r 
 
 &quot;GIVE ME THE CHANGE, PLEASE.&quot; 
 
THE 
 
 ; 1,000,000 BANK-NOTE 
 
 AND 
 
 OTHER NEW STORIES 
 
 BY 
 
 MARK TWAIN 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 CHARLES L. WEBSTER & COMPANY 
 1893 
 

 
 Copyright, 1893, 
 S. L. CLEMENS. 
 
 (All rights reserved.) 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 THE ^1,000,000 BANK-NOTE, - - 9 
 
 MENTAL TELEGRAPHY, 45 
 
 A CURE FOR THE BLUES, - 77 
 
 THE ENEMY CONQUERED; OR, LOVE TRIUMPHANT, 106 
 
 T ALL KINDS OF SHIPS, - - 154 
 
 PLAYING COURIER, - 184 
 
 THE GERMAN CHICAGO, - - 210 
 
 A PETITION TO THE QUEEN OF ENGLAND, 233 
 
 A MAJESTIC LITERARY FOSSIL, - 241 
 
 167613 
 
UNIVERSITY \ 
 
 KaX 
 
 THE / l.OOO.OOO BANK-NOTE. 
 
 \ 1[ 7 HEN I was twenty-seven years old, I was a 
 * mining-broker s clerk in San Francisco, and 
 an expert in all the details of stock traffic. I was 
 alone in the world, and had nothing to depend upon 
 but my wits and a clean reputation ;\ but these were 
 setting my feet in the road to eventual fortune, and 
 I was content with the prospect. 
 
 My time was my own after the afternoon board, 
 Saturdays, and I was accustomed to put it in on a 
 little sail-boat on the bay. One day I ventured too 
 far, and was carried out to sea. Just at nightfall, 
 when hope was about gone, I was picked up by a 
 small brig which was bound for London. It was a 
 long and stormy voyage, and they made me work 
 my passage without pay, as a common sailor. 
 When I stepped ashore in London my clothes were 
 ragged and shabby, and I had only a dollar in my 
 pocket. This money fed and sheltered me twenty- 
 four hours. During the next twenty-four I went 
 without food and shelter. 
 
 9 
 
IO.\ : : : ^H^ ^000 fOO^. BANK-NOTE. 
 
 ; About ten o clock on^he following morning, seedy 
 and hungry, I was dragging myself along Portland 
 Place, when a child that was passing, towed by a 
 nursemaid, tossed a luscious big pear minus one 
 bite into the gutter. I stopped, of course, and 
 fastened my desiring eye on that muddy treasure. 
 My mouth watered for it, my stomach craved it, my 
 whole being begged for it. But every time I made 
 a move to get it some passing eye detected my 
 purpose, and of course I straightened up, then, and 
 looked indifferent, and pretended that I had n t 
 been thinking about the pear at all. This same 
 thing kept happening and happening, and I could 
 n t get the pear. I was just getting desperate enough 
 to brave all the shame, and to seize it, when a win 
 dow behind me was raised, and a gentleman spoke 
 out of it, saying: / 
 
 &quot; Step in here, please.&quot; 
 
 I was admitted by a gorgeous flunkey, and shown 
 into a sumptuous room where a couple of elderly 
 gentlemen were sitting. They sent away the ser 
 vant, and made me sit down. They had just finished 
 their breakfast, and the sight of the remains of it 
 almost overpowered me. I could hardly keep my 
 wits together in the presence of that food, but as I 
 was not asked to sample it, I had to bear my trouble 
 as best I could.}. 
 
THE 1,000,000 BANK-NOTE. II 
 
 Now, something had been happening there a little 
 before, which I did not know anything about until 
 a good many days afterward, but I will tell you 
 about it now.JlThose two old brothers had been 
 having a pretty hot argument a couple of days be 
 fore, a.nd had ended by agreeing to decide it by a 
 
 V V-yf V) /jtv &amp;gt;{ nxuAX/ n tA/M 
 
 hich is the English way of settling every 
 thing. 
 
 You will remember that the Bank of England 
 once issued two notes of a million pounds each, to 
 be used for a special purpose connected with some 
 public transaction with a foreign country. For 
 some reason or other only one of these had been 
 used and canceled; the other still lay in the vaults 
 of the Bank. Well, the brothers, chatting along, 
 happened to get to wondering what might be the 
 fate of a perfectly honest and intelligent stranger 
 who should be turned adrift in London without a 
 friend, and with no money but that million-pound 
 bank-note, and no way to account for his being in 
 possession of it. Brother A said he would starve to 
 death; Brother B said he would n t. Brother A 
 said he could n t offer it at a bank or anywhere else, 
 because he would be arrested on the spot. So they 
 went on disputing till Brother B said he would bet 
 twenty thousand pounds that the man would live 
 thirty days, any way, on that million, and keep out 
 
12 THE 1,000,000 BANK-NOTE. 
 
 of jail, too. Brother A took him up. Brother B 
 went down to the Bank and bought that notejj Just 
 like an Englishman, you see; pluck to the back 
 bone, frhen he dictated a letter, ^which one of his 
 clerks wrote out in a beautiful round hand, pnd then 
 the two brothers sat at the window a whole day 
 watching for the right man to give it to. 
 
 (They saw many honest faces go by that were not 
 intelligent enough; many that were intelligent, but 
 not honest enough; many that were both, but the 
 possessors were not poor enough, or, if poor enough, 
 were not strangers. There was always a defect, 
 until I came along; buy theyiagreed that I filled the 
 bill all around ;\ so they elected me unanimously, 
 and (there I was, now-, waiting to know why I was 
 called in. They began to ask me questions about 
 myself, and pretty soon they had my story. Finally 
 they told me I would answer their purpose. I said 
 I was sincerely glad, and asked what it was. Then 
 , one of them handed me an envelope, and said I would 
 find the explanation inside. I was going to open 
 it, but he said no; take it to my lodgings, and look 
 it over carefully, and not be hasty or rash. I was 
 puzzled, and wanted to discuss the matter a little 
 further, but they did n t; ; so I took my leave, feeling 
 hurt and insulted to be made the butt of what was 
 apparently some kind of a practical joke, I and yet 
 
 A 
 
THE I,000,OOO BANK-NOTE. 13 
 
 obliged to put up with it, not being in circumstances 
 to resent affronts from rich and strong folk. 
 
 I would have picked up the pear, now, and eaten 
 it before all the world, but it was gone; so I had 
 lost that by this unlucky business, and the thought 
 of it did not soften my feeling toward those men/ 
 As soon as I was out of sight of that house I opened 
 my envelope, and saw that it contained money ! % ; My 
 opinion of those people changed, I can tell you! (l 
 lost not a momentj but shoved note and money into 
 my vest-pocket, jand broke for the nearest cheap 
 eating-house. &quot;-WeH, how I did eat! When at last 
 I could n t hold any more, I took out my money 
 and unfolded it, took one glimpse and nearly fainted. 
 Five millions of dollars! | Why, it made my head 
 swim. 
 
 I must have sat there stunned and blinking at the 
 note as much as a minute before I came rightly to 
 myself again. The first thing I noticed, then, was 
 the landlord. His eye was on the note,(and he was 
 petrified.) He was worshiping, with all his body 
 and soul, but he looked as if he could n t stir hand 
 or foot. I took my cue in a moment, and did the 
 only rational thing there was to do. I reached the 
 note toward him, and said carelessly: 
 
 &quot; Give me the change, please.&quot; 
 
 Then he was restored to his normal condition, 
 
14 THE /,OOO,OOO BANK-NOTE. 
 
 and made a thousand apologies for not being able 
 to break the bill, and I could n t get him to touch 
 it) He wanted to look at it, and keep on looking 
 at it; he could n t seem to get enough of it to quench 
 the thirst of his eye, but he shrank from touching it 
 as if it had been something too sacred for poor com 
 mon clay to handle. I said: 
 
 &amp;lt;&quot; I am sorry if it is an inconvenience, but I must 
 insist. Please change it; I have n t anything else.&quot; 
 But he said that was n t any matter; he was quite 
 willing to let the trifle stand over till another time. 
 (l said I might not be in his neighborhood again for 
 a good while; but he said it was of no consequence, 
 he could wait, and, moreover, I could have anything 
 I wanted, any time I chose, and let the account run 
 as long as I pleased. ) He said he hoped he was n t 
 afraid to trust as rich a gentleman as I was, merely 
 because I was of a merry disposition, and chose to 
 play larks on the public in the matter of dress. ; - By 
 this time another customer was entering, and the 
 landlord hinted to me to put the monster out of 
 sight; then he bowed me all the way to the door, 
 and 1 started straight for that house and those 
 Brothers, to correct the mistake which had been 
 made before the police should hunt me up, and help 
 me do it. I was pretty nervous, in fact pretty badly 
 frightened, though, of course, I was no way in fault; 
 
THE 7,000,OOO BANK-NOTE. 15 
 
 but I knew men well enough to know that when 
 they find they Ve given a tramp a million-pound 
 bill when they thought it was a one-pounder, they 
 are in a frantic rage against him instead of quarrel 
 ing with their own near-sightedness, as they ought. 
 As I approached the house my excitement began 
 to abate, for all was quiet there, which made me 
 feel pretty sure the blunder was not discovered yet. 
 I rang. The..._same servant appeared. I asked for 
 those gentlemen. 
 
 &quot; They are gone.&quot; This in the lofty, cold way of 
 that fellow s tribe. 
 
 &quot; Gone ? Gone where ?&quot; 
 
 &quot; On a journey.&quot; 
 
 &quot;But whereabouts ?&quot; 
 
 &quot;To the Continent, I think.&quot; 
 
 &quot;The Continent?&quot; 
 
 &quot;Yes, sir.&quot; 
 
 &quot; Which way by what route ? &quot; 
 
 &quot; I can t say, sir.&quot; 
 
 &quot; When will they be back ? &quot; 
 
 &quot; In a month, they said.&quot; 
 
 &quot;A month! Oh, this is awful! Give me some 
 sort of idea of how to get a word to them. It s of 
 the last importance.&quot; 
 
 &quot; I can t, indeed. I Ve no idea where they Ve 
 gone, sir.&quot; 
 
1 6 THE 1,000,000 BANK-NOTE. 
 
 &amp;gt;( Then I must see some member of the family.&quot; 
 
 &quot;Family s away too; been abroad months in 
 Egypt and India, I think.&quot; 
 
 &quot; Man, there s been an immense mistake made. 
 They 11 be back before night. Will you tell them 
 I Ve been here, and that I will keep coming till it s 
 all made right, and they need n t be afraid ? &quot; 
 
 &quot; I 11 tell them, if they come back, but I am not 
 expecting them. They said you would be here in 
 an hour to make inquiries, but I must tell you it s 
 all right, they 11 be here on time and expect you.&quot; 
 
 So I had to give it up and go a way. ^ What a rid 
 dle it all was ! I was like to lose my mind. They 
 would be here &quot; on time.&quot; (What could that mean ? 
 Oh, the letter would explain, maybe. I had forgot 
 ten the letter; I got it out and read it. This is what 
 it said: 
 
 You are an intelligent and honest man, as one may see by 
 your face. We conceive you to be poor and a stranger. In 
 closed you will find a sum of money. It is lent to you for 
 thirty days, without interest. Report at this house at the 
 end of that time. I have a bet on you. If I win it you shall 
 have any situation that is in my gift any, that is, that you 
 shall be able to prove yourself familiar with and competent 
 to fill. 
 
 No signature, no address, no date. 
 Well, here was a coil to be in ! You are posted 
 on what had preceded all this, but I was not. It 
 
THE 1,000,000 BANK-NOTE. IJ 
 
 was just a deep, dark puzzle to me. I had n t the 
 least idea what the game was, nor whether harm 
 was meant me or a kindness. I went into a park, 
 and sat down to try to think it out, and to consider 
 what I had best do. 
 
 At the end of an hour, my reasonings had crystal 
 lized into this verdict. 
 
 Maybe those men mean me well, maybe they 
 mean me ill; no way to decide that let it go. 
 They ve got a game, or a scheme, or an experi 
 ment, of some kind on hand; no way to determine 
 what it is let it go. There s a bet on me;Lno way 
 to find out what it is let it go. That disposes of 
 the indeterminable quantities; the remainder of the 
 matter is tangible, solid, and may be classed and 
 labeled with certainty. If I ask the Bank of Eng 
 land to place this bill to the credit of the man it be 
 longs to, they 11 do it, for they know him, although 
 I don t; but they will ask me how I came in posses 
 sion of it, and if I tell the truth, they 11 put me in 
 the asylum, naturally, and a lie will land me in jail. 
 The same result would follow if I tried to bank the 
 bill anywhere or to borrow money on it.) I have 
 got to carry this immense burden aroundimtil those 
 
 r* 
 
 men come back, whether I want to or not. It is 
 useless to me, as useless as a handful of ashes, and 
 yet I must : take care of it, and watch over it)( while 
 
1 8 THE 1,000,000 BANK-NOTE. 
 
 I beg my living. I could rCtgive it away, if I should 
 try, for neither honest citizen nor highwayman would 
 accept it or meddle with it for anything. Those 
 brothers are safe. Even if I lose their bill, or burn 
 it, they are still safe, because they can stop payment, 
 and the Bank will make them whole ;\ but meantime, 
 I Ve got to do a month s suffering without wages or 
 profit unless I help win that bet, whatever it may 
 be, and get that situation that I am promised. I 
 shotdd like to get that; men of their sort have sit 
 uations in their gift that are worth having. 
 
 I got to thinking a good deal about that situation. 
 My hopes began to rise high. (Without doubt the 
 salary would be large. It would begin in a month; 
 after that I should be all right. Pretty soon I was 
 feeling first rate. By this time I was tramping the 
 streets again. The sight of a tailor-shop gave me 
 a sharp longing to. shed my rags, and to clothe my 
 self decently once more. Could I afford it ? No; I 
 had nothing in the world but a million pounds. So 
 I forced myself to go on by. But soon I was drift 
 ing back again. The temptation persecuted me 
 cruelly. I must have passed that shop back and 
 forth six times during that manful struggle. At last 
 I gave in; I had to. I asked if they had a misfit 
 suit that had been thrown on their hands. The fel 
 low I spoke to nodded his head toward another fel- 
 
THE I,OOO,OOO BANK-NOTE. \(j 
 
 low, and gave me no answer. I went to the indicat 
 ed fellow, and he indicated another fellow with his 
 head, and no words. I went to him, and he said: 
 
 &quot; Tend to you presently.&quot; 
 
 I waited till he was done with what he was at, 
 then he took me into a back room, and overhauled 
 a pile of rejected suits, and selected the rattiest one 
 for me. I put it on. It did n t fit, and was n t in 
 any way attractive, but it was new, and I was anx 
 ious to have it; so I did n t find any fault, but said 
 with some diffidence: 
 
 &quot;It would be an accommodation to me if you 
 could wait some days for the money. I have n t 
 any small change about me.&quot; 
 
 The fellow worked up a most sarcastic expression 
 of countenance, and said: 
 
 &quot; Oh, you have n t ? Well, of course, I did n t 
 expect it. I d only expect gentlemen like you to 
 carry large change.&quot; 
 
 I was nettled, and said: 
 
 &quot; My friend, you should n t judge a stranger al 
 ways by the clothes he wears. I am quite able to 
 pay for this suit; I simply did n t wish to put you to 
 the trouble of changing a large note.&quot; 
 
 He modified his style a little at that, and said, 
 though still with something of an air: 
 
 &quot; I did n t mean any particular harm,\but as long 
 
2O THE 1,000,000 BANK-NOTE. 
 
 as rebukes are going, I might say it was n t quite 
 your affair to jump to the conclusion that we could 
 n t change any note that you might happen to be 
 carrying around. On the contrary, we can 
 
 I handed the note to him, and said: 
 
 &quot; Oh, very well; I apologize.&quot; 
 
 4He received it with a smile, one of those large 
 
 smiles which goes all around over, and has folds in 
 
 ? * u 
 
 it, and wrinkles, and spirals, and looks like the 
 place where you have thrown a brick in a pond; 
 and then in the act of his taking a glimpse of the 
 bill this smile froze solid, and turned yellow, and 
 looked like those wavy, wormy spreads of lava 
 which you find hardened on little levels on the side 
 of Vesuvius. I never before saw a smile caught 
 like that, and perpetuated. The man stood there 
 holding the bill, and looking like that, and the pro 
 prietor hustled up to see what was the matter, and 
 said briskly: 
 
 &quot;Well, what s up ? what s the trouble ? what s 
 wanting ? &quot; 
 
 I said: &quot;There is n t any trouble. I m waiting for 
 my change.&quot; 
 
 &quot; Come, come; get him his change, Tod; get him 
 his change.&quot; 
 
 Tod retorted: &quot;Get him his change! It s easy 
 to say, sir; but look at the bill yourself.&quot; 
 
THE 1,000, OOO BANK-NOTE. 21 
 
 The proprietor took a look, gave a low, eloquent 
 whistle, then made a dive for the pile of rejected 
 clothing, and began to snatch it this way and that, 
 talking all the time excitedly, and as if to himself: 
 
 &quot;Sell an eccentric millionaire such an unspeak 
 able suit as that! Tod s a fool a born fool. Al 
 ways doing something like this. Drives every mil 
 lionaire away from this place, because he can t tell 
 a millionaire from a tramp, and never could. Ah, 
 here s the thing I m after. Please get those things 
 off, sir, and throw them in the fire. Do me the favor 
 to put on this shirt and this suit; it s just the thing, 
 the very thing-Vplain, rich, modest, and just ducally 
 nobby; made to order for a foreign prince you may 
 know him, sir, his Serene Highness the Hospodar 
 of Halifax; had to leave it with us and take a mourn 
 ing-suit because his mother was going to die which 
 she did n t. But that s all right; we can t always 
 have things the way we that is, the way they 
 there! trousers all right, they fit you to a charm, sir; 
 now the waistcoat; aha, right again! now the coat 
 lord! look at that, now! Perfect the whole thing! 
 I never saw such a triumph in all my experience.&quot; 
 
 I expressed my satisfaction. 
 
 &quot; Quite right, sir, quite right; ,it 11 do for a make 
 shift, I m bound to say. J3ut wait till you see what 
 we 11 get up for you on your own measure. Come, 
 
22 THE I,OOO,OOO BANK-NOTE. 
 
 Tod, book and pen; get at it. Length of leg, 32 &quot; 
 and so on. Before I could get in a word he had 
 measured me, and was giving orders for dress-suits, 
 morning suits, shirts, and all sorts of things. When 
 I got a chance I said: 
 
 &quot; But, my dear sir, I can t give these orders, unless 
 you can wait indefinitely, or change the bill.&quot; 
 
 &quot;Indefinitely! It s a weak word, sir, a weak 
 word. Eternally that s the word, sir. Tod, rush 
 these things through, and send them to the gentle 
 man s address without any waste of time. Let the 
 minor customers wait. Set down the gentleman s 
 address and &quot; 
 
 &quot; I m changing my quarters. I will drop in and 
 leave the new address.&quot; 
 
 &quot; Quite right, sir, quite right. One moment let 
 me show you out, sir. There good day, sir, good 
 day.&quot; 
 
 / Well, don t you see what was bound to happen ? 
 I drifted naturally into buying whatever I wanted, 
 and asking for change. Within a week I was sump 
 tuously equipped with all needful comforts and lux 
 uries, and was housed in an expensive private hotel 
 in Hanover Square. \I took my dinners there, but 
 for breakfast I stuck by Harris s humble feeding- 
 house, where I had got my first meal on my million- 
 pound bill. I was the making of Harris. The fact 
 
THE I,OOO,OOO BANK-NOTE. 2$ 
 
 had gone all abroad that the foreign crank who car 
 ried million-pound bills in his vest-pocket was the 
 patron saint of the place. That was enough. From 
 being a poor, struggling, little hand-to-mouth enter 
 prise, it had become celebrated, and overcrowded 
 with customers. Harris was so grateful that he 
 forced loans upon me, and would not be denied; 
 and so, pauper as I was, I had money to spend, and 
 was living like the rich and the great. VI judged that 
 there was going to be a crash by and by, but I was 
 in, now, and must swim across or drown. f You see 
 there was just that element of impending disaster to 
 give a serious side, a sober side, yes, a tragic side, 
 to a state of things which would otherwise have 
 been purely ridiculous. In the night, in the dark, 
 the tragedy part was always to the front, and always 
 warning, always threatening; and so I moaned and 
 tossed, and sleep was hard to find. But in the cheer 
 ful daylight the tragedy element faded out and dis 
 appeared, and I walked on air, and was happy to 
 giddiness, to intoxication, you may say. 
 
 And it was natural; foAl had become one of the 
 notorieties of the metropolis of the world/ and it 
 turned my head, not just a little, but a good deal. 
 You could not take up a newspaper) English, 
 Scotch, or Irish, .without finding in it one or more 
 references to the &quot;vest-pocket million-pounder&quot; 
 
24 THE I t OOO,OOO BANK-NOTE. 
 
 and his latest doings and sayings, At first, in these 
 mentions, I was at the bottom of the personal-gos 
 sip column; next, I was listed above the knights, 
 next above the baronets, next above the barons, 
 and so on, and so on, climbing steadily, as my noto 
 riety augmented, until I reached the highest altitude 
 possible, and there I remained, taking precedence 
 of all dukes not royal, and of all ecclesiastics except 
 the primate of all England. But mind, this was not 
 fame; as yet I had achieved only notoriety. Then 
 came the climaxing stroke fthe accolade, so to speak 
 which in a single instance transmuted the perish 
 able dross of notoriety into the enduring gold of 
 fame: &quot; Punch &quot; caricatured me! Yes, I was a made 
 man, now; my place was established.! I might be 
 joked about still, but reverently, not hilariously, not 
 rudely; I could be smiled at, but not laughed at. 
 The time for that had gone by. &quot; Punch&quot; pictured 
 me all a-flutter with rags, dickering with a beef-eater 
 for the Tower of London. Well, you can imagine 
 how it was with a young fellow who had never been 
 taken notice of before, and now all of a sudden could 
 n t say a thing that was n t taken up and repeated 
 every where jjcould n t stir abroad without constant 
 ly overhearing the remark flying from lip to lip, 
 &quot;There he goes; that s him!&quot; could n t take his 
 breakfast without a crowd to look on; could n t ap- 
 
THE 1,000,000 BANK-NOTE. 25 
 
 pear in an opera-box without concentrating there 
 the fire of a thousand lorgnettes. Why, I just swam 
 in glory all day long| that is the amount of it. 
 
 You know, I even kept my old suit of rags, and 
 every now and then appeared in them, so as to have 
 the old pleasure of buying trifles, and being insulted, 
 and then shooting the scoffer dead with the million- 
 pound bill. But I could n t keep that up. The 
 illustrated papers made the outfit so familiar that 
 when I went out in it I was at once recognized and 
 followed by a crowd, and if I attempted a purchase 
 the man would offer me his whole shop on credit 
 before I could pull my note on him. 
 
 About the tenth day of my fame I went to fulfill 
 my duty to my flag by paying my respects to the 
 American minister. (^He received me with the en 
 thusiasm proper in my case, upbraided me for being 
 so tardy in my duty, and said that there was only 
 one way to get his forgiveness, and that was to take 
 the seat at his dinner-party that night made vacant 
 by the illness of one of his guests. I said I would, 
 and we got to talking. It turned out that he and 
 my father had been schoolmates in boyhood, Yale 
 students together later, and always warm friends up 
 to my father s death. So; then he required me to 
 put in at his house all the odd time I might have to 
 spare, and I was very willing, of course. 
 
26 THE ^f, 000, 000 BANK-NOTE. 
 
 In fact I was more than willing; I was glad. When 
 the crash should come, he might somehow be able 
 to save me from total destruction; I didn t know 
 how, but he might think of a way, maybe. I could 
 n t venture to unbosom myself to him at this late 
 date, a thing which I would have been quick to do 
 in the beginning of this awful career of mine in Lon 
 don. No, I couldn t venture it now; I was in too 
 deep; that is, too deep for me to be risking revela 
 tions to so new a friend, though not clear beyond 
 my depth, as / looked at it. Because, you see, with 
 all my borrowing, I was carefully keeping within 
 my means I mean within my salary. Of course I 
 could n t know what my salary was going to be, but 
 I had a good enough basis for an estimate in the 
 fact that, if I won the bet, I was to have choice of 
 any situation in that rich old gentleman s gift pro 
 vided I was competent and I should certainly prove 
 competent; I had n t any doubt about that. And 
 as to the bet, I was n t worrying about that; I had 
 always been lucky. Now my estimate of the salary 
 was six hundred to a thousand a year; say, six hun 
 dred for the first year, and so on up year by year, 
 till I struck the upper figure by proved merit. At 
 present I was only in debt for my first year s salary. 
 Everybody had been trying to lend me money, but 
 I had fought off the most of them on one pretext or 
 
THE I,OOO,OOO BANK-NOTE. 2j 
 
 another; so this indebtedness represented only 300 
 borrowed money, the other 300 represented my 
 keep and my purchases. I believed my second year s 
 salary would carry me through the rest of the month 
 if I went on being cautious and economical, and I 
 intended to look sharply out for that. My month 
 ended, my employer back from his journey, I should 
 be all right once more, for I should at once divide 
 the two years salary among my creditors by assign 
 ment, and get right down to my work.J 
 
 It was a lovely dinner-party of fourteen. The 
 Duke and Duchess of Shoreditch, and their daughter 
 the Lady Anne - Grace - Eleanor - Celeste - and - so- 
 forth-and-so-forth-de-Bohun, the Earl and Countess 
 of Newgate, Viscount Cheapside, Lord and Lady 
 Blatherskite, some untitled people of both sexes, 
 the minister and his wife and daughter, and his 
 daughter s visiting friend, an English girl of twenty- 
 two, named Portia Langham, whom I fell in love 
 with in two minutes, and she with me I could see 
 it without glasses. There was still another guest, 
 an American but I am a little ahead of my story. 
 While the people were still in the drawing-room, 
 whetting up for dinner, and coldly inspecting the 
 late comers,}the servant announced: 
 
 &quot; Mr. Lloyd Hastings.&quot; 
 
 The moment the usual civilities were over, Hast- 
 
28 THE I,OOO,OOO BANK-NOTE 
 
 ings caught sight of me, and came straight with 
 cordially outstretched hand ;{ then stopped short 
 when about to shake, and said with an embarrassed 
 look: 
 
 &quot; I beg your pardon, sir, I thought I knew you.&quot; 
 
 &quot; Why, you do know me, old fellow.&quot; 
 
 &quot;No! Are you the the &quot; 
 
 &quot; Vest-pocket monster ? I am, indeed. Don t be 
 afraid to call me by my nickname ; I m used to it.&quot; 
 
 &quot; Well, well, well, this is a surprise. Once or twice 
 I Ve seen your own name coupled with the nickname, 
 but jit never occurred to me that you could be the 
 Henry Adams referred to. Why, it is n t six months 
 since you were clerking away for Blake Hopkins in 
 Frisco on a salary, and sitting up nights on an ex 
 tra allowance, helping me arrange and verify the 
 Gould and Curry Extension papers and statistics. 
 I ((The idea of your being in London, and a vast mil 
 lionaire, and a colossal celebrity ! Why, it s the 
 Arabian Nights come again. Man, I can t take it 
 in at all; can t realize it; give me time to settle the 
 whirl in my head.&quot; 
 
 &quot; The fact is, Lloyd, you are no worse off than I 
 am. I can t realize it myself.&quot; 
 
 &quot;Dear me, it is stunning, now is n t it ? Why, 
 it s just three months to-day since we went to the 
 Miners restaurant &quot; 
 
THE 1,000,000 BANK-NOTE. 2 9 
 
 &quot;No; the What Cheer,&quot; 
 
 &quot; Right, it was the What Cheer; went there at 
 two in the morning, and had a chop and coffee after 
 a hard six hours grind over those Extension papers, 
 and I tried to persuade you to come to London with 
 me, and offered to get leave of absence for you and 
 pay all your expenses, and give you something over 
 if I succeeded in making the sale; and you would 
 not listen to me, said I would n t succeed, and you 
 could n t afford to lose the run of business and be 
 no end of time getting the hang of things again 
 when you got back home. And yet here you are. 
 How odd it all is ! How did you happen to come, 
 and whatever did give you this incredible start ? &quot; 
 
 &quot;Oh, just an accident. It s a long storyj a 
 romance, a body may say. I 11 tell you all about 
 it, but not now.&quot; 
 
 &quot;When?&quot; 
 
 &quot; The end of this month.&quot; 
 
 &quot; That s more than a fortnight yet. It s too much 
 of a strain on a person s curiosity. Make it a week/ 
 
 &quot; I can t. You 11 know why, by and by. But 
 how s the trade getting along ? &quot; 
 
 His cheerfulness vanished like a breath/ and he 
 said with a sigh : 
 
 &quot; You were a true prophet^ Hal^a true prophet. I 
 wish I had n t come. I don t want to talk about it.&quot; 
 
3O THE 1,000,000 BANK-NOTE. 
 
 &quot; But you must. You must come and stop with 
 me to-night, when we leave here, and tell me all 
 about it.&quot; 
 
 &quot;Oh, may I? Are you in earnest?&quot; and the 
 water showed in his eyes. 
 
 &quot; Yes; I want to hear the whole story, every word.&quot;] 
 
 &quot; I m so grateful ! Just to find a human interest 
 once more, in some voice and in some eye, in me 
 and affairs of mine, after what I Ve been through 
 here lord ! I could go down on my knees for it ! &quot; 
 
 He gripped my hand hard, and braced up, and 
 was all right and lively after that for the dinner 
 which did n t come off. No; the usual thing hap 
 pened, the thing that is always happening under 
 that vicious and aggravating English system the 
 matter of precedence could n t be settled, and so 
 there was no dinner. Englishmen always eat din 
 ner before they go out to dinner, because they know 
 the risks they are running; but nobody ever warns 
 the stranger, and so he walks placidly into the trap. 
 Of course nobody was hurt this time, because we had 
 all been to dinner, none of us being novices except 
 Hastings, and he having been informed by the min 
 ister at the time that he invited him that in deference 
 to the English custom he had not provided any din 
 ner.! Everybody took a lady and processioned down 
 to the dining-room, because it is usual to go through 
 
THE /, OOO,OOO BANK-NOTE 31 
 
 the motions; but there the dispute began. The 
 Duke of Shoreditch wanted to take precedence, and 
 sit at the head of the table, holding that he outrank 
 ed a minister who represented merely a nation and 
 not a monarch; but I stood for my rights, and re 
 fused to yield. In the gossip column I ranked all 
 dukes not royal, and said so, and claimed pre 
 cedence of this one. It could n t be settled, of 
 course\struggle as we might and did, he finally (and 
 injudiciously) trying to play birth and antiquity, 
 and I &quot; seeing &quot; his Conqueror and &quot; raising &quot; him 
 with Adam, whose direct posterity I was, as shown 
 by my name, while he was of a collateral branch, as 
 shown by his, and by his recent Norman origin; \ 
 so we all processioned back to the drawing-room 
 again and had a perpendicular lunch plate of sar 
 dines and a strawberry, and you group yourself and 
 stand up and eat it. Here the religion of precedence 
 is not so strenuous; the two persons of highest rank 
 chuck up a shilling, the one that wins has first go at 
 his strawberry, and the loser gets the shilling. The 
 next two chuck up, then the next two, and so on. 
 After refreshment, tables were brought, and we all 
 played cribbage, sixpence a game. The English 
 never play any game for amusement. If they can t 
 make something or lose something, they don t 
 care which, they won t play. 
 
32 THE I,OOO,OOO BANK-NOTE. 
 
 We had a lovely time; certainly two of us had, 
 Miss Langham and I. I was so bewitched with her 
 that I could n t count my hands if they went above 
 a double sequence; and when I struck home I never 
 discovered it, and started up the outside row again, 
 and would have lost the game every time, only the 
 girl did the same, she being in just my condition, 
 you see; and consequently neither of us ever got 
 out, or cared to wonder why we did n t; we only 
 just knew we were happy, and did n t wish to know 
 anything else, and did n t want to be interrupted. 
 And -I told her I did indeed told her I loved her; 
 and she well, she blushed till her hair turned red, 
 but she liked it ; she said she did. Oh, there was 
 never such an evening ! Every time I pegged I 
 put on a postscript; every time she pegged she ac 
 knowledged receipt of it, counting the hands the 
 same. Why, I could n t even say &quot; Two for his 
 heels&quot; without adding, &quot; My, how sweet you do 
 look ! &quot; and she would say, &quot; Fifteen two, fifteen 
 four, fifteen six, and a pair are eight, and eight are 
 sixteen do you think so ? &quot; peeping out aslant 
 from under her lashes, you know, so sweet and cun 
 ning. Oh, it was just too-ioo \ 
 
 Well, J was perfectly honest and square with her; 
 told her I had n t a cent in the world but just the 
 million-pound note she d heard so much talk about, 
 
THE 1,000,000 BANK-NOTE. 33 
 
 and // did n t belong to me; and that started her 
 curiosity, and then I talked low, and told her the 
 whole history right from the start, and it nearly 
 killed her, laughing. What in the nation she could 
 find to laugh about, /could n t see butf there it was; 
 every half minute some new detail would fetch her, 
 and I would have to stop as much as a minute and a 
 half to give her a chance to settle down again. 
 Why, she laughed herself lame, she did indeed; I 
 never saw anything like it. I mean I never saw a 
 painful story a story of a person s troubles and 
 worries and fears produce just that kind of effect 
 before. So I loved her all the more, seeing she 
 could be so cheerful when there was n t anything to 
 be cheerful about; for I might soon need that kind 
 of wife, you know, the way things looked. Of 
 course I told her we should have to wait a couple 
 of years, till I could catch up on my salary; but 
 she did n t mind that^only she hoped I would be 
 as careful as possible in the matter of expenses, 
 and not let them run the least risk of trenching 
 on our third year s pay. Then she began to get 
 a little worried, and wondered if we were making 
 any mistake, and starting the salary on a higher 
 figure for the first year than I would get. This 
 was good sense, and it made me feel a little less 
 confident than I had been feeling before; but it 
 
34 THE /,000,000 BANK-NOTE. 
 
 \ 
 
 gave me a good business idea, and I brought it 
 frankly out./ 
 
 &quot;Portia, dear, would you mind going with me 
 that day, when I confront those old gentlemen ? &quot; 
 
 She shrank a little, but said: 
 
 &quot; N-o; if my being with you would help hearten 
 you. But would it be quite proper, do you think?&quot; 
 
 &quot; No, I don t know that it would; in fact I m 
 afraid it would n t: but you see, there s so much de 
 pendent upon it that 
 
 &quot; Then I 11 go anyway, proper or improper,&quot; she 
 said, with a beautiful and generous enthusiasm. 
 &quot;Oh, I shall be so happy to think I m helping.&quot; 
 
 &quot; Helping, dear ? Why, you 11 be doing it all. 
 You re so beautiful and so lovely and so winning, 
 that, with you there I can pile our salary up till I 
 break those good old fellows, and they 11 never 
 have the heart to struggle.&quot; 
 
 Sho ! you should have seen the rich blood mount, 
 and her happy eyes shine ! 
 
 &quot;You wicked flatterer! There is n t a word of 
 truth in what you say, but still I 11 go with you. 
 Maybe it will teach you not to expect other people 
 to look with your eyes.&quot; 
 
 Were my doubts dissipated ? Was my confidence 
 restored ? You may judge by this fact: privately I 
 raised my salary to twelve hundred the first year on 
 
THE 1,000,000 BANK-NOTE. 35 
 
 the spot. But I did n t tell her; I saved it for a sur 
 prise. 
 
 All the way home I was in the clouds, Hastings talk 
 ing, I not hearing a word. When he and I entered 
 my parlor, he brought me to myself with his fervent 
 appreciations of my manifold comforts and luxuries. 
 
 &quot; Let me just stand here a little and look my fill ! 
 Dear me, it s a palace; it s just a palace! And in it 
 everything a body could desire, including cozy coal 
 fire and supper standing ready. Henry, it does n t 
 merely make me realize how rich you are; it makes 
 me realize, to the bone, to the marrow, how poor I 
 am how poor I am, and how miserable, how de 
 feated, routed, annihilated ! &quot; 
 
 Plague take it ! this language gave me the cold 
 shudders. It scared me broad awake, and made me 
 comprehend that I was standing on a half-inch 
 crust, with a crater underneath, /did n t know I 
 had been dreaming that is, I had n t been allow 
 ing myself to know it for a while back; but now 
 oh, dear ! Deep in debt, not a cent in the world, a 
 lovely girl s happiness or woe in my hands, and 
 nothing in front of me but a salary which might 
 never oh, would never materialize ! Oh, oh, oh, 
 I am ruined past hope; nothing can save me ! 
 
 &quot;Henry, the mere unconsidered drippings of your 
 daily income would 
 
36 THE 1,000,000 BANK-NOTE. 
 
 &quot; Oh, my daily income ! Here, down with this 
 hot Scotch, and cheer up your soul. Here s with 
 you ! Or, no you re hungry; sit down and &quot; 
 
 &quot;Not a bite for me; I m past it. I can t eat, 
 these days; but I 11 drink with you till I drop. 
 Come ! &quot; 
 
 &quot; Barrel for barrel, I m with you ! Ready ? Here 
 we go ! Now, then, Lloyd, unreel your story while 
 I brew.&quot; 
 
 MJnreel it ? What, again ? &quot; 
 
 &quot; Again ? What do you mean by that ? &quot; 
 
 &quot;Why, I mean do you want to hear it over 
 again ? &quot; 
 
 &quot; Do I want to hear it over again ? This is a puz 
 zler. Wait; don t take any more of that liquid. 
 You don t need it.&quot; 
 
 &quot; Look here, Henry, you alarm me. Did n t I 
 tell you the whole story on the way here ? &quot; 
 
 &quot;You?&quot; 
 
 &quot;Yes, I.&quot; 
 
 &quot; I 11 be hanged if I heard a word of it.&quot; 
 
 &quot; Henry, this is a serious thing. It troubles me. 
 What did you take up yonder at the minister s ? &quot; 
 
 Then it all flashed on me, and I owned up, like a 
 man. 
 
 &quot; I took the dearest girl in this world prisoner!&quot; 
 
 So then he came with a rush, and we shook, and 
 
 
THE 7,000,OOO BANK-NOTE. 37 
 
 shook, and shook till our hands ached; and he did 
 n t blame me for not having heard a word of a story 
 which had lasted while we walked three miles.) He 
 just sat down then, like the patient, good fellow he 
 was,)and told it all lover again. Synopsized, it 
 amounted to this: He had come to England with 
 what he thought was a grand opportunity; he had 
 an &quot; option&quot; to sell the Gould and Curry Extension 
 for the &quot; locators&quot; of it, and keep all he could get 
 over a million dollars. He had worked hard, had 
 pulled every wire he knew of, had left no honest ex 
 pedient untried, had spent nearly all the money he 
 had in the world, had not been able to get a solitary 
 capitalist to listen to him, and his option would run 
 out at the end of the month. In a word, he was 
 ruined. Then he jumped upfand cried out : 
 
 &quot; Henry, you can save me ! ^You can save me) and 
 you re the only man in the universe that can. Will 
 you do it ? Wont you do it ? &quot; 
 
 &quot; Tell me how. Speak out, my boy.&quot; 
 
 &quot; Give me a million and my passage home for my 
 option ! Don t, don t refuse ! &quot; 
 
 I was in a kind of agony. I was right on the 
 point of coming out with the words, &quot; Lloyd, I m a 
 pauper myself absolutely penniless, and in debt!* 
 But a white-hot idea came flaming through my head, 
 and I gripped my jaws together, and calmed myself 
 
3 THE 7,OOO,OOO BANK-NOTE. 
 
 down till I was as cold as a capitalist. Then I said, 
 in a commercial and self-possessed way : 
 
 &quot; I will save you, Lloyd &quot; 
 
 &quot; Then I m already saved J God be merciful to 
 you forever ! If ever I &quot; 
 
 &quot;Let me finish, Lloyd. I will save you, but not 
 in that way; nor that would not be fair to you, after 
 your hard work, and the risks you Ve run. I don t 
 need to buy mines; I can keep my capital moving, 
 in a commercial centre like London without that; 
 it s what I m at, all the time; but here is what I 11 
 do.J 1 know all about that mine, of course; I know 
 its immense value, and can swear to it if anybody 
 wishes it. You shall sell out inside of the fortnight 
 for three millions cash, using my name freely, and 
 we 11 divide, share and share alike.&quot; 
 
 Do you know, he would have danced the furniture 
 to kindling-wood in his insane joy, and broken 
 everything on the place, if I had n t tripped him up 
 and tied him. 
 
 Then he lay there, perfectly happy, saying : 
 
 &quot;I may use your name ! Your name think of 
 it ! Man, they 11 flock in droves, these rich Lon 
 doners; they 11 fight for that stock ! I m a made 
 man, I m a made man forever, and I 11 never forget 
 you as long as I live ! &quot; 
 
 In less than twenty-four hours London was abuzz ! 
 
THE 1,000,000 BANK-NOTE. 39 
 
 I had n t anything to do, day after day, but sit at 
 home, and say to all comers : 
 
 &quot;Yes; I told him to refer to me. I know the 
 man, and I know the mine. His character is above 
 reproach, and the mine is worth far more than he 
 asks for it.&quot; 
 
 /Meantime I spent all my evenings at the minis 
 ter s with Portia. I did t say a word to her about 
 the mine; I saved it for a surprise. We talked sal 
 ary; never anything but salary and love; sometimes 
 love, sometimes salary, sometimes love and salary 
 together. And my ! the interest the minister s wife 
 and daughter took in our little affair, and the end 
 less ingenuities they invented to save us from inter 
 ruption, and to keep the minister in the dark and 
 unsuspicious well, it was just lovely of them !J 
 
 When the month was up, at last, I had a million 
 dollars to my credit in the London and County 
 Bank, and Hastings was fixed in the same way. 
 Dressed at my level best, I drove, byfthe house in 
 Portland Place, judged by the look of things that 
 my birds were home again, went on)to(vvard^he min 
 ister s and got my precious, and we started 5 back, 
 talking salary with all our might.) She was so ex 
 cited and anxious Hhat it made her just intolerably 
 beautiful. I said : 
 
 &quot; Dearie, the way you re looking it s a crime to 
 
40 THE 7,000,000 BANK-NOTE. 
 
 strike for a salary a single penny under three thou 
 sand a year.&quot; 
 
 &quot; Henry, Henry, you 11 ruin us !&quot; 
 
 &quot; Don t you be afraid. Just keep up those looks, 
 and trust to me. It 11 all come out right.&quot; 
 
 So as it turned out, I had to keep bolstering up 
 her courage all the way. She kept pleading with 
 me, and saying : 
 
 &quot; Oh, please remember that if we ask for too much 
 we may get no salary at all; and then what will be 
 come of us, with no way in the world to earn our 
 living ?&quot; 
 
 We were ushered in by that same servant, and 
 there they were, the two old gentlemen. Of course 
 they were surprised to see that wonderful creature 
 with me, but I said : 
 
 &quot; It s all right, gentlemen; she is my future stay 
 and helpmate.&quot; 
 
 And I introduced them to her, and called them 
 by name. It did n t surprise them; they knew I 
 would know enough to consult the directory. They 
 seated us, and were very polite to me, and very 
 solicitous to relieve her from embarrassment, and put 
 her as much at her ease as they could. Then I 
 said : 
 
 &quot; Gentlemen, I am ready to report.&quot; 
 
 &quot; We are glad to hear it,&quot; said my man, &quot;for now 
 
THE 1,0 OO,OOO BANK-NOTE. 41 
 
 we can decide the bet which my brother Abel and I 
 made. If you have won for me, you shall have any 
 situation in my gift. Have you the million-pound 
 note ?&quot; 
 
 &quot; Here it is, sir,&quot; and I handed it to him. 
 
 &quot;I ve won!&quot; he shouted, and slapped Abel on 
 the back. &quot; Now what do you say, brother ?&quot; 
 
 &quot;I say he dfo/ survive, and I ve lost twenty thousand 
 pounds. I never would have believed it.&quot; 
 
 &quot;I Ve a further report to make,&quot; I said, &quot;and a 
 pretty long one. I want you to let me come soon, 
 and detail my whole month s history; and I promise 
 you it s worth hearing. Meantime, take a look at 
 that.&quot; 
 
 &quot; What, man ! Certificate of deposit for 200,000? 
 Is it yours ?&quot; 
 
 &quot; Mine. I earned it by thirty days judicious use 
 of that little loan you let me have. And the only 
 use I made of it was to buy trifles and offer the bill 
 in change.&quot; 
 
 ( Come, this is astonishing ! It s incredible, man !&quot; 
 
 &quot; Never mind, I 11 prove it. Don t take my word 
 unsupported.&quot; 
 
 But now Portia s turn was come to be surprised. 
 Her eyes were spread wide, and she said : 
 
 &quot; Henry, is that really your money ? Have you 
 been fibbing to me ?&quot; 
 
42 THE 7,000,000 BANK-NOTE. 
 
 &quot; I have indeed, dearie. But you 11 forgive me, 
 /know.&quot; 
 
 She put up an arch pout, and said : 
 
 &quot; Don t you be so sure. You are a naughty thing 
 to deceive me so !&quot; 
 
 &quot; Oh, you 11 get over it, sweetheart, you 11 get 
 over it; it was only fun, you know. Come, let s be 
 going.&quot; 
 
 &quot; But wait, wait ! The situation, you know. I 
 want to give you the situation,&quot; said my man. 
 
 &quot;Well,&quot; I said, &quot;I m just as grateful as I can be, 
 but really I don t want one.&quot; 
 
 &quot; But you can have the very choicest one in my 
 gift.&quot; 
 
 &quot;Thanks again, with all my heart; but I don t 
 even want that one.&quot; 
 
 &quot; Henry, I m ashamed of you. You don t half 
 thank the good gentleman. May I do it for you ?&quot; 
 
 &quot; Indeed you shall, dear, if you can improve it. 
 Let us see you try.&quot; 
 
 She walked to my man, got up in his lap, put her 
 arm round his neck, and kissed him right on the 
 mouth. Then the two old gentlemen shouted with 
 laughter, but I was dumfounded, just petrified, as 
 you may say. f Portia said : 
 
 &quot; Papa, he has said you have n t a situation in 
 your gift that he d take; and I feel just as hurt as &quot; 
 
THE I,OOO,OOO BANK-NOTE. 43 
 
 &quot; My darling! is that your papa ?&quot; 
 
 &quot; Yes; he s my steppapa, and the dearest one that 
 ever was. You understand now, don t you, why I 
 was able to laugh when you told me at the minister s, 
 not knowing my relationships, what trouble and 
 worry papa s and Uncle Abel s scheme was giving 
 you?&quot; 
 
 Of course I spoke right up, now, without any fool 
 ing, and went straight to the point. 
 
 &quot;Oh, my dearest dear sir, I want to take back what 
 I said. You have got a situation open that I want.&quot; 
 
 &quot; Name it.&quot; 
 
 &quot; Son-in-law.&quot; 
 
 &quot; Well, well, well ! But you know, if you have n t 
 ever served in that capacity, you of course can t fur 
 nish recommendations of a sort to satisfy the condi 
 tions of the contract, and so &quot; 
 
 &quot;Try me oh, do, I beg of you ! Only just try 
 me thirty or forty years, and if 
 
 &quot; Oh, well, all right; it s but a little thing to ask. 
 take her along.&quot; 
 
 Happy, we too ? There are not words enough in 
 the unabridged to describe it. And when London 
 got the whole history, a day or two later, of my 
 month s adventures with that bank-note, and how 
 they ended, did London talk, and have a good 
 time ? Yes. 
 
44 THE 1.000,000 BANK-NOTE. 
 
 My Portia s papa took that friendly and hospitable 
 bill back to the Bank of England and cashed it; 
 then the Bank canceled it and made him a present 
 of it, and he gave it to us at our wedding, and it has 
 always hung in its frame in the sacredest place in our 
 home, ever since. For it gave me my Portia. But 
 for it I could not have remained in London, would 
 not have appeared at the minister s, never should 
 have met her. And so I always say, &quot; Yes, it s a 
 million-pounder, as you see; but it never made but 
 one purchase in its life, and then got the article for 
 only about a tenth part of its value.&quot; 
 
MENTAL TELEGRAPHY. 
 
 A MANUSCRIPT WITH A HISTORY. 
 
 NOTE TO THE EDITOR. By glancing over the enclosed 
 bundle of rusty old manuscript, you will perceive that I once 
 made a great discovery : the discovery that certain sorts of 
 things which, from the beginning of the world, had always 
 been regarded as merely &quot; curious coincidences&quot; that is to 
 say, accidents -were no more accidental than is the sending 
 and receiving of a telegram an accident. I made this discov 
 ery sixteen or seventeen years ago, and gave it a name 
 &quot; Mental Telegraphy.&quot; It is the same thing around the outer 
 edges of which the Psychical Society of England began to 
 grope (and play with) four or five years ago, and which they 
 named &quot;Telepathy.&quot; Within the last two or three years 
 they have penetrated toward the heart of the matter, how 
 ever, and have found out that mind can act upon mind in a 
 quite detailed and elaborate way over vast stretches of land 
 and water. And they have succeeded in doing, by their great 
 credit and influence, what I could never have done they 
 have convinced the world that mental telegraphy is not a jest, 
 but a fact, and that it is a thing not rare, but exceedingly 
 common. They have done our age a service and a very 
 great service, I think. 
 
 In this old manuscript you will find mention of an extraor 
 dinary experience of mine in the mental telegraphic line, of 
 date about the year 1874 or 1875 the one concerning the 
 Great Bonanza book. It was this experience that called my 
 attention to the matter under consideration. I began to keep 
 a record, after that, of such experiences of mine as seemed 
 explicable by the theory that minds telegraph thoughts to 
 each other. In 1878 I went to Germany and began to write 
 
 45 
 
46 MENTAL TELEGRAPHY. 
 
 the book called A Tramp Abroad. The bulk of this old batch 
 of manuscript was written at that time and for that book. 
 But I removed it when I came to revise the volume for the 
 press ; for I feared that the public would treat the thing as a 
 joke and throw it aside, whereas I was in earnest. 
 
 At home, eight or ten years ago, I tried to creep in under 
 shelter of an authority grave enough to protect the article 
 from ridicule the North American Review. But Mr. Met- 
 calf was too wary for me. He said that to treat these mere 
 &quot;coincidences&quot; seriously was a thing which the Re^&amp;gt;^ew 
 couldn t dare to do ; that I must put either my name or my 
 nom de plume to the article, and thus save the Review from 
 harm. But I could n t consent to that; it would be the surest 
 possible way to defeat my desire that the public should re 
 ceive the thing seriously, and be willing to stop and give it 
 some fair degree of attention. Sol pigeonholed the MS., 
 because I could not get it published anonymously. 
 
 Now see how the world has moved since then. These 
 small experiences of mine, which were too formidable at that 
 time for admission to a grave magazine if the magazine 
 must allow them to appear as something above and beyond 
 &quot;accidents&quot; and &quot;coincidences &quot; are trifling and common 
 place now, since the flood of light recently cast upon mental 
 telegraphy by the intelligent labors of the Psychical Society. 
 But I think they are worth publishing, just to show what 
 harmless and ordinary matters were considered dangerous 
 and incredible eight or ten years ago. 
 
 As I have said, the bulk of this old manuscript was written 
 in 1878 ; a later part was written from time to time two, three, 
 and four years afterward. The &quot; Postscript &quot; I add to-day. 
 
 TV /I AY, 78. Another of those apparently trifling 
 *! things has happened to me which puzzle and 
 perplex all men every now and then, keep them think 
 ing an hour or two, and leave their minds barren of 
 
MENTAL TELEGRAPHY. 47 
 
 explanation or solution at last. Here it is and it 
 looks inconsequential enough, I am obliged to say. 
 A few days ago I said: &quot; It must be that Frank 
 Millet does n t know we are in Germany, or he would 
 have written long before this. I have been on the 
 point of dropping him a line at least a dozen times 
 during the past six weeks, but I always decided to 
 wait a day or two longer, and see if we should n t 
 hear from him. But now I will write.&quot; And so I 
 did. I directed the letter to Paris, and thought, 
 &quot;Now we shall hear from him before this letter is 
 fifty miles from Heidelberg it always happens 
 so.&quot; 
 
 True enough; but why should it? That is the 
 puzzling part of it. We are always talking about 
 letters &quot; crossing&quot; each other, for that is one of the 
 very commonest accidents of this life. We call it 
 &quot;accident,&quot; but perhaps we misname it. We have 
 the instinct a dozen times a year that the letter we 
 are writing is going to &quot;cross&quot; the other person s 
 letter; and if the reader will rack his memory a lit 
 tle he will recall the fact that this presentiment had 
 strength enough to it to make him cut his letter 
 down to a decided briefness, because it would be a 
 waste of time to write a letter which was going to 
 &quot; cross,&quot; and hence be a useless letter. I think that 
 in my experience this instinct has generally come 
 
48 MENTAL TELEGRAPHY. 
 
 to me in cases where I had put off my letter a good 
 while in the hope that the other person would 
 write. 
 
 Yes, as I was saying, I had waited five or six 
 weeks; then I wrote but three lines, because I felt 
 and seemed to know that a letter from Millet would 
 cross mine. And so it did. He wrote the same day that 
 I wrote. The letters crossed each other. His letter 
 went to Berlin, care of the American minister, who 
 sent it to me. In this letter Millet said he had been 
 trying for six weeks to stumble upon somebody who 
 knew my German address, and at last the idea had 
 occurred to him that a letter sent to the care of the 
 embassy at Berlin might possibly find me. 
 
 Maybe it was an &quot;accident&quot; that he finally de 
 termined to write me at the same moment that I 
 finally determined to write him, but I think not. 
 
 With me the most irritating thing has been to 
 wait a tedious time in a purely business matter, 
 hoping that the other party will do the writing, and 
 then sit down and do it myself, perfectly satisfied 
 that that other man is sitting down at the same 
 moment to write a letter which will &quot;cross&quot; mine. 
 And yet one must go on writing, just the same; be 
 cause if you get up from your table and postpone, 
 that other man will do the same thing, exactly as if 
 you two were harnessed together like the Siamese 
 
MENTAL TELEGRAPHY. 49 
 
 twins, and must duplicate each other s move 
 ments. 
 
 Several months before I left home a New York 
 firm did some work about the house for me, and did 
 not make a success of it, as it seemed to me. When 
 the bill came, I wrote and said I wanted the work 
 perfected before I paid. They replied that they 
 were very busy, but that as soon as they could spare 
 the proper man the thing should be done. I waited 
 more than two months, enduring- as patiently as 
 possible the companionship of bells which would 
 fire away of their own accord sometimes when no 
 body was touching them, and at other times would 
 n t ring though you struck the button with a sledge 
 hammer. Many a time I got ready to write and 
 then postponed it; but at last I sat down one even 
 ing and poured out my grief to the extent of a page 
 or so, and then cut my letter suddenly short, because 
 a strong instinct told me that the firm had begun to 
 move in the matter. When I came down to break 
 fast next morning the postman had not yet taken 
 my letter away, but the electrical man had been 
 there, done his work, and was gone again ! He had 
 received his orders the previous evening from his 
 employers, and had come up by the night train. 
 
 If that was an &quot;accident,&quot; it took about three 
 months to get it up in good shape. 
 
50 MENTAL TELEGRAPHY. 
 
 One evening last summer I arrived in Washing 
 ton, registered at the Arlington Hotel, and went to 
 my room. I read and smoked until ten o clock; 
 then, finding I was not yet sleepy, I thought I would 
 take a breath of fresh air. So I went forth in the 
 rain, and tramped through one street after another 
 in an aimless and enjoyable way. I knew that Mr. 
 
 O , a friend of mine, was in town, and I wished 
 
 I might run across him; but I did not propose to 
 hunt for him at midnight, especially as I did not 
 know where he was stopping. Toward twelve 
 o clock the streets had become so deserted that I felt 
 lonesome; so I stepped into a cigar shop far up the 
 Avenue, and remained there fifteen minutes, listen 
 ing to some bummers discussing national politics. 
 Suddenly the spirit of prophecy came upon me, and 
 I said to myself, &quot; Now I will go out at this door, 
 turn to the left, walk ten steps, and meet Mr. O 
 face to face.&quot; I did it, too ! I could not see his face, 
 because he had an umbrella before it, and it was 
 pretty dark anyhow, but he interrupted the man he 
 was walking and talking with, and I recognized his 
 voice and stopped him. 
 
 That I should step out there and stumble upon 
 Mr. O - was nothing, but that I should know be 
 forehand that I was going to do it was a good deal. 
 It is a very curious thing when you come to look at 
 
MENTAL TELEGRAPHY. 51 
 
 it. I stood far within the cigar shop when I deliv 
 ered my prophecy; I walked about five steps to the 
 door, opened it, closed it after me, walked down a 
 flight of three steps to the sidewalk, then turned to 
 the left and walked four or five more, and found my 
 man. I repeat that in itself the thing was nothing; 
 but to know it would happen so beforehand, was n t 
 that really curious ? 
 
 I have criticised absent people so often, and then 
 discovered, to my humiliation, that I was talking 
 with their relatives, that I have grown superstitious 
 about that sort of thing and dropped it. How like 
 an idiot one feels after a blunder like that ! 
 
 We are always mentioning people, and in that 
 very instant they appear before us. We laugh, and 
 say, &quot;Speak of the devil,&quot; and so forth, and there 
 we drop it, considering it an &quot;accident.&quot; It is a 
 cheap and convenient way of disposing of a grave 
 and very puzzling mystery. The fact is it does 
 seem to happen too often to be an accident. 
 
 Now I come to the oddest thing that ever hap 
 pened to me. Two or three years ago I was lying 
 in bed, idly musing, one morning it was the 2d of 
 March when suddenly a red-hot new idea came 
 whistling down into my camp, and exploded with 
 such comprehensive effectiveness as to sweep the 
 vicinity clean of rubbishy reflections, and fill the air 
 
52 MENTAL TELEGRAPHY, 
 
 with their dust and flying fragments. This idea, 
 stated in simple phrase, was that the time was ripe 
 and the market ready for a certain book; a book 
 which ought to be written at once; a book which 
 must command attention and be of peculiar interest 
 to wit, a book about the Nevada silver mines. 
 The &quot; Great Bonanza &quot; was a new wonder then, and 
 everybody was talking about it. It seemed to me 
 that the person best qualified to write this book was 
 Mr. William H. Wright, a journalist of Virginia, 
 Nevada, by whose side I had scribbled many 
 months when I was a reporter there ten or twelve 
 years before. He might be alive still; he might be 
 dead; I could not tell; but I would write him, any 
 way. I began by merely and modestly suggesting 
 that he make such a book; but my interest grew as 
 I went on, and I ventured to map out what I 
 thought ought to be the plan of the work, he being 
 an old friend, and not given to taking good inten 
 tions for ill. I even dealt with details, and sug 
 gested the order and sequence which they should 
 follow. I was about to put the manuscript in an 
 envelope, when the thought occurred to me that if 
 this book should be written at my suggestion, and 
 then no publisher happened to want it, I should feel 
 uncomfortable; so I concluded to keep my letter 
 back until I should have secured a publisher. I 
 
MENTAL TELEGRAPHY. 
 
 53 
 
 pigeonholed my document, and dropped a note to 
 my own publisher, asking him to name a day for a 
 business consultation. He was out of town on a far 
 journey. My note remained unanswered, and at 
 the end of three or four days the whole matter had 
 passed out of my mind. On the 9th of March the 
 postman brought three or four letters, and among 
 them a thick one whose superscription was in a 
 hand which seemed dimly familiar to me. I could 
 not &quot;place &quot;it at first, but presently I succeeded. 
 Then I said to a visiting relative who was present: 
 
 &quot; Now I will do a miracle. I will tell you every 
 thing this letter contains date, signature, and all 
 without breaking the seal. It is from a Mr. Wright, 
 of Virginia, Nevada, and is dated the 2d of March 
 seven days ago. Mr. Wright proposes to make a 
 book about the silver mines and the Great Bonanza, 
 and asks what I, as a friend, think of the idea. He 
 says his subjects are to be so and so, their order and 
 sequence so and so, and he will close with a history 
 of the chief feature of the book, the Great Bonanza.&quot; 
 
 I opened the letter, and showed that I had stated 
 the date and the contents correctly. Mr. Wright s 
 letter simply contained what my own letter, written 
 on the same date, contained, and mine still lay in 
 its pigeonhole, where it had been lying during the 
 seven days since it was written. 
 
54 MENTAL TELEGRAPHY. 
 
 There was no clairvoyance about this, if I rightly 
 comprehend what clairvoyance is. I think the clair 
 voyant professes to actually see concealed writing, 
 and read it off word for word. This was not my 
 case. I only seemed to know, and to know abso 
 lutely, the contents of the letter in detail and due 
 order, but I had to word them myself. I translated 
 them, so to speak, out of Wright s language into my 
 own. 
 
 Wright s letter and the one which I had written 
 to him but never sent were in substance the same. 
 
 Necessarily this could not come by accident; 
 such elaborate accidents cannot happen. Chance 
 might have duplicated one or two of the details, but 
 she would have broken down on the rest. I could 
 not doubt there was no tenable reason for doubt 
 ing that Mr. Wright s mind and mine had been in 
 close and crystal-clear communication with each 
 other across three thousand miles of mountain and 
 desert on the morning of the 2d of March. I did 
 not consider that both minds originated that suc 
 cession of ideas, but that one mind originated them, 
 and simply telegraphed them to the other. I was 
 curious to know which brain was the telegrapher 
 and which the receiver, so I wrote and asked for 
 particulars. Mr. Wright s reply showed that his 
 mind had done the originating and telegraphing 
 
MENTAL TELEGRAPHY. 55 
 
 and mine the receiving. Mark that significant 
 thing, now; consider for a moment how many a 
 splendid &quot;original&quot; idea has been unconsciously 
 stolen from a man three thousand miles away! If 
 one should question that this is so, let him look into 
 the cyclopaedia and con once more that curious 
 thing in the history of inventions which has puzzled 
 every one so much that is, the frequency with 
 which the same machine or other contrivance has 
 been invented at the same time by several persons 
 in different quarters of the globe. The world was 
 without an electric telegraph for several thousand 
 years; then Professor Henry, the American, Wheat- 
 stone in England, Morse on the sea, and a German 
 in Munich, all invented it at the same time. The 
 discovery of certain ways of applying steam was 
 made in two or three countries in the same year. 
 Is it not possible that inventors are constantly and 
 unwittingly stealing each other s ideas whilst they 
 stand thousands of miles asunder ? 
 
 Last spring a literary friend of mine,* who lived 
 a hundred miles away, paid me a visit, and in the 
 course of our talk he said he had made a discovery 
 conceived an entirely new idea one which cer 
 tainly had never been used in literature. He told 
 me what it was. I handed him a manuscript, and 
 * W, D. Howells. 
 
56 MENTAL TELEGRAPHY. 
 
 said he would find substantially the same idea in 
 that a manuscript which I had written a week be 
 fore. The idea had been in my mind since the pre 
 vious November; it had only entered his while I 
 was putting it on paper, a week gone by. He had 
 not yet written his; so he left it unwritten, and 
 gracefully made over all his right and title in the 
 idea to me. 
 
 The following statement, which I have clipped 
 from a newspaper, is true. I had the facts from Mr. 
 Howells s lips when the episode was new: 
 
 &quot;A remarkable story of a literary coincidence is told of 
 Mr. Howells s Atlantic Monthly serial Dr. Breen s Practice. 
 A lady of Rochester, New York, contributed to the magazine, 
 after Dr. Breen s Practice was in type, a short story which 
 so much resembled Mr. Howells s that he felt it necessary to 
 call upon her and explain the situation of affairs in order that 
 no charge of plagiarism might be preferred against him. He 
 showed her the proof-sheets of his story, and satisfied her 
 that the similarity between her work and his was one of those 
 strange coincidences which have from time to time occurred 
 in the literary world.&quot; 
 
 I had read portions of Mr. Howells s story, both 
 in MS. and in proof, before the lady offered her con 
 tribution to the magazine. 
 
 Here is another case. I clip it from a newspaper: 
 
 &quot; The republication of Miss Alcott s novel Moods recalls to 
 a writer in the Boston Post a singular coincidence which was 
 
MENTAL TELEGRAPHY, 57 
 
 brought to light before the book was first published: Miss 
 Anna M. Crane, of Baltimore, published Emily Chester, a 
 novel which was pronounced a very striking and strong story. 
 A comparison of this book with Moods showed that the two 
 writers, though entire strangers to each other, and living 
 hundreds of miles apart, had both chosen the same subject 
 for their novels, had followed almost the same line of treat 
 ment up to a certain point, where the parallel ceased, and the 
 denouements were entirely opposite. And even more curious, 
 the leading characters in both books had identically the same 
 names, so that the names in Miss Alcott s novel had to be 
 changed. Then the book was published by Loring. &quot; 
 
 Four or five times within my recollection there 
 has been a lively newspaper war in this country 
 over poems whose authorship was claimed by two 
 or three different people at the same time. There 
 was a war of this kind over &quot; Nothing to Wear,&quot; 
 Beautiful Snow,&quot; &quot; Rock Me to Sleep, Mother,&quot; 
 and also over one of Mr. Will Carleton s early bal 
 lads, I think. These were all blameless cases of 
 unintentional and unwitting mental telegraphy, I 
 judge. 
 
 A word more as to Mr. Wright. He had had his 
 book in his mind some time; consequently he, and 
 not I, had originated the idea of it. The subject 
 was entirely foreign to my thoughts; I was wholly 
 absorbed in other things. Yet this friend, whom I 
 had not seen and had hardly thought of for eleven 
 years, was able to shoot his thoughts at me across 
 
5 8 MENTAL TELEGRAPHY. 
 
 three thousand miles of country, and fill my head 
 with them, to the exclusion of every other interest, 
 in a single moment. He had begun his letter after 
 finishing his work on the morning paper a little 
 after three o clock, he said. When it was three 
 in the morning in Nevada it was about six in Hart 
 ford, where I lay awake thinking about nothing in 
 particular; and just about that time his ideas came 
 pouring into my head from across the continent, 
 and I got up and put them on paper, under the im 
 pression that they were my own original thoughts. 
 
 I have never seen any mesmeric or clairvoyant 
 performances or spiritual manifestations which were 
 in the least degree convincing a fact which is not 
 of consequence, since my opportunities have been 
 meagre; but I am forced to believe that one human 
 mind (still inhabiting the flesh) can communicate 
 with another, over any sort of a distance, and with 
 out any artificial preparation of &quot; sympathetic con 
 ditions &quot; to act as a transmitting agent. I suppose 
 that when the sympathetic conditions happen to ex 
 ist the two minds communicate with each other, and 
 that otherwise they don t; and I suppose that if the 
 sympathetic conditions could be kept up right along, 
 the two minds would continue to correspond with 
 out limit as to time. 
 
 Now there is that curious thing which happens to 
 
MENTAL TELEGRAPHY. 
 
 59 
 
 everybody: suddenly a succession of thoughts or 
 sensations flocks in upon you, which startles you 
 with the weird idea that you have ages ago experi 
 enced just this succession of thoughts or sensations 
 in a previous existence. The previous existence is 
 possible, no doubt, but I am persuaded that the so 
 lution of this hoary mystery lies not there, but in the 
 fact that some far-off stranger has been telegraphing 
 his thoughts and sensations into your consciousness, 
 and that he stopped because some counter-current 
 or other obstruction intruded and broke the line of 
 communication. Perhaps they seem repetitions to 
 you because they are repetitions, got at second hand 
 from the other man. Possibly Mr. Brown, the 
 &quot; mind-reader,&quot; reads other people s minds, possibly 
 he does not; but I know of a surety that I have read 
 another man s mind, and therefore I do not see why 
 Mr. Brown should n t do the like also. 
 
 I wrote the foregoing about three years ago, in 
 Heidelberg, and laid the manuscript aside, purpos 
 ing to add to it instances of mind-telegraphing from 
 time to time as they should fall under my experi 
 ence. Meantime the &amp;lt;4 crossing &quot; of letters has been 
 so frequent as to become monotonous. However, I 
 have managed to get something useful out of this 
 hint; for now, when I get tired of waiting upon a 
 
6O MENTAL TELEGRAPHY. 
 
 man whom I very much wish to hear from, I sit 
 down and compel him to write, whether he wants to 
 or not; that is to say, I sit down and write him, and 
 then tear my letter up, satisfied that my act has 
 forced him to write me at the same moment. I. do 
 not need to mail my letter the writing it is the 
 only essential thing. 
 
 Of course I have grown superstitious about this 
 letter-crossing business this was natural. We staid 
 awhile in Venice after leaving Heidelberg. One day 
 I was going down the Grand Canal in a gondola, 
 when I heard a shout behind me, and looked around 
 to see what the matter was; a gondola was rapidly 
 following, and the gondolier was making signs to 
 me to stop. I did so, and the pursuing boat ranged 
 up alongside. There was an American lady in it 
 a resident of Venice. She was in a good deal of 
 distress. She said: 
 
 &quot; There s a New York gentleman and his wife at 
 the Hotel Britannia who arrived a week ago, ex 
 pecting to find news of their son, whom they have 
 heard nothing about during eight months. There 
 was no news. The lady is down sick with despair; 
 the gentleman can t sleep or eat. Their son arrived 
 at San Francisco eight months ago, and announced 
 the fact in a letter to his parents the same day. 
 That is the last trace of him. The parents have 
 
MENTAL TELEGRAPHY. 6 1 
 
 been in Europe ever since; but their trip has been 
 spoiled, for they have occupied their time simply in 
 drifting restlessly from place to place, and writing 
 letters everywhere and to everybody, begging for 
 news of their son; but the mystery remains as dense 
 as ever. Now the gentleman wants to stop writing 
 and go to cabling. He wants to cable San Fran 
 cisco. He has never done it before, because he is 
 afraid of of he does n t know what death of his 
 son, no doubt. But he wants somebody to advise him 
 to cable; wants me to do it. Now I simply can t; 
 for if no news came, that mother yonder would die. 
 So I have chased you up in order to get you to sup 
 port me in urging him to be patient, and put the 
 thing off a week or two longer; it may be the sav 
 ing of this lady. Come along; let s not lose any 
 time.&quot; 
 
 So I went along, but I had a programme of my 
 own. When I was introduced to the gentleman I 
 said: &quot; I have some superstitions, but they are wor 
 thy of respect. If you will cable San Francisco im 
 mediately, you will hear news of your son inside of 
 twenty-four hours. I don t know that you will get 
 the news from San Francisco, but you will get it 
 from somewhere. The only necessary thing is to 
 cad le that is all. The news will come within 
 twenty-four hours. Cable Peking, if you prefer; 
 
62 MENTAL TELEGRAPHY. 
 
 there is no choice in this matter. This delay is all 
 occasioned by your not cabling long ago, when you 
 were first moved to do it.&quot; 
 
 It seems absurd that this gentleman should have 
 been cheered up by this nonsense, but he was; he 
 brightened up at once, and sent his cablegram; and 
 next day, at noon, when a long letter arrived from 
 his lost son, the man was as grateful to me as if I 
 had really had something to do with the hurrying 
 up of that letter. The son had shipped from San 
 Francisco in a sailing vessel, and his letter was 
 written from the first port he touched at, months 
 afterward. 
 
 This incident argues nothing, and is valueless. I 
 insert it only to show how strong is the superstition 
 which &quot; letter-crossing&quot; has bred in me. I was so 
 sure that a cablegram sent to any place, no matter 
 where, would defeat itself by &quot; crossing &quot; the incom 
 ing news, that my confidence was able to raise up 
 a hopeless man, and make him cheery and hopeful. 
 
 But here are two or three incidents which come 
 strictly under the head of mind-telegraphing. One 
 Monday morning, about a year ago, the mail came 
 in, and I picked up one of the letters and said to a 
 friend: &quot; Without opening this letter I will tell you 
 what it says. It is from Mrs. - , and she says she 
 was in New York last Saturday, and was purposing 
 
MENTAL TELEGRAPHY. 63 
 
 to run up here in the afternoon train and surprise us, 
 but at the last moment changed her mind and re 
 turned westward to her home.&quot; 
 
 I was right; my details were exactly correct. Yet 
 
 we had had no suspicion that Mrs. was coming 
 
 to New York, or that she had even a remote inten 
 tion of visiting us. 
 
 I smoke a good deal that is to say, all the time 
 so, during seven years, I have tried to keep a box 
 of matches handy, behind a picture on the mantel 
 piece; but I have had to take it out in trying, be 
 cause George (colored), who makes the fires and 
 lights the gas, always uses my matches, and never 
 replaces them. Commands and persuasions have 
 gone for nothing with him all these seven years. 
 One day last summer, when our family had been 
 away from home several months, I said to a mem 
 ber of the household: 
 
 &quot; Now, with all this long holiday, and nothing in 
 the way to interrupt 
 
 &quot; I can finish the sentence for you, &quot;said the mem 
 ber of the household. 
 
 &quot; Do it, then,&quot; said I. 
 
 &quot; George ought to be able, by practicing, to learn 
 to let those matches alone.&quot; 
 
 It was correctly done. That was what I was go 
 ing to say. Yet until that moment George and the 
 
64 MENTAL TELEGRAPHY. 
 
 matches had not been in my mind for three months, 
 and it is plain that the part of the sentence which I 
 uttered offers not the least cue or suggestion of what 
 I was purposing to follow it with. 
 
 My mother* is descended from the younger of two 
 English brothers named Lambton, *vho settled in 
 this country a few generations ago. The tradition 
 goes that the elder of the two eventually fell heir to 
 a certain estate in England (now an earldom), and 
 died right away. This has always been the way 
 with our family. They always die when they could 
 make anything by not doing it. The two Lambtons 
 left plenty of Lambtons behind them; and when at 
 last, about fifty years ago, the English baronetcy 
 was exalted to an earldom, the great tribe of Amer 
 ican Lambtons began to bestir themselves that is, 
 those descended from the elder branch. Ever since 
 that day one or another of these has been fretting 
 his life uselessly away with schemes to get at his 
 &quot; rights.&quot; The present &quot; rightful earl &quot;I mean the 
 American one used to write me occasionally, and 
 try to interest me in his projected raids upon the 
 title and estates by offering me a share in the lat 
 ter portion of the spoil; but I have always managed 
 to resist his temptations. 
 
 Well, one day last summer I was lying under a 
 * She was still living when this was written. 
 
MENTAL TELEGRAPHY. 65 
 
 tree, thinking about nothing in particular, when an 
 absurd idea flashed into my head, and I said to a 
 member of the household, &quot;Suppose I should live 
 to be ninety-two, and dumb and blind and toothless, 
 and just as I was gasping out what was left of me on 
 my death-bed 
 
 &quot;Wait, I will finish the sentence,&quot; said the mem 
 ber of the household. 
 
 &quot; Go on,&quot; said I. 
 
 &quot; Somebody should rush in with a document, and 
 say, All the other heirs are dead, and you are the 
 Earl of Durham ! &quot; 
 
 That is truly what I was going to say. Yet until 
 that moment the subject had not entered my mind 
 or been referred to in my hearing for months before. 
 A few years ago this thing would have astounded me, 
 but the like could not much surprise me now, though 
 it happened every week; for I think I knovu now that 
 mind can communicate accurately with mind with 
 out the aid of the slow and clumsy vehicle of speech. 
 
 This age does seem to have exhausted invention 
 nearly; still, it has one important contract on its 
 hands yet the invention of the phrenophone ; that 
 is to say, a method whereby the communicating of 
 mind with mind may be brought under command 
 and reduced to certainty and system. The telegraph 
 and the telephone are going to become too slow 
 
66 MENTAL TELEGRAPHY. 
 
 and wordy for our needs. We must have the thought 
 itself shot into our minds from a distance; then, if 
 we need to put it into words, we can do that tedious 
 work at our leisure. Doubtless the something which 
 conveys our thoughts through the air from brain to 
 brain is a finer and subtler form of electricity, and 
 all we need do is to find out how to capture it and 
 how to force it to do its work, as we have had to do 
 in the case of the electric currents. Before the day 
 of telegraphs neither one of these marvels would 
 have seemed any easier to achieve than the other. 
 
 While I am writing this, doubtless somebody on 
 the other side of the globe is writing it too. The 
 question is, am I inspiring him or is he inspiring me ? 
 I cannot answer that; but that these thoughts have 
 been passing through somebody else s mind all the 
 time I have been setting them down I have no sort 
 of doubt. 
 
 I will close this paper with a remark which I found 
 some time ago in Boswell s Johnson: 
 
 Voltaire s Candide is wonderfully similar in its 
 plan and conduct to Johnson s Rasselas ; insomuch 
 that I have heard Johnson say that if they had not 
 been published so closely one after the other that 
 there was not time for imitation, it would have been 
 in vain to deny tliat the scheme of that which came 
 latest was taken from the other.&quot; 
 
MENTAL TELEGRAPHY. 67 
 
 The two men were widely separated from each 
 other at the time, and the sea lay between. 
 
 POSTSCRIPT. 
 
 In the Atlantic for June, 1882, Mr. John Fiske re 
 fers to the often-quoted Darwin-and-Wallace &quot;co 
 incidence&quot; : 
 
 &quot;I alluded, just now, to the unforeseen circumstance 
 which led Mr. Darwin in 1859 to break his long silence, and 
 to write and publish the Origin of Species. This circumstance 
 served, no less than the extraordinary success of his book, to 
 show how ripe the minds of men had become for entertaining 
 such views as those which Mr. Darwin propounded. In 1858 
 Mr. Wallace, who was then engaged in studying the natural 
 history of the Malay Archipelago, sent to Mr. Darwin (as to 
 the man most likely to understand him) a paper in which he 
 sketched the outlines of a theory identical with that upon 
 which Mr. Darwin had so long been at work. The same se 
 quence of observed facts and inferences that had led Mr. 
 Darwin to the discovery of natural selection and its con 
 sequences had led Mr. Wallace to the very threshold of the 
 same discovery ; but in Mr. Wallace s mind the theory had 
 by no means been wrought out to the same degree of com 
 pleteness to which it had been wrought in the mind of Mr. 
 Darwin. In the preface to his charming book on Natural 
 Selection, Mr. Wallace, with rare modesty and candor, ac 
 knowledges that whatever value his speculations may have 
 had, they have been utterly surpassed in richness and cogency 
 of proof by those of Mr. Darwin. This is no doubt true, and 
 Mr. Wallace has done such good work in further illustration 
 of the theory that he can well afford to rest content with the 
 second place in the first announcement of it. 
 
 &quot;The coincidence, however, between Mr. Wallace s con- 
 
68 MENTAL TELEGRAPHY. 
 
 elusions and those of Mr. Darwin was very remarkable. But, 
 after all, coincidences of this sort have not been uncommon 
 in the history of scientific inquiry. Nor is it at all surprising 
 that they should occur now and then, when we remember 
 that a great and pregnant discovery must always be concerned 
 with some question which many of the foremost minds in 
 the world are busy thinking about. It was so with the dis 
 covery of the differential calculus, and again with the discov 
 ery of the planet Neptune. It was so with the interpretation 
 of the Egyptian hieroglyphics, and with the establishment of 
 the undulatory theory of light. It was so, to a considerable 
 extent, with the introduction of the new chemistry, with the 
 discovery of the mechanical equivalent of heat, and the whole 
 doctrine of the correlation of forces. It was so with the in 
 vention of the electric telegraph and with the discovery of 
 spectrum analysis. And it is not at all strange that it should 
 have been so with the doctrine of the origin of species through 
 natural selection.&quot; 
 
 He thinks these &quot; coincidences &quot; were apt to hap 
 pen because the matters from which they sprang 
 were matters which many of the foremost minds in 
 the world were busy thinking about. But perhaps 
 one man in each case did the telegraphing to the 
 others. The aberrations which gave Leverrier the 
 idea that there must be a planet of such and such 
 mass and such and such an orbit hidden from sight 
 out yonder in the remote abysses of space were not 
 new; they had been noticed by astronomers for gen 
 erations. Then why should it happen to occur to 
 three people, widely separated Leverrier, Mrs. 
 Somerville, and Adams to suddenly go to worrying 
 
MENTAL TELEGRAPHY. 69 
 
 about those aberrations all at the same time, and 
 set themselves to work to find out what caused them, 
 and to measure and weigh an invisible planet, and 
 calculate its orbit, and hunt it down and catch it ? 
 a strange project which nobody but they had ever 
 thought of before. If one astronomer had invented 
 that odd and happy project fifty years before, don t 
 you think he would have telegraphed it to several 
 others without knowing it ? 
 
 But now I come to a puzzler. How is it that in 
 animate objects are able to affect the mind ? They 
 seem to do that. However, I wish to throw in a 
 parenthesis first just a reference to a thing every 
 body is familiar with the experience of receiving a 
 clear and particular answer to your telegram before 
 your telegram has reached the sender of the answer. 
 That is a case where your telegram has gone straight 
 from your brain to the man it was meant for, far out 
 stripping the wire s slow electricity, and it is an 
 exercise of mental telegraphy which is as common 
 as dining. To return to the influence of inanimate 
 things. In the cases of non-professional clairvoyance 
 examined by the Psychical Society the clairvoyant 
 has usually been blindfolded, then some object 
 which has been touched or worn by a person is 
 placed in his hand; the clairvoyant immediately de 
 scribes that .person, and goes on and gives a- history 
 
70 MENTAL TELEGRAPHY. 
 
 of some event with which the text object has been 
 connected. If the inanimate object is able to affect 
 and inform the clairvoyant s mind, maybe it can do 
 the same when it is working in the interest of men 
 tal telegraphy. Once a lady in the West wrote me 
 that her son was coming to New York to remain 
 three weeks, and would pay me a visit if invited, 
 and she gave me his address. I mislaid the letter, 
 and forgot all about the matter till the three weeks 
 were about up. Then a sudden and fiery irrupton 
 of remorse burst up in my brain that illuminated all 
 the region round about, and I sat down at once and 
 wrote to the lady and asked for that lost address. 
 But, upon reflection, I judged that the stirring up 
 of my recollection had not been an accident, so I 
 added a postscript to say, never mind, I should get 
 a letter from her son before night. And I did get 
 it; for the letter was already in the town, although 
 not delivered yet. It had influenced me somehow. 
 I have had so many experiences of this sort a dozen 
 of them at least that I am nearly persuaded that 
 inanimate objects do not confine their activities to 
 helping the clairvoyant, but do every now and then 
 give the mental telegraphist a lift. 
 
 The case of mental telegraphy which I am com 
 ing to now comes under I don t exactly know what 
 head. I clipped it from one of our local papers six 
 
MENTAL TELEGRAPHY, J\ 
 
 or eight years ago. I know the details to be right 
 and true, for the story was told to me in the same 
 form by one of the two persons concerned (a clergy 
 man of Hartford) at the time that the curious thing 
 happened: 
 
 &quot;A REMARKABLE COINCIDENCE. Strange coincidences 
 make the most interesting of stories and most curious of 
 studies. Nobody can quite say how they come about, but 
 everybody appreciates the fact when they do come, and it is 
 seldom that any more complete and curious coincidence is 
 recorded of minor importance than the following, which is 
 absolutely true, and occurred in this city : 
 
 &quot; At the time of the building of one of the finest residences 
 of Hartford, which is still a very new house, a local firm sup 
 plied the wall-paper for certain rooms, contracting both to 
 furnish and to put on the paper. It happened that they did 
 not calculate the size of one room exactly right, and the 
 paper of the design selected for it fell short just half a roll. 
 They asked for delay enough to send on to the manufacturers 
 for what was needed, and were told that there was no especial 
 hurry. It happened that the manufacturers had none on 
 hand, and had destroyed the blocks from which it was printed. 
 They wrote that they had a full list of the dealers to whom 
 they had sold that paper, and that they would write to each 
 of these, and get from some of them a roll. It might involve 
 a delay of a couple of weeks, but they would surely get it. 
 
 &quot; In the course of time came a letter saying that, to their 
 great surprise, they could not find a single roll. Such a thing 
 was very unusual, but in this case it had so happened. Ac 
 cordingly the local firm asked for further time, saying they 
 would write to their own customers who had bought of that 
 pattern, and would get the piece from them. But, to their 
 surprise, this effort also failed. A long time had now 
 elapsed, and there was no use of delaying any longer. They 
 
72 MENTAL TELEGRAPHY. 
 
 had contracted to paper the room, and their only course was 
 to take off that which was insufficient and put on some other 
 of which there was enough to go around. Accordingly at 
 length a man was sent out to remove the paper. He got his 
 apparatus ready, and was about to begin work, under the di 
 rection of the owner of the building, when the latter was for 
 the moment called away. The house was large and very in 
 teresting, and so many people had rambled about it that 
 finally admission had been refused by a sign at the door. On 
 the occasion, however, when a gentleman had knocked and 
 asked for leave to look about, the owner, being on the prem 
 ises, had been sent for to reply to the request in person. 
 That was the call that for the moment delayed the final prep 
 arations. The gentleman went to the door and admitted 
 the stranger, saying he would show him about the house, but 
 first must return for a moment to that room to finish his 
 directions there, and he told the curious story about the paper 
 as they went on. They entered the room together, and the 
 first thing the stranger, who lived fifty miles away, said on 
 looking about was, Why, I have that very paper on a room 
 in my house, and I have an extra roll of it laid away, which 
 is at your service. In a few days the wall was papered ac 
 cording to the original contract. Had not the owner been 
 at the house, the stranger would not have been admitted; 
 had he called a day later, it would have been too late; had 
 not the facts been almost accidentally told to him, he would 
 probably have said nothing of the paper, and so on. The 
 exact fitting of all the circumstances is something very 
 remarkable, and makes one of those stories that seem hardly 
 accidental in their nature.&quot; 
 
 Something that happened the other day brought 
 my hoary MS. to mind, and that is how I came to 
 dig it out from its dusty pigeonhole grave for pub 
 lication. The thing that happenecl was a question. 
 
MENTAL TELEGRAPHY. 73 
 
 A lady asked it : &quot; Have you ever had a vision 
 when awake?&quot; I was about to answer promptly, 
 when the last two words of the question began to 
 grow and spread and swell, and presently they 
 attained to vast dimensions. She did not know that 
 they were important; and I did not at first, but I 
 soon saw that they were putting me on the track of 
 the solution of a mystery which had perplexed me 
 a good deal. You will see what I mean when I get 
 down to it. Ever since the English Society for 
 Psychical Research began its searching investiga 
 tions of ghost stories, haunted houses, and appari 
 tions of the living and the dead, I have read their 
 pamphlets with avidity as fast as they arrived. Now 
 one of their commonest inquiries of a dreamer or a 
 vision-seer is, &quot;Are you sure you were awake at 
 the time ?&quot; If the man can t say he is sure he was 
 awake, a doubt falls upon his tale right there. But 
 if he is positive he was awake, and offers reasonable 
 evidence to substantiate it, the fact counts largely 
 for the credibility of his story. It does with the 
 society, and it did with me until that lady asked me 
 the above question the other day. 
 
 The question set me to considering, and brought 
 me to the conclusion that you can be asleep at 
 least wholly unconscious for a time, and not sus 
 pect that it has happened, and not have any way to 
 
74 MENTAL TELEGRAPHY. 
 
 prove that it has happened. A memorable case was 
 in my mind. About a year ago I was standing on 
 the porch one day, when I saw a man coming up the 
 walk. He was a stranger, and I hoped he would 
 ring and carry his business into the house without 
 stopping to argue with me; he would have to pass 
 the front door to get to me, and I hoped he would n t 
 take the trouble ; to help, I tried to look like a 
 stranger myself it often works. I was looking 
 straight at that man; he had got to within ten feet 
 of the door and within twenty-five feet of me and 
 suddenly he disappeared. It was as astounding as 
 if a church should vanish from before your face and 
 leave nothing behind it but a vacant lot. I was un 
 speakably delighted. I had seen an apparition at 
 last, with my own eyes, in broad daylight. I made 
 up my mind to write an account of it to the society. 
 I ran to where the spectre had been, to make sure 
 he was playing fair, then I ran to the other end of 
 the porch, scanning the open grounds as I went. 
 No, everything was perfect ; he could n t have 
 escaped without my seeing him; he was an appari 
 tion, without the slightest doubt, and I would write 
 him up before he was cold. I ran, hot with excite 
 ment, and let myself in with a latch-key. When I 
 stepped into the hall my lungs collapsed and my 
 heart stood still. For there sat that same apparition 
 
MENTAL TELEGRAPHY. 75 
 
 in a chair, all alone, and as quiet and reposeful as if 
 he had come to stay a year ! The shock kept me 
 dumb for a moment or two, then I said, &quot;Did you 
 come in at that door ?&quot; 
 &quot; Yes.&quot; 
 
 &quot; Did you open it, or did you ring ?&quot; 
 &quot; I rang, and the colored man opened it.&quot; 
 I said to myself: &quot; This is astonishing. It takes 
 George all of two minutes to answer the door-bell 
 when he is in a hurry, and I have never seen him in 
 a hurry. How did this man stand two minutes at 
 that door, within five steps of me, and I did not see 
 him ? &quot; 
 
 I should have gone to my grave puzzling over 
 that riddle but for that lady s chance question last 
 week : &quot; Have you ever had a vision when awake ? &quot; 
 It stands explained now. During at least sixty sec 
 onds that day I was asleep, or at least totally un 
 conscious, without suspecting it. In that interval 
 the man came to my immediate vicinity, rang, stood 
 there and waited, then entered and closed the door, 
 and I did not see him and did not hear the door slam. 
 If he had slipped around the house in that inter 
 val and gone into the cellar he had time enough 
 I should have written him up for the society, and 
 magnified him, and gloated over him, and hurrahed 
 about him, and thirty yoke of oxen could not have 
 
76 MENTAL TELEGRAPHY. 
 
 pulled the belief out of me that I was of the favored 
 ones of the earth, and had seen a vision while wide 
 awake. 
 
 Now how are you to tell when you are awake ? 
 What are you to go by ? People bite their fingers 
 to find out. Why, you can do that in a dream. 
 
A CURE FOR THE BLUES. 
 
 BY courtesy of Mr. Cable I came into possession 
 of a singular book eight or ten years ago. It is 
 likely that mine is now the only copy in existence. 
 Its title-page, unabbreviated, reads as follows : 
 
 &quot; The Enemy Conquered; or, Love Triumphant. 
 By G. Ragsdale McClintock,* author of k An Ad 
 dress, etc., delivered at Sunflower Hill, South Car 
 olina, and member of the Yale Law School. New 
 Haven: published by T. H. Pease, 83 Chapel Street, 
 1845.&quot; 
 
 No one can take up this book, and lay it down 
 a^ain unread. Whoever reads one line of it is 
 
 o 
 
 caught, is chained; he has become the contented 
 slave of its fascinations; and he will read and read, 
 devour and devour, and will not let it go out of his 
 hand till it is finished to the last line, though the 
 house be on fire over his head. And after a first 
 reading, he will not throw it aside, but will keep it 
 
 *The name here given is a substitute for the one actually at 
 tached to the pamphlet. 
 
 77 
 
78 A CURE FOR THE BLUES. 
 
 by him, with his Shakspere and his Homer, and will 
 take it up many and many a time, when the world 
 is dark, and his spirits are low, and be straightway 
 cheered and refreshed. Yet this work has been al 
 lowed to lie wholly neglected, unmentioned, and 
 apparently unregretted, for nearly half a century. 
 
 The reader must not imagine that he is to find in 
 it wisdom, brilliancy, fertility of invention, ingenuity 
 of construction, excellence of form, purity of style, 
 perfection of imagery, truth to nature, clearness of 
 statement, humanly possible situations, humanly 
 possible people, fluent narrative, connected sequence 
 of events or philosophy, or logic, or sense. No; 
 the rich, deep, beguiling charm of the book lies in 
 the total and miraculous absence from it of all these 
 qualities a charm which is completed and perfect 
 ed by the evident fact that the author, whose naive 
 innocence easily and surely wins our regard, and 
 almost our worship, does not know that they are ab 
 sent, does not even suspect that they are absent. 
 When read by the light of these helps to an under 
 standing of the situation, the book is delicious 
 profoundly and satisfyingly delicious. 
 
 I call it a book because the author calls it a book, 
 I call it a work because he calls it a work; but in 
 truth it is merely a duodecimo pamphlet of thirty- 
 one pages. It was written for fame and money as 
 
A CURE FOR THE BLUES. 79 
 
 the author very frankly yes, and very hopefully, 
 too, poor fellow says in his preface. The money 
 never came; no penny of it ever came; and how 
 long, how pathetically long, the fame has been de 
 ferred forty-seven years ! He was young then, it 
 would have been so much to him then; but will he 
 care for it now ? 
 
 As time is measured in America, McClintock s 
 epoch is antiquity. In his long-vanished day the 
 Southern author had a passion for &quot; eloquence&quot; ; it 
 was his pet, his darling. He would be eloquent, or 
 perish. And he recognized only one kind of elo 
 quence, the lurid, the tempestuous, the volcanic. 
 He liked words; big words, fine words, grand words, 
 rumbling, thundering, reverberating words with 
 sense attaching if it could begot in without marring 
 the sound, but not otherwise. He loved to stand 
 up before a dazed world, and pour forth flame, and 
 smoke, and lava, and pumice-stone, into the skies, 
 and work his subterranean thunders, and shake 
 himself with earthquakes, and stench himself with 
 sulphur fumes. If he consumed his own fields and 
 vineyards, that was a pity, yes; but he would have 
 his eruption at any cost. Mr. McClintock s elo 
 quence and he is always eloquent, his crater is al 
 ways spouting is of the pattern common to his 
 day, but he depart-^ Wii ^e custom of the time in 
 
8O A CURE FOR THE BLUES. 
 
 one respect: his brethren allowed sense to intrude 
 when it did not mar the sound, but he does not al 
 low it to intrude at all. For example, consider this 
 figure, which he uses in the village &quot; Address &quot; re 
 ferred to with such candid complacency in the title- 
 page above quoted &quot;like the topmost topaz of an 
 ancient tower.&quot; Please read it again; contemplate 
 it; measure it; walk around it; climb up it; try to 
 get at an approximate realization of the size of it. 
 Is the fellow to that to be found in literature, an 
 cient or modern, foreign or domestic, living or dead, 
 drunk or sober ? One notices how fine and grand it 
 sounds. We know that if it was loftily uttered, it 
 got a noble burst of applause from the villagers; yet 
 there is n t a ray of sense in it, or meaning to it. 
 
 McClintock finished his education at Yale in 1843, 
 and came to Hartford on a visit that same year. I 
 have talked with men who at that time talked with 
 him, and felt of him, and knew he was real. One 
 needs to remember that fact, and to keep fast hold 
 of it; it is the only way to keep McClintock s book 
 from undermining one s faith in- McClintock s ac 
 tuality. 
 
 As to the book. The first four pages are devoted 
 to an inflamed eulogy of Woman, simply Woman 
 in general, or perhaps as an Institution, wherein, 
 among other compliments to her details, he pays a 
 
A CURE FOR THE BLUES. 3 I 
 
 unique one to her voice. He says it &quot; fills the breast 
 with fond alarms, echoed by every rill.&quot; It sounds 
 well enough, but it is not true. After the eulogy he 
 takes up his real work, and the novel begins. It 
 begins in the woods, near the village of Sunflower 
 Hill. 
 
 Brightening clouds seemed to rise from the mist of the 
 fair Chattahoochee, to spread their beauty over the thick 
 forest, to guide the hero whose bosom beats with aspirations 
 to conquer the enemy that would tarnish his name, and to 
 win back the admiration of his long tried friend. 
 
 fxl/V 
 
 It seems a general remark, but it is not general; 
 the hero mentioned is the to-be hero of the book; 
 and in this abrupt fashion, and without name or de 
 scription, he is shoveled into the tale. With as 
 pirations to conquer the enemy that would tarnish 
 his name &quot; is merely a phrase flung in for the sake 
 of the sound let it not mislead the reader. No one 
 is trying to tarnish this person; no one has thought 
 of it. The rest of the sentence is also merely a 
 phrase; the man has no friend as yet, and of course 
 has had no chance to try him, or win back his ad 
 miration, or disturb him in any other way. 
 
 The hero climbs up over (&amp;lt; Sawney s Mountain,&quot; 
 and down the other side, making for an old Indian 
 &quot;castle&quot; which becomes &quot;the red man s hut &quot;in 
 the next sentence; and when he gets there at last, 
 
82 A CURE FOR THE BLUES. 
 
 he &quot; surveys with wonder and astonishment&quot; the in 
 visible structure, &quot; which time had buried in the 
 dust; and thought to himself his happiness was not 
 yet complete.&quot; One does n t know why it was n t, 
 nor how near it came to being complete, nor what 
 was still wanting to round it up and make it so. 
 Maybe it was the Indian; but the book does not 
 say. At this point we have an episode : 
 
 Beside the shore of the brook sat a young man, about 
 eighteen or twenty, who seemed to be reading some favorite 
 book, and who had a remarkably noble countenance eyes 
 which betrayed more than a common mind. This of course 
 made the youth a welcome guest, and gained him friends in 
 whatever condition of life he might be placed. The traveler 
 observed that he was a well built figure which showed strength 
 and grace in every movement. He accordingly addressed 
 him in quite a gentlemanly manner, and inquired of him 
 the way to the village. After he had received the desired 
 information, and was about taking his leave, the youth 
 said, &quot;Are you not Major Elfonzo, the great musician * 
 the champion of a noble cause the modern Achilles, who 
 gained so many victories in the Florida War ? &quot; &quot;I bear that 
 name,&quot; said the Major, &quot;and those titles, trusting at the 
 same time, that the ministers of grace will carry me trium 
 phantly through all my laudable undertakings, and if,&quot; con 
 tinued the Major, &quot;you sir, are the patronizer of noble deeds, 
 I should like to make you my confidant, and learn your ad 
 dress.&quot; The youth looked somewhat amazed, bowed low, 
 mused for a moment, and began : &quot; My name is Roswell. I 
 
 * Further on it will be seen that he is a country expert on the 
 fiddle, and has a three-township fame. 
 
A CURE FOR THE BLUES. 83 
 
 have been recently admitted to the bar, and can only give a 
 faint outline of my future success in that honorable profes 
 sion; but I trust, sir, like the Eagle, I shall look down from 
 lofty rocks upon the dwellings of man, and shall ever be 
 ready to give you any assistance in my official capacity, and 
 whatever this muscular arm of mine can do, whenever it shall 
 be called from its buried greatness.&quot; The Major grasped 
 him by the hand, and exclaimed: &quot; O! thou exalted spirit of 
 inspiration thou flame of burning prosperity, may the Heav 
 en directed blaze be the glare of thy soul, and battle down 
 every rampart that seems to impede your progress! &quot; 
 
 There is a strange sort of originality about Mc- 
 Clintock; he imitates other people s styles, but no 
 body can imitate his, not even an idiot. Other 
 people can be windy, but McClintock blows a gale; 
 other people can blubber sentiment, but McClintock 
 spews it; other people can mishandle metaphors, 
 but only McClintock knows how to make a business 
 of it. McClintock is always McClintock, he is al 
 ways consistent, his style is always his own style. 
 He does not make the mistake of being relevant on 
 one page and irrelevant on another; he is irrelevant 
 on all of them. He does not make the mistake of 
 being lucid in one place and obscure in another; he 
 is obscure all the time. He does not make the mis 
 take of slipping in a name here and there that is out 
 of character with his work; he always uses names 
 that exactly and fantastically fit his lunatics. In 
 the matter of undeviating consistency he stands 
 
84 A CURE FOR THE BLUES. 
 
 alone in authorship. It is this that makes his style 
 unique, and entitles it to a name of its own McClin- 
 tockian. It is this that protects it from being mis 
 taken for anybody else s. Uncredited quotations 
 from other writers often leave a reader in doubt as 
 to their authorship, but McClintock is safe from that 
 accident; an uncredited quotation from him would 
 always be recognizable. When a boy nineteen 
 years old, who had just been admitted to the bar, 
 says, &quot; I trust, sir, like the Eagle, I shall look down 
 from lofty rocks upon the dwellings of man,&quot; we 
 know who is speaking through that boy; we should 
 recognize that note anywhere. There be myriads 
 of instruments in this world s literary orchestra, and 
 a multitudinous confusion of sounds that they make, 
 wherein fiddles are drowned, and guitars smothered, 
 and one sort of drum mistaken for another sort; but 
 whensoever the brazen note of the McClintockian 
 trombone breaks through that fog of music, that 
 note is recognizable, and about it there can be no 
 blur of doubt. 
 
 The novel now arrives at the point where the 
 Major goes home to see his father. When McClin 
 tock wrote this interview, he probably believed it 
 was pathetic. 
 
 The road which led to the town, presented many attrac 
 tions. Elfonzo had bid farewell to the youth of deep feeling, 
 
A CURE FOR THE BLUES. 85 
 
 and was now wending his way to the dreaming spot of his 
 fondness. The south winds whistled through the woods, as 
 the waters dashed against the banks, as rapid fire in the pent 
 furnace roars. This brought him to remember while alone, 
 that he quietly left behind the hospitality of a father s house, 
 and gladly entered the world, with higher hopes than are 
 often realized. But as he journeyed onward, he was mindful 
 of the advice of his father, who had often looked sadly on 
 the ground, when tears of cruelly deceived hope, moistened 
 his eyes. Elfonzo had been somewhat of a dutiful son; yet 
 fond of the amusements of life had been in distant lands 
 had enjoyed the pleasure of the world, and had frequently 
 returned to the scenes of his boyhood, almost destitute of 
 many of the comforts of life. In this condition, he would 
 frequently say to his father, &quot; Have I offended you, that you 
 look upon me as a stranger, and frown upon me with sting 
 ing looks? Will you not favor me with the sound of your 
 voice? If I have trampled upon your veneration, or have 
 spread a humid veil of darkness around your expectations, 
 send me back into the world, where no heart beats for me 
 where the foot of man has never yet trod ; but give me at 
 least one kind word allow me to come into the presence 
 sometimes of thy winter-worn locks.&quot; &quot; Forbid it, Heaven, 
 that I should be angry with thee,&quot; answered the father, &quot; my 
 son, and yet I send thee back to the children of the world 
 to the cold charity of the combat, and to a land of victory. 
 I read another destiny in thy countenance I learn thy in 
 clinations from the flame that has already kindled in my soul 
 a strange sensation. It will seek thee, my dear Elfonzo, it 
 will find thee thou canst not escape that lighted torch, 
 which shall blot out from the remembrance of men a long 
 train of prophecies which they have foretold against thee. I 
 once thought not so. Once, I was blind; but now the path 
 of life is plain before me, and my sight is clear; yet Elfonzo, 
 return to thy worldly occupation take again in thy hand, 
 that chord of sweet sounds struggle with the civilized world, 
 
86 A CURE FOR THE BLUES. 
 
 and with your own heart; fly swiftly to the enchanted ground 
 let the night-owl send forth its screams from the stubborn 
 oak let the sea sport upon the beach, and the stars sing to 
 gether; but learn of these, Elfonzo, thy doom, and thy hid 
 ing-place. Our most innocent as well as our most lawful 
 desires must often be denied us, that we may learn to sacri 
 fice them to a Higher will.&quot; 
 
 Remembering such admonitions with gratitude, Elfonzo 
 was immediately urged by the recollection of his father s 
 family to keep moving. 
 
 McClintock has a fine gift in the matter of sur 
 prises; but as a rule they are not pleasant ones, 
 they jar upon the feelings. His closing sentence in 
 the last quotation is of that sort. It brings one 
 down out of the tinted clouds in too sudden and 
 collapsed a fashion. It incenses one against the 
 author for a moment. It makes the reader want to 
 take him by his winter-worn locks, and trample on 
 his veneration, and deliver him over to the cold 
 charity of combat, and blot him out with his own 
 lighted torch. But the feeling does not last. The 
 master takes again in his hand that concord of 
 sweet sounds of his, and one is reconciled, pac 
 ified. 
 
 His steps became quicker and quicker he hastened 
 through the piny woods, dark as the forest was, and with joy 
 he very soon reached the little village of repose, in whose 
 bosom rested the boldest chivalry. His close attention to 
 every important object his modest questions about whatever 
 was new to him his reverence for wise old age, and his ar- 
 
A CURE FOR THE BLUES. 87 
 
 dent desire to learn many of the fine arts, soon brought him 
 into respectable notice. 
 
 One mild winter day, as he walked along the streets tow 
 ard the Academy, which stood upon a small eminence, sur 
 rounded by native growth some venerable in its appearance, 
 others young and prosperous all seemed inviting, and seemed 
 to be the very place for learning as well as for genius to 
 spend its research beneath its spreading shades. He entered 
 its classic walls in the usual mode of southern manners. 
 
 The artfulness of this man ! None knows so well 
 as he how to pique the curiosity of the reader and 
 how to disappoint it. He raises the hope, here, 
 that he is going to tell all about how one enters a 
 classic wall in the usual mode of Southern manners; 
 but does he? No; he smiles in his sleeve, and 
 turns aside to other matters. 
 
 The principal of the Institution begged him to be seated, 
 and listen to the recitations that were going on. He accord 
 ingly obeyed the request, and seemed to be much pleased. 
 After the school was dismissed, and the young hearts re 
 gained their freedom, with the songs of the evening, laugh 
 ing at the anticipated pleasures of a happy home, while 
 others tittered at the actions of the past day, he addressed 
 the teacher in a tone that indicated a resolution with an 
 undaunted mind. He said he had determined to become a 
 student, if he could meet with his approbation, &quot; Sir,&quot; said 
 he, &quot;I have spent much time in the world. I have traveled 
 among the uncivilized inhabitants of America. I have met 
 with friends, and combated with foes; but none of these 
 gratify my ambition, or decide what is to be my destiny. I 
 see the learned world have an influence with the voice of the 
 people themselves. The despoilers of the remotest kingdoms 
 
88 A CURE FOR THE BLUES. 
 
 of the earth, refer their differences to this class of persons. 
 This the illiterate and inexperienced little dream of; and now 
 if you will receive me as I am, with these deficiencies with 
 all my misguided opinions, I will give you my honor, sir, 
 that I will never disgrace the Institution, or those who have 
 placed you in this honorable station.&quot; The instructor, who 
 had met with many disappointments, knew how to feel for a 
 stranger who had been thus turned upon the charities of an 
 unfeeling community. He looked at him earnestly, and 
 said: &quot; Be of good cheer look forward, sir, to the high des 
 tination you may attain. Remember, the more elevated the 
 mark at which you aim, the more sure, the more glorious, 
 the more magnificent the prize.&quot; From wonder to wonder, 
 his encouragement led the impatient listener. A strange 
 nature bloomed before him giant streams promised him 
 success gardens of hidden treasures opened to his view. 
 All this, so vividly described, seemed to gain a new witchery 
 from his glowing fancy. 
 
 It seems to me that this situation is new in ro 
 mance. I feel sure it has not been attempted be 
 fore. Military celebrities have been disguised and 
 set at lowly occupations for dramatic effect, but I 
 think McClintock is the first to send one of them to 
 school. Thus, in this book, you pass from wonder 
 to wonder, through gardens of hidden treasure, 
 where giant streams bloom before you, and behind 
 you, and all around, and you feel as happy, and 
 groggy, and satisfied, with your quart of mixed 
 metaphor aboard, as you would if it had been mixed 
 in a sample-room, and delivered from a jug. 
 
 Now we come upon some more McClintockian 
 
A CURE FOR THE BLUES. 89 
 
 surprises a sweetheart who is sprung upon us with 
 out any preparation, along with a name for her 
 which is even a little more of a surprise than she 
 herself is. 
 
 In 1842, he entered the class, and made rapid progress in 
 the English and Latin departments. Indeed, he continued 
 advancing with such rapidity that he was like to become the 
 first in his class, and made such unexpected progress, and 
 was so studious, that he had almost forgotten the pictured 
 saint of his affections. The fresh wreaths of the pine and 
 cypress, had waited anxiously to drop once more the dews of 
 Heaven upon the heads of those who had so often poured 
 forth the tender emotions of their souls under its boughs. 
 He was aware of the pleasure that he had seen there. So 
 one evening, as he was returning from his reading, he con 
 cluded he would pay a visit to this enchanting spot. Little 
 did he think of witnessing a shadow of his former happiness, 
 though no doubt, he wished it might be so. He continued 
 sauntering by the road-side, meditating on the past. The 
 nearer he approached the spot, the more anxious he became. 
 At that moment, a tall female figure flitted across his path, 
 with a bunch of roses in her hand; her countenance showed 
 uncommon vivacity, with a resolute spirit; her ivory teeth 
 already appeared as she smiled beautifully, promenading, 
 while her ringlets of hair, dangled unconsciously around her 
 snowy neck. Nothing was wanting to complete her beauty. 
 The tinge of the rose was in full bloom upon her cheek; the 
 charms of sensibility and tenderness were always her asso 
 ciates. In Ambulinia s bosom dwelt a noble soul one that 
 never faded one that never was conquered. 
 
 Ambulinia! It can hardly be matched in fiction. 
 The full name is Ambulinia Valeer. Marriage will 
 
9 o 
 
 A CUKE FOR THE BLUES. 
 
 presently round it out and perfect it. Then it will 
 be Mrs. Ambulinia Valeer Elfonzo. It takes the 
 chromo. 
 
 Her heart yielded to no feeling but the love of Elfonzo, 
 on whom she gazed with intense delight, and to whom she 
 felt herself more closely bound, because he sought the hand 
 of no other. Elfonzo was roused from his apparent revery. 
 His books no longer were his inseparable companions his 
 thoughts arrayed themselves to encourage him to the field 
 of victory. He endeavored to speak to his supposed Ambu 
 linia, but his speech appeared not in words. No, his effort 
 was a stream of fire, that kindled his soul into a flame of ad 
 miration, and carried his senses away captive. Ambulinia 
 had disappeared, to make him more mindful of his duty. As 
 she walked speedily away through the piny woods, she calmly 
 echoed: &quot;O! Elfonzo, thou wilt now look from thy sun 
 beams. Thou shalt now walk in a new path perhaps thy 
 way leads through darkness; but fear not, the stars foretell 
 happiness.&quot; 
 
 To McClintock that jingling jumble of fine words 
 meant something, no doubt, or seemed to mean 
 something; but it is useless for us to try to divine 
 what it was. Ambulinia comes we don t know 
 whence nor why; she mysteriously intimates we 
 don t know what; and then she goes echoing away 
 we don t know whither; and down comes the cur 
 tain. McClintock s art is subtle; McClintock s art 
 is deep. 
 
 Not many days afterwards, as surrounded by fragrant flow 
 ers, she sat one evening at twilight, to enjoy the cool breeze 
 
A CURE FOR THE BLUES. 9! 
 
 that whispered notes of melody along the distant groves, the 
 little birds perched on every side, as if to watch the move 
 ments of their new visitor. The bells were tolling, when El- 
 fonzo silently stole along by the wild wood flowers, holding 
 in his hand his favorite instrument of music his eye contin 
 ually searching for Ambulinia, who hardly seemed to per 
 ceive him, as she played carelessly with the songsters that 
 hopped from branch to branch. Nothing could be more 
 striking than the difference between the two. Nature seem 
 ed to have given the more tender soul to Elfonzo, and the 
 stronger and more courageous to Ambulinia. A deep feeling 
 spoke from the eyes of Elfonzo, such a feeling as can only 
 be expressed by those who are blessed as admirers, and by 
 those who are able to return the same with sincerity of heart. 
 He was a few years older than Ambulina: she had turned a 
 little into her seventeenth. He had almost grown up in the 
 Cherokee country, with the same equal proportions as one 
 of the natives. But little intimacy had existed between them 
 until the year forty-one because the youth felt that the 
 character of such a lovely girl was too exalted to inspire any 
 other feeling than that of quiet reverence. But as lovers will 
 not always be insulted, at all times and under all circum 
 stances, by the frowns and cold looks of crabbed old age, 
 which should continually reflect dignity upon those around, 
 and treat the unfortunate as well as the fortunate with a 
 graceful mien, he continued to use diligence and persever 
 ance. All this lighted a spark in his heart that changed his 
 whole character, and like the unyielding Deity that follows 
 the storm to check its rage in the forest, he resolves for the 
 first time to shake off his embarrassment, and return where 
 he had before only worshiped. 
 
 At last we begin to get the major s measure. We 
 are able to put this and that casual fact together, 
 and build the man up before our eyes, and look at 
 
92 A CURE FOR THE BLUES. 
 
 him. And after we have got him built, we find him 
 worth the trouble. By the above comparison be 
 tween his age and Ambulinia s, we guess the war 
 worn veteran to be twenty-two; and the other facts 
 stand thus: he had grownup in the Cherokee coun 
 try with the same equal proportions as one of the 
 natives how flowing and graceful the language, 
 and yet how tantalizing as to meaning ! he had 
 been turned adrift by his father, to whom he had 
 been &quot;somewhat of a dutiful son&quot;; he wandered in 
 distant lands; came back frequently &quot; to the scenes 
 of his boyhood, almost destitute of many of the com 
 forts of life,&quot; in order to get into the presence of his 
 father s winter-worn locks, and spread a humid veil 
 of darkness around his expectations; but he was al 
 ways promptly sent back to the cold charity of the 
 combat again; he learned to play the fiddle, and 
 made a name for himself in that line; he had dwelt 
 among the wild tribes; he had philosophized about 
 the despoilers of the kingdoms of the earth, and 
 found out the cunning creature that they refer 
 their differences to the learned for settlement; he 
 had achieved a vast fame as a military chieftain, the 
 Achilles of the Florida campaigns, and then had got 
 him a spelling-book and started to school; he had 
 fallen in love with Ambulinia Valeer while she was 
 teething, but had kept it to himself awhile, out of 
 
A CURE FOR THE BLUES. 93 
 
 the reverential awe which he felt for the child; but 
 now at last, like the unyielding deity who follows 
 the storm to check its rage in the forest, he resolves 
 to shake off his embarrassment, and to return where 
 before he had only worshiped. The major, indeed, 
 has made up his mind to rise up and shake his fac 
 ulties together, and to see if he can t do that thing 
 himself. This is not clear. But no matter about 
 that: there stands the hero, compact and visible; 
 and he is no mean structure, considering that his 
 creator had never created anything before, and 
 hadn t anything but rags and wind to build with 
 this time. It seems to me that no one can con 
 template this odd creature, this quaint and curious 
 blatherskite, without admiring McClintock, or, at 
 any rate, loving him and feeling grateful to him; for 
 McClintock made him, he gave him to us; without 
 McClintock we could not have had him, and would 
 now be poor. 
 
 But we must come to the feast again. Here is a 
 courtship scene, down there in the romantic glades 
 among the raccoons, alligators, and things, that has 
 merit, peculiar literary merit. See how Achilles 
 woos. Dwell upon the second sentence (particu 
 larly the close of it), and the beginning of the third. 
 Never mind the new personage, Leos, who is in 
 truded upon us unheralded and unexplained. That 
 
94 A CURE FOR THE BLUES. 
 
 is McClintock s way; it is his habit; it is a part of 
 his genius; he cannot help it; he never interrupts 
 the rush of his narrative to make introductions: 
 
 It could not escape Ambulinia s penetrating eye, that he 
 sought an interview with her, which she as anxiously avoid 
 ed, and assumed a more distant calmness than before, seem 
 ingly to destroy all hope. After many efforts and struggles 
 with his own person, with timid steps the Major approached 
 the damsel, with the same caution as he would have done in 
 a field of battle. &quot; Lady Ambulinia,&quot; said he, trembling, &quot; I 
 have long desired a moment like this. I dare not let it es 
 cape. I fear the consequences; yet I hope your indulgence 
 will at least hear my petition. Can you not anticipate what 
 I would say, and what I am about to express? Will you 
 not, like Minerva, who sprung from the brain of Jupiter, re 
 lease me from thy winding chains or cure me &quot; &quot; Say no 
 more, Elfonzo,&quot; answered Ambulinia, with a serious look, 
 raising her hand as if she intended to swear eternal hatred 
 against the whole world, &quot; another lady in my place would 
 have perhaps answered your question in bitter coldness. I 
 know not the little arts of my sex. I care but little for the 
 vanity of those who would chide me, and am unwilling, as 
 well as ashamed to be guilty of any thing that would lead 
 you to think all is not gold that glitters : so be not rash in 
 your resolution. It is better to repent now, than to do it in 
 a more solemn hour. Yes, I know what you would say. I 
 know you have a costly gift for me the noblest that man 
 can make your heart ! you should not offer it to one so un 
 worthy. Heaven, you know, has allowed my father s house 
 to be made a house of solitude, a home of silent obedience, 
 which my parents say is more to be admired than big names 
 and high sounding titles. Notwithstanding all this, let me 
 speak the emotions of an honest heart allow me to say in 
 the fullness of my hopes that I anticipate better days. The 
 
A CURE FOR THE BLUES. 95 
 
 bird may stretch its wings toward the sun, which it can never 
 reach; and flowers of the field appear to ascend in the 
 same direction, because they cannot do otherwise : but man 
 confides his complaints to the saints in whom he believes; 
 for in their abodes of light they know no more sorrow. From 
 your confession and indicative looks, I must be that person : 
 if so, deceive not yourself.&quot; 
 
 Elfonzo replied, &quot; Pardon me, my dear madam, for my 
 frankness. I have loved you from my earliest days every 
 thing grand and beautiful hath borne the image of Ambu- 
 linia: while precipices on every hand surrounded me, your 
 guardian angel stood and beckoned me away from the deep 
 abyss. In every trial in every misfortune, I have met with 
 your helping hand; yet I never dreamed or dared to cherish 
 thy love, till a voice impaired with age encouraged the cause, 
 and declared they who acquired thy favor, should win a vic 
 tory. I saw how Leos worshiped thee. I felt my own un- 
 worthiness. I began to know jealousy, a strong guest indeed, 
 in my bosom, yet I could see if I gained your admiration, 
 Leos was to be my rival. I was aware that he had the in 
 fluence of your parents, and the wealth of a deceased relative, 
 which is too often mistaken for permanent and regular tran 
 quillity; yet I have determined by your permission to beg an 
 interest in your prayers to ask you to animate my drooping 
 spirits by your smiles and your winning looks; for, if you but 
 speak, I shall be conqueror, my enemies shall stagger like 
 Olympus shakes. And though earth and sea may tremble, 
 and the charioteer of the sun may forget his dashing steed; 
 yet I am assured that it is only to arm me with divine weap 
 ons, which will enable me to complete my long tried in 
 tention.&quot; &quot; Return to yourself, Elfonzo,&quot; said Ambulinia, 
 pleasantly, &quot; a dream of vision has disturbed your intellect 
 you are above the atmosphere, dwelling in the celestial 
 regions, nothing is there that urges or hinders, nothing that 
 brings discord into our present litigation. I entreat you to 
 condescend a little, and be a man, and forget it all. When 
 
96 A CURE FOR THE BLUES. 
 
 Homer describes the battle of the gods and noble men, fight 
 ing with giants and dragons, they represent under this image, 
 our struggles with the delusions of our passions. You have 
 exalted me, an unhappy girl, to the skies, you have called 
 me a saint, and portrayed in your imagination, an angel in 
 human form. Let her remain such to you, let her continue 
 to be as you have supposed, and be assured that she will con 
 sider a share in your esteem, as her highest treasure. Think 
 not that I would allure you from the path in which your con 
 science leads you; for you know I respect the conscience of 
 others, as I would die for my own. Elfonzo, if I am worthy 
 of thy love, let such conversation never again pass between 
 us. Go, seek a nobler theme ! we will seek it in the stream 
 of time, as the sun set in the Tigris.&quot; As she spake these 
 words, she grasped the hand of Elfonzo, saying at the same 
 time &quot; peace and prosperity attend you my hero: be up and 
 doing.&quot; Closing her remarks with this expression, she 
 walked slowly away, leaving Elfonzo astonished and amazed. 
 He ventured not to follow, or detain her. Here he stood 
 alone, gazing at the stars; confounded as he was, here he 
 stood. 
 
 Yes; there he stood. There seems to be no doubt 
 about that. Nearly half of this delirious story has 
 now been delivered to the reader. It seems a pity 
 to reduce the other half to a cold synopsis. Pity ! 
 it is more than a pity, it is a crime; for, to synopsize 
 McClintock is to reduce a sky-flushing conflagration 
 to dull embers, it is to reduce barbaric splendor to 
 ragged poverty. McClintock never wrote a line 
 that was not precious; he never wrote one that 
 could be spared; he never framed one from which a 
 word could be removed without damage. Every 
 
A CURE FOR THE 13 LUES. gj 
 
 sentence that this master has produced may be 
 likened to a perfect set of teeth, white, uniform, 
 beautiful. If you pull one, the charm is gone. 
 
 Still, it is now necessary to begin to pull, and to 
 keep it up; for lack of space requires us to synop- 
 size. 
 
 We left Elfonzo standing there, amazed. At 
 what, we do not know. Not at the girl s speech. 
 No; we ourselves should have been amazed at it, 
 of course, for none of us has ever heard anything 
 resembling it: but Elfonzo was used to speeches 
 made up of noise and vacancy, and could listen to 
 them with undaunted mind like the &quot; topmost topaz 
 of an ancient tower&quot;; he was used to making them 
 himself; he but let it go, it cannot be guessed 
 out; we shall never know what it was that aston 
 ished him. He stood there awhile; then he said, 
 &quot;Alas! am I now Grief s disappointed son at last.&quot; 
 He did not stop to examine his mind, and to try to 
 find out what he probably meant by that, because, 
 for one reason, &quot;a mixture of ambition and great 
 ness of soul moved upon his young heart,&quot; and 
 started him for the village. He resumed his bench 
 in school, &quot;and reasonably progressed in his edu 
 cation.&quot; His heart was heavy, but he went into 
 society, and sought surcease of sorrow in its light 
 distractions. He made himself popular with his 
 
9 8 A CURE FOR THE BLUES. 
 
 violin, &quot; which seemed to have a thousand chords 
 more symphonious than the Muses of Apollo, and 
 more enchanting than the ghost of the Hills.&quot; 
 This is obscure, but let it go. 
 
 During this interval Leos did some unencouraged 
 courting, but at last, &quot; choked by his undertaking,&quot; 
 he desisted. 
 
 Presently &quot;Elfonzo again wends his way to the 
 stately walls and new built village.&quot; He goes to 
 the house of his beloved; she opens the door her 
 self. To my surprise for Ambulinia s heart had 
 still seemed free at the time of their last interview 
 love beamed from the girl s eyes. One sees that 
 Elfonzo was surprised, too; for when he caught 
 that light, &quot; a halloo of smothered shouts ran through 
 every vein.&quot; A neat figure a very neat figure, in 
 deed ! Then he kissed her. &quot; The scene was over 
 whelming.&quot; They went into the parlor. The girl 
 said it was safe, for her parents were abed, and 
 would never know. Then we have this fine picture 
 flung upon the canvas with hardly an effort, as 
 you will notice. 
 
 Advancing toward him she gave a bright display of her 
 rosy neck, and from her head the ambrosial locks breathed 
 divine fragrance; her robe hung waving to his view, while 
 she stood like a goddess confessed before him. 
 
 There is nothing of interest in the couple s inter- 
 
A CURE FOR THE BLUES. 99 
 
 view. Now at this point the girl invites Elfonzo to 
 a village show, where jealousy is the motive of the 
 play, for she wants -to teach him a wholesome les 
 son, if he is a jealous person. But this is a sham, 
 and pretty shallow. McClintock merely wants a 
 pretext to drag in a plagiarism of his upon a scene 
 or two in &quot;Othello.&quot; 
 
 The lovers went to the play. Elfonzo was one of 
 the fiddlers. He and Ambulinia must not be seen 
 together, lest trouble follow with the girl s malig 
 nant father; we are made to understand that clearly. 
 So the two sit together in the orchestra, in the 
 midst of the musicians. This does not seem to be 
 good art. In the first place, the girl would be in 
 the way, for orchestras are always packed closely 
 together, and there is no room to spare for people s 
 girls; in the next place, one cannot conceal a girl 
 in an orchestra without everybody taking notice of 
 it. There can be no doubtr^f seems to me, that 
 this is bad art. 
 
 Leos is present. Of course one of the first things 
 that catches his eye is the maddening spectacle of 
 Ambulinia &quot;leaning upon Elfonzo s chair.&quot; This 
 poor girl does not seem to understand even the 
 rudiments of concealment. But she is &quot;in her 
 seventeenth,&quot; as the author phrases it, and that is 
 her justification. 
 
100 A CURE PO& fttE LUS. 
 
 Leos meditates, constructs a plan with personal 
 violence as a basis, of course. It was their way, 
 down there. It is a good plain plan, without any 
 imagination in it. He will go out and stand at the 
 front door, and when these two come out he will 
 &quot; arrest Ambulinia from the hands of the insolent 
 Elfonzo,&quot; and thus make for himself a &quot; more pros 
 perous field of immortality than ever was decreed 
 by Omnipotence, or ever pencil drew or artist 
 imagined.&quot; But dear me, while he is waiting there 
 the couple climb out at the back window and scurry 
 home ! This is romantic enough, but there is a 
 lack of dignity in the situation. 
 
 At this point McClintock puts in the whole of 
 his curious play which we skip. 
 
 Some correspondence follows now. The bitter 
 father and the distressed lovers write the letters. 
 Elopements are attempted. They are are idioti 
 cally planned, and they fail. Then we have several 
 pages of romantic powwow and confusion signifying 
 nothing. Another elopement is planned; it is to 
 take place on Sunday, when everybody is at church. 
 But the &quot;hero&quot; cannot keep the secret; he tells 
 everybody. Another author would have found 
 another instrument when he decided to defeat this 
 elopement; but that is not McClintock s way. He 
 uses the person that is nearest at hand. 
 
A CURE FOR THE %L,UES\ &quot; : 
 
 The evasion failed, of course. Ambulinia, in her 
 flight, takes refuge in a neighbor s house. Her fa 
 ther drags her home. The villagers gather, at 
 tracted by the racket. 
 
 Elfonzo was moved at this sight. The people followed on 
 to see what was going to become of Ambulinia, while he, 
 with downcast looks, kept at a distance, until he saw them 
 enter the abode of the father, thrusting her, that was the 
 sigh of his soul, out of his presence into a solitary apartment, 
 when she exclaimed, &quot; Elfonzo! Elfonzo! oh, Elfonzo! where 
 art thou, with all thy heroes? haste, oh! haste, come thou 
 to my relief. Ride on the wings of the wind! Turn thy 
 force loose like a tempest, and roll on thy army like a whirl 
 wind, over this mountain of trouble and confusion. Oh, 
 friends! if any pity me, let your last efforts throng upon the 
 green hills, and come to the relief of Ambulinia, who is guilty 
 of nothing but innocent love.&quot; Elfonzo called out with a 
 loud voice, &quot; my God, can I stand this! arouse up, I beseech 
 you, and put an end to this tyranny. Come, my brave boys,&quot; 
 said he, &quot;are you ready to go forth to your duty?&quot; They 
 stood around him. &quot; Who,&quot; said he, &quot;will call us to arms? 
 Where are my thunderbolts of war? Speak ye, the first who 
 will meet the foe! Who will go forth with me in this ocean 
 of grievous temptation ? If there is one who desires to go, 
 let him come and shake hands upon the altar of devotion, 
 and swear that he will be a hero; yes, a Hector in a cause 
 like this, which calls aloud for a speedy remedy.&quot; &quot;Mine 
 be the deed,&quot; said a young lawyer, &quot;and mine alone; Venus 
 alone shall quit her station before I will forsake one jot or 
 tittle of my promise to you; what is death to me ? what is all 
 this warlike army, if it is not to win a victory ? I love the 
 sleep of the lover and the mighty: nor would I give it over 
 till the blood of my enemies should wreak with that of my 
 own. But God forbid that our fame should soar on the 
 
I Of? A CU#% FQK THE B LUES. 
 
 blood of the slumberer. &quot; Mr. Valeer stands at his door with 
 the frown of a demon upon his brow, with his dangerous 
 weapon* ready to strike the first man who should enter his 
 door. &quot; Who will arise and go forward through blood and 
 carnage to the rescue of my Ambulinia?&quot; said Elfonzo. 
 &quot;All,&quot; exclaimed the multitude; and onward they went, 
 with their implements of battle. Others, of a more timid 
 nature, stood among the distant hills to see the result of the 
 contest. 
 
 It will hardly be believed that after all this thun 
 der and lightning not a drop of rain fell; but such 
 is the fact. Elfonzo and his gang stood up and 
 blackguarded Mr. Valeer with vigor all night, get 
 ting their outlay back with interest ; then in the 
 early morning the army and its general retired from 
 the field, leaving the victory with their solitary ad 
 versary and his crowbar. This is the first time this 
 has happened in romantic literature. The invention 
 is original. Everything in this book is original; 
 there is nothing hackneyed about it anywhere. Al 
 ways, in other romances, when you find the author 
 leading up to a climax, you know what is going to 
 happen. But in this book it is different; the thing 
 which seems, inevitable and unavoidable never hap 
 pens; it is circumvented by the art of the author 
 every time. 
 
 Another elopement was attempted. It failed. 
 
 * It is a crowbar. 
 
A CURE FOR THE BLUES. 1 03 
 
 We have now arrived at the end. But it is not 
 exciting. McClintock thinks it is; but it is n t. 
 One day Elfonzo sent Ambulinia another note a 
 note proposing elopement No. 16. This time the 
 plan is admirable; admirable, sagacious, ingenious, 
 imaginative, deep oh, everything, and perfectly 
 easy. One wonders why it was never thought of 
 before. This is the scheme. Ambulinia is to leave 
 the breakfast-table, ostensibly to attend to the 
 placing of those flowers, which ought to have been 
 done a week ago,&quot; artificial ones, of course; the 
 others would n t keep so long, and then, instead of 
 fixing the flowers, she is to walk out to the grove, 
 and go off with Elfonzo. The invention of this plan 
 overstrained the author, that is plain, for he straight 
 way shows failing powers. The details of the plan 
 are not many or elaborate. The author shall state 
 them himself this good soul, whose intentions are 
 always better than his English: 
 
 You walk carelessly towards the academy grove, where you 
 will find me with a lightning steed, elegantly equipped to bear 
 you off where we shall be joined in wedlock with the first 
 connubial rights. 
 
 Last scene of all, which the author, now much 
 enfeebled, tries to smarten up and make acceptable 
 to his spectacular heart by introducing some new 
 properties, silver bow, golden harp, olive branch, 
 
IO4 A CURE FOR THE BLUES. 
 
 things that can all come good in an elopement, 
 no doubt, yet are not to be compared to an umbrella 
 for real handiness and reliability in an excursion of 
 that kind. 
 
 And away she ran to the sacred grove, surrounded with 
 glittering pearls, that indicated her coming. Elfonzo hails 
 her with his silver bow and his golden harp. They meet 
 Ambulinia s countenance brightens Elfonzo leads up his 
 winged steed. &quot; Mount,&quot; said he, &quot; ye true hearted, ye fear 
 less soul the day is ours.&quot; She sprang upon the back of the 
 young thunderbolt, a brilliant star sparkles upon her head, 
 with one hand she grasps the reins, and with the other she 
 holds an olive-branch. &quot;Lend thy aid, ye strong winds,&quot; 
 they exclaimed, &quot;ye moon, ye sun, and all ye fair host of 
 heaven, witness the enemy conquered.&quot; A Hold, &quot;said Elfon 
 zo, &quot;thy dashing steed.&quot; &quot; Ride on,&quot; said Ambulinia, &quot;the 
 voice of thunder is behind us. &quot; And onward they went, with 
 such rapidity, that they very soon arrived at Rural Retreat, 
 where they dismounted, and were united with all the solem 
 nities that usually attend such divine operations. 
 
 There is but one Homer, there was but one 
 Shakspere, there is but one McClintock and his 
 immortal book is before you. Homer could not 
 have written this book, Shakspere could not have 
 written it, I could not have done it myself. There 
 is nothing just like it in the literature of any country 
 or of any epoch. It stands alone; it is monumental. 
 It adds G. Ragsdale McClintock s to the sum of the 
 republic s imperishable names. 
 
THE 
 
 CURIOUS BOOK 
 
 COMPLETE 
 
 [The foregoing review of the great work of G. Ragsdale 
 McClintock is liberally illuminated with sample extracts, but 
 these cannot appease the appetite. Only the complete book, un 
 abridged, can do that. Therefore it is here printed. M. T.] 
 
THE ENEMY CONQUERED; OR, LOVE 
 TRIUMPHANT. 
 
 Sweet girl, thy smiles are full of charms, 
 
 Thy voice is sweeter still, 
 It fills the breast with fond alarms, 
 
 Echoed by every rill. 
 
 I BEGIN this little work with an eulogy upon woman, who 
 has ever been distinguished for her perseverance, her 
 constancy, and her devoted attention to those upon whom 
 she has been pleased to place her affections. Many have been 
 the themes upon which writers and public speakers have 
 dwelt with intense and increasing interest. Among these 
 delightful themes stands that of woman, the balm to all our 
 sighs and disappointments, and the most preeminent of all 
 other topics. Here the poet and orator have stood and gazed 
 with wonder and with admiration; they have dwelt upon her 
 innocence, the ornament of all her virtues. First viewing 
 her external charms, such as are set forth in her form and 
 her benevolent countenance, and then passing to the deep 
 hidden springs of loveliness and disinterested devotion. In 
 every clime, and in every age, she has been the pride of her 
 nation. Her watchfulness is untiring; she who guarded the 
 sepulchre was the first to approach it, and the last to depart 
 from its awful yet sublime scene. Even here, in this highly- 
 favored land, we look to her for the security of our institu 
 tions, and for our future greatness as a nation. But, strange 
 as it may appear, woman s charms and virtues are but slightly 
 appreciated by thousands. Those who should raise the stand- 
 
 106 
 
THE ENEMY CONQUERED. IO/ 
 
 ard of female worth, and paint her value with her virtues, in 
 living colors, upon the banners that are fanned by the zephyrs 
 of heaven, and hand them down to posterity as emblematical 
 of a rich inheritance, do not properly estimate them. 
 
 Man is not sensible, at all times, of the nature and the 
 emotions which bear that name; he does not understand, he 
 will not comprehend; his intelligence has not expanded to 
 that degree of glory which drinks in the vast revolution of 
 humanity, its end, its mighty destination, and the causes 
 which operated, and are still operating, to produce a more 
 elevated station, and the objects which energize and enliven 
 its consummation. This he is a stranger to; he is not aware 
 that woman is the recipient of celestial love, and that man is 
 dependent upon her to perfect his character; that without 
 her, philosophically and truly speaking, the brightest of his 
 intelligence is but the coldness of a winter moon, whose 
 beams can produce no fruit, whose solar light is not its own, 
 but borrowed from the great dispenser of effulgent beauty. 
 We have no disposition in the world to flatter the fair sex, 
 we would raise them above those dastardly principles which 
 only exist in little souls, contracted hearts, and a distracted 
 brain. Often does she unfold herself in all her fascinating 
 loveliness, presenting the most captivating charms; yet we 
 find man frequently treats such purity of purpose with indif 
 ference. Why does he do it? Why does he baffle that which 
 is inevitably the source of his better days? Is he so much 
 of a stranger to those excellent qualities, as not to appreciate 
 woman, as not to have respect to her dignity? Since her art 
 and beauty first captivated man, she has been his delight and 
 his comfort; she has shared alike in his misfortunes and in 
 his prosperity. 
 
 Whenever the billows of adversity and the tumultuous 
 waves of trouble beat high, her smiles subdue their fury. 
 Should the tear of sorrow and the mournful sigh of grief 
 interrupt the peace of his mind, her voice removes them all, 
 and she bends from her circle to encourage him onward. 
 
IO8 THE ENEMY CONQUERED; 
 
 When darkness would obscure his mind, and a thick cloud 
 of gloom would bewilder its operations, her intelligent eye 
 darts a ray of streaming light into his heart. Mighty and 
 charming is that disinterested devotion which she is ever 
 ready to exercise toward man, not waiting till the last moment 
 of his danger, but seeks to relieve him in his early afflictions. 
 It gushes forth from the expansive fullness of a tender and 
 devoted heart, where the noblest, the purest, and the most 
 elevated and refined feelings are matured, and developed in 
 those many kind offices which invariably make her character. 
 
 In the room of sorrow and sickness, this unequaled char 
 acteristic may always be seen, in the performance of the most 
 charitable acts; nothing that she can do to promote the hap 
 piness of him who she claims to be her protector, will be 
 omitted; all is invigorated by the animating sunbeams which 
 awaken the heart to songs of gayety. Leaving this point, to 
 notice another prominent consideration, which is generally 
 one of great moment and of vital importance. Invariably 
 she is firm and steady in all her pursuits and aims. There is 
 required a combination of forces and extreme opposition to 
 drive her from her position; she takes her stand, not to be 
 moved by the sound of Apollo s lyre, or the curved bow of 
 pleasure. 
 
 Firm and true to what she undertakes, and that which she 
 requires by her own aggrandizement, and regards as being 
 within the strict rules of propriety, she will remain stable and 
 unflinching to the last. A more genuine principle is not to 
 be found in the most determined, resolute heart of man. 
 For this she deserves to be held in the highest commenda 
 tion, for this she deserves the purest of all other blessings, 
 and for this she deserves the most laudable reward of all 
 others. It is a noble characteristic, and is worthy the imita 
 tion of any age. And when we look at it in one particular 
 aspect, it is still magnified, and grows brighter and brighter 
 the more we reflect upon its eternal duration. What will she 
 not do, when her word as well as her affections and love are 
 
OR, LOVE TRIUMPHANT. 
 
 pledged to her lover ? Every thing that is dear to her on 
 earth, all the hospitalities of kind and loving parents, all the 
 sincerity and loveliness of sisters, and the benevolent devo 
 tion of brothers, who have surrounded her with every com 
 fort; she will forsake them all, quit the harmony and sweet 
 sound of the lute and the harp, and throw herself upon the 
 affections of some devoted admirer, in whom she fondly 
 hopes to find more than she has left behind, which is not 
 often realized by many. Truth and virtue all combined! 
 How deserving our admiration and love! Ah! cruel would 
 it be in man, after she has thus manifested such an unshaken 
 confidence in him, and said by her determination to abandon 
 all the endearments and blandishments of home, to act a vil 
 lainous part, and prove a traitor in the revolution of his mis 
 sion, and then turn Hector over the innocent victim whom 
 he swore to protect, in the presence of Heaven, recorded 
 by the pen of an angel. 
 
 Striking as this trait may unfold itself in her character, 
 and as preeminent as it may stand among the fair display of 
 her other qualities, yet there is another, which struggles into 
 existence, and adds an additional lustre to what she already 
 possesses. I mean that disposition in woman which enables 
 her, in sorrow, in grief, and in distress, to bear all with en 
 during patience. This she has done, and can and will do, 
 amid the din of war and clash of arms. Scenes and occur 
 rences which, to every appearance, are calculated to rend the 
 heart with the profoundest emotions of trouble, do not fetter 
 that exalted principle imbued in her very nature. It is true, 
 her tender and feeling heart may often be moved, (as she is 
 thus constituted,) but still she is not conquered, she has not 
 given up to the harlequin of disappointments, her energies 
 have not become clouded in the last moment of misfortune, 
 but she is continually invigorated by the archetype of her 
 affections. She may bury her face in her hands, and let the 
 tear of anguish roll, she may promenade the delightful walks 
 of some garden, decorated with all the flowers of nature, or 
 
I I O THE EN EM Y CONQ UERED ; 
 
 she may steal out along some gently rippling stream, and 
 there, as the silver waters uninterruptedly move forward, 
 sheds her silent tears, they mingle with the waves, and take 
 a last farewell of their agitated home, to seek a peaceful 
 dwelling among the rolling floods; yet there is a voice rush 
 ing from her breast, that proclaims victory along the whole 
 line and battlement of her affections. That voice is the voice 
 of patience and resignation ; that voice is one that bears every 
 thing calmly and dispassionately; amid the most distressing 
 scenes, when the fates are arrayed against her peace, and ap 
 parently plotting for her destruction, still she is resigned. 
 
 Woman s affections are deep, consequently her troubles 
 may be made to sink deep. Although you may not be able 
 to mark the traces of her grief and the furrowings of her an 
 guish upon her winning countenance, yet be assured they are 
 nevertheless preying upon her inward person, sapping the 
 very foundation of that heart which alone was made for the 
 weal and not the woe of man. The deep recesses of the soul 
 are fields for their operation. But they are not destined sim 
 ply to take the regions of the heart for their dominion, they 
 are not satisfied merely with interrupting her better feelings; 
 but after a while you may see the blooming cheek beginning 
 to droop and fade, her intelligent eye no longer sparkles with 
 the starry light of heaven, her vibrating pulse long since 
 changed its regular motion, and her palpitating bosom beats 
 once more for the mid-day of her glory. Anxiety and care 
 ultimately throw her into the arms of the haggard and grim 
 monster death. But, oh, how patient, under every pining 
 influence! Let us view the matter in bolder colors; see her 
 when the dearest object of her affections recklessly seeks 
 every bacchanalian pleasure, contents himself with the last 
 rubbish of creation. With what solicitude she awaits his re 
 turn! Sleep fails to perform its office she weeps while the 
 nocturnal shades of the night triumph in the stillness. Bend 
 ing over some favorite book, whilst the author throws before 
 her mind the most beautiful imagery, she startles at every 
 
OR, LOVE TRIUMPHANT. Ill 
 
 sound. The midnight silence is broken by the solemn an 
 nouncement of the return of another morning. He is still 
 absent: she listens for that voice which has so often been 
 greeted by the melodies of her own; but, alas! stern silence 
 is all that she receives for her vigilance. 
 
 Mark her unwearied watchfulness, as the night passes 
 away. At last, brutalized by the accursed thing, he staggers 
 along with rage, and shivering with cold, he makes his ap 
 pearance. Not a murmur is heard from her lips. On the 
 contrary, she meets him with a smile she caresses him with 
 her tender arms, with all the gentleness and softness of her 
 sex. Here then, is seen her disposition, beautifully arrayed. 
 Woman, thou art more to be admired than the spicy gales of 
 
 \rabia, and more sought for than the gold of Golconda. 
 
 TVe believe that Woman should associate freely with man, 
 and we believe that it is for the preservation of her rights. 
 She should become acquainted with the metaphysical designs 
 of those who condescend to sing the siren song of flattery. 
 This, we think, should be according to the unwritten law of 
 decorum, which is stamped upon every innocent heart. The 
 precepts of prudery are often steeped in the guilt of contam 
 ination, which blasts the expectations of better moments. 
 Truth, and beautiful dreams loveliness, and delicacy of 
 character, with cherished affections of the ideal woman 
 gentle hopes and aspirations, are enough to uphold her in the 
 storms of darkness, without the transferred colorings of a 
 stained sufferer. How often have we seen it in our public 
 prints, that woman occupies a false station in the world! and 
 some have gone so far as to say it was an unnatural one. So 
 long has she been regarded a weak creature, by the rabble 
 and illiterate they have looked upon her as an insufficient 
 actress on the great stage of human life a mere puppet, to 
 fill up the drama of human existence a thoughtless inactive 
 being, that she has too often come to the same conclusion 
 herself, and has sometimes forgotten her high destination, in 
 the meridian of her glory. We have but little sympathy or 
 
112 THE ENEMY CONQUERED , 
 
 patience for those who treat her as a mere Rosy Melindi 
 who are always fishing for pretty compliments who are sat 
 isfied by the gossamer of Romance, and who can be allured 
 by the verbosity of high-flown words, rich in language, but 
 poor and barren in sentiment. Beset, as she has been, by 
 the intellectual vulgar, the selfish, the designing, the cunning, 
 the hidden, and the artful no wonder she has sometimes 
 folded her wings in despair, and forgotten her heavenly mis 
 sion in the delirium of imagination; no wonder she searches 
 out some wild desert, to find a peaceful home. But this can 
 not always continue. A new era is moving gently onward, 
 old things are rapidly passing away; old superstitutions, old 
 prejudices, and old notions are now bidding farewell to their 
 old associates and companions, and giving way to one whose 
 wings are plumed with the light of heaven, and tinged by the 
 dews of the morning. There is a remnant of blessedness that 
 clings to her in spite of all evil influence there is enough of 
 the Divine Master left, to accomplish the noblest work ever 
 achieved under the canopy of the vaulted skies; and that 
 time is fast approaching, when the picture of the true woman 
 will shine from its frame of glory, to captivate, to win back, 
 to restore, and to call into being once more, the object of her 
 mission. 
 
 Star of the brave! thy glory shed, 
 
 O er all the earth, thy army led 
 
 Bold meteor of immortal birth! 
 
 Why come from Heaven to dwell on Earth? 
 
 Mighty and glorious are the days of youth; happy the mo 
 ments of the lover, mingled with smiles and tears of his de 
 voted, and long to be remembered are the achievements 
 which he gains with a palpitating heart and a trembling hand. 
 A bright and lovely dawn, the harbinger of a fair and pros 
 perous day, had arisen over the beautiful little village of 
 Gumming, which is surrounded by the most romantic scenery 
 in the Cherokee country. Brightening clouds seemed to rise 
 
OR, LOVE TRIUMPHANT. I 13 
 
 from the mist of the fair Chattahoochee, to spread their 
 beauty over the thick forest, to guide the hero whose bosom 
 beats with aspirations to conquer the enemy that would tar 
 nish his name, and to win back the admiration of his long 
 tried friend. He endeavored to make his way through Saw 
 ney s Mountain, where many meet to catch the gales that are 
 continually blowing for the refreshment of the stranger and 
 the traveler. Surrounded as he was, by hills on every side, 
 naked rocks dared the efforts of his energies. Soon the sky 
 became overcast, the sun buried itself in the clouds, and the 
 fair day gave place to gloomy twilight, which lay heavily on 
 the Indian Plains. He remembered an old Indian Castle, 
 that once stood at the foot of the Mountain. He thought if 
 he could make his way to this, he would rest contented for a 
 short time. The mountain air breathed fragrance a rosy 
 tinge rested on the glassy waters that murmured at its base. 
 His resolution soon brought him to the remains of the red 
 man s hut: he surveyed with wonder and astonishment, the 
 decayed building, which time had buried in the dust, and 
 thought to himself, his happiness was not yet complete. Be 
 side the shore of the brook sat a young man, about eighteen 
 or twenty, who seemed to be reading some favorite book, 
 and who had a remarkably noble countenance eyes which 
 betrayed more than a common mind. This of course made 
 the youth a welcome guest, and gained him friends in what 
 ever condition of life he might be placed. The traveler ob 
 served that he was a well built figure which showed strength 
 and grace in every movement. He accordingly addressed 
 him in quite a gentlemanly manner, and inquired of him the 
 way to the village. After he had received the desired infor 
 mation, and was about taking his leave, the youth said, 
 &quot; Are you not Major Elfonzo, the great musician the cham 
 pion of a noble cause the modern Achilles, who gained so 
 many victories in the Florida War? &quot; &quot;I bear that name,&quot; 
 said the Major, &quot; and those titles, trusting at the same time, 
 that the ministers of grace will carry me triumphantly through 
 
I 1 4 THE ENEM Y CO A Q UERED; 
 
 all my laudable undertakings, and if,&quot; continued the Major, 
 &quot;you sir, are the patronizer of noble deeds, I should like to 
 make you my confidant, and learn your address. &quot; The youth 
 looked somewhat amazed, bowed low, mused for a moment, 
 and began: &quot; My name is Roswell. 1 have been recently ad 
 mitted to the bar, and can only give a faint outline of my 
 future success in that honorable profession; but I trust, sir, 
 like the Eagle, I shall look down from lofty rocks upon the 
 dwellings of man, and shall ever be ready to give you any 
 assistance in my official capacity, and whatever this muscular 
 arm of mine can do, whenever it shall be called from its buried 
 greatness&quot; The Major grasped him by the hand, and ex 
 claimed: &quot; O! thou exalted spirit of inspiration thou flame 
 of burning prosperity, may the Heaven directed blaze be the 
 glare of thy soul, and battle down every rampart that seems 
 to impede your progress! &quot; 
 
 The road which led to the town, presented many attrac 
 tions. Elfonzo had bid farewell to the youth of deep feeling, 
 and was now wending his way to the dreaming spot of his 
 fondness. The south winds whistled through the woods, as 
 the waters dashed against the banks, as rapid fire in the pent 
 furnace roars. This brought him to remember while alone, 
 that he quietly left behind the hospitality of a father s house, 
 and gladly entered the world, with higher hopes than are 
 often realized. But as he journeyed onward, he was mind 
 ful of the advice of his father, who had often looked sadly on 
 the ground, when tears of cruelly deceived hope, moistened 
 his eye. Elfonzo had been somewhat of a dutiful son; yet 
 fond of the amusements of life had been in distant lands 
 had enjoyed the pleasure of the world, and had frequently re 
 turned to the scenes of his boyhood, almost destitute of 
 many of the comforts of life. In this condition, he would 
 frequently say to his father, &quot; Have I offended you, that you 
 look upon me as a stranger, and frown upon me with sting 
 ing looks? Will you not favor me with the sound of your 
 voice? If I have trampled upon your veneration, or have 
 
OR, LOVE TRIUMPHANT. I 15 
 
 spread a humid veil of darkness around your expectations, 
 send me back into the world where no heart beats for me 
 where the foot of man has never yet trod; but give me at 
 least one kind word allow me to come into the presence 
 sometimes of thy winter-worn locks.&quot; &quot; Forbid it, Heaven, 
 that I should be angry with thee,&quot; answered the father, &quot; my 
 son, and yet I send thee back to the children of the world 
 to the cold charity of the combat, and to a land of victory. 
 I read another destiny in thy countenance I learn thy in 
 clinations from the flame that has already kindled in my soul 
 a strange sensation. It will seek thee, my dear Elfonzo, it 
 will find thee thou canst not escape that lighted torch, 
 which shall blot out from the remembrance of men a long 
 train of prophecies which they have foretold against thee. I 
 once thought not so. Once, I was blind; but now the path 
 of life is plain before me, and my sight is clear; yet Elfonzo, 
 return to thy worldly occupation take again in thy hand, 
 that chord of sweet sounds struggle with the civilized world, 
 and with your own heart; fly swiftly to the enchanted ground 
 let the night-(9w/ send forth its screams from the stubborn 
 oak let the sea sport upon the beach, and the stars sing to 
 gether; but learn of these, Elfonzo, thy doom, and thy hid 
 ing place. Our most innocent as well as our most lawful de 
 sires must often be denied us, that we may learn to sacrifice 
 them to a Higher will.&quot; 
 
 Remembering such admonitions with gratitude, Elfonzo 
 was immediately urged by the recollection of his father s 
 family to keep moving. His steps became quicker and quick 
 er he hastened through the piny woods, dark as the forest 
 was, and with joy he very soon reached the little village of 
 repose, in whose bosom rested the boldest chivalry. His 
 close attention to every important object his modest ques 
 tions about whatever was new to him his reverence for wise 
 old age, and his ardent desire to learn many of the fine arts, 
 soon brought him into respectable notice. 
 
 One mild winter day, as he walked along the streets tow- 
 
Il6 THE ENEMY CONQUERED , 
 
 ard the Academy, which stood upon a small eminence, sur 
 rounded by native growth some venerable in its appearance, 
 others young and prosperous all seemed inviting, and 
 seemed to be the very place for learning as well as for genius 
 to spend its research beneath its spreading shades. He en 
 tered its classic walls in the usual mode of southern manners. 
 The principal of the Institution begged him to be seated, 
 and listen to the recitations that were going on. He accord 
 ingly obeyed the request, and seemed to be much pleased. 
 After the school was dismissed, and the young hearts re 
 gained their freedom, with the songs of the evening, laugh 
 ing at the anticipated pleasures of a happy home, while 
 others tittered at the actions of the past day, he addressed 
 the teacher in a tone that indicated a resolution with an un 
 daunted mind. He said he had determined to become a 
 student, if he could meet with his approbation. &quot; Sir,&quot; said 
 he, &quot; I have spent much time in the world. I have traveled 
 among the uncivilized inhabitants of America. I have met 
 with friends, and combated with foes; but none of these 
 gratify my ambition, or decide what is to be my destiny. I 
 see the learned world have an influence with the voice, of the 
 people themselves. The despoilers of the remotest kingdoms 
 of the earth, refer their differences to this class of persons. 
 This the illiterate and inexperienced little dream of; and 
 now if you will receive me as I am, with these deficiencies 
 with all my misguided opinions, I will give you my honor, 
 sir, that I will never disgrace the Institution, or those who 
 have placed you in this honorable station.&quot; The instructor, 
 who had met with many disappointments, knew how to feel 
 for a stranger who had been thus turned upon the charities 
 of an unfeeling community. He looked at him earnestly, 
 and said: &quot; Be of good cheer look forward, sir, to the high 
 destination you may attain. Remember, the more elevated 
 the mark at which you aim, the more sure, the more glorious, 
 the more magnificent the prize.&quot; From wonder to wonder, 
 his encouragement led the impatient listener. A strange 
 
OR, LOVE TRIUMPHANT. II 7 
 
 nature bloomed before him giant streams promised him 
 success gardens of hidden treasures opened to his view. All 
 this, so vividly described, seemed to gain a new witchery from 
 his glowing fancy. 
 
 In 1842, he entered the class, and made rapid progress in 
 the English and Latin departments. Indeed, he continued 
 advancing with such rapidity that he was like to become the 
 first in his class, and made such unexpected progress, and 
 was so studious, that he had almost forgotten the pictured 
 saint of his affections. The fresh wreaths of the pine and 
 cypress, had waited anxiously to drop once more the dews 
 of Heaven upon the heads of those who had so often poured 
 forth the tender emotions of their souls under its boughs. 
 He was aware of the pleasure that he had seen there. So 
 one evening, as he was returning from his reading, he con 
 cluded he would pay a visit to this enchanting spot. Little 
 did he think of witnessing a shadow of his former happiness, 
 though no doubt, he wished it might be so. He continued 
 sauntering by the road-side, meditating on the past. The 
 nearer he approached the spot, the more anxious he became. 
 At that moment, a tall female figure flitted across his path, 
 with a bunch of roses in her hand; her countenance showed 
 uncommon vivacity, with a resolute spirit; her ivory teeth 
 already appeared as she smiled beautifully, promenading, 
 while her ringlets of hair, dangled unconsciously around her 
 snowy neck. NotKing was wanting to complete her beauty. 
 The tinge of the rose was in full bloom upon her cheek; the 
 charms of sensibility and tenderness were always her asso 
 ciates. In Ambulinia s bosom dwelt a noble soul one that 
 never faded one that never was conquered. Her heart 
 yielded to no feeling but the love of Elfonzo, on whom she 
 gazed with intense delight, and to whom she felt herself 
 more closely bound, because he sought the hand of no other. 
 Elfonzo was roused from his apparent revery. His books no 
 longer were his inseparable companions his thoughts ar 
 rayed themselves to encourage him to the fielcl of victory. 
 
Il8 THE ENEMY CONQUERED; 
 
 He endeavored to speak to his supposed Ambulinia, but his 
 speech appeared not in words. No, his effort was a stream 
 of fire, that kindled his soul into a flame of admiration, and 
 carried his senses away captive. Ambulinia had disappeared, 
 to make him more mindful of his duty. As she walked 
 speedily away through the piny woods, she calmly echoed: 
 &quot; O ! Elfonzo, thou wilt now look from thy sunbeams. Thou 
 shalt now walk in a new path perhaps thy way leads through 
 darkness; but fear not, the stars foretell happiness.&quot; 
 
 Not many days afterwards, as surrounded by fragrant 
 flowers, she sat one evening at twilight, to enjoy the cool 
 breeze that whispered notes of melody along the distant 
 groves, the little birds perched on every side, as if to watch 
 the movements of their new visitor. The bells were tolling, 
 when Elfonzo silently stole along by the wild wood flowers, 
 holding in his hand his favorite instrument of music his 
 eye continually searching for Ambulinia, who hardly seemed 
 to perceive him, as she played carelessly with the songsters 
 that hopped from branch to branch. Nothing could be more 
 striking than the difference between the two. Nature seemed 
 to have given the more tender soul to Elfonzo, and the 
 stronger and more courageous to Ambulinia. A deep feeling 
 spoke from the eyes of Elfonzo, such a feeling as can only 
 be expressed by those who are blessed as admirers, and by 
 those who are able to return the same with sincerity of heart. 
 He was a few years older than Ambulinia: she had turned a 
 little into her seventeenth. He had almost grown up in the 
 Cherokee country, with the same equal proportions as one of 
 the natives. But little intimacy had existed between them 
 until the year forty-one because the youth felt that the 
 character of such a lovely girl was too exalted to inspire any 
 other feeling than that of quiet reverence. But as lovers 
 will not always be insulted, at all times and under all circum 
 stances, by the frowns and cold looks of crabbed old age, 
 which should continually reflect dignity upon those around, 
 and treat the unfortunate as well as the fortunate with a 
 
OR, LOVE TRIUMPHANT. I 19 
 
 graceful mien, he continued to use diligence and persever 
 ance. All this lighted a spark in his heart that changed his 
 whole character, and like the unyielding Deity that follows 
 the storm to check its rage in the forest, he resolves for the 
 first time to shake off his embarrassment, and return where 
 he had before only worshiped. 
 
 It could not escape Ambulinia s penetrating eye, that he 
 sought an interview with her, which she as anxiously avoided, 
 and assumed a more distant calmness than before, seemingly 
 to destroy all hope. After many efforts and struggles with 
 his own person, with timid steps the Major approached the 
 damsel, with the same caution as he would have done in a field 
 of battle. &quot; Lady Ambulinia,&quot; said he, trembling, &quot; I have 
 long desired a moment like this. I dare not let it escape. 
 I fear the consequences; yet I hope your indulgence will at 
 least hear my petition. Can you not anticipate what I would 
 say, and what I am about to express ? Will you not, like 
 Minerva, who sprung from the brain of Jupiter, release me 
 
 from thy winding chains or cure me &quot; &quot;Say no more, 
 
 Elfonzo,&quot; answered Ambulinia, with a serious look, raising 
 her hand as if she intended to swear eternal hatred against 
 the whole world, &quot;another lady in my place, would have 
 perhaps answered your question in bitter coldness. I know 
 not the little arts of my sex. I care but little for the vanity 
 of those who would chide me, and am unwilling, as well as 
 ashamed to be guilty of any thing that would lead you to 
 think all is not gold that glitters: so be not rash in your 
 resolution. It is better to repent now, than to do it in a 
 more solemn hour. Yes, I know what you would say. 1 
 know you have a costly gift for me the noblest that man can 
 make your heart! you should not offer it to one so un 
 worthy. Heaven, you know, has allowed my father s house 
 to be made a house of solitude, a home of silent obedience, 
 which my parents say, is more to be admired than big names 
 and high sounding titles. Notwithstanding all this, let me 
 speak the emotions of an honest heart allow me to say in 
 
I2O THE ENEMY CONQUERED; 
 
 the fullness of my hopes that I anticipate better days. The 
 bird may stretch its wings toward the sun, which it can never 
 reach; and flowers of the field appear to ascend in the same 
 direction, because they cannot do otherwise: but man con 
 fides his complaints to the saints in whom he believes; for 
 in their abodes of light they know no more sorrow. From 
 your confession and indicative looks, I must be that person: 
 if so, deceive not yourself.&quot; 
 
 Elfonzo replied, &quot;Pardon me, my dear madam, for my 
 frankness. I have loved you from my earliest days every 
 thing grand and beautiful hath borne the image of Ambu- 
 linia: while precipices on every hand surrounded me, your 
 guardian angel stood and beckoned me away from the deep 
 abyss. In every trial in every misfortune, I have met with 
 your helping hand; yet I never dreamed or dared to cherish 
 thy love, till a voice impaired with age encouraged the cause, 
 and declared they who acquired thy favor, should win a 
 victory. I saw how Leos worshiped thee. I felt my own un- 
 worthiness. I began to know jealousy , a strong guest indeed, 
 in my bosom, yet I could see if I gained your admiration, 
 Leos was to be my rival. I was aware that he had the in 
 fluence of your parents, and the wealth of a deceased relative, 
 which is too often mistaken for permanent and regular tran 
 quillity; yet I have determined by your permission to beg an 
 interest in your prayers to ask you to animate my drooping 
 spirits by your smiles and your winning looks; for, if you but 
 speak, I shall be conqueror, my enemies shall stagger like 
 Olympus shakes. And though earth and sea may tremble, 
 and the charioteer of the sun may forget his dashing steed; 
 yet I am assured that it is only to arm me with divine weap 
 ons, which will enable me to complete my long tried inten 
 tion.&quot; &quot; Return to yourself, Elfonzo,&quot; said Ambulinia, pleas 
 antly, &quot;a dream of vision has disturbed your intellect you 
 are above the atmosphere, dwelling in the celestial regions, 
 nothing is there that urges or hinders, nothing that brings 
 discord into our present litigation. I entreat you to conde- 
 
OR, LOVE TRIUMPHANT. 121 
 
 scend a little, and be a man, and forget it all. When Homer 
 describes the battle of the gods and noble men, fighting with 
 giants and dragons, they represent under this image, our 
 struggles with the delusions of our passions. You have 
 exalted me, an unhappy girl, to the skies, you have called 
 me a saint, and portrayed in your imagination, an angel in 
 human form. Let her remain such to you, let her continue 
 to be as you have supposed, and be assured that she will 
 consider a share in your esteem, as her highest treasure. 
 Think not that I would allure you from the path in which 
 your conscience leads you; for you know I respect the con 
 science of others, as I would die for my own. Elfonzo, if I 
 am worthy of thy love, let such conversation never again 
 pass between us. Go, seek a nobler theme! we will seek it 
 in the stream of time, as the sun set in the Tigris.&quot; As she 
 spake these words, she grasped the hand of Elfonzo, saying 
 at the same time &quot;peace and prosperity attend you my 
 hero: be up and doing.&quot; Closing her remarks with this ex 
 pression, she walked slowly away, leaving Elfonzo astonished 
 and amazed. He ventured not to follow, or detain her. 
 Here he stood alone, gazing at the stars; confounded as he 
 was, here he stood. The rippling stream rolled on at his 
 feet. Twilight had already begun to draw her sable mantle 
 over the earth, and now and then, the fiery smoke would as 
 cend from the little town which lay spread out before him. 
 The citizens seemed to be full of life and good humor; but 
 poor Elfonzo saw not a brilliant scene. No, his future life 
 stood before him, stripped of the hopes that once adorned 
 all his sanguine desires. &quot; Alas! &quot; said he, &quot; am I now Grief s 
 disappointed son at last.&quot; Ambulinia s image rose before 
 his fancy. A mixture of ambition and greatness of soul, 
 moved upon his young heart, and encouraged him to bear 
 all his crosses with the patience of a Job, notwithstanding he 
 had to encounter with so many obstacles. He still endeav 
 ored to prosecute his studies, and reasonably progressed in 
 his education, Still, he was not content; there was some- 
 
122 THE ENEMY CONQUERED; 
 
 thing yet to be done, before his happiness was complete. 
 He would visit his friends and acquaintances. They would 
 invite him to social parties, insisting that he should partake 
 of the amusements that were going on. This he enjoyed 
 tolerably well. The ladies and gentlemen were generally 
 well pleased with the Major; as he delighted all with his vio 
 lin, which seemed to have a thousand chords more sym- 
 phonious than the Muses of Apollo, and more enchanting 
 than the ghost of the Hills. He passed some days in the 
 country. During that time Leos had made many calls upon 
 Ambulinia, who was generally received with a great deal of 
 courtesy by the family. They thought him to be a young 
 man worthy of attention, though he had but little in his soul 
 to attract the attention, or even win the affections of her 
 whose graceful manners had almost made him a slave to 
 every bewitching look that fell from her eyes. Leos made 
 several attempts to tell her of his fair prospects how much 
 he loved her, and how much it would add to his bliss if he 
 could but think she would be willing to share these blessings 
 with him; but choked by his undertaking, he made himself 
 more like an inactive drone, than he did like one who bowed 
 at beauty s shrine. 
 
 Elfonzo again wends his way to the stately walls and new- 
 built village. He now determines to see the end of the proph 
 ecy which had been foretold to him. The clouds burst from 
 his sight; he believes if he can but see his Ambulinia, he can 
 open to her view the bloody altars that have been misrepre 
 sented to stigmatize his name. He knows that her breast is 
 transfixed with the sword of reason, and ready at all times to 
 detect the hidden villainy of her enemies. He resolves to 
 see her in her own home, with the consoling theme ; &quot; I 
 can but perish if I go. Let the consequences be what they 
 may,&quot; said he, &quot; if I die, it shall be contending and struggling 
 for my own rights.&quot; 
 
 Night had almost overtaken him when he arrived in town. 
 Col. Elder, a noble-hearted, high-minded and independent 
 
OR, LOVE TRIUMPHANT. 123 
 
 man, met him at his door as usual, and seized him by the 
 hand. &quot; Well, Elfonzo,&quot; said the Col., &quot; how does the world 
 use you in your efforts ? &quot; &quot;1 have no objection to the world, &quot; 
 said Elfonzo; &quot; but the people are rather singular in some of 
 their opinions.&quot; &quot;Aye, well,&quot; said the Col., &quot;you must 
 remember that creation is made up of many mysteries: just 
 take things by the right handle be always sure you know 
 which is the smooth side, before you attempt your polish 
 be reconciled to your fate, be it what it may, and never find 
 fault with your condition, unless your complaining will benefit 
 it. Perseverance is a principle that should be commendable 
 in those who have judgment to govern it. I should never 
 have been so successful in my hunting excursions, had I 
 waited till the deer by some magic dream had been drawn to 
 the muzzle of the gun, before I made an attempt to fire at 
 the game that dared my boldness in the wild forest. The 
 great mystery in hunting seems to be, a good marksman, a 
 resolute mind, a fixed determination, and my word for it, you 
 will never return home without sounding your horn with the 
 breath of a new victory. And so with every other undertak 
 ing. Be confident that your ammunition is of the right kind 
 always pull your trigger with a steady hand, and so soon 
 as you perceive a calm, touch her off, and the spoils are 
 yours.&quot; 
 
 This filled him with redoubled vigor, and he set out with a 
 stronger anxiety than ever to the home of Ambulinia. A few 
 short steps soon brought him to the door, half out of breath. 
 He rapped gently. Ambulinia, who sat in the parlor alone, 
 suspecting Elfonzo was near, ventured to the door, opened 
 it, and beheld the hero, who stood in an humble attitude, 
 bowed gracefully, and as they caught each other s looks, the 
 light of peace beamed from the eyes of Ambulinia. Elfonzo 
 caught the expression ; a halloo of smothered shouts ran 
 through every vein, and for the first time he dared to impress 
 a kiss upon her cheek. The scene was overwhelming; had 
 the temptation been less animating, he would not have ven- 
 
124 THE ENEMY CONQUERED; 
 
 tured to have acted so contrary to the desired wish of his 
 Ambulinia ; but who could have withstood the irresistible 
 temptation! What society condemns the practice, but a cold, 
 heartless, uncivilized people, that know nothing of the warm 
 attachments of refined society ? Here the dead was raised 
 to his long cherished hopes, and the lost was found. Here 
 all doubt and danger were buried in the vortex of oblivion; 
 sectional differences no longer disunited their opinions; like 
 the freed bird from the cage, sportive claps its rustling wings, 
 wheels about to Heaven in a joyful strain, and raises its notes 
 to the upper sky. Ambulinia insisted upon Elfonzo to be 
 seated, and give her a history of his unnecessary absence; 
 assuring him the family had retired, consequently they would 
 ever remain ignorant of his visit. Advancing toward him, 
 she gave a bright display of her rosy neck, and from her head 
 the ambrosial locks breathed divine fragrance; her robe hung 
 waving to his view, while she stood like a goddess confessed 
 before him. 
 
 &quot;It does seem to me, my dear sir,&quot; said Ambulinia, &quot;that 
 you have been gone an age. Oh, the restless hours I have 
 spent since I last saw you, in yon beautiful grove. There is 
 where I trifled with your feelings for the express purpose of 
 trying your attachment for me. I now find you are devoted; 
 but ah! I trust you live not unguarded by the powers of 
 Heaven. Though oft did I refuse to join my hand with thine, 
 and as oft did I cruelly mock thy entreaties with borrowed 
 shapes: yes, I feared to answer thee by terms, in words sin 
 cere and undissembled. O! could I pursue, and you had 
 leisure to hear the annals of my woes, the evening star would 
 shut Heaven s gates upon the impending day, before my tale 
 would be finished, and this night would find me soliciting 
 your forgiveness.&quot; &quot;Dismiss thy fears and thy doubts,&quot; 
 replied Elfonzo. &quot;Look O! look: that angelic look of thine, 
 bathe not thy visage in tears; banish those floods that are 
 gathering; let my confession and my presence bring thee 
 some relief.&quot; &quot;Then, indeed, I will be cheerful,&quot; said Am- 
 
OR, LOVE TRIUMPHANT. 12$ 
 
 bulinia, &quot;and I think if we will go to the exhibition this 
 evening, we certainly will see something worthy of our atten 
 tion. One of the most tragical scenes is to be acted that has 
 ever been witnessed, and one that every jealous-hearted per 
 son should learn a lesson from. It cannot fail to have a good 
 effect, as it will be performed by those who are young and 
 vigorous, and learned as well as enticing. You are aware, 
 Major Elfonzo, who are to appear on the stage, and what the 
 characters are to represent.&quot; &quot;I am acquainted with the 
 circumstances,&quot; replied Elfonzo, &quot;and as I am to be one of 
 the musicians upon that interesting occasion, I should be 
 much gratified if you would favor me with your company dur 
 ing the hours of the exercises.&quot; 
 
 &quot;What strange notions are in your mind ?&quot; inquired Am- 
 bulinia. &quot; Now I know you have something in view, and I 
 desire you to tell me why it is that you are so anxious that I 
 should continue with you while the exercises are going on; 
 though if you think I can add to your happiness and predi 
 lections, I have no particular objection to acquiesce in your 
 request. Oh, I think I foresee, now, what you anticipate.&quot; 
 &quot; And will you have the goodness to tell me what you think 
 it to be ? &quot; inquired Elfonzo. By all means, &quot; answered Ambu- 
 linia; &quot;a rival, sir, you would fancy in your own mind; but 
 let me say to you, fear not! fear not! I will be one of the 
 last persons to disgrace my sex, by thus encouraging every 
 one who may feel disposed to visit me, who may honor me 
 with their graceful bows and their choicest compliments. It 
 is true, that young men too often mistake civil politeness for 
 the finer emotions of the heart, which is tantamount to court 
 ship; but, ah! how often are they deceived, when they come 
 to test the weight of sunbeams, with those on whose strength 
 hangs the future happiness of an untried life.&quot; 
 
 The people were now rushing to the Academy with impa 
 tient anxiety; the band of music was closely followed by the 
 students; then the parents and guardians; nothing inter 
 rupted the glow of spirits which ran through every bosom, 
 
126 THE ENEMY CONQUERED; 
 
 tinged with the songs of a Virgil and the tide of a Homer. 
 Elfonzo and Ambulinia soon repaired to the scene, and for 
 tunately for them both, the house was so crowded that they 
 took their seats together in the music department, which was 
 not in view of the auditory. This fortuitous circumstance 
 added more to the bliss of the major than a thousand such 
 exhibitions would have done. He forgot that he was man! 
 music had lost its charms for him; whenever he attempted 
 to carry his part, the string of the instrument would break, 
 the bow became stubborn, and refused to obey the loud calls 
 of the audience. Here, he said, was the paradise of his 
 home, the long sought for opportunity; he felt as though he 
 could send a million supplications to the throne of heaven, 
 for such an exalted privilege. Poor Leos, who was some 
 where in the crowd, looking as attentively as if he was search 
 ing for a needle in a haystack; here he stood, wondering to 
 himself why Ambulinia was not there. &quot;Where can she be? 
 Oh! if she was only here, how I could relish the scene! El 
 fonzo is certainly not in town; but what if he is? I have got 
 the wealth, if I have not the dignity, and I am sure that the 
 squire and his lady have always been particular friends of 
 mine, and I think with this assurance I shall be able to get 
 upon the blind side of the rest of the family, and make the 
 heaven-born Ambulinia the mistress of all I possess.&quot; Then, 
 again, he would drop his head, as if attempting to solve the 
 most difficult problem in Euclid. While he was thus conjec 
 turing in his own mind, a very interesting part of the exhibi 
 tion was going on, which called the attention of all present. 
 The curtains of the stage waved continually by the repelled 
 forces that were given to them, which caused Leos to behold 
 Ambulinia leaning upon the chair of Elfonzo. Her lofty 
 beauty, seen by the glimmering of the chandelier, filled his 
 heart with rapture, he knew not how to contain himself; to 
 go where they were, would expose him to ridicule; to con 
 tinue where he was, with such an object before him, without 
 being allowed an explanation in that trying hour, would he 
 
, LOVE TRIUMPHANT. 
 
 to the great injury of his mental as well as of his physical 
 powers; and, in the name of high heaven, what must he do? 
 Finally, he resolved to contain himself as well as he con 
 veniently could, until the scene was over, and then he would 
 plant himself at the door, to arrest Ambulinia from the hands 
 of the insolent Elfonzo, and thus make for himself a more 
 prosperous field of immortality than ever was decreed by 
 Omnipotence, or ever pencil drew or artist imagined. Ac 
 cordingly he made himself sentinel, immediately after the 
 performance of the evening, retained his position apparently 
 in defiance of all the world, he waited, he gazed at every lady, 
 his whole frame trembled; here he stood, until everything 
 like human shape had disappeared from the institution, and 
 he had done nothing ; he had failed to accomplish that 
 which he so eagerly sought for. Poor, unfortunate creature ! 
 he had not the eyes of an Argus, or he might have seen his 
 Juno and Elfonzo, assisted by his friend Sigma, make their 
 escape from the window, and, with the rapidity of a race 
 horse, hurry through the blast of the storm, to the residence 
 of her father, without being recognized. He did not tarry 
 long, but assured Ambulinia the endless chain of their exist 
 ence was more closely connected than ever, since he had seen 
 the virtuous, innocent, imploring, and the constant Amelia 
 murdered by the jealous-hearted Farcillo, the accursed of the 
 land. 
 
 The following is the tragical scene, which is only intro 
 duced to show the subject matter that enabled Elfonzo to 
 come to such a determinate resolution, that nothing of 
 the kind should ever dispossess him of his true character, 
 should he be so fortunate as to succeed in his present under 
 taking. 
 
 Amelia was the wife of Farcillo, and a virtuous woman; 
 Gracia, a young lady, was her particular friend and confidant. 
 Farcillo grew jealous of Amelia, murders her, finds out that 
 he was deceived, and stabs himself. Amelia appears alone, 
 talking to herself. 
 
128 THE ENEMY CONQUERED; 
 
 A. Hail, ye solitary ruins of antiquity, ye sacred tombs and 
 silent walks! it is your aid I invoke; it is to you, my soul, 
 wrapt in deep meditation, pours forth its prayer. Here I 
 wander upon the stage of mortality, since the world hath 
 turned against me. Those whom I believed to be my friends, 
 alas! are now my enemies, planting thorns in all my paths, 
 poisoning all my pleasures, and turning the past to pain. 
 What a lingering catalogue of sighs and tears lies just before 
 me, crowding my aching bosom with the fleeting dream of 
 humanity, which must shortly terminate. And to what pur 
 pose will all this bustle of life, these agitations and emotions 
 of the heart have conduced, if it leave behind it nothing of 
 utility, if it leave no traces of improvement! Can it be that 
 I am deceived in my conclusion? No, I see that I have 
 nothing to hope for, but everything to fear, which tends to 
 drive me from the walks of time. 
 
 Oh! in this dead night, if loud winds arise, 
 To lash the surge and bluster in the skies, 
 May the west its furious rage display, 
 Toss me with storms in the watery way. 
 
 {Enter Gracia.) 
 
 G. Oh, Amelia, is it you, the object of grief, the daughter 
 of opulence, of wisdom and philosophy, that thus complain- 
 eth ? It can not be you are the child of misfortune, speaking 
 of the monuments of former ages, which were allotted not 
 for the reflection of the distressed, but for the fearless and 
 bold. 
 
 A. Not the child of poverty, Gracia, or the heir of glory 
 and peace, but of fate. Remember, I have wealth more than 
 wit can number; I have had power more than kings could 
 encompass; yet the world seems a desert; all nature appears 
 an afflictive spectacle of warring passions. This blind fatality, 
 that capriciously sports with the rules and lives of mortals, 
 tells me that the mountains will never again send forth the 
 water of their springs to my thirst. Oh, that I might be 
 
OR, LOVE TRIUMPHANT. I 29 
 
 freed and set at liberty from wretchedness! But I fear, I fear 
 this will never be. 
 
 G. Why, Amelia, this untimely grief ? What has caused 
 the sorrows that bespeak better and happier days, to thus 
 lavish out such heaps of misery? You are aware that your 
 instructive lessons embellish the mind with holy truths, by 
 wedding its attention to none but great and noble affections. 
 
 A. This, of course, is some consolation. I will ever love 
 my own species with feelings of a fond recollection, and 
 while I am studying to advance the universal philanthropy, 
 and the spotless name of my own sex, I will try to build my 
 own upon the pleasing belief, that I have accelerated the ad 
 vancement of one who whispers of departed confidence. 
 
 And I, like some poor peasant fated to reside 
 
 Remote from friends, in a forest wide. 
 Oh, see what woman s woes and human wants require, 
 Since that great day hath spread the seed of sinful fire. 
 
 G. Look up, thou poor disconsolate; you speak of quit 
 ting earthly enjoyments. Unfold thy bosom to a friend, who 
 would be willing to sacrifice every enjoyment for the restora 
 tion of that dignity and gentleness of mind, which used to 
 grace your walks, and which is so natural to yourself; not 
 only that, but your paths were strewed with flowers of every 
 hue and of every order. 
 
 With verdant green the mountains glow, 
 For thee, for thee, the lilies grow; 
 Far stretched beneath the tented hills, 
 A fairer flower the valley fills. 
 
 A. Oh, would to Heaven I could give you a short narra 
 tive of my former prospects for happiness, since you have ac 
 knowledged to be an unchangeable confidant the richest of 
 all other blessings. Oh, ye names forever glorious, ye cele 
 brated scenes, ye renowned spot of my hymeneal moments ; how 
 replete is your chart with sublime reflections! How many 
 
130 THE ENEMY CONQUERED; 
 
 profound vows, decorated with immaculate deeds, are written 
 upon the surface of that precious spot of earth, where I 
 yielded up my life of celibacy, bade youth with all its beauties 
 a final adieu, took a last farewell of the laurels that had ac 
 companied me up the hill of my juvenile career. It was then 
 I began to descend toward the valley of disappointment and 
 sorrow; it was then I cast my little bark upon a mysterious 
 ocean of wedlock, with him who then smiled and caressed 
 me, but, alas! now frowns with bitterness, and has grown 
 jealous and cold towards me, because the ring he gave me is 
 misplaced or lost. Oh, bear me, ye flowers of memory, 
 softly through the eventful history of past times; and ye 
 places that have witnessed the progression of man in the 
 circle of so many societies, aid, oh aid my recollection, while 
 I endeavor to trace the vicissitudes of a life devoted in en 
 deavoring to comfort him that I claim as the object of my 
 wishes. 
 
 Ah! ye mysterious men, of all the world, how few 
 Act just to Heaven and to your promise true 
 But He who guides the stars with a watchful eye, 
 The deeds of men lay open without disguise; 
 Oh, this alone will avenge the wrongs I bear, 
 For all the oppressed are his peculiar care. 
 
 (F. makes a slight noise.} 
 A. Who is there Farcillo ? 
 
 G. Then I must be gone. Heaven protect you. Oh, 
 Amelia, farewell, be of good cheer. 
 
 May you stand, like Olympus towers, 
 Against earth and all jealous powers! 
 May you, with loud shouts ascend on high, 
 Swift as an eagle in the upper sky. 
 
 A. Why so cold and distant to-night, Farcillo? Come, 
 let us each other greet, and forget all the past, and give 
 security for the future. 
 
 F. Security! talk to me about giving security for the 
 
OR, LOVE TRIUMPHANT. 131 
 
 future what an insulting requisition ! Have you said your 
 prayers to-night, Madam Amelia? 
 
 A. Farcillo, we sometimes forget our duty, particularly 
 when we expect to be caressed by others. 
 
 F. If you bethink yourself of any crime, or of any fault, 
 that is yet concealed from the courts of Heaven and the 
 thrones of grace, I bid you ask and solicit forgiveness for it 
 now. 
 
 A. Oh, be kind, Farcillo, don t treat me so. What do 
 you mean by all this? 
 
 F. Be kind, you say; you, madam, have forgot that kind 
 ness you owe to me, and bestowed it upon another; you shall 
 suffer for your conduct when you make your peace with your 
 God. I would not slay thy unprotected spirit. I call to 
 Heaven to be my guard and my watch I would not kill thy 
 soul, in which all once seemed just, right, and perfect; but I 
 must be brief, woman. 
 
 A. What, talk you of killing ? Oh, Farcillo, Farcillo, what 
 is the matter ? 
 
 F. Aye, I do, without doubt; mark what I say, Amelia. 
 
 A. Then, O God, O Heaven, and Angels, be propitious, 
 and have mercy upon me. 
 
 F. Amen, to that, madam, with all my heart, and with all 
 my soul. 
 
 . A. Farcillo, listen to me one moment; I hope you will not 
 kill me. 
 
 F. Kill you, aye, that I will; attest it, ye fair host of light, 
 record it, ye dark imps of hell! 
 
 A. Oh, I fear you you are fatal when darkness covers 
 your brow; yet I know not why I should fear, since I never 
 wronged you in all my life. I stand, sir, guiltless before you. 
 
 F. You pretend to say you are guiltless! Think of thy 
 sins, Amelia; think, oh think, hidden woman. 
 
 A. Wherein have I not been true to you ? That death is 
 unkind, cruel, and unnatural, that kills for loving. 
 
 F. Peace, and be still while I unfold to thee. 
 
132 THE ENEMY CONQUERED; 
 
 A. I will, Farcillo, and while I am thus silent, tell me the 
 cause of such cruel coldness in an hour like this. 
 
 F. That ring, oh that ring I so loved, and gave thee as the 
 ring of my heart; the allegiance you took to be faithful, when 
 it was presented ; the kisses and smiles with which you honored 
 it. You became tired of the donor, despised it as a plague, 
 and finally gave it to Malos, the hidden, the vile traitor. 
 
 A. No, upon my word and honor, I never did; I appeal to 
 the Most High to bear me out in this matter. Send for Ma 
 los, and ask him. 
 
 F. Send for Malos, aye ! Malos you wish to see; I thought 
 so. I knew you could not keep his name concealed. Amelia, 
 sweet Amelia, take heed, take heed of perjury; you are on 
 the stage of death, to suffer tor your si/is. 
 
 A. What, not to die 1 hope, my Farcillo, my ever beloved. 
 
 F. Yes, madam, to die a traitor s death. Shortly your 
 spirit shall take its exit; therefore confess freely thy sins, for 
 to deny tends only to make me groan under the bitter cup 
 thou hast made for me. Thou art to die with the name of 
 traitor on thy brow! 
 
 A. Then, O Lord, have mercy upon me; give me courage, 
 give me grace and fortitude to stand this hour of trial. 
 
 F. Amen, I say, with all my heart. 
 
 A. And, oh, Farcillo, will you have mercy, too? I never 
 intentionally offended you in all my life; never loved Malos, 
 never gave him cause to think so, as the high court of Jus 
 tice will acquit me before its tribunal. 
 
 F. Oh, false, perjured woman, thou dost chill my blood, 
 and makest me a demon like thyself. I saw the ring. 
 
 A. He found it, then, or got it clandestinely; send for 
 him, and let him confess the truth; let his confession be 
 sifted. 
 
 F. And you still wish to see him! I tell you, madam, he 
 hath already confessed, and thou knowest the darkness of thy 
 heart. 
 
 A. What, my deceived Farcillo, that I gave him the ring, 
 
OR, LOVE TRIUMPHANT. 133 
 
 in which all my affections were concentrated ? Oh, surely 
 not. 
 
 F. Aye, he did. Ask thy conscience, and it will speak 
 with a voice of thunder to thy soul. 
 
 A. He will not say so, he dare not, he can not. 
 
 F. No, he will not say so now, because his mouth, I trust, 
 is hushed in death, and his body stretched to tue four winds 
 of heaven, to be torn to pieces by carnivorous birds. 
 
 A. What, is he dead, and gone to the world of spirits with 
 that declaration in his mouth? Oh, unhappy man! Oh, in 
 supportable hour! 
 
 F. Yes, and had all his sighs and looks and tears been 
 lives, my great revenge could have slain them all, without the 
 least condemnation. 
 
 A. Alas! he is ushered into eternity without testing the 
 matter for which I am abused and sentenced and condemned 
 to die. 
 
 F. Cursed, infernal woman! Weepest thou for him to my 
 face ? He that hath robbed me of my peace, my energy, the 
 whole love of my life ? Could I call the fabled Hydra, I 
 would have him live and perish, survive and die, until the sun 
 itself would grow dim with age. I would make him have the 
 thirst of a Tantalus, and roll the wheel of an Ixion, until the 
 stars of heaven should quit their brilliant stations. 
 
 A. Oh, invincible God, save me! Oh, unsupportable mo 
 ment! Oh, heavy hour! Banish me, Farcillo send me 
 where no eye can ever see me, where no sound shall ever 
 greet my ear; but, oh, slay me not, Farcillo; vent thy rage 
 and thy spite upon this emaciated frame of mine, only spare 
 my life. 
 
 F. Your petitions avail nothing, cruel Amelia. 
 
 A. Oh, Farcillo, perpetrate the dark deed to-morrow; let 
 me live till then, for my past kindness to you, and it may be 
 some kind angel will show to you that I am not only the ob 
 ject of innocence, but one who never loved another but your 
 noble self. 
 
134 THE ENEMY CONQUERED; 
 
 F. Amelia, the decree has gone forth, it is to be done, and 
 that quickly; thou art to die, madam. 
 
 A. But half an hour allow me, to see my father and my 
 only child, to tell her the treachery and vanity of this world. 
 
 F. There is no alternative, there is no pause; my daughter 
 shall not see its deceptive niother die; your father shall not 
 know that his daughter fell disgraced, despised by all but her 
 enchanting Malos. 
 
 A. Oh, Farcillo, put up thy threatening dagger into its 
 scabbard; let it rest and be still, just while I say one prayer 
 for thee and for my child. 
 
 F. It is too late, thy doom is fixed, thou hast not confessed 
 to Heaven or to me, my child s protector thou art to die. 
 Ye powers of earth and heaven, protect and defend me in 
 this alone. (Stabs her, while imploring for mercy.) 
 
 A. Oh, Farcillo, Farcillo, a guiltless death I die. 
 
 F. Die! die! die! 
 
 (Gracia enters running, falls to her knees weeping, and kisses 
 Amelia.} 
 
 G. Oh, Farcillo, Farcillo! oh, Farcillo! 
 
 F. I am here, the genius of the age, and the avenger of 
 my wrongs. 
 
 G. Oh, lady, speak once more; sweet Amelia, oh speak 
 again. Gone, gone yes, forever gone! Farcillo, oh, cold- 
 hearted Farcillo, some evil fiend hath urged you to do this, 
 Farcillo. 
 
 F. Say you not so again, or you shall receive the same fate. 
 I did the glorious deed, madam beware, then, how you talk. 
 
 G. I fear not your implements of war; I will let you know 
 you have not the power to do me harm. If you have a heart 
 of triple brass, it shall be reached and melted, and thy blood 
 shall chill thy veins and grow stiff in thy arteries. Here is 
 the ring of the virtuous and innocent murdered Amelia; I 
 obtained it from Malos, who yet lives, in hopes that he will 
 survive the wound given him, and says he got it clandestinely 
 declares Amelia to be the princess of truth and virtue, in- 
 
OR, LOVE TRIUMPHANT. 135 
 
 vulnerable to anything like forgetting her first devotion to 
 thee. The world has heard of your conduct and your jeal 
 ousy, and with one universal voice declare her to be the best 
 of all in piety; that she is the star of this great universe, and 
 a more virtuous woman never lived since the wheels of time 
 began. Oh, had you waited till to-morrow, or until I had re 
 turned, some kind window would have been opened to her 
 relief. But, alas! she is gone yes, forever gone, to try the 
 realities of an unknown world ! 
 
 (Farcillo leaning over the body of Amelia.} 
 F. Malos not dead, and here is my ring! Oh, Amelia! 
 falsely, falsely murdered! Oh, bloody deed! Oh, wretch 
 that I am! Oh, angels forgive me! Oh, God, withhold thy 
 vengeance! Oh, Amelia! if Heaven would make a thousand 
 worlds like this, set with diamonds, and all of one perfect 
 chrysolite, I would not have done this for them all, I would 
 not have frowned and cursed as I did. Oh, she was heavenly 
 true, nursed in the very lap of bright angels! Cursed slave 
 that I am! Jealousy, oh! thou infernal demon! Lost, lost 
 to every sense of honor! Oh! Amelia heaven-born Amelia 
 dead, dead! Oh! oh! oh! then let me die with thee. 
 Farewell! farewell! ye world that deceived me! (Stabs him 
 self.) 
 
 Soon after the excitement of this tragical scene was over, 
 and the enlisted feeling for Amelia had grown more buoyant 
 with Elfonzo and Ambulinia, he determined to visit his re 
 tired home, and make the necessary improvements to enjoy a 
 better day; consequently he conveyed the following lines to 
 Ambulinia: 
 
 Go tell the world that hope is glowing, 
 Go bid the rocks their silence break, 
 Go tell the stars that love is glowing, 
 Then bid the hero his lover take. 
 
 In the region where scarcely the foot of man hath ever 
 
136 THE ENEMY CONQUERED; 
 
 trod, where the woodman hath not found his way, lies a 
 blooming grove, seen only by the sun when he mounts his 
 lofty throne, visited only by the light of the stars, to whom 
 are entrusted the guardianship of earth, before the sun sinks 
 to rest in his rosy bed. High cliffs of rocks surround the ro 
 mantic place, and in the small cavity of the rocky wall grows 
 the daffodil clear and pure; and as the wind blows along 
 the enchanting little mountain which surrounds the lonely 
 spot, it nourishes the flowers with the dew-drops of heaven. 
 Here is the seat of Elfonzo; darkness claims but little victory 
 over this dominion, and in vain does she spread out her 
 gloomy wings. Here the waters flow perpetually, and the 
 trees lash their tops together to bid the welcome visitor a 
 happy muse. Elfonzo during his short stay in the country, 
 had fully persuaded himself that it was his duty to bring this 
 solemn matter to an issue. A duty that he individually 
 owed; as a gentleman, to the parents of Ambulinia, a duty 
 in itself involving not only his own happiness and his own 
 standing in society, but one that called aloud the act of the 
 parties to make it perfect and complete. How he should 
 communicate his intentions to get a favorable reply, he was 
 at a loss to know; he knew not whether to address Esq. Va- 
 leer in prose or in poetiy, in a jocular or an argumentative 
 manner, or whether he should use moral suasion, legal in 
 junction, or seize arid take by reprisal; if it was to do the lat 
 ter, he would have no difficulty in deciding in his own mind, 
 but his gentlemanly honor was at stake; so he concluded to 
 address the following letter to the father and mother of Am 
 bulinia, as his address in person he knew would only aggra 
 vate the old gentleman, and perhaps his lady. 
 
 GUMMING, GA. , January 22, 1844. 
 MR. AND MRS. VALEER 
 
 Again, I resume the pleasing task of addressing you, and once 
 more beg an immediate answer to my many salutations. From 
 every circumstance that has taken place, I feel in duty bound to 
 comply with my obligations; to forfeit my word would be more 
 
OR, LOVE TRIUMPHANT. 137 
 
 than I dare do; to break my pledge, and my vows that have been 
 witnessed, sealed, and delivered in the presence of an unseen 
 Deity, would be disgraceful on my part, as well as ruinous to 
 Ambulinia. I wish no longer to be kept in suspense about this 
 matter. I wish to act gentlemanly in every particular. It is 
 true, the promises I have made, are unknown to any but Ambu 
 linia, and I think it unnecessary to here enumerate them, as they 
 who promise the most, generally perform the least. Can you for 
 a moment doubt my sincerity, or my character ? My only wish 
 is, sir, that you may calmly and dispassionately look at the situa 
 tion of the case, and if your better judgment should dictate other 
 wise, my obligations may induce me to pluck the flower that you 
 so diametrically opposed. We have sworn by the saints by the 
 gods of battle, and by that faith whereby just men are made per 
 fect, to be united. I hope, my dear sir, you will find it conven 
 ient as well as agreeable, to give me a favorable answer, with the 
 signature of Mrs. Valeer, as well as yourself. 
 With very great esteem, 
 
 your humble servant, 
 
 J. I. ELFONZO. 
 
 The moon and stars had grown pale, when Ambulinia had 
 retired to rest. A crowd of unpleasant thoughts passed 
 through her bosom. Solitude dwelt in her chamber no 
 sound from the neighboring world penetrated its stillness; it 
 appeared a temple of silence, of repose, and of mystery. At 
 that moment she heard a still voice calling her father. In 
 an instant, like the flash of lightning, a thought ran through 
 her mind, that it must be the bearer of Elfonzo s communi 
 cation. &quot;It is not a dream!&quot; she said, &quot; no, I cannot read 
 dreams. Oh! I would to Heaven I was near that glowing 
 eloquence that poetical language, it charms the mind in 
 an inexpressible manner, and warms the coldest heart.&quot; 
 While consoling herself with this strain, her father rushed 
 into her room almost frantic with rage, exclaiming: &quot; O, 
 Ambulinia ! Ambulinia ! ! undutiful, ungrateful daughter ! 
 What does this mean ? Why does this letter bear such 
 heartrending intelligence? Will you quit a father s house 
 
138 THE ENEMY CONQUERED; 
 
 with this debased wretch, without a place to lay his distracted 
 head; going up and down the country, with every novel ob 
 ject that may chance to wander through this region. He is 
 a pretty man to make love known to his superiors, and you, 
 Ambulinia, have done but little credit to yourself by honor 
 ing his visits. O wretchedness! can it be, that my hopes of 
 happiness are forever blasted! Will you not listen to a fa 
 ther s entreaties, and pay some regard to a mother s tears. I 
 know, and I do pray that God will give me fortitude to bear 
 with this sea of troubles, and rescue my daughter, my Ambu- 
 linia, as a brand from the eternal burning.&quot; &quot; Forgive me, 
 father, Oh! forgive thy child,&quot; replied Ambulinia. &quot;My 
 heart is ready to break, when I see you in this grieved state 
 of agitation. Oh! think not so meanly of me, as that I 
 mourn for my own danger. Father, I am only woman. 
 Mother, I am only the templement of thy youthful years; but 
 will suffer courageously whatever punishment you think 
 proper to inflict upon me, if you will but allow me to comply 
 with my most sacred promises if you will but give me my 
 personal right, and my personal liberty. Oh father! if your 
 generosity will but give me these, I ask nothing more. 
 When Elfonzo offered me his heart, I gave him my hand, 
 never to forsake him, and now may the mighty God banish 
 me, before I leave him in adversity. What a heart must I 
 have to rejoice in prosperity with him whose offers I have ac 
 cepted, and then, when poverty comes, haggard as it may be, 
 for me to trifle with the oracles of Heaven, and change 
 with every fluctuation that may interrupt our happiness, 
 like the politician who runs the political gauntlet for office 
 one day, and the next day, because the horizon is darkened 
 a little, he is seen running for his life, for fear he might per 
 ish in its ruins. Where is the philosophy; where is the con 
 sistency; where is the charity; in conduct like this? Be 
 happy then, my beloved father, and forget me; let the sor 
 row of parting break down the wall of separation and make 
 us equal in our feeling; let me now say how ardently I love 
 
OR, LOVE TRIUMPHANT. 
 
 you; let me kiss that age-worn cheek, and should my tears 
 bedew thy face, I will wipe them away. Oh, I never can for 
 get you; no, never, never!&quot; 
 
 &quot; Weep not, &quot;said the father, &quot; Ambulinia. I will forbid 
 Elfonzo my house, and desire that you may keep retired a 
 few days. 1 will let him know, that my friendship for my 
 family is not linked together by cankered chains; and if he 
 ever enters upon my premises again, I will send him to his 
 long home.&quot; &quot;Oh, father! let me entreat you to be calm 
 upon this occasion, and though Elfonzo may be the sport of 
 the clouds and winds; yet I feel assured, that no fate will 
 send him to the silent tomb, until the God of the Universe 
 calls him hence with a triumphant voice.&quot; 
 
 Here the father turned away, exclaiming: &quot; I will answer 
 his letter in a very few words, and you, madam, will have the 
 goodness to stay at home with your mother: and remember, 
 I am determined to protect you from the consuming fire that 
 looks so fair to your view.&quot; 
 
 GUMMING, January 22, 1844. 
 
 SIR In regard to your request, I am as I ever have been, 
 utterly opposed to your marrying into my family; and if you have 
 any regard for yourself, or any gentlemanly feeling, I hope you 
 will mention it to me no more; but seek some other one who is 
 not so far superior to you in standing. 
 
 W. W. VALEER. 
 
 When Elfonzo read the above letter, he became so much 
 depressed in spirits, that many of his friends thought it ad 
 visable to use other means to bring about the happy union. 
 &quot; Strange,&quot; said he, &quot;that the contents of this diminutive 
 letter should cause me to have such depressed feelings; but 
 there is a nobler theme than this. I know not why my mili 
 tary title is not as great as that of Squire Valeer. For my 
 life I cannot see that my ancestors are inferior to those who 
 are so bitterly opposed to my marriage with Ambulinia. I 
 know I have seen huge mountains before me, yet, when I 
 think that I know gentlemen will insult me upon this delicate 
 
I4O THE ENEMY CONQUERED; 
 
 matter, should I become angry at fools and babblers, who 
 pride themselves in their impudence and ignorance. No. 
 My equals! I know not where to find them. My inferiors! I 
 think it beneath me; and my superiors! I think it presump 
 tion: therefore, if this youthful heart is protected by any of 
 the divine rights, I never will betray my trust.&quot; 
 
 He was aware that Ambulinia had a confidence, that was 
 indeed, as firm and as resolute, as she was beautiful and in 
 teresting. He hastened to the cottage of Louisa, who re 
 ceived him in her usual mode of pleasantness, and informed 
 him that Ambulinia had just that moment left. &quot; Is it pos 
 sible? &quot; said Elfonzo. &quot; Oh murdered hour! Why did she 
 not remain and be the guardian of my secrets ? But hasten 
 and tell me, how she has stood this trying scene, and what 
 are her future determinations.&quot; &quot; You know,&quot; said Louisa, 
 &quot;Maj. Elfonzo, that you have Ambulinia s first love, which 
 is of no small consequence. She came here about twilight, 
 and shed many precious tears in consequence of her own fate 
 with yours. We walked silently, in yon little valley you see, 
 where we spent a momentary repose. She seemed to be 
 quite as determined as ever, and before we left that beautiful 
 spot she offered up a prayer to Heaven for thee.&quot; &quot;I will 
 see her then,&quot; replied Elfonzo, &quot;though legions of enemies 
 may oppose. She is mine by foreordination she is mine by 
 prophecy she is mine by her own free will, and I will rescue 
 her from the hands of her oppressors. Will you not, Miss 
 Louisa, assist me in my capture ?&quot; &quot; I will certainly, by the 
 aid of Divine Providence,&quot; answered Louisa, &quot;endeavor to 
 break those slavish chains that bind the richest of prizes; 
 though allow me, Major, to entreat you to use no harsh 
 means on this important occasion; take a decided stand, and 
 write freely to Ambulinia upon this subject, and I will see 
 that no intervening cause hinders its passage to her. God 
 alone will save a mourning people. Now is the day, and now 
 is the hour to obey a command of such valuable worth.&quot; 
 The Major felt himself grow stronger after this short inter- 
 
OR, LOVE TRIUMPHANT. 
 
 view with Louisa. He felt as if he could whip his weight in 
 wild-cats he knew he was master of his own feelings, and 
 could now write a letter that would bring this litigation to an 
 
 issue. 
 
 GUMMING, January 24, 1844. 
 DEAR AMBULINIA 
 
 We have now reached the most trying moment of our lives; 
 we are pledged not to forsake our trust; we have waited fora 
 favorable hour to come, thinking your friends would settle the 
 matter agreeably among themselves, and finally be reconciled to 
 our marriage; but as I have waited in vain, and looked in vain, I 
 have determined in my own mind to make a proposition to you, 
 though you may think it not in accordance with your station, or 
 compatible with your rank; yet, &quot;sub hoc signo vinces.&quot; You 
 know I cannot resume my visits, in consequence of the utter 
 hostility that your father has to me; therefore the consummation 
 of our union will have to be sought for in a more sublime sphere, 
 at the residence of a respectable friend of this village. You can 
 not have any scruples upon this mode of proceeding, if you will 
 but remember it emanates from one who loves you better than his 
 own life who is more than anxious to bid you welcome to a new 
 and a happy home. Your warmest associates say come; the tal 
 ented, the learned, the wise and the experienced say come; all 
 these with their friends say, come. Viewing these, with many other 
 inducements, I flatter myself that you will come to the embraces 
 of your Elfonzo; for now is the time of your acceptance and the 
 day of your liberation. You cannot be ignorant, Ambulinia, that 
 thou art the desire of my heart; its thoughts are too noble, and 
 too pure, to conceal themselves from you. I shall wait for your 
 answer to this impatiently, expecting that you will set the time 
 to make your departure, and to be in readiness at a moment s 
 warning to share the joys of a more preferable life. This will be 
 handed you by Louisa, who will take a pleasure in communicat 
 ing anything to you that may relieve your dejected spirits, and 
 will assure you that I now stand ready, willing and waiting to 
 make good my vows. \ arri) dear Ambulinia, yours 
 
 truly, and forever, 
 
 J. I. ELFONZO. 
 
142 THE ENEMY CONQUERED; 
 
 Louisa made it convenient to visit Mr. Valeer s, though 
 they did not suspect her in the least, the bearer of love 
 epistles: consequently, she was invited in the room to con 
 sole Ambulinia, where they were left alone. Ambulmia was 
 seated by a small table her head resting on her hand her 
 brilliant eyes were bathed in tears. Louisa handed her the 
 letter of Elfonzo, when another spirit animated her features 
 the spirit of renewed confidence that never fails to strengthen 
 the female character in an hour of grief and sorrow like this, 
 and as she pronounced the last accent of his name, she ex 
 claimed, &quot; and does he love me yet! I never will forget your 
 generosity, Louisa. Oh, unhappy and yet blessed Louisa! 
 may you never feel what I have felt may you never know 
 the pangs of love. Had I never loved, I never would have 
 been unhappy; but I turn to Him who can save, and if His 
 wisdom does not will my expected union, I know He will give 
 me strength to bear my lot. Amuse yourself with this little 
 book, and take it as an apology for my silence,&quot; said Ambu 
 linia, &quot; while I attempt to answer this volume of consolation.&quot; 
 &quot;Thank you,&quot; said Louisa, &quot;you are excusable upon this 
 occasion; but I pray you, Ambulinia, to be expert upon this 
 momentous subject, that there may be nothing mistrustful 
 upon my part.&quot; &quot;I will,&quot; said Ambulinia, and immediately 
 resumed her seat and addressed the following to Elfonzo: 
 
 GUMMING, GA., January 28, 1844. 
 DEVOTED ELFONZO 
 
 I bail your letter as a welcome messenger of faith, and can 
 now say truly and firmly, that my feelings correspond with yours. 
 Nothing shall be wanting on my part to make my obedience your 
 fidelity. Courage and perseverance will accomplish success. 
 Receive this as my oath, that while I grasp your hand in my own 
 imagination, we stand united before a higher tribunal than any on 
 earth. All the powers of my life, soul, and body, I devote to 
 thee. Whatever dangers may threaten me, I fear not to en 
 counter them. Perhaps I have determined upon my own de. 
 struction, by leaving the house of the best of parents; be it so, I 
 
OR, LOVE TRIUMPHANT. 143 
 
 t 
 
 flee to you; I share your destiny, faithful to the end. The day 
 that I have concluded upon for this task, is Sabbath next, when 
 the family with the citizens are generally at church. For Heav 
 en s sake let not that day pass unimproved: trust not till to-mor 
 row, it is the cheat of life the future that never comes the grave 
 of many noble births the cavern of ruined enterprise: which like 
 the lightning s flash is born, and dies, and perishes, ere the voice 
 of him who sees, can cry, behold! behold! ! You may trust to 
 what I say.no power shall tempt me to betray confidence. Suffer 
 me to add one word more. 
 
 1 will soothe thee, in all thy grief, 
 
 Beside the gloomy river; 
 And though thy love may yet be brief; 
 
 Mine is fixed forever. 
 
 Receive the deepest emotions of my heart for thy constant 
 love, and may the power of inspiration be thy guide, thy portion, 
 and thy all. In great haste, Yours faithfully, 
 
 AMBULINIA. 
 
 &quot;I now take my leave of you, sweet girl, &quot;said Louisa, 
 &quot;sincerely wishing you success on Sabbath next.&quot; When 
 Ambulinia s letter was handed to Elfonzo, he perused it with 
 out doubting its contents. Louisa charged him to make but 
 few confidants; but like most young men who happened to 
 win the heart of a beautiful girl, he was so elated with the 
 idea, that he felt as a commanding general on parade, who 
 had confidence in all, consequently gave orders to all. The 
 appointed Sabbath, with a delicious breeze and cloudless sky, 
 made its appearance. The people gathered in crowds to the 
 church the streets were filled with the neighboring citizens, 
 all marching to the house of worship. It is entirely useless 
 for me to attempt to describe the feelings of Elfonzo and 
 Ambulinia, who were silently watching the movements of the 
 multitude, apparently counting them as they entered the 
 house of God, looking for the last one to darken the door. 
 The impatience and anxiety with which they waited, and the 
 
144 THE ENEMY CONQUERED; 
 
 bliss they anticipated on the eventful day, is altogether in 
 describable. Those that have been so fortunate as to embark 
 in such a noble enterprise, know all its realities; and those 
 who have not had this inestimable privilege, will have to taste 
 its sweets, before they can tell to others its joys, its comforts, 
 and its Heaven-born worth. Immediately after Ambulinia 
 had assisted the family off to church, she took the advantage 
 of that opportunity to make good her promises. She left a 
 home of enjoyment to be wedded to one whose love had been 
 justifiable. A few short steps brought her to the presence of 
 Louisa, who urged her to make good use of her time, and 
 not to delay a moment, but to go with her to her brother s 
 house, where Elfonzo would forever make her happy. With 
 lively speed, and yet a graceful air, she entered the door and 
 found herself protected by the champion of her confidence. 
 The necessary arrangements were fast making to have the 
 two lovers united every thing was in readiness except the 
 Parson; and as they are generally very sanctimonious on 
 such occasions, the news got to the parents of Ambulinia, 
 before the everlasting knot was tied, and they both came 
 running, with uplifted hands and injured feelings, to arrest 
 their daughter from an unguarded and hasty resolution. El 
 fonzo desired to maintain his ground, but Ambulinia thought 
 it best for&quot; him to leave, to prepare for a greater contest. He 
 accordingly obeyed, as it would have been a vain endeavor 
 for him to have battled against a man who was armed with 
 deadly weapons; and besides, he could not resist the request 
 of such a pure heart. Ambulinia concealed herself in the 
 upper story of the house, fearing the rebuke of her father; 
 the door was locked, and no chastisement was now expected. 
 Esq. Valeer, whose pride was already touched, resolved to 
 preserve the dignity of his family. He entered the house al 
 most exhausted, looking wildly for Ambulinia. &quot; Amazed and 
 astonished indeed I am,&quot; said he, &quot; at a people who call 
 themselves civilized, to allow such behavior as this. Ambu 
 linia, Ambulinia! &quot; he cried, &quot; come to the calls of your first, 
 
OR, LOVE TRIUMPHANT. 
 
 H5 
 
 your best, and your only friend. I appeal to you, sir,&quot; turn 
 ing to the gentleman of the house, &quot; to know where Ambu- 
 linia has gone, or where is she?&quot; &quot; Do you mean to insult 
 me, sir, in my own house?&quot; inquired the confounded gentle 
 man. &quot;I will burst, &quot;said Mr. V., &quot;asunder every door in 
 your dwelling, in search of my daughter, if you do not speak 
 quickly, and tell me where she is. I care nothing about that 
 outcast rubbish of creation, that mean, low-lived Elfonzo, if 
 I can but obtain Ambulinia. Are you not going to open 
 this door?&quot; said he. &quot;By the Eternal that made Heaven 
 and earth! I will go about the work instantly, if it is not 
 done.&quot; The confused citizens gathered from all parts of the 
 village, to know the cause of this commotion. Some rushed 
 into the house; the door that was locked flew open, and there 
 stood Ambulinia, weeping. &quot;Father, be still,&quot; said she, 
 &quot; and I will follow thee home.&quot; But the agitated man seized 
 her, and bore her off through the gazing multitude. &quot;Fa 
 ther!&quot; she exclaimed, &quot;I humbly beg your pardon I will 
 
 be dutiful I will obey thy commands. Let the sixteen years 
 I have lived in obedience to thee, be my future security.&quot; 
 &quot; I don t like to be always giving credit, when the old score 
 is not paid up, madam; &quot; said the father. The mother fol 
 lowed almost in a state of derangement, crying and imploring 
 her to think beforehand, and ask advice from experienced 
 persons, and they would tell her it was a rash undertaking. 
 &quot;Oh!&quot; said she, &quot;Ambulinia, my daughter, did you know 
 what I have suffered did you know how many nights I have 
 whiled away in agony, in pain, and in fear, you would pity 
 the sorrows of a heartbroken mother.&quot; 
 
 &quot;Well, mother,&quot; replied Ambulinia, &quot; I know I have been 
 disobedient; I am aware that what I have done might have 
 been done much better; but oh ! what shall I do with my 
 honor? it is so dear to me; I am pledged to Elfonzo. His 
 high moral worth is certainly worth some attention; more 
 over, my vows, I have no doubt, are recorded in the book of 
 life, and must I give these all up ? must my fair hopes be 
 
146 THE ENEMY CONQUERED; 
 
 forever blasted ? Forbid it father, oh ! forbid it mother, for 
 bid it heaven.&quot; &quot; I have seen so many beautiful skies over 
 clouded,&quot; replied the mother, &quot;so many blossoms nipped by 
 the frost, that I am afraid to trust you to the care of those 
 fair days, which may be interrupted by thundering and tem 
 pestuous nights. You no doubt think as I did life s devious 
 ways were strewed with sweet scented flowers, but ah ! how 
 long they have lingered around me and took their flight in 
 the vivid hopes that laughs at the drooping victims it has 
 murdered.&quot; Elfonzo was moved at this sight. The people 
 followed on to see what was going to become of Ambulinia, 
 while he, with downcast looks, kept at a distance, until he 
 saw them enter the abode of the father, thrusting her, that 
 was the sigh of his soul, out of his presence into a solitary 
 apartment, when she exclaimed, &quot;Elfonzo! Elfonzo! oh, 
 Elfonzo ! where art thou, with all thy heroes ? haste, oh ! 
 haste, come thou to my relief. Ride on the wings of the 
 wind ! Turn thy force loose like a tempest, and roll on thy 
 army like a whirlwind, over this mountain of trouble and con 
 fusion. Oh, friends ! if any pity me, let your last efforts 
 throng upon the green hills, and come to the relief of Am 
 bulinia, who is guilty of nothing but innocent love.&quot; Elfon 
 zo called out with a loud voice, &quot; my God, can I stand this ! 
 arouse up, I beseech you, and put an end to this tyranny. 
 Come, my brave boys,&quot; said he, &quot; are you ready to go forth 
 to your duty? &quot; They stood around him. &quot; \Vho,&quot; said he, 
 &quot; will call us to arms? Where are my thunderbolts of war? 
 Speak ye, the first who will meet the foe ! Who will go for 
 ward with me in this ocean of grievous temptation ? If there 
 is one who desires to go, let him come and shake hands upon 
 the altar of devotion, and swear that he will be a hero; yes, 
 a Hector in a cause like this, which calls aloud for a speedy 
 remedy.&quot; &quot; Mine be the deed.&quot; said a young lawyer, &quot; and 
 mine alone; Venus alone shall quit her station before 1 will 
 forsake one jot or tittle of my promise to you; what is death 
 to me ? what is all this warlike army, if it is not to win a vie- 
 
OR, LOVE TRIUMPHANT. 
 
 tory? I love the sleep of the lover and the mighty; nor 
 would I give it over till the blood of my enemies should wreak 
 with that of my own. But God forbid that our fame should 
 soar on the blood of the slumberer.&quot; Mr. Valeer stands at 
 his door with the frown of a demon upon his brow, with his 
 dangerous weapon ready to strike the first man who should 
 enter his door. &quot; Who will arise and go forward through 
 blood and carnage to the rescue of my Ambulinia ? &quot; said 
 Elfonzo. &quot; All,&quot; exclaimed the multitude; and onward they 
 went, with their implements of battle. Others, of a more 
 timid nature, stood among the distant hills to see the result 
 of the contest. 
 
 Elfonzo took the lead of his band. Night arose in clouds; 
 darkness concealed the heavens; but the blazing hopes that 
 stimulated them gleamed in every bosom. All approached 
 the anxious spot; they rushed to the front of the house, and 
 with one exclamation demanded Ambulinia. &quot;Away, be 
 gone, and disturb my peace no more, &quot; said Mr. Valeer. You 
 are a set of base, insolent, and infernal rascals. Go, the 
 northern star points your path through the dim twilight of 
 the night; go, and vent your spite upon the lonely hills; pour 
 forth your love, you poor, weak minded wretch, upon your 
 idleness and upon your guitar, and your fiddle; they are fit 
 subjects for your admiration, for let me assure you, though 
 this sword and iron lever are cankered, yet they frown in 
 sleep, and let one of you dare to enter my house this night 
 and you shall have the contents and the weight of these in 
 struments.&quot; &quot; Never yet did base dishonor blur my name,&quot; 
 said Elfonzo; &quot; mine is a cause of renown; here are my war 
 riors, fear and tremble, for this night, though hell itself 
 should oppose, I will endeavor to avenge her whom thou hast 
 banished in solitude. The voice of Ambulina shall be heard 
 from that dark dungeon.&quot; At that moment Ambulinia ap 
 peared at the window above, and with a tremulous voice said, 
 live, Elfonzo ! oh ! live to raise my stone of moss ! why 
 should such language enter your heart ? why should thy voice 
 
148 THE ENEMY CONQUERED; 
 
 rend the air with such agitation ? I bid thee live, once more 
 remembering these tears of mine are shed alone for thee, in 
 this dark and gloomy vault, and should I perish under this 
 load of trouble, join the song of thrilling accents with the 
 raven above my grave, and lay this tattered frame beside the 
 banks of the Chattahoochee, or the stream of Sawney s brook ; 
 sweet will be the song of death to your Ambulinia. My ghost 
 shall visit you in the smiles of Paradise, and tell your high 
 fame to the minds of that region, which is far more prefer 
 able than this lonely cell. My heart shall speak for thee till 
 the latest hour; I know faint and broken are the sounds of 
 sorrow, yet our souls, Elfonzo, shall hear the peaceful songs 
 together. One bright name shall be ours on high, if we are 
 not permitted to be united here; bear in mind that I still 
 cherish my old sentiments, and the poet will mingle the 
 names of Elfonzo and Ambulinia in the tide of other days.&quot; 
 &quot; Fly, Elfonzo,&quot; said the voices of his united band, &quot;to the 
 wounded heart of your beloved. All enemies shall fall be 
 neath thy sword. Fly through the clefts, and the dim spark 
 shall sleep in death.&quot; Elfonzo rushes forward and strikes his 
 shield against the door, which was barricaded, to prevent any 
 intercourse. His brave sons throng around him. The people 
 pour along the streets, both male and female, to prevent or 
 witness the melancholy scene. 
 
 &quot; To arms, to arms !&quot; cried Elfonzo, &quot; here is a victory to 
 be won, a prize to be gained, that is more to me than the 
 whole world beside.&quot; &quot;It cannot be done to-night,&quot; said 
 Mr. Valeer. &quot; I bear the clang of death; my strength and 
 armor shall prevail. My Ambulinia shall rest in this hall un 
 til the break of another day, and if we fall, we fall together. 
 If we die, we die clinging to our tattered rights, and our 
 blood alone shall tell the mournful tale of a murdered daugh 
 ter and a ruined father.&quot; Sure enough, he kept watch all 
 night, and was successful in defending his house and family. 
 The bright morning gleamed upon the hills, night vanished 
 away, the major and his associates felt somewhat ashamed, 
 
OR, LOVE TRIUMPHANT. 149 
 
 that they had not been as fortunate as they expected to have 
 been; however, they still leaned upon their arms in dispersed 
 groups; some were walking the streets, others were talking 
 in the major s behalf. Many of the citizens suspended busi 
 ness, as the town presented nothing but consternation. A 
 novelty that might end in the destruction of some worthy and 
 respectable citizens. Mr. Valeer ventured in the streets, 
 though not without being well armed. Some of his friends 
 congratulated him on the decided stand he had taken, and 
 hoped he would settle the matter amicably with Elfonzo, 
 without any serious injury. &quot; Me,&quot; he replied, &quot; what, me, 
 condescend to fellowship with a coward, and a low-live, lazy, 
 undermining villain ? no, gentlemen, this cannot be; I had 
 rather be borne off, like the bubble upon the dark blue ocean, 
 with Ambulinia by my side, than to have him in the ascend 
 ing or descending line of relationship. Gentlemen,&quot; contin 
 ued he, &quot; if Elfonzo is so much of a distinguished character, 
 and is so learned in the fine arts, why do you not patronize 
 such men ? why not introduce htm into your families, as a - 
 gentleman of taste and of unequaled magnanimity? why are 
 you so very anxious that he should become a relative of 
 mine? Oh, gentlemen, I fear you yet are tainted with the 
 curiosity of our first parents, who were beguiled by the poi 
 sonous kiss of an old ugly serpent, and who, for one. apple, 
 damned 2\\ mankind. I wish to divest myself, as far as pos 
 sible, of that untutored custom. I have long since learned 
 that the perfection of wisdom, and the end of true philoso 
 phy is to proportion our wants to our possessions, our ambi 
 tion to our capacities; we will then be a happy and a virtuous 
 people.&quot; Ambulinia was sent off to prepare for a long and 
 tedious journey. Her new acquaintances had been instructed 
 by her father how to treat her, and in what manner, and to 
 keep the anticipated visit entirely secret. Elfonzo was watch 
 ing the movements of everybody; some friends had told him 
 of the plot that was laid to carry off Ambulinia. At night, 
 he rallied some two or three of his forces, and went silently 
 
150 THE ENEMY CONQUERED; 
 
 along to the stately mansion; a faint and glimmering light 
 showed .through the windows; lightly he steps to the door, 
 there were many voices rallying fresh in fancy s eye; he 
 tapped the shutter, it was opened instantly and he beheld 
 once more seated beside several ladies, the hope of all his toils; 
 he rushed toward her, she rose from her seat, rejoicing: he 
 made one mighty grasp, when Arnbulinia exclaimed, &quot; huzza 
 for Major Elfonzo ! I will defend myself and you too, with 
 this conquering instrument I hold in my hand; huzza, I say, 
 I now invoke time s broad wing to shed around us some dew- 
 drops of verdant spring.&quot; 
 
 But the hour had not come for this joyous reunion; her 
 friends struggled with Elfonzo for some time, and finally suc 
 ceeded in arresting her from his hands. He dared not injure 
 them, because they were matrons whose courage needed no 
 spur; she was snatched from the arms of Elfonzo, with so 
 much eagerness, and yet with such expressive signification, 
 that he calmly withdrew from this lovely enterprise, with an 
 ardent hope that he should he lulled to repose by the zephyrs 
 which whispered peace to his soul. Several long days and 
 nights passed unmolested, all seemed to have grounded their 
 arms of rebellion, and no callidity appeared to be going on 
 with any of the parties. Other arrangements were made by 
 Arnbulinia; she feigned herself to be entirely the votary of a 
 mother s care, and said, by her graceful smiles, that manhood 
 might claim his stern dominion in some other region, where 
 such boisterous love was not so prevalent. This gave the 
 parents a confidence that yielded some hours of sober joy; 
 they believed that Arnbulinia would now cease to love Elfon 
 zo, and that her stolen affections would now expire with her 
 misguided opinions. They therefore declined the idea of 
 sending her to a distant land. But oh! they dreamed not of 
 the rapture that dazzled the fancy of Ambulinia, who would 
 say, when alone, youth should not fly away on his rosy pin 
 ions, and leave her to grapple in the conflict with unknown 
 admirers. 
 
OR, LOVE TRIUMPHANT. 151 
 
 No frowning age shall control 
 The constant current of my soul, 
 Nor a tear from pity s eye 
 Shall check my sympathetic sigh. 
 
 With this resolution fixed in her mind, one dark and dreary 
 night, when the winds whistled and the tempest roared, she 
 received intelligence that Elfonzo was then waiting, and every 
 preparation was then ready, at the residence of Dr. Tully, 
 and for her to make a quick escape while the family were re 
 posing. Accordingly she gathered her books, went to the 
 wardrobe supplied with a variety of ornamental dressing, and 
 ventured alone in the streets to make her way to Elfonzo, 
 who was near at hand, impatiently looking and watching her 
 arrival. &quot; What forms,&quot; said she, &quot;are those rising before 
 me? What is that dark spot on the clouds?. I do wonder 
 what frightful ghost that is, gleaming on the red tempest? 
 Oh, be merciful and tell me what region you are from. O 
 tell me, ye strong spirits, or ye dark and fleeting clouds, that 
 I yet have a friend.&quot; &quot;A friend,&quot; said a low, whispering 
 voice. &quot; I am thy unchanging, thy aged, and thy disap 
 pointed mother. Oh, Ambulinia, why hast thou deceived 
 me ? Why brandish in that hand of thine a javelin of pointed 
 steel ? Why suffer that lip I have kissed a thousand times, 
 to equivocate ? My daughter, let these tears sink deep into 
 thy soul, and no longer persist in that which may be your 
 destruction and ruin. Come, my dear child, retract your 
 steps, and bear me company to your welcome home.&quot; With 
 out one retorting word, or frown from her brow, she yielded 
 to the entreaties of her mother, and with all the mildness of 
 her former character she went along with the silver lamp of 
 age, to the home of candor and benevolence. Her father 
 received her cold and formal politeness &quot; Where has Ambu 
 linia been, this blustering evening, Mrs. Valeer?&quot; inquired 
 he. &quot; Oh, she and I have been taking a solitary walk,&quot; said 
 the mother; &quot;all things, I presume, are now working for the 
 best,&quot; 
 
152 THE ENEMY CONQUERED; 
 
 Elfonzo heard this news shortly after it happened. &quot; What,&quot; 
 said he, &quot; has heaven and earth turned against me? I have 
 been disappointed times without number. Shall I despair? 
 must I give it over? Heaven s decrees will not fade; I will 
 write again I will try again; and if it traverses a gory field, 
 I pray forgiveness at the altar of justice.&quot; 
 
 DESOLATE HILL, GUMMING, GEO., 1844. 
 UNCONQUERED AND BELOVED AMBULINIA 
 
 I have only time to say to you, not to despair; thy fame shall 
 not perish; my visions are brightening before me. The whirl 
 wind s rage is past, and we now shall subdue our enemies with 
 out doubt. On Monday morning, when your friends are at 
 breakfast, they will not suspect your departure, or even mistrust 
 me being in town, as it has been reported advantageously, that I 
 have left for the west. You walk carelessly toward the academy 
 grove, where you will find me with a lightning steed, elegantly 
 equipped to bear you off where we shall be joined in wedlock with 
 the first connubial rights. Fail not to do this think not of the 
 tedious relations of our wrongs be invincible. You alone oc 
 cupy all my ambition, and I alone will make you my happy spouse, 
 with the same unimpeached veracity. I remain, forever, your 
 devoted friend and admirer, J. I. ELFONZO. 
 
 The appointed day ushered in undisturbed by any clouds; 
 nothing disturbed Ambulinia s soft beauty. With serenity 
 and loveliness she obeys the request of Elfonzo. The moment 
 the family seated themselves at the table &quot; Excuse my ab 
 sence for a short time,&quot; said she, &quot; while I attend to the plac 
 ing of those flowers, which should have been done a week 
 ago.&quot; And away she ran to the sacred grove, surrounded 
 with glittering pearls, that indicated her coming. Elfonzo 
 hails her with his silver bow and his golden harp. They 
 meet Ambulinia s countenance brightens Elfonzo leads up 
 his winged steed. &quot; Mount,&quot; said he, &quot;ye true hearted, ye 
 fearless soul the day is ours.&quot; She sprang upon the back of 
 the young thunderbolt, a brilliant star sparkles upon her head, 
 
OR, LOVE TRIUMPHANT. 
 
 S3 
 
 with one hand she grasps the reins, and with the other she 
 holds an olive-branch. &quot;Lend thy aid, ye strong winds,&quot; 
 they exclaimed, &quot;ye moon, ye sun, and all ye fair host of 
 heaven, witness the enemy conquered.&quot; &quot;Hold,&quot; said El- 
 fonzo, &quot;thy dashing steed.&quot; &quot;Ride on,&quot; said Ambulinia, 
 &quot;the voice of thunder is behind us.&quot; And onward they 
 went, with such rapidity, that they very soon arrived at Rural 
 Retreat, where they dismounted, and were united with all the 
 solemnities that usually attend such divine operations. They 
 passed the day in thanksgiving and great rejoicing, and on 
 that evening they visited their uncle, where many of their 
 friends and acquaintances had gathered to congratulate them 
 in the field of untainted bliss. The kind old gentleman met 
 them in the yard: &quot; Well,&quot; said he, &quot; I wish I may die, El- 
 fonzo, if you and Ambulinia haven t tied a knot with your 
 tongue that you can t untie with your teeth. But come in, 
 come in, never mind, all is right the world still moves on, 
 and no one has fallen in this great battle.&quot; 
 
 Happy now is their lot! Unmoved by misfortune, they 
 live among the fair beauties of the South. Heaven spreads 
 their peace and fame upon the arch of the rainbow, and 
 smiles propitiously at their triumph, through the tears of the 
 storm. 
 
ABOUT ALL KINDS OF SHIPS. 
 
 THE MODERN STEAMER AND THE OBSOLETE 
 STEAMER. 
 
 A ^ 7E are victims of one common superstition 
 the superstition that we realize the changes 
 that are daily taking place in the world because we 
 read about them and know what they are. I should 
 not have supposed that the modern ship could be 
 a surprise to me, but it is. It seems to be as much 
 of a surprise to me as it could have been if I had 
 never read anything about it. I walk about this 
 great vessel, the &quot; Havel,&quot; as she plows her way 
 through the Atlantic, and every detail that comes 
 under my eye brings up the miniature counterpart 
 of it as it existed in the little ships I crossed the 
 ocean in, fourteen, seventeen, eighteen, and twenty 
 years ago. 
 
 In the &quot;Havel &quot;one can be in several respects 
 more comfortable than he can be in the best hotels 
 on the continent of Europe. For instance, she 
 has several bath rooms, and they are as convenient 
 
ABOUT ALL KINDS OF SHIPS. 155 
 
 and as nicely equipped as the bath rooms in a fine 
 private house in America ; whereas in the hotels 
 of the continent one bath room is considered suf 
 ficient, and it is generally shabby and located in 
 some out of the way corner of the house ; more 
 over, you need to give notice so long beforehand 
 that you get over wanting a bath by the time you 
 get it. In the hotels there are a good many dif 
 ferent kinds of noises, and they spoil sleep; in 
 my room in the ship I hear no sounds. In the 
 hotels they usually shut off the electric light at 
 midnight ; in the ship one may burn it in one s 
 room all night. 
 
 In the steamer &quot; Batavia,&quot; twenty years ago, one 
 candle, set in the bulkhead between two state 
 rooms, was there to light both rooms, but did not 
 light either of them. It was extinguished at II 
 at night, and so were all the saloon lamps except 
 one or two, which were left burning to help the 
 passenger see how to break his neck trying to get 
 around in the dark. The passengers sat at table 
 on long benches made of the hardest kind of wood; 
 in the &quot; Havel&quot; one sits on a swivel chair with a 
 cushioned back to it. In those old times the din 
 ner bill of fare was always the same: a pint of some 
 simple, homely soup or other, boiled codfish and 
 potatoes, slab of boiled beef, stewed prunes for 
 
156 ABOUT ALL KINDS OF SHIPS. 
 
 dessert on Sundays &quot; dog in a blanket,&quot; on 
 Thursdays &quot; plum duff.&quot; In the modern ship the 
 menu is choice and elaborate, and is changed daily. 
 In the old times dinner was a sad occasion; in our 
 day a concealed orchestra enlivens it with charm 
 ing music. In the old days the decks were always 
 wet, in our day they are usually dry, for the 
 promenade-deck is roofed over, and a sea seldom 
 comes aboard. In a moderately disturbed sea, in 
 the old days, a landsman could hardly keep his 
 legs, but in such a sea in our day, the decks are 
 as level as a table. In the old days the inside of 
 a ship was the plainest and barrenest thing, and the 
 most dismal and uncomfortable that ingenuity could 
 devise; the modern ship is a marvel of rich and 
 costly decoration and sumptuous appointment, and 
 is equipped with every comfort and convenience 
 that money can buy. The old ships had no place 
 of assembly but the dining-room, the new ones have 
 several spacious and beautiful drawing-rooms. The 
 old ships offered the passenger no chance to smoke 
 except in the place that was called the &quot; fiddle.&quot; 
 It was a repulsive den made of rough boards (full 
 of cracks) and its office was to protect the main 
 hatch. It was grimy and dirty; there were no seats; 
 the only light was a lamp of the rancid-oil-and-rag 
 kind; the place was very cold, and never dry, for 
 
ABOUT ALL KINDS OF SHIPS. 157 
 
 the seas broke in through the cracks every little 
 while and drenched the cavern thoroughly. In the 
 modern ship there are three or four large smoking- 
 rooms, and they have card tables and cushioned 
 sofas, and are heated by steam and lighted by elec 
 tricity. There are few European hotels with such 
 smoking-rooms. 
 
 The former ships were built of wood, and had two 
 or three water-tight compartments in the hold with 
 doors in them which were often left open, particu 
 larly when the ship was going to hit a rock. The 
 modern leviathan is built of steel, and the water 
 tight bulkheads have no doors in them; they divide 
 the ship into nine or ten water-tight compartments 
 and endow her with as many lives as a cat. Their 
 complete efficiency was established by the happy 
 results following the memorable accident to the 
 City of Paris a year or two ago. 
 
 One curious thing which is at once noticeable in 
 the great modern ship is the absence of hubbub, 
 clatter, rush of feet, roaring of orders. That is all 
 gone by. The elaborate manoeuvres necessary in 
 working the vessel into her dock are conducted 
 without sound; one sees nothing of the processes, 
 hears no commands. A Sabbath stillness and so 
 lemnity reign, in place of the turmoil and racket of 
 the earlier days. The modern ship has a spacious 
 
158 ABOUT ALL KINDS OF SHIPS. 
 
 bridge fenced chin-high with sail-cloth, and floored 
 with wooden gratings; and this bridge, with its 
 fenced fore-and-aft annexes, could accommodate a 
 seated audience of a hundred and fifty men. There 
 are three steering equipments, each competent if the 
 others should break. From the bridge the ship is 
 steered, and also handled. The handling is not 
 done by shout or whistle, but by signaling with 
 patent automatic gongs. There are three tell-tales, 
 with plainly lettered dials for steering, handling 
 the engines, and for communicating orders to the 
 invisible mates who are conducting the landing of 
 the ship or casting off. The officer who is astern is 
 out of sight and too far away to hear trumpet calls; 
 but the gongs near him tell him to haul in, pay out, 
 make fast, let go, and so on; he hears, but the pas 
 sengers do not. and so the ship seems to land her 
 self without human help. 
 
 This great bridge is thirty or forty feet above the 
 water, but the sea climbs up there sometimes ; so there 
 is another bridge twelve or fifteen feet higher still, 
 for use in these emergencies. The force of water is 
 a strange thing. It slips between one s fingers like 
 air, but upon occasion it acts like a solid body and 
 will bend a thin iron rod. In the &quot; Havel &quot; it has 
 splintered a heavy oaken rail into broom-straws 
 instead of merely breaking it in two as would have 
 
ABOUT ALL KIND S OF SHIPS. 159 
 
 been the seemingly natural thing for it to do. At 
 the time of the awful Johnstown disaster, according 
 to the testimony of several witnesses, rocks were 
 carried some distance on the surface of the stupen 
 dous torrent; and at St. Helena, many years ago, a 
 vast sea-wave carried a battery of cannon forty feet 
 up a steep slope and deposited the guns there in a 
 row. But the water has done a still, stranger thing, 
 and it is one which is credibly vouched for. A 
 marlinspike is an implement, about a foot long 
 which tapers from its butt to the other extremity 
 and ends in a sharp point. It is made of iron and 
 is heavy. A wave came aboard a ship in a storm 
 and raged aft, breast high, carrying a marlinspike 
 point-first with it, and with such lightning-like 
 swiftness and force as to drive it three or four inches 
 into a sailor s body and kill him. 
 
 In all ways the ocean greyhound of to-day is im 
 posing and impressive to one who carries in his head 
 no ship-pictures of a recent date. In bulk she 
 comes near to rivaling the Ark; yet this monstrous 
 mass of steel is driven five hundred miles through 
 the waves in twenty-four hours. I remember the 
 brag run of a steamer which I traveled in once on 
 the Pacific it was two hundred and nine miles in 
 twenty-four hours; a year or so later I was a pas 
 senger in the excursion-tub &quot; Quaker City,&quot; and on 
 
l6o ABOUT ALL KINDS OF SHIPS. 
 
 one occasion in a level and glassy sea, it was claimed 
 that she reeled off two hundred and eleven miles 
 between noon and noon, but it was probably a cam 
 paign lie. That little steamer had seventy passen 
 gers, and a crew of forty men, and seemed a good 
 deal of a bee-hive. But in this present ship we are 
 living in a sort of solitude, these soft summer days, 
 with sometimes a hundred passengers scattered 
 about the spacious distances, and sometimes nobody 
 in sight at all; yet, hidden somewhere in the ves 
 sel s bulk, there are (including crew,) near eleven 
 hundred people. 
 
 The stateliest lines in the literature of the sea are 
 these: 
 
 &quot; Britannia needs no bulwark, no towers along the steep 
 Her march is o er the mountain wave, her home is on the 
 deep!&quot; 
 
 There it is. In those old times the little ships 
 climbed over the waves and wallowed down into 
 the trough on the other side; the giant ship of our 
 day does not climb over the waves, but crushes her 
 way through them. Her formidable weight and 
 mass and impetus give her mastery over any but 
 extraordinary storm -waves. 
 
 The ingenuity of man ! I mean in this passing 
 generation. To-day I found in the chart-room a 
 frame of removable wooden slats on the wall, and 
 
ABOUT ALL KINDS OF SHIPS. \ 6 1 
 
 on the slats was painted uniforming information 
 
 like this: 
 
 Trim-Tank Empty 
 
 Double- Bottom No. i Full 
 
 Double-Bottom No. 2 Full 
 
 Double-Bottom No. 3 Full 
 
 Double-Bottom No. 4 Full 
 
 While I was trying to think out what kind of a 
 game this might be and how a stranger might best 
 go to work to beat it, a sailor came in and pulled 
 out the &quot; Empty &quot; end of the first slat and put it 
 back with its reverse side to the front, marked 
 &quot; Full.&quot; He made some other change, I did not 
 notice what. The slat-frame was soon explained. 
 Its function was to indicate how the ballast in the 
 ship was distributed. The striking thing was, that 
 that ballast was water. I did not know that a ship 
 had ever been ballasted with water. I had merely 
 read, some time or other, that such an experiment 
 was to be tried. But that is the modern way: be 
 tween the experimental trial of a new thing and its 
 adoption, there is no wasted time, if the trial proves 
 its value. 
 
 On the wall, near the slat-frame, there was an 
 outline drawing of the ship, and this betrayed the 
 fact that this vessel has twenty-two considerable 
 lakes of water in her. These lakes are in her bot 
 tom; they are imprisoned between her real bottom 
 
I 62 ABOUT ALL KINDS OF SHIPS. 
 
 and a false bottom. They are separated from each 
 other, thwartships, by water-tight bulkheads, and 
 separated down the middle by a bulkhead running 
 from the bow four-fifths of the way to the stern. It 
 is a chain of lakes four hundred feet long and from 
 five to seven feet deep. Fourteen of the lakes con 
 tain fresh water brought from shore, and the aggre 
 gate weight of it is four hundred tons. The rest of 
 the lakes contain salt water six hundred and 
 eighteen tons. Upwards of a thousand tons of water, 
 altogether. 
 
 Think how handy this ballast is. The ship leaves 
 port with the lakes all full. As she lightens forward 
 through consumption of coal, she loses trim her 
 head rises, her stern sinks down. Then they spill 
 one of the sternward lakes into the sea, and the 
 trim is restored. This can be repeated right along 
 as occasion may require. Also, a lake at one end 
 of the ship can be moved to the other end by pipes 
 and steam pumps. When the sailor changed the 
 slat-frame to-day, he was posting a transference of 
 that kind. The seas had been increasing, and the 
 vessel s head needed more weighting, to keep it 
 from rising on the waves instead of plowing through 
 them; therefore, twenty-five tons of water had been 
 transferred to the bow from a lake situated well 
 toward the stern. 
 
ABOUT ALL KINDS OF SHIPS. 163 
 
 A water compartment is kept either full or empty. 
 The body of water must be compact, so that it can 
 not slosh around. A shifting ballast would not do, 
 of course. 
 
 The modern ship is full of beautiful ingenuities, 
 but it seems to me that this one is the king. I would 
 rather be the originator of that idea than of any of 
 the others. Perhaps the trim of a ship was never 
 perfectly ordered and preserved until now. A ves 
 sel out of trim will not steer, her speed is maimed, 
 she strains and labors in the seas. Poor creature, 
 for six thousand years she has had no comfort until 
 these latest days. For six thousand years she swam 
 through the best and cheapest ballast in the world, 
 the only perfect ballast, but she could n t tell her 
 master and he had not the wit to find it out for 
 himself. It is odd to reflect that there is nearly as 
 much water inside of this ship as there is outside, 
 and yet there is no danger. 
 
 NOAH S ARK. 
 
 The progress made in the great art of ship build 
 ing since Noah s time is quite noticeable. Also, the 
 looseness of the navigation laws in the time of Noah 
 is in quite striking contrast with the strictness of 
 the navigation laws of our time. It would not be 
 possible for Noah to do in our day what he was per- 
 
164 ABOUT ALL KINDS OF SHIPS. 
 
 mitted to do in his own. Experience has taught us 
 the necessity of being more particular, more con 
 servative, more careful of human life. Noah would 
 not be allowed to sail from Bremen in our day. The 
 inspectors would come and examine the Ark, and 
 make all sorts of objections. A person who knows 
 Germany can imagine the scene and the conversa 
 tion without difficulty and without missing a detail. 
 The inspector would be in a beautiful military uni 
 form; he would be respectful, dignified, kindly, the 
 perfect gentleman, but steady as the north star to 
 the last requirement of his duty. He would make 
 Noah tell him where he was born, and how old he 
 was, and what religious sect he belonged to, and the 
 amount of his income, and the grade and position he 
 claimed socially, and the name and style of his oc 
 cupation, and how many wives and children he had, 
 and how many servants, and the name, sex and 
 age of the whole of them; and if he had n t a pass 
 port he would be courteously required to get one 
 right away. Then he would take up the matter of 
 the Ark: 
 
 &quot;What is her length?&quot; 
 
 &quot; Six hundred feet.&quot; 
 
 &quot;Depth?&quot; 
 
 &quot;Sixty-five.&quot; 
 
 &quot;Beam?&quot; 
 
ABOUT ALL KINDS OF SHIPS. 165 
 
 - Fifty or sixty.&quot; 
 &quot;Built of&quot; 
 &quot;Wood.&quot; 
 
 -What kind?&quot; 
 
 &quot; Shittim and gopher.&quot; 
 
 - Interior and exterior decorations ?&quot; 
 
 - Pitched within and without.&quot; 
 &quot; Passengers ? &quot; 
 
 &quot; Eight&quot; 
 &quot;Sex?&quot; 
 
 &quot; Half male, the others female.&quot; 
 -Ages?&quot; 
 
 &quot; From a hundred years up.&quot; 
 &quot; Up to where ?&quot; 
 &quot; Six hundred.&quot; 
 
 -Ah going to Chicago; good idea, too. Sur 
 geon s name ? &quot; 
 
 -We have no surgeon.&quot; 
 
 - Must provide a surgeon. Also an undertaker 
 particularly the undertaker. These people must 
 not be left without the necessities of life at their age. 
 Crew ? &quot; 
 
 - The same eight.&quot; 
 -The same eight?&quot; 
 
 - The same eight.&quot; 
 
 - And half of them women ? &quot; 
 -Yes, sir.&quot; 
 
1 66 ABOUT ALL KINDS OF SHIPS. 
 
 &quot; Have they ever served as seamen ? &quot; 
 
 &quot; No, sir.&quot; 
 
 &quot;Have the men?&quot; 
 
 &quot;No, sir.&quot; 
 
 &quot; Have any of you ever been to sea ? &quot; 
 
 &quot; No, sir.&quot; 
 
 &quot; Where were you reared ? &quot; 
 
 &quot;On a farm all of us.&quot; 
 
 &quot; This vessel requires a crew of eight hundred 
 men, she not being a steamer. You must provide 
 them. She must have four mates and nine cooks. 
 Who is captain ? &quot; 
 
 &quot; I am, sir.&quot; 
 
 &quot; You must get a captain. Also a chambermaid. 
 Also sick nurses for the old people. Who designed 
 this vessel ? &quot; 
 
 &quot;I did, sir.&quot; 
 
 &quot;Is it your first attempt ? &quot; 
 
 &quot;Yes. sir.&quot; 
 
 &quot; I partly suspected it. Cargo ? &quot; 
 
 &quot; Animals.&quot; 
 
 &quot;Kind?&quot; 
 
 &quot;All kinds.&quot; 
 
 &quot;Wild, or tame?&quot; 
 
 &quot;Mainly wild.&quot; 
 
 &quot; Foreign, or domestic ?&quot; 
 
 &quot; Mainly foreign.&quot; 
 
ABOUT ALL KINDS OF SHIPS. 1 67 
 
 44 Principal wild ones ? &quot; 
 
 44 Megatherium, elephant, rhinoceros, lion, tiger, 
 wolf, snakes all the wild things of all climes two 
 of each.&quot; 
 
 44 Securely caged ?&quot; 
 
 44 No, not caged.&quot; 
 
 &quot; They must have iron cages. Who feeds and 
 waters the menagerie ? &quot; 
 
 44 We do.&quot; 
 
 &quot;The old people?&quot; 
 
 44 Yes, sir.&quot; 
 
 4 It is dangerous for both. The animals must 
 be cared for by a competent force. How many ani 
 mals are there ? &quot; 
 
 4&amp;lt; Big ones, seven thousand; big and little to 
 gether, ninety-eight thousand.&quot; 
 
 4 You must provide twelve hundred keepers. How 
 is the vessel lighted ? &quot; 
 
 44 By two Windows.&quot; 
 
 44 Where are they ?&quot; 
 
 &quot; Up under the eaves.&quot; 
 
 44 Two windows for a tunnel six hundred feet long 
 and sixty-five feet deep ? You must put in the elec 
 tric light a few arc lights and fifteen hundred in- 
 candescents. What do you do in case of leaks ? 
 How many pumps have you ? &quot; ^ rtv d ays 
 44 None, sir.&quot; 
 
1 68 ABOUT ALL KINDS OF SHIPS. 
 
 lt You must provide pumps. How do you get 
 water for the passengers and the animals ? &quot; 
 
 &quot; We let down the buckets from the windows.&quot; 
 
 &quot; It is inadequate. What is your motive power ? &quot; 
 
 &quot; What is my which ?&quot; 
 
 &quot; Motive power. What power do you use in driv 
 ing the ship ? &quot; 
 
 &quot;None.&quot; 
 
 &quot; You must provide sails or steam. What is the 
 nature of your steering apparatus ? &quot; 
 
 &quot; We have n t any.&quot; 
 
 &quot; Have n t you a rudder ? &quot; 
 
 &quot;No, sir.&quot; 
 
 &quot; How do you steer the vessel ? &quot; 
 
 &quot;We don t.&quot; 
 
 &quot; You must provide a rudder, and properly equip 
 it. How many anchors have you ? &quot; 
 
 &quot;None.&quot; 
 
 &quot; You must provide six. One is not permitted to 
 sail a vessel like this without that protection. How 
 many life boats have you ? &quot; 
 
 &quot;None, sir.&quot; 
 
 &quot; Provide twenty-five. How many life preserv 
 ers ? &quot; 
 
 &quot; None.&quot; 
 
 &quot; Foreign, er.ovide two thousand. How long are 
 
 &quot; Mainly foreign.&quot; &amp;gt;&quot; 
 
ABOUT ALL KINDS OF SHIPS. 169 
 
 &quot;Eleven or twelve months.&quot; 
 
 &quot; Eleven or twelve months. Pretty slow but you 
 will be in time for the Exposition. What is your 
 ship sheathed with copper ? &quot; 
 
 &quot; Her hull is bare not sheathed at all.&quot; 
 
 &quot; Dear man, the wood-boring creatures of the sea 
 would riddle her like a sieve and send her to the 
 bottom in three months. She cannot be allowed to 
 go away, in this condition; she must be sheathed. 
 Just a word more: Have you reflected that Chicago 
 is an inland city and not reachable with a vessel like 
 this ? &quot; 
 
 &quot;Shecargo? What is Shccargo ? I am not go 
 ing to Shecargo.&quot; 
 
 &quot; Indeed ? Then may I ask what the animals are 
 for ? &quot; 
 
 &quot; Just to breed others from.&quot; 
 
 &quot; Others ? Is it possible that you have n t 
 enough ?&quot; 
 
 &quot;For the present needs of civilization, yes; but 
 the rest are going to be drowned in a flood, and 
 these are to renew the supply.&quot; 
 
 &quot;A flood ?&quot; 
 
 &quot; Yes, sir.&quot; 
 
 &quot;Are you sure of that?&quot; 
 
 &quot; Perfectly sure. It is going to rain forty days and 
 forty nights.&quot; 
 
I 70 ABOUT ALL KINDS OF SHIPS. 
 
 &quot; Give yourself no concern about that, dear sir, it 
 often does that, here.&quot; 
 
 &quot; Not this kind of rain. This is going to cover the 
 mountain tops, and the earth will pass from sight.&quot; 
 
 Privately but of course not officially I am 
 sorry you revealed this, for it compels me to with 
 draw the option I gave you as to sails or steam. I 
 must require you to use steam. Your ship cannot 
 carry the hundredth part of an eleven-months water- 
 supply for the animals. You will have to have con 
 densed water.&quot; 
 
 &quot; But I tell you I am going to dip water from out 
 side with buckets.&quot; 
 
 &quot; It will not answer. Before the flood reaches the 
 mountain tops the fresh waters will have joined the 
 salt seas, and it will all be salt. You must put in 
 steam and condense your water. I will now bid you 
 good-day, sir. Did I understand you to say that 
 this was your very first attempt at ship-building?&quot; 
 
 &quot; My very first, sir, I give you the honest truth. 
 I built this Ark without having ever had the slightest 
 training or experience or instruction in marine ar 
 chitecture.&quot; 
 
 &quot; It is a remarkable work, sir, a most remarkable 
 work. I consider that it contains more features that 
 are new absolutely new and unhackneyed than are 
 to be found in any other vessel that swims the seas,&quot; 
 
ABOUT ALL KINDS OF SHIPS. I 71 
 
 &quot; This compliment does me infinite honor, dear 
 sir, infinite; and I shall cherish the memory of it 
 while life shall last. Sir, I offer my duty, and most 
 grateful thanks. Adieu !&quot; 
 
 No, the German inspector would be limitlessly 
 courteous to Noah, and would make him feel that 
 he was among friends, but he would n t let him go 
 to sea with that Ark. 
 
 COLUMBUS S CRAFT. 
 
 Between Noah s time and the time of Columbus, 
 naval architecture underwent some changes, and 
 from being unspeakably bad was improved to a 
 point which may be described as less unspeakably 
 bad. I have read somewhere, some time or other, 
 that one of Columbus s ships was a ninety-ton ves 
 sel. By comparing that ship with the ocean grey 
 hounds of our time one is able to get down to a com 
 prehension of how small that Spanish bark was, and 
 how little fitted she would be to run opposition in 
 the Atlantic passenger trade to-day. It would take 
 seventy-four of her to match the tonnage of the &quot; Ha 
 vel&quot; and carry the &quot; Havel s &quot; trip. If I remember 
 rightly, it took her ten weeks to make the passage. 
 With our ideas this would now be considered an ob 
 jectionable gait. She probably had a captain, a 
 mate, and a crew consisting of four seamen and a 
 
I 72 ABOUT ALL KINDS OF SHIPS. 
 
 boy. The crew of a modern greyhound numbers 
 two hundred and fifty persons. 
 
 Coiumbus s ship being small and very old, we 
 know that we may draw from these two facts sev 
 eral absolute certainties in the way of minor details 
 which history has left unrecorded. For instance: 
 being small, we know that she rolled and pitched 
 and tumbled, in any ordinary sea, and stood on her 
 head or her tail, or lay down with her ear in the 
 water when storm-seas ran high; also, that she was 
 used to having billows plunge aboard and wash her 
 decks from stem to stern; also, that the storm-racks 
 were on the table all the way over, and that never 
 theless a man s soup was oftener landed in his lap 
 than in his stomach; also, that the dining-saloon 
 was about ten feet by seven, dark, airless, and suffo 
 cating with oil-stench; also, that there was only 
 about one stateroom the size of a grave with a 
 tier of two or three berths in it of the dimensions 
 and comfortableness of coffins, and that when the 
 light was out, the darkness in there was so thick 
 and real that you could bite into it and and chew 
 it like gum ; also, that the only promenade was on the 
 lofty poop-deck astern (for the ship was shaped like 
 a high-quarter shoe) a streak sixteen feet long by 
 three feet wide, all the rest of the vessel being littered 
 with ropes and flooded by the seas. 
 
ABOUT ALL KINDS OF SHIPS. I 73 
 
 We know all these things to be true, from the 
 mere fact that we know the vessel was small. As 
 the vessel was old, certain other truths follow, as 
 matters of course. For instance : she was full of 
 rats; she was full of cockroaches; the heavy seas 
 made her seams open and shut like your fingers, 
 and she leaked like a basket ; where leakage is, 
 there also, of necessity, is bilge water; and where 
 bilgewater is, only the dead can enjoy life. This is 
 on account of the smell. In the presence of bilge- 
 water, Limburger cheese becomes odorless and 
 ashamed. 
 
 From these absolutely sure data we can compe 
 tently picture the daily life of the great discoverer. 
 In the early morning he paid his devotions at the 
 shrine of the Virgin. At eight bells he appeared 
 on the poop-deck promenade. If the weather was 
 chilly he came up clad from plumed helmet to 
 spurred heel in magnificent plate armor inlaid with 
 arabesques of gold, having previously warmed it at 
 the galley fire. If the weather was warm, he came 
 up in the ordinary sailor toggery of the time: great 
 slouch hat of blue velvet with a flowing brush of 
 snowy ostrich plumes, fastened on with a flashing 
 cluster of diamonds and emeralds; gold-embroidered 
 doublet of green velvet with slashed sleeves expos 
 ing under-sleeves of crimson satin; deep collar and 
 
I 74 ABOUT ALL KINDS OF SHIPS. 
 
 cuff-ruffles of rich limp lace ; trunk hose of pink 
 velvet, with big knee-knots of brocaded yellow rib 
 bon; pearl-tinted silk stockings, clocked and dain 
 tily embroidered; lemon-colored buskins of unborn 
 kid, funnel-topped, and drooping low to expose the 
 pretty stockings; deep gauntlets of finest white her 
 etic skin, from the factory of the Holy Inquisition, 
 formerly part of the person of a lady of rank; rapier 
 with sheath crusted with jewels, and hanging from a 
 broad baldric upholstered with rubies and sapphires. 
 
 He walked the promenade thoughtfully, he noted 
 the aspects of the sky and the course of the wind; 
 he kept an eye out for drifting vegetation and other 
 signs of land; he jawed the man at the wheel for 
 pastime; he got out an imitation egg and kept him 
 self in practice on his old trick of making it stand 
 on its end; now and then he hove a life-line below 
 and fished up a sailor who was drowning on the 
 quarter-deck; the rest of his watch he gaped and 
 yawned and stretched arid said he would n t make 
 the trip again to discover six Americas. For that 
 was the kind of natural human person Columbus 
 was when not posing for posterity. 
 
 At noon he took the sun and ascertained that the 
 good ship had made three hundred yards in twenty- 
 four hours, and this enabled him to win the pool. 
 Anybody can win the pool when nobody but him- 
 
ABOUT ALL KIND S OF SHIPS. 175 
 
 self has the privilege of straightening out the ship s 
 run and getting it right. 
 
 The Admiral has breakfasted alone, in state: 
 bacon, beans, and gin; at noon he dines alone in 
 state: bacon, beans, and gin; at six he sups alone 
 in state: bacon, beans, and gin; at eleven P.M. he 
 takes a night-relish, alone, in state: bacon, beans, 
 and gin. At none of these orgies is there any music ; 
 the ship-orchestra is modern. After his final meal 
 he returned thanks for his many blessings, a little 
 over-rating their value, perhaps, and then he laid 
 off his silken splendors or his gilded hardware, and 
 turned in, in his little coffin-bunk, and blew out his 
 flickering stencher and began to refresh his lungs 
 with inverted sighs freighted with the rich odors of 
 rancid oil and bilgewater. The sighs returned as 
 snores, and then the rats and the cockroaches 
 swarmed out in brigades and divisions and army 
 corps and had a circus all over him. Such was the 
 daily life of the great discoverer in his marine basket 
 during several historic weeks; and the difference 
 between his ship and his comforts and ours is visible 
 almost at a glance. 
 
 When he returned, the King of Spain, marveling, 
 said as history records: 
 
 &quot;This shipseemstobe leaky. Did she leak badly?&quot; 
 
 &quot; You shall judge for yourself, sire. I pumped 
 
I 76 ABO UT A LL KINDS OF SHIPS. 
 
 the Atlantic ocean through her sixteen times on the 
 passage.&quot; 
 
 This is General Horace Porter s account. Other 
 authorities say fifteen. 
 
 It can be shown that the differences between that 
 ship and the one I am writing these historical con 
 tributions in, are in several respects remarkable. 
 Take the matter of decoration, for instance. I have 
 been looking around again, yesterday and to-day, 
 and have noted several details which I conceive to 
 have been absent from Columbus s ship, or at least 
 slurred over and not elaborated and perfected. I 
 observe state-room doors three inches thick, of solid 
 oak and polished. I note companionway vestibules 
 with walls, doors and ceilings paneled in polished 
 hard woods, some light, some dark, all dainty and 
 delicate joiner-work, and yet every joint compact 
 and tight; with beautiful pictures inserted, com 
 posed of blue tiles some of the pictures containing 
 as many as sixty tiles and the joinings of those 
 tiles perfect. These are daring experiments. One 
 would have said that the first time the ship went 
 straining and laboring through a storm-tumbled sea 
 those tiles would gape apart and drop out. That 
 they have not done so is evidence that the joiner s art 
 has advanced a good deal since the days when ships 
 were so shackly that when a giant sea gave them a 
 
ABOUT ALL KINDS OF SHIPS. \ JJ 
 
 wrench the doors came unbolted. I find the walls of 
 the dining-saloon upholstered with mellow pictures 
 wrought in tapestry, and the ceiling aglow with 
 pictures done in oil. In other places of assembly I 
 find great panels filled with embossed Spanish 
 leather, the figures rich with gilding and bronze. 
 Everywhere I find sumptuous masses of color- 
 color, color, color color all about, color of every 
 shade and tint and variety; and as a result, the ship 
 is bright and cheery to the eye, and this cheeriness 
 invades one s spirit and contents it. To fully ap 
 preciate the force and spiritual value of this radiant 
 and opulent dream of color, one must stand outside 
 at night in the pitch dark and the rain, and look in 
 through a port, and observe it in the lavish splendor 
 of the electric lights. The old-time ships were dull, 
 plain, graceless, gloomy, and horribly depressing. 
 They compelled the blues; one could not escape 
 the blues in them. The modern idea is right: to 
 surround the passenger with conveniences, luxuries, 
 and abundance of inspiriting color. As a result, the 
 ship is the pleasantest place one can be in, except, 
 perhaps, one s home. 
 
 A VANISHED SENTIMENT. 
 
 One thing is gone, to return no more forever the 
 romance of the sea. Soft sentimentality about the sea 
 
I 78 ABOUT ALL KINDS OF SHIPS. 
 
 has retired from the activities of this life, and is 
 but a memory of the past, already remote and much 
 faded. But within the recollection of men still 
 living, it was in the breast of every individual; and 
 the further any individual lived from salt water 
 the more of it he kept in stock. It was as per 
 vasive, as universal, as the atmosphere itself. The 
 mere mention of the sea, the romantic sea, would 
 make any company of people sentimental and mawk 
 ish at once. The great majority of the songs that 
 were sung by the young people of the back settle 
 ments had the melancholy wanderer for subject and 
 his mouthings about the sea for refrain. Picnic par 
 ties paddling down a creek in a canoe when the 
 twilight shadows were gathering, always sang 
 
 Homeward bound, homeward bound 
 From a foreign shore; 
 
 and this was also a favorite in the West with the 
 passengers on sternwheel steamboats. There was 
 another 
 
 My boat is by the shore 
 
 And my bark is on the sea, 
 But before I go, Tom Moore, 
 Here s a double health to thee. 
 
 And this one, also 
 
 O, pilot, tis a fearful night, 
 There s danger on the deep. 
 
ABOUT ALL KINDS OF SHIPS. 
 
 And this 
 
 A life on the ocean wave 
 And a home on the rolling deep, 
 
 Where the scattered waters rave 
 And the winds their revels keep ! 
 
 And this 
 
 A wet sheet and a flowing sea, 
 And a wind that follows fair. 
 
 And this 
 
 My foot is on my gallant deck, 
 Once more the rover is free ! 
 
 And the &quot; Larboard Watch &quot; the person referred 
 to below is at the masthead, or somewhere up there 
 
 O, who can tell what joy he feels, 
 As o er the foam his vessel reels, 
 And his tired eyelids slumb ring fall, 
 He rouses at the welcome call 
 
 Of &quot; Larboard watch ahoy ! &quot; 
 
 Yes, and there was forever and always some jack 
 ass-voiced person braying out 
 
 Rocked in the cradle of the deep, 
 I lay me down in peace to sleep 
 
 Other favorites had these suggestive titles: &quot; The 
 Storm at Sea;&quot; &quot; The Bird at Sea;&quot; &quot;The Sailor 
 
l8o ABOUT ALL KINDS OF SHIPS. 
 
 Boy s Dream;&quot; &quot; The Captive Pirate s Lament;&quot; 
 &quot; We are far from Home on the Stormy Main &quot; and 
 so on, and so on, the list is endless. Everybody on 
 a farm lived chiefly amid the dangers of the deep on 
 those days, in fancy. 
 
 But all that is gone, now. Not a vestige of it is 
 left. The iron-clad, with her unsentimental aspect 
 and frigid attention to business, banished romance 
 from the war-marine, and the unsentimental steamer 
 has banished it from the commercial marine. The 
 dangers and uncertainties which made sea life roman 
 tic have disappeared and carried the poetic element 
 along with them. In our day the passengers never 
 sing sea-songs on board a ship, and the band never 
 plays them. Pathetic songs about the wanderer in 
 strange lands far from home, once so popular and 
 contributing such fire and color to the imagination 
 by reason of the rarity of that kind of wanderer, 
 have lost their charm and fallen silent, because 
 everybody is a wanderer in the far lands now, and 
 the interest in that detail is dead. Nobody is wor 
 ried about the wanderer; there are no perils of the 
 sea for him, there are no uncertainties. He is safer 
 in the ship than he would probably be at home, for 
 there he is always liable to have to attend some 
 friend s funeral and stand over the grave in the 
 sleet, bareheaded and that means pneumonia for 
 
ABOUT ALL KINDS OF SHIPS. 1 8 I 
 
 him, if he gets his deserts; and the uncertainties 
 of his voyage are reduced to whether he will arrive 
 on the other side in the appointed afternoon, or have 
 to wait till morning. 
 
 The first ship I was ever in was a sailing vessel. 
 She was twenty-eight days going from San Fran 
 cisco to the Sandwich Islands. But the main reason 
 for this particularly slow passage was, that she got 
 becalmed and lay in one spot fourteen days in the 
 centre of the Pacific two thousand miles from land. 
 I hear no sea-songs in this present vessel, but I heard 
 the entire layout in that one. There were a dozen 
 young people they are pretty old now, I reckon 
 and they used to group themselves on the stern, in 
 the starlight or the moonlight, every evening, and 
 sing sea-songs till after midnight, in that hot, silent, 
 motionless calm. They had no sense of humor, 
 and they always sang &quot; Homeward Bound,&quot; with 
 out reflecting that that was practically ridiculous, 
 since they were standing still and not proceeding 
 in any direction at all; and they often followed that 
 song with &quot;Are we almost there, are we almost 
 there, said the dying girl as she drew near home ? &quot; 
 It was a very pleasant company of young people, 
 and I wonder where they are now. Gone, oh, none 
 knows whither; and the bloom and grace and beauty 
 of their youth, where is that ? Among them was a 
 
1 82 ABOUT ALL KINDS OF SHIPS. 
 
 liar; all tried to reform him, but none could do it. 
 And so, gradually, he was left to himself, none of us 
 would associate with him. Many a time since, I have 
 seen in fancy that forsaken figure, leaning forlorn 
 against the taffrail, and have reflected that perhaps 
 if we had tried harder, and been more patient, we 
 might have won him from his fault and persuaded 
 him to relinquish it. But it is hard to tell; with him 
 the vice was extreme, and was probably incurable. 
 I like to think and indeed I do think that I did 
 the best that in me lay to lead him to higher and 
 better ways. 
 
 There was a singular circumstance. The ship lay 
 becalmed that entire fortnight in exactly the same 
 spot. Then a handsome breeze came fanning over 
 the sea, and we spread our white wings for flight. 
 But the vessel did not budge. The sails bellied out, 
 the gale strained at the ropes, but the vessel moved 
 not a hair s breadth from her place. The captain 
 was surprised. It was some hours before we found 
 out what the cause of the detention was. It was 
 barnacles. They collect very fast in that part of the 
 Pacific. They had fastened themselves to the ship s 
 bottom; then others had fastened themselves to the 
 first bunch, others to these, and so on, down and 
 down and down, and the last bunch had glued the 
 column hard and fast to the bottom of the sea, which 
 
ABOUT ALL KINDS OF SHIPS. 183 
 
 is five miles deep at that point. So the ship was 
 simply become the handle of a walking cane five 
 miles long yes, and no more movable by wind and 
 sail than a continent is. It was regarded by every 
 one as remarkable. 
 
 Well, the next week however, Sandy Hook is in 
 sight. 
 
PLAYING COURIER. 
 
 A TIME would come when we must go from 
 ** Aix-les-Bains to Geneva, and from thence, 
 by a series of day-long and tangled journeys, to 
 Bayreuth in Bavaria. I should have to have a cou 
 rier of course to take care of so considerable a party 
 as mine. 
 
 But I procrastinated. The time slipped along, 
 and at last I woke up one day to the fact that we 
 were ready to move and had no courier. I then re 
 solved upon what I felt was a foolhardy thing, but I 
 was in the humor of it. I said I would make the 
 first stage without help I did it. 
 
 I brought the party from Aix to Geneva by my 
 self four people. The distance was two hours and 
 more, and there was one change of cars. There 
 was not an accident of any kind, except leaving a 
 valise and some other matters on the platform, a 
 thing which can hardly be called an accident, it is 
 so common. So I offered to conduct the party all 
 
 the way to Bayreuth. 
 
 184 
 
PLAYING COURIER. 
 
 This was a blunder, though it did not seem so at 
 the time. There was more detail than I thought 
 there would be: i. Two persons whom we had left 
 in a Genevan pension some weeks before, must be 
 collected and brought to the hotel; 2. I must notify 
 the people on the Grand Quay who store trunks to 
 bring seven of our stored trunks to the hotel and carry 
 back seven which they would find piled in the lobby; 
 3- I must find out what part of Europe Bayreuth was 
 in and buy seven railway tickets for that point; 4. 
 I must send a telegram to a friend in the Nether 
 lands; 5. It was now 2 in the afternoon, and we 
 must look sharp and be ready for the first night 
 train and make sure of sleeping-car tickets; 6. I 
 must draw money at the bank. 
 
 It seemed to me that the sleeping-car tickets must 
 be the most important thing, so I went to the sta 
 tion myself to make sure; hotel messengers are not 
 always brisk people. It was a hot day and I ought 
 to have driven, but it seemed better economy to 
 walk. It did not turn out so, because I lost my way 
 and trebled the distance. I applied for the tickets, 
 and they asked me which route I wanted to go by, 
 and that embarrassed me and made me lose my 
 head, there were so many people standing around, 
 and I not knowing anything about the routes and 
 not supposing there were going to be two; so I 
 
I 86 PLAYING COURIER. 
 
 judged it best to go back and map out the road and 
 come again. 
 
 I took a cab this time, but on my way up stairs at 
 the hotel I remembered that I was out of cigars, so 
 I thought it would be well to get some while the 
 matter was in my mind. It was only round the 
 corner and I did n t need the cab. I asked the cab 
 man to wait where he was. Thinking of the tele 
 gram and trying to word it in my head, I forgot the 
 cigars and the cab, and walked on indefinitely. I 
 was going to have the hotel people send the tele 
 gram, but as I could not be far from the Post Office 
 by this time, I thought I would do it myself. But 
 it was further than I had supposed. I found the 
 place at last and wrote the telegram and handed it 
 in. The clerk was a severe-looking, fidgety man, 
 and he began to fire French questions at me in such 
 a liquid form that I could not detect the joints be 
 tween his words, and this made me lose my head 
 again. But an Englishman stepped up and said the 
 clerk wanted to know where he was to send the tele 
 gram. I could not tell him, because it was not my 
 telegram, and I explained that I was merely send 
 ing it for a member of my party. But nothing would 
 pacify the clerk but the address; so I said that if he 
 was so particular I would go back and get it. 
 
 However, I thought I would go and collect those 
 
PLAYING COURIER. 1 87 
 
 lacking two persons first, for it would be best to do 
 everything systematically and in order, and one de 
 tail at a time. Then I remembered the cab was eat 
 ing up my substance down at the hotel yonder; so 
 I called another cab and told the man to go down 
 and fetch it to the Post Office and wait till I came. 
 
 I had a long hot walk to collect those people, 
 and when I got there they could n t come with me 
 because they had heavy satchels and must have a 
 cab. I went away to find one, but before I ran 
 across any I noticed that I had reached the neigh 
 borhood of the Grand Quay at least I thought I 
 had so I judged I could save time by stepping 
 around and arranging about the trunks. I stepped 
 around about a mile, and although I did not find 
 the Grand Quay, I found a cigar shop, and remem 
 bered about the cigars. I said I was going to Bay- 
 reuth, and wanted enough for the journey. The 
 man asked me which route I was going to take. I 
 said I did not know. He said he would recommend 
 me to go by Zurich and various other places which 
 he named, and offered to sell me seven second-class 
 through tickets for $22 apiece, which would be 
 throwing off the discount which the railroads al 
 lowed him. I was already tired of riding second- 
 class on first-class tickets, so I took him up. 
 
 By and by I found Natural & Co. s storage office, 
 
1 88 PLAYING COURIER. 
 
 and told them to send seven of our trunks to the 
 hotel and pile them up in the lobby. It seemed to 
 me that I was not delivering the whole of the mes 
 sage, still it was all I could find in my head. 
 
 Next I found the bank and asked for some money, 
 but I had left my letter of credit somewhere and was 
 not able to draw. I remembered now that I must 
 have left it lying on the table where I wrote my tel 
 egram: so I got a cab and drove to the Post Office 
 and went up stairs, and they said that a letter of 
 credit had indeed been left on the table, but that it 
 was now in the hands of the police authorities, and 
 it would be necessary for me to go there and prove 
 property. They sent a boy with me, and we went 
 out the back way and walked a couple of miles and 
 found the place; and then I remembered about my 
 cabs, and asked the boy to send them to me when 
 he got back to the Post Office. It was nightfall now, 
 and the Mayor had gone to dinner. I thought I 
 would go to dinner myself, but the officer on duty 
 thought differently, and I stayed. The Mayor 
 dropped in at half past 10, but said it was too late 
 to do anything to-night come at 9:30 in the morn 
 ing. The officer wanted to keep me all night, and 
 said I was a suspicious-looking person, and prob 
 ably did not own the letter of credit, and did n t 
 know what a letter of credit was, but merely saw 
 
PLAYING COURIER. 189 
 
 the real owner leave it lying on the table, and 
 wanted to get it because I was probably a person 
 that would want anything he could get, whether it 
 was valuable or not. But the Mayor said he saw 
 nothing suspicious about me, and that I seemed a 
 harmless person and nothing the matter with me 
 but a wandering mind, and not much of that. So I 
 thanked him and he set me free, and I went home 
 in my three cabs. 
 
 As I was dog-tired and in no condition to answer 
 questions with discretion, I thought I would not dis 
 turb the Expedition at that time of night, as there 
 was a vacant room I knew of at the other end of 
 the hall; but I did not quite arrive there, as a watch 
 had been set, the Expedition being anxious about 
 me. I was placed in a galling situation. The Expe 
 dition sat stiff and forbidding on four chairs in a row, 
 with shawls and things all on, satchels and guide 
 books in lap. They had been sitting like that for 
 four hours, and the glass going down all the time. 
 Yes, and they were waiting waiting for me. It 
 seemed to me that nothing but a sudden, happily 
 contrived, and brilliant tour de force could break 
 this iron front and make a diversion in my favor; 
 so I shied my hat into the arena and followed it with 
 a skip and a jump, shouting blithely: 
 
 &quot; Ha, ha, here we all are, Mr. Merryman ! &quot; 
 
PLAYING COURIER. 
 
 Nothing could be deeper or stiller than the absence 
 of applause which followed. But I kept on; there 
 seemed no other way, though my confidence, poor 
 enough before, had got a deadly check and was in 
 effect gone. 
 
 I tried to be jocund out of a heavy heart, I tried 
 to touch the other hearts there and soften the bitter 
 resentment in those faces by throwing off bright 
 and airy fun and making of the whole ghastly thing 
 a joyously humorous incident, but this idea was not 
 well conceived. It was not the right atmosphere 
 for it. I got not one smile; not one line in those 
 offended faces relaxed; I thawed nothing of the win 
 ter that looked out of those frosty eyes. I started 
 one more breezy, poor effort, but the head of the 
 Expedition cut into the centre of it and said: 
 
 &quot; Where have you been ? &quot; 
 
 I saw by the manner of this that the idea was to 
 get down to cold business now. So I began my 
 travels but was cut short again. 
 
 &quot; Where are the two others ? We have been in 
 frightful anxiety about them.&quot; 
 
 &quot; Oh, they re all right. I was to fetch a cab. I 
 will go straight off, and - 
 
 &quot; Sit down ! Don t you know it is 1 1 o clock? 
 Where did you leave them ? &quot; 
 
 &quot; At the pension.&quot; 
 
PLAYING COURIER. 19 j 
 
 &quot; Why didn t you bring them ? &quot; 
 
 &quot; Because we could n t carry the satchels. And so 
 I thought &quot; 
 
 &quot; Thought ! You should not try to think. One 
 cannot think without the proper machinery. It is 
 two miles to that pension. Did you go there with 
 out a cab ? &quot; 
 
 &quot; I well I did n t intend to; it only happened so.&quot; 
 
 &quot; How did it happen so ? &quot; 
 
 &quot; Because I was at the Post Office and I remem 
 bered that I had left a cab waiting here, and so, to 
 stop that expense, I sent another cab to to &quot; 
 
 &quot;To what?&quot; 
 
 &quot;Well, I don t remember now, but I think the 
 new cab was to have the hotel pay the old cab, and 
 send it away.&quot; 
 
 &quot; What good would that do ? &quot; 
 
 &quot;What good would it do? It would stop the 
 expense, would n t it ? &quot; 
 
 &quot; By putting the new cab in its place to continue 
 the expense ? &quot; 
 
 I did n t say anything. 
 
 ;i Why did n t you have the new cab come back 
 for you ? &quot; 
 
 &quot; Oh, that is what I did. I remember now. Yes, 
 
 that is what I did. Because I recollect that when 
 j 
 
1 92 PLAYING COURIER. 
 
 &quot; Well, then, why did n t it come back for you ? &quot; 
 
 &quot; To the Post Office ? Why, it did.&quot; 
 
 &quot; Very well, then, how did you come to walk to 
 the pension ? &quot; 
 
 &quot; I I don t quite remember how that happened. 
 Oh, yes, I do remember now. I wrote the despatch 
 to send to the Netherlands, and- 
 
 &quot; Oh, thank goodness, you did accomplish some 
 thing ! I would n t have had you fail to send 
 what makes you look like that ! You are trying 
 to avoid my eye. That despatch is the most im 
 portant thing that You have n t sent that 
 
 despatch ! &quot; 
 
 &quot; I have n t said I did n t send it.&quot; 
 
 &quot; You don t need to. Oh, dear, I would n t have 
 had that telegram fail for anything. Why did n t 
 you send it ? &quot; 
 
 &quot; Well, you see, with so many things to do and 
 think of, I they re very particular there, and after 
 I had written the telegram 
 
 &quot;Oh, never mind, let it go, explanations can t 
 help the matter nowwhat will he think of us ? &quot; 
 
 &quot; Oh, that s all right, that s all right, he 11 think 
 we gave the telegram to the hotel people, and that 
 they &quot; 
 
 &quot;Why, certainly! Why did n t you do that? 
 There was no other rational way.&quot; 
 
PLAYING COURIER. 
 
 &quot; Yes, I know, but then I had it on my mind that 
 I must be sure and get to the bank and draw some 
 money 
 
 &quot; Well, you are entitled to some credit, after all, 
 for thinking of that, and I don t wish to be too hard 
 on you, though you must acknowledge yourself 
 that you have cost us all a good deal of trouble, 
 and some of it not necessary. How much did you 
 draw ? &quot; 
 
 &quot;Well, I I had an idea that that &quot; 
 
 &quot;That what?&quot; 
 
 4 That well, it seems to me that in the circum 
 stancesso many of us, you know, and and &quot; 
 
 What are you mooning about ? Do turn your 
 face this way and let me why, you have n t drawn 
 any money ! &quot; 
 
 &quot; Well, the banker said &quot; 
 
 &quot;Never mind what the banker said. You must 
 have had a reason of your own. Not a reason, exactly, 
 
 but something which &quot; 
 
 &quot; W T ell, then, the simple fact was that I had n t 
 my letter of credit.&quot; 
 
 &quot; Had n t your letter of credit ?&quot; 
 
 &quot; Had n t my letter of credit.&quot; 
 
 &quot; Don t repeat me like that. Where was it ? &quot; 
 
 &quot; At the Post Office.&quot; 
 
 &quot; What was it doing there ? &quot; 
 
PLAYING COURIER. 
 
 &quot; Well, I forgot it and left it there.&quot; 
 
 &quot; Upon my word, I Ve seen a good many couriers, 
 but of all the couriers that ever I 
 
 &quot; I Ve done the best I could.&quot; 
 
 &quot; Well, so you have, poor thing, and I m wrong 
 to abuse you so when you Ve been working your 
 self to death while we Ve been sitting here only 
 thinking of our vexations instead of feeling grate 
 ful for what you were trying to do for us. It will 
 all come out right. We can take the 7:30 train 
 in the morning just as well. You Ve bought the 
 tickets ? &quot; 
 
 &quot; I have and it s a bargain, too. Second class.&quot; 
 
 &quot; I m glad of it. Everybody else travels second 
 class, and we might just as well save that ruinous 
 extra charge. What did you pay ?&quot; 
 
 &quot;Twenty-two dollars apiece through to Bay- 
 reuth.&quot; 
 
 &quot;Why, I did n t know you could buy through 
 tickets anywhere but in London and Paris.&quot; 
 
 &quot;Some people can t, maybe; but some people 
 can of whom I am one of which, it appears.&quot; 
 
 &quot; It seems a rather high price.&quot; 
 
 &quot; On the contrary, the dealer knocked off his com 
 mission.&quot; 
 
 &quot;Dealer ?&quot; 
 
 &quot; Yes I bought them at a cigar shop.&quot; 
 
PLAYING COURIER. 
 
 195 
 
 &quot;That reminds me. We shall have to get up 
 pretty early, and so there should be no packing to 
 do. Your umbrella, your rubbers, your cigars 
 what is the matter ?&quot; 
 
 &quot; Hang it, I Ve left the cigars at the bank.&quot; 
 
 &quot;Just think of it! Well, your umbrella?&quot; 
 
 &quot; I 11 have that all right. There s no hurry.&quot; 
 
 &quot; What do you mean by that ?&quot; 
 
 &quot; Oh, that s all right; I 11 take care of 
 
 &quot;Where is that umbrella ?&quot; 
 
 &quot; It s just the merest step it won t take me 
 
 &quot;Where is it?&quot; 
 
 &quot; Well, I think I left it at the cigar shop; but any 
 way 
 
 &quot; Take your feet out from under that thing. It s 
 just as I expected ! Where are your rubbers ? &quot; 
 
 &quot;They well- 
 
 &quot; Where are your rubbers ?&quot; 
 
 &quot;It s got so dry now well, everybody says 
 there s not going to be another drop of 
 
 &quot; Where are your rubbers ?&quot; 
 
 &quot; Well, you see well, it was this way. First, the 
 officer said 
 
 &quot;What officer?&quot; 
 
 &quot;Police officer; but the Mayor, he &quot; 
 
 &quot;What Mayor ?&quot; 
 
 &quot; Mayor of Geneva; but I said &quot; 
 
196 PLAYING COURIER. 
 
 &quot; Wait. What is the matter with you ?&quot; 
 
 &quot;Who, me ? Nothing. They both tried to per 
 suade me to stay, and 
 
 &quot;Stay where ?&quot; 
 
 &quot;Well the fact is 
 
 &quot; Where have you been ? What s kept you out 
 till half-past ten at night? &quot; 
 
 &quot; O, you see, after I lost my letter of credit, I &quot; 
 
 &quot; You are beating around the bush a good deal. 
 Now, answer the question in just one straightfor 
 ward word. Where are those rubbers ? &quot; 
 
 &quot; They well; they re in the county jail.&quot; 
 
 I started a placating smile, but it petrified. The 
 climate was unsuitable. Spending three or four hours 
 in jail did not seem to the expedition humorous. 
 Neither did it to me, at bottom. 
 
 I had to explain the whole thing, and of course it 
 came out then that we could n t take the early train, 
 because that would leave my letter of credit in hock 
 still. It did look as if we had all got to go to bed 
 estranged and unhappy, but by good luck that was 
 prevented. There happened to be mention of the 
 trunks, and I was able to say I had attended to that 
 feature. 
 
 &quot; There, you are just as good and thoughtful and 
 painstaking and intelligent as you can be, and it s a 
 shame to find so much fault with you, and there 
 
PL A YING CO URIER. I g 7 
 
 sha n t be another word of it. You Ve done beauti 
 fully, admirably, and I m sorry I ever said one un 
 grateful word to you.&quot; 
 
 This hit deeper than some of the other things and 
 made me uncomfortable, because I was n t feeling 
 as solid about that trunk errand as I wanted to. 
 There seemed somehow to be a defect about it 
 somewhere, though I could n t put my finger on 
 it, and did n t like to stir the matter just now, it 
 being late and maybe well enough to let well 
 enough alone. 
 
 Of course there was music in the morning, when 
 it was found that we could n t leave by the early 
 train. But I had no time to wait; I got only the 
 opening bars of the overture, and then started out 
 to get my letter of credit. 
 
 It seemed a good time to look into the trunk 
 business and rectify it if it needed it, and I had a 
 suspicion that it did. I was too late. The con 
 cierge said he had shipped the trunks to Zurich the 
 evening before. I asked him how he could do that 
 without exhibiting passage tickets. 
 
 &quot; Not necessary in Switzerland. You pay for your 
 trunks and send them where you please. Nothing 
 goes free but your hand baggage.&quot; 
 
 &quot; How much did you pay on them ? &quot; 
 
 &quot; A hundred and forty francs.&quot; 
 
198 PLAYING COURIER. 
 
 &quot; Twenty-eight dollars. There s something wrong 
 about that trunk business, sure.&quot; 
 
 Next I met the porter. He said: 
 
 &quot;You have not slept well, is it not. You have 
 the worn look. If you would like a courier, a good 
 one has arrived last night, and is not engaged for 
 five days already, by the name of Ludi. We recom 
 mend him; dass heiss, the Grande Hotel Beau Ri- 
 vage recommends him.&quot; 
 
 I declined with coldness. My spirit was not 
 broken yet. And I did not like having my condi 
 tion taken notice of in this way. I was at the coun 
 ty jail by 9 o clock, hoping that the Mayor might 
 chance to come before his regular hour; but he did 
 n t. It was dull there. Every time I offered to touch 
 anything, or look at anything, or do anything, or 
 refrain from doing anything, the policeman said it 
 was &quot; defendu.&quot; I thought I would practise my 
 French on him, but he would n t have that either. 
 It seemed to make him particularly bitter to hear his 
 own tongue. 
 
 The Mayor came at last, and then there was no 
 trouble; for the minute he had convened the Su 
 preme Court which they always do whenever there 
 is valuable property in dispute and got everything 
 shipshape and sentries posted, and had prayer, by 
 the chaplain, my unsealed letter was brought and 
 
PLAYING COURIER. 1 99 
 
 opened, and there was n t anything in it but some 
 photographs: because, as I remembered now, I had 
 taken out the letter of credit so as to make room for 
 the photographs, and had put the letter in my other 
 pocket, which I proved to everybody s satisfaction 
 by fetching it out and showing it with a good deal 
 of exultation. So then the court looked at each 
 other in a vacant kind of way, and then at me, and 
 then at each other again, and finally let me go, but 
 said it was imprudent for me to be at large, and 
 asked me what my profession was. I said I was a 
 courier. They lifted up their eyes in a kind of 
 reverent way and said, 4t Du lieber Gott ! &quot; and I said 
 a word of courteous thanks for their apparent ad 
 miration and hurried off to the bank. 
 
 However, being a courier was already making me 
 a great stickler for order and system and one thing 
 at a time and each thing in its own proper turn; so 
 I passed by the bank and branched off and started 
 for the two lacking members of the expedition. A 
 cab lazied by and I took it upon persuasion. I gained 
 no speed by this, but it was a reposeful turnout and 
 I liked reposefulness. The week-long jubilations 
 over the six hundredth anniversary of the birth of 
 Swiss liberty and the Signing of the Compact was 
 at flood tide, and all the streets were clothed in 
 fluttering flags. 
 
200 PLAYING COURIER. 
 
 The horse and the driver had been drunk three 
 days and nights, and had known no stall nor bed 
 meantime. They looked as I felt dreamy and 
 seedy. But we arrived in course of time. I went 
 in and rang, and asked a housemaid to rush out the 
 lacking members. She said something which I did 
 not understand, and I returned to the chariot. The 
 girl had probably told me that those people did not 
 belong on her floor, and that it would be judicious 
 for me to go higher, and ring from floor to floor till 
 I found them; for in those Swiss flats there does not 
 seem to be any way to find the right family but to 
 be patient and guess your way along up. I calcu 
 lated that I must wait fifteen minutes, there being 
 three details inseparable from an occasion of this 
 sort: i, put on hats and come down and climb in; 
 2, return of one to get &quot;my other glove;&quot; 3, pres 
 ently, return of the other one to fetch &quot; my French 
 Verbs at a Glance.&quot; I would muse during the fifteen 
 minutes and take it easy. 
 
 A very still and blank interval ensued, and then 
 I felt a hand on my shoulder and started. The in 
 truder was a policeman. I glanced up and per 
 ceived that there was new scenery. There was a 
 good deal of a crowd, and they had that pleased 
 and interested look which such a crowd wears when 
 they see that somebody is out of luck, The horse 
 
PLAYING COURIER. 2OI 
 
 was asleep, and so was the driver, and some boys 
 had hung them and me full of gaudy decorations 
 stolen from the innumerable banner poles. It was 
 a scandalous spectacle. The officer said: 
 
 &quot; I m sorry, but we can t have you sleeping here 
 all day.&quot; 
 
 I was wounded and said with dignity: 
 &quot;I beg your pardon, I was .not sleeping; I was 
 thinking.&quot; 
 
 &quot; Well, you can think if you want to, but you Ve 
 got to think to yourself; you disturb the whole 
 neighborhood.&quot; 
 
 It was a poor joke, and it made the crowd laugh. 
 I snore at night sometimes, but it is not likely that I 
 would do such a thing in the daytime and in such a 
 place. The officer undecorated us, and seemed sorry 
 for our friendlessness, and really tried to be humane, 
 but he said we must n t stop there any longer or he 
 would have to charge us rent it was the law, he said, 
 and he went on to say in a sociable way that I was 
 looking pretty mouldy, and he wished he knew 
 
 I shut him off pretty austerely, and said I hoped 
 one might celebrate a little, these days, especially 
 when one was personally concerned. 
 
 &quot; Personally ? &quot; he asked. &quot; How ? &quot; 
 
 &quot; Because 600 years ago an ancestor of mine signed 
 the compact. 1 
 
2O2 PLAYING COURIER. 
 
 He reflected a moment, then looked me over and 
 said: 
 
 &quot; Ancestor ! It s my opinion you signed it your 
 self. For of all the old ancient relics that ever I 
 but never mind about that. What is it you are 
 waiting here for so long ? &quot; 
 
 I said: 
 
 &quot; I m not waiting here so long at all. I m waiting 
 fifteen minutes till they forget a glove and a book 
 and go back and get them.&quot; Then I told him who 
 they were that I had come for. 
 
 He was very obliging, and began to shout inqui 
 ries to the tiers of heads and shoulders projecting 
 from the windows above us. Then a woman away 
 up there sung out: 
 
 II Oh, they ? Why I got them a cab and they left 
 here long ago half-past 8, I should say.&quot; 
 
 It was annoying. I glanced at my watch, but 
 did n t say anything. The officer said: 
 
 &quot; It is a quarter of 12, you see. You should have 
 inquired better. You have been asleep three-quar 
 ters of an hour, and in such a sun as this. You are 
 baked baked black. It is wonderful. And you 
 will miss your train, perhaps. You interest me 
 greatly. What is your occupation ? &quot; 
 
 I said I was a courier. It seemed to stun him, 
 and before he could come to we were gone. 
 
PL A YING COURIER. 
 
 203 
 
 When I arrived in the third story of the hotel I 
 found our quarters vacant. I was not surprised. 
 The moment a courier takes his eye off his tribe 
 they go shopping. The nearer it is to train time 
 the surer they are to go. I sat down to try and 
 think out what I had best do next, but presently the 
 hall boy found me there, and said the expedition 
 had gone to the station half an hour before. It was 
 the first time I had known them to do a rational 
 thing, and it was very confusing. This is one of 
 the things that make a courier s life so difficult and 
 uncertain. Just as matters are going the smooth 
 est, his people will strike a lucid interval, and down 
 go all his arrangements to wreck and ruin. 
 
 The train was to leave at 12 noon sharp. It was 
 now ten minutes after 12. I could be at the station 
 in ten minutes. I saw I had no great amount of lee 
 way, for this was the lightning express, and on the 
 Continent the lightning expresses are pretty fastidi 
 ous about getting away some time during the adver 
 tised day. My people were the only ones remaining 
 in the waiting room ; everybody else had passed 
 through and &quot;mounted the train,&quot; as they say in 
 those regions. They were exhausted with nervous 
 ness and fret, but I comforted them and heartened 
 them up, and we made our rush. 
 
 But no; we were out of luck again. The door- 
 
2O4 PLA YING COURIER. 
 
 keeper was not satisfied with the tickets. He ex 
 amined them cautiously, deliberately, suspiciously; 
 then glared at me awhile, and after that he called 
 another official. The two examined the tickets and 
 called another official. These called others, and the 
 convention discussed and discussed, and gesticulated 
 and carried on until I begged that they would consider 
 how time was flying, and just pass a few resolutions 
 and let us go. Then they said very courteously that 
 there was a defect in the tickets, and asked me 
 where I got them. 
 
 I judged I saw what the trouble was, now. You 
 see, I had bought the tickets in a cigar shop, and of 
 course the tobacco smell was on them ; without 
 doubt the thing they were up to was to work the 
 tickets through the Custom House and to collect 
 duty on that smell. So I resolved to be perfectly 
 frank; it is sometimes the best way. I said: 
 
 &quot;Gentlemen, I will not deceive you. These rail 
 way tickets 
 
 &quot; Ah, pardon, monsieur ! These are not railway 
 tickets.&quot; 
 
 &quot; Oh,&quot; I said, &quot;is that the defect ?&quot; 
 
 &quot; Ah, truly yes, monsieur. These are lottery 
 tickets, yes ; and it is a lottery which has been 
 drawn two years ago.&quot; 
 
 I affected to be greatly amused ; it is all one 
 
PLAYING COURIER. 2O5 
 
 can do in such circumstances ; it is all one can 
 do, and yet there is no value in it; it deceives no 
 body, and you can see that everybody around pities 
 you and is ashamed of you. One of the hardest sit 
 uations in life, I think, is to be full of grief and a 
 sense of defeat and shabbiness that way, and yet 
 have to put on an outside of archness and gaiety, 
 while all the time you know that your own expedi 
 tion, the treasures of your heart, and whose love and 
 reverence you are by the custom of our civilization 
 entitled to, are being consumed with humiliation 
 before strangers to see you earning and getting a 
 compassion, which is a stigma, a brand a brand 
 which certifies you to be oh, anything and every 
 thing which is fatal to human respect. 
 
 I said cheerily, it was all right, just one of those 
 little accidents that was likely to happen to any 
 body I would have the right tickets in two min 
 utes, and we would catch the train yet, and, more 
 over, have something to laugh about all through 
 the journey. I did get the tickets in time, all 
 stamped and complete, but then it turned out that 
 I could n t take them, because in taking so much 
 pains about the two missing members, I had skipped 
 the bank and had n t the money. So then the train 
 left, and there did n t seem to be anything to do but 
 go back to the hotel, which we did; but it was kind 
 
2O6 PLAYING COURIER. 
 
 of melancholy and not much said. I tried to start 
 a few subjects, like scenery and transubstantiation, 
 and those sorts of things, but they did n t seem to 
 hit the weather right. 
 
 We had lost our good rooms, but we got some 
 others which were pretty scattering, but would 
 answer. I judged things would brighten now, but 
 the Head of the Expedition said &quot;Send up the 
 trunks.&quot; It made me feel pretty cold. There 
 was a doubtful something about that trunk busi 
 ness. I was almost sure of it. I was going to 
 suggest- 
 But a wave of the hand sufficiently restrained me, 
 and I was informed that we would now camp for 
 three days and see if we could rest up. 
 
 I said all right, never mind ringing; I would go 
 down and attend to the trunks myself. I got a cab 
 and went straight to Mr. Charles Natural s place, 
 and asked what order it was I had left there. 
 &quot; To send seven trunks to the hotel.&quot; 
 &quot; And were you to bring any back ? &quot; 
 &quot;No.&quot; 
 
 &quot; You are sure I did n t tell you to bring back 
 seven that would be found piled in the lobby ? &quot; 
 &quot;Absolutely sure you did n t.&quot; 
 &quot;Then the whole fourteen are gone to Zurich 
 or Jericho or somewhere, and there is going to be 
 
PL A YING CO VRIER. 2OJ 
 
 more debris around that hotel when the Expedi 
 tion &quot; 
 
 I did n t finish, because my mind was getting to 
 be in a good deal of a whirl, and when you are that 
 way you think you have finished a sentence when 
 you have n t, and you go mooning and dreaming 
 away, and the first thing you know you get run 
 over by a dray or a cow or something. 
 
 I left the cab there I forgot it and on my way 
 back I thought it all out and concluded to resign, 
 because otherwise I should be nearly sure to be dis 
 charged. But I did n t believe it would be a good 
 idea to resign in person; I could do it by message. 
 So I sent for Mr. Ludi and explained that there was 
 a courier going to resign on account of incompati 
 bility or fatigue or something, and as he had four 
 or five vacant days, I would like to insert him 
 into that vacancy if he thought he could fill it. 
 When everything was arranged I got him to go up 
 and say to the Expedition that, owing to an error 
 made by Mr. Natural s people, we were out of 
 trunks here, but would have plenty in Zurich, and 
 we d better take the first train, freight, gravel, or 
 construction, and move right along. 
 
 He attended to that and came down with an invi 
 tation for me to go up yes, certainly; and, while 
 we walked along over to the bank to get money, 
 
2OS PLAYING COURIER 
 
 and collect my cigars and tobacco, and to the cigar 
 shop to trade back the lottery tickets and get my 
 umbrella, and to Mr. Natural s to pay that cab and 
 send it away, and to the county jail to get my rub 
 bers and leave p. p. c. cards for the Mayor and Su 
 preme Court, he described the weather to me that 
 was prevailing on the upper levels there with the 
 Expedition, and I saw that I was doing very well 
 where I was. 
 
 I stayed out in the woods till 4 P. M., to let the 
 weather moderate, and then turned up at the station 
 just in time to take the 3 o clock express for Zurich 
 along with the Expedition, now in the hands of 
 Ludi, who conducted its complex affairs with little 
 apparent effort or inconvenience. 
 
 Well, I had worked like a slave while I was in 
 office, and done the very best I knew how; yet all 
 that these people dwelt upon or seemed to care to 
 remember was the defects of my administration, 
 not its creditable features. They would skip over 
 a thousand creditable features to remark upon and 
 reiterate and fuss about just one fact, till it seemed 
 to me they would wear it out; and not much of a 
 fact, either, taken by itself the fact that I elected 
 myself courier in Geneva, and put in work enough 
 to carry a circus to Jerusalem, and yet never even 
 got my gang out of the town. I finally said I did n t 
 
PLAYING COURIER. 209 
 
 wish to hear any more about the subject, it made 
 me tired. And I told them to their faces that I 
 would never be a courier again to save anybody s 
 life. And if I live long enough I 11 prove it. I 
 think it s a difficult, brain racking, overworked, and 
 thoroughly ungrateful office, and the main bulk of 
 its wages is a sore heart and a bruised spirit 
 
THE GERMAN CHICAGO 
 
 T FEEL lost, in Berlin. It has no resemblance 
 -- to the city I had supposed it was. There was 
 once a Berlin which I would have known, from de 
 scriptions in books the Berlin of the last century 
 and the beginning of the present one: a dingy city 
 in a marsh, with rough streets, muddy and lantern- 
 lighted, dividing straight rows of ugly houses all 
 alike, compacted into blocks as square and plain 
 and uniform and monotonous and serious as so many 
 dry-goods boxes. But that Berlin has disappeared. 
 It seems to have disappeared totally, and left no 
 sign. The bulk of the Berlin of to-day has about 
 it no suggestion of a former period. The site it 
 stands on has traditions and a history, but the city 
 itself has no traditions and no history. It is a new 
 city; the newest I have ever seen. Chicago would 
 seem venerable beside it; for there many old-look 
 ing districts in Chicago, but not many in Berlin. 
 The main mass of the city looks as if it had been 
 
 2IO 
 
THE GERMAN CHICAGO. 211 
 
 built last week, the rest of it has a just perceptibly 
 graver tone, and looks as if it might be six or even 
 eight months old. 
 
 The next feature that strikes one is the spacious 
 ness, the roominess of the city. There is no other 
 city, in any country, whose streets are so generally 
 wide. Berlin is not merely a city of wide streets, it 
 is the city of wide streets. As a wide-street city it 
 has never had its equal, in any age of the world. 
 &quot; Unter den Linden&quot; is three streets in one; the 
 Potsdamerstrasse is bordered on both sides by side 
 walks which are themselves wider than some of the 
 historic thoroughfares of the old European capitals; 
 there seem to be no lanes or alleys; there are no 
 short-cuts; here and there, where several important 
 streets empty into a common centre, that centre s 
 circumference is of a magnitude calculated to bring 
 that word spaciousness into your mind again. The 
 park in the middle of the city is so huge that it calls 
 up that expression once more. 
 
 The next feature that strikes one is the straight- 
 ness of the streets. The short ones have n t so much 
 as a waver in them; the long ones stretch out to 
 prodigious distances and then tilt a little to the 
 right or left, then stretch out on another immense 
 reach as straight as a ray of light. A result of this 
 arrangement is, that at night Berlin is an inspiring 
 
212 THE GERMAN CHICAGO. 
 
 sight to see. Gas and the electric light are employed 
 with a wasteful liberality, and so, wherever one goes, 
 he has always double ranks of brilliant lights stretch 
 ing far down into the night on every hand, with 
 here and there a wide and splendid constellation of 
 them spread out over an intervening &quot; Platz;&quot; and 
 between the interminable double procession of street 
 lamps one has the swarming and darting cab lamps, 
 a lively and pretty addition to the fine spectacle, 
 for they counterfeit the rush and confusion and 
 sparkle of an invasion of fire-flies. 
 
 There is one other noticeable feature the abso 
 lutely level surface of the site of Berlin. Berlin to 
 capitulate is newer to the eye than is any other 
 city and also blonder of complexion and tidier; no 
 other city has such an air of roominess, freedom 
 from crowding; no other city has so many straight 
 streets; and with Chicago it contests the chromo 
 for flatness of surface and for phenomenal swiftness 
 of growth. Berlin is the European Chicago. The 
 two cities have about the same population say a 
 million and a half. I cannot speak in exact terms, 
 because I only know what Chicago s population was 
 week before last; but at that time it was about a mil 
 lion and a half. Fifteen years ago Berlin and Chi 
 cago were large cities, of course, but neither of them 
 was the giant it now is. 
 
THE GERMAN CHICAGO. 213 
 
 But now the parallels fail. Only parts of Chicago 
 are stately and beautiful, whereas all of Berlin is 
 stately and substantial, and it is not merely in parts 
 but uniformly beautiful. There are buildings in Chi 
 cago that are architecturally finer than any in Ber 
 lin, I think, but what I have just said above is still 
 true. These two flat cities would lead the world 
 for phenomenal good health if London were out of 
 the way. As it is, London leads, by a point or two. 
 Berlin s death rate is only nineteen in the thousand. 
 Fourteen years ago the rate was a third higher. 
 
 Berlin is a surprise in a great many ways in a 
 multitude of ways, to speak strongly and be exact. 
 It seems to be the most governed city in the world, 
 but one must admit that it also seems to be the best 
 governed. Method and system are observable on 
 every hand in great things, in little things, in all 
 details, of whatsoever size. And it is not method 
 and system on paper, and there an end it is method 
 and system in practice. It has a rule for every 
 thing, and puts the rule in force; puts it in force 
 against the poor and powerful alike, without favor 
 or prejudice. It deals with great matters and minute 
 particulars with equal faithfulness, and with a plod 
 ding and pains - taking diligence and persistency 
 which compel admiration and sometimes reret 
 
 &amp;gt; 
 
 There are several taxes, and they are collected 
 
214 THE GERMAN CHICAGO. 
 
 quarterly. Collected is the word; they are not 
 merely levied, they are collected every time. This 
 makes light taxes. It is in cities and countries where 
 a considerable part of the community shirk pay 
 ment that taxes have to be lifted to a burdensome 
 rate. Here the police keep coming, calmly and 
 patiently until you pay your tax. They charge you 
 five or ten cents per visit, after the first call. By 
 experiment you will find that they will presently 
 collect that money. 
 
 In one respect the million and a half of Berlin s 
 population are like a family: the head of this large 
 family knows the names of its several members, and 
 where the said members are located, and when and 
 where they were born, and what they do for a liv 
 ing, and what their religious brand is. Whoever 
 comes to Berlin must furnish these particulars to 
 the police immediately; moreover, if he knows how 
 long he is going to stay, he must say so. If he take 
 a house he will be taxed on the rent and taxed also 
 on his income. He will not be asked what his in 
 come is, and so he may save some lies for home con 
 sumption. The police will estimate his income from 
 the house-rent he pays, and tax him on that basis. 
 
 Duties on imported articles are collected wi h 
 inflexible fidelity, be the sum large or little; but 
 the methods are gentle, prompt, and full of the spirit 
 
THE GERMAN CHICAGO. 215 
 
 of accommodation. The postman attends to the 
 whole matter for you, in cases where the article 
 comes by mail, and you have no trouble and suffer 
 no inconvenience. The other day a friend of mine 
 was informed that there was a package in the post- 
 office for him, containing a lady s silk belt with gold 
 clasp, and a gold chain to hang a bunch of keys on. 
 In his first agitation he was going to try to bribe the 
 postman to chalk it through, but acted upon his sober 
 second thought and allowed the matter to take its 
 proper and regular course. In a little while the 
 postman brought the package and made these sev 
 eral collections: duty on the silk belt, 7^ cents; 
 duty on the gold chain, 10 cents; charge for fetch 
 ing the package, 5 cents. These devastating im 
 posts are exacted for the protection of German home 
 industries. 
 
 The calm, quiet, courteous, cussed persistence of 
 the police is the most admirable thing I have en 
 countered on this side. They undertook to persuade 
 me to send and get a passport for a Swiss maid whom 
 we had brought with us, and at the end of six weeks 
 of patient, tranquil, angelic daily effort they suc 
 ceeded. I was not intending to give them trouble, 
 but I was lazy and I thought they would get tired. 
 Meanwhile they probably thought I would be the 
 one. It turned out just so. 
 
2l6 THE GERMAN CHICAGO. 
 
 One is not allowed to build unstable, unsafe or 
 unsightly houses in Berlin; the result is this comely 
 and conspicuously stately city, with its security from 
 conflagrations and break-downs. It is built of archi 
 tectural Gibraltars. The Building Commissioners 
 inspect while the building is going up. It has been 
 found that this is better than to wait till it fall s down. 
 These people are full of whims. 
 
 One is not allowed to cram poor folk into cramped 
 and dirty tenement houses. Each individual must 
 have just so many cubic feet of room-space, and 
 sanitary inspections are systematic and frequent. 
 
 Everything is orderly. The fire brigade march 
 in rank, curiously uniformed, and so grave is their 
 demeanor that they look like a Salvation Army 
 under conviction of sin. People tell me that when 
 a fire alarm is sounded, the firemen assemble calmly, 
 answer to their names when the roll is called, then 
 proceed to the fire. There they are ranked up, mil 
 itary fashion, and told orTin detachments by the chief, 
 who parcels out to the detachments the several parts 
 of the work which they are to undertake in putting 
 out that fire. This is all done with low-voiced pro 
 priety, and strangers think these people are working 
 a funeral, As a rule the fire is confined to a single 
 floor in these great masses of bricks and masonry, 
 and consequently there is little or no interest at- 
 
THE GERMAN CHICAGO. 21 J 
 
 taching to a fire here for the rest of the occupants 
 of the house. 
 
 There are abundance of newspapers in Berlin, and 
 there was also a newsboy, but he died. At intervals 
 of half a mile on the thoroughfares there are booths, 
 and it is at these that you buy your papers. There 
 are plenty of theatres, but they do not advertise in 
 a loud way. There are no big posters of any kind, 
 and the display of vast type and of pictures of act 
 ors and performance framed on a big scale and done 
 in rainbow colors is a thing unknown. If the big 
 show-bills existed there would be no place to ex 
 hibit them; for there are no poster-fences, and one 
 would not be allowed to disfigure dead walls with 
 them. Unsightly things are forbidden here; Ber 
 lin is a rest to the eye. 
 
 And yet the saunterer can easily find out what 
 is going on at the theatres. All over the city, at 
 short distances apart, there are neat round pillars 
 eighteen feet high and about as thick as a hogs 
 head, and on these the little black and white 
 theatre bills and other notices are posted. One 
 generally finds a group around each pillar read 
 ing these things. There are plenty of things in 
 Berlin worth importing to America. It is these 
 that I have particularly wished to make a note 
 of, When Buffalo Bill was here his biggest poster 
 
2l8 THE GERMAN CHICAGO. 
 
 was probably not larger than the top of an ordinary 
 trunk. 
 
 There is a multiplicity of clean and comfortable 
 horse-cars, but whenever you think you know where a 
 car is going to, you would better stop ashore, because 
 that car is not going to that place at all. The car- 
 routes are marvelously intricate, and often the driv 
 ers get lost and are not heard of for years. The 
 signs on the cars furnish no details as to the course 
 of the journey; they name the end of it, and then 
 experiment around to see how much territory they 
 can cover before they get there. The conductor 
 will collect your fare over again, every few miles, 
 and give you a ticket which he has n t apparently 
 kept any record of, and you keep it till an inspector 
 comes aboard by and by and tears a corner off it 
 (which he does not keep,) then you throw the ticket 
 away and get ready to buy another. Brains are of 
 no value when you are trying to navigate Berlin in 
 a horse car. When the ablest of Brooklyn s editors 
 was here on a visit he took a horse car in the early 
 morning and wore it out trying to go to a point in 
 the centre of the city. He was on board all day and 
 spent many dollars in fares, and then did not arrive 
 at the place which he had started to go to. This is 
 the most thorough way to see Berlin, but it is also 
 the most expensive. 
 
THE GERMAN CHICAGO. 
 
 But there are excellent features about the car sys 
 tem, nevertheless. The car will not stop for you to 
 get on or off, except at certain places a block or two 
 apart where there is a sign to indicate that that is 
 a halting station. This system saves many bones. 
 There are twenty places inside the car; when these 
 seats are filled, no more can enter. Four or five 
 persons may stand on each platform the law de 
 crees the number and when these standing places 
 are all occupied the next applicant is refused. As 
 there is no crowding, and as no rowdyism is allowed, 
 women stand on the platforms as well as men; they 
 often stand there when there are vacant seats inside, 
 for these places are comfortable, there being little 
 or no jolting. A native tells me that when the first 
 car was put on, thirty or forty years ago, the public 
 had such a terror of it that they did n t feel safe in 
 side of it or outside either. They made the com 
 pany keep a man at every crossing with a red flag 
 in his hand. Nobody would travel in the car except 
 convicts on the way to the gallows. This made 
 business in only one direction, and the car had to 
 go back light. To save the company, the city gov 
 ernment transferred the convict cemetery to the 
 other end of the line. This made traffic in both 
 directions and kept the company from going under. 
 This sounds like some of the information which trav- 
 
22O THE GERMAN CHICAGO. 
 
 eling foreigners are furnished with in America. To 
 my mind it has a doubtful ring about it. 
 
 The first-class cab is neat and trim, and has leather- 
 cushion seats and a swift horse. The second-class 
 cab is an ugly and lubberly vehicle, and is always 
 old. It seems a strange thing that they have never 
 built any new ones. Still, if such a thing were done 
 everybody that had time to flock would flock to see 
 it, and that would make a crowd, and the police do 
 not like crowds and disorder here. If there were an 
 earthquake in Berlin the police would take charge 
 of it and conduct it in that sort of orderly way that 
 would make you think it was a prayer meeting. 
 That is what an earthquake generally ends in, but 
 this one would be different from those others; it 
 Avould be kind of soft and self-contained, like a re 
 publican praying for a mugwump. 
 
 For a course (a quarter of an hour or less), one 
 pays twenty-five cents in a first-class cab. and fifteen 
 cents in a second-class. The first-class will take 
 you along faster, for the second-class horse is old 
 always old as old as his cab, some authorities say 
 and ill-fed and weak. He has been a first-class 
 once, but has been degraded to second-class for 
 long and faithful service. 
 
 Still, he must take you as far for 15 cents as the 
 other horse takes you for 25. If he can t do his fif- 
 
THE GERMAN CHICAGO. 221 
 
 teen-minute distance in 15 minutes, he must still do 
 the distance for the 15 cents. Any stranger can 
 check the distance off by means of the most curi 
 ous map I am acquainted with. It is issued by the 
 city government and can be bought in any shop for 
 a trifle. In it every street is sectioned off like a 
 string of long beads of different colors. Each long 
 bead represents a minute s travel, and when you have 
 covered fifteen of the beads you have got your money s 
 worth. This map of Berlin is a gay-colored maze, and 
 looks like pictures of the circulation of the blood. 
 
 The streets are very clean. They are kept so 
 not by prayer and talk and the other New York 
 methods, but by daily and hourly work with scrap 
 ers and brooms; and when an asphalted street has 
 been tidily scraped after a rain or a light snowfall, 
 they scatter clean sand over it. This saves some of 
 the horses from falling down. In fact this is a city 
 government which seems to stop at no expense 
 where the public convenience, comfort and health 
 are concerned except in one detail. That is the 
 naming of the streets and the numbering of the 
 houses. Sometimes the name of a street will change 
 in the middle of a block. You will not find it out 
 till you get to the next corner and discover the new 
 name on the wall, and of course you don t know 
 just when the change happened. 
 
222 THE GERMAN CHICAGO. 
 
 The names are plainly marked on the corners 
 on all the corners there are no exceptions. But 
 the numbering of the houses there has never been 
 anything like it since original chaos. It is not pos 
 sible that it was done by this wise city government. 
 At first one thinks it was done by an idiot; but 
 there is too much variety about it for that; an idiot 
 could not think of so many different ways of making 
 confusion and propagating blasphemy. The num 
 bers run up one side the street and down the other. 
 That is endurable, but the rest is n t. They often 
 use one number for three or four houses and some 
 times they put the number on only one of the 
 houses and let you guess at the others. Sometimes 
 they put a number on a house 4, for instance then 
 put 4&amp;lt;7, 4^, 4c on the succeeding houses, and one 
 becomes old and decrepit before he finally arrives 
 at 5. A result of this systemless system is, that 
 when you are at No. I in a street, you have n t any 
 idea howfarit maybe to No. 150; it maybe only six or 
 eight blocks, it may be a couple of miles. Frederick 
 street is long, and is one of the great thoroughfares. 
 The other day a man put up his money behind the 
 assertion that there were more refreshment-places 
 in that street than numbers on the houses and he 
 won. There were 254 numbers and 257 refreshment- 
 places. Yet as I have said, it is a long street. 
 
THE GERMAN CHICAGO. 22$ 
 
 But the worst feature of all this complex business 
 is, that in Berlin the numbers do not travel in any 
 one direction; no, they travel along until they get 
 to 50 or 60, .perhaps, then suddenly you find your 
 self up in the hundreds 140, maybe; the next will 
 be 139 then you perceive by that sign that the 
 numbers are now traveling toward you from the 
 opposite direction. They will keep that sort of 
 insanity up as long as you travel that street; every 
 now and then the numbers will turn and run the 
 other way. As a rule there is an arrow under the 
 number, to show by the direction of its flight which 
 way the numbers are proceeding. There are a good 
 many suicides in Berlin; I have seen six reported 
 in a single day. There is always a deal of learned 
 and laborious arguing and ciphering going on as to 
 the cause of this state of things. If they will set to 
 work and number their houses in a rational way 
 perhaps they will find out what was the matter. 
 
 More than a month ago Berlin began to prepare 
 to celebrate Professor Virchow s seventieth birthday. 
 When the birthday arrived, the middle of October, 
 it seemed to me that all the world of science arrived 
 with it; deputation after deputation came, bringing 
 the homage- and reverence of far cities and centres 
 of learning, and during the whole of a long day the 
 hero of it sat and received such witness of his great- 
 
224 THE GERMAN CHICAGO. 
 
 ness as has seldom been vouchsafed to any man in 
 any walk of life in any time ancient or modern. 
 These demonstrations were continued in one form 
 or another day after day, and were presently merged 
 in similar demonstrations to his twin in science and 
 achievement, Professor Helmholtz, whose seventieth 
 birthday is separated from Virchow s, by only about 
 three weeks; so nearly as this did these two ex 
 traordinary men come to being born together. Two 
 such births have seldom signalized a single year in 
 human history. 
 
 But perhaps the final and closing demonstration 
 was peculiarly grateful to them. This was a Com- 
 mers given in their honor the other night, by 1,000 
 students. It was held in a huge hall, very long and 
 very lofty, which had five galleries, far above every 
 body s head, which were crowded with ladies four 
 or five hundred, I judged. 
 
 It was beautifully decorated with clustered flags 
 and various ornamental devices, and was brilliantly 
 lighted. On the spacious floor of this place were 
 ranged, in files, innumerable tables, seating twenty- 
 four persons each, extending from one end of the 
 great hall clear to the other and with narrow aisles 
 between the files. In the centre on one side was a 
 high and tastefully decorated platform twenty or 
 thirty feet long, with a long table on it behind 
 
THE GERMAN CHICAGO. 22$ 
 
 which sat the half dozen chiefs of the givers of the 
 Commers in the rich mediaeval costumes of as many 
 different college corps. Behind these youths a band 
 of musicians was concealed. On the floor directly 
 in front of this platform were half a dozen tables 
 which were distinguished from the outlying conti 
 nent of tables by being covered instead of left naked. 
 Of these the central table was reserved for the two 
 heroes of the occasion and twenty particularly emi 
 nent professors of the Berlin University, and the 
 other covered tables were for the occupancy of a 
 hundred less distinguished professors. 
 
 I was glad to be honored with a place at the table 
 of the two heroes of the occasion, although I was 
 not really learned enough to deserve it. Indeed 
 there was a pleasant strangeness in being in such 
 company; to be thus associated with twenty-three 
 men who forget more every day than I ever knew. 
 Yet there was nothing embarrassing about it, be 
 cause loaded men and empty ones look about alike, 
 and I knew that to that multitude there I was a pro 
 fessor. It required but little art to catch the ways 
 and attitude of those men and imitate them, and I 
 had no difficulty in looking as much like a professor 
 as anybody there. 
 
 We arrived early; so early that only Professors 
 Virchow and Helmholtz and a dozen guests of the 
 
226 THE GERMAN CHICAGO. 
 
 special tables were ahead of us, and 300 or 400 stu 
 dents. But people were arriving in floods, now, and 
 within fifteen minutes all but the special tables were 
 occupied and the great house was crammed, the 
 aisles included. It was said that there were 4,000 
 men present. It was a most animated scene, there 
 is no doubt about that; it was a stupendous beehive. 
 At each end of each table stood a corps student in 
 the uniform of his corps. These quaint costumes 
 are of brilliant colored silks and velvets, with some 
 times a high plumed hat, sometimes a broad Scotch 
 cap, with a great plume wound about it, sometimes 
 oftenest a little shallow silk cap on the tip of the 
 crown, like an inverted saucer; sometimes the panta 
 loons are snow-white, sometimes of other colors; the 
 boots in all cases come up well above the knee ; and in 
 all cases also white gauntlets are worn; the sword is 
 a rapier with a bowl-shaped guard for the hand, paint 
 ed in several colors. Each corps has a uniform of its 
 own, and all are of rich material, brilliant in color, 
 and exceedingly picturesque; for they are survivals 
 of the vanished costumes of the Middle Ages, and 
 they reproduce for us the time when men were beau 
 tiful to look at. The student who stood guard at 
 our end of the table was of grave countenance and 
 great frame and grace of form, and he was doubt 
 less an accurate reproduction, clothes and all, of 
 
THE GERMAN CHICAGO. 22 7 
 
 some ancestor of his of two or three centuries ago 
 a reproduction as far as the outside, the animal man, 
 goes, I mean. 
 
 As I say, the place was now crowded. The near 
 est aisle was packed with students standing up, and 
 they made a fence which shut off the rest of the 
 house from view. As far down this fence as you 
 could see all these wholesome young faces were 
 turned in one direction, all these intent and wor 
 shiping eyes were centred upon one spot the place 
 where Virchow and Helmholtz sat. The boys 
 seemed lost to everything, unconscious of their own 
 existence ; they devoured these two intellectual 
 giants with their eyes, they feasted upon them, and 
 the worship that was in their hearts shone in their 
 faces. It seemed to me that I would rather be 
 flooded with a glory like that, instinct with sincerity, 
 innocent of self-seeking than win a hundred battles 
 and break a million hearts. 
 
 There was a big mug of beer in front of each of 
 us, and more to come when wanted. There was 
 also a quarto pamphlet containing the words of the 
 songs to be sung. After the names of the officers of 
 the feast were these words in large type : 
 
 &quot; Wdhrend des Kommerses herrscht allge- 
 meiner Burgfriede&quot; 
 
228 THE GERMAN CHICAGO. 
 
 I was not able to translate this to my satisfaction, 
 but a professor helped me out. This was his ex 
 planation: The students in uniform belong to dif 
 ferent college corps ; not all students belong to 
 corps; none join the corps except those who enjoy 
 fighting. The corps students fight duels with swords 
 every week, one corps challenging another corps to 
 furnish a certain number of duelists for the occasion, 
 and it is only on this battle-field that students of dif 
 ferent corps exchange courtesies. In common life 
 they do not drink with each other or speak. The 
 above line now translates itself: there is truce dur 
 ing the Commers, war is laid aside and fellowship 
 takes its place. 
 
 Now the performance began. The concealed band 
 played a piece of martial music; then there was a 
 pause. The students on the platform rose to their 
 feet, the middle one gave a toast to the Emperor, 
 then all the house rose, mugs in hand. At the call 
 &quot;One two three!&quot; all glasses were drained and 
 then brought down with a slam on the tables in uni 
 son. The result was as good an imitation of thun 
 der as I have ever heard. From now on, during an 
 hour, there was singing, in mighty chorus. During 
 each interval between songs a number of the special 
 guests the professors arrived. There seemed to 
 be some signal whereby the students on the plat- 
 
THE GERMAN CHICAGO. 
 
 22 9 
 
 form were made aware that a professor had arrived 
 at the remote door of entrance; for you would see 
 them suddenly rise to their feet, strike an erect mil 
 itary attitude, then draw their swords; the swords 
 of all their brethren standing guard at the innumer 
 able tables would flash from the scabbards and be 
 held aloft a handsome spectacle ! Three clear bu 
 gle notes would ring out, then all these swords would 
 come down with a crash, twice repeated, on the 
 tables, and be uplifted and held aloft again; 
 then in the distance you would see the gay uniforms 
 and uplifted swords of a guard of honor clearing the 
 way and conducting the guest down to his place. 
 The songs were stirring, the immense outpour from 
 young life and young lungs, the crash of swords and 
 the thunder of the beer mugs gradually worked a 
 body up to what seemed the last possible summit of 
 excitement. It surely seemed to me that I had 
 reached that summit, that I had reached my limit, 
 and that there was no higher lift desirable for me. 
 When apparently the last eminent guest had long 
 ago taken his place, again those three bugle blasts 
 rang out and once more the swords leaped from their 
 scabbards. Who might this late comer be ? No 
 body was interested to inquire. Still, indolent eyes 
 were turned toward the distant entrance, we saw 
 the silken gleam and the lifted swords of a guard of 
 
230 THE GERMAN CHICAGO. 
 
 honor plowing through the remote crowds. Then we 
 saw that end of the house rising to its feet; saw it rise 
 abreast the advancing guard all along, like a wave. 
 This supreme honor had been offered to no one be 
 fore. Then there was an excited whisper at our 
 table &quot;MOMMSEN!&quot; and the whole house rose. 
 Rose and shouted and stamped and clapped, and 
 banged the beer mugs. Just simply a storm ! Then 
 the little man with his long hair and Emersonian 
 face edged his way past us and took his seat. I 
 could have touched him with my hand Mommsen ! 
 think of it ! 
 
 This was one of those immense surprises that can 
 happen only a few times in one s life. I was not 
 dreaming of him, he was to me only a giant myth, 
 a world-shadowing spectre, not a reality. The sur 
 prise of it all can be only comparable to a man s 
 suddenly coming upon Mont Blanc with its awful 
 form towering into the sky, when he did n t suspect 
 he was in its neighborhood. I would have walked 
 a great many miles to get a sight of him, and here 
 he was, without trouble or tramp or cost of any kind. 
 Here he was, clothed in a Titanic deceptive mod 
 esty which made him look like other men. Here 
 he was, carrying the Roman world and all the 
 Caesars in his hospitable skull and doing it as easily 
 as that other luminous vault, the skull of the uni- 
 
THE GERMAN CHICAGO. 23 I 
 
 verse, carries the Milky Way and the constella 
 tions. 
 
 One of the professors said that once upon a time 
 an American young lady was introduced to Momm- 
 sen, and found herself badly scared and speechless. 
 She dreaded to see his mouth unclose, for she was 
 expecting him to choose a subject several miles 
 above her comprehension, and did n t suppose he 
 could get down to the world that other people lived 
 in; but when his remark came, her terrors disap 
 peared: &quot;Well how do you do? Have you read 
 Howells s last book ? / think it s his best.&quot; 
 
 The active ceremonies of the evening closed with 
 the speeches of welcome delivered by two students 
 and the replies made by Professors Virchow and 
 Helmholtz. 
 
 Virchow has long been a member of the city gov 
 ernment of Berlin. He works as hard for the city 
 as does any other Berlin alderman, and gets the 
 same pay nothing. I don t know that we in Amer 
 ica could venture to ask our most illustrious citizen 
 to serve in a board of aldermen, and if we might 
 venture it I am not positively sure that we could 
 elect him. But here the municipal system is such 
 that the best men in the city consider it an honor to 
 serve gratis as aldermen, and the people have the 
 good sense to prefer these men and to elect them 
 
232 THE GERMAN CHICAGO. 
 
 year after year. As a result, Berlin is a thoroughly 
 well-governed city. It is a free city; its affairs are 
 not meddled with by the State; they are managed 
 by its own citizens, and after methods of their own 
 devising. 
 
A PETITION TO THE QUEEN OF 
 ENGLAND. 
 
 HARTFORD, Nov. 6, 1887. 
 
 TV &amp;gt;T ADAM : You will remember that last May 
 -L* A Mr. Edward Bright, the clerk of the Inland 
 Revenue Office, wrote me about a tax which he said 
 was due from me to the Government on books of 
 mine published in London that is to say, an in 
 come tax on the royalties. I do not know Mr. 
 Bright, and it is embarrassing to me to correspond 
 with strangers; for I was raised in the country and 
 have always lived there ; the early part in Marion 
 county Missouri before the war, and this part in 
 Hartford county Connecticut, near Bloomfield and 
 about 8 miles this side of Farmington, though some 
 call it 9, which it is impossible to be, for I have 
 walked it many and many a time in considerably 
 under three hours, and General Hawley says he has 
 done it in two and a quarter, which is not likely; so 
 it has seemed best that I write your Majesty. It is 
 true that I do not know your Majesty personally, 
 but I have met the Lord Mayor, and if the rest of 
 
 233 
 
234 PETITION TO THE QUEEN OF ENGLAND. 
 
 the family are like him, it is but just that it should 
 be named royal; and likewise plain that in a family 
 matter like this, I cannot better forward my case 
 than to frankly carry it to the head of the family 
 itself. I have also met the Prince of Wales once in 
 the fall of 1873, but it was not in any familiar way, 
 but in a quite informal way, being casual, and was 
 of course a surprise to us both. It was in Oxford 
 street, just where you come out of Oxford into Re 
 gent Circus, and just as he turned up one side of the 
 circle at the head of a procession, I went down the 
 other side on the top of an omnibus. He will re 
 member me on account of a gray coat with flap 
 pockets that I wore, as I was the only person on 
 the omnibus that had on that kind of a coat ; I re 
 member him of course as easy as I would a comet. 
 He looked quite proud and satisfied, but that is not 
 to be wondered at, he has a good situation. And 
 once I called on your Majesty, but you were out. 
 
 But that is no matter, it happens with everybody. 
 However, I have wandered a little, away from what 
 I started about. It was this way. Young Bright 
 wrote my London publishers Chatto and Windus 
 their place is the one on the left as you come down 
 Piccadilly, about a block and a half above where 
 the minstrel show is he wrote them that he wanted 
 them to pay income tax on the royalties of some 
 
PETITION TO THE QUEEN OF ENGLAND. 235 
 
 foreign authors, namely, &quot; Miss De La Rame 
 (Ouida), Dr. Oliver Wendell Holmes, Mr. Francis 
 Bret Harte, and Mr. Mark Twain.&quot; Well, Mr. 
 Chatto diverted him from the others, and tried to 
 divert him from me, but in this case he failed. So 
 then, young Bright wrote me. And not only -that, 
 but he sent me a printed document the size of a 
 news paper, for me to sign, all over in different 
 places. Well, it was that kind of a document that 
 the more you study it the more it undermines you 
 and makes everything seem uncertain to you ; and 
 so, while in that condition, and really not responsi 
 ble for my acts, I wrote Mr. Chatto to pay the tax 
 and charge to me. Of course my idea was, that it 
 was for only one year, and that the tax would be 
 only about one per cent or along there somewhere, 
 but last night I met Professor Sloane of Princeton 
 you may not know him, but you have probably 
 se en him every now and then, for he goes to Eng 
 land a good deal, a large man and very handsome 
 and absorbed in thought, and if you have noticed 
 such a man on platforms after the train is gone, that 
 is the one, he generally gets left, like all those spe 
 cialists and other scholars who know everything but 
 how to apply it and he said it was a back tax for 
 three years, and no one per cent, but two and a 
 half! 
 
236 PETITION TO THE QUEEN OF ENGLAND. 
 
 That gave what had seemed a little matter, a 
 new aspect. I then began to study the printed doc 
 ument again, to see if I could find anything in it 
 that might modify my case, and I had what seems 
 to be a quite promising success. For instance, it 
 opens thus polite and courteous, the way those 
 English government documents always are I do 
 not say that to hear myself talk, it is just the fact, 
 and it is a credit : 
 
 &quot; To MR. MARK TWAIN : IN PURSUANCE of 
 the Acts of Parliament for granting to Her Majesty 
 Duties and Profits,&quot; etc. 
 
 I had not noticed that before. My idea had been 
 that it was for the Government, and so I wrote to 
 the Government ; but now I saw that it was a pri 
 vate matter, a family matter, and that the proceeds 
 went to yourself, not the Government. I would al 
 ways rather treat with principals, and I am glad I 
 noticed that clause. With a principal, one can al 
 ways get at a fair and right understanding, whether 
 it is about potatoes, or continents, or any of those 
 things, or something entirely different ; for the size 
 or nature of the thing does not affect the fact ; 
 whereas, as a rule, a subordinate is more or less 
 troublesome to satisfy. And yet this is not against 
 them, but the other way. They have their duties 
 to do, and must be harnessed to rules, and not 
 
PETITION TO THE QUEEN OP ENGLAND. 
 
 allowed any discretion. Why if your Majesty should 
 equip young Bright with discretion I mean his own 
 discretion it is an even guess that he would discre 
 tion you out of house and home in 2 or 3 years. He 
 would not mean to get the family into straits, but 
 that would be the upshot, just the same. Now 
 then, with Bright out of the way, this is not going 
 to be any Irish question ; it is going to be settled 
 pleasantly and satisfactorily for all of us, and when 
 it is finished your Majesty is going to stand with the 
 American people just as you have stood for fifty 
 years, and surely no monarch can require better 
 than that of an alien nation. They do not all pay 
 a British income tax, but the most of them will in 
 time, for we have shoals of new authors coming 
 along every year ; and of the population of your 
 Canada, upwards of four-fifths are wealthy Ameri 
 cans, and more going there all the time. 
 
 Well, another thing which I noticed in the Docu 
 ment, was an item about &quot; Deductions.&quot; 1 will 
 come to that presently, your Majesty. And another 
 thing was this : that Authors are not mentioned in 
 the Document at all. No, we have &quot; Quarries, 
 Mines, Iron Works, Salt Springs, Alum Mines, 
 Water Works, Canals, Docks, Drains, Levels, Fish 
 ings, Fairs, Tolls, Bridges, Ferries,&quot; and so-forth 
 and so-forth and so-on well, as much as a yard or 
 
238 PETITION TO TtfE QUEEN OF ENGLAND. 
 
 a yard and a half of them, I should think anyway 
 a very large quantity or number. I read along 
 down, and dcr.vn, and down the list, further, and 
 further, and further, and as I approached the bot 
 tom my hopes began to rise higher and higher, be 
 cause I saw that everything in England, that far, 
 was taxed by name and in detail, except perhaps 
 the family, and maybe Parliament, and yet still no 
 mention of Authors. Apparently they were going 
 to be overlooked. And sure enough, they were ! 
 My heart gave a great bound. But I was too soon. 
 There was a foot note, in Mr. Bright s hand, which 
 said : &quot; You are taxed under Schedule D, section 
 14.&quot; I turned to that place, and found these three 
 things: Trades, Offices, Gas Works.&quot; 
 
 Of course, after a moment s reflection, hope came 
 up again, and then certainty: Mr. Bright was in 
 error, and clear off the track ; for Authorship is not 
 a Trade, it is an inspiration ; Authorship does not 
 keep an Office, its habitation is all out under the 
 sky, and everywhere where the winds are blowing 
 and the sun is shining and the creatures of God are 
 free. Now then, since I have no Trade and keep 
 no Office, I am not taxable under Schedule D, sec 
 tion 14. Your Majesty sees that; so I will go on to 
 that other thing that I spoke of, the &quot; deductions&quot; 
 deductions from my tax which I may get allowed, 
 
PETITION TO THE QUEEN OF EA GLAND. 239 
 
 under conditions. Mr. Bright says all deductions 
 to be claimed by me must be restricted to the pro 
 visions made in Paragraph No. 8, entitled &quot; Wear 
 and Tear of Machinery, or Plant.&quot; This is curious, 
 and shows how far he has gotten away on his wrong 
 course after once he has got started wrong : for 
 Offices and Trades do not have Plant, they do not 
 have Machinery, such a thing was never heard of ; 
 and moreover they do not wear and tear. You see 
 that, your Majesty, and that it is true. Here is the 
 Paragraph No. 8 : 
 
 Amount claimed as a deduction for diminished value by 
 reason of Wear and Tear, where the Machinery or Plant be 
 longs to the Person or Company carrying on the Concern, or 
 is let to such Person or Company so that the Lessee is bound 
 to maintain and deliver over the same in good condition: 
 
 Amount 
 
 There it is the very words. 
 
 I could answer Mr. Bright thus : 
 
 It is my pride to say that my Brain is my Plant ; 
 and I do not claim any deduction for diminished 
 value by reason of Wear and Tear, for the reason 
 that it does not wear and tear, but stays sound and 
 whole all the time. Yes, I could say to him, my 
 Brain is my Plant, my Skull is my Workshop, my 
 Hand is my Machinery, and I am the Person carry- 
 
240 PETITION TO THE QUEEN OF ENGLAND. 
 
 ing on the Concern ; it is not leased to anybody, 
 and so there is no Lessee bound to maintain and de 
 liver over the same in good condition. There. I 
 do not wish to any way overrate this argument and 
 answer, dashed off just so, and not a word of it 
 altered from the way I first wrote it, your Majesty, 
 but indeed it does seem to pulverize that young 
 fellow, you can see that yourself. But that is all I 
 say ; I stop there ; I never pursue a person after I 
 have got him clown. 
 
 Having thus shown your Majesty that I am not 
 taxable, but am the victim of the error of a clerk 
 who mistakes the nature of my commerce, it only 
 remains for me to beg that you will of your justice 
 annul my letter that I spoke of, so that my pub 
 lisher can keep back that tax-money which, in the 
 confusion and aberration caused by the Document, 
 I ordered him to pay. You will not miss the sum, 
 but this is a hard year for authors ; and as for lec 
 tures, I do not suppose your Majesty ever saw such 
 a dull season. 
 
 With always great, and ever increasing respect, I 
 beg to sign myself your Majesty s servant to com 
 mand, MARK TWAIN. 
 
 HER MAJESTY THE QUEEN, LONDON. 
 
A MAJESTIC LITERARY FOSSIL. 
 
 TF I were required to guess off-hand, and without 
 * collusion with higher minds, what is the bot 
 tom cause of the amazing material and intellectual 
 advancement of the last fifty years, I should guess 
 that it was the modern-born and previously non 
 existent disposition on the part of men to believe 
 that a new idea can have value. With the long roll 
 of the mighty names of history present in our minds, 
 we are not privileged to doubt that for the past 
 twenty or thirty centuries every conspicuous civili 
 zation in the world has produced intellects able to 
 invent and create the things which make our day a 
 wonder; perhaps we may be justified in inferring, 
 then, that the reason they did not do it was that 
 the public reverence for old ideas and hostility to 
 new ones always stood in their way, and was a wall 
 they could not break down or climb over. The pre 
 vailing tone of old books regarding new ideas is one 
 of suspicion and uneasiness at times, and at other 
 times contempt. By contrast, our day is indifferent 
 
 to old ideas, and even considers that their age makes 
 
 241 
 
242 A MAJES TIC LI TERA R Y FOSSIL. 
 
 their value questionable, but jumps at a new idea 
 with enthusiasm and high hope a hope which is 
 high because it has not been accustomed to being 
 disappointed. I make no guess as to just when this 
 disposition was born to us, but it certainly is ours, 
 was not possessed by any century before us, is our 
 peculiar mark and badge, and is doubtless the bot 
 tom reason why we are a race of lightning-shod 
 Mercuries, and proud of it instead of being, like 
 our ancestors, a race of plodding crabs, and proud 
 of that. 
 
 So recent is this change from a three or four 
 thousand year twilight to the flash and glare of open 
 day that I have walked in both, and yet am not old. 
 Nothing is to-day as it was when I was an urchin; 
 but when I was an urchin, nothing was much different 
 from what it had always been in this world. Take a 
 single detail, for example medicine. Galen could 
 have come into my sick-room at any time during my 
 first seven years I mean any day when it was n t 
 fishing weather, and there was n t any choice but 
 school or sickness and he could have sat down there 
 and stood my doctor s watch without asking a ques 
 tion. He would have smelt around among the wil 
 derness of cups and bottles and phials on the table 
 and the shelves, and missed not a stench that used to 
 glad him two thousand years before, nor discovered 
 
A MAJESTIC LITERARY FOSSIL. 243 
 
 one that was of a later date. He would have exam 
 ined me, and run across only one disappointment 
 I was already salivated; I would have him there; 
 for I was always salivated, calomel was so cheap. 
 He would get out his lancet then; but I would have 
 him again; our family doctor did n t allow blood to 
 accumulate in the system. However, he could take 
 dipper and ladle, and freight me up with old familiar 
 doses that had come down from Adam to his time 
 and mine; and he could go out with a wheelbarrow 
 and gather weeds and offal, and build some more, 
 while those others were getting in their work. And 
 if our reverend doctor came and found him there, 
 he would be dumb with awe, and would get down 
 and worship him. Whereas if Galen should appear 
 among us to-day, he could not stand anybody s 
 watch; he would inspire no awe; he would be told 
 he was a back number, and it would surprise him 
 to see that that fact counted against him, instead of 
 in his favor. He would n t know our medicines; he 
 would n t know our practice; and the first time he 
 tried to introduce his own, we would hang him. 
 
 This introduction brings me to my literary relic. 
 It is a Dictionary of Medicine, by Dr. James, of Lon 
 don, assisted by Mr. Boswell s Doctor Samuel John 
 son, and is a hundred and fifty years old, it having 
 been published at the time of the rebellion of 45. 
 
244 A MAJESTIC LITERARY FOSSIL. 
 
 If it had been sent against the Pretender s troops 
 there probably wouldn t have been a survivor. In 
 1861 this deadly book was still working the ceme 
 teries down in Virginia. For three generations 
 and a half it had been going quietly along, enrich 
 ing the earth with its slain. Up to its last free day 
 it was trusted and believed in, and its devastating 
 advice taken, as was shown by notes inserted be 
 tween its leaves. But our troops captured it and 
 brought it home, and it has been out of business 
 since. These remarks from its preface are in the 
 true spirit of the olden time, sodden with worship of 
 the old, disdain of the new: 
 
 If we inquire into the Improvements which have been 
 made by the Moderns, we shall be forced to confess that we 
 have so little Reason to value ourselves beyond the Antients, 
 or to be tempted to contemn them, that we cannot give 
 stronger or more convincing Proofs of our own Ignorance, 
 as well as our Pride. 
 
 Among all the systematical Writers, I think there are very 
 few who refuse the Preference to Hteron, Fabriciits ab Aqua- 
 pendente, as a Person of unquestion d Learning and Judg 
 ment; and yet is he not asham d to let his Readers know 
 that Celsus among the Latins, Paulits Aegineta among the 
 Greeks, and Albucasis among the Arabians, whom I am un 
 willing to place among the Moderns, tho he liv d but six 
 hundred Years since, are the Triumvirate to whom he princi 
 pally stands indebted, for the Assistance he had receiv d from 
 them in composing his excellent Book. 
 
 [In a previous paragraph are puffs of Galen, Hippocrates, 
 and other debris of the Old Silurian Period of Medicine.] 
 
A MAJESTIC LITERARY FOSSIL. 245 
 
 How many Operations are there now in Use which were un 
 known to the Antients ? 
 
 That is true. The surest way for a nation s scien 
 tific men to prove that they were proud and igno 
 rant was to claim to have found out something fresh 
 in the course of a thousand years or so. Evidently 
 the peoples of this book s clay regarded themselves 
 as children, and their remote ancestors as the only 
 grown-up people that had existed. Consider the 
 contrast: without offence, without over-egotism, our 
 own scientific men may and do regard themselves 
 as grown people and their grandfathers as children. 
 The change here presented is probably the most 
 sweeping that has ever come over mankind in the 
 history of the race. It is the utter reversal, in a 
 couple of generations, of an attitude which had been 
 maintained without challenge or interruption from 
 the earliest antiquity. It amounts to creating man 
 over again on a new plan; he was a canal-boat be 
 fore, he is an ocean greyhound to-day. The change 
 from reptile to bird was not more tremendous, and 
 it took longer. 
 
 It is curious. If you read between the lines what 
 this author says about Brer Albucasis, you detect 
 that in venturing to compliment him he has to 
 whistle a little to keep his courage up, because Al 
 bucasis &quot; liv d but six hundred Years since,&quot; and 
 
246 A MAJESTIC LITERARY FOSSIL. 
 
 therefore came so uncomfortably near being a 
 &quot;modern&quot; that one couldn t respect him without 
 risk. 
 
 Phlebotomy, Venesection terms to signify bleed 
 ing are not often heard in our day, because we 
 have ceased to believe that the best way to make a 
 bank or a body healthy is to squander its capital; 
 but in our author s time the physician went around 
 with a hatful of lancets on his person all the time, 
 and took a hack at every patient whom he found 
 still alive. He robbed his man of pounds and pounds 
 of blood at a single operation. The details of this 
 sort in this book make terrific reading. Apparently 
 even the healthy did not escape, but were bled 
 twelve times a year, on a particular day of the 
 month, and exhaustively purged besides. Here is 
 a specimen of the vigorous old-time practice; it oc 
 curs in our author s adoring biography of a Doctor 
 Aretaeus, a licensed assassin of Homer s time, or 
 thereabouts: 
 
 In a Quinsey he used Venesection, and allow d- the Blood 
 to flow till the Patient was ready to faint away. 
 
 There is no harm in trying to cure a headache 
 in our day. You can t do it, but you get more or 
 less entertainment out of trying, and that is some 
 thing; besides, you live to tell about it, and that i? 
 
A MAJESTIC LITERARY FOSSIL. 247 
 
 more. A century or so ago you could have had the 
 first of these features in rich variety, but you might 
 fail of the other once and once would do. I quote: 
 
 As Dissections of Persons who have died of severe Head- 
 achs, which have been related by Authors, are too numerous 
 to be inserted in this Place, we shall here abridge some of 
 the most curious and important Observations relating to this 
 Subject, collected by the celebrated Bonetus. 
 
 The celebrated Bonetus s &quot; Observation No I &quot; 
 seems to me a sufficient sample, all by itself, of 
 what people used to have to stand any time between 
 the creation of the world and the birth of your father 
 and mine when they had the disastrous luck to get 
 a &quot; Head-ach&quot; : 
 
 A certain Merchant, about forty Years of Age, of a Melan 
 cholic Habit, and deeply involved in the Cares of the World, 
 was, during the Dog-days, seiz d with a violent pain of his 
 Head, which some time after oblig d him to keep his Bed. 
 
 I, being call d, order d Venesection in the Arms, the Ap 
 plication of Leeches to the Vessels of his Nostrils, Forehead, 
 and Temples, as also to those behind his Ears; I likewise 
 prescrib d the Application of Cupping-glasses, with Scarifica 
 tion, to his Back: But, notwithstanding these Precautions, 
 he dy d. If any Surgeon, skill d in Arteriotomy, had been 
 present, I should have also order d that Operation. 
 
 I looked for &quot; Arteriotomy&quot; in this same Diction 
 ary, and found this definition, &quot;The opening of an 
 Artery with a View of taking away Blood.&quot; Here 
 was a person who was being bled in the arms, fore- 
 
248 A MAJESTIC LITERARY FOSSIL. 
 
 head, nostrils, back, temples, and behind the ears, 
 yet the celebrated Bonetus was not satisfied, but 
 wanted to open an artery, &quot; with a View &quot; to insert 
 ing a pump, probably. &quot; Notwithstanding these 
 Precautions &quot; he dy d. No art of speech could 
 more quaintly convey this butcher s innocent sur 
 prise. Now that we know what the celebrated 
 Bonetus did when he wanted to relieve a Head-ach, 
 it is no trouble to infer that if he wanted to comfort 
 a man that had a Stomach-ach he disembowelled him. 
 
 I have given one &quot; Observation &quot; a single Head- 
 ach case; but the celebrated Bonetus follows it with 
 eleven more. Without enlarging upon the matter, 
 I merely note this coincidence they all &quot; dy d.&quot; 
 Not one of these people got well; yet this obtuse 
 hyena sets down every little gory detail of the 
 several assassinations as complacently as if he im 
 agined he was doing a useful and meritorious work 
 in perpetuating the methods of his crimes. &quot;Ob 
 servations,&quot; indeed ! They are confessions. 
 
 According to this book, &quot; the Ashes of an Ass s 
 hoof mix d with Woman s milk cures chilblains.&quot; 
 Length of time required not stated. Another item : 
 &quot; The constant Use of Milk is bad for the Teeth, 
 and causes them to rot, and loosens the Gums.&quot; 
 Yet in our day babies use it constantly without 
 hurtful results. This author thinks you ought to 
 
A MAJESTIC LITERARY FOSSIL. 249 
 
 wash out your mouth with wine before venturing to 
 drink milk. Presently, when we come to notice 
 what fiendish decoctions those people introduced 
 into their stomachs by way of medicine, we shall 
 wonder that they could have been afraid of milk. 
 
 It appears that they had false teeth in those days. 
 They were made of ivory sometimes, sometimes of 
 bone, and were thrust into the natural sockets, and 
 lashed to each other and to the neighboring teeth 
 with wires or with silk threads. They were not to 
 eat with, nor to laugh with, because they dropped 
 out when not in repose. You could smile with 
 them, but you had to practice first, or you would 
 overdo it. They were not for business, but just 
 decoration. They filled the bill according to their 
 lights. 
 
 This author says &quot; the Flesh of Swine nourishes 
 above all other eatables.&quot; In another place he 
 mentions a number of things, and says these are 
 very easy to be digested; so is Pork.&quot; This is proba 
 bly a lie. But he is pretty handy in that line; and 
 when he has n t anything of the sort in stock him 
 self he gives some other expert an opening. For 
 instance, under the head of &quot; Attractives &quot; he intro 
 duces Paracelsus, who tells of a nameless &quot;Specific&quot; 
 quantity of it not set down which is able to draw a 
 hundred pounds of flesh to itself distance not stated 
 
250 A MAJESTIC LITERARY FOSSIL. 
 
 and then proceeds, &quot;It happen d in our own 
 Days that an Attractive of this Kind drew a certain 
 Man s Lungs up into his Mouth, by which he had 
 the Misfortune to be suffocated.&quot; This is more than 
 doubtful. In the first place, his Mouth could n t ac 
 commodate his Lungs in fact, his Hat could n t; 
 secondly, his Heart being more eligibly Situated, it 
 would have got the Start of his Lungs, and being a 
 lighter Body, it would have Sail d in ahead and Oc 
 cupied the Premises; thirdly, you will Take Notice 
 a Man with his Heart in his Mouth has n t any Room 
 left for his Lungs he has got all he can Attend to; 
 and finally, the Man must have had the Attractive 
 in his Hat, and when he saw what was going to 
 Happen he would have Remov d it and Sat Down 
 on it. Indeed he would; and then how could it 
 Choke him to Death ? I don t believe the thing 
 ever happened at all. 
 
 Paracelsus adds this effort : &quot; I myself saw a 
 Plaister which attracted as much Water as was suf 
 ficient to fill a Cistern ; and by these very Attractives 
 Branches may be torn from Trees; and, which is 
 still more surprising, a Cow may be carried up into 
 the Air.&quot; Paracelsus is dead now; he was always 
 straining himself that way. 
 
 They liked a touch of mystery along with their 
 medicine in the olden time; and the medicine-man 
 
A MAJESTIC LITERAR Y FOSSIL. 25 I 
 
 of that day, like the medicine-man of our Indian 
 tribes, did what he could to meet the requirement : 
 
 Arcanum. A Kind of Remedy whose Manner of Prepara 
 tion, or singular Efficacy, is industriously concealed, in order 
 to enhance its Value. By the Chymists it is generally de 
 fined a thing secret, incorporeal, and immortal, which can 
 not be Known by Man, unless by Experience; for it is the 
 Virtue of every thing, which operates a thousand times more 
 than the thing itself. 
 
 To me the butt end of this explanation is not al 
 together clear. A little of what they knew about 
 natural history in the early times is exposed here 
 and there in the Dictionary. 
 
 The Spider. It is more common than welcome in Houses. 
 Both the Spider and its Web are used in Medicine: The 
 Spider is said to avert the Paroxysms of Fevers, if it be ap 
 ply d to the Pulse of the Wrist, or the Temples; but it is 
 peculiarly recommended against a Quartan, being enclosed 
 in the Shell of a Hazlenut. 
 
 Among approved Remedies, I find that the distill d 
 Water of Black Spiders is an excellent Cure for Wounds, 
 and that this was one of the choice Secrets of Sir Walter 
 Raleigh. 
 
 The Spider which some call the Catcher, or Wolf, being 
 beaten into a Plaister, then sew d up in Linen, and apply d 
 to the Forehead or Temples, prevents the Returns of a 
 Tertian. 
 
 There is another Kind of Spider, which spins a white, 
 fine, and thick Web. One of this Sort, wrapp d in Leather, 
 and hung about the Arm, will avert the Fit of a Quartan. 
 Boil d in Oil of Roses, and instilled into the Ears, it eases 
 Pains in those Parts. Dioscoridcs, Lib. 2, Cap. 68. 
 
252 A MAJESTIC LITER A R Y FOSSIL. 
 
 Thus we find that Spiders have in all Ages been celebrated 
 for their febrifuge Virtues; and it is worthy of Remark, that 
 a Spider is usually given to Monkeys, and is esteem d a 
 sovereign Remedy for the Disorders those Animals are princi 
 pally subject to. 
 
 Then follows a long account of how a dying wo 
 man, who had suffered nine hours a day with an 
 ague during eight weeks, and who had been bled 
 dry some dozens of times meantime without ap 
 parent benefit, was at last forced to swallow several 
 wads of &quot; Spiders-web,&quot; whereupon she straight 
 way mended, and promptly got well. So the sage 
 is full of enthusiasm over the spider-webs, and men 
 tions only in the most casual way the discontinuance 
 of the daily bleedings, plainly never suspecting that 
 this had anything to do with the cure. 
 
 As concerning the venomous Nature of Spiders, Scaltger 
 takes notice of a certain Species of them (which he had for 
 gotten), whose Poison was of so great Force as to affect one 
 Vincent inus thro the Sole of his Shoe, by only treading on it. 
 
 The sage takes that in without a strain, but the 
 following case was a trifle too bulky for him, as his 
 comment reveals : 
 
 In Gascony, observes Scaliger, there is a very small Spider, 
 which, running over a Looking-glass, will crack the same by 
 the Force of her Poison. (A mere Fable.} 
 
 But he finds no fault with the following facts : 
 
A MAJES TIC LIT ERA R Y FOSSIL. 2 5 3 
 
 Remarkable is the Enmity recorded between this Creature 
 and the Serpent, as also the Toad : Of the former it is re 
 ported, That, lying (as he thinks securely) under the Shadow 
 of some Tree, the Spider lets herself down by her Thread, 
 and, striking her Proboscis or Sting into the Head, with 
 that Force and Efficacy, injecting likewise her venomous 
 Juice, that, wringing himself about, he immediately grows 
 giddy, and quickly after dies. 
 
 When the Toad is bit or stung in Fight with this Creature, 
 the Lizard, Adder, or other that is poisonous, she finds re 
 lief from Plantain, to which she resorts. In her Combat 
 with the Toad, the Spider useth the same Stratagem as with 
 the Serpent, hanging by her own Thread from the Bough of 
 some Tree, and striking her Sting into her enemy s Head, upon 
 which the other, enraged, swells up, and sometimes bursts. 
 
 To this Effect is the Relation of Erasmus, which he saith 
 he had from one of the Spectators, of a Person lying along 
 upon the Floor of his Chamber, in the Summer-time, to 
 sleep in a supine Posture, when a Toad, creeping out of 
 some green Rushes, brought just before in, to adorn the 
 Chimney, gets upon his Face, and with his Feet sits across 
 his Lips. To force off the Toad, says the Historian, would 
 have been accounted sudden Death to the Sleeper; and to 
 leave her there, very cruel and dangerous; so that upon Con 
 sultation it was concluded to find out a Spider, which, to 
 gether with her Web, and the Window she was fasten d to, 
 was brought carefully, and so contrived as to be held per 
 pendicularly to the Man s Face; which was no sooner done, 
 but the Spider, discovering his Enemy, let himself down, and 
 struck in his Dart, afterwards betaking himself up again to 
 his Web; the Toad swell d, but as yet kept his Station: The 
 second Wound is given quickly after by the Spider, upon which 
 he swells yet more, but remain d alive still. The Spider, 
 coming down again by his Thread, gives the third Blow; 
 and the Toad, taking off his Feet from over the Man s 
 Mouth, fell off dead. 
 
254 * MAJESTIC LITERAR Y FOSSIL. 
 
 To which the sage appends this grave remark, 
 &quot; And so much for the historical Part.&quot; Then he 
 passes on to a consideration of &quot;the Effects and 
 Cure of the Poison.&quot; 
 
 One of the most interesting things about this 
 tragedy is the double sex of the Toad, and also of 
 the Spider. 
 
 Now the sage quotes from one Turner : 
 
 I remember, when a very young Practitioner, being sent 
 for to a certain Woman, whose Custom was usually, when 
 she went to the Cellar by Candle-light, to go also a Spider- 
 hunting, setting Fire to their Webs, and burning them with 
 the Flame of the Candle still as she pursued them. It hap- 
 pen d at length, after this Whimsy had been follow d a long 
 time, one of them sold his Life much dearer than those Hun 
 dreds she had destroy d ; for, lighting upon the melting Tal 
 low of her Candle, near the Flame, and his legs being 
 entangled therein, so that he could not extricate himself, the 
 Flame or Heat coming on, he was made a Sacrifice to his 
 cruel Persecutor, who delighting her Eyes with the Spectacle, 
 still waiting for the Flame to take hold of him, he presently 
 burst with a great Crack, and threw his Liquor, some into 
 her Eyes, but mostly upon her Lips ; by means of which, 
 flinging away her Candle, she cry d out for Help, as fansying 
 herself kill d already with the Poison. However in the Night 
 her Lips swell d up excessively, and one of her Eyes was 
 much inflam d ; also her Tongue and Gums were somewhat 
 affected ; and, whether from the Nausea excited by the 
 Thoughts of the Liquor getting into her Mouth, or from the 
 poisonous Impressions communicated by the nervous Fi- 
 brilla: of those Parts to those of the Ventricle, a continual 
 Vomiting attended : To take off which, when I was call d. I 
 order d a Glass of mull d Sack, with a Scruple of Salt of 
 
A MAJESTIC LITERARY FOSSIL. 255 
 
 Wormwood, and some hours after a Theriacal Bolus, which 
 she flung up again. I embrocated the Lips with the Oil of 
 Scorpions mix d with the Oil of Roses ; and, in Considera 
 tion of the Ophthalmy, tho I was not certain but the Heat 
 of the Liquor, rais d by the Flame of the Candle before the 
 Body of the Creature burst, might, as well as the Venom, 
 excite the Disturbance, (altho Mr. Boyle s Case of a Person 
 blinded by this Liquor dropping from the living Spider, 
 makes the latter sufficient ;) yet observing the great Tume 
 faction of the Lips, together with the other Symptoms not 
 likely to arise from simple Heat, I was inclin d to believe a 
 real Poison in the Case ; and therefore not daring to let her 
 Blood in the Arm [If a man s throat were cut in those old 
 days, the doctor would come and bleed the other end of him], 
 1 did, however, with good Success, set Leeches to her Tem 
 ples, which took off much of the Inflammation ; and her 
 Pain was likewise abated, by instilling into her Eyes a thin 
 Mucilage of the Seeds of Quinces and white Poppies ex 
 tracted with Rose-water ; yet the Swelling on the Lips in 
 creased ; upon which, in the Night, she wore a Cataplasm 
 prepared by boiling the Leaves of Scordium, Rue, and Elder- 
 flowers, and afterwards thicken d with the Meal of Vetches. 
 In the mean time, her Vomiting having left her, she had 
 given her, between whiles, a little Draught of distill d Water 
 of Carduus Benedictus and Scordium, with some of the 
 Theriaca dissolved ; and upon going off of the Symptoms, 
 an old Woman came luckily in, who, with Assurance suitable 
 to those People, (whose Ignorance and Poverty is their 
 Safety and Protection,) took off the Dressings, promising to 
 cure her in two Days time, altho she made it as many Weeks, 
 yet had the Reputation of the Cure ; applying only Plantain 
 Leaves bruis d and mixed with Cobwebs, dropping the Juice 
 into her Eye, and giving some Spoonfuls of the same in 
 wardly, two or three times a day. 
 
 So ends the wonderful affair. Whereupon the 
 
256 A MAJESTIC LITER A K Y FOSSIL. 
 
 sage gives Mr. Turner the following shot strength 
 ening it with italics and passes calmly on: 
 
 / must remark upon this History, that the Plantain, as a 
 Cooler, was much more likely to cure this Disorder than warmer 
 Applications and Medicines&quot; 
 
 How strange that narrative sounds to-day, and 
 how grotesque, when one reflects that it was a grave 
 contribution to medical &quot;science&quot; by an old and 
 reputable physician ! Here was all this to-do two 
 weeks of it over a woman who had scorched her 
 eye and her lips with candle grease. The poor 
 wench is as elaborately dosed, bled, embrocated, 
 and otherwise harried and bedeviled, as if there had 
 been really something the matter with her; and 
 when a sensible old woman comes along at last, and 
 treats the trivial case in a sensible way, the educated 
 ignoramus rails at her ignorance, serenely uncon 
 scious of his own. It is pretty suggestive of the 
 former snail pace of medical progress that the spider 
 retained his terrors during three thousand years, 
 and only lost them within the last thirty or forty. 
 
 Observe what imagination can do. &quot;This same 
 young Woman &quot; used to be so affected by the strong 
 (imaginary) smell which emanated from the burning 
 spiders that &quot; the Objects about her seem d to turn 
 round; she grew faint also with cold Sweats, and 
 
A MAJES TIC LI TERA R Y FOSSIL. 257 
 
 sometimes a light Vomiting.&quot; There could have 
 been Beer in that cellar as well as Spiders. 
 
 Here are some more of the effects of imagination: 
 &quot; Sennertus takes Notice of the Signs of the Bite or 
 Sting of this Insect to be a Stupor or Numbness 
 upon the Part, with a sense of Cold, Horror, or 
 Swelling of the Abdomen, Paleness of the Face, in 
 voluntary Tears, Trembling, Contractions, a (****), 
 Convulsions, cold Sweats; but these latter chiefly 
 when the Poison has been received inwardly,&quot; 
 whereas the modern physician holds that a few 
 spiders taken inwardly, by a bird or a man, will do 
 neither party any harm. 
 
 The above &quot;Signs&quot; are not restricted to spider 
 bites often they merely indicate fright. I have 
 seen a person with a hornet in his pantaloons ex 
 hibit them all. 
 
 As to the Cure, not slighting the usual Alexipharmics 
 taken internally, the Place bitten must be. immediately 
 washed with Salt Water, or a Sponge dipped in hot Vinegar, 
 or fomented with a Decoction of Mallows, Origanum, and 
 Mother of Thyme ; after which a Cataplasm must be laid on 
 of the Leaves of Bay, Rue, Leeks, and the Meal of Barley, 
 boiled with Vinegar, or of Garlick and Onions, contused 
 with Goat s Dung and fat Figs. Mean time the Patient 
 should eat Garlick and drink Wine freely. 
 
 As for me, I should prefer the spider bite. Let 
 us close this review with a sample or two of the 
 
258 A MAJESTIC LITERARY FOSSIL. 
 
 earthquakes which the old-time doctor used to in 
 troduce into his patient when he could find room. 
 Under this head we have &quot;Alexander s Golden 
 Antidote,&quot; which is good for well, pretty much 
 everything. It is probably the old original first 
 patent-medicine. It is built as follows: 
 
 Take of Afarabocca, Henbane, Carpobalsamum, each two 
 Drams and a half ; of Cloves, Opium, Myrrh, Cyperus, each 
 two Drams ; of Opobalsamum, Indian Leaf, Cinamon, Zedo- 
 ary, Ginger, Coftus, Coral, Cassia, Euphorbium, Gum Traga- 
 canth, Frankincense, Styrax Calamita, Celtic, Nard, Spignel, 
 Hartwort, Mustard, Saxifrage, Dill, Anise, each one Dram ; 
 of Xylaloes, Rheum, Ponticum, Alipta Moschata, Castor, 
 Spikenard, Galangals, Opoponax, Anacardium, Mastich, 
 Brimstone, Peony, Erirgo, Pulp of Dates, red and white 
 Hermodactyls, Roses, Thyme, Acorns, Penyroyal, Gentian, 
 the Bark of the Root of Mandrake, Germander, Valerian, 
 Bishops Weed, Bay-Berries, long and white Pepper, Xylo- 
 balsamum, Carnabadium, Macedonian, Parsley-seeds, Lov- 
 age, the Seeds of Rue, aid Sinon, of each a Dram and a 
 half ; of pure Gold, pure Silver, Pearls not perforated, the 
 Blatta Byzantina, the Bone of the Stag s Heart, of each the 
 Quantity of fourteen Grains of Wheat ; of Sapphire, Em 
 erald, and Jasper Stones, each one Dram ; of Hasle- 
 nut, two Drams ; of Pellitory of Spain, Shavings of 
 Ivory, Calamus Odoratus, each the Quantity of twenty- 
 nine Grains of Wheat ; of Honey or Sugar a sufficient 
 Quantity. 
 
 Serve with a shovel. No; one might expect such 
 an injunction after such formidable preparation; but 
 it is not so. The dose recommended is &quot; the Quan- 
 
A MAJESTIC LITER A R Y FOSSIL. 259 
 
 tity of an Hasle-nut.&quot; Only that; it is because there 
 is so much jewelry in it, no doubt. 
 
 Aqua Limacum. Take a great Peck of Garden-snails, and 
 wash them in a great deal of Beer, and make your Chimney 
 very clean, and set a Bushel of Charcoal on Fire ; and when 
 they are thoroughly kindled, make a Hole in the Middle of 
 the Fire, and put the Snails in, and scatter more Fire amongst 
 them, and let them roast till they make a Noise ; then take 
 them out, and, with a Knife and coarse Cloth, pick and wipe 
 away all the green Froth : Then break them, Shells and all, 
 in a Stone Mortar. Take also a Quart of Earth-worms, and 
 scour them with Salt, divers times over. Then take two 
 Handfuls of Angelica and lay them in the Bottom of the 
 Still ; next lay two Handfuls of Celandine ; next a Quart of 
 Rosemary-flowers ; then two Handfuls of Bears-foot and 
 Agrimony ; then Fenugreek ; then Turmerick ; of each one 
 Ounce : Red Dock-root, Bark of Barberry-trees, Wood- 
 sorrel, Betony, of each two Handfuls. Then lay the Snails 
 and Worms on the Top of the Herbs ; and then two Hand 
 fuls of Goose-dung, and two Handfuls of Sheep-dung. Then 
 put in three Gallons of Strong Ale, and place the pot where 
 you mean to set Fire -under it : Let it stand all Night, or 
 longer ; in the Morning put in three Ounces of Cloves well 
 beaten, and a small Quantity of Saffron, dry d to Powder; 
 then six Ounces of Shavings of Hartshorn, which must be 
 uppermost. Fix on the Head and Refrigeratory, and distil 
 according to Art. 
 
 There. The book does not say whether this is 
 all one dose, or whether you have a right to 
 split it and take a second chance at it, in case you 
 live. Also, the book does not seem to specify 
 what ailment it was for; but it is of no conse- 
 
260 A MAJESTIC LITERARY FOSSIL. 
 
 quence, for of course that would come out on the 
 inquest. 
 
 Upon looking further, I find that this formidable 
 nostrum is &quot;good for raising Flatulencies in the 
 Stomach &quot; meaning from the stomach, no doubt. 
 So it would appear that when our progenitors 
 chanced to swallow a sigh, they emptied a sewer 
 down their throats to expel it. It is like dislodging 
 skippers from cheese with artillery. 
 
 When you-reflect that your own father had to take 
 such medicines as the above, and that you would be 
 taking them to-day yourself but for the introduction 
 of homoeopathy, which forced the old-school doctor 
 to stir around and learn something of a rational 
 nature about his business, you may honestly feel 
 grateful that homoeopathy survived the attempts of 
 the allopathists to destroy it, even though you may 
 never employ any physician but an allopathist while 
 you live. 
 
 ^HS^ 
 
 OF THE \ 
 
 f UNIVERSITY ) 
 
 OF / 
 
 )P^X 
 
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