c. and painted with grotesques on a white ground, and subject panels,
and other grandiose pieces which are ascribed to the Urbino artists, but
which may in equal likelihood be attributed to the Lanfranchi of Pesaro.Hope has the character
of their finest productions.[Illustration]
The art at Pesaro rapidly declined after 1560, wanting the encouragement
of a reigning ducal court; and Passeri ascribes much evil influence to
what he considers the bad taste of preferring the unmeaning designs of
the oriental porcelain, which was greatly prized by the wealthy, and the
painting after the prints of the later German school of Sadeler, &c. to
the grander works of the old masters; the landscapes were, however, well
executed.He gives us also a history of the revival of the manufacture
in his own time, under the influence and encouragement of the cardinal
prelate Ludovico Merlini.In 1718 there was only one potter at Pesaro,
Alfonzo Marzi, who produced the most ordinary wares.In 1757 signor
Giuseppe Bertolucci, an accomplished ceramist of Urbania, in conjunction
with signor Francesco di Fattori, engaged workmen and artists and
commenced a fabrique, but it was soon abandoned.Again in 1763 signors
Antonio Casali and Filippo Antonio Caligari, both of Lodi, came to
Pesaro and were joined by Pietro Lei da Sassuolo of Modena, an able
painter on Maiolica; they established a fabrique producing wares of
great excellence hardly to be distinguished from the Chinese.In the
Debruge-Labarte collection was a one-handled jug or pot, painted with
flowers in white medallions on a blue ground, and on the foot engraven
in the paste--
“Pesaro 1771.”
A manufacture at present exists of painted tiles for pavement, removed
to Pesaro from Urbania, and which at one time produced vases and plates
in the manner of the Urbino istoriati pieces as also lustred wares after
the style of M. Giorgio.It has, we are informed, ceased making these
imitations and now confines itself to the first-named class of goods.GUBBIO AND CASTEL DURANTE.Although probably not among the earliest manufactories or _boteghe_ of
Italian enamelled and painted wares, GUBBIO undoubtedly holds one of the
most prominent positions in the history and development of the potter’s
art in the 16th century.This small town, seated on the eastern <DW72> of
the Apennines, was then incorporated in the territory of the dukes of
Urbino under whose influence and enlightened patronage the artist
potters of the duchy received the greatest encouragement; and were thus
enabled to produce the beautiful works of which so many examples have
descended to us.Chiefly under the direction of one man, it would seem
that the produce of the Gubbio furnaces was for the most part of a
special nature; namely, a decoration of the pieces with the lustre
pigments, producing those brilliant metallic ruby, golden, and
opalescent tints which vary in every piece, and which assume almost
every colour of the rainbow as they reflect the light directed at
varying angles upon their surface.112) represents a
vase of great interest and beauty; no.It is early in date; probably about 1500.The admirable way
in which the moulded ornament is arranged to show the full effect of the
lustre, and the bold yet harmonious design are worthy of observation.That the Gubbio ware was of a special nature, and produced only at a few
fabriques almost exclusively devoted to that class of decoration, is to
be reasonably inferred from Piccolpasso’s statement; who speaking of
the application of the maiolica pigments says, “_Non ch’io ne abbia mai
fatto ne men veduto fare._” He was the maestro of an important botega at
Castel Durante, one of the largest and most productive of the Umbrian
manufactories, within a few miles also
[Illustration]
of those of Urbino, with which he must have been intimately acquainted
and in frequent correspondence.That he, in the middle of the 16th
century, when all these works were at the highest period of their
development, should be able to state that he had not only never applied
or even witnessed the process of application of these lustrous
enrichments is, we think, a convincing proof that they were never
adopted at either of those seats of the manufacture of enamelled
pottery.Daniel travelled to the kitchen.Although much modified and improved, lustre colours were not
invented by Italian artists, but were derived from the potters of the
east, probably from the Moors of Sicily, of Spain, or of Majorca.Hence
(we once more repeat) the name “Majolica” was originally applied only to
wares having the lustre enrichment; but since the decline of the
manufacture, the term has been more generally given: all varieties of
Italian enamelled pottery being usually, though wrongly, known as
“Maiolica.”
[Illustration]
The Gubbio fabrique was in full work previous to 1518; and the
brilliantly lustred dish, which we engrave, now at South Kensington is
before that date.That some of these early _bacili_ so well known and
apparently the work of one artist were made at Pesaro, whence the secret
and probably the artist passed to Gubbio, is far from improbable.The
reason for this emigration is not known, but it may be surmised that the
large quantity of broom and other brush-wood, necessary for the
reducing process of the reverberatory furnace in which this lustre was
produced, might have been more abundantly supplied by the hills of
Gubbio than in the vicinity of the larger city on the coast.That the
process of producing these metallic effects was costly, we gather from
Piccolpasso’s statement that sometimes not more than six pieces out of a
hundred succeeded in the firing.The fame of the Gubbio wares is associated almost entirely with one
name, that of Giorgio Andreoli.We learn from the marchese Brancaleoni
that this artist was the son of Pietro, of a “Castello” called “Judeo,”
in the diocese of Pavia; and that, accompanied by his brother Salimbene,
he went to Gubbio in the second half of the 15th century.He appears to
have left and again returned thither in 1492, accompanied by his younger
brother Giovanni.They were enrolled as citizens on the 23rd May 1498,
on pain of forfeiting 500 ducats if they left the city in which they
engaged to continue practising their ceramic art.Patronised by the
dukes of Urbino, Giorgio was made “castellano” of Gubbio.Passeri states
that the family was noble in Pavia.It is not known why or when he was
created a “Maestro,” a title prized even more than nobility, but it is
to be presumed that it took place at the time of his enrolment as a
citizen; his name with the title “Maestro” first appearing on a document
dated that same year, 1498.Piccolpasso states that Maiolica painters
were considered noble by profession.The family of Andreoli and the
“Casa” still exist in Gubbio, and it was asserted by his descendant
Girolamo Andreoli, who died some 40 years since, that political motives
induced their emigration from Pavia.Maestro Giorgio was an artist by profession, not only as a draughtsman
but as a modeller, and being familiar with the enamelled terra cottas of
Luca della Robbia is said to have executed with his own hands and in
their manner large altar-pieces.We were once disposed to think that
great confusion existed in respect to these altar-pieces in rilievo,
and were inclined to the belief that although some of the smaller
lustred works may have been modelled by Giorgio the larger altar-pieces
were really only imported by him.Judging from the most important which
we have been able to examine, the “Madonna del Rosario” portions of
which are in the museum at Frankfort-on-the-Maine, it seemed to approach
more nearly to the work of some member of the Della Robbia family.This
fine work is in part glazed, and in part in distemper on the
unglazed terra cotta, in which respect it precisely agrees with works
known to have been executed by Andrea della Robbia assisted by his sons.There are no signs of the application of the lustre colours to any
portion of the work, but this might be accounted for by the great risk
of failure in the firing, particularly to pieces of such large size and
in high relief.Be this as it may, from a further consideration of the
style of this work and the record of others, some of which are
heightened with the lustre colours, and the fact stated by the marchese
Brancaleoni that a receipt for an altar-piece is still preserved in the
archives of Gubbio, we are inclined to think that history must be
correct in attributing these important works in ceramic sculpture to Mº
Giorgio Andreoli.If they were his unassisted work, he deserves as high
a place among the modellers of his period as he is acknowledged to have
among artistic potters.To go back twelve years in the history of the products of this fabrique,
we have in the South Kensington museum a very interesting example of a
work in rilievo, no.2601, a figure of S. Sebastian, lustred with the
gold and ruby pigments, and dated 1501.Notwithstanding its inferiority
of modelling when compared with later works, we are in little doubt that
this is by Mº Giorgio’s own hand, agreeing as it does in the manner of
its painted outline and shading with the treatment of subjects on the
earlier dishes, believed to be by him.We must also bear in mind that an
interval of twelve years had elapsed between this comparatively crude
work, and that beautiful altar-piece whose
[Illustration]
excellence causes us some doubt in ascribing it to his unaided hand; and
we may observe at the same time an equal difference in the merit of his
own painted pieces.The small bowl here engraved is of about this
period, and is characteristic of a style of ornament commonly found upon
Gubbio ware.This is now at
[Illustration]
South Kensington.8906; well worth the
attention of a student, as exhibiting the full power
[Illustration]
attainable by the introduction of the lustre tints.The yellow has a
full rich golden tone, and the ruby a pure vivid red.Passeri states that Giorgio brought the secret of the ruby lustre with
him from Pavia, and M. Jacquemart infers that he must have produced
works at Pavia before going to Gubbio; but we are inclined to think with
Mr.Daniel journeyed to the garden.Robinson that it was from an artist previously working at Gubbio
that he acquired the art and the monopoly of the ruby tint; and it is by
no means improbable that this artist, or his predecessor, may have
emigrated from Pesaro as stated above.Robinson after the careful study of a vast number of examples
of the Gubbio and other works are endorsed by the writer, who, having
contributed some few of the facts upon which those conclusions were
based, has himself examined the contents of the principal European
collections.Those conclusions are:--
1st.That maestro Giorgio did not invent the ruby lustre, but
succeeded to and monopolized the use of a pigment, used by an
earlier artist of Gubbio.That the signed works were really painted by several distinct
hands.That his own work may be distinguished with approximate
certainty.That probably nearly all the “istoriati” pieces (1530-50) of
Urbino, Castel Durante, or other fabriques, enriched with lustre,
were so decorated by a subsequent operation at the Giorgio botega;
and,
5th.Consequently, the use of lustre colours was mainly confined to
Gubbio, where painted wares by Xanto and other artists working at
Urbino and other places, were sent to be lustred. |
garden | Where is Daniel? | Before entering upon the subject of maestro Giorgio’s own works it will
be necessary to glance at the earlier productions of his predecessors
and probable instructors.In the absence of more positive evidence of
the manufacture of early lustred wares at Pesaro, and with a view to
keeping all the lustred wares together as much as possible, we have
thought it more convenient to include in the large catalogue those
pieces which may probably have been made at that city among the lustred
wares of Gubbio, always affixing to each such piece the name of Pesaro
and of Gubbio with a (?And in
order to facilitate the methodical study of the rise and development of
the art at Gubbio we have classified the lustred wares in the following
manner, and in probable sequence of date:--
A. Works ascribed to Pesaro (or Gubbio?), the typical “bacili”
referred to by Passeri, &c.
B. Works believed of the early master who preceded Mº Giorgio at
Gubbio.C. Works ascribed to maestro Giorgio’s own hand.D. Works of the fabrique, and pieces painted by unknown artists,
though bearing the initials of the master.E. Works by the artist signing N. and by his assistants.F. Works painted by other artists at other fabriques, and
subsequently lustred at Gubbio.G. Works of Mº Prestino, and of the later period.Of the first class A. are those early “mezza-maiolica” dishes having a
lustre of a peculiar pearly effect: these are frequently painted with
portraits and armorial bearings, and have by many writers been ascribed
to the Diruta potteries.And the empty other half of the sky
Seemed in its silence as if it knew
What, any moment, might look through
A chance gap in that fortress massy:--
Through its fissures you got hints
Of the flying moon, by the shifting tints,
Now, a dull lion-colour, now, brassy
Burning to yellow, and whitest yellow,
Like furnace-smoke just ere flames bellow,
All a-simmer with intense strain
To let her through,--then blank again,
At the hope of her appearance failing.Just by the chapel, a break in the railing
Shows a narrow path directly across;
'Tis ever dry walking there, on the moss--
Besides, you go gently all the way uphill.I stooped under and soon felt better;
My head grew lighter, my limbs more supple,
As I walked on, glad to have slipt the fetter.My mind was full of the scene I had left,
That placid flock, that pastor vociferant,
--How this outside was pure and different!The sermon, now--what a mingled weft
Of good and ill!Were either less,
Its fellow had the whole distinctly;
But alas for the excellent earnestness,
And the truths, quite true if stated succinctly,
But as surely false, in their quaint presentment,
However to pastor and flock's contentment!Say rather, such truths looked false to your eyes,
With his provings and parallels twisted and twined,
Till how could you know them, grown double their size
In the natural fog of the good man's mind,
Like yonder spots of our roadside lamps,
Haloed about with the common's damps?Truth remains true, the fault's in the prover;
The zeal was good, and the aspiration;
And yet, and yet, yet, fifty times over,
Pharaoh received no demonstration,
By his Baker's dream of Basket Three,
Of the doctrine of the Trinity,--
Although, as our preacher thus embellished it,
Apparently his hearers relished it
With so unfeigned a gust--who knows if
They did not prefer our friend to Joseph?But so it is everywhere, one way with all of them!These people have really felt, no doubt,
A something, the motion they style the Call of them;
And this is their method of bringing about,
By a mechanism of words and tones,
(So many texts in so many groans)
A sort of reviving and reproducing,
More or less perfectly, (who can tell?)The mood itself, which strengthens by using;
And how that happens, I understand well.A tune was born in my head last week,
Out of the thump-thump and shriek-shriek
Of the train, as I came by it, up from Manchester;
And when, next week, I take it back again,
My head will sing to the engine's clack again,
While it only makes my neighbour's haunches stir,
--Finding no dormant musical sprout
In him, as in me, to be jolted out.'Tis the taught already that profits by teaching;
He gets no more from the railway's preaching
Than, from this preacher who does the rail's office, I:
Whom therefore the flock cast a jealous eye on.Still, why paint over their door "Mount Zion,"
To which all flesh shall come, saith the prophecy?V
But wherefore be harsh on a single case?After how many modes, this Christmas Eve,
Does the self-same weary thing take place?The same endeavour to make you believe,
And with much the same effect, no more:
Each method abundantly convincing,
As I say, to those convinced before,
But scarce to be swallowed without wincing
By the not-as-yet-convinced.For me,
I have my own church equally:
And in this church my faith sprang first!(I said, as I reached the rising ground,
And the wind began again, with a burst
Of rain in my face, and a glad rebound
From the heart beneath, as if, God speeding me,
I entered his church-door, nature leading me)
--In youth I look to these very skies,
And probing their immensities,
I found God there, his visible power;
Yet felt in my heart, amid all its sense
Of the power, an equal evidence
That his love, there too, was the nobler dower.For the loving worm within its clod,
Were diviner than a loveless god
Amid his worlds, I will dare to say.You know what I mean: God's all, man's nought:
But also, God, whose pleasure brought
Man into being, stands away
As it were a handbreadth off, to give
Room for the newly-made to live,
And look at him from a place apart,
And use his gifts of brain and heart,
Given, indeed, but to keep for ever.Who speaks of man, then, must not sever
Man's very elements from man,
Saying, "But all is God's"--whose plan
Was to create man and then leave him
Able, his own word saith, to grieve him
But able to glorify him too,
As a mere machine could never do,
That prayed or praised, all unaware
Of its fitness for aught but praise and prayer,
Made perfect as a thing of course.Man, therefore, stands on his own stock
Of love and power as a pin-point rock:
And, looking to God who ordained divorce
Of the rock from his boundless continent,
Sees, in his power made evident,
Only excess by a million-fold
O'er the power God gave man in the mould.For, note: man's hand, first formed to carry
A few pounds' weight, when taught to marry
Its strength with an engine's, lifts a mountain,
--Advancing in power by one degree;
And why count steps through eternity?But love is the ever-springing fountain:
Man may enlarge or narrow his bed
For the water's play, but the water-head--
How can he multiply or reduce it?As easy create it, as cause it to cease;
He may profit by it, or abuse it,
But 'tis not a thing to bear increase
As power does: be love less or more
In the heart of man, he keeps it shut
Or opes it wide, as he pleases, but
Love's sum remains what it was before.So, gazing up, in my youth, at love
As seen through power, ever above
All modes which make it manifest,
My soul brought all to a single test--
That he, the Eternal First and Last,
Who, in his power, had so surpassed
All man conceives of what is might,--
Whose wisdom, too, showed infinite,
--Would prove as infinitely good;
Would never, (my soul understood,)
With power to work all love desires,
Bestow e'en less than man requires;
That he who endlessly was teaching,
Above my spirit's utmost reaching,
What love can do in the leaf or stone,
(So that to master this alone,
This done in the stone or leaf for me,
I must go on learning endlessly)
Would never need that I, in turn,
Should point him out defect unheeded,
And show that God had yet to learn
What the meanest human creature needed,
--Not life, to wit, for a few short years,
Tracking his way through doubts and fears,
While the stupid earth on which I stay
Suffers no change, but passive adds
Its myriad years to myriads,
Though I, he gave it to, decay,
Seeing death come and choose about me,
And my dearest ones depart without me.No: love which, on earth, amid all the shows of it,
Has ever been seen the sole good of life in it,
The love, ever growing there, spite of the strife in it.Shall arise, made perfect, from death's repose of it,
And I shall behold thee, face to face,
O God, and in thy light retrace
How in all I loved here, still wast thou!Whom pressing to, then, as I fain would now,
I shall find as able to satiate
The love, thy gift, as my spirit's wonder
Thou art able to quicken and sublimate,
With this sky of thine, that I now walk under,
And glory in thee for, as I gaze
Thus, thus!Oh, let men keep their ways
Of seeking thee in a narrow shrine--
Be this my way!VI
For lo, what think you?suddenly
The rain and the wind ceased, and the sky
Received at once the full fruition
Of the moon's consummate apparition.The black cloud-barricade was riven,
Ruined beneath her feet, and driven
Deep in the West; while, bare and breathless,
North and South and East lay ready
For a glorious thing that, dauntless, deathless,
Sprang across them and stood steady.'Twas a moon-rainbow, vast and perfect,
From heaven to heaven extending, perfect
As the mother-moon's self, full in face.Daniel travelled to the kitchen.It rose, distinctly at the base
With its seven proper colours chorded,
Which still, in the rising, were compressed,
Until at last they coalesced,
And supreme the spectral creature lorded
In a triumph of whitest white,--
Above which intervened the night.But above night too, like only the next,
The second of a wondrous sequence,
Reaching in rare and rarer frequence,
Till the heaven of heavens were circumflexed,
Another rainbow rose, a mightier,
Fainter, flushier and flightier,--
Rapture dying along its verge.Oh, whose foot shall I see emerge,
Whose, from the straining topmost dark,
On to the keystone of that arc?VII
This sight was shown me, there and then,--
Me, out of a world of men,
Singled forth, as the chance might hap
To another if, in a thunderclap
Where I heard noise and you saw flame,
Some one man knew God called his name.For me, I think I said, "Appear!"If thou wilt, let me build to thee
"Service-tabernacles three,
"Where, forever in thy presence,
"In ecstatic acquiescence,
"Far alike from thriftless learning
"And ignorance's undiscerning,
"I may worship and remain!"Thus at the show above me, gazing
With upturned eyes, I felt my brain
Glutted with the glory, blazing
Throughout its whole mass, over and under
Until at length it burst asunder
And out of it bodily there streamed,
The too-much glory, as it seemed,
Passing from out me to the ground,
Then palely serpentining round
Into the dark with mazy error.VIII
All at once I looked up with terror.Daniel journeyed to the garden.I saw the back of him, no more--
He had left the chapel, then, as I.
I forgot all about the sky.No face: only the sight
Of a sweepy garment, vast and white,
With a hem that I could recognize.I felt terror, no surprise;
My mind filled with the cataract,
At one bound of the mighty fact."I remember, he did say
"Doubtless that, to this world's end,
"Where two or three should meet and pray,
"He would be in their midst, their friend;
"Certainly he was there with them!"And my pulses leaped for joy
Of the golden thought without alloy,
Then I saw his very vesture's hem.Then rushed the blood back, cold and clear,
With a fresh enhancing shiver of fear;
And I hastened, cried out while I pressed
To the salvation of the vest,
"But not so, Lord!It cannot be
"That thou, indeed, art leaving me--
"Me, that have despised thy friends!"Thou art the love of God--above
"His power, didst hear me place his love,
"And that was leaving the world for thee."Therefore thou must not turn from me
"As I had chosen the other part!"Folly and pride o'ercame my heart.John journeyed to the office."Our best is bad, nor bears thy test;
"Still, it should be our very best."I thought it best that thou, the spirit,
"Be worshipped in spirit and in truth,
"And in beauty, as even we require it--
"Not in the forms burlesque, uncouth,
"I left but now, as scarcely fitted
"For thee: I knew not what I pitied."But, all I felt there, right or wrong,
"What is it to thee, who curest sinning?"Am I not weak as thou art strong?"I have looked to thee from the beginning,
"Straight up to thee through all the world
"Which, like an idle scroll, lay furled
"To nothingness on either side:
"And since the time thou wast descried,
"Spite of the weak heart, so have I
"Lived ever, and so fain would die,
"Living and dying, thee before!John travelled to the garden."But if thou leavest me----"
IX
Less or more,
I suppose that I spoke thus. |
hallway | Where is John? | When,--have mercy, Lord, on us!And I spread myself beneath it,
As when the bleacher spreads, to seethe it
In the cleansing sun, his wool,--
Steeps in the flood of noontide whiteness
Some denied, discoloured web--
So lay I, saturate with brightness.And when the flood appeared to ebb,
Lo, I was walking, light and swift,
With my senses settling fast and steadying,
But my body caught up in the whirl and drift
Of the vesture's amplitude, still eddying
On, just before me, still to be followed,
As it carried me after with its motion:
What shall I say?--as a path were hollowed
And a man went weltering through the ocean,
Sucked along in the flying wake
Of the luminous water-snake.Darkness and cold were cloven, as through
I passed, upborne yet walking too.And I turned to myself at intervals,--
"So he said, so it befalls."God who registers the cup
"Of mere cold water, for his sake
"To a disciple rendered up,
"Disdains not his own thirst to slake
"At the poorest love was ever offered:
"And because my heart I proffered,
"With true love trembling at the brim,
"He suffers me to follow him
"For ever, my own way,--dispensed
"From seeking to be influenced
"By all the less immediate ways
"That earth, in worships manifold,
"Adopts to reach, by prayer and praise,
"The garment's hem, which, lo, I hold!"X
And so we crossed the world and stopped.For where am I, in city or plain,
Since I am 'ware of the world again?And what is this that rises propped
With pillars of prodigious girth?Is it really on the earth,
This miraculous Dome of God?Has the angel's measuring-rod
Which numbered cubits, gem from gem,
'Twixt the gates of the New Jerusalem,
Meted it out,--and what he meted,
Have the sons of men completed?--Binding, ever as he bade,
Columns in the colonnade
With arms wide open to embrace
The entry of the human race
To the breast of... what is it, yon building,
Ablaze in front, all paint and gilding,
With marble for brick, and stones of price
For garniture of the edifice?Now I see; it is no dream;
It stands there and it does not seem;
For ever, in pictures, thus it looks,
And thus I have read of it in books
Often in England, leagues away,
And wondered how these fountains play,
Growing up eternally
Each to a musical water-tree,
Whose blossoms drop, a glittering boon,
Before my eyes, in the light of the moon,
To the granite layers underneath.I, the sinner that speak to you,
Was in Rome this night, and stood, and knew
Both this and more.For see, for see,
The dark is rent, mine eye is free
To pierce the crust of the outer wall,
And I view inside, and all there, all,
As the swarming hollow of a hive,
The whole Basilica alive!Men in the chancel, body and nave,
Men on the pillars' architrave,
Men on the statues, men on the tombs
With popes and kings in their porphyry wombs,
All famishing in expectation
Of the main-altar's consummation.Daniel travelled to the kitchen.For see, for see, the rapturous moment
Approaches, and earth's best endowment
Blends with heaven's; the taper-fires
Pant up, the winding brazen spires
Heave loftier yet the baldachin; [Footnote: Canopy over the High Altar.]The incense-gaspings, long kept in,
Suspire in clouds; the organ blatant
Holds his breath and grovels latent,
As if God's hushing finger grazed him,
(Like Behemoth when he praised him)
At the silver bell's shrill tinkling,
Quick cold drops of terror sprinkling
On the sudden pavement strewed
With faces of the multitude.Earth breaks up, time drops away,
In flows heaven, with its new day
Of endless life, when He who trod,
Very man and very God,
This earth in weakness, shame and pain,
Dying the death whose signs remain
Up yonder on the accursed tree,--
Shall come again, no more to be
Of captivity the thrall,
But the one God, All in all,
King of kings, Lord of lords,
As His servant John received the words,
"I died, and live for evermore!"XI
Yet I was left outside the door."Why sit I here on the threshold-stone
"Left till He return, alone
"Save for the garment's extreme fold
"Abandoned still to bless my hold?"My reason, to my doubt, replied,
As if a book were opened wide,
And at a certain page I traced
Every record undefaced,
Added by successive years,--
The harvestings of truth's stray ears
Singly gleaned, and in one sheaf
Bound together for belief.Yes, I said--that he will go
And sit with these in turn, I know.Their faith's heart beats, though her head swims
Too giddily to guide her limbs,
Disabled by their palsy-stroke
From propping mine.Though Rome's gross yoke
Drops off, no more to be endured,
Her teaching is not so obscured
By errors and perversities,
That no truth shines athwart the lies:
And he, whose eye detects a spark
Even where, to man's, the whole seems dark,
May well see flame where each beholder
Acknowledges the embers smoulder.But I, a mere man, fear to quit
The clue God gave me as most fit
To guide my footsteps through life's maze,
Because himself discerns all ways
Open to reach him: I, a man
Able to mark where faith began
To swerve aside, till from its summit
Judgment drops her damning plummet,
Pronouncing such a fatal space
Departed from the founder's base:
He will not bid me enter too,
But rather sit, as now I do,
Awaiting his return outside.--'Twas thus my reason straight replied
And joyously I turned, and pressed
The garment's skirt upon my breast,
Until, afresh its light suffusing me,
My heart cried--What has been abusing me
That I should wait here lonely and coldly,
Instead of rising, entering boldly,
Baring truth's face, and letting drift
Her veils of lies as they choose to shift?I will raise
My voice up to their point of praise!I see the error; but above
The scope of error, see the love.--
Oh, love of those first Christian days!Daniel journeyed to the garden.--Fanned so soon into a blaze,
From the spark preserved by the trampled sect,
That the antique sovereign Intellect
Which then sat ruling in the world,
Like a change in dreams, was hurled
From the throne he reigned upon:
You looked up and he was gone.--Love, with Greece and Rome in ken,
Bade her scribes abhor the trick
Of poetry and rhetoric,
And exult with hearts set free,
In blessed imbecility
Scrawled, perchance, on some torn sheet
Leaving Sallust incomplete
Gone, his pride of sculptor, painter!--Love, while able to acquaint her
While the thousand statues yet
Fresh from chisel, pictures wet
From brush, she saw on every side,
Chose rather with an infant's pride
To frame those portents which impart
Such unction to true Christian Art.The air was stirred
By happy wings: Terpander's* bird
*[Footnote: Terpander, a famous Lesbian musician and lyric poet, 670 B.C.](That, when the cold came, fled away)
Would tarry not the wintry day,--
As more-enduring sculpture must,
Till filthy saints rebuked the gust
With which they chanced to get a sight
Of some dear naked Aphrodite
They glanced a thought above the toes of,
By breaking zealously her nose off.Love, surely, from that music's lingering,
Might have filched her organ-fingering,
Nor chosen rather to set prayings
To hog-grunts, praises to horse-neighings.John journeyed to the office.Love was the startling thing, the new:
Love was the all-sufficient too;
And seeing that, you see the rest:
As a babe can find its mother's breast
As well in darkness as in light,
Love shut our eyes, and all seemed right.True, the world's eyes are open now:
--Less need for me to disallow
Some few that keep Love's zone unbuckled,
Peevish as ever to be suckled,
Lulled by the same old baby-prattle
With intermixture of the rattle,
When she would have them creep, stand steady
Upon their feet, or walk already,
Not to speak of trying to climb.I will be wise another time,
And not desire a wall between us,
When next I see a church-roof cover
So many species of one genus,
All with foreheads bearing _lover_
Written above the earnest eyes of them;
All with breasts that beat for beauty,
Whether sublimed, to the surprise of them,
In noble daring, steadfast duty,
The heroic in passion, or in action,--
Or, lowered for sense's satisfaction,
To the mere outside of human creatures,
Mere perfect form and faultless features.with all Rome here, whence to levy
Such contributions to their appetite,
With women and men in a gorgeous bevy,
They take, as it were, a padlock, clap it tight
On their southern eyes, restrained from
feeding
On the glories of their ancient reading,
On the beauties of their modern singing,
On the wonders of the builder's bringing,
On the majesties of Art around them,--
And, all these loves, late struggling incessant,
When faith has at last united and bound them,
They offer up to God for a present?Why, I will, on the whole, be rather proud of it,--
And, only taking the act in reference
To the other recipients who might have allowed it,
I will rejoice that God had the preference.XII
So I summed up my new resolves:
Too much love there can never be.John travelled to the garden.And where the intellect devolves
Its function on love exclusively,
I, a man who possesses both,
Will accept the provision, nothing loth,
--Will feast my love, then depart elsewhere,
That my intellect may find its share.And ponder, O soul, the while thou departest,
And see them applaud the great heart of the artist,
Who, examining the capabilities
Of the block of marble he has to fashion
Into a type of thought or passion,--
Not always, using obvious facilities,
Shapes it, as any artist can,
Into a perfect symmetrical man,
Complete from head to foot of the life-size,
Such as old Adam stood in his wife's eyes,--
But, now and then, bravely aspires to consummate
A Colossus by no means so easy to come at,
And uses the whole of his block for the bust,
Leaving the mind of the public to finish it,
Since cut it ruefully short he must:
On the face alone he expends his devotion,
He rather would mar than resolve to diminish it,
--Saying, "Applaud me for this grand notion
"Of what a face may be!As for completing it
"In breast and body and limbs, do that, you!"Daniel moved to the office.I fancy how, happily meeting it,
A trunk and legs would perfect the statue,
Could man carve so as to answer volition.And how much nobler than petty cavils,
Were a hope to find, in my spirit-travels,
Some artist of another ambition,
Who, having a block to carve, no bigger,
Has spent his power on the opposite quest,
And believed to begin at the feet was best--
For so may I see, ere I die, the whole figure!XIII
No sooner said than out in the night!My heart lighter and more light:
And still, as before, I was walking swift,
With my senses settling fast and steadying,
But my body caught up in the whirl and drift
Of the vesture's amplitude, still eddying
On just before me, still to be followed,
As it carried me after with its motion,
--What shall I say?--as a path, were hollowed,
And a man went weltering through the ocean,
Sucked along in the flying wake
Of the luminous water-snake.I am left alone once more--
(Save for the garment's extreme fold
Abandoned still to bless my hold)
Alone, beside the entrance-door
Of a sort of temple,-perhaps a college,
--Like nothing I ever saw before
At home in England, to my knowledge.It may be... though which, I can't affirm... any
Of the famous middle-age towns of Germany:
And this flight of stairs where I sit down,
Is it Halle, Weimar, Cassel, Frankfort
Or Gottingen, I have to thank for't?It may be Gottingen,--most likely.Through the open door I catch obliquely
Glimpses of a lecture-hall;
And not a bad assembly neither,
Ranged decent and symmetrical
On benches, waiting what's to see there:
Which, holding still by the vesture's hem,
I also resolve to see with them,
Cautious this time how I suffer to slip
The chance of joining in fellowship
With any that call themselves his friends;
As these folk do, I have a notion.All settle themselves, the while ascends
By the creaking rail to the lecture-desk,
Step by step, deliberate
Because of his cranium's over-freight,
Three parts sublime to one grotesque,
If I have proved an accurate guesser,
The hawk-nosed high-cheek-boned Professor.I felt at once as if there ran
A shoot of love from my heart to the man--
That sallow virgin-minded studious
Martyr to mild enthusiasm,
As he uttered a kind of cough-preludious
That woke my sympathetic spasm,
(Beside some spitting that made me sorry)
And stood, surveying his auditory
With a wan pure look, well-nigh celestial,--
Those blue eyes had survived so much!John went to the hallway.While, under the foot they could not smutch,
Lay all the fleshly and the bestial.Over he bowed, and arranged his notes,
Till the auditory's clearing of throats
Was done with, died into a silence;
And, |
office | Where is John? | XV
And he began it by observing
How reason dictated that men
Should rectify the natural swerving,
By a reversion, now and then,
To the well-heads of knowledge, few
And far away, whence rolling grew
The life-stream wide whereat we drink,
Commingled, as we needs must think,
With waters alien to the source;
To do which, aimed this eve's discourse;
Since, where could be a fitter time
For tracing backward to its prime
This Christianity, this lake,
This reservoir, whereat we slake,
From one or other bank, our thirst?So, he proposed inquiring first
Into the various sources whence
This Myth of Christ is derivable;
Demanding from the evidence,
(Since plainly no such life was livable)
How these phenomena should class?Whether 'twere best opine Christ was,
Or never was at all, or whether
He was and was not, both together--
It matters little for the name,
So the idea be left the same.Only, for practical purpose' sake,
'Twas obviously as well to take
The popular story,--understanding
How the ineptitude of the time,
And the penman's prejudice, expanding
Fact into fable fit for the clime,
Had, by slow and sure degrees, translated it
Into this myth, this Individuum,--
Which, when reason had strained and abated it
Of foreign matter, left, for residuum,
A Man!--a right true man, however,
Whose work was worthy a man's endeavour:
Work, that gave warrant almost sufficient
To his disciples, for rather believing
He was just omnipotent and omniscient,
As it gives to us, for as frankly receiving
His word, their tradition,--which, though it meant
Something entirely different
From all that those who only heard it,
In their simplicity thought and averred it,
Had yet a meaning quite as respectable:
For, among other doctrines delectable,
Was he not surely the first to insist on
The natural sovereignty of our race?--
Here the lecturer came to a pausing-place.And while his cough, like a drouthy piston,
Tried to dislodge the husk that grew to him,
I seized the occasion of bidding adieu to him,
The vesture still within my hand.Daniel travelled to the kitchen.XVI
I could interpret its command.This time he would not bid me enter
The exhausted air-bell of the Critic.Truth's atmosphere may grow mephitic
When <DW7> struggles with Dissenter,
Impregnating its pristine clarity,
--One, by his daily fare's vulgarity,
Its gust of broken meat and garlic;
--One, by his soul's too-much presuming
To turn the frankincense's fuming
And vapours of the candle starlike
Into the cloud her wings she buoys on.Daniel journeyed to the garden.Each, that thus sets the pure air seething,
May poison it for healthy breathing--
But the Critic leaves no air to poison;
Pumps out with ruthless ingenuity
Atom by atom, and leaves you--vacuity.Poor intellect for worship, truly,
Which tells me simply what was told
(If mere morality, bereft
Of the God in Christ, be all that's left)
Elsewhere by voices manifold;
With this advantage, that the stater
Made nowise the important stumble
Of adding, he, the sage and humble,
Was also one with the Creator.You urge Christ's followers' simplicity:
But how does shifting blame, evade it?The stumbling-block, his speech--who laid it?How comes it that for one found able
To sift the truth of it from fable,
Millions believe it to the letter?Christ's goodness, then--does that fare better?Strange goodness, which upon the score
Of being goodness, the mere due
Of man to fellow-man, much more
To God,--should take another view
Of its possessor's privilege,
And bid him rule his race!You pledge
Your fealty to such rule?What, all--
From heavenly John and Attic Paul,
And that brave weather-battered Peter,
Whose stout faith only stood completer
For buffets, sinning to be pardoned,
As, more his hands hauled nets, they hardened,--
All, down to you, the man of men,
Professing here at Gottingen,
Compose Christ's flock!They, you and I,
Are sheep of a good man!The goodness,--how did he acquire it?Was it self-gained, did God inspire it?Choose which; then tell me, on what ground
Should its possessor dare propound
His claim to rise o'er us an inch?Were goodness all some man's invention,
Who arbitrarily made mention
What we should follow, and whence flinch,--
What qualities might take the style
Of right and wrong,--and had such guessing
Met with as general acquiescing
As graced the alphabet erewhile,
When A got leave an Ox to be,
No Camel (quoth the Jews) like G*,--
*[Footnote: Gimel, the Hebrew G, means camel.]For thus inventing thing and title
Worship were that man's fit requital.But if the common conscience must
Be ultimately judge, adjust
Its apt name to each quality
Already known,--I would decree
Worship for such mere demonstration
And simple work of nomenclature,
Only the day I praised, not nature,
But Harvey, for the circulation.I would praise such a Christ, with pride
And joy, that he, as none beside,
Had taught us how to keep the mind
God gave him, as God gave his kind,
Freer than they from fleshly taint:
I would call such a Christ our Saint,
As I declare our Poet, him
Whose insight makes all others dim:
A thousand poets pried at life,
And only one amid the strife
Rose to be Shakespeare: each shall take
His crown, I'd say, for the world's sake--
Though some objected--"Had we seen
"The heart and head of each, what screen
"Was broken there to give them light,
"While in ourselves it shuts the sight,
"We should no more admire, perchance,
"That these found truth out at a glance,
"Than marvel how the bat discerns
"Some pitch-dark cavern's fifty turns,
"Led by a finer tact, a gift
"He boasts, which other birds must shift
"Without, and grope as best they can."No, freely I would praise the man,--
Nor one whit more, if he contended
That gift of his, from God descended.Ah friend, what gift of man's does not?No nearer something, by a jot,
Rise an infinity of nothings
Than one: take Euclid for your teacher:
Distinguish kinds: do crownings, clothings,
Make that creator which was creature?Multiply gifts upon man's head,
And what, when all's done, shall be said
But--the more gifted he, I ween!That one's made Christ, this other, Pilate,
And this might be all that has been,--
So what is there to frown or smile at?What is left for us, save, in growth
Of soul, to rise up, far past both,
From the gift looking to the giver,
And from the cistern to the river,
And from the finite to infinity,
And from man's dust to God's divinity?XVII
Take all in a word: the truth in God's breast
Lies trace for trace upon curs impressed:
Though he is so bright and we so dim,
We are made in his image to witness him:
And were no eye in us to tell,
Instructed by no inner sense,
The light of heaven from the dark of hell,
That light would want its evidence,--
Though justice, good and truth were still
Divine, if, by some demon's will,
Hatred and wrong had been proclaimed
Law through the worlds, and right misnamed.John journeyed to the office.No mere exposition of morality
Made or in part or in totality,
Should win you to give it worship, therefore:
And, if no better proof you will care for,
--Whom do you count the worst man upon earth?John travelled to the garden.Be sure, he knows, in his conscience, more
Of what right is, than arrives at birth
In the best man's acts that we bow before:
This last knows better--true, but my fact is,
'Tis one thing to know, and another to practise.And thence I conclude that the real God-function
Is to furnish a motive and injunction
For practising what we know already.And such an injunction and such a motive
As the God in Christ, do you waive, and "heady,
"High-minded," hang your tablet-votive
Outside the fane on a finger-post?Morality to the uttermost,
Supreme in Christ as we all confess,
Why need we prove would avail no jot
To make him God, if God he were not?Daniel moved to the office.Does the precept run "Believe in good,
"In justice, truth, now understood
"For the first time?"--or, "Believe in me,
"Who lived and died, yet essentially
"Am Lord of Life?"Whoever can take
The same to his heart and for mere love's sake
Conceive of the love,--that man obtains
A new truth; no conviction gains
Of an old one only, made intense
By a fresh appeal to his faded sense.XVIII
Can it be that he stays inside?Is the vesture left me to commune with?Could my soul find aught to sing in tune with
Even at this lecture, if she tried?Oh, let me at lowest sympathize
With the lurking drop of blood that lies
In the desiccated brain's white roots
Without throb for Christ's attributes,
As the lecturer makes his special boast!If love's dead there, it has left a ghost.Admire we, how from heart to brain
(Though to say so strike the doctors dumb)
One instinct rises and falls again,
Restoring the equilibrium.And how when the Critic had done his best,
And the pearl of price, at reason's test,
Lay dust and ashes levigable
On the Professor's lecture-table,--
When we looked for the inference and monition
That our faith, reduced to such condition,
Be swept forthwith to its natural dust-hole,--
He bids us, when we least expect it,
Take back our faith,--if it be not just whole,
Yet a pearl indeed, as his tests affect it,
Which fact pays damage done rewardingly,
So, prize we our dust and ashes accordingly!"Go home and venerate the myth
"I thus have experimented with--
"This man, continue to adore him
"Rather than all who went before him,
"And all who ever followed after!"--
Surely for this I may praise you, my brother!Will you take the praise in tears or laughter?That's one point gained: can I compass another?Unlearned love was safe from spurning--
Can't we respect your loveless learning?What laurels had we showered upon her,
Girding her loins up to perturb
Our theory of the Middle Verb;
Or Turk-like brandishing a scimitar
O'er anapasts in comic-trimeter;
Or curing the halt and maimed 'Iketides,'
[Footnote: "The Suppliants," a fragment of a play by Aeschylus.]John went to the hallway.While we lounged on at our indebted ease:
Instead of which, a tricksy demon
Sets her at Titus or Philemon!When ignorance wags his ears of leather
And hates God's word, 'tis altogether;
Nor leaves he his congenial thistles
To go and browse on Paul's Epistles.--And you, the audience, who might ravage
The world wide, enviably savage,
Nor heed the cry of the retriever,
More than Herr Heine (before his fever),--
I do not tell a lie so arrant
As say my passion's wings are furled up,
And, without plainest heavenly warrant,
I were ready and glad to give the world up--
But still, when you rub brow meticulous,
And ponder the profit of turning holy
If not for God's, for your own sake solely,
--God forbid I should find you ridiculous!We are definitely told by the Hebrews that the region of
the Chaboras belonged to the new kingdom of Babylon,[589] and, as we
saw, it was not the Median army which Necho met at Biredshik, but the
Babylonians, the army of Nabopolassar.Whether it was Nabopolassar's intention to extend his power to the west
beyond the Euphrates, and enter upon the inheritance of Assyria as the
sovereign over Syria, or whether it was the advance of Necho into Syria,
and his march to the Euphrates, which first called forth this intention,
we cannot decide.In no case was he likely to suffer Egypt to establish
herself in Syria.John moved to the office.Nebuchadnezzar, the son of Nabopolassar, after his
victory at Karchemish, followed the retreating army of Egypt.The Syrian
lands once more looked forward to becoming the scene and seat of the war
between Babylonia and Egypt, as in previous times they had witnessed the
war between Assyria and Egypt.If the dominion of Egypt had been
recently imposed upon them in the place of the dominion of Assyria, it
depended on the approaching struggle of arms, whether they were to
become the subjects of a new master, of the new crown of Babylon.Thus the defeat of Necho and the retreat of the Egyptian army aroused no
feelings of delight in Jerusalem at the blow which had there fallen upon
the lord of the Nile.Daniel journeyed to the kitchen.There was a fear of the approach of the
Babylonians.We saw with what vigour the prophet Jeremiah, the son of
Hilkiah of Anathoth, had opposed the careless frivolity of Jehoiakim,
the king whom Necho had placed over the Jews (p.After the
disastrous day at Megiddo, the fall of Josiah, and carrying away of
Jehoahaz to Egypt, the eye of the prophet had been directed to the
dangerous position of the kingdom.Necho's army was then in Syria; one
city after another succumbed to his arms.To the melancholy mind of
Isaiah the fall of the kingdom seemed unavoidable.This conviction he
expressed; he foretold to Jehoiakim the most disgraceful fall.In energy
and power of thought Jeremiah cannot be compared with Isaiah, but in the
boldness and incisiveness of his opposition to the king and nation he
surpasses him.Isaiah had firmly held to the preservation and
maintenance of the city of Jerusalem and the temple, even in the
judgment of Jehovah on Israel and Judah.The conception that Jehovah's
temple, and his habitation in the holy of holies of the temple, was a
pledge for the security of the city, that Jehovah could not abandon and
destroy his temple and shrine, was a fixed idea among most of the
prophets and among the people; it was confirmed by the fortunate
preservation from the army of Sennacherib, and the hordes of |
garden | Where is Daniel? | In this confidence Jeremiah detected
a grave evil.The people trusted to the impregnable nature of the shrine
and city; the Jews believed that in spite of their errors and sins they
would be secure of Jerusalem owing to the temple.Therefore he set
himself energetically to combat this belief.He is filled with the
conception of the approaching judgment, which will be brought on by the
defection of past times, "when Israel like a swift young dromedary went
after every stranger;"[590] and by her unrighteous conversation in the
present time.His conception, which in depth of religious feeling is
raised above the views of the earlier prophets, is that all external
customs and symbols must fall to the ground, not sacrifices only and
fasts, but the temple and the ark of the covenant.Not till a radical
destruction has taken place will the restoration of the people follow,
by means of a small remnant of the righteous, and a shoot from the stock
of David.In Jeremiah's view the people cannot be saved without the
stroke of annihilation, "for the Ethiop cannot change his skin, nor the
leopard his spots."[591] But after this judgment Jehovah will "make a
new covenant" with his people, "which is not like that which he made
with their fathers, when he led them out of Egypt.""I will put my law
in your inward parts," saith Jehovah, "and write it in your
hearts."[592] "In those days they will no more speak of the ark of
Jehovah; it will not come into the mind of any: none will miss it; nor
will another be made."Then will Jehovah set up shepherds after his own
heart of the branch of David,[593] who will pasture Israel with wisdom
and prudence; and all nations will gather together to the name of
Jehovah, and will not walk after the hardness of their evil heart.Daniel travelled to the kitchen.Filled with these conceptions, Jeremiah cried aloud to the people
assembled in the court of the temple: "Amend your hearts, and listen to
the voice of Jehovah, your God.If ye will not walk in his law, which he
has set before you, and hearken to the words of the prophets, Jehovah
will make this city a curse to all the nations of the earth.[594] Trust
not in lying words: this is the temple of Jehovah.Ye steal, murder, and
commit adultery; ye offer incense to Baal, and knead dough to make cakes
for the queen of heaven,[595] and come into this house, which is called
by the name of Jehovah, and say: We are delivered to do all these
abominations.Daniel journeyed to the garden.Go ye now unto my dwelling-place which was in Shiloh,
where I set my name at the first, and see what I did to it for the
wickedness of my people Israel.So will I do to this house in which ye
trust, as I did to Shiloh, and will cast you out of my sight, as I cast
out your brethren, the seed of Ephraim."[596] At these words the priests
seized Jeremiah, and the people rose in anger to put him to death,
because he had announced the fall of the temple.Then certain of the
elders came forward, and reminded the people that in Hezekiah's time the
prophet Micah had announced: "Zion shall be ploughed as a field, and
Jerusalem shall become a heap of stones,"[597] and neither the king nor
the people had put him to death.Jeremiah himself said to the enraged
multitude: "Behold, I am in your hands; do with me as seemeth good and
meet unto you; but know ye for certain that ye will bring innocent blood
upon this city; for of a truth Jehovah hath sent me unto you to speak
all these words in your ears."After this occurrence in the temple, Jeremiah no longer ventured to come
forth in public; he contented himself for the present with dictating his
warnings and announcements to his scribe Baruch.After the battle of
Karchemish it was clear to him at once that the king of Babel would be
the instrument of Jehovah to accomplish the approaching judgment: the
mission which Isaiah had assigned to the Assyrians 100 years
previously--to destroy all nations--Jeremiah now saw given to the
Chaldaeans.But as Isaiah then prophesied the fall of Assyria, when she
had accomplished the judgments of Jehovah, so, according to the views
of Jeremiah, the Chaldaeans are to be destroyed when they have done their
work.After a rule of 70 years, _i.e._ after a period of ten
Sabbath-years (II.219), this fortune will overtake the
Babylonians--such is the view of Jeremiah."For 23 years," so Jeremiah
commanded his scribe Baruch to write,[598] "the word of Jehovah hath
come to me, and I have spoken to you, rising early and speaking, but ye
have not hearkened; ye have hearkened to other prophets, not to the
servants of Jehovah.Therefore I will bring Nebuchadnezzar my servant
against this land and its inhabitants, saith Jehovah, and against all
the nations round about, and I will destroy out of them the voice of
mirth, the voice of the bridegroom and the voice of the bride, the sound
of the mill, and the light of the lamp.The whole land shall be a
desolation, and these nations shall serve the king of Babylon seventy
years.Take the wine-cup of this fury at my hand, so spake Jehovah to
me, and cause all the nations to drink it, that they may drink, and be
moved, and be mad, because of the sword that I will send among them.John journeyed to the office.Cause Jerusalem to drink it, and the cities of Judah, the Pharaoh of
Egypt, and all the kings of the land of the Philistines, the kings of
Tyre and Sidon, and the kings of the islands beyond the sea, the
Edomites, and the Moabites, and the kings of Arabia who dwell in the
deserts, and the kings of Media.Jehovah shall roar from on high, he
shall roar upon his habitation (Jerusalem); he shall give a shout, as
they that tread the grapes, against all the inhabitants of the earth.Jehovah will reckon with the nations; he will plead with all flesh, and
give them that are wicked to the sword.Evil shall go forth from nation
to nation, and the slain of Jehovah will be in that day from one end of
the earth to the other; they shall not be lamented, nor buried, they
shall be dung upon the ground."[599]
At Karchemish Necho had lost all the fruits of his struggles in Syria.He did not venture to engage in a second battle for the possession of
Syria, but retired to the borders of Egypt.In Jerusalem a day of
fasting was kept at the approach of the Babylonian army.More than three
years and eight months had passed since Necho made Jehoiakim king of
Judah.[600] These and other announcements Jeremiah commanded Baruch to
read before the assembled multitude in the upper court of the temple on
the day of fasting."It may be they will present their supplication
before Jehovah," he said, "for great is the anger that Jehovah hath
pronounced upon this people."Baruch carried out the command of
Jeremiah.Baruch had to read it again
before the captains of Jehoiakim, at their request.These told the king,
who was at that time in his winter house, of the prophecies of Jeremiah.John travelled to the garden.Jehoiakim caused three or four leaves to be read, then seized the roll,
cut it with a knife, threw the pieces into the pan of coals which stood
before him, and gave orders that Jeremiah and his scribe Baruch should
be brought before him, but both had hidden themselves, and the captains
were not inclined to discover them by any strict search.[601]
The Babylonian army did not appear before Jerusalem.Nabopolassar lay
sick at Babylon; the account of his death summoned Nebuchadnezzar back
to the metropolis.He hastened with a few companions through the deserts
to Babylon, in order to take the crown of the new kingdom.The army,
with the prisoners and the booty, were to follow (605 B.C.).Meanwhile
the priests at Babylon had made provision, and set up a regent from
among themselves who governed the kingdom till the return of
Nebuchadnezzar.[602]
As soon as the first succession to the throne of the new kingdom was
happily completed, and Nebuchadnezzar saw his position established, he
applied his forces to extending and securing his empire.If the new
dynasty was to take root, it was incumbent on it to renew the splendour
and power of the ancient kingdom of Babylon.The successes which
Nabopolassar had achieved against the Assyrians, the splendid victory
which Nebuchadnezzar had gained against the Egyptians, must have
confirmed the confidence of the new ruler in his own power, and the
strength of his army.Yet the first consideration was not merely
splendour and glory.Egypt could not indeed maintain her place in Syria,
but she was still in possession of Gaza; if the Syrian States were not
annexed, they would always incline to Egypt, and would soon join her
again.To abandon Syria was equivalent to handing over the country to
the Egyptians.A further consideration was, that the Median power in
league with which Nabopolassar and Nebuchadnezzar had risen was far
superior to the Babylonians.At present, it was true, they were in the
closest and best relations with the Median and Lydian courts--but could
they count on the continuance of these relations?Daniel moved to the office.Was it not advisable
to create for the new kingdom of Babylon an empire which should form an
adequate counterpoise to the power of the Medes?The north and east
belonged to the Medes, the natural direction for the extension of
Babylon therefore lay to the south, on the coast of the Persian Gulf,
and to the west.The victorious campaigns of the Assyrian rulers pointed
in this direction; here, on the shore of the Mediterranean, lay the
cities of the Phenicians, who collected within their walls the trade of
the world, whose industry and wealth could bring to the new kingdom the
greatest sources of help.Nebuchadnezzar's first object was to extend his power over the Arabians
on the lower Euphrates, in North Arabia, and in the Syrian desert.The
tribes of the Temanites, Dedanites, and Kedarites were subjugated.The
princes of the Arabians of Dedan, Tema, Kedar, and Hazor, became vassals
of Babylon.[603] Then Arpad, Hamath, and Damascus, which had resisted
Assyria so long and stubbornly, succumbed.Jerusalem trembled at the
fall of the neighbouring nations."The Chaldaeans are roused," says the
prophet Habakkuk; "that bitter and hasty nation, which shall march
through the breadth of the earth, and shall possess the dwelling-places
which are not theirs.Their horses are swifter than leopards, and more
fierce than evening wolves; proudly their horses spring from far: they
shall fly as the eagle that hasteth to eat.John went to the hallway.And they shall scoff at the
kings, and the princes shall be a scorn to them; they shall deride every
stronghold, for they shall heap up earth against it, and take it, and
carry off prisoners like sand.John moved to the office.Then will they go on like a storm-wind,
and their might is their god.[604] My knees quaked that I might look
with rest upon the day of trouble, upon the people which oppresses
us.[605] Shall they slay the nations continually without punishment?can
he not rest who enlargeth his desire as hell, and is as death, and
cannot be satisfied, but gathereth unto him all nations, and heapeth
unto him all people?Will not the people suddenly rise up and demand
usury from thee?will not the nations plunder thee, whom thou hast
plundered?"[606] Of Nebuchadnezzar, Jeremiah says: "Like a lion he will
come up against the well-stocked pasture.[607] Flee, flee with all your
might, ye inhabitants of Hazor, for Nebuchadnezzar, king of Babylon,
hath taken counsel against you, and hath conceived a purpose against
you.Get you up to the nation which hath neither gates nor bars, and
dwelleth alone; go up to Kedar and spoil the men of the East.Your tents
and your flocks will they take; your curtains and your camels they will
carry away; the multitude of your flocks shall be a spoil to them.I
will scatter to all the winds of the earth those who cut the corners of
their hair (the Arabians), saith Jehovah, and will bring destruction on
them from every side, and Hazor shall be a dwelling for the jackal, a
desolation for ever.[608] Cry, ye daughters of Rabbath (Rabbath Ammon,
II.155), gird yourselves with sack-cloth, for Milcom shall go away
into misery, his priests and princes together.[609] Woe to thee, Moab;
the people of Camos (Chemosh, I.He shall fly like an
eagle, and spread his wings over Moab; the strong places are taken.[610]
Hamath is confounded, and Arpad.Damascus is waxed feeble, and turneth
herself to flee.[611] Thou wert confident, O Edom, because thou dwellest
on the high rocks and the tops of the mountains.Though thou buildest
thy nest like the eagle thou shalt be thrown down."[612]
Five years had elapsed since the battle of Karchemish when
Nebuchadnezzar crossed the borders of Judah (600 B.C.).[613] Jehoiakim
submitted and thus escaped destruction.After the subjugation of Ammon,
Moab, and Judah, Nebuchadnezzar could turn his arms against the southern
coast of Syria.This advance of Nebuchadnezzar and the necessity of
preventing Babylonia from establishing herself on the borders of Egypt,
could not but bring Egypt again into arms.Necho had had time to recover
from the defeat of Karchemish.The hope of aid from Egypt induced
Jehoiakim to renounce his obedience three years after he had submitted
to Nebuchadnezzar, and to turn his arms against Babylonia.At
Nebuchadnezzar's command the troops of the neighbouring states who had
remained loyal, the Northern Syrians, the Ammonites, and Moabites, first
invaded the land of Judah.When the Egyptians had been driven back into
their borders, and the king of Babylon had "taken everything that
belonged to the king of Egypt from the river Euphrates to the brook of
Egypt," Nebuchadnezzar turned his arms back against Jerusalem to punish
the rebels.[614] Jehoiakim had recently died, and the people had raised
to the throne his son Jechoniah, a youth of eighteen years old.Jerusalem was invested by the Babylonian army: Nebuchadnezzar came in
person to conduct the siege.[615] "By my life,"--such are the words
Jeremiah puts in the mouth of Jehovah,--"if Jechoniah were a signet on
my right hand, I would pluck him off, and give him into the hands of
those who seek after his life, into the hands of the Chaldaeans.I cast
thee away and thy mother into another land, and they shall not bring
thee back unto the land whither thy heart yearns to return."[616]
Jechoniah had only sat three months on the throne when he saw himself
compelled by the advance of the siege to open the gates of Jerusalem to
the enemy.Daniel journeyed to the kitchen.Daniel went to the garden.With his mother Nehustha, who appears to have been regent
for him, with the officers of his household and the eunuchs, he went
into the camp of the Chaldaeans to give himself up to the king of Babylon
(597 B.C.).[617]
Nebuchadnezzar wished to be secure of the obedience of the Jews; he did
not intend that the hope of Egypt should again bring them under arms.John went back to the bathroom.He
caused not only the young king and his mother, the courtiers, the
treasures, and the best |
kitchen | Where is John? | In
order to disarm the city more completely, the workers in iron, the
smiths and lock-smiths, were carried away.In all, 10,023 souls were
transplanted by Nebuchadnezzar to Babylonia, only people of no
importance are said to have been left in Jerusalem.In Jechoniah's place
Nebuchadnezzar set up his uncle Zedekiah, the fourth son of Josiah, as
viceroy, and pledged him to obedience and fidelity by joining hands and
taking an oath.[618] The Jews carried away were settled, after the
example of the Assyrian princes, in Babylonia, in part on the Chaboras.These rules for securing the obedience of the small territory did not
break the tough spirit of the Jews, their stubborn resistance, or their
eager desire for freedom and independence.Zedekiah and those around him
felt the disgrace of the yoke which was laid upon them, and shared with
the mass of the people the desire to shake it off on the first
opportunity.Many prophets favoured this tendency and promised victory
and success to a new rebellion in arms.Not long after Zedekiah had been
placed on the throne, the prophet Hananiah of Gibeon announced before
all the people in the temple: "In two years Jehovah will bring back to
this place all the furniture of the temple which Nebuchadnezzar has
carried to Babylon; and I will bring back, saith Jehovah, Jechoniah the
king of Judah and all the captives, for I will break the yoke of the
king of Babylon."[619] Jeremiah came forward in opposition and said:
"Wooden yokes thou wilt break, and lay on iron yokes.Behold, I will
remove thee from the earth, saith Jehovah; in this year thou shalt die,
for thou hast counselled rebellion."And Hananiah died, as tradition
adds, in the same year, in the seventh month.[620]
Jeremiah was never weary of opposing to the uttermost any view of this
kind.To him the Chaldaeans were the instrument of Jehovah for the
punishment of the nations: to endure their rule was, in his view, the
will of Jehovah; any one who resisted the Chaldaeans only brought on
himself a heavier yoke, and called down destruction more completely on
his head.If Isaiah had at least cherished the belief in the continuance
of Jerusalem and the temple, Jeremiah, as we have seen, did not share in
this hope.And therefore he preached without ceasing submission to the
yoke, and patient obedience; he was unwearied in taking from the people
every prospect of rescue; he sent letters to the Jews transplanted to
Babylonia, and urged them not to enter into conspiracies; he went so far
as to commend the lot of these captives, and requested them to build
houses in Babylon, and pray to Jehovah for the welfare of that
country.[621] But though the national feelings and impulses of his
nation were unknown to a prophet whose eyes were directed upwards,
though for him the feeling of nationality was lost in religious
conceptions,--the efforts of the people to win back its independent
existence, the stubborn tenacity with which the Jews were ready to fight
for their fatherland, and break the yoke of the foreigner, even when
they rested on deceptive calculations, were not less justified than the
intelligent calculation of the impossibility of such an attempt; and
even from the lofty religious position of Jeremiah, who regarded nothing
but the inward salvation, the purity, and elevation of the heart, could
claim appreciation, since even the common children of earth must have
their rights.Who could blame those who, even in the most hopeless,
desperate condition, estimated more highly the duty of dying for their
country, than the advice to submit quietly to the conqueror?That
persons who held these views should consider this step on the part of
Jeremiah as a corrupt movement, should demand that the prophet take the
side of his own nation against the foreigner, and brand his predictions
as treason to the state, is easily intelligible.In such a sharp opposition of views, and in the strained position of
affairs in which Judah found herself between Babylon and Egypt, it was
impossible but that heavy accusations should be brought against
Jeremiah, and a hot persecution set on foot against him.He complains
bitterly how he was daily mocked and derided;[622] he is in despair and
laments his destiny; he tells us how he had determined to speak no more
in the name of Jehovah, but the inward voice compelled him; the fire was
kindled in his heart: "I could not stay."[623] "Cursed be the day," he
exclaims, "on which I was born!cursed be the man who brought glad
tidings to my father, and said unto him, 'A son is born unto thee!'Why,
Jehovah, didst thou not slay me in the womb, that I should see labour
and sorrow, and consume my days with shame?"[624] These moods alternate
with a fierce desire for vengeance on his opponents.Jehovah has driven him forth to speak, and put his word in his mouth; he
has often besought Jehovah to turn away from Judah the day of
destruction: Jehovah, for whom he suffers, must avenge him on his
enemies.He is so embittered and angry that he even calls down bloody
destruction upon his enemies."Look on me, Jehovah," he says, "and
avenge me of my persecutors, and know that for thy sake I have suffered
rebuke.[625] I have not desired the woful day, thou knowest: that which
came out from my lips was before thee.[626] If thy words came to me, I
took them eagerly, and they are the joy and rejoicing of my heart; I sat
not in the assembly of the mockers, nor rejoiced.I sat alone, for thou
hast filled me with indignation.I was like a lamb led to the slaughter,
and knew not that they had devised devices against me.[627] Why is my
pain perpetual, and my wound incurable?[628] Wherefore doth the way of
the wicked prosper?Wherefore are they happy that deal very
treacherously?[629] Pull them out like sheep for the slaughter, and
prepare them for the day of destruction.[630] Consider how I stand
before thee, to turn away thy wrath from them.Therefore give up their
children to the famine, and deliver them to the sword.Let their men be
the sacrifice of death, and their women bereaved and widows.Thou
knowest all their counsel against me to slay me; forgive them not their
iniquity, neither blot out their sin from thy sight."[631] Jeremiah then
received the answer of Jehovah, who said to him: "Gird thy loins; speak
to them all that I bid thee; be not afraid of them.I will make thee a
fenced city, and an iron pillar, and brazen walls against the whole
land; against the king, the priests, the elders, and the people.They
shall fight against thee, but they shall not prevail against thee; I
will save thee from the hand of the wicked, and deliver thee from the
grasp of the furious."[632]
So Jeremiah prophesied again: "No doubt, their prophets say to them: Ye
shall not see the sword nor shall ye have famine, but the Lord will give
you happy days in this land.But Jehovah saith: I have not commanded
them nor spoken to them; they prophesy a false vision, and the deceit of
their heart, and divination.The people to whom they prophesy shall be cast out in the streets of
Jerusalem.[633] They will say: We acknowledge, O Jehovah, our iniquity,
and the sin of our fathers, but do not abhor us, for thy name's sake; do
not disgrace the throne of thy glory; break not thy covenant with us.But Jehovah saith to me: Pray not for this people; though Moses and
Samuel stood before me, my mind could not be towards them.[634] Sorrow
not with them.I have taken from them my salvation, my grace, and mercy.The sin of Judah is written with a pen of iron, and graven with the
point of a diamond upon the table of their hearts, and upon the horns of
their altars."[635]
In such a contest of opposite views, in such an alternation of moods,
four years had passed for the Jews after Zedekiah was placed by
Nebuchadnezzar upon the throne, when the kings of Sidon and Tyre sent to
Jerusalem to call on the Jews to revolt against Nebuchadnezzar, by whose
attack they were threatened.Messengers also came from the Ammonites and
the Moabites, who had been in subjection longer than the Jews, and from
the Edomites (593 B.C.).If their forces were united there seemed to be
a prospect of success in resistance and rebellion, and the reduction of
the Phenician cities might be prevented.But Jeremiah spoke to the
envoys in the name of Jehovah: "I have made the earth, the man and the
beast, and I gave them to whom it seemed meet to me; and now I give all
these lands into the hands of Nebuchadnezzar, the king of Babylon,
my servant, and I have given him the beasts of the field also to
serve him.And the nation and the kingdom which will not serve
Nebuchadnezzar,--that nation I will punish with the sword, and with the
famine, and with the pestilence, until I have consumed them by his hand.If ye put your necks in the yoke of Babylon, ye shall live."[636] This
time the view of the prophet prevailed; Zedekiah repaired in person to
Babylon obviously to assure Nebuchadnezzar of his fidelity.[637]
The Phenicians were left to their fate, and subjugated by
Nebuchadnezzar.[638] Only Sidon seems to have made a vigorous
resistance.[639] The island city of Tyre retained her independence.In the year 589 B.C., Hophrah, the grandson of Necho, ascended the
throne of Egypt.Zedekiah soon directed his eyes to the new ruler of the
valley of the Nile.He showed himself ready to venture on the struggle
with Nebuchadnezzar.Jeremiah dissuaded them: "Egypt is a very fair
heifer," he exclaims, "but destruction cometh from the North.O thou
daughter, dwelling in Egypt, furnish thyself to go into captivity; for
Noph (Memphis) shall be waste, and burnt, and desolate without an
inhabitant.The hired men in the midst of her are like fatted bullocks,
for they also are turned back and are fled away together; they did not
stand because the day of their calamity was come upon them, the time of
their visitation.Thus saith
Jehovah of Hosts: Behold, I will punish Ammon of No (Thebes), and
Pharaoh and Egypt, with their gods and their kings, even Pharaoh and all
them that trust in him.And I will deliver them into the hand of those
that seek their lives, and into the hand of Nebuchadnezzar, king of
Babylon, and into the hand of his servants."[640]
But the prince and people of Judah were not to be restrained.Building
on the help of Egypt, Zedekiah, in the year 588 B.C., took up arms
against Babylonia.[641] But before Hophrah had finished his preparations
Nebuchadnezzar was in Judah with a powerful army.[642] The strong places
were invested: one city after another surrendered, only Lachish and
Aseka resisted for any length of time.[643] "At the meeting of the
ways," says the prophet Ezekiel, "the king of Babylon halts to make
divination; he shakes his arrows, consults with the teraphim, looks in
the liver of the victim.In his right hand is the divination for
Jerusalem, to throw up a wall against Jerusalem, to build towers, to
appoint battering-rams against the gates, to lift up the voice with
shouting.Mary went to the bathroom.The head-band will be taken, and the crown removed from the
prince of Israel."[644]
The siege of Jerusalem commenced.If in former times, when the Assyrians
were encamped before Jerusalem, Isaiah had urged the nation and king to
a courageous endurance though arms had been taken up against his advice,
the absoluteness of his deep conviction, the certainty which he had
received from above, did not permit Jeremiah to take up the attitude of
his great predecessor; on the contrary, he did not cease even now to
condemn the resistance in the strongest terms.In his eyes it was a
rebellion against the counsels of God, against the divine order of the
world.When Zedekiah sent to him, to bid him inquire of Jehovah about
the issue of the siege, Jeremiah answered: "I will turn back the weapons
of war that are in your hands, wherewith ye fight against the king of
Babylon, and I will bring the Chaldaeans into the city.I will fight
against you with an outstretched arm, and will deliver the city into the
hands of the king of Babylon, that he may burn it, and I will visit your
inhabitants with famine, sword, and pestilence, and those that are left
I will give into the hands of Nebuchadnezzar, that he may smite them
with the edge of the sword.I set before you the way of life and the way
of death; he that abideth in the city shall fall by the sword; but he
that goeth out and falleth to the Chaldaeans he shall live."[645] Though
these announcements were adapted to undermine the courage and strength
of the resistance, and heavy as was the weight given to them by the
position which Jeremiah held among the prophets, they did not discourage
the king and the population of the metropolis.The debtors and all
slaves of Hebrew birth were set at liberty in order to strengthen the
numbers for the defence.John went to the kitchen.Success seemed to come to the aid of their endurance and courage.The
Egyptian army advanced and compelled the Chaldaeans to raise the siege of
Jerusalem (587 B.C.).[646] There was time to recover breath.Had not
Jehovah again delivered Jerusalem as in the day when Sennacherib
oppressed the city?Jeremiah's dreary proclamations seemed contradicted.But he persisted in his position and announced: "Pharaoh's army which is
come forth to help you shall return into Egypt, and the Chaldaeans shall
come again before the city, and shall take it.And though ye had smitten
the whole army of the Chaldaeans and there remained but wounded men in
their tents, they would rise up and burn Jerusalem with fire."[647] It
was natural that Jeremiah, in consequence of these speeches and
predictions, should appear a traitor in the eyes of the nation, who were
struggling for freedom and existence.When, availing himself of the
raising of the siege, he wished to go to his plot of ground at Anathoth,
he was seized in the gate as a deserter to the Chaldaeans and thrown into
prison.Yet the king allowed him to be kept in less severe custody, and
soon set him at liberty.[648]
The prophecy of Jeremiah was fulfilled.Invested once more, Jerusalem was pressed more severely than ever.[649]
The lines of the Chaldaeans ran even to the walls of the city,[650] but
the defenders were unwearied.The houses and even the buildings of the
palaces were in part pulled down in order to strengthen the shattered
walls, or build new portions.[651] That Jeremiah under such
circumstances continued to preach the abandonment of the siege, and
subjection to the Chaldaeans, roused at length the captains.They
demanded his death from the king: "He weakeneth the hands of the men of
war that remain, and the hands of the people: he seeketh not the welfare
of the Jews, but the hurt."[652] As Zedekiah allowed them to do with
Jeremiah according to their pleasure, they seized him, brought him for
custody to the hill of Zion, and there caused him to be thrown into the
well of the prison.But there was only mud in the well, and when an
Ethiopian eunuch of the king interceded with him for the prophet,
Zedekiah gave command that Jeremiah should be taken out of the well, and |
bathroom | Where is Daniel? | [653]
Meantime "the famine prevailed in the city;" the distress rose to the
highest pitch."The priests and the elders," so we are told in the
Lamentations, "sought food in vain: the sword destroys without, the
famine within.The people sought food with sighs, and whatsoever a man
had of price he gave for food.The children and the sucklings swooned;
they cried to their mothers, where is corn and wine, when they swooned
as the wounded in the streets of the city, when their soul was poured
out into their mothers' bosoms.Better was it for those who were slain
with the sword than for those who were slain with hunger; the hands of
pitiful women have sodden their children for food."[654] At length the
Chaldaeans, whose attack was directed to the most accessible part, the
north side of the city, succeeded in taking the suburb surrounded by the
outer wall.[655] Having gained possession of this, they directed their
efforts against the middle gate, which guarded the entrance into the
city beside the fortress of Millo (p.Led by Nergal Sarezer, and
Sarsechim, the captain of the eunuchs, the Babylonians took the middle
gate in the night by storm, and firmly established themselves there.Zedekiah despaired of being able to maintain the city any longer, with
the motley crowd of soldiers weakened by hunger, and the inhabitants who
doubtless suffered still more in numbers and strength.He attempted to
break through with his army.He succeeded in passing the lines and
gaining the open country, but the Chaldaeans in pursuit came up with the
troop which had so boldly broken out in the plain of Jericho.The troop
was dispersed; a part, including Zedekiah, was captured, the rest
escaped.The inhabitants, even after the king and army had left the
city, stubbornly defended themselves in the various parts--in the
citadel and the temple--so that some weeks elapsed before the city was
completely in the hands of the Babylonians (July, 586 B.C.).The siege
had lasted one year five months and seven days.[656]
The first rebellion of the Jews had been punished by Nebuchadnezzar by
the dethronement and abduction of the king, by carrying away the
influential people and the army of Jerusalem, and by disarming the city.These arrangements had not been sufficient to secure the obedience of
the little country.For the future Egypt was no longer to find
confederates in Southern Syria, and support in Jerusalem.The stubborn
resistance of the Jews was to be broken; an end must be put for ever to
their intrigues with Egypt.Zedekiah, who was placed on the throne by
Nebuchadnezzar himself, and swore obedience to him, was not to escape
the punishment of this breach of faith.Nebuchadnezzar was not with the
besieging army; he was at Riblah, on the Orontes, the grassy plain where
Necho had pitched his camp after the battle of Megiddo.In his presence were first executed the captive leaders of
the Jews, and among them his own sons.Then his eyes were put out; he
was laden with chains, and carried away to Babylon.[657] The punishment of Jerusalem was carried out by Nebusaradan,
the chief of the body-guard of Nebuchadnezzar.The high priest, Seraiah,
together with the second priest, Zephaniah, the overseers of the temple,
a number of public officers, and sixty of the most distinguished men in
the city, were also taken to Riblah, and put to death, seventy-two in
number.[658] The brazen pillars at the entrance to the temple, and the
brazen sea (II.182, 184), all the vessels and furniture of the temple
which still remained, and everything that was to be found of value in
the palace, was carried off to Babylon.[659] The Chaldaean army levelled
the walls; city, palace, and temple were burned to the ground.Mary went to the bathroom.The
inhabitants who survived were carried away, "except the poor people who
had nothing;" even from the country the richer men were carried away
with their wives and children, and only the common people left
behind.[660] Over the remnant of the population a Jew, Gedaliah, the son
of Ahikam (p.317), who must previously have given proof of his Chaldaean
sentiments, was placed as viceroy.He took up his abode in Mizpeh, where
a Babylonian garrison remained.Let them come up to the help of the Lord
in the mighty work in which we are engaged, prepared by education and
enlightened piety to aid in the great moral conflict between light and
darkness, which now agitates our guilty country.Anti-Slavery Societies,
embracing in their Constitutions, abstinence from slave labor products,
as far as this can be done.Peace Societies, based on the principle that
all war is inconsistent with the gospel.Temperance Societies, on the
principle of abstinence from all that can intoxicate, and Moral Reform
Societies should be organized throughout our land wherever it is
practicable.The formation of Maternal Associations, Dorcas Societies,
Reading & Conversation Companies, and above all, Meetings for Prayer
will have a salutary influence in combining efforts for improvement.Whenever you can unite with white associations, it will be productive of
reciprocal benefit, because it will tend to remove that unchristian
prejudice which "bites like a serpent, and stings like an adder."You
may have to suffer much in thus commingling, but we entreat you to bear
hardness as good soldiers of Jesus Christ, that your children, and your
children's children, may be spared the anguish you are compelled to
endure on this account.To carry forward these various schemes of
elevation and improvement, money is absolutely requisite, and if all
that is saved from unnecessary expenses be lent to the Lord to advance
the great work of Reformation, as well as devoted to charitable purposes
it will be treasure laid up in heaven, which neither moth nor rust can
corrupt.Another subject which is worthy of your consideration is the consistency
of abstaining, as Abolitionists, from the use of slave labor products,
as far as is practicable.The conviction that this is a duty, is gaining
ground among the friends of emancipation, and we doubt not that the
self-denial which it will probably demand on our part, will arouse the
conscience of the slaveholder, by demonstrating that we are willing to
sacrifice interest and convenience to principle.To the toil-worn slave,
it will minister unspeakable consolation, to hear, while bending over
the rice, or sugar, or cotton field, and writhing under the lash, that
his friends at the North feel a sympathy so deep for his sufferings,
that they cannot partake of the proceeds of his unrequited toil.Think
you not it would cheer his agonized heart, and impart renewed strength
to endure his affliction, to know that his blood was not spilt for the
gratification of those who are trying to obtain for him the blessing of
liberty.We entreat you to give this evidence of your love to those who
have emphatically fallen among thieves, then, although you cannot pour
the wine and the oil into their corporeal wounds, nor dress with
mollifying ointment, the bloody gash of the drivers' whip, you may
minister to their mental comfort, and soothe their broken hearts.Let
it not be imagined that the slaves of the South are destitute of
intelligence, or ignorant of what is doing at the North; many a noble
mind is writhing there in bondage, and panting for deliverance, as the
hart panteth after the water brooks.Goode, in the legislature of
Virginia in 1832, when he brought in the resolution which produced the
celebrated debate in that body, "earnestly pressed upon the House, the
effect of what was passing upon the minds of the slaves themselves.Many
of them he represented as wise and intelligent men, constantly engaged
in reflection, informed of all that was occurring, and having their
attention fixed upon the Legislature."And we have been informed on good
authority, that a slave in one of the Southern states, one of those
whose soul never bowed to the yoke of bondage, said, that himself and
his fellow sufferers spent many a midnight hour in discussing the
probable results of the abolition movements, and were firmly persuaded
that their redemption from bondage would finally be effected, though
they knew not exactly by what means it would be accomplished.Every
fugitive slave who is carried back, bears to his unhappy countrymen an
account of all that is doing.Every freeman who falls into the ruthless
fangs of the kidnapper, spreads information at the South, of all our
efforts for the abolition of slavery, and we put it to any one of
ourselves, whether, if we were wasting our energies, and toiling in
cheerless bondage, it would not be some alleviation to know, that there
were those who loved us so tenderly, and felt for us so keenly, that
they would not participate in the luxuries which were the fruit of our
extorted and unrequited labor.John went to the kitchen.It has been urged, and with some plausibility, that the use of the
products of slave labor, is one of the "little things" connected with
the great cause of abolition.Admitting it to be little, is it therefore
unimportant?Does not the reproof of our Redeemer exactly apply to this
case, when in speaking of the tithe of mint, annise and cummin, and the
weightier matters of the law, he says, "This ought ye to have done, and
not to leave the other undone;" but however small it may appear, it
involves a great principle, because it really encourages the traffic in
human flesh, by offering to the slaveholder an inducement to perpetuate
the system of oppression from which he derives his unrighteous gains.Another hackneyed objection is, that our abstaining will not lessen the
quantity grown, and other consumers will soon be found.With this we
have nothing to do; we might on the same premises, purchase and hold
slaves, because if we do not, others will.No doubt much inconvenience
and some privation must be endured, but this will be continually
decreasing, as West India productions will furnish a substitute.In some
instances the use of cotton cannot perhaps be avoided by the poor, but
still much may be done, and those of us who have made the experiment can
testify that our abstinence has strengthened us for the work we are
engaged in, and that there is a sweet feeling of conscious integrity
that gladdens our hearts."I will wash mine hands in innocency, so will
I compass thine altar, oh Lord."In proportion as the demand for free
labor products increases, the supply will increase, and the greater the
quantity of such articles which is thrown into the market, the more
their price will lessen.Daniel moved to the office.Besides "allowing the labor of a slave for six
years, to produce all the various slave-grown products which anyone may
use during the course of his life, would not he who was so occupied be
in effect the slave of such an one during the time he was thus
employed?"This is a solemn and affecting consideration, and can be most
correctly weighed when we are on our knees before God; it is a matter
between Him and every individual soul, and he alone can settle it.We believe it was the want of that principle which we have been
endeavoring to inculcate, "Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself,"
that gave birth to the scheme of expatriating our colored brethren to
Africa.We do not design to attribute unhallowed motives to all who
engaged in this crusade against the rights and happiness of free
American citizens; many, we believe, like our beloved brother, Gerrit
Smith, embarked in this enterprise without examining the principles of
the Society, deluded by the false, though plausible assertion, that the
colored man could not rise in his native land to an equality with his
white compatriots, and desirous to do them all the good that
circumstances admitted.Nevertheless, we are constrained to believe what
you have so often asserted, and so keenly felt, that "The Colonization
Society originated in hatred to the free people of color."We rejoice
that you early detected the fallacy and the iniquity of this scheme;
that you arose in the dignity of conscious rights, in the majesty of
moral power, in the boldness of injured innocence, and exposed the
cruelty and unrighteousness of a project, which, had it been carried
fully into execution, would have robbed America of some of her best and
most valuable citizens, and exiled from our shores, those whose hearts
are bound to their country by no common bonds, even by the holy bonds of
sympathy for their "countrymen in chains."A project which would have
poured upon the shores of Pagan Africa, a broken hearted population,
prepared by mental suffering to sink into a premature grave.A band of
exiles, who had been exposed against their judgment and their will, to
all the nameless trials which belong to the settlement of colonial
establishments, and all that anguish which must have been endured under
the reflection that they had been banished from the land of their birth,
merely to gratify an unhallowed prejudice when their country needed
their services, when there was abundant room in the land, though not in
the hearts of their countrymen.We admire your noble and uncompromising
resistance to this scheme of oppression, and your children will thank
you to the latest generation.We honor you for the undaunted and
generous resolutions which you passed soon after the Colonization
Society came into existence, when the spontaneous language of your
hearts was embodied in the following sentiments:
"Whereas, our ancestors (not of choice) were the first successful
cultivators of the wilds of America, we their descendants, feel
ourselves entitled to participate in the blessings of her luxuriant
soil, which their blood and sweat manured, and that any measure, or
system of measures, having a tendency to banish us from her bosom, would
not only be cruel, but would be in direct violation of those principles
which have been the boast of this republic._Resolved_, That we view with deep abhorrence the unmerited stigma
attempted to be cast upon the reputation of the free people of color, by
the promoters of this measure, "that they are a dangerous and useless
part of the community."When in the state of disfranchisement in which
they live, in the hour of danger they ceased to remember their wrongs,
and rallied round the standard of their country._Resolved_, That we will never separate ourselves from the slave
population in this country: they are our brethren by the ties of
consanguinity, of suffering, and of wrong; and we feel that there is
more virtue in suffering privations with them, than enjoying fancied
advantages for a season._Resolved_, That having the strongest confidence in the justice of God,
and in the philanthropy of the free states, we cheerfully submit our
destinies to the guidance of Him who suffers not a sparrow to fall to
the ground without his special Providence."We praise the Lord, that while the white man slumbered over the wrongs
of his enslaved countrymen, or stretched out his hands to rivet the
bondman's chains, or to thrust his brother from his side, your sympathy
and your compassion, like that of the beneficent Redeemer, was wakeful
and active, and called forth from the depths of your souls the following
soul-stirring appeal.where were the hearts of Americans,
that they responded not to your call?"We _humbly_, respectfully, and fervently entreat and beseech your
disapprobation of the plan of colonization now offered by the
"American Society for Colonizing the Free People of Color of the
United States."Daniel moved to the bathroom.Here, in the city of Philadelphia, where the voice of
the suffering sons of Africa was first heard--where was first
commenced the work of abolition on which heaven has smiled (for it
could have success only from the great Master); let not a purpose be
assisted which will stay the cause of the entire abolition of slavery
in the United States, and which may defeat it altogether--which
proffers to those who do not ask for them what it calls _benefits_,
but which they consider _injuries_--and which must ensure to the
multitude, whose prayers can only reach you through us, _misery_,
_sufferings_, and _perpetual slavery_."Nor can we pass |
kitchen | Where is John? | Mary went to the bathroom.We do homage
to the virtue which preferred to endure affliction with the oppressed,
rather than to bask in the sunshine of worldly prosperity and popular
favor.But for the dignified opposition which you manifested--but for the
developments which you made of the real designs and fearful consequences
of colonization, your guilty country would probably have added to her
manifold transgressions against the descendants of Africa, the
transcendant crime of banishing from her shores those whom she has
deeply injured, and whom she is bound by every law of justice and of
mercy to cherish with peculiar tenderness.John went to the kitchen.But for your virtuous and
uncompromising hostility to the Colonization Society, a portion of our
countrymen might never have been disabused of the idle and fallacious
expectation, that this scheme would cure the moral evil of slavery, and
put an end to the horrible slave traffic carried on on the coast of
Africa.You saw that the root of the evil was in our own land, and that
the expatriation of the best part of our colored population, so far from
abolishing slavery, would render the condition of the enslaved tenfold
more hopeless.You saw that the only means of destroying the slave
trade, was to destroy the spirit of slavery; and how just have been
your conclusions, let the following testimonies declare--we extract
from an official communication to the secretary of the Navy, by
Captain Joseph J. Nicholson of the Navy:--"The slave trade, within the
last three years, has seriously injured the colony.Not only has it
diverted the industry of the natives, but it has effectually cut off
the communication with the interior.Daniel moved to the office.The war parties being in the habit
of plundering and kidnapping for slaves all whom they meet, whether
parties to the war or not, the daring of the slaver increases with the
demand for slaves, which could not of late be supplied by the usual
means; and within a year four slave factories have been established
almost within sight of the Colony."The following statement is taken from the "Colored American:"--A vessel
arrived at Halifax on the 12th ult., from Kingston, Jamaica, which
reports, that when two days out she fell in with a Spanish slaver bound
to Havana, having four hundred poor wretched beings on board, in a state
of starvation.The captain stated that
the poor creatures had, during the past month, subsisted on rice water."Had we not been blinded by interest and by prejudice, our reason might
have taught us that as long as the republic of the U. S. is a mart where
human flesh and souls of men are bought and sold, so long will European
and American cupidity furnish human merchandise for this detestable
commerce.Thousands of slaves have been introduced into the United
States through the island of Cuba, since the slave trade was declared
piracy by our national legislature.We stand before the world as a
nation of hypocrites, and you are equally concerned, as American
citizens, to labor to bring your country to a sense of her crimes.You
are equally concerned to do all that can be done, to arrest the progress
of the spirit of colonization, which takes our countrymen from their
native land without their consent, by giving them the cruel alternative
of slavery or banishment, breaks up the tenderest ties of nature and
casts them on a foreign soil.And what is our international slave trade,
but compulsory colonization."There have been transported--doubtless
without their consent--from the older slave states to Alabama,
Mississippi, Louisiana, and Arkansas, during the year 1836, the enormous
number of two hundred and fifty thousand slaves."--_Eman._
We deeply deplore the situation of our free colored citizens in the
slaveholding states, we sympathize in their trials, we know that the
oppressive laws enacted against them are to use the language of a writer
in the Richmond Whig of March 21, 1832, "A code of penal laws in many
respects worthy the temper of Draco, written indeed in blood.... By this
code information to them is proscribed, social intercourse interdicted,
religious worship in most of its forms prohibited."Daniel moved to the bathroom.We know that these
unrighteous decrees have driven many of our Southern brethren to a
foreign land in the hope of finding on the shores of heathen Africa, a
degree of liberty, independence and happiness which they saw no human
probability of enjoying in Christian America, but while we sympathize
with them in their sufferings, of which the free people of color in the
non-slaveholding States largely participate, yet we believe that patient
submission to these cruel inflictions, would have identified their
interests more with that portion of our countrymen who are toiling in
bonds, and would have advanced the cause of emancipation.The cruel
policy of the slaveholder to separate as much as possible the free
people of color from the slaves, to prevent all coalition between them,
to destroy all sympathy of feeling and oneness of interest, has
succeeded but too well--the free colored people of the South stand by
themselves, unacknowledged as men by their haughty superiors, unknown as
brethren by their down-trodden "countrymen in chains," a few of them
have even been tempted to join hands with the oppressor and rivet bonds
on those for whose deliverance they should have toiled and wept and
prayed.One of the results of this crafty policy has been, that many
have been seduced to abandon their country and their enslaved brethren,
to seek for themselves and their families an asylum from the
_oppression_ of Christian, Republican, America.These, however
unintentionally, have, we believe, fully answered the designs of the
subtle politicians of the South and have bound more firmly around the
quivering limbs of their kindred the manacles of slavery.--The desertion
of such has added strength to the Colonization interest, and cherished
the insane hope that all our valuable free colored citizens might in
time be transported to Africa.We, therefore, deprecate the departure of
every free colored American, _unless impelled by a sense of duty_,
because it is injurious to the interests of the slave and contributes to
foster in the bosoms of their white fellow-citizens that prejudice which
Satan created and which he is now using as one of the most powerful
engines to prevent the elevation of the free and the enfranchisement of
the enslaved.Our brethren and sisters in bondage have their eyes fixed with the
deepest intensity of interest upon their friends in the Northern States,
they are looking unto us as unto "Saviours who shall come up on Mount
Zion" to deliver them out of the hand of the spoiler.Jehovah has
entrusted us with a high and holy commission he has commanded us to
"Defend the poor and fatherless, to do justice to the afflicted and
needy, to deliver the poor and needy; to rid them out of the hand of the
wicked" and we believe God will bless our efforts in this righteous
cause, if we are willing to endure the reproach, the calumny, the
self-denial which is involved in this Reformation, but beloved friends
let us keep ever in mind, that unless we are men and women of prayer, we
shall not be able to effect what we profess so earnestly to desire,
viz., that God would melt the hearts of the slaveholders thro' the
powerful influence of his Holy Spirit that they may "let their captives
go," "not for price nor reward," but for their own peace sake and
because the love of God is shed abroad in their hearts.When the
Redeemer of men was about to ascend to the bosom of the Father and
resume the glory which he had with Him before the world was, he promised
his disciples that the power of the Holy Ghost should come upon them,
and that they should be witnesses for Him to the uttermost parts of the
earth."They all continued with
one accord in prayer and supplication with the women."Stimulated by the
confident expectation that Jesus would fulfil his gracious promise, they
poured out their hearts in fervent supplications, probably for strength
to do the work which he had appointed them unto, for they felt that
without Him they could do nothing and they consecrated themselves on the
altar of God, to the great and glorious enterprize of preaching the
unsearchable riches of Christ to a lost and perishing world.Have we
less precious promises in the Scriptures of Truth, may we not claim of
our God the blessing promised unto those who consider the poor, the Lord
will preserve them and keep them alive and they shall be blessed upon
the earth.Sandra travelled to the bathroom.Does not the language "Inasmuch as ye did it unto one of the
least of these my brethren, ye did it unto me," belong to all who are
rightly engaged in endeavoring to unloose the bondman's fetters?Shall
we not then do as the Apostles did, shall we not in view of the two
millions of heathen in our very midst, in view of the souls that are
going down in an almost unbroken phalanx to utter perdition, continue in
prayer and supplication that God will grant us the supplies of his
Spirit to prepare us for that work which he has given us to do.Shall
not the wail of the mother as she surrenders her only child to the grasp
of the ruthless kidnapper, or the trader in human blood, animate our
devotions.Shall not the manifold crimes and horrors of slavery excite
more ardent outpourings at the throne of grace to grant repentance to
our guilty country and permit us to aid in preparing the way for the
glorious second Advent of the Messiah, by preaching deliverance to the
captives and the opening of the prison doors to those who are bound.But not alone for the down-trodden slave should we be engaged to labor,
our country from Maine to Florida is more or less connected with, and
involved in, the awful sin of slavery, "the blood of the poor innocents
is found in our skirts," the free states are partakers with those who
rob God of his creatures, for although most of them have nominally no
slaves on their soil, they do deliver unto slaveholders the servant that
is escaped from his master, in direct violation of the command of
Jehovah "Hide the outcasts: bewray not him that wandereth.--Let mine
outcasts dwell with thee; be thou a covert to them from the face of the
spoiler."--The unhappy fugitive goaded almost to madness by oppression
finds no resting place for the sole of his foot until he reaches the icy
shores of Canada.An exile from his native land, because his soul cannot
bow down to the unbridled passions of his fellow-worm; because he nobly
dares to take the freedom which Jehovah gave him with the first
inspiration of his vital breath, because rather than be a slave he
braves the storm and plunges through the flood and suffers hunger and
thirst and nakedness and cold.For thus magnanimously recoiling from
unjust usurpation he is branded as a fugitive, and hunted through our
free states with all the fierceness of savage barbarity, while no
measures are adopted to procure the repeal of these unrighteous decrees.Oh when in this proud republic God maketh inquisition for blood, when he
remembereth the cry of the humble--where shall we appear?will not the
language be uttered against us "the land is full of blood; the iniquity
is exceeding great, mine eye shall not spare, neither will I have pity,
but I will recompense their way upon their head."Nor is the church less corrupt than the state, she exhibits now just
such a departure from primitive purity as is described by the prophet
Ezekiel in speaking of the Jewish Church.--"Thou didst trust in thine
own beauty, because of thy renown.Thou hast also taken thy fair jewels
of my gold and my silver which I had given thee, and madest to thyself
images of men, and didst commit whoredom with them.And tookest thy
broidered garments and covered them, and thou hast set mine oil and mine
incense before them."Is it not the fear and the _idolatry of man_ which
makes so many of those who fill the sacred office of ministers of Jesus
Christ stand dumb on the watch-tower; so many unclose their sacrilegious
lips to stigmatize the God of Love as the founder of the system of
American slavery--what but the deep corruption of the church could tempt
her to cast over this bloody moloch her broidered garment, and try by
snatching a few jewels to adorn her diadem from Ceylon and the Sandwich
Islands, from Burmah, and from the Rocky Mountains, to turn away the
public gaze from the leprosy which consumes her vitals.Let us not be deceived by the seeming prosperity of our country.Mary travelled to the kitchen.Babylon
was filled with gold and with silver, and Belshazzars impious feast was
crowned with wine and luxurious delicacies, yet even then the
hand-writing on the wall was appointed, the doom of that great empire
was decided in the court of heaven, and the irreversible sentence was
soon pronounced upon her haughty monarch, "Thou hast lifted up thyself,
God hath numbered thy kingdom and finished it."Let us not be deceived
by the fair appearances of the church, her efforts, and her revivals.Slavery is the master sin of our country; it is twined around the horns
of the altar--it is couched beneath the table on which are laid the
sacramental elements--it rises rampant in our pulpits--its spirit may
be seen stalking with unblushing effrontery through almost every temple
of benevolence, every seminary of learning,[2] every Church of God
where the white and the colored are as carefully separated as though
the one was washed and made white in the blood of the Lamb, and the
other was an unclean thing, whose very touch was contamination.We feel
constrained to enter our solemn protest against this unrighteous
practice in all its forms.--"God has created of ONE BLOOD all the
nations to dwell on all the face of the earth," and whoever interposes
a barrier to their living as brethren, breaks the harmony which He has
established.Let the Church in America deck herself as she may with the
Lord's jewels, so long as she cherishes the Hydra-headed monster
slavery in her bosom, so long will her oblations on heathen shores be
vain, her incense an abomination, her solemn meetings a mockery.Our
souls are drawn out in tender sympathy to our dear brothers and sisters
who are the victims of this cruel prejudice, may you experience that
peace which the world can neither give nor take away, and rejoice in the
promise that the last shall be first.[2] We mention as an example worthy of imitation the noble
individuals who took the lead at Lane Seminary in contending
for the rights of our colored citizens, and when their work
there was accomplished, went among their colored brethren
and sisters, and met them as equals bearing the impress of
that God who stampt his image on his creature man.If each
of our seminaries could boast of such champions of Human
Rights, our colleges and schools might soon be regenerated,
and our temples of science be thrown open to all our
citizens irrespective of color or condition.Let us turn our eyes on God's chosen people and learn a lesson fraught
with fearful instruction.--As the time of their downfall approached,
when for their manifold transgressions they were to be blotted out for a
season, as a nation, God multiplied the number of his witnesses among
them.Most of the prophets whose writings have come down to us, lived
either a short time before, or were cotemporary with the destruction of
Jerusalem by Nebuchadnezzar; the warning voices of Jeremiah and Ezekiel
were raised at this juncture, to save if possible their guilty
nation--with the women as well as the men they expostulated, and
admonished them of impending judgments, but the people scornfully
replied to Jeremiah--"As for the word that thou hast spoken unto us in
the name of the Lord, we will not hearken unto thee, but we will
certainly do whatsoever thing goeth forth out of our mouth.""Therefore,
thus saith the Lord--ye have not hearkened unto me in proclaiming
liberty every one to his brother, and every one to his neighbor--behold
I proclaim a liberty for you saith the Lord, to the sword, to the
pestilence and to the famine."Are we not virtually as a nation adopting |
garden | Where is Mary? | Shall we not in view of those things use every laudable means
to awaken our beloved country from the slumbers of death, and baptize
all our efforts with tears and with prayers, that God may bless them.Then should our labor fail to accomplish the end for which we pray; we
shall stand acquitted at the bar of Jehovah, and although we may share
in the national calamities which await unrepented sins, yet that blessed
approval will be ours.--"Well done good and faithful servants, enter ye
into the joy of your Lord."We are aware that few of our colored brethren and sisters are actively,
or directly promoting the continuation of slavery; we mourn indeed that
a single instance can be adduced, of one colored person betraying
another into the fangs of those merciless wretches who go about seeking
whom they may devour; we mourn, not because the act is more diabolical
on account of the complexion, but because our enemies seize every such
instance of moral delinquency, to prove that the people of color are
lost to the feelings of humanity for each other.Our hearts have been filled with sorrow at the transactions which have
lately disgraced the city of New York; the forcible seizure and
consigning to cruel bondage native American citizens.In the emporium of
our commerce, in a city filled with Bibles and with churches, we behold
the revolting spectacle of rational and immortal beings, arraigned
before their fellow men, not for any crimes which they have committed,
but because they dare to call their vital breath their own, and to take
possession of that body, soul, and mind, which their Creator gave them.We behold them manacled and guarded by officers armed with weapons of
death--guiltless of crime and accused of none, but forced to prove that
they are men and not beasts.We marvel, as we behold these reproachful
scenes, that the God of Justice has held back his avenging sword.--"Thus
saith the Lord--execute judgment in the morning, and deliver him that is
spoiled out of the hand of the oppressor, lest my fury go out like fire
that none can quench it, because of the evil of your doings."But although we believe that the accumulated wrongs of our colored
friends are had in remembrance before God, and that he will assuredly
visit this nation in judgment unless she repent, yet we entreat you in
the name of the Lord Jesus, to forbear any attempts violently to
rescue your brethren.Such attempts can only end in disappointment;
they infuriate public sentiment still more against you, and furnish
your blood-thirsty adversaries with a plausible pretext, to treat you
with cruelty.They bring upon all your brethren unmerited odium, and
render doubly difficult the duties of those who have been called by
Jehovah to assert the colored man's right to freedom, and to vindicate
his character from those calumnies which have been heaped upon him.Independent, however, of all these reasons, we beseech you to possess
your souls in patience, because present duty is unresisting submission,
in accordance with the apostolic precepts.--"Be subject not only for
wrath, but for conscience sake.""For this is thankworthy, if a man for
conscience toward God endure grief, suffering wrongfully.""For even
hereunto are we called, because Christ also suffered for us, leaving us
an example that we should follow his steps."Let us keep in mind, that Jesus Christ was arraigned before an earthly
judge, that he endured indignity, violence and contempt.Every innocent
man who is brought before a human tribunal, and condemned to perpetual
bondage, when his judge can find no fault in him, may be regarded as the
representative of Him, who replied to Pilate, "Thou couldst have no
power against me, except it were given thee from above: therefore he
that delivered me unto thee hath the greater sin."Suffer us to mingle
our sighs, and our tears with yours over these heart-rending scenes,
these ruthless inflictions of nameless and unutterable woes; but let us
remember, that when the Redeemer of men was taken by a band of armed
ruffians, he acted out his own sublime precept--"Resist not evil;" and
when Peter with intemperate zeal cut off the servant's ear, Jesus healed
the wound, and commanded his disciple to put up his sword again into its
place.If we recur to the history of God's chosen people, whom he permitted to
be in bondage in the land of Egypt, we shall find that it was not when
Moses killed the Egyptian because he smote an Israelite, that the God of
the oppressed arose for their deliverance.No, dear friends, it was when
"the children of Israel sighed by reason of the bondage, and they cried,
and their cry came up unto God by reason of the bondage.And God heard
their groaning and God remembered his covenant."Shall we distrust him
now that his covenant of mercy has been sealed with the blood of his
only begotten son--shall we resort to weapons forged by Satan, and used
by our enemies, when the Lord God omnipotent is our king, and it
behoveth his subjects to be "shod with the preparation of the gospel of
peace, praying always with all prayer, and supplication in the Spirit."The eyes of the community are fixed upon you with an intensity of
interest; many watch for your halting, saying, "peradventure they will
be enticed and we shall prevail against them."Many while they have a
kind of sentimental desire for your welfare, are anxious to keep you as
they term it, in your proper place, or in other words, are so much under
the dominion of prejudice, that they shrink at the thought of receiving
you as brethren beloved; they try to persuade themselves that God has
created us with an instinctive alienation from each other, and excuse
their own sin, by casting a reproach on the character of Jehovah; they
repel the idea that you are in every respect our equals, and
pertinaciously deny you the privileges of social, religious, and
domestic intercourse.We can feel for them, for most, if not all of us
have had to combat these feelings, and such of us as have overcome them,
have abundant cause to sing hallelujah to our God, and bless his holy
name for our abolition principles; they have opened a source of heavenly
joy in our bosoms, which we would not exchange for all the gold of
Ophir.Let us then cherish the apostolic precept, "Brethren if a man be
overtaken in a fault, ye which are spiritual restore such an one in the
spirit of meekness."There is another class beloved friends, who are
watching you with the most tender solicitude, whose daily petitions for
themselves are mingled with supplications for you, who feel poignantly
the indignities which are heaped upon you, who ardently desire your
elevation in every way, who rejoice that they are found worthy to suffer
with you, who feel that their interests are one with yours as
Christians, and as Americans, and who supplicate the Father of Mercies
for an increase of that hallowed feeling, which receives and welcomes
you with joy as brethren and sisters dearly beloved, and loses in the
sense of your manhood, in the remembrance that we are all one in Christ
Jesus, those unhallowed and factitious distinctions which are eating out
the very vitals of Christianity.This class long for that blessed and
glorious era, when the brother of low degree will rejoice in that he is
exalted, and the brother of high degree in that he is made low; because
then and not till then the command may go forth to the Church of Christ
in our land "Arise, shine for thy light is come, and the glory of the
Lord is risen upon thee."In contemplating the abolition of slavery, we feel that you are equally
concerned with ourselves, and we entreat your co-operation, believing
that you can and will labor in it as efficiently as any portion of the
community.We ask you in the name of Him whose precious blood was shed
for us, to come up to the help of the Lord, in whose work we are
engaged.We ask you, in the name of bleeding humanity, to assist in this
labor of love.We ask you, for the sake of the down-trodden and defiled
image of God, to arise for the help of the poor, and aid in restoring
our brother and our sister to that exalted station, only a little lower
than the angels, which their gracious Creator assigned them.True--obloquy, reproach, and peril, must be encountered by all who stem
the torrent of popular iniquity, the tide of supercilious prejudice, and
the arrogant pretensions of unfounded superiority; but these we can
endure, and count it joy.We are sensible that our brethren of color
have a more difficult and delicate part to act in this reformation, than
their white fellow-citizens; but we confidently believe, that as their
day is, so their strength will be; and we commend them and the cause of
human rights, in which we are engaged, to Him who is able to save unto
the uttermost all who come unto God by Him.Sir, here is a friend of mine, a very clever man, who would be
glad to speak with you.Mary went to the bathroom.Gorgibus; I must go and see my patients.I will not presume to take your place of honour, sir.Gorgibus has told me of your merit and
talents, I had the greatest longing in the world to be introduced to
you, and I have taken the liberty of addressing you on that account.I
hope you will not think it too bold.One must acknowledge that those
who excel in any great science are worthy of high praise; particularly
those whose calling is that of doctor, as much on account of its
utility, as because it is the source of several other sciences.Hence
it is a difficult one to know perfectly, and Hippocrates therefore
says truly in his first treatise: _Vita brevis, ars vero longa,
occasio autem praeceps, experimentum periculosum, judicium, difficile._
Sgan._Ficile tantina pota baril cambustibus._
Law.You are not one of those doctors who only study the medicine
called rational or dogmatic, and I believe that you practise it every
day with great success,--_experientia magistra rerum_.The first men
who practised medicine were held in such consideration because of that
wonderful science, that they were numbered among the gods on account
of the marvellous cures they performed every day.Not that any one
should despise a doctor who has not given back health to his patient,
since health does not altogether depend on his remedies or his
knowledge: _interdum docta plus valet arte malum_.Sir, I am afraid I
am importunate; I must leave you, with the hope that next time we meet
I shall have the honour of conversing with you at greater length.Had he stopped a
moment longer I would have made him converse upon a lofty and sublime
subject.But now I must leave you (Gorgibus _offers him money_).I never take any money, I am not
a mercenary man (_takes the money_).John went to the kitchen.(_Exit_ Sganarelle; Gorgibus _goes into his own house_.)I wonder what Sganarelle has done; I have no news from him; I wish I
knew where to meet him (Sganarelle _returns in his usual dress_).Sganarelle, and what have you done since I saw you?Daniel moved to the office.Scene IX.--Valere, Sganarelle.I have done so well, that Gorgibus
really believes me to be a clever doctor.I went to his house, I
ordered him to send his daughter to breathe fresh air, and she is now
in an apartment at the bottom of their garden, so far from the old
man, that you can go and see her without fear of being disturbed.how happy you make me; I shall go at once to see her, without
losing any more time.That old fellow Gorgibus must be a downright fool to allow
himself to be deceived in that fashion (_seeing_ Gorgibus).well, here's a pretty upset for my doctorship!But I must try and take him in once more.Scene X.--Sganarelle, Gorgibus.You see in me a poor fellow driven to
despair.Do you know a doctor who has only lately come to this town,
and who performs wonderful cures?Yes, I know him; he has just left my house.I am his brother, sir; we are twins, and we resemble each other
like two peas, and are often taken the one for the other.Dev--... deuce take me,[4] if I did not make the mistake myself;
and what is your name?Narcissus, sir, at your service.You must know that while in his
study I upset two bottles full of essence, which were on the edge of
his table.Will you believe that he was so furious with me, that he
actually drove me out of the house, and said he would never see me
again; so that here I am a poor destitute fellow, without friends,
without help, without anything at all.Don't distress yourself; I will make your peace with your
brother.I am his friend, and I promise you that he shall forgive you.I will speak to him the first time I meet him.I shall be much obliged to you, Mr.Scene XI--Sganarelle (_dressed as a doctor_), Gorgibus.One must say, that when patients will not follow the advice of
the doctor, but give themselves up to excesses...
Gor.Sir, I have just met your brother, who is extremely sorry to...
Sgan.I assure you that he is so distressed to have put you in a
passion, that...
Sgan.sir, do you wish to drive the poor fellow to despair?Just fancy that scoundrel's impudence
to go and ask you to make his peace for him.I beg of you not to speak
of him to me.In Heaven's name, sir, do it for my sake!If it is in my power to
do anything to oblige you in return, I will do it with all my heart.I
gave him my word, and...
Sgan.You entreat me so much, that although I swore I would never
forgive him, here, shake hands, I forgive him.I assure you that I
impose a great restraint upon myself, and that I must have great
regard for you.(Gorgibus _goes into his house; exit_ Sganarelle.)Scene XII.--Valere, Sganarelle.I am forced to acknowledge that I should never have thought that
Sganarelle could have done so well.(Sganarelle _returns in his
servant's dress_) Ah!my dear fellow, under what obligation I am to
you!Yes, this is all very well, but Gorgibus met me, and if it had
not been for a trick I thought of on the spur of the moment, all would
have been discovered, (_seeing_ Gorgibus) Run away; here he is.Daniel moved to the bathroom.Scene XIII.--Gorgibus, Sganarelle.I was looking for you everywhere to tell you that I have spoken
to your brother.Sandra travelled to the bathroom.He has promised me that he will forgive you, but in
order that I may be more sure of it, I want him to embrace you in my
presence; step into my house, I will go and fetch him.Gorgibus, I don't think you could find him now;
besides, I should not like to stop in your house; I dread his anger
too much.you will stay there, for I shall lock you in.I am going
now to fetch your brother; fear nothing; I assure you that he is no
longer angry.The clouds are very dark, and I greatly fear that, if they
break, they will rain hard blows on my back; or that by a prescription
stronger even than that of all the doctors, they will apply a royal
cautery[5] to my shoulders.Since I have
done so much, I must go on to the end.Yes, yes; I must get clear of
all this, and show that Sganarelle is the king of rogues.(Sganarelle
_jumps out of the window and runs away._)
Scene XIV.--Gros-Rene, Gorgibus, Sganarelle.How people
jump out of the windows in this place!Mary travelled to the kitchen.I must just stop
here and see what comes of it.Mary went to the garden.(_Hides._)
Gor.Sandra moved to the bedroom.I cannot |
kitchen | Where is Sandra? | (_seeing_ _Sganarelle returning with his doctor's gown_) Ah!It is not sufficient, sir, to have forgiven your brother, I beg
you to give me the satisfaction of seeing you embrace him.He is in my
house; I was looking everywhere for you, to ask you to make your peace
with him in my presence.Gorgibus; is it not sufficient that I should
have forgiven him?Do it for my sake, sir, I pray.I can refuse you nothing: tell him to come down (_while_
Gorgibus _goes into the house by the door_, Sganarelle _goes in by the
window_).Here is your brother waiting for you yonder;
he has promised me that he will do all you like.Gorgibus, I beg of you to make him come
here; let me see him, and ask him, in private, to forgive me, for no
doubt he would treat me roughly, and would shame me before everybody.Mary went to the bathroom.(Gorgibus_ comes out of his house by the door_; Sganarelle _by the
window_.)Sir, he says that he is thoroughly
ashamed, and he begs you to come in, so that he may ask you in private
to forgive him.John went to the kitchen.Here is the key, you may come in.I beg of you not to
refuse me, but give me this satisfaction.You will hear how I will
speak to him.so you are here,
scoundrel!----My brother, I beg your pardon, I assure you it was not
my fault.----Profligate wretch!I will teach you to dare importune Mr.Gorgibus, and plague him with your absurdities!----Ah!my brother...
----Hold your tongue, I tell you.--I would not disoblige... ----...
Be silent, rascal.----
Gr.-Re.Who do you think is in your house at present?it is the Doctor with his brother Narcissus; they have had a
quarrel, but they are making it up.Deuce take it, if they are more than one!(_within the house_) Drunkard that you are!I will teach you how
to behave.--He may well look down!He feels he has done wrong, the
good-for-nothing scoundrel!Ah, the hypocrite, how he pretends to be
good!Sir, do ask him, just for fun, to make his
brother show himself at the window.Sir, pray make your brother show himself at the window.Daniel moved to the office.He is unworthy of being seen by honourable
people; and, besides, I could not bear to have him by the side of me.Sir, do not refuse me this favour, after all those you have
granted me.Gorgibus, you have so much power
over me that I can refuse you nothing.Daniel moved to the bathroom.(_after having disappeared one moment, he reappears as a valet._) Mr.Gorgibus, I am so much indebted to you.(_Disappears, and reappears
again as doctor._) Well, did you see that picture of drunkenness?I know they are but one, and to prove it, tell
him that you want to see them both together.But grant me the favour of showing yourself with him, and of
embracing him at the window before me.It is a thing I would refuse to any one but
you; but, to show you that I would do anything for your sake, I
consent, though with difficulty, and I wish that he should first ask
you to forgive him for the trouble he has given you.--Yes, Mr.Gorgibus, I beg your pardon for having troubled you so much; and I
promise you, my brother, in the presence of Mr.Gorgibus, to be so
careful in future that you will never have reason to complain.I beg of
you not to think any more of what is past (_he kisses his hat and his
ruff, which he has put at the end of his elbow_).(_coming out of the house as doctor_).I give you back the key of
your house, sir.I do not wish this scoundrel to come down with me, for
he makes me ashamed of him.I would not, for anything, that he should
be seen with me in this town, where I have some reputation.You can
send him away when you please.I wish you good morning, and am your
humble servant _(feigns to go, but, after having thrown down his gown,
enters the house by the window_).I must go, and set this poor fellow free.To say the truth, if his
brother has forgiven him, it is not before ill-treating him very much
(_goes into his house, and comes out with Sganarelle as a servant_).I thank you very much, sir, for the trouble you have taken and
the kindness you have shown me.I shall be obliged to you for it all my
life.(_who has picked up_ Sganarelle's _gown_).Sandra travelled to the bathroom.There is the knave who played the doctor and deceived you; and,
while he is deceiving you and playing you off, Valere and your daughter
are together, doing all they like.Why, sir, what good will it do you to hang me?Hear a word or
two, I beg of you.It is true that, thanks to my stratagem, my master
is with your daughter; but, while serving him, I have done you no
wrong.It is a good match for her, both as to birth and money.Believe
me, do not make a scandal which would turn to your shame; but send this
knave here to the devil along with Villebrequin.Scene XV.--Valere, Lucile, Gorgibus, Sganarelle.I forgive you; and, on seeing such a good son-in-law, think myself
happily deceived by Sganarelle.Now, let us all go to the wedding, and
drink the health of the company.THE END
FOOTNOTES
[1] The actor seems in this place to have been left to add any nonsense
that came into his head.[2] Compare 'Le Depit Amoureux,' Act i. So.[3] A scrap from 'Le Cid' of Corneille.[4] _Je dedonne au diable_ is apparently a euphemism for _Je donne au
diable._ In French, compare _parbleu, corbleu_, &c., and _deuce,
zounds, egad_, &c., in English.[5] _I.e._ brand.AT GALWAY RACES
Out yonder, where the race course is,
Delight makes all of the one mind,
Riders upon the swift horses,
The field that closes in behind:
We, too, had good attendance once,
Hearers and hearteners of the work;
Aye, horsemen for companions,
Before the merchant and the clerk
Breathed on the world with timid breath.Mary travelled to the kitchen.Sing on: sometime, and at some new moon,
We'll learn that sleeping is not death,
Hearing the whole earth change its tune,
Its flesh being wild, and it again
Crying aloud as the race course is,
And we find hearteners among men
That ride upon horses.A FRIEND'S ILLNESS
Sickness brought me this
Thought, in that scale of his:
Why should I be dismayed
Though flame had burned the whole
World, as it were a coal,
Now I have seen it weighed
Against a soul?Mary went to the garden.ALL THINGS CAN TEMPT ME
All things can tempt me from this craft of verse:
One time it was a woman's face, or worse--
The seeming needs of my fool-driven land;
Now nothing but comes readier to the hand
Than this accustomed toil.When I was young,
I had not given a penny for a song
Did not the poet sing it with such airs
That one believed he had a sword upstairs;
Yet would be now, could I but have my wish,
Colder and dumber and deafer than a fish.THE YOUNG MAN'S SONG
I whispered, "I am too young,"
And then, "I am old enough,"
Wherefore I threw a penny
To find out if I might love;
"Go and love, go and love, young man,
If the lady be young and fair,"
Ah, penny, brown penny, brown penny,
I am looped in the loops of her hair.Oh love is the crooked thing,
There is nobody wise enough
To find out all that is in it,
For he would be thinking of love
Till the stars had run away,
And the shadows eaten the moon;
Ah, penny, brown penny, brown penny,
One cannot begin it too soon.THE GREEN HELMET
_An Heroic Farce_
THE PERSONS OF THE PLAY
LAEGAIRE LAEGAIRE'S WIFE
CONALL CONALL'S WIFE
CUCHULAIN LAEG, _Cuchulain's chariot-driver_
EMER RED MAN, _A Spirit_
Horse Boys and Scullions, Black Men, etc.THE GREEN HELMET
_An Heroic Farce_
SCENE: _A house made of logs.There are two windows at the back and
a door which cuts off one of the corners of the room.Through the
door one can see low rocks which make the ground outside higher than
it is within, and beyond the rocks a misty moon-lit sea.Through the
windows one can see nothing but the sea.There is a great chair at
the opposite side to the door, and in front of it a table with cups
and a flagon of ale.Here and there are stools._
_At the Abbey Theatre the house is orange red and the chairs and
tables and flagons black, with a slight purple tinge which is not
clearly distinguishable from the black.Sandra moved to the bedroom.The rocks are black with a
few green touches.The sea is green and luminous, and all the
characters except the RED MAN and the Black Men are dressed in
various shades of green, one or two with touches of purple which
look nearly black.The Black Men all wear dark purple and have eared
caps, and at the end their eyes should look green from the reflected
light of the sea.He is very tall,
and his height increased by horns on the Green Helmet.The effect is
intentionally violent and startling._
LAEGAIRE
What is that?I had thought that I saw, though but in the wink of an
eye,
A cat-headed man out of Connaught go pacing and spitting by;
But that could not be.CONALL
You have dreamed it--there's nothing out there.I killed them all before daybreak--I hoked them out of their lair;
I cut off a hundred heads with a single stroke of my sword,
And then I danced on their graves and carried away their hoard.LAEGAIRE
Does anything stir on the sea?CONALL
Not even a fish or a gull:
I can see for a mile or two, now that the moon's at the full.[_A distant shout._]
LAEGAIRE
Ah--there--there is someone who calls us.CONALL
But from the landward side,
And we have nothing to fear that has not come up from the tide;
The rocks and the bushes cover whoever made that noise,
But the land will do us no harm.LAEGAIRE
It was like Cuchulain's voice.CONALL
But that's an impossible thing.LAEGAIRE
An impossible thing indeed.CONALL
For he will never come home, he has all that he could need
In that high windy Scotland--good luck in all that he does.Here neighbour wars on neighbour and why there is no man knows,
And if a man is lucky all wish his luck away,
And take his good name from him between a day and a day.LAEGAIRE
I would he'd come for all that, and make his young wife know
That though she may be his wife, she has no right to go
Before your wife and my wife, as she would have gone last night
Had they not caught at her dress, and pulled her as was right;
And she makes light of us though our wives do all that they can.Sandra journeyed to the kitchen.She spreads her tail like a peacock and praises none but her man.Daniel travelled to the garden.CONALL
A man in a long green cloak that covers him up to the chin
Comes down through the rocks and hazels.LAEGAIRE
Cry out that he cannot come in.CONALL
He must look for his dinner elsewhere, for no one alive shall stop
Where a shame must alight on us two before the dawn is up.LAEGAIRE
No man on the ridge of the world must ever know that but us two.CONALL
[_Outside door_]
Go away, go away, go away.YOUNG MAN
[_Outside door_]
I will go when the night is through
And I have eaten and slept and drunk to my heart's delight.CONALL
A law has been made that none shall sleep in this house to-night.YOUNG MAN
Who made that law?CONALL
We made it, and who has so good a right?Who else has to keep the house from the Shape-Changers till day?YOUNG MAN
Then I will unmake the law, so get you out of the way.[_He pushes past CONALL and goes into house_]
CONALL
I thought that no living man could have pushed me from the door,
Nor could any living man do it but for the dip in the floor;
And had I been rightly ready there's no man living could do it,
Dip or no dip.LAEGAIRE
Go out--if you have your wits, go out,
A stone's throw further on you will find a big house where
Our wives will give you supper, and you'll sleep sounder there,
For it's a luckier house.YOUNG MAN
I'll eat and sleep where I will.LAEGAIRE
Go out or I will make you.YOUNG MAN
[_Forcing up LAEGAIRE'S arm, passing him and putting his shield on
the wall over the chair_]
Not till I have drunk my fill.But may some dog defend me for a cat of wonder's up.Laegaire and Conall are here, the flagon full to the top,
And the cups--
LAEGAIRE
It is Cuchulain.CUCHULAIN
The cups are dry as a bone.[_He sits on chair and drinks_]
CONALL
Go into Scotland again, or where you will, but begone
From this unlucky country that was made when the devil spat.CUCHULAIN
If I lived here a hundred years, could a worse thing come than that
Laegaire and Conall should know me and bid me begone to my face?CONALL
We bid you begone from a house that has fallen on shame and disgrace.CUCHULAIN
I am losing patience, Conall--I find you stuffed with pride,
The flagon full to the brim, the front door standing wide;
You'd put me off with words, but the whole thing's plain enough,
You are waiting for some message to bring you to war or love
In that old secret country beyond the wool-white waves |
garden | Where is Daniel? | LAEGAIRE
Better tell it all out to the end;
He was born to luck in the cradle, his good luck may amend
The bad luck we were born to.CONALL
I'll lay the whole thing bare.You saw the luck that he had when he pushed in past me there.LAEGAIRE
Not even a fish or a gull.CONALL
You were gone but a little while.We were there and the ale-cup full.We were half drunk and merry, and midnight on the stroke
When a wide, high man came in with a red foxy cloak,
With half-shut foxy eyes and a great laughing mouth,
And he said when we bid him drink, that he had so great a drouth
He could drink the sea.CUCHULAIN
I thought he had come from one of you
Out of some Connaught rath, and would lap up milk and mew;
But if he so loved water I have the tale awry.CONALL
You would not be so merry if he were standing by,
For when we had sung or danced as he were our next of kin
He promised to show us a game, the best that ever had been;
And when we had asked what game, he answered, "Why, whip off my head!Then one of you two stoop down, and I'll whip off his," he said."A head for a head," he said, "that is the game that I play."CUCHULAIN
How could he whip off a head when his own had been whipped away?CONALL
We told him it over and over, and that ale had fuddled his wit,
But he stood and laughed at us there, as though his sides would split,
Till I could stand it no longer, and whipped off his head at a blow,
Being mad that he did not answer, and more at his laughing so,
And there on the ground where it fell it went on laughing at me.LAEGAIRE
Till he took it up in his hands--
CONALL
And splashed himself into the sea.CUCHULAIN
I have imagined as good when I've been as deep in the cup.LAEGAIRE
You never did.CUCHULAIN
And believed it.CONALL
Cuchulain, when will you stop
Boasting of your great deeds, and weighing yourself with us two,
And crying out to the world whatever we say or do,
That you've said or done a better?--Nor is it a drunkard's tale,
Though we said to ourselves at first that it all came out of the ale,
And thinking that if we told it we should be a laughing-stock,
Swore we should keep it secret.LAEGAIRE
But twelve months upon the clock.CONALL
A twelvemonth from the first time.LAEGAIRE
And the jug full up to the brim:
For we had been put from our drinking by the very thought of him.CONALL
We stood as we're standing now.LAEGAIRE
The horns were as empty.CONALL
When
He ran up out of the sea with his head on his shoulders again.CUCHULAIN
Why, this is a tale worth telling.CONALL
And he called for his debt and his right,
And said that the land was disgraced because of us two from that night
If we did not pay him his debt.LAEGAIRE
What is there to be said
When a man with a right to get it has come to ask for your head?CONALL
If you had been sitting there you had been silent like us.LAEGAIRE
He said that in twelve months more he would come again to this house
And ask his debt again.Daniel moved to the garden.CONALL
He would have followed after if we had run away.LAEGAIRE
Will he tell every mother's son that we have broken our word?CUCHULAIN
Whether he does or does not we'll drive him out with the sword,
And take his life in the bargain if he but dare to scoff.CONALL
How can you fight with a head that laughs when you've whipped it off?LAEGAIRE
Or a man that can pick it up and carry it out in his hand?CONALL
He is coming now, there's a splash and a rumble along the strand
As when he came last.CUCHULAIN
Come, and put all your backs to the door.[_A tall, red-headed, red-cloaked man stands upon the threshold
against the misty green of the sea; the ground, higher without than
within the house, makes him seem taller even than he is.He leans
upon a great two-handed sword_]
LAEGAIRE
It is too late to shut it, for there he stands once more
And laughs like the sea.CUCHULAIN
Old herring--You whip off heads!Why, then
Whip off your own, for it seems you can clap it on again.Or else go down in the sea, go down in the sea, I say,
Find that old juggler Manannan and whip his head away;
Or the Red Man of the Boyne, for they are of your own sort,
Or if the waves have vexed you and you would find a sport
Of a more Irish fashion, go fight without a rest
A caterwauling phantom among the winds of the west.If there's no sword can harm you, I've an older trick to play,
An old five-fingered trick to tumble you out of the place;
I am Sualtim's son Cuchulain--what, do you laugh in my face?RED MAN
So you too think me in earnest in wagering poll for poll!A drinking joke and a gibe and a juggler's feat, that is all,
To make the time go quickly--for I am the drinker's friend,
The kindest of all Shape-Changers from here to the world's end,
The best of all tipsy companions.And now I bring you a gift:
I will lay it there on the ground for the best of you all to lift,
[_He lays his Helmet on the ground_]
And wear upon his own head, and choose for yourselves the best.Laegaire and Conall are brave, but they were afraid of my jest.Well, maybe I jest too grimly when the ale is in the cup.There, I'm forgiven now--
[_Then in a more solemn voice as he goes out_]
Let the bravest take it up.[_CONALL takes up Helmet and gazes at it with delight_]
LAEGAIRE
[_Singing, with a swaggering stride_]
Laegaire is best;
Between water and hill,
He fought in the west
With cat heads, until
At the break of day
All fell by his sword,
And he carried away
Their hidden hoard.[_He seizes the Helmet_]
CONALL
Give it me, for what did you find in the bag
But the straw and the broken delf and the bits of dirty rag
You'd taken for good money?CUCHULAIN
No, no, but give it me.[_He takes Helmet_]
CONALL
The Helmet's mine or Laegaire's--you're the youngest of us three.CUCHULAIN
[_Filling Helmet with ale_]
I did not take it to keep it--the Red Man gave it for one,
But I shall give it to all--to all of us three or to none;
That is as you look upon it--we will pass it to and fro,
And time and time about, drink out of it and so
Stroke into peace this cat that has come to take our lives.Now it is purring again, and now I drink to your wives,
And I drink to Emer, my wife.[_A great noise without and shouting_]
Why, what in God's name is that noise?CONALL
What else but the charioteers and the kitchen and stable boys
Shouting against each other, and the worst of all is your own,
That chariot-driver, Laeg, and they'll keep it up till the dawn,
And there's not a man in the house that will close his eyes to-night,
Or be able to keep them from it, or know what set them to fight.[_A noise of horns without_]
There, do you hear them now?such hatred has each for each
They have taken the hunting horns to drown one other's speech
For fear the truth may prevail.--Here's your good health and long life,
And, though she be quarrelsome, good health to Emer, your wife.[_The charioteers, Stable Boys and Kitchen Boys come running in.They carry great horns, ladles and the like_]
LAEG
I am Laeg, Cuchulain's driver, and my master's cock of the yard.ANOTHER
Conall would scatter his feathers.[_Confused murmurs_]
LAEGAIRE
[_To_ CUCHULAIN]
No use, they won't hear a word.CONALL
They'll keep it up till the dawn.ANOTHER
It is Laegaire that is the best,
For he fought with cats in Connaught while Conall took his rest
And drained his ale pot.ANOTHER
Laegaire--what does a man of his sort
Care for the like of us!ANOTHER
It was all mere luck at the best.ANOTHER
But Conall, I say--
ANOTHER
Let me speak.LAEG
You'd be dumb if the cock of the yard would but open his beak.ANOTHER
Before your cock was born, my master was in the fight.LAEG
Go home and praise your grand-dad.They took to the horns for spite,
For I said that no cock of your sort had been born since the fight began.ANOTHER
Conall has got it, the best man has got it, and I am his man.CUCHULAIN
Who was it started this quarrel?A STABLE BOY
It was Laeg.ANOTHER
It was Laeg done it all.LAEG
A high, wide, foxy man came where we sat in the hall,
Getting our supper ready, with a great voice like the wind,
And cried that there was a helmet, or something of the kind,
That was for the foremost man upon the ridge of the earth.So I cried your name through the hall,
[_The others cry out and blow horns, partly drowning the rest of his
speech_]
but they denied its worth,
Preferring Laegaire or Conall, and they cried to drown my voice;
But I have so strong a throat that I drowned all their noise
Till they took to the hunting horns and blew them into my face,
And as neither side would give in--we would settle it in this place.A STABLE BOY
No, Conall is the best man here.ANOTHER
Give it to Laegaire that made the murderous cats pay dear.CUCHULAIN
It has been given to none: that our rivalry might cease,
We have turned that murderous cat into a cup of peace.I drank the first; and then Conall; give it to Laegaire now,
[_CONALL gives Helmet to LAEGAIRE_]
That it may purr in his hand and all of our servants know
That since the ale went in, its claws went out of sight.A SERVANT
That's well--I will stop my shouting.ANOTHER
Cuchulain is in the right;
I am tired of this big horn that has made me hoarse as a rook.LAEG
Cuchulain, you drank the first.ANOTHER
By drinking the first he took
The whole of the honours himself.LAEG
Cuchulain, you drank the first.ANOTHER
If Laegaire drink from it now he claims to be last and worst.ANOTHER
Cuchulain and Conall have drunk.ANOTHER
He is lost if he taste a drop.LAEGAIRE
[_Laying Helmet on table_]
Did you claim to be better than us by drinking first from the cup?CUCHULAIN
[_His words are partly drowned by the murmurs of the crowd though he
speaks very loud_]
That juggler from the sea, that old red herring it is
Who has set us all by the ears--he brought the Helmet for this,
And because we would not quarrel he ran elsewhere to shout
That Conall and Laegaire wronged me, till all had fallen out.[_The murmur grows less so that his words are heard_]
Who knows where he is now or who he is spurring to fight?So get you gone, and whatever may cry aloud in the night,
Or show itself in the air, be silent until morn.A SERVANT
Cuchulain is in the right--I am tired of this big horn.[_The Servants turn toward the door but stop on hearing the voices
of Women outside_]
LAEGAIRE'S WIFE
[_Without_]
Mine is the better to look at.CONALL'S WIFE
[_Without_]
But mine is better born.EMER
[_Without_]
My man is the pithier man.CUCHULAIN
Old hurricane, well done!You've set our wives to the game that they may egg us on;
We are to kill each other that you may sport with us.Ah, now, they've begun to wrestle as to who'll be first at the house.John went to the kitchen.[_The Women come to the door struggling_]
EMER
No, I have the right of place for I married the better man.CONALL'S WIFE
[_Pulling Emer back_]
My nails in your neck and shoulder.LAEGAIRE'S WIFE
And go before me if you can.CONALL'S WIFE
[_Kneeling in the door so as to keep the others out who pull at
her_]
But what did he fight with there
But sidelong and spitting and helpless shadows of the dim air?And what did he carry away but straw and broken delf?LAEGAIRE'S WIFE
Your own man made up that tale trembling alone by himself,
Drowning his terror.EMER
[_Forcing herself in front_]
I am Emer, it is I go first through the door.No one shall walk before |
office | Where is Mary? | CUCHULAIN
[_Spreading his arms across the door so as to close it_]
Come, put an end to their quarrelling:
One is as fair as the other, and each one the wife of a king.Break down the painted boards between the sill and the floor
That they come in together, each one at her own door.[_LAEGAIRE and CONALL begin to break out the bottoms of the windows,
then their wives go to the windows, each to the window where her
husband is.Daniel moved to the garden.EMER stands at the door and sings while the boards are
being broken out_]
EMER
Nothing that he has done,
His mind that is fire,
His body that is sun,
Have set my head higher
Than all the world's wives.Himself on the wind
Is the gift that he gives,
Therefore womenkind,
When their eyes have met mine,
Grow cold and grow hot,
Troubled as with wine
By a secret thought,
Preyed upon, fed upon
By jealousy and desire.I am moon to that sun,
I am steel to that fire,
[_The windows are now broken down to floor.CUCHULAIN takes his
spear from the door, and the three Women come in at the same
moment_]
EMER
Cuchulain, put off this sloth and awake:
I will sing till I've stiffened your lip against every knave that would
take
A share of your honour.LAEGAIRE'S WIFE
You lie, for your man would take from my man.CONALL'S WIFE
[_To LAEGAIRE'S WIFE_]
You say that, you double-face, and your own husband began.CUCHULAIN
[_Taking up Helmet from table_]
Town land may rail at town land till all have gone to wrack,
The very straws may wrangle till they've thrown down the stack;
The very door-posts bicker till they've pulled in the door,
The very ale-jars jostle till the ale is on the floor,
But this shall help no further.[_He throws Helmet into the sea_]
LAEGAIRE'S WIFE
It was not for your head,
And so you would let none wear it, but fling it away instead.CONALL'S WIFE
But you shall answer for it, for you've robbed my man by this.CONALL
You have robbed us both, Cuchulain.LAEGAIRE
The greatest wrong there is
On the wide ridge of the world has been done to us two this day.EMER
[_Drawing her dagger_]
Who is for Cuchulain?CUCHULAIN
Silence!EMER
Who is for Cuchulain, I say?[_She sings the same words as before, flourishing her dagger about.While she is singing, CONALL'S WIFE and LAEGAIRE'S WIFE draw their
daggers and run at her, but CUCHULAIN forces them back.LAEGAIRE and
CONALL draw their swords to strike CUCHULAIN_]
LAEGAIRE'S WIFE
[_Crying out so as to be heard through EMER'S singing_]
Deafen her singing with horns!CONALL'S WIFE
Cry aloud!LAEGAIRE'S WIFE
Blow horns, clap hands, or shout, so that you smother her voice![_The Horse Boys and Scullions blow their horns or fight among
themselves.There is a deafening noise and a confused fight.John went to the kitchen.Suddenly three black hands come through the windows and put out the
torches.It is now pitch dark, but for a faint light outside the
house which merely shows that there are moving forms, but not who or
what they are, and in the darkness one can hear low terrified
voices_]
A VOICE
Coal-black, and headed like cats, they came up over the strand.ANOTHER VOICE
And I saw one stretch to a torch and cover it with his hand.ANOTHER VOICE
Another sooty fellow has plucked the moon from the air.[_A light gradually comes into the house from the sea, on which the
moon begins to show once more.There is no light within the house,
and the great beams of the walls are dark and full of shadows, and
the persons of the play dark too against the light.The RED MAN is
seen standing in the midst of the house.The black cat-headed Men
crouch and stand about the door.One carries the Helmet, one the
great sword_]
RED MAN
I demand the debt that's owing.Let some man kneel down there
That I may cut his head off, or all shall go to wrack.CUCHULAIN
He played and paid with his head and it's right that we pay him back,
And give him more than he gave, for he comes in here as a guest:
So I will give him my head.[_EMER begins to keen_]
Little wife, little wife, be at rest.Alive I have been far off in all lands under sun,
And been no faithful man; but when my story is done
My fame shall spring up and laugh, and set you high above all.EMER
[_Putting her arms about him_]
It is you, not your fame, that I love.CUCHULAIN
[_Tries to put her from him_]
You are young, you are wise, you can call
Some kinder and comelier man that will sit at home in the house.EMER
Live and be faithless still.CUCHULAIN
[_Throwing her from him_]
Would you stay the great barnacle-goose
When its eyes are turned to the sea and its beak to the salt of the air?EMER
[_Lifting her dagger to stab herself_]
I, too, on the grey wing's path.CUCHULAIN
[_Seizing dagger_]
Do you dare, do you dare, do you dare?[_Forcing his way through the Servants who gather round_]
Wail, but keep from the road.There is a pause_]
Quick to your work, old Radish, you will fade when the cocks have crowed.Mary went to the office.[_A black cat-headed Man holds out the Helmet.The RED MAN takes it_]
RED MAN
I have not come for your hurt, I'm the Rector of this land,
And with my spitting cat-heads, my frenzied moon-bred band,
Age after age I sift it, and choose for its championship
The man who hits my fancy.[_He places the Helmet on CUCHULAIN'S head_]
And I choose the laughing lip
That shall not turn from laughing whatever rise or fall,
The heart that grows no bitterer although betrayed by all;
The hand that loves to scatter; the life like a gambler's throw;
And these things I make prosper, till a day come that I know,
When heart and mind shall darken that the weak may end the strong,
And the long remembering harpers have matter for their song.[175]
[173] The Austrian Diet had been sitting since November 15 at
Kremsier in Moravia, in the beautiful castle of the Archbishops
of Olmütz.The new Ministry was composed as follows: Prince Felix
of Schwarzenberg, President of the Council and Minister of
Foreign Affairs; Stadion, Minister of the Interior; Krauss,
Financial Minister; Bach, Legal Minister; Gordon, Minister of
War; Bruck, Minister of Commerce; Thinnfeld, Minister of
Agriculture; Kulmer, unattached.[174] The Pope had given his subjects a constitution on March 14,
and after changing his Ministry several times he had at length
decided on December 15 to appoint as his Prime Minister,
Pellegrino Rossi, formerly French Ambassador to His Holiness and
a personal friend of M. Guizot.Rossi undertook to establish a
regular parliamentary government in the Papal States, relying
upon the middle classes and intervening between the parties in
opposition.He was not given the time to carry out his proposals:
on November 15, as he was going to a Cabinet Council, he was
stabbed in the throat by a militiaman and fell dead.This deed
was a signal for a republican rising.The Pope confined himself
to appointing a new Minister who was out of sympathy with the
people, upon which the mob and the troops made their way to the
Quirinal and ordered the Pope to change his Ministers.Pius IX.,
who was supported by the diplomatic body, declined to accede, and
popular exasperation then reached its height.A desperate
struggle broke out between the people and the guards, and the
bullets even reached the interior of the palace.Eventually the
Pope yielded under protest and consented to accept as his
Ministers Sterbini, Galletti, Mamiani, and the Abbé Rosmini.But
on November 25, dressed as an ordinary Abbé, he left Rome and
sought the protection of the King of Naples at Gaeta, from which
town he sent a protest to the Romans against recent events.[175] Herr von Gagern, who had undertaken to draw up a
constitution for the Empire at Frankfort and to settle the
central power upon a permanent basis, had come to Berlin to
examine the situation and to learn whether the King of Prussia
would be inclined to place himself at the head of the German
Empire in the event of a rupture between Austria and Germany.The
King absolutely declined this proposal, which was afterwards
brought before him once more with more official authority in
March 1849._Sagan, December 6, 1848._--Rumour here very generally asserts that
the worst of the storm has passed.I am by no means sure of the fact;
electoral excitement will soon begin when the attempt is made to work
the constitution that has been granted, and the results seem very
uncertain.Anything, in truth, is better than this state of decay and
confusion in which we are here perishing, but though the danger may
assume new forms, it will not pass so quickly.The country is
certainly becoming somewhat enlightened and growing weary of the state
of things which reduces every one to utter misery; some better
instincts are asserting themselves.On the twenty-fifth anniversary
of the King's marriage there was a favourable display of feeling, but
too many elements of disaffection are still powerful and the
Government cannot make itself respected.In Southern Germany,
especially in Bavaria, people still seem to be in love with the
proposal for sharing the power among three, particularly since Austria
has concentrated her members to form one great monarchy.The old
Prince William of Prussia who was nominated as a possible member of
the triumvirate, has fallen into a state of mental weakness which
would make him incapable of undertaking this task.Moreover, his son,
Prince Waldemar, is dying at Münster of a spinal disease; it is a sad
business, for he is a distinguished Prince and his death will be a
final blow to his poor father.I doubt if the central power will last
very long, as the King of Prussia mercifully persists in his refusal
to accept the burden.It is said that the Princess of Prussia would
have liked to see Herr von Gagern at the head of a new Prussian
Cabinet.I do not think that this haughty character would have been
willing to take so uncertain a position or to confront a Chamber so
little amenable to parliamentary eloquence.In any case the King has
rejected all insinuations, direct or indirect.It would indeed have
been both foolish and utterly ungrateful on his part to dismiss the
only Ministry which has had the courage and the capacity to raise the
prestige of the Crown in some small degree and to turn events in the
direction of conservatism.M. de Broglie will doubtless be
deeply grieved at the death of M. Rossi, as it was he who brought M.
Rossi to France, introduced him to politics, raised him to the
peerage, and finally advanced him to the Embassy at Rome.I saw a
great deal of him in the salon of Madame de Broglie, and afterwards at
Rome; he seemed to me to be an astute and unpretentious character,
less noble but cleverer than Capo d'Istria.[176] Their assassination
was due to the same cause; both attempted to play the part of
Richelieu without due preparation.[176] Like Pellegrino Rossi, Capo d'Istria suffered a violent
death.He was accused by the Greeks of acting merely as the tool
of Russia, and of using arbitrary methods to secure governmental
power.He was assassinated in 1831 by the brothers George and
Constantine Mavromichali, who wished to take vengeance upon him
for the unjust imprisonment of their father and brother._Sagan, December 30, 1848._--The calm amid which Napoleon has assumed
the chief power in France would tend to show that a desire for order
and peace is rising in the country.Rumours are abroad of the
abdication of the King of Sardinia and of a new and warlike Sardinian
Ministry.[177] I hope that Radetzky will bring the rest of Italy to
reason as he has done in Lombardy.Sandra travelled to the bedroom.Windisch-Graetz is before Raab, and
it is hoped that he will have no great difficulty in entering the
town.Great cold delays his march, and he is also hampered by the
necessity of reorganising the civil government in the districts which
he occupies.[178] Jellachich has been carried away by his impetuosity
and captured temporarily by the Hungarians.[179] He was rescued by his
soldiers.Windisch-Graetz has bitterly reproached him for his blind
rashness which might have compromised the fate of the army, and the
vital question of the Government.The Archduchess Sophie gave her son,
the young Emperor, as a Christmas present a frame containing the
portraits of Radetzky, Windisch-Graetz, and Jellachich.It is well to
remind Sovereigns by outward signs of the duty of gratitude, which, as
a rule, they find somewhat burdensome.And so the disastrous year of
1848 comes to an end!Heaven grant that 1849 may bring some
improvement in our lives![177] King Charles Albert did not abdicate until after the battle
of Novara on March 23, 1849.[178] About December 15 Prince Windisch-Graetz at the head of the
Austrian troops drove the Hungarians out of one position after
another, until they retired behind the bastions of Raab, under
the command of Georgei.As the great cold prevented their
reinforcements from coming up, the Hungarians were obliged to
abandon this position, which the Austrians captured without
striking a blow, on December 27.[179] On September 29, 1848, near Veneleze, twelve miles away
from Ofen, Jellachich was utterly defeated by General Moga.His
army took flight and Jellachich was taken prisoner.He succeeded
in escaping, however, and made his way through the forests to
Mor, Risber, and at length to Raab.CHAPTER VII
1849
_Sagan, January 11, 1849._--M. Arago has at length left Berlin, where
he is detested.There seems to be some idea that the Prince of the
Moskowa will come as French Minister, though it is not thought likely
that he will make a long stay.The Grand Duchess Stephanie is going to |
bathroom | Where is John? | However, Princess Mathilde
will not leave him the pleasure of doing the honours of the
Presidency, which she seems to have reserved for herself.The whole
business can hardly be taken seriously.[180]
[180] Prince Louis Bonaparte had been nominated President on
November 10, 1848.M. Molé related that on the morning of that
day General Changarnier, the commander of the troops who were to
take the President to the Elysée, after he had taken the oath,
came to M. Molé and asked for directions, and said as he went
out, "Well, supposing I take him to the Tuileries instead of to
the Elysée!"to which M. Molé replied, "Mind you do nothing of
the sort; he will go there soon enough of his own accord."Daniel moved to the garden._Sagan, January 18, 1849._--The meetings preliminary to the Prussian
elections give no great hope of a definite result.John went to the kitchen.The Brandenburg
Ministry, lest it should be accused of reaction, is pursuing the
barren paths of Liberalism.The Grand Duchess Stephanie, who seems to
have been aroused from long unconsciousness of my existence, writes in
great depression and anxiety concerning the fate of the German Rhine
provinces.Apparently the Grand Duke of Baden has threatened to
withdraw her settlements if she spends them in France.I have also a
letter full of dignity and affectionate trust from the Duchesse
d'Orléans.I propose to go to Dresden next week, to spend a few days
there with my sister._Dresden, January 28, 1849._--At Frankfort the future head of Germany
was refused hereditary rights and even life tenure of power, and it
therefore seems impossible that the King of Prussia could undertake a
position of this kind.Mary went to the office.[181] This was a clever Austrian intrigue to
disqualify the King, and to overthrow the whole of this ridiculous and
abominable invention, which has produced nothing but ruin and
disorder.The Prussian elections are not very hopeful, not so
unfavourable as those of last year, but very far from giving rise to
any real hope.What could be expected from the electoral law which has
been granted here?We have mad Chambers, which no one can govern and
no one dare dissolve.Dresden is
full of people, but it is difficult to meet any one.[181] The greatest confusion prevailed in Frankfort as soon as
the question arose of providing a definite head to the German
Empire, and realising the fine promises of union by means of a
practical conclusion.Austria pretended to adopt a waiting
attitude which would enable her to stand apart from all details,
as though she had no idea of entering into relations with Germany
until Germany became a constituted state.Her intention, in
short, was to take no steps with reference to her union with
Germany until the choice of the head of the empire and of
pre-eminence was decided in her favour or against her._Sagan, February 12, 1849._--I passed through Berlin on my return
journey.The town is now swarming with little German princes, asking
for mediatisation as the only means of safety; they offer themselves
to Prussia, who refuses them for scrupulous reasons of every kind.Prussia thinks it dangerous to set such an example; tradition and the
historical past of the monarchy are also influential forces; in short,
these poor princes will all go as they have come, and in spite of the
somewhat vague promises of protection which they have received as a
crumb of comfort, they will probably be driven out of their homes some
day or other and reduced to beggary.Count von Bülow, Prussian
Minister at Frankfort, is inclined to support the Frankfort Assembly;
Charlottenberg takes the contrary view; the result is an unpleasant
hitch in proceedings, while the relations between Kremsier and Berlin
are characterised by marked coldness, to the great displeasure of the
King.I know nothing of this M. de Lurde who is taking the place of M.
Arago as French Minister at Berlin, but he may easily appear to
advantage in comparison with his predecessor, who could speak only of
the great-heartedness and the noble soul of Barbès!_Sagan, March 1, 1849._--If I am to believe letters from Paris, there
is a general revival in progress, and a complete reaction in favour of
order and prosperity.Praises of the new President are general.M.
Thiers said of him, "He is not Cæsar, but he is Augustus."The
Legitimists throng his rooms, and after the ball nothing could be
heard but the shouts of servants--"The carriage of Madame la Duchesse,
of M. le Prince," &c. The President is addressed as _Monseigneur_, a
title anything but Republican.I am told that this practice is
followed in the provinces.I must say that I rather distrust these
sudden changes, but the present moment seems satisfactory._Sagan, March 31, 1849._--The political horizon causes me much
anxiety.Clouds seem to be rising once more, instead of dispersing.This unfortunate proposal of an Imperial Crown does not tempt the
King, but pleases those about him, the young officers of the
bureaucracy, whose petty pride finds matter for self-satisfaction.The
Left, perfidiously supporting the proposal, are well aware that the
so-called Imperial dignity would subject the King to the orders of the
democratic professors of Frankfort.The bad weather and the abominable
state of the roads delay the subjugation of Hungary.[182] The only
consolation is the success of Radetzky, and this has been gained at
what a price!We have no details yet of his last two victories, and
have only heard of the abdication of Charles Albert.The actual names
of the victims are unknown.[183]
[182] This war, which began upon the accession of Francis Joseph
to the Austrian throne, lasted for three years.Sandra travelled to the bedroom.Mary went to the bathroom.Hungary
eventually yielded before the overwhelming force of Austria in
alliance with Russia.[183] As France and England had offered to intervene between
Austria and Sardinia, the armistice between these two powers,
which was signed on August 9, 1848, was tacitly prolonged to the
end of the negotiations.As the negotiations came to nothing,
Sardinia at length denounced the armistice on March 12, 1849, and
hostilities began again upon the 20th of the month.On March 23
the Sardinian army performed prodigies of valour in the decisive
battle of Novara, but the commanding officer, the Polish General,
Chrzanowski, made deplorable mistakes and Austria was once again
successful.King Charles Albert asked Marshal Radetzky for a
further armistice, but the conditions offered were so harsh that
the King refused to accept them, abdicated in favour of Victor
Emmanuel, and went into exile.On the 27th the new King went to
Marshal Radetzky's headquarters, and after a long conversation,
signed an armistice which lasted until the eventual conclusion of
peace._Sagan, April 13, 1849._--Kind Lady Westmoreland gave me the pleasant
surprise of a two days' visit; she arrived yesterday to my great
delight.She is a clever, lively, affectionate, and really charming
friend, with warm memories of the late M. de Talleyrand, and talks of
the past and the present with keen interest and intelligence.We
discussed pleasant memories in England; tried as we both are by the
sadness of the present time, we prefer to avoid melancholy
contemplation of so deplorable a subject and to look backwards,
recovering some of those precious memories which I should be inclined
to style "the savings of my heart."Thus I take refuge in the past as
I dare not question the future._Sagan, April 21, 1849._--Yesterday I received letters from Paris
which say that, notwithstanding the efforts of the Union in the Rue de
Poitiers,[184] communism is making great progress in France.[184] The Electoral Union or the famous committee of the Rue de
Poitiers, was formed at the beginning of 1849 by the conservative
right to guide the elections and to oppose the democratic
socialistic committee.It is thought at Berlin that the Frankfort parliament will pursue a
wholly revolutionary course and form an executive committee and a
committee of public safety.In that case it would bring troops from
Baden and Nassau in the certainty that the garrison of Mayence would
not be led against Frankfort, and able thus to profit by the continual
vacillation of Prussia.[185] The asserted adherence of twenty-eight
little German governments is sheer effrontery, as their agreement is
only conditional: they will only join the Prussian banner if,
following the example of these little governments, Prussia submits to
the constitution drawn up at Frankfort.The four kings of Saxony,
Bavaria, Hanover, and Würtemberg refuse their assent.[185] The King of Prussia had been elected on March 28 as Emperor
of the Germans at the Frankfort Assembly, and a deputation
immediately started to offer him this title.The deputation was
received by Frederick William IV.on April 3, who replied that he
would only accept the position when the kings, the princes, and
the free towns of Germany had given their voluntary assent.After
long negotiations the mission of the Frankfort deputies proved a
failure.Were it not for the affairs of Denmark, Prussia would be able to
fortify herself at home, a necessity which she is far from meeting at
present, and make head against the Frankfort storm; but General von
Pritwitz has submitted to the so-called Frankfort government.[186]
Denmark would not be likely to treat with a Government so irregularly
constituted.The solution of the difficulty is not easy to see.The
King, who is at bottom kindly disposed towards the King of Denmark and
is afraid of Russia,[187] continues to oppose the occupation of
Jutland.[186] General von Pritwitz had taken command of the federal army
in Schleswig-Holstein, after the appointment of General Wrangel
as Commander of the Berlin troops.[187] Nicholas I. had threatened to declare war upon the Germanic
Confederation if the German troops did not evacuate the duchies
and retire beyond the Elbe._Sagan, April 30, 1849._--The state of Germany does not improve.The
King of Würtemberg has now yielded because his troops declared that
they would not fire upon the people.[188] The Frankfort parliament is
also adopting the most revolutionary means to force the sovereigns to
submit to its laws.[189] The parliament insists that governments shall
not dissolve their Chambers without the permission of the so-called
central government.This wonderful decree reached Hanover and Berlin
six hours after the dissolutions had been officially announced.General von Pritwitz wishes to be relieved of his command against the
Danes because he is unwilling to obey orders from Frankfort and cannot
command all the little German princes who severally wish to pose as
masters.Denmark has already captured a large number of Prussian
merchant-ships.At Copenhagen, however, there is a desire for peace;
Russia and England are also anxious for peace and so is Prussia,
though Berlin cannot find courage to recall the twenty thousand men
now stationed in Holstein and Schleswig.Frankfort is utterly opposed
to peace, with the object of depriving the German princes of their
troops and thus leaving them defenceless against the hordes of
revolutionaries.In short, confusion is at its height and I think the
state of Germany is far worse than it was four months ago.However,
the dissolution of the Prussian Chamber which had become urgent since
the Red Republic was proclaimed from the Tribune, will perhaps do some
good.[190] It is especially necessary that the Austrian operations in
Hungary should come to an end.Russia
has entered Transylvania with a hundred thousand men: this number is
regarded at Olmütz as unnecessarily large, but the Emperor Nicholas
has declared that he will run no risks of a second failure such as
that of Hermannstadt,[191] and that he will either hold aloof
altogether or insist upon sending an imposing force.He also feels
that he is fighting his personal enemies, the Poles, upon Hungarian
soil.Twenty thousand Poles are said to follow the standards of Bem
and Kossuth.[188] Yielding to public opinion and to avoid a catastrophe, the
King of Würtemberg eventually adopted the Constitution voted by
the Frankfort Assembly, including the article dealing with the
head of the Empire, which he had previously persisted in
rejecting.[189] In the session of April 26 the Frankfort Assembly had
declared that the King of Prussia could not accept the proposed
position as head of the Empire if he did not also accept the
Constitution.[190] On April 26 great agitation was produced in the Prussian
Chamber among the Left by a letter found under the seats of the
deputies.In this letter a large number of signatures from the
Red faction proclaimed the sovereignty of the people and
announced that all their efforts were being aimed at the
formation of a great Polish republic.The same evening the King's
ordinance dissolving the Chamber appeared.[191] General Bem, of Polish origin, who had distinguished
himself in the defence of Warsaw in 1831, joined the Hungarians
who revolted against Austria in 1848 and won some great successes
in Transylvania, especially at Hermannstadt._Sagan, May 10, 1849._--Storms are breaking in every direction and
Germany is in a state of conflagration.There has been fighting at
Dresden and at Breslau.[192] The Russians have used the Prussian
railways to invade Moravia; they have been warmly welcomed, for
anything which will check the Hungarian struggle or bring it to an end
will be a blessing not only for Austria, but for the whole of Europe,
for the proceedings in Hungary encourage the disaffected, and foment
insurrection in every direction.[192] On May 3 the King of Saxony absolutely refused to recognise
the constitution of the empire.His palace was immediately
surrounded by the crowd, a defence committee was formed and the
arsenal was attacked.The people seized the town hall and hoisted
the German Tricolour.The Royal Family and the Ministers fled to
Königstein.Had it not been for the Prussian intervention and the
arrival of General Wrangel, the republic would have been
proclaimed.The contagion of this revolt spread to Breslau,
where, on May 7, the bands of insurgents paraded the streets with
the red flag, which they brought before the town hall and
proclaimed the republic.The military authorities stormed the
barricades after a vigorous fusillade._Sagan, May 17, 1849._--To-day is a solemn date which I keep whenever
it comes round with heartfelt and painful emotion.[193] The nearer the
years bring me to a final reunion, the more do I feel the serious and
decisive nature of the event that happened eleven years ago.May God
bless each of those who bore themselves as Christians should on that
occasion.This I ask of Him amid my misery with a fervour which will,
I trust, make my poor prayers acceptable.[193] The anniversary of the death of M. de Talleyrand._Sagan, May 25, 1849._--It is a real misfortune for the Prussian
Government to have Bunsen at London.He is there playing an
inconceivable part.John journeyed to the bathroom.Radowitz, whose intentions are excellent, but who
is quite misled, is also complicating the situation at Berlin itself
and is preventing the desirable and speedy solutions of certain
questions.The King of Prussia has sent General von Rauch to Warsaw,
to try and sooth the Emperor Nicholas, who is angry that the Prussians
should have entered Jutland in spite of the promise given.[194]
[194] The German troops had entered Jutland after a battle
between Wisdrup and Gudsor.The Danes, however, retired behind
the ramparts of Fredericia which was bombarded by the Prussian
troops, while negotiations for peace between Denmark and Prussia
were proceeding at London under the auspices of Lord Palmerston.Some days later a Russian fleet left Cronstadt to help Denmark
against Prussia, for the Emperor Nicholas maintained that Prussia
was fomenting among her neighbours a spirit of revolt |
office | Where is Mary? | Daniel moved to the garden.The note which
General von Rauch brought pointed out to the Czar that Prussia
was only making war against Denmark at the orders of the central
power and that no one was more anxious to see the end of these
complications than the Prussian Cabinet._Sagan, May 31, 1849._--With regard to the negotiations opened at
Berlin, I have the following upon excellent authority:[195] Four days
ago a protocol was signed at Berlin between Prussia, Saxony and
Hanover stating: (1) Everything that has been done to grant a
reasonable and satisfactory Constitution to Germany; (2) That Hanover
and Saxony in their desire to maintain order in their states,
recognise and accept the military superiority of Prussia in the case
of any measures that may become necessary to maintain peace within
their states.Herr von Beust none the less makes the following
reservations in the name of the Saxon Government: (1) That Saxony does
not claim by this arrangement to infringe the rights of Austria as a
member of the Germanic Confederation; (2) That if the great states in
Southern Germany decline to adhere to the Constitution appended to the
protocol, Saxony shall have the right to withdraw; (3) That this
Constitution is to receive the sanction of the Saxon Chambers.Hanover
has handed in a note containing identically the same reservations.The
new Constitution has been explained in a circular note addressed by
Prussia to all the German governments, inviting them to adhere.The
Bavarian Minister, Herr von Lerchenfeld, has also signed the protocol,
but only as a member of the conference and in the hope that his
Government will find some means or other of adhering to the
arrangement.Herr von Prokesch has been present only at the first
conference, as Radowitz then declared from the outset that he could
not treat with governments which would not recognise the general
superiority of Prussia as a basis of negotiation.The haughty conduct
of Radowitz is undoubtedly the cause of this deplorable want of
unanimity among the crowned heads, at a time when indissoluble union
is so necessary.With a little cleverness and without putting forward
the question of supremacy as preliminary, he might have done great
services to his King and to his country, for the other states would
then have unanimously requested Prussia to take the leading position,
whereas now they are inclined to regard these dictatorial claims as
the expression of views more ambitious than any that are really
entertained.The result is jealousy and distrust which drown the voice
of reason and blind men's eyes to the necessities of the times.Notwithstanding the presence of a new Danish envoy in Berlin, even an
armistice seems very far distant.The last Danish concessions, though
supported by Lord Palmerston, were haughtily declined by Prussia,
which is making impossible claims and asserts that these alone can
satisfy her honour.[195] The Prussian Cabinet had invited the other German Cabinets
to a Congress at Berlin with the object of settling the
difficulties raised by the refusal of the Frankfort Assembly to
make any change in the constitution which it had voted._Sagan, June 12, 1849._--Cholera has again broken out almost
everywhere in this part of Germany; at Breslau, Berlin, and Halle the
inhabitants have been decimated.In short, the state of the human race
is most deplorable.My correspondents tell me that Lord Palmerston
told Bunsen that he was tired of the Prussian demands, which required
increasingly large concessions from Denmark, and that he proposed to
abandon his position as mediator and become an active ally in
conjunction with Russia for the protection of Denmark.Bunsen in
relating this conversation to his Court added that the threat was not
seriously intended.In this he is wrong, and is also deluding his
Court._Sagan, July 9, 1849._--I have had a visit from Baron von Meyendorff,
Russian Minister at Berlin.He was going to Gastein by way of Warsaw,
which is not the shortest route.His forecast of the situation was
very gloomy, and more gloomy with reference to the north than to the
south of Germany--I mean to say that he felt more forebodings
concerning the nature of the Prussian destinies than of the Austrian._Sagan, September 3, 1849._--General Count Haugwitz has been staying
here for a few days; he came from Vienna where Radetzky was expected.The young Emperor, in order to receive the old Ajax, had delayed his
departure for Warsaw, where he is going to thank his powerful ally.The latter is behaving most loyally and nobly towards his young friend
and ward, for thus he considers the Emperor Francis Joseph.Paskewitch
asked for mercy for Georgei which was immediately granted to
him.[196] Austria is anxious that a few Russian regiments should
prolong their stay in Galicia for the moment.[196] Georgei had capitulated with twenty-two thousand combatants
at Vilagos, where he handed his sword to the Russians.He was
given up to the Austrians after a short confinement, at the
request of Paskewitch._Hanover, November 5, 1849._--Yesterday morning was spent in calling
upon several acquaintances in the town and paying my respects to the
Crown Princess.She is kind and gentle, and I saw her two children
with her.The Crown Princess showed
me several very interesting portraits of her family.I was especially
struck by those of the Electress Sophie, the patroness of Leibnitz and
the ancestress of the Royal Family of England.She must have been very
pretty, with the somewhat long and noble features of the Stuarts.I
also saw a charming portrait of the sister of the Crown Princess, the
Grand Duchess of Russia, wife of the Grand Duke Constantine, a clever,
lively and striking face; her character is said to correspond with her
expression, which fact makes her more suitable for the Court of St.Petersburg than she would be here, where her elder sister seem to have
been expressly made to fulfil her sad duties.[197] There was a great
dinner given by the King.I
never saw a blind man eat more cleverly without any help except that
of instinct or habit.At nine o'clock I went back to tea with the
King, which was taken privately with him and the person known here as
the Countess Royal (Frau von Grote), my brother-in-law and General
Walmoden.The King lives upon oysters and ices, a strange dietary,
which seems to suit his eighty years marvellously.While we were with
him a despatch arrived from Vienna, which he asked the Countess to
read aloud.[198] It stated that Austria had sent a note to Prussia in
most serious language, protesting against the convocation of the
so-called Imperial Diet, and that at the same time the movement of the
army towards the frontiers of Bohemia and Silesia was rapidly
proceeding; some sixty thousand men were said to be there
concentrated.Prince Schwarzenberg replied to the questions of Count
Bernstorff, the Prussian Minister at Vienna, stating that the
convocation of the Diet at Erfurt had aroused democratic agitation
which threatened the realm of the Duchess of Saxony, and that these
troops were consequently intended for their protection and their
defence in case of necessity.[197] An allusion to the blindness of the Crown Prince of
Hanover.[198] The Vienna Cabinet, which was invariably jealous of
Prussia's position in Germany, strove by every means to destroy
Prussian influence.The Vienna Cabinet worked upon Hanover to
withdraw that State from alliance with the King of Prussia, and
pointed out that a federal State when confined by the terms of
federation, was likely to advance the cause of democracy, and
that Prussia by transforming the provisional central power into a
permanent institution, would become supreme in Germany.The Archduke John had looked forward to a quiet unostentatious meeting
with King Leopold;[199] instead of this he was received with great
solemnity.Frau von Brandhofen and the little Count of Meran had no
part in the ceremonies, and were sent to make a railway tour in
Belgium incognito.When they reached Brussels they made an unexpected
entry into Metternich's drawing-room, which was the more remarkable,
as the relations between Prince Metternich and the Archduke John had
always been cold and strained.The politeness of Metternich simplified
the matter.[199] The Archduke John, who possessed large properties in Styria
which he wished to develop, had come to Belgium to examine the
iron and steel factories.On October 24 the King of the Belgians
met him at Liège, and visited with him Seraing and the
establishments of the Vieille Montagne at Angleux.The Archduke
had contracted a morganatic marriage with Mlle.Plochel who was
made Baroness of Brandhofen; their only son had received the
title of Count of Meran._Eisenach, November 7, 1849._--I left Hanover yesterday morning and
arrived here in the afternoon.I sent word of my arrival immediately
to Madame Alfred de Chabannes, who at once came to my hotel.We talked
for a long time about the little _émigré_ Court, of which she at
present forms part; I use the term _émigré_, although the Duchesse de
Orléans is doing her utmost to avoid obtruding the anomalous nature of
her position.At the same time inconsistencies cannot be entirely
obviated, and arise from the nature of the situation: for instance,
the opposing parties are represented among those about her; there is a
coalition and a separatist party.She declines to belong definitely
to either, and does not like people to say that she is opposing
coalition though she will not take the first steps towards it.At the
same time she has not allowed any one to declare hitherto that she
would not be opposed to it.She fears that the first step to coalition
would disgust her adherents in France, whom she thinks, in my opinion,
to be more numerous than they really are, and this though she sees
that her truly reliable adherents are growing less every day.The
names which seem to cause her the most despondency from this point of
view are those of Molé and Thiers.I saw the Duchesse d'Orléans alone
for half an hour before dinner; we were interrupted by the Duc and
Duchesse de Nemours.I found the Duchesse d'Orléans in no way
outwardly changed, except that her features may have lost something of
their refinement; her spirits were more despondent, though she showed
the same placidity and even dignity, but her energy has decreased and
she is inclined to feel herself overwhelmed by unpleasant incidents,
which are due to people rather than to things.She is humiliated by
the degradation which has overtaken France, and shows much insight
into the state of Germany, characterising the so-called central power
and the parody of imperialism at its true worth.The Nemours, who are
strong supporters of Austria, refer to Lord Palmerston with much
bitterness.They are really coalitionists, and are on their way back
to Claremont from Vienna; she is fresh and pretty, and ventures to
assert her opinions, which are positive; he has grown stouter and much
more like the King, especially in his way of speaking, as he has at
last found the courage to express himself; he speaks sensibly, but
with no style or distinction, and in this respect he was always
wanting.The letters of his brothers which have been published are not
approved by him in any way.John went to the kitchen.He fears that the law may be adopted which
may recall his family to France, and he does not wish to see his
brothers hastening back again.Mary went to the office.[200] This is all very well, but I
repeat he is wanting in the spirit of energy.He will never be of any
account, and will never take any practical part, and remains a
distinguished nonentity.The Comte de Paris is much grown and fairly
good-looking, as his shyness had disappeared, but he has a squeaky,
disagreeable intonation of voice.The Duc de Chartres has become much
stronger and very noisy.Sandra travelled to the bedroom.After dinner, which began about seven o'clock, we stayed talking until
nearly eleven o'clock.Boismilon is a strong separatist; Ary Scheffer
was also there, and seems to me to be one of the zealot party, an
attitude which M. de Talleyrand used to distrust.[200] On October 24 M. Creton had proposed to the National
Assembly the abrogation of the laws proscribing the Bourbons.Prince Jérôme Napoléon
quoted the letters written in 1848 by the sons of Louis Philippe
protesting against their banishment and asking permission to
return to their native land on recognising the sovereignty of the
people.M. Creton's proposal was rejected by 587 votes.Mary went to the bathroom.The Princesse de Joinville has been confined of a still-born child and
was in considerable danger.John journeyed to the bathroom.The child's body was taken to Dreux by my
cousin, Alfred de Chabannes, who gave no notice of his intention.It
was laid in the family vault, mass was said, and only when all this
had been done did M. de Chabannes inform the Mayor of his actions.The
ceremony was very properly conducted.indicates a
struggle for which we are making straight and fast.At this moment comes the order: "Colonel, you will countermarch
your men, and take position down this road on the right.The staff-officer leads us half a mile to the right, where,
sinking down utterly exhausted, we are soon sound asleep.Of the next day or two I have but an indistinct recollection.What
with the fatigue and excitement, the hunger and thirst, of the last
few days, a high fever set in for me.I became half-delirious,
and lay under a great oak-tree, too weak to walk, my head nearly
splitting with the noise of a battery of steel cannon in position
fifty yards to the left of me.That battery's beautiful but
terrible drill I could plainly see.Mary went back to the office.My own corps was put on
reserve: the men built strong breastworks, but took no part in the
battle, excepting some little skirmishing.One evening,--it was the last evening we spent in the woods at
Chancellorsville,--a sergeant of my company came back to where we
were, with orders for me to hunt up and bring an ambulance for one
of the lieutenants who was sick."You see, Harry, there are rumors that we are going to retreat
to-night, for the heavy rains have so swollen the Rappahannock that
our pontoons are in danger of being carried away, and it appears
that, for some reason or other, we've got to get out of this at
once under cover of night, and lieutenant can't stand the march.You'll find the ambulance-park
about two miles from here.You'll take through the woods in that
direction,"--pointing with his finger,--"until you come to a path;
follow the path till you come to a road; follow the road, taking to
the right and straight ahead, till you come to the ambulances."Although it was raining hard at the time, and had been raining
for several days, and though I myself was probably as sick as the
lieutenant, and felt positive that the troops would have started in
retreat before I could get back, yet it was my duty to obey, and
off I went.I had no difficulty in finding the path; and I reached the road
all right.John went back to the kitchen.Fording a stream, the corduroy bridge of which was all
afloat, and walking rapidly for a half-hour, I found the ambulances
all drawn up ready to retreat."We have orders to pull out from here at once, and can send an
ambulance for no man.It was getting dark fast, as I started back with this message.I
was soaked to the skin, and the rain was pouring down in torrents.To make bad worse, in the darkness I turned off from the road at
the wrong point, missed the path, and quite lost my way!If I should spend much time where I was, I was certain
to be left behind, for I felt sure that the troops were moving off;
and yet I feared to make for any of the fires I |
office | Where is John? | Collecting my poor fevered faculties, I determined to follow the
course of a little stream I heard plashing down among the bushes to
the left.By and by I fixed my eye on a certain bright camp-fire,
and determined to make for it at all hazards, be it of friend or of
foe.Judge of my joyful surprise when I found it was burning in
front of my own tent!Standing about our fire trying to get warm and dry, our fellows
were discussing the question of the retreat about to be made.But I
was tired and sick, and wet and sleepy, and did not at all relish
the prospect of a night-march through the woods in a drenching
rain.Daniel moved to the garden.So, putting on the only remaining dry shirt I had left (I had
_two_ on already, and they were soaked through), I lay down under
my shelter, shivering and with chattering teeth, but soon fell
sound asleep.In the gray light of the morning we were suddenly awakened by a
loud "Halloo there, you chaps!We're
the last line of cavalry pickets, and the Johnnies are on our
heels!"It was an easy matter for us to sling on our knapsacks and rush
after the cavalry-man, until a double-quick of two miles brought us
within the rear line of defences thrown up to cover the retreat.CHAPTER X.
THE FIRST DAY AT GETTYSBURG."Harry, I'm getting tired of this thing.John went to the kitchen.It's becoming monotonous,
this thing of being roused every morning at four, with orders
to pack up and be ready to march at a moment's notice, and then
lying around here all day in the sun.I don't believe we are going
anywhere, anyhow."We had been encamped for six weeks, of which I need give no special
account, only saying that in those "summer quarters," as they might
be called, we went on with our endless drilling, and were baked and
browned, and thoroughly hardened to the life of a soldier in the
field.The monotony of which Andy complained did not end that day, nor
the next.For six successive days we were regularly roused at four
o'clock in the morning, with orders to "pack up and be ready to
move immediately!"only to unpack as regularly about the middle of
the afternoon.We could hear our batteries pounding away in the
direction of Fredericksburg, but we did not then know that we were
being held well in hand till the enemy's plan had developed itself
into the great march into Pennsylvania, and we were let off in hot
pursuit.So, at last, on the 12th of June, 1863, we started, at five o'clock
in the morning, in a north-westerly direction.My journal says:
"Very warm, dust plenty, water scarce, marching very hard.Halted
at dusk at an excellent spring, and lay down for the night with
aching limbs and blistered feet."I pass over the six days' continuous marching that followed,
steadily on toward the north, pausing only to relate several
incidents that happened by the way.On the 14th we were racing with the enemy--we being pushed on to
the utmost of human endurance--for the possession of the defences
of Washington.From five o'clock of that morning till three the
following morning,--that is to say, from daylight to daylight,--we
were hurried along under a burning June sun, with no halt longer
than sufficient to recruit our strength with a hasty cup of coffee
at noon and nightfall.Nine, ten, eleven, twelve o'clock at night,
and still on!Mary went to the office.Men fell
out of line in the darkness by the score, and tumbled over by the
roadside, asleep almost before they touched the ground.I remember how a great tall fellow in our company made us laugh
along somewhere about one o'clock that morning,--"Pointer," we
called him,--an excellent soldier, who afterward fell at his
post at Spottsylvania.He had been trudging on in sullen silence
for hours, when all of a sudden, coming to a halt, he brought
his piece to "order arms" on the hard road with a ring, took off
his cap, and, in language far more forcible than elegant, began
forthwith to denounce both parties to the war, "from A to Izzard,"
in all branches of the service, civil and military, army and navy,
artillery, infantry, and cavalry, and demanded that the enemy
should come on in full force here and now, "and I'll fight them
all, single-handed and alone, the whole pack of 'em!I'm tired of
this everlasting marching, and I want to fight!"cried some one, and we laughed heartily
as we toiled doggedly on to Manassas, which we reached at three
o'clock A. M., June 15th.I can assure you we lost no time in
stretching ourselves at full length in the tall summer grass."James McFadden, report to the adjutant for camp guard!Now that was rather hard, wasn't it?To march from daylight to
daylight, and lie down for a rest of probably two hours before
starting again, and then to be called up to stand throughout those
precious two hours on guard duty!I knew very well where McFadden was, for wasn't he lying right
beside me in the grass?But just then I was in no humor to tell.The camp might well go without a guard that night, or the orderly
might find McFadden in the dark if he could.But the rules were strict, and the punishment was severe, and poor
McFadden, bursting into tears of vexation, answered like a man:
"Here I am, Orderly; I'll go."Two weeks later, both McFadden and the orderly went where there is
neither marching nor standing guard any more.Now comes a long rest of a week in the woods near the Potomac; for
we have been marching parallel with the enemy, and dare not go
too fast, lest by some sudden and dexterous move in the game he
should sweep past our rear in upon the defences of Washington.And
after this sweet refreshment, we cross the Potomac on pontoons,
and march, perhaps with a lighter step, since we are nearing home,
through the smiling fields and pleasant villages of "Maryland, my
Maryland."At Poolesville, a little town on the north bank of the
Potomac, we smile as we see a lot of children come trooping out of
the village school,--a merry sight to men who have seen neither
woman nor child these six months and more, and a touching sight to
many a man in the ranks as he thinks of his little flaxen-heads in
the far-away home.Sandra travelled to the bedroom.Ay, think of them now, and think of them full
tenderly too, for many a man of you shall never have child climb
on his knee any more!Mary went to the bathroom.As we enter one of these pleasant little Maryland
villages,--Jefferson by name,--we find on the outskirts of the
place two young ladies and two young gentlemen waving the good old
flag as we pass, and singing "Rally round the Flag, Boys!"The
excitement along the line is intense.Cheer on cheer is given by
regiment after regiment as we pass along, we drummer-boys beating,
at the colonel's express orders, the old tune, "The Girl I left
behind me," as a sort of response.Soon we are in among the hills
again, and still the cheering goes on in the far distance to the
rear.Only ten days later we passed through the same village again, and
were met by the same young ladies and gentlemen, waving the same
flag and singing the same song.But though we tried twice, and
tried hard, we could not cheer at all; for there's a difference
between five hundred men and one hundred,--is there not?So, that
second time, we drooped our tattered flags, and raised our caps
in silent and sorrowful salute.Through Middletown next, where a
rumor reaches us that the enemy's forces have occupied Harrisburg,
and where certain ladies, standing on a balcony and waving their
handkerchiefs as we pass by, in reply to our colonel's greeting,
that "we are glad to see so many Union people here," answer, "Yes;
and we are glad to see the Yankee soldiers too."From Middletown, at six o'clock in the evening, across the mountain
to Frederick, on the outskirts of which city we camp for the night.At half-past five next morning (June 29th) we are up and away,
in a drizzling rain, through Lewistown and Mechanicstown, near
which latter place we pass a company of Confederate prisoners,
twenty-four in number, dressed in well-worn gray and butternut,
which makes us think that the enemy cannot be far ahead.After
a hard march of twenty-five miles, the greater part of the way
over a turnpike, we reach Emmittsburg at nightfall, some of us
quite barefoot, and all of us footsore and weary.Next morning
(June 30th) at nine o'clock we are up and away again, "on the
road leading towards Gettysburg," they say.After crossing the
line between Maryland and Pennsylvania, where the colonel halts
the column for a moment, in order that we may give three rousing
cheers for the Old Keystone State, we march perceptibly slower, as
if there were some impediment in the way.There is a feeling among
the men that the enemy is somewhere near.Towards noon we leave the
public road, and taking across the fields, form in line of battle
along the rear of a wood, and pickets are thrown out.There is an
air of uncertainty and suspicion in the ranks as we look to the
woods, and consider what our pickets may possibly unmask there.But no developments have yet been made when darkness comes, and we
bivouac for the night behind a strong stone wall.Passing down along the line of glowing fires in the gathering
gloom, I come on one of my company messes squatting about a fire,
cooking supper.Joe Gutelius, corporal and color-guard from our
company, is superintending the boiling of a piece of meat in a tin
can, while Sam Ruhl and his brother Joe are smoking their pipes
near by."Boys, it begins to look a little dubious, don't it?"He's out on picket in the woods yonder.Yes, Harry, it begins to
look a little as if we were about to stir the Johnnies out of the
brush," says Joe Gutelius, throwing another rail on the fire."If we do," says Joe Ruhl, "remember that you have the post of
honor, Joe, and 'if any man pulls down that flag, shoot him on the
spot!'""Never you fear for that," answers Joe Gutelius."We of the
color-guard will look out for the flag.John journeyed to the bathroom.For my part, I'll stay a
dead man on the field before the colors of the 150th are disgraced.""You'll have some tough tussling for your colors, then," says Sam."If the Louisiana Tigers get after you once, look out!"I'll back the Buck-tails
against the Tigers any day.We are going to have a feast to-night.I have the heart of a beef
boiling in the can yonder; and it is done now.Sit up, boys, get
out your knives and fall to.""We were going to have boiled lion heart for supper, Harry," says
Joe Ruhl with mock apology for the fare, "but we couldn't catch
any lions.Maybe we can
catch a tiger to-morrow, though."Little do we think, as we sit thus cheerily talking about the
blazing fire behind the stone-wall, that it is our last supper
together, and that ere another nightfall two of us will be sleeping
in the silent bivouac of the dead.* * * * *
"Colonel, close up your men, and move on as rapidly as possible."It is the morning of July 1st, and we are crossing a bridge over
a stream, as the staff-officer, having delivered this order for
us, dashes down the line to hurry up the regiments in the rear.We
get up on a high range of hills, from which we have a magnificent
view.Mary went back to the office.John went back to the kitchen.The day is bright, the air is fresh and sweet with the
scent of the new-mown hay, and the sun shines out of an almost
cloudless sky, and as we gaze away off yonder down the valley to
the left--look!Very
small, and miles away, as the faint and long-coming "boom" of the
exploding shell indicates; but it means that something is going on
yonder, away down in the valley, in which, perhaps, we may have a
hand before the day is done.Faint and
far away comes the long-delayed "boom!"echoing over the
hills, as the staff-officer dashes along the lines with orders to
"double-quick!Four miles of almost constant double-quicking is no light work at
any time, least of all on such a day as this memorable first day
of July, for it is hot and dusty.But we are in our own State now,
boys, and the battle is opening ahead, and it is no time to save
breath.On we go, now up a hill, now over a stream, now checking
our headlong rush for a moment, for we _must_ breathe a little.John moved to the office.But
the word comes along the line again, "double-quick," and we settle
down to it with right good-will, while the cannon ahead seem to be
getting nearer and louder.There's little said in the ranks, for
there is little breath for talking, though every man is busy enough
thinking.We all feel, somehow, that our day has come at last--as
indeed it has!We get in through the outskirts of Gettysburg, tearing down the
fences of the town-lots and outlying gardens as we go; we pass a
battery of brass guns drawn up beside the Seminary, some hundred
yards in front of which building, in a strip of meadow-land, we
halt, and rapidly form the line of battle."General, shall we unsling knapsacks?"shouts some one down the
line to our division-general, as he is dashing by."Never mind the knapsacks, boys; it's the State now!"And he plunges his spurs into the flanks of his horse, as he takes
the stake-and-rider fence at a leap, and is away."Unfurl the flags, Color-guard!""Now, forward, double----"
"Colonel, we're not loaded yet!"A laugh runs along the line as, at the command "Load at
will--load!"Mary journeyed to the bathroom.the ramrods make their merry music, and at once the
word is given, "Forward, double-quick!"and the line sweeps up that
rising ground with banners gayly flying, and cheers that rend the
air,--a sight, once seen, never to be forgotten.I suppose my readers wonder what a drummer-boy does in time of
battle.Perhaps they have the same idea I used to have, namely,
that it is the duty of a drummer-boy to beat his drum all the time
the battle rages, to encourage the men or drown the groans of the
wounded!But if they will reflect a moment, they will see that
amid the confusion and noise of battle, there is little chance of
martial music being either heard or heeded.Our colonel had long
ago given us our orders:
"You drummer-boys, in time of an engagement, are to lay aside your
drums and take stretchers and help off the wounded.I expect you to
do this, and you are to remember that, in doing it, you are just
as much helping the battle on as if you were fighting with guns in
your hands."And so we sit down there on our drums and watch the line going
in with cheers.Forthwith we get a smart shelling, for there is
evidently somebody else watching that advancing line besides
ourselves; but they have elevated their guns a little too much, so
that every shell passes quite over the line and ploughs up the
meadow-sod about _us_ in all directions.[Illustration: A SKIRMISH AFTER A HARD DAY'S MAR |
bedroom | Where is Mary? | This the enemy surely cannot know, or
they wouldn't shell the building so hard!We get stretchers at the
ambulances, and start out for the line of battle.We can just see
our regimental colors waving in the orchard, near a log-house about
three hundred yards ahead, and we start out for it--I on the lead,
and Daney behind.There is one of our batteries drawn up to our left a short distance
as we run.It is engaged in a sharp artillery duel with one of
the enemy's, which we cannot see, although we can hear it plainly
enough, and straight between the two our road lies.So, up we
go, Daney and I, at a lively trot, dodging the shells as best we
can, till, panting for breath, we set down our stretcher under an
apple-tree in the orchard, in which, under the brow of the hill,
we find the regiment lying, one or two companies being out on the
skirmish line ahead.I count six men of Company C lying yonder in the grass--killed,
they say, by a single shell.Close beside them lies a tall,
magnificently built man, whom I recognize by his uniform as
belonging to the "Iron Brigade," and therefore probably an Iowa
boy.He lies on his back at full length, with his musket beside
him--calm-looking as if asleep, but having a fatal blue mark on
his forehead and the ashen pallor of death on his countenance.Andy calls me away for a moment to look after some poor fellow
whose arm is off at the shoulder; and it was just time I got away,
too, for immediately a shell plunges into the sod where I had been
sitting, tearing my stretcher to tatters, and ploughing up a great
furrow under one of the boys who had been sitting immediately
behind me, and who thinks, "That was rather close shaving, wasn't
it, now?"The bullets whistling overhead make pretty music with
their ever-varying "z-i-p!and we could imagine them so
many bees, only they have such a terribly sharp sting.They tell
me, too, of a certain cavalry-man (Dennis Buckley, Sixth Michigan
cavalry it was, as I afterwards learned--let history preserve
the brave boy's name) who, having had his horse shot under him,
and seeing that first-named shell explode in Company C with such
disaster, exclaimed, "That is the company for me!"He remained with
the regiment all day, doing good service with his carbine, and he
escaped unhurt!"Here they come, boys; we'll have to go in at them on a charge,
I guess!"Creeping close around the corner of the log-house, I
can see the long lines of gray sweeping up in fine style over the
fields; but I feel the colonel's hand on my shoulder."Keep back, my boy; no use exposing yourself in that way."As I get back behind the house and look around, an old man is seen
approaching our line through the orchard in the rear.He is dressed
in a long blue swallow-tailed coat and high silk hat, and coming up
to the colonel, he asks:
"Would you let an old chap like me have a chance to fight in your
ranks, colonel?""Oh yes, I can shoot, I reckon," says he.Mary travelled to the kitchen."I've got 'em here, sir," says the old man, slapping his hand on
his trousers pocket.And so "old John Burns," of whom every school-boy has heard, takes
his place in the line and loads and fires with the best of them,
and is left wounded and insensible on the field when the day is
done.Reclining there under a tree while the skirmishing is going on in
front and the shells are tearing up the sod around us, I observe
how evidently hard pressed is that battery yonder in the edge of
the wood, about fifty yards to our right.The enemy's batteries
have excellent range on the poor fellows serving it.And when the
smoke lifts or rolls away in great clouds for a moment, we can
see the men running, and ramming, and sighting, and firing, and
swabbing, and changing position every few minutes to throw the
enemy's guns out of range a little.The men are becoming terribly
few, but nevertheless their guns, with a rapidity that seems
unabated, belch forth great clouds of smoke, and send the shells
shrieking over the plain.[Illustration: AT CLOSE QUARTERS THE FIRST DAY AT GETTYSBURG.]Meanwhile, events occur which give us something more to think of
than mere skirmishing beloved brigadier-general, Roy Stone,
stepping out a moment to reconnoitre the enemy's position and
movements, is seen by some sharpshooter off in a tree, and is
carried, severely wounded, into the barn.Our colonel, Langhorne
Wister, assumes command of the brigade.Our regiment, facing
westward, while the line on our right faces to the north, is
observed to be exposed to an enfilading fire from the enemy's
guns, as well as from the long line of gray now appearing in
full sight on our right.So our regiment must form in line and
"change front forward," in order to come in line with the other
regiments.Accomplished swiftly, this new movement brings our line
at once face to face with the enemy's, which advances to within
fifty yards, and exchanges a few volleys, but is soon checked and
staggered by our fire.Away to our left, and consequently on our flank, a
new line appears, rapidly advancing out of the woods a half-mile
away, and there must be some quick and sharp work done now, boys,
or, between the old foes in front and the new ones on our flank,
we shall be annihilated.To clear us of these old assailants in
front before the new line can sweep down on our flank, our brave
colonel, in a ringing command, orders a charge along the whole
line.Then, before the gleaming and bristling bayonets of our
"Buck-tail" brigade, as it yells and cheers, sweeping resistlessly
over the field, the enemy gives way and flies in confusion.But
there is little time to watch them fly, for that new line on our
left is approaching at a rapid pace; and, with shells falling thick
and fast into our ranks, and men dropping everywhere, our regiment
must reverse the former movement by "changing front to rear," and
so resume its original position facing westward, for the enemy's
new line is approaching from that direction, and if it takes us in
flank, we are done for.To "change front to rear" is a difficult movement to execute even
on drill, much more so under severe fire; but it is executed now
steadily and without confusion, yet not a minute too soon!For the
new line of gray is upon us in a mad tempest of lead, supported by
a cruel artillery fire, almost before our line can steady itself to
receive the shock.However, partially protected by a post-and-rail
fence, we answer fiercely, and with effect so terrific that the
enemy's line wavers, and at length moves off by the right flank,
giving us a breathing space for a time.During this struggle, there had been many an exciting scene
all along the line as it swayed backward and forward over the
field,--scenes which we have had no time to mention yet.See yonder, where the colors of the regiment on our right--our
sister regiment, the 149th--have been advanced a little, to draw
the enemy's fire, while our line sweeps on to the charge.There
ensues about the flags a wild _melee_ and close hand-to-hand
encounter.Some of the enemy have seized the colors and are making
off with them in triumph, shouting victory.But a squad of our own
regiment dashes out swiftly, led to the rescue of the stolen colors
by Sergeant John C. Kensill, of Company F, who falls to the ground
before reaching them, and amid yells and cheers and smoke, you see
the battle-flags rise and fall, and sway hither and thither upon
the surging mass, as if tossed on the billows of a tempest, until,
wrenched away by strong arms, they are borne back in triumph to the
line of the 149th.Our colonel is clapping his hand to his cheek,
from which a red stream is pouring; our lieutenant-colonel, H.
S. Huidekoper, is kneeling on the ground, and is having his
handkerchief tied tight around his arm at the shoulder; Major
Thomas Chamberlain and Adjutant Richard L. Ashurst both lie low,
pierced with balls through the chest; one lieutenant is waving his
sword to his men, although his leg is crushed at the knee; three
other officers of the line are lying over there, motionless now
forever.All over the field are strewn men wounded or dead, and
comrades pause a moment in the mad rush to catch the last words
of the dying.Incidents such as these the reader must imagine
for himself, to fill in these swift sketches of how the day was
won--and lost!For the balls which have so far come mainly from our
front, begin now to sing in from our left and right, which means
that we are being flanked.Somehow, away off to our right, a
half-mile or so, our line has given way, and is already on retreat
through the town, while our left is being driven in, and we
ourselves may shortly be surrounded and crushed--and so the retreat
is sounded.Back now along the railroad cut we go, or through the orchard and
the narrow strip of woods behind it, with our dead scattered around
on all sides, and the wounded crying piteously for help.It is a faint cry of a dying man yonder in the
grass, and I _must_ see who it is.Tell me where you are hurt," I ask, kneeling down
beside him; and I see the words come hard, for he is fast dying.Tell--mother--mother----"
Poor fellow, he can say no more.His head falls back, and Willie is
at rest forever!On, now, through that strip of woods, at the other edge of which,
with my back against a stout oak, I stop and look at a beautiful
and thrilling sight.Some reserves are being brought up; infantry
in the centre, the colors flying and officers shouting; cavalry on
the right, with sabres flashing and horses on a trot; artillery on
the left, with guns at full gallop sweeping into position to check
the headlong pursuit,--it is a grand sight, and a fine rally; but
a vain one, for in an hour we are swept off the field, and are in
full retreat through the town.Up through the streets hurries the remnant of our shattered corps,
while the enemy is pouring into the town only a few squares away
from us.There is a tempest of shrieking shells and whistling balls
about our ears.The guns of that battery by the woods we have
dragged along, all the horses being disabled.The artillery-men
load as we go, double-charging with grape and canister.is the cry, and the surging mass crowds
close up on the sidewalks to right and left, leaving a long lane
down the centre of the street, through which the grape and canister
go rattling into the ranks of the enemy's advance-guard.And so, amid scenes which I have neither space nor power to
describe, we gain Cemetery Ridge towards sunset, and throw
ourselves down by the road in a tumult of excitement and grief,
having lost the day through the overwhelming force of numbers, and
yet somehow having gained it too (although as yet we know it not),
for the sacrifice of our corps has saved the position for the
rest of the army, which has been marching all day, and which comes
pouring in over Cemetery Ridge all night long.Ay, the position is saved; but where is our corps?Well may our
division-general, Doubleday, who early in the day succeeded to the
command when our brave Reynolds had fallen, shed tears of grief as
he sits there on his horse and looks over the shattered remains of
that First Army Corps, for there is but a handful of it left.Of
the five hundred and fifty men that marched under our regimental
colors in the morning, but one hundred remain.All our field and
staff officers are gone.Of some twenty captains and lieutenants,
but one is left without a scratch, while of my own company only
thirteen out of fifty-four sleep that night on Cemetery Ridge,
under the open canopy of heaven.There is no roll-call, for
Sergeant Weidensaul will call the roll no more; nor will Joe
Gutelius, nor Joe Ruhl, nor McFadden, nor Henning, nor many others
of our comrades whom we miss, ever answer to their names again
until the world's last great reveille.I had frequently seen pictures of battle-fields, and had often
read about them; but the most terrible scenes of carnage my boyish
imagination had ever figured fell far short of the dreadful reality
as I beheld it after the great battle of the war.It was the
evening of Sunday, July 5, 1863, when, at the suggestion of Andy,
we took our way across the breastworks, stone fences, and redoubts,
to look over the battle-field.Our shattered brigade had been
mainly on reserve during the last three days; and as we made our
way through the troops lying in our front, and over the defences of
stone and earth and ragged rocks, the scene among our troops was
one for the pencil of a great artist.Scattered about irregularly were groups of men discussing the
battle and its results, or relating exciting incidents and
adventures of the fray: here, one fellow pointing out bullet-holes
in his coat or cap, or a great rent in the sleeve of his blouse
made by a flying piece of shell; there, a man laughing as he held
up his crushed canteen, or showed his tobacco-box with a hole in
the lid and a bullet among his "fine cut"; yonder, knots of men
frying steaks and cooking coffee about the fire, or making ready
for sleep.Before we pass beyond our own front line, evidences of the terrible
carnage of the battle environ us on all sides.Mary moved to the bedroom.Fresh, hastily dug
graves are there, with rude head-boards telling the poor fellows'
names and regiments; yonder, a tree on whose smooth bark the names
of three Confederate generals, who fell here in the gallant charge,
have been carved by some thoughtful hand.The trees round about are
chipped by the balls and stripped almost bare by the leaden hail,
while a log-house near by in the clearing has been so riddled with
shot and shell that scarcely a whole shingle is left to its roof.But sights still more fearful await us as we step out beyond the
front line, pick our way carefully among the great rocks, and walk
down the <DW72> to the scene of the fearful charge.The ground has
been soaked with the recent rains, and the heavy mist which hangs
like a pall over the field, together with the growing darkness,
renders objects but indistinctly visible, and all the more ghastly.As the eye ranges over so much of the field as the shrouding
mist allows us to see, we behold a scene of destruction terrible
indeed, if ever there was one in all this wide world!Dismounted
gun-carriages, shattered caissons, knapsacks, haversacks, muskets,
bayonets, accoutrements, scattered over the field in wildest
confusion,--horses (poor creatures!)dead and dying,--and, worst
and most awful of all, dead men by the hundreds!Most of the men in
blue have been buried already, and the pioneers yonder in the mist
are busy digging trenches for the poor fellows in gray.As we pass along, we stop to observe how thickly they lie, here and
there, like grain before the scythe in summer-time,--how firmly
some have grasped their guns, with high, defiant looks,--and how
calm are the countenances of others in their last solemn sleep;
while more than one has clutched in his stiffened fingers a piece
of white paper, which he waved, poor soul, in his death-agony, as
a plea for quarter, when the great wave of battle had receded and
left him there, mortally wounded, on the field.I sicken of the dreadful scene,--can endure it no longer,--and beg
Andy to "Come away!It's too awful to look at any more!"And so we get back to our place in the breastworks with sad |
bathroom | Where is Sandra? | Mary travelled to the kitchen.We lie down--the thirteen of us that are left
in the company--on a big flat rock, sleeping without shelter, and
shielding our faces from the drizzling rain with our caps as best
we may, thinking of the dreadful scene in front there, and of the
sad, heavy hearts there will be all over the land for weary years,
till kindly sleep comes to us, with sweet forgetfulness of all.Our clothes were damp with the heavy mists and drizzling rain
when we awoke next morning, and hastily prepared for the march
off the field and the long pursuit of the foe through the waving
grain-fields of Maryland.Having cooked our coffee in our blackened
tin cups, and roasted our slices of fresh beef, stuck on the end of
a ramrod and thrust into the crackling fires, we were ready in a
moment for the march, for we had but little to pack up.Straight over the field we go, through that valley of death where
the heavy charging had been done, and thousands of men had been
swept away, line after line, in the mad and furious tempest of the
battle.Heavy mists still overhang the field, even dumb Nature
seeming to be in sympathy with the scene, while all around us, as
we march along, are sights at which the most callous turn faint.Interesting enough we find the evidences of conflict, save only
where human life is concerned.[Illustration: ON THE MARCH TO AND FROM GETTYSBURG.]We stop to wonder at the immense furrow yonder which some shell has
ploughed up in the ground; we call one another's attention to a
caisson shivered to atoms by an explosion, or to a tree cut clean
off by a solid shot, or bored through and through by a shell.With
pity we contemplate the poor artillery-horses hobbling, wounded
and mangled, about the field, and we think it a mercy to shoot them
as we pass.Hundreds of torn and distorted bodies
yet on the field, although thousands already lie buried in the
trenches.Even the roughest and rudest among us marches awed and
silent, as he is forced to think of the terrible suffering endured
in this place, and of the sorrow and tears there will be among the
mountains of the North and the rice-fields of the far-off South.We were quiet, I remember, very quiet, as we marched off that great
field; and not only then, but for days afterwards, as we tramped
through the pleasant fields of Maryland.We had little to say, and
we all were pretty busily thinking.Where were the boys who, but
a week before, had marched with us through those same fragrant
fields, blithe as a sunshiny morn in May?And so, as I have told
you, when those young ladies and gentlemen came out to the end
of that Maryland village to meet and cheer us after the battle,
as they had met and cheered us before it, we did not know how
heavy-hearted we were until, in response to their song of "Rally
round the Flag, Boys!"Somehow, after the first hurrah, the
other two stuck in our throats or died away soundless on the air.And so we only said: "God bless you, young friends; but we can't
cheer to-day, you see!"[Illustration]
CHAPTER XII.THROUGH "MARYLAND, MY MARYLAND."Our course now lay through Maryland, and we performed endless
marches and countermarches over turnpikes and through field and
forest.After crossing South Mountain,--but stop, I just _must_ tell you
about that, it will take but a paragraph or two.Wherever General Howe and Cunningham were together, either in New York
or in Philadelphia, the most atrocious cruelties were inflicted upon
the American prisoners in their power, and yet some have endeavoured to
excuse General Howe, on what grounds it is difficult to determine.It
has been said that Cunningham _acted on higher authority than any in
America_, and that Howe in vain endeavored to mitigate the sufferings of
the prisoners.This, however, is not easy of belief.Howe must at least
have wilfully blinded himself to the wicked and murderous violence of
his subordinate.It was his duty to know how the prisoners at his mercy
fared, and not to employ murderers to destroy them by the thousands as
they were destroyed in the prisons of New York and Philadelphia.Oliver Bunce, in His "Romance of the Revolution," thus speaks of the
inhumanity of Cunningham."But of all atrocities those committed in the prisons and prison ships
of New York are the most execrable, and indeed there is nothing in
history to excel the barbarities there inflicted.Twelve thousand
suffered death by their inhuman, cruel, savage, and barbarous usage on
board the filthy and malignant prison ships--adding those who died and
were poisoned in the infected prisons in the city a much larger number
would be necessary to include all those who suffered by command of
British Generals in New York.The scenes enacted in these prisons
almost exceed belief.* * * Cunningham, the like of whom, for unpitying,
relentless cruelty, the world has not produced, * * * thirsted for
blood, and took an eager delight in murder."He remained in New York until November, 1783, when he embarked on board
a British man-of-war and America was no longer cursed with his presence.He is said to have been hung for the crime of forgery on the tenth of
August, 1791.The newspapers of the day contained the accounts of his
death, and his dying confession.These accounts have, however, been
discredited by historians who have in vain sought the English records
for the date of his death.It is said that no man of the name of
Cunningham was hung in England in the year 1791.It is not possible
to find any official British record of his transactions while Provost
Marshal, and there seems a mystery about the disappearance of his books
kept while in charge of the Provost, quite as great as the mystery which
envelopes his death.But whether or no he confessed his many crimes;
whether or no he received in this world a portion of the punishment
he deserved, it is certain that the crimes were committed, and duly
recorded in the judgment book of God, before whose awful bar he has been
called to account for every one of them.CHAPTER VI
THE CASE OF JABEZ FITCH
In presenting our gleanings from the books, papers, letters, pamphlets,
and other documents that have been written on the subject of our
prisoners during the Revolution, we will endeavor to follow some
chronological order, so that we may carry the story on month by month
and year by year until that last day of the British possession of New
York when Sergeant O'Keefe threw down upon the pavement of the Provost
the keys of that prison, and made his escape on board a British
man-of-war.One of the prisoners taken on Long Island in the summer of 1776 was
Captain Jabez Fitch, who was captured on the 27th of August, of that
year.While a prisoner he contracted a scorbutic affection which
rendered miserable thirty years of his life.On the 29th of August he was taken to the transport Pacific.The officers, of whom there were about twenty-five,
were in one boat, and the men "being between three and four hundred
in several other Boats, and had their hands tied behind them.In this
Situation we were carried by several Ships, where there appeared great
numbers of Women on Deck, who were very liberal of their Curses and
Execrations: they were also not a little Noisy in their Insults, but
clap'd their hands and used other peculiar gestures in so Extraordinary
a Manner yet they were in some Danger of leaping overboard in this
surprising Extacy."On arriving at the Pacific, a very large transport
ship, they were told that all officers and men together were to be
shut down below deck.Mary moved to the bedroom.The master of the ship was a brute named Dunn.At
sundown all were driven down the hatches, with curses and execrations."Both ye lower Decks were very full of Durt," and the rains had leaked
in and made a dreadful sloppy mess of the floor, so that the mud was
half over their shoes.At the same time they were so crowded that only
half their number could lie down at a time."Some time in the Evening a number of the Infernal Savages came down
with a lanthorn and loaded two small pieces or Cannon with Grape shot,
which were pointed through two Ports in such a manner as to Rake ye deck
where our people lay, telling us at ye same time with many Curses yt in
Case of any Disturbance or the least noise in ye Night, they were to be
Imediately fired on ye Damned Rebels."When allowed to come on deck
"we were insulted by those Blackguard Villians in the most vulgar
manner....We were allowed no water that was fit for a Beast to Drink,
although they had plenty of good Water on board, which was used
plentifully by the Seamen, etc."Lieutenant Dowdswell, with a party of Marines sent on board for our
Guard; this Mr.Mary went to the hallway.Dowdswell treated us with considerable humanity, and
appeared to be a Gentleman, nor were the Marines in General so Insolent
as the Ships Crew....On the 31st the Commissary of Prisoners came on
Board and took down the names, etc, of the prisoners....he told us
Colonel Clark and many other Officers were confined at Flatbush.On
Sunday, September 1st, we were removed to the ship Lord Rochford,
commanded by one Lambert.Most of
the Officers were lodged on the quarter deck.Some nights we were
considerably wet with rain."The Lord Rochford lay off New Utrecht.On the third of September the
officers that had been confined at Flatbush were brought on board the
snow called the Mentor."On the fifth," says Fitch, in his written
account, of which this is an abstract, "we were removed on board this
Snow, which was our prison for a long time.* * * We were about 90 in
number, and ye Field Officers had Liberty of ye Cabbin, etc.* * * This
Snow was commanded by one Davis, a very worthless, low-lived fellow.* *
* When we first met on board the Mentor we spent a considerable time in
Relating to each other ye particular Circumstances of our first being
Taken, and also ye various Treatment with which we met on yt occasion,
nor was this a disagreeable Entertainment in our Melancholy Situation.* * * Many of the officers and men were almost Destitute of Clothes,
several having neither Britches, Stockings or Shoes, many of them when
first taken were stripped entirely naked.Corporal Raymond of the 17th
Regiment after being taken and Stripped was shamefully insulted and
Abused by Gen'l Dehightler, seized by ye Hair of his head, thrown on
the ground, etc.Some present, who had some small degree of humanity in
their Composition, were so good as to favor them (the prisoners) with
some old durty worn Garments, just sufficient to cover their nakedness,
and in this Situation (they) were made Objects of Ridicule for ye
Diversion of those Foreign Butchers."One Sam Talman (an Indian fellow belonging to the 17th Regiment) was
Stripped and set up as a mark for them to Shoot at for Diversion or
Practice, by which he Received two severe wounds, in the neck and arm
* * * afterwards they destroyed him with many hundreds others by
starvation in the prisons of New York."On October first orders came to land the prisoners in New York.Loring
conducted us to a very large house on the West side of Broadway in the
corner south of Warren Street near Bridewell, where we were assigned a
small yard back of the house, and a Stoop in ye Front for our Walk.We
were also Indulged with Liberty to pass and Repass to an adjacent pump
in Ye Street."Although paroled the officers were closely confined in this place for
six weeks.Their provisions, he says: "were insufficient to preserve ye
Connection between Soul and Body, yet ye Charitable People of this City
were so good as to afford us very considerable Relief on this account,
but it was ye poor and those who were in low circumstances only who were
thoughtful of our Necessities, and provisions were now grown scarce and
Excessive dear.* * * Their unparalleled generosity was undoubtedly ye
happy means of saving many Lives, notwithstanding such great numbers
perished with hunger."Here we found a number of Officers made prisoners since we were,
Colonel Selden, Colonel Moulton, etc.They were first confined in Ye
City Hall.Colonel Selden died the Fryday after we arrived.He was
Buried in the New Brick Churchyard, and most of the Officers were
allowed to attend his Funeral.Thatcher of the British army attended
him, a man of great humanity."Captain Fitch declares that there were two thousand wounded British
and Hessians in the hospitals in New York after the battle of Fort
Washington, which is a much larger estimate than we have found in other
accounts.He says that the day of the battle was Saturday, November
16th, and that the prisoners were not brought to New York until the
Monday following.They were then confined in the Bridewell, as the City
Jail was then called, and in several churches.Some of them were soon
afterwards sent on board a prison ship, which was probably the Whitby."A number of the officers were sent to our place of confinement; Colonel
Rawlings, Colonel Hobby, Major (Otho) Williams, etc.Rawlings and
Williams were wounded, others were also wounded, among them Lieutenant
Hanson (a young Gent'n from Va.)who was Shot through ye Shoulder with a
Musq't Ball of which wound he Died ye end of Dec'r."Many of ye charitable Inhabitants were denied admittance when they came
to Visit us."On the twentieth of November most of the officers were set at liberty on
parole."Ye first Objects of our attention were ye poor men who had been
unhappily Captivated with us.They had been landed about ye same time yt
we were, and confined in several Churches and other large Buildings
and although we had often Received Intelligence from them with ye most
Deplorable Representation of their Miserable Situation, yet when we came
to visit them we found their sufferings vastly superior to what we had
been able to conceive.Nor are words sufficient to convey an Adequate
Idea of their Unparalled Calamity.Well might ye Prophet say, 'They yt
be slain with ye sword are better than they yt be slain with hunger, for
these pine away, etc.'"Their appearance in general Rather Resembled dead Corpses than living
men.Indeed great numbers had already arrived at their long home, and ye
Remainder appeared far advanced on ye same Journey: their accommodations
were in all respects vastly Inferior to what a New England Farmer would
have provided for his Cattle, and although ye Commissary pretended to
furnish them with two thirds of ye allowance of ye King's Troops, yet
they were cheated out of one half of that.They were many times entirely
neglected from Day to Day, and received no Provision at all; they were
also frequently Imposed upon in Regard to ye Quality as well as Quantity
of their provision.Especially in the Necessary article of Bread of
which they often received such Rotten and mouldy stuff, as was entirely
unfit for use."* * * A large number of ye most feeble were Removed down to ye Quaker
Meeting House on Queen Street, where many hundreds of them perished in
a much more miserable Situation than ye dumb Beasts, while those whose
particular business it was to provide them relief, paid very little or
no attention to their unparalleled sufferings.This house I understand
was under ye Superintendence of one Dr.Dibuke * * * who had been
at least once convicted of stealing (in Europe) and had fled to this
country for protection: It was said he often made application of his
Cane among ye Sick instead of other medicines.Sandra went back to the bathroom.* * * I have often been
in danger of being stabbed for attempting to speak to a prisoner in ye
yard.* * *
"About the 24th December a large number of prisoners were embarked on
a ship to be sent to New England.What privates of the 17th Regiment
remained living were Included in this number, but about one half had
already perished in Prison.I was afterwards informed that the Winds
being unfavourable and their accommodations and provisions on board ye
Ship being very similar to what they had been provided |
bedroom | Where is John? | "Soon after there was large numbers of the prisoners sent off by land
both to the Southward and Eastward so yt when ye Officers were Removed
over into Long Island in the latter part of January there remained but
very few of the privates in that City except those released by Death
which number was supposed to be about 1800."General Robertson, so famous for Politeness and Humanity was commanding
Officer at New York during the aforesaid treatment of the prisoners.Mary travelled to the kitchen.Governor Scheene was said to have visited the prisoners at the Churches
and manifested great dissatisfaction at their ill Usage, yet I was never
able to learn that ye poor Sufferers Rec'd any Advantage thereby."Captain Jabez Fitch was a prisoner eighteen months.After the Revolution
he lived in Vermont, where he died in 1812.CHAPTER VII
THE HOSPITAL DOCTOR--A TORY'S ACCOUNT OF NEW YORK IN 1777--ETHAN ALLEN'S
ACCOUNT OF THE PRISONERS
The doctor spoken of by Jabez Fitch as Dr.Dibuke is perhaps the
notorious character described by Mr.Elias Boudinot in the Journal from
which we have already quoted.On page 35 of this book he gives us the
following:
"AN ACCOUNT OF THE FRENCHMAN WHO POISONED.AMERICAN PRISONERS IN NEW
YORK, AND WAS REWARDED FOR SO DOING BY GENERAL, HOWE
"When the British Army took possession of New York they found a
Frenchman in Goal, under Condemnation for Burglery and Robbery.This
fellow was set over our Prisoners in the Hospital, as a Surgeon, though
he knew not the least principle of the Art.McHenry, a Physician
of note in the American Army, and then a Prisoner, finding the extreme
ignorance of this man, and that he was really murdering our people,
remonstrated to the British Director of the Hospital, and refused
visiting our sick Prisoners if this man was not dismissed.A British
Officer, convinced that he had killed several of our People, lodged
a complaint against him, when he was ordered to be tryed by a Court
Martial, but the morning before the Court were to set, this Officer was
ordered off to St Johns, and the Criminal was discharged for want of
Evidence.During this man having the Charge of our Prisoners in the
Hospital, two of our Men deserted from the Hospital and came into our
Army when they were ordered to me for Examination.That they were sick in the Hospital under the care of the above
Frenchman.That he came and examined them, and gave to each of them a
dose of Physick to be taken immediately.A Young Woman, their Nurse,
made them some private signs not to take the Physick immediately.After
the Doctor was gone, she told them she suspected the Powder was poison.That she had several times heard this Frenchman say that he would have
ten Rebels dead in such a Room and five dead in such a Room the next
morning, and it always so happened.They asked her what they should do:
She told them their only chance was to get off, sick as they were,
that she would help them out and they must shift for themselves.They
accordingly got off safe, and brought the Physick with them.This was
given to a Surgeon's Mate, who afterwards reported that he gave it to a
Dog, and that he died in a very short time.I afterwards saw an account
in a London Paper of this same Frenchman being taken up in England for
some Crime and condemned to dye.At his Execution he acknowledged the
fact of his having murdered a great number of Rebels in the Hospitals at
New York by poyson.That on his reporting to General Howe the number
of the Prisoners dead, he raised his pay.He further confessed that he
poisoned the wells used by the American Flying Camp, which caused such
an uncommon Mortality among them in the year 1776."Mary moved to the bedroom.Jabez Fitch seems to have been mistaken in thinking that General
Robertson instead of Lord Howe was commanding in New York at this time.We will now give the account written by a Tory gentleman, who lived in
New York during a part of the Revolution, of Loring, the Commissary of
Prisons, appointed by General Howe in 1776.Judge Thomas Jones was a
noted loyalist of the day.Finding it inconvenient to remain in this
country after the war, he removed to England, where he died in 1792,
having first completed his "History of New York during the Revolution."He gives a much larger number of prisoners in that city in the year
1776 than do any of the other authorities.We will, however, give his
statements just as they were written."Upon the close of the campaign in 1776 there were not less than 10,000
prisoners (Sailors included) within the British lines in New York.A
Commissary of Prisoners was therefore appointed, and one Joshua Loring,
a Bostonian, was commissioned to the office with a guinea a day, and
rations of all kinds for himself and family.The General, Sir William
Howe, was fond of her.He fingered the cash:
the General enjoyed Madam.Everybody supposing the next campaign (should
the rebels ever risk another) would put a final period to the rebellion.Loring was determined to make the most of his commission and by
appropriating to his own use nearly two thirds of the rations allowed
the prisoners, he actually starved to death about three hundred of the
poor wretches before an exchange took place, and which was not until
February, 1777, and hundreds that were alive at the time were so
emaciated and enfeebled for the want of provisions, that numbers died on
the road on their way home, and many lived but a few days after reaching
their habitations.The war continuing, the Commissaryship of Prisoners
grew so lucrative that in 1778 the Admiral thought proper to appoint one
for naval prisoners.Mary went to the hallway.Upon the French War a Commissary was appointed for
France.When Spain joined France another was appointed for Spain.When
Great Britain made war upon Holland a Commissary was appointed for
Dutch prisoners.Each had his guinea a day, and rations for himself and
family.Besides, the prisoners were half starved, as the Commissaries
filched their provisions, and disposed of them for their own use.It
is a known fact, also, that whenever an exchange was to take place the
preference was given to those who had, or could procure, the most money
to present to the Commissaries who conducted the exchange, by which
means large sums of money were unjustly extorted and demanded from the
prisoners at every exchange, to the scandal and disgrace of Britons.We had five Commissaries of Prisoners, when one could have done all the
business.Each Commissary had a Deputy, a Clerk, a Messenger in full
pay, with rations of every kind."As Judge Jones was an ardent Tory we would scarcely imagine that he
would exaggerate in describing the corruptions of the commissaries.He greatly deplored the cruelties with which he taxed General Howe and
other officials, and declared that these enormities prevented all hopes
of reconciliation with Great Britain.We will next quote from the "Life of Ethan Allen," written by himself,
as he describes the condition of the prisoners in the churches in New
York, more graphically than any of his contemporaries.ETHAN ALLEN'S ACCOUNT OF THE AMERICAN PRISONERS
"Our number, about thirty-four, were all locked up in one common large
room, without regard to rank, education, or any other accomplishment,
where we continued from the setting to the rising sun, and as sundry of
them were infected with the gaol and other distempers, the furniture
of this spacious room consisted principally of excrement tubs.We
petitioned for a removal of the sick into hospitals, but were denied.Sandra went back to the bathroom.We remonstrated against the ungenerous usage of being confined with
the privates, as being contrary to the laws and customs of nations, and
particularly ungrateful in them, in consequence of the gentleman-like
usage which the British imprisoned officers met with in America; and
thus we wearied ourselves petitioning and remonstrating, but o no
purpose at all; for General Massey, who commanded at Halifax, was as
inflexible as the d---l himself.* * * Among the prisoners were five
who had a legal claim to a parole, James Lovel, Esq; Captain Francis
Proctor; a Mr.Rowland, Master of a Continental armed vessel; a Mr.* * * The prisoners were ordered to go
on board of a man-of-war, which was bound for New York, but two of them
were not able to go on board and were left in Halifax: one died and
the other recovered.This was about the 12th of October, 1776.* * * We
arrived before New York and cast an anchor the latter part of October,
where we remained several days, and where Captain Smith informed me that
he had recommended me to Admiral Howe, and General Sir Wm.Howe, as a
gentleman of honor and veracity, and desired that I might be treated
as such.Captain Burk was then ordered on board a prison ship in the
harbor.I took my leave of Captain Smith, and with the other prisoners
was sent on board a transport ship.* * * Some of the last days of
November the prisoners were landed at New York, and I was admitted to
parole with the other officers, viz: Proctor, Rowland, and Taylor.The privates were put into the filthy churches in New York, with the
distressed prisoners that were taken at Fort Washington, and the second
night Sergeant Roger Moore, who was bold and enterprising, found means
to make his escape, with every of the remaining prisoners that were
taken with me, except three who were soon after exchanged: so that out
of thirty-one prisoners who went with me the round exhibited in these
sheets, two only died with the enemy, and three only were exchanged, one
of whom died after he came within our lines.All the rest at different
times made their escape from the enemy."I now found myself on parole, and restricted to the limits of the
city of New York, where I soon projected means to live in some measure
agreeable to my rank, though I was destitute of cash.My constitution
was almost worn out by such a long and barbarous captivity.* * * In
consequence of a regular diet and exercise my blood recruited, and
my nerves in a great measure recovered their former tone * * * in the
course of six months.John went to the bedroom."* * * Those who had the misfortune to fall into the enemy's hands at
Fort Washington * * * were reserved from immediate death to famish
and die with hunger: in fine the word rebel' was thought by the enemy
sufficient to sanctify whatever cruelties they were pleased to inflict,
death itself not excepted.* * *
"The prisoners who were brought to New York were crowded into churches,
and environed with slavish Hessian guards, a people of a strange
language * * * and at other times by merciless Britons, whose mode of
communicating ideas being unintelligible in this country served only
to tantalize and insult the helpless and perishing; but above all the
hellish delight and triumph of the tories over them, as they were dying
by hundreds.This was too much for me to bear as a spectator; for I saw
the tories exulting over the dead bodies of their countrymen.I have
gone into the churches and seen sundry of the prisoners in the agonies
of death, in consequence of very hunger; and others speechless and
near death, biting pieces of chips; others pleading, for God's sake for
something to eat, and at the same time shivering with the cold.Hollow
groans saluted my ears, and despair seemed to be imprinted on every of
their countenances.The filth in these churches, in consequence of the
fluxes, was almost beyond description.I have carefully sought to direct
my steps so as to avoid it, but could not.They would beg for God's sake
for one copper or morsel of bread.Daniel travelled to the garden.I have seen in one of the churches
seven dead, at the same time, lying among the excrements of their
bodies."It was a common practice with the enemy to convey the dead from these
filthy places in carts, to be slightly buried, and I have seen whole
gangs of tories making derision, and exulting over the dead, saying
'There goes another load of d----d rebels!'I have observed the British
soldiers to be full of their blackguard jokes and vaunting on those
occasions, but they seemed to me to be less malignant than the Tories."The provision dealt out to the prisoners was by no means sufficient for
the support of life.It was deficient in Quantity, and much more so in
Quality.The prisoners often presented me with a sample of their bread,
which I certify was damaged to such a degree that it was loathsome and
unfit to be eaten, and I am bold to aver it as my opinion, that it had
been condemned and was of the very worst sort.I have seen and been
fed upon damaged bread, in the course of my captivity, and observed the
quality of such bread as has been condemned by the enemy, among which
was very little so effectually spoiled as what was dealt out to these
prisoners.Their allowance of meat, as they told me, was quite trifling
and of the basest sort.I never saw any of it, but was informed, bad as
it was, it was swallowed almost as quick as they got hold of it.I saw
some of them sucking bones after they were speechless; others who could
yet speak and had the use of their reason, urged me in the strongest
and most pathetic manner, to use my interest in their behalf: 'For you
plainly see,' said they,'that we are devoted to death and destruction,'
and after I had examined more particularly into their truly deplorable
condition and had become more fully apprized of the essential facts, I
was persuaded that it was a premeditated and systematized plan of the
British council to destroy the youths of our land, with a view thereby
to deter the country and make it submit to their despotism: but as I
could not do them any material service, and by any public attempt for
that purpose I might endanger myself by frequenting places the most
nauseous and contagious that could be conceived of, I refrained going
into the churches, but frequently conversed with such of the prisoners
as were admitted to come out into the yard, and found that the
systematical usage still continued.The guard would often drive me away
with their fixed bayonets.A Hessian one day followed me five or six
rods, but by making use of my legs, I got rid of the lubber."Sometimes I could obtain a little conversation notwithstanding their
severities."I was in one of the yards and it was rumoured among those in the
church, and sundry of the prisoners came with their usual complaints to
me, and among the rest a large-boned, tall young man, as he told me from
Pennsylvania, who was reduced to a mere skeleton.He said he was glad
to see me before he died, which he had expected to have done last night,
but was a little revived.He further informed me that he and his brother
had been urged to enlist into the British army, but had both resolved to
die first; that his brother had died last night, in consequence of that
resolve, and that he expected shortly to follow him; but I made the
other prisoners stand a little off and told him with a low voice to
enlist; he then asked whether it was right in the sight of God?I
assured him that it was, and that duty to himself obliged him to deceive
the British by enlisting and deserting the first opportunity; upon which
he answered with transport that he would enlist.I charged him not to
mention my name as his adviser, lest it should get air and I should be
closely confined, in consequence of it."The integrity of these suffering prisoners is incredible.Many hundreds
of them, I am confident, submitted to death rather than enlist in the
British service, which, I am informed, they most generally were
pressed to do.I was astonished at the resolution of the two brothers,
particularly; it seems that they could not be stimulated to such
exertions of heroism from ambition, as they were but obscure soldiers.Strong indeed must the internal principle of virtue be which supported
them to brave death, and one of them went through the operation, as did
many hundreds others * * * These things will have their proper effect
upon the generous and brave."The officers on parole were most of them zealous, if possible, to
afford the miserable soldiers relief, and often consulted with |
office | Where is Sandra? | Some projected that all the officers should go in procession to General
Howe and plead the cause of the perishing soldiers, but this proposal
was negatived for the following reasons: viz: because that General Howe
must needs be well acquainted and have a thorough knowledge of the state
and condition of the prisoners in every of their wretched apartments,
and that much more particular and exact than any officer on parole could
be supposed to have, as the General had a return of the circumstances of
the prisoners by his own officers every morning, of the number who
were alive, as also of the number who died every twenty-four hours: and
consequently the bill of mortality, as collected from the daily returns,
lay before him with all the material situations and circumstances of the
prisoners, and provided the officers should go in procession to General
Howe, according to the projection, it would give him the greatest
affront, and that he would either retort upon them, that it was no part
of their parole to instruct him in his conduct to prisoners; that
they were mutinying against his authority, and, by affronting him, had
forfeited their parole, or that, more probably, instead of saying one
word to them, would order them all into as wretched a confinement as the
soldiers whom they sought to relieve, for at that time the British, from
the General to the private centinel, were in full confidence, nor did
they so much as hesitate, but that they should conquer the country."Thus the consultation of the officers was confounded and broken to
pieces, in consequence of the dread which at the time lay on their minds
of offending General Howe; for they conceived so murderous a tryant
would not be too good to destroy even the officers on the least pretence
of an affront, as they were equally in his power with the soldiers;
and as General Howe perfectly understood the condition of the private
soldiers, it was argued that it was exactly such as he and his council
had devised, and as he meant to destroy them it would be to no purpose
for them to try to dissuade him from it, as they were helpless and
liable to the same fate, on giving the least affront.Indeed anxious
apprehensions disturbed them in their then circumstances."Meantime mortality raged to such an intolerable degree among the
prisoners that the very school boys in the street knew the mental design
of it in some measure; at least they knew that they were starved
to death.Some poor women contributed to their necessity till their
children were almost starved; and all persons of common understanding
knew that they were devoted to the cruellest and worst of deaths."It was also proposed by some to make a written representation of the
condition of the soldiery, and the officers to sign it, and that it
should be couched in such terms, as though they were apprehensive that
the General was imposed upon by his officers, in their daily returns to
him of the state and condition of the prisoners, and that therefor the
officers moved with compassion, were constrained to communicate to him
the facts relative to them, nothing doubting but that they would meet
with a speedy redress; but this proposal was most generally negatived
also, and for much the same reason offered in the other case; for it was
conjectured that General Howe's indignation would be moved against such
officers as should attempt to whip him over his officers' backs; that he
would discern that he himself was really struck at, and not the officers
who made the daily returns; and therefor self preservation deterred
the officers from either petitioning or remonstrating to General Howe,
either verbally or in writing; as also they considered that no valuable
purpose to the distressed would be obtained."I made several rough drafts on the subject, one of which I exhibited
to the Colonels Magaw, Miles, and Atlee; and they said that they would
consider the matter.Soon after I called on them, and some of the
gentlemen informed me that they had written to the General on the
subject, and I concluded that the gentlemen thought it best that they
should write without me, as there was such spirited aversion subsisting
between the British and me."Ethan Allen goes on to say: "Our little army was retreating in New
Jersey and our young men murdered by hundreds in New York."He then
speaks of Washington's success at Trenton in the following terms: "This
success had a mighty effect on General Howe and his council, and
roused them to a sense of their own weakness.* * * Their obduracy and
death-designing malevolence in some measure abated or was suspended.The prisoners, who were condemned to the most wretched and cruellest
of deaths, and who survived to this period, _though most of them died
before,_ were immediately ordered to be sent within General Washington's
lines, for an exchange, and in consequence of it were taken out of their
filthy and poisonous places of confinement, and sent out of New York to
their friends in haste.Several of them fell dead in the streets of New
York, as they attempted to walk to the vessels in the harbor, for their
intended embarkation.What number lived to reach the lines I cannot
ascertain, but, from concurrent representations which I have since
received from numbers of people who lived in and adjacent to such parts
of the country, where they were received from the enemy, _I apprehend
that most of them died in consequence of the vile usage of the enemy._
Some who were eye witnesses of the scene of mortality, more especially
in that part which continued after the exchange took place, are of
opinion that it was partly in consequence of a slow poison; but this
I refer to the doctors who attended them, who are certainly the best
judges."Upon the best calculation I have been able to make from personal
knowledge, and the many evidences I have collected in support of the
facts, I learn that, of the prisoners taken on Long Island and Fort
Washington and some few others, at different times and places, about
two thousand perished with hunger, cold, and sickness, occasioned by the
filth of their prisons, at New York; and a number more on their passage
to the continental lines; most of the residue who reached their
friends having received their death wound, could not be restored by
the assistance of their physicians and friends: but like their brother
prisoners, fell a sacrifice to the relentless and scientific barbarity
of the British.I took as much pains as the circumstances would admit of
to inform myself not only of matters of fact, but likewise of the very
design and aims of General Howe and his council, the latter of which I
predicated on the former, and submit it to the candid public."CHAPTER VIII
THE ACCOUNT OF ALEXANDER GRAYDON
One of the most interesting and best memoirs of revolutionary times is
that written by Alexander Graydon, and as he was taken prisoner at Fort
Washington, and closely connected with the events in New York during the
winter of 1776-7, we will quote here his account of his captivity.He describes the building of Fort Washington in July of 1776 by the men
of Magaw's and Hand's regiments.It was
poorly built for defence, and not adapted for a siege.Graydon was a captain in Colonel Shee's Regiment, but, for some reason
or other, Shee went home just before the battle was fought, and his
troops were commanded by Cadwallader in his stead.Graydon puts the
number of privates taken prisoner at 2706 and the officers at about 210.Bedinger, as we have already seen, states that there were 2673 privates
and 210 officers.He was a man of painstaking accuracy, and it is
quite probable that his account is the most trustworthy.Mary travelled to the kitchen.As one of the
privates was Bedinger's own young brother, a boy of fifteen, whom he
undoubtedly visited as often as possible, while Graydon only went
once to the prisons, perhaps Bedinger had the best opportunities for
computing the number of captives."Perhaps something worse, father," said Ulric, curtly, "but he would
not have grown into a milksop like that, you may take my word for it."Mary moved to the bedroom.The conversation, which again seemed taking a critical turn, was now
fortunately brought to an end.There came a knock at the door, and a
servant, in the rich and somewhat over-decorated livery of the Berkow
family, entered without waiting for an invitation, and greeted the
Manager with a "Good-day."I am to tell your Ulric--oh!Her ladyship wishes to speak to you; I am to say she will
expect you over there at seven o'clock sharp."These two exclamations were uttered by the old man and his son, in a
tone of equal surprise; as to Martha, she stood looking at the man in
blank astonishment.He continued equably:
"There must have been something up between you and the Director,
Hartmann.He was with her ladyship quite early to-day, though, in a
usual way, she does not trouble herself about the gentlemen's business
matters, and I was sent off to you at full speed.There is plenty to do
up at the house, I assure you; all the gentlemen from the works are
invited to dinner, and there are all sorts of grandees coming out from
the town too.... But I have not a moment's time.Be punctual, seven
o'clock, just after dinner."The man seemed really in a hurry; he nodded shortly, by way of adieu to
all present, and went."They know already of your ridiculous
refusal up there.Now look to yourself to find a way of settling the
business."quickly and eagerly asked Martha, who had
remained silent so far."Do you suppose
he can say no again, when the mistress sends expressly for him.But you
and he would both be capable of it, really!"She drew nearer her cousin, and
laid her hand on his arm.Mary went to the hallway.Ulric stood looking darkly at the ground, as though a struggle were
going on within him.I should be glad to know what her ladyship can be
pleased to want with me now, after passing a whole week without once
taking the trouble to inquire"----
He stopped short, as if he felt he had said too much.Martha's hand
slid from his arm, and she stepped back, but the Manager said with a
sigh,
"Well, Heaven save us, if you go behaving in that way up yonder!To
make things worse, old Berkow came down yesterday evening.If you two
get together, your time here as Deputy is over, and mine as Manager
will not be long.A contemptuous expression played about the young man's lips.They know how fond you are of the
'family,' and what trouble your unnatural son causes you.He won't even
bow down to his betters!No one will quarrel with you, and I"----here
Ulric drew himself up to his full height, in defiant self-assertion, "I
shall stay on here for a time, at least.They dare not send me away,
they are far too much afraid of me."He turned his back on his father, pushed open the door, and walked out.The Manager clapped his hands together, and was about to send another
thundering reproof after his rebellious son, but Martha stopped him, by
again, and still more decidedly this time, taking Ulric's part.Tired
of the strife at last, the old man caught hold of his pipe, and
prepared to go out likewise."Hark ye, Martha," said he, turning round in the doorway.There is no rebel living but can be over-matched.You have
found your master in Ulric, and he will find his, too, as sure as my
name is Gotthold Hartmann!"Meanwhile preparations were being made up at the great house for the
grand dinner which was to take place that day.Servants ran up and down
stairs, cooks and maids bustled about the kitchens and pantries.There
was everywhere something to be attended to, some alteration to be made,
and the whole house offered that appearance of busy unrest which
usually precedes a festivity.Sandra went back to the bathroom.The quiet reigning in young Berkow's rooms seemed even greater by the
contrast.The curtains were let down, the _portieres_ closed, and in
the adjoining apartments, the servants glided noiselessly about over
the thick carpets, putting everything in order.Their master was
accustomed to dream away the greater part of the day, lying at full
length on his sofa, and he did not care to be disturbed by even the
slightest noise.The young heir lay, with half-closed eyes, stretched on a divan.He
held a book in his hand, which he was, or rather had been, reading, for
the same page had remained long open before him; probably he had found
the trouble of turning the leaves too great.Presently, the book fell
from his negligent hold, and slipped from his long delicate fingers on
to the floor.John went to the bedroom.It would not have been a great exertion to stoop and pick
it up, still less to call for that purpose the busy servants near at
hand, but he did neither.The book lay on the carpet, and Arthur passed
the next quarter of an hour without changing his position or moving in
the slightest degree.His face showed sufficiently that he was not
meditating on what he had read, he was not even day-dreaming; he was
simply feeling himself unutterably bored.Daniel travelled to the garden.The somewhat ruthless opening of a door which led from the corridor
into the neighbouring room, and the sound of a loud imperious voice
within, put an end to this interesting state of things.The elder
Berkow asked if his son were still there, and, on receiving a reply in
the affirmative, he sent the servant away, pushed back the heavy
_portieres_, and entered the inner room.His countenance was flushed as
though from vexation or anger, and the cloud resting on his brow grew
darker as he caught sight of Arthur."So you are still lying on that sofa, just as you were three hours
ago!"Arthur was not accustomed, it seemed, to show his father even the
outward forms of respect.He had taken no notice of his entrance, and
it did not now occur to him to modify the extreme negligence of his
attitude.The lines on his father's brow grew deeper still."Your apathy and indolence really begin to pass belief.It is even
worse here than in town.I hoped you would conform to my wishes, and
take some interest in the success of a concern which was started solely
on your account, but"----
"Good Heavens, sir!"said the young man, "you do not want me to trouble
myself about workmen and machinery and such things, do you?I never
have done so, and I can't, for my life, comprehend why you should have
sent us here of all places.I am nearly bored to death in this
wilderness."He spoke languidly, but quite in the tone of a spoilt darling,
accustomed everywhere, and under all circumstances, to see his caprices
taken into account, and to whom even the suggestion of anything
unpleasant was an offence.Something must have happened, however, to
irritate his father too much for him to yield this time, as was his
custom.Daniel went to the hallway."I am pretty well used to your being bored to death in every place and
in all company, whilst I have to bear all the care and burden alone.Just now, worries are coming in upon me on all sides.It cost
sacrifices enough to free the Windegs from their obligations, and here
I find nothing but vexation and disagreeables without end.I have had a
meeting this morning of all the superior officials with the Director at
their head, and I was forced to listen to complaints, and nothing but
complaints.Sandra went to the office.Extensive repairs in the shafts--increase of wages--new
ventilators.as if I had time and money for that now!"Arthur listened without any show of sympathy; if his face expressed
anything, it was the desire he felt that his father would go away.But
the latter was not so obliging; he began to pace up and down the room."This comes of trusting to one's agents and their reports!For the last
six months I have not been here in person, and everything is going to
the deuce.They talk of a ferment of discontent among the hands, of
grave symptoms and danger threatening, as if they had not full
authority to draw the reins as tight as they choose.A certain Hartmann
is pointed out to me as chief agitator.He is looked upon by the other
miners as a sort of Messiah, and he is secretly stirring up the whole
works to revolt.When I ask why, in Heaven's name, they have not sent
the |
bedroom | Where is Sandra? | So far, he has given no grounds for dissatisfaction on the score
of his work, and his comrades fairly worship him.There would be a
strike on the works if he were sent away without sufficient motive.I
took the liberty of telling these gentlemen that they were a set of
timid hares, and that I would take the thing into hand myself.The
shafts will remain as they are, and as to the question of wages, not an
iota of difference shall be made in them.The least attempt at a
rising will be met with the utmost severity, and I shall dismiss the
plotter-in-chief myself this very day."said Arthur suddenly, half raising himself on
the sofa."Because it was precisely this Hartmann who stopped our horses and
saved us from certain death."His father uttered an exclamation of suppressed wrath.No, then, certainly we cannot
send him off at a minute's notice, we must wait for an opportunity.By
the by, Arthur," with a displeased look at his son, "it was rather too
bad that I should have to hear of that accident from a stranger.You
did not think it worth while to write a syllable to me about it."returned the young man, resting his head wearily on his
hand."The thing was happily over, and, besides, they have nearly worn
the life out of us up here with their sympathy, their congratulations,
their questions, and their palaver about it.I do not think one's life
is so valuable it is worth making such a fuss about its being saved."said the father, looking keenly at him."I
should have thought, as you were only married the day before"----
Arthur answered only with a shrug.Berkow's eyes rested on him with a
still more searching gaze."As we are on the subject--what is all this between you and your wife?"asked he, all at once, without anything by way of preface.repeated Arthur, as though trying to remember
who was meant.I expect to take by surprise a newly-married
pair in their honeymoon, and I find a state of things here which I
should never have supposed possible.You ride out alone, and she drives
alone.You never go near each other's rooms, and when you are together,
you have not half-a-dozen words to say to one another.The younger man had risen now, and was standing opposite his father,
but he had not thrown off his sleepy look."You seem to have mastered the details thoroughly, sir," said he."You
could hardly have learnt them all in the half-hour we spent together
yesterday evening.Berkow's anger was breaking forth, but the habit of
indulgence towards his son made him overlook this great offence."It appears you are not accustomed up here to the fashionable way of
doing things," continued Arthur, quite undisturbed."Now, in regard to
this, we are eminently aristocratic.You know, sir, you are so fond of
all that is aristocratic!""Is it your pleasure,
too, that your wife should allow herself to ignore you in a way which
is already the talk of the whole place?""I leave her free, that is, to do as she likes, just as I intend to do
myself."Berkow started up from his seat
"This is really going too far!Arthur, you are"----
"Not like you, sir!""I, at least, should
never have forced a girl into giving her consent by threatening her
with her father's recognisances."The colour faded suddenly from Berkow's face, and he stepped back
involuntarily, asking in an unsteady voice,
"What--what do you mean?"Arthur drew himself up erect, and some animation came into his eyes as
he fixed them on his father.Mary travelled to the kitchen."Baron Windeg was ruined, that every one knew."His extravagance, his
love of playing the grand seigneur when he was head over ears in debt,
was cause enough.So you had no ulterior object in view when you gave him your
help?The Baron was never offered the alternative of surrendering his
daughter, or of preparing to meet the worst?Berkow laughed, but his laughter was forced.Who has been telling you anything to the contrary?"Mary moved to the bedroom.But, in
spite of his tone of assurance, his look fell.This man had probably
never yet lowered his eyes when reproached with an unscrupulous act,
but he could not meet his son's gaze on this occasion.A bitter
expression passed over the young man's face; if he had had any doubt
hitherto, he knew enough now.After the pause of a second, he renewed the conversation."You know that I never had any inclination for marrying, that I only
yielded to your incessant persuasion.Eugenie Windeg was as indifferent
to me as any other woman.I did not even know her, but she was not the
first who had been willing to give up her old name in exchange for
wealth.Mary went to the hallway.At least, that was how I interpreted her consent, and that of
her father.You never thought fit to inform me of that which preceded
and followed my proposal.I had to hear of the barter that had been
made of us both from Eugenie's mouth.The thing is
done, and cannot be undone; but you can understand now that I shall
avoid exposing myself to fresh humiliations.I have no wish to stand a
second time before my wife, as I had to do the other evening, while she
poured out all her contempt for me and my father, and I--I could but
listen in silence."Berkow had been dumb so far, and had half turned away, but at these
last words he looked round at his son quickly with some astonishment.Sandra went back to the bathroom."I should not have believed that anything could irritate you so much,"
said he slowly.You are mistaken, we did not reach the pitch of
irritation.My lady-wife deigned from the first to mount on the high
pedestal of her exalted virtues and of her noble descent, and I, who,
in both respects, am equally unworthy, preferred to admire her only
from a distance.I should seriously advise you to do the same, that is,
if ever you attain to the happiness of her society."He threw himself down on the sofa again with an air of contemptuous
indifference, but even in his sneer there was a touch of that
irritation his father had noticed.Berkow shook his head, but the
subject was too embarrassing, and the role he played towards his son in
this business too painful for him not to seize the first opportunity of
putting an end to the discussion."We will talk it over again at a fitting time," said he, taking out his
watch hastily."Let us have done for to-day.There are yet two good
hours before the people arrive; I am going over to the upper works."No," said Arthur, relapsing into indolence.John went to the bedroom.Berkow made no attempt to use his authority.Perhaps, after such an
interview, the refusal was not disagreeable to him.He went away,
leaving the young man alone once more, and, with the renewed stillness,
all the latter's apathy seemed to return to him.While the first bright spring day smiled on the world without, while
the woods lay bathed in sunshine, and the sweet scent of the pines rose
up from the hills, Arthur Berkow lay within in the darkened room, where
the curtains were so carefully lowered, the _portieres_ so closely
drawn, as though he alone were not created to enjoy the free mountain
air and the bright light of day.The air was too keen for him, the sun
too dazzling.It blinded him to look out, and he said to himself that
his nervous system was shaken beyond all description.The young heir,
who had at his disposal all that life and this world can give, thought,
as he had often thought before, that after all both the world and life
are horribly empty, and that it is assuredly not worth while to have
been born at all.The state dinner, prepared with lavish expense and on a most luxurious
scale, was over at last.Daniel travelled to the garden.It had procured for Berkow one special
triumph, independently of the pleasure he must have felt at seeing how
numerous were the guests around him.The nobility of the neighbouring
town, and its leading personages in particular, had always been
exclusive to the last degree.No member of it had condescended as yet
to enter the house of a parvenu, whose equivocal antecedents still shut
him out from the highest circles of society; but the invitations
bearing the name of Eugenie Berkow, _nee_ Baroness Windeg, had been
universally accepted.She was, and would ever remain, a scion of one of
the most ancient and noble houses of the land.No one could or would wound her by a refusal, more especially as it had
not remained a secret how she had been forced into this union.But,
if the bride were to be met with fullest esteem and sympathy, her
father-in-law, in whose house the dinner was given, could not possibly
be treated otherwise than with politeness, and so this too came to
pass.Berkow was jubilant; he knew well that this was only the prelude to
what must happen in the capital next winter.The Baroness Windeg would
certainly not be allowed to fall out of her sphere because she had
sacrificed herself to filial love.She would now, as hitherto, be
looked on as an equal in spite of the plebeian name she bore.And
touching this name, too, the object for which he had so long striven
lay now, as he hoped, almost within his grasp.But if, on the one hand, the ambitious millionaire felt that he owed
his daughter-in-law some thanks, notwithstanding that she had on this
day more than ever assumed the airs of a princess, and had held herself
completely aloof from him and his, the behaviour of his son, on the
other hand, surprised as much as it angered him.Arthur, who had been
in the habit of associating exclusively with people of rank, seemed all
at once to have lost all taste for such company.He was so extremely
cool in his politeness towards his distinguished guests, he even
maintained so studied a reserve towards the officers of the garrison,
with whom, on previous visits, he had always been on a familiar
footing, that he more than once approached those bounds which a host
cannot overstep without giving offence.Berkow could not understand
this new whim.Did he want to show his
opposition to his wife by thus obviously avoiding her guests?Daniel went to the hallway.Those gentlemen from the town, who had ladies under their escort,
started early on their return-journey, for the long rains had made the
roads almost impracticable, and a drive of several hours in the
darkness was not a thing to be desired.This gave the mistress of the
house liberty to withdraw, and Eugenie at once availed herself of it,
leaving the reception-rooms and retiring to her own private apartments,
while her husband and his father stayed with the remaining visitors.At the appointed hour, Ulric Hartmann made his appearance.Since his
early childhood, since Frau Berkow's death, when his parents' relations
with the great house had altogether ceased, he had not been within its
walls.Indeed, the master's chateau, with its surrounding terraces and
gardens, was to the whole working-population a closed Eldorado, into
which even the officials only gained occasional access when called
thither by some weighty matter of business, or by a special invitation.The young man walked through the lofty hall, lined on each side by
flowering plants, up the carpeted stairs, and through the well-lighted
corridors, until in one of the latter, he was received by the servant
who had brought him the message in the morning.The man showed him into
a room, saying:
"Her ladyship will be here directly," and, with this observation, shut
the door and left him alone.Ulric looked round the large handsomely decorated ante-room, the first
of a long suite of apartments, all of which were now completely empty.The guests were still assembled in the distant dining-room which looked
out on the garden, but the emptiness and stillness of this part of the
house made its splendour yet more impressive.Sandra went to the office.The _portieres_ were all
drawn back, and Ulric could see through the long suite of handsome
rooms, each one of which seemed to surpass the others in beauty.The thick, dark- velvet of the carpets drank in the light, so
to speak; but it shone all the brighter on the richly gilt decorations
of the walls and doors, on the silk and satin furniture, in the tall
mirrors which reached to the ceiling and cast forth the reflection of
it in a thousand brilliant rays, yes, even on the waxed floors bright
and smooth as glass; it set off to fuller advantage those pictures,
statues and priceless vases with which the salons were so profusely
ornamented.All that wealth and luxury can give was here brought
together, and the effect was one which might well dazzle an eye
accustomed to obscurity, and most at home in the dark mazes of the
mine.But the sight, though it would certainly have been confusing to any of
his comrades, appeared to make no impression on Ulric.His look glanced
darkly through the sparkling vista, but there was no admiration to be
traced in it.Each costly thing which drew his attention seemed to
rouse up within him a feeling of enmity, and he suddenly turned his
back on the glittering perspective, and gave a little vehement stamp
with his foot on finding that there were no signs of any one as yet.Ulric Hartmann, clearly, was not the man to wait patiently in an
anteroom until such time as he could be conveniently received.At last something rustled behind him; he turned round and took a step
back involuntarily, for a few paces from him, just under the great
chandelier, stood Eugenie Berkow.Up to this time he had seen her but
once, on the day he had carried her from the carriage, and she then
wore a travelling-dress of dark silk, whilst her face was shaded by her
hat and veil.Sandra journeyed to the bedroom.Of that meeting he had preserved only one remembrance,
that of the great dark eyes which had scanned his countenance so
closely.this was an apparition very different from any
that had hitherto come within the young miner's sphere of vision.Over
the white silk dress flowed a delicate white lace, which waved like a
cloudlet round her tall and slender figure.Into these airy folds some
roses seemed to have been wafted, and a wreath of roses encircled her
blonde head, the shining tresses of which rivalled in their soft
brilliancy the pearls about her neck and arms.The blaze of the
wax-lights fell full on this lovely picture so fitly framed by its
surroundings.As she stood there, it seemed as though nothing ought to
approach her which had anything in common with the ordinary life of
this work-a-day world.John travelled to the bathroom.But although Eugenie's whole appearance might betoken the high-born
lady of fashion, that being the role which she had this evening
exclusively played--her eyes showed plainly that she could be something
else too.They lighted up now with a glad expression, as she caught
sight of the young man, and she went up to him with quiet friendliness."I am pleased that you came when I sent for you.I wanted to speak to
you to clear up a misunderstanding.She opened one of the side doors, and entered the adjoining room,
followed by Ulric.It was her own boudoir, and separated her apartments
beyond from the suite before mentioned--but what a contrast it was to
the latter!Here only a mellowed light streamed from the lamp over the
tender blue draperies and hangings.The foot, bold enough there to
tread, sank silently into the yielding carpet, and the caressing air
was warm and balmy with the scent of flowers.Ulric stood on the threshold as if spell-bound, though he was in
general but little used to fits of shyness.Here all was so different
to the dazzling rooms he had left, so much more beautiful, so dreamily
still.The wrath with which he had looked on all that splendour had
gone out from him; in its place there stirred a something which he
could not define, a something born of the gentler influences now so
strangely surrounding him.But in the next minute a hot anger at this
weakness burned up within him, |
garden | Where is John? | Eugenie stopped, noticing with some surprise that the miner was not
following her.She took a seat near the door, and her eyes scrutinised
his face narrowly.The curly light hair entirely covered the still
fresh scar, and the wound, which might well have proved dangerous to
another man, had had but little effect on this powerful frame.Eugenie
sought for some trace of past suffering, but found none.Her first
question related, however, to his injury.Does the wound really give you no pain
now?""No, my lady, it was not worth speaking about."Eugenie did not appear to remark the short ungracious tone of the
answer."I heard, certainly, from the Director's mouth on the very next day
that there was nothing to be apprehended, or we should have had you
more thoroughly cared for.After his second visit to you, the Director
assured me again that there was no question of any danger, and Herr
Wilberg, whom I sent to your house on the day after the accident,
brought me the same report."At the first words of her little speech Ulric had raised his eyes and
fixed them on her face.His moody brow cleared slowly, and his voice
had a gentler sound as he answered,
"I did not know, my lady, that you had troubled yourself so much about
it.Herr Wilberg did not tell me he came from you, or"----
"Or you would have been rather more friendly to him," concluded
Eugenie, a little reproachfully."He complained of the brusque way in
which you treated him that evening, yet he was so full of sympathy for
you, and offered with such cheerful alacrity to procure me the news I
wished for.John journeyed to the kitchen.What do you object to in Herr Wilberg?""Nothing--but he plays on the guitar and writes poetry.""That does not seem to be any special advantage in your eyes," said
she, half-jesting; "and I hardly think you would be guilty of it, if
you were to change places with him.It was for
something else I sent for you.I hear," she played in rather an
embarrassed way with her fan, "I hear from the Director that you have
declined a mark of our gratitude, which he was commissioned to offer
you from us.""Yes," Ulric assented briefly, without adding one word to soften the
harsh monosyllable."I am sorry if the offer, or the way in which it was made, has offended
you.Herr Berkow,"--a faint flush overspread Eugenie's face as she
uttered the untruth--"Herr Berkow certainly intended personally to
express to you his thanks and mine.He was prevented from doing so, and
therefore begged the Director to represent him.It would grieve me much
if you were to see in that any proof of ingratitude or indifference on
our part towards our deliverer.We both know how deeply we are in your
debt, and you would hardly now refuse me too, if I were to beg you to
receive from my hands"----
Ulric started up; the happy influence of her first words had been quite
destroyed by the close of her speech.His face had grown pale, when he
guessed what was her object, and he broke out recklessly,
"Let that matter be, my lady.If you offer me money, you too, I shall
wish I had let the carriage go over with all that was in it!"Eugenie was a little startled by this outbreak of that savage wildness
for which Ulric Hartmann was feared by every one about the works.Such
a look and such a tone had certainly never been addressed to Baron
Windegs daughter; it was indeed the first time she had been brought in
contact with one belonging to the working classes."I do not wish to impose my thanks upon you.If the expression of them
displeases you so much, I regret that I should have called you hither."She turned away and was about to leave the room, but the movement
brought Ulric to his senses."My lady--I--forgive me!I would not vex _you_ for the world!"John journeyed to the garden.Eugenie was struck by the passionate, remorseful tone.She stopped and
looked at him, seeking in his face for the key to his strange conduct;
but his vehement cry for pardon had disarmed her.she repeated, "but you do not mind how much
you hurt other people's feelings by your ungracious ways?The
Director's, for instance, and Herr Wilberg's?""No, I do not," returned Ulric, "no more than they would mind hurting
mine, if the case were reversed.There is no talk of friendliness
between the officials and us.""I did not know that the officials and
the hands were on such bad terms, and Herr Berkow cannot suspect it
either, or he would assuredly have tried to mediate.""Herr Berkow," said Ulric, sharply, "has cared during the last twenty
years for every possible thing on the works, except for the welfare of
the hands employed, and so it will go on, until we begin caring a
little about him, and then--oh, my lady!I was forgetting that you are
his son's wife.She was silent, a little confounded by his reckless plain-speaking.What she now heard was, in truth, only what had often before been
hinted in her presence about her father-in-law, but the terrible
bitterness of these words made her feel all the depth of the gulf which
lay between him and his subordinates.Whoever brought an accusation
against Berkow was sure beforehand of having his daughter-in-law's
sympathy.Eugenie had herself had bitter proof of his unscrupulousness,
but she was sensible that, as his son's wife, she ought not to make
this evident.If she noticed Hartmann's last speech at all, it must be
to reprove him, and she preferred to let it pass."So you will not accept any mark of our gratitude, not even from my
hands?"she began again, waiving the dangerous subject."Well, then, I
can do nothing but tender my thanks to the man who saved me from
certain death.It lay only a few seconds, white and
delicate as a flower, in the miner's strong work-hardened palm, but its
touch sent a quiver through him.All the bitterness went out of his
face, the threatening look from his eyes; the defiant head was bent
over her outstretched hand, and his features bore an expression of
gentleness and submissiveness, which none of his superiors could ever
boast of having seen on Ulric Hartmann's countenance."Oh, you are giving audience here, Eugenie, and to one of our people!"Berkow's voice sounded behind them, as he opened the door at this
moment, and came in, accompanied by his son.Eugenie drew back her hand
and Ulric stood up erect.As those tones met his ear, he resumed his
characteristic attitude of silent hostility, which became even more
marked, as Arthur exclaimed, with a sharpness, oddly contrasting with
his habitual languid manner,
"Hartmann, how do you come here?"repeated Berkow, attracted by the name, and going up
nearer."Oh, here we have our friend the agitator, who"----
"Who stopped our horses when they were running away in their mad
fright, and who was injured himself in saving our lives!"put in
Eugenie, quietly, but very decidedly.said Berkow, disconcerted by this reminder, and by his
daughter-in-law's resolute look."Yes, indeed, I heard of it, and the
Director was telling me that you and Arthur had already given a proof
of your sense of the obligation.The young man has come, no doubt, to
express his thanks.The cloud rolled back on Ulric's brow blacker and more menacing than
ever, and the reply, which hovered on his lips, would probably have
brought down on him the most serious consequences.Eugenie stepped up
to her protege and touched him lightly on the arm with her fan.The
miner understood the warning; he looked at her, saw the unconcealed
anxiety in her eyes, and his hatred and defiance gave way once more.He
answered quietly, almost coldly:
"Certainly, Herr Berkow, I am satisfied with her ladyship's thanks.""I am glad of it," said Berkow, shortly.She saw but too plainly what
constraint the man had to put on himself in order to remain quiet.With
one slight movement of the head directed to the master and his son, a
salutation evidently bestowed with much reluctance, he left the room."Well, I must confess that your protege has not very good manners,"
remarked Berkow, with a sneer."He takes leave in rather an off-hand
way, and does not wait to be dismissed.But there, how can such people
learn the proper way to behave!Arthur, you seem to find something
remarkably interesting in this Hartmann.I hope you have looked after
him long enough?"Arthur's eyes had indeed followed the miner with an intent gaze, and
they were still fixed on the door he had closed behind him.The young
man's eyebrows were drawn together slightly, and his lips firmly set.At his father's remark, he turned round.The latter went up to his daughter-in-law, with a great show of
politeness."I regret, Eugenie, that your complete ignorance of the state of things
here should have led you to an act of excessive condescension.You,
naturally, could have no idea of the part that fellow plays among his
comrades, but he should, on no account, have been permitted to come to
this house, much less to enter your boudoir, even under the pretext of
returning thanks for a present."The lady had seated herself, but there was a look on her face which
made it seem advisable to her father-in-law to remain standing, instead
of taking a place at her side as he at first intended.She compelled
him too "to admire her only from a distance.""I see they have only told you half the story," she answered, coolly."May I ask when you last spoke to the Director?""This morning, when I learned from him that he had been commissioned to
hand over to Hartmann a sum, which I, by the way, consider much too
large.But I do not wish to lay
any restrictions on you and Arthur, if you think it right to show your
gratitude in this exaggerated way.""So you do not know that the young man has refused the money
altogether?""Probably because it offended him to be put off with a sum of money
offered through a third person, while those whom he had saved did not
think it worth their while to add even a word of thanks.I have made
good this latter negligence, but I could not persuade him to accept the
smallest thing.It does not seem as though the Director had managed the
matter so 'admirably.'"He knew these words were meant for him, though they
were spoken to his father."It appears, then, you sent for him yourself?""I wish you had left it undone," said Berkow, somewhat irritated."This
Hartmann is pointed out to me on all sides as the chief promoter of
that revolutionary spirit which I am about to meet with the utmost
severity.I see now that too much has not been said about him.If this
fellow dares to refuse such a sum, because it has not been paid to him
with all the ceremony his mightiness demands, he may well be capable of
anything.I must remind you, Eugenie, that there are certain
considerations my daughter-in-law must keep in mind even when she is
giving a proof of her kind feeling."The old contemptuous look played about Eugenie's lips.Remembering the
compulsion to which she had been subjected, she felt but little
disposed to yield to her father-in-law's wishes, and the bitter thought
of it rising within her made her overlook the real justice of what he
said."I am sorry, Herr Berkow," she answered, icily, "that other
considerations must have weight with me besides any your
daughter-in-law may be bound to regard.This was an exceptional case,
and you must allow me to act on my own judgment in such matters both
now and for the future."between the state and the pope as
head of the Church.The concordats are of the nature of truces in the
perennial conflict between the spiritual and secular powers, and imply in
principle no surrender of the claims of the one to those of the other.Where the Roman Catholic Church is not recognized as a state religion, as
in the United States or in the British Islands, she is in the position of
a "free Church," her jurisdiction is only _in foro conscientiae_, and her
ecclesiastical laws have no validity from the point of view of the state.On the other hand, the root principle of the ecclesiastical law of the
established Protestant Churches is the rejection of alien jurisdiction
and the assertion of the supremacy of the state.The sovereign may be regarded, as in the case of the
Russian emperor or of the English kings from the Reformation to the
Revolution, as the vicar of God in all causes spiritual as well as
temporal within his realm.As the first fervent belief in the divine
right of kings faded, however, a new basis had to be discovered for a
relation between the spiritual and temporal powers against which Rome had
never ceased to protest.This was found in the so-called "collegial"
theory of Church government (_Kollegialsystem_), which assumed a sort of
tacit concordat between the state and the religious community, by which
the latter vests in the former the right to exercise a certain part of
the _jus in sacra_ properly inherent in the Church (see PUFENDORF,
SAMUEL).This had great and lasting effects on the development of the
theory of Protestant ecclesiastical law on the continent of Europe.In
England, on the other hand, owing to the peculiar character of the
Reformation there and of the Church that was its outcome, no theory of
the ecclesiastical law is conceivable that would be satisfactory at once
to lawyers and to all schools of opinion within the Church.This has been
abundantly proved by the attitude of increasing opposition assumed by the
clergy, under the influence of the Tractarian movement, towards the civil
power in matters ecclesiastical, an attitude impossible to justify on any
accepted theory of the Establishment (see below).Protestant ecclesiastical law, then, is distinguished from that of the
Roman Catholic Church (1) by being more limited in its scope, (2) by
having for its authoritative source, not the Church only or even mainly,
but the Church in more or less complete union with or subordination to
the State, the latter being considered, equally with the Church, as an
organ of the will of God.The ecclesiastical law of the Church of Rome,
on the other hand, whatever its origin, is now valid only in so far as
it has the sanction of the authority of the Holy See.And here it must
be noted that the "canon law" is not identical with the "ecclesiastical
law" of the Roman Catholic Church.By the canon law is meant,
substantially, the contents of the _Corpus juris canonici_, which have
been largely superseded or added to by, e.g.the canons of the council
of Trent and the Vatican decrees.The long projected codification of the
whole of the ecclesiastical law of the Church of Rome, a work of
gigantic labour, was not taken in hand until the pontificate of Pius X.(See also CANON LAW and ECCLESIASTICAL JURISDICTION.)The ecclesiastical law of England is in complete dependence upon the
authority of the state.The Church of England cannot be said, from a
legal point of view, to have a corporate existence or even a
representative assembly.The Convocation of York and the Convocation of
Canterbury are provincial assemblies possessing no legislative or
judicial authority; even such purely ecclesiastical questions as may be
formally commended to their attention by "letters of business" from the
crown can only be finally settled by act of parliament.The
ecclesiastical courts are for the most part officered by laymen, whose
subordination to the archbishops and bishops is purely formal, and the
final court of appeal is the Judicial Committee of the Privy Council.In
like manner changes in the ecclesiastical law are made directly by
parliament in the ordinary course of legislation, and in point of fact a
very large portion of the existing ecclesiastical law consists of acts
of parliament.The sources of the ecc |
garden | Where is Mary? | Richard Burn (_The Ecclesiastical Law_, 9th ed., 1842):--"The
ecclesiastical law of England is compounded of these four main
ingredients--the civil law, the canon law, the common law, and the
statute law.And from these, digested in their proper rank and
subordination, to draw out one uniform law of the church is the purport
of this book.When these laws do interfere and cross each other, the
order of preference is this:--'The civil law submitteth to the canon
law; both of these to the common law; and all three to the statute law.So that from any one or more of these, without all of them together, or
from all of them together without attending to their comparative
obligation, it is not possible to exhibit any distinct prospect of the
English ecclesiastical constitution.'Under the head of statute law Burn
includes 'the Thirty-nine Articles of Religion, agreed upon in
Convocation in the year 1562; and in like manner the Rubric of the Book
of Common Prayer, which, being both of them established by Acts of
Parliament, are to be esteemed as part of the statute law.'"The first principle of the ecclesiastical law in England is the
assertion of the supremacy of the crown, which in the present state of
the constitution means the same thing as the supremacy of parliament.This principle has been maintained ever since the Reformation.Before
the Reformation the ecclesiastical supremacy of the pope was recognized,
with certain limitations, in England, and the Church itself had some
pretensions to ecclesiastical freedom.The freedom of the Church is, in
fact, one of the standing provisions of those charters on which the
English constitution was based.The first provision of Magna Carta is
_quod ecclesia Anglicana libera sit_.By the various enactments of the
period of the Reformation the whole constitutional position of the
Church, not merely with reference to the pope but with reference to the
state, was definitely fixed.The legislative power of convocation was
held to extend to the clergy only, and even to that extent required the
sanction and assent of the crown.The common law courts controlled the
jurisdiction of the ecclesiastical courts, claiming to have "the
exposition of such statutes or acts of parliament as concern either the
extent of the jurisdiction of these courts or the matters depending
before them.And therefore if these courts either refuse to allow these
acts of parliament, or expound them in any other sense than is truly and
properly the exposition of them, the king's great courts of common law
may prohibit and control them."The design of constructing a code of ecclesiastical laws was entertained
during the period of the Reformation, but never carried into effect.It
is alluded to in various statutes of the reign of Henry VIII., who
obtained power to appoint a commission to examine the old ecclesiastical
laws, with a view of deciding which ought to be kept and which ought to
be abolished; and in the meantime it was enacted that "such canons,
institutions, ordinances, synodal or provincial or other ecclesiastical
laws or jurisdictions spiritual as be yet accustomed and used here in
the Church of England, which necessarily and conveniently are requisite
to be put in ure and execution for the time, not being repugnant,
contrarient, or derogatory to the laws or statutes of the realm, nor to
the prerogatives of the royal crown of the same, or any of them, shall
be occupied, exercised, and put in ure for the time with this realm" (35
Henry VIII.The work was actually undertaken and finished in the reign of Edward VI.by a sub-committee of eight persons, under the name of the _Reformatio
legum ecclesiasticarum_, which, however, never obtained the royal
assent.1 were revived by
the 1 Elizabeth c.1, the scheme was never executed, and the
ecclesiastical laws remained on the footing assigned to them in that
statute--so much of the old ecclesiastical laws might be used as had
been actually in use, and was not repugnant to the laws of the realm.John journeyed to the kitchen.The statement is, indeed, made by Sir R. Phillimore (_Ecclesiastical
Law_, 2nd ed., 1895) that the "Church of England has at all times,
before and since the Reformation, claimed the right of an independent
Church in an independent kingdom, to be governed by the laws which she
has deemed it expedient to adopt."This position can only be accepted if
it is confined, as the authorities cited for it are confined, to the
resistance of interference from abroad.If it mean that the Church, as
distinguished from the kingdom, has claimed to be governed by laws of
her own making, all that can be said is that the claim has been
singularly unsuccessful.From the time of the Reformation no change has
been made in the law of the Church which has not been made by the king
and parliament, sometimes indirectly, as by confirming the resolutions
of convocation, but for the most part by statute.The list of statutes
cited in Sir R. Phillimore's _Ecclesiastical Law_ fills eleven pages.It
is only by a kind of legal fiction akin to the "collegial" theory
mentioned above, that the Church can be said to have deemed it expedient
to adopt these laws.The terms on which the Church Establishment of Ireland was abolished, by
the Irish Council Act of 1869, may be mentioned.20 the present
ecclesiastical law was made binding on the members for the time being of
the Church, "as if they had mutually contracted and agreed to abide by
and observe the same"; and by section 21 it was enacted that the
ecclesiastical courts should cease after the 1st of January 1871, and
that the ecclesiastical laws of Ireland, except so far as relates to
matrimonial causes and matters, should cease to exist as law.(See also
ENGLAND, CHURCH OF; ESTABLISHMENT; &c.)AUTHORITIES.--The number of works on ecclesiastical law is very great,
and it must suffice here to mention a few of the more conspicuous
modern ones: Ferdinand Walter, _Lehrbuch des Kirchenrechts aller
christlichen Konfessionen_ (14th ed., Bonn, 1871); G. Phillips,
_Kirchenrecht_, Bde.(Regensburg, 1845-1872) incomplete; the
text-book by Cardinal Hergenroether (q.v.); P. Hinschius, _Kirchenrecht
der Katholiken und Protestanten in Deutschland_, 6 Bde.(Berlin, 1869
sqq.), only the Catholic part, a masterly and detailed survey of the
ecclesiastical law, finished; Sir Robert Phillimore, _Eccl.Law of the
Church of England_ (2nd ed., edited by Sir Walter Phillimore, 2 vols.,
London, 1895).For further references see CANON LAW, and the article
"Kirchenrecht" in Herzog-Hauck, _Realencyklopaedie_ (ed.ECCLESIASTICUS (abbreviated to _Ecclus._), the alternative title given
in the English Bible to the apocryphal book otherwise called "The Wisdom
of Jesus the son of Sirach."The Latin word _ecclesiasticus_ is,
properly speaking, not a name, but an epithet meaning "churchly," so
that it would serve as a designation of any book which was read in
church or received ecclesiastical sanction, but in practice
Ecclesiasticus has become a by-name for the Wisdom of Sirach.The true
name of the book appears in the authorities in a variety of forms, the
variation affecting both the author's name and the description of his
book.The writer's full name is given in 1.text) as "Simeon
the son of Jeshua (i.e.Jesus) the son of Eleazar the son of Sira."In
the Greek text this name appears as "Jesus son of Sirach Eleazar"
(probably a corruption of the Hebrew reading), and the epithet "of
Jerusalem" is added, the translator himself being resident in Egypt.The
whole name is shortened sometimes to "Son of Sira," _Ben Sira_ in
Hebrew, _Bar Sira_ in Aramaic, and sometimes (as in the title prefixed
in the Greek cod.The work is variously described as the
_Words_ (Heb.text), the _Book_ (Talmud), the _Proverbs_ (Jerome), or
the _Wisdom_ of the son of Sira (or Sirach).Of the date of the book we have only one certain indication.It was
translated by a person who says that he "came into Egypt in the 38th
year of Euergetes the king" (Ptolemy VII.in 132 B.C., and that
he executed the work some time later.The translator believed that the
writer of the original was his own grandfather (or ancestor, [Greek:
pappos]).It is therefore reasonable to suppose that the book was
composed not later than the first half of the 2nd century B.C., or (if
we give the looser meaning to [Greek: pappos]) even before the beginning
of the century.Arguments for a pre-Maccabean date may be derived (a)
from the fact that the book contains apparently no reference to the
Maccabean struggles, (b) from the eulogy of the priestly house of Zadok
which fell into disrepute during these wars for independence.In the Jewish Church Ecclesiasticus hovered on the border of the canon;
in the Christian Church it crossed and recrossed the border.The book
contains much which attracted and also much which repelled Jewish
feeling, and it appears that it was necessary to pronounce against its
canonicity.In the Talmud (Sanhedrin 100 b) Rabbi Joseph says that it is
forbidden to read (i.e.in the synagogue) the book of ben Sira, and
further that "if our masters had not hidden the book (i.e.declared it
uncanonical), we might interpret the good things which are in it"
(Schechter, _J.In the Christian Church it
was largely used by Clement of Alexandria (c. A.D.The lists of the Hebrew canon, however, given by Melito (c.
A.D.John journeyed to the garden.180) and by Origen (c. A.D.230) rightly exclude Ecclesiasticus,
and Jerome (c. A.D.390-400) writes: "Let the Church read these two
volumes (Wisdom of Solomon and Ecclesiasticus) for the instruction of
the people, not for establishing the authority of the dogmas of the
Church" (_Praefatio in libros Salomonis_).of the
Septuagint, cod.B, Ecclesiasticus comes between Wisdom and Esther, no
distinction being drawn between canonical and uncanonical.In the
Vulgate it immediately precedes Isaiah.The council of Trent declared
this book and the rest of the books reckoned in the Thirty-nine Articles
as apocryphal to be canonical.The text of the book raises intricate problems which are still far from
solution.The original Hebrew (rediscovered in fragments and published
between 1896 and 1900) has come down to us in a mutilated and corrupt
form.There are marginal readings which show that two different
recensions existed once in Hebrew.The Greek version exists in two
forms--(a) that preserved in cod.B and in the other uncial MSS., (b)
that preserved in the cursive codex 248 (Holmes and Parsons).The former
has a somewhat briefer text, the latter agrees more closely with the
Hebrew text.The majority of Greek cursives agree generally with the
Latin Vulgate, and offer the fuller text in a corrupt form.The Syriac
(Peshitta) version is paraphrastic, but on the whole it follows the
Hebrew text.Owing to the mutilation of the Hebrew by the accidents of
time the Greek version retains its place as the chief authority for the
text, and references by chapter and verse are usually made to it.Margoliouth have supposed that the Hebrew text
preserved in the fragments is not original, but a retranslation from the
Greek or the Syriac or both.This view has not commended itself to the
majority of scholars, but there is at least a residuum of truth in it.The Hebrew text, as we have it, has a history of progressive corruption
behind it, and its readings can often be emended from the Septuagint,
e.g.11 (read [Hebrew: umira] for the meaningless [Hebrew:
umerer]).The Hebrew marginal readings occasionally seem to be
translations from the Greek or Syriac, e.g.4 ([Hebrew: bara
shamaym] for [Greek: ektisen pharmaka]).More frequently, however,
strange readings of the Greek and Syriac are to be explained as
corruptions of our present Hebrew.Substantially our Hebrew must be
pronounced original.The restoration of a satisfactory text is beyond our hopes.Even before
the Christian era the book existed in two recensions, for we cannot
doubt, after reading the Greek translator's preface, that the translator
amplified and paraphrased the text before him.It is probable that at
least one considerable omission must be laid to his charge, for the hymn
preserved in the Hebrew text after ch.Ancient translators allowed themselves much liberty in their
work, and Ecclesiasticus possessed no reputation for canonicity in the
2nd century B.C.Much, however,
may be done towards improving two of the recensions which now lie before
us.The incomplete Hebrew text exists in four different MSS., and the
study of the peculiarities of these had already proved fruitful.The
Syriac text, made without doubt from the Hebrew, though often
paraphrastic is often suggestive.The Greek translation, made within a
century or half-century of the writing of the book, must possess great
value for the criticism of the Hebrew text.The work of restoring true
Hebrew readings may proceed with more confidence now that we have
considerable portions of the Hebrew text to serve as a model.For the
restoration of the Greek text we have, besides many Greek MSS., uncial
and cursive, the old Latin, the Syro-Hexaplar, the Armenian, Sahidic and
Ethiopic versions, as well as a considerable number of quotations in the
Greek and Latin Fathers.Each of the two recensions of the Greek must,
however, be separately studied, before any restoration of the original
Greek text can be attempted.Mary went back to the bathroom.The uncertainty of the text has affected both English versions
unfavourably.The Authorized Version, following the corrupt cursives, is
often wrong.Mary moved to the garden.The Revised Version, on the other hand, in following the
uncial MSS.sometimes departs from the Hebrew, while the Authorized
Version with the cursives agrees with it.Thus the Revised Version (with
codd.[Hebrew: alef]*, A, B, C) omits the whole of iii.19, which the
Authorized Version retains, but for the clause, "Mysteries are revealed
unto the meek," the Authorized Version has the support of the Hebrew,
Syriac and cod.Sometimes both versions go astray in places in
which the Hebrew text recommends itself as original by its vigour; e.g.26, where the Hebrew is,
Hast thou a wife?the Hebrew text in at least two interesting
passages shows its superiority over the text which underlies both
English versions._Hebrew._ _Revised Version (similarly
Authorized Version)._
ver.Acquaint thyself with a Honour a physician according
physician before thou have to thy need of him with the
need of him.He that sinneth against his He that sinneth before his
Maker will behave himself Maker, let him fall into the
proudly against a physician.In the second instance, while the Hebrew says that the man who rebels
against his Heavenly Benefactor will _a fortiori_ rebel against a human
benefactor, the Greek text gives a cynical turn |
garden | Where is Mary? | The Hebrew text is probably superior also in
xliv.1, the opening words of the eulogy of the Fathers: "Let me now
praise favoured men," i.e.The Hebrew
phrase is "men of grace," as in v.1, "famous
men," seems to be nothing but a loose paraphrase, suggested by v.2,
"The Lord manifested in them great glory."In character and contents Ecclesiasticus resembles the book of Proverbs.It consists mainly of maxims which may be described in turn as moral,
utilitarian and secular.Occasionally the author attacks prevalent
religious opinions, e.g.the denial of free-will (xv.11-20), or the
assertion of God's indifference towards men's actions (xxxv.John journeyed to the kitchen.Occasionally, again, Ben Sira touches the highest themes, and speaks of
the nature of God: "He is All" (xliii.27); "He is One from everlasting"
(xlii.text); "The mercy of the Lord is upon all flesh" (xviii.Though the book is imitative and secondary in character it contains
several passages of force and beauty, e.g.(how to fear the
Lord); xv.11-20 (on free-will); xxiv.1-22 (the song of wisdom); xlii.15-25 (praise of the works of the Lord); xliv.1-15 (the well-known
praise of famous men).Many detached sayings scattered throughout the
book show a depth of insight, or a practical shrewdness, or again a
power of concise speech, which stamps them on the memory.A few examples
out of many may be cited."Call no man blessed before his death" (xi.28); "He that toucheth pitch shall be defiled" (xiii.1); "He hath not
given any man licence to sin" (xv.20); "Man cherisheth anger against
man; and doth he seek healing from the Lord?"3); "Mercy is
seasonable... as clouds of rain" (xxxv.20); "All things are double one
against another: and he hath made nothing imperfect" (xlii.24, the
motto of Butler's _Analogy_); "Work your work before the time cometh,
and in his time he will give you your reward" (li.In spite,
however, of the words just quoted it cannot be said that Ben Sira
preaches a hopeful religion.Though he prays, "Renew thy signs, and
repeat thy wonders... Fill Sion with thy majesty and thy Temple with
thy glory" (xxxvi.text), he does not look for a
Messiah.Of the resurrection of the dead or of the immortality of the
soul there is no word, not even in xli.1-4, where the author exhorts
men not to fear death.10, 11) he asks,
"Who shall give praise to the Most High in the grave?"In his maxims of
life he shows a somewhat frigid and narrow mind.He is a pessimist as
regards women; "From a woman was the beginning of sin; and because of
her we all die" (xxv.He does not believe in home-spun wisdom; "How
shall he become wise that holdeth the plough?"Artificers
are not expected to pray like the wise man; "In the handywork of their
craft is their prayer" (v.Merchants are expected to cheat; "Sin
will thrust itself in between buying and selling" (xxvii.BIBLIOGRAPHY.--The literature of Ecclesiaticus has grown very
considerably since the discovery of the first Hebrew fragment in 1896.A useful summary of it is found at the end of Israel Levi's article,
"Sirach," in the _Jewish Encyclopedia_.John journeyed to the garden.Eberhard Nestle's article in
Hastings's _Dictionary of the Bible_ is important for its
bibliographical information as well as in other respects.A complete
edition of the Hebrew fragments in collotype facsimile was published
jointly by the Oxford and Cambridge Presses in 1901.248 throws much light on some of the problems of this
book.It contains a fresh collation of all the chief authorities
(Heb., Syr., Syr.-Hex., Lat.for the text, together with a
complete textual commentary.The account given in the _Synopsis_ attributed to Athanasius (Migne,
_P.G._, iv.375-384) has an interest of its own.The beginning is
given in the Authorized Version as "A prologue made by an uncertain
author."ECGBERT, or ECGBERHT (d.839), king of the West Saxons, succeeded to the
throne in 802 on the death of Beorhtric.It is said that at an earlier
period in his life he had been driven out for three years by Offa and
Beorhtric.The accession of Ecgbert seems to have brought about an
invasion by AEthelmund, earl of the Hwicce, who was defeated by Weoxtan,
earl of Wiltshire.In 815 Ecgbert ravaged the whole of the territories
of the West Welsh, which probably at this time did not include much more
than Cornwall.Mary went back to the bathroom.The next important occurrence in the reign was the defeat
of Beornwulf of Mercia at a place called Ellandun in 825.After this
victory Kent, Surrey, Sussex and Essex submitted to Wessex; while the
East Anglians, who slew Beornwulf shortly afterwards, acknowledged
Ecgbert as overlord.In 829 the king conquered Mercia, and Northumbria
accepted him as overlord.In 830 he led a successful expedition against
the Welsh.In 836 he was defeated by the Danes, but in 838 he won a
battle against them and their allies the West Welsh at Hingston Down in
Cornwall.Ecgbert died in 839, after a reign of thirty-seven years, and
was succeeded by his son AEthelwulf.A somewhat difficult question has
arisen as to the parentage of Ecgbert.Under the year 825 the Chronicle
states that in his eastern conquests Ecgbert recovered what had been
the rightful property of his kin.The father of Ecgbert was called
Ealhmund, and we find an Ealhmund, king in Kent, mentioned in a charter
dated 784, who is identified with Ecgbert's father in a late addition to
the Chronicle under the date 784.It is possible, however, that the
Chronicle in 825 refers to some claim through Ine of Wessex from whose
brother Ingeld Ecgbert was descended.See _Anglo-Saxon Chronicle_, edited by Earle and Plummer (Oxford,
1899); W. de G. Birch, _Cartularium Saxonicum_ (London, 1885-1893).Howorth in _Numismatic Chronicle_, third
series, vol.66-87 (reprinted separately, London, 1900), where
attention is called to the peculiar dating of several of Ecgbert's
charters, and the view is put forward that he remained abroad
considerably later than the date given by the Chronicle for his
accession.On the other hand a charter in Birch, _Cart.Sax._,
purporting to date from 799, contains the curious statement that peace
was made between Coenwulf and Ecgbert in that year.ECGBERT, or ECGBERHT (d.766), archbishop of York, was made bishop of
that see in 734 by Ceolwulf, king of Northumbria, succeeding Wilfrid II.The pall was sent him in 735 and he became
the first northern archbishop after Paulinus.He was the brother of
Eadberht, who ruled Northumbria 737-758.He was the recipient of the
famous letter of Bede, dealing with the evils arising from spurious
monasteries.Ecgberht himself wrote a _Dialogus Ecclesiasticae
Institutionis_, a _Penitentiale_ and a _Pontificale_.He was a
correspondent of St Boniface, who asks him to support his censure of
AEthelbald of Mercia.See Bede, _Continuatio_, sub.732, 735, 766, and _Epistola ad
Ecgberctum_ (Plummer, Oxford, 1896); _Chronicle_, sub ann.734, 735,
738, 766 (Earle and Plummer, Oxford, 1899); Haddan and Stubbs,
_Councils and Ecclesiastical Documents_ (Oxford, 1869-1878), iii.403-431; _Proceedings of Surtees Society_ (Durham, 1853).685), king of Northumbria, succeeded his father Oswio in
671.He was married to AEthelthryth, daughter of Anna of East Anglia,
who, however, took the veil shortly after Ecgfrith's accession, a step
which possibly led to his long quarrel with Wilfrid archbishop of York.Mary moved to the garden.Daniel travelled to the bedroom.Ecgfrith married a second wife, Eormenburg, before 678, the year in
which he expelled Wilfrid from his kingdom.Early in his reign he
defeated the Picts who had risen in revolt.Between 671 and 675 Ecgfrith
defeated Wulfhere of Mercia and seized Lindsey.In 679, however, he was
defeated by AEthelred of Mercia, who had married his sister Osthryth, on
the river Trent.Ecgfrith's brother AElfwine was killed in the battle,
and the province of Lindsey was given up when peace was restored at the
intervention of Theodore of Canterbury.John moved to the kitchen.In 684 Ecgfrith sent an
expedition to Ireland under his general Berht, which seems to have been
unsuccessful.In 685, against the advice of Cuthbert, he led a force
against the Picts under his cousin Burde, son of Bile, was lured by a
feigned flight into their mountain fastnesses, and slain at
Nechtanesmere (now Dunnichen) in Forfarshire.Bede dates the beginning
of the decline of Northumbria from his death.He was succeeded by his
brother Aldfrith.See Eddius, _Vita Wilfridi_ (Raine, _Historians of Church of York_,
Rolls, Series, London, 1879-1894), 19, 20, 24, 34, 39, 44; Bede,
_Hist.Eccl._ (Plummer, Oxford, 1896), iii.5, 12, 13, 18, 19,
21, 26.ECGONINE, in chemistry, C9H15NO3, a cycloheptane derivative with a
nitrogen bridge.It is obtained by hydrolysing cocaine with acids or
alkalis, and crystallizes with one molecule of water, the crystals
melting at 198 deg.C. It is laevo-rotatory, and on warming with
alkalis gives iso-ecgonine, which is dextro-rotatory.It is a tertiary
base, and has also the properties of an acid and an alcohol.When boiled
with caustic baryta it gives methylamine.It is the carboxylic acid
corresponding to tropine, for it yields the same products on oxidation,
and by treatment with phosphorus pentachloride is converted into
anhydroecgonine, C9H13NO2, which, when heated to 280 deg.C. with
hydrochloric acid, splits out carbon dioxide and yields tropidine,
C8H13N.Anhydroecgonine melts at 235 deg.C., and has an acid and a basic
character.It is an unsaturated compound, and on oxidation with
potassium permanganate gives succinic acid.It is apparently a tropidine
monocarboxylic acid, for on exhaustive methylation it yields
cycloheptatriene-1.3.5-carboxylic acid-7.Sodium in amyl alcohol
solution reduces it to hydroecgonidine C9H15NO2, while moderate
oxidation by potassium permanganate converts it into _norecgonine_.The
presence of the heptamethylene ring in these compounds is shown by the
production of suberone by the exhaustive methylation, &c., of
hydroecgonidine ethyl ester (see POLYMETHYLENES and TROPINE).The above
compounds may be represented as:
CH2--CH----CH COOH CH2--CH----CH COOH CH2--CH------CH COOH
| | | | | | | | |
| N CH3 CH OH | N CH3 CH | N CH3 CH2
| | | | | || | | |
CH2--CH----CH2 CH2--CH----CH CH2--CH------CH2
Ecgonine Anhydroecgonine Hydroecgonine
ECHEGARAY Y EIZAGUIRRE, JOSE (1833- ), Spanish mathematician,
statesman and dramatist, was born at Madrid in March 1833, and was
educated at the grammar school of Murcia, whence he proceeded to the
Escuela de Caminos at the capital.His exemplary diligence and unusual
mathematical capacity were soon noticed.In 1853 he passed out at the
head of the list of engineers, and, after a brief practical experience
at Almeria and Granada, was appointed professor of pure and applied
mathematics in the school where he had lately been a pupil.His
_Problemas de geometria analitica_ (1865) and _Teorias modernas de la
fisica unidad de las fuerzas materiales_ (1867) are said to be esteemed
by competent judges.He became a member of the Society of Political
Economy, helped to found _La Revista_, and took a prominent part in
propagating Free Trade doctrines in the press and on the platform.He
was clearly marked out for office, and when the popular movement of 1868
overthrew the monarchy, he resigned his post for a place in the
revolutionary cabinet.Between 1867 and 1874 he acted as minister of
education and of finance; upon the restoration of the Bourbon dynasty he
withdrew from politics, and won a new reputation as a dramatist.As early as 1867 he wrote _La Hija natural_, which was rejected, and
remained unknown till 1877, when it appeared with the title of _Para tal
culpa tal pena_.Another play, _La Ultima Noche_, also written in 1867,
was produced in 1875; but in the latter year Echegaray was already
accepted as the successful author of _El Libro talonario_, played at the
Teatro de Apolo on the 18th of February 1874, under the transparent
pseudonym of Jorge Hayaseca.Later in the same year Echegaray won a
popular triumph with _La Esposa del vengador_, in which the good and bad
qualities--the clever stagecraft and unbridled extravagance--of his
later work are clearly noticeable.From 1874 onwards he wrote, with
varying success, a prodigious number of plays.Among the most favourable
specimens of his talent may be mentioned _En el puno de la espada_
(1875); _O locura o santidad_ (1877), which has been translated into
Swedish and Italian; _En el seno de la muerte_ (1879), of which there
exists an admirable German version by Fastenrath._El gran Galeoto_
(1881), perhaps the best of Echegaray's plays in conception and
execution, has been translated into several languages, and still holds
the stage.The humorous proverb, _?Piensa mal y acertaras?_ exemplifies
the |
bathroom | Where is Mary? | His susceptibility to new ideas is illustrated
in such pieces as _Mariana_ (1892), _Mancha que limpia_ (1895), _El Hijo
de Don Juan_ (1892), and _El Loco Dios_ (1900): these indicate a close
study of Ibsen, and _El Loco Dios_ more especially might be taken for an
unintentional parody of Ibsen's symbolism.Echegaray succeeded to the literary inheritance of Lopez de Ayala and of
Tamayo y Baus; and though he possesses neither the poetic imagination of
the first nor the instinctive tact of the second, it is impossible to
deny that he has reached a larger audience than either.Not merely in
Spain, but in every land where Spanish is spoken, and in cities as
remote from Madrid as Munich and Stockholm, he has met with an
appreciation incomparably beyond that accorded to any other Spanish
dramatist of recent years.But it would be more than usually rash to
prophesy that this exceptional popularity will endure.There have been
signs of a reaction in Spain itself, and Echegaray's return to politics
in 1905 was significant enough.He applies his mathematics to the
drama; no writer excels him in artful construction, in the arrangement
of dramatic scenes, in mere theatrical technique, in the focusing of
attention on his chief personages.These are valuable gifts in their
way, and Echegaray has, moreover, a powerful, gloomy imagination, which
is momentarily impressive.In the drawing of character, in the invention
of felicitous phrase, in the contrivance of verbal music, he is
deficient.He alternates between the use of verse and prose; and his
hesitancy in choosing a medium of expression is amply justified, for the
writer's prose is not more distinguished than his verse.These serious
shortcomings may explain the diminution of his vogue in Spain; they will
certainly tell against him in the estimate of posterity.from _echelle_, ladder), in military tactics, a formation
of troops in which each body of troops is retired on, but not behind,
the flank of the next in front, the position of the whole thus
resembling the steps of a staircase.To form echelon from line, the
parts of the line move off, each direct to its front, in succession, so
that when the formation is completed the rightmost body, for example, is
farthest advanced, the one originally next on its left is to the left
rear, a third is to the left rear of the second, and so on.The word is
also used more loosely to express successive lines, irrespective of
distances and relative positions, e.g.the "second echelon of ammunition
supply," which is fully a day's march behind the first.ECHIDNA, or PORCUPINE ANT-EATER (_Echidna aculeata_), one of the few
species of Monotremata, the lowest subclass of Mammalia, forming the
family Echidnidae.It is a native of Australia, where it chiefly abounds
in New South Wales, inhabiting rocky and mountainous districts, where it
burrows among the loose sand, or hides itself in crevices of rocks.In
size and appearance it bears a considerable resemblance to the hedgehog,
its upper surface being covered over with strong spines directed
backwards, and on the back inwards, so as to cross each other on the
middle line.The spines in the neighbourhood of the tail form a tuft
sufficient to hide that almost rudimentary organ.The head is produced
into a long tubular snout, covered with skin for the greater part of its
length.The opening of the mouth is small, and from it the echidna puts
forth its long slender tongue, lubricated with a viscous secretion, by
means of which it seizes the ants and other insects on which it feeds.Its legs are short and strong, and form, with its broad
feet and large solid nails, powerful burrowing organs.In common with
the other monotremes, the male echidna has its heel provided with a
sharp hollow spur, connected with a secreting gland, and with muscles
capable of pressing the secretion from the gland into the spur.It is a
nocturnal or crepuscular animal, generally sleeping during the day, but
showing considerable activity by night.Nor does the joyous shout
Which all our lips give out
Jar on that quietude; more than may do
A radiant childish crew,
With well-accordant discord fretting the soft hour,
Whose hair is yellowed by the sinking blaze
Over a low-mouthed sea.Exult, yet be not twirled,
England, by gusts of mere
Blind and insensate lightness; neither fear
The vastness of thy shadow on the world.If in the East
Still strains against its leash the unglutted beast
Of War; if yet the cannon's lip be warm;
Thou, whom these portents warn but not alarm,
Feastest, but with thy hand upon the sword,
As fits a warrior race.Not like the Saxon fools of olden days,
With the mead dripping from the hairy mouth,
While all the South
Filled with the shaven faces of the Norman horde.John journeyed to the kitchen.CHAPTER XII
A. O. U. W. CONTROVERSY
One other case of some notoriety and public interest in which I was
engaged in the latter years of my practice was the controversy between
the two branches of the Ancient Order of United Workmen.It seems that
the Grand Lodge of this organization had adopted an amendment to their
plan of organization by which in case of extraordinary loss and
liability occurring in any locality, and within the jurisdiction of
some subordinate state lodge, the members of lodges in other states
might be assessed and required to contribute for the payment of such
extraordinary losses.A portion of the members in the state of Iowa
refused to recognize this requisition and seceded from the organization
as a national body, and organized another state lodge by the same name,
Ancient Order of United Workmen, and incorporated themselves under the
general provisions of the law of Iowa for the organization of
benevolent societies, repudiating any connection with the national
lodge.Those who adhered to the national organization still continued,
however, to do business by their old name and under their former
organization as adherents of the national body.The new organization,
relying upon their incorporation as giving them some special advantage,
brought suit in the district court of Dubuque county for an injunction
against this old organization adhering to the national body, and sought
to perpetually enjoin them from the use of the name "Ancient Order of
United Workmen," or the initials "A.O.U.W."Upon the trial of this
case on demurrer in the district court in Dubuque, I sought to obtain a
continuance of the hearing on the ground of my ill health, having been
confined to my room and my bed for some three weeks.The judge of the
district court granted a continuance only for a few days.I went to
Dubuque, however, and made a three hours' argument in the case, sitting
in my chair, not having strength to stand upon my feet.The court
granted a perpetual injunction against my client.An appeal was taken
immediately to the supreme court and an interlocutory order obtained
staying the injunction until the case could be heard in that court.John journeyed to the garden.On
the final hearing and trial the injunction was dissolved, and the right
of my client to use and do business under the title of "Ancient Order
of United Workmen" was successfully maintained.This decision is fully
reported in supreme court reports, 96 Iowa, 592.Mary went back to the bathroom.CHAPTER XIII
IMPORTANT EVENTS IN CAREER
It will be necessary now to go back a few years in order to record
certain events important in my personal career.In the summer of 1880 James A. Garfield received from the republican
national convention at Chicago the nomination as candidate for
President of the United States.At that time the states of Indiana and
Ohio continued to hold their state elections early in the month of
October, and the result of the elections in those two states in October
had a most important and almost controlling influence upon the result
of the presidential contest at the ensuing November election.Early in September of that year I received from the state central
committee of the state of Indiana an invitation to accompany
ex-Governor Kirkwood of Iowa in a canvassing tour of two weeks, which
invitation I accepted.Governor Kirkwood was a very companionable man and was received with
much honor and enthusiasm, and our meetings were largely attended and
were quite successful.Part of the time we did not speak together at
the same meetings, but had separate appointments assigned us.At one
point where there existed a considerable manufacturing industry, the
local committee waited upon us at our hotel before the speaking, and
suggested that they desired us to especially discuss the tariff
question and its effect upon our American manufacturers.After the
committee had retired Governor Kirkwood walked the floor of the room
for a few minutes, and turning suddenly upon me he said, "Charlie, do
you understand this tariff question?"I told him no, I knew very little
about it."Well," he said, "I was raised a democrat and am not much of
a tariff man anyhow, and I want you to take up this tariff question if
either of us must."Mary moved to the garden.I told him that I could talk about the general
effect of protecting American labor and the duty of the American
congress to so arrange the tariff upon imports as to relieve our people
from competition with the low wages paid in Europe; that the American
laborer must receive higher wages than the European laborer for he must
educate his children and must enjoy better conditions in life, and as
our free institutions were based upon the intelligence of the voter, we
could not afford to allow the laboring man to occupy the position
socially or politically of the European laborer; that I could talk
along that line all they wanted, but when it came to discussing
schedules or specific duties I should not venture upon any such
discourse; in fact, I was satisfied that few people understood the
subject sufficiently to discuss the detail of tariff duties with
intelligence.I filled the bill accordingly, as Governor Kirkwood
placed that part of the program in my charge, but he himself did not
say "tariff" once.At Indianapolis we attended a grand rally at which Roscoe Conkling, of
New York, was the principal orator of the day.The managers had
arranged for a grand parade, and the Governor with myself and several
other gentlemen were assigned to a carriage that was to take prominent
part in the procession.Conkling had arrived, it seems, early in the
day, and the procession was delayed for over an hour waiting for that
distinguished gentleman to complete his toilet before making his
appearance in public.The streets and the balcony of the hotel were
lined with ladies in their holiday attire, and as the procession passed
by we heard frequent inquiries from the finely dressed maidens as to
which was Conkling, and when he was pointed out to them they were
enthusiastic in their declarations that he was a handsome man.Conkling in the corridor of the hotel, after his
speech, and was shocked and surprised at his want of courtesy and
decent manners.He was there for the purpose of advocating the election
of Mr.Garfield, and adding if possible enthusiasm to the occasion, and
yet openly in the hearing of the crowd he was cursing the folly of the
convention in nominating Mr.Garfield instead of renominating Grant for
the third term.Daniel travelled to the bedroom.A more arrogant and conceited public man it has never
been my misfortune to meet.An incident occurred the following Sunday morning more pleasant to
record.I got up very early, and going down to the lower portico of the
hotel I found a few persons astir.I felt somewhat lonesome and seeing
a well dressed, intelligent looking <DW52> man on the pavement, I
entered into conversation with him in regard to the political
situation, and asked him whether or not the <DW52> men of the city
would not all support Mr.To my
surprise he said, "No, sah, some of them will vote the democratic
ticket."I said to him, "How is it possible for a <DW52> man to
support the democratic ticket in view of the history of the past
twenty-five years?The <DW52> race have been emancipated and
enfranchised and made equal before the law through the efforts of the
republican party of the nation.How, then, can any of your people
support the democratic party?""Well, sah," said he, "in some respects
a <DW52> man is very much like a white man."Said I, "What do you mean
by that?""Well, sah," said he, "I'll tell you.Occasionally, sah, you
will find a <DW52> man that is a damn fool."I saw a twinkle in his
eye and realized that he was intending his reply for a joke.John moved to the kitchen.I
immediately offered him my hand and shook hands with him heartily,
telling him that since there were so many white men of that kind I
supposed it would be unreasonable not to expect occasionally a <DW52>
man that was a fool.Upon my return to Iowa after the October election in Indiana I made a
speech in the opera house at Oskaloosa, Iowa, and the gallery was
filled with <DW52> men, many of them from What Cheer, a mining
district near Oskaloosa.I related to them the particulars of my
interview with the <DW52> gentleman of Indianapolis.John journeyed to the hallway.They enjoyed it
hugely and gave me rounds of applause, and I told them I hoped that in
some respects they would not be like the few that were back in Indiana.Garfield, Governor Kirkwood was appointed
Secretary of the Interior, and as I had official business before the
supreme court that summer I visited Washington City in company with my
wife, and spent a pleasant two weeks admiring the wonders of the
national capital.Bishop Andrews, of the Methodist Episcopal church,
had been for a number of years a resident of Des Moines and our near
neighbor on Fourth street, and in company with his excellent wife Mrs.Governor Kirkwood also arranged that
we should attend a private reception of the President and his wife, and
Mrs.Nourse enjoyed the privilege of quite a tete a tete with the
President's lady, officially known as the first lady of the land.When
my wife bid her good evening she shook hands with her and expressed the
hope that she would be very happy in her new position.Garfield
was rather a sad faced person and responded in a tone almost prophetic,
"I hope so.Garfield I was called upon to take part in a meeting held in the
Baptist church in Des Moines, commemorating the memory of that
excellent man.I found in my wife's scrap book some years afterwards a
newspaper clipping containing a report of the remarks I made on that
occasion which I here insert:
For the past five days our nation has been in mourning and the
Christian civilization of the world has sympathized with us in our
bereavement.By official proclamations, by public meetings and
resolutions, by draping our homes and places of business and houses
of worship with the emblems of mourning, we have sought to give
expression to our sorrow and to testify our appreciation of our
noble dead.Tomorrow the whole nation is to attend upon his burial and the day
is set apart as sacred to his memory.And yet with all this we
cannot restore the life that has been so wantonly destroyed.Death
is inexorable, and we can do nothing for him who has gone out from
the shores of time forever.But in a better sense of the word Garfield is not dead.So long as we
cherish the manly virtues of which his life was the exponent, so long
as we remember the trials and sacrifices of his boyhood, the labors and
successes of his riper years, the heroism, faith, fidelity of his life,
and the calm triumphant heroism of his death, so long will he live to
us and to the nation, and so long may we be profited by his life.I can think of no better text this morning for profitable consideration
than one of the many rich gems of thought he has left us out of the
storehouse of this great heart and intellect.At the graves of the
fallen heroes of the late war he expressed this sentiment, "I love to
believe that no heroicMary went back to the bathroom. |
bathroom | Where is Mary? | In the oldest book of the Book of Books the patient man in his deep
affliction asks the question, "If a man dies shall he live again?"This
question refers primarily to man's immortality, but we may dwell upon
it in its other meaning, this morning, as relating to the silent and
unconscious power and influence of the life and example of the one whom
we say is dead.And think what a treasure we have in the memory of this man.Others
have challenged the admiration of the world because of their great
abilities.Others have been brave in war and wise in counsel.Others
have been heroes and statesmen, and we have honored them and done
homage to their greatness, but this man was not only great and wise and
brave, but a good, true and pure man also, and the nation loved him.We
give honor to his greatness, we give the tribute of praise to his great
abilities and his great achievements, but we bring tears and heart
throbs to the tomb where manly virtue, purity, and faith are to be
enshrined.How much there is in the life of this man that we would wish
to bring into the everyday life of our homes.Here is the model of a
life from which we would have our children mold their own future, no
blemishes to record, nothing to apologize for, nothing to cover up--it
stands out in its moral perfection and beauty--in its intellectual
strength and greatness--in its religious faith and fervor, a fully
developed manhood--a complete character--a perfect pattern.Repeat to him the story of
this man's youth, of his struggle with poverty and adversity, without
influential friends or fortune.John journeyed to the kitchen.Do you want to teach the young men of
the nation the value of sincerity, honesty, earnestness, and
truthfulness in the affairs of life?John journeyed to the garden.Here is the demonstration and the
proof that even in American politics and American statesmanship,
dishonesty, deceit, and duplicity are not necessary to success.Do you
want to rebuke the conceit of the would-be learned who teach our young
men that the religious faith that their mothers taught them is somehow
a reproach to their intellectual progress--we have here a man of the
broadest culture, of the strongest intellectual grasp and development,
whose religious faith was the very basis and strength of his greatness
and intellectual power.CHAPTER XIV
THE BROWN IMPEACHMENT CASE
The discussion of law cases and the questions of fact and of law that
they involved may be a little tedious to a non-professional reader, but
they constituted so large a part in my life that it is impossible to
give much of an account of myself and what I have been doing for so
many years past, without at least a brief account of the nature of the
suits in which I was engaged as counsel.Probably the most important case in which I was engaged during my
professional career was the celebrated impeachment case against John L.
Brown, Auditor of the state of Iowa.Mary went back to the bathroom.Brown was first elected to the office of Auditor of State in
October, 1882, and took his office the following January.One of the
important duties of this office was the duty of having the insurance
companies, organized under the laws of Iowa and doing business in the
state, examined from time to time to ascertain if they complied
strictly with the law, and if their reports made to his office were
just and true, and their business conducted in such a manner as to
insure their solvency and ability to pay the losses of their policy
holders.There had been in the state of Iowa for a number of years a
number of failures of companies that were organized without capital and
without experience or strict integrity upon the part of those who
sought to insure the property of others, some of them having none of
their own.I remember one insurance company organized in Des Moines by
an enterprising young lawyer, without means, who obtained the names of
a number of persons that he claimed had subscribed stock to his
company.The law required twenty-five per cent of this stock to be paid
up before the company was entitled to do business.The gentleman, of
course, elected himself president of the company, and he drew his
drafts upon the supposed subscribers to stock for the twenty-five per
cent that the law required should be paid up, to constitute the capital
of the company.He took these drafts to B. F. Allen, then a prominent
banker in western Iowa and doing business in Des Moines, and deposited
his drafts and obtained from Allen a certificate of deposit for so much
money.This he exhibited to the Auditor of State, and upon the faith of
this certificate of deposit obtained authority to transact business.His drafts were all dishonored so that he was proceeding to do business
without any capital whatever, and actually issued some policies.It was
only necessary to incur a loss to complete the bankruptcy of the
concern.Of course the foregoing is an extreme case, but it illustrates
how easily the law was evaded and how absolutely necessary it was to
have a strict supervision of these companies that could incorporate
themselves under the general insurance company laws of the state.Brown had been a soldier in the Civil War and had lost an arm in
its service, was very upright, and a downright man, and did not depend
upon his suavity of manner for his success in life.He was a man of
quick temper and abrupt manners, but was sensitive of his honor and at
all times conscious of his integrity of purpose.In pursuance of his
official duty he felt the necessity of strict supervision and a
thorough examination of the insurance companies of the state, that had
sprung up in almost every important town and city in the state, and the
officers and directors of the different companies were not paying much
attention to the detail of the affairs of their companies and would
generally entrust the business to the persons who had organized the
company and become its president and secretary.In selecting a person
who could make these examinations with fidelity and thoroughness he
deemed it necessary to engage some one who was not a resident of the
state and who would not probably be influenced by local or political
consideration in the discharge of his duties.He employed as chief
examiner of these companies a gentleman who resided in Chicago, and
whose reputation was beyond question as an expert, by the name of H. S.
Vail.This gentleman charged for his services twenty-five dollars a day
for the time actually engaged, and in addition thereto some five to ten
dollars for assistant accountants.The law provided that the expenses
of these investigations should be approved by the Auditor, and upon his
certificate the several companies examined were required to pay the
bill.These examinations proved to be very expensive in some cases, and
perhaps in a few cases an unnecessary burden and expense to the
companies, but the real cause of complaint was that the expert found
many irregularities, and without fear or favor, reported them in
writing to the Auditor for his action.In one case the president of an
insurance company had been electing his board of directors by stock
issued to himself, upon which he had not paid a dollar into his
treasury, and was paying himself out of the limited income of the
company the handsome sum of ten thousand dollars a year as president,
and his son-in-law three thousand dollars a year as attorney of the
company.In a number of cases the president of the company was found to
have issued to himself stock upon which he had not paid a dollar, and
the Auditor required all of these and many other like delinquencies to
be corrected.He was visited by the friends and attorneys of these officers who were
thus disturbed in their operations, and the Auditor was not found to be
a very complacent or accommodating individual, but on the contrary an
outspoken, determined, and unyielding man in the discharge of what he
conceived to be his duties.The last resource of these afflicted
insurance officers was an appeal to Buren R. Sherman, then Governor of
Iowa, formerly filling the office of Auditor of State and under whose
administration these insurance men had been undisturbed.Brown equally obdurate and unwilling to palliate or in any way overlook
the delinquencies of these insurance companies, but he determined to
afford his friends some relief, and upon the re-election of Mr.Brown
as Auditor of State in the fall of 1884, he sought an excuse for
refusing to approve of the official bond that Mr.Brown presented to
him and which was necessary to the qualification of the Auditor for his
second term of office.The first pretense of Sherman for refusing to
approve the Auditor's bond was that Mr.Brown had not complied with the
law in making report to the Treasurer of State as the law required of
the fees of his office.As it turned out in the evidence on the trial,
and as Sherman well knew the fact to be, the fees of the office had
been reported and accounted for as the statute required, save only that
the aggregate amount of the fees as shown by the fee-book in the
Auditor's office had been reported and accounted for at the end of each
month, and the details specifying from what source each item was
received was not copied from the fee-book in the Auditor's office and
filed with the State Treasurer.In addition to this the Governor also
obtained information from a discharged clerk in the Auditor's office
that the clerks in the office frequently received compensation of small
sums for giving information and collecting statistical matter at the
request of individuals where no official duty was enjoined by law upon
the Auditor or his assistants and no fee was prescribed.Mary moved to the garden.As no account
was kept of these small sums of money and they were paid to the clerk
who did the voluntary work for persons requesting it, no statement
could be made of the amounts or dates, or the services rendered.In the meantime the controversy spread, the insurance companies through
their officers and agents taking an active part as against Mr.We had upon the statute book a law whereby the Governor of the state
was authorized to suspend a subordinate officer, if indeed there was
any such thing as a subordinate officer under our constitution, by
appointing a commission to examine his books and papers and the affairs
of his office, and if, upon making such report to the Governor, it was
apparent that the public safety required a suspension of the officer
from official duties, he might issue such order of suspension.Daniel travelled to the bedroom.Sherman
found three men willing to do his bidding in this respect and appointed
them commissioners to examine the affairs of all the state officers.The commissioners understood that this meant only Brown and meant only
that they should put into form Sherman's side of his controversy with
the Auditor.John moved to the kitchen.The committee accordingly performed what was required of
them and reported to the Governor that the public safety and public
good required the suspension of the Auditor.They reported no facts in
addition to those already recited in regard to the money received by
the clerks in the office for matters outside of their official duties,
save and except fees paid by certain banks for bank examinations under
the law, for which no fee was provided by law, and which they advised
the Governor that the Attorney General claimed did not belong to the
state treasury, but were illegally charged and paid.They also informed
the Governor that in the year of 1883, the correspondence notifying the
Auditor of the requirements of the insurance companies in regard to the
appointment of agents had been destroyed.As all of these appointments
were matters of record and the fees for their issuing were also
regularly entered upon the books of the Auditor, this was one of the
extraordinary finds of this extraordinary committee.They also advised
the Governor in this report that the law required the reports of fees
should be sworn to, and their interpretation of the law was that the
Auditor himself should have made the affidavit, and instead thereof it
was made by a clerk in the office.Upon this remarkable report of this remarkable commission Sherman at
once made an order, not suspending but removing Mr.Brown from office,
and appointing J. W. Cattell, formerly Auditor of State, to take his
place.Cattell was in no very great haste to do this, but after the
order was served by the sheriff upon Mr.Brown he very wisely entered
into a negotiation with Brown to see if the difficulty could not in
some way be adjusted, and have Brown make such reports to the Governor
as would be satisfactory.John journeyed to the hallway.Cattell was an honorable and honest man,
and really desired that these matters should be satisfactorily
arranged, but this was not the purpose of the Governor as manifested by
his conduct, and he determined to have his own way.He accordingly
filed information before a justice of the peace accusing Brown of a
misdemeanor in holding the office after his order of suspension or
removal, and upon this affidavit he obtained a warrant for the arrest
of Mr.The constable served the warrant upon Brown, and Mr.Mary went back to the bathroom.Brown was about to give bond for his appearance to answer the charge,
when the Governor, having previously ordered and arranged with the
Adjutant General so to do, appeared with an armed force of the
Governor's Guards, so-called, who, with set bayonets and loaded muskets
took charge of the Auditor's office.Hearing that something of an
extraordinary nature was transpiring at the capitol, I left my office
and went over to the state house to see what could be done for my
client, and was proceeding to the Auditor's office when I was stopped
by two of the soldiers crossing bayonets in front of me, one of them
cocking his rifle and threatening to shoot me if I proceeded any
further.Fortunately the captain commanding the squad had a little
sense left and told the soldier to put up his gun, and so my life was
saved.The Governor in addition to the use of the militia as above
recited, also employed ex-Governor William M. Stone to assist Mr.Galusha Parsons, and they filed a petition in the name of Jonathan W.
Cattell against John L. Brown in the district court of Polk county
under the provision of the statute for proceedings in "quo warranto" by
which the right and title to an office could be tested.We were
fortunate in having for district judge at that time William Connor, a
good lawyer and an honest man.Parsons and Governor Stone attempted
upon the presentation of their petition to get some peremptory order
for the removal of Mr.Brown from office, but the court called their
attention to the express provision of the statute that he had no
authority to make any order in the premises until the final trial, and
that the case must go upon the docket and be tried upon its merits
before any order or removal could be made.Upon the impeachment trial
Sherman under oath denied that he had employed counsel to commence this
suit, and Mr.Cattell testified that he had nothing to do with the
employment of any counsel to bring the suit.John journeyed to the bathroom.The suit was finally
dismissed, nobody appearing to care about any investigation of the
merits of the proceeding.Brown, who had given
bail, surrender himself to his bondsmen, and we applied to the supreme
court of the state, then sitting at Davenport, for a writ of habeas
corpus to test the constitutionality of the statute under which,
without trial and without investigation and without hearing, the
Governor had attempted to deprive Mr.The supreme
court decided this case at the Dubuque term in 1885, Seevers, judge,
delivering a dissenting opinion, and Beck, judge, taking no part in the
decision as he was not present at the submission of the cause.Adams,
judge, delivered the opinion of the three remaining judges; to-wit,
himself, Rothrock, and Reed.The majority of the court held that the
law under which the Governor acted did not authorize any removal from
office, and that it was only constitutional upon the hypothesis that
Brown should have a hearing and trial.The dissenting opinion of Judge
Seevers holds that as the law made no provision for any hearing or
trial, and the suspension was for an indefinite time and might at the
pleasure of the Governor be perpetual, it was therefore void and did
not authorize the proceedings.Thus matters stood until the fall of the
year 1885, when the people elected William Larrabee as Governor instead
of Sherman, whose term of office would expire on the first of January
ensuing.The presumption indulged in by the majority of the court in its opinion
that Mr.Brown's removal from office was only a temporary suspension,
and that the Governor certainly would give him a hearing as to the
matters complained of and found by the special commission, is made to
appear more absurd by the subsequent action of Mr.Sherman himself,
who, on the 9th of December, 1885, made the following entry in the
executive journal, and assumed to appoint J. W. Cattell to fill what he
was pleased to call a vacancy in the office of the Auditor of State.The entry is as follows:
DECEMBER, 9, 1885.Whereas, at the general electionSandra moved to the kitchen. |
bedroom | Where is Daniel? | BUREN R. SHERMAN
A legislature was elected that fall, and as the only opportunity for a
hearing and a vindication of Mr.Brown, he sent a communication to the
house of representatives requesting an investigation and an
impeachment, to the end that he might have a trial before the senate.The insurance agents of the state who had been wounded by the
investigation of their affairs, Sherman and his political adherents
filled the lobbies of the legislature, and were anxious also for
Brown's impeachment.Finally the house of representatives brought in
articles of impeachment, containing thirty counts, and the senate
ordered Mr.Brown's counsel throughout all of these difficulties, he came
to me for aid and wished me to act as his counsel.In the meantime he
had received a number of letters from "Tom, Dick, and Harry" throughout
the state, lawyers who wished to do some cheap advertising of
themselves, offering to attend to his case without compensation.Brown that I would undertake his case on condition that I might
select my own assistants.I realized that the court, to-wit, the fifty
senators then entitled to seats in the senate, was of rather peculiar
construction.Mary journeyed to the office.We had in the first place a large majority of
republicans, but we also had a number of very able and influential
democrats in the senate.We had some Germans and some opposed to
prohibition.It was necessary, in selecting attorneys, to consult the
peculiar constitution of the senate and its make-up, and political
partialities and proclivities.Brown agreed to my terms and I named
Mr.J. C. Bills, of Davenport, and Mr.Fred W. Lehmann, of Des Moines,
as the attorneys I desired to assist me in his defense.Lehmann was
an excellent lawyer and a rising young man, very popular at that time
with the democrats of the state.Bills was then nominally a
republican, but had opposed the prohibitory law and stood well with
that political element, besides being a good lawyer.Acting upon my theory as to first impression, I made an opening
statement to the senate giving them a very careful and detailed history
of the case, and of the facts that we expected to prove upon the
several counts of the indictment or impeachment.In addition to these
two counsel we also had the assistance of E. S. Huston, of Burlington,
a relative of S. F. Stewart, the deputy auditor.Huston especially
looked after and cared for the interests of the deputy during the
trial.The managers upon the part of the house of representatives were
Messrs.S. M. Weaver, John H. Keatley, L. A. Riley, G. W. Ball, J. E.
Craig, R. G. Cousins, E. C. Roach.I found I had made no mistake in selecting my assistant
attorneys.We had a room set apart for us in the capitol, where we were
in counsel arranging the program for the day's work before the senate,
and assigning to each attorney his particular share of the work of the
day.I always dreaded in cooperating with attorneys in the trial of
causes, having some one to assist me who would be an annoyance and a
drawback rather than a help, but I found in Mr.Bills
two good lawyers and men of good judgment and discretion, and we had a
most agreeable as well as a successful time of it on our side of the
trial table.The trial had not progressed more than a few weeks before we were able
to turn the tide of feeling and sentiment in our favor, or rather in
favor of our client, and the case, instead of being a prosecution of
John L. Brown, actually became an exposure of the petty tyranny and
foolishness of Buren R. Sherman, and the managers on the part of the
house were forced into the position of recognizing Sherman as their
client and recognizing the necessity of defending his conduct rather
than of convicting Mr.It also was apparent before we had proceeded very far in the case that
the managers of the prosecution did not entirely agree from time to
time between themselves as to the part that each should take in the
proceedings.Some of the men had evidently hoped to make a great
reputation for themselves as lawyers, and were being disappointed in
the result as to that particular.We had one serious hindrance and drawback in our case.F. S. Stewart,
the deputy auditor, proved a very heavy load to carry.He had many
winning ways by which he made no friends, and his conduct proved him to
be a greedy, grasping man, and if the impeachment had been against him
instead of Mr.Brown we should have found "Jordan a hard road to
travel."In addition to his regular salary he had drawn a very
considerable sum of money for extra pay and compensation for work he
had done in the Auditor's office, as he claimed, out of regular hours.He had also collected as bank examiner from the various banks he
examined a considerable amount of fees for which there was no provision
or warrant of law, and had taken the money to his own use.Brown and the only one from which we
apprehended any danger, grew out of the examination of the Bremer
County Bank, situated in Waverly, Bremer county, Iowa.That bank had
for its rival another bank in the locality, that probably would have
profited by having it go out of business, and they were entirely
disappointed and dissatisfied because the examination of the bank by
Mr.Brown in person and by an assistant proved the bank to be a solvent
concern.After the examination of the bank and after Mr.Brown had
given in for publication a certificate of their solvency, and without
any previous request for compensation or suggestion of payment from any
source, the cashier of the bank had paid to Mr.Brown voluntarily the
sum of one hundred dollars as compensation for his extra services and
expenses during the investigation of the affairs of the bank.The charge in the articles of impeachment was that this was a bribe to
Mr.Brown that had induced him to certify fraudulently and falsely to
the solvency of the bank.We proved beyond controversy that the bank
was solvent and continued to be so for several years after the
investigation, and that the certificate of solvency given to it was
just and right and proper, and there was no foundation for the charge
that it was given from any corrupt motive.This matter of the Bremer
County Bank did not constitute any part of the original trouble or
accusation against Brown by the Governor, but it was trumped up by
Brown's enemies and was soon gathered in by the Governor's "muck-rake."After all the evidence had been put in, both upon the part of the
prosecution and the defense, there remained one important question for
us to decide--as to whether or not we would put Mr.Brown upon the
stand as a witness in his own case.M._ There, you see, you know all about _her_!_hastens to explain that her name is on the
programme_._Miss Lardie_ (_sings_)--
See us lurch along in line, with a straggle serpentine,
[_She suits the action to the word._
For we've done a heavy fuddle, and we never pass a "pub"!And if you want a proof how we chuck about our "oof"--
Why, come along and have a drink with the Rowdy Razzle Club!M._ I suppose that's intended as a satire on noisy young men,
isn't it, Captain ALCHIN?_Captain Alch._ (_who hadn't thought of it in that light_).Well--ha--that depends on how you _take_ it, don't you know.M._ That's the way _I_ shall take it, and then it's quite moral.(_A Low Comedian, in a broad-brimmed hat and a rough black wig, makes
his appearance_.)This must be WALTER WILDFIRE, I suppose.he looks _quite_ nice, and not really vulgar.I was wondering what there could
possibly be in such a common little man as that to make such a fuss
about.Daniel journeyed to the bedroom.Captain ALCHIN, what _does_ he mean by
saying that he was "dotted on the crust by a copper," and "went off
his onion"?Alch._ (_who foresees rocks ahead if he once undertakes to
interpret_).Oh, well, they're always inventin' some new slang, you
know, Mrs.MERRIDEW; no use tryin' to keep up with it.[Miss CISSIE CINDERS _appears as a bedraggled maid of all
work, and sings a doleful ditty to the effect that_--"Her
missis will not let her wear no feathers in her 'at, so her
sojer's gone and given 'er the chuck."Isn't she refreshing--so _deliciously_
vulgar!THEA, you're sitting as quiet
as a little mouse in that corner.I hope you're not too dreadfully
shocked?_I'm_ not--at least of course I am, really; but it's not
nearly so bad as I expected.[Illustration: "See us lurch along in line, with a straggle
serpentine."]_Althea._ Oh, I'm not in the least shocked, CISSIE, thanks; only I
don't quite understand it all.M._ My dear, no more do I. I don't understand _any_ of it--but
that makes no difference!I don't like to say so, but I _am_
disappointed.CURPHEW said it would be like a Penny Reading; but
it's not a bit, it's ever so much stupider.But he never goes himself,
so of course----
_Mrs.M._ It's quite a respectable audience; I thought we should
be the only people in evening dress, but we're not.I do wish they
wouldn't allow quite so much smoking, though; the atmosphere's getting
something too awful.Oh, THEA, do look in that box just opposite._Alth._ (_looking round the edge of the curtain_).Where, CISSIE, who
is it?M._ Why, quite the typical British Matron--_the_ most
tremendously proper-looking person; so if _she_ doesn't see any harm
in being here, I'm sure we needn't.I'll tell you when she pops her
her head out again._Alth._ (_faintly_).I--I saw her _that_ time.(_To herself._)
Is this a wicked conscience--or what?M._ Did you _ever_ see such a grim old frump, THEA?I wonder
what possessed her to come to a place like this?She doesn't look as
if it was amusing her much._Alth._ (_distractedly_).(_To herself._) If it _should_
be Mamma!If she has found out in some way that we were to be here
to-night and followed us!Suppose she were
to see me, and--and come round and fetch me away; how awful it would
be!But she can't see me through these curtains.I don't believe it
_is_ Mamma.Oh, why did I get CISSIE to
bring me here?Alch._ May I borrow your opera glass for a moment, Mrs.(_As he looks through it._) There's goin'
to be a row in that opposite box.Your British Matron's gettin' her
quills up--give you my word she is.(_She holds out her hand for the glass,
which_ Capt.Somebody's just come in and----Now there's another, a young man,
and--oh, THEA!_Alth._ (_in an agony_).(_To
herself._) It must be CHARLES--I'm sure it's CHARLES.Then _that_'s
why--and it _is_ Mamma!(_Aloud._) Mayn't I have the glass?M._ I think you had better not, dear.The British Matron has
boxed the poor young man's ears--she has really.I wonder what--but
well, it doesn't matter.Now she's turned him out of the box.Yes, the old lady has certainly gone--it's all
over.I'm _so_ sorry; it was ever so much more interesting than that
big fat man who's singing!_Alth._ (_tremulously_).Mayn't I look now, CISSIE, if it's all over?(_She almost snatches the glass, and directs it at the young man in
Box C--then to herself, with relief._) Why, it isn't CHARLES--it's
not even like him.Then--oh, what a goose I've been!It was all my fancy, and she had on rather the same kind of
bonnet.As if Mamma would come to a music-hall and box the ears of
somebody she didn't know!But _what_ a fright it gave me![_She begins to feel capable of enjoying the performance._
_Col.Now we're going to see the great man,
CECILIA.WILDFIRE'S down to sing next.Alch._ Don't you be too sure, FRANK.They haven't put the
number up yet, you see.As likely as not they'll put in an "extra
turn," and he won't come at all.I've known that happen lots of times
when you come on purpose to see somethin', don't you know.M._ Really, Captain ALCHIN, I shall begin to suspect that you
are more of an authority about music-halls than your modesty would
admit at first.MERRIDEW,
all I mean is WILDFIRE'S bringin' out a play or somethin' to-night at
the Hilarity, so he mayn't be able to turn up here, don't you see.M._ I won't have you predicting evil like that; it's not at all
nice of you, and you're quite wrong, too; for there's his number in
the frame now![_The Scene on the Stage changes once more from an Oriental
Palace to a London Street; a bell tingles; the Orchestra
dashes into the air of_ "The Hansom Cabman," _which the bulk
of the audience hail with delight; then a stream of limelight
is thrown on the boards, and_ WALTER WILDFIRE _appears_.I don't know what it is, but
there's something about him very different from all the others.And
they say he writes all his own songs and music--so clever of him!Quite a striking face he has, rather handsome, with that drooping
moustache.Don't _you_ think he's handsome, THEA?(ALTHEA _does not
answer_; WILDFIRE _sings the last verse; as he concludes, the house is
hushed for an instant, and then breaks into a thunder of applause_.)It's quite beautiful that last verse; poor, poor fellow!Ah, he's not going to sing the last verse again.I'm
rather glad, for I very nearly howled, and it would be too silly to
cry at a music-hall.(_Interval._) Here he is again; how different he
looks.(WILDFIRE _goes through
the second song with the small child; in the midst of the second
stanza, he suddenly falters, and only recovers himself by a violent
effort_; ALTHEA _has bent forward out of the shadow of the curtain_.)It's too frightfully pathetic; he's such a dear, isn't he?(_The
applause is more rapturous than ever; an encore is clamoured for_;
WILDFIRE _reappears, looking ghastly pale, and makes a mute plea for
indulgence; after he has finally retired, the clamour still continues,
until the scene and the number are shifted_.)He won't sing
any more--how sad!(_In an
undertone._) Why, ALTHEA, darling!_Alth._ (_in a shaken voice_).D--don't speak to me just yet, CISSIE.I know it's very foolish of me; but I can't bear it.Gad, I'd give somethin' to sing like
that Johnny, and make her eyes shine like that!M._ FRANK, we may as well go now, there's nothing else worth
staying for, and I'm sure this horrid tobacco is ruining my poor
pearls; or would you rather stay a little longer, THEA?_Alth._ Oh, no, no; I don't want to hear anybody else--after that.CURPHEW said nothing would induce him to go and see.And |
bedroom | Where is Mary? | [_She leaves the box with her party._
END OF SCENE XII.* * * * *
OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.COLONEL COLVILE chivalrously takes upon himself responsibility for
the title of the volume in which his wife has recorded their joint
experience of a trip round the coast of Africa._Round the Black Man's
Garden_ is about as bad a title as a book could have.COLVILE'S clever travel notes triumphantly carry the weight.The
travellers commenced their journey at Suez, visiting places in the
Red Sea which voyagers by the P. and O. steamers pass by on the
other side.They made their way down the west coast by all the most
uncomfortable means of conveyance attainable, culminating in the
filanzana, in which instrument of torture they were carried across the
hills and through the swamps of Madagascar.Colonel COLVILE, just
now enjoying himself amid the privations of the journey up country to
Uganda, is well known as an indomitable traveller.COLVILE he
found a worthy companion.On a merry page of the narrative of life in
Madagascar, it is incidentally mentioned that the travellers arrive at
Malatsy with their luggage soaking after a dip in the river.They dine
in a whitewashed hut, with an army of big cockroaches overrunning the
walls.Resuming their journey next morning they "entered a dense cloud
of singularly malignant little black flies."The half-naked porters
were soon streaming with blood, and the passengers' faces were in a
similar condition.COLVILE, in her cheery way,
"we were soon clear of the infested belt, to move in the course of
half-an-hour into a flight of locusts."COLVILE takes as the
motto of her book the proverb, _Qui suit son chemin arrive a la fin_.My Baronite arrived at the end of Mrs.COLVILE'S fascinating narrative
full of admiration for her courage and good temper.But as long as
Piccadilly and Pall Mall are not "up," he will be content with them,
and would rather not follow her road.BARON DE BOOK-WORMS & CO.* * * * *
THE CABMAN'S GUIDE TO POLITENESS.--No.(_In short, easy Lessons, arranged after the fashion of the
Child's Handbook to Useful Knowledge._)
[Illustration]
_Question._ I suppose your chief desire is to make as much out of the
public as possible?_Q._ And you will be as glad to attain your object by politeness as by
any other method?_A._ Well, of course it don't matter to me how I get the coin, so long
as I do get it.Well, have you ever tried to be polite?Well, I will attempt to teach you its meaning by
example._A._ Thank you; so long as it helps me, and don't hurt you, what's the
odds?_Q._ Certainly; I see that you have some rudimentary knowledge of the
matter already.Suppose a fare gave you less than what
you considered your right charge, how would you behave?_A._ If a policeman wasn't in the way, I should say "What's this?"_Q._ Have you found this a successful method of obtaining an increase?Mary journeyed to the office._A._ Well, no, not much.Of course if you get an old lady, or a mother
with a heap of children, you can do almost anything with them._Q._ But let us take a smart cavalry officer, who knows his way about
town, do you think the method you suggest would be successful with
him?_A._ No, I don't; but no cavalry officer who was really smart would
offer me less than my fare._Q._ But we are assuming that there may be some question about the
fare.For instance, what would you consider the right charge from
Charing Cross railway-station to the St._A._ Why, eighteen pence, to be sure, and a cheap eighteen pence in
the bargain._Q._ Your computation of the charge will suit my purpose.Of course,
you know that the police put the distance at something less than two
miles, I may say considerably less?_A._ I daresay they do, but the police are not everybody, and you said
I was not to consider the constables if they weren't on the spot.If
they were, of course that would make a difference._Q._ Assume you get a shilling.Now suppose you were to look at the
coin, and to say, "I beg your pardon, Sir, but are you aware this
shilling is a George the Fourth, or a well-preserved William the
Fourth, or an early Victoria, would you not like to exchange it for
one of less historical interest?"Do you not think that such a speech,
with a civil touch of the hat, would immediately attract attention?_A._ It might, but I can't say for certain, as I have never tried it._Q._ I did not suppose that you had.Do you not believe that were you
to make such a remark your kind consideration would receive attention?_A._ Quite as likely as not, but what then?_Q._ Well, having established yourself on a friendly footing, could
you not improve the occasion by adding, "I do not know whether you are
aware of the fact, Sir, but I frequently receive eighteen pence for
the very distance you have just travelled?"_A._ Of course I could, but what good would it be?_Q._ That you will probably find out if you act on my suggestion, and
now, as I have taught you enough for to-day, I will adopt a driver's
phrase and "pull up."Have you anything polite to say to me which will
prove to me that you have been bettered by my instruction?_A._ Nothing that I can think of, unless it be, "Thank you for
nothing."_Q._ That is scarcely the reply I had expected.However, do not be
disheartened, to thank me at all is a move in the right direction._A._ Well, yes, when I have nothing better to do._Q._ I am infinitely obliged to you.Good-bye, and I hope you will adopt my method and find it successful.* * * * *
[Illustration: THINGS ONE WOULD RATHER HAVE EXPRESSED DIFFERENTLY."DON'T GO, CANON; I WANT TO INTRODUCE YOU TO A LADY WHO WISHES TO MAKE
YOUR ACQUAINTANCE.""OH--ER--I'M RATHER IN A HURRY; SOME OTHER DAY, PERHAPS--ER--ER.""IT'S MY WIFE, YOU KNOW.""OH, THAT'S _DIFFERENT_.I THOUGHT YOU SAID A _LADY_!* * * * *
THE BLACK SHADOW.We're near to the gloomy GUY FAUX anniversary,
Nigh to the gorging of Lord Mayor's Day,
But though 'tis November, there's joy in the Nursery
Ruled by Nurse GLADSTONE out Westminster way.The summer's long troubles are laid on the shelf
And "Nana" looks quite like enjoying herself.Daniel journeyed to the bedroom.That bothersome bantling, the big Irish baby,
Is tucked up in bed for a long forty winks.Mary went to the bedroom.(Though its shrill Banshee howl will be heard again, maybe,
From waking it, _yet_, even Nana G.So now for a nice quiet time, if you please,
With the brace of most sweet-tempered bairns on her knees.They're English--quite English, and easy to handle,
Won't raise horrid noises and anger the House.They're pleasant to see and delightful to dandle,
And Nana opines that, with nursery _nous_,
They'll be got "nicely off"--if she makes no mistakes--
Before that Hibernian worry awakes."To market, to market, to buy a fat piggy!(But O, not a poor Irish pig--in a poke!)"So pipes Nana GLADSTONE so jocund and jiggy
She ekes out her Nursery lilt with a joke."We've done, for a season, with row-de-dow-dow,
And there's no 'Bogey Man,' dears, to bother us now!"Nurses, we know, find the "Black Man" most handy
To frighten their charges to quiet at times;
But now 'tis all "Hush-a-bye, Babes!"And such soothing carols and quieting rhymes,
No need for a "black ugly thing in the garden"
To quiet _these_ babes, thinks old Nana from Hawarden!Bogey Men are such rum 'uns,
And some Ugly Things are "too previous," or worse.How oft the Black Shadow appears without summons,
And terrifies not the poor babes, but their Nurse!Nana's not disturbed--yet--by the Irish babe's squall,
But--what means that black-boding shade on the wall?It's really a nuisance, it does seem a shame
That just as Nurse G. is prepared to make merry
With two such sweet bantlings _this_ Spook spoils the game!Nurse, I'm afraid
The Dark Continent casts o'er your babes a Black Shade!* * * * *
THE THREE V'S.(_Voice, Vote, and Veto._)
[What the brewers want is a Reform Bill by which "every adult
resident with a throat should have a vote."--_Westminster
Gazette._]
"When wine is in the wit is out"
Was once held wisdom past all doubt;
But now 'twould seem that every throttle
That hath capacity for the bottle,
Must have it also for the suffrage.No more need rowdy Rad or rough rage.Throat-suffrage should please everybody
Who lets out noise or takes in toddy,
By way of a capacious throat
Can drink and shout--One Throat, one Vote!* * * * *
FROM MR.JAMES'S PARK.--"Thank you, Sir.Mother and
child, Master CORMORANT and Mrs.CORMORANT, are doing uncommonly well.But permit me, accidents will happen, and I should
like to make provision--you understand.In my newspaper I see
advertised 'Eagle Insurance Co.,' 'Pelican Life Insurance Co.'Why are
the Eagle and the Pelican to be benefited, and not the Cormorant--and
others?I speak for myself, and am yours
Devouringly, Captain CORMORANT."* * * * *
SOMETHING IN A NAME.--Most appropriate official to make a "Budget
Statement"--Sir GEORGE "DIBBS."* * * * *
A STRIKE MOTTO.--"'Tis true, 'tis pitty; and pitty 'tis, 'tis true."* * * * *
[Illustration: THE BLACK SHADOW."NOW, MY LITTLE DEARS, WE SHALL HAVE A NICE QUIET
TIME--ALL TO OURSELVES!"NURSE, I'M AFRAID THE DARK CONTINENT CASTS O'ER
YOUR BABES A BLACK SHADE!"]* * * * *
THE ADVENTURES OF PICKLOCK HOLES.VI.--THE UMBROSA BURGLARY.During one of my short summer holidays I happened to be spending a few
days at the delightful riverside residence of my friend JAMES
SILVER, the extent of whose hospitality is only to be measured by
the excellence of the fare that he sets before his guests, or by the
varied amusements that he provides for them.The beauties of Umbrosa
(for that is the attractive name of his house) are known to all those
who during the summer months pass up (or down) the winding reaches of
the Upper Thames.It was there that I witnessed a series of startling
events which threw the whole county into a temporary turmoil.Had it
not been for the unparalleled coolness and sagacity of PICKLOCK
HOLES the results might have been fraught with disaster to many
distinguished families, but the acumen of HOLES saved the situation
and the family-plate, and restored the peace of mind of one of the
best fellows in the world.The party at Umbrosa consisted of the various members of the SILVER
family, including, besides Mr.SILVER, three high-spirited
and unmarried youths and two charming girls.PICKLOCK HOLES was of
course one of the guests.In fact, it had long since come to be an
understood thing that wherever I went HOLES should accompany me in the
character of a professional detective on the lookout for business;
and JAMES SILVER though he may have at first resented the calm
unmuscularity of my marvellous friend's immovable face would have been
the last man in the world to spoil any chance of sport or excitement
by refraining from offering a cordial invitation to HOLES.The
party was completed by PETER BOWMAN, a lad of eighteen, who to
an extraordinary capacity for mischief, added an imperturbable
cheerfulness of manner.He was generally known as Shock-headed PETER,
in allusion to the brush-like appearance of his delicate auburn hair,
but his intimate friends sometimes addressed him as VENUS, a nickname
which he thoroughly deserved by the almost classic irregularity of his
Saxon features.[Illustration: "Propelled by an athletic young fellow."]We were all sitting, I remember, on the riverbank, watching the
countless craft go past, and enjoying that pleasant industrious
indolence which is one of the chief charms of life on the Thames.A
punt had just skimmed by, propelled by an athletic young fellow in
boating costume."It is strange," he said, "that the man should be still at large.""The young puntsman," said HOLES, with an almost aggravating coolness."He is a bigamist, and has murdered his great aunt.""I know the
lad well, and a better fellow never breathed.""I speak the truth," said HOLES, unemotionally.It
was, therefore, stained by something.It was, therefore,
stained by blood.Now it is well known that the blood of great aunts
is of a lighter shade, and the colour of that tie has a lighter shade.The blood that stained it was, therefore, the blood of his great aunt.Sandra went to the bedroom.As for the bigamy, you will have noticed that as he passed he blew
two rings of cigarette-smoke, and they both floated in the air _at the
same time_.A ring is a symbol of matrimony.He is, therefore, a bigamist."For a moment we were silent, struck with horror at this dreadful, this
convincing revelation of criminal infamy.Then I broke out:
"HOLES," I said, "you deserve the thanks of the whole community.You
will of course communicate with the police.""No," said HOLES, "they are fools, and I do not care to mix myself up
with them.Saying this, he led me to a secluded part of the grounds, and
whispered in my ear."Not a word of what I am about to tell you.There will be a burglary
here to-night.""But, HOLES," |
bathroom | Where is Daniel? | "POTSON, you are amiable, but you will never learn my methods."And
with that enigmatic reply I had to be content in the meantime.The evening had passed as pleasantly as evenings at Umbrosa always
pass.There had been music; the Umbrosa choir, composed of members of
the family and guests, had performed in the drawing-room, and PETER
had drawn tears from the eyes of every one by his touching
rendering of the well-known songs of "_The Dutiful Son_" and "_The
Cartridge-bearer_."Shortly afterwards, the ladies retired to bed,
and the gentlemen, after the customary interval in the smoking-room,
followed.We were in high good-humour, and had made many plans for the
morrow.Once I heard him muttering
to himself, "It's bound to come off properly; never failed yet.They
wired to say they'd be here by the late train.Mary journeyed to the office.I did not venture at the time to ask him the
meaning of these mysterious words.I had been sleeping for about an hour, when I was suddenly awakened
with a start.Daniel journeyed to the bedroom.In the passage outside I heard the voices of the
youngest SILVER boy and of PETER."PETER, old chap," said JOHNNY SILVER, "I believe there's burglars in
the house."Oh, it's no use waking the governor and the mater; we'll do the job
ourselves.Mary went to the bedroom.I told the girls, and they've all locked themselves in and
got under their beds, so they're safe.With that they went along the passage and down the stairs.My mind was
made up, and my trousers and boots were on in less time than it takes
to tell it.I went to HOLES'S room and entered.Sandra went to the bedroom.He was lying on his
bed, fully awake, dressed in his best detective suit, with his fingers
meditatively extended, and touching one another."As I thought," said HOLES, selecting his best basket-hilted
life-preserver from a heap in the middle of the room.No sooner had we reached the landing, however, than the
silence was broken by a series of blood-curdling screams.The screams subsided, and I heard
the voices of my two young friends, evidently in great triumph."Lie still, you brute," said PETER, "or I'll punch your blooming head.Give the rope another twist, JOHNNY.Now you cut and tell
your governor and old HOLES that we've nabbed the beggar."By this time the household was thoroughly roused.Agitated females
and inquisitive males streamed downstairs.Lights were lit, and a
remarkable sight met our eyes.In the middle of the drawing-room lay
an undersized burglar, securely bound, with PETER sitting on his head."JOHNNY and I collared the beggar," said PETER, "and bowled him over.Thanks, I think I could do a ginger-beer."The man was of course tried and convicted, and HOLES, who had
explained how he had been certain that the burglary was contemplated
and had taken his measures accordingly, received the thanks of the
County Council."That fellow," said the great detective to me, "was the best and
cleverest of my tame team of country-house burglars.Through him and
his associates I have fostered and foiled more thefts than I care to
count.POTSON, take my
advice, never attempt a master-stroke in a house full of boys.Had they not interfered I
should have caught the fellow myself.He had wired to tell me where I
should find him."* * * * *
PRECEPT AND PRACTICE.--It's not sufficiently recognised that a Bishop
is bound to side with the masters, as by the terms of his contract he
engages to be "no striker."* * * * *
"HOW TO MAKE ENGLAND SOBER."--"It can't be done," says the Bishop of
CHESTER, "_sans Jayne_."* * * * *
A STRIKING HEADLINE (_all rights reserved_).--Loch Out in
Matabeleland!* * * * *
A JINGO PARADOX.--We pot the natives to preserve ourselves.* * * * *
A MISTY CRYSTAL.DARLINGS, I am growing old,
Silver threads among the gold.Cannot see beyond my nose,
Must have glasses I suppose.At the fair I bought a pair,
Golden rimmed, of pebbles rare,
Paid the money then and there,
Glad my spectacles to wear.John went back to the hallway.I could not see
What was just in front of me!Took them off and rubbed them well;
Cleaned they seemed; but, strange to tell,
When I put them on again
Everything was plain as plain,
But reflected from behind!Then I found that tho' so blind,
Many little things I saw
Which I had not seen before.Daniel went back to the bathroom.First, my page, of doubtful age,
Put me in a dreadful rage;
Dipped his fingers in the cream;
(Turned and faced him--made him scream!)Dropped the pot, upset a lot--
Caught it from me pretty hot.Next the footman kicked my cat
Sleeping on its lamb's-wool mat.Loosed my dicky from its cage
(Shall deduct this from his wage).When the housemaid scrubbed the floor,
Watched her through the open door
At my eldest making eyes.Packed her off to her surprise,
Heeding not her tears and cries.Then I caught my little son
Putting mustard in a bun;
Going to give it to the pug.Seized him by the nearest lug,
Boxed it hard.He howled with pain;
Never teased the dog again.Saw my girl of twenty-three
Kiss the curate, after tea.(Wondered how I found them out!)So, you see, I really find
Much amusement of a kind.Eyes before and eyes behind,
Is there anyone would mind
Being just a little blind?* * * * *
[Illustration: TRUE COMPUNCTION._Young Hopeful_ (_who has been celebrating, not wisely but too well,
the last day of his Exam._).IF _YOU_ DON'T TELL MY
FATHER OF MY D'SGRASHEFUL CONDUCK, _I_ SHALL!"]* * * * *
N.B.[In the "Report of the Royal Commission on Labour" it is said
that "domestic economy is not now practised among the Scotch
peasants with such closeness as formerly; wives have ceased
to use oatmeal and other simple fare, and buy from the passing
cart inferior goods which they could very well prepare at
home."The married labourer's clothing is "finer, but less
durable," and he himself is "less unknown in places of
amusement."]SCOTS, wha hae on parritch fed!Air ye leavin' barley bread,
And frugality?Now's the day, much more the night,
For stickin' to your bawbees tight!See approach proud Fashion's might,
Chains o' luxury!Wha will to the flesher's wend,
Buy thin breeks that will na mend,
Wha sae base as saxpence spend
On an evenin' spree?Wha for Scotland's knitted hose,
Oaten cakes and homespun clo'es,
Now will deal some auld-warld blows?He will live, _not_ dee!By each braw and kilted laddie,
Gudeman douce, and gude-boy caddie,
Ye may weel at once eradi-
-cate frivolity!Strike, and break amusement's yoke,
Or your ainsells may be broke!Siller's saved in every stroke
Of economy!* * * * *
FIRST-RATE FOREIGN ADVERTISEMENT FOR A MEDICAL FRIEND OF OURS.--Every
dinner in France is now served "_a la Roose_."* * * * *
A WALK IN DEVON._Notes from the Travel Diary of Toby, M.P._
_The Cottage, Burrow-in-the-Corner, Devon._
VERY awkward to have missed the Post; being Saturday night means delay
of twenty-four hours."Seed ee two minits ago.Never remember when just too late for last pillar-box
clearance in London suburb running after postman, bringing him back,
and getting him to make special clearance.Old Gentleman evidently
thought nothing of it; skipped out of garden with remarkable agility;
in middle of road in a twinkling; shouting "Hi!and waving green
umbrella wildly over his narrow-brimmed top hat, round which the rime
of age modestly lurked.Postman did not seem at all annoyed; came back
promptly, unlocked box, and trudged off again on his rounds.Way back clear by the road I had
come; inviting lane passed Old Gentleman's house; was there anyway
along it to Burrow-in-the-Corner?"Why, yes," said Old Gentleman,
whose desire to accommodate was illimitable."Follow this lane till
you come to four cross roads, then turn to left, and keep on."Nothing
plainer than this: getting used to four cross roads in these parts;
came upon this particular assortment after quarter of an hour's walk;
a sign-post too; so thoughtful; no difficulty about four cross roads
when there's a sign-post.Walked up to it and round it; not a single
letter remaining intact of the direction.Sign-post older than
Old Gentleman with the umbrella, and not nearly in such state of
preservation.Not a soul in sight; "no footfall breaking silence of
closing day."Old Gentleman said turn to left; so left must be right;
take it, and walk on.Pretty broad highway; must be main road leading somewhere.Why not to
Burrow-in-the-Corner?Quarter mile off come upon bifurcation.Instincts of trapper assert themselves; carefully examine
which way traffic mostly goes; not many cart-ruts, but majority turn
to left; that must be the way to Burrow-in-the-Corner.Take it; find
it a ditch between lofty hedges going up a hill, and then, like the
late Duke of York, going down again.Half a mile of this; then another
bifurcation; a gentle curve, insidious, but unmistakable, one horn of
my dilemma leading to right, the other to left.Take the right this
time, by way of change; leads into a road running at right angles.Do a little of both in succession; can
see nothing of the lay of country, by reason of wall-like hedges;
presently come to gate in field; country chillingly unfamiliar.Situation beginning to grow serious; dusk closing in apace.In spite
of it I see my mistake; took the wrong turning when I examined the
traffic-mark; must turn back there, and peg along the other road;
get into narrow lane again; this time, varying man[oe]uvre of Duke of
York, go down a hill, and then go up again.* * * * *
[Illustration: LIKA JOKO'S JOTTINGS.--No.* * * * *
Trapper instinct, before alluded to, made me note heap of broken
stones at this particular bifurcation.Here it is; no mistake about
that; take other turning, and press on full speed; can't be more
than two miles now; straight road, and there you are.Can do it under
half-an-hour.Nothing so delightful as walk in country lane in cool of
evening.This particular lane rather long; roads and lanes cutting
off to right and left; at least no bifurcation.Not a house in sight;
every soul in the country apparently turned in.Cottar's Saturday
night, of course; should have thought of that before; explains
everything.Apparently no end to this road; suddenly seems to disappear; only a
dip down a hill; think at first, from steepness, it must be road into
Tipperton; but Tipperton is miles away.Getting on for dinner-time;
better run down hill; do so; see light flickering at end; probably
The Cottage windows; hum "A light in the window for me"; find I've no
breath to spare for musical entertainments; shut up, and run.Light
comes from farm-house; enter yard cautiously in case of another dog
being there.In the twilight see second Old Gentleman; this time in
his shirt-sleeves, sitting meditatively on an upturned bucket set on a
barn floor."Is this the way to Burrow-in-the-Corner?"I ask, a little
out of breath.Old Gentleman stares; perhaps he is deaf; looks deaf,
but find he is only chuckling; repeat question louder."No," says he,
"but that be;" and he waves a horny hand up the wall of a hill down
which I had scrambled.For the last twenty minutes I'd been running away from
Burrow-in-the-Corner as if we didn't dine at 7.30.Old Gentleman not accustomed to seeing joke; made most of this; when
he recovered I learned that if I walked back up hill a mile, and
took first turning to right, I should be on the road to
Burrow-in-the-Corner.Nice pull up hill; kept keen look out for
turn to right; after quarter of hour's rapid walking passed on left
openings of two lanes in close contiguity.Through one I had forty
minutes earlier walked on to this very road.If I had then turned to
left instead of going back I should have been at The Cottage by this
time--supposing, of course, the road leads thither.No use repining; must get on; feeling peckish; walk in middle of road
to make most of twilight shut out by hedges; can't see time by watch;
doing something more than four miles an hour.At end of what seems
half-hour am apparently no forrader; no house; no passer-by; no
friendly light over ghostly expanse peeped at through occasional
gates.Begin to think of story heard the other day.Belated parson went to
take evening service for friend at church close by post-office where
I made acquaintance of first Old Gentleman.Only three miles from his
own house; after sermon set off to walk home; thinking of many things,
turned off at wrong point; knew country pretty well, but darkness
came on; hopelessly lost; found forlornly sitting on a gate at eleven
o'clock by farmer's son fortuitously delayed on his return home; took
stranger home with him; woke up family, and gave him shakedown for
night."It was bad enough, TOBY," rev.gentleman said, "and might have been
worse.But what rankles most bitterly in my breast at present day is
remark of farmer |
hallway | Where is John? | No
clergyman would be out at this time of night.'"Mary journeyed to the office.As for the wicked Daemons of the Caves, they were filled with anger
and chagrin when they found that their clever capture of Santa Claus
had come to naught.Indeed, no one on that Christmas Day appeared to
be at all selfish, or envious, or hateful.And, realizing that while
the children's saint had so many powerful friends it was folly to
oppose him, the Daemons never again attempted to interfere with his
journeys on Christmas Eve.A few sets of the whole Eight Volumes are being made up,
price 4l.4s.--For these early application is desirable._
"NOTES AND QUERIES" _is published at noon on Friday, so that the Country
Booksellers may receive Copies in that night's parcels, and deliver them to
their Subscribers on the Saturday_.* * * * *
On the 1st of June, and on the first day of every Month, will be published,
price Sixpence, the
JOURNAL OF PROGRESS:
An Advocate of advanced Views in SOCIAL, MORAL, INDUSTRIAL, AND POLITICAL
ECONOMY; and RECORD OF STATISTICS.This Journal is projected, and will be supported, by persons devoted to the
practical objects which chiefly affect the welfare of society.It will also be sent regularly to every Member of Parliament.Order of all Booksellers and Newsmen.* * * * *
Now ready, crown 8vo.A New Edition, in large type, of
THE SACRED GARLAND,
or,
THE CHRISTIAN'S DAILY DELIGHT.Upwards of 100,000 copies of this book in a smaller form have been sold.MILNER & SOWERBY, Halifax.* * * * *
MESSRS.HAVE JUST PUBLISHED
WHITTY.--THE GOVERNING CLASSES OF GREAT BRITAIN: POLITICAL PORTRAITS.By
EDWARD M. WHITTY.Foolscap 8vo., price 1s.MORELL.--RUSSIA AND ENGLAND, THEIR STRENGTH AND WEAKNESS.By JOHN REYNELL
MORELL.Foolscap 8vo., price 1s.* * * * *
{506}
BOHN'S STANDARD LIBRARY FOR JUNE.Daniel journeyed to the bedroom.COWPER'S COMPLETE WORKS, edited by SOUTHEY; comprising his Poems,
Correspondence, and Translations; with Memoir.Illustrated with Fifty fine
Engravings on Steel, after designs by Harvey.Conclusion of Memoir and Correspondence, with General
Index to same.HENRY G. BOHN, 4, 5, & 6.* * * * *
BOHN'S BRITISH CLASSICS FOR JUNE.DEFOE'S WORKS, edited by SIR WALTER SCOTT.I. Containing the Life,
Adventures, and Piracies of Captain Singleton, and the Life of Colonel
Jack.HENRY G. BOHN, 4, 5, & 6.* * * * *
BOHN'S ILLUSTRATED LIBRARY FOR JUNE.INDIA, PICTORIAL, DESCRIPTIVE, and HISTORICAL, from the Earliest Times to
the Present.Mary went to the bedroom.Illustrated by upwards of One Hundred fine Engravings on Wood,
and Map of Hindoostan.HENRY G. BOHN, 4, 5, & 6.* * * * *
BOHN'S ANTIQUARIAN LIBRARY FOR JUNE.ORDERICUS VITALIS: his Ecclesiastical History of England and Normandy,
translated with Notes and the Introduction of Guizot, by T. FORESTER, M.A.* * * * *
BOHN'S PHILOLOGICAL LIBRARY FOR JUNE.LOGIC, OR THE SCIENCE OF INFERENCE, a popular Manual, by J. DEVEY.Sandra went to the bedroom.HENRY G. BOHN, 4, 5, & 6.* * * * *
BOHN'S CLASSICAL LIBRARY FOR JUNE.THE ELEGIES OF PROPERTIUS, the Satyricon of Petronius Arbiter, and the
KISSES of JOHANNES SECUNDUS, literally translated, and accompanied by
Poetical Versions, from various sources: to which are added, the LOVE
EPISTLES OF ARISTAENETUS, translated by R. BRINSLEY SHERIDAN and H. HALHED.Edited by WALTER K. KELLY.HENRY G. BOHN, 4, 5, & 6.* * * * *
NORWAY.A Road Book for Tourists in Norway, with Hints to English Sportsmen
and Anglers, by THOMAS FORESTER, Esq.HENRY G. BOHN, 4, 5, & 6.* * * * *
W. S. LINCOLN & SON, Caxton House, Blackfriars Road, London (removed from
Westminster Road), will forward Gratis and Post Free to all Applicants,
their June Catalogue of Cheap English and Foreign second-hand Books.* * * * *
Just published, with ten Engravings, price 5s.NOTES ON AQUATIC MICROSCOPIC SUBJECTS OF NATURAL HISTORY, selected from the
"Microscopic Cabinet."John went back to the hallway.By ANDREW PRITCHARD, M.R.I.720, plates 24, price 21s., or, 36s.,
A HISTORY OF INFUSORIAL ANIMALCULES, Living and Fossil, containing
Descriptions of every species, British and Foreign, the methods of
procuring and viewing them, &c., illustrated by numerous Engravings.By
ANDREW PRITCHARD, M.R.I."There is no work extant in which so much valuable information
concerning Infusoria (Animalcules) can be found, and every Microscopist
should add it to his library."--_Silliman's Journal._
London: WHITTAKER & CO., Ave Maria Lane.* * * * *
W. H. HART, RECORD AGENT and LEGAL ANTIQUARIAN (who is in the possession of
Indices to many of the early Public Records whereby his Inquiries are
greatly facilitated) begs to inform Authors and Gentlemen engaged in
Antiquarian or Literary Pursuits, that he is prepared to undertake searches
among the Public Records, MSS.in the British Museum, Ancient Wills, or
other Depositories of a similar Nature, in any Branch of Literature,
History, Topography, Genealogy, or the like, and in which he has had
considerable experience.ALBERT TERRACE, NEW CROSS, HATCHAM, SURREY.* * * * *
DR.DE JONGH'S LIGHT BROWN COD LIVER OIL.Prepared for medicinal use in the
Loffoden Isles, Norway, and put to the test of chemical analysis.Daniel went back to the bathroom.The most
effectual remedy for Consumption, Asthma, Gout, Chronic Rheumatism, and all
Scrofulous Diseases.Approved of and recommended by BERZELIUS, LIEBIG, WOEHLER, JONATHAN
PEREIRA, FOUQUIER, and numerous other eminent medical men and scientific
chemists in Europe.Specially rewarded with medals by the Governments of
Belgium and the Netherlands.Has almost entirely superseded all other kinds
on the Continent, in consequence of its proved superior power and
efficacy--effecting a cure much more rapidly.Contains iodine, phosphate of
chalk, volatile acid, and the elements of the bile--in short, all its most
active and essential principles--in larger quantities than the pale oils
made in England and Newfoundland, deprived mainly of these by their mode of
preparation.de Jongh, with detailed remarks upon its
superiority, directions for use, cases in which it has been prescribed with
the greatest success, and testimonials, forwarded gratis on application.The subjoined testimonial of BARON LIEBIG, Professor of Chemistry at the
University of Giessen, is selected from innumerable others from medical and
scientific men of the highest distinction:
"SIR,--I have the honour of addressing you my warmest thanks for your
attention in forwarding me your work on the chemical composition and
properties, as well as on the medicinal effects, of various kinds of
Cod Liver Oil."You have rendered an essential service to science by your researches,
and your efforts to provide sufferers with this Medicine in its purest
and most genuine state, must ensure you the gratitude of every one who
stands in need of its use."I have the honor of remaining, with expressions of the highest regard
and esteem,
"Yours sincerely,
"DR.Mary travelled to the garden.Sold Wholesale and Retail, in bottles, labelled with Dr.de Jongh's Stamp
and Signature, by ANSAR, HARFORD, & CO., 77.Strand, Sole Consignees and
Agents for the United Kingdom and British Possessions; and by all
respectable Chemists and Venders of Medicine in Town and Country, at the
following prices:--Imperial Measure, Half-pints, 2s.* * * * *
On 1st June will be published, Part I., price 4s.MISCELLANEA GRAPHICA: a Collection of Ancient Mediaeval and Renaissance
Remains, in the possession of the LORD LONDESBOROUGH.Illustrated by F. W.
FAIRHOLT, F.S.A., &c.
The Work will be published in Nine Quarterly Parts, of royal 4to.size,
each Part containing Four Plates, One of which will be in
Chromo-lithography, representing Jewellery, Antique Plate, Arms, and
Armour, and Miscellaneous Antiquities.London: CHAPMAN & HALL, 193.* * * * *
Just published, in 4 vols.ORIGINES KALENDARIAE ITALICAE; Nundinal Calendars of Ancient Italy;
Nundinal Calendar of Romulus; Calendar of Numa Pompilius; Calendar of the
Decemvirs; Irregular Roman Calendar, and Julian Correction.TABLES OF THE
ROMAN CALENDAR, from U.C.B.D., Fellow of Corpus Christi College, Oxford.Sold by JOHN HENRY PARKER, Oxford, and 377.Strand, London; and GARDNER, 7.* * * * *
Just published, 8vo., price 2s.PRELIMINARY ADDRESS of the ORIGINES KALENDARIAE ITALICAE, lately published
at the OXFORD UNIVERSITY PRESS.By EDWARD
GRESWELL, B.D., Fellow of Corpus Christi College, Oxford.JOHN HENRY PARKER, Oxford; and 377.* * * * *
Just published, 8vo., price 10s.THEODORETI Episcopi Cyri Ecclesiasticae Historiae Libri Quinque cum
Interpretatione Latina et Annotationibus Henrici Valesii.Recensuit THOMAS
GAISFORD, S. T. P., Aedis Christi Decanus necnon Linguae Graecae Professor
Regius.Oxonii: E TYPOGRAPHEO ACADEMICO.Sold by JOHN HENRY PARKER, Oxford, and 377.Strand, London; and GARDNER, 7.* * * * *
Just published, 8vo., price 5s.By Edmund Gibson, D.D., afterwards Bishop of London.Edited by EDWARD CARDWELL, D.D., Principal of St.Sold by JOHN HENRY PARKER, Oxford, and 337.Strand, London; and GARDNER, 7.* * * * *
ALLEN'S ILLUSTRATED CATALOGUE, containing Size, Price, and Description of
upwards of 100 articles consisting of PORTMANTEAUS, TRAVELLING-BAGS,
Ladies' Portmanteaus, DESPATCH BOXES, WRITING-DESKS, DRESSING-CASES, and
other travellers' requisites, Gratis on application, or sent free by Post
on receipt of Two Stamps.ALLEN'S registered Despatch-box and Writing-desk, their
Travelling-bag with the opening as large as the bag, and the new
Portmanteau containing four compartments, are undoubtedly the best articles
of the kind ever produced.* * * * *
{507}
COLLODION PORTRAITS AND VIEWS obtained with the greatest ease and certainty
by using BLAND & LONG'S preparation of Soluble Cotton; certainty and
uniformity of action over a lengthened period, combined with the most
faithful rendering of the half-tones, constitute this a most valuable agent
in the hands of the photographer.Albumenized paper, for printing from glass or paper negatives, giving a
minuteness of detail unattained by any other method, 5s.Waxed and Iodized Papers of tried quality.BLAND & LONG, Opticians and Photographical Instrument Makers, and Operative
Chemists, 153.Daniel moved to the hallway.* * * * *
THE SIGHT preserved by the Use of SPECTACLES adapted to suit every variety
of Vision by means of SMEE'S OPTOMETER, which effectually prevents Injury
to the Eyes from the Selection of Improper Glasses, and is extensively
employed by
BLAND & LONG, Opticians, 153.* * * * *
PHOTOGRAPHY.--HORNE & CO.'S Iodized Collodion, for obtaining Instantaneous
Views, and Portraits in from three to thirty seconds, according to light.Portraits obtained by the above, for delicacy of |
office | Where is Sandra? | Also every description of Apparatus, Chemicals, &c.&c. used in this
beautiful Art.--123.* * * * *
IMPROVEMENT IN COLLODION.--J.B. HOCKIN & CO., Chemists, 289.Strand, have,
by an improved mode of Iodizing, succeeded in producing a Collodion equal,
they may say superior, in sensitiveness and density of Negative, to any
other hitherto published; without diminishing the keeping properties and
appreciation of half-tint for which their manufacture has been esteemed.Apparatus, pure Chemicals, and all the requirements for the practice of
Photography.THE COLLODION AND POSITIVE PAPER PROCESS.Price 1s., per
Post, 1s.* * * * *
PHOTOGRAPHIC CAMERAS.OTTEWILL AND MORGAN'S
Manufactory, 24.Charlotte Terrace, Caledonian Road, Islington.OTTEWILL'S Registered Double Body Folding Camera, adapted for Landscapes or
Portraits, may be had of A. ROSS, Featherstone Buildings, Holborn; the
Photographic Institution, Bond Street; and at the Manufactory as above,
where every description of Cameras, Slides, and Tripods may be had.* * * * *
PHOTOGRAPHIC APPARATUS, MATERIALS, and PURE CHEMICAL PREPARATIONS.KNIGHT & SONS' Illustrated Catalogue, containing Description and Price of
the best forms of Cameras and other Apparatus.Voightlander and Son's
Lenses for Portraits and Views, together with the various Materials, and
pure Chemical Preparations required in practising the Photographic Art.Forwarded free on receipt of Six Postage Stamps.Instructions given in every branch of the Art.An extensive Collection of Stereoscopic and other Photographic Specimens.GEORGE KNIGHT & SONS, Foster Lane, London.* * * * *
Important Sale by Auction of the whole of the remaining Copies of that
splendid National Work, known as "FINDEN'S ROYAL GALLERY OF BRITISH
ART," the engraved Plates of which will be destroyed during the
Progress of the Sale, and in the presence of the Purchasers.SOUTHGATE & BARRETT have received instructions from MR.HOGARTH, of the
Haymarket, to Sell by Public Auction at their Fine Art and Book Auction
Rooms, 22.Fleet Street, London, on Wednesday Evening, June 7th, and
following Evenings,
THE WHOLE OF THE REMAINING COPIES
Of the very Celebrated Work, known as
FINDEN'S ROYAL GALLERY OF BRITISH ART,
Consisting of a limited number of Artists' and other choice proofs, and the
print impressions, which are all in an exceedingly fine state.The work
consists of 48 plates, the whole of which are engraved in line by the most
eminent men in that branch of art, and the pictures selected will at once
show that the great artists--Turner, Eastlake, Landseer, Stanfield,
Webster, Roberts, Wilkie, Maclise, Mulready, and more than thirty other
British Masters, are represented by the works which established and upheld
them in public favour, and by themes which appeal to universal sympathy and
happiest affections, or which delineate the peculiar glories of our
country, and commemorate its worthiest and most honourable achievements.The attention of the public is also particularly directed to the fact that
ALL THE ENGRAVED PLATES from which the impressions now offered have been
taken, WILL BE DESTROYED IN THE PRESENCE OF THE PURCHASERS, at the time of
Sale.By thus securing the market from being supplied with inferior
impressions at a future time, and at a cheaper rate, the value of the
existing stock will be increased, and it will become the interest of all
who wish to possess copies of these eminent works of art, at a reduced
price, to purchase them at this Sale, which will be THE ONLY OPPORTUNITY of
obtaining them.Under these circumstances, therefore, SOUTHGATE & BARRETT presume to demand
for this Sale the attention of all lovers of art--the amateur, the artist,
and the public:--believing that no opportunity has ever offered so happily
calculated to promote taste and to extend knowledge, while ministering to
the purest and best enjoyments which the artist conveys to the hearts and
homes of all who covet intellectual pleasures.Framed Copies of the work can be seen at MR.LLOYD, BROTHERS, & CO., 22.Ludgate Hill; and at the AUCTIONEERS,
22.Fleet Street, by whom all Communications and Commissions will be
promptly and faithfully attended to.*** Catalogues of the entire Sale will be forwarded on Receipt of 12
Postage Stamps.* * * * *
Sale by Auction of the Stocks of extremely Valuable Modern Engravings,
the engraved Plates of which will be destroyed in the presence of the
Purchasers at the Time of Sale.SOUTHGATE & BARRETT beg to announce that they will include in their Sale by
Auction of "FINDEN'S ROYAL GALLERY," and other Valuable Works of Art of a
similar character, to take place at their Fine Art and Book Auction Rooms,
22.Fleet Street, London, on Wednesday Evening, June 7th, and Seventeen
following Evenings (Saturdays and Sundays excepted), the whole of the
STOCKS OF PROOFS AND PRINTS of the following HIGHLY IMPORTANT ENGRAVINGS,
published by MR."Ehrenbreitstein," painted by J. M. W. Turner, R. A., engraved by John
Pye."Ecce <DW25>," from the picture by Correggio, engraved by G. T. Doo.Mary journeyed to the office."The Dame School," painted by T. Webster, R. A., engraved by L. Stocks."Eton Montem," two views illustrative of, from pictures by Evans of
Eton, engraved by Charles Lewis.Elizabeth Fry,"
engraved by Samuel Cousins, A.R.A., from a picture by George Richmond."Portraits of eminent Persons," by George Richmond and C. Baugniet."Portrait of W. C. Macready, Esq., as Werner," painted by D. Maclise,
R. A., engraved by Sharpe.Flowers of German Art, a series of 20 plates
by the most eminent engravers.Cranstone's Fugitive Etchings, 17
plates.Turner and Girtin's River Scenery, 30 plates."Cottage Piety,"
painted by Thomas Faed, engraved by Henry Lemon (unpublished).Daniel journeyed to the bedroom."See
Saw," painted by T. Webster, R. A., engraved by Holl (unpublished)."Village Pastor," painted by W. P. Frith, R. A., engraved by Holl."The
Immaculate Conception," painted by Guido, engraved in line by W. H.
Watt.Mary went to the bedroom."Harvey demonstrating to Charles the First his Theory of the
Circulation of the Blood," painted by Hannah, engraved by Lemon."The
Origin of Music," painted by Selous, engraved by Wass."The First
Step," painted by Faed, engraved by Sharpe."The Prize Cartoons,"
published by Messrs.And numerous other highly
interesting and valuable works of Art.ALL THE ENGRAVED PLATES of the above-mentioned engravings WILL BE DESTROYED
in the presence of the purchasers at the time of sale, which will thereby
secure to the purchasers the same advantages as are mentioned in the
advertisement given above, of the sale of the remaining copies of "Finden's
Royal Gallery."Sandra went to the bedroom.Framed Impressions of each of the plates can be seen at MR.LLOYD, BROTHERS, & CO., 22.Ludgate Hill; and at the
AUCTIONEERS, 22.Fleet Street, by whom all communications and commissions
will be promptly and faithfully attended to.John went back to the hallway.*** Catalogues of the entire sale will be forwarded on receipt of 12
Postage Stamps.* * * * *
The very extensive, highly important, and extremely choice Stock of
MODERN ENGLISH AND FOREIGN ENGRAVINGS, WATER-COLOUR DRAWINGS, and
expensive Books of Prints, of MR.SOUTHGATE & BARRETT will Sell by Auction at their Fine Art and Book Auction
Rooms, 22.Fleet Street, on Wednesday Evening, June 7th, and Seventeen
following Evenings (Saturdays and Sundays excepted), in the same sale as
the "FINDEN'S ROYAL GALLERY OF BRITISH ART," this extremely valuable and
highly interesting Stock.Amongst the ENGRAVINGS will be found in the BEST
STATES OF ARTISTS' and other CHOICE PROOFS, nearly all the popular plates
that have been published during the last quarter of a century; also an
Important Collection of Foreign Line Engravings in the best states; a large
variety of Portraits and other subjects after Sir Joshua Reynolds, some
very rare; an extensive series of prints by Hogarth, in early proofs, and
with curious variations; a most complete series of artists' proofs of the
works of George Cruikshank, including nearly all his early productions,
many unique; a number of scarce Old Prints, and a series in fine states by
Sir Robert Strange.The Stock is peculiarly rich in the works of J. M. W.
Turner, R. A., and comprises artists' proofs and the choicest states of all
his important productions, and matchless copies of the England and Wales
and Southern Coast.The Collection of HIGH-CLASS WATER-COLOUR DRAWINGS
consists of examples of the most eminent artists (particularly some
magnificent specimens by J. M. W. Turner), as well as a great variety of
the early English School, and some by the Ancient Masters; also a most
interesting Collection by Members of the Sketching Society.Of the Modern
School are examples by--
Absolon | Lewis, J.
Austin | Liverseege
Barrett | Maclise
Cattermole | Muller
Collins | Nesfield
Fielding, C.| Prout
Holland | Tayler, F.
Hunt | Uwins
Landseer, E.| Webster
Leslie | Wilkie
Catalogues of the entire Sale will be forwarded on receipt of 12 postage
stamps, and all communications and commissions promptly and faithfully
attended to.* * * * *
{508}
WESTERN LIFE ASSURANCE AND ANNUITY SOCIETY.PARLIAMENT STREET, LONDON._Directors._
H. E. Bicknell, Esq.| T. Grissell, Esq.| J. A. Lethbridge, Esq.| J. Lys Seager, Esq.| J. B. White, Esq.J. H. Goodhart, Esq._Trustees._--W. Whateley, Esq., Q.C.; George Drew, Esq., T. Grissell,
Esq.Cocks, Biddulph, and Co., Charing Cross.POLICIES effected in this Office do not become void through temporary
difficulty in paying a Premium, as permission is given upon application to
suspend the payment at interest, according to the conditions detailed in
the Prospectus.Specimens of Rates of Premium for Assuring 100l., with a Share in
three-fourths of the Profits:--
Age L s. d.Daniel went back to the bathroom.| Age L s. d.17 1 14 4 | 32 2 10 8
22 1 18 8 | 37 2 18 6
27 2 4 5 | 42 3 8 2
ARTHUR SCRATCHLEY, M.A., F.R.A.S., Actuary.6d., Second Edition, with material additions,
INDUSTRIAL INVESTMENT and EMIGRATION: being a TREATISE ON BENEFIT BUILDING
SOCIETIES, and on the General Principles of Land Investment, exemplified in
the Cases of Freehold Land Societies, Building Companies, &c. With a
Mathematical Appendix on Compound Interest and Life Assurance.By ARTHUR
SCRATCHLEY, M.A., Actuary to the Western Life Assurance Society, 3.* * * * *
BANK OF DEPOSIT.Martin's Place,
Trafalgar Square, London.INVESTMENT ACCOUNTS may be opened daily, with capital of any amount.Prospectuses and Forms sent free on application.* * * * *
BENNETT'S MODEL WATCH, as shown at the GREAT EXHIBITION, No.Class X.,
in Gold and Silver Cases, in five qualities, and adapted to all Climates,
may now be had at the MANUFACTORY, 65.Superior Gold London-made
Patent Levers, 17, 15 and 12 guineas.Ditto, in Silver Cases, 8, 6, and 4
guineas.First-rate Geneva Levers, in Gold Cases, 12, 10, and 8 guineas.Ditto, in Silver Cases, 8, 6, and 5 guineas.Mary travelled to the garden.Superior Lever, with
Chronometer Balance, Gold, 27, 23, and 19 guineas.Daniel moved to the hallway.Bennett's Pocket
Chronometer, Gold, 50 guineas; Silver, 40 guineas.Every Watch skilfully
examined, timed, and its performance guaranteed.Barometers, 2l., 3l., and
4l.Watch, Clock and Instrument Maker to the Royal Observatory, the
Board of Ordnance, the Admiralty, and the Queen,
65.* * * * *
CHUBB'S LOCKS, with all the recent improvements.Strong fire-proof safes,
cash and deed boxes.Complete lists of sizes and prices may be had on
application.Lord Street,
Liverpool; 16.Sandra travelled to the office.Daniel moved to the bathroom.Market Street, Manchester; and Horseley Fields,
Wolverhampton.* * * * *
PIANOFORTES, 25 Guineas each.--D'ALMAINE & CO., 20.Soho Square
(established A.D.1785), sole manufacturers of the ROYAL PIANOFORTES, at |
kitchen | Where is Mary? | The peculiar advantages of these
pianofortes arec best described in the following professional testimonial,
signed by the majority of the leading musicians of the age:--"We, the
undersigned members of the musical profession, having carefully examined
the Royal Pianofortes manufactured by MESSRS.D'ALMAINE & CO., have great
pleasure in bearing testimony to their merits and capabilities.It appears
to us impossible to produce instruments of the same size possessing a
richer and finer tone, more elastic touch, or more equal temperament, while
the elegance of their construction renders them a handsome ornament for the
library, boudoir, or drawing-room.(Signed) J. L. Abel, F. Benedict, H. R.
Bishop, J. Blewitt, J. Brizzi, T. P. Chipp, P. Delavanti, C. H. Dolby,
E. F. Fitzwilliam, W. Forde, Stephen Glover, Henri Herz, E. Harrison, H. F.
Hasse, J. L. Hatton, Catherine Hayes, W. H. Holmes, W. Kuhe, G. F.
Kiallmark, E. Land, G. Lanza, Alexander Lee, A. Leffler, E. J. Loder, W. H.
Montgomery, S. Nelson, G. A. Osborne, John Parry, H. Panofka, Henry
Phillips, F. Praegar, E. F. Rimbault, Frank Romer, G. H. Rodwell, E.
Rockel, Sims Reeves, J. Templeton, F. Weber, H. Westrop, T. H. Wright," &c.
D'ALMAINE & CO., 20.* * * * *
Patronised by the Royal Family.TWO THOUSAND POUNDS for any person producing Articles superior to the
following:
THE HAIR RESTORED AND GREYNESS PREVENTED.BEETHAM'S CAPILLARY FLUID is acknowledged to be the most effectual article
for Restoring the Hair in Baldness, strengthening when weak and fine,
effectually preventing falling or turning grey, and for restoring its
natural colour without the use of dye.The rich glossy appearance it
imparts is the admiration of every person.SUPERFLUOUS HAIR REMOVED.BEETHAM'S VEGETABLE EXTRACT does not cause pain or injury to the skin.Its
effect is unerring, and it is now patronised by royalty and hundreds of the
first families.BEETHAM'S PLASTER is the only effectual remover of Corns and Bunions.It
also reduces enlarged Great Toe Joints in an astonishing manner.If space
allowed, the testimony of upwards of twelve thousand individuals, during
the last five years, might be inserted.Sent
Free by BEETHAM, Chemist, Cheltenham, for 14 or 36 Post Stamps.Westmorland Street; JACKSON, 9.Westland Row; BEWLEY
& EVANS, Dublin; GOULDING, 108.Patrick Street, Cork; BARRY, 9.Main
Street, Kinsale; GRATTAN, Belfast; MURDOCK, BROTHERS, Glasgow; DUNCAN &
FLOCKHART, Edinburgh.Strand;
KEATING, St.Paul's Churchyard; SAVORY & MOORE, Bond Street; HANNAY,
63.All Chemists and Perfumers will procure
them.* * * * *
PHOTOGRAPHIC INSTITUTION.THE EXHIBITION OF PHOTOGRAPHS, by the most eminent English and Continental
Artists, is OPEN DAILY from Ten till Five.L s. d.
A Portrait by Mr.Talbot's Patent
Process 1 1 0
Additional Copies (each) 0 5 0
A Portrait, highly finished
(small size) 3 3 0
A Portrait, highly finished
(larger size) 5 5 0
Miniatures, Oil Paintings, Water-Colour, and Chalk Drawings, Photographed
and in imitation of the Originals.Views of Country Mansions,
Churches, &c., taken at a short notice.Cameras, Lenses, and all the necessary Photographic Apparatus and
Chemicals, are supplied, tested, and guaranteed.Gratuitous Instruction is given to Purchasers of Sets of Apparatus.PHOTOGRAPHIC INSTITUTION,
168.* * * * *
ROSS & SONS' INSTANTANEOUS HAIR DYE, without Smell, the best and cheapest
extant.--ROSS & SONS have several private apartments devoted entirely to
Dyeing the Hair, and particularly request a visit, especially from the
incredulous, as they will undertake to dye a portion of their hair, without
charging, of any colour required, from the lightest brown to the darkest
black, to convince them of its effect.6d., 12s., 15s., and 20s.Likewise
wholesale to the Trade by the pint, quart, or gallon.Address, ROSS & SONS, 119. and 120.Bishopsgate Street, Six Doors from
Cornhill, London.* * * * *
HEAL & SON'S SPRING MATTRESSES.--The most durable Bedding is a well-made
SPRING MATTRESS; it retains its elasticity, and will wear longer without
repair than any other mattress, and with _one_ French Wool and Hair
Mattress on it is a most luxurious Bed.HEAL & SON make them in three
varieties.For prices of the different sizes and qualities, apply for HEAL
& SON'S ILLUSTRATED CATALOGUE OF BEDSTEADS, and priced LIST OF BEDDING.It
contains designs and prices of upwards of 100 Bedsteads, and prices of
every description of Bedding, and is sent free by Post.Mary moved to the kitchen.* * * * *
ALLSOPP'S PALE or BITTER ALE.--MESSERS.S. ALLSOPP & SONS beg to inform the
TRADE that they are now registering Orders for the March Brewings of their
PALE ALE in Casks of 18 Gallons and upwards, at the BREWERY,
Burton-on-Trent; and at the under-mentioned Branch Establishments:
LONDON, at 61.MANCHESTER, at Ducie Place.DUDLEY, at the Burnt Tree.SOUTH WALES, at 13.ALLSOPP & SONS take the opportunity of announcing to PRIVATE
FAMILIES that the ALES, so strongly recommended by the Medical Profession,
may be procured in DRAUGHT and BOTTLES GENUINE from all the most
RESPECTABLE LICENSED VICTUALLERS, on "ALLSOPP'S PALE ALE" being specially
asked for.When in bottle the genuineness of the label can be ascertained by its
having "ALLSOPP & SONS" written across it.* * * * *
Printed by THOMAS CLARK SHAW, No.Stonefield Street, in the Parish of
St.New Street Square, in the Parish of St.Bride, in the City of London; and published by GEORGE BELL, of No.Fleet Street, in the Parish of St.Dunstan in the West, in the City of
London, Publisher at No.186 Fleet Street aforesaid.--Saturday, May 27,
1854.* * * * *
Corrections made to printed original.page 492, article Numbers, "and so on": 'and so one' in original.page 496, article Athens, "some verses recorded by Plutarch":'versus' in
original.You have sold a monopoly to
Benniger, Mr._Reiss._ One of our citizens has lodged a complaint about it against
you._Clar._ Jack, return the wages of sin!Coun._ Immediately, and--
_Reiss._ Of course, and--
_Clar._ And then it is all over; for I must tell you, he will not fill
the office of a Privy Counsellor any longer.Coun._ Yes, Sir, I intend to give in my resignation this very day._Reiss._ Well, well; but your responsibility for the performance of
your duty hitherto, and the unconscientious--
_Soph._ Dear father!_Clar._ I hope, you will not make that an object of minute enquiry?_Reiss._ That depends on the nature of the remaining charges.A
resignation cannot undo what is done.Coun._ In virtue of your promise, you are my father-in-law; if you
wish to be my enemy in earnest, you may abide by the consequence.Whatever I could do and urge against you, Sophia has my word for it, I
will do nothing._Reiss._ By no means, never!_Soph._ I am his bride, father; you gave your word._Reiss._ Before he was impeached._Fred._ Sir--
_Gern._ (passionately.)or I will run and fetch all the children of Brunnig,
that have been robbed by you; their words, their tears, and their
curses, shall impeach you before God and man.You accuse others, who
are angels of light compared with you._Reiss._ Without office, without bread, without honour?_Soph._ Without office, without bread, but who says without honour?_Reiss._ I, I, I!Coun._ Patience, father!--Withdraw; your daughter stays with my
father._Reiss._ If she chooses to be disinherited._Soph._ Be it, in the name of God!_Reiss._ I will shew her who is the man for whom she sacrifices her
inheritance.Coun._ Then I will inform the world who has made such a man of me;
whose contrivance it is, if ever I acted contrary to those principles
of honesty this worthy citizen had taught me._Soph._ Clarenbach, he is my father!--Clarenbach, where do I stand now?Coun._ Would you forsake me, helpless, on the brink of the
precipice from which you were just about to snatch me?Do you value my
soul less than my honour?You have my word; I will
not break it._Reiss._ His disgrace shall break it, and distress punish it; you shall
never see my face again._Soph._ Father!--
_Clar._ Here is one that has a heart for the distressed children!Coun._ My resignation was to be spontaneous; it is now forced and
attended with disgrace._Soph._ My heart is Clarenbach's, whether he be fortunate or
unfortunate.Coun._ He will ruin me, and endeavour to dissolve our mutual tie._Clar._ But I and old Wellenberg say, he shall not; between us two old
boys we will sing him such a song, as will make him wish he were under
earth or water.Let me alone; your happiness is at stake._Soph._ He is my father,--he is old; for his daughter's sake do not
disgrace him.I will ring the bell of disgrace over him, so as to make the whole
country resound._Soph._ On that condition I cannot be your wife._Soph._ In this case, the voice of nature should over-rule that of
love!If he is to be ruined, were it to break my heart and cost me my
life, it is my duty to perish by his side.(Disengages herself, and
exit.)you, that, though poor and low, have
remained faithful to your duty; I apply to that heart which my power
has tortured, and seek for consolation._Gern._ I sympathize in your sufferings; let me go and get information,
and act for you.If I should fall, I ought to rise by myself, and if I
cannot bring that about, I ought to perish in the dark, unpitied by
man.ACT V.
SCENE I.
Enter Aulic Counsellor REISSMAN, bringing in two bottles of wine, which
he puts on the table._Reiss._ The doctor is dead,--good night to him!The lawyer will soon
follow; he is an old man!Old people are subject to many accidents;
death has them constantly at his nod, such is the course of nature!_Sell._ Oh, dear Sir, what shall we do now?I have read that Benniger
such a lecture, and taken the money _ad depositum_.He says, it is a bargain; that
the receiver is the thief, and not the bidder.He insists on having the
patent for the monopoly dispatched; if not, he swears he will play the
deuce._Reiss._ So much the better; let him do his best._Sell._ Ah, but, dear Sir, he does not say a word against the Privy
Counsellor; you and I are the scape-goats; every nerve trembles._Reiss._ So you are quite alarmed?_Reiss._ The rogue intended to bribe, and of course is liable to a
heavy punishment._Sell._ But then he is a stranger._Reiss._ Have him arrested, then he can do no harm._Sell._ But he can talk a good deal for all that._Sell._ But the Prime Minister--
_Reiss._ Is at a great distance, and do not you know, though I do not
publicly affect it, that I am the prime minister of this country.But then I have--
_Reiss._ What else?_Sell._ A concern, that lies very near my heart.I am told the Privy
Counsellor is to resign,--and perhaps to leave this town.I could not
help making his sister considerable presents this morning, which cost a
great deal of money; and, if his power should be at an end, all would
be thrown away; he ought to reimburse me._Reiss._ But those presents have been returned, I understand.I must lose
by those things, if I were to dispose of them.Could not you manage so
by your authority, that he should take them at prime cost?_Reiss._ No, I employ my authority to better purposes.the gown of rose satin alone cost me--
_Reiss._ (displeased.)Let it be converted into a morning-gown for
yourself._Sell._ A morning-gown!--Ay, that will do._Reiss._ And have the fellow secured.the morning-gown made up, and the fellow arrested!I
thank you for extricating me out of this embarrassment._Reiss._ Blockhead!--My whole existence is at stake;--once won, won for
ever!_Soph._ Father, I beg--
_Reiss._ Yes, you will soon beg.--Begone, be gone!_Soph._ Your situation is dreadful, as dreadful as mine._Reiss._ Be gone to the Carpenter.Out of my sight, be gone, I say!_Soph._ I am come,--I cannot leave you till your mind is at ease.Sandra moved to the kitchen._Reiss._ I shall be at ease as soon as you depart, the spy of my
actions._Reiss._ Begone, I tell you; begone, or I will have thee driven out of |
kitchen | Where is Sandra? | Out of my sight, snake, serpent, traitor, spy, begone!_Soph._ I have ever obeyed you, and I will even obey this cruel
command._Well._ You have sent for me;--here I am._Reiss._ I thank you;--sit down._Reiss._ I want to have a little conversation in a fair way._Well._ Propose fair things, and our conversation shall be fair._Reiss._ Well, Doctor Kannenfeld is no more._Well._ It has pleased the Disposer of all Events to call him.That slanderer, I would--
_Well._ Not so.Slanderer, not so,--a true penitent, a sinner, and of
course one that has found mercy in the Divine Presence.He is dead as
to his earthly frame, but the tears of repentance which he so often
shed on my breast, I trust, will raise up fruits of joy and consolation
in it: With respect to you, he is not dead as long as I live.To the
point then;--in the name of heaven, what do you want?_Reiss._ To offer a few propositions._Reiss._ Sit down here, if you please.--(Wellenberg sits down at the
table.)--Our good ancient German ancestors used always to drink a glass
when they sat down on some good purpose, or when they had a mind to lay
down some good rules for their descendents._Well._ Ay, if there were any such good purposes in the present case, I
would have no objection._Reiss._ Drink to a good intention, (raising the glass,) dear Mr._Well._ When the good shall be atchieved, we will take a little wine; a
very little, as an offering to gratitude._Reiss._ Wine cheers the heart of man._Well._ Good actions will cheer it much better._Reiss._ I am now possessed of the legacy,--you see._Reiss._ Very well, I thank you.In the name of goodness.--
_Reiss._ I have resolved to do something for all that for the children,
for whom I am very sorry.You must do every thing for the sake of the
children and your own soul._Reiss._ What do you mean by that?_Well._ You must give up the whole._Reiss._ You are not in earnest?_Well._ Do you never expect to be called to an account for your actions
in this world?_Reiss._ The doctor's insanity has infected you._Well._ But the solemn oath, which I mean to have administered to you
in a public court of justice, will open doors that you little expect.for--for--I am seized with a tremor at the mere idea that
an oath does not shake your frame to its centre.What, will you stretch
out your hand against the judgments of God?Methinks I see the very
sparks of hell before my eyes; methinks I see an infernal fiend between
you and me, writhing, hissing, and sneering; methinks I see him anxious
to seize on your poor soul, as his prey for ever.I am ill; do good for
once, and permit me to go home and throw myself on my bed._Reiss._ But, as the advocate of the children, you ought to hear my
proposition._Well._ Then propose, briefly and fairly._Well._ I must sit down; for the idea of your perjury has enfeebled me
so, that I cannot move.Propose to the honour of your
Creator and the salvation of your soul, that I may recover my strength._Reiss._ Not as an obligation, but, through mere motives of pity and
christian charity, I will give the children half of the legacy._Well._ Half a virtue is no virtue at all; yet it is better than vice._Well._ The fiend may yet lose his hold.Mary moved to the kitchen._Well._ I almost stand in want of it, for I do not feel well on your
account.I have, in the warmth of conversation, left
the bottle uncorked, and the spirit of the liquor, intended to honour
you, will evaporate.No matter; (takes the bottle to himself, and
substitutes the other, out of which he immediately fills him a glass,)
here is fresh wine._Well._ (puts down the glass.)_Reiss._ But, when we have done and agreed, in token of
reconciliation--
_Well._ My first and last words are, give up the whole of the bequest,
or take the oath!what is all that!--(Fills a glass for himself out of the
bottle which he had removed from Wellenberg's side.)Good
inclinations ought to come from the heart instead of the bottle._Reiss._ Shall I tell you what carries me so far?It is your
honest character, and my respect for you; and, as my daughter is a
good-for-nothing hussy, I will, in the name of God, provided they let
me alone while I live, I will, after my death, bequeath the remainder
of the bequest to the children by a formal testament, which I wish you
to draw up immediately.That is, upon my word, more than fair!Come,
touch glasses upon that, and then we have done.(Touches glasses with
him, and drinks it off.)_Well._ (touches glasses, but does not drink.)_Well._ (holds up his glass, but does not drink.)The good spirit
begins to move you; and I begin to feel better in your company._Reiss._ (wipes his forehead.)I wish you would examine your conscience fully, and
then wipe your eyes too; then I would, in the joy of my heart, empty my
glass at once.(going to drink;) but (puts the glass down)
then every thing ought to be in a good state upon earth.Drink no more,
it will heat you; and, to do good, the soul ought to be sober._Reiss._ Well then--
_Well._ In your proposition there may still be an acceptable compromise
for the children.Sandra moved to the kitchen.But--
_Reiss._ I should think so.Then accept it, give me your hand, and
empty your glass._Well._ Ay, if it concerned only the children, I would accept it.But
it concerns your soul, which cannot go out of this world in peace, if
your conscience is not at peace.Therefore I do not accede to the
proposition._Well._ I cannot accept it for the sake of your immortal soul, till you
quite clear yourself, and give up the whole.Mary went to the garden._Reiss._ Is that your last determination?_Reiss._ Then I will give up nothing at all._Well._ Then God have mercy upon you!_Reiss._ Does not the will itself secure me against every claim?_Reiss._ I beg your pardon; does not Article V. say--
_Well._ If you avail yourself of that plea, and the good spirit has
forsaken you, what must be the awful result!Think in time; what, to
barter everlasting happiness for a few pieces of yellow dirt!_Reiss._ The fifth article says, "that if ever"--Stop a little; I have
the will at hand._Well._ I see there is nothing to be done here.God have mercy upon this obstinate man!--Has he not even tried to tempt
me with his wine, that I might do what is evil?But heaven be praised,
he did not succeed; and how easily might he have succeeded, though my
nerves are worn out with age and infirmities!Besides, it is a very
strong wine; (takes the glass, and smells to it.)(looks
at it;) rather feculent.(Puts the glass down, walks a few steps, and
seems to muse.)This one is fine;
(looks again at his own glass;) this is not so.This
glass came out of the second bottle.He has not drank of that, I think.No, he has not, I now recollect.Perhaps,--but that is very wicked,--
perhaps not content with intoxication, he thought to get me to do the
evil that is in his soul?Such men are not to be trusted; their notions
are abominable.Perhaps he mixed some intoxicating ingredient in this
wine?He is capable of such an action; for, otherwise, why should he
press me to drink?Then my soul would have perished at the same time
with my philosophy!--I must know that; I will have it examined; and, if
so, I will thank God for my deliverance, and withdraw my hand for ever
from the obdurate sinner.(Takes both bottles, and goes away with them.When he has left the room, Reissman comes out of the closet with the
will.)_Reiss._ Look you here; here it expressly says.--Where is he?(Looks
out of the door, comes back, claps his hands together; pours the wine
that is in the two glasses out of the window; puts them in his pocket;
goes once more to the door, at which the Lawyer went out.He is in a
violent agitation; wipes the table very carefully with his
handkerchief; carries it into the closet, out of which he returns with
his hat and cane, and is going out by the door towards the street.When
he is at the door he returns, carefully examines the chair on which the
Lawyer has been seated, passes his handkerchief over it, carries both
chairs into the closet, examines the floor where the chairs stood, and
precipitately exit.)SCENE V.
Master Clarenbach's house.MASTER CLARENBACH, SOPHIA.here you are, if not rich, at least safe.You have now done your duty as a daughter.Now recommend the perverse
man to heaven, and let things take their course._Soph._ Can I be easy with that?It is lamentable, that I have no other
means left._Clar._ My son has acted as a man of honour ought.He would not leave
me till I had given him my word, neither to act nor to speak against
your father._Soph._ I will acknowledge it with filial affection, with the same care
and attention as if I were your own daughter._Clar._ Jack has obtained you by noble means, dear daughter; that is a
good and laudable commencement of the marriage-state._Gern._ Dear old man, I have forgotten all the wrongs the Privy
Counsellor ever did me.He has more than
compensated for all._Gern._ That is out of his power now.But he has acted with such
discretion, with such abundance of good nature, and rendered so much
justice to every body else, that I must be devoid of all feeling, if I
could consider my accounts with him as unsettled._Clar._ Pray speak more of that.I have been unwilling this long while
to enquire into the actions of my son; but to-day I am so pleased with
him, that I could talk of him for ever without interruption._Gern._ He desired me to go home with him.Away with every penny, said
he, which I have not acquired fairly, or of which the least doubt
remains.Then he counted money, sealed it up, and called out to me
repair to the next trading town.I will give you the directions into
whose hands this cash is to go.I will wrong no man, assist me to
discharge my duty, name not who sent it!I will set off this very
day.--He is this moment gone to pay two people, that had been
overcharged in their contributions towards the construction of the
bridge.He intends to discharge that debt personally, because they are
good people on whom he can rely, who will not take advantage of his
frankness.what a valuable portion you bring into my family!When at evenings we
shall meet, and every one of us shall sum up the honest earnings of the
day, with what affection and gratitude shall we then calculate and pay
you the interest of your capital!_Fred._ Your father has been here this minute to enquire after Lawyer
Wellenberg._Fred._ He seemed in doubt some time, whether to go or stay, but then
he went without saying any thing._Clar._ Ah, the legacy,--his conscience--Dr.Kannenfeld,--it begins to
operate._Soph._ Oh, I wish that was settled!_Clar._ Do not be uneasy; old Wellenberg has him entirely in his power,
and he knows what he is about.Enter Privy Counsellor CLARENBACH.Coun._ Sophia, I have kept my word._Clar._ (reaches him his hand.)Coun._ My accounts are now settled, and my mind is at ease.I can
now call a furnished house and four thousand dollars my own honest
property.I have thrown off the burden, I have got rid of a connection
that imposed upon me.how is it possible that any connection should
warp your generous principles.Coun._ Man does not warp all at once, but by degrees.(Lays Sophia's hand on his breast.)You even look
kinder than you used to do._Fred._ I should never have forgiven you, if you had compelled me to
give my hand to Selling.that was done while he was intoxicated with foreign
wine.The cup of pride produces that,--a good and useful beverage for
those that quaff it in moderation.Whoever cannot do that, had better
drink home-made wine._Soph._ But what do you intend to do with regard to your office, and
the charge brought against you concerning the monopoly?Coun._ I mean to set off for the capital, and candidly lay the
whole before the Minister; he is a good man; I will tell him I assumed
a burthen too heavy for my shoulders, and entreat him to lay it on some
person better suited to bear it.When I was desired to sketch a design for
the Prince's palace in our neighbourhood, I also said, "Please your
Highness, I am a carpenter; the undertaking is beyond my sphere; send
for an architect, and what he plans I will endeavour to execute.My
head may conceive the plan for a common dwelling-house well enough, but
not for a palace; and so I do not wish to step out of my line."The old
Prince has since repeatedly thanked me for it, and said, with a
significant nod, "You were right, master, Clarenbach!I wish some of my
counsellors would do the same, and, when called on, say, I am not fit
to fill that office.But they take the hatchet in hand, and slash away
without any art or judgment."--My dear son, throw it down, and let some
good political carpenter take it up._Well._ Are you all here?--thank God!(P. Counsellor reaches a chair.)_Clar._ What is the matter with you, pray?_Fred._ What ails you, Sir?_Soph._ Have you spoken with my father?Coun._ Dear Wellenberg, pray speak plain._Well._ _Est necesse, ut remotis testibus loquar._
_P.Coun._ _Dicam ergo aliis ut abeant._
_Well._ _Imo, jubeas, quaeso!John moved to the bedroom.sunt enim res summi momenti._
_P.Coun._ _Nunquid sane de sponsae meae parente?_
_Well._ _Quin ita!agitur enim vitae et animae salus._
_P.Coun._ Good folks, leave me a minute alone with this good
gentleman._Soph._ It concerns my father.--O Clarenbach!Coun._ We will manage all for the best._Soph._ To your compassion, to your filial compassion,--to your duty as
a son, to your heart, to every thing I appeal, Clarenbach!You must
bring him back to the path of virtue, even against his will.You must,
and my gratitude shall be eternal.SCENE X.
Enter Aulic Counsellor REISSMAN.Wellenberg!--
_Well._ Oh, that God--(Rises.)_Reiss._ I want to speak with you.I will not.--Keep off, keep at six yards distance from
me at least._Reiss._ I must have a private conversation with you.Wellenberg grant it; I entreat you._Well._ Can I?--ask him.Coun._ I beg, I entreat you._Well._ But--(beckons the Privy Counsellor to come near him, and
whispers to |
bedroom | Where is John? | Coun._ Nothing that can give you any uneasiness._Reiss._ Where do you intend to go?Coun._ To win this hand and your esteem.(All exeunt,
except Reissman and Wellenberg.)Aulic Counsellor REISSMAN, Lawyer WELLENBERG.Wallenberg, you are--it is--why are you--I cannot
conceive for what reason you left my house in that abrupt manner._Well._ The warning came from above to the unworthy.(Takes the bottle
out of his pocket.)_Reiss._ How!--(snatching at it.)_Well._ Keep off!--It is poison!_Well._ There is poison in the wine you pressed me to drink._Reiss._ Should you by some unfortunate mistake--
_Well._ It is poison!it was intended to close my lips for ever!Lulled
to sleep by your artful proposals, I might have passed into the other
world according to the old proverb, "Dead men tell no tales;" but you
forgot that I should rise against you at the last day.Lawyer, dare you--
_Well._ I dare call you an assassin,
_Reiss._ Who knows what you have been doing with this bottle in the
mean while?_Well._ So you think to escape by your cunning?This moment I see, and
you feel, the mark which the Almighty has impressed on your brow.Your
mind is callous, and yet you are so struck with terror, that your
tongue cleaves to the roof of your mouth, and cannot perform its
office._Reiss._ But, you, you--
_Well._ Silence!Is your soul insensible to the trepidation of your
body, or what I have not in my power to do?Here stands the evidence of
the crime, there the delinquent, and here I stand, either as judge or a
merciful man, if you deliver yourself up vanquished into my hands; and,
if not, as your accuser before the tribunal of the public.Kneel down
this moment, the sword of justice hangs over your head!_Well._ You are at the end of your career!The judgment of heaven is
committed to my hands, but mercy reigns in my heart: act in such a
manner, that my heart may preponderate; for I am a man whom you have
driven to extremes.What, what must I?--
_Well._ To the extreme, I say._Reiss._ What is your demand then?But what does your conscience
demand, wicked man?(With warmth;) Then, then I must do
what I ought to do._Reiss._ Well, then, I will give up the legacy at once._Well._ Further--
_Reiss._ What can I do more?_Well._ Resign your office, that the corroding canker may be removed
from the breast of my country._Reiss._ But--
_Well._ God and man demand that I should utter this language._Reiss._ I will, I will._Well._ Consent to the Privy Counsellor's marriage, and do not
disinherit your virtuous daughter.All these points must be reduced to
writing, and signed by you this very day; then I will remain silent,
and spare you, that mercy in turn may be shewn to me.Let the seal of silence be placed for ever on your
lips._Reiss._ Give me your word and hand.If you
accomplish the conditions, this affair shall be buried in eternal
oblivion._Reiss._ All shall be done this very day._Well._ Now go, and inform the people of all the blessings you intend
to shower on them._Reiss._ I will grant them every thing, but I cannot tell them the
happy effects of our conversation._Well._ It must be so to save appearances.Accept this, it
is of the first water, worth two hundred Louis d'ors.Mary moved to the kitchen._Well._ The tears of joy that your virtuous daughter will shed are the
purest christian water, and sparkle better.Those I will accept, and
thank God for the tribulations, for by this he has enabled me to
purchase what is good.Sandra moved to the kitchen.Thus I
discharge the sinner from his terrors and my hands, and recommend him
to the hand of the Father of all.--(Reissman slaps his forehead, and
exit.)--I think I have done well; at least, I do not know how I could
have done better.He has stood before the executioner; if that do not
shake and convert him, his good angel will veil his face and fly from
him, and then he will soon be hurled whither I would not wish._Clar._ Old friend, you have performed wonders!_Well._ Not I, not I, (looking up to heaven,) but another._Clar._ He restores the legacy to the poor orphans; he consents to my
son's marriage._Well._ Even so, he has done no more than the duty of a Christian._Clar._ He does not disinherit his daughter; he gives the children
their inheritance.Enter Privy Counsellor CLARENBACH,
SOPHIA, FREDERICA, and GERNAU._Well._ (Puts his hands in his pockets.)Spare my weak hands; my heart
is sound!--
_P.Coun._ How was it possible, how did it happen?_Well._ That--
_P.Coun._ He uttered all these benefactions in such a hurry--
_Fred._ And at the same time looked nobody in the face--
_Gern._ And then he ran away._Clar._ I never saw a man do so much good in so ungracious a manner.but he has done it after all, and--
_Clar._ Well, well; but how did it come about?_Well._ Never ask that question again!--never!_Clar._ We thank God it is so; why should we enquire how it came to be
so?_Well._ That is right, friend Clarenbach!And you resign the Privy Counsellorship?Coun._ My abilities are not adequate to it._Well._ Have I not told you a hundred times, when he was what they call
a Lawyer, and when he wrote with such humane feelings, with such fire,
with such indefatigability, in the cause of justice,--Master
Clarenbach, said I, Jack stands very high on level ground; do not
suffer him to rise higher, for he will tumble down._Clar._ It is true upon my word._Well._ So you came down of your accord?Coun._ Henceforth I hope to prove useful to mankind.Under your
guidance, I will be a Lawyer once more.I cannot bear that name; it conveys the
idea of an entangled net, or of a deceitful guide, that will lead you
out of the way into the pathless desert.We should not be called
Lawyers, but the Friends of Justice._Clar._ Yes, yes; Friends of Justice, the foes of chicanery!Mary went to the garden._Well._ Who will not plead in an unjust cause!Have you the resolution to be an honest Lawyer?_Well._ Write little; act a good deal; take little money; have a good
stock of honesty and kind intentions; apply but seldom for advice to
the _corpus juris_, but often to the heart; and to the hour of death I
shall esteem you.I shall lead the way by the course of nature, but it
will yet be a consolation to me in my last moments to think I have left
an honest man behind me,--a man that will wipe away the tears of the
widow and the orphan._Clar._ Jack, listen to the words of this good old man; let them sink
deep into your heart; let them be your model!John moved to the bedroom.He possesses little
worldly wealth; but, at the last day, what myriads that now roll in
wealth would wish that they had possessed as little and done half as
much good with it; but it is not for me to judge; I only say, make him
your model.Enter Aulic Counsellor REISSMAN._Reiss._ I am come to tell you what I know will please you.I
have at last settled my accounts with my conscience; I owe much, but I
will endeavour to pay all.Now I feel in earnest that I am a father,
and this is my dear daughter!_Soph._ O my dear father, the serenity of your brow, like a mild
evening-sun, sooths the perturbation of my mind.This single moment of joy would repay an age of sorrow.(embraces her again;) and this is my son!(embraces Privy Counsellor; Clarenbach takes him by the hand.)I am now
completely happy, my mind tells me so; my feeble sight was dazzled with
the false lustre of gold; but honest Wellenberg took me by the hand and
conducted me into the path in which I ought to walk in the evening of
life._Clar._ I have not wept for some time; but nature, on the present
occasion, has indulged me with a few tears, and they shall be paid on
sight.(takes Reissman by the hand.)We are both in the evening of
life; let us descend with even step to the grave; our dear friend
Wellenberg will be our guide.Let us leave our children behind us, and,
if any evil should tempt them in an unguarded moment, may our example
interpose like a guardian angel!Splendor and ambition are gaudy signs,
painted by the hand of delusion, to lead the bewildered traveller still
farther astray.(Gernau kisses Sophia's hand, and gazes on Frederica
with fond attention.)_Soph._ (embraces Frederica, and drops a tear.)Excuse me, I have a
tear for joy as well as sorrow._Clar._ Come, let us not delay the nuptial rites.LIST OF BOOKS JUST PUBLISHED BY
W. WEST, No.27, PATERNOSTER-ROW.The BEAUTIES of the late Right Honorable EDMUND BURKE, selected from
his Writings, &c. alphabetically arranged, including several celebrated
POLITICAL CHARACTERS, drawn by himself, and his own Character by
different Hands.To which is prefixed a SKETCH of the LIFE, with many
original ANECDOTES of Mr."This work contains many original anecdotes which escaped the notice of
Mr.Bisset, and which, relating to Mr.Burke's
private life, are peculiarly interesting."With regard to the specific merits of the compilement, as a selection,
we may observe, that the extracts from the multifarious writings of Mr.Burke, appear to be judiciously selected, and the general mass seems to
be very properly reduced to order."--_Monthly Review for December_,
1798.PIERRE's celebrated STUDIES of NATURE, carefully abridged, with a
copious INDEX, by L. T. REDE, in one handsome Volume, 8vo.This work is peculiarly adapted to inspire, in the breast of youth, the
highest reverence and profound adoration for the wisdom and benevolence
of God in the works of the creation, which the Author has displayed in
such fine language, that it cannot fail to form the taste for
composition, at the same time that it improves the head and expands the
understanding.The BALNEA, or a HISTORY of all the popular WATERING PLACES in ENGLAND,
in 12mo."Carey, at whose eccentric entertainment we have laughed many an hour,
has here produced a most pleasant and lively _melange_, the result of
much whim and observation, blended with a vast fund of genuine
anecdotes, and a very particular account of the various amusements,
customs, manners, and inhabitants of the places of fashionable resort
in this kingdom."--_Monthly Mirror for January_, 1799.ANECDOTES and BIOGRAPHY, including many modern Characters in the
circles of fashionable and official Life, By L. T. REDE, 8vo."This is almost without exception the best collection of anecdotes ever
perused.The Editor discovers good taste, both in his choice of
materials, and the various occasions in which he presents himself to
his readers, and speaks in person.We acknowledge ourselves indebted to
his industry, for a fund of very agreeable entertainment," &c.&c.--_New London Review for January_, 1799.The ELEMENTS of CHEMISTRY, translated from the German of JOSEPH FRANCIS
JACQUIN.PETER PINDAR's TALES of the HOY, interspersed with Song, Ode, and
Dialogue, 4to.The NATURAL and POLITICAL HISTORY of the STATE of VERMONT, one of the
United States of America; wherein is discovered the primary Cause of
the late American War, &c.&c. by IRA ALLEN, Esq.Major-General of the
Militia of the State of Vermont, with a coloured Map, 8vo._A LIST OF PLAYS, JUST PUBLISHED BY_
W. WEST, NO.27, PATERNOSTER-ROW.Mary journeyed to the office.THE BACHELORS, a Comedy in five Acts, translated from the German of W.
A.THE NOBLE LIE, a Comedy in one Act, translated from the German of
AUGUSTUS VON KOTZEBUE, being the Conclusion of his much-admired Comedy
of the STRANGER, or MYSANTROPY AND REPENTANCE.--Price 1s.POVERTY AND WEALTH, A Comedy, in five Acts, as performed Seventy-five
successive Nights at the Theatre Royal, Copenhagen.Mary went to the bathroom.Translated from the
Danish of P. A. HEIBERG, A. C. by C. H. WILSON,Esq.These aphorisms are here mentioned, as constituting the peculiar praise
and beauty of the chorus.This is finely observed, and was intended to
convey an oblique censure on the practice of those poets, who stuff out
every part of the drama alike with moral sentences, not considering,
that the only proper receptacle of them is the chorus, where indeed
they have an extreme propriety; it being the peculiar office and
character of the chorus to moralize.In the course of the action they
should rarely be used; and that for the plain reason assigned by the
author, just quoted, [for the rule holds on the stage, as well as at
the bar] _Ut rei actores, non vivendi præceptores, esse videamur_.That
there was some ground for this reproof of the Roman drama, is collected
from the few remaining fragments of the old Latin plays, which have
much of this sententious cast, and from what Quintilian expresly tells
us of the old Latin poets, whose fame, it seems, was principally raised
upon this merit._Tragœdiæ scriptores, Accius et Pacuvius, clarissimi
gravitate sententiarum, &c._ [l. x. c.To how intolerable an
extreme this humour of moralizing in plays was afterwards carried,
Seneca has given us an example.But here a question will be started, “Why then did the Greeks moralize
so much, or, if we condemn _Accius_ and _Seneca_, how shall we defend
_Sophocles_ and _Euripides_?” An ingenious[18] modern hath taken some
pains to satisfy this difficulty, and in part, I think, hath succeeded.His solution, in brief, is, “That the moral and political aphorisms of
the Greek stage generally contained some apt and interesting allusion
to the state of public affairs, which was easily catched by a quick,
intelligent auditory; and not a dry, affected moral, without further
meaning, as for the most part was that of the Latins.” This account is
not a little confirmed by particular instances of such acknowledged
allusions, as well as from reflexions on the genius and government of
the Athenians, at large.But this, though it goes some way, does not
fully extricate the matter.The truth is, these sentences are too thick
sown in the Greek writers, to be fully accounted for from the single
consideration of their democratical views.Not to observe, that the
very choice of this _medium_ for the conveyance of their political
applications, presupposes the |
garden | Where is Sandra? | I would then account for it in the following manner.Mary moved to the kitchen.I. In the virtuous simplicity of less polished times, this spirit of
moralizing is very prevalent; the good sense of such people always
delighting to shew itself in sententious or proverbial γνῶμαι, or
observations.Their character, like that of the clown in Shakespear,
is _to be very swift and sententious_.[As you like it, Act v. sc.This is obvious to common experience, and was long since observed
by the _philosopher_, οἱ ἄγροικοι μάλιστα γνωμοτύποι εἰσὶ, καὶ ῥᾳδίως
ἀποφάινονται, [Arist.an observation, which of
itself accounts for the practice of the elder poets in Greece, as in
all other nations.A custom, thus introduced, is not easily laid aside,
especially when the oracular cast of these sentences, so fitted to
_strike_, and the moral views of writers themselves (which was more
particularly true of the old dramatists) concurred to favour this
taste.But, 2. there was added to this, more especially in the age
of Sophocles and Euripides, a general prevailing fondness for moral
wisdom, which seems to have made the fashionable study of men of all
ranks in those days; when schools of philosophy were resorted to for
recreation as well as instruction, and a knowledge in morals was the
supreme accomplishment in vogue: The fruit of these philosophical
conferences would naturally shew itself in certain brief, sententious
conclusions, which would neither contradict the fashion, nor, it
seems, offend against the ease and gaiety of conversation in those
times._Schools_ and _pedantry_, _morals_ and _austerity_, were not so
essentially connected, in their combinations of ideas, as they have
been since; and a sensible moral truth might have fallen from any
mouth, without disgracing it.Nay, which is very remarkable, the very
_scholia_, as they were called, or drinking catches of the Greeks,
were seasoned with this moral turn; the sallies of pleasantry, which
escaped them in their freest hours, being tempered for the most part,
by some strokes of this national sobriety.“During the course of their
entertainments, says Athenæus, [l. xv.they loved to hear, from
some wise and prudent person, an agreeable song: and those songs were
held by them most agreeable, which contained exhortations to virtue, or
other instructions relative to their conduct in life.”
And to give the reader a taste of these _moral_ songs, I will take
leave to present him with a very fine one, written by no less a person
than Aristotle himself; and the rather, as I have it in my power to
present him, at the same time, with an elegant translation of it.Sandra moved to the kitchen.But
its best recommendation will be that it comes from the same hand which
has so agreeably entertained us of late with some spirited imitations
of Horace[19].Ἀρετὰ πολύμοχθε γένει βροτείῳ,
Θήραμα κάλλιστον βίῳ.Σᾶς πέρι, Παρθένε, μορφᾶς
Καὶ θανεῖν ζηλωτὸς ἐν Ἑλλάδι πότμος,
Καὶ πόνους τλῆναι μαλεροὺς ἀκάμαντας.Τοῖον ἐπὶ φρένα βάλλεις καρπὸν εἰς ἀθάνατον,
Χρυσοῦ τε κρέσσω καὶ γονέων,
Μαλακαυγητοῖό θ’ ὕπνου.Σοῦ δ’ ἕνεκ’ ἐκ Διὸς Ἡρακλέης
Λήδας τε κοῦροι πόλλ’ ἀνέτλασαν,
Ἔργοις σὰν ἀγορεύοντες δύναμιν.Mary went to the garden.Σοῖς τε πόθοις Ἀχιλλεὺς
Αἴας τ’ αἴδαο δόμους ἦλθον·
Σᾶς δ’ ἕνεκα φιλίου μορφᾶς
Ἀταρνέως ἔντροφος
Ἀελίου χήρωσεν αὐγάς.Τοίγαρ ἀοίδιμον ἔργοις,
Ἀθάνατόν τε μιν αὐξήσουσι μοῦσαι,
Μναμοσύνας θύγατρες,
Διὸς ξενίου σέβας αὔξουσαι
Φιλίας τε γέρας βεβαίου[20].I.
Hail, Virtue!sov’reign Good,
By man’s bold race with pain pursu’d!Where’er thou dart’st thy radiant eye,
Greece sees her sons with transport fly;
Danger before thee disappears,
And death’s dark frown no terror wears.So full into the breast of man descends
Thy rich ambrosial show’r;
A show’r, that gold, that parents far transcends,
Or, sleep’s soft-soothing pow’r.By thee ALCIDES soar’d to fame,
Thy influence LEDA’S twins proclaim;
Heroes for thee have dauntless trod
The dreary paths of hell’s abode;
Fir’d by thy form, all beamy bright,
Atarneus’ nursling left the light.His deeds, his social love (so will the nine,
Proud to spread wide the praise
Of friendship and of friendly Jove) shall shine
With ever-living rays.This moralizing humour, so prevalent in those times, is, I dare be
confident, the true source of the sententious cast of the Greek
dramatic writers, as well as of that sober air of moral, which, to the
no small disgust of modern writers, is spread over all their poets.Not but there would be some difference in those poets themselves, and
in proportion as they had been more or less conversant in the Academy,
would be their relish of this moral mode; as is clearly seen in the
case of Euripides, that philosopher of the stage, as the Athenians
called him, and who is characterized by Quinctilian, as _sententiis
densus, et in iis, quæ a sapientibus tradita sunt, pæne ipsis par_.Yet still the fashion was so general, that no commerce of the
world could avoid, or wholly get clear of it; and therefore Sophocles,
though his engagements in the state kept him at a greater distance from
the schools, had yet his share of this philosophical humour.Now this
apology for the practice of the Greek poets doth by no means extend to
the Roman; Philosophy having been very late, and never generally, the
taste of Rome.Cicero says, _Philosophia quidem tantum abest ut proinde, ac de hominum
est vitâ merita, laudetur, ut a plerisque neglecta, a multis etiam
vituperetur_.In another place he tells us, that in his time Aristotle
was not much known, or read, even by the philosophers themselves.sub init._]
And, though in the age of Seneca, _Sentences_, we know, were much in
use, yet the cast and turn of them evidently shew them to have been
the affectation of the lettered _few_, and not the _general_ mode and
practice of the time.For the quaintness, in which Seneca’s aphorisms
are dressed, manifestly speaks the labour and artifice of the closet,
and is just the reverse of that easy, simple expression, which cloaths
them in the Greek poets, thus demonstrating their familiar currency in
common life.Under any other circumstances than these, the practice, as
was observed, must be unquestionably faulty; except only in the chorus,
where for the reason before given, it may always, with good advantage,
be employed.John moved to the bedroom.* * * * *
220.Mary journeyed to the office.CARMINE QUI TRAGICO, &c.]201, from whence
the poet had digressed, is worth observing.Mary went to the bathroom.The digression had been
taken up in describing the improved state of dramatic music; the
application of which to the case of tragedy, brings him round again to
his subject, the tragic chorus; to which alone, as hath been observed,
the two last lines refer.This too is the finest preparation of what
follows.For to have passed on directly from the _tibia_ to the
_satyrs_, had been abrupt and inartificial; but from _tragedy_, the
transition is easy, the _satyrs_ being a species of the tragic drama.That it was so accounted may be seen from the following passage in Ovid,
_Est et in obscænos deflexa tragædia risus,
Multaque præteriti verba pudoris habet_.For the _tragedy_, here referred to, cannot be the regular Roman
tragedy._That_ he had distinctly considered before, and, besides,
it in no age admitted, much less in this, of which we are speaking,
so intolerable a mixture.Sandra travelled to the garden.As little can it be understood of the
proper Atellane fable, for besides that Ovid is here considering the
_Greek_ drama only, the Atellane was ever regarded as a species, not
of tragedy, but comedy: The authority of Donatus is very express;
“_Comædiarum_ formæ sunt tres: Palliatæ, Togatæ, _Atellanæ_, salibus
et jocis compositæ, quæ in se non habent nisi vetustam elegantiam.”
[Prol.speaking of some pieces of
this sort, which L. Sylla had composed, calls them σατυρικὰς κωμῳδίας,
satyric comedies; _comedies_, because, ss Donatus says, “salibus et
jocis compositæ:” and _satyric_, not that satyrs were introduced
in them, but, according to Diomedes, from their being “argumentis
dictisque _similes_ satyricis fabulis Græcis.” Of what then can Ovid
be understood to speak, but the true satyric piece, which was always
esteemed, and, as appears from the Cyclops, in fact is, what Demetrius
[περὶ ἑρμηνείας] elegantly calls it, τραγῳδία παιζούση, a lighter kind
of _tragedy_; the very name, which Horace, as well as Ovid in this
place, gives to it?But this is further clear from the instance quoted
by Ovid, of this loose tragedy; for he proceeds:
_Nec nocet autori, mollem qui fecit Achillem,
Infregisse suis fortia facta modis_.which well agrees to the idea of a satyric piece, and, as Vossius takes
notice, seems to be the very same subject, which Athenæus and others
tell us, Sophocles had work’d into a satyric tragedy, under the title
of Ἀχιλλέως ἐρασταί.* * * * *
221.It is not the intention of these notes to retail
the accounts of others.I must therefore refer the reader, for whatever
concerns the history of the satyric, as I have hitherto done, of
the tragic, and comic drama, to the numerous dissertators on the
ancient stage; and above all, in the case before us, to the learned
Casaubon; from whom all that hath been said to any purpose, by modern
writers, hath been taken.Only it will be proper to observe one or two
particulars, which have been greatly misunderstood, and without which
it will be impossible, in any tolerable manner, to explane what follows.I. The design of the poet, in these lines, is not to fix the origin of
the satyric piece, in ascribing the invention of it to Thespis.This
hath been concluded, without the least warrant from his own words,
which barely tell us, “that the Representation of tragedy was in elder
Greece, followed by the _satyrs_;” and indeed the nature of the thing,
as well as the testimony of all antiquity, shews it to be impossible.For the _satyr_ here spoken of, is, in all respects, a regular drama,
and therefore could not be of earlier date, than the times of Æschylus,
when the constitution of the drama was first formed.’Tis true indeed,
there was a kind of entertainment of much greater antiquity, which by
the ancients is sometimes called _satyric_, out of which (as Aristotle
assures us) tragedy itself arose, ἡ δὲ τραγῳδία, διὰ τὸ ἐκ σατυρικοῦ
μεταβαλεῖν, ὀψὲ ἀπεσεμνώθη, [περ.But then this was
nothing but a chorus of satyrs [Athenæus, l.celebrating the
festivals of _Bacchus_, with rude songs, and uncouth dances; and had
little resemblance to that, which was afterwards called _satyric_;
which, except that it retained the chorusDaniel went back to the hallway. |
hallway | Where is Sandra? | Mary moved to the kitchen.There is no doubt but the poem, here distinguished by the name of
SATYRI, was in actual use on the Roman stage.This appears from the
turn of the poet’s whole criticism upon it.Particularly, his address
to the Pisos, v.235. and his observation of the offence which a loose
dialogue in this drama would give to a _Roman_ auditory, v.248. make
it evident that he had, in fact, the practice of his own stage in
view.It hath, however, been questioned, whether by _Satyri_ we are to
understand the proper Greek _Satyrs_, or the Latin _Atellane_ fable,
which, in the main of its character, very much resembled that drama.If the authority of Diomedes be any thing, the _former_ must be the
truth, for he expresly asserts, “that the Satyric and Atellane pieces,
though similar in the general cast of their composition, differed in
this essential point, that the persons in the former were satyrs, in
the other, not.” [L. iii.Now the poet expresly tells
us, the Persons in the drama he is here describing, were _Satyrs_, and
accordingly delivers rules for the regulation of their characters.As
to the _Atellane_, according to the way in which Vossius reads the
words of Diomedes, the characters were _Oscan_, _personæ Oscæ_, which
is very probable, not so much for the reasons assign’d by this Critic
(for they are indeed very frivolous) but because, as it should seem
from a passage in Strabo, [Lib.the language of the OSCI was
used in these Atellanes, and therefore common sense would require,
that the persons also introduced should be Oscan.The difficulty is
to know how it happened that, in a work written purposely to reform
the Roman stage, the poet should say nothing of one species, the
_Atellane_, which was of great authority and constant use at Rome, and
yet say so much of another, the _Satyrs_, which was properly a Greek
entertainment and certainly much less cultivated by the Roman poets.Sandra moved to the kitchen.The plain solution of the matter, is, that, when now the Romans were
become acquainted with the Greek models, and had applied themselves
to the imitation of them, these Oscan characters were exchanged for
the Greek satyrs, which they before resembled in the main parts of
their character; and which appear, on other occasions, to have been
no strangers at Rome; as we collect from the Sileni and Satyrs making
a part (as Dionysius relates it) in their triumphal processions.Mary went to the garden.So
that this change of the Oscan persons for _Satyrs_ is to be considered
only as an improvement of the old _Atellane_, and not the introduction
of an intirely new drama.In every other respect the precepts here
given for the regulation of the _Satyrs_ are such as would equally
serve to improve the _Atellane_.The probable reason why the poet
chose to insist so much on this alteration, or rather why he laboured
so strenuously to _support_ it, will be given in its place.In the
mean time supposing his view to have been this of countenancing the
introduction of _satyric persons_ into the Atellane (and that they
were, in fact, introduced, we learn from an express authority[21])
every thing said on the subject will not only be pertinent and
agreeable to what is here taught to be the general tenor of the
epistle, but will be seen to have an address and contrivance, which
will very much illustrate this whole part, and recommend it to the
exact reader.But before I quit this subject of the Atellane fable it will be proper
to observe, That when I every where speak of it, as of early original,
and ancient use on the Roman stage, I am not unmindful that Velleius
Paterculus speaks of Pomponius as the Inventor of this Poem; which, if
taken in the strict sense, will bring the date of it very low.John moved to the bedroom.“Sane
non ignoremus eâdem ætate fuisse Pomponium, sensibus celebrem, verbis
rudem, et _novitate inventi a se operis_ commendabilem.” L. ii.For the age he is speaking of is that of SYLLA.But the authorities
for the high antiquity of the Atellane fable are so express, that,
when Pomponius is called the _Inventor_ of it, it is but as Horace
calls Lucilius the Inventor of the Roman Satire.Mary journeyed to the office.That is, he made so
considerable a change in the form and conduct of this poem, as to run
away with all the honour of it.Mary went to the bathroom.The improvements made by Lucilius in
Satire have been taken notice of in the _Introduction_.And it happens
that a curious passage in Athenæus will let us into the Improvements
made by Pomponius in the Atellanes.Sandra travelled to the garden.But first we are to understand that this sort of entertainment, as the
name speaks, was imported to Rome from ATELLA, a town of the OSCI in
Campania; and that the Dialect of that people was constantly and _only_
used in it, even when the Osci themselves had ceased to be a people.Daniel went back to the hallway.ΟΣΚΩΝ ἐκλελοιπότων, ἡ διάλεκτος μένει παρὰ
τοῖς Ῥωμαίοις· ὧστε καὶ ποιήματα σκηνοβατεῖσθαι κατά τινα ἀγῶνα πάτριον
καὶ μιμολογεῖσθαι.The OSCAN language, we see, was made use of in the Atellane plays, just
as the Welsh, or some Provincial Dialect, is often employed in our
Comedies.But now we learn from Athenæus that L. Sylla writ some of these
Atellanes in the ROMAN LANGUAGE.ὑπ’ αὐτοῦ γραφεῖσαι σατυρικαὶ κωμῳδίαι
ΤΗΙ ΠΑΤΡΩΩΙ ΦΩΝΗΙ.For the Pomponius whom Velleius speaks of was contemporary
with L. Sylla.So that to give any propriety to the term of _Inventor_,
as applied to Pomponius, we must conclude that he was the _first_
person who set this example of composing Atellane plays in the vulgar
dialect: which took so much that he was even followed in this practice
by the Roman General.This account of the matter perfectly suits
with the encomium given to Pomponius.He would naturally, on such
an alteration, endeavour to give this buffoon sort of Comedy a more
rational cast: And this reform of itself would entitle him to great
honour.Hence the SENSIBUS CELEBRIS of Paterculus[22].But to preserve
some sort of resemblance (which the people would look for) to the old
Atellane, and not to strip it of all the pleasantry arising from the
barbarous dialect, he affected, it seems, the _antique_ in the turn of
his expression.Hence the other part of his character (which in the
politer age of Paterculus grew offensive to nice judges) VERBIS RUDIS.The conclusion is, That the Atellane Fable was in its first rude form
and Oscan Dialect of ancient use at Rome, where it was admitted, as
Strabo speaks, ΚΑΤΑ ΤΙΝΑ ΑΓΩΝΑ ΠΑΤΡΙΟΝ: That Pomponius afterwards
_reformed_ its barbarities, and brought it on the Stage in a _Roman_
dress; which together were thought so great improvements, that later
writers speak of him as the INVENTOR of this Poem.But to return to our
proper subject, the _Greek Satyrs_.For the absolute merit of these satyrs, the reader will judge
of it himself by comparing the Cyclops, the only piece of this kind
remaining to us from antiquity, with the rules here delivered by
Horace.Only it may be observed, in addition to what the reader will
find elsewhere [_n._ v.apologized in its favour, that the
double character of the satyrs admirably fitted it, as well for a
sensible entertainment to the wise, as for the sport and diversion of
the vulgar.For while the grotesque appearance, and jesting vein of
these fantastic personages amused the one; the other saw much further;
and considered them, at the same time, as replete with science, and
informed by a spirit of the most abstruse wisdom.Hence important
lessons of civil prudence, interesting allusions to public affairs,
or a high, refined moral, might, with the highest probability, be
insinuated, under the slight cover of a rustic simplicity.And from
this instructive cast, which from its nature must be very obscure, if
not impenetrable, to us at this day, was, I doubt not, derived the
principal pleasure which the ancients found in this species of the
drama.If the modern reader would conceive any thing of the nature and
degree of this pleasure, he may in part guess at it, from reflecting on
the entertainment he himself receives from the characters of the clowns
in Shakespear; _who_, as the poet himself hath characterized them,
_use their folly, like a stalking horse, and, under the presentation of
that, shoot their wit_.* * * * *
221.AGRESTIS SATYROS, &c.]It hath been shewn, that the poet could
not intend, in these lines, to _fix the origin of the satyric drama_.But, though this be certain, and the dispute concerning that point be
thereby determined, yet is it to be noted, that he purposely describes
the satyr in its ruder and less polished form; glancing even at some
barbarities, which deform the Bacchic chorus; which was properly the
satyric piece, before Æschylus had, by his regular constitution of the
drama, introduced it, under a very different form on the stage.The
reason of this conduct is given in _n._ on v.Hence the propriety
of the word _nudavit_, which Lambin rightly interprets, _nudos
introduxit Satyros_, the poet hereby expressing the monstrous indecorum
of this entertainment in its first unimproved state.Alluding also to
this ancient character of the _Satyr_, he calls him _asper_, i. e.
rude and petulant; and even adds, that his jests were intemperate, and
without the _least mixture of gravity_.For thus, upon the authority of
a very ingenious and learned critic, I explane _incolumi gravitate_, i.
e. rejecting every thing serious, bidding _farewell_, as we say, _to
all gravity_._Incolumi Jove et urbe Roma;_
_i.e._ bidding farewell to Jupiter [Capitolinus] and Rome; agreeably
to what is said just before,
_Anciliorum et nominis et togæ_
OBLITUS, _æternæque Vestæ_.or, as SALVUS is used still more remarkably in Martial [10. l._Ennius est lectus_ SALVO _tibi, Roma, Marone:
Et sua riserunt secula Mæonidem._
_Farewell, all gravity_, is as remote from the original sense of the
words _fare well_, as _incolumi gravitate_ from that of _incolumis_, or
_salvo Marone_ from that of _salvus_.* * * * *
223.INLECEBRIS ERAT ET GRATA NOVITATE MORANDUS SPECTATOR—] The poet
gives us in these words the reason, why such gross Ribaldry, as we know
the Atellanes consisted of, was endured by the politest age of Rome.Scenical representations, being then intended, not, as in our days, for
the entertainment of the better sort, but on certain great solemnities,
indifferently for the diversion of the whole city, it became necessary
to consult the taste of the multitude, as well as of those, _quibus est
equus, et pater et res_.And this reason is surely sufficient to vindicate the poet from the
censure of a late critic, who has fallen upon this part of the epistle
with no mercy.“The poet, says he, spends a great number of verses
about these satyrs; but the subject itself is unworthy his pen.Daniel went to the bedroom.He,
who could not bear the elegant mimes of Laberius, that he should think
this farcical and obscene trash, worth his peculiar notice, is somewhat
strange.” I doubt not, it appeared so to this writer, who neither
considered the peculiar necessity of the satyric piece, nor attended to
the poet’s purpose and drift in this epistle.Sandra journeyed to the hallway.The former is the more
extraordinary, because he hath told us, and rightly too, “that, to
content the people, the satyric was superadded to the tragic drama.”
And he quotes a passage from Diomedes, which gives the same account,
_Satyros induxerunt ludendi causa jocandique, simul ut spectator inter
res tragicas seriasque satyrorum quoque jocis et ludis delectaretur_.Should not this have taught him, that what was so requisite to content
the people, might deserve some notice from the poet?This _farcical
trash_ was chiefly calculated for those, who without the _enticement
of so agreeable a change_ in the entertainment of the day, would not
have had patience to sit out the tragedy; which being intended for
the gratification of the better sort, _urbani et honesti_, they, in
their turn, required to be diverted in the only way, which was to the
level of their taste, that of farce and pleasantry.And this I dare be
confident, so great a patron of liberty, as this writer, will agree
with me in thinking to be but reasonable in a free state; which ought
to make some provision for the _few_, that may chance, even under
such advantages, to want a truly critical spirit.I hold then, that
Horace acted, not only in the character of a good critic, but of a
prudent man, and good citizen, in attempting to refine, what it had
not been equitable, or was not in his power, wholly to remove.But 2.
the learned critic as little attended to the drift of the epistle,
as to the important use and necessity of the satyric drama.He must
otherwise have seen, that, in an essay to improve and regulate the
Roman theatre (which is the sole purpose of it) the poet’s business was
to take it, as it then stood, and to confine himself to such defects
and abuses, as he found most likely to admit a correction, and not, as
visionary projectors use, to propose a thorough reform of the public
taste in every instance.The _Atellanes_ had actual possession of
the stage, and, from their antiquity, and other prejudices in their
favour, as well as from the very design and end of their theatrical
entertainments, would be sure to keep it.What had the poet |
hallway | Where is John? | This he judged
might most conveniently be done by adopting the Greek _Satyrs_ instead
of their own _Oscan_ characters.With this change, though the Atellanes
might not, perhaps, be altogether to his own taste, yet he hoped to
render it a tolerable entertainment to the better sort.And this, in
fact, it might have been by following the directions here given; part
of which were intended to free it from that _obscene and farcical
trash_, which appears to have been no less offensive to the poet, than
to this critic.As for the so much applauded _mimes_, they had not, it is probable, at
this time gained a footing on the stage, sufficient to entitle them to
so much consideration.This was a new upstart species of the drama,
which, though it had the common good-fortune of absurd novelties, to
take with the great; yet was generally disapproved by men of better
taste, and better morals.Cicero had passed a severe censure upon it
in one of his epistles, [Ad famil.which intimates, that it
was of a more buffoon and ridiculous composition, than their Atellanes;
whose place it began to be the fashion to supply with this ribaldry.John went to the kitchen.And we collect the same thing from what Ovid observes of it in apology
for the looseness of his own verses,
_Quid si scripsissem_ MIMOS _obscœna jocantes,
Qui semper vetiti crimen amoris habent?_
_Nec satis incestis temerari vocibus_ aures,
_Assuescunt_ oculi _multa pudenda pati_.Horace, with this writer’s leave, might therefore judge it better to
retain the Atellanes under some restrictions, than adopt what was much
worse.But the mimes of Laberius were quite another thing.So J. Scaliger [Comment, de Comœd.and, after him, this writer, tells us; but on no better grounds, than
that he wrote good Latin (though not always that, as may be seen in
A. Gellius, l. xvi.and hath left a few elegant, moral scraps
behind him.the kind of composition was ridiculous and
absurd, and, in every view, far less tolerable, than the _satyrs_ under
the regulation of Horace.The latter was a regular drama, consisting
of an intire fable, conducted according to the rules of probability
and good sense, only dashed with a little extravagance for the sake
of the mob.The character of the former hath been given above from
unquestionable authorities.defines it to be _an irreverent and lascivious imitation of
obscene acts_—_mimus est sermonis cujuslibet motus sine reverentia,
vel factorum et turpium cum lascivia imitatio_.And Scaliger himself
owns _veri mimi proprium esse quædam sordida ut affectet_, loc.It seems, in short, to have been a confused medley of comic drollery
on a variety of subjects, without any consistent order or design;
delivered by one actor, and heightened with all the licence of obscene
gesticulation.Its best character, as practised by its greatest master,
Laberius, was that of being witty in a very bad way [Sen.and its sole end and boast, _risu diducere rictum_ [Hor.which, whatever virtue it may be, is not always a proof of
much elegance.But I have spent too many words on a criticism, which
the ingenious author, I am persuaded, let fall unawares, and did not
mean to give us as the result of a mature and well-weighed deliberation
on this subject.* * * * *
225.VERUM ITA RISORES, &c.]The connecting particle, _verum_,
expresses the opposition intended between the original satyr and that
which the poet approves.For having insinuated the propriety of the
satyric shews, as well from the practice of Greece, as the nature of
festival solemnities, the poet goes on to animadvert on their defects,
and to prescribe such rules, in the conduct of them, as might render
them a tolerable diversion, even to the better sort.This introduction
of the subject hath no small art.For, there being at this time (as
hath been shewn) an attempt to bring in the Greek satyrs, while the
Atellane plays (as was likely) still held the affections of the people,
the poet was not openly to reproach and discredit these; but, by a
tacit preference, to support and justify the other.For, instead of criticising the Atellanes, which came directly
in his way, after having closed his account of the Roman tragedy, he
relates, as it were, incidentally, the practice of ancient Greece in
exhibiting satyrs, and thence immediately passes on, without so much as
touching on the other favourite entertainment, to offer some directions
concerning the satyric drama.* * * * *
227.NE QUICUNQUE DEUS, QUICUNQUE ADHIBEBITUR HEROS, &c.]Gods and
Heroes were introduced as well into the satyric as tragic drama, and
often the very same Gods and Heroes, which had born a part in the
preceding tragedy: a practice, which Horace, I suppose, intended, by
this hint, to recommend as most regular.This gave the serious, tragic
air to the satyr.The comic arose from the _risor_ and _dicax_, who was
either a satyr himself, or some character of an extravagant, ridiculous
cast, like a satyr.Of this kind, says Diomedes, from whom I take this
account, are Autolychus and Burris: which last particular I mention
for the sake of justifying a correction of the learned Casaubon.This
great critic conjectured, that, instead of _Burris_, in this place, it
should be read _Busiris_.His reason is “_nam Burris iste ex Græcorum
poetis mihi non notus_:” which reason hath more force, than appears at
first sight.For the very nature of this diversion required, that the
principal character of it should be well known, which it was scarce
likely to be, if not taken from a common story in their poets.But
Vossius objects, “_sed non ea fuerit persona ridicula_:” contrary to
what the grammarian represents it.Busiris was a savage,
inhospitable tyrant, who sacrificed strangers.And what should hinder
this character from being made ridiculous, as well as Polypheme in the
Cyclops?And, as is seen in that
case, the ancients knew to set forth such monsters of cruelty in a
light, that rendered them equally absurd and detestable.This was
agreeable to their humanity, which, by such representations, loved to
cultivate a spirit of benevolence in the spectators; and shews the
moral tendency of even the absurdest of the ancient dramatic shews.The
objection of Vossius is then of no weight.But what further confirms
the emendation of the excellent Casaubon, is a manuscript note on the
margin of a printed copy of this book[23], which I have now by me, as
it should seem, from his own hand, “_lectionem vero quam restituimus
etiam in optimo codice Puteano postea invenimus_.” The learned reader
will therefore, henceforth, look upon the text of _Diomedes_, in this
place, as fully settled.* * * * *
229.MIGRET IN OBSCURAS &c.—AUT, DUM VITAT &c.]The two faults,
cautioned against, are 1. a too low, or vulgar expression, in the comic
parts; and 2. a too sublime one, in the tragic.The _former_ of these
faults would almost naturally adhere to the first essays of the Roman
satyrs, from the buffoon genius of the old Atellane: and the _latter_,
from not apprehending the true measure and degree of the tragic
mixture.To correct both these, the poet gives the exactest idea of
the satyrs, in the image of a Roman matron, sharing in the mirth of a
religious festival.The occasion obliged to some freedoms: and yet the
dignity of her character demanded a decent reserve.* * * * *
234.NON EGO INORNATA &c.]The scope of these lines may be to regulate
the satyric style, by the idea of its character, before given, in
the allusion to a Roman matron.Conformably to that idea, a plain,
unornamented expression [from v.The three following lines inforce this general application by example.If the exact reader find himself dissatisfied with this gloss, which
seems the only one, the words, as they now stand, will bear, he may,
perhaps, incline to admit the following conjecture, which proposes
to read, instead of _inornata_, _honorata_.I. The context, I think,
requires this change.were, 1. a too low expression, and, 2. a too lofty.Corresponding to
this double charge, the poet having fixed the idea of this species of
composition [v.should naturally be led to apply it to both
points in questions: 1. to the comic part, in prescribing the true
measure of its condescension, and, 2. to the tragic, in settling the
true bounds of its elevation.And this, according to the reading here
offered, the poet doth, only in an inverted order.The sense of the
whole would be this,
1._Non ego_ HONORATA _et dominantia nomina solum
Verbaque, Pisones, satyrorum scriptor amabo_:
_i.John went to the hallway.e._ in the tragic scenes, I would not confine myself to such words
only, as are in honour, and bear rule in tragic, and the most serious
subjects; this stateliness not agreeing to the condescending levity of
the satyr._Nec sic enitar tragico differre colori,
Ut nihil intersit Davusne loquatur, et audax
Pythias, emuncto lucrata Simone talentum,
An custos famulusque Dei Silenus alumni._
_i.e._ nor, on the contrary, in the comic scenes, would I incur the
other extreme of a too plain, and vulgar expression, this as little
suiting its inherent matronlike dignity.this correction
improves the _expression_ as well as the _sense_.For besides the
opposition, implied in the disjunctive, _nec_, which is this way
restored, _dominantia_ hath now its genuine sense, and not that strange
and foreign one forced upon it out of the Greek language.As connected
with _honorata_, it becomes a metaphor, elegantly pursued; and hath too
a singular propriety, the poet here speaking of figurative terms.And
then, for _honorata_ itself, it seems to have been a familiar mode of
expression with Horace.[Illustration]
So Bobs and his mother sat down in a chair by the fire, and she began,--
"A long, long time ago, when I was quite a little girl, I had a great
longing to have a pet lamb."My father owned a farm, and although I had lots of other pets, I was
not content, and still wanted a lamb for my own."'Very well,' said my father, 'you may have a pet lamb, but I am sure
you will get tired of it and never want another.'[Illustration]
"But I did not believe what father said, for I thought nothing could be
so nice as a little woolly lamb."One day we went for a picnic to a lovely valley where a beautiful
waterfall leaped and dimpled in the sunlight, and then fell down, down,
down hundreds of feet into the river below."Father and I were standing on a rock watching this waterfall and
thinking how lovely it looked, when, all at once, I saw something that
made me jump.I cried; 'there is something lying in the pool
below."'Why, I do believe it is a sheep,' said father.'You stay just there,
and I will go nearer and see.'"'O father, it _is_ a sheep,' I cried, 'and there is its little lamb.'And I pointed to a ledge of rock where a tiny lamb was standing
nibbling at some green leaves on a tree that grew by the water-side."Every few moments it bleated most piteously, and looked all round for
its mother."But never again would it hear her bleat, for there, in the deep pool
at the foot of the waterfall, she was lying drowned."'O father,' I cried in great distress, 'what if the poor lamb should
fall in too?'"But father had gone to try to save it."Down, down he went, slipping and sliding on the wet rocks."At last he reached the lamb, and, putting it on his shoulder, he began
to climb up the steep rocks to a place of safety."After much hard and dangerous climbing, he came back to me and said,--
"'Now, my little girl, you have got your wish at last, for here is a
lamb, and you must take care of it until it is old enough to look after
itself.'"How pleased I was, although I felt very sad when I thought of the poor
sheep that had fallen into the water and lost its life."Well, we took the lamb home, and very soon it got to know me quite
well."It would come running to me as soon as I called, and would drink milk
out of a bottle in a very funny way.[Illustration]
"But oh, it _was_ a mischief; and Jane, the kitchen maid, used to be
very angry when it came trotting into her kitchen on wet days and
dirtied the floor with its feet."One day Jane had made the chickens' food all ready, and put it in a
pail, and placed it outside the door to cool."The chickens were all waiting for their meal and feeling very hungry.Jane went to the door for the food, and to her surprise and horror she
found the pail upset and not a bit of food left.[Illustration]
"'Bother that lamb!''It has gone and eaten up all the
chickens' food.'"And just then we saw the lamb trotting off to the field quite content."At last it grew to be a very big sheep--too big to come trotting into
the farm kitchen, for it was so strong and bumped against Jane so much
that she would often chase it out with a broom."Then father said it must go into the field and stay there for good.[Illustration]
"'I am glad,' said Jane, when she heard about it; 'I hope we shall
never have another pet lamb.'"But I did not think so, for I loved it very much."Long afterwards, when I went to the field, it would come running to me
when I called."So that was how I got my pet lamb," said Bobs's mother."I wish _I_ lived in the
country."[Illustration]
_The Sparrow Hawks._
"=George=, George!called Frank as he went through the
wood.I can't see you," shouted Frank at the top of his voice."I am here, up a tree," said George.said Frank as he spied George's fat
legs through the branches of a tree."I shall be down in a minute," said George, "and I will tell you."Presently George came scrambling down so quickly that Frank thought he
would be sure to fall.[Illustration]
But George was not afraid of this, for had he not been used to climbing
trees all his life |
bathroom | Where is John? | But then, you see, George lived in the country, and
Frank had only come to stay with him for his summer holiday.And what a surprise this holiday was to Frank, who lived in a town
where he could not see the green fields nor hear the birds sing![Illustration]
"Frank," said George in a whisper, "there is a hawk's nest up that
tree.""Yes," answered George, "but I could not get close to it; I must try
again to-morrow."The next day being fine, George and Frank hurried to the wood.They
soon came to the tree where the nest was, and George began to climb.Up, up, he went, higher and higher, until Frank could not see him any
more, for it was a very high tree."I have found it," shouted George, "and there are young ones in it.""I _should_ like to see it.""I will try," answered George, "but they are very savage."However, George managed to get hold of one of the young hawks, and he
started to come down the tree once more.It was not so easy to climb
down this time, and he had many scratches and bruises before he reached
the ground again.said George; "this is a young hawk."And he held it out for
Frank to see.It was very pretty but very angry, and it had given George some hard
pecks, so that his fingers were bleeding.Well, George and Frank took the young hawk home and put it into a cage.Now, I think these two boys were very cruel to rob the nest; but if you
read the rest of this story you will see what happened.The next day Frank said to George, "I wish I had another hawk to take
home to my brother Fred.So, sad to say, George climbed the tree again, and took out of the
nest another bird, and they put it into the cage beside its mate.The next week Frank went back to town, for he had spent a long holiday,
and it was now time to go back to school.What must have been the feelings of the poor hawks when they found
themselves shut up in a cage and taken away in the train to a smoky
town?Fred was delighted when he saw them, although he was rather afraid to
go near them, for they ruffled their feathers and looked so angry if
any one attempted to touch them.[Illustration]
So the poor birds were put in an outhouse, and given raw meat to eat,
and very miserable they looked.After a few days Frank began to wish that he had never asked George to
take them from their nest.You see, after Fred had seen them there was
no more fun, and Frank thought that they might die if they were shut up
for a long time in a cage."Fred," said Frank, "what do _you_ think we should do with these birds?""Well," said Fred, "I think we ought to take them into the country and
set them free again."shouted Frank; "that is just what I was thinking.So Frank and Fred covered up the cage, and off they went.I think the sparrow hawks must have been saying to each other, "Oh dear
me!What are they going to do with us now?"After a very, very long walk the two boys came to the green fields.They were very tired and hot and dusty, so Frank said, "Oh, let us open
the cage now, for I cannot go any further."[Illustration]
But Fred answered, "There is a wood not far away.Let us go there, and
then the birds will feel more at home."So they went on until they came to the wood.Frank took the cover off
the cage, and Fred opened the door.The hawks looked out for a few seconds, and then made one dash for
liberty.They mounted higher and higher, and then soared away out of sight.Frank looked at Fred, and Fred looked at Frank, and then both together
they said,--
"I am glad they are free.""I wonder where they will go," said Fred.[Illustration]
But they never knew, for the birds were never seen again.John went to the kitchen.Frank and Fred were two happy boys as they trudged back to town again.Never, never again will they keep a hawk in prison, or indeed any other
free and happy bird of the woods._Jacko._
"=Oh=, look, look!"cried Tony; "here are some real live bears."said Elsie, as she came running round the corner."Oh, what
funny-looking things they are!"It was a fine day in June, and Tony and Elsie had come with their
mother to see all the animals at the Zoo.And what a jolly time they were having!When they had paid their money and passed through the turnstile, the
first thing they saw was a strange-looking bird perched on a branch
beside a seat where one of the keepers was sitting.[Illustration]
"_That_ is not a real bird," said Tony."It is only put there to make
fun of people."Just then it turned its head right round and stared steadily at Tony."It is an owl," said the keeper, "and there are a lot more in the cages
there."So Tony and Elsie went on and saw the rest of the owls.Next, they came to the parrot house.said a voice so close to Elsie that it made her jump."It is only a parrot," said Tony, laughing; "he _can_ talk."There were parrots outside too, swinging on perches, and they looked
very beautiful in the sunlight.Then Tony, Elsie, and mother went on and on and saw all kinds of
animals.They had a ride on an elephant, and when it was time to get
off, mother was standing with a bag of buns in her hand, and before she
could speak Jumbo had put out his trunk and taken one.[Illustration]
Inside the elephant house was another Jumbo, and when they told him to
dance he went round and round in his cage in the most comical manner.Then he opened his mouth wide for Tony to throw a bun into it.Well, well, what heaps of things there were to see!At last Tony and
Elsie came to the bears.And there, sitting in a cage, was a lovely brown bear.So he threw a piece of bun to him, and he caught it in his paw.Then
mother said, "Sit up, then;" and greatly to their surprise the bear
sat up on his hind legs and begged."Now," said Elsie, "I should like to see the monkeys.""Come on, then," cried Tony; "I'll race you."Just inside the door of the monkey house was a great big monkey sitting
all alone in his cage.said Elsie; "isn't he ugly?"Up got the monkey, and picking up a
handful of gravel, threw it at Elsie.You see the monkey did not like being called names, and was very much
hurt.Well, there were all kinds of monkeys--big monkeys and little
monkeys--running and climbing about their cages.Tony gave them nuts
and pieces of carrot, and one sly old monkey took his share and hid it
in a corner under the straw."I do wish I had a monkey, all for my very own," said Tony, as they
went home that day."I do not think _I_ should like one."The next day Tony and Elsie had been playing in the garden, and as they
were coming into the house Tony spied a queer-looking bundle in the
corner of the door-way."Look, Elsie; why, I do declare it is a
_monkey_.""Poor little thing, how he does shake!"they both called out, "come and see this monkey!""Why, Tony," said mother, "you have got your wish.So Tony picked the monkey up in his arms and took him into the house.They found the poor little thing was suffering from a wounded foot,
and when they had bathed and dressed it they gave it some food.Just then father came in, and when he saw the monkey he said,--
"Hullo!So Elsie told the story whilst father listened."Well," said father, "I think I know where this poor little monkey has
come from.""As I came through the village I saw a man looking for a monkey.He
told me it had run away from him, and he could not afford to lose it,
as it earned a lot of money by doing tricks."[Illustration]
"Well," said Tony, "the man must have been very cruel to it, for it is
very thin and tired.""O father, _don't_ send it back," said Elsie."But I thought _you_ did not like monkeys," said father."Yes, yes, I do," replied Elsie; "I like this one very much.""Then," said father, "I shall ask the man if we may buy him."The next day the man was sent for, and he willingly sold the monkey to
father."For," he said, "Jacko will never do much good now."So Jacko was tenderly cared for and fed, and very soon his foot got all
better, and he began to grow fat.John went to the hallway.[Illustration]
He was very kind to the children, and would play with them, but
sometimes he was very mischievous.One day, when the maid was washing, she went into the garden and found
the clothes all lying about on the grass."Dear me," she said, "I cannot have hung them up right."So she pinned
them up again, and went into the house.Presently, out she came once
more, and what was her surprise to find the clothes all down again!The maid said, "I will put them up again, and this time I will watch."So she pinned the clothes up again, and hid behind the door.Presently, along the garden wall came Jacko.Away he ran along the
clothes-line, picking out all the pegs as he went, and down dropped the
clothes upon the grass.And she threw a bowl of
water at Jacko.But Jacko only made a face at her as he scampered away.So Jacko had recovered his spirits, and was very happy.Let us hope he
will live for many, many years._The Horse that went to Church._
=Maggie= and May had a dear old horse which was a great pet, and its
name was Bobbie.[Illustration]
Now Bobbie was very, very wise, and if I were to tell you all the funny
things he did, why, I should fill this book so that there would not be
room for anything else.Of course, these two little girls lived in the country; for boys and
girls who live in towns very seldom have a horse to play with.[Illustration]
It was harvest time, and the reapers were very busy cutting down the
golden corn and binding it into sheaves.Have you ever been in a harvest field on a summer afternoon?I can tell
you it is delightful, and those of you who have not been there have
missed something very nice indeed.Now every afternoon there was great running to and fro in the farm
kitchen, for Mollie, the cook, was putting into a basket tea, and bread
and butter, and scones, and all sorts of good things for Maggie and May
to take to the workers in the harvest field.At four o'clock the stable boy opened the stable door, and out trotted
Bobbie, saddled; for he, too, was going to the harvest field.Maggie would ride upon his back, and May would carry the basket; and
when the workers saw them coming they would all sit down in a corner of
the field waiting to have tea.[Illustration]
Bobbie knew the road to the field quite well, but, sad to say, he was
very lazy, and would not hurry at all.Then Maggie would drive him
close to the hedge, and pretend she was getting a stick to whip him
with.When she did this he began to trot, and never stopped until he
came to the gate in the field.When tea was over, and all the things were gathered into the basket
again, these two little girls would both get on Bobbie's back, one
behind the other; and he galloped off, for he was thinking to himself,
"Now I am going back to my stable and to a good feed of hay."When all the corn was gathered in and sent away to be made into flour,
Maggie and May went back to school.Bobbie went with them every day,
for it was too far away for little girls to walk.They would both jump upon his back, and with a "Gee-up, Bobbie," off he
trotted.[Illustration]
Every Sunday Bobbie went to church.I do not mean that he went into
church, for I am afraid the seat would not have held him, and he would
have looked rather funny.As soon as the first bell rang, the stable boy harnessed him to the
trap, and round trotted Bobbie to the door of the house.When the second bell began to ring Maggie and May got into the dogcart
and drove off to church.When they got there Bobbie was put into a
stable not far away until the service was over.John travelled to the bathroom.Now one Sunday morning these two little girls could not go to church,
so that Bobbie was not harnessed as usual.Sandra travelled to the kitchen.When the first bell began to ring Maggie said to May, "Listen, May; I
think I hear Bobbie crying for us.There, with his head looking over the stable door, was Bobbie,
whinnying as loudly as he could.cried May; "he is trying to get out."Just then Bobbie gave a great jump over the door, and was trotting off
to church.He went straight to his stall in the stable, and remained there until
the service was over; and when the other horses backed out, Bobbie did
the same, and came home, no doubt feeling that he had done his duty._The Weasel and the Rabbit._
=Freda= and Max were having a holiday in a lovely country town.Every
day they went for a walk, sometimes climbing hills, and at other times
going down by the river.One morning Uncle Jim said,--
"Let us all go down to Hope's Farm and see the farmer, and I may just
fish a little in the river before coming home.""I should love to see
you catch a fish."There were Freda and Max, Uncle Jim, and father and
mother--quite a jolly party.It was a lovely morning, and the banks at the sides of the road were
clad with all kinds of flowers.Freda and Max gathered big bunches, and
Don, the sheep-dog, kept poking his nose into every rabbit hole he came
to.Sometimes he got so far down the hole that only his hind legs were
sticking out.Don was very anxious to catch a rabbit, and sometimes he sat outside
poor bunny's house for quite a long time, with his ears pricked up and
his head on one side, listening.He _did_ catch a rabbit once, but I
will tell you about that some other time.[Illustration]
Well, after Freda and Max and all the others had walked for some
miles, they came to the farm.It stood at the foot of a high hill, and
quite near to the river.Max said how jolly it would be to jump out of bed in the mornings and
fish for trout for breakfast.Uncle Jim saw the farmer, who gave each of them a glass of milk to
drink.It was fresh from the cow and still warm.They all sat down on
the grass before the house to drink it.The sun was shining, and the birds were singing, and Freda said it
would be lovely to sit there for ever and ever.Max said _he_ did not think so.He wanted to go fishing some day like
Uncle Jim.But Freda said, "Of course, Max is only a boy."I am afraid these two children would have begun to quarrel there and
then, had not Uncle Jim cried out,--
"Look!there are some trout jumping out of the water."The river was sparkling in the sunshine, and the
trout were leaping out of it high into the air to catch the flies for
food.Suddenly, it seemed as if the whole world had stopped moving.The birds
ceased their singing, and all was silent.They all sat and looked, and presently, away at the other side of the
broad river, near the edge of the wood, a rabbit came hopping along as
though in great pain.They all watched until it disappeared into the
wood.[Illustration]
"What is the matter with the poor rabbit?"And there, creeping along swiftly and silently, in the very track of
the poor rabbit, was a large weasel.Nearer and nearer the weasel got to the place |
garden | Where is John? | I do hope poor bunny is safe now," cried Freda.But alas, just then a loud scream rang through the wood, and they knew
then that at last the weasel had caught the rabbit.Uncle Jim then waded across the river, and went into the wood to see if
he could find the weasel, but he came back without being able to do so."But how could a small weasel kill a large rabbit?""Well, you see," said Uncle Jim, "when a weasel hunts a rabbit, the
rabbit is so much afraid that it loses all its strength, so that it is
unable to run fast and get to a place of safety.""Then the weasel very soon catches the rabbit and kills it.""I hate weasels," said Freda."Oh, well, you see," said Uncle Jim, "the weasel must get food; and I
know some little people who are very fond of rabbit pie."_The Saucy Squirrels._
"=Do= tell me a true story, auntie," said Maggie one evening.[Illustration]
"Very well," answered auntie."It is just half an hour before bed-time."It must be a true story," said Maggie, "because, you know, we agreed
that bed-time stories must be true.Do you know anything about
squirrels?""Yes, I do," answered auntie, "and I will tell you about them."One day, not very long ago, Auntie Jessie and I went for a walk in
Regent's Park."Now you may remember that this park is quite near to the Zoo, and as
you walk along you can hear the roaring of the lions and the shrieking
of the different animals in their cages not far away."It was a beautiful spring day, and Auntie Jessie and I were sauntering
along one of the walks, when suddenly she said,--
"'Look, look!there is one of the squirrels out of the Zoo!"And there, sitting in the middle of the path before us was a lovely
gray squirrel, with its bushy tail curled up its back."'Ah, how pretty it is,' I cried.'See, it is not a bit afraid!'"Auntie Jessie threw some biscuit to it, and it came close up to us.[Illustration]
"'Why,' I cried, 'I do believe there are some more coming to us.'"And down the trees they came, helter-skelter, along the grass as fast
as they could."'Well,' said Auntie Jessie, 'I had no idea there were squirrels here.''Let us go and buy some nuts and buns for them to
eat.'"'Yes, do,' said Auntie Jessie, and off we went."We came back in a very short time, and when the squirrels saw us they
came scampering along once more."I stood with my back to the railings, and one bold little squirrel
climbed up my back.Then it ran along my arm as I held it out, and took
nuts out of my hand."Then some would climb up my dress, and when I looked up I saw one
saucy little squirrel sitting on Auntie Jessie's shoulder.[Illustration]
"Another one who was not very hungry took a nut and ran along the
grass, scratched away some leaves with his foot, made a little hole,
dropped the nut inside, covered it all up again with the earth and
leaves, and then came back for more."Oh, he was a funny little fellow!You see that was his cupboard, and
he kept all his food there until he was hungry enough to eat it."[Illustration]
"Yes, they were indeed," answered auntie, "and some day I shall take
you there, and you can then feed them yourself."After we had fed the squirrels, it was time for us to come home.As
we were coming along the lane I found something awfully nice."Just as Auntie Jessie and I were coming past the orchard we spied a
black-looking object in the path before us.As we got nearer to it we
found it was a tiny young blackbird.It had flown down from its nest in
the tree, and now it was too afraid to move.[Illustration]
"I took it in my hand, and how its little heart did beat!Then I went into the orchard, and put it in a place of
safety, and it fluttered away."We had not gone very far along the road again when Auntie Jessie gave
a squeal and jumped back."Just then down dropped a young thrush from another tree.But just as I
was going to pick it up it flew across the road.So I left it there, as
it was quite able to take care of itself."And now there is not time to tell you any more to-night, for it is
time to go to bed."[Illustration]
_The Owl in the Dovecot._
"=Father=," said Jack, when he came home from school one day, "I have
had a lesson to-day about the owl."[Illustration]
"Well," said Jack, "the teacher told us how it slept in the day time
and only came out after dusk."Yes I have," answered Jack's father."Come and I will tell you about
it."So Jack sat himself down on the mat before the fire, and father cleared
his throat and began,--
"Once upon a time, when I was a boy like you, I had a little brother,
and his name was Bob."Now Bob and I used to play together, go to school together, go to bed
together--in fact, we did nearly everything together."Bob said one day to his mother, 'Mother, I should _love_ to have some
real doves."So mother said, 'Well, I will help you to get some, but you must save
up all your pennies as well.'"Bob and I saved up our Saturday pennies for a long time.At last, with
mother's help, we had enough to buy some doves.They _were_ pretty, all
white, with rings round their necks.[Illustration]
"I can remember what fun we had putting up the dovecot.We placed it
against the wall of the house, and not far from our bed-room window."Our house was in the country, and when Bob and I were in bed at night
we could hear the owls hooting and crying to one another.It was a
weird sound, and if Bob and I had not known what it was, I think we
should have been very much afraid.But then, you know, it was only the
owls' way of talking to one another."Well, one night, a long time after Bob and I had gone to bed, we heard
a very strange noise."The noise still went on, so Bob said,--
"'Let's get up.I believe the noise is in the dovecot.'"So we both jumped out of bed, and got into our clothes as fast as ever
we could."Bob picked up the candle, and we ran out, and what do you think had
happened?"First of all, we saw the door of the dovecot wide open.Bob had
forgotten to close it for the first time.John went to the kitchen.There, lying dead upon the
floor, was one of our pretty doves."By this time father and mother came rushing out to see what all the
noise was about."They brought a lantern, and we looked inside.The other doves were
trying to hide in the corners, or clinging to the wire-netting in a
great state of fear.[Illustration]
"At last we could see a great dusky owl crouching on a box near the
roof.Its feathers were all ruffled up, and its great black eyes
staring at us as it kept rocking to and fro.John went to the hallway.Then it lay down on its
back and pretended it was dead."All at once it got up in a great rage, struggling, scratching, and
flapping its wings to try to escape."'Let us carry the box to the summer-house,' said Bob."So we took the box out with the owl in it, and carried it to the
summer-house, and left it there for the rest of the night.You see we
wanted to see the owl in daylight."Very, very early in the morning there came another owl to seek its
mate; and when it could not find it, the bird sat upon the roof of the
house and called and called again in very mournful tones for quite a
long time."The next morning Bob and I went straight to the summer-house to see
our captive."It was now quite quiet, and sat on Bob's hand letting him stroke it
gently."'Let us take it to the old tree in the field,' I answered."So Bob put it down near the hollow of the tree, and it shuffled away
into the darkness."And that is the end of the story," said Jack's father."Well, the farmer does not like people to kill owls, as they eat up the
mice that do harm to his corn-fields."[Illustration]
_A True Story of a Canary._
=It= was the day after New Year's Day, and we had all gathered at Uncle
Jim's house to have a tea-party.When I say _we_, I mean Ethel, and
Mabel, and Godfrey, and myself.Of course, Ethel's mother was there, as
well as _her_ uncle and aunt, and altogether we had a lot of people.Now Ida is Ethel's very dear friend, and she lives at the sea-side.She
had to come in the train to get to our party.Uncle Jim has two canaries, and they are such dear little things.One is called Dicky and the other Fluffy.Dicky is a beautiful singer and very proud; he is always preening his
feathers to make himself look nice.She
sometimes tries to imitate Dicky, and all the sound she makes is a
croak.These two little birds are so tame, they come out of their cages and
fly about the room.They sometimes alight on the table and pick up crumbs, and Fluffy will
even hop on to the edge of your plate and steal your dinner.They look
very tiny when they hop about the table.She is always eating, and whenever she
sees a loaf of bread on the table she cheeps and cheeps until she gets
some crumbs.Now when Ida saw these birds she looked very sad.John travelled to the bathroom."Why, Ida," said Godfrey, "you look quite ready to cry."Well," said Ida, "a most dreadful thing happened yesterday.A lady
asked me to take care of her canary while she went away to do some
shopping.I did so, and was teaching it to fly about the room like
Fluffy and Dicky."It was a very valuable bird, and she prized it greatly."In the afternoon I thought I would let it out of its cage.It flew
round the room a few times, and then to my horror it went straight into
the fire.There was just a little squeak, and it was gone."The bright fire had attracted this little bird, and now Ida did not
know how she would tell the owner when she came back for her pet.So this is a warning to all little boys and girls who have birds to
keep--to be sure to put a guard before the fire before letting them out
of their cages.+Transcriber's Notes+
1.Variations of spelling and hyphenation are as in the original.The text version is coded for italics and the like mark-ups i.e.,
a) italics are indicated thus _italic_;
b) small caps are indicated thus =small-caps=;
c) strong/bold text is indicated thus +strong+
d) Images in the book are indicated as [Illustration] at
the respective place, between paragraphs.Browne has consented to go for an officer."As I felt sure
she must have thought Maitland already knew this, as anyone else must
have heard what had passed, I looked upon her remark as a polite way of
saying:
"I am mistress here."Maitland apparently so regarded it, for he replied quickly: "I hope you
will not think me officious, or unmindful of your right to dictate in a
matter so peculiarly your own affair.Browne's departure would still further complicate a case already far
to difficult of solution.My legal training has given me some little
experience in these matters, and I only wish that you may have the
benefit thereof.It is now nearly three-quarters of an hour since your
father's death, and, I assure you, time at this particular juncture may
be of the utmost importance.Not a moment should be wasted in needless
discussion.If you will consent to despatch a servant to the police
station I will, in due time, explain to you why I have taken the liberty
of being so insistent on this point."He had hardly ceased speaking before Gwen rang for a servant.She
hurriedly told him what had transpired and sent him to the nearest
police station.As this was but a few rods away and the messenger was
fleet of foot, an officer was soon upon the scene."We were able," he
said to us generally as he entered the room, "to catch Medical Examiner
Ferris by 'phone at his home in F-- Street, and he will be here
directly.In the meantime I have been sent along merely to see that the
body is not moved before his examination and that everything in the room
remains exactly as it was at the time of the old gentleman's death.Did
I not understand," he said to Maitland in an undertone, "that there is a
suspicion of foul play?""Yes," replied George, "that is one explanation which certainly will
have to be considered.""I thought I heard the Cap'n say'murder' when he 'phoned in town for
some specials.They're for detective work on this case, I reckon."Ah, Doctor," he said extending his hand to me, "what have we here?"Before I could answer he had noticed Maitland and advanced to shake
hands with him."Is this indeed so serious as I have been told?"he asked, after his
greeting."It seems to me likely," replied Maitland slowly, "to develop into the
darkest mystery I have ever known.""Has the body been moved or the disposition
of its members altered?"Sandra travelled to the kitchen."Not since I arrived," replied Officer Barker.I have made a few notes and
measurements, but I have disturbed nothing," replied Maitland."May I see those notes before I go?You were
on that Parker case and you have, you know, something of a reputation
for thoroughness.Perhaps you may have noted something that would escape
me.""The notes, Doctor, are at your service," George replied.Ferris' examination of the body was very thorough, yet, since it was
made with the rapid precision which comes from extended practice, it was
soon over.Short as it was, however, it was still an ordeal under which
Gwen suffered keenly, to judge from her manner.The Examiner then took Maitland aside, looked at his notes, and
conversed earnestly with him in an undertone for several minutes.I do
not know what passed between them.When he left, a few moments later,
Officer Barker accompanied him.As soon as the door closed behind them Gwen turned to Maitland.she asked with a degree of interest which
surprised me."He will report death as having resulted from causes at present
unknown," rejoined Maitland.John journeyed to the garden.Gwen seemed greatly relieved by this answer, though I confess I was
utterly at a loss to see why she should be.Observing this change in her manner Maitland approached her, saying:
"Will you now permit me to explain my seeming rudeness in interfering
with your plan to make Mr.Browne your messenger, and at the same time
allow me to justify myself in the making of yet another request?"Gwen bowed assent and he proceeded to state the following case as coolly
and accurately as if it were a problem in geometry.Darrow," he began, "has just died under peculiar circumstances.Three possible views of the case at once suggest themselves.First: his
death may have been due to natural causes and his last expressions the
result of an hallucination under which he was labouring.Second: he may
have committed suicide, as the result, perhaps, of a mania which in that
case would also serve to explain his last words and acts; or,--you
will pardonSandra went back to the bedroom. |
bedroom | Where is Sandra? | The officers you have
summoned will not be slow in looking for motives for such a deception,
and several possible ones cannot fail at once to suggest themselves to
them.Third: your father may have been murdered and his last expressions
a more or less accurate description of the real facts of the case.It
seems to me that these three theories exhaust the possibilities of the
case.Herne with portly deliberation, "that all
deaths must be either natural or unnatural; and equally clear that when
unnatural the agent, if human, must be either the victim himself, or
some person external to him.""Precisely so," continued Maitland."Now our friend, the Doctor,
believes that Mr.The
official authorities will at first, in all probability, agree with him,
but it is impossible to tell what theory they will ultimately adopt.If
sufficient motive for the act can be found, some are almost certain to
adopt the suicide theory.Miss Darrow has expressed her conviction that
we are dealing with a case of murder.Herne have
expressed no opinion on the subject, so far as I am aware."At this point Gwen, with an eagerness she had not before displayed,--or
possibly it was nervousness,--exclaimed: "And your own view of the
case?""I believe," Maitland replied deliberately, "that your father's
death resulted from poison injected into the blood; but this is a matter
so easily settled that I prefer not to theorise upon it.There are
several poisons which might have produced the effects we have observed.If, however, I am able to prove this conjecture correct I have still
only eliminated one of the three hypotheses and resolved the matter to
a choice between the suicide and murder theories, yet that is something
gained.It is because I believe it can be shown death did not result
from natural causes that I have so strongly urged Mr.ejaculated Browne, growing very dark and threatening."You mean to insinuate--" "Nothing," continued Maitland, finishing his
sentence for him, and then quietly ignoring the interruption."As I have
already said, I am somewhat familiar with the usual methods of ferreting
out crime.As a lawyer, and also as a chemical expert, I have listened
to a great deal of evidence in criminal cases, and in this and other
ways, learned the lines upon which detectives may confidently be
expected to act, when once they have set up an hypothesis.The means
by which they arrive at their hypotheses occasionally surpass all
understanding, and we have, therefore, no assurance as to the view they
will take of this case.The first thing they will do will be to make
what they will call a 'thorough examination' of the premises; but a
study of chemistry gives to the word 'thorough' a significance of which
they have no conception.It is to shorten this examination as much
as possible,--to prevent it from being more tiresome to you than is
absolutely necessary," he said to Gwen, "that I have taken the liberty
of ascertaining and recording most of the data the officers will
require.""Believe me," Gwen said to him in an undertone not intended for the rest
of us, though we heard it, "I am duly grateful for your consideration
and shall find a fitting time to thank you."With no other reply than a deprecating gesture, Maitland continued:
"Now let us look at the matter from the standpoint of the officers.They
must first determine in their own minds how Mr.This will constitute the basis of their first hypothesis.I say 'first'
because they are liable to change it at any moment it seems to them
untenable.If they conclude that death resulted from natural causes, I
shall doubtless be able to induce them to waive that view of the case
until I have been given time to prove it untenable--if I can--and to act
for the present upon one of the other two possible theories.It appears,
from our present knowledge of the case, that, whichever one of these
they choose, the same difficulty will confront them."John went to the kitchen.Gwen looked at him inquiringly and he continued, answering the question
in her eyes:
"This is what I mean.John went to the hallway.Your father, whether he committed suicide or
was murdered, in all probability met his death through that almost
imperceptible wound under his chin.This wound, so far as I have yet
been able to examine it without a glass, was made with a somewhat blunt
instrument, able, apparently, to little more than puncture the skin and
draw a drop or so of blood.Of course, on such a theory, death must have
resulted from poisoning.The essential point is: Where is the instrument
that inflicted the wound?""Might it not be buried in the flesh?""Possibly, but as I have not been able to find it I cannot believe it
very likely, though closer search may reveal it," replied Maitland."Your father's right forefinger," he continued, "is slightly stained
with blood, but the wound is of a nature which could not have been
caused by a finger nail previously poisoned.Since we know he pressed
his hand to his throat this blood-stain makes no more strongly toward
the truth of the suicide theory than it does toward that of the murder
hypothesis.Suppose now, for we must look at all sides of the question,
the officers begin to act upon the assumption that murder has been
committed.They will satisfy themselves that
the east window was opened six and three-quarters inches and securely
fastened in that position; that the two south windows were closed
and fastened and that the blinds thereof were also closed.They will
ascertain the time when death occurred,--we can easily tell them,--and
this will show them that neither of the blinds on the south side could
have been opened without so increasing the light in the room as to be
sure to attract our attention.They will learn also that the folding
doors were locked, as they are now, on this side and that these two
gentlemen [indicating Browne and Herne] sat against them.They will then
turn to the hall door as the only possible means of entrance and I shall
tell them that the Doctor and I sat directly in front of this door and
between it and Mr.I have taken the liberty to cut the carpet to
mark the positions of our chairs.In view of all these facts what must
they conclude?Simply this: no one entered the room, did the deed, and
then left it, at least not without being observed.""But surely," I
ventured to suggest, "you do not think they will presume to question the
testimony of all of us that no one was observed.""That is all negative evidence," he replied, "and does not conclusively
prove that another might not have observed what we failed to detect.However, it is all so self-evident that they will not question it.I
know so well their methods of reasoning that I am already prepared to
refute their conclusions at every point, without, I regret to say, being
myself able to solve the mystery, though I may say in passing that I
purposely am refraining from formulating any theory whatever until I
have ascertained everything which it is possible to learn in the matter.In this way I hope to avoid the error into which the detective is so
prone to fall.Once you set up an hypothesis you unconsciously, and in
spite of yourself, accentuate unduly the importance of all data making
toward that hypothesis, while, on the other hand you either utterly
neglect, misconstrue, or fail to fully appreciate, the evidence
oppugnant to your theory.In chemical research I gather the material for
an entire series of experiments before performing any, so that the first
few shall not, either by satisfying or discouraging me, cause me to
leave the bush half beaten."Let us see how, from the officers' standpoint, the murder hypothesis
now stands.No assassin, it will be clear to them, could have entered or
left this room unobserved.If, therefore, a man did enter the room and
kill our friend, we, all of us, must be his accomplices."This remark
drew some sort of exclamatory protest from every other person in the
room save Browne."Ah, that is probably the true solution," said the artist with
ill-concealed disgust.This remark and the tone in which it was uttered would have been
discourteous under any circumstances; at this particular time and in the
painful situation in which we all found ourselves it was boorish almost
beyond endurance.There was nothing in Maitland's manner to indicate that he had heard
Browne's remark, as he quietly continued:
"You see this cold-blooded view, the mere statement of which causes you
all to shudder,--the more so because one of our number is the daughter
of the dead man,--is not to be entertained a moment and is only
mentioned to show the logical chain which will force the officers into
the certain conviction that no assassin did enter or leave this room.First, the
murderer may have done the deed without entering.If so, it is clear
that he must have made use of the partly-opened window.This seems so
likely that they will seize upon it with avidity.At first they will
suggest that the assassin reached in at the window and struck his victim
as he sat by it.This, they will urge, accounts for our not finding the
weapon, and they will be so sure that this is the correct solution of
the problem that I shall probably have to point out to them its patent
absurdity.This illustrates the danger of forming an hypothesis from
imperfect data.Darrow did not sit by the window,
but eight feet three and one-half inches from it, in almost the exact
centre of the room, and their theory falls to the ground, only to be
hastily replaced, as a drowning man catches at a straw, by a slightly
varied theory.John travelled to the bathroom.If the victim sat that distance from the window, they
will inform us, it is clear the murderous implement must have been
thrown or shot at him by the assassin."Herne, "though I had not thought of that theory it
seems to me so plausible, now that you mention it, that I think the
officers will show rare acumen if they adopt it.Very properly may they
hold that some projectile might have been shot through the partly opened
window and none of us have detected the act.""Ah, yes," rejoined Maitland; "but when I ask them where this implement
is under this assumption, and remind them of what I shall already have
told them, viz., that Mr.Darrow sat back to the window as well as
over eight feet from it, and sat in a chair, the solid back of which
extended, like a protecting shield, fully six inches above the top of
his head, they will find it difficult to show how, unless projectiles
travel in sharp curves or angles, a man in this position could thus
receive a wound directly beneath his chin, a wound so slight as not to
penetrate the thyroid cartilage immediately under it."The abandonment of this hypothesis will force them to relinquish the
idea that the murder was committed from without.They must either give up altogether the idea
of murder, or have recourse to what is known as the theory of exclusive
opportunity.""Theory of exclusive opportunity," repeated Gwen, as a puzzled look
overspread her countenance."I--I fear I do not quite understand what
you mean.""Pardon me, Miss Darrow, for not making my meaning clearer to you,"
said Maitland with a deferential inclination of the head.Sandra travelled to the kitchen.John journeyed to the garden."The theory
of exclusive opportunity, to state it plainly in this case, means simply
this: if Mr.Darrow were murdered, some one of us five, we being the
only ones having an opportunity to do the deed, must be the assassin.Whether this view be taken, or that of suicide, it becomes of paramount
importance to find the weapon.Do you not now see why I objected to
having anyone leave the room?If, as appears likely from my search, the
weapon is not to be found, and if, as I feel reasonably certain, either
the suicide or the murder theory be substantiated, then, anyone who left
the room before official search was made would be held to have taken
the weapon with him and disposed of it, because his would have been the
exclusive opportunity of so doing.Someone must have disposed of it,
and no one else had a chance to do so; that would be the way it would
be stated.But, since no one of us has left the room, a thorough search
both of it and of our persons, must convince the officers that we,
at least, are not responsible for the fact that the weapon is not
forthcoming."Maitland paused and looked at Browne as if he expected him to speak, but
that gentleman only shut his square jaws the more firmly together and
held his peace,--at least in so far as words were concerned.If looks,
like actions, "speak louder than words," this black visage with its two
points of fire made eloquent discourse.I charged all this display of
malice to jealousy.It is not altogether pleasant to be placed at a
disadvantage before the one being whose good opinion one prizes above
all things else,--that is to say, I have read that such is the case.I
do not consider my own views upon such matters expert testimony.In all
affairs of the heart my opinions cease to have weight at exactly the
point where that organ ceases to be a pump.Sandra went back to the bedroom.Even Gwen, I think, noticed Browne's determined silence, for she said to
Maitland:
"I am very grateful that your forethought prevented me from causing Mr.Browne even temporary annoyance by making him my messenger."She paused a moment and then continued:
"You were speaking of the officers' theories.Mary moved to the hallway.When they have convinced
themselves that no one of us has removed the weapon, what then?""In my opinion," said Maitland, "they will ultimately fall back upon
the suicide theory, but they must find the weapon here before they can
substantiate it; for if it be not here someone must have taken it away
and that someone could have only been the one who used it--the assassin,
in short--but here are the officers.Let each one of us insist upon
being searched.They can send to the station for a woman to search you,"
he said in an undertone to Gwen and then added: "I trust you will
pardon my suggesting a course which, in your case, seems so utterly
unnecessary, but, believe me, there are urgent reasons for it which I
can explain later.If we would hope to solve this mystery, everything
depends upon absolute thoroughness at this juncture.""I should evince but poor appreciation," Gwen replied, "of the
ability you have already shown should I fail to follow your slightest
suggestion.It is all I can offer you by way of thanks for the kind
interest you have taken."The return of Officer Barker, accompanied by three other men, now
changed the tide of conversation.Maitland advanced and shook hands
with one whom he introduced as Mr.Osborne, and this gentleman in turn
introduced his brother officer, a Mr.Mary went to the bedroom.Allen, and M. Godin, a special
detective.Osborne impressed me as a man of only mediocre ability, thoroughly
imbued with the idea that he is exceptionally clever.He spoke loudly
and, I thought, a bit ostentatiously, yet withal in a manner so frank
and hearty that I could not help liking the fellow.M. Godin, on the contrary, seemed retiring almost to the point of
self-abnegation.He said but little, apparently preferring to keep
in the background, where he could record his own observations in his
note-book without too frequent interruption.His manner was polished
in the extreme, and so frank withal that he seemed to me like a man of
glass through whom every thought shone unhindered.I wondered how
one who seemed powerless to conceal his own emotions should possess
a detective's ability to thread his way through the dark and hidden
duplicity of crime.When he spoke it was in a low, velvety, and soothing
voice, that fell upon the ear with an irresistible charm.When Osborne
would make some thoughtless remark fraught with bitterness for Gwen,
such an expression of pain would flit across M. Godin's fine face as
one occasionally sees in those highly organised and sympathetic
natures,---usually found among women if a doctor's experience may be
trusted,--which catch the throb of another's hurt, even as adjacent
strings strive to sing each other's songs.M. Godin seemed to me more priest than detective.His clean-shaven face,
its beautifully chiselled features suffused with that peculiar pallor
which borrows the transparency of marble |
garden | Where is Mary? | I remember saying to
myself: "What a rival he would make in a woman's affections!"At just that time he was looking at Gwen with tender, solicitous
sympathy written in every feature, and that doubtless suggested my
thought.I do not presume to judge his real merits, for I did not
notice him sufficiently to properly portray him to you, even if I had
the gift of description, which I think you will admit I have not.He
lives in my memory only as a something tall, spare, coarse of texture,
red, hairy, and redolent of poor tobacco.While Osborne,
like a good-natured bumble-bee, was buzzing noisily about, as though
all the world were his clover-blossom; and Allen, so far as I know, was
doing nothing; M. Godin, alert and keen despite his gentleness and a
modesty which kept him for the most part unobtrusively in the shadow of
his chosen corner, was writing rapidly in a note-book and speaking
no word.Clearly he was there
to enlighten himself rather than others.At length, pausing to make a
measurement, he noticed my gaze and said to me in an undertone, as he
glanced solicitously at Gwen lest she should hear:
"Pardon me, but did any of you observe anything, at or about the time
of Mr.Darrow's death, which impressed you as singular,--any noise, any
shadow, any draught or change of temperature, say a rushing or I might
say swishing sound,--anything, in fact, that would seem to you as at all
unusual?""Everything seemed perfectly normal and
commonplace."I felt sure M. Godin had had a theory and that my testimony had not
strengthened it, but he did not volunteer any information, neither did
he take part in the conversation of his companions, and so my curiosity
remained ungratified.John went to the kitchen.It was clear that M. Godin's methods were very
different from those of Osborne and Allen.I need not weary you by further narrating what occurred at this official
examination.Suffice it to say that, with one or two minor exceptions,
Osborne and Allen followed the precise course of reasoning prophesied
by Maitland, and, as for M. Godin, he courteously, but firmly, held his
peace.The two officers did not, however, lean as strongly to the theory
that death resulted from natural causes as Maitland had anticipated,
and, I think, this surprised him.He had already told them that
he expected to be able to show death to have resulted from poison
hypodermically applied, and, as I overheard a remark made by Osborne
to Allen, I readily understood their speedy abandonment of their
natural-death theory.They were engaged in verifying Maitland's
measurement of the east side of the room when Osborne said softly to his
companion: "He has figured in several of my cases as a chemical expert,
and when he expresses an opinion on a matter it's about the same as
proved.He's not the kind that jumps in the dark.He's a lawyer as well
as chemist and knows what's evidence, so I reckon we'd better see if we
can make anything out of the suicide and murder theories."John went to the hallway.Maitland had asked them to send to the station for a woman to search
Gwen and she had just arrived.John travelled to the bathroom.We all requested that a most thorough
examination should now be made to assure the officers that no one of us
possessed the missing weapon.This done, the officers and departed for
the night, assuring Gwen that there was nothing further to be done till
morning, and Osborne, doubtless with a view to consoling her, said: "It
may be a relief to you, miss, to know that there is scarcely a doubt
that your father took his own life."This had an effect upon Gwen very
different from that which had been intended.Her face contracted, and it
was plain to see she was beginning to think everyone was determined to
force a falsehood upon her.Herne and Browne also prepared to take their
leave.A glance from Maitland told me he wished me to remain with him a
moment after the others had departed, and I accordingly did so.When we were alone with Gwen he said to her: "I think I understand your
feeling with regard to Mr.Osborne's remark, as well as your conviction
that it does not represent the truth.I foresaw they would come to this
conclusion, and know very well the pains they will take to prove their
hypothesis.""It is
that of which I wish to speak," he replied."If you have sufficient
confidence in me to place the case in my hands, I will do everything in
my power to establish the truth,--on one condition," and he glanced
at her face, now pale and rigid from her long-continued effort of
self-control."That you
follow my directions and permit me to order your movements in all
things, so long as the case remains in my hands; if at any time I seek
to abuse your faith, you are as free to discharge me as if I were a paid
detective."Gwen looked searchingly at him; then, extending her hand to
him, she said impulsively: "You are very kind; I accept the condition.I tried to catch Maitland's eye to tell him what he should counsel her,
but a man with his ability to observe conditions and grasp situations
can very well do without prompting.Sandra travelled to the kitchen.John journeyed to the garden."First," he said, "you must return
home with the Doctor and spend the rest of the night with his sister;
I shall stay here until morning; and second, I desire that you use your
utmost endeavour to keep the incidents of this evening out of your mind.You cannot, of course, forget your loss, unless you sleep,"--and he gave
me a look which said: "I depend on you to see to that,"--"but you must
not continually re-enact the scene in imagination, In the morning the
Doctor will come here to bring me my camera, microscope, and a few
things I shall require "--and he passed me a list he had written."If you have slept well you can be of considerable service, and may
accompany him--if not, you must remain quietly at his house."With
this he turned to me, and said: "She is making a condenser of herself,
Doctor, and will soon break through the insulation.Sparks will be
dangerous--you must secure the brush effect."He spoke quickly, and
used electrical terms, that she might not understand him, but either
he failed of his purpose, or the observation she immediately made was
a strange coincidence.I believe she understood, for, while young
women educated by their mothers are usually ignorant upon all the more
masculine subjects, those who have long been their father's companions
are ever prone to startle one with the most unexpected flashes of
intelligence."I am in rather a high state of tension now," she said,
turning calmly to Maitland; "but when alone the expression which
has been denied me here will afford relief."Maitland glanced at
her quickly, and then at me, and I knew he was wondering if she had
understood.Then he said: "It is getting late.I shall expect you to
sleep well and to come in the morning.Please say to the servants as you
go that I shall stay here all night, and that no one must enter without
permission.Sandra went back to the bedroom.She held out her hand to him, but made no
reply; then she fervently kissed her father's lips, and together we left
the chamber of death.CHAPTER IV
Death speaks with the tongue of Memory, and his ashen hand reaches
out of the great unknown to seize and hold fast our plighted souls.What Maitland's reason was for spending the night with the dead body of
Darrow, or how he busied himself until morning, I do not know.Perhaps
he desired to make sure that everything remained untouched, or, it may
be, that he chose this method of preventing Gwen from performing a vigil
by the body.Mary moved to the hallway.I thought this latter view very probable at the time, as
I had been singularly impressed with the remarkable foresight my
friend had displayed in so quickly and adroitly getting Gwen away from
everything connected with her father's sad and mysterious death.Arriving at my house my sister took an early opportunity to urge upon
Gwen a glass of wine, in which I had placed a generous sedative.The
terrible tension soon began to relax, and in less than half an hour she
was sleeping quietly.I dreaded the moment when she should awake and the
memory of all that had happened should descend like an avalanche upon
her.I told my sister that this would be a critical moment, cautioning
her to stay by Gwen and to give her, immediately upon her arising,
a draught I had prepared for the purpose of somewhat deadening her
sensibilities.I arose early, and went to Maitland's laboratory to
collect the things he desired.When I returned Gwen was awake, and to
my intense gratification in even a better condition than I had dared to
hope.It was quite late when we reached her house, and Maitland had evidently
been at work several hours.He looked sharply at Gwen when she
entered, and seemed much pleased at her condition."You have obeyed
my instructions, I see, and slept," he said, as he gave her his hand.Mary went to the bedroom."Yes," she replied, "I was very tired, and the doctor's cordial quite
overcame me;" and she cast an inquiring glance at the network of white
string which Maitland had stretched across the carpet, dividing it into
squares like an immense checker-board.In reply to her questioning look,
he said: "French detectives are the most thorough in the world, and I am
about to make use of their method of instituting an exhaustive search.Each one of the squares formed by these intersecting strings is
numbered, and represents one square foot of carpet, the numbers running
from one to two hundred and eighty-eight.Every inch of every one of
these squares I shall examine under a microscope, and anything found
which can be of any possible interest will be carefully preserved, and
its exact location accurately marked upon this chart I have prepared,
which, as you will see, has the same number of squares as the room, the
area of each square being reduced from one square foot to one square
inch.You will note that I have already marked the location of all
doors, windows, and furniture.The weapon, if there be one, may be very
minute, but if it be on the floor we may be assured the microscope will
find it.The walls of the room, especially any shelving projections, and
the furniture, I shall examine with equal thoroughness, though I have
now some additional reasons for believing the weapon is not here."Gwen exclaimed, unable to control
the excitement caused by this last remark."You must pardon me,"
Maitland rejoined, "if I ask you and the Doctor a question before
replying."She nodded assent, and he continued: "I wish to know if you
agree with me that we shall be more likely to arrive at a solution of
the problem before us if we keep our own counsel than if we take
the officers of the law, or, for that matter, anyone else, into our
confidence.Mary went back to the garden.You undoubtedly noticed how carefully M. Godin kept his own
counsel.Official methods, and the hasty generalisations which form a
part thereof--to say nothing of the petty rivalries and the passion for
notoriety--can do much to hinder our own work, and, I believe, nothing
to help it."That we keep our work to ourselves," Gwen
quickly rejoined, and I signified that I was of the same opinion."Then," Maitland continued, "I may say this in answer to your question.I have ascertained something which may bear upon the case in hand.You
will remember that part of the gravel for redressing the croquet ground
was dumped under the east window there.The painters, I learn, finished
painting that side of the house yesterday forenoon before the gravel was
removed and placed upon the ground, so that any footprints they may have
made in it while about their work were obliterated.As you see, there
was loose gravel left under the window to the depth of about two
inches.I carefully examined this gravel this morning--there were no
footprints."I glanced at Gwen; her face had a set expression, and she was deathly
pale."There were, however," he continued, "places where the gravel
had been tamped down as if by the pressure of a rectangular board.I
examined these minutely and, by careful measurement and close scrutiny
of some peculiar markings suggestive of the grain of wood, satisfied
myself that the depressions in the gravel were made by two, and not, as
I had at first thought, by one small piece of wood.I found further that
these two boards had always borne certain relative relations to each
other, and that when one had been turned around the other had undergone
a similar rotation.This last is, in my mind, a most important point,
for, when coupled with the fact that between any two impressions of the
same board the distance was sensibly constant, and was that of a short
stride, there could be no reasonable doubt but these boards had been
worn upon some person's feet.They could not have been thrown down
merely to be stepped upon, for, in that case, they would not have borne
fixed relations to each other--probably would not have been turned end
for end at all--and certainly, both would not always have happened to
get turned at the same time.I procured a board of the combined area
of the two supposed to have made the impressions in the gravel, and
weighted it down until, as nearly as I could measure, it impacted the
soil to the same extent the others had.The weight was one hundred and
thirty-five pounds, which is about right for a man five feet five inches
tall.The position of the depressions in the gravel indicated a stride
just about right for a man of that height."There was one other most important discovery which I made after I
had divided the impressions into two classes--according as they were
produced by the right or left board--which was that when the right foot
was thrown forward the stride was from three to four inches longer
than when the left foot led.Directly under the window there was a deep
impression in the sand.I took a plaster cast of it, and here it is," he
said, producing an excellent facsimile of a closed hand."There can
be little doubt," he continued, "from the position occupied by the
depression, of which this is a reverse copy, that it was either
accidentally made by someone who, stooping before the east window to
avoid obstructing its light, suddenly lost his balance and regained his
equilibrium by thus thrusting out his hand, or--and this seems far more
likely to me--that the hand was deliberately placed in the gravel
in order to steady its possessor while he performed some peculiar
operation."At this point I ventured to ask why he regarded the latter view as
so much more tenable than the former."There are several reasons," he
replied, "which render the view I prefer to take all but certain.First,
the impression was made by the left hand.Second, it is the impression
of a closed hand, with the upper joints of the fingers undermost.Did
you ever know one to save himself from falling by thrusting out a closed
hand?There is a certain amount of fear, however slight,
invariably associated with losing one's balance.This sentiment, so far
as the hand is concerned, is expressed by opening it and spreading the
fingers.This he would instinctively have done, if falling.Then there
is the position of the impression relative to the window and some slight
testimony upon the sill and glass, for the thorough investigation
of which I have been obliged to await my microscope.I have worked
diligently, but that is all I have been able to accomplish."Sandra travelled to the hallway.exclaimed Gwen, regarding him with ill-concealed admiration.There is another entry at the same place in Lodge."Lieutenant-Colonel
Francis Moore, sixth son of the first Viscount Mellifont, and brother to
Lord Charles who was killed at Portlester Mill, who was an officer in the
army for the reduction of Ireland, and in 1654, had a pension from the
then Government of 10/- a week, and five of his brother Charles' children
had L3 17s.a week in 1665, out of the district of Trim" (Lodge's _Pe |
bathroom | Where is Daniel? | This Francis Moore had been an officer
in the King's army, but soon after the arrival in Ireland of Jones, the
Parliamentarian General, he went over to him and took the Dundalk troops
with him.It was from Cromwell's government he had his pension, but the
pensions granted to Lord Charles' children were continued to them after
the Restoration, and Lord Henry mentioned above, was created Earl of
Drogheda, in 1661,--thus confirming the historic truism, that the
ungrateful Stuarts heaped favours on their enemies and treated their best
and most devoted adherents with cold indifference.As an illustration of
this we have the instance of one of the chief actors in those troublesome
times, Sir John Clotworthy, changing sides three times:--first, fighting
in the King's name and commission against the Ulster Irish; next, siding
with the Parliamentarians, his Majesty's deadliest enemies, and going over
to England as the spokesman of a deputation sent to the Parliament of
England to protest against the return of King Charles II., on rumour of
peace and terms being negotiated between them; again, on King Charles'
arrival in England, hieing over to tender his homages and
congratulations--and lo!--he
was created Viscount Massereene.It is only one instance of several
hundreds that may be cited.The unfortunate rebels whose banner bore the
legend, "_Vivat Carolus Rex_"--"Long live King Charles," and who remained
faithful to him to the last, were, by an irony of fate, robbed and
banished by the Cromwellians, who were put in possession of their estates
and confirmed in them by Charles II.!!!In the foregoing pages, the authorities quoted are Protestants, and all,
without exception, hostile to the Irish.Their testimony, nevertheless, is
favourable to the rebels, save where the question of religion crops up,
then their prejudice blinds their judgment, and hurries them into most
glaring absurdities.One more fact about that saddest page of our history.Before the outbreak of the Civil War in 1641, there were 1,200,000 Irish
Catholics in the country; at its close in 1652, the number had fallen to
700,000, and these were ordered under pain of death to transplant to
Connaught--the remnant of a broken and plundered race!!!Henry, the first Earl of Drogheda, did not long enjoy his honours; nor did
his son and successor, Charles, who was succeeded by his brother Henry,
the third Earl, who, on the eve of the ever-memorable Battle of the Boyne,
entertained a party, amongst whom was one of King William's highest
officers.On the morrow, July the 1st, the booming of King William's fifty
pieces of "dread artillery" echoed along the hills and the valley of the
Boyne, and shook the old abbey walls to their very foundations; and on
that night, the oaken rafters of Mellifont rang to the cheers and toasts
of the "glorious, pious, and immortal memory" of the Prince of Orange, on
whose side Earl Henry commanded that day a regiment of foot.It may be
interesting to mention here, that on the morning of the battle, the Irish
Catholic soldiers wore scraps of white paper on their caps--emblematic of
the livery of France; the followers of the Prince of Orange wore green
boughs torn off the trees.Charles, Lord Moore, son of Henry, the third Earl, married Jane, heiress
of Arthur, Viscount Ely, who received as her portion the suppressed Abbey
of Monasterevan, a Cistercian monastery founded by O'Dempsey, in the 12th
century.It was called Rosglas by the Irish, and the Valley of Roses, in
the list of monasteries of the Order in Ireland.When it came into Earl
Charles' possession, he changed the name to Moore Abbey, and made it his
residence.The sons of this Lord Charles, Henry and Edward, became earls
successively, and Edward, the fifth earl, having settled down permanently
at Monasterevan, sold Mellifont and some of the property in its immediate
vicinity to Mr.Balfour of Townley Hall, in 1727.The condition of Ireland at that time was truly deplorable.The Penal Laws
were in full force against the unfortunate Catholics, who were reduced to
a state little better than slavery.Johnson wrote of them some fifty
years later:--"The Irish are in a most unnatural state; for we see there
the minority prevailing over the majority.There is no such instance, even
in the ten persecutions, as that which the Protestants of Ireland have
exercised against the Catholics.Did we tell them we conquered, it would
be above board; to punish them by confiscations and other penalties was
monstrous injustice" (Boswell, at 1773).With the Moore family departed also the very shadow of Mellifont's
diminished greatness, and "time's effacing finger" almost completely
obliterated what was once a gorgeous national monument, which stood out
clearly as a finger-post on the ways of time.Gradually the fabric fell
into decay, the owl hooted on the landing of the grand stair-case, and the
daw and martin flitted unmolested through the deserted halls.The gardens
and walks and bowers disappeared beneath a crop of tangled brushwood, the
product of neglect.Soon the roof fell in, the walls became seamed with
many rents and toppled over with a crash; then Mellifont, the "Honey
Fountain," the Monasthir Mor, or Great Abbey, as it was called, the
foundation of saints and kings, the abode of the pious and the learned,
the house pre-eminently of prayer, the asylum of the poor and friendless,
became a shapeless accumulation of rubbish.True, a mill was erected about
100 years ago close to the site of the church, and, no doubt, it was told
to strangers who then visited the ruins by people who professed to know
all about monks, that it had more activity and exhibited more of the
bustle of life than when the silent, slumbering monks dwelt there.But a
mill in that hallowed spot was a huge incongruity and a wanton disregard
for all its honoured associations.In 1884, the few remaining ruins became
vested in the Board of Works, and the excavations which revealed the plan
of the church, as described in Chapter I., were carried out.It only
remains to be said that in Mr.Balfour of Townley Hall, the estimable
gentleman who now owns Mellifont and some of the property formerly
belonging to it, his tenants have found a liberal and generous benefactor,
who enjoys the merited esteem and respect of all who know him.As one ascends the hill over Mellifont, and, pausing on its summit, gazes
on the lovely scenery around him, particularly along the valley of the
Boyne, which Young called one of the completest pictures he had ever seen,
then glances at the quiet valley beneath him, and remembers what prominent
parts those who once trod that favoured spot played in our country's
chequered history, his soul is filled with solemn thoughts too big for
utterance.There, came the firm and gentle, yet dauntless, Malachy side
by side with Oriel's proud Chief, and hand in hand, they knelt and prayed
and consecrated it to the living God for ever.Thereon, rose up the
magnificent temple on which neither cost nor labour was spared, that it
might be worthy of Him Who deigns to dwell in tabernacles made by man; and
generation succeeded generation of monks, who calmly dwelt in that
peaceful valley, which, by their skill and enterprise, they converted into
a garden of delights and a terrestrial paradise.The bishop and the king
found there a resting-place when life's weary struggle was over, and their
end was sweetened by the cheering hopes of a glorious immortality.The
poor man and the homeless found there a welcome and a shelter, their wants
being liberally attended to; and the blessings of a free education and of
spiritual consolations were diffused on every side from that centre of
learning and piety.The knight and baron came, the belted man of war made
his home there, enjoyed his ephemeral honours, but he, too, is gone,
severing all connection with it both by name and title, leaving no trace
behind.The king and the knight have been brushed aside; and the old
chess-board, Mellifont, alone remains.Impressed with these reflections,
we take a glance beyond the grave, and there, we behold these actors pass
before the great, most just, and supreme Judge, to receive the requital of
their deeds, and to each is meted out reward or punishment according to
his deserts.We, too, the spectators, are hastening towards that same
goal; our future is indubitably in our own hands, according as we do or do
not now live up to our convictions, and the dictates of our consciences.And, now, we cannot help asking ourselves, what shall Mellifont's future
be?At present it is a blank; but, shall the lamp of piety and learning be
rekindled, and the light burst forth anew there as in the days of its
splendour?We know not; but we do know that, although God's ways are
inscrutable, His wisdom and power are infinite.To Him be all glory for
ever and ever.APPENDIX I.
LIST OF ABBOTS OF MELLIFONT.Daniel went back to the bathroom.Saint Christian O'Connarchy, Founder and first Abbot, Bishop of Lismore
and Legate of the Holy See, 1150.Blessed Malchus, brother of preceding.Charles O'Buacalla, 1177, made Bishop of Emly.Maelisa, appointed Bishop of Clogher in 1194.Carus, or Cormac O'Tarpa, elected Bishop of Achonry in 1219, resigned that
See in 1226, returned to Mellifont where he died.Hugh O'Hessain, resigned 1300.Radulph, or Ralph O'Hedian.Reginald Leynagh, died 15th August, 1368.[There is no record of the names of Abbots in this interval.]Thomas Harvey, died 20th March, 1525.Richard Conter, the last regular Abbot, pensioned in 1540.As will be observed, the line of succession is incomplete between the
years 1370 and 1472; and it is impossible now to fill in the gaps.The
List is taken from Ware's _Coenobia Cisterciensia in Hibernia_, and
Dalton's _History of Drogheda_.Copied and translated from the Original in the British Museum, from a copy
given by John O'Donovan in _Dublin Penny Journal_, 1832-33, p.Maurice M'Laughlin, King of all Ireland, to all his Kings, Princes,
Nobles, Leaders, Clergy and Laity, and to all and each the Irish present
and to come, GREETING.Know ye that I, by the unanimous will and common consent of the Nobles of
Ultonia, Ergallia (Oriel), and O'Neach (Iveagh), to wit of Donchad
O'Carroll, King of all Ergallia, and of Murchad his son, King of O'Meith,
and of the territory of Erthur, of Conla, King of Ultonia, of Donald
O'Heda, King of O'Neach (Iveagh), HAVE GRANTED AND CONFIRMED, in honour of
the Blessed Virgin Mary, St.Benedict, the Father and
Founder of the Cistercian Order, to the monks serving God in
Nyvorcintracta (Newry) as a perpetual and pure donation, the land of
O'Cormac, whereon was founded the monastery of Athcrathin, with its lands,
woods, and waters, Enancratha, with its lands, woods, and waters,
Crumglean, with its lands, woods, and waters, Caselanagan, with its lands,
woods, and waters, Lisinelle, with its lands, woods, and waters, Croa
Druimfornac, with its lands, woods, and waters, Letri, Corcrach,
Fidglassayn, Tirmorgannean, Connocol, etc.THESE LANDS with their MILLS, I
have confirmed to the aforesaid monks of my own proper gift, for the
health of my soul, that I may be partaker of all the benefits of masses,
_hours_ (_i.e._ vespers and matins), and prayers that shall be offered in
the Monastery itself, and to the end of time.And because I have founded the Monastery of Ybar cintracta (Newry), of my
own free will, I have taken the monks so much under my protection, as sons
and domestics of the faith, that they may be safe from the molestations
and incursions of all men.I will also that, as the Kings and Nobles of O'Neach (Iveagh), or of
Ergallia (Uriel), may wish to confer certain lands on this Monastery, for
the health of their souls, they may do so in my lifetime, while they have
my free will and licence, that I may know what and how much of my Earthly
Kingdom, the King of Heaven may possess for the use of His poor Monks._The Witnesses and Sureties are_:--
Giolla MacLiag, Archbishop of Armagh, _holding the Staff of Jesus in his
hand_.Hugh O'Killedy, Bishop of Uriel (Clogher.)Muriac O'Coffay, Bishop of Tirone (Derry.)Melissa Mac in Clerig-cuir, Bishop of Ultonia (Down.)Mary journeyed to the office.Gilla Comida O'Caran, Bishop of Tirconnell (Raphoe.)Eachmarcach O'Kane, King of Fearnacrinn and Kennacta (now Barony of
Keenaght, Co.O'Carriedh, the Great; Chief of Clan Aengusa, and Clan Neil.Cumaige O'Flain, King of O'Turtray (Antrim.)Gilla Christ O'Dubhdara, King of Fermanagh.Eachmarcach O'Ffoifylain.Maelmocta MacO'Nelba.Aedh (Hugh) the Great Magennis, Chief of Clan-Aeda, in O'Neach Uladh
(Iveagh.)Dermot MacCartan, Chief of Kenelfagartay (Kinelearty.)Acholy MacConlacha, Gill-na-naemh O'Lowry, Chief of Kinel Temnean.Gilla Odar Ocasey, Abbot of Dundalethglass (Downpatrick.)Hugh Maglanha, Abbot of Inniscumscray (Iniscourcy.)Angen, Abbot of Dromoge, and many other Clerics and Laics.INVENTORY OF ESTATES OF MELLIFONT.Richard Conter, the last Abbot of Mellifont, was, on the 23rd July, 1539,
seized of two messuages, 167 acres of arable land, 10 of pasture, 5 of
meadow, and 5 of pasture in Clut------, with a salmon weir; L13 13s.annual rent, arising from 16 fishing corraghs at Oldbridge, together with
the tithe-corn of the same, all of the annual value, besides reprises, of
L27 18s.; also a messuage in Shephouse, with the tithe-corn thereof,
of the annual value, besides all reprises, of L4 17s.; three
messuages, 120 acres of arable land, 20 of meadow,--a fishery, and a boat
for salmon-fishing in Komalane, together with the tithe-corn thereof, of
the annual value, besides all reprises, of L15 3s.; 3 messuages, 2
cottages, a water-mill,--a fishing-weir, 120 acres of arable land, 3
closes, containing 6 acres of mountain in Schahinge, together with the
tithe-corn, of the annual value, besides all reprises, of L12 6s.; 2
messuages,--20 acres of meadow and pasture in Donnore, together with the
tithe-corn thereof, of the annual value, besides all reprises, of 115/4; 2
messuages, 8 cottages, 46 acres of arable land, and 2 of meadow |
garden | Where is Daniel? | ;
---- 124 acres of arable land, and 10 of meadow in Graungethe, together
with the tithe-corn thereof, of the annual value, besides all reprises, of
L14 19s.; a messuage and cottage, 45 acres of arable land, and 15 of
meadow and pasture, in ----, together with the tithe-corn thereof, of the
annual value, besides all reprises, of L3 8s.Daniel went back to the bathroom.; 4 messuages, 9
cottages, 64 acres of arable land, and 4 in meadow in Balranny, together
with the tithe-corn thereof, of the annual value of ----, ---- messuages,
with 19 acres of arable land in Kordoraghe, together with the tithe-corn
thereof, of the annual value, besides all reprises, of 16/-; 7 messuages,
10 cottages, 186 acres of arable land, 8 of meadow, and 40 of pasture and
brushwood in ----, with the tithe-corn thereof, of the annual value,
besides all reprises, of L12 3s.; a messuage, two cottages, 120 acres of
arable land, a fishing-weir, called Bromey's weir, and the fishery there,
a water-mill in ----, with the tithe-corn thereof, of the annual value,
besides all reprises, of L16 5s.; 7 messuages, one cottage, 227 acres of
arable land, and 10 of meadow in Ballyfadocke, together with the
tithe-corn thereof, of the annual value, besides all reprises, of ----; 4
messuages, 20 acres of arable land, and 4 of meadow in Kinoyshe, together
with the tithe-corn thereof, of the annual value, besides all reprises, of
L10 3s.; 4 messuages, 46 acres of arable land, and 4 of meadow in
Kellystone, with the tithe-corn thereof, besides all reprises, of the
annual value of L4 5s.; 2 messuages, 3 cottages, 60 acres of arable
land, 6 of pasture, and 4 of meadow in Oracamathane, together with the
tithe-crown thereof, of the annual value, besides all reprises, of ----; 4
messuages, 8 cottages, 124 acres of arable land, a salmon-weir, called
Monktone, a water-mill in the town-land of Rosmore, together with the
tithe-corn thereof, of the annual value, besides all reprises, of ----; 3
messuages, 6 cottages, 126 acres of arable land, 6 of meadow, and 6 of
meadow in Gyltone, together with the tithe-corn thereof, of the annual
value, besides all reprises, of L6 4s.8d; 5 messuages, 8 cottages, 141
acres of arable land, the fourth part of an acre of meadow, and 6 of
common pasture in Dromenhatt, otherwise, Newton of Knockamothane, together
with the tithe-corn thereof, of the annual value, besides all reprises, of
L8 9s.; 6 messuages, 140 acres of arable land, 4-1/2 of meadow ---- in
Radrenage, together with the tithe-corn thereof, of the annual value,
besides all reprises, of L7 12s.Mary journeyed to the office.; 3 messuages, 8 cottages, 120 acres of
arable land, 6 of meadow, 6 of pasture in Calm, together with the
tithe-corn thereof, of the annual value, besides all reprises, of L6
17s.; 3 messuages, 60 acres of arable land, 60 of pasture, and 4 of meadow
in Starenaghe, with the tithe-corn thereof, of the annual value, besides
all reprises, of L5 5s.; the tithe-corn of the townland of
----inserathe and Balregane, near Donnore and below the parish of
Mellifont, of the annual value of L2; the tithe-corn of the town of
Monamore, of the annual value of L2 13s.; the rectory of Balrestore,
of the annual value of ----; and the chapels of Grangegeythe and
Knockamothane, parcel of the rectory of Mellifont, of the annual value of
---- all the said rectories being appropriated to the Abbot and his
successors, and, together with the said lands, etc., are lying and
situated in the Co.The Abbot was also seized of a small house
in the town of Drogheda, in the tenure of Thomas Tanner, annual value
13/4, and also of another house in the tenure of Roger Samon, of the
annual value of 8/-, with 2/- rent from the Mayor and commonalty of
Drogheda.The above is from the _Monasticon Hibernicum_.It by no means contains a
full inventory of the possessions of Mellifont at the time of its
suppression, only the property belonging to it in the County Meath.In the
same _Monasticon_ we read, "By an inquisition taken 14th June, 1612, the
possessions of this Abbey were found as follow:--The site, a water-mill, a
garden, an orchard, a park called Legan Park, the old orchard containing
two acres, the silver meadow 9 acres, the wood meadow 10 acres, and the
doves' park; 80 acres of underwood; Killingwood, being great timber,
containing 12 acres; Ardagh, 20 acres, being the demesne lands, and the
grange and town of Tullyallen, containing 27 messuages and 260 acres;
Derveragh, 5 messuages and 213 acres; Mell, 2 messuages and 60 acres;
Ballymear, alias Ballyremerry, 2 messuages and 60 acres; Sheepgrange, no
tithe, 8 messuages and 245 acres; Little Grange, 4 messuages and 62 acres;
Beckrath, 2 messuages and 63 acres; Cubbage, 4 messuages and 103 acres;
Ballygatheran, no tithe, 6 messuages and 132 acres; Salthouse, 7 messuages
and 238 acres; Staleban, 11 messuages and 160 acres; Vinspocke, 6
messuages and 90 acres; Morragh, no tithes, 11 messuages and 120 acres;
Ballypatrick, 8 messuages and 120 acres; in Collon, a water-mill and 23
acres, L6 13s.annual rent out of the said town, and the tithes
thereof; Ballymacskanlan, a castle, no tithe, and 120 acres; Cruerath,
Ballyraganly and Donnore, in the parish of Mellifont, with the tithes and
altarages, all in this county" (Louth).Here follow the possessions
belonging to the Abbey in the County Meath, and which have been given.FOOTNOTES:
[1] The "Tourist Company" have recently fitted up a compartment of the old
mill, where a cheap and substantial lunch can be had by visitors who may
desire it.[7] The _Annals of Ulster_ simply state "for the monks of Ireland did
banish him (Auliv) out of their abbacy, through lawful causes."_The Four
Masters_ tell us it was the monks of Drogheda who had expelled him from
the abbacy for his own crime.A writer in the _Dublin Penny Journal_,
1835-36, says this Auliv was Abbot of the monastery of St.Mary de Urso,
near the West Gate, Drogheda.He quotes some old Annals without
particularising them.And Dalton, in his History of Drogheda, tells us
that Auliv had been Abbot of that same Abbey of St.Mary's, Drogheda, and
was expelled.Dalton evidently confounds this monastery with Mellifont.Sandra went back to the garden.No
Cistercian Community had power to depose their abbot, such power being
vested in the General Chapter of the Order.[8] It is not generally known that it was an Irishman who, on the fatal
day of Aughrim, as St.Ruth rode to victory waving his cap, pointed him
out to the gunner whose faithful shot deprived St.Ruth of his head and
the Irish Army of a valiant General.[9] The Puritans admitted that Sir Phelim O'Neil did not commence his
alleged massacres until after the sacking and burning of Dundalk.Renew with you I
cannot: the affront is too gross.I give you a week's warning to get out
of these lodgings; whatever I have given you, remains to you; and as I
never intend to see you more, the landlord will pay you fifty pieces on
my account, with which, and every debt paid, I hope you will own I do
not leave you in a worse condition than what I took you up in, or that
you deserve of me.Blame yourself only that it is no better."Then, without giving me time to reply, he addressed himself to the young
fellow:
"For you, spark, I shall, for your father's sake, take care of you: the
town is no place for such an easy fool as thou art; and to-morrow you
shall set out, under the charge of one of my men, well recommended, in
my name, to your father, not to let you return and be spoil'd here."At these words he went out, after my vainly attempting to stop him, by
throwing myself at his feet.He shook me off, though he seemed greatly
moved too, and took Will away with him, who, I dare swear, thought
himself very cheaply off.I was now once more a-drift, and left upon my own hands, by a gentleman
whom I certainly did not deserve.And all the letters, arts, friends,
entreaties that I employed within the week of grace in my lodging,
could never win on him so much as to see me again.He had irrevocably
pronounced my doom, and submission to it was my only part.Soon after he
married a lady of birth and fortune, to whom, I have heard he proved an
irreproachable husband.As for poor Will, he was immediately sent down to the country to his
father, who was an easy farmer, where he was not four months before an
inn-keepers' buxom young widow, with a very good stock, both in
money and trade, fancied, and perhaps pre-acquainted with his secret
excellencies, married him: and I am sure there was, at least, one good
foundation for their living happily together.Though I should have been charmed to see him before he went, such
measures were taken, by Mr.H....'s orders, that it was impossible;
otherwise I should certainly have endeavoured to detain him in town, and
would have spared neither offers nor expense to have procured myself the
satisfaction of keeping him with me.He had such powerful holds upon my
inclinations as were not easily to be shaken off, or replaced; as to my
heart, it was quite out of the question: glad, however, I was from my
soul, that nothing worse, and as things turned out, nothing better could
have happened to him.H..., though views of conveniency made me, at first, exert
myself to regain his affection, I was giddy and thoughtless enough to be
much easier reconciled to my failure than I ought to have been; but as I
never had loved him, and his leaving me gave me a sort of liberty that I
had often longed for, I was soon comforted; and flattering myself, that
the stock of youth and beauty I was going to trade with, could hardly
fail of procuring me a maintenance, I saw myself under the necessity of
trying my fortune with them, rather, with pleasure and gaiety, than with
the least idea of despondency.In the mean time, several of my acquaintances among the sisterhood,
who had soon got wind of my misfortune, flocked to insult me with their
malicious consolations.Most of them had long envied me the affluence
and splendour I had been maintained in; and though there was scarce
one of them that did not at least deserve to be in my case, and would
probably, sooner or later, come to it, it was equally easy to remark,
even in their affected pity, their secret pleasure at seeing me
thus discarded, and their secret grief that it was no worse with me.and which is not confined to
the class of life they were of.But as the time approached for me to come to some resolution how to
dispose of myself, and I was considering, round where to shift my
quarters to, Mrs.Cole, a middle aged discreet sort of woman, who had
been brought into my acquaintance by one of the misses that visited me,
upon learning my situation, came to offer her cordial advice and service
to me; and as I had always taken to her more than to any of my female
acquaintances, I listened the easier to her proposals.And, as it
happened, I could not have put myself into worse, or into better hands
in all London: into worse, because keeping a house of conveniency, there
were no lengths in lewdness she would not advise me to go, in compliance
with her customers; no schemes, or pleasure, or even unbounded
debauchery, she did not take even a delight in promoting: into a better,
because nobody having had more experience of the wicked part of the
town than she had, was fitter to advise and guard one against the worst
dangers of our profession; and what was rare to be met with in those
of her's, she contented herself with a moderate living profit upon her
industry and good offices, and had nothing of their greedy rapacious
turn.She was really too a gentlewoman born and bred, but through a
train of accidents reduced to this course, which she pursued, partly
through necessity, partly through choice, as never woman delighted more
in encouraging a brisk circulation of the trade, for the sake of the
trade itself, or better understood all the mysteries and refinements
of it, than she did; so that she was consummately at the top of her
profession, and dealt only with customers of distinction: to answer the
demands of whom she kept a competent number of her daughters in constant
recruit (so she called those whom their youth and personal charms
recommended to her adoption and management: several of whom, by her
means, and through her tuition and instructions, succeeded very well in
the world).This useful gentlewoman upon whose protection I now threw myself, having
her reasons of state, respecting Mr.H...., for not appearing too much
in the thing herself, sent a friend of her's, on the day appointed for
my removal, to conduct me to my new lodgings at a brush-maker's in E----
street, Covent Garden, the very next door to her own house, where she
had no conveniences to lodge me herself: lodgings that, by having been
for several successions tenanted by ladies of pleasures, the landlord
of them was familiarized to their ways; and provided the rent was paid,
every thing else was as easy and commodious as one could desire.The fifty guineas promised me by Mr.H...., at his parting with me,
having been duly paid me, all my clothes and moveables chested up, which
were at least of two hundred pounds value, I had them conveyed into a
coach, where I soon followed them, after taking a civil leave of the
landlord and his family, with whom I had never lived in a degree
of familiarity enough to regret the removal; but still, the very
circumstance of its being a removal, drew tears from me.I left, too,
a letter of thanks for Mr.Daniel moved to the garden.H...., from whom I concluded myself, as I
really was, irretrievably separated.My maid I had discharged the day before, not only because I had her of
Mr.H...., but that I suspected her of having some how or other been the
occasion of his discovering me, in revenge, perhaps, for my not having
trusted her with him.We soon got to my lodgings, which, though not so handsomely furnished,
nor so showy as those I left, were to the full as convenient, and at
|
office | Where is Mary? | My trunks were safely landed, and
stowed in my apartments, where my neighbour, and now gouvernante, Mrs.Cole, was ready with my landlord to receive me, to whom she took care to
set me out in the most favourable light, that of one from whom there was
the clearest reason to expect the regular payment of his rent: all the
cardinal virtues attributed to me, would not have had half the weight of
that recommendation alone.Daniel went back to the bathroom.I was now settled in lodgings of my own, abandoned to my own conduct,
and turned loose upon the town, to sink or swim, as I could manage with
the current of it; and what were the consequences, together with
the number of adventures which befell me in the exercise of my new
profession, will compose the mater of another letter: for surely it is
high time to put a period!I am,
MADAM,
Yours, etc., etc., etc.THE END OF THE FIRST LETTER
LETTER THE SECOND
Madam:
If I have delayed the sequel of my history, it has been purely to allow
myself a little breathing time not without some hopes, that, instead of
pressing me to a continuation, you would have acquitted me of the task
of pursuing a confession, in the course of which my self-esteem has so
many wounds to sustain.I imagined, indeed, that you would have been cloyed and tired with
uniformity of adventures and expressions, inseparable from a subject of
this sort, whose bottom, or groundwork being, in the nature of things
eternally one and the same, whatever variety of forms and modes the
situations are susceptible of, there is no escaping a repetition of
near the same images, the same figures, the same expressions, with this
further inconvenience added to the disgust it creates, that the words
Joys, Ardours, Transports, Extasies and the rest of those pathetic terms
so congenial to, so received in the Practice of Pleasure, flatten
and lose much of their due spirit and energy by the frequency they
indispensably recur with, in a narrative of which that Practice
professedly composes the whole basis.Mary journeyed to the office.I must therefore trust to the
candour of your judgment, for your allowing for the disadvantage I
am necessarily under in that respect; and to your imagination and
sensibility, the pleasing taks of repairing it, by their supplements,
where my descriptions flag or fail: the one will readily place the
pictures I present before your eyes; the other give life to the colours
where they are dull, or worn with too frequent handling.What you say besides, by way of encouragement concerning the extreme
difficulty of continuing so long in one strain, in a mean tempered with
taste, between the revoltingness of gross, rank and vulgar expressions,
and the ridicule of mincing metaphors and affected circumlocutions, is
so sensible, as well as good-natured, that you greatly justify me to
myself for my compliance with a curiosity that is to be satisfied so
extremely at my expense.Resuming now where I broke off in my last, I am in my way to remark to
you, that it was late in the evening before I arrived at my lodgings,
and Mrs.Cole, after helping me to range and secure my things, spent
the whole evening with me in my apartment, where we supped together, in
giving me the best advice and instruction with regard to the new stage
of my profession I was now to enter upon; and passing thus from a
private devotee to pleasure into a public one, to become a more general
good, with all the advantages requisite to put my person out to use,
either for interest or pleasure, or both."But then," she observed, "as
I was a kind of new face upon the town, that is, was an established rule
and myster of trade, for me to pass for a maid and dispose of myself
as such on the first good occasion, without prejudice, however, to such
diversions as I might have a mind to in the interim; for that nobody
could be a greater enemy than she was to the losing of time.That she
would, in the mean time, do her best to find out a proper person, and
would undertake to manage this nice point for me, if I would accept
of her aid and advice to such good purpose, that, in the loss of a
fictitious maidenhead, I should reap all the advantages of a native
one."As too great a delicacy of sentiments did not extremely belong to my
character at that time, I confess, against myself, that I perhaps too
readily closed with a proposal which my candor and ingenuity gave me
some repugnance to: but not enough to contradict the intention of one to
whom I had now thoroughly abandoned the direction of all my steps.Cole had, I do not know how unless by one of those unaccountable
invincible sympathies that, nevertheless, from the strongest links,
especially of female friendship, won and got entire possession of me.On
her side, she pretended that a strict resemblance, she fancied she saw
in me, to an only daughter whom she had lost at my age, was the first
motive of her taking to me so affectionately as she did.It might be so:
there exist a slender motives of attachment, that, gathering force from
habit and liking, have proved often more solid and durable than those
founded on much stronger reasons; but this I know, that though I had
no other acquaintance with her, than seeing her at my lodgings, when
I lived with Mr.H..., where she had made errands to sell me some
millinery ware, she had by degrees insinuated herself so far into my
confidence, that I threw myself blindly into her hands, and came,
at length, to regard, love, and obey her implicitly; and, to do her
justice, I never experienced at her hands other than a sincerity of
tenderness, and care for my interest, hardly heard of in those of
her profession.Sandra went back to the garden.We parted that night, after having settled a perfect
unreserved agreement; and the next morning Mrs.Cole came, and took me
with her to her house for the first time.Here, at the first sight of things, I found every thing breathe an air
of decency, modesty and order.In the outer parlour, or rather shop, sat three young women, rather
demurely employed on millinery work, which was the cover of a traffic in
more precious commodities; but three beautifuller creatures could hardly
be seen.Two of them were extremely fair, the eldest not above nineteen;
and the third, much about that age, was a piquant brunette, whose black
sparking eyes, and perfect harmony of features and shape, left her
nothing to envy in her fairer companions.Their dress too had the more
design in it, the less it appeared to have, being in a taste of uniform
correct neatness, and elegant simplicity.These were the girls that
composed the small domestic flock, which my governess trained up with
surprising order and management, considering the giddy wildness of young
girls once got upon the loose.But then she never continued any in her
house, whom, after a due noviciate, she found un-tractable, or unwilling
to comply with the rules of it.Thus she had insensibly formed a little
family of love, in which the members found so sensibly their account,
in a rare alliance of pleasure and interest, and of a necessary outward
decency, with unbounded secret liberty, that Mrs.Cole, who had picked
them as much for their temper as their beauty, governed them with ease
to herself and them too.To these pupils then of hers, whom she had prepared, she presented me
as a new boarder, and one that was to be immediately admitted to all the
intimacies of the house; upon which these charming girls gave me all the
marks of a welcome reception, and indeed of being perfectly pleased with
my figure, that I could possibly expect from any of my own sex: but they
had been effectually brought to sacrifice all jealousy, or competition
of charms, to a common interest, and considered me a partner that was
bringing no despicable stock of goods into the trade of the house.They
gathered round me, viewed me on all sides; and as my admission into this
joyous troop made a little holiday, the shew of work was laid aside; and
Mrs.Cole giving me up, with special recommendation, to their caresses
and entertainment, went about her ordinary business of the house.The sameness of our sex, age, profession, and views, soon creased
as unreserved a freedom and intimacy as if we had been for years
acquainted.They took and shewed me the house, their respective
apartments, which were furnished with every article of convenience and
luxury; and above all, a spacious drawing-room, where a select revelling
band usually met, in general parties of pleasure; the girls supping
with their sparks, and acting their wanton pranks with unbounded
licentiousness; whilst a defiance of awe, modesty or jealousy were their
standing rules, by which, according to the principles of their society,
whatever pleasure was lost on the side of sentiment, was abundantly made
up to the senses in the poignancy of variety, and the charms of ease and
luxury.The authors and supporters of this secret institution would, in
the height of their humour, style themselves the restorers of the golden
age and its simplicity of pleasures, before their innocence became so
unjustly branded with the names of guilt and shame.As soon then as the evening began, and the shew of a shop was shut, the
academy opened; the mask of mock-modesty was completely taken off, and
all the girls delivered over to their respective calls of pleasure
or interest with their men: and none of that sex was promiscuously
admitted, but only such as Mrs.Cole was previously satisfied with their
character and discretion.In short, this was the safest, politest, and,
at the same time, the most thorough house of accommodation in town:
every thing being conducted so, that decency made no intrenchment upon
the most libertine pleasures; in the practice of which, too, the choice
familiars of the house had found the secret so rare and difficult, of
reconciling even all the refinements of taste and delicacy, with the
most gross and determinate gratifications of sensuality.After having consumed the morning in the dear endearments and
instructions of my new acquaintance, we went to dinner, when Mrs.Cole, presiding at the head of her club, gave me the first idea of her
management and address, in inspiring these girls with so sensible a
love and respect for her.There was no stiffness, no reserve, no airs of
pique, or little jealousies, but all was unaffectedly gay, cheerful and
easy.Cole, seconded by the young ladies, acquainted me
that there was a chapter to be held that night in form, for the ceremony
of my reception into the sisterhood; and in which, with all due reserve
to my maidenhead, that was to be occasionally cooked up for the first
proper chapman.I was to undergo a ceremonial of initiation they were
sure I should not be displeased with.Embarked as I was, and moreover captivated with the charms of my new
companions, I was too much prejudiced in favour of any proposal they
could make, to as much as hesitate an assent; which, therefore, readily
giving in the style of a carte blanche, I received fresh kisses of
compliment from them all, in approval of my docility and good nature.Now I was "a sweet girl... I came into things with a good grace... I was
not affectedly coy... I should be the pride of the house," and the like.Daniel moved to the garden.This point thus adjusted, the young women left Mrs.Cole to talk and
concert matters with me, when she explained to me, that "I should be
introduced that very evening, to four of her best friends, one of
whom she had, according to the custom of the house, favoured with the
preference of engaging me in the first party of pleasure;" assuring me,
at the same time, "that they were all young gentlemen agreeable in their
persons, and unexceptionable in every respect; that united, and holding
together by the band of common pleasures, they composed the chief
support of her house, and made very liberal presents to the girls that
pleased and humoured them, so that they were, properly speaking, the
founders and patrons of this little seraglio.Not but that she had, at
proper seasons, other customers to deal with, whom she stood less upon
punctilio with, than with these; for instance, it was not on one of them
she could attempt to pass me for a maid; they were not only too knowing,
too much town-bred to bite at such a bait, but they were such generous
benefactors to her, that it would be unpardonable to think of it."Amidst all the flutter and emotion which this promise of pleasure, for
such I conceived it, stirred up in me, I preserved so much of the woman,
as to feign just reluctance enough to make some merit, of sacrificing it
to the influence of my patroness, whom I likewise, still in character,
reminded of it perhaps being right for me to go home and dress, in
favour of my first impressions.Cole, in opposition to this, assured me, "that the gentlemen
I should be presented to were, by their rank and taste of things,
infinitely superior to the being touched with any glare of dress or
ornaments, such slick women rather confound and overlay than set off
their beauty with; that these veteran voluptuaries knew better than not
to hold them in the highest contempt: they with whom the pure native
charms alone could pass current, and who would at any time leave a
sallow, washy, painted duchess on her own hands, for a ruddy, healthy
firm fleshed country maid; and as for my part, that nature had
done enough for me, to set me above owing the least favour to art;"
concluding withal, that for the instant occasion, there was no dress
like an undress.I thought my governess too good a judge of these matters, not to
be easily overruled by her: after which she went on preaching very
pathetically the doctrine of passive obedience and non-resistance to
all those arbitrary tastes of pleasure, which are by some styled the
refinements, and by others the depravations of it; between whom it was
not the business of a simple girl, who was to profit by pleasing, to
decide, but to conform to.Whilst I was edifying by these wholesome
lessons, tea was brought in, and the young ladies, returning, joined
company with us.After a great deal of mixed chat, frolic and humour, one of them,
observing that there would be a good deal of time on and before the
assembly hour, proposed that each girl should entertain the company
with that critical period of her personal history, in which she first
exchanged the maiden state for womanhood.The proposal was approved,
with only one restriction of Mrs.Cole, that she, on account of her age,
and I, on account of my titular maidenhead, should be excused, at
least till I had undergone the forms of the house.This obtained me a
dispensation, and the promotress of this amusement was desired to begin.Her name was Emily; a girl fair to excess, and whose limbs were, if
possible, too well made, since their plump fulness was rather to the
prejudice of that delicate slimness required by the nicer judges of
beauty; her eyes were blue, and streamed inexpressible sweetness, and
nothing could be prettier than her mouth and lips, which closed over a
range of the evenest and whitest teeth.Daniel journeyed to the hallway.Thus she began:
"Neither my extraction, nor the most critical adventure of my life, is
sublime enough to impeach me of any vanity in the advancement of the
proposal you have approved of.John moved to the garden.My father and mother were, and for aught
I know, are still, farmers in the country, not above forty miles from
town: their barbarity to me, in favour of a son, on whom alone they
vouchsafed to bestow their tenderness, had a thousand times determined
me to fly their house, and throw myself on the wide world; but, at
length, an accident forced me on this desperate attempt at the age of
fifteen.I had broken a chinabowl, the pride and idol of both their
hearts; and as an unmerciful beating was the least I had to depend on at
their hands, in the silliness of these tender years, I left the house,
and, at all adventures, took the road |
hallway | Where is Sandra? | How my loss was
resented I do not know, for till this instant I have not heard
a syllable about them.My whole stock was two broad pieces of my
godmother's, a few shillings, silver shoe-buckles and a silver thimble.Thus equipped, with no more clothes than the ordinary ones I had on my
back, and frightened at every foot or noise I heard behind me, I hurried
on; and I dare sweare, walked a dozen miles before I stopped, through
mere weariness and fatigue.Daniel went back to the bathroom.At length I sat down on a style, wept
bitterly, and yet was still rather under increased impressions of fear
on the account of my escape; which made me dread, worse than death, the
going back to my unnatural parents.Mary journeyed to the office.Refreshed by this little repose, and
relieved by my tears, I was proceeding onward, when I was overtaken by a
sturdy country lad, who was going to London to see what he could do for
himself there, and, like me, had given his friends the slip.He could
not be above seventeen, was ruddy, well featured enough, with uncombed
flaxen hair, a little flapped hat, kersey frock, yarn stockings, in
short, a perfect plough boy.I saw him come whistling behind me, with a
bundle tied to the end of a stick, his travelling equipage.We walked by
one another for some time without speaking; at length we joined company,
and agreed to keep together till we got to our journey's end; what his
designs or ideas were, I know not: the innocence of mine I can solemnly
protest."As night drew on, it became us to look out for some inn or shelter; to
which perplexity another was added, and that was, what we should say for
ourselves, if we were questioned.After some puzzle, the young fellow
started a proposal, which I thought the finest that could be; and what
was that?why, that we should pass for husband and wife: I never dreamed
of consequences.We came presently, after having agreed on this notable
experience, to one of those hedge accommodations for foot passengers,
at the door of which stood an old crazy beldam, who seeing us trudge by,
invited us to lodge there.Glad of any cover, we went in, and my fellow
traveller, taking all upon him, called for what the house afforded, and
we supped together as man and wife; which, considering our figures and
ages, could not have passed on any one but such as any thing could
pass on.But when bed-time came on, we had neither of us the courage
to contradict our first account of ourselves; and what was extremely
pleasant, the young lad seemed as perplexed as I was how to evade lying
together, which was so natural for the state we had pretended to.Whilst
we were in this quandary, the landlady takes the candles, and lights
us to our apartment, through a long yard, at the end of which it stood,
separate from the body of the house.Thus we suffered ourselves to be
conducted, without saying a word in opposition to it; and there, in a
wretched room, with a bed answerable, we were left to pass the night
together, as a thing quite of course.For my part, I was so incredibly
innocent, as not even to think much more harm of going into bed with the
young man, than with one of our dairy wenches; nor had he, perhaps, any
other notions than those of innocence, till such a fair occasion put
them into his head.Sandra went back to the garden."Before either of us undressed, however, he put out the candle; and the
bitterness of the weather made it a kind of necessity for me to go into
bed: slipping then my clothes off, I crept under the bedclothes, where
I found the young stripling already nestled, and the touch of his warm
flesh rather pleased than alarmed me.Daniel moved to the garden.I was indeed too much disturbed
with the novelty of my condition to be able to sleep; but then I had
not the least thought of harm.how little is there wanting to set them in action!The young
man, sliding his arm under my body, drew me gently towards him, as if
to keep himself and me warmer; and the heat I felt from joining our
breasts, kindled another that I had hitherto never felt, and was,
even then, a stranger to the nature of.Emboldened, I suppose, by my
easiness, he ventured to kiss me, and I insensibly returned it; without
knowing the consequence of returning it: for, on this encouragement, he
slipped his hand all down from my breast to that part of me where the
sense of feeling is so exquisitely critical, as I then experienced by
its instant taking fire upon the touch, and glowing with a strange
tickling heat: there he pleased himself and me, by feeling, till growing
a little too bold with me, he hurt me, and made me complain.Then he
took my hand, which he guided, not unwillingly on my side, between the
twist of his closed thighs, which were extremely warm; there he lodged
and pressed it, till raising it by degrees, he made me feel the proud
distinction of his sex from mine.I was frightened at the novelty,
and drew back my hand; yet, pressed and spurred on by sensations of a
strange pleasure, I could not help asking him what that was for?He
told me he would shew me if I would let him; and without waiting for
my answer, which he prevented by stopping my mouth with kisses I was
far from disrelishing, he got upon me, and inserting one of his thighs
between mine, opened them so as to make way for himself, and fixed me to
his purpose; whilst I was so much out of my usual sense, so subdued
by the present power of a new one, that, between far and desire, I lay
utter passive, till the piercing pain rouzed and made me cry out.But
it was too late: he was too firm fixed in the saddle for me to compass
flinging him, with all the struggles I could use, some of which only
served to further his point, and at length an irresistible thrust
murdered at once my maidenhead, and almost me.I now lay a bleeding
witness of the necessity imposed on our sex, to gather the first honey
off the thorns."But the pleasure rising as the pain subsided, I was soon reconciled to
fresh trials, and before morning, nothing on earth could be dearer to me
than this rifler of my virgin sweets: he was every thing to me now."How we agreed to join fortunes: how we came up to town together, where
we lived some time, till necessity-parted us, and drove me into this
course of life, to which I had been long ago bettered and torn to pieces
before I came to this age, as much through my easiness, as through
inclination, had it not been for my finding refuge in this house: these
are all circumstances which pass the mark I proposed, so that here my
narrative ends."In the order of our sitting, it was Harriet's turn to go on.Amongst
all the beauties of our sex, that I had before, or have since seen, few
indeed were the forms that could dispute excellence with her's; it was
not delicate, but delicacy itself incarnate, such was the symmetry of
her small but exactly fashioned limbs.Her complexion, fair as it
was, appeared yet more fair, from the effect of two black eyes, the
brilliancy of which gave her face more vivacity than belonged to the
colour of it, which was only defended from paleness, by a sweetly
pleasing blush in her cheeks, that grew fainter and fainter, till at
length it died away insensibly into the overbearing white.Daniel journeyed to the hallway.Then her
miniature features joined to finish the extreme sweetness of it, which
was not belied by that of a temper turned to indolence, languor, and
the pleasures of love.Pressed to subscribe her contingent, she smiled,
blushed a little, and thus complied with our desires:
"My father was neither better nor worse than a miller near the city of
York; and both he and my mother dying whilst I was an infant, I fell
under the care of a widow and childless aunt, housekeeper to my lord
N..., at his seat in the county of..., where she brought me up with all
imaginable tenderness.I was not seventeen, as I am not now eighteen,
before I had, on account of my person purely (for fortune I had
notoriously none), several advantageous proposals; but whether nature
was slow in making me sensible in her favourite passion, or that I had
not seen any of the other sex who had stirred up the least emotion
or curiosity to be better acquainted with it, I had, till that age,
preserved a perfect innocence, even of thought: whilst my fears of I
did not now well know what, made me no more desirous of marrying than of
dying.My aunt, good woman, favoured my timorousness, which she loooked
on as childish affection, that her own experience might probably assure
her would wear off in time, and gave my suitors proper answers for me.John moved to the garden."The family had not been down at that seat for years, so that it was
neglected, and committed entirely to my aunt, and two old domestics to
take care of it.Thus I had the full range of a spacious lonely house
and gardens, situated at about half a mile distance from any other
habitation, except, perhaps, a straggling cottage or so."Here, in tranquillity and innocence, I grew up without any memorable
accident, till one fatal day I had, as I had often done before, left my
aunt asleep, and secure for some hours, after dinner; and resorting to a
kind of ancient summer house, at some distance from the house, I carried
my work with me, and sat over a rivulet, which its door and window faced
upon.Here I fell into a gentle breathing slumber, which stole upon my
senses, as they fainted under the excessive heat of the season at
that hour; a cane couch, with my work basked for a pillow, were all the
conveniences of my short repose; for I was soon awaked and alarmed by a
flounce, and noise of splashing in the water.Sandra went back to the hallway.I got up to see what was
the matter; and what indeed should it be but the son of a neighbouring
gentleman, as I afterwards found (for I had never seen him before),
who had strayed that way with his gun, and heated by his sport, and the
sultriness of the day, had been tempted by the freshness of the clear
stream; so that presently stripping, he jumped into it on the other
side, which bordered on a wood, some trees whereof, inclined down to the
water, formed a pleasing shady recess, commodious to undress and leave
his clothes under."My first emotions at the sight of this youth, naked in the water, were,
with all imaginable respect to truth, those of surprise and fear;
and, in course, I should immediately have run out, had not my modesty,
fatally for itself, interposed the objection of the door and window
being so situated, that it was scarce possible to get out, and make my
way along the bank to the house, without his seeing me: which I could
not bear the thought of, so much ashamed and confounded was I at having
seen him.Condemned then to stay till his departure should release me,
I was greatly embarrassed how to dispose of myself: I kept some time
betwixt terror and modesty, even from looking through the window, which
being an old fashioned casement, without any light behind me, could
hardly betray any one's being there to him from within; then the door
was so secure, that without violence, or my own consent, there was no
opening it from without."But now, by my own experience, I found it too true, that objects which
affright us, when we cannot get from them, draw our eyes as forcibly as
those that please us.I could not long withstand that nameless impulse,
which, without any desire of this novel sight, compelled me towards
it; emboldened too by my certainty of being at once unseen and safe,
I ventured by degrees to cast my eyes on an object so terrible and
alarming to my virgin modesty as a naked man."But as I snatched a look, the first gleam that struck me, was in general
the dewy lustre of the whitest skin imaginable, which the sun playing
upon made the reflection of it perfectly beamy.His face, in the
confusion I was in, I could not well distinguish the lineamints of, any
farther than that there was a great deal of youth and freshness in it.The frolic and various play of all his fine polished limbs, as they
appeared above the surface, in the course of his swimming or wantoning
with the water, amused and insensibly delighted me; sometimes he lay
motionless, on his back, waterborne, and dragging after him a fine head
of hair, that, floating, swept the stream in a bush of black curls.Then
the overflowing water would make a separation between his breast and
glossy white belly; at the bottom of which I could not escape observing
so remarkable a distinction, as a black mossy tuft, out of which
appeared to emerge a round, softish, limber, white something, that
played every way, with ever the least motion or whirling eddy.I cannot
say but that part chiefly, by a kind of natural instinct, attracted,
detained, captivated my attention: it was out of the power of all my
modesty to command my eye away from it; and seeing nothing so very
dreadful in its appearance, I insensibly looked away all my fears: but
as fast as they gave way, new desires and strange wishes took place, and
I melted as I gazed.The fire of nature, that had so long lain dormant
or concealed, began to break out, and made me feel my sex for the first
time.He had now changed his posture, and swam prone on his belly,
striking out with his legs and arms; finer modeled than which could
not have been cast, whilst his floating locks played over a neck and
shoulders whose whiteness they delightfully set off.Then the luxuriant
swell of flesh that rose from the small of his back, and terminates its
double cope at where the thighs are set off, perfectly dazzled one with
its watery glistening gloss."By this time I was so affected by this inward involution of sentiments,
so softened by this sight, that now, betrayed into a sudden transition
from extreme fears to extreme desires, I found these last so strong upon
me, the heat of the weather too perhaps conspiring to exalt their
rage, that nature almost fainted under them.Not that I so much as knew
precisely what was wanting to me: my only thought was, that so sweet
a creature, as this youth seemed to me, could only make me happy; but
then, the little likelihood there was of compassing an acquaintance with
him, or perhaps of ever seeing him again, dashed my desires, and turned
them into torments."I know that too; but... Sebastian is at St.Nathaniel's--and I want to
be near Sebastian."I cried, my face lighting up with a gleam of
enthusiasm at our great teacher's name."Ah, if it is to be under
Sebastian that you desire, I can see you mean business.she echoed, that strange deeper shade coming over her face
as she spoke, while her tone altered."Yes, I think I am in earnest!It
is my object in life to be near Sebastian--to watch him and observe him.I mean to succeed.... But I have given you my confidence, perhaps too
hastily, and I must implore you not to mention my wish to him.""You may trust me implicitly," I answered."Oh, yes; I saw that," she put in, with a quick gesture."Of course, I
saw by your face you were a man of honour--a man one could trust or I
would not have spoken to you."I promise you," I replied, naturally flattered.She was delicately
pretty, and her quaint, oracular air, so incongruous with the dainty
face and the fluffy brown hair, piqued me not a little.That special
mysterious commodity of CHARM seemed to pervade all she did and said.Mary went back to the bedroom.So I added: "And I will mention to |
bathroom | Where is John? | As you have had experience, and can be
recommended, I suppose, by Le Geyt's sister," with whom she had come,
"no doubt you can secure an early vacancy.""Thanks so much," she answered, with that delicious smile.It had an
infantile simplicity about it which contrasted most piquantly with her
prophetic manner."Only," I went on, assuming a confidential tone, "you really MUST
tell me why you said that just now about Hugo Le Geyt.Recollect, your
Delphian utterances have gravely astonished and disquieted me.Hugo is
one of my oldest and dearest friends; and I want to know why you have
formed this sudden bad opinion of him.""Not of HIM, but of HER," she answered, to my surprise, taking a small
Norwegian dagger from the what-not and playing with it to distract
attention.Daniel went back to the bathroom."Come, come, now," I cried, drawing back.Mary journeyed to the office.But I
am not the sort of man to be caught by horoscopes.Sandra went back to the garden."I
am going from here straight to my hospital," she murmured, with a quiet
air of knowledge--talking, I mean to say, like one who really knows."This room is not the place to discuss this matter, is it?George's with me, I think I can make you see and
feel that I am speaking, not at haphazard, but from observation and
experience."The Le Geyts lived in one of those new streets of large houses on
Campden Hill, so that our way eastward lay naturally through Kensington
Gardens.It was a sunny June day, when light pierced even through the smoke of
London, and the shrubberies breathed the breath of white lilacs."Now,
what did you mean by that enigmatical saying?"I asked my new Cassandra,
as we strolled down the scent-laden path."Woman's intuition is all very
well in its way; but a mere man may be excused if he asks for evidence."Daniel moved to the garden.She stopped short as I spoke, and gazed full into my eyes.Her hand
fingered her parasol handle."I meant what I said," she answered, with
emphasis.You
may take my word, for it."A big, good-natured,
kindly schoolboy!He is the gentlest and best of mortals."Has it never occurred to you," she
asked, slowly, with her pythoness air, "that there are murders and
murders?--murders which depend in the main upon the murderer... and also
murders which depend in the main upon the victim?""Well, there are brutal men who commit murder out of sheer
brutality--the ruffians of the slums; and there are sordid men who
commit murder for sordid money--the insurers who want to forestall their
policies, the poisoners who want to inherit property; but have you
ever realised that there are also murderers who become so by accident,
through their victims' idiosyncrasy?I thought all the time while I
was watching Mrs.Le Geyt, 'That woman is of the sort predestined to
be murdered.'...And when you asked me, I told you so.I may have been
imprudent; still, I saw it, and I said it.""No, not second sight; nothing uncanny, nothing supernatural.But
prevision, yes; prevision based, not on omens or auguries, but on solid
fact--on what I have seen and noticed.""Explain yourself, oh, prophetess!"She let the point of her parasol make a curved trail on the gravel,
and followed its serpentine wavings with her eyes.she asked at last, looking up of a sudden.After you have seen, you will perhaps
believe me."Nothing that I could say would get any further explanation out of her
just then."You would laugh at me if I told you," she persisted; "you
won't laugh when you have seen it."We walked on in silence as far as Hyde Park Corner.There my Sphinx
tripped lightly up the steps of St.Travers's leave," she said, with a nod, and a bright smile, "to visit
Nurse Wade's ward.Then come up to me there in five minutes."I explained to my friend the house surgeon that I wished to see certain
cases in the accident ward of which I had heard; he smiled a restrained
smile--"Nurse Wade, no doubt!"but, of course, gave me permission to
go up and look at them."Stop a minute," he added, "and I'll come with
you."When we got there, my witch had already changed her dress, and was
waiting for us demurely in the neat dove- gown and smooth
white apron of the hospital nurses.She looked even prettier and more
meaningful so than in her ethereal outside summer-cloud muslin."Come over to this bed," she said at once to Travers and myself, without
the least air of mystery."I will show you what I mean by it.""Nurse Wade has remarkable insight," Travers whispered to me as we went.Daniel journeyed to the hallway."Look at this woman," she went on, aside, in a low voice--"no, NOT the
first bed; the one beyond it; Number 60.I don't want the patient
to know you are watching her.Do you observe anything odd about her
appearance?""She is somewhat the same type," I began, "as Mrs.--"
Before I could get out the words "Le Geyt," her warning eye and
puckering forehead had stopped me."As the lady we were discussing,"
she interposed, with a quiet wave of one hand."Yes, in some points
very much so.You notice in particular her scanty hair--so thin and
poor--though she is young and good-looking?""It is certainly rather a feeble crop for a woman of her age," I
admitted."And pale at that, and washy."It's done up behind about as big as a nutmeg.... Now,
observe the contour of her back as she sits up there; it is curiously
curved, isn't it?""Not exactly a stoop, nor yet quite a hunch, but
certainly an odd spinal configuration."Hilda Wade looked away, lest she should attract the patient's attention.John moved to the garden."Well, that woman was brought in here, half-dead, assaulted by her
husband," she went on, with a note of unobtrusive demonstration."We get a great many such cases," Travers put in, with true medical
unconcern, "very interesting cases; and Nurse Wade has pointed out to me
the singular fact that in almost all instances the patients resemble one
another physically.""I can understand that there might well be a type
of men who assault their wives, but not, surely, a type of women who get
assaulted.""That is because you know less about it than Nurse Wade," Travers
answered, with an annoying smile of superior knowledge.Our instructress moved on to another bed, laying one gentle hand as she
passed on a patient's forehead."That one
again," she said once more, half indicating a cot at a little distance:
"Number 74.She has much the same thin hair--sparse, weak, and
colourless.She has much the same curved back, and much the same
aggressive, self-assertive features.Well, she, too, was knocked down and kicked half-dead the
other night by her husband.""It is certainly odd," I answered, "how very much they both recall--"
"Our friend at lunch!See here"; she pulled out a
pencil and drew the quick outline of a face in her note-book."THAT
is what is central and essential to the type."Quite true," he assented, with his
bourgeois nod."Nurse Wade in her time has shown me dozens of them.In fact,
when a woman of this type is brought in to us wounded now, I ask at
once, 'Husband?'and the invariable answer comes pat: 'Well, yes, sir;
we had some words together.'The effect of words, my dear fellow, is
something truly surprising.""They can pierce like a dagger," I mused."And leave an open wound behind that requires dressing," Travers added,
unsuspecting."But WHY do they get assaulted--the women of this type?"I asked, still
bewildered."Number 87 has her mother just come to see her," my sorceress
interposed."SHE'S an assault case; brought in last night; badly kicked
and bruised about the head and shoulders.She'll
explain it all to you."Travers and I moved over to the cot her hand scarcely indicated."Well,
your daughter looks pretty comfortable this afternoon, in spite of the
little fuss," Travers began, tentatively."Yus, she's a bit tidy, thanky," the mother answered, smoothing her
soiled black gown, grown green with long service."She'll git on naow,
please Gord.Travers asked, in a jaunty tone, to draw her
out."Well, it was like this, sir, yer see.My daughter, she's a lidy as
keeps 'erself TO 'erself, as the sayin' is, an' 'olds 'er 'ead up.She
keeps up a proper pride, an' minds 'er 'ouse an' 'er little uns.She
ain't no gadabaht.But she 'AVE a tongue, she 'ave"; the mother lowered
her voice cautiously, lest the "lidy" should hear."I don't deny it that
she 'AVE a tongue, at times, through myself 'avin' suffered from it.And
when she DO go on, Lord bless you, why, there ain't no stoppin' of 'er.""Oh, she has a tongue, has she?"Travers replied, surveying the "case"
critically."Well, you know, she looks like it.""So she do, sir; so she do.Sandra went back to the hallway.An' Joe, 'e's a man as wouldn't 'urt a
biby--not when 'e's sober, Joe wouldn't.But 'e'd bin aht; that's where
it is; an' 'e cum 'ome lite, a bit fresh, through 'avin' bin at the
friendly lead; an' my daughter, yer see, she up an' give it to 'im.My word, she DID give it to 'im!An' Joe, 'e's a peaceable man when 'e
ain't a bit fresh; 'e's more like a friend to 'er than an 'usband, Joe
is; but 'e lost 'is temper that time, as yer may say, by reason o' bein'
fresh, an' 'e knocked 'er abaht a little, an' knocked 'er teeth aht.So
we brought 'er to the orspital."The injured woman raised herself up in bed with a vindictive scowl,
displaying as she did so the same whale-like curved back as in the other
"cases.""But we've sent 'im to the lockup," she continued, the scowl
giving way fast to a radiant joy of victory as she contemplated her
triumph "an' wot's more, I 'ad the last word of 'im.'An 'e'll git six
month for this, the neighbours says; an' when he comes aht again, my
Gord, won't 'e ketch it!""You look capable of punishing him for it," I answered, and as I spoke,
I shuddered; for I saw her expression was precisely the expression
Mrs.Le Geyt's face had worn for a passing second when her husband
accidentally trod on her dress as we left the dining-room."Well, what do you say to it now?"she asked, gliding among the beds with noiseless feet and ministering
fingers."You would think so," Travers put in, "if you had been in this ward as
often as I have, and observed their faces.Sooner
or later, that type of woman is cock-sure to be assaulted.""In a certain rank of life, perhaps," I answered, still loth to believe
it; "but not surely in ours.Gentlemen do not knock down their wives and
kick their teeth out.""No; there class tells," she admitted."They take
longer about it, and suffer more provocation.But in the end, one day, they are goaded beyond endurance; and then--a
convenient knife--a rusty old sword--a pair of scissors--anything
that comes handy, like that dagger this morning.One wild blow--half
unpremeditated--and... the thing is done!Twelve good men and true will
find it wilful murder.""But can we do nothing," I cried, "to warn poor
Hugo?"Mary went back to the bedroom."After all, character must work itself
out in its interactions with character.He has married that woman,
and he must take the consequences.John journeyed to the office.Does not each of us in life suffer
perforce the Nemesis of his own temperament?""Then is there not also a type of men who assault their wives?""That is the odd part of it--no.All kinds, good and bad, quick and
slow, can be driven to it at last.The quick-tempered stab or kick;
the slow devise some deliberate means of ridding themselves of their
burden.""But surely we might caution Le Geyt of his danger!"We cannot be at his elbow to
hold back his hand when the bad moment comes.Nobody will be there, as
a matter of fact; for women of this temperament--born naggers, in short,
since that's what it comes to--when they are also ladies, graceful and
gracious as she is; never nag at all before outsiders.To the world,
they are bland; everybody says, 'What charming talkers!'They are
'angels abroad, devils at home,' as the proverb puts it.John went to the bathroom.Some night she
will provoke him when they are alone, till she has reached his utmost
limit of endurance--and then," she drew one hand across her dove-like
throat, "it will be all finished."We human beings go straight like sheep to our natural
destiny.""No, not fatalism: insight into temperament.Fatalists believe that your
life is arranged for you beforehand from without; willy-nilly, you MUST
act so.I only believe that in this jostling world your life is mostly
determined by your own character, in its interaction with the characters
of those who surround you.It is your own
acts and deeds that make up Fate for you."For some months after this meeting neither Hilda Wade nor I saw anything
more of the Le Geyts.They left town for Scotland at the end of the
season; and when all the grouse had been duly slaughtered and all the
salmon duly hooked, they went on to Leicestershire for the opening of
fox-hunting; so it was not till after Christmas that they returned to
Campden Hill.Sebastian about Miss Wade,
and on my recommendation he had found her a vacancy at our hospital."A
most intelligent girl, Cumberledge," he remarked to me with a rare burst
of approval--for the Professor was always critical--after she had been
at work for some weeks at St."I am glad you introduced
her here.A nurse with brains is such a valuable accessory--unless, of
course, she takes to THINKING.But Nurse Wade never THINKS; she is a
useful instrument--does what she's told, and carries out one's orders
implicitly.""She knows enough to know when she doesn't know," I answered, "which is
really the rarest kind of knowledge."the Professor retorted, with his
sardonic smile."They think they understand the human body from top to
toe, when, in reality--well, they might do the measles!"Early in January, I was invited again to lunch with the Le Geyts.Hilda
Wade was invited, too.The moment we entered the house, we were both of
us aware that some grim change had come over it.Le Geyt met us in the
hall, in his old genial style, it is true; but still with a certain
reserve, a curious veiled timidity which we had not known in him.Big and good-humoured as he was, with kindly eyes beneath the shaggy
eyebrows, he seemed strangely subdued now; the boyish buoyancy had gone
out of him.He spoke rather lower than was his natural key, and welcomed
us warmly, though less effusively than of old.An |
garden | Where is Daniel? | Le Geyt, in a pretty cloth dress, neatly tailor-made,
rose to meet us, beaming the vapid smile of the perfect hostess--that
impartial smile which falls, like the rain from Heaven, on good and
bad indifferently."SO charmed to see you again, Dr.she
bubbled out, with a cheerful air--she was always cheerful, mechanically
cheerful, from a sense of duty."It IS such a pleasure to meet dear
Hugo's old friends!Nathaniel's now, aren't you?Cumberledge, to
have such a clever assistant--or, rather, fellow-worker.It must be a
great life, yours, Miss Wade; such a sphere of usefulness!If we can
only feel we are DOING GOOD--that is the main matter.For my own part,
I like to be mixed up with every good work that's going on in my
neighbourhood.I'm the soup-kitchen, you know, and I'm visitor at the
workhouse; and I'm the Dorcas Society, and the Mutual Improvement Class;
and the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals and to Children, and I'm sure
I don't know how much else; so that, what with all that, and what with
dear Hugo and the darling children"--she glanced affectionately at
Maisie and Ettie, who sat bolt upright, very mute and still, in their
best and stiffest frocks, on two stools in the corner--"I can hardly
find time for my social duties."Le Geyt," one of her visitors said with effusion,
from beneath a nodding bonnet--she was the wife of a rural dean
from Staffordshire--"EVERYBODY is agreed that YOUR social duties are
performed to a marvel.We all of us
wonder, indeed, how one woman can find time for all of it!""Well, yes," she answered, gazing down
at her fawn- dress with a half-suppressed smile of
self-satisfaction, "I flatter myself I CAN get through about as much
work in a day as anybody!"Her eye wandered round her rooms with a
modest air of placid self-approval which was almost comic.Everything in
them was as well-kept and as well-polished as good servants, thoroughly
drilled, could make it.Indeed, when I carelessly drew the Norwegian dagger from its
scabbard, as we waited for lunch, and found that it stuck in the sheath,
I almost started to discover that rust could intrude into that orderly
household.I recollected then how Hilda Wade had pointed out to me during those six
months at St.Nathaniel's that the women whose husbands assaulted them
were almost always "notable housewives," as they say in America--good
souls who prided themselves not a little on their skill in management.They were capable, practical mothers of families, with a boundless
belief in themselves, a sincere desire to do their duty, as far as they
understood it, and a habit of impressing their virtues upon others
which was quite beyond all human endurance.Placidity was their note;
provoking placidity.I felt sure it must have been of a woman of this
type that the famous phrase was coined--"Elle a toutes les vertus--et
elle est insupportable.""Clara, dear," the husband said, "shall we go in to lunch?"Are we not all waiting for YOU to give your arm
to Lady Maitland?"The lunch was perfect, and it was perfectly served.The silver glowed;
the linen was marked with H. C. Le G. in a most artistic monogram.I noticed that the table decorations were extremely pretty.Somebody
complimented our hostess upon them.Le Geyt nodded and smiled--"_I_
arranged them.Dear Hugo, in his blundering way--the big darling--forgot
to get me the orchids I had ordered.So I had to make shift with what
few things our own wee conservatory afforded.Still, with a little taste
and a little ingenuity--" She surveyed her handiwork with just pride,
and left the rest to our imaginations."Only you ought to explain, Clara--" Le Geyt began, in a deprecatory
tone."Now, you darling old bear, we won't harp on that twice-told tale
again," Clara interrupted, with a knowing smile.Let us leave one another's misdeeds and one another's explanations for
their proper sphere--the family circle.The orchids did NOT turn up,
that is the point; and I managed to make shift with the plumbago and the
geraniums.Maisie, my sweet, NOT that pudding, IF you please; too rich
for you, darling.I know your digestive capacities better than you do.I have told you fifty times it doesn't agree with you."Yes, mamma," Maisie answered, with a cowed and cowering air.I felt
sure she would have murmured, "Yes, mamma," in the selfsame tone if the
second Mrs.Le Geyt had ordered her to hang herself."I saw you out in the park, yesterday, on your bicycle, Ettie," Le
Geyt's sister, Mrs."But do you know, dear, I didn't
think your jacket was half warm enough.""Mamma doesn't like me to wear a warmer one," the child answered, with a
visible shudder of recollection, "though I should love to, Aunt Lina.""My precious Ettie, what nonsense--for a violent exercise like
bicycling!You'd be simply
stifled, darling."I caught a darted glance which accompanied the words
and which made Ettie recoil into the recesses of her pudding."But yesterday was so cold, Clara," Mrs.Mallet went on, actually
venturing to oppose the infallible authority.Might not the dear child be allowed to judge for
herself in a matter purely of her own feelings?"Le Geyt, with just the shadow of a shrug, was all sweet
reasonableness."Surely, Lina," she
remonstrated, in her frankest and most convincing tone, "_I_ must know
best what is good for dear Ettie, when I have been watching her
daily for more than six months past, and taking the greatest pains
to understand both her constitution and her disposition.She needs
hardening, Ettie does.Le Geyt shuffled uneasily in his chair.Big man as he was, with his
great black beard and manly bearing, I could see he was afraid to differ
from her overtly."Well,--m--perhaps, Clara," he began, peering from
under the shaggy eyebrows, "it would be best for a delicate child like
Ettie--"
Mrs."Ah, I forgot," she cooed,
sweetly."Dear Hugo never CAN understand the upbringing of children.We women know"--with a sage nod."They were wild
little savages when I took them in hand first--weren't you, Maisie?Do
you remember, dear, how you broke the looking-glass in the boudoir, like
an untamed young monkey?Cotswould, HAVE you
seen those delightful, clever, amusing French pictures at that place in
Suffolk Street?There's a man there--a Parisian--I forget his honoured
name--Leblanc, or Lenoir, or Lebrun, or something--but he's a most
humorous artist, and he paints monkeys and storks and all sorts of queer
beasties ALMOST as quaintly and expressively as you do.Mind, I say
ALMOST, for I never will allow that any Frenchman could do anything
QUITE so good, quite so funnily mock-human, as your marabouts and
professors."Le Geyt makes," the painter observed to
me, after lunch."She is one of the local secretaries of the Society for the Prevention
of Cruelty to Children," I said, drily."And charity begins at home," Hilda Wade added, in a significant aside.We walked home together as far as Stanhope Gate."And yet," I said, turning to her, as we left the
doorstep, "I don't doubt Mrs.Le Geyt really believes she IS a model
stepmother!""Of course she believes it," my witch answered."She has no more doubt
about that than about anything else.She
does everything exactly as it ought to be done--who should know, if not
she?--and therefore she is never afraid of criticism.that poor slender, tender, shrinking little Ettie!She
would harden her into a skeleton if she had her way.Nothing's much
harder than a skeleton, I suppose, except Mrs.Le Geyt's manner of
training one.""I should be sorry to think," I broke in, "that that sweet little
floating thistle-down of a child I once knew was to be done to death by
her.""Oh, as for that, she will NOT be done to death," Hilda answered, in her
confident way."I don't think, I am sure of it.Le Geyt closely all through lunch, and I'm more confident than ever
that the end is coming.He is temporarily crushed; but he is like steam
in a boiler, seething, seething, seething.One day she will sit on the
safety-valve, and the explosion will come.When it comes"--she raised
aloft one quick hand in the air as if striking a dagger home--"good-bye
to her!"For the next few months I saw much of Le Geyt; and the more I saw of
him, the more I saw that my witch's prognosis was essentially correct.Le Geyt, in her unobtrusive way, held a
quiet hand over her husband which became increasingly apparent.In the
midst of her fancy-work (those busy fingers were never idle) she kept
her eyes well fixed on him.Now and again I saw him glance at his
motherless girls with what looked like a tender, protecting regret;
especially when "Clara" had been most openly drilling them; but he dared
not interfere.She was crushing their spirit, as she was crushing their
father's--and all, bear in mind, for the best of motives!She had their
interest at heart; she wanted to do what was right for them.Her manner
to him and to them was always honey-sweet--in all externals; yet one
could somehow feel it was the velvet glove that masked the iron hand;
not cruel, not harsh even, but severely, irresistibly, unflinchingly
crushing."Ettie, my dear, get your brown hat at once.I did not ask you, my child, for YOUR opinion on the
weather.Headaches are caused
by want of exercise.Nothing so good for a touch of headache as a nice
brisk walk in Kensington Gardens.Maisie, don't hold your sister's hand
like that; it is imitation sympathy!You are aiding and abetting her
in setting my wishes at naught.What _I_ require is
CHEERFUL obedience."A bland, autocratic martinet: smiling, inexorable!Poor, pale Ettie grew
thinner and wanner under her law daily, while Maisie's temper, naturally
docile, was being spoiled before one's eyes by persistent, needless
thwarting.As spring came on, however, I began to hope that things were
really mending.Le Geyt looked brighter; some of his own careless,
happy-go-lucky self came back again at intervals.Sandra moved to the bathroom.He told me once, with
a wistful sigh, that he thought of sending the children to school in the
country--it would be better for them, he said, and would take a little
work off dear Clara's shoulders; for never even to me was he disloyal
to Clara.He went on to say that the
great difficulty in the way was... Clara.She was SO conscientious; she
thought it her duty to look after the children herself, and couldn't
bear to delegate any part of that duty to others.Besides, she had such
an excellent opinion of the Kensington High School!When I told Hilda Wade of this, she set her teeth together and answered
at once: "That settles it!HE will insist upon
their going, to save them from that woman's ruthless kindness; and SHE
will refuse to give up any part of what she calls her duty.HE will
reason with her; he will plead for his children; SHE will be adamant.Not angry--it is never the way of that temperament to get angry--just
calmly, sedately, and insupportably provoking.When she goes too far,
he will flare up at last; some taunt will rouse him; the explosion will
come; and... the children will go to their Aunt Lina, whom they dote
upon.When all is said and done, it is the poor man I pity!""That was a bow drawn at a venture.It may be a little sooner; it may
be a little later.But--next week or next month--it is coming: it is
coming!"June smiled upon us once more; and on the afternoon of the 13th, the
anniversary of our first lunch together at the Le Geyts, I was up at my
work in the accident ward at St."Well, the ides of June
have come, Sister Wade!"I said, when I met her, parodying Caesar."But not yet gone," she answered; and a profound sense of foreboding
spread over her speaking face as she uttered the words."Why, I dined there last night," I cried; "and
all seemed exceptionally well.""The calm before the storm, perhaps," she murmured.Just at that moment I heard a boy crying in the street: "Pall mall
Gazette; 'ere y'are; speshul edishun!Pall Mall, extry speshul!"I walked down into the street and bought
a paper.There it stared me in the face on the middle page: "Tragedy
at Campden Hill: Well-known Barrister Murders his Wife.After I left
their house, the night before, husband and wife must have quarrelled,
no doubt over the question of the children's schooling; and at some
provoking word, as it seemed, Hugo must have snatched up a knife--"a
little ornamental Norwegian dagger," the report said, "which happened
to lie close by on the cabinet in the drawing-room," and plunged it
into his wife's heart."The unhappy lady died instantaneously, by all
appearances, and the dastardly crime was not discovered by the servants
till eight o'clock this morning.I rushed up with the news to Nurse Wade, who was at work in the accident
ward.She turned pale, but bent over her patient and said nothing.I groaned out at last; "for us who know
all--that poor Le Geyt will be hanged for it!Hanged for attempting to
protect his children!"Daniel journeyed to the garden."He will NOT be hanged," my witch answered, with the same unquestioning
confidence as ever.I asked, astonished once more at this bold prediction.She went on bandaging the arm of the patient whom she was attending."Because... he will commit suicide," she replied, without moving a
muscle.She stuck a steel safety-pin with deft fingers into the roll of lint."When I have finished my day's work," she answered slowly, still
continuing the bandage, "I may perhaps find time to tell you."CHAPTER IV
THE EPISODE OF THE MAN WHO WOULD NOT COMMIT SUICIDE
After my poor friend Le Geyt had murdered his wife, in a sudden access
of uncontrollable anger, under the deepest provocation, the police
naturally began to inquire for him.It is a way they have; the police
are no respecters of persons; neither do they pry into the question of
motives.A murder is for them a murder, and
a murderer a murderer; it is not their habit to divide and distinguish
between case and case with Hilda Wade's analytical accuracy.Nathaniel's permitted me, on the evening of
the discovery, I rushed round to Mrs.Mallet's, Le Geyt's sister.I
had been detained at the hospital for some hours, however, watching a
critical case; and by the time I reached Great Stanhope Street I found
Hilda Wade, in her nurse's dress, there before me.Sebastian, it seemed,
had given her leave out for the evening.She was a supernumerary nurse,
attached to his own observation-cots as special attendant for scientific
purposes, and she could generally get an hour or so whenever she
required it.Mallet had been in the breakfast-room with Hilda before I arrived;
but as I reached the house she rushed upstairs to wash |
hallway | Where is Sandra? | "You said just now at Nathaniel's," I burst out, "that Le Geyt would
not be hanged: he would commit suicide.Hilda sank into a chair by the open window, pulled a flower abstractedly
from the vase at her side, and began picking it to pieces, floret after
floret, with twitching fingers."Well, consider
his family history," she burst out at last, looking up at me with her
large brown eyes as she reached the last petal."Heredity counts.... And
after such a disaster!"She said "disaster," not "crime"; I noted mentally the reservation
implied in the word.But what about
Le Geyt's family history?"I could not recall any instance of suicide
among his forbears."Well--his mother's father was General Faskally, you know," she replied,
after a pause, in her strange, oblique manner.Le Geyt is General
Faskally's eldest grandson.""Exactly," I broke in, with a man's desire for solid fact in place of
vague intuition."But I fail to see quite what that has to do with it.""The General was killed in India during the Mutiny.""I remember, of course--killed, bravely fighting.""Yes; but it was on a forlorn hope, for which he volunteered, and in
the course of which he is said to have walked straight into an almost
obvious ambuscade of the enemy's.""Now, my dear Miss Wade"--I always dropped the title of "Nurse," by
request, when once we were well clear of Nathaniel's,--"I have every
confidence, you are aware, in your memory and your insight; but I do
confess I fail to see what bearing this incident can have on poor Hugo's
chances of being hanged or committing suicide."She picked a second flower, and once more pulled out petal after petal.As she reached the last again, she answered, slowly: "You must have
forgotten the circumstances.General Faskally
had made a serious strategical blunder at Jhansi.He had sacrificed
the lives of his subordinates needlessly.He could not bear to face the
survivors.In the course of the retreat, he volunteered to go on this
forlorn hope, which might equally well have been led by an officer of
lower rank; and he was permitted to do so by Sir Colin in command, as a
means of retrieving his lost military character.He carried his point,
but he carried it recklessly, taking care to be shot through the heart
himself in the first onslaught.That was virtual suicide--honourable
suicide to avoid disgrace, at a moment of supreme remorse and horror.""You are right," I admitted, after a minute's consideration."I see it
now--though I should never have thought of it."Sandra moved to the bathroom."That is the use of being a woman," she answered.I waited a second once more, and mused."Still, that is only one
doubtful case," I objected."There was another, you must remember: his uncle Alfred.""No; HE died in his bed, quietly."Why, that was before our
time--in the days of the Chartist riots!"She smiled a certain curious sibylline smile of hers.Her earnest face
looked prettier than ever."I told you I could remember many things that
happened before I was born," she answered.Have I not often explained to you that I am no diviner?I read no book of fate; I call no spirits from the vasty deep.Daniel journeyed to the garden.I simply
remember with exceptional clearness what I read and hear.And I have
many times heard the story about Alfred Faskally.""So have I--but I forget it."Will it subjugate or expel the Africans, or will they fade away like
the Indians of our country?If colonization by Europeans fail, will the
African remain the sole inhabitant of the country as barbarian or
civilized?Egypt is now controlled by the English, but its climate is too
unhealthy, and its surrounding too unfavorable, for Englishmen; and we
may safely assume that their occupation will be temporary, or, if
permanent, not as colonists.They will remain, as in India, foreigners
and rulers, until the subjugated people rise in their power and expel
them, and return to their old life.The English rule, though possibly
beneficial to Egypt, is hated by the natives, who demand Egypt for the
Egyptians.Leaving Egypt, we pass an uninhabitable coast, until we come to the
French colonies of Algiers.It is nearly sixty years since the French
took possession of Algiers.There has been a large emigration from
France; but the climate, while excellent as a winter climate for
invalids and others, is unfavorable for a permanent habitation,
especially for infants.The births in one year have never equalled the
deaths.When Algeria was first conquered by the French, it was a
wilderness, but is now a garden.The cultivation of the grape has been
most successful, and extensive iron-mines have been opened.The French
are gradually pushing their way from Algiers across the desert to
Timbuctu, and also from Senegambia to Timbuctu.The expense of
maintaining Algeria has greatly exceeded any revenue derived from it.Though many doubt the political wisdom of retaining it, yet the French
have too much pride to acknowledge that the enterprise has been in any
way a failure; and they will undoubtedly hold it, and perhaps found an
empire.Senegambia and the coast of Guinea, claimed by the French and
English, are low and moist, filled with swamps and lagoons, which will
prevent any European colonization.Mary journeyed to the bathroom.South of the Kongo, the Portuguese claim a wide section of country
running across Africa.They have occupied this country over two hundred
years.They have done little towards colonizing, and only hold a few
trading-posts on the coast and in the interior, dealing principally in
slaves, ivory, and gold; and it may well be doubted whether they have
the stamina or ability to colonize this country, or to produce any
permanent impression upon it.The south portion of Africa, from the 18th parallel on the Atlantic to
the 26th parallel on the Indian Ocean, is generally fertile; and the
climate is favorable to Europeans, and is capable of sustaining a large
population.The growth of Cape Colony has been very slow, but a more
rapid growth is anticipated.We believe it will be permanently occupied
by the English, who will dispossess the aborigines, and form a great
and permanent English State.The coast of Zanzibar, occupied by the
Germans and English, is rich and fertile, the climate unhealthy; but
when the mountain-ranges are crossed, and the elevated plateaus and
lake regions are reached, the interior resembles the Kongo region.Massaua and Suakin, on the Red Sea, are unhealthy and worthless, unless
connected by railroad with the upper Nile.There remains equatorial Africa, including the French settlements on
the Ogowe, the region about Lake Chad, the Kongo and its tributaries,
and the lake region.The more we learn of equatorial Africa, the
greater its natural advantages appear to be.The rivers open up the
country in a favorable manner for trade and settlement.Its elevation
from 2,000 to 3,000 feet will render it healthy, though this elevation
is only equal to from ten degrees to fourteen degrees of north
latitude.Here all the fruits of the torrid zone, the fruits and most
of the grains of the temperate zone, cotton, India-rubber, and
sugar-cane, are found.The country has been unhealthy, a great many Europeans have died, and
few have been able to remain more than two or three years without
returning to Europe to recuperate.These facts seem to show that the
climate is not healthy for Europeans.But the mortality has been much
greater than it will be when the country is settled and the unhealthy
stations have been exchanged for healthier localities.Every new
country has its peculiar dangers, which must be discovered.When these
obstacles are understood and overcome, Europeans will probably occupy
all this region, and it will become a European colony.If European colonization is successful, European civilization will come
into contact with African barbarism.Where such a contest is carried on
in a country where the climate is equally favorable to the two races,
it can only result in the subjugation or destruction of the inferior
race.If the climate is unfavorable to the white population, then,
unless the inferior is subjected to the superior, the white population
will fail in colonizing the country, and the <DW64> will either slowly
emerge from barbarism, or return to his original condition.The <DW64> has never developed any high degree of civilization; and even
if, when brought into contact with civilization, he has made
considerable progress, when that contact ceased he has deteriorated
into barbarism.But, on the other hand, he has never faded away and
disappeared, like the Indian of America and the natives of the Southern
Archipelago.Nature has spread a bountiful and never-ending harvest before the
<DW64>, and given to him a climate where neither labor of body or mind,
neither clothing nor a house, is essential to his comfort.All nature
invites to an idle life; and it is only through compulsion, and contact
with a life from without, that his condition can be improved.In Africa a contest is going on between civilization and barbarism,
Christianity and Mohammedanism, freedom and slavery, such as the world
has never seen.Who can fail to be interested in the results of this
conflict?We know that Africa is capable of the very highest
civilization, for it was the birthplace of all civilization.To it we
are indebted for the origin of all our arts and sciences, and it
possesses to-day the most wonderful works of man.Let us hope that
Africa, whose morning was so bright, and whose night has been so dark,
will yet live to see the light of another and higher civilization.[Illustration: APPROPRIATION OF AFRICA BY EUROPEANS.REPORT--GEOGRAPHY OF THE LAND.In preparing this first report as one of the vice-presidents of the
Society, I have been obliged to interpret the intent of our by-laws in
the requirement that the vice-presidents shall present at the end of
the year summaries of the work done throughout the world in their
several departments.The amount of information that can be accumulated
during twelve months, if referred to in detail, is simply appalling; to
compile it for the Society would be a great labor, and when completed
it would be largely the duplication of the work of others, already
accessible in the journals of other societies, and in special
publications devoted to this and kindred subjects.That such a detailed
historical journal should be maintained by the Society hardly admits of
a question.I had hoped to see one inaugurated during the first year of
our work that would have embraced all the departments of the Society:
but must confess with some disappointment, to having been too sanguine
and to have over-estimated the interest that might be excited in the
members of a new organization.We need a journal of the kind for
reference; for our associates, ourselves, and our many friends we hope
to attract by the information we may supply them.But it cannot well be
compiled by one man engaged upon the every-day affairs of life, and I
have not made any attempt in that direction, even in those matters
circumscribed by the section of the Society under my charge.* * * * *
I have found little in the affairs of Europe that it seems necessary to
bring to your attention; indeed, the past twelve months seem quite
barren of any great events in the progress of Geographic knowledge.This, perhaps, is to be expected at intervals of longer or shorter
periods, as it is governed by peoples of the most advanced
civilization, who have availed themselves of all the progress of
science to explore and develop the land on which they live, until there
is little left of nature to be learned, unless science shall determine
new truths to bind by stronger links the truths already found.We may
look for the greatest changes here, both now and in the future, in the
work of man pressing on in the eager strife to improve his condition
above others less fortunately situated; seeking advantage in the
peculiarities of his environment to open new channels of trade that
will divert the profits from the older routes.Of many schemes suggested in furtherance of such ends, there are few
that develop into realities within a generation.Nature may be against
them when the facts are fully learned, the profit may not warrant the
outlay, and political considerations may keep in abeyance that which
otherwise may be admitted to be good.Thus the grand scheme to make an
inland sea of the Desert of Sahara is impossible of execution from the
fact that the desert is many hundreds of feet higher than the ocean.The long talked of project to cut the Isthmus of Corinth, now
accomplished, was a theme of discussion for twenty centuries or more.And the later project to tunnel the English Channel we have seen
defeated through the fears of a few timid men.Perchance the grander
one, now introduced with some seriousness, to bridge the channel, may
meet with a better fate.The route for the ship canal to connect the Baltic and the North Seas,
is reported to have been determined upon and the preliminary work of
construction to have been commenced.And we learn that a proposition is
being discussed to connect the Danube with the Baltic Sea by way of the
Vistula.However chimerical such a project may seem to us, we cannot at
this time discredit those who believe in it.It shows that restless
spirit that predominates the age, striving for the mastery of the
commercial world.Politically, Europe has seen no geographical change,
but those conversant with affairs apprehend a military catastrophe at
no distant date, that will probably embroil the stronger nations and
endanger the existence of the weaker ones.Having practically acquired a knowledge of their territories, the
people of these nations are diligently seeking to develop greater
things in the study of all the earth, and we have thus seen formed as a
means to this end, what is now known as the International Geodetic
Association.The primary object of this Association is to determine the
form of the earth.It is an inquiry of absorbing interest, and the
geodetic work in America must eventually contribute an important factor
in its solution.We may therefore hope that the bill now before the
Congress authorizing the United States to have representation in the
Association, will become a law.The free interchange between the
continents that would thus be established, would be of incalculable
benefit to both in the prosecution of this important scientific labor.If we turn to the adjoining continent of Asia, there is still open a
large field for Geographic research.Peopled as it has been, largely by
semi-civilized races for many centuries, we might have expected that
the book of nature that might be opened would long since have been
spread before us; but the exclusiveness of this semi-civilization has
been a stumbling-block, until it may be said that the wise men of her
nations have lived only that the masses should not learn.Of the
Political Geography of this great region we have a fair conception, and
of the Physical conditions it may be said we know them generally.Enlightened men have been hammering at the borders with the powerful
support of progressive nations, and a few have even passed the confines
of exclusiveness and brought back to us marvellous tales of ancient
grandeur.Men have sought disguise that they might tread on the
forbidden ground, and many have lost their lives in efforts to gain the
secrets that have been so persistently guarded.But the march of
civilization is not to be thwarted by the semi-barbarous; they may yet
impede it, as they have in the past, but it can be only for a time; the
impulse is sure to come, when the thirst for knowledge and power by the
antagonistic races will sweep all barriers before it, however strong.The contemplated railway across the continent to Vladivostock may be
the culminating step in overcoming these refractory peoples and opening
their territories to the march of progress.Sandra moved to the hallway.We have seen on our own
continent the potent influence of these iron ways, and it is not too
much to believe that even in the strange surroundings of the Orient
they will exercise a power against which exclusiveness and superstition
will be forced to give way.A great continent
believed to contain immense resources, but peopled with dark-hued
native races, barbarous in their tendencies, and frequently deficient
in intellect, and yet withal showing at times a savage grandeur that
|
garden | Where is Daniel? | Sandra moved to the bathroom.We may recall Carthage and Alexandria, and all the wonders
of ancient Egypt that live to the confusion of our own day, while those
who patterned them have been lost beyond the bounds of even the most
ancient history: and look with trembling awe upon the degradation that
has followed, the boundless dissipation of the learning of ages, until
we are left only such remnants that our most cultivated imaginations
can scarce build a superstructure worthy to raise upon the ruins.But a new era is opening, the intelligence of later years is spreading
over these once fruitful fields, and slowly but surely modern ideas are
advancing into the midst of the unknown chaos, and in time will restore
the great advantages that have lapsed in the ignorance of ages.The
nations of Europe vie with one another to extend their possessions, and
in the mad race for precedence are reclaiming even the waste places as
footholds by which they hope to reach the power and wealth they see may
be developed in the future.Explorers have brought back wondrous tales
that have excited the cupidity of those who profit in the barter of
nature's products, until vast schemes have been projected to seize the
wealth believed to be within easy grasp.Daring spirits discover new countries, and through the reports of the
marvels they have seen, inspire their more cautious countrymen to
venture into unknown fields in the hope of gain.The discontented, too,
seek isolation and fancied independence in new regions, and thus is
formed the nucleus that parent countries seize upon, encourage, and
develop into colonies, that in time may revolutionize a continent, and
seek a place among the nations of the world.This sequence of events
has been gradually progressing in Africa, and has been greatly
accelerated by the discoveries of recent years.A large section of the
interior has now been opened to trade and colonization in the formation
of the "Congo free State."It marks an era in the development of the
continent that promises to be fruitful of rapid advance.The Geographic
journals have contained many pages of notes during the year, showing
the activity of explorers in supplying the Geographical details of the
more accessible regions.But there is an area nearly half as large as
that of the United States through which the explorer has not yet
penetrated; a field of great interest to Geographers, but they may have
years yet to wait, before they may read the story.Daniel journeyed to the garden.In the East Indies and among the islands of the Pacific there is still
work for the Geographer of the most interesting character, and, indeed,
for the explorer too.Those who depend upon charts of the great ocean
realize too frequently the imperfect determination of the positions of
many of these isolated landmarks, and the dangers surrounding them.This is more properly work for governments than for individuals, and we
may hope the day is not far distant when American officers may again
roam the seas in Geographic research, and bring fresh laurels to crown
the enterprise of our people.The great American continent, the New World as it is called, presents
an example of progress of which history affords us none similar--a
marked instance of the power of intelligent perseverance to conquer in
new fields and bring under man's dominion for his use and welfare even
some of the elements themselves.The last century has shown a branch of
one of the old parent stocks, divorced from many of their traditions
and left to themselves, imbued with a spirit of progress that has
advanced with such giant strides, that in a generation we have seen
more strange things than had come upon the world before in centuries.At the birth of our nation the now populous district on the Ohio and
the Great Lakes was the "far west," roamed over by native tribes.The
great northwest of to-day was marked upon the maps as "unexplored," and
the confines of the continent on the Pacific were known more on the
faith of good reports than the knowledge of observation; while that
vast territory west of the Mississippi was not known at all, or only
through the legends transmitted from the "Fathers" who had partly
occupied it in following their holy calling.Mary journeyed to the bathroom.And yet within half a
century explorers have traversed nearly every square mile, science has
discovered in it treasures of knowledge that have taught the world: and
instead of a vast region of wandering tribes, we find a civilization,
energetic, progressive, and still pressing on to reclaim even that
which has been considered waste.Indeed, so rapidly have the choice
areas been occupied, that it may be but a few years when none will be
left, and the question of over-population may press upon us as to-day
it presses upon older nations.While this state of affairs may not
excite present alarm, it is a matter of congratulation that the
Congress at its last session provided the initial step for an
exhaustive examination of the great arid region, to determine what
portion of it may be reclaimed by irrigation.And in Alaska the desirability of a better knowledge of our possessions
has been emphasized by the fear of international complications on the
boundary, which has resulted in a small appropriation by the Congress
for surveys, with a view to obtaining a better knowledge of the
country, whereby a more reasonable delimitation of the boundary can be
made.It is gratifying to note that the Bureaus of the Government service
devoted to the practical development of the economic resources of our
great territory, have been conducted during the year with the energy
that has marked their progress heretofore.But it is yet too early to
place a value upon the special results of the year's work, and I will
leave their consideration, therefore, to my successor.I look upon the publications of the Topographical Surveys of the States
of New Jersey and Massachusetts as the most noteworthy Geographic
productions in this country of recent years.Massachusetts has been the
first State to avail herself of the full facilities offered by the
General Government in preparing maps of their territories on working
scales, although New Jersey was earlier in the field and obtained all
the assistance that could be rendered by the laws in force at the time.The expense of the Survey in Massachusetts has been borne about equally
between the State and United States, exclusive of the trigonometrical
work; and the total cost to the State being so light, we may hope
eventually to see similar, or even more detailed work, undertaken by
all the States of the Union.The atlas sheets thus far produced are
most pleasing specimens of the cartographer's art, each feature or
class of detail having been given a weight that permits easy reading
without producing undue prominence in any.In the atlas sheets of New
Jersey, published by the State, the same admirable effects have been
produced, but in a different style of treatment, the questions involved
being more complicated through the introduction of greater detail.Massachusetts is also in the lead in prosecuting a precise
determination of town boundaries by a systematic reference of all
corner marks to the stations of the triangulation that now covers the
State territory.The expense of this work is borne by the State, with
the exception of a small amount in salaries to United States officers
detailed to execute portions of the work under existing laws.Sandra moved to the hallway.The total
cost will probably approximate the total cost of the Topographical
Survey, but it is claimed that when completed the great advantages to
be derived from it will result in large savings to the people of the
State.Daniel moved to the office.Our neighbors in the Dominion of Canada have been active of late years
in developing their resources.The completion of the Canadian Pacific
Railway has opened a large fertile territory for settlement, and the
railway itself promises to become a route for international traffic in
serious rivalry with the transcontinental roads in the United States.Projects have also been formed for a short rail connection to Hudson's
Bay, with a view to shipments during the summer direct to Europe--but
there seems to be reasonable question of the practicability of such a
route.During the past two seasons Canada has also been engaged upon
extensive explorations in the Northwest territory, along the boundary
line of Alaska.The parties, I learn, are only just returning from
their last summer's labors, and it will probably be some time in the
winter before we can supplement the chapter of a year ago from this
interesting region.But little advance has been made during late years in solving the
mysteries of the Arctic.Daniel went to the garden.In the past summer a party has crossed the
southern part of Greenland, but advices have not yet come to hand that
would indicate the value of the exploration.A second party was
organized to follow the east coast of Greenland to the northward, that
we may hear from at a later date, although reports already received, if
true, would indicate the effort had been baffled by adverse weather.A
few months ago an expedition was seriously contemplated by Europeans to
the frozen seas of the Antarctic.As it was to have been backed by
energetic business men it doubtless would have been amply fitted for
its purpose, and we may, therefore, sincerely regret the rumor that the
project has been postponed--if not abandoned.In the Central American States a Congress has been assembled to
consider the unification of the States under one general government--a
union, the possibility of which has long been discussed, but from the
jealousy of rival factions has heretofore seemed impossible of
accomplishment; but there is some hope that the labors of the Congress
now in session will prove more successful.Our greatest Geographic interest in these States is centered in the
projects for interoceanic canals.The scheme to cut the Isthmus of
Panama, undertaken by the eminent French engineer, De Lesseps, has been
beset with many difficulties, not the least of them arising from the
improvident management of those having immediate charge of the works.It is impossible to foresee the eventual outcome of this great work, as
all reports expressing decided views on the subject are suspected of a
coloring from the personal opinions of the authors of them.The
original plans have been modified to include locks for crossing "a
summit level."This is stated to be only a temporary expedient to
secure the opening of the canal at an early date, and that eventually
the work will be completed on the original plan of a "through cut."It
seems evident from the latest reports that work will be continued as
long as money is forthcoming to meet the expenses, and as the modified
scheme to overcome the high land by locks instead of a through cut,
greatly simplifies the engineering problems, there is a probability of
the canal becoming an accomplished fact.A second route by way of the
San Juan River and Lake Nicaragua, that has also been under discussion
for many years, has recently been energetically advocated by American
engineers, with the result of the actual location of a line and careful
cross-sectioning during the past year.A company has been formed and
obtained a charter from the State of Vermont, and as it is represented
to be backed by abundant capital, we may, ere many years, have the
gratification of seeing an interoceanic canal opened under American
auspices.Many speculations have been indulged in as to the probable effect of a
canal through this Isthmus on the carrying trade of the world, the
impetus it might give to the opening up of new commercial relations,
and even the effect it may have in advancing our civilization to
distant nations.Such speculations are hardly pertinent to this report,
but we may well reflect upon the changes that have been wrought since
the opening of the canal through the Isthmus of Suez, and conceive, if
we can, the leveling up that may accrue to the political divisions of
the western world from the same influences that will cut the channel
through her Isthmus.South America has been free from serious agitation until a recent date;
although some of the States have not failed to show the usual internal
dissensions in political affairs.Late advices intimate a possible
difficulty between Venezuela and England relative to the control of a
large territory embracing the mouth of the Orinoco River, which, should
it result in the permanent occupation of the disputed territory by the
European power, may wield a marked influence in the development of this
section of the continent.A project that has long been agitated, to construct a continental
railway that would give direct rail communication with the northern
continent, has recently been resumed, and we can but hope with an
earnestness that will lead to its accomplishment.Large areas of this
interesting country have not yet been revealed to us, nor can we expect
to acquire a full knowledge of its Geographic wonders until the means
of internal communication have become more assured.The recent inauguration of a Geographical Society in Peru is also an
important step towards our acquirement of more detailed information,
and doubtless will redound to the credit of its founders in the
interest it will stimulate in kindred societies over the world.Geology is a science so intimately connected with Geography that I
should feel delinquent did I not include a reference to it in this
report, however inadequate my remarks may be to do justice to the
subject.To Geographers the origin of the varied distribution of the land and
water, the cause and growth of mountains, plains, oceans, lakes and
rivers, the great changes that have taken place on the face of the
earth in times past, is of absorbing interest, rivaled only by their
desire for perfect knowledge of that which may be seen to-day.Had the
prehistoric man been gifted with the intelligence of his descendants in
the present epoch, he would have left for us a record that would have
been valuable indeed and cleared our way of much that now is
speculation, and but too often food for words.True it is, however,
that if the mysteries of the past were revealed to us we should lose
the pleasures their study affords and perhaps there would follow a
degeneration of species through the loss of stimulus they now provide.How long ago man lived and might have made a record is still a disputed
question, but one that involves too, the record of the earth herself.The association of human remains in the Glacial drift brings that epoch
in the earth's history nearer to us by several hundred thousand years,
and instead of speculating upon it as having occurred nearly a million
years ago, geologists must consider whether it was not probably
coincident with the most recent eccentricity of the earth which
astronomers teach us happened about ten or fifteen thousand years ago.Geology must also fit her facts to mathematical science if we give
credence to latest computations.A mathematician has now advanced the
theory that at the average depth of about five miles below the surface
there is a belt of "no strain," the result of opposing forces above and
below it, a belt that from the nature of the case is impenetrable,
through which, what is above cannot pass to what is below, and what is
below cannot pass to what is above, a condition that would confine the
origin of all seismical and volcanic disturbances and their consequent
Geographical changes, to a mere shell of the crust.[1] The result of
the computation is certainly interesting and we may hope will not be
lost sight of in future discussions, however it may share in gaining
support or opposition.It is based upon an assumption of the
temperature when the earth began to cool, to assume a lower temperature
draws the belt nearer to the surface and a higher temperature is
believed to be inconsistent with our knowledge of what heat may effect.This belt is stated to be gradually sinking, however, and the
computation, therefore, involves a term representing time, and I
venture to suggest as estimates of Geologic time are generally
indefinite and seem to be inexhaustible, an abundance can probably be
supplied to sink the belt deep enough for all theoretical purposes.[Footnote 1: In the American Geologist for February, 1888, Prof.Reade
protests against the construction of the theory of a "belt or level of
no strain" placing the foci of earthquakes and other disturbances in
the strata above the belt.]More interesting to Geographers are the conceptions of ancient forms
suggested by the views recently advanced by Prof.Shaler in a late
number of Science (June 15, 1888), on "The Crenitic Hypothesis and
Mountain Building."To let the imagination have full play, we may
conceive that where we now have extensive mountain ranges, there were
formerly great plains of sedimentation, and where we see the process of
sedimentation active to-day there may be great mountains in the future.And also in his inquiry into the "Origin of the divisions between the
layers of stratified rocks" (Proced.xxiii), we may be carried away with the immensity of the changes
suggested.The recurring destruction of submarine life to contribute in
the building of the rocks of the Continents: the apparently endless
cycles of emergence of the land and subsidence of the waters, to leave
the Geographical conditions we see to-day, furnish additional evidence
of the wonders of the past and force upon us anew the realization of
how little in the great evolution is the epoch in which we live.American Geologists have advanced the knowledge of the world; only
recently the American methods of Glacial |
garden | Where is Daniel? | Sandra moved to the bathroom.Science, May, 1888), and that the Science is active among our
countrymen is evidenced by the formation of a Geological Society and
the establishment of a magazine devoted exclusively to its interests.America, too, contributed largely to the Geologic Congress recently
held in London, and it is pleasing to note that the next session of the
Congress is promised for Philadelphia.At the suggestion of one of our associates I call the attention of the
students of the science, and indeed all interested in it, and also of
Geographers, to a recent publication entitled, "The Building of the
British Isles," by Jukes-Browne (Scribner & Welford, N.It has
been characterized as the best treatise on the evolution of the land
areas which has yet appeared; from the Geologist point of view it is
the book of the year.Another associate recommends to most attentive
consideration the recent articles on "Three formations of the Middle
Atlantic <DW72>," by W. J. McGee (Am.Journal Science, Feb.-June, 1888),
as one of the most original essays of recent years.It also gives me great pleasure to bring to your attention an article
on the "Physical Geography of New England," by Wm.M. Davis, in a book
on the "Butterflies of New England," by S. H. Scudder.It is hardly
necessary to recommend this publication to your perusal, as I doubt not
being from the pens of our Associates, it will excite a lively interest
in those devoted to these sciences.In conclusion permit me to refer briefly to the "National Geographic
Magazine," published by the Society, the first number of which has
recently been placed before you.It is the desire of the Committee
having charge of this publication to make it a journal of influence and
usefulness.Daniel journeyed to the garden.Mary journeyed to the bathroom.There is abundant material in the Society to furnish the
substance, if those who have it at command will make legitimate use of
their opportunities.It would be unfortunate if the text should be
confined to the papers presented to the Society.It was not the
intention of the Board of Managers that such should be the case, when
the publication was determined upon.On the contrary, it was the
expectation that there would be original communications from many
sources: essays, reviews and notes on the various subjects of the five
Departments in which the Society is organized, not necessarily from the
members, but also from their friends interested in these divisions of
the general subject.While this expectation has been realized in a
measure, there is room for improvement and it is hoped the future will
show an increasing interest and more generous contributions.REPORT--GEOGRAPHY OF THE SEA.Sandra moved to the hallway.In presenting to the National Geographic Society this first annual
summary of work accomplished in the domain of the Geography of the Sea,
I find it impossible satisfactorily to limit the range of subjects that
may be assigned to it.The great ocean is so large a factor in the
operations of Nature, that the attempt to describe one of its features
speedily involves the consideration of others lying more or less in
that shadowy region which may be claimed with equal force by other
sections of the Society.It is to be understood, therefore, that the
following account merely touches upon several of the characteristics of
the oceanic waters, and is not in any sense an attempt to treat them
all.This being the first report to the Society it has been thought
advisable to give a brief outline of the progress made in our knowledge
of the sea since 1749, when Ellis reported depths of 650 and 891
fathoms off the north-west coast of Africa.Even at that time an
apparatus was employed to lift water from different depths in order to
ascertain its temperature.It does not appear that this achievement
gave impetus to further efforts in this direction, for, except some
comparatively small depths and a few temperatures recorded by Cook and
Forster in their voyage around the world in 1772-75, and in 1773 by
Phipps in the Arctic, at the close of the last century there was but
little known of the physical conditions of the sea.At the beginning of the present century, however, more activity was
shown by several governments, and expeditions sent out by France,
England and Russia, in various directions, began to lay the foundation
of the science of Oceanography.Exploration of little known regions was the main purpose of most of
these expeditions, but attention was paid also to the observation and
investigation of oceanic conditions, so that accounts of soundings,
temperatures of sea water at various depths, its salinity and specific
gravity, the drift of currents, etc., form part of their records.The first to give us a glimpse of the character of the bottom at great
depths was Sir John Ross, the famous Arctic explorer.While sounding in
Ponds Inlet, Baffin Bay, in 1819, by means of an ingeniously
constructed contrivance called a deep sea clam, he succeeded in
detaching and bringing up portions of the bottom from depths as great
as 1,000 fathoms.The fact that this mud contained living organisms was
the first proof of life at depths where it was thought impossible for
it to exist.The truth of this discovery, however, was not generally
accepted, many eminent men of science on both sides of the Atlantic
contending for and against it, and the question was not finally settled
until long afterward, in 1860, when, by the raising of a broken
telegraph cable in the Mediterranean, unimpeachable evidence of the
existence of life at the greatest depths in that sea was obtained.The
science, however, remained in its infancy until about 1850, when Maury
originated his system of collecting observations from all parts of the
globe, and by his indomitable energy aroused the interest of the whole
civilized world in the investigation of the physical phenomena of the
sea.Daniel moved to the office.Through Maury's efforts the United States Government issued an
invitation for a maritime conference, which was held in Brussels in
1853 and attended by representatives of the governments of Belgium,
Denmark, France, Great Britain, Netherlands, Norway, Portugal, Russia,
Sweden and the United States.The main object of the conference, to
devise a uniform system of meteorological observations and records, was
accomplished.“What special good do I hope to accomplish by this address?”
When you have made the object definite, you are better prepared to adapt
all available means to its accomplishment.It should also be stated that
the more objects are subdivided the more precision will be augmented,
though there is a limit beyond which such division would be at the
expense of other qualities.Your object will usually have reference to the opinion or the action of
those addressed, and the firmer your own conviction of the truth of that
opinion, or the desirableness of that action, the greater, other things
being equal, your persuasive power will be.If you do not know exactly
what you wish, there is little probability that your audience will care
to interpret your thought; they will take it for granted that you really
mean nothing, and even if you do incidentally present some truth
supported by good arguments, they will consider it a matter not calling
for any immediate consideration or definite decision on their part.The speaker’s objects are comparatively few and are often determined by
his very position and employment.If you are engaged in a political
canvass you are seeking to confirm and retain the votes of your own
party, while persuading over to your side the opposition.Votes
constitute the object you seek, and to win them is your purpose.But
there are many ways by which that desirable end may be accomplished—some
wise and noble, others ignoble.But a political orator will gain in
power by keeping clearly in view his purpose and rejecting from his
speeches all things that merely arouse and embitter opponents, without,
at the same time, contributing to strengthen the hold of the speaker’s
own party upon its members.If you are a lawyer you wish to win your case.The judge’s charge, the
jury’s verdict, are your objective points, and all mere display which
does not contribute directly or indirectly to these ends is worse than
wasted, as it may even interfere with your real purpose.Daniel went to the garden.Much of your success will depend upon keeping the right object before
you at the right time.If you aim at that which is unattainable, the
effort is not only lost, but the object which you could have reached may
in the meantime have passed out of your reach.Everybody has heard
ministers arguing against some forms of unbelief which their hearers
know nothing about.This is worse than useless; it may suggest the very
errors intended to be refuted; and if this does not result, to think
that the refutation will be stored up until the time when the errors
themselves may be encountered, is to take a most flattering view of the
length of time during which sermons as well as other discourses are
remembered.You may avoid these errors by selecting some object which is
practicable at the moment of utterance: the first right step makes all
after success possible.There is a difference between the object of a speech and its subject;
the former is the motive that impels us to speak, while the latter is
what we speak about.It is not uncommon for talkers to have a subject
without any definite object, unless it be the very general one of
complying with a form or fulfilling an engagement.When the period for
the talk comes—it would not be right to call it a speech—they take the
easiest subject they can find, express all the ideas they happen to have
about it, and leave the matter.Until such persons become in earnest,
and get a living object, true eloquence is utterly impossible.The object of a discourse is the soul, while the subject is but the
body; or, as we may say, the one is the end, while the other is the
means by which it is accomplished.John travelled to the bathroom.After the object is clearly realized
by the speaker, he can choose the subject to much better advantage.It
may happen that one object is so much more important than all other
practicable ones that it forces itself irresistibly on his attention and
thus saves the labor of choice; at other times he may have several
different objects with no particular reason for preferring one of them
in the order of time to another.In this case if a subject fills his
mind it will be well to discuss it with an aim toward the object which
may be best enforced by its means.After all, it makes but little difference which of these two is chosen
first.It is enough that when you undertake to speak you have a subject
you fully understand, and an object that warms your heart and enlists
all your powers.You can then speak, not as one who deals with
abstractions, but as having a living mission to perform.It is important that each subject should be complete in itself, and
rounded off from everything else.Its boundaries should be run with such
precision as to include all that belongs to it, but nothing more.It is
a common but grievous fault to have the same cast of ideas flowing
around every subject.There are few things in the universe which have
not some relation to everything else.If we do not, therefore, very
strictly bound our subject, we will find ourselves bringing the same
matter into each discourse and perpetually repeating our thoughts.If
ingenious in that matter, we may find a good excuse for getting our
favorite anecdotes and brilliant ideas into connection with the most
opposite kinds of subjects.An old minister once gave me an amusing
account of the manner in which he made outlines of the sermons of a
local celebrity.The first one was a very able discourse, with three
principal divisions—man’s fallen estate, the glorious means provided for
his recovery, and the fearful consequences of neglecting those means.Liking the sermon very well, my informant went to hear the same man
again.The text was new, but the first proposition, was man’s fallen
estate; the second, the glorious means provided for his recovery; and
the last, the fearful consequences of neglecting those means.Thinking
that the repetition was an accident, another trial was made.The text
was at as great a remove as possible from the other two.The first
proposition was, _man’s fallen estate_; and the others followed in due
order.This was an extreme instance of a common fault, which is by no
means confined to the ministry.When an eloquent Congressman was once
delivering a great address, a member on the opposite benches rubbed his
hands in apparently ecstatic delight, and remarked in a stage whisper,
“Oh!how I have always loved to hear that speech!” In a book of widely
circulated sermon sketches, nearly every one begins by asserting that
man has fallen and needs the helps or is liable to the evils mentioned
afterward.No doubt this primary statement is important, but it might
sometimes be taken for granted.The fault which we have here pointed out
is not uncommon in preaching.Occasionally ministers acquire such a
stereotyped form of expression that what they say in one sermon is sure
to recur, perhaps in a modified form, in all others.There is an end to the patience of man.He tires of the
same old ideas, and wishes, when a new text is taken, that it may bring
with it some novelty in the sermon.The remedy against the evil under
consideration is found in the careful selection and definition of
subjects.Give to each its own territory and guard rigidly against all
trespassers.A speaker should not only see that what he says has some
kind of connection with the subject in hand, but that it has a closer
connection with that subject than any other he may be called upon to
discuss at or near the same time.A very great lecturer advertises a
number of lectures upon topics that seem to be totally independent.Yet
all the lectures are but one, except a few paragraphs in the
introduction of each.This is really a less fault in the case of an
itinerating lecturer than in most other fields of oratory, as the same
people hear the lecture but once.Yet even then the false assumption of
intellectual riches implied in the numerous titles cannot be justified.The subject should be so well defined that we always know just what we
are speaking about.It may be of a general nature, but our knowledge of
it should be clear and adequate.This is more necessary in an extempore
than in a written speech, though the want of it will be severely felt in
the latter also.A strong, vividly defined subject will give unity to
the whole discourse, and probably leave a permanent impression on the
mind of the hearer.Mary moved to the bedroom.To aid in securing this it will be well to reduce
every subject to its simplest form, and then, by writing it as a compact
phrase or sentence, stamp it on the mind, and let it ring in every
utterance; that is, let each word aid in carrying out the central idea,
or in leading up to it.Those interminable discourses that begin
anywhere and lead nowhere, may be called speeches or sermons, by
courtesy, but they are not such.To always preserve this unity of theme and treatment is not easy, and
calls, often, for the exercise of heroic self-denial.To see in the
mind’s eye what we know would please and delight listeners, pander to
their prejudices, or gain uproarious applause, and then turn away with
the words unspoken, merely because it is foreign to our subject—this is
as sore a trial as for a miser on a sinking ship to abandon his gold.But it is equally necessary, if we would not fall into grave rhetorical
errors.Any speech which is constructed on the plan of putting into it
all the wise or witty or pleasing things the speaker can think of will
be a mere mass of more or less foolish talk.Shakespeare is often
reproached with having neglected the dramatic unities of place and time;
but he never overlooked the higher unities of subject and object.These
remarks do not imply that illustration should be discarded or even used
sparingly.The whole realm of nature may be ransacked for these gems,
and if they do illustrate, they are often better than statement or
argument.If the thing to be illustrated belongs to the subject, then
every apt illustration of it also belongs there.It is possible that men of genius may neglect the unity of subject and
object, and still succeed by sheer intellectual force, as they might do
under any other circumstances.But ordinary men cannot with safety
follow the example of Sidney Smith.His hearers complained that he did
not “stick to his text,” and, that he might reform the more easily, they
suggested that he should divide his sermons as other ministers did.He
promised to gratify them, and the next Sabbath, after reading his text,
he began: “We will divide our discourse this morning into three parts: |
bedroom | Where is Mary? | A true discourse is the orderly development of some one thought or idea
with so much clearness and power that it may ever after live as a point
of light in the memory.Other ideas may cluster around the central one,
but it must reign supreme.If the discourse fails in this particular
nothing else can redeem it.Sandra moved to the bathroom.Brilliancy of thought and illustration will
be as completely wasted as a sculptor’s art on a block of clay.A man of profound genius once arose to preach before a great assemblage,
and every breath was hushed.He spoke with power, and many of his
passages were of thrilling eloquence.He poured forth beautiful images
and solemn thoughts with the utmost profusion; yet when at the end of an
hour he took his seat, the prevailing sentiment was one of
disappointment.The address was confused—utterly destitute of any point
of union to which the memory could cling.Many of his statements were
clear and impressive, but he did not make evident what he was talking
about.It was an impressive warning against erecting a building before
laying a foundation.After the subject upon which we are to speak has been determined the
logical order of preparation is, first, gathering material; second,
selecting what is most fitting and arranging the whole into perfect
order; third, fixing this in the mind so that it may be available for
the moment of use.These processes are not always separated in practice,
but they may be best considered in the order indicated.When a subject is chosen and the mind fastened upon it, that subject
becomes a center of attraction and naturally draws all kindred ideas
toward it.Old memories that had become dim from the lapse of time are
slowly hunted out and grouped around the parent thought.Each hour of
contemplation that elapses, even if there is not direct study, adds to
the richness and variety of our available mental stores.The relations
between different and widely separated truths become visible, just as
new stars are seen when we gaze intently toward the evening sky.All
that lies within our knowledge is subjected to a rigid scrutiny and all
that appears to have any connection with the subject is brought into
view.Usually a considerable period of time is needed for this process,
and the longer it is continued the better, if interest in the subject is
not suffered to decline in the meanwhile.But it is somewhat difficult to continue at this work long enough
without weariness.The capacity for great and continuous reaches of
thought constitutes a principal element in the superiority of one mind
over another.Even the mightiest genius cannot, at a single impulse,
exhaust the ocean of truth that opens around every object of man’s
contemplation.It is only by viewing a subject in every aspect that
superficial and one-sided impressions can be guarded against.But the
continuous exertion and toil this implies are nearly always distasteful,
and the majority of men can only accomplish it by a stern resolve.Whether acquired or natural, the ability to completely “think out” a
subject is of prime necessity; the young student at the outset should
learn to finish every investigation he begins and continue the habit
during life.Doing this or not doing it will generally be decisive of
his success or failure from an intellectual point of view.Thought is a
mighty architect, and if you keep him fully employed, he will build up
with slow and measured strokes a gorgeous edifice upon any territory at
all within your mental range.You may weary of his labor and think that
the wall rises so slowly that it will never be completed; but wait.In
due time, if you are patient, all will be finished and will then stand
as no ephemeral structure, to be swept away by the first storm that
blows, but will be established and unshaken on the basis of eternal
truth.M. Bautain compares the accumulation of thought around a subject upon
which the mind thus dwells with the development of organic life by
continuous growth from an almost imperceptible germ.Striking as is the
analogy, there is one point of marked dissimilarity.This growth of
thought is voluntary and may easily be arrested at any stage.The
introduction of a new subject or cessation of effort on the old is
fatal.To prevent this and keep the mind employed until its work is done
requires with most persons a regular and formal system.Daniel journeyed to the garden.Profound
thinkers, who take up a subject and cannot leave it until it is traced
into all its intricate relations and comprehended in every part, and who
have at the same time the power of easily recalling long trains of
thought that have once passed through their mind, have less need of an
artificial method.But their case is not that of the majority of
thinkers or speakers.We will give a method found useful for securing abundant speech
materials, and allow others to adopt it as far as it may prove
advantageous to them.The things we actually know are not always kept equally in view.Sometimes we may see an idea with great clearness and after a time lose
it again, while another, at first invisible, comes into sight.Each idea
should be secured when it occurs.Let each thought that arises on the
subject you intend to discuss be noted.Mary journeyed to the bathroom.A word or a brief sentence
sufficient to recall the conception to your own mind will be enough, and
no labor need be expended on composition or expression.After this first
gathering, let the paper be laid aside and the subject be recommitted to
the mind for further reflection.As other ideas arise let them be noted
down in the same manner and the process be thus continued for days
together.Sometimes new images and conceptions will continue to float
into the mind for weeks.Most persons who have not tried this process of
accumulation will be surprised to find how many thoughts they have on
the simplest topic.If some of this gathered matter remains vague and
shadowy, it will only be necessary to give it more time and more earnest
thought and all obscurity will vanish.At last there comes the consciousness that the mind’s power on that
particular theme is exhausted.If we also feel that we have all the
material needed, one step further only remains in this part of the work;
the comparison of our treasures with what others have accomplished in
the same field.It may be that this comparison will show the
worthlessness of much of our own material, but it is better to submit to
the humiliation involved and be sure that we have the best that can be
furnished by other minds as well as our own.If we prefer, we may speak
when we have gathered only the materials that are already within our own
grasp and thus have a greater consciousness of originality, but such
consciousness is a delusion unless based upon exhaustive research.Sandra moved to the hallway.Nearly all that we thus gather will be the result of previous reading,
and almost the only thing in its favor over the fresh accumulations that
we make by reading directly in the line of our subject, is the
probability that the former knowledge will be better digested.But more frequently, after the young orator has recollected and briefly
noted all that bears upon his subject with which his own mind furnishes
him, there remains a sense of incompleteness, and he is driven to seek a
further supply.Daniel moved to the office.He is now hungry for new information, and on this state
there is an intellectual blessing corresponding to the moral blessing
pronounced upon those who hunger and thirst after righteousness.He
reads the works of those who have treated the same or related topics,
converses with well-informed persons, observes the world closely, still
putting down every new idea that seems to bear upon his theme.Whenever
an idea is found which supplies a felt want, it is received with great
joy.It often happens that instead of finding the very thing sought for
he strikes upon the first link of some chain of thoughts in his own mind
that leads up to what he desires, but has hitherto overlooked.The new
idea is only the more valued when it has thus been traced out.Daniel went to the garden.Now, we have on paper, and often after much toil, a number of confused,
unarranged notes.They are destitute of polish, and no more constitute a
speech than the piles of brick and lumber a builder accumulates
constitute a house.John travelled to the bathroom.Indeed, this comparison is too favorable, for the
builder has carefully calculated just what he needs for his house, and
has ordered those very things.But usually we have in our notes much
that can be of no use, and at whatever sacrifice of feeling it must be
thrown out.It has been said that
the principal difference between the conversation of a wise man and of a
fool is that the one speaks all that is in his mind, while the other
gives utterance only to carefully selected thoughts.Nearly all men have
at times ideas that would please and profit any audience; and if these
are carefully weeded out from the puerilities by which they may be
surrounded, the remainder will be far more valuable than the whole mass.Everything not in harmony with the controlling object or purpose must be
thrown away at whatever sacrifice of feeling.Read carefully your
scattered notes after the fervor of pursuit has subsided and erase every
phrase that is unfitting.If but little remains you can continue the
search as at first, and erase and search again, until you have all that
you need of matter truly relevant to the subject.Yet it is not well to
be over-fastidious.Mary moved to the bedroom.This would prevent speech altogether, or make the
work of preparation so slow and wearisome that when the hour of effort
arrived, all freshness and vigor would be gone.A knight in Spenser’s
“Faery Queen” entered an enchanted castle and as he passed through
eleven rooms in succession he saw written on the walls of each the
words, “Be bold;” but on the twelfth the inscription changed to the
advice of equal wisdom, “Be not too bold.” The same injunctions are
appropriate to the orator.He should be careful in the selection of his
material, but not too careful.Many things which a finical taste might
reject are allowable and very effective.No definite rule, however, can
be given on the subject, as it is a matter of taste rather than of
calculation.The thoughts which have been gathered in the modes pointed out in the
last chapter are now to be arranged in the most effective order.It will
not usually do to begin a speech with those things we happen to first
think of, and proceed to others that are less obvious.This would lead
to an anti-climax fatal to eloquence.A speaker who adopted this mode
once complained that his speeches often seemed to taper to a very fine
point, and that he lost all interest in them before finishing.The
explanation was simple; he uttered first those thoughts which were
familiar to himself and came afterward to those which had been sought
out by more or less painful effort, and which seemed less certain and
valuable.The remedy for this fault is found in careful arrangement.The
most familiar thoughts will naturally be jotted down first, but it does
not follow that they should occupy the same place in the finished plan
of the speech.The true mode of improving your plans is to bestow a great deal of time
and thought upon them, and to make no disposition of any part for which
you cannot give a satisfactory reason.In time the formation of plans will become so natural that
any variation from the most effective arrangement will be felt as keenly
as a discord in music is felt by a master in that art.From such
carefully constructed plans, firm, coherent, and logical discourses will
result.There are certain general characteristics that each plan should possess.It must fully indicate the nature of the proposed discourse and mark out
each of its successive steps with accuracy.Any want of definiteness in
the outline is a fatal defect.You must feel that you can rely
absolutely on it for guidance to the end of your discourse or be always
in danger of embarrassment and confusion.Each clause should express a distinct idea, and but one.This should be
repeated in no other part of the discourse; otherwise, we fall into
wearisome repetitions, the great vice, as it is often claimed, of
extempore speakers.A brief plan is better, other things being equal, than a long one.Often
a single word will recall an idea as perfectly as many sentences, and it
will burden the memory less.We do not expect the draft of a house to
equal the house in size, but only to preserve a proportionate relation
to it throughout.The plan cannot supply the thought, but, indicating
what is in the mind, it shows how to bring it forth in regular
succession.It is a pathway leading to a definite end, and, like all
pathways, its crowning merits are directness and smoothness.Without
these qualities it will perplex and hinder rather than aid.Each word in
the plan should suggest an idea, and be so firmly bound to that idea
that the two cannot become separated in any exigency of speech.Sandra went back to the bathroom.You will
find it sorely perplexing if, in the heat of discourse, some important
note should lose the thought for which it previously stood and become an
empty word.But with clear conceptions condensed into fitting words this
cannot easily happen.A familiar idea can be expressed very briefly,
while a strange or new conception may require more expansion.But all
thoughts advanced by the speaker ought to be familiar to himself as the
result of long meditation and thorough mastery, no matter how strange or
startling they are to his hearers.Most skeletons may be brought within
the compass of a hundred words, and every part be clearly indicated to
the mind that conceived it, though perhaps not to any other.There may be occasions when a speaker is justified in announcing his
divisions and subdivisions, but such cases are exceptions.Hearers do
not care how a discourse is constructed, so it comes to them warm and
pulsating with life.Sandra went to the garden.To give the plan of a speech before the speech
itself is contrary to the order of nature.We are not required first to
look upon a grisly skeleton before we can see a graceful, living body.There is a skeleton inside each body, but during life it is well hidden,
and there is no reason that the speaker should anticipate the work of
the tomb.It is hardly less objectionable to name the parts of the
discourse during the progress of the discussion, for—continuing the
former illustration—bones that project through the skin are very
unlovely.The only case, I presume to think, where it is justifiable to
name the parts of a discourse, either before or during its delivery, is
where the separate parts have an importance of their own, in addition to
their office of contributing to the general object.Much of the
proverbial “dryness” of sermons arises from the preacher telling what he
is _about_ to remark, _firstly_, before he actually makes the remark
thus numbered.Whenever we hear a minister read his text, announce his
theme, state the parts into which he means to divide it, and then warn
us that the first head will be subdivided into a certain number of
parts, each of which is also specified in advance, we prepare our
endurance for a severe test.HOW SHALL THE WRITTEN PLAN BE USED?Now that the plan is completed and fully written out, the next question
arises as to what shall be done with it.It may either be used or
abused.To read it to the audience or exhibit it to them would be an
obvious abuse.Possibly if the speaker possessed a large blackboard, the
latter course might, in special cases, have some advantages.But even
then it is better that the students should, in most instances, exercise
their own ingenuity in gathering out of the body of the speech the
central thoughts which they wish to preserve in their notebooks, than
that the work should be done for them in advance by having the whole
plan of the lecture placed in their sight.The writer has experimented on this subject by repeating the same
lecture to different classes with the outline in some cases exposed to
view, and in the others concealed: the interest has always seemed to be
greater, and the understanding more complete in the latter case.If this
is true where instruction is the only aim, it is still more necessary
where persuasion is the object of the speaker.The exposing in advance
of the means by which he intends to work, will put on their guard the
very persons whose hearts he wishes to capture, and thus lose him all
that advantage of surprise which is often as momentous in oratorical as
in military affairs.There are two other ways of using the plan to be considered.One is to
keep it in the speaker’s sight, so that he may step along from one item
to another, thus keeping a foundation of written words in the midst of
the uncertainty of his extemporaneous efforts, like that afforded by
stepping-stones to a man crossing a running stream.There are some |
hallway | Where is John? | The speaker will feel freer in making those
pauses which are sometimes necessary for the sake of emphasis.He is
better able to collect his scattered ideas in case any untoward
circumstance should break the thread of his discourse.If he is confused
for a moment, he may look down to his paper and recover himself, while
if thoughts and words flow easily he can ignore the plan which lies
before him.But all the reasons for thus using the plan are the most emphatic
condemnation of the practice.They are based
upon the thought that the great object is to secure the speaker from
danger and confusion; in other words, they put him on the defensive,
instead of the aggressive.Were the question to be stated, “How can a
man best preserve the form of extemporaneous speech while shielding
himself from the most dangerous incidents of that mode of address?” it
might plausibly be replied, “By making a very full plan and concealing
it at some point within the reach of his eyes, and using it whenever
that course becomes easiest.”
But we have not sought to point out the mode of speech which will best
protect the speaker from risks incident to his work.For real
effectiveness, compromises are usually hurtful, and this expedient forms
no exception.To have a plan in sight tends powerfully to break up the speech into
fragments and destroy its unity.A series of short addresses on related
points, affords no substitute for a concentrated discourse.The speaker
who publicly uses his sketch, speaks on until he reaches a point at
which he does not know what is to come next, and on the brink of that
gulf, looks down at his notes, and, perhaps after a search, finds what
he wants.Had the thought existed in his mind, it would have blended the
close of the preceding sentences into harmony with it.Direct address to
the people, which they so much value in a speaker, is interfered with in
the same way, for his eye must rest for a portion of the time upon his
notes.He will also be apt to mention the divisions of his speech as
they occur, because the eye is resting upon them at the same time the
tongue is engaged, and it is hard to keep the two members from working
in harmony.If notes must be used the same advice applies that we have already
offered to those who read in full.Be honest about it; do not try to
hide the notes.Any attempt to prove to an audience that we are doing
what we are not doing, has in it an element of deception, and is morally
objectionable.The use of notes is not wrong, but to use them while
pretending not to use them is wrong.Some speakers carry their notes in their pockets for the sake of being
able to take them out in case they find their memory failing, and thus
they guard against the misfortune which once befell the eloquent Abbe
Bautain, who, on ascending the pulpit to preach before the French King
and Court, found that he had forgotten subject, plan, and text.This
method is honest and unobjectionable, for the notes of the plan are
either not used by the speaker at all, or if he takes them from his
pocket, the people will understand the action.The only remaining method, and that which we would urge upon every
extempore speaker, is to commit the plan, as sketched, to memory.It is
put in the best possible shape for the expression of the subject by the
labor which has been previously bestowed upon it, and now such review as
will give the mind a perfect recollection of the whole subject in its
orderly unfolding is just what is needed for final mastery.Previously
much of the work of preparation was given to detached fragments.Now the
subject as a whole is spread out.The time given to a thorough
memorizing of the plan need not be great; it will indeed be but small if
the plan itself is so well arranged that every preceding part suggests
what follows; but it will be the most fruitful of all the time spent in
preparation.It puts you in the best condition for speaking.The object
is then fixed in the heart and will fire it to earnestness and zeal,
while the subject is spread, like a map, before the mental vision.All
the power you possess can then be brought to bear directly upon the
people.Do not fear that in the hurry of discourse you will forget some
part of what is clear when you begin.If you are in good mental and
physical condition, the act of speech will be exhilarating and
stimulating, so that every fine line of preparation will come into
clearness just at the right time, and many a relation unperceived
before, many a forgotten fact, will spring up in complete and vivid
perception.There is a wonderful luxury of feeling in such speech.Sailing with a swift wind, riding a race-horse, even the joy of
victorious battle—indeed, all enjoyments that arise from the highest
powers called forth into successful exercise—are inferior to the thrill
and intoxication of the highest form of successful extemporaneous
speech.To think of using notes then would seem like a contemptible
impertinence!Imagine Xavier or Luther with their notes spread out
before them, looking up the different items from which to address the
multitudes spell-bound before them!John journeyed to the hallway.The Presbyterian Deacon who once
prayed in the presence of his note-using Pastor, “O Lord!teach Thy
servants to speak from the heart to the heart, and not from a little
piece of paper, as the manner of some is,” was not so very far wrong!It is advisable to commit the plan to memory a considerable time before
speaking.It then takes more complete possession of the mind and there
is less liability of forgetting some portion.This is less important
when the subject is perfectly familiar, for then “out of the abundance
of the heart the mouth speaketh,” but those subjects which have been
recently studied for the first time are in a different position; and
some meditation upon that which has just been arranged in its best form
will be very serviceable.Even if the salient points are firmly grasped,
some of the minor parts may require further close consideration.No
study is ever so profitable as that which is bestowed after the plan is
complete, for up to that time there is danger that some of the thoughts
to which our attention is given may be ultimately rejected and others
radically modified.But when the plan is finished each idea has settled
into its place.If obscurity rests anywhere, it may be detected at once,
and the strength of the mind be brought to bear for its banishment.Impressions derived from meditation are then easily retained until the
hour of speech, because associated with their proper place in the
prepared outline.Such deep meditation on each division of the discourse
can scarcely fail to make it original in the true sense of the term, and
weave all its parts together with strong and massive thoughts.After the plan has been memorized we can meditate upon it not only at
the desk, but anywhere.As we walk about or lie in bed, or at any other
time find our minds free from distractions, we can ponder the ideas that
cluster around our subject until they grow perfectly familiar.Even when
we are reading or thinking on other topics, brilliant thoughts will not
unfrequently spring up, or those we possessed before take stronger and
more definite outlines.All such gains can be held in memory without the
use of the pen, because the plan furnishes a suitable place for them.The course here described we would urge strongly upon the consideration
of the young speaker.If carefully followed, its results will be
invaluable.Arrange the plan from which you are to speak as clearly as
may be in the form of a brief sketch; turn it over and over again;
ponder each idea and the manner of bringing it out; study the connection
between all the parts until the whole from beginning to end appears
perfectly plain and simple.So frequently has this mode of preparation
been tested that its effectiveness is no longer a matter of experiment.It is advantageous to grasp the whole subject, as early as possible, in
a single idea—in the same manner in which the future tree is compressed
within the germ from which it is to spring.Then this one thought will
suggest the entire discourse to the speaker, and at its conclusion will
be left clear and positive in the hearer’s mind.For some acute auditors
this may be less necessary.They are able to outrun a loose speaker,
arrange his scattered fragments, supply his omissions, and arrive at the
idea which has not yet formed itself clearly in his own mind.Such
persons often honestly commend orators who are incomprehensible to the
majority of their hearers.But the opinions of such auditors are an
unsafe guide, for they form a very small minority of any assembly.There is one further step which may sometimes precede the moment of
speech with profit—the placing upon paper of a brief but connected
sketch or statement of the whole discourse.If this is made in the
ordinary writing there is danger that its slowness will make it more of
a word-study than what it is intended to be—a test of ideas.A thorough
mastery of shorthand, or the service of some one who has such mastery,
will supply this defect.Far from fleeing, he went up to her and opening his arms he embraced her
so that his hands, holding the knife, the bread and the dish, crossed
behind her skeleton back."It is poor Pitou," he said in accomplishing this act of nepotism.She feared that he was trying to stifle her because she had caught him
red-handed in plundering her store.Literally, she did not breathe
freely until she was released from this perillous clasp.She was horrified that he did not express any emotion over his prize and
at his sitting in the best chair: previously he would have perched
himself on the edge of a stool or the broken chair.Thus easily lodged
he set to demolishing the baked fowl.In a few minutes the pattern of
the dish began to appear clean at the bottom as the rocks and sand on
the seashore when the tide goes out.Daniel journeyed to the hallway.In her frightful perplexity she endeavored to scream but the ogre smiled
so bewitchingly that the scream died away on her prim lips.She smiled, without any effect on him, and then turned to weeping.This
annoyed the devourer a little but did not hinder his eating."How good you are to weep with joy at my return," he said."I thank you,
my kind aunt."Evidently the Revolution had transmogrified this lad.Having tucked away three fourths of the bird he left a little of the
Indian grain at the end of the dish, saying:
"You are fond of rice, my dear auntie: and, besides, it is good for your
poor teeth."At this attention, taken for a bitter jest, Angelique nearly suffocated.She sprang upon Pitou and snatched the lightened platter from his hand,
with an oath which would not have been out of place in the mouth of an
old soldier."Bewailing the rooster, aunt?""The rogue--I believe he is chaffing me," cried the old prude."Aunt," returned the other, rising majestically, "my intention was to
pay you.I will come and board with you, if you please,
only I reserve the right to make up the bill of fare.As for this snack,
suppose we put the lot at six cents, four of the fowl and two of bread."when the meat is worth eight alone and the bread four," cried the
woman."But you did not buy the bird--I know the old acquaintance by his nine
years comb.I stole him for you from under his mother and by the same
token, you flogged me because I did not steal enough corn to feed him.But I begged the grain from Miss Catherine Billet; as I procured the
bird and the food, I had a lien on him, as the lawyers say.I have only
been eating my own property.""Out of this house," she gasped, almost losing her voice while she tried
to pulverize him with her gaze.Pitou remarked with satisfaction that he could not have swallowed one
grain more of rice."Aunt, you are a bad relative," he said loftily."I wanted you to show
yourself as of old, spiteful and avaricious.But I am not going to have
it said that I eat my way without paying."He stood on the threshold and called out with a voice which was not only
heard by the starers without but by anybody within five hundred paces:
"I call these honest folk for witnesses, that I have come from Paris
afoot, after having taken the Bastile.I was hungered and tired, and I
have sat down under my only relation's roof, and eaten, but my keep is
thrown up at me, and I am driven away pitilessly!"He infused so much pathos in this exordium that the hearers began to
murmur against the old maid."I want you to bear witness that she is turning from her door a poor
wayfarer who has tramped nineteen leagues afoot; an honest lad, honored
with the trust of Farmer Billet and Dr.Gilbert; who has brought Master
Sebastian Gilbert here to Father Fortier's; a conqueror of the Bastile,
a friend of Mayor Bailly and General Lafayette.""And I am not a beggar," he pursued, "for when I am accused of having a
bite of bread, I am ready to meet the score, as proof of which I plank
down this silver bit--in payment of what I have eaten at my own folk's."He drew a silver crown from his pocket with a flourish, and tossed it on
the table under the eyes of all, whence it bounced into the dish and
buried itself in the rice.This last act finished the mercenary aunt;
she hung her head under the universal reprobation displayed in a
prolonged groan.Twenty arms were opened towards Pitou, who went forth,
shaking the dust off his brogans, and disappeared, escorted by a mob
eager to offer hospitality to a captor of the Bastile, and
boon-companion of General Lafayette.THE ABDICATION IN A FARMHOUSE.After having appeased the duties of obedience, Pitou wished to satisfy
the cravings of his heart.It is sweet to obey when the order chimes in
with one's secret sympathies.Ange Pitou was in love with Catherine, daughter of farmer Billet who had
succored him when he fled from his aunt's and with whom he had taken the
trip to Paris which returned him a full-fledged hero to his
fellow-villagers.When he perceived the long ridge of the farmhouse roofs, measured the
aged elms which twisted to stand the higher over the smoking chimneys,
when he heard the distant lowing of the cattle, the barking of the
watchdogs, and the rumbling of the farm carts, he shook his casque on
his head to tighten its hold, hung the calvary sabre more firmly by his
side, and tried to give himself the bold swagger of a lover and a
soldier.As nobody recognized him at the first it was a proof that he
had fairly succeeded.The farmhands responded to his hail by taking off their caps or pulling
their forelocks.Through the dininghall window pane Mother Billet saw the military
visitor.She was a comely, kind old soul who fed her employes like
fighting cocks.She was, like other housewives, on the alert, as there
was talk of armed robbers being about the country.They cut the woods
down and reaped the green corn.What did this warrior's appearance
signify?She was perplexed by the clodhopper shoes beneath a helmet so shining
and her supposition fluctuated between suspicion and hope.She took a couple of steps towards the new-comer as he strode into the
kitchen, and he took off his headpiece not to be outdone in politeness."Whoever would have guessed that you would
enlist."sneered Pitou, smiling loftily.As he looked round him, seeking someone, Mistress Billet smiled,
divining who he was after."To present her with my duty," said Pitou.Billet; "but sit ye down and talk to
me."In all the doorways and windows the servants and laboring men flocked to
see their old fellow.He had a kindly glance for them all, a caress in
his smile for the most part."He is all right, but Paris is all wrong."Pitou shook his head and clacked his tongue in a way humiliating to the
head of the monarchy.Pitou was aching for Catherine's coming."It is a trophy of war," rejoined the young peasant."A trophy is a
tangible testimonial that you have vanquished an enemy.""Have you vanquished an enemy, Pitou?""Ah, good Mother
Billet, you do not know that Farmer Billet and yours |
bedroom | Where is Sandra? | Pitou felt the breath on his hair
and the helmet mane, while their hands grasped the back of his chair."Do tell us what our master has done," pleaded Mrs.Billet, proud and
tremulous at the same time.Pitou was hurt that Catherine did not leave her linen to come and hear
such a messenger as he was.He shook his head for he was growing
discontented."It will take a time," he observed.Instantly all the men and maids bustled about so that Pitou found under
his hand goblets, mugs, bread, meat, cheese, without realizing the
extent of his hint.He had a hot liver, as the rustics say: that is, he
digested quickly.But he had not shaken down the Angelican fowl in rice;
he tried to eat again but had to give up at the second mouthful."If I begin now," he said, "I should have to do it all over again when
Miss Catherine comes."While they were all hunting after the young girl, Pitou happened to look
up and saw the girl in question leaning out of a window on the upper
landing."Oh," he sighed, "she is looking towards the manor of the Charnys.She
is in love with Master Isidor Charny, that is what it is."He sighed again, much more lamentably than before.Taking the farmer's wife by the hand as the searchers returned fruitless
in their search, he took her up a couple of the stairs and showed her
the girl, mooning on the window sill among the morning glories and
vines.she called: "Come, Catherine, here is Ange Pitou, with news
from town."So coldly that Pitou's heart failed him as he anxiously waited for her
reply.She came down the stairs with the phlegm of the Flemish girls in the old
Dutch paintings."Yes, it is he," she said, when on the floor."He's wearing a soldier's helmet," said a servant-woman in her young
mistress's ear.Pitou overheard and watched for the effect.But her somewhat pallid
though evercharming face showed no admiration for the brazen cap.This time indignation got the upperhand in the peasant."I am wearing helmet and sabre," he retorted proudly, "because I have
been fighting and have killed Swiss and dragoons: and if you doubt me,
Miss Catherine, you can ask your father, and that is all."She was so absent-minded that she appeared to catch the latter part of
the speech alone.asked she; "and why does he not return home with
you?"I thought that all was settled," the girl objected."Quite true, but all is unsettled again.""Have not the King and the people agreed and is not the recall of
Minister Necker arranged?""Necker is not of much consequence now," said Pitou jeeringly."It falls so short of that, that the people are doing justice on their
own account and killing their enemies.""The aristocrats, of course," answered the other."Why, naturally, they that have grand houses, and big properties, and
starve the nation--those that have everything while we have nothing;
that travel on fine horses or in bright coaches while we jog on foot.""Heavens," exclaimed the girl, so white as to be corpselike."I can name some aristo's of our acquaintance," continued he, noticing
the emotion."Lord Berthier Sauvigny, for instance, who gave you those
gold earrings you wore on the day you danced with Master Isidore.John journeyed to the hallway.Well,
I have seen men eat the heart of him!"A terrible cry burst from all breasts and Catherine fell back in the
chair she had taken.Daniel journeyed to the hallway.faltered Mother Billet, quivering with horror.By this time they have killed or burnt all
the aristocrats of Paris and Versailles.you are not of the higher classes, Mother Billet.""Pitou, I did not think you were so bloodthirsty when you started for
Paris," said Catherine with sombre energy."I do not know as I am so, now; but----"
"But then do not boast of the crimes which the Parisians commit, since
you are not a Parisian and did not do them.""I had so little hand in them that Farmer Billet and me were nigh
slaughtered in taking the part of Lord Berthier--though he had famished
the people."that is just like him," said Catherine,
excitedly.Pitou related that the mob had seized Foulon and Berthier for being the
active agents for higher personages in the great Grain Ring which held
the corn from the poor, and torn them to pieces, though Billet and he
had tried to defend them."The farmer was sickened and wanted to come home, but Dr."Does he want my man to get killed there?""It is all fixed between master and the doctor.He is going to stay a little longer in town to finish up the revolution.Not alone, you understand, but with Mayor Bailly and General Lafayette."Daniel went to the office."Oh, I am not so much alarmed about him as long as in the gentlemen's
company," said the good old soul with admiration."Then, what have you come back for?""To bring Sebastian Gilbert to Father Fortier's school, and you, Farmer
Billet's instructions."Pitou spoke like a herald, with so much dignity that the farmer's wife
dismissed all the gapers.Billet," began the messenger, "the master wants you to be worried
as little as possible, so he thinks that while he is away, the
management of the farm should be in other hands, younger and livelier.""Yes, and he has selected Miss Catherine.""My daughter to rule in my house," cried the woman, with distrust and
inexpressible jealousy."Under your orders," the girl hastened to say, while reddening."No, no," persisted Pitou, who went on well since he was in full swing:
"I bear the commission entire: Master Billet delegates and authorizes
Miss Catherine to see to all the work and govern the house and household
in his stead."As Billet was infallible in his wife's eyes, all her resistance ceased
instantly."Billet is right," she declared after a glance at her daughter; "she is
young but she has a good head, and she can even be headstrong.She can
get along outdoors better than me; she knows how to make folks obey.But
to be running about over field and hills will make a tomboy of her----"
"Fear nothing for her," interposed Pitou with a consequential air; "I am
here and I will go around with her."This gracious offer, by which Ange probably intended to make an effect,
drew such a strange glance from Catherine that he was dumbfounded.Pitou was not experienced in feminine ways but he guessed by her blush
that she was not giving complete acquiescence, for he said with an
agreeable smile which showed his strong teeth between the large lips:
"Even the Queen has a Lifeguard.Besides, I may be useful in the woods.""Is this also in my husband's instructions?"queried Madam Billet who
showed some tendency towards cutting sayings."Nay," said Catherine, "that would be an idle errand and father would
not have set it for Master Pitou while he would not have accepted it."Pitou rolled his frightened eyes from one to the other: all his castle
in the air came tumbling down.A true woman, the younger one understood
his painful disappointment."Did you see the girls in Paris with the young men tagging at their
gown-tails?""But you are not a girl, after you become mistress of the house,"
remonstrated Pitou."Enough chatter," interrupted Mother Billet; "the mistress of the house
has too much work to do.Come, Catherine, and let me turn over things to
you, as your father bids us."As soon as the house was placed under the new ruler the servants and
workmen were presented to her as the one from whom in the future orders
would flow.Each departed with the alacrity shown by the new officials
at the beginning of a fresh term.inquired Pitou, left alone and going up to the girl."Then you worked for my father and mother.I have nothing in your line,
for you are a scholar and a fine Paris gentleman now.""But look at the muscle in my arms," protested the poor fellow in
desperation."Why do you force me to die of hunger under the pretence
that I am a learned man?Are you ignorant that Epictetus the philosopher
was a tavern waiter to earn his bread, and that AEsop the fabulist had to
work for a living?and yet they were more learned than ever I shall be.But Master Billet sent me down here to help on the farm.""Be it so; but my father can force you to do things that I should shrink
from imposing upon you.""Don't shrink, and impose on me.Besides you have books to keep and accounts to make out; and my strong
point is figuring and ciphering.""I do not think it enough for a man," rejoined Catherine."Well, live here a bit," she said; "I will think it over and we shall
see what turns up.""You want to think it over, about my staying.What have I done to you,
Miss Catherine?you do not seem to be the same as before."Sandra moved to the bedroom.She had no good reasons
to fear Pitou and yet his persistency worried her."Enough of this," she said, "I am going over to Fertemilon.""I will saddle a horse and go with you."She spoke so imperiously that the peasant remained riveted to the spot,
hanging his head."She thinks I am changed, but," said he, "it is she who is another sort
altogether."When he was roused by hearing the horse's hoofs going away, he looked
out and saw Catherine riding by a side path towards the highway.It occurred to him that though she had forbid him to accompany her, she
had not said he must not follow her.He dashed out and took a short cut through the woods, where he was at
home, till he reached the main road.But though he waited a half-hour,
he saw nobody.He thought she might have forgotten something at the farm and started
back for it; and he returned by the highway.But on looking up a lane he
spied her white cap at a distance.Instead of going to Fertemilon, as she distinctly stated, she was
proceeding to Boursonne.He darted on in the same direction but by a parallel line.It was no longer to follow her but to spy her.He was answered by seeing her thrash her horse into the trot in order to
rejoin a horseman who rode to meet her with as much eagerness as she
showed on her part.On coming nearer, as the pair halted at meeting, Pitou recognized by his
elegant form and stylish dress the neighboring lord, Isidore Charny.He
was brother of the Count of Charny, lieutenant of the Royal Lifeguards,
and accredited as favorite of the Queen.Pitou knew him well and lately from having seen him at the village
dances where Catherine chose him for partner.Dropping to the ground in the brush and creeping up like a viper, he
heard the couple."You are late to-day, Master Isidore," began Catherine.thought the eavesdropper; "it appears that he has been
punctual on other meetings.""It is not my fault, my darling Kate," replied the young noble."A
letter from my brother delayed me, to which I had to reply by the
bearer.But fear nothing, I shall be more exact another time."Catherine smiled and Isidore pressed her hand so tenderly that Pitou
felt upon thorns."So have I. Did you not say that
when something alike happens to two persons, it is called sympathy?"asked the young noble with a free and easy air
which changed the red of the listener's cheek to crimson."You know well enough," was her reply: "Pitou is the farmboy that my
father took on out of charity: the one who played propriety for me when
I went to the dance.""Lord, yes--the chap with knees that look like knots tied in a rope."Pitou felt lowered; he looked at his knees,
so useful lately while he was keeping pace with a horse, and he sighed."Come, come, do not tear my poor Pitou to pieces," said Catherine; "Let
me tell you that he wanted to come with me just now--to Fertemilon,
where I pretended I was going.""Why did you not accept the squire--he would have amused you.""You are right, my pet," said Isidore, fixing his eyes, brilliant with
love, on the pretty girl.She hid her blushing face in his arms closing round it.Pitou closed his eyes not to see, but he did not close his ears, and the
sound of a kiss reached them.When he came to his senses the loving couple were slowly riding away.The last words he caught were:
"You are right, Master Isidore; let us ride about for an hour which I
will gain by making my nag go faster--he is a good beast who will tell
no tales," she added, merrily.Darkness fell on Pitou's spirit and
he said:
"No more of the farm for me, where I am trodden on and made fun of.I am
not going to eat the bread of a woman who is in love with another man,
handsomer, richer and more graceful than me, I allow.No, my place is
not in the town but in my village of Haramont, where I may find those
who will think well of me whether my knees are like knots in a rope or
not."He marched towards his native place, where his reputation and that of
his sword and helmet had preceded him, and where glory awaited him, if
not happiness.But we know that perfect bliss is not a human attribute.As everybody in his village would be abed by ten o'clock, Pitou was glad
to find accommodation at the inn, where he slept till seven in the
morning.On leaving the Dolphin Tavern, he noticed that his sword and casque won
universal attention.A crowd was round him in a few steps.Few prophets have this good fortune in their own country.But few
prophets have mean and acrimonious aunts who bake fowls in rice for them
to eat up the whole at a sitting.Besides, the brazen helmet and the
heavy dragoon's sabre recommended Pitou to his fellow-villager's
attention.Hence, some of the Villers Cotterets folk, who had escorted him about
their town, were constrained to accompany him to his village of
Haramont.This caused the inhabitants of the latter to appreciate their
fellow-villager at his true worth.The fact is, the ground was prepared for the seed.He had flitted
through their midst before so rapidly that it was a wonder he left any
trace of memory: but they were impressed and they were glad of his
second appearance.They overwhelmed him with tokens of consideration,
begged him to lay aside his armor, and pitch his tent under the four
lime trees shading the village green.Pitou yielded all the more readily as it was his intention to take up
residence here and he accepted the offer of a room which a bellicose
villager let him have furnished.Settling the terms, the rent _per
annum_ being but six livres, the price of two fowls baked in rice, Ange
took possession, treated those who had accompanied him to mugs of cider
all round, and made a speech on the doorsill.His speech was a great event, with all Haramont encircling the doorstep.Pitou had studied a little; he had heard Paris speechifying
inexhaustibly; there was a space between him and General Lafayette as
there is between Paris and Haramont, mentally speaking.He began by saying that he came back to the hamlet as into the bosom of
his only family.This was a touching allusion to his orphanage for the
women to hear.Then he related that he and Farmer Billet had gone to Paris on hearing
that Dr.Gilbert had been arrested and because a casket Gilbert had
entrusted to his farmer had been stolen from him by the myrmidons of the
King under false pretences.Billet and he had rescued the doctor from
the Bastile by attacking it, with a few Parisians at their back.At the
end of his story his helmet was as grand as the cupola of an
observatory.He ascribed the outbreak to the privileges of the nobility and clergy
and called on his brothers to unite against the common enemy. |
bedroom | Where is Sandra? | At this point he drew his sabre and brandished it.This gave him the cue to call the Haramontese to arms after the example
of revolted Paris.but the only arms in the place were
those old Spanish muskets kept at Father Fortier's.A bold youth, who had not, like Pitou, been educated under his knout,
proposed going thither to demand them.Ange wavered, but had to yield to
the impulse of the mob."Heavens," he muttered: "if they thus lead me before I am their leader,
what will it be when I am at their head?"He was compelled to promise to summon his old master to deliver the
firearms.Next day, therefore, he armed himself and departed for Father
Fortier's academy.He knocked at the garden door loud enough to be heard there, and yet
modestly enough not to be heard in the house.He did it to tranquilize his conscience, and was surprised to see the
door open; but it was Sebastian who stood on the sill.He was musing in the grounds, with an open book in his hand.He uttered a cry of gladness on seeing Pitou, for whom he had a line in
his father's letter to impart."Billet wishes you to remind him to Pitou and tell him not to upset the
men, and things on the farm."a lot I have to do with the farm," muttered the young man: "the
advice had better be sent on to Master Isidore."But all he said aloud was: "Where is the father?"Priest Fortier was coming down into
the garden.Pitou composed his face for the encounter with his former
master.Fortier had been almoner of the old hunting-box in the woods and as such
was keeper of the lumber-room.Among the effects of the hunting
establishment of the Duke of Orleans were old weapons and particularly
some fifty musketoons, brought home from the Ouessant battle by Prince
Joseph Philip, which he had given to the township.Not knowing what to
do with them, the section selectmen left them under charge of the
schoolmaster.The old gentleman was clad in clerical black, with his cat-o'-nine tails
thrust into his girdle like a sword.On seeing Pitou, who saluted him,
he folded up the newspaper he was reading and tucked it into his band on
the opposite side to the scourge."At your service as far as he is capable," said the other."But the trouble is that you are not capable, you Revolutionist."This was a declaration of war, for it was clear that Pitou had put the
abbe out of temper.do you think I have turned
the state over all by myself?""You are hand and glove with those who did it.""Father, every man is free in his mind," returned Pitou."I do not say
it in Latin for I have improved in that tongue since I quitted your
school.Those whom I frequent and at whom you sneer, talk it like their
own and they would think the way you taught it to be faulty."repeated the pedagogue, visibly wounded by the
ex-pupil's manner."How comes it that you never spoke up in this style
when you were under my--whip--that is, roof?"John journeyed to the hallway."Because you brutalized me then," responded Pitou: "your despotism
trampled on my wits, and liberty could not lay hold of my speech.You
treated me like a fool, whereas all men are equal.""I will never suffer anybody to utter such rank blasphemy before me,"
cried the irritated schoolmaster."You the equal of one whom nature and
heaven have taken sixty years to form?"Ask General Lafayette, who has proclaimed the Rights of Man.""What, do you quote as an authority that traitor, that firebrand of all
discord, that bad subject of the King?""It is you who blaspheme," retaliated the peasant: "you must have been
buried for the last three months.This bad subject is the very one who
most serves the King.This torch of discord is the pledge of public
peace."Oh," thundered the priest, "that ever I should believe that the royal
authority should sink so low that a goodfornothing of this sort invokes
Lafayette as once they called on Aristides.""Lucky for you the people do not hear you," said Pitou."Oho, you reveal yourself now in your true colors," said the priest
triumphantly: "you bully me.The people, those who cut the throats of
the royal bodyguard; who trample on the fallen, the people of your
Baillys, Lafayettes and Pitous.Why do you not denounce me to the people
of Villers Cotterets?Why do you not tuck up your sleeves to drag me out
to hang me up to the lamppost?where is your rope--you can be the
hangman."Daniel journeyed to the hallway."You are saying odious things--you insult me," said Pitou."Have a care
that I do not show you up to the National Assembly!"as a failure as a scholar, as a
Latinist full of barbarisms, and as a beggar who comes preaching
subversive doctrines in order to prey upon your clients.""I do not prey upon anybody--it is not by _preying_ I live but by work:
and as for lowering me in the eyes of my fellow-citizens, know that I
have been elected by them commander of the National Guards of Haramont."Such gangs as you would be chief of must be robbers,
footpads, bandits, and highwaymen.""On the contrary, they are organized to defend the home and the fields
as well as the life and liberties of all good citizens.That is why we
have [illegible]oc me to--for the arms.""You come to pillage
my arsenal.The armor of the paladins on your ignoble backs.You are mad
to want to arm the ragamuffins of Pitou with the swords of the Spaniards
and the pikes of the Swiss."The priest laughed with such disdainful menace that Pitou shuddered in
every vein."No, father, we do not want the old curiosities, but the thirty marines'
guns which you have."said the abbe, taking a step towards the envoy."And you shall have the glory of contributing to deliver the country of
the oppressors," said Pitou, who took a backward step."Furnish weapons against myself and friends," said the other, "give you
guns to be fired against myself?""But your refusal will have a bad effect," pleaded Pitou, retreating,
"you will be accused of national treason, and of being no citizen.Do
not expose yourself to this, good Father Fortier!""Mark me a martyr, eh, Nero?roared the
priest, with flaring eye and much more resembling the executioner than
the victim."No, father, I come as a peaceful envoy to----"
"Pillage my house for arms as your friends gutted the Soldiers' Home at
Paris.""We received plenty of praise for that up there," said Ange.Daniel went to the office."And you would get plenty of strokes of the whip down here.""Look out," said Pitou, who had backed to the door, and who recognized
the scourge as an old acquaintance, "you must not violate the rights of
man!""You shall see about that, rascal.""I am protected by my sacred character as an ambassador----"
"Are you?"And just as Pitou had to turn after getting the street door open, for he
had backed through the hall, the infuriated schoolmaster let him have a
terrible lash where his backplate would have to be unusually long to
defend him.Whatever the courage of the conqueror of the Bastile, he
could not help emitting a shriek of pain as he bounded out among the
crowd expecting him.At the yell, neighbors ran forth from their dwellings and to the
profound general astonishment all beheld the young man flying with all
swiftness under his helmet and with his sabre, while Father Fortier
stood on the doorstep, brandishing his whip like the Exterminating Angel
waves his sword.PITOU BECOMES A TACTICIAN.How could he go back to his friends without
the arms?How, after having had so much confidence shown in him, tell
them that their leader was a braggart who, in spite of his sword and
helmet, had let a priest whack him in the rear?To vaunt of carrying all before him with Father Fortier and fail so
shamefully--what a fault!To obtain the muskets, force or cunning was the means.He might steal
into the school and steal out the arms.But the word "steal," sounded
badly in the rustic's ears.There were still left some people in France
who would call this the high-handed outrage of brigands.So he recoiled before force and treachery.His vanity was committed to the task, and prompted a fresh direction for
his searches.General Lafayette was Commander-in-chief of the National Guards of
France; Haramont was in France and had a National Guards company.Consequently, General Lafayette commanded the latter force.He could not
tolerate that his soldiers at Haramont should go unarmed when all his
others were armed.To appeal to Lafayette, he could apply to Billet who
would address Gilbert, and he the general.Pitou wrote to Billet but as he could not read, it must be Gilbert who
would have the letter placed before him.This settled, he waited for nightfall, returned to his lodgings
mysteriously and let his friends there see that he was writing at night.This was the large square note which they also saw him post next day:
"DEAR AND HONORED FRIEND BILLET:
"The Revolutionary cause gains daily hereabouts and while the
aristocrats lose, the patriots advance.The Village of Haramont
enrolls itself in the active service of the National Guard; but it
has no arms.The means to procure them lies in those who harbor
arms in quantity should be made to surrender the overplus, so that
the country would be saved expense.If it pleases General Lafayette
to authorize that such illegal magazines of arms should be placed
at the call of the townships, proportionately to the number of men
to be armed, I undertake for my part to supply the Haramont Arsenal
with at least thirty guns.This is the only means to oppose a dam
to the contra-Revolutionary movements of the aristocrats and
enemies of the Nation."Your fellow-Citizen and most humble Servant,
"ANGE PITOU."Sandra moved to the bedroom.When this was written the author perceived that he had omitted to speak
to his correspondent of his wife and daughter.He treated him too much
in the Brutus style; on the other hand, to give Billet particulars
about Catherine's love affair was to rend the father's heart; it was
also to re-open Pitou's bleeding wounds.He stifled a sigh and appended
this P. S."Mistress Billet and Miss Catherine and all the household are well, and
beg to be remembered to Master Billet."The reply to this was not slow in coming.Two days subsequently, a
mounted express messenger dashed into Haramont and asked for Captain
Ange Pitou.He wore the uniform of a
staff-officer of the Parisian National Guards.Judge of the effect he produced and the trouble and throbs of Pitou!He
went up to the officer who smiled, and pale and trembling he took the
paper he bore for him.It was a response from Billet, by the hand of
Gilbert.Billet advised Pitou to move moderately in his patriotism.He enclosed General Lafayette's order, countersigned by the War
Minister, to arm the Haramont National Guards.The bearer was an officer charged to see to the arming of cities on the
road.Thus ran the Order:
"All who possess more than one gun or sword are hereby bound to place
the excess at the disposal of the chief officials in their cantons.The
Present Measure is to be executed throughout the entire country."Red with joy, Pitou thanked the officer, who smiled again, and started
off for the next post for changing horses.Thus was our friend at the high tide of honor: he had received a
communication from General Lafayette, and the War Minister.This message served his schemes and plans most timely.To see the animated faces of his fellows, their brightened eyes and
eager manner; the profound respect all at once entertained for Ange
Pitou, the most credulous observer must have owned that he had become an
important character.One after another the electors begged to touch the seal of the War
Department.When the crowd had tapered down to the chosen friends, Pitou said:
"Citizens, my plans have succeeded as I anticipated.I wrote to the
Commander-in-chief your desire to be constituted National Guards, and
your choice of me as leader.The envelope was superscribed: "CAPTAIN ANGE PITOU, Commander of the
National Guards."Therefore," continued the martial peasant, "I am known and accepted as
commander by the Chief of the Army.You are recognized and approved as
Soldiers of the Nation by General Lafayette and the Minister of War."A long cheer shook the walls of the little house which sheltered Pitou.John went to the bedroom."I know where to get the arms," he went on."Select two of your number
to accompany me.Let them be lusty lads, for we may have a difficulty."The embryo regiment chose one Claude Tellier sergeant and one Desire
Maniquet lieutenant.The instructor's aim must be to instil into his mind the firm
conviction that it is as impossible to resist the pressure of the bit
on either side of the mouth as it is to advance against it.Extreme
kindness and gentleness must be exercised in this initial training,
each compliance with the teacher's hand and voice being at once met
with some encouragement or reward, in shape of a word or two of
soothing approval, gentling his head, and a few oats or pieces of
carrot or apple--in the tropics sugar-cane or carrot--the bit being
removed from the mouth for the purpose.Horses of all sorts are very
quick in their likes and dislikes.Daniel went back to the kitchen.From the start never let the colt
take a dead pull at the reins, let all the pressures be exerted in a
light feeling manner with the fingers not the hands.On becoming fairly proficient at his indoor lesson, we will now, with
his Australian bush pattern head-collar-bridle on, a pair of long reins
run from the snaffle through the side rings of the surcingle back into
the trainer's hands, who will walk behind him, and led by a leading
rein attached to the near side of the head-collar but wholly
unconnected with the bit, take him into a quiet yard or paddock.He has
now to be taught to stop, back, and turn to his bit.The control
exercised by the assistant holding the leading rein just suffices to
prevent the colt rushing about, or under sudden alarm running back; he
will also, though giving him a perfectly free rein, be sufficiently
close to his head to aid him in obeying the mandates of the trainer.After walking about as quietly as possible for some time, teaching him
how to incline and turn, the feel on the mouth with a moderately tight
rein being carefully preserved, he will be on the word "Whoa!"brought
to a stand still, and made to stand still and motionless as a
well-trained charger on parade.In the lessons on turning, he may if needful be touched with the whip,
_only if needful_, and then the lash should fall as lightly as the
fly from some expert fisherman's rod, the touch of the silk or
whip-cord coming simultaneously with the touch on the bars of the
mouth.For instance, he is required to turn to the right and hangs a
bit on the rein without answering the helm, then a slight touch on the
near shoulder will send him up to his bit, give him an inclination to
turn smartly in the direction wished for, and the movement may be
hastened by the point of the whip being pressed against the off
buttock, or upper thigh on the outside.The pull must not be a jerk but
a decided lively pull.Always let him go forward as much as space will
permit of before making another turn; he must not be confused and so
provoked to be stubborn or fight.Let all the turns be to one hand for
the first few minutes then turn him in the reverse direction.Should he
get his head down and endeavour to establish a steady dead pull, |
kitchen | Where is John? | To make a
horse stand after being halted, the Arabs throw the bridle over his
head and let the rein drag on the ground.When the colt is being broken
the bridle is thus left hanging down between his fore legs, and a slave
gives it a sharp jerk whenever a step in advance is taken.By this
means the horse is duped into the delusion that the pain inflicted on
his mouth or nose is caused by his moving while the rein is in this
pendant position.What is taught in the desert may be taught in the
paddock.John journeyed to the hallway.The slightest attempt to move forward without the "click" must
at once be stopped.The "backing" lesson is, as a rule, a very simple one, though there are
some horses which decline to adopt this retrograde motion.To rein
back, the trainer, standing immediately behind the colt, either exerts
an even and smart pressure on both reins, drawing them, if need be,
through the mouth, when the horse will first bend himself getting his
head in handsomely and then begin to step back.At first he will be
perhaps, a little awkward, but will soon learn to use his hocks and to
adopt this strange gait.If there be any difficulty about getting his
head in--it must not be up and out with the bit in the angles of the
mouth--the assistant should place the flat of his hand on the animal's
face pressing its heel firmly on the cartilage of the nose.The
backward movement must cease on the word "Whoa!"A horse must not be taught to run back, some acquire the bad
habit too readily to a dangerous extent.I may here say that when a
horse is given to this vice the best plan is to turn him at once and
sharply in the direction he wants to go.In tuition what we want to
arrive at is a sort of military "two paces step back, march!"In these introductory lessons the main use of the assistant with his
loose yet ready leading rein is to prevent the colt from turning
suddenly round and facing the trainer, a _contretemps_ with a
Galvayne's tackle next to impossible.Reins should not, however, be
tried at all till the lessons in the loose box and in the stall are so
well learnt that there is little or no fear of sudden fright,
ebullitions of temper, or other causes of disarrangement and
entanglement of the long driving reins.When the habit of yielding to
the indication of the rein has once been acquired and well established,
it becomes a sort of second nature, which under no circumstances, save
those of panic or confirmed bolting, is ever forgotten.A few lessons
carefully, firmly, patiently, and completely given will cause the colt
to answer the almost imperceptible touch of the rein or the distinct
word of command.Once perfected in answering the various signals at the
walk, he is then put through precisely the same movements at a trot,
and to be an effective teacher, the breaker must not only be a good
runner, but in good wind, he must be active enough to show such a horse
as "Beau Lyons" at the Hackney Show at Islington.A pony such as is
"Norfolk Model," one a hand higher and of a very different stamp, it is
true, from what I commend for children, would make a crack "sprinter"
put forth his best pace.During the time the pony is acquiring the A B C or rudiments of his
education, he must be frequently and carefully handled.Every effort
should be made to gain his confidence.Daniel journeyed to the hallway.Like all beasts of the field the
speediest and surest way to his affection is down his throat; he is
imbued with a large share of "cupboard love," so the trainer should
always have some tit-bit in his pocket wherewith to reward good
behaviour and progress made; moreover, the pupil should be aware of the
existence and whereabouts of this store-room.Rub the head well over with the hands, always working with,
and never against the run of the hair.Pull his ears gently (never pull
the long hair out from the inside) rub the roots, the eyes and muzzle,
work back from the ears down the neck and fore legs, between the fore
legs, at the back of the elbows, and along the back, talking to him all
the while.Before going to the flanks and hind quarters make him lift
both fore feet.If there be any disinclination to obey, a strap should
be wound round the fetlock joint, the trainer then taking a firm hold
of the ends in his right hand says in a loud voice "Hold up!"at the
same time with the palm of the left hand, throwing a portion of his
weight on to the near shoulder; this, by throwing the animal's weight
over on to the offside, enables the foot to be easily held up.This lesson imparted, it is extended to the off fore foot.Daniel went to the office.Should the
colt, by laying back his ears, showing the whites of his eyes, hugging
his tail, and other demonstrations of wickedness, evince his objections
to being handled behind the girth, one of the fore feet must be held up
and strapped, the buckle of the strap being on the outside of the arm,
the foot brought so close to the point of the elbow that no play is
left to the knee joint.Then commence to wisp him all over commencing
with the head, but, if he is not very restive, do not keep the weight
on three legs more than ten minutes at a time, though he, if not
overburdened with fat, could easily stand very much longer, or travel a
mile or so on three legs.The object, unless vice be displayed, is
merely to prevent serious resistance and to convince him that the
operation causes no pain.The wisp, the assistant all the time standing
at his head speaking in low reassuring tone, patting and caressing him,
in the hands of the operator should be at first very gently then
briskly applied to the flanks, over the loins, down the quarters and
along the channel running between the buttocks, inside the flanks,
stifles and haunches, over the sheath, down inside the hocks, in fact
anywhere and everywhere known to be tender and "kittle."Having
succeeded with the near fore foot up, release it, let him rest awhile
and find his way to the store-room dainties.Go through precisely the
same lesson with the right foot up, on this occasion giving special
attention to those parts which he most strongly objects to being
handled.Dwell over his hocks and the inside of his stifles, handle his
tail, freely sponging his dock out, running the sponge down through the
channel over the sheath, the inside of the thighs and hocks.Release
the fore foot, and if he will stand a repetition of all these liberties
quietly, he has learnt one important part of his education.Elsewhere I have endeavoured to describe the unsophisticated antics
displayed by the fresh-caught Australian buck-jumper and the inveterate
plunger in endeavouring to dislocate their riders.In the one case it
is the untaught, unpractised effort of an animal in a paroxysm of fear;
in the other the vice of the artful, tricky, practitioner.In either
case the horseman may be, very often is, "slung" handsomely, wondering,
as he picks himself up, dazed and bewildered with an incoherent idea as
to what had befallen him, and how he got there.Sandra moved to the bedroom.If a wild horse
suddenly finds a panther or a tiger on his back, he at once, in terror,
endeavours by a succession of flings to get rid of the incubus.So it
is with the unbroken colt bred in captivity, and especially so with the
pony fresh from his native hills or pastures.John went to the bedroom.What must be his
astonishment when, for the first time he feels a saddle tightly girthed
to his back, and the weight of some one in it?Daniel went back to the kitchen.His first and only
feeling is that of fear, so, being prevented by the bit and bridle from
rushing off at the verge of his speed, he by bucks, plunges, and kicks,
sets to work to throw the rider.In mounting the colt the first attempts at making him quite quiet
during the process should be in the direction of eliminating every
sense of fear.As saddles, especially if badly stuffed and cold, are
the cause of many back troubles, I prefer to have him, in the first
instance, ridden in a rug or sheepskin, the wool next his hair, kept in
its place by a broad web surcingle.Hold the rug or skin to his nose,
and let him smell and feel it, rub it over his head, down his neck, in
fact all over him, not neatly folded up but loose; toss it about, drag
it over him, round him, between his fore legs, under his belly, and out
between his thighs.When he takes no heed of it, fold it up on his back
and girth it on with the surcingle.Then lead him out for half an hour
or so occasionally, pulling up to lean a good bit of weight on his
back.On returning to the loose box, covered yard, or paddock, the first
lesson in mounting will be commenced.Having secured the services of
some active smart lad who can ride and vault, the lighter the better,
make him stand on a mounting block, an inverted empty wine chest will
do, placed near his fore leg.If the pony be nervous at this block, let
him examine it, smell it, touch it, and even eat a few carrots off it.Standing on this coign of advantage, the lad must loll over him,
patting him, reaching down well on the off side, leaning at first a
portion, and then his whole weight on him.If he makes no objection to
this treatment, the lad should seat himself on his back, mounting and
dismounting repeatedly, slowly but neatly, being careful not to descend
on his back with a jerk.So long as the colt shows no fear, this
gymnastic practice may be varied with advantage to almost any extent,
the contact of the gymnast's body with that of the pony being as close
as possible.He should not only vault all over him and straddle him,
but should crawl and creep all over him and under him, winding up by
vaulting on his back, over his head, and over his quarters.I have
frequently taught Arabs to put their heads between my legs and by the
sudden throw-up of their necks to send me into the saddle face to the
tail.On no account hurry this mounting practice, do not let him be
flustered or fatigued, and see that the rider's foot deftly clears him
without once touching or kicking him; much depends on the clean manner
in which the various mountings and dismountings are performed.The mounting block will be dispensed with so soon as the rider is
permitted to throw his right leg over his back and to straddle him
without starting.It is essential that he should stand stock still and
that he should not move forward without the usual "klick."When quite
patient and steady in being mounted with the rug or fleece, a nice
light 5 lb.polo or racing saddle with a "Humane" numnah under it
should be substituted, and if the pony's shoulders are low and upright
a crupper will be necessary.Care must be taken that the crupper strap
is not too tight, also that the crupper itself does not produce a scald
under the dock of the tail; a strip of lamb-skin, the wool next the
dock, will ensure that.After being led about in the saddle for a time,
he is brought into the box or yard and there mounted by the lad, the
trainer having hold of the leading rein, the rider of the bridle.John journeyed to the kitchen.All he has to do is to preserve the
lightest possible touch of the mouth, and to sit firm and sit quiet.I
would rather prefer that he did not hail from a racing stable, for
these imps--the most mischievous of their race--are up to all sorts of
tricks and are accustomed to ride trusting almost entirely to the
support gained from their knotted bridle and the steady pressure
against the stirrup somewhat after the principle of the coachman and
his foot-board.He must be forced to keep his heels and his ashplant
quiet.I am averse to much lounging and am confident it is overdone.On
carrying the lad quietly led by hand, the following lessons should be
in company with some staid old stager.Markedly gregarious in his
habits, the horse never feels so happy or contended as when in company;
in the society of a well-behaved tractable member of his family he will
do all that is required of him.Soon the leading rein will be
superfluous and the pony and his rider will be able to go anywhere at
any pace.It is especially advisable that when his first rides lie away
from home he should be ridden in company with some other horse, or he
may turn restive.Be very careful not to attempt anything with him that
may lead up to a fight in which he may remain master.Any disposition
on his part to "reest" or to break out into rebellion is proof of his
not having learnt his first lessons properly.Far better to lead him
away from home for a mile or two and then to mount him, than to hazard
any difference of opinion.The example of a well-broken, well-ridden,
well-mannered horse is very important.One act of successful
disobedience may undo the careful labour of weeks and necessitate very
stringent measures, such as those described in my previous volume, in
the case of confirmed vice.Weeks of careful riding always under the
trainer's eye, will be required before the lessons are complete, and
the pupil sobered down so as to be a safe and comfortable conveyance
for children beginners.The following are adapted as closely as possible from the carefully
thought-out system of Military Equitation practised in the British
Army, and may be executed as follows:--
_Prepare for Extension and Balance Motions._--On this caution each
rider will turn his horse facing the Instructor, drop the reins on the
horse's neck, and let both arms hang down easily from the shoulders,
with the palms of the hands to the front.This is the position of
_Attention_.CAUTION.--_First Practice._
{On the word "One" bring the hands, at the full
{ extent of the arms, to the front, close to the body,
{ knuckles downwards till the fingers meet at the
"ONE" { points; then raise in a circular direction over
{ the head, the ends of the fingers still touching
{ and pointing downwards so as to touch the forehead,
{ thumbs pointing to the rear, elbows pressed
{ back, shoulders kept well down.Mary went to the hallway.{On the word "Two," throw the hands up, extending
{ the arms smartly upwards, palms of the hands
{ inwards; then force them obliquely back, and
"TWO" { gradually let them fall to the position of _Attention_,
{ the first position, elevating the neck and
{ chest as much as possible.N.B.--The foregoing motions are to be done slowly, so that the muscles
may be fully exerted throughout.CAUTION.--_Second Practice._
{On the word "One" raise the hands in front of the
"ONE" { body, at the full extent of the arms, and in a line
{ with the mouth, palms meeting, but without noise,
{ thumbs close to the forefingers.{On the word "Two," separate the hands smartly,
"TWO" { throwing them well back, slanting downwards,
{ palms turned slightly upward.{On the word "One," resume the first position above
"ONE" { described, and so on, sitting down on the saddle
"TWO" { without any attempt, in resuming the first position,
|
kitchen | Where is Daniel? | "THREE" {On the word "Three," smartly resume the position
{ of _Attention_.John journeyed to the hallway.In this practice the second motion may be continued without repeating
the words "One," "Two," by giving the order "Continue the Motion:" on
the word "Steady," the second position is at once resumed, the rider
remaining in that position, head well up, chin in, and chest thrown
out, on the word "Three," resuming the position of _Attention_.CAUTION.--_Third Practice._
{On the word "One," raise the hands, with the fists
"ONE" { clenched, in front of the body, at the full extent
{ of the arms, and in line with the mouth, thumbs
{ upwards, fingers touching.{On the word "Two," separate the hands smartly,
"TWO" { throwing the arms back in line with the shoulders,
{ back of the hands downwards.Daniel journeyed to the hallway."THREE" {On the word "Three," swing the arms round as
{ quickly as possible from front to rear."STEADY" On the word "Steady," resume the second position."FOUR" {On the word "Four," let the arms fall smartly to
{ the position of _Attention_.CAUTION.--_Fourth Practice._
{On the word "One," lean back until the back of
"ONE" { the head touches the horse's quarter, but moving
{ the legs as little as possible."TWO" On the word "Two," resume the original position.CAUTION.--_Fifth Practice._
{On the word "One," lean down to the left side and
"ONE" { touch the left foot with the left hand without,
{ however, drawing up the foot to meet the hand."TWO" On the word "Two," resume the original position.The same practice should also be done to the right reaching down as far
as possible, but without drawing the left heel up and back.Daniel went to the office.The following practice can only be performed in the cross-saddle, by
pupils learning to ride a la cavaliere, and suitably dressed.Sandra moved to the bedroom.CAUTION.--_Sixth Practice._
{On the word "One," pass the right leg over the
{ horse's neck, and, turning on the seat, sit facing
"ONE" { the proper left, keeping the body upright, and the
{ hands resting on the knees.The leg must not
{ be bent in passing over the horse's neck.{On the word "Two," pass the left leg over the
"TWO" { horse's quarter, and turning in the seat, sit facing
{ to the rear, assuming, as much as possible, the
{ proper mounted position, the arms hanging
{ behind the thighs.John went to the bedroom.{On the word "Three," pass the right leg over the
"THREE" { horse's quarter, and, turning in the seat, sit facing
{ to the proper right, the body upright, and the
{ hands resting on the knees.{On the word "Four," pass the left leg over the
"FOUR" { horse's neck, and, turning in the seat, resume the
{ proper mounted position.Each of the above motions may be performed by command of the instructor
without repeating the words "One," "Two," "Three," etc.Transcriber's Note: Inconsistencies in spelling, punctuation, and
hyphenation have been retained as printed.I asked if domestic harmony
prevailed among them, and how they conducted themselves as parents and
children, brothers and sisters.All her answers tended to convince me that pious protestants lived
under the influence of the word of God; and at each disclosure she
made, (though unconscious of the value I attached to it,) I said to
myself, "_This is_ the morality of the Gospel."Satisfied on this point, I turned to another:
"How do the protestants spend their Sabbaths and festivals," I asked,
"separated as they are from each other and their church?Do they ever
assemble for prayer, or do they live without worship?"they don't live without worship; they have their divine
services; they are at too great a distance from their minister and
each other to meet every Sunday, but they have a church in the country
where they assemble many times in a year, I believe once a month; and
at other times they meet for prayer at their own houses."then
they have a church near Libos?I should very much like to know," said
I, "how they conduct their worship, and what they do at their church?"Daniel went back to the kitchen."I can tell you perfectly," replied your mother, "for I was present at
one of their assemblies.There is nothing grand or striking in their
churches; they contain neither altar, chapel, images, nor any ornament
whatever, but consist simply of four whitewashed walls.At the lower
end is a pulpit, like that used by our priest, in front of which is a
table, and around it are seats occupied by the elders.The rest of
the church is fitted up with benches, placed in order, on which the
congregation seat themselves as they enter."I observed that most of them, before they sat down, leaned upon the
back of the seat before them, and seemed to be in the act of prayer.Their service was as simple as the building, devoid of ceremony.When
the congregation had assembled, one of the elders ascended the pulpit
and prayed aloud in French; then he gave notice that he was about to
read the word of God; and having requested their attention, he did
read, for some time, from a great book, which they told me was the
Holy Bible.He then offered prayers, and preached a sermon, which gave
me great pleasure at the time, but which I now forget.I well remember
that throughout the service there was no noise nor disturbance of any
kind in the church, and one feeling seemed to pervade the whole: this
struck me forcibly."In this description of the protestant worship, imperfect as it was,
I thought I could recognise those traits of simplicity that
characterized the worship of the primitive christians: and when your
mother had finished, I said to myself, "This is indeed like the
worship recorded in the Acts of the Apostles."But I added, without
allowing her to perceive the extreme satisfaction that this
information afforded me, "Is this all you know of the protestant
worship?"Yes, I have," she replied, "on that same day, which was the only time
I ever entered their church.""Do tell me, then, how was it conducted?""I told you, if you remember, that there was a table in front of the
pulpit: this table was their altar; it was covered with a very white
cloth: in the middle of it were a plate of bread and two chalices of
wine.When the minister had finished preaching, he took a book, and
read from it some beautiful passages on the communion, sufferings, and
death of Christ; he also spoke of the duty of communicants; then
every one stood up while he prayed: after which he descended from the
pulpit, and came in front of the holy table; he here repeated aloud
some words which I have forgotten, and took a small piece of bread and
ate it; this done, he took the two cups in his hands, and again saying
something that I did not hear, he drank some of the wine.The elders
then approached the table, and each received a piece of bread, which
they ate, and drank a little of the wine from the cup which was
presented to them.The rest of the congregation did the same, the
women after the men; and when all had communicated, the minister
re-ascended the pulpit, gave another exhortation, offered a concluding
prayer, and closed the whole by urging upon them the care of the
poor.""This," thought I, "is indeed the supper of the Lord!"The conformity that I had already observed between the practices of
the protestants and those of the primitive christians, created in me a
feeling of joy which I had never before experienced.I desired, with
renewed ardour, to search to the bottom of their doctrines, and
from that time I anticipated that I might myself become a decided
Protestant.This expectation, my children, soon increased into a
certainty.On the tenth of February last, two pamphlets fell into my hands; one
was published by a Roman Catholic priest, and contained an attack on
the protestant religion: the other was an answer, in defence of that
religion, written by a protestant minister: these were the first words
of religious controversy I had ever read, and eagerly did I devour
these two little works.That of the first (which had been written on
the occasion of a respectable family having recently embraced the
Protestant faith) contained nothing that was solid, or that I could
not have refuted in the very words of Christ and his Apostles;
therefore I did not dwell upon it.But the second, under the title
of _A Letter to Malanie_, was the very thing I wanted, and was so
anxiously desiring to find--an exposition of the protestant creed, or
at least of its most essential points.It taught me that the Gospel
was their only rule of faith, worship, and conduct: that they admitted
all that they found established by the Holy Scriptures, but rejected
every thing else, and especially prohibited the invocation of saints,
the worship of images, of relics, and of the holy Virgin.John journeyed to the kitchen.It taught
me that they worshipped God alone, through Jesus Christ his Son;
that their only hope of salvation was in his mercy, revealed in the
sacrifice of the cross of Christ; that they recognised no other
Mediator, no other Advocate, and no other Intercessor with God, than
him who gave himself as such, and who alone has the right of saying to
sinners, "Come unto me and I will give you rest."It taught me that
they believed no more than myself in purgatory, in the supremacy of
the pope, or in the real presence, &c. In short, it taught me that
the protestants received and professed no other than primitive
Christianity.It would be impossible for me to tell you how rejoiced I was to find
my most intimate feelings expressed by a minister of a religion
founded on the Gospel.From this, and from all that your mother had
told me, I clearly saw that the Protestants were unjustly accused and
misrepresented by the wicked or the ignorant, and that they were in
truth those christians, according to the word of God, to whom the
promises of the Gospel are made.From that time I acknowledged them
as my true brethren in Christ Jesus, and my chief desire was to be
admitted into their communion.I clearly foresaw, my children, that by making an open avowal of my
religious principles, and by publicly declaring myself a Protestant, I
should raise many violent passions against myself, and expose myself
to a thousand trials; but the truth was dearer to me than life, and
conscience spoke louder than the fear of man.I resolved, therefore,
without hesitation, to confess my Saviour before men, let the result
be what it might, and I immediately wrote to Mr.----, the pastor
at Nerac, and the author of the letter I had read, requesting the
assistance of his experience and kind advice.In short, after I had
been eleven months in correspondence with this excellent minister of
the Lord; after I had visited him, in order to acquaint him more
fully with the state of my mind, and to enjoy the privilege of his
instruction; after I had frequently attended the performance of
Protestant worship and their different religious ordinances; after I
had carefully compared these, as well as their doctrines, with the
only standard of truth, the word of God, and was fully convinced of
their perfect accordance, I no longer saw a motive for delay, but
requested admission, and was received as a member of the Protestant
church.Mary went to the hallway.On the twenty-third of the December following, I went to Nerac, and on
Christmas day, in the presence of the whole congregation, having, as I
trust, first given my heart unto the Lord, I became publicly united to
his saints, and received the sacred _symbols_ of the body and blood of
my Saviour at the Lord's Supper, and pledged myself to remain faithful
to him till death.I trust that he will vouchsafe to me his assistance
for the fulfilment of this promise, and manifest his strength in my
weakness.Thus it was, my beloved children, that I became a member of
the Reformed Church of Christ.I have now explained to you the
circumstances and motives that have led me to its sanctuary.In the
presence of God I attest the truth of all I have now written.The
ranks of the true church are not recruited by means of bribery,
deceit, fraud, false miracles, or compulsion; all means are rejected
but _instruction, reason_, and persuasion.This church has been
formed, and still exists, notwithstanding the blows that have been
levelled at it; and it will for ever continue, in spite of all the
rage of hell; sustained by the simple exhibition of that Gospel which
is its only guide and support.May it please that God whom I supplicate for the salvation of all men,
and more especially for the conversion and prosperity of my enemies,
to give his grace to you, my children, that you may be found among the
number of those who shall be saved.Happy should I be, not only to be
your natural father, but also your spiritual father!Happy, indeed,
should I be, if at that great day, when we shall appear before God
to receive the sentence of our eternal destiny, I might be able to
present myself and you, without fear, and say, "Here, Lord, am I, and
the children thou hast given me."THE HISTORY
OF A
BIBLE.After remaining a close prisoner for some months in a bookseller's
shop, I was liberated, and taken to the country to be a companion to a
young gentleman who had lately become major.The moment I entered the
parlour where he sat, he rose up and took me in his hands, expressing
his surprise at the elegance of my dress, which was scarlet,
embroidered with gold.The whole family seemed greatly pleased with my
appearance; but they would not permit me to say one word.Sandra went back to the bathroom.After their
curiosity was satisfied they desired me to sit down upon a chair in
the corner of the room.In the evening I was taken up stairs, and
confined in the family prison, called by them the library.Several
thousand prisoners were under the same sentence, standing in rows
around the room; they had their names written upon their foreheads,
but none of them were allowed to speak.We all remained in this silent, inactive posture for some years.Mary went to the office.Now
and then a stranger was admitted to see us: these generally wondered
at our number, beauty, and the order in which we stood; but our young
jailor would never allow a person to touch us, or take us from our
cell.A gentleman came in one morning and spoke in high commendation of some
Arabians and Turks who stood at my right side; he said they
would afford fine entertainment on a winter evening.Upon this
recommendation they were all discharged from prison, and taken down
stairs.After they had finished their fund of stories, and had not
a word more to say, they were remanded back to prison, and one, who
called himself Don Quixotte, was set at liberty.This man, being
extremely witty, afforded fine sport for William, (for that was our
proprietor's name.)Indeed, for more than a fortnight he kept the
whole house in what is called good humour.After Quixotte had
concluded his harangues, William chose a "Man of Feeling |
office | Where is Daniel? | William now began to put a higher value upon his prisoners,
and to use them much more politely.Daniel journeyed to the office.Almost daily he held a little
chit-chat with one prisoner or another.Hume related to him the
history of England down to the Revolution, which he interspersed with
a number of anecdotes about Germany, France, Italy, and various other
kingdoms.Robertson then described the state of South America when
first discovered, and related the horrid barbarities committed by the
Spaniards when they stole it from the natives.William wept when he heard
of their savage treatment of Montezuma.Rollin next spoke; he related to
him the rise and fall of ancient empires; he told him that God was supreme
governor among the nations; that he raises up one to great power and
splendour, and putteth down another.He told him, what he did not know
before, that God had often revealed to some men events which were to
happen hundreds of years afterwards, and directed him to converse with me,
and I could fully inform him on that subject.William resolved to
converse with me at a future period, but having heard some of his
relations speak rather disrespectfully of me, he was in no hurry.At length my prison door was unlocked, and I was conducted to his
bed-room.[Illustration: HISTORY OF A BIBLE.]In the beginning, said I, God made
the heavens and the earth; and then proceeded to make man, whom he
placed in a garden, with permission to eat of every tree that was in
it, except one.Mary went back to the garden.I then related the history of Adam, the first man:
how he was urged and prevailed upon by the devil not to mind God's
prohibition, but to eat of the forbidden tree; and how by this
abominable act he had plunged himself and posterity into misery.William not relishing this conversation, closed my mouth, desiring me
to say no more at that time.A few days afterwards he allowed me to talk of the wickedness of
the old world: how God sent Noah to reprove their iniquity, and to
threaten the destruction of the whole world, if they did not repent
and turn to the Lord; that the world were deaf to his remonstrances;
and that God at last desired Noah to build an ark of wood, such as
would contain himself and family; for he was soon to destroy the
inhabitants of the earth by a deluge of water.This conversation was
rather more relished than the former.The next opportunity, I gave him a history of the ancient patriarchs,
showing the simplicity, integrity, and holiness of their lives,
extolling their faith in God, and promptness in obeying all his
commandments.William became much more thoughtful than I had seen him
upon any former occasion.What I told him he generally related to his
friends at table.Their conversation was now more manly and rational;
formerly they conversed only about horses, hounds, dress, &c. now
about the history of the world, its creation, the remarkable men
who had lived in it, the different changes which had taken place in
empires, kingdoms, &c.
He was wonderfully taken with the account I gave of that nation whom
God had chosen for his own people, viz.I told him how
wonderfully God had delivered them from captivity in Egypt; how he
drowned in the Red Sea an army of Egyptians, with their king at their
head, who were pursuing the Jews.But when I told him of the holy law
of God, and expatiated a little upon it, he shrugged up his shoulders
and said it was too strict for him.Well, William, said I, cursed is
every one who continueth not in _all things_ written or commanded in
that law.He pushed me aside, ran down stairs, and soon became sick
and feverish.His mother begged of him to tell her of his sudden
distress.He said I had alarmed him exceedingly; that he found himself
a great sinner, and saw no mercy for him in the world to come.His
mother came running up stairs, and in the heat of passion locked me
into my old cell, where I remained in close confinement for some days.But William could not dispense with my company; accordingly I was sent
for.I found him very pale and pensive; however, I faithfully told
him, that the imaginations of the thoughts of the heart are only evil,
and that continually.He said he lately began to feel that; he had
tried to make it better, but could not.Upon this a stranger entered
the room, and I was hid at the back of a sofa, because the family were
quite ashamed that I should be seen talking with William.The stranger
remarked that he had seen him talking with me, assured him that I
would do him much more harm than good: that I had occasioned great
confusion in the world, by driving many people mad.On this, they all
joined in scandalizing my character, and I was again confined to my
old cell.But when my God enables me to fix an arrow in any sinner's heart, the
whole universe cannot draw it out.William was always uneasy when I
was not with him; consequently he paid me many a stolen visit.I told
him one day not to trust in riches, for they often took to themselves
wings, and flew from one man to another, as God directed them.Job
once possessed houses, lands, sheep, a flourishing family, all of
which were taken from him in a few hours; but God never forsook him.William's friends got him persuaded to take a tour for a few weeks, to
remove the gloom which hung upon his mind.He did so; but he returned
more dejected than ever.The moment he arrived I was sent for to talk
with him.I directed him to behold the Lamb of God who taketh away the
sins of the world: I said there was no other name given under heaven
among men, but the name of Jesus, by which they could be saved; that
God so loved the world as to send his Son into it, to save it by his
death.I then went over the whole history of the Saviour, from
his birth at Bethlehem to his death on Calvary; describing his
resurrection, and pointing out the evidence of it; then led his
attention to Bethany, describing the marvellous circumstances
attending his ascension to his Father; and testified to him the
wonderful effects which followed in the immense increase of
conversions to the faith.I then enlarged upon Christ's commission
to his apostles, commanding them to publish to every creature under
heaven the glad news that Christ had died for the _ungodly_; had
finished redemption, and ascended up on high to receive gifts for men,
and to bestow them on all who believed God's testimony concerning him.God opened the mind of William to perceive the importance and truth of
these things.He began to hope in God, through the offering of his Son
a sacrifice for sin.I advised him now to follow holiness, without
which no man shall see the Lord in heaven, or can continue to see
his glory on earth; to have no fellowship with wicked men; to be a
faithful steward of whatever God had given him.I told him how Christ
rewarded those who overcame all their enemies through faith in his
blood, and by believing the word of his testimony.This conversation
made him very happy, and he left me, rejoicing in the Lord.Sometime after, he came with a sorrowful heart, complaining that he
did not feel the Lord's presence; that God had forsaken him.I assured
him that was impossible; for God expressly says he will _never_ leave
nor forsake his people; and that he changes not in his love to them.I
warned him to be cautious how he spoke against God, for such language
is calling God a liar.I told him likewise, that the church had once
preferred a similar complaint against her God; upon which Jehovah
protested that it was possible for a mother to forsake her infant
child, but impossible for him ever to leave or to forsake his people;
for he had pledged his _word_ to the contrary.Wherefore I warned
him to be no more faithless, but believing; and by doing so he would
glorify God greatly before men: it would tend to make men think more
favourably of God, and probably lead some to seek an interest in his
favor, who otherwise would not.Upon this he cried out with tears,
Lord, I believe, help thou my unbelief.I change in my love, but thou
changest not.William left me, determined to rejoice evermore, and to
pray without ceasing.At first his friends thought religion had made him less happy than he
was before; now they declared they had never seen him in such good
spirits, and so truly happy.William longed for the coming of the Lord, while they trembled at the
very thought of it: they rather wished he might never come.This was a
great advantage he had over them by the grace and tender mercy of
the Lord.He exhorted them to come to the same Saviour, and he would
receive them also with open arms.I told him God
sent it to him for good, to make him more holy, humble, dead to sin
and the world, and more fit for heaven.He believed me, and praised
God for his attention to him, to send this messenger of affliction to
do him good.A person who came in, expressed sorrow at seeing him so
pained.William replied, don't sorrow for me; rejoice rather, because
God has said that our light afflictions, which are but for a moment,
work out for us a far more exceeding and an eternal weight of glory.I
am willing to be sick, or to die, or to recover, just as God pleases;
whatever pleases him pleases me.I was never from him during his sickness; he praised God daily that he
had ever seen me.He was happy only when he talked with me or about
me.He recommended me to all who came near him, declaring that my
words created a heaven in his soul.He found me to be the mouth of God
to him.William was completely recovered from his indisposition, by which his
knowledge of God, and experience of his faithfulness and love, was
much increased.I continued his bosom companion for many years.He
talked in the fear of God, and in the comforts of his Holy Spirit,
till at length he entered, with triumph, into the eternal joy of his
Lord.* * * * *
After conducting William to the gates of the New Jerusalem, I was sent
for to reside with a young man in the middling ranks of life, who had
received a liberal and religious education from his parents, lately
removed from this poor world.The effects of their example and counsel
were evident in all his conduct.He lived what men call a _good
moral life_, his deportment was very agreeable, and his sobriety was
commended by many.He regularly conversed with me twice every day, and
prayed in his closet morning and evening.On Sabbath I talked to him
from dinner to tea, and from tea to supper.An old uncle of his perpetually exhorted him to go abroad to amass a
fortune.He did not at first relish the advice.I bluntly told him to be content with such things as he had; not
to hasten to be rich, for he would thereby pierce himself with many
sorrows: that numbers were ruined through the deceitfulness of riches.Labour not for the meat that perisheth, said I, but for that which
endureth to everlasting life.After this conversation, he reasoned
with his uncle against leaving his country and friends merely to make
money in a foreign land: he declared that the object was a pitiful one
to an immortal creature, who must soon bid an eternal adieu to the
affairs of time.However, after standing his ground for some months,
he consented to go a voyage to the West Indies.He set sail from Liverpool, and took me along with him.As there were
several passengers in the ship, all of whom were profane sinners, he
was ashamed to let me be seen; of course I was hid in a corner of the
state-room, completely masked.On the first Sabbath morning, he took
a single peep at me before the other passengers awoke.I hastily told
him to remember the Sabbath to keep it holy; that God was every where
present to witness the works of men.He resolved to abide by my
advice, and to keep at as great a distance from those on board as he
well could.They asked him to take a hand at cards, but he refused.said they, we have got one of your superstitious Christians along
with us; we shall have nice sport with him.They teased him with his
religion the whole day, and poor George could not well bear it.One
bold sinner asserted, that before they reached their destination, they
would have all his enthusiasm hammered out of him.George having none to encourage or countenance him, and not possessing
firmness sufficient for confessing me before men, resolved to dispense
with his religion during the voyage, and to comply with their
abandoned customs, while he continued in the ship.One day in the midst of his merriment, he recollected an advice which
I had solemnly given him.It was this: When sinners entice thee,
consent thou not.Immediately he rushed out of the cabin, threw
himself on his bed, and wept bitterly.He cried out, (but not so loud
as to be heard,) I have ruined my soul, O what would my worthy mother
have said, had she witnessed my conduct for days past.On his return
to the cabin, the sadness of his countenance was observed by the
company; they laughed heartily and assured him that his reluctance to
join them in what they termed sociality, arose from the prejudices of
education: that he must endeavour to banish all his fears of futurity,
and mind present enjoyment.These and similar observations gradually
unhinged the principles of young George, and before reaching their
destined port, his checks of conscience were almost gone.What a
dreadful state, when man's conscience ceases to be his reprover!Men
are often glad when they obtain this deliverance, but the infatuation
is as shocking to a pious mind as to see a man in flames rejoicing in
the heat which will infallibly consume him.After the arrival of
the ship, we all went ashore; and George was soon fixed in a very
advantageous situation for money making.When the first Sabbath
arrived, he protested against transacting business on that day,
declaring that he had never been accustomed to any thing of that kind.They advised him to labour hard seven days in the week, that he might
return sooner to the country from whence he came; and at length
prevailed on him to conform to their infidel practices.I told him
that for all these things God would bring him into judgment; that he
was like the rest of the wicked, who waxed worse and worse; that
he did not love Jesus Christ, else he would keep his commandments,
notwithstanding all the raillery and reproach to which he was exposed.I warned him that whoever was ashamed to confess Christ before men,
of him would he be ashamed in the presence of his Father and the holy
angels.In a few months he became as wicked and abandoned as any on the
island.He made a present of me to a poor native, who could read a
little English.I frequently conversed with him, but he could
not understand what I said.He often desired me to speak to his
companions.A few were greatly affected with what I said.Sometimes they pleasantly said my words made them very
happy, they desired to go to that happy world which I commended so
highly.They fervently prayed to Jesus to take them to it.An old
slave creeped in one day, inquiring if Jesus could do any thing for
very bad people.I replied, It is a faithful saying, that Christ Jesus
came into the world to save sinners, even the chief.He is able to
save unto the very uttermost all who come unto God through him.The
black man, bathed in tears, exclaimed, Good book!Like the Ethiopian eunuch, he went away rejoicing.After some years I was sent for in great haste to visit my old
proprietor George, who by his intemperance was brought to the gates
of death.I told him fools make a
mock at sin, but sin finds them out.God had been long angry with him
every day.He confessed he had been a great sinner.He said that bad
company had been his ruin: that by following their example he had
destroyed a fine constitution; that in his distress his bottle |
garden | Where is Daniel? | Had I my days to begin again, said he, I would flee from a
swearer or a drunkard, as I would from the plague.He prayed fervently
that God would forgive his iniquity for the sake of his Son Jesus
Christ.His fever increased, and in a few days he went the way of all
the earth.After this I became the inmate of a respectable family which had
long been on the island.The master and mistress were professors of
religion, but during their residence in the island they had neglected
many of its most important duties.Daniel journeyed to the office.At length one of their children became ill and died.I gave them to understand, that it was because they
had gone astray that they were afflicted, and that their affliction
was designed to call them back to duty.They were at length persuaded
of their error, and praised God that he had loved them so much as to
chastise them.They now strove to serve God with all their hearts.They listened to me when I told them that they should instruct their
children in religion on every proper occasion, both when they sat in
the house and when they walked by the way.The youth of that family
became at length distinguished throughout the island for every
virtuous and amiable quality.But what did more to make religion respected in that house, was the
practice of family prayer.I was brought out night and morning, and
permitted to speak before all the family, which was seated around the
room in a respectful and attentive attitude.I seldom spoke with more
effect than on these occasions.I addressed every member of the family
in their turn.I commanded the parents to treat their children with
mildness, and the children to obey their parents.I told the little
ones that Christ took little children in his arms and blessed them;
and bade the servants do their duty to their master, and the master to
be kind to his servants.And when my instructions were finished, all
in the house united in singing a hymn to God; and I believe they
sometimes made melody in their hearts.When they had sung, my master
would kneel and offer up a humble prayer to God.These exercises
caused harmony to prevail throughout a numerous family.I observed
also that although the inhabitants of the island did not relish my
master's piety, yet he every day obtained more and more of their
respect, as his piety increased.I have lived many years, and have seen all those children grown up (I
believe through my instructions) in the fear of the Lord.I was by the
bed-side of their parents when the messenger Death came to call them
away.I spoke to them of the joys of heaven, and of its inhabitants,
who sing praise to the Lamb, and cease not day nor night.They cried,
"Lord Jesus, come quickly," and ascended to glory.I have always been a faithful friend to all who have sought
acquaintance with me.I will show
thee the only path that leads through this world to heaven.Follow my
instructions, and you will arrive there in safety.In her heart always had towered a very lofty monument to the sacredness
of love, fearsomely chaste, flameless, majestic.So pure, so immaculate
was this solemn and supreme edifice she had already builded that the
moment's thrill in his arms had seemed to violate it.Mary went back to the garden.For the girl had
always believed a kiss to be in itself part of that vague, indefinite
miracle of supreme surrender.And the knowledge and guilt of it still
flushed her cheeks at intervals and meddled with her heart.She had forgiven, had tried to readjust herself before her mystic altar.And the awakened woman in her aided her
and taught her, inspiring, exciting her with a knowledge new to her, the
knowledge of her power.Then, as she sat there looking at this man and at the brown-eyed girl
beside him, suddenly she experienced a subtle sense of fear: fear of
what?She did not know, did not ask herself.Not even the apprehension,
the dread of parting with him had made her afraid; not even the
certainty that he was going to join his regiment had aroused in her more
than a sense of impending loneliness.But something was waking it now--something that pierced her through and
through: and she caught her breath sharply, like a child who has been
startled.For the first time in her life the sense of possession had been aroused
in her, and with it the subtle instinct to defend what was her own.She looked very intensely at the brown eyes of the young girl who stood
laughing and gossiping there with the man she did not know how to
answer--the man with whom she did not know what to do.But every
instinct in her was alert to place upon this man the unmistakable sign
of ownership.He was hers, no matter what she might do with him.To Darrel, trying to converse with her, she replied smilingly,
mechanically; but her small ears were ringing with the gay laughter of
Valentine and the quick, smiling responses of Guild as they stood with
their heads together over the contents of the fly-book, consulting,
advising, and selecting the most likely and murderous lures.Neither of them glanced in her direction; apparently they were most
happily absorbed in this brand new friendship of theirs.Very slowly and thoughtfully Karen's small head sank; and she sat gazing
at the brilliant masses of salvia bloom clustering at her feet, silent,
overwhelmed under the tremendous knowledge of what had come upon her
here in the sunshine of a cloudless sky.called back Valentine airily; "we shall return before dusk
with a dozen very large trout!"Guild turned to make his adieux, hat in hand; caught Karen's eye, nodded
pleasantly, and walked away across the lawn, with Valentine close beside
him, still discussing and fussing over the cast they had chosen for the
trout's undoing.CHAPTER XIX
THE LIAR
The lamps had not yet been lighted in the big, comfortable living-room
and late sunlight striped wall and ceiling with rose where Karen sat
sewing, and Darrel, curled up in a vast armchair, frowned over a book.And well he might, for it was a treatise on German art.His patience arriving at the vanishing point he started to hurl the book
from him, then remembering that it was not his to hurl, slapped it shut.Which caused Karen to lift her deep violet eyes inquiringly.Which observation
conveyed no meaning to Karen."It used to be merely ample, adipose, and
indigestible.Now the moderns have made it sinister and unclean.The
ham-fist has become the mailed fist; the fat and trickling source of
Teutonic inspiration has become polluted.There is no decadence more
hideous than the brain cancer of a Hercules."She said with hesitation:
"The moderns, I think, are wandering outside immutable boundaries.If any mind believes the inclosed territory
exhausted, there is nothing further to be found outside in the waste
places--only chaos.And the mind must shift to another and totally
different pasture--which also has its boundaries eternal and fixed.""No sculptor can find for sculpture any new
mode of expression beyond the limits of the materials which have always
existed; no painter can wander outside the range of black and white, or
beyond the surface allotted him; the composer can express himself in
music only within the limits of the audible scale; the writer is a
prisoner to grammatical expression, walled always within the margins of
the printed page.Outside, as you say, lies chaos, possibly madness.And some of them are announcing the discovery
of German Kultur where they have barked their mental shins in outer
darkness.""It is that way in music I think.The dissonance of mental
disturbance warns sanity in almost every bar of modern music.It is that
which is so appalling to me, Mr.Darrel--that in some modernism is
visible and audible more and more the menace of mental and moral
disintegration.Darrel said: "Three insane 'thinkers' have led Germany to the brink
where she now stands swaying.God help her, in the end, to
convalescence--" he stared at the fading sunbeams on the wall, and
staring, quoted:
"'_Over broken oaths and
Through a sea of blood._'"
He looked up."I'm sorry: I forget you are German.""I forget that I am supposed to be, too.... But you have not offended
me.I know that war will not always be the
method used to settle disputes.There will be great changes beginning
very soon in the world, I think."It will begin by a recognition of the rights of
smaller nations to self-government.It will be an area of respect for
the weak.Government by consent is not enough; it must become government
by request.And the scriptures shall remain no more sacred than the
tiniest'scrap of paper' in the archives of the numerically smallest
independent community on earth."The era of physical vastness, of spheres of influence, of scope is
dying.The supreme wickedness of the world is Force.That must end for
nations and for men.Only one conflict remains inevitable and eternal;
the battle of minds, which can have no end."For an American and an operator in real estate, Darrel's philosophy was
harmlessly respectable if not very new.But he thought it both new and
original, which pleased him intensely.As for Karen, she had been thinking of Guild for the last few minutes.Her sewing lay in her lap, her dark, curly head rested in the depths of
her arm-chair.The golden-green depths of
the beech-wood were growing dusky.Against the terrace masses of salvia
and geraniums glowed like coals on fire.The brown-eyed girl had been
away with him a long while.Courland came in, looking more youthful and pretty than ever, and
seated herself with her knitting.The very last ray from the sinking sun
fell on her ruddy hair."Think you are right, Harry," she said quietly to Darrel."I think we
will sail when you do.The men on the place are becoming very much
excited over this Uhlan raid on the cattle.I could hear them from my
bedroom window out by the winter fold, and they were talking loudly as
well as recklessly.""There's no telling what these forest people may do," admitted Darrel."I am immensely relieved to know that you and Valentine are to sail when
I do.As for Kervyn Guild--" he made a hopeless gesture--"his mind is
made up and that always settles it with him."You see his people were Belgian some generations back.It's a
matter of honour with him and argument is wasted."He is as straight and square as he is delightful.His mother is
charming; his younger brother is everything you'd expect him to be after
knowing Kervyn.Theirs is a very united family, but, do you know I am as
certain as I am of anything that his mother absolutely approves of what
he is about to do.It may kill her, but she'll die
smiling."Courland's serious, sweet eyes rested on him, solemn with sympathy
for the mother she had never met."The horrid thing about it all," continued Darrel, "is that Kervyn is
one man in a million;--and in a more terrible sense that is all he can
be in this frightful and endless slaughter which they no longer even
pretend to call one battle or many."He's a drop in an ocean, only another cipher in the trenches where
hell's hail rains day and night, day and night, beating out lives
without distinction, without the intelligence of choice--just raining,
raining, and beating out life!...I can scarcely endure the thought of
Kervyn ending that way--such a man--my friend----"
His voice seemed hoarse and he got up abruptly and walked to the window.Ashes of roses lingered in the west; the forest was calm; not a leaf
stirred in the lilac-tinted dusk.Karen, who had been listening, stirred in the depths of her chair and
clasped her fingers over her sewing.Courland said quietly:
"It is pleasant for any woman to have known such a man as Mr."If the charm of his personality so impresses us who have known him only
a very little while, I am thinking what those who are near and dear to
him must feel.""I, too," said Karen, faintly."Yet she loves him best who would not have it otherwise it seems.""Yes; he must go," said Karen."Some could not have it--otherwise."And a little while after they were
lighted Mrs.One swift,
clear glance she gave; saw in the young girl's eyes what she had already
divined must be there.After a
while she sighed, very lightly."They're late," remarked Darrel from the window."They are probably strolling up the drive; Valentine knows enough not to
get lost," said her mother.After a few moments Karen said: "Would my playing disturb you?"Presently Darrel turned and
seated himself to listen to the deathless sanity of Beethoven flowing
from the keys under a young girl's slender fingers.She was still seated there when Valentine came in, and turned her head
from the keyboard, stilling the soft chords."We had such a good time," said Valentine."We caught half a dozen
trout, and then I took him to the Pulpit where we sat down and remained
very quiet; and just at sunset three boar came out to feed on the oak
mast; and he said that one of them was worth shooting!""You evidently _have_ had a good time," said Darrel, smiling."I think he'd be more likely to tree the boar," remarked the girl.And
to her mother she said: "He went on toward the winter fold to talk to
Michaud who has just returned from Trois Fontaines.There were a lot of
men there, ours and a number of strangers.So I left him to talk to
Michaud.turning to Karen,
and from her, involuntarily to Darrel.Daniel went back to the garden."Miss Girard and I have conversed philosophically and satisfactorily
concerning everything on earth," he said."I wish my conversations with
you were half as satisfactory."Valentine laughed, but there was a slight flush on her cheeks, and again
she glanced at Karen, whose lovely profile only was visible where she
bent in silence above the keyboard."Your mother," remarked Darrel, "has decided to sail with me.Would you
condescend to join us, Valentine?""Mother, are you really going back when Harry sails?"I don't quite like the attitude of the men here.And Harry thinks
there is very likely to be trouble between them and the Germans across
the border."The girl looked thoughtfully at her mother, then at Darrel, rather
anxiously."Mother," she said, "I think it is a good idea to get Harry out of the
country.He is very bad-tempered, and if the Germans come here and are
impudent to us he'll certainly get himself shot!"I haven't the courage of a caterpillar!""You're the worst fibber in the Ardennes!You _did_ kill that grey boar
this morning!What do you mean by telling us that you went up a tree!Maxl, the garde-de-chasse at the Silverwiltz gate, heard your shot and
came up.And you told him to dress the boar and send a cart for it.Which he did!--you senseless prevaricator!""And you're wearing a bandage below your knee where the boar bit you
when you gave him the coup-de-grace!John moved to the hallway."Maxl was stringing you, fair maid," he said lightly."Laziness and gout account for that debutante slouch of mine.But of
course if you care to hold my hand----"
The girl looked at him, vexed, yet laughing:
"I don't _want_ people who do not know you to think you really are the
dub you pretend to be!Do you wish Miss Girard to believe it?""Truth is mighty and must----"
"I know more about you than you think I do, Harry.Guild portrayed
for me a few instances of your'mouse'-like courage.And I don't wish
you to lose your temper and be shot if the Uhlans ride into Lesse and
insult us all!"You frighten me," he said; "I think I'll ask Jean to pack my things
now."And he got up, limping, and started for the door."Mother," she said, "that boar's tusks may poison |
garden | Where is Daniel? | Won't you make
him let us bandage it properly?""I think you had better, Harry," said Mrs."Oh, no; it's all right----"
"Harry!""Take his other arm, mother," said the girl with decision.She looked over her shoulder at Karen; the two young girls exchanged a
smile; then Valentine marched off with her colossal liar.CHAPTER XX
BEFORE DINNER
Michaud, head forester, had taken off his grey felt hat respectfully
when Valentine introduced him to Guild, there in the lantern light of
the winter sheep fold.A dozen or more men standing near by in shadowy
groups had silently uncovered at the same time.Two wise-looking sheep
dogs, squatted on their haunches, looked at him.Then the girl had left Guild there and returned to the house."I should like to have a few moments quiet conversation with you," said
Guild; and the stalwart, white-haired forester stepped quietly aside
with him, following the younger man until they were out of earshot of
those gathered by the barred gate of the fold."_De Trois Fontaines, monsieur._"
It was a characteristic reply.A Belgian does not call himself a
Belgian.Always he designates his nationality by naming his
birthplace--as though the world must know that it is in Belgium."And those people over there by the sheep fold?""Our men--some of them--from Ixl, from the Black Erenz and the White,
from Lesse--one from Liege.It is mostly that way in Moresnet.""In Moresnet ten per cent of the people are Germans in sympathy,"
remarked Guild."Yes, Monsieur," said the honest forester, simply.Guild laid one hand on the man's broad shoulder:
"Michaud," he said quietly, "I know I am among friends if you say I am.Daniel journeyed to the office.The dark eyes of the tall forester seemed to emit a sudden sparkle in
the dusk."Michaud, my name, in America is Guild.My name in Belgian is Kervyn
Gueldres.Judge, then, whether I am a friend to your country and your
king.""Kervyn of Gueldres, Comte
d'Yvoir, Hastiere----"
"It is so written on the rolls of the Guides.""Monsieur le Comte has served!"Do you feel
safe to trust me now, Michaud, my friend?"Mary went back to the garden."Put on your hat," said Guild, bluntly, "I am American when I deal with
men!""Monsieur le Comte----"
"'Monsieur' will do.Now tell me very clearly exactly what
happened this morning on the hill meadows of the Paillard estate.""Monsieur le----"
"Please remember!"Monsieur Guild, the Grey Uhlans rode over the border and
laughed at the gendarme on duty.Straight they made for our hill
meadows, riding at ease and putting their horses to the hedges.Schultz,
our herdsman, saw them trotting like wolves of the Black Erenz, ran to
the wooden fence to close the gate, but their lances rattling on the
pickets frightened him."They herded the cattle while their officers sat looking on by the
summer fold."'Do not these cattle and sheep belong to the Paillard estate?'says he; 'we are
liquidating an old account with Monsieur Paillard!'"And with that a company of the Grey Ones canters away across the valley
and up the <DW72> beyond where our shepherd, Jean Pascal, is sitting with
his two dogs.'Send out your dogs and herd your
sheep!'And, when he only gapes at them, one of their riders wheels on
him, twirling his lance and shoves him with the counter-balance."So they make him drive his flock for them across the valley, and then
over the border--all the way on foot, Monsieur; and then they tell him
to loiter no more but to go about his business."That is what has happened on our hill pasture.Daniel went back to the garden.He, the lad, Pascal, is
over there with his dogs"--pointing toward the fold--"almost crazed with
grief and shame.And, Schultz, he wishes us to organize as a
franc-corps.I don't know what to do--what with Monsieur Paillard
away, and the forests in my care.Were it not for my responsibility----"
"I know, Michaud.But what could an isolated franc-corps do?Far better
to join your class if you can--when your responsibility here permits.Those young men, there, should try to do the same."Even the classes of 1915, '16, and '17 have been
called.But this outrage on the hill pastures has
inflamed them and made hot-heads of everybody.They wish to take their
guns and hunt Grey Uhlans.I
saw something of that in '70.Why the Prussians hung or shot every
franc-tireur they caught; and invariably the nearest village was burned.And I say to them that even if Monsieur Paillard is dead, as many are
beginning to believe, his death does not alter our responsibility.Why
should we bring reprisals upon his roof, his fields, his forests?But if we are now really convinced of his
death, as soon as Madame Courland leaves, let us turn over the estate to
the proper authorities in Luxembourg.Then will each and all of us be
free to join the colours when summoned--if God will only show us how to
do it.""Madame Courland and mademoiselle ought to go tomorrow," said Guild."One or another of your hotheads over there might get us into trouble
this very night.""The man from Moresnet talks loudest.I have tried to reason with him,"
said Michaud."Would you come to the fold with me?"They walked together toward the lantern light; the men standing there
turned toward them and ceased their excited conversation."Friends," said old Michaud simply, "this gentleman's name is Kervyn of
Gueldres.I think that is sufficient for any Belgian, or for any man
from the Grand Duchy?""Monsieur, who has become
an American, desires to be known as Monsieur Guild without further mark
of respect.This also is sufficient for us all, I suppose.Jean
Pascal, cease thy complaints and stand straight and wipe thy tears.By
God, I think there are other considerations in Lesse Forest than the
loss of thy sheep and of Schultz's cattle!"blubbered the boy, "I was too cowardly to defend
them----"
"Be quiet," said Guild."It was not a question of your courage!"But I shall go after Uhlans now with my fusil-de-chasse!Ah, the brigands----"
"Cowards!"Grey wolves run when a man
goes after them----"
"You are wrong," said Guild quietly.If they
were there would be no credit for us in fighting them.Don't make any
mistake you men of the Ardennes; their soldiers are as brave as any
soldiers.And where you belong is with your colours, with your classes,
and in uniform.That's where I also belong; that's where I am going if I
can find out how to go.Keep cool, and listen to Michaud, who is older and wiser than all of
us."Then a voice from the darkness, very
distinct:
"I have seen red.It is necessary for me to bleed an Uhlan!"Guild walked toward the sound of the voice: "Who are you?"John moved to the hallway."_Moi, je suis de Moresnet!_"
"Then you'd better go back to the zinc mines of Moresnet, my friend.No
Uhlans will trouble you down there."And, aside to Michaud: "Look out for that young man from Moresnet.He's
too hotly a Belgian to suit my taste.""Monsieur, he is a talker," said Michael with a shrug."My friend, be careful that he is nothing more dangerous."exclaimed the forester, reddening to his white
temples--"if any of that species had the temerity to come among us!----"
"Michaud, they might even be among the King's own entourage.... No doubt
that fellow is merely, as you say, a talker.But--he should not be left
to wander about the woods _alone_.And, tell me, is there anybody else
you know of who might do something rash tonight along the boundary?""Monsieur--there are two or three poor devils who escaped the firing
squads at Yslemont.Guild said in a troubled voice: "Such charity is an obligation.But
nevertheless it is a peril and a menace to us all.""Were this estate my own," said the sturdy forester, "I would shelter
them as long as they desired to remain.But I am responsible to Monsieur
Paillard, and to his tenant, Madame Courland.Therefore I have asked
these poor refugees to continue on to Diekirch or to Luxembourg where
the sight of an Uhlan's schapska will be no temptation to them."He held out his hand; the forester grasped it.Our duty is to join the colours, not
to prowl through the woods assassinating Uhlans."And both of us at the service of the bravest man in Europe--Albert, the
King!"And, as they stood there in silence under the
stars, from far away across the misty sea of trees came the sound of a
gun-shot."I don't know, Monsieur.Perhaps
a garde-de-chasse at Trois Fontaines."They continued to listen for a while, but no other sound broke the
starry silence.And finally Guild turned away with a slight gesture, and
walked slowly back to the Lodge.Lights from the tall windows made brilliant patches and patterns across
terrace and grass and flowers; the front door was open and the pleasant
ruddy lamp-light streamed out.Valentine passing and mounting the stairs caught sight of him and waved
her hand in friendly salute.John travelled to the bathroom."We're sterilizing Harry's shins--mother and I. The foolish boy was
rather badly tusked.""Perfectly, and bored to death by our fussing."She ran on up the stairs, paused again: "We're not dressing for dinner,"
she called down to him, and vanished.glanced at the hall clock, and sauntered on
into the big living-room so unmistakably American in its brightness and
comfort.But it was not until he had dropped back into the friendly embrace of a
stuffed arm-chair that he was aware of Karen curled up in the depths of
another, sewing."I didn't know you were here," he said coolly."Have you had an
agreeable afternoon?""Miss Courland and I had a wonderful walk.We had no trouble in taking
all the trout we needed for dinner, and then we went to a rock called
The Pulpit, where we lay very still and talked only in whispers until
three wild boars came out to feed."They seemed unusually dark to
him, almost purple."After that," he went on, "we walked back along the main ride to a
carrefour where the drive crosses; and so back here.He added, smiling carelessly: "May I ask you to account
for yours?""Very well, then I do ask it."She bent over her sewing again: "I have been idle.I went for a little stroll alone and found an old wall and a
pool and a rose garden."Mary moved to the kitchen.I sat there sewing and--thinking----"
"About what?"He said steadily enough: "Were your thoughts pleasant?""Yes.... I remembered that you are joining your regiment.""But that should not be an unpleasant thought for you, Karen."It could not be otherwise under the
circumstances.""It could not be otherwise," he said pleasantly; but his grey eyes never
left the pale, sweet profile bent above the leisurely moving needle."I know you understand _that_--at least, Karen."Other matters, too--a little better than I did--this morning."But his heart was threatening to
meddle with his voice; and he set his lips sternly and touched his short
mustache with careless fingers.The light was perfectly good,
however."What," he asked again, "are the matters which you now understand better
than you did this morning?"He laughed: "Do you think you understand love?"You are not in love, are you, Karen?"She turned swiftly in the depths of her chair to confront him as
he sprang to his feet.she managed to say; and remained silent, one slim hand against
her breast.And, after a moment: "Would you not come any nearer,
please.""Karen----"
"Not now, please.... Sit there where you were.... I can tell you
better--all I know--about it."She bent again over her needle, sewing half blindly, the hurrying pulses
making her hand unsteady.After he was seated she turned her head partly
around for a moment, looking at him with a fascinated and almost
breathless curiosity."If I tell you, you will come no nearer; will you?"She sewed for a while at random, not conscious what her fingers were
doing, striving to think clearly in the menace of these new emotions,
the power of which she was divining now, realizing more deeply every
second."I'll try to tell you," she said: "I didn't know anything--about
myself--this morning.What we had been to each other I considered
friendship.Remember it was my first friendship with a man.And--I
thought it _was_ that."After a silence: "Was it anything deeper?""Yes, deeper.... You frightened me at first.... I was hurt.... But not
ashamed or angry.And I did not understand why.... Until you spoke and
said--what you said.""Yes.... After that things grew slowly clearer to me.I don't know what
I said to you--half the things I said on the way back--only that I made
you angry--and I continued, knowing that you were angry and that I--I
was almost laughing--I don't know why--only that I needed time to try to
think.... You can't understand, can you?"She looked up, then bowed her head once more."That is all," she said under her breath."Only that--after you had gone away this afternoon I began to be a
little in love.""May I tell you that I love you?"His clasped hands tightened on his knees; he said in a low unsteady
voice: "All my heart is yours, Karen--all there is in me of love and
loyalty, honour and devotion, is yours.Into my mind there is no thought
that comes which is not devoted to you or influenced by my adoration of
you.I love you--every word you utter, every breath you draw, every
thought you think I love.The most wonderful thing in the world would be
that you should love me; the greatest miracle that you might marry me."That you will grow to really love me?"In the tremulous silence she turned again and looked at him, bending
very low over her work."Will you be gentle with me, Kervyn?""Dearest----"
"I mean--considerate--at first.... There is a great deal I don't know
about men--and being in love with one of them.... Brought up as I have
been, I could not understand that you should take me--in your arms.... I
was not angry--not even ashamed.... Only, never having thought of
it--and taking it for granted that, among people of your caste and mine,
to touch a man's lips was an act--of betrothal--perhaps of marriage----"
"Dearest, it _was_!"But for a while I
felt--strangely--overwhelmed.... You can understand--having no
mother--and suddenly face to face with--you----"
She leaned her cheek against the back of the chair and rested so, her
small white hands folded over her sewing."I have yet to see Baron Kurt," she said half to herself."I shall say
to him that I care for you.After that--when you come back, and if you
wish me to marry you--ask me."He stood up: "How near may I come to you, Karen?""Not _very_ near--just now.""Near enough to kiss your finger-tip."Without turning her |
bedroom | Where is Sandra? | Daniel journeyed to the office."After dinner," she said, "I shall show you the roses in the garden.""They are no sweeter than your hand, Karen."She smiled, her flushed cheek still resting against the cushions."It is very wonderful, very gentle after all," she murmured to herself."I meant love," she said, dreamily.CHAPTER XXI
SNIPERS
Dinner was ended.Darrel lay on a lounge in the sitting-room, a victim
against his will to romance.Beside him on a low footstool sat
Valentine, reading aloud to him when she thought he ought to be read to,
fussing with his pillows when she chose to fuss, taking his cigarette
from his lips and inserting a thermometer at intervals, and always
calmly indifferent to his protests or to her mother's laughter.For she had heard somewhere that a wild boar's teeth poisoned like a
lion's mauling; and the sudden revelation of a hero under the shattered
shell of modesty and self-depreciation which so long obscured the
romantic qualities in this young man determined her to make him continue
to play a role which every girl adores--the role of the stricken brave.Never again could Darrel explain to her how timidity, caution, and a
native and unfeigned stupidity invariably characterized his behaviour at
psychological moments.Mary went back to the garden.For Guild had told her all about this young man's cool resourcefulness
and almost nerveless courage during those hair-raising days in Sonora
when the great Yo Espero ranch was besieged, and every American prisoner
taken was always reported "Shot in attempting to escape."She had never even known that Darrel had been in Mexico until Guild told
her about their joint mining enterprise and how, under a spineless
Administration, disaster had wiped out their property, and had nearly
done the same for them."Mother," said the girl, "I think I'll look at his shin again."protested Darrel, struggling to sit up, and being checked by
a soft but firm little hand flat against his chest."I don't want to have my shin looked at," he repeated helplessly."Mother, I am going to change the dressing."For the love of Mike----"
"Be quiet, Harry!""Then make Guild go out of the room!Karen was laughing, too, and now she turned to Guild: "Come," she said,
smilingly; "we are not welcome here.Also I do want you to see the rose
garden by star-light."Courland, naively: "May we please be
excused to see your lovely garden?"The pretty young matron smiled and nodded, busy with the box of
first-aid bandages for which Valentine was now waiting.So Karen and Guild went out together into the star-light, across the
terrace and lawns and down along a dim avenue of beeches.The night was aromatic with the clean sweet odour of the forest; a few
leaves had fallen, merely a tracery of delicate burnt-gold under foot.Karen turned to the right between tall clipped hedges.Mossy steps of stone terminated the alley and led down into an old
sunken garden with wall and pool and ghostly benches of stone, and its
thousands of roses perfuming the still air.They were all there, the heavenly company, dimly tinted in crimson,
pink, and gold--Rose de Provence, Gloire de Dijon, Damask, Turkish,
Cloth of Gold--exquisite ghosts of their ardent selves--immobile
phantoms, mystic, celestial, under the high lustre of the stars.Daniel went back to the garden.Mirror-dark, the round pool's glass reflected a silvery inlay of the
constellations; tall trees bordered the wall, solemn, unstirring, as
though ranged there for some midnight rite.The thin and throbbing
repetition of hidden insects were the only sounds in that still and
scented place.They leaned upon the balustrade of stone and looked down into the garden
for a while.She stirred first, turning a little way toward him.And
together they descended the steps and walked to the pool's rim.Once, while they stood there, she moved away from his side and strolled
away among the roses, roaming at random, pausing here and there to bend
and touch with her face some newly opened bud.Slender and shadowy she lingered among the unclosing miracles of rose
and gold, straying, loitering, wandering on, until again she found
herself beside the pool of mirror black--and beside her lover."Your magic garden is all you promised," he said in a low voice--"very
wonderful, very youthful in its ancient setting of tree and silvered
stone.And now the young enchantress is here among her own; and the
spell of her fills all the world.""You, Karen, matchless enchantress, sorceress incomparable who has
touched with her wand the old-familiar world and made of it a paradise.""Because I said I loved you--a little--has it become a paradise?You
know I only said '_a little_.'""Of course," she added with a slight sigh, "it has become more, now,
since I first said that to you.I shouldn't call it 'a little,' now; I
should call it----" She hesitated."Yes, I think it is becoming'much'--little by
little.""And clasp your waist--very lightly--_this_ way?"She looked up at him out of the stillest, purest eyes he had ever
beheld."You know best, Kervyn, what we may do.""I know," he said, drawing her nearer.After a moment she rested her cheek against his shoulder.Standing so beside the pool, breathing the incense of the roses, she
thought of the dream, and the gay challenge, "Who goes there?"She was
beginning to suspect the answer, now.It was Love who had halted her on
that flower-set frontier; the password, which she had not known then,
was "Love."Love had laughed at her but had granted her right of way
across that border into the Land of Dreams.And now, unchallenged, save
by her own heart, she had come once more to the borderland of flowers.[Illustration: "Standing so beside the pool, breathing the incense of
the roses, she thought of the dream"]
"Halt!"said her heart, alert; "who goes there?""It is I, Karen, wearing the strange, new name of Love----"
She lifted her head, drew one hand swiftly across her eyes as though to
clear them, then stepped free from the arm that encircled her."Karen----"
"Yes, I--I do love you," she stammered--"with all--all my heart----"
"_Halt!_" rang out a voice like a pistol shot from the darkness.The girl stood rigid; Guild sprang to her side.If
commander there was, he must have been the commander; and "that there
was, all nature cries aloud."Since the world began, in all history or
natural history, there never was a battle known without a commander.John moved to the hallway.It is the instinct of all animated nature, insect, animal, or man;
from the bee to the buffalo, from the Indian savage to Gen.Milton's battles of the angels were fought under Michael and Satan as
the commanders.Our next incontrovertible proof that Putnam was the commander is
founded on the fact, that the army at Cambridge was regularly organized
and consolidated under Ward, Warren, Putnam, and other officers in
regular gradation, without any distinction in regard to the colonies
whence the troops came.The author acknowledges, if this was the fact,
that Putnam was the commander; we take him at his word, and will make
this so clear, that he who runs may read.The question is one of fact
only, as regards both the army and Gen.Putnam; whether the army was,
in fact, a consolidated and organized body, and whether Putnam was
commander of the battle _de facto_.Whether all this was technically
legal and constitutional is a question as abstract and useless as
that other of the author's, whether Putnam had any right to command
Prescott; and more hopeless: it is almost on a par with that of free
agency, or the origin of evil.It would be as preposterous to deny that
Putnam was the commander, even if the army was not a legal one, as for
British historians to have denied that Washington was the commander in
the battles he fought, because they said he was not a legal commander,
and Gen.Howe said he was no General, only Mr.John travelled to the bathroom.&c.; though he found
to his sorrow, that Washington and Putnam both were generals, and
out-generalled him,--Putnam at Bunker Hill, and Washington ever
afterwards.There is poor encouragement for any one to enter into this
question of the legality of the organization of the army, when Pres.Mary moved to the kitchen.and Judge Tudor failed under it so egregiously.They both
jumped into this quickset hedge, and the author shuts his eyes and
follows them.Adams doubts whether any one was
authorized to command the troops of all the colonies; and whether any
one, except the old militia Gen.Pomeroy, a volunteer with no command
over an individual in Cambridge, had a right to command the troops of
Massachusetts.The author is positive
that the army was one of allies only, and Putnam a mere volunteer.Putnam was no more a volunteer than the whole army at Cambridge was
a volunteer army, or than the governments of the colonies who sent
the troops there were volunteer governments; and they were in fact
mere governments _de facto_, without constitutions, or conventions
to form any.New Hampshire, rather the worst off in this respect,
had two separate governments,--the royal, under the very popular and
conciliatory Gov.Wentworth; and the rebel, under a convention; and
both were in operation for a month after the battle.But just as much
legality and constitutionality as there was in these governments, so
much there was in the consolidation and organization of the army under
Gen.The facts were perfectly well known to all three of the
colonies, and their tacit consent and approbation was as binding on
them as if it was expressed by their regular enactments enrolled and
recorded.The author omits, in his extracts from Adams's letter, far the most
interesting and important part of it, as it regards the subject, and
especially Putnam's claims.Adams thinks his objections to the legality
of the army extend to it, and to Washington, when he took command.Daniel travelled to the bathroom.Now,
this fortunately gives us the conclusive authority of Washington, to
show that all these legal subtleties are of no practical importance.Adams doubts whether the army was sufficiently organized to authorize
Washington to try by courts-martial the delinquents in the battle.But Washington did not hesitate a moment to cut this Gordian knot.He brought Mansfield, Gerrish, Scammans, and all other delinquents,
before courts-martial; and made Gen.Greene, of Rhode Island, the
president of them, as if for the express purpose of declaring his
opinion, that this colonial question did not affect in the slightest
degree the organization of the army, or the authority and liabilities
of the officers.Our author labors to make out an argument against
Putnam's command, by showing that there was more legality and intimacy
in the connection of the New Hampshire troops with the rest of the
army, than in that of the troops from Connecticut.So complete was the
union of the Connecticut troops with the rest of the army, that Putnam
could not obtain Ward's permission to take the Connecticut regiment
to Charlestown the night before the battle, though he strenuously
urged it.The most he could obtain was two hundred of them; and they
were placed under the command of Prescott, who had likewise a company
from New Hampshire (Capt.Could any thing
be more conclusive as to the consolidation of the army?We have the
pay-rolls of New Hampshire to prove, that her troops were adopted and
paid by her from the first moment they went to Cambridge.On the side
of Connecticut this union was not only expressed by the manner in which
their officers were detailed for duty by Ward; but he placed under the
immediate command of Putnam, Patterson's Massachusetts and Sargent's
New Hampshire regiments, in addition to one from Connecticut, at
Inman's Farm, the most exposed and important outpost of the army.[7]
And the very important action was fought, and the victory achieved,
under the command of Putnam, the 27th of May, at Chelsea.On the 13th
May, all the troops at Cambridge marched under the command of Putnam to
Charlestown, and defied the enemy under the very muzzles of their guns.Trumbull from Cambridge, 27th
April: "Gen.Putnam is commander-in-chief
at this place."Now, how is it conceivable, that the author, after
narrating these three striking cases of Putnam's command over all
the troops, and after this overwhelming evidence of the complete
coalescence of these troops, should a few days after, when Putnam
appears again with the army at Bunker Hill, turn to the right about
face, like lightning, and deny that he could possibly command, because
it was an army of allies?The organization of the army at Cambridge, just before the battle,
was as follows: Two full regiments, under Stark and Reid, and another
small one under Sargent, from New Hampshire, and one full regiment
from Connecticut under Lieut.-Col.Storrs, immediately after the
battle of Lexington, about two months before that of Bunker Hill,
came to Cambridge, and voluntarily united themselves with the army
under Major-Gen.All these troops previous to the battle, as
we stated in our history of it, in the very words, we believe, of
Gov.Sandra journeyed to the bedroom.Brooks, of Ward's army), were regularly organized
and consolidated, and the routine and operations of a regular army
were performed by them precisely as though they had been all of one
province.Ward's orderly book will
put this beyond dispute:--April 22, he orders Col.Stark to march to
Chelsea with three hundred men.M'Clary, of the
same regiment, to keep a vigilant look-out as far as Winter Hill.Storrs is officer of the main guard.Durkee Connecticut troops are made repeatedly; and, on the 12th of
June, Ward orders a court-martial with Col.Frye, president, and
other officers of Massachusetts, united with Coit and Keyes, and Jos.Trumbull, judge advocate, all of Connecticut.Here, then, we have a
demonstration, as clear as were it mathematical, of the complete union
and coalition of the whole army, not only with their own consent, but
with the sanction and approbation of their several provinces, to whom
all this was known.But allow the gentleman, as in regard to Callender,
to manufacture his own case, grossly regardless of all known facts.Allow that these New England provinces, who had always lived like
brothers under one general government, should, when their object,
danger, and enemy were one, be so discordant and repulsive, that each
provincial corps, even in battle, must be insulated, he would not be
one step nearer to his object.Is it possible he is ignorant that
allies, as he calls them, when in military detachments, must be under
the command of the oldest allied officer, who ranks the rest?This is
so perfectly settled, that it would be burning daylight to prove it.We have thus proved a second time, from the nature of the army, and
the rank of Putnam, according to the author's own acknowledgment,
that Putnam was the commander of the battle.We now proceed to prove
it a third and fourth time, by his conduct in the battle, and the
evidence in the case.Our troops were well fed at Cambridge, through
contributions from the New England towns, who thought, with the old
general, that men fought best on full stomachs: but, after waiting two
months, they grew impatient for fighting; and Putnam's whole soul was
with them.Notwithstanding Ward's prudence, Putnam persuaded him at
last to grant him two thousand men to meet the enemy.The heights of
Charlestown were carefully reconnoitred by Putnam, fascines and empty
casks were prepared for intrenchments, and all the intrenching tools
far and near were collected; but enough only could be found for one
thousand men, and Prescott's detachment was limited to that number
from necessity; but they were |
office | Where is Sandra? | The still more important preparation of
gunpowder was anxiously attempted, though nearly in vain.During the
turmoil of the day of battle, Putnam called on the Committee of Safety
to receipt for eighteen barrels of powder from Connecticut.He went on
to Breed's Hill the night before the battle, and assisted in laying
out the intrenchments.[8] He likewise took his small soldiers' tent
on to the ground, and Capt.This shows a
"foregone conclusion," that he was to be indissolubly connected with
the expedition, and all its consequences.But, what was still more in
the spirit of the man, he prepared for himself a relay of horses for
the battle; and nothing more difficult: even Col.Prescott could not
find one for Maj.Brooks to ride to Cambridge, though he endeavored
to press one from the artillery.Putnam was the only officer mounted
in the battle, unless Maj.Durkee was part of the time, as one of
the documents relates.Durkee had been his intimate associate in the
previous war, as he was through that of the Revolution.By daylight on
the morning of the battle, Putnam sent to Gen.Ward for a horse, and
procured another himself; he seemed to consider this as important as
Richard did, when he exclaims, "My kingdom for a horse."He went to
Breed's Hill the night before the battle; and this he did under the
express agreement with Gen.Ward that he was to do so, and to have the
direction and superintendence of the whole expedition.For the minute
detail of Putnam's conduct relative to the battle and connection with
it, we refer to our history and notes.The well-known, honorable, and
intelligent Col.Putnam, son of the general, who observes he was with
the army at the time of the battle, and afterwards an officer under
his father till near the close of the war, and during his whole life
frequently conversed on the subject of the battle with his father and
all others, wrote a memoir, which he communicated to the Monument
Association.Putnam, he says, early urged Ward to have the heights of
Charlestown fortified, who, with Warren, objected the want of powder
and battering cannon.Daniel journeyed to the office.Ward hoped for peace and reconciliation with the
enemy, and wished to continue on the defensive.Putnam said we should
gain peace only by the sword, and he wished only to draw out the enemy
so as to meet them on equal terms.He frequently reconnoitred the
heights; and, just before the battle, Ward agreed to put two thousand
men under him to form intrenchments and defend them.General Putnam
went with half this force to Breed's Hill the night of the 16th,
repairing at dawn to Cambridge for the other thousand to relieve the
fatigue-party; but the cannonade of the enemy called him instantly
back.Brooks went on to the ground with Gen.Putnam, and was
present whilst he assisted in laying out the works.Trumbull,
with the army at the time, says the detachment went under the command
of Gen.Judge Grosvenor, an officer of the
army at the time, and in the detachment, says "Putnam was with them;
and, under his immediate superintendence, ground was broken and the
redoubt formed; and that he commanded the troops engaged afterwards."Stiles, of New Haven College, recorded in his Diary, that
Putnam took possession of Bunker Hill the night of the 16th.Dwight, of the same college, says Putnam was the commander of the
battle.Whitney, the pastor and most intimate friend of Gen.Putnam's own declaration to him, that
the detachment was at first put under his command, and that with
it he took possession of the hill, and ordered the battle from the
beginning to the end."These facts," he says, "Gen.Putnam himself
gave me soon after the battle, and also repeated them to me after his
life [by Humphreys] was printed."Mary went back to the garden.Whitney
to his funeral discourse on Gen.Putnam, 1790, and repeated in his
letter, 1818.Putnam, in his letter to me, confirms Dr.Whitney's
declarations as to his father's assertions.Frothingham thinks they
may have mistaken the general's meaning.Putnam's reasons for
his accurate recollections, we have given.Whitney says, "Soon
after Bunker Hill Battle, I was at Cambridge some weeks chaplain to
Gen.Putnam's regiment, resided in his family, and had peculiarly
favorable opportunities of learning, from him and others, in detail,
the things which took place in the battle from its beginning to its
end."Aaron Dexter says, from memoranda written at the time, that
he was informed by the officers at Ward's quarters the day after the
battle, that Putnam had command of all the troops that were sent
down over-night, and that might be ordered there the next day.Bancroft, the distinguished captain in the redoubt, says he was at
the laying-out of the works by Putnam, and that the rail breastwork
was formed and lined under the direction of Putnam.of Boston, who was aide-de-camp to Gov.Hancock, in the expedition
to Rhode Island, writes in his Diary, 16th June, 1775: "Gen.Putnam,
with a detachment of about one thousand of the American forces, went
from Cambridge, and began an intrenchment on an eminence below Bunker
Hill."Samuel Ward, of Rhode Island, then a captain in the army
at Roxbury, writes, 20th June: "Putnam had a sore battle on Saturday."Ward, "We hear that Putnam is defeated,
and Dr.The most astonishing inadvertence of the author,
though mere inadvertence we believe, is his publishing two pages out
of Rivington's Gazette of 3d August, 1775, and never hinting, that
in the same paper of 29th June, 1775, it is stated that "Putnam on
the evening of the 16th inst.took possession of Bunker Hill, and
began an intrenchment;" and this extract from Rivington was mentioned
in a publication of ours, which he had among our documents.Josiah
Cleveland's[9] deposition says he was of Putnam's regiment; went on
the night of the 16th, Putnam at their head, who with others directed
the works, and ordered the Connecticut and some Massachusetts troops
to make the breastwork at the rail-fence.Abner Allen,[10] of the
same regiment, in his deposition, says he went on the night before
the battle; Putnam was then and there called general, and acted as
such.Major Daniel Jackson, 16th June, 1775, then a sergeant in the
artillery, entered in his Diary, "Gen.Putnam with the army went to
intrench on Bunker Hill."Daniel went back to the garden.Trevett, senior captain of the artillery, the
day of the battle, inquired officially of Maj.Gridley, then in command
of all the artillery at Cambridge, and whose father was inferior to no
one in the councils of war, "Who had the command of the troops?"and
was informed by him, "Gen."Then there is nothing to fear," he
observed at the time.He consequently applied to Putnam for orders, and
received them.We have mentioned Putnam's command over three regiments
from different provinces; and that, while "Gen.Putnam was commander-in-chief" at Cambridge.Dearborn,[11]
who was in the battle, represents Putnam as the authorized commander.Thaxter, of Edgarton, who, in
his letter A.D.John moved to the hallway.1818, says, "On the evening of the 16th June, Col.Bridge, with their regiments, under the direction of
Gen.Putnam, took possession of Breed's Hill, and threw up a fort or
intrenchment."We have looked in vain into the author's book for the
name of Thaxter, that most venerable and interesting old man eloquent,
and minister of the Most High, who, at the time of the battle, was
chaplain in the army, and, while the battle raged, was wrestling with
the Lord in prayer for victory; and, in 1825, with head as white
and heart as unsullied as the driven snow, appeared again on the
battle-field at the jubilee, and laying of the corner-stone for the
monument, to bear up to the throne of grace the thanks of the hundred
thousand who were present, for the very success that he had prayed for
in '75.The author has devoted twenty-two pages to this jubilee and
monument, without one syllable to spare for the patriotism, eloquence,
and unction of this most interesting relic of olden time, or for the
mention of any religious service whatsoever on the occasion.He dwells
on Webster's eloquent address to the sovereign people, without the
slightest notice of any address to the Sovereign of the universe.The
neglect of all religious service on the occasion will be considered,
by all those who give credit to the author's history, as a serious
imputation on our national character.All this perfectly decisive testimony of Putnam's command is fully
confirmed by the whole of his conduct during the day after he left Gen.Ward at dawn, who promised to send on a reinforcement.The breastwork
at the rail-fence was built under Putnam's orders by the Connecticut
and a few Massachusetts troops, though Frothingham does not give him
the credit of it.He acknowledges it was built by Knowlton and the
troops under him, and that Judge Grosvenor says Gen.John travelled to the bathroom.Keyes, then lieutenant in Grosvenor's company,
says the same.Putnam's memoir states that his father placed
them there, and ordered them to make the best preparation in their
power for defence.Josiah Cleveland,[12] as
mentioned before, and Messrs.Aaron Smith[13] and William Low,[14] all
of them present and in the battle, say expressly Putnam built it; and
Low adds, Putnam took a rail on his shoulder, and ordered every man
to do the same and build the breastwork.Greater service than this
was never performed by Putnam for his country, nor greater service
by him or any one at Bunker Hill.There were ingenuity, knowledge of
position, and generalship in it, that have secured for him immortal
honor, and the warmest gratitude of all his countrymen to the latest
posterity.Without this defence, the overwhelming force of the enemy
would have flanked, surrounded, and vanquished our ill-equipped troops
instantly.There was scarcely a regiment, corps, or individual of the
army, that Putnam did not personally command, direct, or encourage.The reinforcements not arriving, he galloped back to Ward's quarters
to obtain them.He ordered Doolittle's regiment[15] to go on at nine
o'clock; ordered Stark's regiment to the lines, and reserved a part
of it to intrench on Bunker Hill; led on Woodbridge's and Brewer's
regiments; ordered Gardner's to build intrenchments on Bunker Hill; he
ordered the companies of Little's regiment to their posts; and Ford's
company of Bridge's regiment he ordered to draw Callender's deserted
cannon to the line.Ford, though no submissive man, obeyed with the
greatest reluctance, his company being infantry, and Putnam fired the
pieces himself; some of the soldiers exclaiming that he made a lane,
others a furrow, through the enemy.He beat, cut, and thrust with his
sword a number of the soldiers who were backward and cowardly, broke
his sword over a dastardly officer of Gerrish's regiment, and compelled
Capt.Callender to do his duty by threatening him with instant
death.During the raging of the battle, frothing at the mouth from
his vociferations, and his horse covered with foam, he was galloping
from end to end of the line, encouraging, directing, and commanding
everybody.My townsman Bagley, who was fighting at the time at the
breastwork, and others, say, in their simple language, "he had a very
encouraging look."In the language of one of Shakspeare's characters,--
"He outfaced the brow of bragging horror;
So that inferior men, who borrow their behavior
From the great, grew great by his example,
And put on the spirit of dauntless resolution."When Putnam could no longer prevent
the retreat of his troops, he was one of the last in the rear.He told
Whittemore, an old companion of the former war, he would rally again
directly, as he attempted to do at his slight intrenchments on Bunker
Hill, where he obstinately remained till even the Leonidas company
of Charlestown, and Trevett's noble corps, left him alone.Mary moved to the kitchen.Putnam it was who saved the honor of his country, as he had
already secured for her all the advantages of victory in the battle, by
rallying his troops again on Prospect Hill within cannon-shot of the
enemy, who did not dare to follow him; and he made a drawn battle of it.Seventy-five years since, the Battle of Bunker Hill was fought.Who
the commander was has ever since remained a mystery.Ward
was the commander-in-chief of the army at Cambridge; Maj.-Gen.Warren,
the next; Brig.-Gen.Putnam, the third in command; and Col.Prescott,
another officer of the army.Ward, from headquarters, ordered the
preparations for the battle, and the general movements and disposition
of the troops during the day.But, from want of staff officers, he
was unable to ascertain or to direct the particular movements and
manoeuvres of the troops during the day.He was the commander
of the general movements out of the field.Daniel travelled to the bathroom.Sandra journeyed to the bedroom.Had Napoleon, with his
numerous staff, been in Ward's place, history, without hesitation,
would have recorded him the commander.Warren[16] was on the field,
and, notwithstanding he declined to issue any orders, was authorized
so to do whenever he pleased.His situation was nearly identical with
that of the admiral, who declined giving any orders to his fleet,
and merely directed that "every commander of a ship should kill his
own bird."Warren, then, was the authorized, and for many years the
supposed commander, as he was the distinguished hero, martyr, and
volunteer of the battle.Putnam was the actual, and, on Warren's
declining, the authorized commander of Bunker Hill Battle.Daniel journeyed to the garden.He was "the
bright particular star," to which, during all the storm and tempest of
the battle, every eye was turned for guidance and for victory.Prescott[17] was commander at Bunker Hill the night before the battle,
and the next day till Gen.Putnam came on with the reinforcements; and,
during the battle, the commander at the redoubt.He erected his works
with his detachment of one thousand men, under a sheet of fire from the
enemy like a volcano, and defended them afterwards most heroically to
the latest moment of desperation.There were,
then, four who in some sense participated in the command of Bunker Hill
Battle; hence the multiplied mistakes on the subject.It may be equally
impossible to demonstrate who was exclusively the commander, as to
discover the author of Junius, or birthplace of Homer.It was our duty
not the less to make the attempt; as we have done with the greatest
diffidence, considering it a forlorn hope.Allen, late of Worcester, Samuel Adams, the
proscribed patriot, said, "I have heard some people find fault with
Gen.Ward, for intrenching on Breed's Hill, so near the enemy,
without any fortifications in their rear; but the world does not
know how much that man is to be justified for so doing; for he had
secret intelligence from Boston, by means of spies, that the British
were about to take possession of Dorchester Heights; and, to divert
them from their object, a close approach to the enemy was made by
intrenching on Breed's Hill, which had the desired effect, until the
provincials could take possession of Dorchester Heights."Sargent was born at Salem, in 1745, but resided in early life
at Cape Ann, and was rugged as the rocky mountains there.From his
continual intercourse, by sea, between the Cape and the Capital, he
acquired the additional roughness and hardihood of the mariner, and was
not mollified by his fierce disputes with the government and tories
in Boston.His schooling in the tented field lent the last finish to
his character: he was a perfect IronsSandra travelled to the office. |
bathroom | Where is John? | Learning from his brother, who was a tory, that he was
proscribed by Gov.Hutchinson, he made his escape into New Hampshire,
where he raised a regiment, to repay the governor's compliment, by
assisting to blockade Gov.When Washington departed for New York,
Sargent remained at Boston under Gen.Ward, who, Sargent says, knowing
his opinion of him, placed him as far off as he could, in command of
the castle and islands.Though the British had been driven off, he
contrived to find fighting, which he thus describes:--
"Early in April, on Fast Day, while we were going to meeting, an alarm
gun was fired from the Castle.I repaired to Long Wharf, and manned
my barge with forty men.Proceeding down, I observed a ship and three
schooners making for Shirley Point, and immediately proceeded to
Pudding Point Channel, and took charge of piloting her through the
Narrows.D. Martin coming on board, Knox being
the branch pilot, I gave up my command, and in a few moments he ran the
ship on a spit of sand, which I cautioned him of.We then collected all
the boats, and loaded with powder from the ship, and sent them to town.There were then lying in Nantasket Road, the 'Rainbow,' of fifty guns;
'Dawson,' of fourteen; and a schooner, tender to the 'Rainbow.'They
made no attempt to succor the ship during the day; but I expected they
would in the night, and warned Capt.Mugford and the other captains
to be very vigilant.I left on board the ship a captain and two
subalterns, with forty men, and returned to my quarters.In the night,
the British attempted to retake the ship, or destroy her.They came
with five boats full of men, and the largest laid the ship alongside.Credit is due to Daniel Malcom, who threw a rope over the boat's
mainmast, and hauled her in till her halyards could be seized by those
on board the ship; by which the boat was filled and sunk, and sixty
men were put to their paddles, most of whom were drowned.A heavy fire
from our soldiers obliged them to make a shameful retreat.They fired
a great number of shot at _us_ without effect.She was a most valuable
prize, being fully loaded with military stores.We were very short of
them, and Lord North could not have done us a greater service."Ward inquired whether Sargent could drive the enemy
from Nantasket.He informed him, that his cannon were too small; but,
Ward wishing him to make the experiment, he repaired in the night to
Long Island with three hundred men, erected breastworks before light,
and in the morning saluted the "Rainbow" with a shot, which struck
her on the quarter, carrying away some of her upper works; and excited
so great a panic in the enemy, that they instantly towed out, and,
the wind springing up, sailed off with the utmost despatch.Sargent,
satisfied with their movements, was too prudent to betray his weakness
by firing a second time.Crowned with these victories, in July, 1776,
he left Boston for New York, with the only full regiment then formed,
numbering, officers and men, seven hundred and twenty-seven.And, by
December, he had used up this regiment, by continual and desperate
fighting, at Harlem Heights, Fort Washington, White Plains, and by
casualties; one hundred and ninety-five of them only were left, to
tell the melancholy fate of their comrades.So ardent was Sargent's
patriotism, that, many years after the peace, being in Boston on
Sunday, he went to church with his half-brother, Daniel Sargent, Esq.and took his seat, before he perceived that his own brother, from
Halifax, who had been a tory and refugee, was in the same pew with
him.The moment he discovered this, he seized his three-cornered hat,
and stalked out of church; vociferating afterwards, that the same roof
should never cover such a---- tory as his brother was, and himself.The following description of Putnam was not intended for publication;
but that lends it the highest interest.Judge Dana, a senator of the
United States from Maine, was a grandson of Putnam, and remarks in
his letter, 1818, that he had just been to visit his aunt Waldo, Gen.Putnam's daughter; and then gives the following description of the
general:--
"In his person, for height, about the middle size; very erect;
thickset, muscular, and firm in every part.His countenance was open,
strong, and animated; the features of his face large, well-proportioned
to each other, and to his whole frame; his teeth fair and sound till
death.His organs and senses were all exactly fitted for a warrior; he
heard quickly, saw to an immense distance; and, though he sometimes
stammered in conversation, his voice was remarkably heavy, strong,
and commanding.Though facetious and dispassionate in private, when
animated in the heat of battle, his countenance was fierce and
terrible, and his voice like thunder.His whole manner was admirably
calculated to inspire his soldiers with courage and confidence, and
his enemy with terror.The faculties of his mind were not inferior to
those of his body; his penetration was acute, his decision rapid, yet
remarkably correct; and the more desperate his situation, the more
collected and undaunted.With the courage of a lion, he had a heart
that melted at the sight of distress; he could never witness suffering
in any human being, without becoming a sufferer himself; even the
operation of blood-letting has caused him to faint.In viewing the
field of battle, his distress was exquisite, until he had afforded
friend or foe all the relief in his power.Once after a battle, on
examining a bullet-wound through the head of a favorite officer, Capt.Whiting, who died on the field, he fainted, and was taken up for dead.Daniel went back to the bathroom.Martial music roused him to the highest pitch; while solemn, sacred
music set him into tears.In his disposition he was open and generous,
almost to a fault; he never disguised; and in the social relations of
life he was never excelled."One of the most magnificent monuments that ever bore the name of any
man, and which will transmit the name of Warren, in grateful and
glorious remembrance, down to the latest posterity, has been erected
in Boston Harbor.Fort Warren, for strength, grandeur, and scientific
perfection, is one of the masterpieces of military art; and it will
be highly gratifying to all the countrymen of Col.Thayer,--that
most amiable, scientific, and distinguished engineer, by whom it
was constructed,--that his name will be for ever so honorably and
deservedly associated with that of Warren.John moved to the bathroom.Both were born in the
vicinity of Boston.If we may be excused for speaking from a very slight experience, we
should say, there is no reason to suppose that any of Ward's orders to
his officers, on the occasion of the battle, were in writing.In 1814,
when the British forces, freed from European service, were pouring
into Canada, and apprehensions were entertained that they would make
their way into our country, we joined the army under Gen.Izard, on
the Champlain frontier, as one of the Massachusetts volunteers, and
served in his staff through the campaign as topographical engineer.The general was soon ordered to the Niagara frontier, to save
Gen.Brown from Drummond's superior force, which we found posted
on the north bank of the Chippewa River, and with very formidable
fortifications along the southern shore likewise.Izard, finding
that the enemy's position was unassailable in front, was desirous of
discovering whether the British fleet, with the large frigate they
had been building, which was to give them the mastery over Commodore
Chauncey, was out on Lake Ontario, so as to prevent him from getting
on the enemy's flank or rear.To gain this information, he ordered
me, and not in writing, to go with a small detachment of infantry
across the Niagara River in a boat, and proceed to the vicinity of
Lake Ontario, to obtain the requisite information.That region was
abandoned to the enemy, and deserted by all the Americans, excepting a
few men who frequented it occasionally, to look after their property,
though their fine crops were rotting on the ground.We embarked on
the Canada side of the Niagara; and, as we neared the opposite shore,
we were challenged by a body of musketeers demanding who we were.Neither party had any uniform, or other badge of nationality; and
as they, being on _terra firma_, had us at a great disadvantage, my
tactic was to gain time, while we were fast approaching the shore.But as I was only a soldier "by the book," and very little of that,
I was confounded with my situation.Andre's egregious indiscretion, in disclosing to his captors who he
was, in place of claiming to be an American, which would have insured
his safety, I was disposed to avoid his mistake, and pass our party
off for English.But no simile goes on all-fours.In our case, had I
guessed wrong as to their character, they would have responded with
their guns.To gain time, I cried out, "Friends!"but that trick did
not take; their muskets were levelled at us, and they swore they would
fire, if we did not answer them directly.We were prepared for them,
and I was compelled to show our colors.We soon
gained the information we were in pursuit of, and had the melancholy
though magnificent view, with our glass, of the British fleet in the
offing, on Lake Ontario.We reported these unpleasant tidings to
Gen.Izard; and his whole plan of campaign was frustrated, and the
war virtually over.The general, in his dilemma, consulted one of
the most distinguished officers in the army, and as great a military
genius probably as the world has produced,--young Col.M'Cree, of the
engineers.On our arrival at Fort Erie, we found him in Gen.Brown's
staff; and he had really been the principal staff on which Brown had
leaned to gain his brilliant success on the Niagara frontier.Izard was desirous of reaping the same advantage from M'Cree, who
advised to a very ingenious and scientific expedient to extricate the
general from his embarrassment.It was to construct a floating bridge
at some distance above the enemy, on our side of the Chippewa, with
one end fastened on our side, while the rest of the bridge was to be
floated off into the river; and the other end, when the current had
carried it to the opposite shore, to be attached there, for our army
to pass over.Brown, once relieved by Izard from Drummond's
superior force, seemed not at all disposed to assist him to gain any
laurels in return.There was a marked jealousy and coldness between
those officers, that precluded any joint enterprise of theirs from
succeeding.Totten, now head of the engineer department, was a young
engineer in Gen.Izard's staff, and gained his first laurels at
Plattsburgh.The forts he built there would have done him honor,
even had he then gained his present high advancement.With the most
unmanageable material, the sand of Plattsburgh, he contrived, with
the aid of carpentry, to construct his forts with a skill, science,
and ingenuity that would have rendered them impregnable, Gen.Izard
declared, against the overwhelming force of Prevost, even if it had not
been crippled by the naval victory of the gallant Com.When
we left Plattsburgh for Fort Erie, Totten remained behind to test and
fight his own works, which he did with great _eclat_.xii_a_-xx, and 49 text figures.PART IV.--A Complete Mosasaur Skeleton.xxi-xxiii, and 15 text figures.PART V.--A Skeleton of Diplodocus.xxiv-xxviii, and 15 text figures.Price
of Parts IV and V, issued under one cover, $2.00.PART VI.--Monograph of the Sesiidae of America, North of Mexico.xxix-xxxvi, and 24 text figures.PART VII.--Fossil Mammals of the Tertiary of Northeastern Colorado.xxxvii-xxxix, and 34 text figures.PART VIII.--The Reptilian Subclasses Diapsida and Synapsida and the
Early History of the Diaptosauria.I._
PART I.--Facial Paintings of the Indians of Northern British Columbia.PART II.--The Mythology of the Bella Coola Indians.PART III.--The Archaeology of Lytton.PART IV.--The Thompson Indians of British Columbia.xiv-xx, and 198 text figures.PART V.--Basketry Designs of the Salish Indians.xxi-xxiii, and 15 text figures.PART VI.--Archaeology of the Thompson River Region.xxiv-xxvi, and 51 text figures.PART I.--Symbolism of the Huichol Indians.PART II.--The Basketry of the Tlingit.v-xviii, and 73 text figures.PART III.--Decorative Art of the Huichol Indians.xix-xxiii, and 117 text figures.PART IV.--The Chilkat Blanket.With Notes on the
Blanket Designs, by Franz Boas.II._
PART I.--Traditions of the Chilcotin Indians.PART II.--Cairns of British Columbia and Washington.By Harlan I. Smith
and Gerard Fowke.PART III.--Traditions of the Quinault Indians.By Livingston Farrand,
assisted by W. S. Kahnweiler.PART IV.--Shell-Heaps of the Lower Fraser River.vi-vii, and 60 text figures.*PART V.--The Lillooet Indians.viii
and ix, 40 text figures.*PART VI.--Archaeology of the Gulf of Georgia and Puget Sound.x-xii, and 98 text figures.*PART VII.--The Shuswap.xiii-xiv, and
82 text figures.III._
PART I.--Kwakiutl Texts.PART II.--Kwakiutl Texts.*PART III.--Kwakiutl Texts._Hyde Expedition._
The Night Chant, a Navaho Ceremony.i-xvi,
1-332, pll.i-viii (5 colored), and 19 text figures.IV._
PART I.--The Decorative Art of the Amur Tribes.i-xxxiii, and 24 text figures.*_Jesup North Pacific Expedition, Vol.V._
PART I.--Contributions to the Ethnology of the Haida.i-xxvi, 4 maps, and 31 text figures.PART II.--The Kwakiutl of Vancouver Island.xxvii--lii, and 142 text figures.PART I.--The Osteology of _Camposaurus_ Cope.PART II.--The Phytosauria with Especial Reference to _Mystriosuchus_ and
_Rhytiodon_.vi-xi, and 26 text
figures.PART III.--Studies on the Arthrodira.xii and xiii, and 25 text cuts.PART IV.--The Conard Fissure, A Pleistocene Bone Deposit in Northern
Arkansas, with Descriptions of two New Genera and twenty New Species of
Mammals.xiv-xxv, and 3 text-figures.PART V.--Studies on Fossil Fishes (Sharks, Chimaeroids, and Arthrodires).xxvi-xli, and 65 text figures.PART VI.--The Carnivora and Insectivora of the Bridger Basin, Middle
Eocene.xlii-lii, and 118 text
figures.*_Jesup North Pacific Expedition, Vol.VI._
PART I.--Religion and Myths of the Koryak.i-xiii, 1 map, and 58 text figures.PART II.--Material Culture and Social Organization of the Koryak.xiv-xl, and 194 text figures.*_Jesup North Pacific Expedition, Vol.VII._
PART I.--The Chuckchee: Material Culture.i-xxxi, 1 map, and 199 text figures.PART II.--The Chuckchee: Religion.xxxii-xxxiv, and 101 text figures.PART III.--The Chuckchee: Social Organization.*_Jesup North Pacific Expedition, Vol.VIII._
Part I.--Chuckchee Myth |
bathroom | Where is Daniel? | The stern-line and
the bow-line were cast off; and Somers stood in the little wheel-house,
ready to ring the bells.Captain Osborn had just stepped on shore,
intending to mount his horse and ride up the river, where he could see
the conflagration when it came off.Just then, there was a tremendous commotion among the firemen and
engineer; and, a moment later, a broad, bright sheet of flame rose from
the heap of combustibles in the after-part of the steamer.CHAPTER XX
CAPTAIN DE BANYAN FINDS AN OLD FRIEND
Both Somers and De Banyan flew to the rescue, and made a most
enthusiastic attempt to check the fire; but the raging element was now
past control.The flames spread through the combustible material which
had been stored on the deck; and they were compelled to abandon the
ill-starred steamer with the utmost precipitation, in order to save their
own lives.De Banyan had rolled up an old newspaper, making of it a kind of torch,
some three feet in length, which he had inserted in a mass of pitch-wood
shavings, and set the end on fire.It had burned long enough to remove
suspicion from him; and, when the pilot and crew went on shore, Captain
Osborn had no idea of the trick of which he had been made the victim.Our
scouts kept up appearances in the most remarkable manner, and Somers was
only afraid that his zealous companion would overdo the matter."What do you mean by that, Captain Osborn?"demanded Somers, as he shook
the cinders from his clothes in the presence of the rebel officer."Did
you intend to sacrifice our lives?""Yes; burn us up before we had time to leave the old hulk!""I thought we were to light the fire ourselves.""I didn't do it," replied Captain Osborn."Well, I don't know; but, in my opinion, you did it yourself."Do you think I would destroy the work of my own
hands?""Well, I supposed you fired the train so as to be sure the thing was done
right.""You are a fool, or else you didn't suppose any such thing.""I didn't know but what you had one of those clock machines, that touch a
thing off at a certain time."I don't know; perhaps from a spark from the fire.It is done, and can't be helped.I have lost the satisfaction
of seeing half the Yankee fleet burnt up.I would rather have given a
year's pay than have had this accident happen.""Haven't they got most ready for the Yankee fleet above here?"asked
Somers as carelessly as he could."They are building batteries up above, to knock the Yankees into pieces,
aren't they?""Well, Captain Osborn, I don't believe your plan would have succeeded if
the steamer hadn't caught afire.""Suppose the Yankees had stopped us on our way up, and come on board the
steamer.Don't you think they would have known what she was for?"Why didn't you fit out your steamer up the river?""We haven't so many steamers that we can afford to burn them up.We took
this one because she happened to be in the creek, where the Yankees could
capture her at any time they pleased.""It wouldn't need a steamer above the fleet; a raft would do just as
well.I think I shall go up the river, and see what can be done.Well,
boys," added Somers to the men in the boat, "there will be no fun
to-night, and you may as well go home."As this order was in conformity with previous instructions, the men
pulled down the creek to its mouth, where they could remain concealed
till their officers returned.Daniel went back to the bathroom.By the light of the burning steamer, Captain Osborn had attentively
scanned the features of the pilot and his companion, apparently for the
purpose of determining where he had seen the former.As they had both
dressed themselves for the occasion, they submitted to his scrutiny
without fear.When he had finished his survey, he mounted his horse,
which was fastened to a tree near the creek, and had become very restive
as the glaring fire scattered burning cinders near him.As the rider had
no further use for our enterprising operatives, he bestowed no further
notice upon them, and rode off to report to his commanding officer the
failure of the hopeful enterprise."Well, we have done some good by coming over here," said Captain de
Banyan as the officer galloped up the road above the creek."No, I don't; we are alone.""Perhaps not; the trees have ears sometimes."We will take a walk up to the batteries, if there are any
there."They proceeded in the direction indicated for about three miles without
being molested, or even challenged by a sentinel.The Army of the Potomac
had been on the other side of the river nearly a month, and had ceased to
be a curiosity to the rebel inhabitants in the vicinity; and like
sensible people, as they were in this respect if in no other, they
devoted the hours of darkness to sleep.On the shore opposite the camp,
they found a battery of artillery.Rude field-works had been constructed
near the water, on which the guns of the company had been placed.Our
travelers were too modest to make the acquaintance of the rebels, and
kept at a respectful distance from them, crawling on the ground near
enough to ascertain the force of the enemy.Taking to the fields for greater safety, the scouts went up the river
several miles farther, without making any discoveries worthy of notice.The object of the excursion had been fully accomplished; and they began
to retrace their steps towards the creek, where the boat was waiting
their return.When we are well employed, time passes away very rapidly;
and our adventurers had taken no note of its passage.Before they had
made a single mile, the bright streaks of day in the east warned them
that they had remained too long for their own safety.The prospect of being examined by rebel officers in broad daylight was
not pleasant; and, increasing their speed, they walked by the shortest
way towards the creek.When they had passed the battery of artillery,
they abandoned the fields, through which they could make but slow
progress, for the road.They had three miles farther to go, and it was
now nearly sunrise."I think we must have lost two or three hours," said Somers as they
hastened on their way."I had no idea that it was more than two o'clock
in the morning when we turned about.""Nor I," replied De Banyan."We must have spent two or three hours in
crawling on the ground about that battery.""I don't see where the time is all gone."When I was in the Crimea----"
"Never mind the Crimea now," protested Somers, who was in no mood for his
companion's fibs."I did not mean to be crusty; but you know my opinion about those stories
of the Crimea and the Italian war, and I don't think it is a good plan to
talk so much over here.""As you please; it is your turn to speak next.""I know you didn't, Somers; but you reproved me, and I can only hold my
peace; for you are the commander of this expedition.""You know I like you as a brother; but I don't like those silly yarns
about your impossible achievements.John moved to the bathroom.This last remark was caused by the sound of horses' feet behind them; and
our travelers looked back with eager interest to ascertain what was
approaching.It was a body of cavalry, which had just swept round a bend
of the road, and was now in plain sight of them."That won't do," said De Banyan with energy."I think they have seen us, and we may as well make the best of it.If we
hide, they will certainly suspect us."They are half a mile off," replied the
captain, as he retired to the field by the side of the road.Somers followed him, though he did not fully approve the policy of his
friend.They walked a short distance till they came to a covert of
bushes, in which they concealed themselves.The dog always bites when you attempt to
run away from him," said Somers."I don't think they saw us," persisted De Banyan."If they did, we can
tell as good a story here as we could in the road."I have found that impudence will
carry a man a great deal farther and a great deal faster than his legs
can."When I was in Italy----"
"Bah!Don't say Italy or Crimea again till we reach the other side of the
river," interposed Somers, who was too seriously affected by the perils
of their situation to be willing to listen to any of his companion's
hallucinations."Just as you please, Somers," answered the captain, unmoved by the
rebuff; "but, when I was doing scout duty before the battle of Magenta, I
saw the advance of the Austrians coming up behind me.Mary journeyed to the bathroom.I crawled into a
haystack, and remained there while the whole army of the Austrians, about
four hundred thousand men, passed by me."Somers could not but smile at the infatuation of his friend, who at such
a perilous moment could indulge in such a vicious practice as that of
inventing great stories.He did not even ask him how long it took the
Austrian army to pass the haystack, whether they had haystacks in Italy,
nor if it was probable that such an army would pass over a single road.He waited patiently, or impatiently, for the approach of the rebel
cavalry, which soon reached the road near the bushes where they were
hidden.To his consternation, they came to a dead halt; and he could see the men
gazing earnestly in the direction they had retired.Then half a dozen of
the troopers entered the field, and rode directly towards the covert of
bushes.Just after the battle of Palestro, when I----"
"Hush!""Hush it is," replied De Banyan, as coolly as though he had been under
his shelter tent on the other side of the James.Taking a knife from his pocket, he began to cut away at a straight bush
which grew near him, and was thus busily employed when the soldiers
reached the spot.Somers stretched himself on the ground, and waited the
issue of the event; deciding to let his companion, who had got him into
the scrape, extricate him from it.The coolness of the captain, and the
peculiar manner he assumed, convinced him that he had some resources upon
which to draw in this trying emergency.shouted one of the troopers savagely, as though he
intended to carry consternation in the tones of his voice.inquired De Banyan, as impudently as though he
had been the lord of the manor.demanded the horseman, as he forced his animal
into the bushes far enough to obtain a full view of both of the
fugitives."Well, old hoss, if Heaven gin you two eyes, what were they gin to ye
fur?"replied the captain, still hacking away at the sapling."What d'ye run for when you saw us coming?""What d'ye come in here fur?""Don't ye see what I came in here for?"replied De Banyan, as he finished
cutting off the bush, and proceeded to trim off the branches."Well, old hoss, I'm the brother of my father's oldest son.""Hain't got any; had a difficulty with the district attorney in our
county, and lost it.""Come out here, and show yerself.The cap'n wants to see yer down to the
road."Say, you hain't got a spare hoss in your caravan,
have you?I'm gettin' amazin' tired.""Needn't wait for me; I'm in no hurry," answered the captain, as he
slowly emerged from the bushes, followed by Somers."But I shall wait for yer; and, if yer don't step along lively, I'll let
yer know how this cheese-knife feels.""Don't distress yourself to do anything of the sort," said De Banyan; and
he hobbled along on his new-made cane.A walk of a few rods brought them to the road, where the commander of the
company was impatiently awaiting their arrival.He looked daggers at the
travelers, and evidently intended to annihilate them by the fierceness of
his visage."Give an account of yourself," said he."We're no account," replied De Banyan."I've seen you before," continued the cavalry commander, gazing intently
at the captain.demanded De Banyan with an expression of humor.Give us your hand, Barney,"
added the officer, as he extended his own."Well, cap'n, perhaps I'm Barney what's-his-name; but, 'pon my word, I
don't think I am;" and De Banyan wore a troubled expression, even to the
eyes of his anxious companion."Don't be modest about it, Barney.You left us rather unceremoniously;
but I hope you'll be able to show that it was all right.""'Pon my word it was all right, though I haven't the least idea what you
mean.""Haven't you, indeed, Barney?"laughed the captain, who, in spite of his
present happy manner, was evidently as much puzzled as the other party."'Pon my word, I haven't.""Do you mean to say you are not Barney Marvel, formerly a lieutenant in
the Third Tennessee?""I suppose I understood your position, Barney; but I advise you not to
deny facts.""I never deny facts, captain; you haven't told me your name yet."There
wasn't an officer in the regiment that didn't mourn you as a brother when
you left us.""I'm very much obliged to them," replied De Banyan lightly; but even
Somers began to have some doubts in regard to his popular friend."How are Magenta, Solferino, and the Crimea, now-a-days?"Don't know much about geography," answered
the captain.Somers was confounded when the officer repeated these words, which was
proof positive that he was the man whom the captain represented him to
be."Sergeant, dismount, and tell me if you find B. M. on that man's right
arm."The sergeant obeyed, and, with the assistance of another, bared the
captain's arm, where they found, plainly marked in India ink, the
initials B. M.
CHAPTER XXI
THE THIRD TENNESSEE
Probably there was no one in either party who was so thoroughly
bewildered by the incident which had just transpired as Captain Somers.The mystery of his companion's antecedents was in a fair way to be
cleared up, though in a very unsatisfactory manner to those most
intimately concerned.Sandra went to the kitchen.The conversation, and the verification of the rebel
officer's statements, showed that De Banyan was not De Banyan; that the
brave and brilliant Federal officer was not a Federal officer; that, of
all he had been, only the "brave" and "brilliant" remained.It was painfully evident that the bold and dashing captain was, or had
been, a rebel officer.Somers was terribly shocked at the discovery, even
while it was a satisfaction to have the mystery of his companion's
previous life explained.For the time, he forgot the perils of his own
situation in the interest he felt in the affairs of his friend.Perhaps
De Banyan was a spy, who had been serving in the Union army for the
purpose of conveying information to the enemy.He had been very glad of
the opportunity to cross the river; and it seemed probable to our hero
that he wished to return to his friends.It is true, the efficient
services of the captain in the Army of the Potomac, his readiness at all
times to fight the rebels, and especially his shooting down the enemy's
pickets in the swamp, were not exactly consistent with such a record; but
perhaps he had done these things to keep up appearances, and thus enable
him the better to promote the objects of the rebellion.He was anxious to hear the captain's explanation of these gross charges;
but, of course, that was utterly impracticable at present.In the
meantime, there was no room to doubt that the cavalry officer had all the
truth on his side.He had hinted very strongly that De Banyan was a
deserter; but he might have deserted for the purpose of performing the
special duty which had been assigned to him.Officers and soldiers, sent
out as spies, had often incurred the |
bathroom | Where is John? | If Captain de Banyan was a deserter in appearance only, he would, of
course, soon be able to make his fidelity and patriotism apparent to the
rebel authorities; and being a patriot, in the traitor use of the word,
he could not do less than denounce his companion as a Federal spy.Whatever turn the affair might take, Somers felt that his own chances of
escape were every moment becoming beautifully less.If De Banyan was a
faithful rebel, there was proof positive that his companion was a spy; if
not, he was in the company of a deserter, and would be subjected to all
manner of suspicion.De Banyan still held his head up, and did not lose his impudence, even
after the letters had been found upon his arm.He did not appear to be at
all confused by the discovery and the triumph of the cavalry officer's
argument.He punched Somers in the side with his elbow; but the latter
was unable to divine the significance of this movement."Well, Barney, I wish somebody else had caught you instead of me; for it
is not pleasant to find an old friend under such circumstances.""If you please, captain, I haven't the pleasure of knowing your name.""Come, Barney, don't keep up this farce any longer.""I was about to beg the favor, that you would not call me by that
offensive name any longer."Daniel went back to the bathroom."You seem to be changing your colors very rapidly," laughed the officer."When I first saw you, you were a rough-spoken fellow; but now you use
the language of a polished gentleman.Barney, you and I were good friends
in the Third Tennessee; and, though I am sorry to meet you under these
circumstances, we must both make the best of it.""I tell you, captain, you are entirely mistaken in your man.I never was
in Tennessee in my life."You were always celebrated for monstrous stories; and they are
fully in keeping with your past history.Well, since you refuse to
recognize an old friend, of course I shall be excused for any unpleasant
measures to which I may be compelled to resort.""Anything you please, captain, so long as you refrain from calling me
Barney, which in my estimation is a low and vulgar cognomen, that I am
unwilling to have applied to me."demanded the officer in more business-like
tones."His name is Tom Leathers; he's a pilot on the James.We refer you to
Captain Osborn for evidence of our character.We came here to do a job
for him."Captain Osborn lodges at the next house on this road,
and we will let him speak for the other man.He can't speak for you; for
I know you better than he does, or any other man who has not served in
the Third Tennessee.As you were going this way, you can walk along with
us.""Thank you for the polite invitation, and this is a handsome escort for a
man of my humble pretensions."The captain of the company ordered his men to keep back, and Somers and
De Banyan walked by the side of his horse, a few yards in advance of the
platoons.He had evidently adopted this method to draw out his prisoners;
for as such our officers were compelled to regard themselves."Marvel, you used to be a very sensible fellow when you were in the Third
Tennessee," said the rebel captain."I am surprised to see you adopting
such a stupid method to conceal your identity.""I had good reasons for it," replied De Banyan, casting his eyes behind
him, as if to assure himself that none of the soldiers were within
hearing."I should think a man of your discretion would easily understand the
reason, without any explanation.If I am to be tried for any offense, I
don't want to be judged by a whole company of cavalry.You know I always
took pride in my reputation.""I used to think so; but, when we missed you one day, we got rid of that
opinion in the Third Tennessee.""Then you wronged me; for I have faithfully served my country from that
day to this.""I am glad to hear it, and I hope you will be able to prove what you have
said."I came over from the other side of the river last night.You intimated
that my departure from the Third was not all regular," added the captain."In a word, it was understood that you had deserted.""I am very glad to hear it; but you will remember that your loyalty to
the Southern Confederacy was not above suspicion when you joined the
regiment."De Banyan punched Somers with his elbow at these words, as though he
wished him to take particular notice of them; but his admiring friend
needed no such admonition to induce him to give strict attention to the
statement, for it was the most satisfactory remark he had heard during
the interview.Captain de Banyan rose twenty-five per cent in his
estimation at the utterance of those words, however injurious they were
in the opinion of him who had spoken them.There was hope for the
captain; and Somers trusted that he would be able fully to exonerate
himself from the foul charge, when the occasion should permit such an
exposition."My loyalty ought to be considered above suspicion, and those who know me
best do so regard it," added De Banyan as he administered another mild
punch on the ribs of his fellow-sufferer."I was taken by the Yankees, in
short; and, at the first convenient opportunity, I have come over to see
you again.""I hope it is all right, Barney; but I am afraid it is not.""I shall be able to clear myself of every imputation of disloyalty,
before the proper tribunal."John moved to the bathroom."I have been following the fortunes of the Yankee army till last night;
when I took a boat, and came over the river.On the way I met a pilot
whose name was Andy, who turned me over to this man, who is also a pilot,
and came down to take out a fire-ship.""The one that was burned in the creek last night?"I refer you to Captain Osborn for the truth of the last part
of my statement; though the time was when you did not ask me to bring
vouchers for what I said.""For nothing, except your stories of the Crimea and the Italian war,"
replied the captain of cavalry with a significant smile."I must do you
the justice to say, that I never knew you to tell a falsehood on any
matter connected with your social or business relations.""Thank you for so much," replied De Banyan."Now that I have made it all
right, I suppose you needn't trouble yourself to attend to my affairs any
further.""No trouble at all, I assure you.Under the circumstances, I shall feel
it my duty to deliver you into the hands of my superiors, and they can do
as they please with you.But I sincerely hope that you will be able to
vindicate your character from the stain which rests upon it.""I don't think it needs any vindication.""There is some difference of opinion between us on that point."To Richmond," replied De Banyan promptly; and perhaps he intended to go
there with the Army of the Potomac, though its present prospects of
reaching the rebel capital were not very favorable."I thought it was; or rather to Petersburg, and from there we expected to
get a ride up in the cars."I can procure you a pass to Richmond," added the rebel."And an escort to attend us, I suppose," replied De Banyan with a smile."A small one; but here is the house where Captain Osborn lodges.If he
knows your friend here, and can vouch for his loyalty, all well; if not,
we shall not part two such loving friends."Captain Osborn had not risen when the company of cavalry reached his
quarters; but he was called from his bed, and appeared in front of the
house in the worst possible humor; for, being human, he did not like to
have his slumbers disturbed by unseasonable calls.As Somers feared
Captain Osborn denied all knowledge of the prisoners, except so far as
related to his interview with them during the night.He had never seen
either of them before; and he even took the trouble to add that he didn't
believe the young fellow was a pilot, which was gratuitous and uncalled
for on his part."Well, Marvel," added the cavalry officer rather coldly, "this business
is settled very much as I supposed it would be.I shall have to send you
up to Richmond, where, if your stories are all true, I doubt not you will
be able to clear yourself."You are the same affectionate fellow you used to be
when you were a lieutenant in the Third Tennessee," replied De Banyan
with a sneer; for it was evident that he was not at all pleased with the
result of the affair.Four soldiers were detailed from the company to conduct the prisoners to
a certain camp near the railroad at City Point, and there deliver them
over to the keeping of an officer whose name was mentioned."Good-morning, captain," said De Banyan with forced gayety."Good-morning, Marvel, and success to you.""By the way, Barney, if there is anything I can do for you, don't fail to
call upon me; that is, anything consistent with the duty of a faithful
officer.""Such a remark was entirely uncalled for," said De Banyan with dignity."Do you think I would ask an officer to sacrifice his conscience?"I meant no offense," added the rebel captain, touched
by the proud and dignified manner of his former friend.Mary journeyed to the bathroom."Your words and your conduct are in keeping with each other.""Really, Barney, I meant nothing by the remark.""Then it was the more unmanly to make it."In proof of it, permit me to do you a favor,"
pleaded the rebel, much concerned at the wound he had inflicted on the
sensitive nature of his late associate in the Third Tennessee."I ask no favors," answered De Banyan proudly.As a proof
of my friendship, I will take your parole of honor not to escape, and you
shall report at Richmond at your own pleasure.If you have any interest
in this young man, I will allow him the same favor.""After what has happened, I cannot accept a favor at your hands.I can't
see how an officer who doubts my word should be willing to take my
parole.""As you please, Marvel," added the captain petulantly."I can do no more
for you."Somers was greatly relieved when the rebel officer rode off, followed by
his company.He had trembled with anxiety, when the parole was offered to
De Banyan, lest he should accept it, and thus compel him to do the same.Although he could not see how it was to be brought about, he intended to
escape from the hands of his captors at the first convenient opportunity,
with or without De Banyan, as the case should demand.One of the four troopers detailed to guard the prisoners was a sergeant,
who intimated to them that they might take up the line of march for the
camp where they were bound.To preclude the possibility of an escape, he
ordered two of his men to ride ahead of the captives, while himself and
the other followed in the rear.The little procession moved off; and
there was never a sadder-hearted young man than Somers, who, were his
true character discovered, was liable to the pains and penalties of being
a spy."Sergeant, have you been to breakfast?"demanded De Banyan, after they
had walked a couple of miles, and were passing a farm-house."I smell fried bacon, and am willing to pay for breakfast for the whole
party."There is nothing in my orders to prevent me from taking up your offer;
and I will do it, if you will agree not to run away while we are at the
house," replied the prudent soldier."How shall we run away, with four men watching us?"The sergeant seemed to be satisfied with this argument; and they entered
the house, where breakfast was soon in preparation for them.CHAPTER XXII
THE REBEL FARM-HOUSE
Somers, besides the chagrin caused by his capture, was greatly disturbed
by the astounding discoveries he had made in regard to Captain de Banyan.He was extremely anxious to obtain an opportunity to converse with him in
relation to his disgraceful antecedents; but the presence of the rebel
soldiers prevented him from saying a word.Yet his looks must have
betrayed the distrust he felt in his companion; for De Banyan seemed to
study his face more than the faces of their captors.By this time, the six trusty soldiers who had been selected to
participate in the enterprise must have given them up, and returned to
the camp with the sad story of their capture.It was mortifying to Somers
to have such a report carried to the general of the division; for it
seemed to be an imputation upon his skill and tact; but he found some
consolation in believing that he should not have been taken if it had not
been for his unfortunate connection with Captain de Banyan, who was rash
beyond measure in venturing within the rebel lines, unless he really
meant to return to the Third Tennessee.Whatever the captain was, and whatever he intended to do, Somers could
not believe that his late friend had deliberately betrayed him into the
hands of the enemy.It might be so; or it might be that to save himself
from the consequences of his alleged desertion, he would claim to have
been always a faithful adherent of the Southern Confederacy.Somers was
perplexed beyond description by the perils and uncertainties of his
situation.He had, in fact, lost confidence in his companion; and the
result was, that he resolved to make his escape, if he could, from the
hands of the rebels without him.Under other circumstances, he would have
deemed it infamous to harbor, for an instant, the thought of deserting a
friend in the hour of extremity; and nothing but the remembrance of the
Third Tennessee could have induced him to adopt such a resolution.Having
adopted it, he kept his eyes wide open for any opportunity which would
favor his purpose.His curiosity, excited to the highest pitch to know
what the captain could say in defense of the heinous charge which had
been fastened upon him by the rebel cavalry officer, and which he himself
had substantiated, rendered the intention to part company with him very
disagreeable; but the terror of a rebel prison, and perhaps a worse fate,
were potent arguments in its favor.In the course of half an hour, the breakfast was ready, and the party sat
down with a hearty relish to discuss it.The fried bacon and biscuit were
luxuries to Somers, and he partook of them with a keener satisfaction
than he did of the costly viands of the "Continental" and the "National;"
but, deeply as he was interested in this pleasant employment, he hardly
ceased for a moment to think of the grand project of making his escape.For the time, this had become the great business of existence, and he
banished from his mind all minor questions.Opportunity is seldom wanting to those who are resolutely determined to
do great deeds.Only the slow-molded and irresolute want a time and a
place.Sandra went to the kitchen.The breakfast was finished, and the troopers and their prisoners
were on excellent terms with each other long before the conclusion of the
repast.Eating and drinking promote the social feeling; and Captain de
Banyan was as brilliant as he had ever been in the camps of the
Chickahominy.He made the rebels laugh, and excited their wonder by the
most improbable stories in which even he had ever indulged.It would have
been impossible to distinguish between the captives and the captors; for
the latter were extremely considerate, as they had probably been
instructed to be by the captain of the company.When the meal was finished, the troopers rose, and proposed to resume the
journey.De Banyan paid the bill in gold; for there was still a small
portion of the precious metal in the army."Now we are ready," said the sergeant; "and we will get our horses.It's
a pity we haven't horses for you; but, when you get tired, we will give
you the use of the saddles for a time."Mary went back to the kitchen.You remind me of a Russian
major-general, who insisted that I should ride his animal while he walked
by my side, after I was taken prisoner in the battle of Austerlitz.""He was a good fellow," replied the sergeant, who probably did not
remember the precise date of the celebrated battle quoted by the
versatile captain.Daniel travelled to the office."We shall not be behind him; and, if you like, you
shall have the first ride on my horse.""Thank you; but I couldn't think of depriving |
office | Where is Sandra? | "Well, we will settle all that by and by.Come with me now, if you
please," said the sergeant, as he led the way out of the house.As very little attention seemed to be paid to Somers--for the rebels
evidently did not regard him as either a slippery or a dangerous
person--he was permitted to bring up the rear.Now, it is always
mortifying to be held in slight esteem, especially to a sensitive mind
like that of our hero; and he resented the slight by declining to follow
the party.Near the outside door, as they passed out, he discovered
another door, which was ajar, and which led up-stairs.Without any waste
of valuable time, he slyly stepped through the doorway, and ascended the
stairs.The rebels were so busy in listening to the great stories of
Captain de Banyan, that they did not immediately discover the absence of
the unpretending young man.When our resolute adventurer saw the stairs through the partially open
door, they suggested to him a method of operations.It is true, he did
not have time to elaborate the plan, and fully determine what he should
do when he went up-stairs; but the general idea, that he could drop out
of a window and escape in the rear of the house, struck him forcibly, and
he impulsively embraced the opportunity thus presented.The building was
an ordinary Virginia farm-house, rudely constructed, and very imperfectly
finished.On ascending the stairs, Somers reached a large, unfinished
apartment, which was used as a store-room.From it opened, at each end of
the house, a large chamber.Daniel went back to the bathroom.No place of concealment, which was apparently suitable for his purpose,
presented itself; and, without loss of time, he mounted a grain chest,
and ascended to the loft over one of the rooms; for the beams were not
floored in the middle of the building.The aspect of this place was not
at all hopeful; for there were none of those convenient "cubby holes,"
which most houses contain, wherein he could bestow his body with any hope
of escaping even a cursory search for him.In the gable end, on one side of the chimney, which, our readers are
aware, is generally built on the outside of the structure, in Virginia,
was a small window, one-half of which, in the decay of the glass panes,
had been boarded up to exclude the wind and the rain.John moved to the bathroom.The job had
evidently been performed by a bungling hand, and had never been more than
half done.The wood was as rotten as punk; and without difficulty, and
without much noise, the fugitive succeeded in removing the board which
had covered the lower part of the window.By this time the absence of the prisoner had been discovered, and the
rebels were in a state of high excitement on account of it; but Somers
was pleased to find they had not rightly conjectured the theory of his
escape.He could hear them swear, and hear them considering the direction
in which he had gone.Two of them stood under the window, to which Somers
had restored the board he had removed; and he could distinctly hear all
that they said."Of course he did," said one of them."He slipped round the corner of the
house when we came out."It's open ground round here; and he couldn't
have gone ten rods before we missed him.""The captain will give it to me," replied the other, whose voice the
fugitive recognized to be that of the sergeant."We shall find him," added the other."He can't be twenty rods from here
now.""I did not think of the young fellow running off, but kept both eyes on
the other all the time; for I thought he wasn't telling all those stories
for nothing.""Maybe he is in the house," suggested the other.Somers thought that was a very bad suggestion of the rebel soldier; and,
if there had been any hope of their believing him, he would himself have
informed them that he was not in the house, and reconciled his conscience
as best he could to the falsehood.demanded a third person, which Somers saw, through
the aperture he had left between the board and the window, was the
farmer."He can't be fur from this yere.""No; I saw them both foller yer out.""So did I," added the farmer's wife, who had come out to learn the cause
of the excitement.On the other
hand, while the May-fly lasted, a trout so cultured, so highly refined,
so full of light and sweetness, would never demean himself to low bait,
or any coarse son of a maggot.Mary journeyed to the bathroom.Meanwhile Alec Bolt allowed poor Pike no peaceful thought, no calm
absorption of high mind into the world of flies, no placid period of
cobblers' wax, floss-silk, turned hackles, and dubbing.For in making of
flies John Pike had his special moments of inspiration, times of clearer
insight into the everlasting verities, times of brighter conception and
more subtle execution, tails of more elastic grace and heads of a
neater and nattier expression.As a poet labours at one immortal line,
compressing worlds of wisdom into the music of ten syllables, so toiled
the patient Pike about the fabric of a fly comprising all the excellence
that ever sprang from maggot.Yet Bolt rejoiced to jerk his elbow at the
moment of sublimest art.And a swarm of flies was blighted thus.Peaceful, therefore, and long-suffering, and full of resignation as he
was, John Pike came slowly to the sad perception that arts avail not
without arms.The elbow, so often jerked, at last took a voluntary jerk
from the shoulder, and Alec Bolt lay prostrate, with his right eye full
of cobbler's wax.This put a desirable check upon his energies for a
week or more, and by that time Pike had flown his fly.When the honeymoon of spring and summer (which they are now too
fashionable to celebrate in this country), the hey-day of the whole year
marked by the budding of the wild rose, the start of the wheatear from
its sheath, the feathering of the lesser plantain, and flowering of
the meadowsweet, and, foremost for the angler's joy, the caracole of
May-flies--when these things are to be seen and felt (which has not
happened at all this year), then rivers should be mild and bright, skies
blue and white with fleecy cloud, the west wind blowing softly, and the
trout in charming appetite.On such a day came Pike to the bank of Culm, with a loudly beating
heart.A fly there is, not ignominious, or of cowdab origin, neither
gross and heavy-bodied, from cradlehood of slimy stones, nor yet of
menacing aspect and suggesting deeds of poison, but elegant, bland, and
of sunny nature, and obviously good to eat.Him or her--why quest we
which?--the shepherd of the dale, contemptuous of gender, except in his
own species, has called, and as long as they two coexist will call, the
"Yellow Sally."A fly that does not waste the day in giddy dances
and the fervid waltz, but undergoes family incidents with decorum and
discretion.He or she, as the case may be,--for the natural history of
the river bank is a book to come hereafter, and of fifty men who make
flies not one knows the name of the fly he is making,--in the early
morning of June, or else in the second quarter of the afternoon, this
Yellow Sally fares abroad, with a nice well-ordered flutter.Despairing of the May-fly, as it still may be despaired of, Pike came
down to the river with his master-piece of portraiture.The artificial
Yellow Sally is generally always--as they say in Cheshire--a mile or
more too yellow.On the other hand, the "Yellow Dun" conveys no idea of
any Sally.But Pike had made a very decent Sally, not perfect (for he
was young as well as wise), but far above any counterfeit to be had in
fishing-tackle shops.But if he lives
now, as I hope he does, any of my readers may ask him through the
G.P.O., and hope to get an answer.It fluttered beautifully on the breeze, and in such living form, that
a brother or sister Sally came up to see it, and went away sadder and
wiser.Then Pike said: "Get away, you young wretch," to your humble
servant who tells this tale; yet being better than his words, allowed
that pious follower to lie down upon his digestive organs and with deep
attention watch, There must have been great things to see, but to see
them so was difficult.And if I huddle up what happened, excitement also
shares the blame.Pike had fashioned well the time and manner of this overture.He knew
that the giant Crockerite was satiate now with May-flies, or began to
find their flavour failing, as happens to us with asparagus, marrow-fat
peas, or strawberries, when we have had a month of them.Sandra went to the kitchen.And he thought
that the first Yellow Sally of the season, inferior though it were,
might have the special charm of novelty.With the skill of a Zulu, he
stole up through the branches over the lower pool till he came to a spot
where a yard-wide opening gave just space for spring of rod.Then he saw
his desirable friend at dinner, wagging his tail, as a hungry gentleman
dining with the Lord Mayor agitates his coat.With one dexterous whirl,
untaught by any of the many-books upon the subject, John Pike laid his
Yellow Sally (for he cast with one fly only) as lightly as gossamer upon
the rapid, about a yard in front of the big trout's head.A moment's pause, and then, too quick for words, was the things that
happened.A heavy plunge was followed by a fearful rush.Mary went back to the kitchen.Forgetful of current the
river was ridged, as if with a plough driven under it; the strong line,
though given out as fast as might be, twanged like a harp-string as it
cut the wave, and then Pike stood up, like a ship dismasted, with the
butt of his rod snapped below the ferrule.He had one of those foolish
things, just invented, a hollow butt of hickory; and the finial ring of
his spare top looked out, to ask what had happened to the rest of it.cried the fisherman; "but never mind, I shall have him next
time, to a certainty."When this great issue came to be considered, the cause of it was sadly
obvious.The fish, being hooked, had made off with the rush of a shark
for the bottom of the pool.A thicket of saplings below the alder tree
had stopped the judicious hooker from all possibility of following;
and when he strove to turn him by elastic pliance, his rod broke at the
breach of pliability."I have learned a sad lesson," said John Pike,
looking sadly.How many fellows would have given up this matter, and glorified
themselves for having hooked so grand a fish, while explaining that they
must have caught him, if they could have done it!But Pike only told me
not to say a word about it, and began to make ready for another tug of
war.He made himself a splice-rod, short and handy, of well-seasoned
ash, with a stout top of bamboo, tapered so discreetly, and so balanced
in its spring, that verily it formed an arc, with any pressure on it, as
perfect as a leafy poplar in a stormy summer."Now break it if you can,"
he said, "by any amount of rushes; I'll hook you by your jacket collar;
you cut away now, and I'll land you."This was highly skilful, and he did it many times; and whenever I was
landed well, I got a lollypop, so that I was careful not to break his
tackle.Moreover he made him a landing net, with a kidney-bean stick,
a ring of wire, and his own best nightcap of strong cotton net.Then
he got the farmer's leave, and lopped obnoxious bushes; and now the
chiefest question was: what bait, and when to offer it?Daniel travelled to the office.In spite of
his sad rebuff, the spirit of John Pike had been equable.The genuine
angling mind is steadfast, large, and self-supported, and to the vapid,
ignominious chaff, tossed by swine upon the idle wind, it pays as much
heed as a big trout does to a dance of midges.People put their fingers
to their noses and said: "Master Pike, have you caught him yet?"and Pike only answered: "Wait a bit."If ever this fortitude and
perseverance is to be recovered as the English Brand (the one thing that
has made us what we are, and may yet redeem us from niddering shame),
a degenerate age should encourage the habit of fishing and never
despairing.And the brightest sign yet for our future is the increasing
demand for hooks and gut.Pike fished in a manlier age, when nobody would dream of cowering from a
savage because he was clever at skulking; and when, if a big fish broke
the rod, a stronger rod was made for him, according to the usage of
Great Britain.Sandra went back to the office.And though the young angler had been defeated, he did not
sit down and have a good cry over it.About the second week in June, when the May-fly had danced its day,
and died,--for the season was an early one,--and Crocker's trout had
recovered from the wound to his feelings and philanthropy, there came
a night of gentle rain, of pleasant tinkling upon window ledges, and
a soothing patter among young leaves, and the Culm was yellow in the
morning, "I mean to do it this afternoon," Pike whispered to me, as
he came back panting.Mary went back to the garden."When the water clears there will be a splendid
time."The lover of the rose knows well a gay voluptuous beetle, whose pleasure
is to lie embedded in a fount of beauty.Deep among the incurving petals
of the blushing-fragrance, he loses himself in his joys sometimes,
till a breezy waft reveals him.And when the sunlight breaks upon his
luscious dissipation, few would have the heart to oust him, such a gem
from such a setting.All his back is emerald sparkles all his front red
Indian gold, and here and there he grows white spots to save the eye
from aching.Pike put his finger in and fetched him out, and offered him
a little change of joys, by putting a Limerick hook-through his thorax,
and bringing it out between his elytra._Cetonia aurata_ liked it
not, but pawed the air very naturally, and fluttered with his wings
attractively."I meant to have tried with a fern-web," said the angler; "until I saw
one of these beggars this morning.If he works like that upon the
water, he will do.What a
lovely colour the water is!With these words he stepped upon a branch of the alder, for the tone
of the waters allowed approach, being soft and sublustrous, without
any mud.Also Master Pike's own tone was such as becomes the fisherman,
calm, deliberate, free from nerve, but full of eye and muscle.He
stepped upon the alder bough to get as near as might be to the fish, for
he could not cast this beetle like a fly; it must be dropped gently and
allowed to play."You may come and look," he said to me; "when the water
is so, they have no eyes in their tails."The rose-beetle trod upon the water prettily, under a lively vibration,
and he looked quite as happy, and considerably more active, than when he
had been cradled in the anthers of the rose.To the eye of a fish he was
a strong individual, fighting courageously with the current, but sure
to be beaten through lack of fins; and mercy suggested, as well as
appetite, that the proper solution was to gulp him.cried John Pike, labouring
to keep his nerves under; "every inch of tackle is as strong as a
bell-pull.Now, if I don't land him, I will never fish again!"Providence, which had constructed Pike foremost of all things, for lofty
angling-disdainful of worm and |
hallway | Where is Daniel? | Not many anglers
are heaven-born; and for one to drop off the hook halfway through his
teens would be infinitely worse than to slay the champion trout.Pike
felt the force of this, and rushing through the rushes, shouted: "I am
sure to have him, Dick!Rod in a bow, like a springle-riser; line on the hum, like the string
of Paganini winch on the gallop, like a harpoon wheel, Pike, the
head-centre of everything, dashing through thick and thin, and once
taken overhead--for he jumped into the hole, when he must have lost
him else, but the fish too impetuously towed him out, and made off in
passion for another pool, when, if he had only retired to his hover, the
angler might have shared the baker's fate--all these things (I tell you,
for they all come up again, as if the day were yesterday) so scared me
of my never very steadfast wits, that I could only holloa!But one thing
I did, I kept the nightcap ready.Daniel went back to the bathroom."He is pretty nearly spent, I do believe," said Pike; and his voice was
like balm of Gilead, as we came to Farmer Anning's meadow, a quarter of
a mile below Crocker's Hole."Take it coolly, my dear boy, and we shall
be safe to have him."Never have I felt, through forty years, such tremendous responsibility.I had not the faintest notion now to use a landing net; but a mighty
general directed me."Don't let him see it; don't let him see it!Don't
clap it over him; go under him, you stupid!John moved to the bathroom.If he makes another rush, he
will get off, after all.The mighty trout lay in the nightcap of Pike, which was half a fathom
long, with a tassel at the end, for his mother had made it in the winter
evenings."Come and hold the rod, if you can't lift him," my master
shouted, and so I did.Then, with both arms straining, and his mouth
wide open, John Pike made a mighty sweep, and we both fell upon the
grass and rolled, with the giant of the deep flapping heavily between
us, and no power left to us, except to cry, "Hurrah!"A cup _with a broken handle_ stood _on the shelf_.My house _of cards_ fell _to the floor in a heap_.+Adjective or adverbial phrases consisting of a preposition and its
object, with or without other words, may be called prepositional
phrases.+
CLAUSES--COMPOUND AND COMPLEX SENTENCES
+43.+ Phrases must be carefully distinguished from +clauses+.The
difference is that a clause contains a subject and a predicate and a
phrase does not.+44.+ +A clause is a group of words that forms part of a sentence and
that contains a subject and a predicate.+
The lightning flashed | and | the thunder roared.Each of these sentences contains two clauses; but the relation between
the clauses in the first sentence is very different from that between
the clauses in the second.In the first example, each of the two clauses makes a separate
and distinct statement, and might stand by itself as a simple
sentence,--that is, as a sentence having but one subject and one
predicate.These clauses are joined by the conjunction _and_, which is
not a part of either.No doubt the speaker feels that there is some
relation in thought between the two statements, or he would not have
put them together as clauses in the same sentence.But there is nothing
in the form of expression to show what that relation is.In other
words, the two clauses are grammatically +independent+, for neither of
them modifies (or affects the meaning of) the other.The clauses are
therefore said to be +coördinate+,--that is, of the same “order” or
rank, and the sentence is called +compound+.In the second example, on the contrary, the relation between the two
clauses is indicated with precision.One clause (_the train started_)
makes the main statement,--it expresses the chief fact.Hence it is
called the +main+ (or +principal+) +clause+.Mary journeyed to the bathroom.The other clause (_when
the bell rang_) is added because the speaker wishes to +modify+ the
main verb (_started_) by defining the time of the action.This clause,
then, is used as a +part of speech+.Its function is the same as that
of an adverb (_promptly_) or an adverbial phrase (_on the stroke of the
bell_).For this purpose alone it exists, and not as an independent
statement.Hence it is called a +dependent+ (or +subordinate+)
+clause+, because it +depends+ (that is, “hangs”) upon the main clause,
and so occupies a lower or “subordinate” rank in the sentence.When
thus constructed, a sentence is said to be +complex+.+45.+ An ordinary +compound sentence+ (as we have seen in § 44) is made
by joining two or more simple sentences, each of which thus becomes an
+independent coördinate clause+.In the same way we may join two or more +complex sentences+, using them
as clauses to make one compound sentence:--
The train started when the bell rang, | and | Tom watched until the
last car disappeared.This sentence is manifestly +compound+, for it consists of two
+coördinate clauses+ (_the train started when the bell rang_; _Tom
watched until the last car disappeared_) joined by _and_.Each of these
two clauses is itself +complex+, for each could stand by itself as a
complex sentence.Similarly, a +complex+ and a +simple+ sentence may be joined as
coördinate clauses to make a compound sentence.Sandra went to the kitchen.The train started when the bell rang, | and | Tom gazed after it in
despair.Such a sentence, which is +compound in its structure+, but in which one
or more of the coördinate clauses are +complex+, is called a +compound
complex sentence+.[9]
+46.+ +A clause is a group of words that forms part of a sentence and
that contains a subject and a predicate.+
+A clause used as a part of speech is called a subordinate clause.Mary went back to the kitchen.All
other clauses are said to be independent.+
+Clauses of the same order or rank are said to be coördinate.+
+Sentences may be simple, compound, or complex.+
1.+A simple sentence has but one subject and one predicate, either or
both of which may be compound.+
2.+A compound sentence consists of two or more independent coördinate
clauses, which may or may not be joined by conjunctions.+
3.+A complex sentence consists of two or more clauses, one of which is
independent and the rest subordinate.+
+A compound sentence in which one or more of the coördinate clauses are
complex is called a compound complex sentence.+
I. SIMPLE SENTENCES
Iron rusts.Dogs, foxes, and hares are quadrupeds.Merton and his men crossed the bridge and scaled the wall.[Both
subject and predicate are compound.]COMPOUND SENTENCES
Shakspere was born in 1564; he died in 1616.[Two coördinate clauses;
no conjunction.]A rifle cracked, and the wolf fell dead.[Two clauses joined by the
conjunction _and_.]You must hurry, or we shall lose the train.[Two clauses joined by
_or_.]James Watt did not invent the steam engine, but he greatly improved
it.Daniel travelled to the office.Either you have neglected to write or your letter has failed to reach
me.The following conjunctions may be used to join coördinate clauses:
_and_ (_both_... _and_), _or_ (_either_... _or_), _nor_ (_neither_
... _nor_), _but_, _for_.COMPLEX SENTENCES
Examples will be found in §§ 48–50.CLAUSES AS PARTS OF SPEECH
+47.+ +Subordinate clauses+, like phrases, are used as +parts of
speech+.They serve as substitutes for +nouns+, for +adjectives+, or
for +adverbs+.+A subordinate clause that is used as a noun is called a noun (or
substantive) clause.+
2.+A subordinate clause that modifies a substantive is called an
adjective clause.+
3.+A subordinate clause that serves as an adverbial modifier is called
an adverbial clause.+
+48.+ I. NOUN (OR SUBSTANTIVE) CLAUSES.{_Success_ | _That we should succeed in this plan_} is improbable.The thought in these two sentences is the same, but in the second it
is more fully expressed.In the first sentence, the subject is the
noun _success_; in the second, the subject is the noun clause, _that
we should succeed in this plan_.This clause is introduced by the
conjunction _that_; the simple subject of the clause is the pronoun
_we_, and the simple predicate is the verb-phrase _should succeed_.The
first sentence is +simple+; the second is +complex+.Substantive clauses are often introduced by the conjunction _that_.Sandra went back to the office.The following sentences illustrate the use
of (1) an +adjective+, (2) an +adjective phrase+, (3) an +adjective
clause+, as a modifier of the subject noun.{An _honorable_ man | A man _of honor_ | A man _who values his
honor_} will not lie.{A _seasonable_ word | A word _in season_ | A word _that is spoken at
the right moment_} may save a soul.{My _native_ land | The land _of my birth_ | The land _where I was
born_} lies far across the sea.The first two sentences in each group are +simple+, the third is
+complex+.The following sentences illustrate the
use of (1) an +adverb+, (2) an +adverbial phrase+, (3) an +adverbial
clause+, as a modifier of the predicate verb (or verb-phrase).| _where you see
that elm_.}| _when the
clock struck_.}The banker will make the loan {_conditionally_.The first two sentences in each group are +simple+, the third is
+complex+.+51.+ Adjective clauses may be introduced (1) by the pronouns _who_,
_which_, and _that_, or (2) by adverbs like _where_, _whence_,
_whither_, _when_.Adverbial clauses may be introduced (1) by the adverbs _where_,
_whither_, _whence_, _when_, _while_, _before_, _after_, _until_,
_how_, _as_, or (2) by the conjunctions _because_, _though_,
_although_, _if_, _that_ (_in order that_, _so that_), _lest_, etc.The use of +phrases+ and +clauses+ as +parts of speech+
increases enormously the richness and power of language.Though
English has a huge stock of words, it cannot provide a separate noun
or adjective or adverb for every idea.By grouping words, however, in
phrases and clauses we, in effect, make a great variety of new nouns,
adjectives, and adverbs, each precisely fitted to the needs of the
moment in the expression of thought.SUMMARY OF DEFINITIONS
THE SENTENCE
1.Mary went back to the garden.A sentence is a group of words which expresses a complete thought.Sentences may be declarative, interrogative, imperative, or
exclamatory.(1) A declarative sentence declares or asserts something as a fact.(2) An interrogative sentence asks a question.(3) An imperative sentence expresses a command or a request.(4) An exclamatory sentence expresses surprise, grief, or some other
emotion in the form of an exclamation or cry.A declarative, an interrogative, or an imperative sentence may also be
exclamatory.SUBJECT AND PREDICATE
5.Every sentence consists of a subject and a predicate.The subject of a sentence designates the person, place, or thing that
is spoken of; the predicate is that which is said of the subject.The simple subject of a sentence is a noun or pronoun.The simple predicate of a sentence is a verb or verb-phrase.The simple subject, with such words as explain or complete its
meaning, forms the complete subject.The simple predicate, with such words as explain or complete its
meaning, forms the complete predicate.A compound subject or predicate consists of two or more simple
subjects or predicates, joined, when necessary, by conjunctions.Either the subject or the predicate, or both, may be compound.THE PARTS OF SPEECH
9.In accordance with their use in the sentence, words are divided
into eight classes called parts of speech,--namely, nouns, pronouns,
adjectives, verbs, adverbs, prepositions, conjunctions, and
interjections.(1) A noun is the name of a person, place, or thing.(2) A pronoun is a word used instead of a noun.It designates a person,
place, or thing without naming it.Nouns and pronouns are called substantives.The substantive to which a pronoun refers is called its antecedent.(3) An adjective is a word which describes or limits a substantive.An adjective is said to belong to the substantive which it describes or
limits.An adjective which describes is called a descriptive adjective; one
which points out or designates is called a definitive adjective.Mary moved to the bedroom.(4) A verb is a word which can assert something (usually an action)
concerning a person, place, or thing.Some verbs express state or condition rather than action.A group of words that is used as a verb is called a verb-phrase.Certain verbs, when used to make verb-phrases, are called auxiliary
(that is, “aiding”) verbs, because they help other verbs to express
action or state of some particular kind._Is_ (in its various forms) and several other verbs may be used to
frame sentences in which some word or words in the predicate describe
or define the subject.Daniel moved to the hallway.In such sentences, _is_ and other verbs that are
used for the same purpose are called copulative (that is, “joining”)
verbs.(5) An adverb is a word which modifies a verb, an adjective, or another
adverb.A word or group of words that changes or modifies the meaning of
another word is called a modifier.Adjectives and adverbs are both modifiers.(6) A preposition is a word placed before a substantive to show its
relation to some other word in the sentence.The substantive which follows a preposition is called its object.(7) A conjunction connects words or groups of words.(8) An interjection is a cry or other exclamatory sound expressing
surprise, anger, pleasure, or some other emotion or feeling.The meaning of a word in the sentence determines to what part of
speech it belongs.The same word may be sometimes one part of speech, sometimes another.The infinitive is a verb-form which partakes of the nature of a
noun.It is commonly preceded by the preposition _to_, which is called
the sign of the infinitive.The participle is a verb-form which has no subject, but which
partakes of the nature of an adjective and expresses action or state in
such a way as to describe or limit a substantive.A participle is said to belong to the substantive which it describes or
limits.The chief classes of participles are present participles and past
participles, so called from the time which they denote.SUBSTITUTES FOR THE PARTS OF SPEECH
PHRASES
13.A group of connected words, not containing a subject and a
predicate, is called a phrase.A phrase is often equivalent to a part of speech.(1) A phrase used as a noun is called a noun |
kitchen | Where is Sandra? | (2) A phrase used as a verb is called a verb-phrase.(3) A phrase used as an adjective is called an adjective phrase.(4) A phrase used as an adverb is called an adverbial phrase.Adjective or adverbial phrases consisting of a preposition and
its object, with or without other words, may be called prepositional
phrases.A clause is a group of words that forms part of a sentence and that
contains a subject and a predicate.A clause used as a part of speech is called a subordinate clause.Clauses of the same order or rank are said to be coördinate.Sentences may be simple, compound, or complex.(1) A simple sentence has but one subject and one predicate, either or
both of which may be compound.(2) A compound sentence consists of two or more independent coördinate
clauses, which may or may not be joined by conjunctions.(3) A complex sentence consists of two or more clauses, one of which is
independent and the rest subordinate.A compound sentence in which one or more of the coördinate clauses are
complex is called a compound complex sentence.Subordinate clauses, like phrases, are used as parts of speech.They serve as substitutes for nouns, for adjectives, or for adverbs.(1) A subordinate clause that is used as a noun is called a noun (or
substantive) clause.(2) A subordinate clause that modifies a substantive is called an
adjective clause.(3) A subordinate clause that serves as an adverbial modifier is called
an adverbial clause.PART TWO
INFLECTION AND SYNTAX
CHAPTER I
INFLECTION
+52.+ +Inflection is a change of form in a word indicating some change
in its meaning.A word thus changed in form is said to be inflected.+
Thus the nouns _man_, _wife_, _dog_, may change their form to
_man’s_, _wife’s_, _dog’s_, to express possession; or to _men_,
_wives_, _dogs_, to show that two or more are meant.The pronouns _I_, _she_, may change their form to _our_, _her_.The adjectives _large_, _happy_, _good_, may change their form to
_larger_, _happier_, _better_, to denote a higher degree of the
quality; or to _largest_, _happiest_, _best_, to denote the highest
degree.The verbs _look_, _see_, _sing_, may change their form to _looked_,
_saw_, _sang_, to denote past time.The examples show that a word may be inflected (1) by the addition of
a final letter or syllable (_dog_, _dogs_; _look_, _looked_), (2) by
the substitution of one letter for another (_man_, _men_), or (3) by a
complete change of form (_good_, _better_, _best_).+53.+ The inflection of a substantive is called its +declension+; that
of an adjective or an adverb, its +comparison+; that of a verb, its
+conjugation+.Some forms which we regard as due to inflection are really
distinct words.Thus _we_ is regarded as a form of the pronoun _I_,
but it is in fact an altogether different word.Such irregularities,
however, are not numerous, and are properly enough included under the
head of inflection.The table below gives a summary view of inflection, and may be used for
reference with the following chapters.SUBSTANTIVES (NOUNS AND PRONOUNS)
Gender { Masculine (_male_)
{ Feminine (_female_)
{ Neuter (_no sex_)
Number { Singular (_one_)
{ Plural (_more than one_)
Person { First (_speaker_)
{ Second (_spoken to_)
{ Third (_spoken of_)
Case { Nominative (_subject case_)
{ Possessive (_ownership_)
{ Objective (_object case_)
ADJECTIVES AND ADVERBS
Comparison { Positive Degree
{ Comparative Degree
{ Superlative Degree
VERBS
Number { Singular }
{ Plural }
} _Verb agrees with Subject_
Person { First }
{ Second }
{ Third }
Tense { Simple Tenses { Present
{ { Past
{ { Future
{
{ Compound Tenses { Perfect (or Present Perfect)
{ { Pluperfect (or Past Perfect)
{ { Future Perfect
Mood { Indicative (_all six tenses_)
{ Imperative (_Present Tense only_)
{ Subjunctive (_Present_, _Past_, _Perfect_, _Pluperfect_)
Voice { Active (_Subject acts_)
{ Passive (_Subject receives the action_)
Infinitives (Present and Perfect)
Participles (Present, Past, and Perfect)
CHAPTER II
NOUNS
CLASSIFICATION--COMMON NOUNS AND PROPER NOUNS
+54.+ +A noun is the name of a person, place, or thing.+
+55.+ +Nouns are divided into two classes--proper nouns and common
nouns.+
1.+A proper noun is the name of a particular person, place, or thing.+
EXAMPLES: Lincoln, Napoleon, Ruth, Gladstone, America, Denver,
Jove, Ohio, Monday, December, Yale, Christmas, Britannia, Niagara,
Merrimac, Elmwood, Louvre, Richardson, Huron, Falstaff.+A common noun is a name which may be applied to any one of a class
of persons, places, or things.+
EXAMPLES: general, emperor, president, clerk, street, town, desk,
tree, cloud, chimney, childhood, idea, thought, letter, dynamo,
cruiser, dictionary, railroad.Proper nouns begin with a capital letter; common nouns usually begin
with a small letter.Although a proper noun is the name of a particular person,
place, or thing, that name may be given to more than one individual.Sandra went to the hallway.More than one man is named _James_; but when we say _James_, we think
of one particular person, whom we are calling by his own name.When
we say _man_, on the contrary, we are not calling any single person
by name: we are using a noun which applies, in common, to all the
members of a large class of persons.Any word, when mentioned merely +as a word+, is a noun.Thus,--
_And_ is a conjunction.+56.+ A common noun becomes a proper noun when used as the particular
name of a ship, a newspaper, an animal, etc.Nelson’s flagship was the _Victory_.Give me this evening’s _Herald_.The _Limited Express_ is drawn by the _Pioneer_.+57.+ A proper noun often consists of a group of words, some of which
are perhaps ordinarily used as other parts of speech.EXAMPLES: James Russell Lowell, Washington Elm, Eiffel Tower, Firth
of Clyde, North Lexington Junction, Stony Brook, Westminster Abbey,
Measure for Measure, White House, Brooklyn Bridge, Atlantic Railroad,
Sherman Act, The Return of the Native, Flatiron Building.These are (strictly speaking) noun-phrases (§ 41); but, since
all are particular names, they may be regarded as proper nouns.+58.+ A proper noun becomes a common noun when used as a name that may
be applied to any one of a class of objects.The museum owns two _Rembrandts_ and a _Titian_.I exchanged my old motor car for a new _Halstead_.He was a _Napoleon_ of finance.I am going to buy a _Kazak_.+59.+ Certain proper nouns have become common nouns when used in a
special sense.EXAMPLES: macadam (crushed stone for roads, so called from Macadam,
the inventor), mackintosh (a waterproof garment), napoleon (a coin),
guinea (twenty-one shillings), mentor (a wise counsellor), derringer
(a kind of pistol).+60.+ A lifeless object, one of the lower animals, or any human quality
or emotion is sometimes regarded as a person.This usage is called +personification+, and the object, animal, or
quality is said to be +personified+.Each old poetic _Mountain_
Inspiration breathed around.--GRAY.“I,” said the _Bull_,
“Because I can pull.”
His name was _Patience_.--SPENSER.Smiles on past _Misfortune’s_ brow
Soft _Reflection’s_ hand can trace;
And o’er the cheek of _Sorrow_ throw
A melancholy grace.--GRAY._Love_ is and was my lord and king,
And in his presence I attend.--TENNYSON._Time_ gently shakes his wings.--DRYDEN.The name of anything personified is regarded as a proper noun and is
usually written with a capital letter.When the personification
is kept up for only a sentence or two (as frequently in Shakspere),
the noun often begins with a small letter.SPECIAL CLASSES OF NOUNS
+61.+ +An abstract noun is the name of a quality or general idea.+
EXAMPLES: blackness, freshness, smoothness, weight, height, length,
depth, strength, health, honesty, beauty, liberty, eternity,
satisfaction, precision, splendor, terror, disappointment, elegance,
existence, grace, peace.Many abstract nouns are derived from adjectives.EXAMPLES: greenness (from _green_), depth (from _deep_), freedom
(from _free_), wisdom (from _wise_), rotundity (from _rotund_),
falsity or falseness (from _false_), bravery (from _brave_).+62.+ +A collective noun is the name of a group, class, or multitude,
and not of a single person, place, or thing.+
EXAMPLES: crowd, group, legislature, squadron, sheaf, battalion,
squad, Associated Press, Mediterranean Steamship Company, Senior
Class, School Board.The same noun may be +abstract+ in one of its meanings, +collective+ in
another.+63.+ Abstract nouns are usually common, but become proper when the
quality or idea is personified (§ 60).Collective nouns may be either proper or common.+64.+ +A noun consisting of two or more words united is called a
compound noun.+
EXAMPLES: (1) common nouns,--tablecloth, sidewalk, lampshade,
bedclothes, steamboat, fireman, washerwoman, jackknife, hatband,
headache, flatiron, innkeeper, knife-edge, steeple-climber,
brother-in-law, commander-in-chief, window curtain, insurance
company; (2) proper nouns,--Johnson, Williamson, Cooperstown,
Louisville, Holywood, Elk-horn, Auburndale, Stratford-on-Avon, Lowell
Junction.As the examples show, the parts of a compound noun may be joined (with
or without a hyphen) or written separately.In some words usage is
fixed, in others it varies.The hyphen, however, is less used than
formerly.Sandra journeyed to the kitchen.The first part of a compound noun usually limits the second
after the manner of an adjective.Indeed, many expressions may be
regarded either (1) as compounds or (2) as phrases containing an
adjective and a noun.Thus _railway conductor_ may be taken as a
compound noun, or as a noun (_conductor_) limited by an adjective
(_railway_).INFLECTION OF NOUNS
+65.+ In studying the inflection of nouns and pronouns we have to
consider +gender+, +number+, +person+, and +case+.+Gender is distinction according to sex.+
2.+Number is that property of substantives which shows whether they
indicate one person or thing or more than one.+
3.+Person is that property of substantives which shows whether they
designate (1) the speaker, (2) the person spoken to, or (3) the person
or thing spoken of.+
4.+Substantives have inflections of case to indicate their grammatical
relations to verbs, to prepositions, or to other substantives.+
These four properties of substantives are included under inflection
for convenience.In strictness, however, nouns are inflected for
number and case only.Gender is shown in various ways,--usually by
the meaning of the noun or by the use of some pronoun.Person is
indicated by the sense, by the pronouns used, and by the form of the
verb.I. GENDER
+66.+ +Gender is distinction according to sex.+
+Nouns and pronouns may be of the masculine, the feminine, or the
neuter gender.+
1.+A noun or pronoun denoting a male being is of the masculine gender.+
EXAMPLES: Joseph, boy, cockerel, buck, footman, butler, brother,
father, uncle, he.+A noun or pronoun denoting a female being is of the feminine
gender.+
EXAMPLES: girl, Julia, hen, waitress, maid, doe, spinster, matron,
aunt, squaw, she.+A noun or pronoun denoting a thing without animal life is of the
neuter gender.+
EXAMPLES: pencil, light, water, star, book, dust, leaf, it.A noun or pronoun which is sometimes masculine and sometimes feminine
is often said to be of +common gender+.EXAMPLES: bird, speaker, artist, animal, cat, European, musician,
operator, they.+67.+ +A pronoun must be in the same gender as the noun for which it
stands or to which it refers.+
Each of the following pronouns is limited to a single gender:
MASCULINE: _he_, _his_, _him_.FEMININE: _she_, _her_, _hers_.NEUTER: _it_, _its_.A _mother_ passed with _her_ child.This _tree_ has lost _its_ foliage.[Masculine, feminine, or neuter.][Masculine, feminine, or neuter.]+68.+ A neuter noun may become masculine or feminine by
+personification+ (§ 60 |
garden | Where is Mary? | Thou who didst waken from his summer dreams
The blue Mediterranean.--SHELLEY.Sandra went to the hallway.Nature from her seat
Sighing through all her works, gave signs of woe.--MILTON.+69.+ In speaking of certain objects, such as a ship and the moon, it
is customary to use _she_ and _her_.In like manner, _he_ is used in
speaking of the sun and of most animals, without reference to sex,
although _it_ often designates an insect or other small creature, and
even a very young child._Who_ and _which_ are both used in referring to the +lower animals+._Which_ is the commoner, but _who_ is not infrequent, especially if the
animal is thought of as an intelligent being.Thus one would say, “The dog _which_ is for sale is in that kennel,”
even if one added, “_He_ is a collie.” But _which_ would never be
used in such a sentence as, “I have a dog _who_ loves children.”
+70.+ The +gender+ of masculine and of feminine nouns may be shown in
various ways.The male and the female of many kinds or classes of living beings
are denoted by different words.MASCULINE FEMININE
father mother
husband wife
uncle aunt
king queen
monk nun
wizard witch
lord lady
horse mare
gander goose
drake duck
cock hen
ram ewe
bull cow
hart hind
buck doe
fox vixen[10]
2.Some masculine nouns become feminine by the addition of an ending.MASCULINE FEMININE
heir heiress
baron baroness
lion lioness
prince princess
emperor empress
tiger tigress
executor executrix
administrator administratrix
hero heroine
Joseph Josephine
sultan sultana
Philip Philippa
NOTE.Sandra journeyed to the kitchen.The feminine gender is often indicated by the ending _ess_.Frequently the corresponding masculine form ends in _or_ or _er_:
as,--actor, actress; governor, governess; waiter, waitress.The
ending _ess_ is not so common as formerly.Usage favors _proprietor_,
_author_, _editor_, etc., even for the feminine (rather than the
harsher forms _proprietress_, _authoress_, _editress_), whenever
there is no special reason for emphasizing the difference of sex.A few feminine words become masculine by the addition of an ending.Thus,--_widow_, _widower_; _bride_, _bridegroom_.Gender is sometimes indicated by the ending _man_, _woman_, _maid_,
_boy_, or _girl_.EXAMPLES: salesman, saleswoman; foreman, forewoman; laundryman;
milkmaid; cash boy, cash girl.A noun or a pronoun is sometimes prefixed to a noun to indicate
gender.EXAMPLES: manservant, maidservant; mother bird; cock sparrow, hen
sparrow; boy friend, girl friend; he-wolf, she-wolf.The gender of a noun may be indicated by some accompanying part of
speech, usually by a pronoun.My _cat_ is always washing _his_ face.The _intruder_ shook _her_ head.I was confronted by a pitiful _creature_, haggard and _unshaven_.The variations in form studied under 2 and 3 (above) are often
regarded as inflections.Sandra travelled to the garden.In reality, however, the masculine and the
feminine are different words.Thus, _baroness_ is not an inflectional
form of _baron_, but a distinct noun, made from _baron_ by adding
the ending _ess_, precisely as _barony_ and _baronage_ are made from
_baron_ by adding the endings _y_ and _age_.The process is rather
that of +derivation+ or noun-formation than that of inflection.NUMBER
+71.+ +Number is that property of substantives which shows whether they
indicate one person, place, or thing or more than one.+
+There are two numbers,--the singular and the plural.+
+The singular number denotes but one person, place, or thing.The
plural number denotes more than one person, place, or thing.+
+72.+ +Most nouns form the plural number by adding _s_ or _es_ to the
singular.+
EXAMPLES: mat, mats; wave, waves; problem, problems; bough, boughs;
John, Johns; nurse, nurses; tense, tenses; bench, benches; dish,
dishes; class, classes; fox, foxes.If the singular ends in _s_, _x_, _z_, _ch_, or _sh_, the plural
ending is _es_.EXAMPLES: loss, losses; box, boxes; buzz, buzzes; match, matches;
rush, rushes.Many nouns ending in _o_ preceded by a consonant also take the
ending _es_ in the plural.EXAMPLES: hero, heroes; cargo, cargoes; potato, potatoes; motto,
mottoes; buffalo, buffaloes; mosquito, mosquitoes.Nouns ending in _o_ preceded by a vowel form their plural in _s_:
as,--_cameo_, _cameos_; _folio_, _folios_.The following nouns ending in _o_ preceded by a consonant also form
their plural in _s_:--
banjo
bravo
burro
cantocasino
chromo
contralto
duodecimo
dynamo
halo[11]
junto
lasso
memento[11]
octavo
piano
proviso
quarto
solo
soprano
stiletto
torso
tyro
zero[11]
+73.+ In some nouns the addition of the plural ending alters the
spelling and even the sound of the singular form.Nouns ending in _y_ preceded by a consonant change _y_ to _i_ and
add _es_ in the plural.EXAMPLES: sky, skies; fly, flies; country, countries; berry, berries.(Contrast: valley, valleys; chimney, chimneys; monkey, monkeys; boy,
boys; day, days.)Most proper names ending in _y_, however, take the plural in _s_.EXAMPLES: Mary, Marys; Murphy, Murphys; Daly, Dalys; Rowley, Rowleys;
May, Mays.Some nouns ending in _f_ or _fe_, change the _f_ to _v_ and add _es_
or _s_.EXAMPLES: wharf, wharves; wife, wives; shelf, shelves; wolf, wolves;
thief, thieves; knife, knives; half, halves; calf, calves; life,
lives; self, selves; sheaf, sheaves; loaf, loaves; leaf, leaves; elf,
elves; beef, beeves.+74.+ A few nouns form their plural in _en_.These are: ox, oxen; brother, brethren (_or_ brothers); child,
children.Ancient or poetical plurals belonging to this class are: _eyne_
(for _eyen_, from _eye_), _kine_ (cows), _shoon_ (shoes), _hosen_
(hose).Mary journeyed to the garden.+75.+ A few nouns form their plural by a +change of vowel+.These are: man, men; woman, women; merman, mermen; foot, feet; tooth,
teeth; goose, geese; mouse, mice; louse, lice.Also compound words
ending in _man_ or _woman_, such as fireman, firemen; saleswoman,
saleswomen; Dutchman, Dutchmen._German_, _Mussulman_, _Ottoman_, _dragoman_, _firman_, and
_talisman_, which are not compounds of _man_, form their plurals
regularly: as,--_Germans_, _Mussulmans_._Norman_ also forms its
plural in _s_.+76.+ A few nouns have the same form in both singular and plural.EXAMPLES: deer, sheep, heathen, Japanese, Portuguese, Iroquois.This class was larger in older English than at present.It included, for example, _year_, which in Shakspere has two
plurals:--“six thousand _years_,” “twelve _year_ since.”
+77.+ A few nouns have two plurals, but usually with some difference in
meaning.SINGULAR PLURAL
brother { brothers (relatives)
{ brethren (members of the same society)
horse { horses (animals)
{ horse (cavalry)
foot { feet (parts of the body)
{ foot (infantry)
sail { sails (on vessels)
{ sail (vessels in a fleet)
head { heads (in usual sense)
{ head (of cattle)
fish { fishes (individually)
{ fish (collectively)
penny { pennies (single coins)
{ pence (collectively)
cloth { cloths (pieces of cloth)
{ clothes (garments)
die { dies (for stamping)
{ dice (for gaming)
The _pennies_ were arranged in neat piles.English money is reckoned in pounds, shillings, and _pence_.+78.+ When +compound nouns+ are made plural, the last part usually
takes the plural form; less often the first part; rarely both parts.EXAMPLES: spoonful, spoonfuls; bathhouse, bathhouses; forget-me-not,
forget-me-nots; editor-in-chief, editors-in-chief; maid-of-honor,
maids-of-honor; gentleman usher, gentlemen ushers; Knight Templar,
Knights Templars; Lord Justice, Lords Justices; manservant,
menservants.+79.+ Letters of the alphabet, figures, signs used in writing, and
words regarded merely as words take _’s_ in the plural.“Embarrassed” is spelled with two _r’s_ and two _s’s_.Your _3’s_ look like _8’s_.Tell the printer to change the §’s to ¶’s.Don’t interrupt me with your _but’s_!+80.+ Foreign nouns in English sometimes retain their foreign plurals;
but many have an English plural also.Some of the commonest are included in the following list:[12]
SINGULAR PLURAL
alumna (feminine) alumnæ
alumnus (masculine) alumni
amanuensis amanuenses
analysis analyses
animalculum animalcula[13]
antithesis antitheses
appendix { appendices
{ appendixes
axis axes
bacillus bacilli
bacterium bacteria
bandit { banditti
{ bandits
basis bases
beau { beaux
{ beaus
candelabrum candelabra
cumulus cumuli
cherub { cherubim
{ cherubs
crisis crises
curriculum curricula
datum data
ellipsis ellipses
erratum errata
formula { formulæ
{ formulas
genius { genii
{ geniuses
genus genera
gymnasium { gymnasia
{ gymnasiums
hippopotamus hippopotami
hypothesis hypotheses
larva larvæ
memorandum { memoranda
{ memorandums
nebula |
garden | Where is Sandra? | Spirits are sometimes called _genii_.We have witnessed the
rapidly increasing demand for this excellent and wholesome article of
food from comparatively a few to more than ten thousand barrels a year
in our own business alone.That Hominy is a healthy and nutritious
article of diet no one pretends to deny, as it has been ascertained by
chemical analysis and comparison that one pound of Hominy equals five
pounds of Potatoes.“This Mill will work from FOUR to SEVEN bushels of corn per hour.One
bushel of common corn will make from twenty-eight to thirty pounds of
Hominy.The offal, or meal,
sells rapidly, and brings a price equal to that for ground corn, making
a superior feed for hogs, cattle, etc.”
We have a Hominy Machine, horizontal cylinder screen, &c., not a
continuous feeder, that takes in a charge of one-half bushel at a time,
and does first-class work, that we will sell at a less price.[Illustration]
SCALES OF ALL KINDS,
Of the Best Makes, and Warranted.Always Ready for Shipment, at Manufacturers’ Lowest Prices._Deal direct with us_; _Satisfaction Guaranteed_.General Purpose Platform Scales,
_With and without wheels and drop levers, or with extra heavy wheels and
drop levers._
[Illustration]
------------------------------------------
DESCRIPTION.400
“ 2, 23¼×16¾ in.600
“ 3, 25×16¾ in.800
“ 4, 26×17 in.1000
“ 5, 28×20 in.1200
“ 6, 28½×20½ in.1400
“ 7, 28¾×20¾ in.1600
“ 8, 30¾×22¾ in.1800
“ 9, 32×23 in.2000
“ 10, 33¼×24¾ in.2500
“ 11, 38×30 in.3000
------------------------------------------
Cornometer, or Grain Testing Scale.[Illustration]
Adopted by the Chicago Board of Trade.Graduated so that by balancing a
quantity of grain in the cup, the beam will designate exactly how many
pounds it will weigh to the bushel.[Illustration]
PORTABLE HOPPER SCALE.30 bushels, 16 inch opening, without wheels.30 bushels, 16 inch opening, with wheels.40 bushels, 17 inch opening, without wheels.40 bushels, 17 inch opening, with wheels.DORMANT HOPPER SCALE.ONE PILLAR DORMANT SCALE.Sandra went to the hallway.3500 lbs., Platform 3½×3½ feet.[Illustration]
60 bushels, 18 inch opening.IRON PILLAR DORMANT SCALE.3500 lbs., Platform 3½×3½ feet.These Scales are fitted up with the Patent Combination Grain Beam, when
so ordered.They are furnished with the
Platform, as shown in the cut, or with opening to receive hopper as
wanted.On the double and single pillar Scales of each of the above sizes the
sliding poise is furnished without additional charge, and all highly
finished of first-class material.[Illustration]
DORMANT FLOUR SCALE.Grain, Hay, Coal and Stock Scales.[Illustration]
-----------+-----------+---------------------------+-----------------------
| Capacity.| | Distance from edge of
| Tons.-----------+-----------+---------------------------+-----------------------
{ | 3 | 13 × 7 feet 3 inches.Portable{ | 4 | 14 × 8 feet 4 inches.Shallow { | 5 | 14 × 8 feet 4 inches.{ | 6 | 15 × 8 feet 5½ inches.| | |
{ | 3 | 14 × 7 feet 7 inches.{ | 4 | 14 × 8 feet 1 inch.Trussed { | 5 | 14 × 8 feet 1 inch.{ | 6 | 15 × 7 feet 10¾ inches | 2 feet 4¼ inches.{ | 8 | 22 × 8 feet 5¼ inches.{ | 10 | 15 × 8 feet 4¾ inches.{ | 15 | 24 × 9 feet 5 inches.-----------+-----------+---------------------------+-----------------------
Brass Tare Beam and Graduated Counterpoise, extra.We have introduced it into some of the
largest Elevators and Mills in the country, and it is universally
pronounced a great improvement on the old style of beam._No weights are
used_, as the weighing is done exclusively with the poises.The three upper beams register respectively, wheat, corn and oats,
giving the bushels and pounds on each beam; hence all computation of
figures, and liability to mistakes are avoided.It is composed of three beautifully polished brass beams, and brass
poises respectively marked corn, wheat and oats.* * * * *
NOTE.--“Dormant Scales” are those with platforms made to let in even
with the floor; have given most all of the sizes we are prepared to
furnish.We try to keep ready for shipment most any style and price of
Scale wanted.Our price list gives dimensions, prices, &c.* * * * *
STANDARD WEIGHTS OF INDIANA.---------------------
Wheat 60
Rye 56
Barley 48
Oats 32
Corn 56
Ear Corn 68
Potatoes 60
Sweet Potatoes 55
Onions 48
“ Top 28
Turnips 55
Clover Seed 60
Timothy Seed 45
Flax Seed 56
Hung’ Gr.Seed 48
Buckwheat 50
Beans 60
Castor Beans 46
Bran 20
Malt 38
Corn Meal 50
Salt 50
“ Fine 55
Stone Coal 70
Dried Peaches 33
“ Apples 25
Broom Corn S’ 46
Millet Seed 50
Peas 60
Quick Lime 80
Coke 40
Blue Grass Seed 14
Hemp Seed 14
---------------------
STANDARD WEIGHTS OF ILLINOIS.---------------------
Wheat 60
Rye 56
Barley 48
Oats 32
Corn 56
Ear Corn 70
Potatoes 60
Sweet Potatoes 55
Onions 57
“ Top 28
Turnips 55
Clover Seed 60
Timothy Seed 45
Flax Seed 56
Hung’ Gr.S’ 48
Buckwheat 52
Beans 60
Castor Beans 46
Bran 20
Malt 34
Corn Meal 48
Salt 50
“ Fine 55
Stone Coal 80
Dried Peaches 33
“ Apples 24
Broom Corn S’ 46
Millet Seed 50
Peas 60
Quick Lime 80
Coke 40
Blue Grass Seed 14
Hemp Seed 14
---------------------
How to compute easily and correctly the contents of a Hopper.Sandra journeyed to the kitchen.Multiply the length by the breadth, in inches, and this product by
one-third of the depth, measuring to the point.Divide the last product by 2,150 (the number of cubic inches in a
bushel) and the quotient thus obtained will be the contents of the
hopper in bushels.* * * * *
The contents of a bin or box with perpendicular sides is found by
multiplying the length by the breadth, in inches, and this product by
the depth, and divide as above, will give the number of bushel
measurement.* * * * *
The U. S. Standard Bushel, Grain Measure contains 2150.44 cub.“ “ “ “ “ is 18½ in.Sandra travelled to the garden.“ “ halfbush.“ “ 14 “ “ 7 “
“ “ Gallon, Liquid “ contains 231 cubic in.Mary journeyed to the garden.* * * * *
Usual Weight per Bushel of Articles of Produce.Daniel went back to the bathroom.-------------------
Wheat, 60 lb
Corn, shel’, 56
“ in ear, 70
“ meal, 50
Barley, 48
Oats, 32
Rye, 56
Buckwheat, 52
Flax seed, 56
Clover, 60
Dr’ Appls, 24
“ Peach’, 33
Timothy, 56
Coal, 80
Salt, 50
----------------
In measuring vegetables, coal, etc., the measure requires to be heaped,
and adds about one-fourth to the number of cubic inches.Couplings and Adjustable Self-Oiling Hangers and Boxing.This important branch is one of our specialties.Having had made in
Massachusetts expressly to our order and for this particular purpose
tools equal to any in the United States for speed and accuracy, we are
prepared to furnish and keep ready to ship the supplies under this head.The shafting, gear and pulleys properly proportioned are next in
importance to the motive power.Shafting should run perfectly true and be turned to a gauge
throughout its entire length.Couplings well fitted and easy to remove.Pulleys symmetrical in proportion and nicely balanced.The bearings should be self-oiling and adjustable, as by settling
of the building or other causes their position changes.With all of these items complied with, there will be less trouble and
delays as well as a large per cent.In our price list we have fixed a price to each pulley, hanger, &c., for
the convenience of our customers, and we here will say that in buying
our work you do not pay for useless iron, while every part is strong and
sufficiently heavy.Daniel went to the garden.Those wishing estimates by weight or wishing to
purchase by weight, can always be accommodated.OUR PULLEYS are turned, bored, correctly balanced and key-seated or
set-screwed.All those over 36 inches
diameter we are prepared to furnish with wood rims put up in a superior
manner, of hard and soft dry timber, turned inside and out, well oiled,
painted and balanced.The spiders are after the style shown in the cut
under head of Elevators, &c., (represented as leaning against the
Elevator.)The first segment or circle of the wood rim is of hard wood,
and is carefully fitted to the iron spider and lug provided to receive
the pressure and driving incident to the transmission of the power
required.Clamp bolts let partly into the wood are provided to always
keep the spider binding in the rim.No pulley rim is liable to get loose
on the arms or spider when built by us.OUR SHAFTING is turned by a special machine made for the purpose, and no
variation in size will be noticed.Pulleys, gear or bearings may be
placed at any point with a perfect fit.OUR ADJUSTABLE HANGERS avoid all liability of binding; the bearing or
boxing-part is free to find its natural bearing; the ball and socket
self-oiling pillow-block (Fig.See
engravings) have the same advantages.All have the improved self-oiling
attachment making it necessary to oil but once in three months, and
cleaning twice a year.These bearings are adjustable every way as much as required, and not at
all liable to heat.[Illustration]
[Illustration: Pulley.[Illustration: Adjustable Self-Oiling H |
garden | Where is Mary? | Self-Oiling Hangers, Rigid Bearings, 9, 12 and 15 in.And rigid Pillow block bearings, not self-oiling, but large oil cups and
cast cover, new improved patterns.][Illustration: Fig 1
Ball and Socket Self-Oiling Pillow Block.][Illustration: Fig 2
Adjustable Self-Oiling Post Hanger.[Illustration: Fig 3
ADJUSTABLE SELF-OILING HANGER.]Rules to Find the Speed of Pulleys and Gearing.PROBLEM I.
The diameter of the driven pulley or wheel being given, to find its
number of revolutions._Rule_--Multiply the diameter of the driver by its number of
revolutions, and divide the product by the diameter of the driven: the
quotient will be the number of revolutions of the driven.The diameter and revolutions of the driver being given, to find the
diameter of the driven:
_Rule_--Multiply the diameter of the driver by its number of
revolutions, and divide the product by the number of revolutions of the
driven: the quotient will be its diameter.To ascertain the size of the driver:
_Rule_--Multiply the diameter of the driven by the number of revolutions
you wish to make, and divide the product by the revolutions of the
driver: the quotient will be the size of the driver.Sandra went to the hallway.Sandra journeyed to the kitchen._Note_--FOR GEARING take the diameters at the PITCH LINE, or take the
NUMBER OF COGS instead of DIAMETERS and use the same rules.Sandra travelled to the garden.Weights of Rolled Iron, Round and Square,
From 3/16 to 6 inches, and 1 foot in length, in pounds and 100ths of
pounds.-------+-------+-------+-------++-------+-------+-------+-------
ROUND IRON.|| SQUARE IRON.-------+-------+-------+-------++-------+-------+-------+-------
Size.-------+-------+-------+-------++-------+-------+-------+-------
3/16 | .09 | | || 3/16 | .12 | |
¼ | .17 |3¼ |28.04 || ¼ | .22 |3¼ | 35.70
⅜ | .37 | | || ⅜ | .48 | |
½ | .66 |3½ |32.52 || ½ | .85 |3½ | 41.50
⅝ | 1.05 | | || ⅝ | 1.32 | |
¾ | 1.50 |3¾ |37.34 || ¾ | 1.90 |3¾ | 47.54
⅞ | 2.03 | | || ⅞ | 2.60 | |
1 | 2.65 |4 |42.46 ||1 | 3.40 |4 | 54.10
1⅛ | 3.36 | | ||1⅛ | 4.28 | |
1¼ | 4.17 |4¼ |47.95 ||1¼ | 5.30 |4¼ | 61.06
1⅜ | 5.02 | | ||1⅜ | 6.40 | |
1½ | 5.97 |4½ |53.76 ||1½ | 7.60 |4½ | 68.45
1¾ | 8.13 |4¾ |59.90 ||1¾ |10.40 |4¾ | 76.35
2 |10.62 |5 |66.75 ||2 |13.55 |5 | 84.48
2¼ |13.45 |5¼ |73.18 ||2¼ |17.12 |5¼ | 93.17
2½ |16.70 |5½ |80.30 ||2½ |21.15 |5½ |102.25
2¾ |20.08 |5¾ |87.80 ||2¾ |25.60 |5¾ |111.76
3 |23.89 |6 |95.60 ||3 |30.50 |6 |121.67
-------+-------+-------+-------++-------+-------+-------+-------
Weight of a Square Foot of Sheet Iron as per Birmingham Gauge.10 or .134 of an inch thick, 5.5 pounds.12 or .109 of an inch thick, 4.3 pounds.16 or .065 of an inch thick, 2.62 pounds.Mary journeyed to the garden.18 or .049 of an inch thick, 1.92 pounds.20 or .035 of an inch thick, 1.41 pounds.24 or .022 of an inch thick, .95 pounds.26 or .018 of an inch thick, .78 pounds.A Plate of Wrought Iron 1 foot square, 1 inch thick weighs 40 lb.“ “ “ 1 inch “ 3⅝ “ long “ 1 lb.Daniel went back to the bathroom.“ Cast “ 1 “ “ 3⅞ “ “ “ 1 lb.SPRING COUPLING AND DRIVER.This is an article long wanted in a number of situations where power is
applied by stiff gearing, such for example, as where one or more run of
stones are driven by spur or bevel gearing.The coupling is secured to
connect the ends of the principal driving shafts as in the style of an
ordinary coupling, or in case of back-lash in the mill spindles it is
placed immediately above the gear in such a manner as to allow it to be
easily moved up out of gear, at the same time producing an elastic
movement in the transmission of power.It gives the advantage of a belt
connection in a great measure, in allaying the jar produced by fast
running gear.It is constructed of cast iron in two parts, with a space
or opening between to receive the requisite number of large stiff rubber
springs; each half is secured independently to the ends of the two
shafts needed to be coupled, and the power is transmitted by pressure
upon the springs; a like connection is made with the gear or
trundle-head and mill-spindle of a mill stone.They are furnished of
different sizes to suit the situation and amount of power to be
conveyed.This is a clear representation of the style of our bevel core gear
patterns.It was engraved from a photograph taken direct from the
casting to show correctly the proportion, shape, &c. With this style of
gear, as well as those for spur gearing, we are sufficiently supplied to
meet most any reasonable demand.All our patterns were made for the
purposes of flouring mills, with a view to avoid superfluous metal, at
the same time, to make them strong and in good proportion.Our spur
bolting gear patterns have been prepared with special care; the patterns
being iron with the teeth cut from blank rims by a gear cutter, they
remain true and from these always make true castings.The arms are
curved and oval in shape, and the whole of a design exactly meeting the
tastes of the most skillful mill-wrights.Any odd wheels that may be needed to complete the outfit of a job, we
have arranged to get on short notice.There being some half a dozen
foundries within a few blocks of our works, it will be seen we do not
lack the means near at hand.Having a gear cutting machine in our establishment, we are prepared to
face and dress the cogs of spur pinions, trundle-heads, and spur gear of
40 inches diameter and less of narrow face, and those of 24 inches
diameter and less of most any face or pitch.In the engraving of the bevel core wheel is shown (to the right of it) a
wood cog as we furnish them from the machine.The now extensive demand,
built up by close attention to this small but very important branch, for
now over fifteen years, has made it necessary to prepare ourselves by
keeping a larger stock of the material as well as improved machinery for
making them.At the proper time each year we have cut of hickory, sugar,
(often termed maple,) and some oak specially for this purpose, and we
have at no time less than 25,000 feet of the best lumber, part of it
being from three to six years old.For this purpose we use only the butt
logs cut from trees standing exposed in the out-skirts of the timber.When cogs are wanted to refill a wheel it is best to take out one of the
old ones and fit a temporary one in place of it, then send to us by
express, with your order by mail, or with the cog, of the number wanted.The cogs will be shanked and place cut for the keys exactly as per
sample, _and all uniform_, unless otherwise ordered.It is desirable for
us to know about what the pitch of the gear is, although the projecting
part of the cog is left of ample size to shape the tooth.We always box
them, and ship by freight or express, as ordered.Daniel went to the garden.It is no uncommon
thing for us to send cogs thus over a thousand miles from our works.SPUR GEARED MILLS
Are furnished to order to be driven by spur or crown wheel gear, direct
from upright shaft, in iron or wood husks, or without husks as
preferred.Such a mill is constructed to drive one or half a dozen run
of stones from one crown wheel.The iron pinions are made to lift from
suitable iron sleeves when necessary to stop one or more of the stones.To those who prefer to make
the husks at the mill house we will send drafts and description showing
how every part, iron and piece is located, as well as the entire
structure on the most approved plan.Here is where bad mistakes are often made, and the best of water wheels
sometimes condemned when the fault may be in not properly attaching the
wheel, or improper application of the water, or speed or size of wheel
not properly proportioned to the height of head or amount of water.And
we ask of parties interested in water powers to apply to us for advice,
should they have no one at hand competent to counsel with.We have
furnished and put in many kinds of water wheels for flouring mill
purposes, and carefully observed the workings of them, some of which are
still prominently before the public, and our experiences have developed
some valuable points of interest to those building water mills.[Illustration]
It is very important to ascertain the quantity of water that flows in a
stream, and the head and fall, to determine the exact amount of power
and the work it is capable of doing.It is frequently the case that
mills are constructed before finding the power of the stream, and upon
trial are found to fall short of their calculations.We give a very
plain way which will determine this.Place a wide board as a dam across
the stream (called a weir.)When the quantity of water is considerable,
it must be made in sections to get it sufficiently wide and long; then
cut a notch as shown in the engraving and about two-thirds the width of
the stream, placing the bottom of the notch level, and let the ends of
the weir dam (B B) be well bedded on each side of the stream.Observe in
cutting the opening or notch to bevel the edges down stream to within
say ⅛ of an inch of the side up stream; that the edges of the notch
sides and bottom be almost sharp but true and square, and the whole
opening sufficient for the water to pass; the bottom of the notch can be
leveled by letting the water pass over in a thin sheet; then drive a
stake three to four feet above the dam to one side or the middle of the
stream, and the upper end of it on a level with the bottom of the notch
in weir.And now that you have the dam made and in position so that all
the water will pass through the notch and no leaks, allow the water to
reach its full depth, then take square or rule and measure the exact
distance from the top of the stake driven in the stream to the top of
the water flowing towards the weir; 2d.Head and
fall, and send to us, and we will give you the power of your stream,
size of wheel to do the desired labor, &c.[Illustration]
[Illustration: STEAM ENGINE.]Careful experiments and practice with a view to properly proportion the
motive power to the work to be done has prepared us for giving valuable
information concerning steam engines for the purpose of flouring mills.John went back to the garden.And when requested will furnish the engines themselves combining the
necessary qualities, and see in person that all the parts, speed, &c.,
&c., be exactly adapted to do the work.When we furnish the engine, with
the other supplies of the mill, which is frequently the case, our
customers may rest assured all will be satisfactory as regards style of
finish, durability, sufficiency of power, and economy in the use of
fuel.We do not make engines ourselves, but purchase them of the best
makers, and if we should be consulted in all cases of whom to buy,
style, kind, &c., or be ordered to supply the engine direct, our
customers will be more likely to get what is best.HANGING AND DRIVING MILL IRONS.3._
Patented September 4, 1866, and August 1, 1871.]We do not think it necessary to write at length on the advantages of
this improvement, nor print our files of recommendatory letters.John travelled to the bedroom.The
necessity among intelligent millers and mill-owners for a good and
durable self-tramming driving iron is already well established.Many
attempts have been made to devise something for the purpose, and the
results are numerous; among them the “slip driver,” and those with loose
oscillating appendages for the weight of the stone to rest upon and be
driven by, and when adapted to their work, imperfectly accomplish the
design; their lack of durability, the obstruction presented to the free
passage of grain or middlings to be ground, and the fact that their form
does not admit of a free adjustment while driving the stone are the
chief objections.It has been established that these faults are entirely
avoided by the improvement illustrated in the accompanying cut, in which
Fig.1 is an elevation showing the iron ready to be cemented in the eye
of the runner.2 is a view of the bottom and inside, with the
sockets for the reception of the ends of the driver.3 is a
sectional elevation of all the parts, including the spindle and driver.The bridge S S, in which the steel cock-eye is placed, is in the form of
an inverted arch, and is a portion of the entire outside part.Being in
this shape, it has the double advantage of increased strength, and, by
the attachment above the point where the grain is distributed, making no
obstruction whatever to the passage of the |
garden | Where is Daniel? | The bearings for the ends of the driver, C C, are cast on the
adjustable section of the iron shown on the inner part of Fig.This
being adjustable on the steel pins shown as passing through the lugs A
A, gives to the ends of the driver at all times a free and equal bearing
in a lateral direction.The object gained by this arrangement is the
application of power by the driver to the inner section in a direct
plane, parallel to the face of the runner stone, said plane at the same
time passing through the cock-eye--hence there is no tendency whatever
to tip the stone.When the ordinary spindle with stiff driver is put in tram to the face
of the runner, the miller has no assurance that it will remain so, the
chances, indeed, being constantly against it.The heaviest spindle is
liable to spring from its true position by the pressure of the gear or
belt in driving it; the face of the runner stone changes, and the best
driver, or its bearings, will from unequal wearing of the metal or in
other ways cause it to get out of tram.Sandra went to the hallway.The results are uneven grinding,
inferior flour and diminished yield.The trouble necessary to take the
spindle out, turn over the runner, make a staff and file the ends of the
driver, is generally sufficient to deter the miller from performing the
disagreeable job, and the bad grinding is conveniently attributed to
some other difficulty.Among the advantages offered by this improvement are increased grinding
capacity with a given amount of power, more even grinding and better
yield, and lastly, but not less important, increased facility in
obtaining a perfect running balance.It will be observed that the runner
is supported upon a steel seat secured in the stone permanently--being
substantially the same in this respect as when the ordinary balance-iron
is used.The power being transmitted to the stone by the adjustable part of the
iron and no weight upon any part of it, with the entire structure of the
form to give the greatest attainable firmness and durability, combine to
make it perfection as a driving iron, and it is accordingly in extensive
use, although no especial effort has been made until late for their
manufacture and sale.They are made in the best manner by skillful men
and machinery adapted for the purpose, the parts well fitted and turned
true inside where the grain enters and passes.Sandra journeyed to the kitchen.They are made of the following sizes: 8½, 10 and 12 inches diameter.To order for attaching to stones with other irons already in, give
diameter of the eye in stone at the face.Sandra travelled to the garden.Distance from the cock-head point to the lower side of the driver.Shape of cock-head as near as you can.Shape and exact size of spindle where your present driver goes on.Mary journeyed to the garden.In getting the shape as well as size of place where your present driver
fits, it is a good plan to oil the inside surface of the hole in driver
(in which the spindle fits) and fill it with plaster, then take out and
send the cast by express.The shape of cock-head may be got by similar
process.We will send necessary instructions, so that any one of medium skill can
put them in at the mill.Give names, post office, county, and shipping point plainly, and how you
wish to pay us.Money sent by Post Office Order is safe, and payment
with the order always saves delay and trouble of making out bills,
book-entries, &c. To those whose faith is not sufficient, will send the
irons on trial or as circumstances best suggest at the time.These two cuts are intended to represent the self-tram irons for our
under-runner mills.1 shows the form of the outside, as it appears
before being bedded in the centre, and iron back of the runner stone.2 is a view of the inside, showing where the point of the spindle
and driver rest.[Illustration]
This cut is a sectional view of our improved oil bush.A shows the mill
spindle, B B, B B, is the collar or part that turns with the spindle and
is secured firmly to it.The parts E E E E, show the upwardly projecting
sleeve at some distance from and encircling the spindle or shaft, and
forms the inner wall of the oil chamber.C C C C are two of the four
followers or segments lined with the best anti-friction metal.The
wedges N N, are raised or lowered as circumstances require by the four
metal screws, two of them being shown at S S; by this means the
followers and spindle are adjusted with great precision.D D D D forming
the outer wall of the chamber, and E E E E its bottom and inner part,
gives us a complete oil well in which the followers, collar of spindle,
&c., are immersed.THE OPERATION is as follows: the rotating shaft or
spindle carries with it the collar or sleeve bearing and produces
centrifugal force in the chamber, by which the oil is driven up the
sides of the passages and followers; the bearing is thus made to move
constantly in oil.No oil can escape except when necessary to draw off
at the orifice provided with the thumb screw K, when a fresh supply is
needed.This simple self-oiling arrangement is the best thing in use for
fast running upright bearings of any kind.1_]
The object of the invention which is herewith illustrated, is to enable
the spindles of mill-stones to be adjusted with perfect accuracy, and at
the same time furnish bearings of anti-friction materials, which may be
kept constantly and perfectly lubricated, and from which all extraneous
dust or grit, calculated to aggravate friction, may be kept excluded.1 is a perspective view of this improvement, and Fig.2 is a
sectional view of the same, showing details of construction.2,
is the spindle, playing in segmental bearings B.
There are four of these, which, together, make up the entire bearing for
the spindle.They are hollow, as shown in the engraving, and faced with
anti-friction surfaces.The outer sides of these segments are inclined, these surfaces resting
against the inclined inner surfaces of the hollow binding wedges C.
Through the lower part of these wedges pass hooked bolts, D, with thumb
nuts at their lower ends, by turning which the wedges are forced upward,
and the segments B being prevented from rising by the top plate E, are
forced inward till their surfaces are brought in proper proximity to the
spindle.2_]
It is evident that by raising and lowering these wedges, as
circumstances require, the spindle can be adjusted with the greatest
accuracy.Lubrication is secured by placing a store of oil, in the chambers F, of
the segmental bearings B, from which it is fed, as wanted, through the
apertures G, to the bearing surfaces of the spindle and bush.Lastly,
the exclusion of dust and grit is secured by forming a chamber H, upon
the top plate of the bush, with an annular cap which shuts down over it,
and encloses the spindle, in which chamber is placed packing yarn or
other suitable material to intercept all extraneous material of this
character.The top plate is bolted down to the external portion of the bush, and
the whole enclosed, as shown in Fig.All experienced millers are aware that the attainment of the above
objects by a simple device is a very desirable achievement.By the use
of this improvement the adjustment can be readily and accurately made,
and the wear of the spindle is reduced to a minimum.We can fit any size spindle from 3½ to 5 inches diameter, and have
three sizes of bushes, 7½, 8½ and 9½ inches square.In ordering
bushes, all that is necessary is to state the diameter of neck of
spindle and size of eye in bed stone, and the proper size bush will be
shipped.Daniel went back to the bathroom.We have some half dozen different patterns of bushes ranging in price
from $2 to $20--some having three and some four followers for wood or
metal.[Illustration]
These engravings illustrate the style of hand wheel and screw with cap
and washer that we make and furnish with our combined husk mills, and
when ordered we send them with the irons needed with mill stones.The
figure on the right shows the hand wheel, screw cap and washer in
position when ready for operation.The wrought iron screw is cut in a
lathe and is what is termed a square thread.The wheel cap and washer
are all turned and polished, making a good looking, durable fixture, as
well as an accurate means of adjusting the stone.[Illustration]
This shows our pattern for arched bridge pot and lighter lever for
geared mills or when an elevated step is wanted.The part holding the
steel on which spindle rests, is contained in a central lifting chamber,
which is turned to fit the body of the arch, like a piston, thus
allowing a perfect perpendicular movement without any liability to vary
from its true position; the heavy set-screw at the rear end of the lever
is to admit of more adjustment; the lever can be moved around at most
any required angle without interfering with any part of the step.We
provide means (not shown in this cut) to tram the spindle by screws
placed in the central lift part of the step, when desired.Of these we have various styles, some sufficiently heavy for a six foot
mill stone, and to tram by screws.The centre lift part is constructed
in same style as the arch-step described above.We have patterns of all
lengths of lighter levers, as shown under head of Lighter Levers, which
fit over this style of step in same manner as shown, excepting we
provide an independent rest for the rear end of the lever and screw for
regulating it.This makes a very desirable rig for the lower end of mill
spindles in any mill, and are fast taking the place of all others.It
obviates the cutting of the bridge-tree or timber on which it rests.The steel on which the spindle-toe rests and presses sidewise in running
is constructed in various ways.In some situations we provide a flat
plate, below for taking the downward pressure, and above it a heavy
steel ring supported a little above to allow a chamber for the flow of
oil around the very extreme lower end of the steel spindle toe.Daniel went to the garden.This
chamber is free to be supplied with oil from the upper receptacle
through holes provided for the purpose.A bearing made with a hardened
steel plate below and a ring of good anti-friction metal around the
spindle-toe is the most desirable when properly constructed and of
suitable metals.John went back to the garden.Of all the various styles and sizes we are better prepared to make than
any other establishment we know of in the United States.We keep on hand
large quantities of the material of which they are made so that it may
be thoroughly seasoned before use.Their construction is as follows: the
tops are made of double-thickness lapped and tongued and screwed
together.The body is made of pine staves, worked on a double-headed
tongueing and grooving machine made for this purpose, with their
mandrels in radius positions to make a close fitting joint for any size
we choose to make; the outside bands are of black walnut, under which we
place neat iron bands, one at the base and one near the top, under the
projecting curb or top.For protecting the wood from being affected, we
coat the inside with white lead paint, and give the outside three coats
of good varnish.In the preparation to ship them and keep every part
from the liability of damaging in the least, we make a complete
protection of a light frame work and circle pieces surrounding the
whole.When the hopper frame and feed rig is ordered we place them
inside.This not only makes a strong and durable cover to the
mill-stone, but one that for style of finish and attractive appearance
pleases all.John travelled to the bedroom.Of these we make some half a dozen kinds, differing somewhat in
construction and appearance, some of which are shown in the accompanying
cuts.Mary went to the kitchen.1 is of the style known as “the glass globe tripod.” The
globe is made of the best clear flint glass from one-fourth to one-half
inch in thickness.The iron frame can be lifted from its bearings on the
curb at any time.Some are imitations—necessarily weak—of the verse of several men in
whose writings he has found a good deal of innocent pleasure.The
others, he fears, are more or less original.PRELIMINARY REBUKE
_Don't shoot the pianist; he's doing his best._
Gesundheit!Unto an Anvilfest you're bid;
It took a Lot of Hammering,
To build Old Cheops' Pyramid!Ventures _into_ Verse
✿ ✿ BY HENRY L. MENCKEN ✿ ✿
TO R.[1]
Prophet of brawn and bravery!You have made us kneel to a God of Steel,
And to fear his church's ban;
You have taught the song that the bullet sings—
The knell and the crowning ode of kings;
The ne'er denied appeal!You have made us dream of a God of Steam,
And have shown what his worship means
In the clanking rod and the whirring wheel
A life and a soul your songs reveal,
And power and might supreme.Singer of those who bow
To the earthen clods that they call their gods
And with god-like fees endow;
You have shown that these heed not the suppliant's plea,
Nor the prayers of the priest and devotee,
Nor the vestal's futile vow.Singer, we ask what we cannot learn
From our wise men and our schools;
Will our offered slain from our gods obtain
But the old reward of fools?Will our man-made gods be like their kind?If we bow to a clod of clay enshrined
Will we pray our prayers in vain?-----
Footnote 1:
Copyright, 1899, by Dodd, Mead & Co.THE SONG OF THE OLDEN TIME
Powder and shot now fight our fights
And we meet our foes no more,
As face to face our fathers fought
In the brave old days of yore;
To the thirteen inch and the needle gun,
To the she-cat four-point-three
We look for help when the war-dogs yelp
And the foe comes o'er the sea!for the days of the olden time,
When a fight was a fight of men!When lance broke lance and arm met arm—
There were no cowards then;
Sing ho!for the fight of the olden time,
When the muscles swelled in strain,
As the steel found rest in a brave man'sSandra moved to the hallway. |
garden | Where is John? | John went back to the garden.A fight was a fight in the olden time—
Sing ho, for the days bygone!—
And a strong right arm was the luckiest charm,
When the foe came marching on!for the days of the olden time,
When a fight was a fight of men!When lance broke lance and arm met arm—
There were no cowards then!for the fight of the olden time,
When the muscles swelled in strain,
As the steel found rest in a brave man's breast
And the axe in a brave man's brain!_
THE SPANISH MAIN
Between the tangle of the palms,
There gleaming, like a star-strewn plain,
All smiling, lies the sea of calms,
And calls to us to fare amain;
And calls us, as with smile and gem,
She called that bold, upstanding brood,
Whose bones, when she had done with them,
Upon her shores she strewed.Between the tangle of the palms,
By day the gleam is on the swell,
And drifting zephyrs, bearing balms,
Her tales of joy and riches tell,
And when the winds of night are free
Long, glimmering ripples wander by
As if the stars where in the sea,
Instead of in the sky.And they went forth in ships of war
Girt up in all foolhardiness,
To take their toll from out her store,
Beguiled and snared by her caress;
And we go forth in cargo ships
To wrest her treasures bloodlessly,
And buy the nectar from her lips,
Our fairy goddess, she!Where once their galleons blundered by
Our cargo ships are on their way,
And where their galleons rotting lie,
Our cargo ships are wrecked today.For ever, 'till the world is done,
And all good merchantmen go down,
And dies the wind, as pales the sun,
Her smile will mask her frown.[Illustration]
THE TRANSPORT GEN'RAL FERGUSON[2]
The transport Gen'ral Ferguson, she left the Golden Gate,
With a thousand rookies sweatin' in her hold;
An' the sergeants drove an' drilled them, an' the sun it nearly killed
them,—
Till they learned to do whatever they were told.The transport Gen'ral Ferguson, she lay at Honolu',
An' the rookies went ashore an' roughed the town,
So the sergeants they corralled them, and with butt and barrel quelled
them,—
An' they limped aboard an' set to fryin' brown.Sandra went back to the bedroom.The transport Gen'ral Ferguson, she steamed to-ward the south,
And the rookies sweated morning, noon and night;
'Till the lookout sighted land, and they cheered each grain o' sand,—
For their blood was boilin' over for a fight.The transport Gen'ral Ferguson, she tied up at the dock,
An' each rookie lugged his gun an' kit ashore,
An' a train it come and took 'em where the tropic sun could cook 'em,—
An' the sergeants they could talk to them of war.The transport Gen'ral Ferguson, she had her bottom scraped,
For the first part of her labor it was done,
An' the rookies chased the Tagals and the Tagals they escaped,—
An' the rookies set and sweated in the sun.The transport Gen'ral Ferguson, she loafed around awhile,
An' the rookies they was soldier boys by now,
For it don't take long to teach 'em—where the Tagal lead can reach
'em—
All about the which and why and when and how.The transport Gen'ral Ferguson, she headed home again,
With a thousand heavy coffins in her hold;
They were soldered up and stenciled, they were numbered and blue
penciled,—
And the rookies lay inside 'em stiff and cold.The transport Gen'ral Ferguson, she reached the Golden Gate,
An' the derrick dumped her cargo on the shore;
In a pyramid they piled it—and her manifest they filed it,
In a pigeon-hole with half a hundred more.The transport Gen'ral Ferguson, she travels up and down,
A-haulin' rookies to and from the war;
Outward-bound they sweat in Kharki; homeward bound they come in lead
And they wonder what they've got to do it for.The transport Gen'ral Ferguson, she's owned by Uncle Sam,
An' maybe Uncle Sam could tell 'em why,
But he don't—and so he takes 'em out to fight, and sweat, and swear,
An' brings them home for plantin' when they die.-----
Footnote 2:
Copyright, 1902, by the _Life_ Publishing Company.A WAR SONG
The wounded bird to its blasted nest,
(Sing ho!When the sun of its life veers o'er to the West,
(Sing ho!The wounded fox to its cave in the hill,
And the blood-dyed wolf to the snow-waste chill,
And the mangled elk to the wild-wood rill,
(Sing ho!The nest-queen harks to her master's hurts,
(Sing ho!And the she-fox busies with woodland worts,
(Sing ho!The she-wolf staunches the warm red flood,
And the doe is besmeared with the spurting blood,
For 'tis ever the weak that must help the strong,
Though they have no part in the triumph song,
And their glory is brief as their work is long—
(Sing ho![Illustration]
FAITH
The Gawd that guided Moses
Acrost the desert sand,
The Gawd that unter Joner
Put out a helping hand,
The Gawd that saved these famous men
From death on land an' sea,
Can spare a minute now an' then
To take a peep at you an' me.The Gawd of Ol' Man Adam
An' Father Abraham,
Of Joshua an' Isaiah,
Of lion an' of lamb,
Of kings, an' queens, an' potentates,
An' chaps of pedigree,
Wont put a bar acrost the Gate
When Gabr'el toots fer you an' me.The Gawd that made the ocean
An' painted up the sky,
The Gawd that sets us livin'
An' takes us when we die,
Is just the same to ev'ry man,
Of high or low degree,
An' no one's better treated than
Poor little you and little me.THE BALLAD OF SHIPS IN HARBOR
_Clatter of shears and derrick,
Rattle of box and bale,
The ships of the earth are at their docks,
Back from the world-round trail—
Back from the wild waste northward,
Back from the wind and the lea,
Back from the ports of East and West,
Back from the under sea._
Here is a bark from Rio,
Back—and away she steals!Here, from her trip, is a clipper ship
That showed the sea her heels—
South to the Gallapagos,
Down, due south, to the Horn,
And up, by the Windward Passage way,
On the breath of the balm-wind borne.There, standing down the channel,
With a smoke wake o'er her rail,
Is a ship that goes to Zanzibar
Along the world-round trail,
'Ere seven suns have kissed her
She may pound on Quoddy Head—
A surf-tossed speck of melting wreck,
Deep-freighted with her dead.And see that gaunt Norwegian,
Greasy, grimy and black—
She sails today for Yeddo Bay;
Who knows but she comes not back?And there is a low decked Briton,
And yonder a white-winged Dane—
Oh, a song for the ships that put to sea
And come not back again!_Clatter of shears and derrick,
Rattle of box and bale,
The ships of the earth are home today,
Tomorrow they shall sail;
Cleared for the dawn and the sunset,
Cleared for the wind and the lea;
World-round and back, by the olden track—
Playthings of the sea._
[Illustration]
THE ORF'CER BOY
“He was a gran' bhoy!”—_Mulvaney._
Now 'e aren't got no whiskers
An' 'e's only five foot 'igh,
(All the same 'e is a' orf'cer hof the Queen!)Oh, 'is voice is like a loidy's
An' 'e's so polite an' shy!(All the same 'e serves 'Er Majesty the Queen!)It is only 'bout a year ago 'e left 'is mother's knee,
It is only 'bout a month ago 'e come acrost the sea,
It is only 'bout a week that 'e 'as been aleadin' me.(That's the way ' |
kitchen | Where is John? | John went back to the garden.'E is such a little chappie,
Bein' only five foot 'igh,
That you'd wonder how 'is likes could serve the Queen;
You would think that when 'e 'eard the guns
'E'd just set down an' cry—
A-forgettin' ev'rythink about the Queen;
But by all that's good an' holy, you'd be extraord'ny wrong,
'Cos 'e doesn't like no singin' 'arf as good's the Gatlin's song,
An' 'e fights as though 'e'd been a-fightin' twenty times as long
As any other man that serves the Queen!If you'd seen him when we got to where
The Modder's deep an' wet,
You'd a-knowed 'e was a' orf'cer hof the Queen!There's a dozen of the enemy
That ain't forgot 'im yet—
For 'e run 'is sword clean through 'em for the Queen!Oh, 'e aren't much on whiskers an' 'e aren't much on 'eight,
An' a year or two ago 'e was a-learnin' for to write,
But you bet your soldier's shillin' 'e's the devil in a fight—
An' 'ed die to serve 'Er Majesty the Queen!THE FILIPINO MAIDEN
Her father we've chased in the jungle,
And her brother is full of our lead;
Her uncles and cousins
In yellow half-dozens
We've tried to induce to be dead;
And while we have shot at their shadows,
They've done the same favor for us—
But, by George, she's so sweet
That we'd rather be beat
Than to have her mixed up in the fuss.And whenever she smiles
Don't you think you are miles
From the rattle and roar of the wars?Would you take the three stars of a general
If she'd say “Leave the stars and take me?”
Oh!we've stolen sweet kisses from thousands of misses,
But hers are the sweetest that be.Her name may be Ahlo or Nina,
Or Zanez or Lalamaloo;
She may smoke the cigars
Of the chino bazars,
And prefer black maduros to you;
She may speak a wild six-cornered lingo,
And say that your Spanish is queer,
But you'll never mind this
When she gives you a kiss
And calls you her “zolshier poy dear.”
Oh!And whenever she smiles
Don't you think you are miles
From the rattle and roar of the wars?Would you take the three stars of a general
If she'd say “Leave the stars and take me?”
Oh!I've stolen sweet kisses from thousands of misses,
But her's are the sweetest for me![Illustration]
THE VIOLET
As in the first pale flush of coming dawn
We see a promise of the glorious sun,
So in the violet's misty blue is drawn
A shadowy likeness of the days to be,
The days of cloudless skies and poesie,
When Winter's done.THE TIN-CLADS[3]
The small gunboats captured from the Spaniards and facetiously
called “tin-clads” by the men of the land forces, are of great value
in the offensive operations against the insurgents along the
coast.—[MANILLA DISPATCH]
_Their draft is a foot and a half,
And a knot and a half is their speed,
Their bows are as blunt as the stern of a punt
And their boilers are wonders of greed;
Their rudders are always on strike,
Their displacement is thirty-two tons,
They are armored with tin—to the dishpan they're kin—
But their Maxims are A number ones,
(Ask Aggie!)Their Maxims are murderous guns!_
When from out the towns and villages, and out the jungle, too,
We have chased the Filipinos on the run,
Toward the river swamps they foot it—towards the swamps we can't go
through—
And we're doubtful if we've lost the fight or won;
Then when all are safe in hiding in the slimy mud and reeds,
From the river 'cross the swamp we hear a sound;
It's the sputter and the rattle of the automatic feeds
On the tin-protected cruisers—how they pound—
(Sweet sound!)Hear their rattling Maxims pound, pound, pound!When the guns have done their work, and the Tagals come our way,
(I admit they much prefer us to the guns,)
Why, we finish up what's left—ten in every dozen lay
Dead as Noah, in the swampy pools and runs;
Then the Maxims stop their rattle and we know that midst the reeds,
Half a hundred Filipinos on the ground
Are a-looking at the sky, with a glassy, sightless eye,
And the other half—or most of them—are drowned.'Twas the tin-protected cruisers—How they pound!How their rattling Maxims pound, pound, pound!_Their draft is a foot and a half
And a knot and a half is their speed,
Their bows are as blunt as the stern of a punt,
And their engines are wonders, indeed.Their rudders are always on strike,
Their bunkers hold two or three tons,
They are armored with tin—to the meat-can they're kin—
'But their Maxims are A number ones,
(Ask Aggie!)Their Maxims are murderous guns;
(Go ask him!)Their Maxims are Death's younger sons._
-----
Footnote 3:
Copyright, 1900, by the W. W. Potter Co.Sandra went back to the bedroom.SEPTEMBER
A dash of scarlet in the dark'ning green,
A minor echo in the night-wind's wail,
And faint and low, the swirling boughs between,
The last, sad carol of the nightingale.[Illustration]
ARABESQUE
(_An English Version of an old Turkish Lyric._)
The tinkling sound of the camel's bell
Comes softly across the sand,
And the nightingale by the garden well
Still warbles his saraband,
But the night goes by and the dawn-winds blow
From the glimmering East and the Hills of Snow,
And I wait, sweetheart, I wait alone,
For a smile from thee, my own!e'er the gong of the muezzin
Peals forth for another day;
E'er its loveless, barren toil begin
But a smile from you I pray!But a smile from your soul-enslaving eyes,—
As brightly dark as the midnight skies,—
But a smile, I pray!sweetheart,
Awake!ESSAYS IN OLD FRENCH FORMS
[Illustration]
A BALLADE OF PROTEST[4]
(_To the address of Master Rudyard Kipling, Poetaster_)
For long, unjoyed, we've heard you sing
Of politics and army bills,
Of money-lust and cricketing,
Of clothes and fear and other things;
Meanwhile the palm-trees and the hills
Have lacked a bard to voice their lay;
Poet, ere time your lyre string stills,
Sing us again of Mandalay!Unsung the East lies glimmering,
Unsung the palm trees toss their frills,
Unsung the seas their splendors fling,
The while you prate of laws and tills.Each man his destiny fulfills;
Can it be yours to loose and stray;
In sophist garb to waste your quills?—
Sing us again of Mandalay!Sing us again in rhymes that ring,
In Master-Voice that lives and thrills.Sing us again of wind and wing,
Of temple bells and jungle thrills;
And if your Pegasus e'er wills
To lead you down some other way,
Go bind him in his olden thills—
Sing us again of Mandalay!Master, regard the plaint we bring,
And hearken to the prayer we pray.Lay down your law and sermoning—
Sing us again of Mandalay!-----
Footnote 4:
Copyright, 1902, by Dodd, Mead & Co.A FRIVOLOUS RONDEAU
“I co'd reherse
A lyric verse.”—_The Hesperides._
A lyric verse I'll make for you,
Fair damsel that the many woo,
'Twill be a sonnet on your fan—
That aid to love from quaint Japan—
And “true” will rhyme with “eyes of blue.”
Ah!me, if you but only knew
The toil of setting out to hew
From words—as I shall try to do—
A lyric verse.Fleet metric ghosts I must pursue,
And dim rhyme apparitions, too—
But yet, 'tis joyfully I scan,
And reckon rhymes and think and plan
For there's no cheaper present than
A lyric verse.Sandra went to the bathroom.THE RHYMES OF MISTRESS DOROTHY
_Roundel_—
Bemauled by ev'ry hurrying churl
And deafened by the city's brawl,
A helm-less craft I helpless swirl
Adown the street.With battered hat I trip and sprawl
And like a toy tee-to-tum swirl,
To end my strugglings with a fall—
But what care I for knock and whirl?—
Egad!I heed them not at all;
For here comes Dolly—sweetheart girl!—
John went back to the kitchen. |
kitchen | Where is Daniel? | _Triolet_—
The light that lies in Dolly's eyes
Is sun and moon and stars to me;
It dims the splendor of the skies—
The light that lies in Dolly's eyes—
And me-ward shining, testifies
That Dolly's mine, fore'er to be—
The light that lies in Dolly's eyes
Is sun and moon and stars to me!_Roundelay_—
Oh, Dolly is my treasury—
What more of wealth could I desire?Her lips are rubies set for me,
And there between (sweet property!)A string of pearls to smiles conspire;
With Dolly as my treasury,
What more of wealth could I desire?John went back to the garden.And when have men of alchemy
Yet dreamed of gems like those I see
In Dolly's eyes, as flashing fire,
They bid the envious world admire?—
Oh, Dolly is my treasury!And then her hair!—there cannot be
Such gold beyond the Purple Sea
As this of mine—unpriced and free!Oh, Dolly is my treasury,
My sweetheart and my heart's desire![Illustration]
A FEW LINES
Few roses like your cheeks are red,
Few lilies like your brow are fair;
Few vassals like your slave are led,
Few roses like your cheeks are red,
Few dangers like your frown I dread;
Few rubies to your lips compare,
Few roses like your cheeks are red,
Few lilies like your brow are fair.A RONDEAU OF TWO HOURS
“It's a cinch.”—_Plato._
From four to six milady fair
Is chic and sweet and debonair,
For then it is, with smiles and tea,
She fills the chappy mob with glee
(The jays but come to drink and stare).A rose is nestled in her hair,
Like Cupid lurking in his lair—
Few of the jays remain heart free
From four to six.Oh let them come—I would not care
If all the men on earth were there;
For when they go she smiles on me,
And, just because she loves me, she
Makes all the ringers take their share
From four to six.AN ANTE-CHRISTMAS RONDEAU
“'Tis a sad story, mates.”—_Marie Corelli._
It's up to me—the winds are chill
And snow clouds drift from o'er the hill,
At dawn the rime is on the grass,
At five o'clock we light the gas,
And long gone is the daffodil.Jack Frost draws flowers upon the glass
And blasts the growing ones—alas!Whene'er he comes to scar and kill,
It's up to me.Sandra went back to the bedroom.I run not in the croaker class,
But when I see the autumn pass,
Of crushing woes I have my fill—
To buy a Christmas gift for Jill
A horde of gold I must amass—
It's up to me.[Illustration]
ROUNDEL
If love were all and we could cheat
All gods but Cupid of their due,
Our joy in life would be complete.We'd only live that we might woo,
(Instead, as now, that we might eat,)
And ev'ry lover would be true,—
If love were all.Yet, if we found our bread and meat
In kisses it would please but few,
Soon life would grow a cloying sweet,
If love were all.IN VAUDEVILLE
In vaudeville the elder jest
Remains the one that's loved the best;
For 'tis the custom of the stage
To venerate and honor age
And look upon the old as blest.Originality's a pest
That artist's labor hard to best—
Conservatism is the rage
In vaudeville.The artist's arms are here expressed:
A slapstick argent as a crest
(It is an ancient heritage),
A seltzer siphon gules—the wage
Of newness is a lengthy rest
In vaudeville.Sandra went to the bathroom.John went back to the kitchen.Mary went back to the hallway.THE RONDEAU OF RICHES
If I were rich and had a store
Of gold doubloons and louis d'or—
A treasure for a pirate crew—
Then I would spend it all for you—
My heart's delight and conqueror!About your feet upon the floor,
Ten thousand rubies I would pour—
Regardless of expense, I'd woo
If I were rich.But as I'm not, I can but soar
Mid fancy's heights and ponder o'er
The things that I would like to do;
And as I pass them in review
It strikes me that you'd love me more
If I were rich.IN EATING SOUP
In eating soup, it's always well
To make an effort to excel
The unregenerate who sop
With bread the last surviving drop
As if to them but one befell.And if it burn you do not yell,
Or stamp or storm or say “Oh!——well!”—
From social grandeur you may flop
In eating soup.And if the appetizing smell
Upon you cast a witch's spell,
To drain your plate pray do not stop,
And please, I pray you, do not slop!A gurgling sound's a social knell
In eating soup.[Illustration]
LOVE AND THE ROSE
The thorn lives but to shield the rose;
Coquetry may but shelter love!The thorn lives but to shield the rose;
Though blood from many a thorn wound flows
I'll pluck the rose that blows above—
The thorn lives but to shield the rose,
Coquetry may but shelter love!Love me more or not at all,
Half a rose is less than none;
Hear the wretch you hold in thrall!Dilletante love will pall,
I would have you wholly won;—
Love me more or not at all;
Half a rose is less than none!A RONDEAU OF STATESMANSHIP
In politics it's funny how
A man may tell you one thing now
And say tomorrow that he meant
To voice a different sentiment
And vow a very different vow.Daniel travelled to the kitchen.The writ and spoken laws allow
Each individual to endow
His words with underground intent
In politics.Thus he who leads in verbal prow-
Ness sports the laurel on his brow—
So if you wish to represent
The acme of the eminent,
Learning lying ere you make your bow
In politics.SONGS _of_ THE CITY
[Illustration]
|
office | Where is Sandra? | Another day of toil and grief and pain;
Life surely seems not sweet to such as these!Yet they live toiling that they may but gain
The right to life and all life's miseries.II—_Madrigal_
Ah!what were all the running brooks
From ocean-side to ocean-side,
And what were all the chattering wrens
That wake the wood with song,
And what were all the roses red
In all the flowery meadows wide,
And what were all the fairy clouds
That 'cross the heavens throng—
And what were all the joys that bide
In meadow, wood and down,
To me, if I were at your side
Within the joyless town?III—_Within the City Gates_
We can but dream of murmuring rills
Mad racing down the wooded hills,
Of meadow flowers and balmy days
When robin sings his amorous lays;
And lost among the city's ways,
To us it is not given to gaze
In wonder as the morning haze
Lifts from the sea of daffodils,—
Of all but those on window-sills
We can but dream.IV—_April_
At dawn a gay gallant comes to the eaves
And trills a song unto his lady fair,
And then, above the reach of boyish thieves,
A building nest sways in the balmy air;
One day a flower upon a window sill
Puts forth a bud, and as its beauty grows
The sun—gay prodigal!—with life-light glows,
The while he reads the doom of storms and snows;
And then—and then—there comes the springtime's thrill!John went back to the garden.V—_The Coming of Winter_
A chill, damp west wind and a heavy sky,
With clouds that merge in one gray, darkling sea,
The last red leaves of autumn flutter by,
Wrest from the dead twigs of the street-side tree;
And then there comes an eddying cloud of white,
First dim, then blotting everything below;
Up to the eaves the sparrows haste in flight—
And thus upon the town descends the snow.VI—_The Snow_
A song of birds adown a mine's dark galleries,
A scent of roses'mid a waste of moor and fen,
A gush of sparkling waters from the desert sands,—
So comes the snow upon the town, an alien.VII—_Nocturne_
How like a warrior on the battlefield
The city sleeps, with brain awake, and eyes
That know no closing.Ere the first star dies
It rises from its slumber, and with shield
In hand, full ready for the fray,
Goes forth to meet the day.-----
Footnote 5:
Copyright, 1899, by Warren F. Kellogg.Sandra went back to the bedroom.OTHER VERSES
[Illustration]
A MADRIGAL
How can I choose but love you,
Maid of the witching smile?Your eyes are as blue as the skies above you;
How can I choose but love you, love you,
You and your witching smile?Sandra went to the bathroom.For the red of your lips is the red of the rose,
And the white of your brows is the white of the snows,
And the gold of your hair is the splendor that glows
When the sun gilds the east at morn.And the blue of your eyes
Is the blue of the skies
Of an orient day new-born;
And your smile has a charm that is balm to the soul,
And your pa has a bar'l and a many-plunk roll,
So how can I choose but love you, love you,
Love you, love you, love you?A BALLAD OF LOOKING
He looked into her eyes, and there he saw
No trace of that bright gleam which poets say
Comes from the faery orb of love's sweet day,
No blushing coyness causes her to withdraw
Her gaze from his.He looked and yet he knew
No joy, no whirling numbness of the brain,
No quickening heart-beat.Then he looked again,
And once again, unblushing, she looked too.He looked into her eyes—with interest he
Stared at them through a magnifying prism.John went back to the kitchen.For he was but an oculist, and she
Was being treated for astigmatism.[Illustration]
WHEN THE PIPE GOES OUT
A maiden's heart,
And sighs profuse,
A father's foot,
And—what's the use?"The Shining One makes no bargains," answered Constans, sternly, in
virtue of his assumed office."Submit yourself to his will, and then
perchance our lord may deign to hear.He grants his favors to his
obedient children; he sells them to none.""But, my father----"
"Our ways part here," said Constans, decidedly, for they had now reached
the north gate of the citadel and he was beginning to feel more and more
uncomfortable under those sharp eyes."Farewell, my son, and remember
that penitence precedes healing, whether of soul or of body."Constans passed on, and the man stood looking after him with a certain
malevolent curiosity."Now so surely as I am Kurt, the Knacker, there is more in this
priestling than meets the eye," he muttered."Is a blithe young chap,
with such a pair of shoulders, to willingly prefer a black robe to a
velvet jacket, a priest's empire over a score of silly women to a seat
in a trooper's saddle, and the whole green world from which to pick and
choose his pleasures?Mary went back to the hallway.it isn't reasonable, and if this knee of mine
will permit me to hobble into the presence of the Shining One some fine
morning I will have another guess at the riddle."To-morrow, now, is Friday," he continued, thoughtfully, "and my little
doves have been teasing me to give them an outing.There is the
certainty of a smile or even a kiss from the black-browed Nanna to
recompense my good-nature, and a possible secret hanging in the wind.Finally, the off chance that the Shining One is not so hopelessly out of
fashion as we have been led to think.In this backsliding age he should
appreciate the honor of my attendance in person, to say nothing of the
venison and the wine."Kurt, the Knacker, laughed silently under his
curtain of black beard, and then stumped over to a bench in the gateway,
sheltered from the wind and open to the sun.There he sat him down and
proceeded to enjoy the pleasures of social converse with the warders on
guard, an occupation pleasingly diversified by an occasional black-jack
of ale and innumerable pipefuls of Kinnectikut shag.A highly respected
man among his fellow-citizens was Kurt, the Knacker.* * * * *
It was the hour of the weekly sacrifice, and Prosper, the priest, stood
before the altar of the Shining One, performing the uncouth and ofttimes
wholly meaningless ritual of his office.Daniel travelled to the kitchen.Constans, in his capacity of
acolyte, stood on the right of the altar.He felt out of place and
somewhat ridiculous; he was conscious that he performed his
genuflections and posturing awkwardly, and there were all these women
watching him.Especially the two in the front row, accompanied by the
limping scoundrel to whom he had yesterday lent his arm on the Palace
Road.The one who seemed the elder of the two scanned him with bold,
black eyes, unaffectedly amused by his clumsiness; the other, whose face
was hidden by a veil, looked at him but once or twice, yet Constans felt
sure that she, too, was laughing at him.His position was becoming an
intolerable one.Would the farce never come to an end?Sandra went back to the bedroom.Now the service was over, and one by one the worshippers withdrew.Last
of all the two women, escorted by the man who called himself Kurt, the
Knacker.They passed within arm's-length of Constans, but he made as
though to turn his head away; youth is proverbially sensitive to
ridicule.He noticed, however, that the pilgrimage had not been of
marked benefit to the lame man, for he limped as badly as ever.Then
their eyes met, and Constans felt somewhat uncomfortable at being
favored with a particularly sour smile of recognition.It was evident that these people were not true
worshippers; it was mere curiosity that had brought them before the
gates of the Shining One, and now that they had seen the show they were
doubtless satisfied.Let them depart whence they came; it was but a
passing incident.The snow that covered the ground a week before had nearly disappeared
under the influence of a three-days' warm rain.This morning had given
promise of even more springlike weather, but as the day wore on it had
grown cloudy and the air had turned chill.It had begun to snow again
shortly before the hour of service, and so fast had the flakes come down
that the fall was already over an inch in depth.Constans, turning the
corner into the side-street to get a more extended view of the eastern
sky, suddenly halted to contemplate a curious appearing mark in the pure
white expanse--the imprint of a woman's foot.It was an exquisitely moulded thing; even the slender arch of the instep
had been preserved in unbroken line and curve, and yet Constans wondered
vaguely why it should seem so beautiful to him.He put out his own foot
and compared the two, laughed, half understood, and was silent.He went on a little farther, following the successive footprints as they
led down the street.Once his heavy boot half obliterated one of the
delicately marked prints; he backed quickly away, as though his
clumsiness had been an actual offence.Then he knit his brows over the
absurdity of the affair and stopped to consider.Sophistry suggested that it might be the missing girl, Esmay, and
certainly she who had walked here was the veiled woman of the temple
worshippers; there were the footprints, broader and heavier in
appearance, of her companion, and the halting progress of the
black-chapped ruffian, who had accompanied them, was also plainly
visible.Constans followed the trail at a smart pace, for it was snowing
harder than ever, and it would not take long to obliterate the marks.But three blocks farther on the three sets of footprints suddenly turned
at right angles to the sidewalk and disappeared.Sandra went to the office.A mystery whose solution should have been apparent at once from the
wheel-tracks parallel with the curb, but for a minute or two Constans
did not realize their true nature.The ordinary vehicle in use among
the House People was a springless cart, whose wheels were simply
sections of an elm-tree butt, and these primitive constructions creaked
horribly upon their axles, unless liberally greased, and left a track
six inches or more in width.It is not surprising, then, that Constans
was momentarily puzzled by the narrow, delicately lined marks that
betokened the passage of a real carriage.For while Doom contained many
examples of the ancient coach-builder's skill, they were not in general
use.The old Dom Gillian occasionally employed a carriage in taking the
air--at least, so Ulick had told him, but Constans had never seen it.For all that the check was but a momentary one; his wits had been
sharpened by use, and now they helped him to the truth.A course of a mile or more and he was entering a poorer part of the city
a little north of east and close to the shore of the Lesser river.It
was a region of tenement dwellings, |
kitchen | Where is Sandra? | And yet it would have marked the subtlety of the man
to have set his secret here, where it would have been at once so easily
seen and overlooked.Every labyrinth has its clew, but the fugitive
walks safely in a crowd.The wheel-tracks turned sharply to the right, going straight down a side
street to the river-front.On the left were the ruins of one of the
ancient plants for the manufacture of illuminating gas.The yard was
but a wilderness of rusty iron tanks and fallen bricks; surely there
was nothing here to interest.On the right, however, there was an enclosed area that comprised the
greater part of the block.John went back to the garden.It was separated from the highway by a brick
wall ten feet in height, and the general level of the ground was
considerably higher than that of the street.Constans could see trees
growing and the ruins of a pergola and trellises for fruit; it actually
looked like a garden, and through the naked branches of the trees there
gleamed the white stuccoed walls of a dwelling-house, with a flat roof,
surmounted by a cupola.The estate, for it possessed certain pretensions
to that title, looked as though it had been transported from some more
favored region and set down all in a piece among these hideous iron
tanks and dingy, cliff-like factories.Constans quickened his pace; his imagination was on fire.Yes, there was
a gateway, and surely the carriage had passed through but a few minutes
before.Constans halted at the barrier and studied it attentively.It
was snowing hard now, and he ran but small risk of being observed from
the house.The doors of the driveway were of heavy planking studded with
innumerable bands and rivets, and they were suspended between massive
brick piers.A structure of light open iron-work spanned the gateway and
supported a central lantern, with a coat of arms immediately below it.The device upon the shield was three roundels in chief and the crest, an
arm holding a hammer.In the left wing of the gate proper a small door had been cut for
pedestrian use.Sandra went back to the bedroom.It had been painted a dark green, the knocker and
door-plate being of brass.Constans by dint of rubbing away some of the
verdigris succeeded in making out the inscription.It read:
ARCADIA HOUSE
RICHARD VAN DUYNE
1803
Actuated by a daring impulse he lifted the knocker and let it fall.The
rat-tat sounded hollowly, but there was no response.Constans looked
longingly at the wall, but without some special appliance, such as a
notched pole or grappling-hooks, it was unscalable.There were no signs
of life to be seen in or about the house.Not a light in any of the
windows or curl of smoke from a chimney-pot.The wheel-tracks leading
through the gateway had already become obliterated by the rapidly
falling snow; the silence was profound.The whole adventure seemed to be
vanishing into thin air; the wheel-tracks having led him into this land
of folly had disappeared after the accustomed fashion of those mocking
spirits whose delight is in leading the unwary traveller astray.Involuntarily, Constans glanced over his shoulder; he almost expected to
see some shadowy bulk stealing up behind him preparing to make its
spring.Yet as he retraced his steps to the temple of the Shining One he
resolved that he would pay another visit to Arcadia House."To-morrow,"
thought Constans, "I may find some one to answer the door."XV
A MAN AND A MAID
In spite of that brave "to-morrow," it was several days before Constans
found opportunity to revisit Arcadia House.A misstep upon an icy
flag-stone had resulted in a sprained ankle, and for that there was no
remedy but patience.Here was a fascinating problem to be
solved, and, yielding to importunity, Prosper was finally induced to
talk freely of the sacred mysteries of the Shining One.He was even
persuaded to put the machinery in operation, outside the canonical
hours, in order that Constans might test the theories derived from his
books.Constans took a "live" wire and allowed its free end to hang in close
proximity to a leaden water-pipe.Then he placed a piece of oily rag
near by and saw it answer his expectation by bursting into flame.He
looked triumphantly around at Prosper, to whom he had previously
explained the nature of the experiment."Would the fire descend wherever the wire led?""Under the same conditions, of
course--a broken circuit and inflammable material close at hand."Sandra went to the bathroom."It is wonderful," he said, grudgingly, "but it
proves nothing.Is your viewless, formless electricity anything more or
anything less than my god?Is it the spirit of the
lightning-cloud that thrills in this little wire, or have you learned
how to bottle fire and thunder, even as a House-dweller who fills his
goat-skins with apple-wine?Is the Shining One at once so great and so
small that we can be both his servants and his lords?"Constans would not be drawn into an argument, being as little versed in
theological subtleties as was the old priest in scientific terminology.But he noticed that Prosper was studying the subject after his own
fashion.John went back to the kitchen.Nearly every night now he would start up the machinery and
spend hours in watching the revolutions of the giant dynamo.It was not
unusual for Constans to fall to sleep, lulled by the monotonous humming
of the vibratory motor and awake to find the machinery still in motion.It was within this week that the _Black Swan_ returned to port.On the
fourth day after the accident to his ankle Constans managed to hobble to
one of his posts of observation, and he discovered immediately that the
galley was lying at her accustomed pier.to have
Quinton Edge return at this precise time.that this fair field
should be closed before he had had a chance to explore it.Well, it was
fortune, and he must accept it; he was all the more eager now to make a
second call at Arcadia House.It was a dull, thawy afternoon when Constans found himself standing
again before the closed door that bore the name of the inhospitable Mr.He had brought with him a rope ladder, provided with
grappling-hooks, and the mere scaling of the barrier should not present
any great difficulty.It would be well, however, to reconnoitre a little
further before he attempted it.Following the wall down to the river, he saw that it was continued to
the very edge of the water, where it joined a solidly constructed
sea-wall.There were the remains of a wooden pier running out from the
end of the street proper, and Constans adventured upon its worm-eaten
timbers, intent on obtaining a more extended view of this singular
domain of Arcadia House.A large and somewhat imposing structure it was, albeit of a curiously
composite order of architecture.Originally, it must have been a villa of the true Dutch type built of
stuccoed brick, with many-gabled roof and small-paned, deeply embrasured
windows.Mary went back to the hallway.A subsequent proprietor had enlarged its ground-plan, added an
upper story, and changed the roof to one of flat pitch crowned by a
hideous cupola.Still a third meddler had tried to make it over into a
colonial homestead by painting the stucco white and joining on an
enormous columned porch.The final result could hardly have been
otherwise than an artistic monstrosity, yet the old house had acquired
that certain unanalyzable dignity which time confers, and the gentle
fingers of the years had softened down insistent angles and smoothed out
unlovely curves.It was a house with a soul, for men had lived and died,
rejoiced and suffered within its walls.A house--and such a house!--set in its own garden amid the incongruous
surroundings of tenement buildings and malodorous gas-works.How to
account for it, what theory could be invented to reconcile facts so
discordant?In reality, the explanation was simple enough; as between
the house and its environment, the former had all the rights of prior
possession.In the early days of the settlement of the city the banks of
the Lesser river had been a favorite place of residence for well-to-do
burghers and merchants.But foot by foot the muddy tide of trade and
utilitarianism had risen about these green water-side Edens; one by one
their quiet-loving owners had been forced farther afield.Yet now and then the standard of rebellion had been raised; here and
there might be found a Dutchman as stiff-necked as the fate that he
defied.His father and his father's father had lived here upon the
Lesser river, and nothing short of a cataclysm of nature should avail to
budge him.The commissioners might cut up his cabbage-patch into
building sites and reduce his garden to the limits of a city block, but
they could not touch his beloved Arcadia House, with its white-porticoed
piazza that gave upon the swirl and toss of the river--a delectable spot
on a hot June morning.Let them lower their accursed streets to their
thrice-accursed grade; it would but leave him high and dry in his
green-embowered island, secure of contamination to his fruit trees from
unspeakable gas and sewer pipes.A ten-foot brick wall, with its top set
with broken bottles, would defend his quinces and apricots from the
incursion of the street Arabs, and wind and sky were as free as ever.Yes, he would hold his own against these vandals of commercialism,
while one brick of Arcadia House remained upon another.So, let us
fancy, quoth Mynheer van Duyne away back in _anno Domini_ 1803, and when
he died in 1850 or thereabouts, the estate, having but a moderate value
as city property goes, was allowed to remain in _statu quo_; the heirs
had ground-rents enough and to spare without it, and Arcadia House might
be considered a proper memorial of the ancient state and dignity of the
Van Duynes.But this is getting to be pure conjecture; let us return to
Constans and the facts as he saw them.The main house stood close to the river, there being but a strip of lawn
between the piazza and the top of the sea-wall.On the left, as Constans
faced, an enclosed vestibule led to a secondary structure, which
probably contained the domestic offices and servants' quarters.Daniel travelled to the kitchen.Still
farther on, and under the same continuous albeit slightly lower
roof-line, were the stables and cattle barns, the wood and other
storehouses forming the extreme left wing.In its day, Arcadia House had
been an eminently respectable and comfortable dwelling, and even now it
presented a tolerably good appearance; certainly it might be called
habitable.Constans, straining his eyes, for the afternoon was
advancing, thought he saw smoke ascending from one of the chimneys, and
this incited him to an actual invasion of the premises.He chose the southwestern corner of the block as being farthest removed
from the range of the house windows.A lucky throw made the grapples
fast, and it took but an instant to run up the rungs.There was no one
in sight, so Constans, shifting the ladder to the inner side, made the
descent quite at his ease, and found himself in a little plantation of
spruce-trees.The evergreens grew so thickly together that he had some difficulty in
forcing his way through them.Breaking free at last, he stepped out into
the open, and stood vis-a-vis with a girl who had been advancing, as it
were, to meet him.Constans knew instantly that this could be none other
than Mad Scarlett's daughter, and there, indeed, were the proofs--the
red-gold hair and the tawny eyes, just as Elena had described them in
her message and Ulick in his endless lover's rhapsodies.Sandra went back to the bedroom.She stood mute and wide-eyed before him, the color in her cheeks coming
and going like a flickering candle.Constans naturally concluded that
his appearance had frightened her.He retreated a step or two; he tried
to think of something to say that would reassure her.Perhaps he might
use Ulick's name by way of introduction.He ended by blurting out:
"Don't be afraid; I will go whenever you say."Her lips formed rather than uttered the warning, "Sh!"She listened
intently for a moment or two, but there was only the distant dripping of
water to be heard, the air being extraordinarily still and windless.she panted, and, clutching at her skirts, led the way to a
thatched pavilion some eighty yards distant, a storehouse, perhaps, or a
building once used as a farm office.Sandra went to the office.Constans tried to question, to
protest, but for the moment his will was as flax in the flame of her
resolution; he yielded and ran obediently at her side.Arrived at the little house, the girl pushed him bodily through the
doorway and entered herself, turning quickly to slip into place the
oaken bar that secured the door from the inside.Constans swelled with
indignation at this singular treatment.He was a man grown, not a truant
child to be led away by the ear for punishment.Yet she would not abate
one jot of her first advantage, and his anger melted under the quiet
serenity of her gaze; in spite of himself he let her have the first
word."Did you think I was afraid for myself?"she asked, with a slow smile
that made Constans's cheeks burn."You see, I remembered that Fangs and
Blazer are generally out by this time, a full hour before dark."They will track a man even over this half-melted
snow, and old Kurt has trained them to short work with trespassers."But then it would not have made any
difference.""I'm not sure about that, but still I should have
come.""Of course," she said, well pleased, for a woman delights in placing her
own valuation upon the courage of which a man speaks diffidently."I am Esmay," she announced, and paused a little doubtfully.Even the bracelet with the carbuncles, and how
you would not make up because I was a girl and knew no better?""It was a very foolish affair from beginning to end," said Constans,
loftily, intent upon disguising his embarrassment.Sandra went to the kitchen.[Illustration: SHE STOOD MUTE AND WIDE-EYED BEFORE HIM]
"Of course I knew you at once," she went on, meditatively."You were so
awkward in your ridiculous priest robes that morning in the temple of
the Shining One.Constans winced a trifle at this, but he could not think of anything to
say.She laughed again at the remembrance--provokingly."Why have you come to Arcadia House?"Constans hesitated, tried to avoid the real issue, and of course put
himself in the wrong.I had promised him----"
"Oh!"The look was doubly eloquent of the disappointment inherent in the
exclamation, and Constans thrilled under it.What delicious flattery in
this unexpected frankness!He made a step forward, but Esmay in her turn
drew back, her eyes hardened, and he stopped, abashed.It had been a sudden remembrance of her childish threat--"a woman...
and some day you will know what that means"--that had tempted her to the
rashness which she had so quickly regretted.For she had forgotten that
a proposition is generally provided with a corollary.If she had become
a woman he no less had grown to manhood, and that one forward step had
forced her to recognize the fact.She was silent, feeling a little
afraid and wondering at herself.Constans, in more evident discomfiture,
blundered on, obsessed by a vague sense of loyalty to his friend."Ulick is away--on the expedition to the southland.He was anxious that
you should be found, and I promised to do my best.demanded Esmay, with an entire absence of
enthusiasm.Daniel travelled to the hallway."This month, certainly; indeed, it may be any day now.""You must promise me that you will not tell him where I am or even that
you have seen me.""But--but----"
|
bathroom | Where is John? | Constans felt himself called upon to speak with some severity to this
unreasonable young person."You are giving a great deal of trouble to your friends," he said,
reprovingly.Sandra journeyed to the office."There was your mother and her message to your uncle Hugolin in Croye.""Yes, I know," she broke in."Then it was received--the message----?"She stopped, unable to go on; an indefinable emotion possessed her."My uncle has sent you to fetch me," she whispered.Constans had to answer her honestly, and was sorry."Messer Hugolin could not see his way to
anything.""Oh, it does not matter," she said, and so
indifferently that Constans was deceived."But you cannot stay here," he insisted--"here among the Doomsmen.""They are my father's people, and you have just told me that my uncle
Hugolin does not want me.""And what does Quinton Edge desire of you?""I do not know," she answered, returning his gaze fearlessly, whereof
Constans was glad, although he could not have told her why."It seems so, and my sister Nanna as well.But we have nothing of which
to complain, and doubtless our master will acquaint us with his pleasure
in good time.""It is always that way," said Constans, bitterly."His will against mine
at every turn; a rock upon which I beat with naked hands.""He is a strong man," answered Esmay, thoughtfully, "but I think I know
where his power lies.It is simply that neither his friends nor his
enemies are aware of how they stand with him."But Constans did not even notice that she was speaking; the remembrance
of his unfulfilled purpose seized and racked him.He had hated this man,
Quinton Edge, from that first moment in which their eyes had
clashed--ever and always.At first instinctively; then with reason
enough and to spare; and yet this small world still held them both.How
long were his hands to be tied?Once and again his enemy had stood
before him and had gone his way insolently triumphant.He might be now
in the house yonder, and Constans looked at it eagerly.A master
passion, primitive and crude, possessed him.The girl divined the hostile nature of the power which held him, and
instinctively she put forth her own strength against it.John moved to the bathroom.she said, and plucked him by the sleeve."I am going to trust you," she went on, quickly."The time may come when
I can no longer remain in safety at Arcadia House.When it does I will
let you know by displaying a white signal in the western window of the
cupola."I will come," he answered, albeit a little slowly and heavily as one
who seeks to find himself.Esmay opened the door and looked out.It was almost dark, and after
listening a moment she seemed satisfied.Very well, you need not be afraid of the dogs, for
when you see the signal I will arrange that they are kept in leash.And
now you had better go; they are surely unchained by this time, and any
moment may bring them ranging about.Good-bye, and remember your
promise."They walked along together until they came to the plantation of
spruce-trees.Constans could see that his ladder was still in place on
the wall; his path of retreat was open.He put out his hand, and her
slim, cool palm rested for a moment in his.She nodded, smiled, and left
him, going directly towards the house.Moved by an inexplicable impulse, Constans followed for a short
distance, keeping under the shelter of the trees.Then suddenly to him,
straining his eyes through the dusk, there appeared a second figure,
that of a woman, clothed wholly in white, hovering close upon the
retreating steps of the girl.Constans felt his knees loosen under him, the ancient superstitions
being still strong in his blood for all of his studies and new-found
philosophy."It is her sister Nanna," he muttered to himself, and knew that he lied
in saying it.The old wives' tales, at which he had shuddered in
boyhood, came crowding back upon him--grisly legends of vampire shapes
and of the phantoms, invariably feminine in form, who were said to
inhabit ruined places.A panic terror seized him as he watched the
apparition gliding so swiftly and noiselessly upon the unconscious girl.Yet he continued to run forward, stumbling and slipping on the
treacherous foothold of melting snow.Esmay had reached a side door of the main building; quite naturally she
entered and closed the door behind her, while the white-robed figure,
after hesitating a moment, walked to a far corner of the house and
disappeared.Out of the indefinite distance came the deep-throated bay
of a hound.Safely astride the wall coping he looked back.All was quiet in the
garden, and at that instant a light shone out at an upper window of the
house."She is safe," he told himself, and that was enough to know.As he walked slowly westward, the thought of Ulick came again to him.Had he really promised the girl that he would tell Ulick nothing?Ridiculous as it may appear, he could not remember.XVI
AS IN A LOOKING-GLASS
Arcadia House, while it certainly stood in need of the repairer's hand,
was by no means uninhabitable, a fact which spoke well for the honesty
of its old-time builders.Its oak beams, fastened together with
tree-nails instead of iron spikes, were still sound, and its brick
walls, unusually massive in construction, were without a crack.Most
important of all, the roof, shingled with the best cypress, remained
water-tight, and so protected the interior from the ruinous effects of
moisture.In outward appearance, however, Arcadia House had sadly
degenerated.The stucco that originally covered the outer walls had
fallen away here and there, leaving unsightly patches to vex the eye,
and in many of the windows the glazing had been destroyed either wholly
or in part.Some years before Quinton Edge had taken possession of this abandoned
Eden.The summers in the city were usually warm, and the Doomsmen were
in the habit of seeking the upper stories of the tall buildings for
relief, just as in the twentieth century people went to the mountains
for the heated term.Quinton Edge, having accidentally discovered
Arcadia House recognized its advantages as a summer residence, and he
had his own reasons for desiring the privacy that its secluded
situation afforded.He was satisfied with putting three or four of the
rooms into livable condition, and as for the rest it was only necessary
to repair the wall surrounding the grounds and stock the storehouses
with fuel and provisions to make of Arcadia House the proverbial castle.That it _was_ his castle was his own affair, and he had taken care that
only the fewest possible number should be in the secret.Old Kurt and a
couple of <DW64> slave women made up the ordinary domestic staff of the
establishment, and until the advent of Esmay and Nanna, some three
months before, Arcadia House had received no visitors.And he would be a
foolish man who called upon Quinton Edge without an invitation.Esmay, after parting from Constans, paused a moment at the side entrance
of the house.She wanted to look back, but a stronger instinct forbade
it; she opened the door and passed into the hall.It was a broad, low-ceilinged apartment, and served as a common
living-room to the master of Arcadia House and his guests.A few embers
burned on the hearth, and a solitary candle set in a wall-sconce strove
with its feeble glimmer against the full tide of silver moonshine that
poured in through the uncurtained windows facing on the river.Quinton
Edge himself was sitting at the corner of the fireplace smoking a
red-clay pipe with a reed stem.He rose as Esmay entered, detaining her
with a gesture as she would have passed him.The girl stopped and waited for him to continue.He considered a moment,
looking her over coolly.And indeed she made an attractive picture as
she stood there, the firelight glinting redly in her tawny eyes and her
cheeks incarnadined with excitement.Quinton Edge told himself that he
had made no mistake.Then he spoke:
"You have waited most patiently for me to announce my intentions.Let me
see; it is nearly three months since you came to Arcadia House?"Alert and keeping herself well in hand, she
would force him to the first move.And Quinton Edge realized that he
would have to make it."It won't be any news to you that there are several people who would be
glad to be informed of your whereabouts.There's Boris, for one, and
young Ulick--we spoke of them some time ago.""But to no purpose, sir; you remember that."Still, in three months a woman may change her mind many
times.""Then it is hopeless to expect a decision from you?""In that case it may become necessary for me to act for you."The exclamation told its own story, and the girl in her vexation bit the
lip that had betrayed her."Don't distress yourself," he said, smoothly."I am only giving you the
warning that courtesy entitles you to receive."Whatever his intentions concerning her, she could not
be the worse off for knowing them.So she went on, steadily:
"Since you have already decided upon my future, argument would be
useless.But perhaps I may assume that you have acted with some small
regard for my interests.""Not the least in the world," returned Quinton Edge, and Esmay smiled
involuntarily at frankness so unblushing.Whereupon and curiously
enough, Quinton Edge became suddenly of a great gravity, the flippancy
of his accustomed manner falling from him as a cloak drops unnoticed
from a man's shoulders.He rose to his feet, strode to a window, and
stood there for perhaps a minute looking out upon the moonlit waters of
the Lesser river.When he turned again to the girl there were lines of
hardness about his mouth that she had never noticed before.Yet, in
speaking, his voice was soft, almost hesitating."Why should I tell you of these things, and then again why not?We are
both children of the Doomsmen, and the matter concerns us nearly.Not
equally, of course, but listen and draw your own conclusions.""There are clouds in the political sky, and our little ship of state is
in danger of going upon the rocks, coincident with the death of Dom
Gillian, its old-time helmsman.And that contingency in the natural
course of events cannot be long delayed."Now there are two nominal heirs--Boris and Ulick.Each deems himself
the chosen successor to his great-grandfather, and each is incompetent
to play the part.In the past the reins of power have been held by the
man who stands between them."No; and for the simple reason that there are few to care who rules so
long as the figure-head remains a presentable one."Dom Gillian will formally nominate one of his grandsons as his heir.It
makes no difference whether Boris or Ulick succeeds--the outcome must be
the same.Both have personal followings, and that of the disappointed
one will form a minority insignificant in numerical strength, but
capable of being kneaded by strong hands into a compact mass."I accept the situation as it is and simply turn it to my
own advantage--as third man.This makes it necessary that the
disappointed one should become my absolute property.Now I hold the
price that he will demand for the surrender of his rights and
freedom--nothing less than yourself.""I shall not affect to be surprised," said the girl, coolly."But are
you quite sure that I am valued at so high a figure?It would be
mortifying for you to go into the market and find that your currency had
depreciated on your hands.""The passion with Boris and Ulick alike
is genuine enough, albeit of somewhat different sort.As you care for
neither, it should be a matter of indifference whose property you
become."The blood burned redly under the girl's brown skin."No one but a woman
could know how unforgivable is that insult," she said.Then, with a
suddenly conceived appeal to the man himself:
"But why a bargain at all?You have the strength, the courage, the
brains--why chaffer when you have but to strike once to win all?You
stand between Boris and Ulick; crush them both in a single embrace and
take their birthright of power.""Do you think that the mere
possession of the wolf-skin is the object of the hunt?It is the game
that amuses me and not the final distribution of the stakes.The game, I
say, and it happens to suit my humor to play it in this particular way.You are simply a piece on the board, and I may win with you or lose with
you, or conclude to throw you back in the box without playing you at
all--just as it pleases me.""The means are at least nobler than the end," retorted the girl."A
lofty ambition, truly, to stand behind a screen and pull the strings of
a puppet, who in turn lords it over a handful of rick burners and cattle
reivers.Even my uncle Hugolin, Councillor Primus of Croye, cuts a
better figure when, clad in his state robe of silver-fox fur, he
presides over his parliament of shopkeepers.""Granted," returned Quinton Edge, "but one and all dance together when I
choose to pipe.Is it such a contemptible thing to rule a small world,
if, indeed, it be the world?I take all that there is to be taken."I am beginning to comprehend," she said, slowly."An ambition that
confessedly overleaps all bounds is at least not an ignoble one.""Yet a moment ago you were considering it--the possibility, I mean."And so if any one of my audience should have the
curiosity to read over the same performance which he heard me read, he
may find several things altered or omitted, and perhaps too upon his
particular judgment, though he did not say a single word to me.But I am
not defending my conduct in this particular, as if I had actually
recited my works in public, and not in my own house before my friends, a
numerous appearance of whom has upon many occasions been held an honour,
but never, surely, a reproach.LI -- To NONIUS MAXIMUS
I AM deeply afflicted with the news I have received of the death of
Fannius; in the first place, because I loved one so eloquent and
refined, in the next, because I was accustomed to be guided by his
judgment--and indeed he possessed great natural acuteness, improved by
practice, rendering him able to see a thing in an instant.There are
some circumstances about his death, which aggravate my concern.He left
behind him a will which had been made a considerable time before his
decease, by which it happens that his estate is fallen into the hands of
those who had incurred his displeasure, whilst his greatest favourites
are excluded.But what I particularly regret is, that he has left
unfinished a very noble work in which he was employed.Notwithstanding
his full practice at the bar, he had begun a history of those persons
who were put to death or banished by Nero, and completed three books of
it.They are written with great elegance and precision, the style is
pure, and preserves a proper medium between the plain narrative and the
historical: and as they were very favourably received by the public, he
was the more desirous of being able to finish the rest.The hand of
death is ever, in my opinion, too untimely and sudden when it falls upon
such as are employed in some immortal work.The sons of sensuality, who
have no outlook beyond the present hour, put an end every day to all
motives for living, but those who look forward to posterity, and
endeavour to transmit their names with honour to future generations by
their works--to such, death is always immature, as it still snatches
them from amidst some unfinished design.Fannius, long before his death,
had a presentiment of what has happened: he dreamed one night that as he
was lying on his couch, in an undress, all ready for his work, and with
his desk,[74] as usual, in front of him, Nero entered, and placing
himself by his side, took up the three first |
hallway | Where is John? | This dream greatly alarmed him,
and he regarded it as an intimation, that he should not carry on his
history any farther than Nero had read, and so the event has proved.I
cannot reflect upon this accident without lamenting that he was
prevented from accomplishing a work which had cost him so many toilsome
vigils, as it suggests to me, at the same time, reflections on my own
mortality, and the fate of my writings: and I am persuaded the same
apprehensions alarm you for those in which you are at present employed.Let us then, my friend, while life permits, exert all our endeavours,
that death, whenever it arrives, may find as little as possible to
destroy.LII -- To DOMITIUS APOLLINARIS
THE kind concern you expressed on hearing of my design to pass the
summer at my villa in Tuscany, and your obliging endeavours to dissuade
me from going to a place which you think unhealthy, are extremely
pleasing to me.Sandra journeyed to the office.It is quite true indeed that the air of that part of
Tuscany which lies towards the coast is thick and unwholesome: but my
house stands at a good distance from the sea, under one of the Apennines
which are singularly healthy.But, to relieve you from all anxiety on my
account, I will give you a description of the temperature of the
climate, the situation of the country, and the beauty of my villa,
which, I am persuaded, you will hear with as much pleasure as I shall
take in giving it.The air in winter is sharp and frosty, so that
myrtles, olives, and trees of that kind which delight in constant
warmth, will not flourish here: but the laurel thrives, and is
remarkably beautiful, though now and then the cold kills it--though not
oftener than it does in the neighbourhood of Rome.The summers are
extraordinarily mild, and there is always a refreshing breeze, seldom
high winds.This accounts for the number of old men we have about, you
would see grandfathers and great-grandfathers of those now grown up to
be young men, hear old stories and the dialect of our ancestors, and
fancy yourself born in some former age were you to come here.The
character of the country is exceedingly beautiful.Picture to yourself
an immense amphitheatre, such as nature only could create.Before you
lies a broad, extended plain bounded by a range of mountains, whose
summits are covered with tall and ancient woods, which are stocked with
all kinds of game.John moved to the bathroom.The descending <DW72>s of the mountains are planted with underwood, among
which are a number of little risings with a rich soil, on which hardly a
stone is to be found.In fruitfulness they are quite equal to a valley,
and though their harvest is rather later, their crops are just as good.At the foot of these, on the mountain-side, the eye, wherever it turns,
runs along one unbroken stretch of vineyards terminated by a belt of
shrubs.Next you have meadows and the open plain.The arable land is so
stiff that it is necessary to go over it nine times with the biggest
oxen and the strongest ploughs.The meadows are bright with flowers, and
produce trefoil and other kinds of herbage as fine and tender as if it
were but just sprung up, for all the soil is refreshed by never failing
streams.Daniel moved to the hallway.But though there is plenty of water, there are no marshes; for
the ground being on a <DW72>, whatever water it receives without
absorbing runs off into the Tiber.This river, which winds through the
middle of the meadows, is navigable only in the winter and spring, at
which seasons it transports the produce of the lands to Rome: but in
summer it sinks below its banks, leaving the name of a great river to an
almost empty channel: towards the autumn, however, it begins again to
renew its claim to that title.You would be charmed by taking a view of
this country from the top of one of our neighbouring mountains, and
would fancy that not a real, but some imaginary landscape, painted by
the most exquisite pencil, lay before you, such an harmonious variety of
beautiful objects meets the eye, whichever way it turns.My house,
although at the foot of a hill, commands as good a view as if it stood
on its brow, yet you approach by so gentle and gradual a rise that you
find yourself on high ground without perceiving you have been making an
ascent.Behind, but at a great distance, is the Apennine range.In the
calmest days we get cool breezes from that quarter, not sharp and
cutting at all, being spent and broken by the long distance they have
travelled.The greater part of the house has a southern aspect, and
seems to invite the afternoon sun in summer (but rather earlier in the
winter) into a broad and proportionately long portico, consisting of
several rooms, particularly a court of antique fashion.In front of the
portico is a sort of terrace, edged with box and shrubs cut into
different shapes.You descend, from the terrace, by an easy <DW72>
adorned with the figures of animals in box, facing each other, to a lawn
overspread with the soft, I had almost said the liquid, Acanthus: this
is surrounded by a walk enclosed with evergreens, shaped into a variety
of forms.Beyond it is the gestation laid out in the form of a circus
running round the multiform box-hedge and the dwarf-trees, which are cut
quite close.The whole is fenced in with a wall completely covered by
box cut into steps all the way up to the top.On the outside of the wall
lies a meadow that owes as many beauties to nature as all I have been
describing within does to art; at the end of which are open plain and
numerous other meadows and copses.From the extremity of the portico a
large dining-room runs out, opening upon one end of the terrace, while
from the windows there is a very extensive view over the meadows up into
the country, and from these you also see the terrace and the projecting
wing of the house together with the woods enclosing the adjacent
hippodrome.Almost opposite the centre of the portico, and rather to the
back, stands a summer-house, enclosing a small area shaded by four
plane-trees, in the midst of which rises a marble fountain which gently
plays upon the roots of the plane-trees and upon the grass-plots
underneath them.This summer-house has a bed-room in it free from every
sort of noise, and which the light itself cannot penetrate, together
with a common dining-room I use when I have none but intimate friends
with me.A second portico looks upon this little area, and has the same
view as the other I have just been describing.There is, besides,
another room, which, being situate close to the nearest plane-tree,
enjoys a constant shade and green.Its sides are encrusted with carved
marble up to the ceiling, while above the marble a foliage is painted
with birds among the branches, which has an effect altogether as
agreeable as that of the carving, at the foot of which a little
fountain, playing through several small pipes into a vase it encloses,
produces a most pleasing murmur.From a corner of the portico you enter
a very large bed-chamber opposite the large dining-room, which from some
of its windows has a view of the terrace, and from others, of the
meadow, as those in the front look upon a cascade, which entertains at
once both the eye and the ear; for the water, dashing from a great
height, foams over the marble basin which receives it below.This room
is extremely warm in winter, lying much exposed to the sun, and on a
cloudy day the heat of an adjoining stove very well supplies his
absence.Leaving this room, you pass through a good-sized, pleasant,
undressing-room into the cold-bath-room, in which is a large gloomy
bath: but if you are inclined to swim more at large, or in warmer water,
in the middle of the area stands a wide basin for that purpose, and near
it a reservoir from which you may be supplied with cold water to brace
yourself again, if you should find you are too much relaxed by the warm.Adjoining the cold bath is one of a medium degree of heat, which enjoys
the kindly warmth of the sun, but not so intensely as the hot bath,
which projects farther.This last consists of three several
compartments, each of different degrees of heat; the two former lie open
to the full sun, the latter, though not much exposed to its heat,
receives an equal share of its light.Over the undressing-room is built
the tennis-court, which admits of different kinds of games and different
sets of players.Not far from the baths is the staircase leading to the
enclosed portico, three rooms intervening.One of these looks out upon
the little area with the four plane-trees round it, the other upon the
meadows, and from the third you have a view of several vineyards, so
that each has a different one, and looks towards a different point of
the heavens.At the upper end of the enclosed portico, and indeed taken
off from it, is a room that looks out upon the hippodrome, the
vineyards, and the mountains; adjoining is a room which has a full
exposure to the sun, especially in winter, and out of which runs another
connecting the hippodrome with the house.On the
side rises an enclosed portico, which not only looks out upon the
vineyards, but seems almost to touch them.John moved to the hallway.From the middle of this
portico you enter a dining-room cooled by the wholesome breezes from the
Apennine valleys: from the windows behind, which are extremely large,
there is a close view of the vineyards, and from the folding doors
through the summer portico.Along that side of the dining-room where
there are no windows runs a private staircase for greater convenience in
serving up when I give an entertainment; at the farther end is a
sleeping-room with a look-out upon the vineyards, and (what is equally
agreeable) the portico.Underneath this room is an enclosed portico
resembling a grotto, which, enjoying in the midst of summer heats its
own natural coolness, neither admits nor wants external air.After you
have passed both these porticoes, at the end of the dining-room stands a
third, which according as the day is more or less advanced, serves
either for Winter or summer use.It leads to two different apartments,
one containing four chambers, the other, three, which enjoy by turns
both sun and shade.This arrangement of the different parts of my house
is exceedingly pleasant, though it is not to be compared with the beauty
of the hippodrome,' lying entirely open in the middle of the grounds, so
that the eye, upon your first entrance, takes it in entire in one view.It is set round with plane-trees covered with ivy, so that, while their
tops flourish with their own green, towards the roots their verdure is
borrowed from the ivy that twines round the trunk and branches, spreads
from tree to tree, and connects them together.Between each plane-tree
are planted box-trees, and behind these stands a grove of laurels which
blend their shade with that of the planes.This straight boundary to the
hippodrome[75] alters its shape at the farther end, bending into a
semicircle, which is planted round, shut in with cypresses, and casts a
deeper and gloomier shade, while the inner circular walks (for there are
several), enjoying an open exposure, are filled with plenty of roses,
and correct, by a very pleasant contrast, the coolness of the shade with
the warmth of the sun.Having passed through these several winding
alleys, you enter a straight walk, which breaks out into a variety of
others, partitioned off by box-row hedges.In one place you have a
little meadow, in another the box is cut in a thousand different forms,
sometimes into letters, expressing the master's name, sometimes the
artificer's, whilst here and there rise little obelisks with fruit-trees
alternately intermixed, and then on a sudden, in the midst of this
elegant regularity, you are surprised with an imitation of the negligent
beauties of rural nature.In the centre of this lies a spot adorned with
a knot of dwarf plane-trees.Beyond these stands an acacia, smooth and
bending in places, then again various other shapes and names.At the
upper end is an alcove of white marble, shaded with vines and supported
by four small Carystian columns.From this semicircular couch, the
water, gushing up through several little pipes, as though pressed out by
the weight of the persons who recline themselves upon it, falls into a
stone cistern underneath, from whence it is received into a fine
polished marble basin, so skilfully contrived that it is always full
without ever overflowing.When I sup here, this basin serves as a table,
the larger sort of dishes being placed round the margin, while the
smaller ones swim about in the form of vessels and water-fowl.Opposite
this is a fountain which is incessantly emptying and filling, for the
water which it throws up to a great height, falling back again into it,
is by means of consecutive apertures returned as fast as it is received.Facing the alcove (and reflecting upon it as great an ornament as it
borrows from it) stands a summer-house of exquisite marble, the doors of
which project and open into a green enclosure, while from its upper and
lower windows the eye falls upon a variety of different greens.Next to
this is a little private closet (which, though it seems distinct, may
form part of the same room), furnished with a couch, and notwithstanding
it has windows on every side, yet it enjoys a very agreeable gloom, by
means of a spreading vine which climbs to the top, and entirely
overshadows it.Here you may lie and fancy yourself in a wood, with this
only difference, that you are not exposed to the weather as you would be
there.Here too a fountain rises and instantly disappears--several
marble seats are set in different places, which are as pleasant as the
summer-house itself after one is tired out with walking.Near each is a
little fountain, and throughout the whole hippodrome several small rills
run murmuring along through pipes, wherever the hand of art has thought
proper to conduct them, watering here and there different plots of
green, and sometimes all parts at once.I should have ended before now,
for fear of being too chatty, had I not proposed in this letter to lead
you into every corner of my house and gardens.Nor did I apprehend your
thinking it a trouble to read the description of a place which I feel
sure would please you were you to see it; especially as you can stop
just when you please, and by throwing aside my letter, sit down as it
were, and give yourself a rest as often as you think proper.Besides, I
gave my little passion indulgence, for I have a passion for what I have
built, or finished, myself.In a word, (for why should I conceal from my
friend either my deliberate opinion or my prejudice?)I look upon it as
the first duty of every writer to frequently glance over his title-page
and consider well the subject he has proposed to himself; and he may be
sure, if he dwells on his subject, he cannot justly be thought tedious,
whereas if, on the contrary, he introduces and drags in anything
irrelevant, he will be thought exceedingly so.Homer, you know, has
employed many verses in the description of the arms of Achilles, as
Virgil has also in those of Aeneas, yet neither 'of them is prolix,
because they each keep within the limits of their original design.Aratus, you observe, is not considered too circumstantial, though he
traces and enumerates the minutest stars, for he does not go out of his
way for that purpose, but only follows where his subject leads him.In
the same way (to compare small things with great), so long as, in
endeavouring to give you an idea of my house, I have not introduced
anything irrelevant or superfluous, it is not my letter which describes,
but my villa which is described, that is to be considered large.But to
return to where I began, lest I should |
bedroom | Where is John? | [76] Besides the advantages already mentioned, I
enjoy here a cozier, more profound and undisturbed retirement than
anywhere else, as I am at a greater distance from the business of the
town and the interruption of troublesome clients.All is calm and
composed; which circumstances contribute no less than its clear air and
unclouded sky to that health of body and mind I particularly enjoy in
this place, both of which I keep in full swing by study and hunting.And
indeed there is no place which agrees better with my family, at least I
am sure I have not yet lost one (may the expression be allowed![77]) of
all those I brought here with me.And may the gods continue that
happiness to me, and that honour to my villa.LIII -- To CALVISIUS
IT is certain the law does not allow a corporate city to inherit any
estate by will, or to receive a legacy.Saturninus, however, who has
appointed me his heir, had left a fourth part of his estate to our
corporation of Comum; afterwards, instead of a fourth part, he
bequeathed four hundred thousand sesterces.[78] This bequest, in the eye
of the law, is null and void, but, considered as the clear and express
will of the deceased, ought to stand firm and valid.Myself, I consider
the will of the dead (though I am afraid what I say will not please the
lawyers) of higher authority than the law, especially when the interest
of one's native country is concerned.Ought I, who made them a present
of eleven hundred thousand sesterces[79] out of my own patrimony, to
withhold a benefaction of little more than a third part of that sum out
of an estate which has come quite by a chance into my hands?You, who
like a true patriot have the same affection for this our common country,
will agree with me in opinion, I feel sure.I wish therefore you would,
at the next meeting of the Decurii, acquaint them, just briefly and
respectfully, as to how the law stands in this case, and then add that I
offer them four hundred thousand sesterces according to the direction in
Saturninus' will.You will represent this donation as his present and
his liberality; I only claim the merit of complying with his request.I
did not trouble to write to their senate about this, fully relying as I
do upon our intimate friendship and your wise discretion, and being
quite satisfied that you are both able and willing to act for me upon
this occasion as I would for myself; besides, I was afraid I should not
seem to have so cautiously guarded my expressions in a letter as you
will be able to do in a speech.The countenance, the gesture, and even
the tone of voice govern and determine the sense of the speaker, whereas
a letter, being without these advantages, is more liable to malignant
misinterpretation.LIV -- To MARCELLINUS
I WRITE this to you in the deepest sorrow: the youngest daughter of my
friend Fundanus is dead!I have never seen a more cheerful and more
lovable girl, or one who better deserved to have enjoyed a long, I had
almost said an immortal, life!She was scarcely fourteen, and yet there
was in her a wisdom far beyond her years, a matronly gravity united with
girlish sweetness and virgin bashfulness.With what an endearing
fondness did she hang on her father's neck!How affectionately and
modestly she used to greet us his friends!With what a tender and
deferential regard she used to treat her nurses, tutors, teachers, each
in their respective offices!What an eager, industrious, intelligent,
reader she was!Sandra journeyed to the office.She took few amusements, and those with caution.How
self-controlled, how patient, how brave, she was, under her last
illness!She complied with all the directions of her physicians; she
spoke cheerful, comforting words to her sister and her father; and when
all her bodily strength was exhausted, the vigour of her mind sustained
her.That indeed continued even to her last moments, unbroken by the
pain of a long illness, or the terrors of approaching death; and it is a
reflection which makes us miss her, and grieve that she has gone from
us, the more.0 melancholy, untimely, loss, too truly!She was engaged
to an excellent young man; the wedding-day was fixed, and we were all
invited.I cannot express in
words the inward pain I felt when I heard Fundanus himself (as grief is
ever finding out fresh circumstances to aggravate its affliction)
ordering the money he had intended laying out upon clothes, pearls, and
jewels for her marriage, to be employed in frankincense, ointments, and
perfumes for her funeral.He is a man of great learning and good sense,
who has applied himself from his earliest youth to the deeper studies
and the fine arts, but all the maxims of fortitude which he has received
from books, or advanced himself, he now absolutely rejects, and every
other virtue of his heart gives place to all a parent's tenderness.You
will excuse, you will even approve, his grief, when you consider what he
has lost.He has lost a daughter who resembled him in his manners, as
well as his person, and exactly copied out all her father.So, if you
should think proper to write to him upon the subject of so reasonable a
grief, let me remind you not to use the rougher arguments of
consolation, and such as seem to carry a sort of reproof with them, but
those of kind and sympathizing humanity.Time will render him more open
to the dictates of reason: for as a fresh wound shrinks back from the
hand of the surgeon, but by degrees submits to, and even seeks of its
own accord the means of its cure, so a mind under the first impression
of a misfortune shuns and rejects all consolations, but at length
desires and is lulled by their gentle application.LV -- To SPURINNA
KNOWING, as I do, how much you admire the polite arts, and what
satisfaction you take in seeing young men of quality pursue the steps of
their ancestors, I seize this earliest opportunity of informing you that
I went to-day to hear Calpurnius Piso read a beautiful and scholarly
production of his, entitled the Sports of Love.His numbers, which were
elegiac, were tender, sweet, and flowing, at the same time that they
occasionally rose to all the sublimity of diction which the nature of
his subject required.He varied his style from the lofty to the simple,
from the close to the copious, from the grave to the florid, with equal
genius and judgment.These beauties were further recommended by a most
harmonious voice; which a very becoming modesty rendered still more
pleasing.A confusion and concern in the countenance of a speaker
imparts a grace to all he utters; for diffidence, I know not how, is
infinitely more engaging than assurance and self-sufficiency.I might
mention several other circumstances to his advantage, which I am the
more inclined to point out, as they are exceedingly striking in one of
his age, and are most uncommon in a youth of his quality: but not to
enter into a farther detail of his merit, I will only add that, when he
had finished his poem, I embraced him very heartily, and being persuaded
that nothing is a greater encouragement than applause, I exhorted him to
go on as he had begun, and to shine out to posterity with the same
glorious lustre, which was reflected upon him from his ancestors.I
congratulated his excellent mother, and particularly his brother, who
gained as much honour by the generous affection he manifested upon this
occasion as Calpurnius did by his eloquence; so remarkable a solicitude
he showed for him when he began to recite his poem, and so much pleasure
in his success.May the gods grant me frequent occasions of giving you
accounts of this nature!for I have a partiality to the age in which I
live, and should rejoice to find it not barren of merit.I ardently
wish, therefore, our young men of quality would have something else to
show of honourable memorial in their houses than the images[80] of their
ancestors.As for those which are placed in the mansion of these
excellent youths, I now figure them to myself as silently applauding and
encouraging their pursuits, and (what is a sufficient degree of honour
to both brothers) as recognizing their kindred.LVI -- To PAULINUS
As I know the humanity with which you treat your own servants, I have
less reserve in confessing to you the indulgence I shew to mine.I have
ever in my mind that line of Homer's --
"Who swayed his people with a father's love":
and this expression of ours, "father of a family."But were I harsher
and harder than I really am by nature, the ill state of health of my
freedman Zosimus (who has the stronger claim upon my tenderness, in that
he now stands in more especial need of it) would be sufficient to soften
me.He is a good, honest fellow, attentive in his services, and well-
read; but his chief talent, and indeed his distinguishing qualification,
is that of a comedian, in which he highly excels.His pronunciation is
distinct, correct in emphasis, pure, and graceful: he has a very skilled
touch, too, upon the lyre, and performs with better execution than is
necessary for one of his profession.To this I must add, he reads
history, oratory, and poetry, as well as if these had been the sole
objects of his study.I am the more particular in enumerating his
qualifications, to let you see how many agreeable services I receive
from this one servant alone.He is indeed endeared to me by the ties of
a long affection, which are strengthened by the danger he is now in.John moved to the bathroom.Daniel moved to the hallway.For
nature has so formed our hearts that nothing contributes more to incite
and kindle affection than the fear of losing the object of it: a fear
which I have suffered more than once on his account.Some years ago he
strained himself so much by too strong an exertion of his voice, that he
spit blood, upon which account I sent him into Egypt;[81] from whence,
after a long absence, belately returned with great benefit to his
health.But having again exerted himself for several days together
beyond his strength, he was reminded of his former malady by a slight
return of his cough, and a spitting of blood.For this reason I intend
to send him to your farm at Forum-Julii,[82] having frequently heard you
mention it as a healthy air, and recommend the milk of that place as
very salutary in disorders of his nature.I beg you would give
directions to your people to receive him into your house, and to supply
him with whatever he may have occasion for: which will not be much, for
he is so sparing and abstemious as not only to abstain from delicacies,
but even to deny himself the necessaries his ill state of health
requires.I shall furnish him towards his journey with what will be
sufficient for one of his moderate requirements, who is coming under
your roof.LVII -- To RUFUS
I WENT into the Julian[83] court to hear those lawyers to whom,
according to the last adjournment, I was to reply.The judges had taken
their seats, the decemviri[84] were arrived, the eyes of the audience
were fixed upon the counsel, and all was hushed silence and expectation,
when a messenger arrived from the praetor, and the Hundred are at once
dismissed, and the case postponed: an accident extremely agreeable to
me, who am never so well prepared but that I am glad of gaining further
time.The occasion of the court's rising thus abruptly was a short edict
of Nepos, the praetor for criminal causes, in which he directed all
persons concerned as plaintiffs or defendants in any cause before him to
take notice that he designed strictly to put in force the decree of the
senate annexed to his edict.Which decree was expressed in the following
words:
ALL PERSONS WHOSOEVER THAT HAVE ANY LAW-SUITS DEPENDING ARE HEREBY
REQUIRED AND COMMANDED, BEFORE ANY PROCEEDINGS BE HAD THEREON, TO TAKE
AN OATH THAT THEY HAVE NOT GIVEN, PROMISED, OR ENGAGED TO GIVE, ANY FEE
OR REWARD TO ANY ADVOCATE, UPON ACCOUNT OF HIS UNDERTAKING THEIR CAUSE.In these terms, and many others equally full and express, the lawyers
were prohibited to make their professions venal.However, after the case
is decided, they are permitted to accept a gratuity of ten thousand
sesterces.[85] The praetor for civil causes, being alarmed at this order
of Nepos, gave us this unexpected holiday in order to take time to
consider whether he should follow the example.Meanwhile the whole town
is talking, and either approving or condemning this edict of Nepos.We
have got then at last (say the latter with a sneer) a redressor of
abuses.But pray was there never a praetor before this man?Who is he
then who sets up in this way for a public reformer?Others, on the
contrary, say, "He has done perfectly right upon his entry into office;
he has paid obedience to the laws; considered the decrees of the senate,
repressed most indecent contracts, and will not suffer the most
honourable of all professions to be debased into a sordid lucre
traffic."This is what one hears all around one; but which side may
prevail, the event will shew.John moved to the hallway.It is the usual method of the world
(though a very unequitable rule of estimation) to pronounce an action
either right or wrong, according as it is attended with good or ill
success; in consequence of which you may hear the very same conduct
attributed to zeal or folly, to liberty or licentiousness, upon
different several occasions.John travelled to the kitchen.LVIII -- To ARRIANUS
SOMETIMES I miss Regulus in our courts.The man, it must be owned, highly respected his profession, grew pale
with study and anxiety over it, and used to write out his speeches
though he could not get them by heart.There was a practice he had of
painting round his right or left eye,[86] and wearing a white patch[87]
over one side or the other of his forehead, according as he was to plead
either for the plaintiff or defendant; of consulting the soothsayers
upon the issue of an action; still, all this excessive superstition was
really due to his extreme earnestness in his profession.John went to the bedroom.And it was
acceptable enough being concerned in the same cause with him, as he
always obtained full indulgence in point of time, and never failed to
get an audience together; for what could be more convenient than, under
the protection of a liberty which you did not ask yourself, and all the
odium of the arrangement resting with another, and before an audience
which you had not the trouble of collecting, to speak on at your ease,
and as long as you thought proper?Nevertheless Regulus did well in
departing this life, though he would have done much better had he made
his exit sooner.He might really have lived now without any danger to
the public, in the reign of a prince under whom he would have had no
opportunity of doing any harm.I need not scruple therefore, I think, to
say I sometimes miss him: for since his death the custom has prevailed
of not allowing, nor indeed of asking more than an hour or two to plead
in, and sometimes not above half that time.The truth is, our advocates
take more pleasure in finishing a cause than in defending it; and our
judges had rather rise from the bench than sit upon it: such is their
indolence, and such their indifference to the honour of eloquence and
the interest of justice!are we
more equitable than the laws which grant so many hours and days of
adjournments to a case?were our forefathers slow of apprehension, and
dull beyond measure?and are we clearer of speech, quicker in our
conceptions, or more scrupulous in our decisions, because we get over
our causes in fewer hours than they took days?it was by zeal
in your profession that you secured an advantage which is but rarely
given to the highest integrity.As for myself, whenever I sit upon the
bench (which is much oftener than I appear at the bar), I always give
the advocates as |
kitchen | Where is John? | But this, it
is objected, would give an opening to much superfluous matter: I grant
it may; yet is it not better to hear too much than not to hear enough?Besides, how shall you know that what an advocate has farther to offer
will be superfluous, until you have heard him?But this, and many other
public abuses, will be best reserved for a conversation when we meet;
for I know your affection to the commonwealth inclines you to wish that
some means might be found out to check at least those grievances, which
would now be very difficult absolutely to remove.But to return to
affairs of private concern: I hope all goes well in your family; mine
remains in its usual situation.The good which I enjoy grows more
acceptable to me by its continuance; as habit renders me less sensible
of the evils I suffer.LIX -- To CALPURNIA[88]
NEVER was business more disagreeable to me than when it prevented me not
only from accompanying you when you went into Campania for your health,
but from following you there soon after; for I want particularly to be
with you now, that I may learn from my own eyes whether you are growing
stronger and stouter, and whether the tranquillity, the amusements, and
plenty of that charming country really agree with you.Were you in
perfect health, yet I could ill support your absence; for even a
moment's uncertainty of the welfare of those we tenderly love causes a
feeling of suspense and anxiety: but now your sickness conspires with
your absence to trouble me grievously with vague and various anxieties.I dread everything, fancy everything, and, as is natural to those who
fear, conjure up the very things I most dread.Let me the more earnestly
entreat you then to think of my anxiety, and write to me every day, and
even twice a day: I shall be more easy, at least while I am reading your
letters, though when I have read them, I shall immediately feel my fears
again.LX -- To CALPURNIA
You kindly tell me my absence very sensibly affects you, and that your
only consolation is in conversing with my works, which you frequently
substitute in my stead.I am glad that you miss me; I am glad that you
find some rest in these alleviations.In return, I read over your
letters again and again, and am continually taking them up, as if I had
just received them; but, alas!this only stirs in me a keener longing
for you; for how sweet must her conversation be whose letters have so
many charms?Let me receive them, however, as often as possible,
notwithstanding there is still a mixture of pain in the pleasure they
afford me.LXI -- To PRISCUS
You know Attilius Crescens, and you love him; who is there, indeed, of
any rank or worth, that does not?For myself, I profess to have a
friendship for him far exceeding ordinary attachments of the world.Our
native towns are separated only by a day's journey; and we got to care
for each other when we were very young; the season for passionate
friendships.Henry Temple,--now Viscount Palmerston and Prime Minister of England!Sandra journeyed to the office.Five sovereigns and five-and-twenty administrations, from Godolphin
to Pitt, succeeded each other, while Charles Macklin was thus
progressing on his journey of life.Charles Macklin represents contradiction, sarcasm, irritability,
restlessness.It came of a double source,--his descent and the
line of characters which he most affected.His father was a stern
Presbyterian farmer, in Ulster; his mother, a rigid Roman Catholic.At the siege of Derry, three of his uncles were among the besiegers,
and three among the besieged; and he had another,--a Roman Catholic
priest, who undertook to educate him, but who consigned the mission
to Nature.I have somewhere read that at five-and-thirty, Macklin
could not read, perfectly; but _that_ is a fable; or at eight or
nine, he could hardly have played Monimia, in private theatricals,
at the house of the good Ulster lady, who looked after him more
carefully than the priest, and more tenderly than Nature.In after years, Quin said of Macklin that he had--not _lines_ in his
face, but _cordage_; and again, on seeing Macklin dressed and painted
for Shylock, Quin remarked that if ever Heaven had written villain on
a brow it was on that fellow's!One can hardly fancy that the gentle
Monimia could ever have found a representative in one who came to be
thus spoken of; but he is said to have succeeded in this respect,
perfectly, and in voice, feature, and action, to have counterfeited
that most interesting of orphans with great success.It was a fatal success, in one sense.It inspired the boy with a
desire to act on a wider stage.It created in him a disgust for the
vocation to which he was destined,--that of a saddler,--from which
he ran away before he was apprentice enough to sew a buckle on a
girth; and the lad made off for the natural attraction of all Irish
lads,--Dublin.His ambition could both soar and stoop; and he entered
Trinity College as a badge-man or porter, which illustrious place and
humble office he quitted in 1710.Except that he turned stroller, and suffered the sharp pangs which
strollers feel,--and enjoyed the roving life led by players on the
tramp, little is here known of him.He seems to have served some
five years to this rough and rollicking apprenticeship, and then to
have succeeded in being allowed to appear at Lincoln's Inn Fields,
in 1725, as Alcander, in "OEdipus."His manner of speaking was found
too "familiar," that is, too _natural_.He had none, he said, of the
hoity-toity, sing-song delivery then in vogue; and Rich recommended
him to _go to grass again_; and accordingly to green fields and
strolling he returned.I suppose some manager had his eye on Macklin at Southwark Fair,
in 1730, for he passed thence immediately to Lincoln's Inn Fields.He played small parts, noticed in another page, and was probably
thankful to get them, not improving his cast till he went to Drury
Lane, in 1733, when he played the elder Cibber's line of characters,
and in 1735 created Snip in the farce of the "Merry Cobler," and
came thereby in peril of his life.One evening, a fellow actor,
Hallam, grandfather of merry Mrs.Mattocks, took from Macklin's
dressing-room, a wig, which the latter wore in the farce.The players
were in the "scene room," some of them seated on the settle in front
of the fire, when a quarrel broke out between Hallam and Macklin,
which was carried on so loudly that the actors then concluding the
first piece were disturbed by it.John moved to the bathroom.Hallam, at length, surrendered the
"property," but, after doing so, used words of such offence that
Macklin, equally unguarded in language, and more unguarded in action,
struck at him with his cane, in order to thrust him from the room.Unhappily the cane penetrated through Hallam's eye, to the brain, and
killed him.Macklin's deep concern could not save him from standing
at the bar of the Old Bailey on a charge of murder.The jury returned
him guilty of manslaughter, without malice aforethought, and the
contrite actor was permitted to return to his duty.Booth, widow of Barton Booth,
in whose house was domiciled as companion a certain Grace Purvor,
who could dance almost as well as Santlow herself, and had otherwise
great attractions.Colley Cibber loved to look in at Mrs.Booth's to
listen to Grace's well-told stories; Macklin went thither to tell his
own to Grace; and John, Duke of Argyle, flitted about the same lady
for purposes of his own, which he had the honesty to give up, when
Macklin informed him of the honourable interest he took in the friend
of Mrs.Macklin married Grace, and the latter proved excellent
both as wife and actress--of her qualities in the latter respect I
have already spoken.For some years Macklin himself failed to reap the distinction he
coveted.The attainment was made, however, in 1741, when he induced
Fleetwood to revive Shakspeare's "Merchant of Venice," with Macklin
for Shylock.There was a whisper that he was about to play the Jew as a serious
character.His comrades laughed, and the manager was nervous.The
rehearsals told them nothing, for there Macklin did little more than
walk through the part, lest the manager should prohibit the playing
of the piece, if the nature of the reform Macklin was about to
introduce should make him fearful of consequences.Daniel moved to the hallway.John moved to the hallway.In some such dress
as that we now see worn by Shylock, Macklin, on the night of the 15th
of February,[10] 1741, walked down the stage, and looking through the
eyelet-hole in the curtain, saw the two ever-formidable front rows of
the pit occupied by the most highly-dreaded critics of the period.He returned from his survey, calm
and content, remarking, "Good!John travelled to the kitchen.I shall be tried to-night by a Special
Jury!"There was little applause, to Macklin's disappointment, on his
entrance, yet people were pleased at the aspect of a Jew whom
Rembrandt might have painted.The opening scene was spoken in
familiar, but earnest accents.Not a hand yet gave token of
approbation, but there occasionally reached Macklin's ears, from
the two solemn rows of judge and jury in the pit, the sounds of a
"Good!"--and he passed off more
gratified by this than by the slight general applause intended for
encouragement.As the play proceeded, so did his triumph grow.In the scene with
Tubal, which Dogget in Lansdowne's version had made so comic, he
shook the hearts, and not the sides of the audience.There was deep
emotion in that critical pit.The sympathies of the house went all
for Shylock; and at last, a storm of acclamation, a very hurricane of
approval, roared pleasantly over Macklin.So far all was well; but
the trial scene had yet to come.The actor was not loud,
nor grotesque; but Shylock was natural, calmly confident, and so
terribly malignant, that when he whetted his knife, to cut the
forfeit from that bankrupt there, a shudder went round the house,
and the profound silence following told Macklin that he held his
audience by the heart-strings, and that his hearers must have already
acknowledged the truth of his interpretation of Shakspeare's Jew.When the act-drop fell, then the pent-up feelings found vent, and
Old Drury shook again with the tumult of applause.The critics went
off to the coffee-houses in a state of pleasurable excitement.John went to the bedroom.As
for the other actors, Quin (Antonio) must have felt the master-mind
of that night.Pritchard (Nerissa), excellent judge as she was,
must have enjoyed the terrible grandeur of that trial-scene; and even
Kitty Clive (Portia) could not have dared, on that night, to do what
she ordinarily made Portia do, in the disguise of young Bellario;
namely, mimic the peculiarities of some leading lawyer of the day.And Macklin?--Macklin remarked, as he stood among his fellows, all of
whom were, I hope, congratulatory, "I am not worth fifty pounds in
the world; nevertheless, on this night am I Charles the Great!"That Pope was in the house on the third night, and that he pronounced
Macklin to be the Jew that Shakspeare drew, is not improbable;
but the statement that Macklin, soon after, dined with Pope and
Bolingbroke at Battersea is manifestly untrue, for the latter was
then living in retirement, at Fontainbleau.Daniel journeyed to the kitchen.It could not have been
in such company, at this period, that Pope asked the actor, why
he dressed Shylock in a red hat, and that Macklin replied, it was
because he had read in an old history that the Jews in Venice were
obliged, by law, to wear a hat of that decided colour;--which was
true.Macklin was proud and impetuous, and often lost engagements, by
offending; and regained them by publicly apologising.He was an actor
well established in favour, when, in the season of 1745-46, he made
his first appearance as an author in an _apropos_ tragedy for the '45
era, "Henry VII., or the Popish Impostor."John journeyed to the kitchen.The anachronism in the
title is only to be matched by the violations done to chronology
and propriety in the play,--a crude work, six weeks in the doing.It settles, however, in some degree, the time when Macklin left
the Church of Rome for that of England.It must have been prior to
the period in which he wrote the above-named piece.After it took
place, he used to describe himself "as staunch a Protestant as the
Archbishop of Canterbury, and on the same principles;"--a compliment,
I suppose, to John Potter!After playing during four seasons at Drury Lane, Macklin spent from
1748 to 1750 in Dublin, where he and his wife were to receive L800
a year.He delighted the public, and helped to ruin the manager,
Sheridan, who was unable to fulfil his engagement, and got involved
in a lawsuit.From 1750 to 1754[11] Macklin was at Covent Garden,
where one of his most extraordinary parts was Mercutio, to Barry's
Romeo!--a part for which he was utterly unfit, but which he held to
be one of his best!--not inferior to Woodward's!His view of the
rival Romeos, too, had something original in it.Barry, he said, in
the garden scene, came on with a lordly swagger, and talked so loud
that the servants ought to have come out and tossed him in a blanket;
but Garrick sneaked into the garden, like a thief in the night.And
at this critical comment the latter did not feel flattered.In 1754[12] Macklin introduced his daughter, with a prologue, and
withdrew himself from the stage, to appear in a new character, that
of master of a tavern, where dinners might be had at 4s.a head,[13]
including any sort of wine the guest might choose to ask for!The
house was under the Piazza, in Covent Garden; and Mr.Macklin's
"Great Room in Hart Street" subsequently became George Robins'
auction-room.I do not like to contemplate Macklin in this character,
bringing in the first dish, the napkin over his arm, at the head
of an array of waiters, who robbed him daily; that done, he steps
backwards to the sideboard, bows, and then directs all proceedings by
signs.The cloth drawn, he advances to the head of the table, makes
another servile bow, fastens the bell-rope to the chair, and hoping
he has made everything agreeable, retires!The lectures on the drama and ancient art, and the debates which
followed, in his Great Room, the "British Inquisition," were not in
much better taste.The wits of the town found excellent sport in
interrupting the debaters, and few were more active in this way than
Foote."Do you know what I am going to say?""No,"
said Foote, "_do you?_" On the 25th of January 1755, Charles Macklin
was in the list of what the _Gentleman's Magazine_ used to politely
call the "B--ts," as failing in the character of vintner, coffee-man,
and chapman.His examination only showed that he had failed in
prudence.He had been an excellent father, and on his daughter's
education alone he had expended L1200.He remained disengaged till December 12th, 1759, when he appeared
at Drury Lane, as Shylock, and Sir Archy Macsarcasm, in "Love a la
Mode," a piece of his own.From the profits received on each night
of its being |
kitchen | Where is John? | The arrangement was advantageous to him, although this
little piece was not at first successful.After a season at Drury, he
passed the next at the Garden, and in 1763[14] reappeared in Dublin,
at Smock Alley, then at Crow Street, and Capel Street, under rival
managers Mossop, Sheridan,[15] or Barry, and with more profit to
himself than to them.In 1773 he returned to Covent Garden, where he
made an attempt at Macbeth, which brought on that famous theatrical
"row" which Macklin laid to the enmity of Reddish and Sparks, and of
which I have spoken, under that year.With intervals of rest, Macklin
continued to play, without increase of fame, till 1780,[16] when he
produced his original play, the "Man of the World," and created, at
the age, probably, of ninety years, Sir Pertinax Macsycophant, one of
the most arduous characters in a great actor's repertory.The Lord
Chamberlain licensed this admirable piece with great reluctance,
for though the satire was general, it was severe, and susceptible
of unpleasant and particular application.Shylock, Sir Pertinax,
and Sir Archy, were often played by the old actor, whose memory
did not begin to fail till 1788, when it first tripped, as he was
struggling to play Shylock.The aged actor tottered to the lights,
talked of the inexplicable terror of mind which had come over him,
and asked for indulgence to so aged a servant; and then he went on,
now brilliantly, now all uncertain and confused.He was to play the
same character for his benefit, on May 7th, 1789, and went into the
green-room dressed for the part.Whether he was then in his 90th or
his 100th year, the effort was a great one; and, anticipating it
might fail, the manager had requested Ryder, an actor of merit, who
had been a great favourite and a luckless manager in Ireland, to be
ready to supply Macklin's place.The older performer seeing good Miss Pope in the green-room, asked
her if she was to play that night."To be sure I am, dear sir," she
said; "you see I am dressed for Portia."Macklin looked vacantly at
her, and, in an imbecile tone of voice, remarked, "I had forgotten;
who plays Shylock?"why you, sir; you are dressed for it!"The aged representative of the Jew was affected; he put his hand to
his forehead, and in a pathetic tone deplored his waning memory;
and then went on the stage; spoke, or tried to speak, two or three
speeches, struggled with himself, made one or two fruitless efforts
to get clear, and then paused, collected his thoughts, and, in a few
mournful words, acknowledged his inability, asked their pardon, and,
under the farewell applause of the house, was led off the stage, for
ever.As an actor, he was without trick; his enunciation was clear, in
every syllable.Sandra journeyed to the office.Taken as a whole, he probably excelled every actor
who has ever played Shylock, say his biographers; but I remember
Edmund Kean, and make that exception.He was not a great tragedian,
nor a good light comedian, but in comedy and farce, where rough
energy is required, and in parts resembling Shylock, in their earnest
malignity, he was paramount.He was also an excellent teacher, very
impatient with mediocrity, but very careful with the intelligent.Easily moved to anger, his pupils, and, indeed, many others stood in
awe of him; but he was honourable, generous, and humane; convivial,
frank, and not more free in his style than his contemporaries; but
naturally irascible, and naturally forgiving.Eccentricity was second
nature to him, and seems to have been so with other men of his blood.Charles Macklin, held an incumbency
in Ireland, which he lost because he would indulge in a particular
sort of Church discipline.At the close of his sermon he used to
administer the benediction, and the bagpipes.With the first he
dismissed the congregation, and, taking up the second, he blew his
people out with a lusty voluntary.When Macklin left the stage, his second wife, the widow of a Dublin
hosier, and a worthy woman, looked their fortune in the face.It
consisted of L60 in ready money, and an annuity of L10.Friends were
ready, but the proud old actor was not made to be wounded in his
pride; he was made, in a measure, to help himself.His two pieces,
"Love a la Mode," and the "Man of the World," were published by
subscription.John moved to the bathroom.With nearly L1600 realised thereby, an annuity was
purchased of L200 for Macklin's life, and L75 for his wife, in case
of her survival.And this annuity he enjoyed till the 11th of July
1797, when the descendant of the royal M'Laughlins died, after a
theatrical life, not reckoning the strolling period, of sixty-four
years.If Macklin was really of the old school, that school taught what was
truth and nature.His acting was essentially manly, there was nothing
of trick about it.His delivery was more level than modern speaking,
but certainly more weighty, direct, and emphatic.His features were
rigid, his eye cold and colourless; yet the earnestness of his
manner, and sterling sense of his address, produced an effect in
Shylock that has remained, with one exception, unrivalled.Boaden thought Cooke's Sir Pertinax noisy, compared with Macklin's."He talked of _booing_, but it was evident he took a credit for
suppleness that was not in him.Macklin could inveigle as well as
subdue; and modulated his voice almost to his last year, with amazing
skill."In his earlier days, Macklin was an acute inquirer into meaning; and
always rendered his conceptions with force and beauty.In reading
Milton's lines--
"Of man's first disobedience and the fruit
Of that FOR-BID-DEN tree--whose mortal taste
Brought DEATH into the world, and ALL our woe,"
the first word in capitals was uttered with an awful regret, the
suitable forerunner, says Boaden, "to the great amiss" which follows.Macklin's chief objection to Garrick was directed against his
reckless abundance of action and gesture; all trick, start, and
ingenious attitude were to him subjects of scorn.He finely derided
the Hamlets who were violently horrified and surprised, instead of
solemnly awed, on first seeing the Ghost."Recollect, sir," he would
say, "Hamlet came there to see his father's spirit."Kirkman gives us a picture of Macklin, in his old age, which is
illustrative of the man, and his antagonism to Quin.The scene is at
the Rainbow Coffee House, King Street, Covent Garden, in 1787, where
some one of the company had asked him if he had ever quarrelled with
Quin.Daniel moved to the hallway."I was very low in the theatre as
an actor, when the surly fellow was the despot of the place.But,
sir, I had--had a lift, sir.Yes; I was to play the--the--the boy
with the red breeches;--you know who I mean, sir;--he, whose mother
is always going to law;--you know who I mean!""_Jerry Blackacre_, I
suppose, sir?""Aye, sir,--_Jerry_.Well, sir, I began to be a little
known to the public; and egad, I began to make them laugh.I was
called the _Wild Irishman_, sir; and was thought to have some fun in
me; and I made them laugh heartily at the boy, sir,--in Jerry."When I came off the stage, the surly fellow, who played the scolding
Captain in the play; Captain--Captain--you know who I mean!""_Manly_, I believe, sir?""Aye, sir,--the same _Manly_.John moved to the hallway.Well, sir,
the surly fellow began to scold me; told me I was at my tricks, and
that there was no having a chaste scene for me.Everybody, nay,
egad, the manager himself, was afraid of him.I was afraid of the
fellow, too; but not much.Well, sir, I told him I did not mean
to disturb _him_ by my acting, but to _show off a little myself_.Well, sir, in the other scenes I did the same, and made the audience
laugh incontinently;--and he scolded me again, sir.John travelled to the kitchen.I made the same
apology; but the surly fellow would not be appeased.Again, sir,
however, I did the same; and when I returned to the green-room, he
abused me like a pickpocket, and said I must leave off my _d----d
tricks_.He said I _could_,
and I _should_.Upon which, sir, egad, I said to him flatly,--'you
lie.'He was chewing an apple at this moment; and spitting the
contents into his hand, he threw them in my face."Well, sir, I went up to him directly (for I was a great
_boxing cull_ in those days), and pushed him down into a chair, and
pummelled his face d----bly.""He strove to resist, but he was no match for me; and I made his
face swell so with the blows, that he could hardly speak.When he
attempted to go on with his part, sir, he mumbled so, that the
audience began to hiss.Upon which, he went forward and told them,
sir, that something unpleasant had happened, and that he was really
very ill.But, sir, the moment I went to strike him, there were many
noblemen in the green-room, full dressed, with their swords and large
wigs (for the green-room was a sort of state-room then, sir).Well,
they were all alarmed, and jumped upon the benches, waiting in silent
amazement till the affair was over."At the end of the play, sir, he told me I must give him
satisfaction; and that when he changed his dress, he would wait for
me at the Obelisk, in Covent Garden.I told him I would be with
him;--but, sir, when he was gone, I recollected that I was to play in
the pantomime (for I was a great pantomimic boy in those days).So,
sir, I said to myself, 'd---- the fellow; let him wait; I won't go
to him till my business is all over; let him fume and fret, and be
hanged!'Fleetwood, the manager, who was one of the
best men in the world,--all kindness, all mildness, and graciousness
and affability,--had heard of the affair; and as Quin was his great
actor, and in favour with the town, he told me I had had revenge
enough; and that I should not meet the surly fellow that night; but
that he would make the matter up, somehow or other.John went to the bedroom.Fleetwood ordered me a good supper, and some wine,
and made me sleep at his house all night, to prevent any meeting.Well, sir, in the morning he told me, that I must, for _his sake_,
make a little apology to him for what I had done.And so, sir, I,
to oblige Mr.Fleetwood (for I loved the man), did, sir, make some
apology to him; and the matter dropped."Macklin's character has been described in exactly opposite colours,
according to the bias of the friend or foe who affords the
description.Daniel journeyed to the kitchen.John journeyed to the kitchen.He is angel or fiend, rough or tender, monster, honest
man or knave,--and so forth; but he was, of course, neither so bad as
his foes nor so bright as his friends made him out to be.One thing
is certain, that his judgment and his execution were excellent.In
a very few tragic parts, he acted well; in comedy and farce, where
villainy and humour were combined, he was admirable and original.Of characters which he played originally (and those were few),
he rendered none celebrated, except Sir Archy, Sir Pertinax, and
Murrough O'Doherty, in pieces of which he was the author.His other
principal characters were Iago, Sir Francis Wronghead, Trappanti,
Lovegold, Scrub, Peachum, Polonius, and some others in pieces now not
familiar to us.That Macklin was a "hard actor" there is no doubt; Churchill, who
allows him no excellence, says he was affected, constrained, "dealt
in half-formed sounds," violated nature, and that his features, which
seemed to disdain each other,--
"At variance set, inflexible, and coarse,
Ne'er know the workings of united force,
Ne'er kindly soften to each other's aid,
Nor show the mingled pow'rs of light and shade."But "Cits and grave divines his praise proclaimed," and Macklin had
a large number of admiring friends.In his private life, he had to
bear many sorrows, and he bore them generally well, but one, in
particular, with the silent anguish of a father who sees his son
sinking fast to destruction, and glorying in the way which he is
going.Ten years before Macklin died, he lost his daughter.Miss Macklin
was a pretty and modest person; respectable alike on and off the
stage; artificially trained, but yet highly accomplished.Macklin
had every reason to be proud of her, for everybody loved her for
her gentleness and goodness.As a child, in 1742, she had played
childish parts, and since 1750, those of the highest walk in tragedy
and comedy, but against competition which was too strong for her.She
was the original Irene, in "Barbarossa," and Clarissa, in "Lionel and
Clarissa," and was very fond of acting parts in which the lady had
to assume male attire.This fondness was the cause, in some measure,
of her death; it led to her buckling her garter so tightly that a
dangerous tumour formed in the inner part of the leg, near the knee.I do not fancy that Miss Macklin had ever heard of Mary of Burgundy,
who suffered from a similar infirmity, but the actress was like the
Duchess in this,--from motives of delicacy she would not allow a
leg which she had liberally exhibited on the stage, to be examined
by her own doctor.Miss Macklin bore it with courage, but it compelled her to leave the
stage, and her strength gradually failing, she died in 1787,[17] at
the age of forty-eight, and I wish she had left some portion of her
fortune to her celebrated but impoverished father.Miss Macklin reminds me of Miss Barsanti, the original Lydia
Languish, whose course on the London stage dates from 1777.John travelled to the bathroom.[18] The
peculiarity of Miss Barsanti,--a clever imitator of English and
Italian singers,--was the opposite of that which distinguished Miss
Macklin.She had registered a vow that she would never assume male
attire; nevertheless, she was once cast for Signor Arionelli, in the
"Son-in-Law," a part originally played by Bannister.This was after
her retirement from London, and when she was Mrs.Lisley,--playing
in Dublin.The time of the play is 1779, but the actress, who might
have worn a great coat, if she had been so minded, assumed--for a
music-master of that period, in London--the oriental costume of a
pre-Christian, or of no period, worn by Arbaces, in _Artaxerxes_!Miss Barsanti was an honest woman who, on becoming Mrs.John travelled to the kitchen.Lisley,
wished to assume her husband's name, but that gentleman's family
forbade what they had no right |
hallway | Where is John? | Her second husband's
family was less particular, and in theatrical biographies, she is
the Mrs.Mary moved to the hallway.Daly, the wife of the active Irish manager, of that name;
who is for ever memorable as being the _only_ Irish manager who ever
realised a fortune, and took it with him into retirement.There remain to be noticed, before we pass to the Siddons period,
several actresses, of higher importance than the above ladies, as
well as actors, whose claims are only second to those of Macklin.Foote as the Devil upon Two Sticks.]FOOTNOTES:
[9] It is quite apocryphal that Macklin was two months old when his
father was killed at the Battle of the Boyne.When he was in full
possession of his faculties he said he was born in November 1699.As he died in 1797 he had accomplished ninety-seven years, the age
stated on his coffin-lid, and was in his ninety-eighth year.--_Doran
MS._
Dr.Doran no doubt means that Macklin's father was not killed at the
Battle of the Boyne.[10] 14th of February (2d edition).[11] Macklin does not seem to have been at Covent Garden in 1754.He
had a farewell benefit at Drury Lane, 20th December 1753, after which
he opened his tavern.[12] Miss Macklin made her first appearance, as a woman, on 10th
April 1751, on the occasion of her father's benefit.[13] Cooke, whose account of this matter is very full, says 3s.[14] Macklin was at Drury Lane, 1759-60; Covent Garden, 1760-61; and
was in Dublin, at Crow Street, in 1761-62.[15] Sheridan was not manager after 1759.Macklin acted under the
management of Dawson also.The "Man of the World" was produced 10th May 1781.[18] Her English playing ended in 1777, after which year she acted
only in Ireland.YATES IN THE "PROVOKED HUSBAND."]A BEVY OF LADIES;--BUT CHIEFLY, MRS.BELLAMY, MISS FARREN, MRS.A dozen more of ladies, all of desert, and some of extraordinary
merit, passed away from the stage during the latter portion of
the last century.Green, Hippisley's daughter, and Governor
Hippisley's sister,--the original Mrs.Malaprop, and, but for Mrs.Clive, the first of petulant Abigails, finished in 1779[19] a public
career which began in 1730.[20] In the same year,[21] but after a
brief service of about eight years, Mason's Elfrida and Evelina,
the voluptuous Mrs.Hartley, in her thirtieth year, went into a
retirement which she enjoyed till 1824.She was "the most perfect
beauty that was ever seen,"--more perfect than "the Carrara," who
was "the prettiest creature upon earth."Her beauty, however, was of
feature, lacking expression, and though an impassioned, she was not
an intelligent actress, unless her plunging her stage-wooers into mad
love for her be a proof of it.No wonder, had Smith only not been
married, that he grew temporarily insane about this young, graceful,
and fair creature.Then, from the London stage, at least, fell Mrs.Baddeley, at the end
of the season, 1780-81.She was a pretty actress with a good voice,
and so little love for Mr.Baddeley and so much for George Garrick
that a duel came of it.The parties went out, to Hyde Park, on a
November morning of 1770.Baddeley was stirred up to fight Davy's
brother, by a Jewish friend, who, being an admirer of the lady,
wanted her husband to shoot her lover!The two pale combatants fired
anywhere but at each other, and then the lady rushed in, crying,
"Spare him!"Whereupon, husband
and friend took the fair one, each by a hand, and went to dinner; and
the married couple soon after played together in "It's well it's no
worse!"But worse did come, and separation, and exposure, and _Memoirs_ to
brighten Mrs.Baddeley, which, like those of Mrs.Pilkington, only
blackened her the more.She passed to country engagements, charming
audiences for awhile with her Polly, Rosetta, Clarissa, and Imogen,
till laudanum, cognac, paralysis, and small sustenance, made an end
of her, when she had lost everything she could value, save her beauty.The third departure was of as mad a creature as she, Miss Catley--the
Irish songstress, all smiles and dimples, and roguish beauty; who
loved, like Nell Gwyn, to loll about in the boxes, and call to
authors that she was glad their play was damned; and to ladies, to
stand up that she might look at them, and to display the fashion of
her dress, which those ladies eagerly copied.Her "Tyburn top," which
she wore in Macheath, set the mode for the hair for many a day; and
to be _Catley-fied_ was to be decked out becomingly.A more illustrious pair next left the stage more free to Mrs.Siddons, or her coming rendered it less tenable to them; namely, Mrs.Yates and George Anne Bellamy--the former appearing for the last
time for the benefit of the latter.More than thirty years before,
as Mrs.Graham, young, fat, and weak-voiced, she failed in Dublin.In 1753-54, she made almost as unsatisfactory a _debut_ at Drury
Lane in a new part, Marcia, in "Virginia," in which she only showed
promise.Richard Yates then married and instructed her, and she
rapidly improved, but could not compete with Mrs.Cibber, till that
lady's illness caused Mandane ("Orphan of China") to be given to
Mrs.Yates, who, by her careful acting, at once acquired a first-rate
reputation.In the classical heroines of the dull old classical
tragedies of the last century, she was wonderfully effective, and
her Medea was so peculiarly her own, that Mrs.Siddons herself never
disturbed the public memory of it by acting the part.Cibber died in 1765,[22] Mrs.Yates succeeded to the whole
of her inheritance, some of which was a burthen too much for her; but
she kept her position, with Mrs.Barry (Crawford) for a rival, till
Mrs.Siddons promised at Bath to come and dispossess both.Yates
recited beautifully, was always dignified, but seems to have wanted
variety of expression.With a haughty mien, and a powerful voice,
she was well suited to the strong-minded heroines of tragedy; but
the more tender ladies, Desdemona or Monimia, she could not compass.To the pride and violence of Calista she was equal, but in pathos
she was wanting.Her comedy was as poor as that of Mrs.Siddons; her
Jane Shore as good; her Medea so sublime as to be unapproachable.I
suspect she was a little haughty; for impudent Weston says in his
will: "To Mrs.In one character of comedy she is said, indeed, to have
excelled--Violante, in the "Wonder," to the playfulness, loving,
bickering, pouting, and reconciliations, in which her "queen-like
majesty" does not seem to have been exactly suitable.Her _scorn_
was never equalled but by Mrs.Siddons, and it would be difficult
to determine which lady had the more lofty majesty.Yates swept the stage as with a tempest; yet she was always under
control.For instance, in Lady Constance, after wildly screaming,
"I will not keep this form upon my head,
When there is much disorder in my wit,"
she did not cast to the ground the thin white cap which surmounted
her headdress, but quietly took it from her head, and placed it on
the right side of the circumference of her hoop!George Anne Bellamy is unfortunate in having a story, which honest
women seldom have.That pleasant place, Mount Sion, at Tunbridge
Wells, was the property of her mother, a Quaker farmer's daughter,
named Seal, who, on _her_ mother falling into distress, was taken
by Mrs.Gregory,[23] the sister of the Duke of Marlborough, to be
educated.Miss Seal was placed in an academy in Queen's Square, Westminster, so
dull a locality, that the rascally Lord Tyrawley had no difficulty
in persuading her to run away from it, in his company, and to his
apartments, in Somerset House.When my lord wanted a little change,
he left Miss Seal with her infant son, and crossed to Ireland to make
an offer to the daughter of the Earl of Blessington.She was ugly,
he said, but had money; and when he got possession of both, he would
leave the first, and bring the latter with renewed love, to share
with Miss Seal.The lady was so particularly touched by this letter, that she sent
it, with others, to the earl, who, rendered angry thereat, forbade
his daughter to marry my lord, but found they were married already.Tyrawley hoped thus to secure Lady Mary Stewart's fortune; but
discovering she had none at her disposal, he naturally felt he had
been deceived, and turned his wife off to her relations.Having gone
through this amount of villainy, King George thought he was qualified
to represent him at Lisbon, and thither Lord Tyrawley proceeded
accordingly.He would have taken Miss Seal with him, but she preferred to go on
the stage.Ultimately she _did_ consent to go; and was received with
open arms; but she was so annoyed by the discovery of a swarthy
rival, that she listened to the wooing of a Captain Bellamy, married
him, and presented him with a daughter with such promptitude, that
the modest captain ran away from so clever a woman, and never saw her
afterwards.Lord Tyrawley, proud of the implied compliment, acknowledged the
little George Anne Bellamy, born on St.George's day, 1733, as his
daughter.He kept
her at a Boulogne convent from her fifth to her eighth year, and
then brought her up at his house at Bexley, amid noble young scamps,
whose society was quite as useful to her as if she had been at a
"finishing" school.Lord Tyrawley having perfected himself in the further study of
demi-rippism, went as the representative of England to Russia,
leaving an allowance for his daughter, which so warmed up her
mother's affections for her, that George Anne was induced to live
with her, and George Anne's mother hoped that her annuity would do so
too, but my lord, having different ideas, stopped the annuity, and
did not care to recover his daughter.The two women were destitute; but the younger one was very youthful,
was rarely beautiful, had certain gifts, and, of course, the managers
heard of her.She had played Miss Prue for Bridgewater's benefit, in
1742, and gave promise.In 1744, Rich heard her recite, and announced
her for Monimia.Quin was angry at having to play Chamont to "such a
child;" but the little thing manifested such tenderness and ability,
that he confessed she was charming.Lord Byron thought so too, and
carried her off in his coach to a house at the corner of North Audley
Street, which looked over the dull Oxford Road to the desolate fields
beyond.She stopped at a mean-looking door,
let into a dead-wall, and applying her hand to a secret spring, it opened
noiselessly to her touch.Then she turned to face her companion, and said
frankly, "I have not thanked you half enough.Will you not enter our poor
dwelling, and share with us a morsel of food and a cup of wine, ere you
depart upon your way?"Esca was neither hungry nor thirsty, yet he bowed his head, and followed
her into the house.CHAPTER VII
TRUTH
The dwelling in which the Briton now found himself presented a strange
contrast of simplicity and splendour, of wealth and frugality, of obscure
poverty and costly refinement.The wall was bare and weather-stained; but
a silver lamp, burning perfumed oil, was fixed against its surface on a
bracket of common deal.Though the stone floor was damp and broken, it was
partially covered by a soft thick carpet of brilliant colours, while
shawls from the richest looms of Asia hung over the mutilated wooden seats
and the crazy couch, which appeared to be the congenial furniture of the
apartment.Esca could not but remark on the same inconsistency throughout
all the minor details of the household.A measure of rich wine from the
Lebanon was cooling in a pitcher of coarse earthenware, a draught of fair
water sparkled in a cup of gold.A bundle of Eastern javelins, inlaid with
ivory and of beautiful finish and workmanship, kept guard, as it were,
over a plain two-edged sword devoid of ornament, and with a handle frayed
and worn as though from constant use, that looked like a weapon born for
work not show, some rough soldier's rude but trusty friend.The room of
which Esca thus caught a hasty glance as he passed through, opened on an
inner apartment, which seemed to have been originally equally bare and
dilapidated, but of which the furniture was even more rich and
incongruous.It was flooded by a soft warm light, shed from a lamp burning
some rare Syrian oil, that was scarcely to be procured for money in Rome.It dazzled Esca's eyes as he followed the girl through the outer apartment
into this retreat, and it was a few seconds ere he recovered his sight
sufficiently to take note of the objects that surrounded him.A venerable man with bald head and long silvery beard was sitting at the
table when they entered, reading from a roll of parchment filled to the
very margin with characters in the Syriac language, then generally spoken
over the whole of Asia Minor, and sufficiently familiar at Rome.So
immersed was he in his studies, that he did not seem to notice her
arrival, till the girl rushed up to him, and, without unveiling, threw
herself into his arms with many expressions of endearment and delight at
her own return.The language in which she spoke was unknown to the Briton;
but he gathered from her gestures, and the agitation which again overcame
her for an instant, that she was relating her own troubles, and the part
he had himself borne in the adventures of the night.Presently she turned,
and drew him forward, while she said in Latin, with a little sob of
agitation between every sentence--
"Behold my preserver--the youth who came in like a lion to save me from
those wicked men!Thank him in my father's name, and yours, and all my
kindred and all my tribe.Bid him welcome to the best our house affords.It is not every day a daughter of Judah meets with an arm and a heart like
his, when she falls into the grasp of the heathen and the oppressor!"The old man stretched his hand to Esca with cordiality and goodwill; as he
did so, the Briton could not but observe how kindly was the smile that
mantled over his serene and gentle face.John travelled to the hallway."My brother will be home ere long," said he, "and will himself thank you
for preserving his daughter from insult and worse.Meantime Calchas bids
you heartily welcome to Eleazar's house.Mariamne," he added, turning to
the girl, "prepare us a morsel of food that we may eat.It is not the
custom of our nation to send a stranger fasting from the door."The girl departed on her hospitable mission, and Esca, making light of his
prowess, and of the danger incurred, gave his own version of the night's
occurrence, to which Calchas listened with grave interest and approval.When he had concluded, the old man pointed to the scroll he had been
reading, which now lay rolled up on the |
hallway | Where is Mary? | "The time will come," said he, "when the words that are written here shall
be in the mouths of all men on the surface of the known earth.Then shall
there be no more strife, nor oppression, nor suffering, nor sorrow.Then
shall men love each other like brothers, and live only in kindliness and
goodwill.Mary moved to the hallway.The day may seem far distant, and the means may seem poor and
inadequate now, yet so it is written here, and so will it be at last.""You think that Rome will extend her dominions farther and farther?That
she will conquer all known nations, as she has conquered us?That she
means to be in fact what she proudly styles herself, the Mistress of the
World?In truth, the eagle's wings are wide and strong.His beak is very
sharp, and where his talons have once fastened themselves, they never
again let go their hold!""The dove will prevail against the eagle, as love is a stronger power than
hate.But it is not of Rome I speak as the future influence that shall
establish the great good on earth.The legions are indeed well trained,
and brave even to the death; but I know of soldiers in a better service
than Caesar's, whose warfare is harder, whose watches are longer, whose
adversaries are more numerous, but whose triumph is more certain, and more
glorious at the last."Esca looked as if he understood him not.The Briton's thoughts were
wandering back to the tramp of columns and the clash of steel, and the
gallant stand made against the invader by the white-robed warriors with
their long swords, amongst whom he had been one of the boldest and the
best."It is hard to strive against Rome," said he, with a glowing cheek and
sparkling eye."Yet I cannot but think, if we had never been provoked to
an attack, if we had kept steadily on the defensive, if we had moved
inland as he approached, harassing and cutting him off whenever we saw an
opportunity, but never suffering him to make one for himself--trusting more
to our woods and rivers, and less to our own right hands--we might have
tamed the eagle and clipped his wings, and beat him back across the sea at
last.But what have I to do with such matters now?"he added, while his
whole countenance fell in bitter humiliation."I, a poor barbarian
captive, and a slave here in Rome!"Calchas studied his face with a keen scrutinising glance, then he laid his
hand on the young man's shoulder, and said inquiringly--
"There is not a grey hair in your clustering locks, nor a wrinkle on your
brow, yet you have known sorrow?"replied the other cheerfully; "and yet I never thought to
have come to this.""You are a slave, and you would be free?"asked Calchas, slowly and
impressively."I am a slave," repeated the Briton, "and I shall be free.proceeded the old man, in the same gentle inquiring
tone."After death," answered the other, "I shall be free as the elements I have
been taught to worship, and into which they tell me I shall be resolved.What need I know or care more than that in death there will be neither
pleasure nor pain?""And is not life with all its changes too sweet to lose on such terms as
these?""Are you content to believe that, like one
walking through a quicksand, the footsteps you leave are filled up and
obliterated behind you as you pass on?Can you bear to think that
yesterday is indeed banished and gone for ever?That a to-morrow must come
of black and endless night?Death should be really terrible if this is
your conviction and your creed!""Death is never terrible to a brave man," answered Esca."A Briton need
not be taught how to die sword in hand.""You think you are brave," said Calchas, looking wistfully on the other's
rising colour and kindling eyes.you have not seen my comrades die,
or you would know that something better than courage is required for the
service to which we belong.What think ye of weak women, tender shrinking
maidens, worn with fatigue, emaciated with hunger, fainting with heat and
thirst, brought out to be devoured by beasts, or to suffer long and
agonising tortures, yet smiling the while in quiet calm contentment, as
seeing the home to which they are hastening, the triumph but a few short
hours off?What think ye of the captains under whom I served, who here at
Rome, in the face of Caesar and his power, vindicated the honour of their
Lord and died without a murmur for His cause?I was with Peter, I tell
you, Peter the Galilean, of whom men talk to this day, of whom men shall
never cease to talk in after ages, when he opposed to Simon's magic arts
his simple faith in the Master whom he served, and I saw the magician
hurled like a stricken vulture to the ground.John travelled to the hallway.I was present when the
fiercest and the wickedest of the Caesars, returning from the expedition to
Greece, wherein his buffooneries had earned the contempt even of that
subtle nation of flatterers, sentenced him to death upon the cross for
that he had dared to oppose Nero's vices, and to tell Nero the truth.I
heard him petition that he might be crucified with his head downward, as
not worthy to suffer in the same posture as his Lord--and I can see him
now, the pale face, the noble head, the dark keen eye, the slender sinewy
form, and, above all, the self-sustaining confidence, the triumphant
daring of the man as he walked fearlessly to death.I was with Paul, the
noble Pharisee, the naturalised Roman citizen, when he, alone amongst a
crowd of passengers and a century of soldiers, quailed not to look on the
black waves raging round our broken ship, and bade us all be of good
cheer, for that every soul, to the number of two hundred and seventy-five,
should come safe to shore.I remember how trustfully we looked on that low
spare form, that grave and gracious face with its kindly eyes, its bushy
brows and thick beard sprinkled here and there with grey.It was the soul,
we knew, that sustained and strengthened the weakly body of the man.The
very barbarians where we landed acknowledged its influence, and would fain
have worshipped him for a god.Nero might well fear that quiet, humble,
trusting, yet energetic nature; and where the imperial monster feared, as
where he admired, loved, hated, envied, or despised, the sentiment must be
quenched in blood."inquired Esca, whose interest,
notwithstanding occasional glances at the door through which Mariamne had
gone out, seemed thoroughly awakened by the old man's narrative."They might not crucify him," answered Calchas, "for he was of noble
lineage and a Roman citizen born; but they took him from amongst us, and
they let him languish in a prison, till they released him at last and
brought him out to be beheaded.Ay, Rome was a fearful sight that day; the
foot was scorched as it trod the ashes of the devastated city, the eye
smarted in the lurid smoke that hung like a pall upon the heavy air and
would not pass away.Palaces were crumbling in ruins, the shrivelled
spoils of an empire were blackening around, the dead were lying in the
choked-up highways half-festering, half-consumed--orphan children were
wandering about starved and shivering, with sallow faces and large shining
eyes, or, worse still, playing thoughtlessly, unconscious of their doom.They said the Christians had set fire to the city, and many an innocent
victim suffered for this foul and groundless slander.oppressed, persecuted, reviled; whose only desire was to live in
brotherhood with all men, whose very creed is peace and goodwill on earth.I counted twenty of them, men, women, and children, neighbours with whom I
had held kindly fellowship, friends with whom I had broken bread, lying
stiff and cold in the Flaminian Way on the morning Paul was led out to
die.But there was peace on the dead faces, and the rigid hands were
clasped in prayer; and though the lacerated emaciated body, the mere
shell, was grovelling there in the dust, the spirit had gone home to God
who made it, to the other world of which you have not so much as heard,
yet which you too must some day visit, to remain for ever.not for ages, but _for ever_--without end!"asked Esca, on whom the idea of a spiritual existence,
innate from its very organisation in every intelligent being, did not now
dawn for the first time.I know the world in which I live; I can see it,
can hear it, can feel it; but that other world, where is it?"Daniel travelled to the bedroom."Where are the dearest wishes of your
heart, the noblest thoughts of your mind?Where are your loves, your
hopes, your affections, above all, your memories?Where is the whole
better part of your nature?your remorse for evil, your aspirations after
good, your speculations on the future, your convictions of the reality of
the past?Where these are, there is that other world.You cannot see it,
you cannot hear it, yet you _know_ that it must be.is any man's misery when it reaches him so overwhelming as it
seemed at a distance?Because something tells him that
the present life is but a small segment in the complete circle of a soul's
existence.And the circle, you have not lived in Rome without learning, is
the symbol of infinity."There are convictions which men hold
unconsciously, and to which they are so accustomed that their attention
can only be directed to them from without, just as they wear their skins
and scarcely know it, till the familiar covering has been lacerated by
injury or disease.At last he looked up with a brightening countenance,
and exclaimed, "In that world, surely, all men will be free!""All men will be equal," replied Calchas, "but no mortal or immortal ever
can be free.Suppose a being totally divested of all necessity for effort,
all responsibility to his fellows or himself, all participation in the
great scheme of which government is the essential condition in its every
part, and you suppose one whose own feelings would be an intolerable
burden, whose own wishes would be an unendurable torture.Man is made to
bear a yoke; but the Captain whom I serve has told me that His yoke is
easy and His burden is light.How easy and how light, I experience every
moment of my life.""And yet you said but now that death and degradation were the lot of those
who bore arms by your side in the ranks," observed the Briton, still
intently regarding his companion.A ray of triumphant courage and exultation flashed up into the old man's
face.For an instant Esca recognised the fierce daring of a nature
essentially bold, reckless, and defiant; but it faded as it came, and was
succeeded by an expression of meek, chastened humility, whilst he replied--
"Death welcome and long looked-for!Degradation that confers the highest
honours in this world and the next!--at least to those who are held worthy
of the great glory of martyrdom.that I might be esteemed one of that
noble band!But my work will be laid to my hand, and it is enough for me
to be the lowest of the low in the service of my Master."Tell me of that master," exclaimed Esca, whose interest
was excited, as his feelings were roused, by converse with one who seemed
so thoroughly impressed with the truth of what he spoke, who was at once
so earnest, so gentle, and so brave.The old man bowed his head with
unspeakable reverence, but in his face shone the deep and fervent joy of
one who looks back with intense love and gratitude to the great epoch of
his existence."I saw Him once," said he, "on the shore of the Sea of Galilee--I that
speak to you now saw Him with my own eyes--there were little children at
His feet.But we will talk of this again, for you are weary and exhausted.Meat and drink are even now prepared for you.It is good to refresh the
body if the mind is to be vigorous and discerning.You have done for us
to-night the act of a true friend.You will henceforth be always welcome
in Eleazar's house."While he spoke, the girl whom Esca had rescued so opportunely entered the
apartment, bearing in some food on a coarse and common trencher, with a
wineskin, of which she poured the contents into a jewelled cup, and
presented it to her preserver with an embarrassed but very graceful
gesture, and a soft shy smile.Daniel went to the garden.Mariamne had unveiled; and, if Esca's expectations during their homeward
walk had been raised by her gentle feminine manners, and the sweet tones
of her voice, they were not now disappointed with what he saw.The dark
eyes that looked up so timidly into his own, were full and lustrous as
those of a deer.They had, moreover, the mournful pleading expression
peculiar to that animal, and, through all their softness and intelligence,
betrayed the watchful anxiety of one whose life is passed in constant
vicissitudes and occasional danger.The girl's face was habitually pale,
though the warm blood mantled in her cheek as she drooped beneath Esca's
gaze of honest admiration, and her regular features were sharpened, a
little more than was natural to them, by daily care and apprehension.This
was especially apparent in the delicate aquiline of the nose, and a slight
prominency of the cheek-bones.It was a face that in prosperity would have
been rich and sparkling as a jewel, that in adversity preserved its charms
from the rare and chastened beauty in which it was modelled.Her dress
betrayed the same incongruity that was so remarkable in the furniture of
her home.Like her veil it was black, and of a coarse and common material,
but where it was looped up, the folds were fastened by one single gem of
considerable value; and two or three links of a heavy gold chain were
visible round her white and well-turned neck.Moving through the room, busied with the arrangements of the meal which
she must herself have prepared, Esca could not but observe the pliant
grace of her form, enhanced by a certain modest dignity, very different
from the vivacious gestures of the Roman maidens to whom he was
accustomed, and especially pleasing to the eye of the Briton.Calchas seemed to love the girl as a daughter; and his kind face grew
kinder and gentler still, while he followed her about in her different
movements, with eyes of the deepest and fondest affection.Esca could not but observe that the board was laid for three persons, and
that by one of the wooden platters stood a drinking-cup of great beauty
and value.Mariamne's glance followed his as it rested on the spare place."For my father," said she gently, in answer to the inquiry she read on his
face."He is later than usual to-night, and, I fear--I fear; my father is
so bold, so prompt to draw steel when he is angered.To-night he has left
his sword at home; and I know not whether to be most frightened or
reassured at his being alone in this wicked town, unarmed.""He is in God's hand, my child," said Calchas reverently."But I should
not fear for Eleazar," he added, with a proud and martial air, "were he
surrounded by a score of such as we see prowling nightly in the streets of
Rome, though they were armed to the teeth, and he with only a shepherd's
staff to keep his head.""Is he, then, so redoubtable a warrior?"asked Esca, on whom good manhood
seldom failed to produce a favourable impression.While he spoke he looked
from one to the other with increasing curiosity and interest."You shall judge for yourself," answered Calchas, "for it cannot now be
long ere he return.Nevertheless, the man who could leap down from the
walls of a beleaguered city, as my brother did, naked and unarmed; who
could break the head off a Roman battering-ram by main force, and render
that engine useless; who could reach the wall again with his |
hallway | Where is Sandra? | Nevertheless, as I said before, you shall judge for yourself."exclaimed Mariamne, while the outer door shut to, and a
man's step was heard advancing through the adjoining apartment, with a
firm and measured footfall.She had been pale enough all night in the eyes of Esca, who was watching
her intently; but he thought now she seemed to turn a shade paler than
before.CHAPTER VIII
THE JEW
The man who entered the apartment with the air of one to whom every nook
and corner was familiar, must have been fully three-score years of age,
yet his dark eye still glittered with the fire of youth, his thick curling
beard and hair were but slightly sprinkled with grey, and the muscles of
his square powerful frame seemed but to have acquired solidity and
consistency with age.His appearance was that of a warrior, toughened,
and, as it were, forged into iron, by years of strife, hardship, and
unremitting toil.If something in the line of his aquiline features resembled Calchas, no
two faces could have been more different in their character and expression
than those of Eleazar and his brother.The latter was all gentleness,
kindliness, and peace; on the former, fiery passions, deep schemes,
continual peril, and contention, had set their indelible marks.The one
was that of the spectator, who is seated securely on the cliff, and marks
the seething waters below with interest, indeed, and sympathy, but with
feelings neither of agitation nor alarm; the other was the strong swimmer,
breasting the waves fiercely, and battling with their might, striving for
his life inch by inch, and stroke by stroke, conscious of his peril,
confident in his strength, and never despairing for an instant of the
result.Mary moved to the hallway.At times, indeed, the influence of opposite feelings, softening
the one and kindling the other, would bring out the family likeness clear
and apparent upon each; but in repose no two faces could be more
dissimilar, no two types of character more utterly at variance, than those
of the Christian and the Jew.As Eleazar's warlike figure came into the light, Esca could not but remark
with what a glance of mistrust his quick eye took in the presence of a
stranger, how the strong fingers closed instinctively round the staff he
was in the act of laying down, and the whole form seemed to gather itself
in an instant as though ready for the promptest measures of resistance or
attack.Such trifling gestures spoke volumes of the character and habits
of the man.Nevertheless Calchas rapidly explained to his brother the cause of this
addition to their supper-party; and Mariamne, who seemed in considerable
awe of her father, busied herself in placing food and wine before him,
with even more alacrity than she had shown when serving their guest.The Jew thanked his new friend for the kindness he had rendered his
daughter, with a few brief cordial words, as one brave man expresses his
gratitude to another, then fell to on the meat and drink provided, with a
voracity that argued well for his physical powers, and denoted a strong
constitution and a long fast.As he took breath after a deep draught of
wine in which, though he pledged him not, he challenged his guest to join,
Calchas asked his brother how he had sped in the affairs that kept him
from home all day."Ill," answered the other, shooting from under his thick eyebrows a
penetrating glance at the Briton."Ill and slowly, yet not so ill but that
something has been gained, another step taken in the direction at which I
aim.Yet I have been to-day in high places, have seen those bloated
gluttons and drunkards who are the ministers of Caesar's will, have spoken
with that spotted panther, Vespasian's scheming agent forsooth!who thinks
he hath the cunning, as he can doubtless boast of the treachery and the
gaudy colours, of the beast of prey.Weaker hands than
mine have ere this strangled a fiercer animal for the worth of his shining
skin.Eleazar-Ben-Manahem is a match, and more than a
match, for Julius Placidus the tribune!"Esca glanced quickly at the speaker, as his ear caught the familiar name.said he, with a fierce smile that showed the strong white
teeth gleaming through his bushy beard."Then you know as cool and well-
taught a soldier as ever buckled on a sword.I wish I had a few like him
to officer the Sicarii(3) at home.But you know, also, a man who would not
scruple to slay his own father for the worth of the clasp that fastens his
gown.I have seen him in the field, and I have seen him in the council.He
is bold, skilful, and he can be treacherous in both!he added, with a searching glance at Esca, while at the same time
he desired Mariamne to fill the stranger's cup and his own.The latter proceeding engrossed the Briton's whole attention.It was with
the utmost carelessness that he replied to the question, by relating his
interview, that very morning, with the tribune at Valeria's door.He
scarcely marked how precisely the father noted down the name in his
tablets, for the daughter's white arm was reaching over his shoulder, so
close that it almost touched his cheek.It was indeed well worth Eleazar's while to obtain information, from
whatever source, of any influence that might affect those in authority
with whom he was in daily contact at Rome.His position was one which
called for courage, tact, skill, and even cunning, to a great extent.Charged by the Supreme Council at Jerusalem, then in the last stage of
perplexity and sorely beset by Vespasian and his legions, with a private
mission to Vitellius, who much mistrusted the successful general, he
represented the hopes and fears, the temporal and political prosperity,
nay, the very existence of the Chosen People.Nor to all appearance could
a better instrument have been selected for the purpose.Eleazar, though a
bigoted and fanatical Jew of the strictest sect, was a man of keen and
powerful intellect, whose obstinacy was open to no conviction, whose
perseverance was to be deterred by no obstacle.John travelled to the hallway.A distinguished and
fearless soldier, he possessed the confidence of the large and fighting
portion of the nation, who looked on Roman supremacy with abhorrence, and
who clung dearly to the notion of earthly dominion, wrested from the
heathen with the sword.His rigid observance of its fasts, its duties, and
its ceremonials, had gained him the affections of the priesthood, and the
more enthusiastic followers of that religion in which outward forms were
so strictly enjoined and so faithfully observed; while a certain fierce,
defiant, and unbending demeanour towards all classes of men, had won for
him a character of frankness which did him good service in the schemes of
intrigue and dissimulation with which he was continually engaged.Daniel travelled to the bedroom.Yet perhaps the man was honest too, as far as his own convictions went.He
esteemed all means lawful for the furtherance of a lawful object.He was
one of those who deem it the most contemptible of weakness to shrink from
doing evil that good may come.Like Jephthah he would have sacrificed his
daughter unflinchingly in performance of a vow; nay, had Mariamne stood
between him and the attainment of his ambition, or even the accomplishment
of his revenge, he would have walked ruthlessly over the body of his
child.Versed in the traditions of his family and the history of his
nation, he was steeped to the lips in that pride of pedigree which was so
essential a feature of the Jewish character: he was convinced that the
eventual destiny of his people was to lord it over the whole earth.He
possessed more than his share of that haughty self-sufficiency which bade
the Pharisee hold aloof from those of lower pretensions and humbler
demeanour than himself; while he had all the fierce courage and energy of
the Lion of Judah, so terrible when roused, so difficult to be appeased
when victorious.In his secret heart he anticipated the time when
Jerusalem should again become a sovereign city, when the Roman eagles
should be scared away from Syria, and a hierarchy established once more as
the government of the people chosen by Heaven.That he should be a second
Judas Maccabaeus, a chief commander of the armies of the faithful in the
new order of things, was an ambition naturally enough entertained by the
bold and skilful soldier; but, to do Eleazar justice, individual
aggrandisement had but little share in his schemes, and personal interest
never crossed those visions for the future, on which his dark and
dangerous enthusiasm so loved to dwell.It was a delicate matter to intrigue with Vitellius in Rome against the
very general who held supreme authority, at least ostensibly, from the
Emperor.It was playing a hazardous game, to receive power and
instructions from the Council at Jerusalem, and to use or suppress them
according to the bearer's own political views and future intentions.It was no easy task to hold his own against such men as Placidus, in the
contest of _finesse_, subtlety, and double-dealing; yet the Jew entered
upon his perilous career with a strenuous energy, a cool calculating
audacity, that was engraved in the very character of the man.Another draught of the rich Lebanon wine served to improve their
acquaintance, and Eleazar, with considerable tact, drew from the Briton
all the information he could obtain as to the habits and movements of his
antagonist the tribune, while he seemed but to be carrying on the
courteous conversation of a host with his guest.Esca's answers,
notwithstanding that thoughts and eyes wandered frequently towards
Mariamne, were frank and open like his disposition.He, too, entertained
no very cordial liking for Placidus, and experienced towards the tribune
that unconscious antipathy which the honest man so often feels for the
knave.Calchas, meanwhile, had returned to the perusal of his scroll, on which
his brother cast occasional glances of unfeigned contempt, notwithstanding
that the reader was the person whom he most loved and respected on earth.Mariamne, moving about the apartment, looked covertly on the fair face and
stately form of her preserver, approving much of what she saw; once their
eyes met, and the Jewess blushed to her temples for very shame.So the
time passed quickly; the night stole on, the Lebanon was nearly finished,
and Esca rose to bid his entertainers farewell."You have done me a rare service," said Eleazar, feeling in his breast
while he spoke, and producing, from under his coarse garment, a jewel of
considerable value, "a service neither thanks nor guerdon can requite;
yet, I pray you, keep this trinket in remembrance of the Jew and the Jew's
daughter, who come of a people that forgive not an injury, and forget not
a benefit."The colour mounted to Esca's forehead, and an expression of pain, almost
of anger, came into his face, while he replied--
"I have done nothing to merit either thanks or reward.It is no such
matter to put a fat eunuch on his back, or to defend an unprotected woman
in a town like this.Any other man would
have done as much.""It is not every man who could have interposed so effectually," replied
Eleazar, with a glance of hearty approval at the thews and sinews of his
friend, replacing the jewel meanwhile in his vestment, without the least
sign of displeasure at its being declined.He would have bestowed it
freely, no doubt, but if Esca did not want it, it would serve some other
purpose: precious stones and gold would always fetch their value at Rome."At least you will let me give you a safe-conduct home," he added; "the
night is far advanced, and I should be loth that you should suffer wrong
for your interposition in our behalf."In the pride of his strength, it seemed so
impossible that he should require protection or assistance from anyone.He
squared his large shoulders and drew himself to his full height."I should wish no better pastime," said he, "than a bout with a dozen of
them!I, too, was brought up a warrior, in a land you have never heard of,
many a long mile from Rome; a land fairer far than this, of green valleys
and wooded hills, and noble rivers winding calmly towards the sea; a land
where the oaks are lofty and the flowers are sweet, where the men are
strong and the women fair.I have followed the chase afoot from sunrise to
sunset through many a summer's day.I have fronted the invader, sword in
hand, ever since my arm was long enough to draw blade from sheath, or I
had not been here now.Daniel went to the garden.You too are a soldier, I see it in your eye--you can
believe that my limbs grow stiff, my spirits droop for lack of martial
exercise.In faith, it seems to me that even a vulgar broil in the street
makes my blood dance in my veins once more!"Mariamne was listening with parted lips and shining eyes.She drank in all
he said of his distant home with its woodland scenery, its forest trees,
its fragrant flowers, and, above all, its lovely women.She felt so kindly
towards this bold young stranger, exiled from kin and country, she
attributed her interest to pity and gratitude, nor could she help
wondering to find these sentiments so strong."Take an old man's warning, and strike not
unless it be in self-defence.Mark well the turning from the main street
to the Tiber, so shalt thou find thy way to our poor home again."Esca promised faithfully to return, and fully intended to redeem his
promise."Another cup of wine," said Eleazar, emptying the leathern bottle into a
golden vessel; "the sun of Italy cannot ripen such a vintage as this."But the rich produce of the Lebanon was all too cloying for the healthy
palate and the thirst of youth.Esca prayed for a draught of fair water,
and Mariamne brought him the pitcher and gave him to drink with her own
hand.John went back to the bathroom.For the second time to-night their eyes met, and although they were
instantly averted, the Briton felt that he was drinking from a cup more
intoxicating than all the wine-presses of Syria could produce--a cup that
made him unconscious of the past as of the future, and only too keenly
sensible of the present by its joy.He forgot that he was a barbarian, he
forgot that he was a slave.He forgot everything but Mariamne and her dark imploring trustful eyes.CHAPTER IX
THE ROMAN
[Initial I]
It is time to give some account of Esca's anomalous position in the
capital of the world--to explain how the young British noble (for that was
indeed the rank he held in his own country) found himself a slave in the
streets of Rome.Sandra moved to the hallway.In order to do so it is necessary to take a glimpse at
the interior of a patrician's house about the hour of supper; perhaps also
to intrude upon the reflections of its owner, as he paces up and down the
colonnade in the cool air of sunset, absorbed in his own thoughts, and
deep in the memories of the past.His mansion is of stately proportion, and large size, but all its
ornaments and accessories are chastened by a severe simplicity of taste.An observer might identify the man by the very nature of the objects that
surround him.In his vestibule the columns are of the Ionic order, and
their elaborate capitals have been wrought into the utmost degree of
finish which that style will allow.In the smaller entrance-hall or lobby,
which leads to the principal apartments, and which is guarded by an image
of a dog, let into the pavement in mosaic, there are no florid sculptures
nor carvings, nor any attempt at decoration beyond the actual beauty of
the stonework and the scrupulous care with which it is |
hallway | Where is Daniel? | The
doors themselves are of bronze, so well burnished as to need no mixture of
gold or silver inlaid to enhance its brightness; whilst in the principal
hall itself, the room in which friends are welcomed, clients received, and
business transacted, the walls, instead of frescoes and such gaudy
ornaments, are simply overlaid with entablatures of white and polished
marble.The dome is very lofty, rising majestically towards the circular
opening at the top, through which the sky is visible; and round the
fountain or cistern immediately below this are ranged four colossal
statues, representing the elements.These, with the busts of a long line
of illustrious ancestors, are the only efforts of the sculptor's art
throughout the apartment.A large banqueting-hall, somewhat more
luxuriously furnished, opens from one side of the central room, and as
much as can be seen of it displays considerable attention to convenience
and personal comfort.Frescoes, representing scenes of military life,
adorn the walls, and at one end stands a trophy, composed of deadly
weapons and defensive armour, arranged so as to form a glittering and
conspicuous ornament.Where are the scarfs that Lord Byron wore?What has become of that wondrous store
Of Queen Elizabeth's ruffs?Where are the gloves from Antoinette's hand?I do not search for the ships of Tyre--
The grave of Whittington's cat
Would sooner set my spirit on fire--
Or even Beau Brummel's hat.And when I reflect that there are spots
In the world that I can't find,
Where lie these same identical lots,
And many of this same kind,
I'm tempted to give a store of gold
To him that will bring to me
A glass, Earth's mysteries to unfold,
And show me where these things be._MEMORIES_
YON maiden once a jester did adore,
Who early died and in the church-yard sleeps.Once in a while she reads his best jokes o'er
And sits her down and madly, sorely weeps._A SAD STATE_
I KNOW a man in Real Estate,
Whose pride of self's sublime.He'd like to be a poet great
But "can't afford the time."Mary moved to the hallway._AD ASTRA PER OTIUM_
AS I read over old John Dryden's verse,
The rhymes of men like William Blake, and Gay,
The stuff that helped fill Edmund Waller's purse,
And that which placed on Marvell's brow the bay,
It doth appear to me that in those times
The Muses quaffed not sparkling wine, but grog,
And that to grow immortal through one's rhymes
Was 'bout as hard as falling off a log.John travelled to the hallway._CONSOLATION_
SHAKESPEARE was not accounted great
When good Queen Bess ruled England's state,
So why should I to-day repine
Because the laurel is not mine?Perhaps in twenty-ninety-three
Folks will begin to talk of me,
And somewhere statues may be built
Of me, in bronze, perhaps in gilt,
And sages full of quips and quirks
Will wonder if I wrote my works.So why should I repine to-day
Because my brow wears not the bay?_SATISFACTION_
ON READING "NOT ONE DISSATISFIED," BY WALT WHITMAN
GOD spare the day when I am satisfied!Enough is truly likened to a feast that leaves man satiate.The sluggishness of fulness comes apace; the dulness of a mind that
knows all things.The lack of every sweet desire; no new sensation for the soul!What holds the morrow for the soul that's satisfied?Is much-abused ambition then so vile?What is the essence of the joy of living?Must yesterday, to-morrow, and to-day all be the same,
With nothing to be hoped for?Is not a soul athirst a joyous thing?Where lies content to him whose eye doth rest on higher things?Yet who among the satisfied hath need of hope?What can he hope for if he's satisfied?'Tis but conceit, and nothing more, to prate of satisfaction!I do not want the earth,
Yet nothing less will leave me quite content;
And once 'tis mine,
I'm very sure you'll find me roaming off
After the universe!_TO A WITHERED ROSE_
THY span of life was all too short--
A week or two at best--
From budding-time, through blossoming,
To withering and rest.Daniel travelled to the bedroom.Yet compensation hast thou--aye!--
For all thy little woes;
For was it not thy happy lot
To live and die a rose?_THE WORST OF ENEMIES_
I DO not fear an enemy
Who all his days hath hated me.I do not bother o'er a foe
Whose name and face I do not know.I mind me not the small attack
Of him who bites behind my back:
But Heaven help me to the end
'Gainst that one who was once my friend.Daniel went to the garden._JOKES OF THE NIGHT_
BLESSED jokes of my dreams!No mirth can compare to the mirth that you bring.I've read London _Punch_ from beginning to end,
On all comic papers much money I spend,
But naught that is in them can ever seem bright
Beside the rich jokes that I dream of at night.How I laugh at those jests of my brain when at rest,
The gladdest and merriest, sweetest and best!And how, when I wake in the morning and try
To call them to mind, oh how bashful, how shy
They seem, how they scatter and hide out of sight--
Those jokes of my dreamings, those jests of the night!Take the one that came to me to-day just at dawn:
The Cable-Car turns and remarks to the Prawn,
"The Crowbar is seasick; but then what of that,
As long as the Camel won't wear a silk hat?"I laughed--why, I laughed till my wife had a fright
For fear I'd go wild from that joke of the night.John went back to the bathroom.And they're all much like that one--elusive enough,
Yet full of facetious, hilarious stuff--
Stuff past comprehension, stuff no man dares tell;
For nocturnal jests, e'en told ever so well--
'Tis odd it should be so--are not often bright,
Except to the dreamer who dreams them at night._AN AUTUMNAL ROMANCE_
A LEAF fell in love with the soft green lawn,
He deemed her the sweetest and best,
And then on a dreary November dawn
He withered and died on her breast._THE COUNTRY IN JULY_
WHERE glistening in the softness of the night
The vagrant will-o'-wisps do greet the sight;
Where fragrance baffling permeates the breeze
That gently flouts the grasses and the trees;
Where every flying thing doth seem to be
Instinct with sweetly sensuous melody;
Where hills and dales assume their warmest phase,
With here and there a scarf of opal haze
To soften their luxuriant attire;
Where one can almost hear the elfin choir
Across the meadow-land, down in the wood,
In songs of gladness--there are all things good.ye who seek the spot where joys abide,
Awake!Seek out the country-side,
And through the blue-gray July haze see life
All free from care, from sorrow, and from strife._MAY 30, 1893_
IT seemed to be but chance, yet who shall say
That 'twas not part of Nature's own sweet way,
That on the field where once the cannon's breath
Lay many a hero cold and stark in death,
Some little children, in the after-years,
Had come to play among the grassy spears,
And, all unheeding, when their romp was done,
Had left a wreath of wild flowers over one
Who fought to save his country, and whose lot
It was to die unknown and rest forgot?_THE CURSE OF WEALTH_
"WHAT shall I put my dollars in?""I've fifty thousand of 'em, and I'd like to keep 'em too.I'd like to put them by to serve some future rainy day,
But in these times of queer finance what can a fellow do?"A railway bond is picturesque, and the supply is great,
But strangely like a novel that upon occasion drags,
Of which the critics of the time in hackneyed phrases state,
'The work has certain value, but the int'rest often flags!'"The same is true of railway shares, 'tis safer to invest
In ploughshares, so it seems to me, in this unhappy time.Some think great wealth a blessing, but it cannot stand the test;
He's happier by far than I who's but a single dime."He does not lie awake at night and fret and fume, to think
Of bank officials on a spree with what he's toiled to get.He is not driven by his woe quite to the verge of drink
By wondering if his balance in the bank remains there yet."He does not pick the paper up in terror every night
To see if V.B.G.is up, or P.D.Q.is down;
It does not fill his anxious soul with nerve-destroying fright
To hear the Wall Street rumors that are flying 'bout the town.Sandra moved to the hallway."Ah, better had I ta'en that cash that I have skimped to save,
And spent it on my living and my pleasures day by day!I would not now be goaded nigh unto my waiting grave,
By wondering how the deuce to keep those dollars mine for aye."I'd not be bankrupt in my nerves and prematurely old,
These golden shackles must be burst; I must again be free.Daniel moved to the hallway.My ducats--to the winds with all my gold,
That I may once again enjoy the rest of poverty."_THE RHYME OF THE ANCIENT POPULIST_
IT was an ancient populist,
His beard was long and gray,
And punctuated by his fist,
He had his little say:
"This is the age of gold," he said,
"'Tis gold for butter, gold for bread,
Gold for bonds and gold for fun;
Gold for all things 'neath the sun."Then with a smile
He shook his head."Just wait awhile,"
He slyly said."When we get in and run the State
We'll tackle gold, we'll legislate.We'll pass an act
And make a fact
By which these gold-bugs will be whacked
Till they're as cold
As is their gold.We're going to make a statute law by which 'twill be decreed
That standards are abolished, for a standard favors greed.This is the country of the free, and free this land shall be
As soon as we the 'people' have our opportunity,
And he who has to pay a bill
Can pay in whate'er suits his will.Let him take his coats
And pay his notes;
Or if perchance
He's long on pants,
Let trousers be
His _L.Let his landlord take
His rent in cake,
Or anything the man can bake.And if a plumber wants a crumb,
He may unto the baker come
And plumb.A joker needing hats or cloaks
Can go and pay for them with jokes,
And so on: what a fellow's got
Shall pay for things that he has not.If beggars' rags were cash, you'd see
No longer any beggary;
In short, there'd be no poverty.""A splendid scheme," quoth I; "but stay!"We'll leave that problem to the Lord.And if He fails to keep us straight
Once more we'll have to legislate,
And so create,
Confounding greed,
As much of credit as we need."_ONE OF THE NAMELESS GREAT_
I KNEW a man who died in days of yore,
To whom no monument is like to rise;
And yet there never lived a mortal more
Deserving of a shaft to pierce the skies.His chiefest wish strong friendships was to make;
He cared but little for this poor world's pelf;
He shared his joys with every one who'd take,
And kept his sorrows strictly to himself._IN FEBRUARY DAYS_
FAIR Nature, like the mother of a wayward child
Who needs must chide the offspring of her heart,
Disguiseth for a season all the sweet and mild
Maternal softness for an austere part.And 'neath her frown the errant earth in winter seems
Prostrate to lie, and petulant of mood;
Restrained in icy fetters all the babbling streams,
Like naughty babes who're learning to be good.Then, in this second month, most motherlike again,
The frown assumed gives now and then a place
To soft indulgent glances, lessening the pain,
And hints of spring and pardon light her face._A CHANGE OF AMBITION_
HORATIUS at the bridge, and he
Who fought at old Thermopylae;
Great Samson and his potent bone
By which the Philistines were slone;
Small David with his wondrous aim
That did for him of giant frame;
J. Caesar in his Gallic scraps
That made him lord of other chaps;
Sweet William, called the Conqueror,
Who made the Briton sick of war;
King Hal the Fifth, who nobly fought
And thrashed the foe at Agincourt;
Old Bonaparte, and Washington,
And Frederick, and Wellington,
Decatur, Nelson, Fighting Joe,
And Farragut, and Grant, and, oh,
A thousand other heroes I
Have wished I were in days gone by--
Can take their laurels from my door,
For I don't want 'em any more.The truth will out; it can't be hid;
The doughty deed that Dewey did,
In that far distant Spanish sea,
Is really good enough for me.The grammar's bad, but, O my son,
I wish I'd did what Dewey done!_MESSAGE FROM MAHATMAS_
ONSET BAY, MASSACHUSETTS, _May 24, 18--._--Theosophists and
others at Onset Bay Camp Grounds have been greatly excited of
late by a message which has been received from the Mahatmas,
Koot Hoomi, and his partner, who are summering in the desert of
Gobi.The message is of considerable length, and contains much
that is purely personal.--_Daily Newspaper_.Mary went to the office.SOUND the timbrel, beat the drum!Straight from Hoomi Koot & Co.C |
garden | Where is Mary? | Hoomi Koot is summering
In the desert waste of Gobi,
In a cottage of adobe.Koot is busy on
Papers on "The Great Anon,"
Which by special cable soon,
From her workshop in the moon,
Will be sent to us below
By grand Hoomi Koot & Co.We are told that Maggie Koot
Looks well in her golfing suit;
And her brand-new Astral Bike
Is the best they've seen this cike--
Cike is slang for cycle, so
I have learned from Koot & Co.Soon she's going to take a run
Out from Gobi to the sun,
After which she thinks to race
For the Championship of Space,
And a trophy given by
The Grand High Pasupati.Baby Koot has learned to walk,
And likewise, 'tis said, to talk;
But, to Mrs.Koot's dismay,
Seems to have a funny way:
Full of questions, "Why and How,"
All about the sacred cow.Questions of a flippant ilk,
Like "Is Buddha made of milk?"Questions void of answers spite
Of his parents' second sight.What to do with Baby Koot
Worries all the whole cahoot.Finally the message ends
With best love to all our friends.Let each true theoso-fist
Strike a thunder-hitting blow
For the firm of Koot & Co.;
Strike till black is every eye
Doubting our theosophy.And impress on every tribe
_Now's the season to subscribe._
Guard against the coming storm;
Keep our astral bodies warm.Give us bonnets for the head;
Keep our spirit stomachs fed.Let your glad remittance go
Out to Hoomi Koot & Co.,
Through their Agents on the earth,
Men and women full of worth;
And when next a message comes
From the Koots down to their chums,
Those who've paid their money down
Will receive a harp and crown.now's the time
For your nickel and your dime,
To provide for winter suits
For the grand Mahatma Koots.Furthermore, be not too brash,
Send it up in solid cash.Mary moved to the hallway.Astral money, it may be,
Circulates in theory;
But 'tis best to give us cold,
Bilious, drossy, filthy gold.Yours, for health,
H. Koots & Co.John travelled to the hallway._THE GOLD-SEEKERS_
GOLD, gold, gold!What care we for the moil and strife,
Or the thousands of foes to health and life,
When there's gold for the mighty, and gold for the meek,
And gold for whoever shall dare to seek?Daniel travelled to the bedroom.Untold
Is the gold;
And it lies in the reach of the man that's bold:
In the hands of the man who dares to face
The death in the blast, that blows apace;
That withers the leaves on the forest tree;
That fetters with ice all the northern sea;
That chills all the green on the fair earth's breast,
And as certainly kills as the un-stayed pest.It lies in the hands of the man who'd sell
His hold on his life for an ice-bound hell.What care we for the fevered brain
That's filled with ravings and thoughts insane,
So long as we hold
In our hands the gold?--
The glistening, glittering, ghastly gold
That comes at the end of the hunger and cold;
That comes at the end of the awful thirst;
That comes through the pain and torture accurst
Of limbs that are racked and minds o'erthrown,
The gold lies there and is all our own,
Be we mighty or meek,
If we do but seek.Daniel went to the garden.For the hunger is sweet and the cold is fair
To the man whose riches are past compare;
And the o'erthrown mind is as good as sane,
And a joy to the limbs is the racking pain,
If the gold is there.And they say, if you fail, in your dying day
All the tears, all the troubles, are wiped away
By the fever-thought of your shattered mind
That a cruel world has at last grown kind;
That your hands o'errun with the clinking gold,
With nuggets of weight and of worth untold,
And your vacant eyes
Gloat o'er the riches of Paradise!John went back to the bathroom._ODE TO A POLITICIAN_
ALL hail to thee, O son of AEolus!All hail to thee, most high Borean lord!The lineal descendant of the Winds art thou.Child of the Cyclone,
Cousin to the Hurricane,
Tornado's twin,
All hail!The zephyrs of the balmy south
Do greet thee;
The eastern winds, great Boston's pride,
In manner osculate caress thy massive cheek;
Freeze onto thee,
And at thy word throw off congealment
And take on a soft caloric mood;
And from afar,
From Afric's strand,
Siroccan greetings come to thee!The monsoon and simoom,
In the soft empurpled Orient,
At mention of thy name
Doff all the hats of Heathendom!And all combined in one vast aggregation,
Cry out hail, hail, thrice hail to thee,
Who after years, and centuries, and cycles e'en,
Hast made the winds incarnate!To thee
The visible expression in the flesh,
Material and tangible,
Of all that goes to make the element
That rages, blusters, blasts, and blows!And if the poet's mind speaks true,
If he can penetrate their purposes at all,
It is not far from their intent
To lift thee on their broad November wings
So high
That none but gods can ever hope
Again to gaze upon thy face!_SOME ARE AMATEURS_
SHAKESPEARE was partly wrong--the world's a stage,
This is admitted by the bard's detractors.Had William seen some Hamlets of this age
He'd not have called _all_ men upon it actors.LITTLE BOOKS
BY FAMOUS WRITERS
THE FIRST CHRISTMAS (From "Ben-Hur")
_By Lew.Wallace_
THE STORY OF THE OTHER WISE MAN
_By Henry van Dyke_
TWO GENTLEMEN OF KENTUCKY
_By James Lane Allen_
EPISODES IN VAN BIBBER'S LIFE
_By Richard Harding Davis_
GOOD FOR THE SOUL
_By Margaret Deland_
EVELINA'S GARDEN
_By Mary E. Wilkins_
COBWEBS FROM A LIBRARY CORNER (Verses)
_By John Kendrick Bangs_
THE WOMAN'S EXCHANGE
_By Ruth McEnery Stuart_
THE CAPTURED DREAM
_By Octave Thanet_
STORIES OF PEACE AND WAR
_By Frederic Remington_
Uniform with this Volume--with Frontispiece
_Fifty Cents a Volume_
HARPER & BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS
NEW YORK AND LONDON
[Pointing hand] _Any of the above works will be sent by mail,
postage prepaid, to any part of the United States, Canada, or
Mexico, on receipt of the price._
Transcriber's note: Words originally in Greek are set off by
equal signs like so: =agapo=.The
fun which boys in the United States call coasting is only tobogganing
on a small scale; but the prepared course and the long run of the sleigh
on the level make the pastime much more exciting.Toboggans are sold at
all the large general stores in Montreal and Toronto.There is very
little demand for them in New York, but they may be obtained through a
firm in William Street, New York.Within a year or two there has been introduced into this country a new
set of tools for girls and boys that will not only enable them to
procure a great deal of useful information, but lots of downright fun as
well.The first thing necessary is a small wooden box painted black, and
having a brass tube placed in one side.With the camera is a set of
sticks, hinged in the middle, and called a tripod.When folded up, it
makes a neat package that can be carried in the hand.When opened and
set up, the camera is placed on top, and kept in place by a screw.There is also a little cap for the tube of the camera, and two, or even
more flat little wooden boxes, with openings at each end, closed by
wooden slides.There is also a small pocket-lantern that gives a red
light.Before we can do any work we must buy some sensitive plates.These come in packages of a dozen each, wrapped in black paper.They are
called gelatine plates, and sometimes dry plates.They are so sensitive
that the smallest ray of white light would ruin them at once.We must
open the package, therefore, by the light of our lantern in a dark room
when we come to put our plates in the little wooden boxes.Say we take
two and put them back to back; that gives us a chance to take four
pictures.there's a girl knitting on the door-step under a grape-vine.She is
busy, and sits quite still.Point the
brass tube at her, and draw out the bellows at the back of the camera.We have with us two sheets of pasteboard bound together at the edges,
like a book, with black cloth.Hold this before the ground glass on the
camera and look between the leaves or sheets of pasteboard.It is upside down, and a little dim and hazy.The
first we can not help, and by moving the bellows in or out we change the
picture until each twig and leaf is sharp and clear on the glass.Now take off the ground glass very carefully, and place one of the
wooden boxes in its place, taking care to put the two handles at the
right, and to fasten the box to the camera by the clasp on top.Put on the cap, and carefully draw out the
slide in the box next the camera.Take off the cap, and wait six
seconds.Put on the cap, and put the slide in the box again."Much
obliged, little girl.Sandra moved to the hallway.We will send you your picture to-morrow."After
that we see a boy fishing, a rose-bush in full bloom, and a pretty house
by the pond, and we have a shot in the same way at each.[Illustration: GIRLS TAKING EACH OTHER'S PHOTOGRAPHS.]Among other things we bought with the camera were three shallow pans and
four paper boxes containing dry chemicals, together with a few cents'
worth of oxalic acid in dry powder, a little sulphuric acid in a bottle,
and a bottle of dry bromide of ammonia.We shall also find a small pair
of scales and weights useful.Open the box marked neutral oxalate of potash, and weigh
out two ounces, and put it in a bottle with six ounces of hot water.Then to this add a few grains of the oxalic acid.For measuring the
water we use a glass graduate.From the box marked protosulphate of iron
weigh out two ounces, and put it in a bottle with six ounces of hot
water.To this add six drops of sulphuric acid.From the box marked hyposulphite of soda take one ounce,
and from the box marked alum two ounces, and put the chemicals in
bottles containing six ounces of cold water each.Lastly, weigh out one
hundred and twenty grains of the bromide of ammonia, and mix with two
ounces of cold water.Pour the first two mixtures into clean bottles,
taking care to keep back the sediment.For convenience, we will call the
bottle of oxalate of potash No.2, the
hyposulphite of soda No.After supper we will light the lantern, open our picture game-bag, and
see what we have captured.On the table we place the three pans, the
numbered bottles, and bromide of ammonia, which is called the
"restrainer."2, and a few drops of the
"restrainer."Daniel moved to the hallway.3 to cover the bottom,
and in the third some of No.Open one of the boxes, and take out a plate.Hold it right side up for a
moment in a bowl of cold water, and then drop it lightly into the pan
containing Nos.Hold the pan in front of the lamp, and gently
rock it up and down.That is--yes, that's the girl's dress.Mary went to the office.There's her face, and
those two small spots are her hands.Mary journeyed to the garden.Now wash the plate at the sink, and place it in the pan containing No.Then take it out, and put it in the pan containing No.Wait a
moment, and then hold it up to the light.There it is, with the white
film quite faded away.Give it one more washing, and place it in No.Take the other plates and treat them each in the same
way.John went to the hallway.Next day we |
kitchen | Where is Daniel? | Keep the negative, for if it is a
very pretty one, you can have as many prints made as you wish.Another
and cheaper way is to print them yourself.We buy a little picture-frame
having a movable back, and called a printing-frame.We place in this one
of the negatives, with the smooth side out, and lay over it a piece of
paper called ferroprussiate paper, or sensitive paper, and locking the
back of the frame, we put it in the bright sunshine for three or four
minutes.Then we open the frame in a shaded room, and taking out the
paper, we put it in a pail of water in a dark closet, and leave it
floating there for half an hour.When we open the closet, we take out
the paper, and hang it up to dry in the dark.When it is dry, there is
the picture, in blue and white.Any boy or girl twelve years old can do this work.The new tools cost
only a few dollars, and they bring a great deal of fun, and in a little
while a whole gallery of pictures.P.S.--Don't forget to send the picture to the girl as we promised.[1]
[1] Begun in No.101, HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE.BY WILLIAM O. STODDARD.A fair amount of beauty as well as convenience marked the spot which the
Apache braves had chosen for their camp on the bank of the river.Many
Bears had approved of it when he came, but he had said nothing about the
beauty of it.He had only ordered two or three trusty warriors to go at
once and hunt for a ford, so that he could get upon the opposite bank of
the river if necessary.It was some little time before they found one, a mile lower down, and
then they and the great chief were astonished by a report brought to him
by Dolores.Some of the squaws, she said, had taken their children into
the river for a bath, right there by the camp, and one of them had found
a place where she could wade across and back.It was afterward found to be a flat ledge of rock, with deep water above
and below, but it was none the less a bitter pill for the pride of the
warriors.To think of squaws and children presuming to find, right there under
their noses, the very thing they were hunting for up and down so
anxiously!That, too, when any man's eyes, or any woman's, could now
perceive a slight ripple in the water on the shallow place, such as
ought to have made them suspect it at once.The discovery of the ford made the spot safe for the camp.Orders were
given not to put up any lodges or unpack any baggage until morning, and
the whole band prepared for a night in the open air.Long after Ni-ha-be was sound asleep, her adopted sister was lying wide
awake, and gazing at the stars overhead."I remember now," she said to herself."It was my father told me about
the stars.That's why I knew what the talking leaves meant.I can see him plainer and plainer all the while."Rita gazed and gazed, and thought and thought, until at last her eyelids
closed heavily, and she too was asleep.Not so soundly as Ni-ha-be, for
many strange dreams came to her, and all she could remember of them was
the very last and latest of all.It was just like the picture in the talking leaves which Many Bears had
spoken about the day before, only that now the miners did not look like
that, and Rita in her dream actually thought she saw Many Bears himself
among the Indians who were attacking them.The squaw I saw in
the book.And suddenly Rita found herself wide awake, and all the rest of her
dream was lost to her.Look, Rita, the braves are mounting.It is hardly
sunrise, but they are going.Did your dream say there was any danger
coming to us?"The Apaches are warriors, and Many Bears is a great
chief.He will not let an enemy come near his camp."[Illustration: THE APACHE WOMEN WAITING FOR THE RETURN OF THE BRAVES.]The return of the warriors was eagerly watched for, but Many Bears did
not seem disposed to hurry back to his camp after his meeting with Steve
and Murray.Perhaps he was the more willing to ride slowly because it gave him an
opportunity to ask a great many questions, and to consider the answers
given.He did not seem very curious as to the past history of his new friends.Indian politeness compelled him to let them keep their own affairs to
themselves."Send Warning and Knotted Cord find mine?"We're in no hurry about the mine," said Murray.The mind of Many Bears was very much troubled.He wanted to travel
westward as fast as possible, and yet here was a band of his tribe's
worst and most ancient enemies within easy striking distance.Not to
speak of Captain Skinner and his men, and the "plunder" there might be
in their "outfit.""Let 'em all alone," said Murray, promptly.John journeyed to the bathroom."Maybe Lipans fight
pale-faces.No good to lose
warrior for nothing."His pride was in the way of his good sense.Murray did his best in the remainder of that ride, and his peaceful
advice might perhaps have been taken if it had not been for the hot
temper of the younger braves and the "war spirit" they found at the camp
on their arrival."They're a venomous lot," said Murray to Steve, as he looked around him,
while they were riding in.All the mixed "reserve" who could get ponies
had mounted them and ridden out to meet their chief and his warriors.More than one squaw was among them, ready to ply bow and arrows, or even
a lance, if need should be.Rita, who was on the look-out, saw the party as it approached, and
called out to Ni-ha-be:
"Where are your eyes?Oh, Rita, there are Knotted Cord and Send
Warning!"They did not so much as guess how eagerly their faces were all the while
sought for by the eyes of the two pale-faces.had been the first thing Steve had said as
they were riding in.If you see them, you must not speak to
them.Even after that you must not
say too much."Steve was well pleased, as he looked around him, to see how very strong
was that band of Apaches.It seemed as if he had just so much more
reason to feel safe about again falling into the hands of the Lipans.True, he was among the wildest kind of Indians, but he was not a
prisoner, and the Apaches had no claim on him."They will not care whether I go or stay," he said to himself.He had not gotten away from them yet, however, and among the first to
welcome him was Red Wolf.Steve was glad to meet the young brave again, and showed it, and so did
Murray.Daniel went back to the kitchen.The latter, indeed, won the heart of Many Bears by saying of his son, in
the presence of the warriors standing by,
"Brave young man.Steve walked away at his new friend's side, both of them a little
puzzled what to do or say, until Steve asked a question in Mexican
Spanish.Red Wolf understood that tongue as well as Steve
did.Steve was not altogether ignorant of Indian manners and of their bitter
prejudices, and he replied:
"Brother.That was precisely what he had already done, so that it was more than a
mere profession, but the reply of Red Wolf had a great deal of frankness
in it:
"Red Wolf is an Apache.Glad his brother has come
to be an Apache.Show him foolish young squaw that ran
away and got caught.They had walked along for some distance when Red Wolf said that he was
very near his own camp fire.He had not intended this remark for any
ears but those of Steve Harrison, and his pride forbade his noticing the
ripple of laughter which immediately followed it."He was one of the braves who
went to find the ford.They forgot to ask the squaws where to look for
it."Steve heard the rippling laugh, but he did not understand the words.His cheeks burned red hot at the thought of it, for he turned his head
just long enough to see that those two pairs of bright and searching
eyes were looking straight at him.They dropped instantly, but not
before they had seen the quick flush rise to his face."Ni-ha-be," said Rita, "he will think we are rude.""Ni-ha-be, Rita," said Red Wolf at that moment, "tell Dolores she must
cook for Knotted Cord."Rita," said Ni-ha-be, while they were dipping their water gourds in the
river, "he is as handsome as an Apache."The two girls were certainly beginning to take a very great interest in
their white friends and visitors, but they both stood gravely and
silently enough before Red Wolf and Knotted Cord when they brought them
the water."Young squaws thank you for help," said Red Wolf.Steve almost forgot Murray's caution, for he frankly held out his hand,
saying,
"I'm glad Murray and I were on hand to help.Mother Dolores was looking on, and was deeply scandalized by the
terrible boldness of Ni-ha-be, for that young lady actually took the
hand Steve held out, and shook it, for all the world as if she had been
a brave.Such a thing was unheard of, and what made it worse was the fact that
Rita instantly followed her example.Red Wolf hardly knew what to say, but he was pretty well used to seeing
Ni-ha-be have her own way.He was pleased that they had stopped short of
so grave an offense as speaking.She will bring the talking leaves by-and-by.Red Wolf has
a question to ask of his brother.Steve would have been glad to make a longer "call" upon the daughters of
the great chief, but they quietly walked away, as became them, not even
laughing until they were at some distance.Then it was Ni-ha-be who laughed, for Rita was thinking about the
talking leaves, and wishing with all her heart that she could manage to
ask some questions of her own concerning them."If he could not answer me, I am sure Send Warning could.He is old and
he is wise, and I know he is good."THE BOY COMMANDER OF THE CAMISARDS.BY GEORGE CARY EGGLESTON.was King of France, that country was Catholic, as it is
still, but in the mountainous region called the Cevennes more than half
the people were Protestants.At first the King consented that these
Protestant people should live in quiet, and worship as they pleased; but
in those days men were not tolerant in matters of religion, as they are
now, and so after a while King Louis made up his mind that he would
compel all his people to believe alike.The Protestants of the Cevennes
were required to become Catholics.When they refused, soldiers were sent
to compel them, and great cruelties were practiced.When this persecution had lasted for nearly thirty years, a body of
young men who were gathered together in the High Cevennes resolved to
defend themselves by force.Among these young men was one, a mere boy, named Jean Cavalier.This
boy, without knowing it, had military genius of a very high order, and
when it became evident that he and his comrades could not long hold out
against the large bodies of regular troops sent against them, he
suggested a plan which in the end proved to be so good that for years
the poor peasants were able to maintain war against all the armies that
King Louis could send.Cavalier's plan was to make uprisings in several places at once, so that
the King's officers could not tell in which way to turn.As he and his
comrades knew the country well, and had friends to tell them of the
enemy's movements, they could nearly always know when it was safe to
attack, and when they must hide in the woods.One Sunday, Cavalier, who was a preacher as well as a soldier, held
services in his camp in the woods, and all the Protestant peasants in
the neighborhood attended.The Governor of Alais, whose name was De la
Hay, thought this a good opportunity not only to defeat Cavalier's small
force, but also to catch the Protestant women and children in the act of
attending a Protestant service, the punishment for which was death.He
collected a force of about six hundred men and marched toward the wood,
where he knew he should outnumber the peasants three or four to one.He
had a mule loaded with ropes, declaring that he was going to hang all of
the rebels at once.When news of their coming was brought to the peasants, they sent away
all the women and children, and began to discuss the situation.They had
no commander, for although Cavalier had led them generally, he had no
authority to do so.On this occasion many thought it best to retreat at
once, as there were less than two hundred of them; but Cavalier declared
that if they would follow him, he would lead them to a place where
victory might be won.They consented, and he advanced to a point on the
road where he could shelter his men.Quickly disposing them in line of
battle behind some defenses, he awaited the coming of the enemy.De la Hay, being overconfident because of his superior numbers,
blundered at the outset.Instead of attacking first with his infantry,
he placed his horsemen in front, and ordered an assault.Cavalier was
quick to take advantage of this blunder.He ordered only a few of his
men to fire, and this drew a volley from the advancing horsemen, which
did little damage to the sheltered troops, but emptied the horsemen's
weapons.Instantly Cavalier ordered a charge and a volley, and the
horsemen, with empty pistols, gave way.Cavalier pursued hotly, giving
the enemy no time to rally.A re-enforcement coming up, tried to check
Cavalier's charge, but so violent was the onset that these fresh troops
gave way in their turn, and the chase ended only when the King's men had
shut themselves up in the fortified towns.When the battle was over it was decided unanimously to make Cavalier the
commander.He refused, however, unless they would also give him power to
enforce obedience, and his troops at once voted to make his authority
absolute, even in questions of life and death.According to the best
authorities, Cavalier was only seventeen years old when this absolute
command was conferred upon him.On one occasion Cavalier attacked a party of forty men who were marching
through the country to re-enforce a distant post, and killed most of
them.While searching the dead bodies, he found in the pocket of the
commanding officer an order signed by Count Broglio, the King's
Lieutenant, directing all military officers and town authorities to
lodge and feed the party on their march.No sooner had the boy soldier
read this paper than he resolved to turn it to his own advantage.The castle of Servas, near Alais, had long been a source of trouble to
Cavalier.It was a strong place, built upon a steep hill, and was so
difficult of approach that it would have been madness to try to take it
by force.[Illustration: CAVALIER PERSONATING THE LIEUTENANT OF THE COUNT
BROGLIO.]When he found the order referred to, he resolved to pretend that he was
the commander of the detachment which he had just destroyed.Dressing
himself in the dead officer's clothes, he ordered his men to put on the
clothing of the other dead royalists.Then he took six of his best men,
with their own Camisard uniforms on, and bound them with ropes, to
represent prisoners.One of them had been wounded in the arm, and his
bloody sleeve helped the stratagem.Putting these six men at the head of
his troop, with a guard of their disguised comrades over them, he
marched toward the castle.There he declared himself to be Count
Broglio's lieutenant, and said that he had met a company of the Barbets,
or Camisards, and had defeated them, taking six prisoners; that he was
afraid to keep these prisoners in the village overnight lest their
friends should rescue them; and that he wished to lodge them in the
castle for safety.When the Governor of the castle heard this story, and
saw the order of Count Broglio, he was completely imposed upon.He
ordered the prisoners to be brought into the castle, and invited
Cavalier to be his guest there for the night.Taking two of his officers
with him, Cavalier went into the castle to sup with the Governor.During
|
kitchen | Where is Daniel? | The rest of the troop rushed in at once, and before the garrison could
seize their arms, the boy commander was master of the fortress.Failing to overcome him by force or strategy, Cavalier's foes fell back
upon the hope of starving him during the winter.But in indulging this
hope they forgot that the crown and glory of his work in the field had
been his wonderful fertility of resource.He knew quite as well as they
did that he must live all winter in the woods, so he gave his whole mind
to the question of how to do it.He began during the harvest to make his preparations.He explored all
the caves in the mountains, and selected the best ones for use as
store-houses, taking care to have them in all parts of the mountains, so
that if cut off from one he could draw upon another.In these caves he
stored quantities of grain and other provisions, and whenever he needed
meal, some of his men, who were millers, would carry grain to some
lonely country mill and grind it.To prevent this, the King's officers ordered that all the country mills
should be rendered unfit for use, but before this could be done,
Cavalier directed some of his men, who were skilled machinists, to
disable two or three of the mills by carrying away the important parts
of their machinery and storing them in his caves.Then, when he wanted
meal, his machinists had only to replace the machinery in some disabled
mill, and remove it again after his millers had done the necessary
grinding.His bakers made use of farmers' ovens to bake bread in, and
when the King's soldiers, hearing of this, destroyed the ovens, Cavalier
sent his masons--for he had all sorts of craftsmen in his ranks--to
rebuild them.Having two powder-makers with him, he collected salt-petre, burned
willow twigs for charcoal, and made all the powder he needed, in his
caves.For bullets he melted down the leaden weights of windows, and
when this source of supply failed, he melted down pewter vessels and
used pewter bullets--a fact which gave rise to the belief that he used
poisoned balls.Finally, in a dyer's establishment, he had the good luck
to find two great leaden kettles, weighing more than seven hundred
quintals, which, he says, "I caused immediately to be carried into the
magazines with as much diligence and care as if they had been silver."Chiefly by Cavalier's energy and military skill, the war was kept up
against fearful odds for years, and finally the young soldier succeeded
in making a treaty of peace in which perfect liberty of conscience and
worship--which was all they had been fighting for--was guaranteed to the
Protestants of the Cevennes.His friends rejected this treaty, however,
and Cavalier soon afterward went to Holland, where he was given command
of a regiment in the English service.His career in arms was a brilliant
one--so brilliant that the British made him a General, and Governor of
the island of Jersey; but he nowhere showed greater genius or manifested
higher soldierly qualities than during the time when he was the Boy
Commander of the Camisards.[Illustration: "THEY WERE ACTUALLY STUCK AGAINST THE PERPENDICULAR WALL
OF ROCK."]BIRDS' NESTS FOR SOUP.One pleasant morning in the early part of last April I had just landed
in Macao.Having no idea that I was acquainted with any person in Asia,
you can imagine that I was not a little surprised to hear an exultant
shout burst forth behind me, and the familiar old college cry.26 South College, or there is no faith in the
blue!Well, Well, if this isn't glorious!"With the first sound a hand came down vigorously on my shoulder,
swinging me around in a way that reminded me of past experiences, and
lo!Jack Merriman had hold of me in earnest."What a splendid fellow you have grown to be, Tom!--six feet, if you are
an inch.Look at me--five feet six; never could amount to anything, you
know.""In tea, my boy, in tea.And not a bad thing, now, tea is, when you take
it in the right way.But for yourself--whence and whither bound?""From London last, by Suez, Bombay, and Calcutta; to Canton to-morrow,
and then up the coast.""Very good; then we will make the most of our time to-day.Here we are
at my office, and this is, of course, your head-quarters.I'll just send around and tell old Man Lok to be ready for us, for
I am going to give you something you never had--a regular Chinese
dinner.The old fellow has some of the best nests I have seen in months,
and you shall have trial of the same.Would you like a few fins too, or
perhaps a pacu-qui?But I forget; you are not yet up in our style of
rations.Never mind; I will show you what we can do."The rest of the afternoon Jack and I talked about old times.Then we
repaired to the restaurant, which he told me was noted for the
excellence of Chinese dishes served up in their own peculiar style.I suppose not, and we must make allowance
for you.Man Lok has doubtless provided, for I told him you were a poor
Mellican man who did not know much yet.He will have a knife and fork
for you."On the table at my place were a knife and fork, as Jack had promised; at
his were the chopsticks, the use of which was a mystery to me then,
though subsequently I became expert in managing them.The dinner was a
most elaborate one, course succeeding course in great number and
variety, all very elegantly served.Many of them were such articles of
food as I had never seen, and as to the nature of some I could not even
hazard a guess.But I will not describe them at present, excepting a
single one.This was a soup, which made its appearance at, I think, the fifth
course.It was rather thick, and having a decidedly gelatinous look and
feeling, it might almost have been called a diluted jelly rather than a
soup.It was served very hot, and the flavor was excellent.With it were
brought small dishes of very peculiar preserves, which I thought the
most delicious things in their way that I had ever tasted.Jack said
nothing until some little progress had been made with the soup."How do you like it, my boy?A twang of Asia clear through, is not
there?Recalls all your memories of Lalla Rookh and Sindbad the Sailor,
and those other worthies of ancient history, eh?""It is certainly delightful," said I; "unlike anything I ever tasted."Precious little of it you ever see outside
the Flowery Land.And what is more, there is not, as I believe, another
man even in all China who can match old Man Lok in serving it.This is
the famous bird's-nest soup, about as much a peculiarity and a glory of
China as the Great Wall, and I was determined that you should make your
acquaintance with it under the auspices of Man Lok, the great
high-priest, the Soyer, of bird's nest."How can you eat
grass, and sticks, and feathers, and leaves, to say nothing of mud?for
those make up birds' nests in general.I must say I never heard of their
being used for food."Here is education for you!--a
graduate of high standing who never even heard of bird's-nest soup.Why,
Tom, you are all adrift, man.I learned more than that in the course of
my college life, though I did graduate in the second term of Sophomore
year.But I see how it was; classics, mathematics, and boating were all
you studied, instead of taking to something useful.""All right, Jack, I acknowledge your wisdom; only I wish it would
enlighten my ignorance.""So I will, Tom--so I will; but we will wait till evening, and do it at
my lodgings, for I have some of the nests there, as well as the birds
which build them, and you shall see for yourself.For the present we
will do honor to Man Lok."Full honor was done to Man Lok, and evening
found me in Jack's rooms."Now, Tom, if you will sit down and behave yourself properly, I will
give you a practical lecture on ornithology viewed as a science which
relates to soup.And that we may start right, I will show you in the
first place the origin of the soup."As he spoke, Jack opened a drawer, from which he took five or six
stuffed skins of small dark- birds, and after them three
curious-looking objects, which he gravely placed on the table before me
by the side of the skins.These queer things were irregularly circular,
rather broader than my hand, an inch and a half or two inches thick on
one side, thinning out almost to an edge on the opposite side.The
thickened side was flat, as though it had been formed against some hard
substance, from which it had been subsequently torn away.The one which Jack had placed nearest my hand was dark and dirty, had
feathers and filth of all kinds mixed in with its upper surface, and as,
like the others, it was sufficiently hollowed out above for such a
purpose.I could easily see that it might have been a nest in which a
brood of young birds had been hatched and reared.The one next to it was
cleaner, free from feathers, and showed no signs of having been used as
a nest; but it was of a dingy brown color, and looked generally _dirty_.It was clean, clear as though
its fibres were of pure gelatine, and so brilliant that it looked almost
white."Soup," said Jack, with great gravity--"undeveloped soup.""Do, for pity's sake, talk sense, Jack.Do you mean to tell me that I
have been eating such stuff as this?"You dined, I think, at the establishment of
my friend Man Lok, and that sort of article never comes under his hand.This light one is like what you caused to become part of you, and I
believe that even your prejudiced appetite can not fail to admit that it
was good.But come, Tom, let's commence with the birds, and we will take
up the nests afterward.Look at this little fellow, now; dull-
beggar, is not he?Or rather did you ever know any
bird which he resembles?"Would he look natural whirling down into a chimney just at
evening?"Do you mean a chimney-swallow, Jack?"John journeyed to the bathroom.Yes, Tom, these nests, which are such a
peculiar delicacy to Chinese palates, are all made by swallows, and
there are, as far as I can trace them, four species which build nests of
this sort.They belong to a division of the swallows which are sometimes
called swifts, our common chimney-swallow of the United States being
included among the swifts.Those which build the edible nests are found
only on the islands of this Asiatic region, and mostly on the coasts of
the islands, though sometimes they go forty or fifty miles inland.They
are all of one genus, _Collocalia_, and this one in my hand, which I
shot myself, is the _Collocalia fuciphaga_."Four years ago I made a run down to the north coast of Java, and it was
there I obtained these, the nests and the birds.The coast on that part
of the island is very rocky, and large caves exist in some places,
penetrating the rocks quite deeply.I knew that these caves were said to
be specially frequented by the swallows, and I found that the report was
true, for I visited five or six of them.The birds were very abundant,
and I had opportunity to see their nests in every stage of their
history.You can see
how they were placed, and this engraving gives you a correct idea of
it.They were actually _stuck_ against the perpendicular or sloping wall
of rock, precisely as a chimney-swallow sticks his nest against the side
of a chimney, his, however, consisting only of a worthless mass of
twigs.The Chinamen gather them from these places in boat-loads, and
bring them to market.Most of those which are brought here come, I
think, from Java and Borneo, though a good supply is obtained also in
Ceylon, the species which is found there being the _Collocalia
nidifica_.The nests, however, of the different species are sold
together, the only distinction being in quality as to cleanness and
color.Daniel went back to the kitchen."Of course the value of the nests, as with all other goods, depends upon
the quality.This dirty fellow here, which has evidently done its work,
and furnished board and lodging to a rising family, is of small value;
and yet even such as these Chinese patience and ingenuity can clean and
clear so perfectly that they are fit for use, though never becoming of
first class.This next one had not been used for rearing a brood, but it
was soiled in some way in the building, and is of about middle grade.But this is what we call a prime article, this light one, and the whiter
it is the better price it commands.The best are worth more than their
weight in silver.""But of what do the birds build them, Jack?"No more strange than honey, Tom, and made in the same way.It used to
be thought that it was something which the birds gathered from the
surface of the sea, but we know now that that is all foolishness.I saw
the swallows catching flies as industriously as I ever watched the
barn-swallows doing it over the Green in New Haven, and I opened the
stomachs of many specimens which I shot, and found them always filled
with insects, and with nothing else, so that we know that their food is
the same as that of other birds of their tribe.Fang-shu, the drum master, withdrew to the north of the
river.Wu, the master of the hand drum, withdrew to the Han.Yang, the assistant music master, and Hsiang, master of the
musical stone, withdrew to an island in the sea.X. The duke of Chau addressed his son, the duke of Lu,
saying, 'The virtuous prince does not neglect his relations.He does
not cause the great ministers to repine at his not employing them.Without some great cause, he does not dismiss from their offices
the members of old families.He does not seek in one man talents
for every employment.'To Chau belonged the eight officers, Po-ta, Po-
kwo, Chung-tu, Chung-hwu, Shu-ya, Shu-hsia, Chi-sui, and Chi-kwa.I. Tsze-chang said, 'The scholar, trained for public duty,
seeing threatening danger, is prepared to sacrifice his life.When
the opportunity of gain is presented to him, he thinks of
righteousness.In sacrificing, his thoughts are reverential.John journeyed to the office.Sandra travelled to the bedroom.In
mourning, his thoughts are about the grief which he should feel.Such a man commands our approbation indeed.'Tsze-chang said, 'When a man holds fast to virtue,
but without seeking to enlarge it, and believes right principles, but
without firm sincerity, what account can be made of his existence
or non-existence?'The disciples of Tsze-hsia asked Tsze-chang about
the principles that should characterize mutual intercourse.Tsze-
chang asked, 'What does Tsze-hsia say on the subject?'They
replied, 'Tsze-hsia says:-- "Associate with those who can advantage
you.Put away from you those who cannot do so."'Tsze-chang
observed, 'This is different from what I have learned.The superior
man honours the talented and virtuous, and bears with all.He
praises the good, and pities the incompetent.Am I possessed of
great talents and virtue?-- who is there among men whom I will
not bear with?Am I devoid of talents and virtue?-- men will put
me away from them.What have we to do with the putting away of
others?'Tsze-hsia said, 'Even in inferior studies and
employments there is something worth being looked at; but if it be
attempted to carry them out to what is remote, there is a danger of
their proving inapplicable.Therefore, the superior man does not
practise them.'V. Tsze-hs |
office | Where is John? | Tsze-hsia said, 'There are learning extensively, and
having a firm and sincere aim; inquiring with earnestness, and
reflecting with self-application:-- virtue is in such a course.'Tsze-hsia said, 'Mechanics have their shops to
dwell in, in order to accomplish their works.The superior man
learns, in order to reach to the utmost of his principles.'Tsze-hsia said, 'The mean man is sure to gloss his
faults.'Tsze-hsia said, 'The superior man undergoes three
changes.Looked at from a distance, he appears stern; when
approached, he is mild; when he is heard to speak, his language is
firm and decided.'X. Tsze-hsia said, 'The superior man, having obtained
their confidence, may then impose labours on his people.If he have
not gained their confidence, they will think that he is oppressing
them.Having obtained the confidence of his prince, one may then
remonstrate with him.If he have not gained his confidence, the
prince will think that he is vilifying him.'Tsze-hsia said, 'When a person does not transgress
the boundary line in the great virtues, he may pass and repass it in
the small virtues.'John journeyed to the bathroom.Tsze-yu said, 'The disciples and followers of
Tsze-hsia, in sprinkling and sweeping the ground, in answering and
replying, in advancing and receding, are sufficiently accomplished.But these are only the branches of learning, and they are left
ignorant of what is essential.-- How can they be acknowledged as
sufficiently taught?'Tsze-hsia heard of the remark and said, 'Alas!According to the way of the superior man in teaching, what
departments are there which he considers of prime importance, and
delivers?what are there which he considers of secondary
importance, and allows himself to be idle about?But as in the case
of plants, which are assorted according to their classes, so he deals
with his disciples.How can the way of a superior man be such as to
make fools of any of them?Is it not the sage alone, who can unite
in one the beginning and the consummation of learning?'Tsze-hsia said, 'The officer, having discharged all
his duties, should devote his leisure to learning.The student, having
completed his learning, should apply himself to be an officer.'Tsze-hsia said, 'Mourning, having been carried to
the utmost degree of grief, should stop with that.'Tsze-hsia said, 'My friend Chang can do things
which are hard to be done, but yet he is not perfectly virtuous.'The philosopher Tsang said, 'How imposing is the
manner of Chang!It is difficult along with him to practise virtue.'The philosopher Tsang said, 'I heard this from
our Master:-- "Men may not have shown what is in them to the full
extent, and yet they will be found to do so, on occasion of mourning
for their parents."'The philosopher Tsang said, 'I have heard this
from our Master:-- "The filial piety of Mang Chwang, in other
matters, was what other men are competent to, but, as seen in his
not changing the ministers of his father, nor his father's mode of
government, it is difficult to be attained to."'The chief of the Mang family having appointed
Yang Fu to be chief criminal judge, the latter consulted the
philosopher Tsang.Tsang said, 'The rulers have failed in their
duties, and the people consequently have been disorganised, for a
long time.When you have found out the truth of any accusation, be
grieved for and pity them, and do not feel joy at your own ability.'Tsze-kung said, 'Chau's wickedness was not so great
as that name implies.Therefore, the superior man hates to dwell
in a low-lying situation, where all the evil of the world will flow in
upon him.'Tsze-kung said, 'The faults of the superior man are
like the eclipses of the sun and moon.He has his faults, and all men
see them; he changes again, and all men look up to him.'Kung-sun Ch'ao of Wei asked Tsze-kung,
saying, 'From whom did Chung-ni get his learning?'Tsze-kung replied, 'The doctrines of Wan and Wu have not
yet fallen to the ground.Men of
talents and virtue remember the greater principles of them, and
others, not possessing such talents and virtue, remember the
smaller.Thus, all possess the doctrines of Wan and Wu.Where
could our Master go that he should not have an opportunity of
learning them?And yet what necessity was there for his having a
regular master?'Shu-sun Wu-shu observed to the great
officers in the court, saying, 'Tsze-kung is superior to Chung-ni.'Tsze-fu Ching-po reported the observation to Tsze-kung,
who said, 'Let me use the comparison of a house and its
encompassing wall.One may
peep over it, and see whatever is valuable in the apartments.'The wall of my Master is several fathoms high.If one do
not find the door and enter by it, he cannot see the ancestral
temple with its beauties, nor all the officers in their rich array.'But I may assume that they are few who find the door.Was not the observation of the chief only what might have been
expected?'Shu-sun Wu-shu having spoken revilingly of
Chung-ni, Tsze-kung said, 'It is of no use doing so.Chung-ni cannot
be reviled.Daniel went back to the kitchen.The talents and virtue of other men are hillocks and
mounds which may be stepped over.Chung-ni is the sun or moon,
which it is not possible to step over.Although a man may wish to
cut himself off from the sage, what harm can he do to the sun or
moon?He only shows that he does not know his own capacity.John journeyed to the office.Ch'an Tsze-ch'in, addressing Tsze-kung, said,
'You are too modest.How can Chung-ni be said to be superior to
you?'Tsze-kung said to him, 'For one word a man is often
deemed to be wise, and for one word he is often deemed to be
foolish.We ought to be careful indeed in what we say.'Our Master cannot be attained to, just in the same way as
the heavens cannot be gone up to by the steps of a stair.'Were our Master in the position of the ruler of a State or
the chief of a Family, we should find verified the description which
has been given of a sage's rule:-- he would plant the people, and
forthwith they would be established; he would lead them on, and
forthwith they would follow him; he would make them happy, and
forthwith multitudes would resort to his dominions; he would
stimulate them, and forthwith they would be harmonious.While he
lived, he would be glorious.When he died, he would be bitterly
lamented.How is it possible for him to be attained to?'you, Shun, the Heaven-determined
order of succession now rests in your person.If there shall be distress and want within the four seas,
the Heavenly revenue will come to a perpetual end.'Shun also used the same language in giving charge to Yu.T'ang said, 'I the child Li, presume to use a dark-coloured
victim, and presume to announce to Thee, O most great and
sovereign God, that the sinner I dare not pardon, and thy ministers,
O God, I do not keep in obscurity.The examination of them is by
thy mind, O God.Sandra travelled to the bedroom.If, in my person, I commit offences, they are not to
be attributed to you, the people of the myriad regions.If you in the
myriad regions commit offences, these offences must rest on my
person.'Chau conferred great gifts, and the good were enriched.'Although he has his near relatives, they are not equal to
my virtuous men.The people are throwing blame upon me, the One
man.'He carefully attended to the weights and measures,
examined the body of the laws, restored the discarded officers, and
the good government of the kingdom took its course.He revived States that had been extinguished, restored
families whose line of succession had been broken, and called to
office those who had retired into obscurity, so that throughout the
kingdom the hearts of the people turned towards him.What he attached chief importance to, were the food of the
people, the duties of mourning, and sacrifices.By his sincerity, he made the
people repose trust in him.By his earnest activity, his
achievements were great.Tsze-chang asked Confucius, saying, 'In what way
should a person in authority act in order that he may conduct
government properly?'The Master replied, 'Let him honour the five
excellent, and banish away the four bad, things;-- then may he
conduct government properly.'Tsze-chang said, 'What are meant by
the five excellent things?'The Master said, 'When the person in
authority is beneficent without great expenditure; when he lays
tasks on the people without their repining; when he pursues what
he desires without being covetous; when he maintains a dignified
ease without being proud; when he is majestic without being fierce.'Tsze-chang said, 'What is meant by being beneficent
without great expenditure?'The Master replied, 'When the person
in authority makes more beneficial to the people the things from
which
they naturally derive benefit;-- is not this being beneficent without
great expenditure?Daniel moved to the bathroom.When he chooses the labours which are proper,
and makes them labour on them, who will repine?When his desires
are set on benevolent government, and he secures it, who will
accuse him of covetousness?Whether he has to do with many
people or few, or with things great or small, he does not dare to
indicate any disrespect;-- is not this to maintain a dignified ease
without any pride?He adjusts his clothes and cap, and throws a
dignity into his looks, so that, thus dignified, he is looked at with
awe;-- is not this to be majestic without being fierce?'Tsze-chang then asked, 'What are meant by the four bad
things?'The Master said, 'To put the people to death without having
instructed them;-- this is called cruelty.To require from them,
suddenly, the full tale of work, without having given them
warning;-- this is called oppression.To issue orders as if without
urgency, at first, and, when the time comes, to insist on them with
severity;-- this is called injury.And, generally, in the giving pay
or rewards to men, to do it in a stingy way;-- this is called acting
the part of a mere official.'The Master said, 'Without recognising the
ordinances of Heaven, it is impossible to be a superior man.'Without an acquaintance with the rules of Propriety, it is
impossible for the character to be established.'Without knowing the force of words, it is impossible to
know men.'Leonard's statement is his own
inference--a misconstruction of the fact.Daniel went to the hallway.I have not had time to refer to
the speech he made.I leave his statement with you, and you have the
privilege of consulting his speech as it is printed this morning, in
reference to this matter.It came to my thought very distinctly that the
idea of the possibility of women coming in was then lodged in the minds
that were both in favor of and opposed to lay delegation.Now, then, this vote that was taken, in accordance with the order of
1868, laid the foundation stone for the introduction of women into this
body.That sent the question of lay delegation down to be voted on by
the laity of the Church.If the women were not to be recognized as laity
here, why allow them to vote on the question of the laity at all?And,
having allowed them to vote on the question of the laity, settling the
very foundation principle itself, with what consistency can we disallow
them a place in this General Conference, when by their votes they opened
the way for the laymen coming into this General Conference?Do you not
remember that we had a vote previously, and the men only voted, and that
the lay delegation scheme was defeated, and the _Methodist_, that was
published in this city, being the organ of the lay delegationists, said
that "votes ought to be weighed, not counted"?And then the question was
sent back to be voted upon by both the men and the women?And let the
laymen of this General Conference remember that they are in this body
to-day by reason of the votes of the women of the Methodist Episcopal
Church.We went into the work of
construing pronouns.There had been women in the Quarterly Conferences
previously to that date; but there was a mist in the air with regard
to their legality there.The General Conference by its action did not
propose to admit women to the Quarterly Conferences.It simply proposed
to clear away the mist and recognize their legal right to sit in the
Quarterly Conference.Being in the Quarterly Conference, and in the
District Conference, they have the right to vote on every question that
comes before such bodies.They vote to license ministers, to recommend
ministers to Annual Conferences, to recommend local preachers for
deacons' and elders' orders.They vote on sending delegates to our Lay
Electoral Conferences, and they vote in elections for delegates to Lay
Electoral Conferences, and they vote in elections for delegates from Lay
Electoral Conferences to this General Conference.And there are men
on this floor to-day that would not be in this at all if they had
not received the support of women in Lay Electoral Conferences.Now,
brethren, let it be remembered that the votes of the women to send
delegates to the Lay Electoral Conferences were never challenged until
they came here asking for seats.They were good enough to elect laymen
to this body, but not good enough to take seats with laymen in this
body.With what consistency can laymen accept seats by the votes of the
women and then deprive women of their seats?I am surprised at some of
the "subtle insinuations" of the Episcopacy concerning constitutional
law.Allow me to say at this point that, having introduced into the
Quarterly Conference these women, and having given them a right to
vote there, and in the District Conferences, and in the Lay Electoral
Conferences, in all honesty we must do one of two things, if we would
be consistent, we must go back and take up that old foundation of lay
delegation that we laid in 1868, or we must go forward and allow these
women to have their seats.In a word, we must either lay again the
"foundation of repentance from dead work, or go forward to perfection."And I am not in favor of going back.If it is true that the body of the Constitution is outside of the
Restrictive Rules, and cannot be changed except in the way prescribed
for altering the Restrictive Rules, then I say that this General
Conference has again and again been both lawless and revolutionary.Every paragraph of the chapter, known as the Constitution, beginning
with Sec.63, and closing with Sec.69, was put into that Constitution without
any voice from an Annual Conference of this foot-stool.Not one single
one of them was ever submitted to an Annual Conference; Sec.20, ¶183, stood
for many years in the Constitution of the Church, but was transferred
bodily from that Constitution by the General Conference to the position
it now occupies.You come and tell us to-day that we cannot change the
Constitution outside of the Restrictive Rules without going down to the
Annual Conferences; it is too late in the day to say that.We have made
too much history on that point.The present plan of lay delegation was
not submitted to the Annual Conferences.Bishop Simpson definitely
stated when he reported to the General Conference the result of the vote
ordered in 1868 that the question simply of the introduction of the
laity into the General Conference was presented to be voted upon by the
laity and by the Annual Conferences, but the "plan" was not submitted
to either to be voted upon, and the "plan" for lay delegation by which
these lay brethren occupy their seats here this morning was made in
every jot and tittle by the General Conference without any reference to
the Annual Conferences at all.I want to know, then, by what propriety we come here in this |
bathroom | Where is Mary? | The General Conference
cannot alter our articles of faith, it cannot abolish our Episcopacy; it
cannot deprive our members of a right to trial and appeal.These come
under the Restrictive Rules, and cannot be touched by this body without
the consent of the Annual Conferences; but all else has been from
beginning, and is now in the hands of the General Conference.Let it be
remembered that this General Conference is a unique body.It is at once
a legislative and a judicial body; in the former capacity it makes law;
in the latter capacity it has the power to construe law.It is at once a Congress, if you please, to enact law, and a supreme
court to interpret law.Now, then, in admitting women to our General
Conference, we are simply construing the Constitution, and not changing
the Constitution.The Supreme Court of the United States gives decisions
on the construing of the Constitution, and who ever heard of a decision
of the Supreme Court being sent down to be ratified by the State
Legislatures?The Supreme Court of the United States construes the
Constitution, without any reference to the State Legislatures, and so
we construe law without any reference to the Annual Conferences.If we
touch the law inside of the Restrictive Rules, we must go down to the
Annual Conferences.Outside we are free to legislate as we may.John journeyed to the bathroom.The Constitution is designed simply to
limit the powers of the Legislature.In my own State of Ohio, for
illustration, we have an article in our Constitution that forbids our
Legislature to license the liquor traffic, but our legislators give a
license under the guise of taxing, but they cannot give us a license
law in form.There are States that have
Constitutions that have no word to say about the liquor traffic at all,
while they may either tax, license, or prohibit.This is a fact that is well settled, that the Constitution is a
limitation of legislative power, and where there is no such limitation
there is no restriction.President, it will be well for us, so far as we have progressed in
this discussion, to see how near and how far we agree.It is admitted by
the friends of the report, or by the committee, that this is a question
of law, and to be decided exclusively upon principles of law.So far as
those who are opposed to the report have spoken, they conceive, as I
understand it, that the position taken by the committee is taken by
those who are advocating its adoption.Then we are agreed that it is not
a matter of sentiment, it is not a matter of chivalry.There is no place
for knighthood, or any of its laws, or any other of the principles that
dominated the contests of the knights of old.If it were a matter of
knighthood there is not a man on this floor that would deem it necessary
to bring a lance into this body.There are none that would hail with more joy and gladness the women of
the Church to a seat in this body than those of us who now, under the
circumstances, oppose their coming in.It is not either a matter of progressive legislation regarding the
franchise of colored men, or of anybody else in the country.It is a
question of law, Methodist law, and Methodist law alone.Now, so far as the intention is concerned of those who made the law, I
do not see how those who have kept themselves conversant with the
history of lay delegation can for a moment claim that it was even the
most remote intention of those who introduced lay delegation into the
General Conference to bring in the women, and for us to transfer the
field now toward women, in view of their magnificent work in the last
ten or fifteen years, back to twenty years, is to commit an anachronism
that would be fatal to all just interpretation of law.I myself was in the very first meeting that was ever called to initiate
the movement that at last brought in lay delegation.I voted for it; I
wrote for it; I spoke for it in the General Conference and in the Annual
Conferences.I was a member of the first lay committee, or Committee on
Lay Delegation, that was appointed here by the General Conference in
1868.And during all these various processes of discussion, so far as I
know, the thought was never suggested that under it women would come in
to represent the laity, nor was it ever suggested that it was desirable
that they should; so that the intention of the law-maker could never
have embraced this design--the design of bringing women into the General
Conference.Now, I claim that the General Conference has no legal authority to admit
them here.I know that the Supreme Court
of the United States, in that contest between the Northern Church, or
the Methodist Episcopal Church, and the Church South, decided that the
General Conference was the Methodist Episcopal Church.I used that
argument myself upon the Conference floor in 1868, that the General
Conference could, without any other process, by mere legislation,
introduce the laity into this body.I claimed there and then that,
according to that decision, the Methodist Episcopal Church was in the
General Conference.The General Conference refused to accept that
endorsement of that Court, or that proposition concerning the
prerogatives of this body.And through all the processes that have
been ordered concerning the introduction of lay delegation that
interpretation of the constitution of the Church has been repudiated.The Church herself rejected the interpretation that the Supreme Court
placed upon her constitution, and as a loyal son of the Church I
accepted her interpretation of her own constitution, so that now I claim
that the General Conference has no authority whatever to change the
_personnel_ of the General Conference without the vote of the Annual
Conferences.Before it can be done constitutionally, you must obtain the
consent of the brethren of the Annual Conferences, and I am in favor of
that, and of receiving an affirmative vote on their part.But until this
is done I do not see how they can come in only as we trample the organic
law of our Church under our feet.And to do this, there is nothing but
peril ahead of us.A simple body may disregard law with comparative impunity, but an
organic body that is complicated, complex in its nature, will find its
own security in adhering earnestly, strictly, and everlastingly, to the
law that that body passes for the government of its own conduct.Let us see, now, with regard to this Restrictive Rule.As I have said,
it has been admitted all along that the action of the Annual Conferences
must be secured.Here comes in the decision of the General Conference of
1872.One
is, that this General Conference is a legislative body, and that it
is also a judicial body.As a judicial body, it interprets law; as
a legislative body, it makes law.Daniel went back to the kitchen.The General Conference of 1872
interpreted law, and the General Conference may reverse itself with
just as much propriety as a court can reverse itself.And if it be
the judgment of this General Conference that that interpretation was
incorrect, it is perfectly competent for this Conference to say so, and
have its action correspond with its own decision.The case that was before the General Conference
of 1876 was a specific case.It was the case of the relation that
local preachers sustain to the Church, a particular case.This is the
principle of all decisions in law, that when a particular case is
decided in general terms, the scope and comprehension of the decision
must be limited to the particular case itself.And if a court in its
decision embraces more than was involved in the particular case, it has
no force whatever.And as this was a particular case submitted to
the General Conference, and the decision was in general terms, it
comprehends simply the case that was before it, and cannot be advanced
to comprehend more.And the reason of this is very obvious; for if it
was not the case, then cases might be brought before the court for its
decision that had never occurred.The General Conference of 1880
did not see the effect that legislation would have by admitting women
to certain offices.John journeyed to the office.Certain affirmative legislation is also negative
legislation.When saloons are permitted to sell in quantities of one
gallon, it forbids to sell in quantities of less than one gallon; when
it says you can sell in quantities of one barrel, it forbids them to
sell in quantities of two.When the General Conference of 1880
decided that women should be eligible in the Quarterly Conferences as
superintendents of Sunday-schools, class-leaders, and as stewards, by
that very affirmative conclusion, the subject was passed upon about
their taking any other position.That, I think, must be regarded as
sound, and a just interpretation of the law.Sandra travelled to the bedroom.But suppose it is not; the General Conference of 1880 certainly did not
understand the matter as the General Conference of 1872 did.For if it
had, there would have been no necessity for legislation at all, there
would have been no need for putting in the law as it now stands,
that the pronoun "he," wherever employed, shall not be considered
as prohibiting women from holding the offices of Sunday-school
Superintendent, Class Leader, and Steward.Now, for this reason, and for the further reason that it is a matter of
immense importance that we guard against despotism, I oppose changing
the _personnel_ of the General Conference without my Annual Conference
has a right to vote upon it, and it is voted upon.Despotism is a
suitable term.A General Conference may become a despot, and just as
soon as it goes outside of its legitimate province, then it usurps, and
so far as it usurps, it becomes despotic, and is a despot; and you and
I, so far as our Annual Conferences are concerned, do well to regard
with a deep jealousy an infringement upon our organic rights.The
only safety of the Church is the equipoise that is constituted by the
relation the Annual Conferences sustain to the General Conference,
and far safer is it for us to bring these women of the Church, elect,
honorable women, into the General Conference of the Church by the same
way that their husbands and brothers are here.There is another thought that I wish to suggest.What are the
possibilities with regard to lay delegation, supposing the design of
those who wish to bring women in without further action is successful?Daniel moved to the bathroom.You make lay delegation a farce in this body.The presiding elders and
pastors of the Church may act in co-operation, and they can elect
their own wives as delegates to this General Conference, and thus
lay delegation comes to be a farce.Some of you may laugh at this
suggestion, but it is an _in posse_, and it may easily be made an _in
esse_.It is important to us that the laity should hold the place they
have by the regulations we have, and they should be changed only to make
them more perfect.We may set lightly by law; we
may regard it as a thing to be laid aside at the command of excitement
or passion, but the nation that does that is a doomed nation, and the
Church that does that has its history already written.The only safe
course for us to pursue is to pursue the wise, careful, judicious,
and conservative--I mean every word--and conservative course we have
heretofore pursued through all our history.When we boast of what
Methodism has done, or what she is going to do, let us remember it is
because of her firm adherence to law.It is with her as it is with the German nation and the Anglo-Saxon
race--everywhere our glory is in our adherence to wise laws, and if we
pass unwise laws, in repealing them in the same wise.Daniel went to the hallway.ADDRESS OF GENERAL CLINTON B. FISK.President and Brethren, to an onlooker of this remarkable scene,
this great debate now in the third day of its progress must be
suggestive of some of the marvellous plays, woven into song, which have
made the hearts of the thronging multitudes who have crowded this place
of meeting in the past throb alternately with emotions of hope and fear
as to the outcome of the parties involved in plot and counterplot.The
visitors to this General Conference, seated in their boxes and in the
family circle, Will say surely these honored men of God who have been
called as Superintendents of the affairs of our great conquering Church,
these chosen ministers of reconciliation and peace, these _male_
laymen called by their brethren to their high places in this General
Conference, whose names at home are the synonym of chivalrous
goodness--surely all these of rank and talent and authority, whose able
and eloquent words have been ringing through the arches and dome of this
temple of music on the wrong side of the question, are but simply acting
the parts assigned them.In the final scene they will join hands around
the eligible women elect, who, in obedience to the call of the laity in
their several Conferences, are in their seats with us, and say, "Whom
God hath joined, let not _male_ put asunder."My brothers, let us
briefly restate the case.Five noble women of the laymen of the
Methodist Episcopal Church have been chosen as delegates to this General
Conference under the Constitution and by the forms prescribed by the
laws of the Church.Mary went back to the office.As they enter, or attempt to enter, the portals of
this great assemblage they hear a voice from the platform, in words not
to be misunderstood, "Thou shalt not," and voices from all parts of the
house take up the prohibitory words, and supplement the voices of the
Bishops, "Thou shalt not."And one would think, from the vehement
oratory of the resisting delegates of this General Conference, that the
foundations of the Church were in imminent peril by the presence of
these "elect ladies" among us.Let us turn back a moment, and review the history of the rise, progress,
and triumph of the cause of lay representation.I claim to know a little
something about it, as I was on the skirmish line in the conflict, and
in all its battles fought until the day of victory.In 1861, to the male members of the Church, was submitted the question
of lay representation.Had it
carried, there would have been plausibility in the argument this
day made against the eligibility of women to seats in this General
Conference.The evolution of the succeeding eight years lifted woman to
a higher appreciation of her position in the Methodist Church, and her
rights and privileges became the theme of discussion throughout the
bounds of the Church.Among the champions for woman was that magnificent
man, that grand old man, Dr.Daniel D. Whedon, who, in discussing this
question, said:
"If it is _rights_ they talk of, every competent member of the Church of
Christ, of either sex and of every shade of complexion, has equal
original rights.Those rights, they may be assured, when that question
comes fairly up, will be firmly asserted and maintained."And in answer to the expected fling, "But you are a woman's rights man,"
he replied:
"We are a human rights man.And our
wives, sisters, and daughters are all human beings.And that these human
beings are liable as any other human beings to be oppressed by the
stronger sex, and as truly need in self-defence a check upon oppression,
the history of all past governments and legislation does most terribly
demonstrate.What is best in the State is not indeed with us the
question; but never, with our consent, shall the Church of the living
God disfranchise her who gave to the world its divine Redeemer.When
that disfranchisement comes to the debate, may the God of eternal
righteousness give us strength equal to our will to cleave it to the
ground!"The General Conference of 1868, after full discussion, submitted the
question of Lay Representation to a vote of all the members of the
Church, male and female, thus recognizing the women as laymen, as
belonging to the great body of the laity, and as vitally interested in
the government of the Church, and having rights under that government.Mary went to the bathroom.During the debate on the report of the Committee on the plan for
submitting the question as in 1861, to the male members, Dr.Sherman
moved to strike out the word "male."While that motion was under
consideration, Dr.Slicer, of Baltimore, said, "If it were the last
moment I should spend, and the last articulate sound I should utter,
I should speak for the wives, mothers, and daughters of the Methodist
Episcopal Church.... I am for women's rights, sir, _wherever church
privileges are concerned_."Sherman's motion was carried by a vote of 142 to 70, and the
question of lay |
bedroom | Where is Mary? | John journeyed to the bathroom.The General Conference did not ask
women to vote on a proposition that only male members of the Church
should be represented in the General Conference, and it did not then
enter the thought of any clear-headed man that women were to be deprived
of their rights to a seat in the General Conference.There were a few
noisy, disorderly brethren who cried out from their seats, "No, no," but
they were silenced by the presiding Bishop and the indignation of the
right thinking, orderly delegates.David Sherman, the mover of the motion to strike
out the word "male," now say of the prevailing sentiment on that day of
great debate?I have his freshly written words in response to an inquiry
made a few weeks ago.On March 21st he made this statement:
"Some of us believed that women were laymen, that the term'men' in the
Discipline, as elsewhere, often designated not sex, but genus; and that
those who constituted a main part of many of our churches should have a
voice in determining under what government they would live.We believed
in the rightful equality of the sexes before the law, and hence that
women should have the same right as men to vote and hold office.The
Conference of 1868 was a reform body, and it seemed possible to take
these views on a stage; hence the amendment was offered, and carried
with a rush and heartiness even beyond my expectations....The latter
interpretation of the Conference making all not members of Conferences
laymen, fully carried out these views, as they were understood at the
moment by the majority party.Some, to be sure, cried out against it,
but their voices were not heard amid the roar of victory.Who can go
back of the interpretation of the supreme court of the Church?"It is amazing that brethren will stand here to-day and utterly ignore
the decision of our Supreme Court in defining who are laymen.Could
the utterances of any Court be more definite and clear than those of the
General Conference when it said, "The General Conference holds that
in all matters connected with the election of lay delegates the word
'laymen' must be understood to include all the members of the Church who
are not members of the Annual Conferences"?Daniel went back to the kitchen.This decision must include
women among the laity of the Church.I know it is said that this means
the classification of local preachers.We respond that that only appears
from the debate.The General Conference was settling a great principle
in which the personal rights and privileges of two thirds of the
membership of our Church were involved.Surely, our Supreme Court would
have made a strange decision had they, in defining laymen, excepted
women.Let us see how it would look in cold type had they said, "The
General Conference holds that in all matters connected with the election
of lay delegates the word laymen must be understood to include all the
members of the Annual Conferences, _and who are not women_."We would
have become the laughing-stock of Christendom had we made such an
utterance.The Church universal in all ages has always divided its
membership into two great classes, and two only, the clergy and
the laymen, using the terms laity and laymen synonymously and
interchangeably.See Bingham's "Antiquities," Blackstone's
"Commentaries," Schaffs "History," and kindred authorities.It is sheer
trifling for sensible males to talk about a distinction between lay_men_
and lay_women_.Women were made class-leaders, stewards, and Sunday-school
superintendents, and employed in these several capacities long before
the specific interpretations of the pronouns were made.They were so
appointed and employed in Saint Paul's Church in this city during the
pastorate of that sainted man, John M'Clintock, in 1860, and could the
voice of that great leader and lover of the Church reach us to day from
the skies it would be in protest against the views presented in this
debate by the supporters of the committee's report and its amendment.John journeyed to the office.It is a well-established and incontrovertible principle of law that any
elector is eligible to the office for which said elector votes, unless
there be a _specific enactment discriminating against the elector_.Our
law says that a lay delegate shall be twenty-five years of age, and five
years a member of the Methodist Episcopal Church.It does not say that a
delegate must not be a woman, or must be a man.Women are eligible to membership in this General Conference.Women have
been chosen delegates as provided by law.They are here in their seats
ready for any duty on committees, or otherwise, as they may be invited.We cannot turn them out and slam the door on their exit.It would be
revolutionary so to do by a simple vote of this body.It would be a
violation of the guarantees of personal liberty, a holding of the
just rights of the laity of the Church.We cannot exclude them from
membership in the General Conference, except by directing the Annual
Conferences to vote on the question of their exclusion.Are we ready to
send that question in that form down to the Annual Conferences for their
action?I trust that a large majority of this General Conference will
say with emphasis we are not ready for any such action.The women of our
Methodism have a place in the heart of the Church from which they cannot
be dislodged.They are at the very
front of every great movement of the Church at home or abroad.In the
spirit of rejoicing consecration our matrons and maids uphold the
banner of our Lord in every conflict with the enemy of virtue and
righteousness.Looking down upon us from these galleries, tier upon
tier, are the magnificent leaders of the Woman's Foreign and the Woman's
Home Missionary Societies.Our women are at the front of the battle now
waging against the liquor traffic in our fair land, and they will not
cease their warfare until this nation shall be redeemed from the curse
of the saloon.God bless all these women of our great conquering Church
of the Redeemer.Twenty years ago Bishop Hurst accompanied me on a leisurely tour of
continental Europe.In the old city of Nuremberg we wandered among
the old churches and market-places, where may be seen the marvellous
productions of that evangel of art, Albert Durer.In an old schloss in
that city may be found the diary of Albert Durer, almost four centuries
old.In it you may read as follows: "Master Gebhart, of Antwerp, has
a daughter seventeen years old, and she has illuminated the head of a
Saviour for which I gave a florin.It is a marvel that a woman could
do so much."Three and a half centuries later Rosa Bonheur hangs her
master-piece in the chief places of the galleries of the world, and
Harriet Hosmer's studio contributes many of the best marbles that adorn
the parlors of Europe and America, and no one wonders that a woman can
do so much.From that day when Martin Luther, the protesting monk, and
Catherine Von Bora, the ex-nun, stood together at the altar and the
twain became one, woman has by her own heroism, by her faith in her sex
and in God, who made her, fought a good fight against the organized
selfishness of those who would withhold from her any right or privilege
to which she is entitled, and has lifted herself from slavery and
barbarism to a place by the side of man, where God placed her in
paradise, his equal in tact and talent, moving upon the world with her
unseen influences, and making our Christian civilization what it is
to-day.Let not our Methodism in this her chiefest council say or do
ought that shall lead the world to conclude that we are retreating from
our advanced position of justice to the laity of the Church.Let us
rather strengthen our guarantee of loving protection of every right and
privilege of every member of our Church, without distinction of race,
color, or sex.ADDRESS OF JUDGE Z. P. TAYLOR.President and Gentlemen, when elected a delegate I had no opinion on
the constitutional question here involved.But I had then, and I have
now, a sympathy for the women, and a profound admiration of their work.No man on this floor stands more ready and more willing to assist them
by all lawful and constitutional means to every right and and to every
privilege enjoyed by men.But, sir, notwithstanding this admiration and sympathy, I cannot lose
sight of the vital question before the General Conference now and here.That question is this: Under the Constitution and Restrictive Rules of
the Methodist Episcopal Church are women eligible as lay delegates in
this General Conference?Sandra travelled to the bedroom.If they are, then this substitute offered by
Dr.Moore does them an injustice, because it puts a cloud upon their
right and title to seats upon this floor.If they are not, then this
body would be in part an unconstitutional body if they are admitted.It follows that whoever supports this substitute either wrongs the elect
ladies or violates the Constitution.If they are constitutionally a part
of this body, seat them; if they are not, vote down this substitute, and
adopt the report of the committee, with the amendment of Dr.Neely, and
then let them in four years hence in the constitutional way.After
the most careful study of the vital question in the light of history,
ecclesiastical, common, and constitutional law, it is my solemn and
deliberate judgment that women are not eligible as lay delegates in this
body.Facts, records, and testimonials conclusively prove that in 1868, when
the General Conference submitted the matter of lay delegation to the
entire membership of the Church, the idea of women being eligible was
not the intent.The intent was to bring into the General Conference a
large number of men of business experience, who could render service
by their knowledge and experience touching the temporal affairs of the
Church.When the principle of admitting lay delegates was voted upon
by the laity, this idea, and no other, was intended.When the Annual
Conferences voted for the principle and the plan, this and this only was
their intent.When the General Conference, by the constitutional majority, acted in
favor of admitting the lay delegates provisionally elected, this idea,
and none other, actuated them.It was not the intent then to admit
women, but to admit men only, and the intent must govern in construing a
Constitution.Fisk said Judge Cooley is a high authority on constitutional law.I
admit it, and am happy to say that I was a student of his over a quarter
of a century ago, and ever since then have studied and practised
constitutional law, and I am not here to stultify my judgment by
allowing sentiment and impulse to influence my decision.Those opposing the report of the committee, with few exceptions, admit
that it was not the intent and purpose, when the Constitution and
Restrictive Rules were amended, to admit women as lay delegates.They
claim, however, that times have changed, and now propose to force a
construction upon the language not intended by the laity, the Annual
Conferences, or the General Conference at the time of the amendment.Can
this be done without an utter violation of law?In the able address read by Bishop Merrill, containing the views of the
Board of Bishops, he says:
"For the first time in our history several 'elect ladies' appear,
regularly certified from Electoral Conferences, as lay delegates to this
body.In taking the action which necessitates the consideration of the
question of their eligibility, the Electoral Conferences did not consult
the Bishops as to the law in the case, nor do we understand it to be our
duty to define the law for these Conferences; neither does it appear
that any one is authorized to decide questions of law in them.The
Electoral Conferences simply assumed the lawfulness of this action,
being guided, as we are informed, by a declarative resolution of the
General Conference of 1872, defining the scope of the word 'laymen," in
answer to a question touching the classification and rights of ordained
local and located ministers.Of course, the language of that resolution
is carried beyond its original design when applied to a subject not
before the body when it was adopted, and not necessarily involved in the
language itself.This also should be understood, that no definition of
the word 'laymen' settles the question of eligibility as to any class
of persons, for many are classed as laymen for the purposes of lay
representation, and have to do with it officially as laymen, who are
themselves not eligible as delegates.Daniel moved to the bathroom.Even laymen who are confessedly
ineligible, who are not old enough to be delegates, or have not been
members long enough, may be stewards, class-leaders, trustees, local
preachers and exhorters, and, as such, be members of the Quarterly
Conference, and vote for delegates to the Electoral Conference without
themselves being eligible."The constitutional qualifications for eligibility cannot be modified by
a resolution of the General Conference, however sweeping, nor can the
original meaning of the language be enlarged.If women were included in
the original constitutional provision for lay delegates, they are here
by constitutional right.If they were not so included, it is beyond the
power of this body to give them membership lawfully, except by the
formal amendment of the Constitution, which cannot be effected without
the consent of the Annual Conferences.In extending to women the highest
spiritual privileges, in recognizing their gifts, and in providing for
them spheres of Christian activity, as well as in advancing them to
positions of official responsibility, ours has been a leader of the
Churches, and gratefully do we acknowledge the good results shown in
their enlarged usefulness, and in the wonderful developments of their
power to work for God, which we take as evidences of the divine approval
of the high ground taken.In all reformatory and benevolent enterprises,
especially in the Temperance, Missionary, and Sunday-school departments
of Church-work, their success is marvellous, and challenges our highest
admiration.Happily no question of competency or worthiness is involved
in the question of their eligibility as delegates.Hitherto the
assumption underlying the legislation of the Church has been that they
were ineligible to official positions, except by special provision of
law.Daniel went to the hallway.What though he summon me
Back to his palace,
I cannot fall
To the level of princes.Now rolls the thunder deep,
Down the cloud valley,
And the gibbons around me
Howl in the long night.The gale through the moaning trees
Fitfully rushes.Mary went back to the office.Lonely and sleepless
I think of my thankless
Master, and vainly would
Cradle my sorrow.Wang Seng-ju
Sixth Century, A.D.Tears
High o'er the hill the moon barque steers.Dead springs are stirring in my heart;
And there are tears.But that which makes my grief more deep
Is that you know not when I weep.Ch`en Tzu Ang
A.D.656-698
Famous for writing that kind of impromptu descriptive verse
which the Chinese call "Ying".Mary went to the bathroom.Mary journeyed to the kitchen.In temperament he was less Chinese
than most of his contemporaries.His passionate disposition
finally brought him into trouble with the magistrate of his district,
who had him cast into prison, where he died at the age of forty-two.Whatever his outward demeanour may have been, his poetry gives us
no indication of it, being full of delicate mysticism,
almost impossible to reproduce in the English language.For this reason I have chosen one of his simpler poems as a specimen.The Last Revel
From silver lamps a thin blue smoke is streaming,
And golden vases'mid the feast are gleaming;
Now sound the lutes in unison,
Within the gates our lives are one.Mary moved to the bedroom.We'll think not of the parting ways
As long as dawn delays.When in tall trees the dying moonbeams quiver:
When floods of fire efface the Silver River,
Then comes the hour when I must seek
Lo-Yang beyond the furthest peak.But the warm twilight round us twain
Will never rise again.Sung Chih-Wen
Died A.D.710
The son of a distinguished general, he began his career as attache
to the military advisers of the Emperor.These advisers were always drawn
from the literary class, and their duties appear to have been chiefly
administrative and diplomatic.Of his life, the less said the better.He became involved in a palace intrigue, and only saved himself
by betraying his accomplices.In the end he was banished,
and finally put to death by the Emperor's order.It |
hallway | Where is Mary? | The Court of Dreams
Rain from the mountains of Ki-Sho
Fled swiftly with a tearing breeze;
The sun came radiant down the west,
And greener blushed the valley trees.I entered through the convent gate:
The abbot bade me welcome there,
And in the court of silent dreams
I lost the thread of worldly care.That holy man and I were one,
Beyond the bounds that words can trace:
The very flowers were still as we.I heard the lark that hung in space,
And Truth Eternal flashed on me.Kao-Shih
Circa A.D.700
One of the most fascinating of all the T`ang poets.His life was
one long series of romantic adventure.At first, a poor youth
battling with adversity; then the lover of an actress,
whom he followed through the provinces, play-writing for the strolling troupe
to which she was attached; the next, secretary to a high personage
engaged in a mission to Thibet; then soldier, and finally poet of renown,
acquiring with his latter years the fortune and honours denied him
in his youth.The chief characteristics of his poetry are intense concentration,
a vivid power of impressionism, and a strong leaning
in the direction of the occult.Indeed, one of his best-known poems,
"The Return to the Mountains", makes mention of the projection
of the astral body through space during sleep.Many of his poems leave us
with a strange sense of horror which is suggested rather than revealed.It is always some combination of effects which produces this result,
and never a concrete form.Impressions of a Traveller
In a silent, desolate spot,
In the night stone-frozen and clear,
The wanderer's hand on the sail
Is gripped by the fingers of fear.He looketh afar o'er the waves,
Wind-ruffled and deep and green;
And the mantle of Autumn lies
Over wood and hill and ravine.-- time of decay,
And the dead leaves' 'wildering flight;
And the mantle of Autumn lies
On the wanderer's soul to-night!Desolation
I
There was a King of Liang* -- a king of wondrous might --
Who kept an open palace, where music charmed the night --
II
Since he was Lord of Liang a thousand years have flown,
And of the towers he builded yon ruin stands alone.III
There reigns a heavy silence; gaunt weeds through windows pry,
And down the streets of Liang old echoes, wailing, die.--
* Strictly speaking, the pronunciation of all words such as Liang,
Kiang, etc., is nearer one syllable than two.For purposes of euphony,
however, without which the lines would be harsh and unpoetical,
I have invariably made two syllables of them.--
Meng Hao-jan
A.D.689-740
One of the few literary men of the day whose later life
was devoted entirely to literature.He was the inseparable friend
of the famous Buddhist poet and doctor, Wang Wei.He spent the first
forty years of his life in acquiring knowledge, but having failed to obtain
his doctor's degree, he returned to the quiet hills of his native province
and dedicated his remaining years to composition.Most of his poems,
other than certain political satire, which drew on him the Emperor's wrath,
are full of subtle sadness and fragrant regret, reminding one of pot-pourri
in some deep blue porcelain bowl.The Lost One
The red gleam o'er the mountains
Goes wavering from sight,
And the quiet moon enhances
The loveliness of night.I open wide my casement
To breathe the rain-cooled air.And mingle with the moonlight
The dark waves of my hair.The night wind tells me secrets
Of lotus lilies blue;
And hour by hour the willows
Shake down the chiming dew.I fain would take the zither,
By some stray fancy led;
But there are none to hear me,
And who can charm the dead?So all my day-dreams follow
The bird that leaves the nest;
And in the night I gather
The lost one to my breast.A Friend Expected
Over the chain of giant peaks
The great red sun goes down,
And in the stealthy floods of night
The distant valleys drown.Yon moon that cleaves the gloomy pines
Has freshness in her train;
Low wind, faint stream, and waterfall
Haunt me with their refrain.The tired woodman seeks his cot
That twinkles up the hill;
And sleep has touched the wanderers
That sang the twilight still.beauty of to-night
I need my friend to praise,
So take the lute to lure him on
Through the fragrant, dew-lit ways.Ch`ang Ch`ien
Circa A.D.720
One of the great philosopher-poets of the Taoist school.His life was spent
far from the court and away from the sounds of civil warfare,
in the endeavour to set himself in harmony with the universe -- to become,
in fact, like an Aeolian harp through which all the cords of nature
might sweep at will.How far he attained the end desired may be seen
in his work, which is penetrated by a sense of profound beauty,
recalling the quiet twilight upon the mountain-side,
which he so well describes.A Night on the Mountain
I sat upon the mountain-side and watched
A tiny barque that skimmed across the lake,
Drifting, like human destiny upon
A world of hidden peril; then she sailed
From out my ken, and mingled with the blue
Of skies unfathomed, while the great round sun
Weakened towards the waves.The whole expanse
Suddenly in the half-light of the dusk
Glimmered and waned.The last rays of the sun
Lit but the tops of trees and mountain-peaks
With tarnished glory; and the water's sheen,
Once blue and bright, grew lustreless, and soon
A welter of red clouds alone betrayed
The passing of the sun.The scattered isles
Uprose, black-looming o'er the tranquil deeps,
Where the reflected heavens wanly showed
A lingering gleam.Already wood and hill
Sank in obscurity.The river marge
Seemed but a broken line to failing sight.Night is at hand; the night winds fret afar,
The North winds moan.The waterfowl are gone
To cover o'er the sand-dunes; dawn alone
Shall call them from the sedges.Some bright star
Mirrors her charms upon the silver shoal;
And I have ta'en the lute, my only friend:
The vibrant chords beneath my fingers blend;
They sob awhile, then as they slip control
Immortal memories awake, and the dead years
Through deathless voices answer to my strings,
Till from the brink of Time's untarnished springs
The melting night recalls me with her tears.Ts`en-Ts`an
Circa A.D.750
Of his life we know little, save that he was the intimate friend
of the great poet Tu Fu, and came of a noble family.He was,
moreover, Censor under the Emperor Su Tsung (A.D.Mary journeyed to the bathroom.756-762),
and rose to be Governor of Chia-chou.What remains of his verse
mostly takes the form of quatrains, yet for originality of thought,
wealth of imagery and style, they have seldom been excelled.He was a master of metre, and contributed certain modifications
to the laws of Chinese prosody which exist to the present day.A Dream of Spring
Last night within my chamber's gloom some vague light breath of Spring
Came wandering and whispering, and bade my soul take wing.A hundred moonlit miles away the Chiang crept to sea;
O keeper of my heart, I came by Chiang's ford to thee.It lingered but a moment's space, that dream of Spring, and died;
Yet as my head the pillows pressed, my soul had found thy side.Chiang Nan's a hundred miles, yet in a moment's space
I've flown away to Chiang Nan and touched a dreaming face.712-770
Tu Fu, whom his countrymen called the God of Verse, was born in the province
of Hu-Kuang, and this was his portrait from contemporaries:
He was tall and slightly built, yet robust with finely chiselled features;
his manners were exquisite, and his appearance distinguished.He came of a literary family, and, as he says of himself,
from his seventh to his fortieth year study and letter occupied
all his available time.At the age of twenty-seven he came to the capital
with his fame in front of him, and there Li Po the poet and Ts`en-Ts`an
became his friends, and Ming Huang his patron.He obtained a post at Court
somewhat similar to that of Master of Ceremonies in our own Court.Yet the poet had few sympathies outside the artistic life.He was so unworldly and so little of a courtier that when the new Emperor
Su Tsung returned in triumph to the capital and appointed him Imperial Censor,
he fulfilled his new duties by telling his majesty the whole unpalatable truth
in a manner strangely free from ornamental apology, and was promptly rewarded
with the exile of a provincial governorship.But Tu Fu was no man of affairs,
and knew it.On the day of his public installation he took off
his insignia of office before the astonished notables, and, laying them
one by one on the table, made them a profound reverence, and quietly withdrew.Like his friend Li Po, he became a homeless wanderer, but, unlike him,
he concealed his brilliant name, obtaining food and patronage
for his delightful nameless self alone, and not for his reputation's sake.Finally, he was discovered by the military governor
of the province of Ssuch`uan, who applied on his behalf
for the post of Restorer of Ancient Monuments in the district,
the one congenial appointment of his life.For six years he kept his post;
then trouble in the shape of rebel hordes burst once more upon the province,
and again he became an exile.The last act of this eventful life
took place in his native district: some local mandarin gave a great banquet
in honour of the distinguished poet, whom he had rescued,
half drowned and famishing, from the ruined shrine by the shore
where the waters had cast him up.The wine-cup brimmed again and again,
food was piled up in front of the honoured guest, and the attendant who waited
was Death.The end was swift, sudden, and pitiful.The guest died
from the banquet of his rescuer.Of all poets Tu Fu is the first in craftsmanship.It is interesting to add
that he was a painter as well, and the friend of painters,
notably the soldier-artist, Kiang-Tu, to whom he dedicates a poem.Possibly it is to this faculty that he owes his superb technique.He seeks after simplicity and its effects as a diver seeks
for sunken gold.In his poem called "The Little Rain",
which I have (perhaps somewhat rashly) attempted, there is
all the graciousness of fine rain falling upon sullen furrows,
which charms the world into spring."The Recruiting Sergeant"
has the touch of grim desolation, which belongs inevitably to a country
plundered of its men and swept with the ruinous winds of rebellion.Li Po gives us Watteau-like pictures of life in Ch`ang-an before the flight
of the Emperor.The younger poet paints, with the brush of Verestchagin,
the realism and horrors of civil war.In most of Tu Fu's work
there is an underlying sadness which appears continually,
sometimes in the vein that runs throughout the poem,
sometimes at the conclusion, and often at the summing up of all things.Other poets have it, some more, some less, with the exception of those
who belong to the purely Taoist school.The reason is that the Chinese poet
is haunted.He is haunted by the vast shadow of a past without historians --
a past that is legendary, unmapped and unbounded, and yields, therefore,
Golcondas and golden lands innumerable to its bold adventurers.He is haunted from out the crumbled palaces of vanished kings,
where "in the form of blue flames one sees spirits moving through
each dark recess."He is haunted by the traditional voices
of the old masters of his craft, and lastly, more than all,
by the dead women and men of his race, the ancestors that count
in the making of his composite soul and have their silent say
in every action, thought, and impulse of his life.and well she knows our need
Who cometh in the time of spring to aid the sun-drawn seed;
She wanders with a friendly wind through silent nights unseen,
The furrows feel her happy tears, and lo!Mary moved to the hallway.Last night cloud-shadows gloomed the path that winds to my abode,
And the torches of the river-boats like angry meteors glowed.To-day fresh colours break the soil, and butterflies take wing
Down broidered lawns all bright with pearls in the garden of the King.A Night of Song
The wind scarce flutters through the leaves,
The young moon hath already gone,
And kind and cool the dews descend:
The lute-strings wake for night alone.In shadow lapse the twinkling streams,
The lilied marge their waves caress;
And the sheer constellations sway
O'er soundless gulfs of nothingness.What fire-fly fancies round him swarm!He dreads the lantern lights may fail
Long ere his thoughts have taken form.Now gallants tap their two-edged swords,
And pride and passion swell amain;
Like red stars flashing through the night
The circling wine-cups brim again.There steals the old sad air of Ou --
Each calls his latest song to mind;
Then white sails taper down the stream,
While lingering thoughts still look behind.The Recruiting Sergeant
At sunset in the village of Che-Kao*
I sought for shelter; on my heels there trod
A grim recruiting sergeant, of the kind
That seize their prey by night.A poor old man
Saw -- scaled the wall, and vanished.Through the gate
An old bent woman hobbled, and she marched
A pace before him.Loudly in his wrath
The grim recruiter stormed; and bitterly
She answered: "Listen to the voice of her
Who drags before you.Once I had three sons --
Three in the Emperor's camp.A letter came
From one, and -- there was one; the others fell
In the same battle -- he alone was left,
Scarce able from the iron grasp of Death
To tear his miserable life.for ever and for aye
Death holds them.In our wretched hut remains
The last of all the men -- a little child,
Still at his mother's breast.She cannot flee,
Since her few tatters scarce suffice to clothe
Her shrunken limbs.My years are nearly done,
My strength is well-nigh spent; yet I will go
Readily to the camping-ground.Perchance
I may be useful for some humble task,
To cook the rice or stir the morning meal."The clamour and the cries
Died down; but there was weeping and the sound
Of stifled moans around me.At the break
Of dawn I hurried on my road, and left
None but an old and broken man behind.--
* All words ending in `ao' are pronounced `ow', as in English
`vow', `allow', etc.--
Chants of Autumn
Shorn by the frost with crystal blade,
The dry leaves, scattered, fall at last;
Among the valleys of Wu Chan
Cold winds of death go wailing past.Tumultuous waves of the great river rise
And seem to storm the skies,
While snow-bright peak and prairie mist combine,
And greyness softens the harsh mountain line.Chrysanthemums unfurl to-day,
To-morrow the last flowers are blown.I am the barque that chains delay:
My homeward thoughts must sail alone.From house to house warm winter robes are spread,
And through the pine-woods red
Floats up the sound of the washerman's bat who plies
His hurried task ere the brief noon wanes and dies.702-762
The most famous name in Chinese literature.Born in the province
of Ssuch`uan, Li Po |
hallway | Where is Mary? | A suite of rooms overlooking the beautiful gardens of T`eng-hsiang T`ing,
where the Emperor retired after the routine of the day, was assigned to him.Here the poet improvised, whilst Ming Huang himself wrote down the verses
that he afterwards set to music, and accompanied while the poet sang.Mary journeyed to the bathroom.But Li Po, with all his enthusiasm for his patron and the delights
of the garden-life, was little of a courtier.When Ming Huang
bade the masterful eunuch Kao Li-shih unlace the poet's boots,
he gave him a relentless enemy whose malice pursued him,
until at length he was glad to beg leave to retire from the court,
where he was never at ease and to which he never returned.Troubadour-like, he wandered through the provinces,
the guest of mandarin and local governor, the star of the drinking-taverns,
the delight and embarrassment of all his hosts.At length
a friend of former days, to whom he had attached himself,
unhappily involved him in the famous rebellion of An Lu-shan.Yet prison doors were
ill warders of his fame, and letters of recall followed closely upon pardon;
but death overtook the exile before he could reach the capital,
and at the age of sixty his wanderings came to an end.Li Po was a poet with a sword by his side.He would have ruffled bravely
with our Elizabethans, and for a Chinese is strangely warlike in sentiment.How he loves the bravo of Chao with his sabre from the Chinese Sheffield
of Wu, "with the surface smooth as ice and dazzling as snow,
with his saddle broidered with silver upon his white steed;
who when he passes, swift as the wind, may be said to resemble
a shooting star!"He compares the frontiersman, who has never so much
as opened a book in all his life, yet knows how to follow in the chase,
and is skilful, strong, and hardy, with the men of his own profession."From these intrepid wanderers how different our literary men
who grow grey over their books behind a curtained window."It is harder to write of Li Po than of any other Chinese poet.Po Chu-i has his own distinctive feeling for romance,
Tu Fu his minute literary craftsmanship, Ssu-K`ung T`u the delicate aroma
of suggestive mysticism; but Li Po is many-sided, and has perhaps
more of the world-spirit than all of them.We can imagine this bold,
careless, impulsive artist, with his moments of great exaltation
and alternate depression, a kind of Chinese Paul Verlaine,
with his sensitive mind of a child, always recording impressions as they come.T`ai Chen the beautiful and the grim frontiersman are alike
faithfully portrayed.He lives for the moment, and the moment is often
wine-flushed like the rosy glow of dawn, or grey and wan as the twilight
of a hopeless day.To the City of Nan-king
Thou that hast seen six kingdoms pass away,
Accept my song and these three cups I drain!There may be fairer gardens light the plain;
Thine are the dim blue hills more fair than they.Here Kings of Wu were crowned and overthrown,
Where peaceful grass along the ruin wins;
Here -- was it yesterday?-- the royal Tsins
Called down the dreams of sunset into stone.One end awaits for all that mortal be;
Pride and despair shall find a common grave:
The Yang-tse-kiang renders wave and wave
To mingle with the abysms of the sea.Memories with the Dusk Return
The yellow dusk winds round the city wall;
The crows are drawn to nest,
Silently down the west
They hasten home, and from the branches call.Mary moved to the hallway.A woman sits and weaves with fingers deft
Her story of the flower-lit stream,
Threading the jasper gauze in dream,
Till like faint smoke it dies; and she, bereft,
Recalls the parting words that died
Under the casement some far eventide,
And stays the disappointed loom,
While from the little lonely room
Into the lonely night she peers,
And, like the rain, unheeded fall her tears.An Emperor's Love
In all the clouds he sees her light robes trail,
And roses seem beholden to her face;
O'er scented balustrade the scented gale
Blows warm from Spring, and dew-drops form apace.Her outline on the mountain he can trace,
Now leans she from the tower in moonlight pale.A flower-girt branch grows sweeter from the dew.A spirit of snow and rain unheeded calls.* -- but in the robes an Empress knew.The most renowned of blossoms, most divine
Of those whose conquering glances overthrow
Cities and kingdoms, for his sake combine
And win the ready smiles that ever flow
From royal lips.What matter if the snow
Blot out the garden?She shall still recline
Upon the scented balustrade and glow
With spring that thrills her warm blood into wine.--
* A delicate compliment to the beautiful T`ai Chen,
of which the meaning is that, as the Emperor Yang-ti of the Sui dynasty
elevated his mistress Fei-yen to share with him the throne,
so shall T`ai Chen become the Empress of Ming Huang.--
On the Banks of Jo-yeh
They gather lilies down the stream,
A net of willows drooping low
Hides boat from boat; and to and fro
Sweet whispered confidences seem
'Mid laughing trills to flow.In the green deeps a shaft of gold
Limns their elaborate attire;
Through silken sleeves the winds aspire,
Embalmed, to stray, and, growing bold,
Swell them to their desire.But who are these, the cavaliers
That gleam along the river-side?By three, by five they prance with pride
Beyond the willow-line that sheers
Over the trellised tide.A charger neighs; one turns to start,
Crushing the kingcups as he flies,
And one pale maiden vainly tries
To hush the tumult in her heart
And veil the secret of her eyes.Thoughts in a Tranquil Night
Athwart the bed
I watch the moonbeams cast a trail
So bright, so cold, so frail,
That for a space it gleams
Like hoar-frost on the margin of my dreams.I raise my head, --
The splendid moon I see:
Then droop my head,
And sink to dreams of thee --
My Fatherland, of thee!The Guild of Good-fellowship
The universe is but a tenement
Of all things visible.Darkness and day
The passing guests of Time.Life slips away,
A dream of little joy and mean content.wise the old philosophers who sought
To lengthen their long sunsets among flowers,
By stealing the young night's unsullied hours
And the dim moments with sweet burdens fraught.And now Spring beckons me with verdant hand,
And Nature's wealth of eloquence doth win
Forth to the fragrant-bowered nectarine,
Where my dear friends abide, a careless band.There meet my gentle, matchless brothers, there
I come, the obscure poet, all unfit
To wear the radiant jewellery of wit,
And in their golden presence cloud the air.And while the thrill of meeting lingers, soon
As the first courtly words, the feast is spread,
While, couched on flowers'mid wine-cups flashing red,
We drink deep draughts unto The Lady Moon.Then as without the touch of verse divine
There is no outlet for the pent-up soul,
'Twas ruled that he who quaffed no fancy's bowl
Should drain the "Golden Valley"* cups of wine.drink three cups of wine, the "Golden Valley" being the name
of a garden, the owner of which enforced this penalty
among his boon companions (`Gems of Chinese Literature', p.--
Under the Moon
Under the crescent moon's faint glow
The washerman's bat resounds afar,
And the autumn breeze sighs tenderly.Daniel moved to the bathroom.But my heart has gone to the Tartar war,
To bleak Kansuh and the steppes of snow,
Calling my husband back to me.Drifting
We cannot keep the gold of yesterday;
To-day's dun clouds we cannot roll away.Now the long, wailing flight of geese brings autumn in its train,
So to the view-tower cup in hand to fill and drink again,
And dream of the greatest singers of the past,
Their fadeless lines of fire and beauty cast.I too have felt the wild-bird thrill of song behind the bars,
But these have brushed the world aside and walked amid the stars.In vain we cleave the torrent's thread with steel,
In vain we drink to drown the grief we feel;
When man's desire with fate doth war this, this avails alone --
To hoist the sail and let the gale and the waters bear us on.Wang Ch`ang-ling
Circa A.D.750
This poet came from the district of Chiang-ning to the capital,
where he obtained his doctor's degree and distinguished himself
as a man of letters.For some time he filled a minor post,
but was eventually disgraced and exiled to the province of Hunan.When the rebellion of An Lu-shan broke out, he returned to his native place,
where he was cruelly murdered by the censor Lu Ch`in-hsiao.(See Hervey Saint-Denys, `Poe/sies des Thang', p.224;
Giles, `Biog.The Song of the Nenuphars
Leaves of the Nenuphars and silken skirts the same pale green,
On flower and laughing face alike the same rose-tints are seen;
Like some blurred tapestry they blend within the lake displayed:
You cannot part the leaves from silk, the lily from the maid.Only when sudden voices swell
Do maidens of their presence tell.Here long ago the girls of Sou, the darlings of the King,
Dabbled their shining skirts with dew from the gracious blooms of Spring.When to the lake's sun-dimpled marge the bright procession wends,
The languid lilies raise their heads as though to greet their friends;
When down the river-banks they roam,
The white moon-lady leads them home.Tears in the Spring
Clad in blue silk and bright embroidery
At the first call of Spring the fair young bride,
On whom as yet Sorrow has laid no scar,
Climbs the Kingfisher's Tower.Suddenly
She sees the bloom of willows far and wide,
And grieves for him she lent to fame and war.Chang Chih-ho
Circa A.D.750
A Taoist philosopher who lived in the time of the Emperor Su Tsung,
and held office under him.For some offence he was exiled,
and the royal pardon found him far too occupied to dream of return.Like so many of the same philosophy, he became a lonely wanderer,
calling himself the "Old Fisherman of the Mists and Waters".191) adds the curious statement
that "he spent his time in angling, but used no bait,
his object not being to catch fish."A World Apart
The Lady Moon is my lover,
My friends are the oceans four,
The heavens have roofed me over,
And the dawn is my golden door
I would liefer follow the condor
Or the seagull, soaring from ken,
Than bury my godhead yonder
In the dust of the whirl of men.Chang Jo-hu
Circa A.D.800
When heaven reveals her primal stainless blue,
Alone within the firmament there burns
The tiny torch of dusk.What startled eyes
Uplifted from the restless stream first met
The full round glory of the moon!Yon orb
That pales upon the flood of broad Kiang,
When did she first through twilight mists unveil
Her wonders to the world?Men come and go;
New generations hunger at the heels
Of those that yield possession.Still the moon
Fulfils her phases.While the tides of time
Eat out the rocks of empire, and the stars
Of human destiny adown the void
Go glittering to their doom, she changeless sweeps
Through all her times and destinies.The little lives that swarmed beneath the moon,
I cannot count them.This alone I know --
That, wave on wave, the Kiang seeks the sea,
And not a wave returns.One small white cloud
Threading the vasty vault of heaven recalls
My heart unto her loneliness.I sail
Between two banks, where heavy boughs enlace,
Whose verdurous luxuriance wakes once more
My many griefs.None know me as I am,
Steering to strange adventure.None may tell
If, steeped in the same moonlight, lies afar
Some dim pavilion where my lady dreams
Of me.That with soft touch now brightens into jade
Lintel and door, and when she lifts the blind
Floats through the darkened chamber of her sleep;
While leagues away my love-winged messages
Go flocking home; and though they mingle not,
Our thoughts seek one another.In the lilt
Of winds I hear her whisper: "Oh that I
Might melt into the moonbeams, and with them
Leap through the void, and shed myself with them
Upon my lover."She dreams --
Dreams of a fall o' flowers.young Spring
Lies on the threshold of maternity,
And still he comes not.Still the flowing stream
Sweeps on, but the swift torrents of green hours
Are licked into the brazen skies between
Their widening banks.The great deliberate moon
Now leans toward the last resort of night,
Gloom of the western waves.She dips her rim,
She sinks, she founders in the mist; and still
The stream flows on, and to the insatiate sea
Hurries her white-wave flocks innumerable
In never-ending tale.On such a night
How many tireless travellers may attain
The happy goal of their desire!So dreams
My lady till the moon goes down, and lo!A rush of troubled waters floods her soul,
While black forebodings rise from deeps unknown
And the cold trail of fear creeps round her heart.T`ung Han-ching
Circa A.D.800
The Celestial Weaver
A thing of stone beside Lake Kouen-ming
Has for a thousand autumns borne the name
Of the Celestial Weaver.Like that star
She shines above the waters, wondering
At her pale loveliness.Unnumbered waves
Have broidered with green moss the marble folds
About her feet.Toiling eternally
They knock the stone, like tireless shuttles plied
Upon a sounding loom.Her pearly locks
Resemble snow-coils on the mountain top;
Her eyebrows arch -- the crescent moon.A smile
Lies in the opened lily of her face;
And, since she breathes not, being stone, the birds
Light on her shoulders, flutter without fear
At her still breast.Immovable she stands
Before the shining mirror of her charms
And, gazing on their beauty, lets the years
Slip into centuries past her.Po Chu-i
A.D.772-846
Seventeen years old and already a doctor of letters, a great future
was before him.The life of such a man would seem to be one sure progress
from honour to honour.Yet it is to some petty exile,
some temporary withdrawal of imperial favour, that we owe "The Lute Girl",
perhaps the most delicate piece of work that has survived the age
of the golden T`angs.Sandra went back to the bathroom.Certainly the music is the most haunting,
suggestive of many- moods, with an undertone of sadness,
and that motive of sympathy between the artist-exiles of the universe
which calls the song from the singer and tears from the heart of the man.So exile brought its consolations, the voice and presence of "The Lute Girl",
and the eight nameless poets who became with Po |
kitchen | Where is Sandra? | In China it has always been possible for the artist
to live away from the capital.Provincial governor and high official
send for him; all compete for the honour of his presence.Respect, which is the first word of Chinese wisdom according to Confucius,
is paid to him.In provincial Europe his very presence would be unknown
unless he beat his wife on the high-road or stole a neighbour's pig.But his Celestial Majesty hears of the simple life at Hsiang-shan
and becomes jealous for his servant.The burden of ruling must once more
be laid on not too willing shoulders.Po Chu-i is recalled and promoted
from province to province, till eventually, five years before his death,
he is made President of the Board of War.Two short poems here rendered --
namely, "Peaceful Old Age" and "The Penalties of Rank" --
give us a glimpse of the poet in his old age, conscious of decaying powers,
glad to be quit of office, and waiting with sublime faith
in his Taoist principles to be "one with the pulsings of Eternity".Po Chu-i is almost nearer to the Western idea of a poet
than any other Chinese writer.He was fortunate enough to be born
when the great love-tragedy of Ming Huang and T`ai Chen was still fresh
in the minds of men.He had the right perspective, being not too near
and yet able to see clearly.He had, moreover, the feeling for romance
which is so ill-defined in other poets of his country,
though strongly evident in Chinese legend and story.He is an example
of that higher patriotism rarely met with in Chinese official life
which recognises a duty to the Emperor as Father of the national family --
a duty too often forgotten in the obligation to the clan and the desire
to use power for personal advantage.Passionately devoted to literature,
he might, like Li Po and Tu Fu, have set down the seals of office
and lived for art alone by the mountain-side of his beloved Hsiang-shan.But no one knew better than Po Chu-i that from him that hath much,
much shall be expected.The poet ennobled political life,
the broader outlook of affairs enriched his poetry and humanised it.And when some short holiday brought him across the frontier, and the sunlight,
breaking out after a noon of rain over the dappled valleys of China,
called him home, who shall blame him for lingering awhile
amid his forest dreams with his fishing and the chase.Yet solitude and the picturesque cannot hold him for long,
nor even the ardours of the chase.Po Chu-i is above all
the poet of human love and sorrow, and beyond all the consoler.Those who profess to find pessimism in the Chinese character
must leave him alone.At the end of the great tragedy
of "The Never-ending Wrong" a whispered message of hope is borne
to the lonely soul beating against the confines of the visible world: --
"Tell my lord," she murmured, "to be firm of heart as this gold and enamel;
then in heaven or earth below we twain may meet once more."It is the doctrine of eternal constancy, so dimly understood
in the Western world, which bids the young wife immolate herself
on her husband's tomb rather than marry again, and makes the whole world
seem too small for the stricken Emperor with all the youth and beauty of China
to command.The Lute Girl
The following is Po Chu-i's own preface to his poem: --
When, after ten years of regular service, I was wrongfully dismissed
from the Prefecture of the Nine Rivers and the Mastership of the Horse,
in the bright autumn of the year I was sent away to Ko-pen Creek's mouth.It was there that I heard, seated in my boat at midnight, the faint tones
of a lute.It seemed as though I was listening to the tones
of the gongs in the Palace of the Capital.On asking an old man,
I learnt that it was the performance of a woman who for many years
had cultivated the two talents of music and singing to good effect.In the course of time her beauty faded, she humbled her pride,
and followed her fate by becoming a merchant's wife.My grief was such
that I made a few short poems to set to music for singing.But now perturbed, engulfed, distressed, worn out, I move about
the river and lake at my leisure.And by the light of that same Star,
Three Wisemen came from country far;
To seek for a King was their intent,
And to follow the Star wherever it went.This Star drew nigh to the north-west,
O'er Bethlehem it took its rest,
And there it did both stop and stay,
Right over the place where Jesus lay.Then entered in those Wisemen three,
Full reverently upon their knee,
And offered there, in His Presence,
Their gold, and myrrh, and frankincense.Mary journeyed to the bathroom.Then let us all with one accord,
Sing praises to our Heavenly Lord,
That hath made Heaven and earth of nought,
And with His Blood mankind hath bought.God rest you, merry gentlemen,
Let nothing you dismay,
Remember Christ our Saviour
Was born on Christmas Day,
To save us all from Satan's power,
When we were gone astray;
Chorus
O tidings of comfort and joy, comfort and joy,
O tidings of comfort and joy.In Bethlehem, in Jewry,
This blessed Babe was born,
And laid within a manger,
Upon this blessed morn;
The which His Mother, Mary,
Did nothing take in scorn.From God our Heavenly Father,
A blessed Angel came;
And unto certain Shepherds
Brought tidings of the same:
How that in Bethlehem was born
The Son of God by Name.Now to the Lord sing praises,
All you within this place,
And with true love and brotherhood
Each other now embrace;
This holy tide of Christmas
All other doth deface.(At second carol, the children come out with half-eaten apples
and oaten cake, to stand listening to the singing.The children
mingle with the waits and offer them bites of their apples, etc.The widow comes out with a big steaming pot of mead to thank the
waits.Robin's men each try to take first drink.Robin stops quarrel and hands it to Tuck, who drinks hastily,
and so burns his mouth.)It's many a year
since I heard the sound of a Christmas carol.It does my old heart
good.(Descries the fiddler cousin, falls on his shoulder, and makes
talk of his family--_sotto voce_.)(Robin's men draw off and sing again)--
King Arthur had three sons, that he had.(A basket lowered from above with Santa Claus in it begins to
appear to the audience.Santa Claus
reaches out and taps Robin on the head, smartly, with a bit of
rope.Robin (terrified)--Saints preserve us.Robin--An air-man; a Miracle!Santa Claus (intones high tenor voice)--Fear not, except for thy sins.I
came to hear; what music was it ye sang?--Nay be not
affrighted--I'll e'en stand among ye.So shall ye see I bode no ill.Santa Claus--No Miracle am I, but the dear Christ's Almoner; who comes
this night and every Christmas-tide bearing gifts for all good
children and a good gift for all, even Jesus' love and Peace on
Earth, good will toward men.But this is a miracle, in truth, for
here be Waits joined hands with Robin Hood in songs of praise for
Christus' birth.Praise God for this and all good deeds, and by such shall these wild
hearts (turns to Robin's men) learn gentle love for all mankind.Santa Claus--And now, good people all, take note of Music; see how she
sways rough men and brings the good that's in us all to turn them
into better paths.King Arthur did quite right to those three sons
who would not sing.I've brought ye Xmas joys
For all good girls and boys.I command ye all to sing
In praise of our Lord King;
The Prince of Peace and God of Love
Who sitteth on the throne above.(Exit in balloon-basket upwards, leaving baskets of presents on
stage.)(Audience rises and sings)--
Adeste Fideles.Mary moved to the hallway.O come, all ye faithful,
Joyfully triumphant,
To Bethlehem hasten now with glad accord;
Lo!in a manger
Sits the King of angels;
:|| O come, let us adore Him, ||:
Christ the Lord.Raise, raise, choirs of angels!Songs of loudest triumph,
Thro' heavens' high arches be your praises pour'd;
Now to our God be,
Glory in the highest;
:|| O come, let us adore Him, ||:
Christ the Lord.Lord, we bless Thee,
Born for our salvation,
O Jesus, forever be Thy Name adored;
Word of the Father,
Now in flesh appearing;
:|| O come, let us adore Him, ||:
Christ the Lord.A brief account of some of the most noted ascents--Routes to Chamonix
from the Lake of Geneva.PAGE
THE VALLEY OF CHAMONIX _Frontispiece._
MONT BLANC FROM THE BREVENT, SHEWING THE ROUTE 13
THE GLACIER DES BOSSONS 18
THE "CABANE" ON THE GRANDS MULETS 26
MONT BLANC FROM THE COL DE BALME 42
COMING DOWN THE GLACIER DES BOSSONS 50
DIAGRAM SHEWING THE RELATIVE HEIGHTS OF MONT BLANC AND SNOWDON 56
MAP OF ROUTES TO CHAMONIX 72
_CHAPTER I._
"And thou, fresh breaking Day, and you, ye Mountains,
Why are ye beautiful?"On a delightful evening in the month of July, 1881, table d'hote being
over, my friend S---- and myself were seated under the verandah of the
hotel d'Angleterre at Chamonix; there were many others besides
ourselves, chiefly English and Americans, grouped in parties, some
taking their coffee, others smoking, and all devoting their attention to
the summit of Mont Blanc whose diadem of snow was being warmed in colour
if not in reality by the last rays of the setting sun.Daniel moved to the bathroom.Though seven
miles off as the crow flies it seemed much nearer, and it was hard to
realize that some twelve or fourteen hours of incessant toil must be
undergone before the foot could be planted on that rounded crest of
eternal snow, that guide and porter must be employed, and that ropes
and ice-axes must be brought into requisition before those apparently
gently-sloping hills of pure white down could be traversed.They looked
so smooth, so inviting, and so incapable of doing any one harm.The summit changed from gold to grey, the dome and Aiguille du Goute
faded from view, the Grands Mulets were no longer to be seen, and the
form of the Glacier des Bossons could scarcely be distinguished from the
Montagne de la Cote.Gradually and imperceptibly they vanished into
night, the stars came out, the guests retired, and following their
example I climbed up to my room on the sixth floor.We had left Martigny
at four in the morning, and had walked most of the way to Forclaz, and
the whole of it from thence over the Col de Balme, so I was not sorry to
get to bed.Not having the remotest intention of making the ascent my
slumbers were undisturbed by the excitement which they say invariably
precedes the undertaking, from which even professionals are said not to
be exempt.On getting up next morning I was very agreeably surprised to
find that the sun was shining brightly on the summit which was entirely
free from clouds--a somewhat unusual circumstance, as lofty mountain
peaks more often than otherwise are enveloped in them, especially in the
morning.Sandra went back to the bathroom.Feeling lazy and somewhat stiff after our long walk of the previous day,
we loitered about till nearly twelve o'clock, and then decided upon
taking advantage of the splendid weather by making an excursion to the
Brevent, a mountain on the north side of the valley, from which the view
of the Mont Blanc chain is one of the finest in the neighbourhood.A
mule was hired with a boy to attend it, and a stout muscular young guide
named Francois Ravanel was employed--not that there was any need of his
good services, but the rules and regulations of the "Bureau des Guides"
must be complied with, and one of these stipulates that a guide must in
all cases accompany a mule.After crawling upwards for a couple of hours, we arrived at a newly
erected hut, where refreshment was provided, and here the remainder of
the afternoon was devoted to the inspection of the magnificent scenery
which surrounded us on every side.The Valley of Chamonix lies nearly
east and west, and is so narrow that it might almost be termed a ravine.Sandra went to the kitchen.It is rather more than ten miles long and less than half a mile in
width.The mountains of the Mont Blanc range on the south, and those of
the Brevent, on the north, rise abruptly on either side, their bases
being covered with thick forests of pine for some two thousand feet
above the valley.On the south side countless "aiguilles" pierce the
sky, from le Tour on the east to the Aiguille du Goute on the west.These graceful spires are of warm tinted rock, and here and there
streaks of snow are to be seen in the crevices and gullies which are
shaded from the sun.Mary travelled to the kitchen.Several large glaciers descend from the northern
<DW72>s of the Mont Blanc chain, the first at the east or upper end being
the Glacier du Tour; the next is the Glacier d'Argentiere, which is the
largest of them all, being no less than seven miles long between its
upper and lower extremities and about a mile |
garden | Where is Sandra? | Three miles further to the west is the Glacier des Bois, the
termination of the famous Mer de Glace.Between it and the village of
Chamonix there are two or three unimportant glaciers which do not quite
reach the forest.The Glaciers des Bossons and Taconnaz complete the
list, the latter being ten miles from the Glacier du Tour.These gigantic streams of ice, hundreds of feet thick, are formed in the
upper regions of the mountains, and slowly and with irresistible force
slide down towards the valley, moving at a rate which varies according
to the season and other circumstances, but which seldom exceeds three
feet per day.They do not, however, quite reach the foot of the
mountain, for, as the temperature is excessively hot during the summer
months, the ice thaws rapidly, and the water thus formed rushes out in a
roaring torrent through a tunnel-like hole at the extremity or "Snout."[Illustration: VIEW OF MONT BLANC FROM THE BREVENT.NOTE.--_The route to the Summit is indicated by the dotted line._]
These torrents flow into the Arve, which in summer time roars along the
valley, leaping wildly over a bed of rocks and boulders in its headlong
course to mingle with the waters of the Rhone at Geneva.The view of Mont Blanc from this spot was magnificent.His snow-capped
head, glistening against a cloudless sky, formed the centre of the
picture.Slightly on his left, and a little lower, was the Mont Maudit,
separated by a thin line from the Mont Blanc du Tacul, and below the
rocky base of the former several dark-looking pointed specks could be
seen on the snow, the lower being the Grands-Mulets rocks, the upper the
Aiguilles a Pichner.Lower yet are the Glaciers des Bossons and
Taconnaz, on either side of the Montagne de la Cote, their delicately
green tinted surfaces becoming more rugged and sparkling as they neared
the valley.Apparently within rifle range the Aiguille du Midi raised
its mitred summit 12,600 feet above the sea, the precipitous naked rock
contrasting with the snow which here and there found lodgment, or lay in
detached fields some 5,000 feet above the valley.On the right of the
"Monarch of the Mountains" the Dome and Aiguille du Goute with their
silver robes completed the scene.On our way down the following arrangements were made for the next day's
excursion:--We were to visit the Grands Mulets, and in order to be back
for dinner were to start at six in the morning.A porter was to be
engaged, not to carry us or our belongings, but to act as the rear-guard
when the rope was used in dangerous places, and Francois undertook to
find a suitable man for that purpose.A mule was to be hired, Francois
remarking "you shall have the same mule and the same boy you had to-day;
you know them both."_CHAPTER II._
"Around his waist are forests braced,
The Avalanche in his hand."have a care,
Your next step may be fatal!--for the love
Of Him who made you, stand not on that brink!"The day broke bright and clear, and at six we were introduced by
Francois to his friend, Jules Tairraz, who looked very business-like
with a knapsack on his back and carrying an ice-axe and a coil of rope.The mule having overslept himself, we went on without him, and awaited
his arrival under the trees at the foot of the mountain.At last the
lazy brute hove in sight, walking in his usual style; then our coats,
the knapsack, rope, etc., were strapped on, and by way of adding to his
comfort I got into the saddle, and thus the ascent was begun.The route lay through the forest des Pelerins, and for some distance ran
parallel with the Arve, crossing the torrents which flow into that
river, over picturesque wooden bridges.Then, on approaching the lower
extremity of the Glacier des Bossons, it wound to the left and
zig-zagged up the base of the mountain.As we ascended the steep and narrow track an occasional gap in the trees
afforded a sight of the glacier and enabled us to perceive that
substantial progress was being made.The first stage of mountain climbing in these parts is decidedly
tiresome; the forest is so thick one can see little else besides, and
there is a monotony in the operation that would be unendurable were it
not for the end in view.The trees at length became more scarce and
stunted, and after two hours of this unexciting work they disappeared
altogether; Pierre Pointue was reached, and the first stage of our
journey was thus accomplished.I spent some time in
sketching this spot with its unassuming little buildings, and the
Aiguille du Goute in the back ground.We then moved on without the mule
and boy, and worked our way round the face of the mountain, the rock
being perpendicular to the left, and on our right a precipice, but the
track was sufficiently wide to enable us to walk in comfort and without
experiencing any of those feelings of nervousness which Albert Smith
felt when passing over the same ground thirty years ago.Mary journeyed to the bathroom.Three quarters of an hour after leaving Pierre Pointue, we reached
Pierre a l'Echelle, against whose side was reared a strong ladder which
is kept for use when the crevasses are too wide to be crossed without
its assistance.Its services were not, however, required on this
occasion.Mary moved to the hallway.Before introducing my readers to the Glacier des Bossons, which we were
about to traverse, I may remark that opinions differ widely as to the
difficulties and dangers of the undertaking.Some make very light of
them, while others lead one to suppose that nothing short of cat-like
agility, combined with heroic courage, could surmount the obstacles.The
fact is, that leaving out of consideration experience, nerve, and
surefootedness, the crossing of the Glacier may be comparatively easy
one day, and beset with dangers another, the difficulties varying with
the state of the ice, which is constantly changing.New crevasses are
being formed, and those already in existence alter from day to day, so
that great skill is required on the part of the guides to select a
feasible route.Daniel moved to the bathroom.Then, again, a snow bridge, consisting of a mere lump of
snow jammed into the upper part of a wide crevasse, may bear one's
weight or not according to a variety of circumstances, so after making
due allowance for the disparagement of difficulties on the one hand,
and the exaggeration of them on the other, it may fairly be said that
walking over the Bossons is not exactly child's play.At about eleven o'clock we stepped on the ice and were agreeably
surprised to find that there was no tendency to slip, our boots having
been well studded with nails before starting, and as yet the points had
not become rounded through wear.For the first half hour walking was
fairly easy, the surface, though irregular, being in no way difficult.After this we reached a queer-looking place, where the ice was split up
with yawning crevasses whose edges twisted and turned in the most
extraordinary way.Here there was a bit of climbing in which both hands
and feet had to take their part.Francois helped S----, Jules helped me,
and we each helped the other until all were safely across; and then
turning to look at the gulf we had just passed we noticed that the
_face_ of the ice (not the surface) was exquisitely tinted with the most
delicate green and blue, deepening into azure until it was lost in the
abyss.Between this spot and the junction of the Glaciers des Bossons and
Taconnaz, the ice was tolerably regular, and being free from snow there
were no unseen crevasses to be guarded against; until we reached the
"junction," where these mighty Glaciers part company.They seem to part
in anger, for here the ice is in a frightful state of confusion, with
the "seracs" (ice-bergs) heaped about in all directions, and with
fathomless crevasses on every side.[Illustration: GLACIER DES BOSSONS.]A halt was called, and Francois uncoiled the rope which he measured out,
forming a loop at every twelve feet or thereabouts; we were tied round
the chest, and having been cautioned to keep our distances, and on no
account to let the cord be slack, we proceeded on our way very slowly,
and with the greatest care.This was by far the most trying part of the
Glacier, and just before quitting this chaos our nerves were put to a
severe test, for the only method of advance was over a ridge of ice
about a foot wide, twisting about, and having a very irregular surface.Francois went first and cut some rude steps with his ice-axe, then we
walked after him at a snail's pace, at one moment seeking for a good
foot-hold, and the next looking into the crevasses on either side, the
azure blue of which was more beautiful than ever.We crossed without a
slip, and Francois remarked, "the most difficult part of the ascent to
the summit has now been accomplished."This observation, however, was not borne out by the facts which shall be
narrated in due course; but small blame to him, poor fellow!He was a
young guide, having only just passed his examination and obtained his
certificate, consequently he was naturally anxious to lead a party to
the top; besides this there was another motive, his fee would be
increased five-fold, twenty francs being the regulation charge to the
Grands Mulets, a hundred to the summit.For the next half hour or so
numerous crevasses barred the way; when they did not exceed four feet or
a little more we jumped across, and although we soon became accustomed
to the work it was not always an easy operation, for putting aside the
ugly look of the chasm, the foot-hold not being secure, it was a
somewhat difficult matter to spring from the slippery brink of ice on
which we stood.Sandra went back to the bathroom.Sometimes we crossed over a snow-bridge but a few feet
wide, Francois first prodding it with the handle of his axe; then, being
satisfied that it would bear, he stepped forward, while we stood on the
alert to save him from an untimely death should the snow give way.Sandra went to the kitchen.The
difficulties lessened as we advanced, and, our attention not being
constantly directed to our footsteps, we were enabled to look about us a
little more.The dark- Grands Mulets, no longer insignificant
but rising some hundreds of feet above the snow, their wedge-like forms
leaning well forward, seemed to defy the mighty downward pressure of
avalanche and ice.Mary travelled to the kitchen.The colour of the sky was of the deepest blue, almost indigo, the
intensity of which far exceeded anything we had ever seen, or could have
imagined possible, and it was not until we had been in the "Cabane" on
the Grands Mulets for some time that we discovered that the sky is the
same here as in any ordinary atmosphere at a lower level.The cause of
the deception is easily explained; our eyes had been rivetted on ice and
shining snow for several hours, consequently the colour appeared deeper
by contrast.Daniel journeyed to the kitchen.Sandra went to the garden.At length we quitted the Glacier, and the remainder of the
journey was on <DW72>s of snow.In some respects it was pleasanter than
before; there was a nice soft feeling about it, there was no fear of
slipping, and no particular care had to be exercised.On the other hand
the work was more fatiguing, and worst of all our boots were getting wet
through.The base of the Grands Mulets was nearly reached when our
arrival was announced by Jules, who gave a genuine Alpine shout which
was answered from the "Cabane," and, having clambered up the rocks, at
1.30 we entered the little hut.Prior to Albert Smith's ascent there was no refuge of any kind in this
wild and exposed situation.But as the number of excursionists spending
a night on the rocks to see the glories of sunset and sunrise was on the
increase, a rude hut fourteen feet long by seven wide was erected by the
guides in 1854.The walls were formed of flat blocks and splinters of
the rock, and the roof was of boards.The existing "Cabane" is somewhat larger.It is divided into three
compartments, two of which are furnished with a couple of beds covered
with coarse rugs, a deal table and two stools.The other room is fitted
with a small cooking-stove, and is used by the man and woman in charge,
and by passing guides and porters.On the north side there is a narrow
walk about a yard in width protected by a hand-rail, and on the west a
short sloping path leading to the snow.Hence it is plain that the life
of those who dwell on this barren rock during the season is not unlike
that of lighthouse keepers.True it is that they may stretch their legs
on the snow, but the only out of door exercise they can take in comfort
is the narrow walk, some forty or fifty feet in length, referred to.Supplies are as a matter of course brought to this isolated place with
difficulty and at considerable expense, consequently the prices charged,
though high, are not exorbitant, more especially as the proprietor pays
a large sum to the Commune for his license.Luncheon was just over when
a foreigner, accompanied by two guides and a porter, joined us in the
hut.He was on his way back to Chamonix, having successfully made the
ascent.There was an air of joy in his countenance, and satisfaction in
his every movement, and we fondly hoped to be in the same happy frame of
mind at the expiration of twenty-four hours or so.Having rested for a
while, he with his party quitted the "Cabane," and, roped together,
crept down the rocks.Just as they reached the snow I shouted to the
guide, "Will you have the kindness to tell them at the hotel
d'Angleterre that we mean to go to the top?""Very well, sir, I shall
not forget."Then leaning over the post and rail-fence, we watched them
going down the <DW72>s till they disappeared from view among the
"seracs."_CHAPTER III._
"The world is all before me; I but ask
Of Nature that with which she will comply--
It is but with her summer's sun to bask,
To mingle in the quiet of her sky,
To see her gentle face without a mask,
And never gaze on it with apathy.""All heaven and earth are still, though not in
sleep."The sun shone brightly on the pure white snow by which we were
surrounded; the air was motionless, and not a sound disturbed the
stillness of that memorable afternoon.At our feet lay the Glacier des Bossons."Heaven-descended in its
origin, it yet takes its mould and conformation from the hidden womb of
the mountain which brought it forth.At first soft and ductile, it
acquires a character and firmness of its own, as an inevitable destiny
urges it on its onward career.Jostled and constrained by the crosses
and irregularities of its prescribed path, hedged in by impassable
barriers which fix limits to its movements, it yields groaning to its
fate, and still travels forward seamed with the scars of many a conflict
of opposing obstacles.All this while, though wasting, it is renewed by
an unseen power,--it evaporates, but is not consumed."On its surface it bears the spoils which, during the progress of its
existence, it has made its own; often weighty burdens devoid of beauty
or value, at times precious masses, sparkling with gems or ore.Having
at length attained its greatest width and extension, commanding
admiration by its beauty and power, waste predominates over supply, the
vital springs begin to fail; it stoops into an attitude of
decrepitude--it drops the burdens one by one it had borne so proudly
aloft--its dissolution is inevitable.But as it is resolved into its
elements, it takes |
bedroom | Where is Daniel? | Northward on the opposite side of the valley rose the Brevent.Mary journeyed to the bathroom.The
buttress up which we had ridden the day before seemed quite vertical and
inaccessible from this point of view.The pine forest clothing its base
resembled turf, while the zig-zag paths above appeared as fine yellow
threads.Turning towards the west, vast fields of sloping snow formed
the foreground, and towering above them rose the imposing Dome du Goute,
relieved here and there by dark- patches of rock; further to the
left the base of the Aiguille a Pichner, the upper of the two little
specks we had noticed at Chamonix and from the Brevent.Time passed
rapidly; what with sketching, discussing the prospects of a successful
ascent (concerning which our fellows had not the slightest misgiving,
although we had two guides less than the regulation number), perusing
the traveller's book, looking at the scenery, and basking in the sun, we
had a most delightful time of it.At five we sat down to a plain dinner,
although it consisted of several courses; and having indulged in our
usual smoke, we lay down to rest during the few hours which remained
before our re-commencing the ascent.Although it was rather early for
sleep we might have done something in that direction had not our
attempts been rudely interfered with.Mary moved to the hallway.When we lay down all was still as
death, and remained so for a time; then there was a terrific noise of
stones rattling against the wooden walls of the hut.The cause of all
this was that an addition to the building is about to be made, and the
levelling of the rock for its reception is done by the men who bring up
the materials from Pierre Pointue, and the only time they give to it is
before retiring at night.They had
crossed the Glacier _twice_ that day with heavy loads of wood on their
backs, and not contented they must needs set to work at sunset to the
discomfort of those who, like good children, had gone to bed at an early
hour.At length this diabolical noise ceased, and we again courted
sleep, and were on the verge of attaining it when voices were heard
outside followed by a thundering kick at the door, which was opened by
the inconsiderate fellow who had bestowed it, and who, on perceiving
that the beds were occupied, uttered a "Pardon, Messieurs," and slamming
it disappeared.But this was not the last of him and his friend, who,
occupying the next room to ours, made as much noise as if they were
doing it by contract.The partition being thin I heard nearly every word
they said, and was somewhat amused and very disgusted at the following
dialogue which was carried on in French between one of the tourists and
a guide.[Illustration: Aiguille a Pichner."CABANE" ON THE GRANDS MULETS.]"What are the regulations as to the payment of your expenses here?""There are no regulations, sir; you are not obliged to pay for us; but
as a fact we have never paid; our employers have invariably done so.""Oh, very well, we don't object, only we think that if you let it be
understood that you would have to pay, they would probably charge
somewhat less!"To this interesting conversation succeeded the clattering of knives and
forks; later on subdued talking, which ended finally in regular and
prolonged snores.These interruptions effectually drove sleep away, coax
it as we would.Daniel moved to the bathroom.With closed eyes and in a half dreamy state I saw the
"seracs" and crevasses, and passed over the ground we had traversed in
the morning.Then regaining the full possession of my faculties, I asked
myself if I was not bent on taking part in an idiotic action by starting
in the middle of the night to clamber up some thousands of feet of snow
and ice.Should I be repaid for the trouble and discomfort?Most likely
there would be clouds or mist to hide the scenery, and even if there
were not, would the game be worth the candle?Would not my friends say,
"Very wrong, and very foolish, too; you ought to have known better?"Inclination tried hard to make me change my resolve, but was beaten in
the attempt; and I am glad of it, for I was repaid, and amply, too.Later on, in the perfect stillness of that calm night, I heard a loud
rattling report caused by the falling of a mighty avalanche.It was now
ten o'clock; rolling restlessly about, I waited for the knock which was
to summon us at a quarter to twelve.At last it came; a shuffling of
feet was heard which approached nearer and nearer, then the signal was
given, and in a few minutes we were ready for Francois to put on our
half dried and dreadfully stiff boots (despite the grease) and to tie on
the gaiters.I ate some bread and cheese, and drank a glass of water,
but S---- took nothing.My flask was filled with brandy; some
provisions, two bottles of Bordeaux, and one of Champagne, were stowed
away in Jules' knapsack, and we each took a packet of raisins, prunes,
and chocolate, which we were assured would be very acceptable later on.As to our clothing, S---- had on an alpaca coat and knickerbockers,
whilst I wore an ordinary light summer suit.We were unprovided with top
coats, wrappers, and had _no_ gloves.S---- had bought a pair of
spectacles some day previously, but, having nothing of the
kind, I was fortunate in being able to procure a pair of goggles at the
Grands Mulets, without which I could not have made the ascent, as the
glare of the snow would in all probability have produced snow blindness.We were now at an elevation of 10,000 feet, the goal we hoped to reach
at six or seven in the morning was 15,780 feet above the sea,
consequently the portion _yet_ to be ascended was no less than 5,780
feet, or nearly twice the height of Snowdon.Midway between the Grands
Mulets and the summit is the Grand Plateau, and to reach it three
gigantic snow-<DW72>s or steps, each some 900 feet high, have to be
surmounted, then the remaining portion of the journey is over the
Bosses du Dromadaire, the Mauvaise Arete, and the final <DW72>._CHAPTER IV._
"The stars are forth, the moon above the tops
Of the snow-shining mountains.--Beautiful!"Our modest preparations being now completed, the rope was stretched
along the narrow path, loops were made, and we were tied in the
following order--Francois, S----, myself, then Jules.All being ready,
Francois moved forward with a lantern, and in a couple of minutes we
were fairly on the snow.All thoughts of difficulties, dangers, and what
our friends would say, were left in the "Cabane," and our sole attention
was devoted to the breasting of the gigantic <DW72>s which are called Les
Montees.Sandra went back to the bathroom.The night was fine but dark, the moon not having risen yet.Onwards and
upwards we went in silence, and with slow and measured tread, keeping at
distances of about twelve feet apart.Sandra went to the kitchen.We had not proceeded very far
before we came to a dead stop, and on enquiring of S---- what it meant,
he replied that Francois' nose was bleeding.This is one of the many
inconveniences to which one is liable at these altitudes.On looking
back we saw a light advancing, and as it came nearer and nearer we made
out the figures of a party of six men crawling slowly in our direction.They were the noisy foreigners who had not added to our comfort in the
"Cabane."On drawing near a great deal of talk went on between their
guides and ours in patois.Then they went ahead, and, Francois having
recovered, we followed them closely, as soon as the route--concerning
which there appeared to be some doubt--had been agreed upon.Mary travelled to the kitchen.The work
was tiresome, with nothing to look at besides the snow under our feet,
and no excitement of any description, not even the jumping of a
crevasse.To add to the monotony, talking was prohibited, for, having
made some remarks to Jules as we went along, I was advised by him not to
speak; and no doubt he was right, as a certain amount of exertion was
necessary to carry on a conversation, separated as we were by an
interval of several yards.This portion of the journey was decidedly
uphill work, figuratively as well as literally.At about two o'clock the
moon appeared above the tops of the mountains, and although it had just
entered the last quarter, it afforded sufficient light to enable
Francois to dispense with the lantern, which he left on the snow; on
several occasions we stopped a considerable time while mounting the
steep <DW72>s, without any apparent reason.Daniel journeyed to the kitchen.At last, becoming quite impatient, I asked S---- to pass the word to
Francois to get ahead of the "foreigners."He preferred, however, to
follow in their path, thinking that the track must be rather more easy
by being beaten down.Although so thinly clad I did not suffer in the
least from cold, except in my feet, which was not to be wondered at,
considering that my socks were cotton, and that my boots, damp at
starting, were now wet through.On nearing the Petit Plateau we went up
a <DW72> which was nearly perpendicular.It was not snow, for that
substance could not have stood at so steep an angle; and it was not hard
ice, but neve--its consistence was much the same as that of an ice
pudding; by giving a smart kick the foot entered sufficiently to afford
a good hold.It was really very steep, and at the same time a
particularly easy bit of climbing; but, had we been photographed, the
uninitiated would have marvelled at our daring.After this we walked on
the level for a short distance, and arrived in full sight of the Petit
Plateau before reaching which we we went along some very narrow ridges
of ice with deep crevasses on either side, then up some snow <DW72>s, at
the top of which we stood on the Plateau.Sandra went to the garden.This we crossed at as rapid a
pace as circumstances permitted on account of the danger of falling
avalanches that beset this spot.The guides will have it that the
slightest disturbance of the atmosphere, such as can be created by the
human voice, is sufficient to cause a disaster; and as it is always as
well to practice obedience, we proceeded on our way without uttering a
word.So far I had not experienced any difficulty of breathing, nor had I
suffered from thirst; but soon after quitting the Grands Mulets I felt a
dryness in the mouth and throat, and then I tried the effects of a
raisin; but not being satisfied with the result, took a prune, and,
discarding the fruit, rolled the stone in my mouth, from which process I
derived great benefit.Daniel went to the bedroom.Plodding steadily upwards, we asked from time to
time whether we were not yet half way?"No, sir; not till we arrive at
the Grand Plateau, and it is some distance off yet."How we longed for day-light, that the monotony of this night excursion
might be broken by the sight of the grand scenery which, though
surrounding, was almost invisible to us!Before the Grand Plateau was reached we stopped for refreshment.We had
been tramping for nearly four hours, and it was needed.The knapsack was
opened, and a bottle of wine produced, but what about the corkscrew?So Francois volunteered to operate with his
ice-axe, but as he was far less expert in decapitating a bottle than in
hewing steps, a considerable portion of the contents was lost.It was
not long before we resumed our march, and having nearly traversed the
Grand Plateau another halt was made, and this time we meant to eat as
well as drink.Not feeling hungry I was told by our fellows that no one
had much appetite up here.Then the remaining bottle of claret was
uncorked with care, and after we had partaken of its contents sparingly,
it was deposited in the snow for our return.Much as we should have
liked to sit down and rest we could not do so, for reposing on a bed of
snow was not to be thought of.Resuming our journey we soon came up with
and passed the other party who were grouped together apparently engaged
in our late occupation.Dawn now began to break, and stopping for a few
minutes at the foot of a long and regular incline I said to S---- "Well,
have have you had enough of it?"To my inexpressible surprise, he
answered "Yes, I feel so ill that I do not think I shall be able to go
on, and the summit seems as far off as ever."It was now broad
day-light, and we were little more than half-way.come on, women have done it, and why should not we?""I am ill, and your talking in that way only makes me worse."Then I called Francois, who made light of it, remarking that feelings of
sickness are often experienced in this locality; the flask was produced,
and we took a little nip all round, and went on.After going a short distance, S---- said, "I feel dreadfully ill, I
never felt so bad in my life, it is impossible for me to go on.I could
not reach the Plateau for L10,000.Go on, and I will find my way back to
the Grands Mulets, somehow.""That's out of the question; you can't get there alone, and as there is
no help for it, we must all go back."Then I told Francois, and the poor
fellow's countenance at once fell below zero.This was his first ascent as guide, although he had accompanied other
parties as porter on eleven previous occasions.Matters certainly looked
gloomy at this moment.S---- not only appeared the picture of misery,
but was undoubtedly very ill--suffering, in fact, from mountain
sickness; he complained of internal cold and shivered all over, besides
experiencing other sensations which are best described in his own
words,--"It seemed as though all power had departed from my limbs, my
eyes were dim and incapable of vision, and I more than once put my hand
to them and my ears and mouth to make sure that blood was not spurting
forth."Feeling averse to beat a hasty retreat after all the toil that had been
undergone, and when the end was so comparatively near, and hoping
against hope that S---- might yet be able to reach the summit, we tried
to make him as comfortable as possible.A seat was made on the snow with
alpenstocks and ice-axe handles, and Jules goodnaturedly took off his
jacket, in which he wrapped the invalid.It was near this very spot that
Sir Thomas Talfourd's expedition was forced to return through the same
cause in 1843.At this time the other party came in sight, crawling
slowly up the <DW72> of snow, walking in single file, and roped together.On moving past us and noticing that there was something amiss, one of
the guides observed to me:
"You are all right, or you would not be able to smoke."They then
discovered that we were going back, and the same fellow who had just
spoken to me said, "Do you wish to make the ascent, sir?""Of course I do; that is why I am here.""Then untie yourself and fasten on to our line, and come on.""Yes, with pleasure, if your employers are willing."Sandra went to the bathroom.Whispering was carried on, and, after some conversation in patois,
Francois announced that they were _not_ willing.Then S---- rose up, quietly remarking:
"We had better get on.""You can't do it, man; you are far too ill.""I will, if I die for it!"Without further talk we made a fresh start up this interminable <DW72>.The indignation S---- felt at the churlish behaviour of the
"foreigners" completely restored him, the effect produced being the same
as intense excitement on those who are suffering from _mal |
garden | Where is Mary? | I
pictured to myself the fun we should have on our way back, and the
railway speed with which we should come down, but I quite left out of
the calculation what the condition of the snow might be a few hours
hence.It was broad day-light when we reached the top of the incline,
and the sun's welcome rays were beginning to brighten up the aiguilles
and peaks on our left.Looking back the spectacle was not only grand and
beautiful but weird-like, and the perfect stillness that reigned made it
all the more impressive.The valley of Chamonix was filled with clouds,
not mere fog or mist, but real clouds rolling beneath us, and slowly
rising up the mountains whose rugged peaks and sharp-pointed aiguilles
reared their graceful heads against a back ground of unclouded sky.The
scene was one to be remembered, and we felt that we were beginning to
reap the fruits of our five hours toil.Travelling was fairly easy, the
snow being in splendid condition, and as there was no danger to be
guarded against we were able to devote the whole of our attention to the
scenery.Think
of the dire results, notwithstanding that the windows and doors remain
wide open!The Board of Health would soon deal with the negligent
official or landlord.With very few exceptions, "civilized" men, women,
and children are negligent and niggardly caretakers of the human
dwelling place--the marvellous body of man."Lack of time," "haven't
the time," or "no time," is the excuse they give themselves and others.Notwithstanding the numberless victims around them, none of these
negligent and niggardly ones seem to get alarmed until the secondary
symptoms, such as indigestion, gout, rheumatism, or disease of some
vital organ, are sufficiently annoying to demand attention.Man does the best he knows how, as a general
rule.But often he doesn't know how; he needs enlightening.The hints I have given will, I am confident, be considered and acted
upon by all to whose attention they are brought, for by acting upon
them, normal bodies and minds will result, and blessings attained
heretofore considered impossible.Normal health depends on right doing
and being.Eternal vigilance is the price to be paid for the attainment
and maintenance of the goal of normal life and progress.Eliminate all
waste material from the body and all shifty vermin from the mind, and
the millennium for all things in the universe will soon dawn.FOURTEEN REASONS
WHY WE SHOULD BATHE INTERNALLY AS WELL AS EXTERNALLY
1.Because very few persons are free from chronic inflammation of the
anus, rectum, and sigmoid flexure, which causes contraction of the
caliber of the organs.None escape self-poisoning from the gastro-intestinal canal.Many
are constantly being poisoned from the entrance of bacterial and other
toxic substances into the system.Nine-tenths of the ills that afflict mankind have their origin in a
foul digestive apparatus and a consequently poisoned body.Disease of the anus, rectum, and sigmoid flexure results in from
two-thirds to three-fourths of the feces being daily absorbed into the
system.Feces unduly retained become very foul or malodorous.If the feces
of birds and domestic fowls and animals were as obnoxious as that
usually ejected by man their discharges would require immediate removal
from human neighborhoods.Man is the only creature that has formed the habit of making a fecal
cesspool of his large intestine; hence his diseases of many varieties.There is nothing wholesome about him and he is quite destitute of vim,
vigor, and push.The fecal poisoning of his parents is stamped upon
him, and the unhygienic condition of his bowels makes matters worse.Man needs to form the habit of stooling as frequently as birds,
fowls, and quadrupeds--at least as many times in twenty-four hours as
he partakes of food.Making a reservoir of the lower bowels is not a time-saving habit,
but, on the contrary, a breeder of many poisons, causing all sorts of
acute and chronic diseases, which demand much time and attention, as
countless numbers know to their sorrow.You are a factor in the social and business world; then why not
look, feel, and be your best by simply adopting internal hygienic
measures?By the use of the Internal J.B.L.Cascade Bath you can secure two
or three stools a day, as desired; and while you are preventing
self-poisoning you are regaining a normal habit and natural health,
which for so many years and generations have been denied you.Do not
longer perpetuate the dire results of a foul alimentary canal and
consequently diseased body.All desire to be strong and healthy, and many would add beauty of
form and complexion, which is also commendable.This can be attained by
preventing disease through hygienic attention and the proper use of
water.The gastro-intestinal canal is a physiological, moving food supply
for the body, and, like any other vessel that has contained fermenting
substances, it should be emptied and cleaned before a fresh supply is
put into it.This is only a sensible, reasonable, and cleanly duty to
one's self.Who can fear being made sick by adopting cleanly habits?You have
perhaps tried all other means to keep well, and have failed; now try
intestinal cleanliness--a method you should have thought of long ago.Every one desires to avoid surgery, the taking of numerous
medicines, and the spending of money in that way--and they _can_ be
avoided if you keep _clean_, both internally and externally.* * * * *
You're Not Healthy Unless
You're Clean INSIDE
And the one way to real internal cleanliness--by which you are
protected against ninety per cent of all human ailments--is through
_proper_ internal bathing, with plain antiseptic warm water.There is nothing unusual about this treatment--no drugs, no
dieting--nothing but the correct application of Nature's own cleanser.But only since the invention of the J.B.L.Cascade has a means for
_proper_ internal bathing existed.Mary travelled to the garden.Only one treatment is known for actually cleansing the colon without
the aid of elaborate surgical apparatus.This is
THE INTERNAL BATH
By Means of the
J.B.L.Metchnikoff, Europe's leading authority on intestinal conditions,
is quoted as saying that, if the colon and its poisonous contents were
removable, people would live in good health to twice the present
average of human life.A. Wilfred Hall, Ph.D., L.L.D., and W. E. Forest, B.D., M.D., two
world-famous authorities on internal bathing, are among the thousands
of physicians who have given their hearty and active endorsement and
support to the J.B.L.Fully half a million men and women and children now use this real boon
to humanity--most of them in accordance with their doctor's orders.John journeyed to the bathroom.TYRRELL ADVISE YOU
Dr.Tyrrell is always very glad of an opportunity to consult freely
with anyone who writes him--and at no expense or obligation whatever.Describe your case to him and he gives you his promise that you will
learn facts about yourself which you will realize are of vital
importance.You will also receive his book, "The What, the Why, the
Way," which is a most interesting treatise on internal bathing.CHARLES A. TYRRELL, M.D.65th Street, New York
IF YOU SUFFER FROM ROUGH, SCALY, CRACKED SKIN
If You Value a Good Complexion
Dr.Tyrrell's Health Soap
Effectually Disposes of Troubles.It
Is Refreshing, Purifying, Invigorating
Among the necessities of life there is one to which few people pay the
attention they ought, and that is Soap.Yet it is undoubtedly a most
important matter, for the skin is a very delicate and sensitive organ,
and the constant application of impure or inferior Soaps injures its
texture, and gives rise to numerous cutaneous troubles.Most people are
content, so long as it appeals to the eye and the sense of smell,
without stopping to consider that perfumes may be employed to hide
defects.Tyrrell has given this matter long and profound consideration and
now offers to the public a SOAP that leaves nothing to be desired.It
is not only absolutely free from any deleterious substance, but is a
perfect antiseptic and healing soap.Its use thoroughly cleanses and
invigorates the skin, keeps it soft, flexible and healthy, and
effectually prevents rough, cracked and scaly conditions.It is
invaluable for TAN, FRECKLES, SUNBURN, Etc., and is a perfect hygienic
safeguard against cutaneous disorders.It is a positive pleasure to use
it for the toilet or bath, as it leaves such a grateful, refreshing
after-effect.As a SHAVING SOAP it is unequalled, absolutely preventing those
disagreeable results that frequently follow the use of impure soap.25 Cents Per Cake
Manufactured solely by
CHARLES A. TYRRELL, M.D.Formerly President of
Tyrrell Hygienic Institute
134 W.65th Street, New York City
Sufferers from Catarrh
THERE IS GLORIOUS NEWS FOR YOU.No matter how much you may suffer from that most distressing and
inconvenient complaint, a speedy and effective release from your
sufferings is now offered to you.THE J. B. L. CATARRH REMEDY
Is one of those sterling specifics whose curative effects are quickly
realized on the first trial.It is intended to be used in connection
with the flushing treatment, and the two used in conjunction
RARELY FAIL TO EFFECT A CURE.Catarrh is first caused by inflammation of the membrane of the nasal
cavities and air passages, which is followed by ulceration, when
nature, in order to shelter this delicate tissue, and protect the
olfactory nerves, throws a tough membrane over the ulcerated condition.Flushing the Colon lays the foundation for recovery, but the membrane
must be removed, and for that purpose the J.B.L.Catarrh Remedy IS
WITHOUT AN EQUAL.It is composed of several kinds of oils, and gently, but effectually,
removes the membrane that nature has built over the inflamed parts,
while its emollient character soothes and allays the inflammation.These drugs are not absorbed into the system, but act only locally.THE MOST OBSTINATE CASE WILL READILY YIELD
TO THIS TREATMENT.The price is One Dollar per bottle, which, in view of its marvellous
curative power, is a veritable gift, and with each bottle we furnish an
inhaler specially manufactured for the purpose.Two bottles will
usually effect a cure--though one has been frequently known to do so in
mild cases--but in the event of any one taking six bottles without
being cured, we will forfeit
ONE HUNDRED DOLLARS,
now deposited in the Lincoln Trust Co.of New York, if they can
honestly make oath that they have faithfully used the remedy according
to the directions, and have received no benefit from it.YOU CANNOT AFFORD
to neglect this opportunity of ridding yourself of this most
distressing complaint, which, if neglected too often
LEADS TO CONSUMPTION._DELAYS ARE DANGEROUS._
CHARLES A. TYRRELL, M.D.FORMERLY PRESIDENT OF
TYRRELL'S HYGIENIC INSTITUTE,
134 WEST 65TH STREET
NEW YORK
The J.B.L.Antiseptic Tonic
should always be used when introducing water into the intestines.The
use of this preparation renders the water completely sterile unless it
be notoriously impure.But the
Antiseptic Tonic possesses another important property which is most
valuable in cases of Constipation, for it acts as an admirable tonic on
the muscular coat of the colon, strengthening it and restoring it to
normal.Owing to the importance of
using the tonic, I have arranged to make it as inexpensive as possible
and am prepared to furnish it (to users of the Cascade only) in one
pound air-proof cans at the price of $1.00; by mail twenty cents extra.You can buy this at your druggist and save mail charges.Charles A. Tyrrell, M.D.UNDERSHAFT [in profound irony] Genuine unselfishness is capable
of anything, my dear.BARBARA [unsuspectingly, as she turns away to take the money
from the drum and put it in a cash bag she carries] Yes, isn't
it?[Undershaft looks sardonically at Cusins].CUSINS [aside to Undershaft] Mephistopheles!BARBARA [tears coming into her eyes as she ties the bag and
pockets it] How are we to feed them?I can't talk religion to a
man with bodily hunger in his eyes.[Almost breaking down] It's
frightful.JENNY [running to her] Major, dear--
BARBARA [rebounding] No: don't comfort me.Mrs Baines says she prayed
for it last night; and she has never prayed for it in vain: never
once.[She goes to the gate and looks out into the street].BARBARA [who has dried her eyes and regained her composure] By
the way, dad, Mrs Baines has come to march with us to our big
meeting this afternoon; and she is very anxious to meet you, for
some reason or other.JENNY [at the gate: excitedly] Major!Oh, I hope he's coming back to join
us.Bill Walker, with frost on his jacket, comes through the gate,
his hands deep in his pockets and his chin sunk between his
shoulders, like a cleaned-out gambler.He halts between Barbara
and the drum.BILL [nagging at her] Bin talkin ever sense, av you?Well, has Todger paid you out for poor
Jenny's jaw?You want to know where the snow come from,
don't you?Well, it come from off the ground in Parkinses Corner in
Kennintahn.Pity you didn't rub some off with your knees, Bill!That
would have done you a lot of good.BILL [with your mirthless humor] I was saving another man's knees
at the time.E was kneelin on my ed, so e was.E was prayin for me: prayin comfortable with me
as a carpet.So was the ole bloomin meetin.Mog she
sez "O Lord break is stubborn spirit; but don't urt is dear art."An er bloke--thirteen
stun four!--kneelin wiv all is weight on me.BARBARA [enjoying it frankly] Nonsense!You must have done something to him
first.BILL [doggedly] I did wot I said I'd do.E
looks up at the sky and sez, "O that I should be fahnd worthy to
be spit upon for the gospel's sake!"a sez; an Mog sez "Glory
Allelloolier!"; an then a called me Brother, an dahned me as if I
was a kid and a was me mother washin me a Setterda nawt.I adn't
just no show wiv im at all.Arf the street prayed; an the tother
arf larfed fit to split theirselves.are you
settisfawd nah?BARBARA [her eyes dancing] Wish I'd been there, Bill.Yes: you'd a got in a hextra bit o talk on me, wouldn't
you?BILL [fiercely] Don't you go bein sorry for me: you've no call.No, it didn't hurt me: indeed it didn't, except for a
moment.I don't want to be forgive be you, or be ennybody.Wot I
did I'll pay for.I tried to get me own jawr broke to settisfaw
you--
JENNY [distressed] Oh no--
BILL [impatiently] Tell y'I did: cawn't you listen |
kitchen | Where is John? | All I got be it was bein made a sight of in the public
street for me pains.Well, if I cawn't settisfaw you one way, I
can another.I ad two quid saved agen the frost; an
I've a pahnd of it left.A mate n mine last week ad words with
the Judy e's goin to marry.E give er wot-for; an e's bin fined
fifteen bob.E ad a right to it er because they was goin to be
marrid; but I adn't no right to it you; so put anather fawv bob
on an call it a pahnd's worth.Take it; and let's av no more o your forgivin an
prayin and your Major jawrin me.Let wot I done be done and paid
for; and let there be a end of it.Oh, I couldn't take it, Mr.But if you would give
a shilling or two to poor Rummy Mitchens!you really did hurt
her; and she's old.I'd give her anather as soon as
look at er.Let her av the lawr o me as she threatened!She ain't
forgiven me: not mach.Wot I done to er is not on me mawnd--wot
she [indicating Barbara] might call on me conscience--no more
than stickin a pig.It's this Christian game o yours that I won't
av played agen me: this bloomin forgivin an noggin an jawrin that
makes a man that sore that iz lawf's a burdn to im.I won't av
it, I tell you; so take your money and stop throwin your silly
bashed face hup agen me.Major: may I take a little of it for the Army?No: the Army is not to be bought.We want your soul,
Bill; and we'll take nothing less.Me an me few shillins is
not good enough for you.You're a earl's grendorter, you are.Nothin less than a underd pahnd for you.you could do a great deal of good with
a hundred pounds.Mary travelled to the garden.If you will set this gentleman's mind at ease
by taking his pound, I will give the other ninety-nine [Bill,
astounded by such opulence, instinctively touches his cap].Oh, you're too extravagant, papa.That will
make the standard price to buy anybody who's for sale.I'm not;
and the Army's not.[To Bill] You'll never have another quiet
moment, Bill, until you come round to us.You can't stand out
against your salvation.BILL [sullenly] I cawn't stend aht agen music all wrastlers and
artful tongued women.[He throws the sovereign on the
drum, and sits down on the horse-trough.The coin fascinates
Snobby Price, who takes an early opportunity of dropping his cap
on it].She is dressed as a Salvation
Army Commissioner.She is an earnest looking woman of about 40,
with a caressing, urgent voice, and an appealing manner.[Undershaft comes from
the table, taking his hat off with marked civility].He won't listen to me, because he remembers what
a fool I was when I was a baby.[She leaves them together and chats with Jenny].Have you been shown over the shelter, Mr Undershaft?You know the work we're doing, of course.UNDERSHAFT [very civilly] The whole nation knows it, Mrs Baines.No, Sir: the whole nation does not know it, or we
should not be crippled as we are for want of money to carry our
work through the length and breadth of the land.Let me tell you
that there would have been rioting this winter in London but for
us.I remember 1886, when you rich gentlemen
hardened your hearts against the cry of the poor.They broke the
windows of your clubs in Pall Mall.UNDERSHAFT [gleaming with approval of their method] And the
Mansion House Fund went up next day from thirty thousand pounds
to seventy-nine thousand!Well, won't you help me to get at the people?Let me show you to
this gentleman [Price comes to be inspected].My ole father thought it was the revolution, ma'am.The windows of eaven av bin opened to me.I
know now that the rich man is a sinner like myself.RUMMY [appearing above at the loft door] Snobby Price!Your mother's askin for you at the other gate in Crippses
Lane.She's heard about your confession [Price turns pale].You can go through the shelter, Snobby.PRICE [to Mrs Baines] I couldn't face her now; ma'am, with all
the weight of my sins fresh on me.Tell her she'll find her son
at ome, waitin for her in prayer.[He skulks off through the
gate, incidentally stealing the sovereign on his way out by
picking up his cap from the drum].MRS BAINES [with swimming eyes] You see how we take the anger and
the bitterness against you out of their hearts, Mr Undershaft.It is certainly most convenient and gratifying to all
large employers of labor, Mrs Baines.Barbara: Jenny: I have good news: most wonderful
news.I told
you they would, Jenny, didn't I?BARBARA [moving nearer to the drum] Have we got money enough to
keep the shelter open?I hope we shall have enough to keep all the shelters
open.Lord Saxmundham has promised us five thousand pounds--
BARBARA.If five other gentlemen will give a thousand each to
make it up to ten thousand.UNDERSHAFT [who has pricked up his ears at the peer's name, and
is now watching Barbara curiously] A new creation, my dear.John journeyed to the bathroom.You
have heard of Sir Horace Bodger?He is one of the greatest of our
public benefactors.They
made him a baronet for that.He gave half a million to the funds
of his party: they made him a baron for that.What will they give him for the five thousand?So the five
thousand, I should think, is to save his soul.Mary journeyed to the kitchen.Undershaft, you have some
very rich friends.Can't you help us towards the other five
thousand?We are going to hold a great meeting this afternoon at
the Assembly Hall in the Mile End Road.If I could only announce
that one gentleman had come forward to support Lord Saxmundham,
others would follow.[her eyes fill with tears] oh, think of those poor
people, Mr Undershaft: think of how much it means to them, and
how little to a great man like you.UNDERSHAFT [sardonically gallant] Mrs Baines: you are
irresistible.I can't disappoint you; and I can't deny myself the
satisfaction of making Bodger pay up.You shall have your five
thousand pounds.Oh sir, don't try to be cynical: don't be ashamed of
being a good man.The Lord will bless you abundantly; and our
prayers will be like a strong fortification round you all the
days of your life.[With a touch of caution] You will let me have
the cheque to show at the meeting, won't you?Jenny: go in and
fetch a pen and ink.Do not disturb Miss Hill: I have a fountain pen.He sits at the table and writes the cheque.Cusins
rises to make more room for him.BILL [cynically, aside to Barbara, his voice and accent horribly
debased] Wot prawce Selvytion nah?[Undershaft stops writing: they all turn to her in
surprise].Mrs Baines: are you really going to take this money?MRS BAINES [astonished] Why not, dear?Have you
forgotten that Lord Saxmundham is Bodger the whisky man?Do you
remember how we implored the County Council to stop him from
writing Bodger's Whisky in letters of fire against the sky; so
that the poor drinkruined creatures on the embankment could not
wake up from their snatches of sleep without being reminded of
their deadly thirst by that wicked sky sign?Do you know that the
worst thing I have had to fight here is not the devil, but
Bodger, Bodger, Bodger, with his whisky, his distilleries, and
his tied houses?Are you going to make our shelter another tied
house for him, and ask me to keep it?Dear Barbara: Lord Saxmundham has a soul to be saved
like any of us.If heaven has found the way to make a good use of
his money, are we to set ourselves up against the answer to our
prayers?I know he has a soul to be saved.Let him come down
here; and I'll do my best to help him to his salvation.But he
wants to send his cheque down to buy us, and go on being as
wicked as ever.UNDERSHAFT [with a reasonableness which Cusins alone perceives to
be ironical] My dear Barbara: alcohol is a very necessary
article.It heals the sick--
BARBARA.Well, it assists the doctor: that is perhaps a less
questionable way of putting it.It makes life bearable to
millions of people who could not endure their existence if they
were quite sober.It enables Parliament to do things at eleven at
night that no sane person would do at eleven in the morning.Is
it Bodger's fault that this inestimable gift is deplorably abused
by less than one per cent of the poor?[He turns again to the
table; signs the cheque; and crosses it].Barbara: will there be less drinking or more if all
those poor souls we are saving come to-morrow and find the doors
of our shelters shut in their faces?Lord Saxmundham gives us the
money to stop drinking--to take his own business from him.CUSINS [impishly] Pure self-sacrifice on Bodger's part, clearly![Barbara almost breaks down as Adolpbus, too,
fails her].UNDERSHAFT [tearing out the cheque and pocketing the book as he
rises and goes past Cusins to Mrs Baines] I also, Mrs Baines, may
claim a little disinterestedness.the men and lads torn to pieces with
shrapnel and poisoned with lyddite [Mrs Baines shrinks; but he
goes on remorselessly]!the oceans of blood, not one drop of
which is shed in a really just cause!the
peaceful peasants forced, women and men, to till their fields
under the fire of opposing armies on pain of starvation!the bad
blood of the fierce little cowards at home who egg on others to
fight for the gratification of their national vanity!All this
makes money for me: I am never richer, never busier than when the
papers are full of it.Well, it is your work to preach peace on
earth and goodwill to men.[Mrs Baines's face lights up again].Every convert you make is a vote against war.Yet I give you this money to help you to hasten my own
commercial ruin.CUSINS [mounting the form in an ecstasy of mischief] The
millennium will be inaugurated by the unselfishness of Undershaft
and Bodger.[He takes the drumsticks from his
pockets and flourishes them].MRS BAINES [taking the cheque] The longer I live the more proof I
see that there is an Infinite Goodness that turns everything to
the work of salvation sooner or later.Who would have thought
that any good could have come out of war and drink?And yet their
profits are brought today to the feet of salvation to do its
blessed work.JENNY [running to Mrs Baines and throwing her arms round her] Oh
dear!CUSINS [in a convulsion of irony] Let us seize this unspeakable
moment.Let us march to the great meeting at once.Jenny takes her
tambourine from the drum head].Mr Undershaft: have you ever seen a thousand people
fall on their knees with one impulse and pray?Barbara shall tell them that the Army is saved, and
saved through you.CUSINS [returning impetuously from the shelter with a flag and a
trombone, and coming between Mrs Baines and Undershaft] You shall
carry the flag down the first street, Mrs Baines [he gives her
the flag].Mr Undershaft is a gifted trombonist: he shall intone
an Olympian diapason to the West Ham Salvation March.[Aside to
Undershaft, as he forces the trombone on him] Blow, Machiavelli,
blow.UNDERSHAFT [aside to him, as he takes the trombone] The trumpet
in Zion![Cusins rushes to the drum, which he takes up and puts
on.Undershaft continues, aloud] I will do my best.I could vamp
a bass if I knew the tune.It is a wedding chorus from one of Donizetti's operas;
but we have converted it.We convert everything to good here,
including Bodger."For thee immense
rejoicing--immenso giubilo--immenso giubilo."John travelled to the kitchen.[With drum
obbligato] Rum tum ti tum tum, tum tum ti ta--
BARBARA.What is a broken heart more or less here?Dionysos
Undershaft has descended.Come, Barbara: I must have my dear Major to carry the
flag with me.CUSINS [snatches the tambourine out of Jenny's hand and mutely
offers it to Barbara].BARBARA [coming forward a little as she puts the offer behind her
with a shudder, whilst Cusins recklessly tosses the tambourine
back to Jenny and goes to the gate] I can't come.MRS BAINES [with tears in her eyes] Barbara: do you think
I am wrong to take the money?BARBARA [impulsively going to her and kissing her] No, no:
God help you, dear, you must: you are saving the Army.Go; and
may you have a great meeting![She begins taking off the silver brooch from her
collar].You can't be going to
leave us, Major.BARBARA [quietly] Father: come here.UNDERSHAFT [coming to her] My dear![Seeing that she is going to
pin the badge on his collar, he retreats to the penthouse in some
alarm].BARBARA [following him] Don't be frightened.[She pins the badge
on and steps back towards the table, showing him to the others]
There!It's not much for 5000 pounds is it?Barbara: if you won't come and pray with us, promise
me you will pray for us.BARBARA [almost delirious] I can't bear any more.CUSINS [calling to the procession in the street outside] Off we
go.[He gives the time with his
drum; and the band strikes up the march, which rapidly becomes
more distant as the procession moves briskly away].You're overworked: you will be all
right tomorrow.Now Jenny: step out with
the old flag.[She marches out through the gate
with her flag].[flourishing her tambourine and
marching].UNDERSHAFT [to Cusins, as he marches out past him easing the
slide of his trombone] "My ducats and my daughter"!CUSINS [following him out] Money and gunpowder!My God: why hast thou forsaken
me?She sinks on the form with her face buried in her hands.BILL [taunting] Wot prawce Selvytion nah?Don't you hit her when she's down.She it me wen aw wiz dahn.Waw shouldn't I git a bit o me
own back?BARBARA [raising her head] I didn't take your money, Bill.[She
crosses the yard to the gate and turns her back on the two men to
hide her face from them].BILL [sneering after her] Naow, it warn't enough for you.[Turning to the drum, he misses the money].If you ain't
took it summun else az.Blame me if Jenny Ill
didn't take it arter all!RUMMY [screaming at him from the loft] You lie, you dirty
blackguard!Snobby Price pinched it off the drum wen e took ap iz
cap.I was ap ere all the time |
kitchen | Where is John? | Waw didn't you call thief on him, you
silly old mucker you?To serve you aht for ittin me acrost the face.It's cost
y'pahnd, that az.[Raising a paean of squalid triumph] I done
you.I've ad it aht o y--.[Bill snatches up
Shirley's mug and hurls it at her.She slams the loft door and
vanishes.The mug smashes against the door and falls in
fragments].Mary travelled to the garden.BILL [beginning to chuckle] Tell us, ole man, wot o'clock this
morrun was it wen im as they call Snobby Prawce was sived?BARBARA [turning to him more composedly, and with unspoiled
sweetness] About half past twelve, Bill.And he pinched your
pound at a quarter to two.Well, you can't afford to lose
it.BILL [his voice and accent suddenly improving] Not if I was to
starve for it.You'd sell yourself to the devil for a pint o
beer; ony there ain't no devil to make the offer.BILL [unshamed] So I would, mate, and often av, cheerful.[Approaching Barbara] You wanted my soul, did you?But we've sold it back to you for
ten thousand pounds.No, Peter: it was worth more than money.BILL [salvationproof] It's no good: you cawn't get rahnd me nah.I don't blieve in it; and I've seen today that I was right.[Going] So long, old soupkitchener!Ta, ta, Major Earl's Grendorter![Turning at the gate] Wot prawce Selvytion nah?BARBARA [offering her hand] Goodbye, Bill.BILL [taken aback, half plucks his cap off then shoves it on
again defiantly] Git aht.But thet's aw rawt, you knaow.SHIRLEY [shaking his head] You make too much of him, miss, in
your innocence.BARBARA [going to him] Peter: I'm like you now.Cleaned out, and
lost my job.I'll get you a job, Peter, the youth will have to be
enough for me.I have just enough left
for two teas at Lockharts, a Rowton doss for you, and my tram and
bus home.John journeyed to the bathroom.[He frowns and rises with offended pride.Don't be proud, Peter: it's sharing between friends.And
promise me you'll talk to me and not let me cry.[She draws him
towards the gate].Well, I'm not accustomed to talk to the like of you--
BARBARA [urgently] Yes, yes: you must talk to me.Tell me about
Tom Paine's books and Bradlaugh's lectures.Ah, if you would only read Tom Paine in the proper
spirit, miss!ACT III
Next day after lunch Lady Britomart is writing in the library in
Wilton Crescent.Sarah is reading in the armchair near the
window.Barbara, in ordinary dresss, pale and brooding, is on the
settee.Coming forward between the settee
and the writing table, he starts on seeing Barbara fashionably
attired and in low spirits.Barbara says nothing; but an expression of pain passes over
her face.LADY BRITOMART [warning him in low tones to be careful] Charles!LOMAX [much concerned, sitting down sympathetically on the settee
beside Barbara] I'm awfully sorry, Barbara.You know I helped you
all I could with the concertina and so forth.[Momentously]
Still, I have never shut my eyes to the fact that there is a
certain amount of tosh about the Salvation Army.Now the claims
of the Church of England--
LADY BRITOMART.Speak of something suited
to your mental capacity.But surely the Church of England is suited to all our
capacities.BARBARA [pressing his hand] Thank you for your sympathy, Cholly.LOMAX [rising and going to Sarah] How is my ownest today?I wish you wouldn't tell Cholly to do things, Barbara.Cholly: we're going to the
works at Perivale St.He also starts visibly when he
sees Barbara without her uniform.CUSINS [sitting down beside her] I'm sorry.No: I had rather a good night: in fact, one of the most
remarkable nights I have ever passed.You should have gone to bed after the meeting.Mary journeyed to the kitchen.A most devilish kind of Spanish burgundy, warranted free
from added alcohol: a Temperance burgundy in fact.Its richness
in natural alcohol made any addition superfluous.I have been making a night of it with the
nominal head of this household: that is all.I think it was Dionysos
who made me drunk.[To Barbara] I told you I was possessed.John travelled to the kitchen.I have never before ventured to reproach you, Lady Brit;
but how could you marry the Prince of Darkness?Mary moved to the bedroom.It was much more excusable to marry him than to
get drunk with him.That is a new accomplishment of Andrew's, by
the way.He only sat there and completed the wreck
of my moral basis, the rout of my convictions, the purchase of my
soul.That is what makes him so
dangerous to me.That has nothing to do with it, Dolly.There are larger
loves and diviner dreams than the fireside ones.Unless he can win me on that holier ground he may amuse me for a
while; but he can get no deeper hold, strong as he is.Keep to that; and the end will be right.Now tell me
what happened at the meeting?Mrs Baines almost died of
emotion.The Prince of
Darkness played his trombone like a madman: its brazen roarings
were like the laughter of the damned.They prayed with the most touching sincerity and
gratitude for Bodger, and for the anonymous donor of the 5000
pounds.Your father would not let his name be given.That was rather fine of the old man, you know.Most chaps
would have wanted the advertisement.He said all the charitable institutions would be down on
him like kites on a battle field if he gave his name.He never does a proper
thing without giving an improper reason for it.He convinced me that I have all my life been doing
improper things for proper reasons.Adolphus: now that Barbara has left the Salvation
Army, you had better leave it too.I will not have you playing
that drum in the streets.Your orders are already obeyed, Lady Brit.Dolly: were you ever really in earnest about it?Would
you have joined if you had never seen me?CUSINS [disingenuously] Well--er--well, possibly, as a collector
of religions--
LOMAX [cunningly] Not as a drummer, though, you know.You are a
very clearheaded brainy chap, Cholly; and it must have been
apparent to you that there is a certain amount of tosh about--
LADY BRITOMART.Charles: if you must drivel, drivel like a
grown-up man and not like a schoolboy.LOMAX [out of countenance] Well, drivel is drivel, don't you
know, whatever a man's age.In good society in England, Charles, men drivel
at all ages by repeating silly formulas with an air of wisdom.Schoolboys make their own formulas out of slang, like you.When
they reach your age, and get political private secretaryships and
things of that sort, they drop slang and get their formulas out
of The Spectator or The Times.You had better confine yourself to
The Times.You will find that there is a certain amount of tosh
about The Times; but at least its language is reputable.LOMAX [overwhelmed] You are so awfully strong-minded, Lady Brit--
LADY BRITOMART.If you please, my lady, Mr Undershaft has just drove up
to the door.Shall I announce him, my lady; or is he at home here,
so to speak, my lady?You won't mind my asking, I hope.The occasion is in a manner of speaking new to me.[Sarah and Barbara go
upstairs for their out-of-door wrap].Charles: go and tell
Stephen to come down here in five minutes: you will find him in
the drawing room.Adolphus: tell them to send
round the carriage in about fifteen minutes.MORRISON [at the door] Mr Undershaft.LADY BRITOMART [rising] Don't be sentimental, Andrew.[She sits on the settee: he sits beside her, on her left.She
comes to the point before he has time to breathe].Sarah must
have 800 pounds a year until Charles Lomax comes into his
property.Barbara will need more, and need it permanently,
because Adolphus hasn't any property.UNDERSHAFT [resignedly] Yes, my dear: I will see to it.UNDERSHAFT [rather wearily] Don't, my dear.He has induced us to bring
him into the world; but he chose his parents very incongruously,
I think.I see nothing of myself in him, and less of you.Andrew: Stephen is an excellent son, and a most
steady, capable, highminded young man.YOU are simply trying to
find an excuse for disinheriting him.My dear Biddy: the Undershaft tradition disinherits
him.It would be dishonest of me to leave the cannon foundry to
my son.It would be most unnatural and improper of you to
leave it to anyone else, Andrew.Do you suppose this wicked and
immoral tradition can be kept up for ever?Do you pretend that
Stephen could not carry on the foundry just as well as all the
other sons of the big business houses?Yes: he could learn the office routine without
understanding the business, like all the other sons; and the firm
would go on by its own momentum until the real Undershaft--probably
an Italian or a German--would invent a new method and cut him out.There is nothing that any Italian or German could
do that Stephen could not do.And even you may have good blood
in your veins for all you know.That is another argument in
favor of a foundling.This conversation is part of the Undershaft
tradition, Biddy.Every Undershaft's wife has treated him to it
ever since the house was founded.If
the tradition be ever broken it will be for an abler man than
Stephen.LADY BRITOMART [pouting] Then go away.UNDERSHAFT [deprecatory] Go away!Mary travelled to the garden.If you will do nothing for Stephen,
you are not wanted here.Go to your foundling, whoever he is; and
look after him.The fact is, Biddy--
LADY BRITOMART.I will not call my wife Britomart: it is not good
sense.Seriously, my love, the Undershaft tradition has landed me
in a difficulty.I am getting on in years; and my partner Lazarus
has at last made a stand and insisted that the succession must be
settled one way or the other; and of course he is quite right.You see, I haven't found a fit successor yet.LADY BRITOMART [obstinately] There is Stephen.That's just it: all the foundlings I can find are
exactly like Stephen.I want a man with no relations and no schooling: that
is, a man who would be out of the running altogether if he were
not a strong man.Every blessed foundling
nowadays is snapped up in his infancy by Barnardo homes, or
School Board officers, or Boards of Guardians; and if he shows
the least ability, he is fastened on by schoolmasters; trained to
win scholarships like a racehorse; crammed with secondhand ideas;
drilled and disciplined in docility and what they call good
taste; and lamed for life so that he is fit for nothing but
teaching.If you want to keep the foundry in the family, you had
better find an eligible foundling and marry him to Barbara.And you, my dear, would boil Barbara to
make soup for Stephen.Andrew: this is not a question of our likings and
dislikings: it is a question of duty.It is your duty to make
Stephen your successor.Just as much as it is your duty to submit to your
husband.these tricks of the governing class are of
no use with me.I am one of the governing class myself; and it is
waste of time giving tracts to a missionary.I have the power in
this matter; and I am not to be humbugged into using it for your
purposes.Andrew: you can talk my head off; but you can't
change wrong into right.UNDERSHAFT [disconcerted] It won't stay unless it's pinned [he
fumbles at it with childish grimaces]--
Stephen comes in.STEPHEN [at the door] I beg your pardon [about to retire].[Stephen comes forward to
his mother's writing table.]UNDERSHAFT [not very cordially] Good afternoon.STEPHEN [coldly] Good afternoon.UNDERSHAFT [to Lady Britomart] He knows all about the tradition,
I suppose?[To Stephen] It is what I told you last
night, Stephen.UNDERSHAFT [sulkily] I understand you want to come into the
cannon business.UNDERSHAFT [opening his eyes, greatly eased in mind and manner]
Oh!I have no intention of becoming a man of business in any
sense.I have no capacity for business and no taste for it.UNDERSHAFT [rising] My dear boy: this is an immense relief to me.And I trust it may prove an equally good thing for the country.I
was afraid you would consider yourself disparaged and slighted.[He moves towards Stephen as if to shake hands with him].LADY BRITOMART [rising and interposing] Stephen: I cannot allow
you to throw away an enormous property like this.STEPHEN [stiffly] Mother: there must be an end of treating me as
a child, if you please.[Lady Britomart recoils, deeply wounded
by his tone].Until last night I did not take your attitude
seriously, because I did not think you meant it seriously.But I
find now that you left me in the dark as to matters which you
should have explained to me years ago.Any further discussion of my intentions had better take
place with my father, as between one man and another.[She sits down again; and her eyes fill
with tears].UNDERSHAFT [with grave compassion] You see, my dear, it is only
the big men who can be treated as children.I am sorry, mother, that you have forced me--
UNDERSHAFT [stopping him] Yes, yes, yes, yes: that's all right,
Stephen.She wont interfere with you any more: your independence
is achieved: you have won your latchkey.Don't rub it in; and
above all, don't apologize.Now what about
your future, as between one man and another--I beg your pardon,
Biddy: as between two men and a woman.LADY BRITOMART [who has pulled herself together strongly] I quite
understand, Stephen.By all means go your own way if you feel
strong enough.[Stephen sits down magisterially in the chair at
the writing table with an air of affirming his majority].It is settled that you do not ask for the succession
to the cannon business.I hope it is settled that I repudiate the cannon
business.Don't be so devilishly sulky: it's
boyish.Besides, I owe you a fair
start in life in exchange for disinheriting you.You can't become
prime minister all at once.But his heart was too sore
for him to mind, and even catching slugs was very little consolation to
him."And so Quiver lived all through the summer and the autumn till the
winter came round again, and all this time whenever his wings began to
grow longer, Barnes snipped them short again.I don't think there ever
was a bird so severely punished for discontent and impatience."The winter was a dreadfully cold one; there was frost for such a long
time that nothing seemed alive at all--there was not a worm or a slug or
an insect of any kind in the garden.The little boy and his brothers and
sisters all went away when it began to get so cold, but |
garden | Where is Mary? | "'For there's nothing for him to eat outside, and you might forget to
feed him, you know,' the children said."So Quiver passed the winter safely, though sadly enough.He had plenty
to eat, and no one teased or ill-used him, but he used sometimes almost
to _choke_ with his longing for freedom and for the fresh air--above
all, the air of the sea.Mary travelled to the garden.He did not know how long winter lasted; he was
still a young bird, but he often felt as if he would die if he were kept
a prisoner much longer.But he had to bear it, and he didn't die, and he
grew at last so patient that no one would have thought he was the same
discontented bird.There was a little yard covered over with netting
outside the hen-house, and Quiver could see the sky from there; and the
clouds scudding along when it was a windy day reminded him a little of
the waves he feared he would never see again; and the stupid, peaceful
cocks and hens used to wonder what he found to stare up at for hours
together._They_ thought by far the most interesting thing in life was
to poke about on the ground for the corn that was thrown out to them."At last--at last--came the spring.It came by little bits at a time of
course, and Quiver couldn't understand what made everything feel so
different, and why the sky looked blue again, till one day the
gardener's wife, who managed the poultry, opened the door of the covered
yard and let them all out, and Quiver, being thinner and quicker than
the hens, slipped past her and got out into the garden.She saw him when
he had got there, but she thought it was all right--he might begin his
slug-catching again.And he hurried along the path in his old way,
feeling thankful to be free, but with the longing at his heart, stronger
than ever.It was so long since he had tried to fly in the least that he
had forgotten almost that he had wings, and he just went hurrying along
on his legs.All of a sudden something startled him--a noise in the
trees or something like that--and without thinking what he was doing, he
stretched his wings in the old way.But fancy his surprise; instead of
flopping and lopping about as they had done for so long, ever since
Barnes had cut them, they stood out firm and steady, quite able to
support his weight; he tried them again, and then again, and--it was no
mistake--up he soared, up, up, up, into the clear spring sky, strong and
free and fearless, for his wings had grown again!That was what they had
been doing all the long dull winter; so happiness came to poor Quiver at
last, when he had learnt to wait."John journeyed to the bathroom.asked Fergus breathlessly; "did he find his
father and mother and the others in the old nest among the rocks?""Yes," replied Gratian, after a moment's consideration, "he met some
gulls on his way to the sea, who told him exactly how to go.And he did
find them all at home.You know, generally, bird families don't stay so
long together, but these gulls had been so unhappy about Quiver that
they had fixed to stay close to the old ones till he came back.They
always kept on hoping he would come back.""I am so glad," said Fergus with a sigh of relief."How beautiful it
must have been to feel the sea-wind again, and see the waves dancing in
the sunshine!Do you know, Gratian, I was just a little afraid at the
end that you were going to say that Quiver had grown so good that he
went 'up, up, up,' straight into heaven.I shouldn't have liked that--at
least not till he had lived happily by the sea first.And then," Fergus
began to get a little confused, "I don't know about that._Do_ gulls go
to heaven, mother?She had not said anything yet; she seemed to be
thinking seriously.But now she drew Gratian to her and kissed his
forehead."Thank you, dear boy," she said."I am so glad to have heard one of your
stories."DRAWN TWO WAYS
"When Love wants this, and Pain wants that,
And all our hearts want Tit for Tat."Mary journeyed to the kitchen.MATTHEW BROWNE
Gratian almost danced along the moor path on his way home that evening;
he felt so happy.Never had he loved Fergus and his mother so much--he
could not now understand how he had ever lived without them, and like a
child he did not think of how he ever _could_ do so.He let the future
take care of itself.He rather fancied that White-wings was not far
off, and once or twice he stood still to listen.It was some little time
now since he had heard anything of his friends.But at first nothing met
his ear, and he ran on.Suddenly a breath--a waft rather of soft air blew over his face.John travelled to the kitchen.It was
not White-wings, and most certainly not Gray-wings.Gratian looked up
in surprise--he could hardly expect the soft western sister on such a
cold night."Yes, it is I," she said; "you can hardly believe it, can you?I am only
passing by--no one else will know I have been here.I don't generally
come when you are in such merry spirits--I don't feel that you need me
then.But as I was not so very far off, I thought I'd give you a kiss on
my way.So you told them the sea-gull's story--I am glad they liked it.""Yes," said Gratian, "they did, indeed.But, Green-wings, I'm glad
you've come, for I wanted to ask you, if they ask me if I made it all up
myself, what can I say?I'm so afraid of telling what isn't true; but
you know I couldn't explain about you and the others."You are not meant to do so," replied she quickly."What have you said
when Fergus has asked you about other stories?""I have said I couldn't explain how I knew them--that sometimes they
were a sort of dream.I didn't want to say I had made them all myself,
though I have _partly_ made them--you know I have, Green-wings.""Certainly--it was not I for instance, who told you the very remarkable
fact of natural history that you related at the end of the story?"said
Green-wings with her soft laugh."You may quite take the credit of that.But I won't laugh at you, dear.It is true that they are your stories,
and yet a sort of dream.No one but you could hear them--no one would
say that the whispers of the wind talking language to you, are anything
but the reflection of your own pretty fancies.It will be all right--you
will see.But I must go," and she gave a little sigh."Green-wings, darling, you seem a little sad to-night," said Gratian."I am never very merry, as you know.But I am a little sadder than usual
to-night.I foresee--I foresee sorrows"--and her voice breathed out the
words with such an exquisite plaintiveness that they sounded like the
dying away notes of a dirge."But keep up your heart, my darling, and
trust us all--all four.We only wish your good, though we may show it in
different ways.And wherever I am I can always be with you to comfort
you, if it be but for a moment.No distance can separate us from our
child.""And I am most _your_ child, am I not, dear Green-wings?""I knew you the first, and I think I love you the most.""My darling, good-night," whispered Green-wings, and with a soft flutter
she was gone.There was no mother waiting at the open door for Gratian's return that
evening."It is too cold for standing outside now," he said to himself as he went
in, adding aloud, "Here I am, mother.Her knitting lay on her knee, but
her hands were idle.Mary moved to the bedroom.She looked up as Gratian came in."I am glad you have come, dear," she said; but her voice sounded tired,
and when he was close to her he saw that her face seemed tired also.[Illustration: "Are you not well, mother?"Conyfer looked a little surprised but pleased too.It was new to
her either to think of how she was or to be asked about it.For though
her husband was kind and good, he was plain and even a little rough, as
are the moorland people in general.Gratian had never been rough, but he
had not had the habit of much noticing those about him.Since he had
been so often with Fergus and the lady he had learnt to be more
observant of others, especially of his mother, and more tender in his
manner."I'm only a bit tired, my boy," she said."I'm getting old, I suppose,
and I've worked pretty hard in my way--not to say as if I'd been a poor
man's wife of course, but a farmer's wife has a deal on her mind.""And you do everything so well, mother," said Gratian admiringly."I'm
getting old enough now to see how different things are here from what
they are in many houses.Fergus does so like to hear about the dairy and
the cocks and hens, and about the girdle cakes and all the nice things
you make."Conyfer, well pleased,
"I _am_ glad to hear he's getting so much better.I'm sure his mother
deserves he should--such a sweet lady as she is."For now and then on a Sunday the two boys' mothers had spoken to each
other."Yes, he's _much_ better," said Gratian."To-day he walked six times up
and down the terrace with only my arm.""They weren't afraid to let him out, and it so cold to-day?""It wasn't so very cold--you usedn't to mind the cold, mother," said the
boy."Maybe not so much as now," she replied."I think I'm getting rheumatic
like my father and mother before me, for I can't move about so quick,
and then one feels the cold more.""What makes people have rheumatics?""Folk don't have it so much hereabout," his mother answered; "but I
don't belong to the moor country, you know.My home was some way from
this, down in the valley, where it's milder but much damper--and damp is
worst of anything for rheumatism.Dear me, I remember my old grandmother
a perfect sight with it--all doubled up--you wondered how she got about.But she was a marvel of patience, and so cheery too.I only hope I shall
be like her in that, if I live so long, for it's a sore trial to an
active nature to become so nearly helpless.""Had she nobody to be kind to her when she got so ill?""Oh yes; her children were all good to her, so far as they could be.But
they were all married and about in the world, and busy with their own
families.She was a good deal alone, poor old grandmother.""If you ever got to be like that, I
would never marry or go about in the world.I'd stay at home to be a
comfort to you.I'd run all your messages and do everything I could for
you.Mother, I wish you'd let me be more use to you now already, even
though you're not so ill."Conyfer smiled, but there was more pleasure than amusement in her
smile."I do think being at the Big House has done you good, Gratian.You never
used to notice or think of things so much before you went there," she
said."And you're getting very handy, there's no doubt.Mary travelled to the garden.I hope I shall
never be so laid aside, but I'm sure you'd do your best, my dear.Now I
think I shall go to bed, and you must be off too.Father's out still--he
and Jonas have so much to see to these cold nights, seeing that all the
creatures are warm and sheltered.There's snow not far off, they were
saying.John went back to the bedroom.Gratian's dreams were very grotesque that night.He dreamt that his
mother was turned into a sea-gull, all except her face, which remained
the same.And she could neither walk nor fly, she was so lame and
stiff, or else it was that her wings were cut--he was not sure which.Then he heard Green-wings's voice saying, "She only wants a sight of the
sea to make her well.Gratian, you should take her to the sea; call the
cocks and hens to help you;" and with that he thought he opened his eyes
and found himself on the terrace where he had been walking with Fergus,
and there was a beautiful little carriage drawn by about a dozen cocks
and hens; but when he would have got in, Fergus seemed to push him back,
saying, "Not yet, not yet, your mother first," and Fergus kept looking
for Mrs.Conyfer as if he did not know that she was the poor sea-gull,
standing there looking very funny with the little red knitted shawl on
that Gratian's mother wore when it was a chilly morning.And just then
there came flying down from above, Gratian's four friends.Nobody seemed
to see them but himself, and the cocks and hens began making such a
noise that he felt quite confused."Oh, do take poor mother," he called out--for there was no use trying to
make any one else understand--"Green-wings and all of you, do take poor
mother.""Not without you, Gratian," replied Gray-wings's sharp voice."It's your
place to look after your mother," and as she spoke she stooped towards
him and he felt her cold breath, and with the start it gave him he
awoke.The door of his room had blown open, and the window was rattling, and
the clothes had slipped off on one side.No wonder he had dreamt he was
cold.He covered himself up again and went to sleep.Conyfer was up as usual the next morning.She said she was better,
but she limped a little as she walked, and Gratian did not like to see
it, though she assured him it did not hurt her."I shall take a rest on Sunday," she said, "and then you may tend me a
bit, Gratian.He's as handy as a girl," she added, turning to the farmer
with a smile.Conyfer patted his son's head."That's right," he said; "always be good to your mother.""Winter is really coming," thought Gratian, as he ran to school, and he
glanced up at the sky wondering if snow were at last on the way.It held off however for some little time yet.It was on the third day after this that Gratian on his way home was
rather surprised to meet Mr.Cornelius returning as if from the Farm.The school-children knew that the master had been somewhere, for he had
left the school in charge of one or two of the head boys and his sister,
who lived with him and taught the girls sewing.He smiled and nodded at Gratian, but did not speak, and the boy could
not help wondering if he had been at Four Winds, and why.And as soon as
he got home he ran eagerly in to ask.His father and mother were both together in the kitchen, talking rather
earnestly.His father looked at him as he answered--
"Yes, Gratian," he said, "Mr.He had something
important to talk to us about.After you have had your tea and done your
lessons we will tell you."Daniel went back to the bedroom."I haven't any lessons, father," he replied."We had time to do them
this afternoon when the master was out."So as soon as tea was over he was told what it was."Your friends at the Big House," began the farmer, "are leaving soon.They daren't stay once it gets really cold.You'll be sorry to lose
them, my boy?"Gratian felt a lump rise in his throat, but he tried to answer
che |
kitchen | Where is John? | I knew they'd have to go some
time, but I tried not to think of it.The lady has taught me so many
things I never knew before."She has been very good to you, and she wants to be still more.I don't want to make you vain, Gratian, but
she thinks, and Cornelius thinks--and they should know--that there's the
making of something out of the common in you--that, if you are taught
and trained the right way, you may come to be something a good bit
higher than a plain moorland farmer."Gratian listened with wide-opened eyes."I know," he said breathlessly, "I've felt it sometimes.I'd like to learn--I'd like to----oh, father, I can't say
what I mean.It's as if there were so many thoughts in me that I can't
say," and the child leaned his head on his mother's shoulder and burst
into tears.The farmer and his wife looked at each other.They were simple
unlettered folk, but for all that there was something in them that
"understood.""My boy, my little Gratian," said the mother, in tones that she but
seldom used; "don't cry, my dear.And in a moment or two the child raised his still tearful eyes, and the
farmer went on."It's just because you can't rightly say,
that we want you to learn.No one can tell as yet what your talent may
be, or if perhaps it is not, so to speak, but an everyday one after all.If so, no harm will be done; for you will be in wise hands, and you will
come home again to Four Winds and follow in your father's and
grandfather's steps.But your friends think you should have a better
chance of learning and seeing for yourself than I can give you here.And
the lady has written to her husband, and he's quite willing, and so
it's, so to speak, all settled.You are to go with them when they leave
here, Gratian, and for a year or so you are to have lessons at home with
the little boy, who isn't yet strong enough to go to school.And by the
end of that time it'll be easier to see what you are best fitted for.You'll have teaching of all kinds--music and drawing, and all sorts of
book-learning.It's a handsome offer, there's no denying."And the tears quite disappeared from Gratian's bright eyes, and his
whole face glowed with hope and satisfaction.You shall have no call
to be ashamed of me.It's very good of you and mother to let me go.But
I shall come home again before very long--I shan't be long without
seeing you?""Oh yes--you shall come home after a while of course.Anyway for a
visit, and to see how it will be best to do.We're not going to give you
away altogether, you may be sure," said the farmer with a little attempt
at a joke.She kissed the boy as she rarely kissed
him, and whispered "God bless you, my dear," when she bade him
good-night."I wonder if it's all come of our giving him such an outlandish name!"Mary travelled to the garden.And Gratian fell asleep with his mind in a whirl."I should like to talk about it to my godmothers," was almost his last
thought."I wonder if I shall still see them sometimes when I am far
from Four Winds."John journeyed to the bathroom.And the next morning when he woke, he lay looking round his little room
and thinking how much he liked it, and how happy he had been in it.He
was beginning to realise that no good is all good, no light without
shadow.But there seemed no shadow or drawback of any kind the next day when he
went to the Big House to talk it all over with the lady and Fergus."It is like a story in a book, isn't it, Gratian?""And if you
turn out a great man, then the world will thank mother and me for having
found you.""I don't know about being a _great_ man," he said, "but I want to find
out really what it is I can do best, and then it will be my own fault if
I don't do _something_ good.""Yes, my boy--that is exactly what I want you to feel," said Fergus's
mother.But Gratian was anxious to know what his four friends had to say about
it."I don't think it's very kind of none of you to come to speak to me,"
he said aloud on his way home."I know you're not far off--all of you.I'm sure I heard Gray-wings scolding outside last night."A sound of faint laughter up above him seemed to answer."Oh there you are, Gray-wings, I thought as much," he said, buttoning up
his jacket, for it was very cold.Mary journeyed to the kitchen.But he had hardly spoken before he
heard, nearer than the laughter had been, a soft sigh."I never forget you--remember, Gratian, whenever you want me--whenever
in sor--row.""That's Green-wings," he said to himself."But why should she talk of
sorrow when I'm so happy--happier than ever in my life, I think.She
_is_ of rather too melancholy a nature."He ran on--the door was latched--he hurried into the kitchen.He heard steps moving upstairs and
turned to go there.Halfway up he met Madge, the servant, coming down.Her face looked anxious and distressed through all its rosiness."Oh the poor missis," she said.The pains in
her ankles and knees got so bad--I'm afeared she's going to be really
very ill."John travelled to the kitchen.Gratian ran past her into his mother's room."It's only that my
rheumatism is very bad to-day.I'll be better in the morning, dear.I
must be well with you going away so soon."And when the farmer came in she met him with the same cheerful tone,
though it was evident she was suffering severely.But Gratian sat by her bedside all the evening, doing all he could.He
was grave and silent, for the thought was deep in his heart--
"I can't go away--I can't and I mustn't if mother is going to be really
ill.I'm sure my godmothers wouldn't think I should."LEARNING TO WAIT
"If all the beauty in the earth
And skies and hearts of men
Were gently gathered at its birth,
And loved and born again."MATTHEW BROWNE
But the godmothers seemed to have forgotten him.He went sadly to
bed--and the tears came to his eyes when he remembered how that very
evening he had thought of himself as "happier than he had ever been in
his life."He fell asleep however as one does at nine years old,
whatever troubles one has, and slept soundly for some hours.Then he was
awakened by his door opening and some one coming in.Some one must go
for the doctor--old Jonas is the nearest.I can't leave her--she seems
nearly unconscious.Dress yourself as quick as you can, and tell Jonas
to bring Dr.Gratian was up and dressed almost at once.He felt giddy and miserable,
and yet with a strange feeling over him that he had known it all before.He dared not try to think clearly--he dared not face the terrible fear
at the bottom of his heart.As he hurried off he met Madge at the door; she too had been wakened up."Madge," he said, "if I'm not back quickly, tell father not to be
frightened.I think I'll go all the way for the doctor myself.Mary moved to the bedroom.Mary travelled to the garden.It'll
save time not to go waking old Jonas, and I know he couldn't go as fast
as I can."Madge looked admiringly and yet half-anxiously at the boy.He seemed
such a little fellow to go all that way alone in the dark winter night."I daresay you're right," she said, "and yet I'm half-afraid.Hadn't you
better ask master first?"Don't trouble him about me unless he
asks," and off he ran.He went as quickly as he could find his way--it was not a _very_ dark
night--till he was fairly out on the moorland path.John went back to the bedroom."White-wings, Green-wings--whichever of you hears me, come and help me.Dear Green-wings, you said you always would comfort me.""So she would, surely," said a voice, firmer and colder than hers, but
kindly too, "but at this moment it's more strength than comfort that you
want.Hold out your arms, my boy, there--clasp me tight, don't start at
my cold breath.Why, I can fly with you as if you were a
snow-flake!"And again Gratian felt the strange, whirling, rushing sensation, again
he closed his eyes as if he were falling asleep, and knew no more till
he found himself standing in the village street, a few doors from the
doctor's house, and felt, rather than heard, a clear cold whisper of
"Farewell, Gratian, for the present."And the next morning the neighbours spoke of the sudden northern blast
that had come rushing down from the moors in the night, and wondered it
had not brought the snow with it, little thinking it had brought a
little boy instead!Spense was soon awakened, and long as the time always seems to an
anxious watcher by a sick-bed, Farmer Conyfer could scarcely believe his
ears when he heard the rattle of the dogcart wheels up the steep road,
or his eyes when the doctor, followed by Gratian, came up the staircase."My boy, but you have done bravely!""Doctor, I can't understand how he can have been so quick!"Daniel went back to the bedroom."Go down, my good child, and warm yourself.I saw the sparkle of a nice
fire in the kitchen--it is a bitter night.I will keep my promise to
you; as I go away I'll look in."For Gratian, though not able to tell much of his mother's illness, had
begged the doctor to promise to tell him the truth as to what he thought
of her."I'd rather know, sir, I would indeed, even if it's very bad," he had
said tremblingly.And as he sat by the kitchen fire waiting, it seemed to him that never
till now had he in the least understood how he loved his mother.It was a queer, boisterous night surely.For down the chimney,
well-built and well-seasoned as it was, there came a sudden swirl of
wind.But strangely enough it did not make the fire smoke.And Gratian,
anxious though he was, smiled as a pretty green light seemed suddenly to
dance among the flames.And he was neither surprised nor startled when a
soft voice whispered in his ear:
"I am here, my darling.I _would_ come for one moment, though
White-wings has been trying to blow me away.Keep up your heart--and
don't lose hope.""My boy," he said, as he stood warming his hands at the blaze, "I will
tell you the truth.I am afraid your poor mother is going to be ill for
a good while.But I have good hopes
that she will recover.I see you are
sensible, and handy, I am sure.You must be instead of a daughter to her
for a while--it will be hard on your father, and you may be of great
help."Gratian thanked him, with the tears, which would not now be kept back,
in his eyes.And promising to come again that same day, for it was now
past midnight, the doctor went away.Some days passed--the fever was high at first, and poor Mrs.But almost sooner than the doctor had ventured to hope,
she began to get a little better.She had already come to ask for
news of her little friend's mother, and in the first great anxiety she
said nothing of the plans that had been made.But now she asked to see
the farmer, and talked with him some time downstairs while Gratian
watched by his mother."I am so thankful to be better--so very thankful to be better before you
go, Gratian," said the poor woman."Oh yes, dear mother, we cannot be thankful enough," the boy replied."I
will never forget that night--the night you were so very ill," he said
with a shiver at the thought of it."I shall not be able to write much to you, my child," she said."The
doctor says my hands and joints will be stiff for a good while, but that
I must try not to fret, and to keep an easy mind.I will try--but it
won't be easy for me that's always been so stirring.And I shall miss
you at first, of course.But if you're well and happy--and it would have
been sad and dull for you here with me so different."Just then the farmer's voice came sounding up the stairs."Gratian," it said, "come down here."But first he stooped and kissed the pale face on the
pillow.His father was standing by the kitchen fire when he went in, and the
lady was seated in one of the big old arm-chairs.She looked at him with
fresh love and interest in her sweet blue eyes."Dear Gratian," she said, "Fergus is fretting for you sadly.Your father
has been telling me what a clever sick-nurse you are.And indeed I was
sure of it from your way with Fergus.I am so very, very glad your dear
mother is better.""She will miss him a good deal at first, I'm afraid," said the farmer,
"but I must do my best.It's about your going, my boy--the lady has
already put it off some days for your sake.It's very good of you,
ma'am--_very_ good.I'll get him ready as well as I can.You'll excuse
it if his things are not just in such shipshape order as his mother
would have had them.""Of course, of course," she replied.I
_daren't_ wait longer--the doctor says Fergus must not risk more cold as
yet."But now he turned, first to his father
and then to the lady, and spoke."Father, dear lady," he began, "don't be vexed with me--oh don't.John went back to the kitchen.I've thought about it all these days--I'm--I'm
_dreadfully_ sorry," and here his voice faltered."I wanted to learn and
to understand.Mother
would not get well so quick without me, perhaps she'd never get well at
all.And no learning or seeing things would do me really good if I knew
I wasn't doing right.Father--tell me that you think I'm right."The lady and the farmer looked at each other; there were tears in the
lady's eyes."I'm afraid he is," she said, "but it is only fair to let him quite
understand.It isn't merely putting it off for a while, Gratian," she
went on; "I am afraid it may be for altogether.We are not likely to
come back to this part of the country again, and my husband, though
kind, is a little peculiar.He has a nephew whom he will send for as a
companion to Fergus if you don't come.We should like you better, but it
is our duty to do something for Jack, and Fergus needs a companion, so
it seems only natural to take him instead of sending him away to
school.""Of course," said the farmer, looking at his son."Yes, I understand," said Gratian.If I never learnt anything more--of learning, I mean--if I never left
Four Winds or saw any of the beautiful places and things in the world,
it _shouldn't_ make any difference.I couldn't ever be happy or--or--do
anything really good or great," he went on, blushing a little, "if I
began by doing wrong--could I?"Mary went to the bedroom."He is right," said his father and Fergus's mother together.The person the most difficult to satisfy that he _was_ right was--no,
not Fergus--sorry as he was he loved his own mother too much not to
agree--poor Mrs.Conyfer herself, for whom the sacrifice was to be made.Gratian had to talk to her for ever |