he Great- Mam mo thin Reform Convention. Mr. Trickel bosom 3 Pathetic Appeal P. 231. ,~4 W THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS: BEING THE REMINISCENCES, OBSERVATIONS, AND OPINIONS OF TIMOTHEUS TRAP, ESQ. INCLUDING A REPORT OF THE GREAT MAMMOTIIIC REFORM CONVENTION. EDITED BY THE AUTHOR OF "RECORDS OP THE BUBBLETON PARISH," ETC. Requeuing the reader, if he should find here and there something to please him.torest assured tbat tt was written expressly for intelligent readers like himself; but entreating him, should he find anything to dislike, tc tolerate it as one of these articles which the author has been obliged to write for readers of less Defined tasto. WASHINGTON IRVINO. BUFFALO: WANZEE, M9KIM & CO 1856. w Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1856, BY WANZER, McKIM & CO., In the Clerk s Office of the District Court for the Northern District of New York. e. B. F1LTON, STEREOTTPKR, . . . BUFFALO. DEDICATOEY. To BERTHA , IN ITALY. WHEN I read your first foreign letter written at Florence I confess to have experienced a momentary disappointment. The emotion was natural almost inevitable. Not a trace of the enthusiasm of travel, of the excitement of ever- changing scenes, was visible on your page. Not a word about the glories of Art, amid which you had moved for days, as in one continuous and inexhaustible gallery. Scarcely an allusion to that Historic Mausoleum, where eight centuries lie entombed with their magnificent trophies, like barbaric Conquerors sleeping beneath their spoils. You wrote as you would have written from 4 DEDICATORY. our obscurest native village about Friendship, Duty, and Home. Nothing you had seen in storied Italy, moved you like the hallowed images which those words represent; no light from those cher ishing skies no enchantment of ravishing Art or gray historic sign, could win your loyal heart from its honored and loving allegiance to these holy words in a nation s nomenclature! Friendship, Duty, and Home. I recalled all I had ever read of the fair City you have been permitted to greet its great Cathe dral, marble-cased, dating from the thirteenth cen tury, and yet incomplete emulating the deliberate maturing of the primeval strata, and conscious, as it were, of living for eternity ; St. Lorenzo, with its mausoleum of kings, its monuments of the Medici, and Michael Angelo s famous statues of Day and Night, Twilight and Dawn; affluent St. Croce, with its museum of Art, and its relics of the gifted and stately dead spreading its shelter- DEDICATOEY. 5 ing arch over the ethereal dust of Angelo and Alfieri; and, lying around those glorious walls, that rival Rome in the treasures they enclose the gardens and villas that are silvered by the winding Arno. Musing on these the enchantments that sur round you in a foreign land I have honored the simplicity and fidelity of the heart that still reserved its most vital feelings for the offices of Duty, and the communions of Friendship and Home. That fidelity which you have exhibited amid the blandishments of trans-Atlantic lands, I have attempted to emulate in my humble enterprise in Literature. For Literature is full of captivating invitations, as a foreign land is of novel and seductive scenes. The writer, like the traveller, has a choice of objects, and may aim at either luxuriant self-in dulgence or permanent benefit may write either 6 DEDICATORY. to pamper the whims of the public, and secure a transient popularity, or to cast into kindred hearts the vitality of his living thought, without inquiring how it may react upon his own fortunes or interest. As you have journeyed with a higher purpose than mere amusement, so I have written feeling that the writer, like the traveller, is responsible for his opportunities. I might have written a more popular book than this will prove, and might have given more dra matic interest to the characters and scenes that occupy these pages. But I had special objects to which these considerations were subservient ob jects which you will be at no loss to discover, and with which you will not fail to sympathize. It is no affectation of modesty to say now that these sheets are going out to meet their fate that I am by no means elated with my work. Written during isolated hours appropriated with difficulty from an exacting profession it is not DEDICATORY. 7 what I would fain have made it, with better gifts and ampler leisure. Such as it is, however, it must go out on its errand; and I think that there is no one in the wide w r orld who will receive it with more generous favor, or view its faults more leniently, than the early friend to whom I venture to inscribe it. A man who has the temerity to publish, may be supposed to have written not for the eyes of partial friends, alone but for strangers and aliens as well for all whom a favoring fate (that is, the bookseller) can seduce to his pages. He may not shelter himself, therefore, behind the lenient judg ment of those who are willing to pardon his book because it happens to be his indiscretion ; but must be forearmed against the possible verdict of others, who have no private motives for showing him mercy. Still, this icy certainty can not quench the pleasure I feel in the thought, that this book will go to many, as a memento of happy experiences 8 DEDICATORY. and faithful friendship recalling many a sunny day, and some cloudy hours, in the years that have faded and vanished; that it may have some chance of being read by household groups, with which I have sustained most intimate and affec tionate relations; and that its message humble as it is may be heard in those familiar homes whose genial light and love beam on my heart, from the scene of my daily cares. Wheresoever it may go, attend it, O peace of my heart ! And when it greets a face that memory has enshrined, may a happy reminiscence give it favor. These lines will meet you, Bertha months hence, I fear perhaps when you are turning from Rome to follow the summer up the Apen nines perhaps in secluded Switzerland perhaps in jubilant Paris. They will remind you of another summer already ancient in the chronology of our expe- DEDICATORY. 9 rience when Life was more an enchantment (because more a mystery) than it is to-day, but scarcely let me hope so sublime in its aspect and its meaning. They will recall the timorous ambition the meek ardor, and silent endeavor with which the modest maiden anticipated the woman s destiny, and grew familiar with the part she was to act in the coming scene. They would recall (could you ever forget) one whose memory is endeared not to yourself alone, or to me but to the thousands who know his worth and were blessed by his ministry generous, intrepid, loyal, upright spirit, that never saddened a human crea ture till he bade the world good-night! When I think of him of all his goodness, honor, sym pathy I feel that this volume could not go on its course with a better savor, than with his high worth embalmed in one of its initial pages. And now, Friend associated with that pre cious Long Ago to which every heart turns so 10 DEDICATORY. tenderly allow me to place these trivial papers in your hand. And while, in widely-severed scenes, it is given us to live and strive, may they prove a not unpleasing memento of your native land, and of the varied experience by which it is consecrated. CONTENTS. PRELIMINARY, w LETTER FIRST, In which Mr. Trap demonstrates the great moral propo sition, that wisdom is better than gold, and introduces us to a friend worth knowing, 19 LETTER SECOND, In which Mr. Trap relates a story, the like of which some persons can verify, and sets his face like a flint against one of our popular vices, 28 LETTER THIRD, Showing Mr. Trap s domestic arrangements, the good for tune of an idle man, and some incidental glimpses of human nature, 40 LETTER FOURTH, Mr. Trap is visited by two notable females, and considerably . edified by his friend, Peskiewitcb, 49 12 CONTENTS. LETTER FIFTH, Mr. Trap is put in possession of a remarkable literary secret, and a question of the first importance is almost discussed, . 65 LETTER SIXTH, Mr. Trap is assailed, both in his principles and his temper ; and marvels at the doctrines of Mrs. Harrowscratch, ... 61 LETTER SEVENTH, Being an exhibition of taste in matters literary and conven tional, 67 LETTER EIGHTH, Containing Peskiewitch s eloquent and magnanimous defence of Mrs. Harrowscratch, 74 LETTER NINTH, Showing how Mr. Trap himself became a reformer, though not one of the popular school, 79 LETTER TENTH, In which Amelia re-appears, and Mr. Trap is pensive and melancholy, ; 87 LETTER ELEVENTH, In which Mr. Trap gives evidence of not being politically " sound," and gives also a report of Dr. Fibloug s sermon, . 94 LETTER TWELFTH, Describing Mr. Trap s further tribulation with. Mrs. Harrow- scratch, and the departure of that adventurous female, . . 101 CONTENTS. 13 LETTER THIRTEENTH, Affords another glimpse of Mr. Trap s beneficence, and of hia political affinities; closing with an alarm, 103 LETTER FOURTEENTH, Describing Mr. Trap s miserable journey with Belshazzar, and an ala-inhig incident by the way, 109 LETTER FIFTEENTH, Describing the night drive, a nervous conversation, and the frightful discovery made on that exciting occasion, . . . .119 LETTER SIXTEENTH, Describing how they arrived at the tavern, and how Mr. Trap was induced to join a circle of rapping spiritualists also how he met an inestimable acquaintance, 130 LETTER SEVENTEENTH, In which Mr. Trap threatens the spiritualists with common sense, at which they are somewhat disgusted, and a violent sensation is finally produced, greatly to the prejudice of Bel shazzar, 1S9 LETTER EIGHTEENTH, In which is brought to light the incredible wickedness of Mrs. Harrowscratch, and the sudden confusion of that in comparable person, 147 LETTER NINETEENTH, Exhibiting Mr. Trap in one of his moralizing moods, and also affording a glimpse of the wise old gentleman as critic ; 14 CONTENTS. the whole letter being less dull than might have been ex pected, 163 LETTER TWENTIETH, In which ia shown how the apple of discord got into Mr. Trap s church, and his dubious success as grand pacificator, . 169 LETTER TWENTY-FIRST, Containing an allusion to Dr. Fiblong, and a strain of .decla mation more truthful than complimentary, 172 LETTER TWENTY-SECOND, In which Mr. Trap confesses his heresy, and discloses the terrible tragedy of his domestic life, ,, 177 LETTER TWENTY-THIRD, In which Mr. Trap confesses to having visited Amelia again, and describes her last interview with Chatterton, .... 204 THE VICISSITUDES OF A PORCELAIN PERSON, Found in Amelia s portfolio, 213 LETTER TWENTY-FOURTH, Mr. Trap hears Philemon Blotus dilate on spiritualism, and gives us his impressions with the most admirable frankness a very "injudicious" letter, with nothing to recommend it but honesty and common sense, . 243 LATER FROM TANGLETOWN, Arrival of the Fire-Eater train Health of Mr. Trap Pro- CONTENTS. 15 gress of Disunion Dr. Fiblong s position Rumors of Mrs. Harrowscratcb, etc., etc., etc 247 THE GREAT MAMMOTHIC REFORM CON VENTION, With proposals for unhinging society, and turning the world topsy-turvy, 255 TANGLETOWN AT THE LATEST ADVICES. In which the Editor arranges the final tableaux, and pays his respects to the company, with thanks it being the most impertinent act in the whole performance, 285 PEELTMINAEY. How the enterprising Editor came into posses sion of the ensuing Letters can hot be told without violating confidence. Let the curious reader be assured, however, that no unlawful means were resorted to in order to furnish so delectable an entertainment. While he should understand that we "Knights of the Quill" have our precious secrets in common with all jugglers from time immemorial into which everybody must not be allowed to penetrate; he may address himself to the feast in all innocence of heart, dismissing all scruples as to the agency by which he is served his concern being rather with the savor of the viands than with the goings-forth of the caterer. In presenting the "Tangletown Letters" to the public, the editor would aver that he has confined himself strictly to his own province in no case changing the original MS., (though some portions of it might, in his opinion be improved,) but merely 18 PRELIMINARY. supplying a few omissions in punctuation, and crossing out a few words that were repeated, in the haste with which Mr. Trap under the pres sure of excited feelings sometimes wrote. With these trivial exceptions, and the mere formality of numbering the letters, Mr. Trap s composition appears in its original form. The reader is now invited to try its quality. THE TANGLETOWN LETTEBS. LETTER FIR-ST. IN WHICH MR. TRAP DEMONSTRATES THE GREAT MORAL PROP OSITION, THAT WISDOM IS BETTER THAN GOLD, AND INTRO DUCES US TO A FRIEND WORTH KNOWING. FKANK: I have executed my purpose. I am free. Free from the thrall of business, from its exacting cares, from its harassing rivalries, and from its servile solicitudes. After twenty years hard service I have emancipated myself; some calm, free days are reserved to me yet, I trust, during which I may survey life a little more thoughtfully, and enjoy my waning day as it declines. Men are full of wonder at my decision. Not a few suspect me of being shaken in my reason; while others mindful of my reputation for eccen tricity say it is a whim which any one might have anticipated. A few venture to expostulate " Retire from business! Why, Trap, what in the 20 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. name of common sense do you mean? Did you not make twenty thousand a cool TWENTY THOU SAND last year? Are not your steamboat in vestments profitable beyond example? And the Tangletown Factory does that not pay you fifty per cent.?" All of which is measurably true, I answer; but the question now is, whether the Almighty created me on purpose that I should make as much money as possible, or whether I was sent into this world to accomplish certain other objects? I find in me faculties, sensations, and desires that do not seem to be fitted to the business of gain-getting, at all ; they render me no assistance in this pursuit, even in the most trying emergencies; and if the accumulation of wealth be the prime end of my existence, I need not have been furnished with them; for they only oppose and disconcert me, being in rebellion as often as once a week. And yet I begin to think that these persistent rebels are the noblest of my forces that they obey an authority higher than mine, when they refuse to help me in my financial calculations ; and so I am resolved to yield the contest to transfer my enterprise to other objects, and labor where these will serve me. I tell you, Frank, our worldly sagacity is not THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 21 what it boasts itself of being. It makes the most egregious blunders every day. Thus, only last summer, Worldly Sagacity said I was the owner of two steamboats. It was all a mistake, Frank ; the steamboats owned me! They controlled my time, weighed me down with care, deprived me of sleep, and treated me with all the rigor that an absolute master could impose upon his slave. There is old Nicholas Brick flint-hearted Old Nick, as he is called who is reputed to own all Bonus street. The truth is. \\is.tcnants own him. The most destitute person among them has a piece of the old miser, and the thousand processes of tor ture which they invent for him are enough to cure any man of the conceit of being a landlord. Poor old Nicholas ! There is not a moment of time, nor a faculty of mind he can fully call his own. He must run here and there, by day and by night he must tamper with lawyers he must go hungry, lose his sleep, and sacrifice every human comfort, at the beck of the veriest rogue that tenants his rooms. I can see that the old man s servitude is wearing him down. His frame shrivels and bends more and more his locks are spare and white his eyes twinkle with a dry, hard, anxious glare his 22 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. tottering gait and husky voice speak of exhausted vitality. He moves in the street, sometimes like one in a dream an anxious, turbulent dream, wherein phantoms and realities are so inextricably blended, that consciousness is balked, and reason jeered into frenzy. He loses the sense of passing things he answers at random when suddenly ad dressed, and complains now and then that build ings and people swim around him in the air. I suspect the old man s faculties are becoming disor dered. The flag-man has had to pull him off the track once or twice, when the train was coming in, and yesterday, one of the omnibus drivers had nearly put an end to his cares. The other evening I was observing a colored man employed in sawing some wood. He had been a slave down in Kentucky, but had succeeded in buying his freedom. He is now earning money that he may redeem his wife and two children from slavery. I stood observing him, as he toiled there late in the twilight, with a cheerful alacrity, beto kening a hopeful spirit ; and I thought of the per sistent resolution, the faith and the affection, that must animate and ennoble that poor son of a down trodden race. THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 23 My musing was interrupted by the withered figure of old Nicholas, tottering up the street, and driven by some of his merciless masters. "Ah, Nicholas!" I exclaimed, involuntarily, glancing from the negro to the old man, "if you could but buy your freedom, too ! " But no ; they call him rich, they envy him his wealth in many a home; but he has not where withal to buy the liberty which his dark-skinned brother has found at the bottom of a small purse. But let me give you another instance of the sin gular obtuseness of this thing we call Worldly Sagacity. There is my friend Herman, who lives in the small white cottage down in Meadow-Lark Lane. He built the cottage with the hard earnings of daily labor, slowly accumulated during some five years. He had married long before this, and his wife had proved herself worthy of so excellent a husband. She is well-bred, intelligent, industrious, cheerful, an excellent housekeeper, and withal quite pretty. They have suffered some trials and experienced some wrongs and what mortal has not? but they have borne them with fortitude and with 24 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. forgiveness, and have prospered in spite of all, cleav ing closer to each other amid the rigor of misfor tune, and finding in their mutual affection a solace for all their sorrows. They have two children one, a boy of three years, in whom I can discover nothing peculiar, and the other, a sweet, spiritual- featured girl of seven. I can not speak of this child without perpetrating some flighty extrava gance of language. To me she seems the sweetest, divinest daughter of God that ever gladdened my sight. Frank, I am a childless man, past the vigor of my days, and I do not murmur at what Provi dence has decreed for me ; but if it had pleased God to make me the father of such a child, I be lieve I would have been content, not only to have been poor, but to have suffered all human priva tions to gladden her patli across the world. (They have given this little seraph some abominable name in honor of some atrocious relative a Miss Moloch, I think but I have named her Au rora, and will call her nothing else.) Well, there, as I said, dwells my friend Herman, in Meadow-Lark Lane. He has advanced out of the shadow of Want, and his life-stream flows peaceful and still. He is the centre and bulwark of a charming home; the sun, in all his course, THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 25 does not illumine a happier dwelling; and when the evening lamp is lit, and that domestic band comes to encircle it, the chance visitor will see on every face that great content which passes utterance. Herman is a Christian. His pew is always oc cupied on Sunday, and he hears the preacher with earnest attention and devout faith, striving to put in practice the virtues which his conscience recog nizes. Herman is something of a student ; he buys all the sound books he can afford, particularly his tories and works on geology; and reads them aloud to his family during his leisure evenings explain ing the misty or equivocal passages as they occur. Herman is a good citizen ; he takes care to read enough in reference to political questions to pre vent his common sense from being conjured out of him by artful demagogues ; and, keeping clear of partisan bluster and mercenary intrigue, votes ac cording to his sense of justice. On all local or municipal questions, he is found to have an enlight ened opinion, and always favors those projects that are likely to benefit the largest number of persons. Yet, my friend Herman is by no means a conspic uous man here in Tangletown. He is never up for any office; he is a member of no patent safety committee ; he is not noticed by the newspapers. 26 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. If he were to die to-morrow, his obituary notice would not exceed two lines. In fact, he is an ob scure man. Worldly Sagacity does not know him, and, if introduced, would only turn up its nose supremely ! Suppose, Frank, you ask Worldly Sagacity what my friend Herman is worth. You will be told that he is little better than a beggar ; that, in the ex pressive language of Miss Superfina Upperten, he is just NOBODY. Here Worldly Sagacity blunders again proves itself blind as a post. For I maintain that Herman has greater posses sions more enduring wealth than any other person of my acquaintance. Vast and unmeasured tracts of the universe are his, over which, his rea son and fancy reign in sovereignty nobler than a king s. In that rich historic land which lies just behind the horizon of to-day, I have seen him occupying fields broader than the prairies, and more precious than our Western empires will ever prove. His principal wealth, you will observe, lies in countries utterly inaccessible to Nicholas Brick, and other persons of his stamp ; they have never found the way to its prolific shores : and sooner shall our adventurous ships cleave the ice- THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 27 bergs of the Pole opening an arctic path between the Continents than they discover a passage to that golden realm. Yet fail not to observe how secure and peaceful Herman s possessions are. They never tyrannize over him as the steamboats did over me, or as old Nicholas Brick s tenants do over him. They are exempt from taxation no revenue is wrung from them ; the sheriff can not lay his hands upon them ; they are infinitely beyond his reach. Railroads or factories can not disfigure them the elements can not waste them they are beyond the power of accidents or of decay. And, what is a still more important consideration as proving their infinite superiority to our wealth THEY ARE HIS, BOTH FOR TIME AND FOR ETERNITY. 28 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS, LETTER SECOND. IN WHICH MR. TRAP RELATES A STORY, THE LIKE OF WHICH SOME PERSONS CAN VERIFY, AND SETS HIS FACE LIKE A FLINT AGAINST ONE OF OUR POPULAR VICES. I HAVE just returned from a visit to Amelia. You may remember her, Frank, as you saw her in the bloom and luxuriance of her womanhood, the very season of her marriage. I think you met her at Nahant, when they were exhibiting her beauty in the matrimonial auction- room at Drew s, and adroitly soliciting bids from the effeminate coxcombs and supercilious nabobs that made up a large share of the congenial society at the hotel. You can not have forgotten the sen sation she created, the admiration she inspired, or the idolatrous worship she exacted. Not only were weak heads turned by the intoxication of her love liness, but men who had hitherto kept company with common sense, were brought under the spell of the young enchantress. I am not sure, Frank, but even you brought an offering to this fair idol ; but if you did, the act THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 29 became your years, and was justified by the rare beauty of Amelia ; so you may bear the "impeach ment" without a blush. I can never recall the idiotic and mercenary transactions of that ill-starred summer without a mingled emotion of sorrow and anger. Amelia appeared at Drew s arrayed for sacrifice ; she was carried thither on purpose to be offered up. Old Minos, her father sordid, perverse old man whose whole life had hitherto been devoted to gain, all at once conceived a new absurdity, more monstrous than the first. He would have a splen did marriage his daughter should be mated with some "eligible" person, and he would delight his eyes by seeing her the mistress of some princely establishment perhaps of one of the palaces on the Avenue. So Amelia came to the altar of Pluto, and was ready to be offered. The admiring interest she awakened in every beholder, the flatteries and idolatries lavished upon her even to the fatal mo ment that decided her destiny were only the adornments and accessories of the sacrifice. Never was a more precious victim immolated since hea then superstition and immorality began to scourge and stain a Christian land. But let me descend from this hyperbolical eleva- 30 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. tion, and rehearse the story to you in a confidential undertone : There were that summer at Nahant, two con spicuous petitioners for Amelia s hand. One was a young lawyer, of unblemished character, high men tal promise, and superior personal attractions. I think that Amelia, in her secret heart, favored him ; though she was too well trained in the morality of fashionable life to allow her preference to be known. For myself, knowing and esteeming Ram sey as I did for I had been familiar with his character since he was a boy I was anxious that he might succeed in this momentous " case." Avail ing myself of the privilege accorded me by friend ship, and trusting somewhat to the influence of my maturer age, I sought, by various devices and op portune suggestions, to advance his suit in the heart of the splendid girl. It proved altogether a vain effort ; and I advise you, Frank, never to have aught to do with any match-making of which you are not one of the par ties. It is a thankless exhibition of kindness. It is what no "good intentions" however immacu late will justify. People will submit to be helped to anything but love. That they prefer to take un solicited; and if it can be done by force of arms, in THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 31 the face of penalties so much the better! It occurs to me sometimes that, had I not taken such pains to recommend poor Ramsey to the affection of the wilful beauty, she might have married him in spite of all. The other suitor was a rich merchant, of Jewish extraction, named Belshazzar. I know not what recommendations Mr. Belshazzar possessed, aside from his wealth and social position ; I have never been fortunate enough to discover any. As regards his personal appearance, he is by no means attrac tive. His manners provided he has no " designs " upon you are neither winning nor prepossessing. And with reference to moral qualities, he is noted neither for the integrity of his business transactions nor for the purity of his private life. Old Minos let Pluto have the praise ! decided that Mr. Belshazzar was an "eligible" match for his daughter; he had the essential qualification he was reputed to be worth three millions. Amelia, in spite of false training, false views, false friends the whole infernal trinity of false hood in which she dwelt demurred to this highly "eligible" arrangement; for, in the girl s heart were the germs of genuine womanhood, and an instinct warned her, perhaps, that the peace of her 32 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. whole life was about to be jeopardized. But her serums were artfully met her instinctive repug nance perseveringly combatted her pride and ambition adroitly appealed to ; and, in an evil mo ment she consented, and the sacrifice was consum mated. Could she know, with her limited experi ence could she perceive, with all those false lights glaring balefully across her reason what she had yielded up to that demon whom old Minos served? What hopes of felicity, what day-dreams of future affection, what opportunities for virtuous life-labor, what possibilities of Christian usefulness, she laid upon that black and accursed altar? No ; she could not know, or suspect the fearful sum of her sacrifice ; and I have always laid the reproach of the deed upon old Minos, giving her only my compassion. After Amelia became the wife of Belshazzar his wife according to the law of the State and the conventional sentiment of society I thought it would be pleasant to forget her existence. I could not think of her as the wife of that Israelitish mercenary, without a kind of smouldering rage. I declined the invitation to be present at the great bridal banquet fearing that I might be tempted in some spasm of wrath, to throttle old Minos, or at least throw a wine-glass at the detestable bride- THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 33 groom. There were edifying notices of the nup tial ceremonies in all the principal newspapers, and bridal presents, journeyings, fetes, and congrat ulations gave an imposing air to the transaction ; but it was months before I could bear any allusion to it, or even recall the beautiful image of my young friend under its present desecration, without a sensation of disgust. But time though it has not reconciled me to this marriage, and never can has taught me the propriety of making the best of it. I can look at the hateful reality, at least, without losing my equanimity, or distorting my countenance. Last week I unexpectedly met Amelia I can never call her Mrs. Belshazzar at the Opera House. I had gone there, for the first time in my life, at the earnest entreaty of my friend Peskie- witch, to hear the last Italian singer. Now, Pes- kiewitch is a great judge of music in general, and of opera music in particular ; (he told me, in confi dence, that he wrote those musical criticisms in the Tangletowri Mirror which are so difficult to be un derstood;) and, as he went into ecstasies over the performance of this be-jeweled and screeching Italian, I suppose it was a fine entertainment; but 2* 34 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. I confess I could not understand what it all meant, though I gave my whole attention to the fantastic dresses, and tragic attitudes, and brandishing of daggers, and quavering and screaming of voices and instruments, until my head ached with the fruitless effort. Well, after the mysterious business was all over, and the audience beginning to disperse while Peskiewitch was confounding me even more than the performance, by his enthusiastic commentaries upon it, my name was suddenly pronounced by a familiar voice; and, upon looking around at the speaker, I beheld Amelia. She was evidently so much gratified by the meeting I had not seen her since her marriage and so urgent in her re quest that I should visit her, that I engaged to call the following day. Belshazzar was not there, but she had the arm of a stranger, whom she introduced as Cousin Somebody the name escaping me as we hurried through the corridor. The next morning, soon as I could disengage myself from Peskiewitch, (who would fain have carried me off to a nine-o clock rehearsal,) I pro ceeded to pay my respects to Amelia, at Belshaz- zar s mansion. Mr. Trap "visits Amelia" at Belshazzar s palace P. :\ THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 35 The Israelitish extortioner has built a palace a strange, fantastic, Gothic monstrosity with steep turrets, projecting angles, and antique carv ings outside, and mysterious passages, unshapely apartments, with unheard-of furniture, and, as I half suspect, dismal torture-chambers within. The building is some three miles from the city, and stands in the midst of spacious grounds, richly shrubberied, and waving with fine trees some what resembling a park. The grounds in the rear are bounded by the Hudson, from which one may ascend to the very steps of the palace by a succes sion of curving terraces. There is a kind of barbaric munificence and splendor investing the place, and I felt, as I passed beneath the carved image over the portal, and fol lowed the swarthy usher into one of the quaintly furnished rooms, much as I fancy I might on enter ing the royal den of some despotic Oriental, where the visitor s mind is divided between contemplation of the luxury before his eyes, and reflections on the frightful cost at which it is maintained. Amelia received me with an air of considerable gayety; but it was not difficult to see that her sprightliness was affected, and hard to be sustained. 36 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. A false mood, like false coin, may generally be detected by the ring. " Methinks thou ringest too loud for true metal," was Cromwell s remark to a suspected Cavalier. And so, as I mused on the words and demeanor of my fair friend, I said to myself, "This gayety is too demonstrative to be real; there is in it an undertone of secret sorrow." The captive Mexican prince, as the Spanish Chronicles tell, when stretched upon a bed of live coals, forced a smile over his agonized features, and said, "Am I not upon a bed of roses?" That act of heroic dissimulation \vas done to taunt the enemies of the sufferer; but it was neither smile ^nor words that abated the torture. So my poor friend, thought I, by an amiable device of pride and friendship, puts on the blithesome airs of con tent, and moulds her lip to smile, and tunes her voice to the merry laugh; but she can neither change the inward pain into the pleasure she affects, nor hinder its half-smothered cry from marring her fictitious gayety. We talked awhile of old scenes in which we had borne a part, and, as her girlish life rose vividly be fore her, I could see a remorseless shadow steal across her face. Suddenly her forced vivacity was quenched, her voice fell into a mechanical mono- THE TANGLETOWN LETTEES. 37 tone, her glance sought the ground, and she sub sided into silent reverie. I paused, too, and surveyed that beautiful wo man, whose countenance recorded but too faith fully the emotions of her perturbed spirit, and whose heaving breast betokened the rebellion of a nature that strove against its thraldom in vain. Amelia arose, and with an effort to resume her former demeanor, led me through various rooms, that I might observe all the splendor and luxury of Belshazzar s palace. We lingered some time in a spacious picture-gallery, where the "finest works of the old masters" as Amelia certified and a few fresh-looking modern landscapes, hung in their massive frames. All in all, it is truly an enchanting place though such an endless variety of glittering ob jects, like a museum, rather tends to weary the sight, and can not invite repose, or foster the healthy home feelings, as do the sober attractions of a less ostentatious abode. Amelia is the nominal mistress of all this splen dor the queen of England has scarcely a more luxuriant home; she never lacks a pleasure that wealth can purchase, or a favor that fashion can bestow. But while she possesses all this, Belshaz- 38 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. zar possesses her ; she has Pluto s gift with Pluto s society. She loves not this man this cold, sinu ous, obdurate, heartless Belshazzar she never did s he never can. Yet stands he at the gate of felicity, trampling the buds of hope that once were in her heart, and forbidding the approach of all human affection forever. She has no child for whom the fire of love may be lighted in the polar solitudes of her unillumined being; there is no human creature there to make melody in her dis cordant heart, or to show her that life is indeed a gift that merits praise. A jeweled corpse, she was borne to this splendid tomb; and here a ghost that can neither leave the earth, nor yet share its joys she walks and waits! And yet, Frank, how many girls I know at this very moment, who are being educated as Amelia was who are being taught that beauty is given them to facilitate conquests ; that accomplishments are more important than principles ; that a wealthy or " eligible " marriage is the chief object for which a woman ought to strive ! In many a household corner sits old Minos at his twilight cogitations, preparing, in that foolish, cruel heart of his, another precious sacrifice to Pluto. Before him stands the innocent victim THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 39 all unconscious, as yet, of Belshazzar and his gilded tomb and she turns to him a countenance brighter than the firelight, because the rays of heaven linger upon it still. Can he not read, in that clear brow and vivacious eye in that budding womanhood, instinct with grace and modesty, with generosity and affection a nobler purpose from the Creator, and possibilities of a truer mission, than his sordid heart would decree ? Adieu, my dear fellow: I will write you more concerning Amelia, hereafter. 40 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. LETTER THIRD. SHOWING MR. TRAP S DOMESTIC ARRANGEMENTS, THE GOOD- FORTUNE OF AN IDLE MAN, AND SOME INCIDENTAL GLIMPSES OF HUMAN NATURE, IT is time I gave you some information concern ing my home. Soon as I resolved to retire from business, it occurred to me that I might obtain more genial quarters than I had found at Mrs. Clackenbacker s genteel but somewhat overcrowded boarding-house ; and accordingly, I employed my friend Peskiewitch to discover, if possible, some healthy and quiet re treat in the suburbs of the town, where I might establish a more agreeable home. Peskiewitch executed his commission so zealously, that by the time I was ready to escape from the house of bondage that smutty old warehouse on Trap s Wharf he had arranged for the purchase of a snug mansion in Pineapple street, and it only wanted the drawing of the deed, to put me in possession of the same. On examination, I found the place well adapted THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 41 to my purpose, save that some of the rooms were rather small, and the surrounding grounds in want of renovation. But, as Peskiewitch suggested, one of these defects might be remedied by taking down a few partitions, and the other by keeping an in dustrious gardener. I assented, and secured the place at once. While the workmen were engaged in putting the house and grounds in order, I reflected where I might find the proper housekeeper. Rumors began to be rife among my acquaintance that I meditated marriage again; and I believe I was honored by having my name connected with that of nearly every marriageable lady in Tangle- town. I suppose I ought to feel grateful for the enlarged interest that has been manifested in my welfare, and for the flattering expectations that were entertained concerning me ; but I confess such is the perverseness of my nature to a sensa tion of annoyance, rather than of satisfaction, at the progress of these rumors. About the same time, too, I was led to appre ciate, as I never did before, the hospitality of many of my Tarigletown acquaintances. I received innu merable invitations to take tea with families which I had scarcely known, and was made the object of 42 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. attentions that were as affecting as they were un expected. Ah, Frank, there is more kindness among mankind than we suppose. People are not so selfish as they seem. My Tangletown friends, whom I had considered as mostly indifferent to my welfare, no sooner discovered that I was releasing myself from the cares of business, and was disposed to make a rational use of the remainder of my life, than they showed a generous sympathy in my good resolution, and gave me a cordial welcome to their homes. I have thus been enabled of late to culti vate my somewhat neglected social faculties, and to overcome much of my diffidence, by mingling a good deal in female society. For much of my time has been spent, like that of the clergyman, whom I occasionally meet at the house of mutual friends, in visiting the fairer part of my acquaint ance ; and I am particularly indebted to the society of some half dozen young ladies, who, considering my years and their evident disinterestedness, merit my thanks for their generous attentions. THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 43 Among those who have shown the most solici tude for my happiness, and whose hospitality is most exuberant, is Mrs. Pulp a widow, in humble circumstances, with two amiable daughters. Mrs. Pulp is a lady, who, though narrowed in her means of subsistence, and obliged to contend against actual want, is, nevertheless, full of sympathy with the welfare of others, and ready to render counsel in difficult emergencies. I consulted Mrs. Pulp in reference to the house keeping business. The kind lady offered many wise suggestions, which proved that her domestic edu cation had been well attended to, or at least that experience had taught her the true method of managing household matters. But when I asked her whether she knew any well qualified person who would be willing to en gage in my service, she remarked, after considera ble reflection, that it was extremely difficult to find housekeepers of exactly the right sort ; and then, passing from the subject, began to speak of her eldest daughter, of whose many shining qualities I was delighted to hear. While the mother was speaking thus, I observed tnat the young lady grew quite red with blush ing a circumstance that tended to raise her very 44 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. much in my estimation, as it proved the modesty and humility of her spirit ; and I went away think ing more highly of both mother and daughter.* Somewhat disappointed that Mrs. Pulp had not been able to recommend a housekeeper to me, I thought I could not do better than make, as I did on the following day, a proposition to Peskiewitch. "Peskie witch," said I, "the house is, I perceive, nearly ready for my reception; the question is, who shall I find to manage its domestic economy?" "I am surprised that you should talk of econ omy a man of your inexhaustible income," re turned Peskiewitch, bluntly. " My wife urges that virtue until I am out of patience with it." " You misconceive me," answered I. "What I mean is, where shall I find a judicious person to manage my household?" Peskiewitch nodded, and then fell off into meditation. * A circumstance that indicates extraordinary dullness on Mr. Trap s part, in iny opinion. [EDITOR TANOLETOWN LETTERS.] THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 45 " Peskiewitch, my friend," said 1, your wife is a good housekeeper, I think." "Excellent, sir, but for a few faults." "And what are they?" "Why, sir," (taking off his hat and scratching his head,) " she too frequently complains that there is no flour in the barrel, v id accuses me of being a worthless lout because I spend now and then a day in writing musical criticisms for the Mirror, while some vulgar drudgery happens to lie within reach neglected!" " Is that all ? " "Principally, sir; her offences are mainly of that sort. She is wanting in a due appreciation of those intellectual pursuits to which I occasionally turn, as a relief from the drudgery of life." "Then I understand that your wife s defects arise from circumstances, rather than from any flaw of temper. For instance, were there always flour enough in the barrel, and no work neglected while you are employed in writing your criticisms, I presume she would prove herself nearly faultless? " "I sincerely believe she would; as she is not by nature given to testiness of temper, and only be trays the infirmity of a sharp tongue in the absence of some of those physical comforts, on which the 46 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. simple-minded set a preposterous value, but which intellectual men hold in merited contempt J " Peskiewitch," said I, after a moment s reflec tion, "I perceive that you are disinclined to those pursuits which men call useful, and are disposed to indulge those tastes and habits the utility of which it would be hard to discover. In short, you are poetical by temperament, intellectual by profession, and idle by practice. You are what the world calls a good-for-nothing. Do n t interrupt me, Peskie witch; I know your good parts, and prize them. And what I particularly wish to say is this : Take your family into my house and live there. I will furnish the larder, and your wife shall be mistress of the mansion. I will free you from the trouble some and ill-requited obligation of providing the "physical comforts," and you shall furnish me with those intellectual accomplishments and musi cal instincts which my dullness may enable you to impart. Perhaps I may buy the children new gowns on their birthdays, and they may frolic for me on the lawn when I have no other amusement. Thus we shall render unto each other mutual serv ice dovetail our several facilities into our several wants, and so exemplify the amiable principle of a so cial philosophy now being extensively promulgated." THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 47 As I had foreseen, Peskiewitch gladly accepted the proposition; and, in view of the prospect of boundless leisure, instantly projected a poem of forty cantos. In the course of a few days, I made it convenient to inform Mrs. Pulp of my arrangement, and was rather disconcerted to find that it did not recom mend itself to her judgment. She told me plainly, and with an emphasis I had not before discovered in her voice, that I had committed a piece of palpable folly; and then she proceeded to dilate on the peculiarities of Peskiewitch, in terms that were certainly not flattering to that individual. I am sorry not to have secured the approval of Mrs. Pulp ; but the experiment promises well, nev ertheless. Mrs. Peskiewitch is a w r orthy w^oman, and a tidy, enterprising housekeeper. The children there are two of them are tol erably well trained. One of them had the habit of brandishing the soup-ladle at the dinner-table, much as an Afghan horseman does his cimeter when riding into battle; and the othei has, on two or three occasions, cast my slippers and hand kerchief into the grate. But I am gradually dis couraging these performances ; and, though now and then provoked by some juvenile prank, I 48 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. reflect liow much better it is that I should suffer these trifling annoyances, than that these children should want for bread which I fear has sometimes been the case, while their father was employed in composing criticisms for the Mirror. As for Peskiewitch, I contrive to make him use ful in various respects. I have employed him, dur ing most of the time for the last three weeks, in fitting up the front chamber for a library-room. I have been guided by his judgment in the selection of the books, and I must confess, that, so far as elegance of binding and uniformity of size are concerned, I have never known a more attractive collection. Festiewitch dilates on the career of the Strong minded P. f>0. THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 49 LETTER FOURTH. MR. TRAP IS VISITED BY TWO NOTABLE FEMALES, AND CONSID ERABLY EDIFIED BY HIS FRIEND, PESKIEWITCH. THE house is honored this week by the presence of two distinguished guests, for whose company I am indebted to my invaluable Peskiewitch. They are two enterprising females; one is an authoress of world-wide celebrity, and the other is what she calls a "reformer." (I questioned Pes kiewitch, privately, as to the meaning of this latter term, when appropriated by a modern woman, per ceiving at once by the demeanor of Mrs. Harrow- scratch that it must have acquired some recondite signification during the last twenty years ; but Pes kiewitch said that my inquiry w T as too profound to be answered extemporaneously, and too important to be answered in haste ; and so he has promised to investigate the matter, and furnish me with an elaborate reply in writing.) Miss Roxana Peeler, the authoress, and Mrs. Judah Harrowscratch, the reformer, are, of course, astonishingly intellectual. I confess, Frank, I have 3 50 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. been hitherto deplorably ignorant of intellectual society; and am now quite unfitted to hold inter course with minds as gifted and soaring as those of my distinguished guests. I observe that Miss Peeler never condescends to use words of less than four syllables, except in compassion toward very inferior minds ; while Mrs. Harrowscratch deals in a language as strange to my ears as the ancient Egyptian. After listening to this lady s first speech for by this term must I dignify the first observations she addressed to me I rushed to the Dictionary, (Webster s Unabridged,) with two or three of the last words clutched in my memory, in order to find out, if possible, what it all meant. But not one of those mysterious words did I find ; and it was rather consoling to ascertain that Web ster was, apparently, as ignorant of them as myself; though I could not lose sight of the difficulty of prosecuting an acquaintance with one who persisted in ignoring the common forms of speech. As usual, I resorted to Peskiewitch for information. "Can you tell me," said I, "what that intrepid and sonorous lady intended to say to me?" Peskiewitch wal plunged deep in reverie. lie did not hear me, apparently. THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 51 "I fear," resumed I, "that I must have appeared a little foolish in trying to make my acknowledg ments for that handsome address ; but the truth is, I scarcely understood a word of the whole oration." My friend shook his head expressively. "She is a wonderful female," said he, solemnly; "her developments are wonderful." "But do you understand her? is she intelligi ble?" demanded I. "That depends," answered Peskiewitch, eva sively, "on the question whether I occupy her SPHERE or not." "Her sphere?" "Yes; and whether there be a harmonic con junction." "A harmonic conjunction! What the deuce may that be ? "Why, that s a sort of interfusion of the normal afFectionalities." "Yes, I remember that was one of her phrases; but what, in the name of heaven, does it mean?" "Now God forbid that I should presume to in terpret her sublime language," answered P., scratch ing his head vehemently; "but I am satisfied there s something great at the bottom of it indeed, she is the leader of an association of hide- 52 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. pendent females, known all over the world as THE STRONG-MINDED WOMEN." "Indeed!" " Yes, Mr. Trap. It is the most wonderful asso ciation the world ever saw." "Ah!" "Every female belonging to it has a MISSION. You heard Mrs. Judah Harrowscratch say she had a mission, did you not? " "Yes; and, by the way, she has a remarkably masculine voice to fulfill it wdth, besides." "A capital voice for the bar or the Senate, Mr. Trap. What cadences ! " "Do you mean that the MISSION of these ladies points in that direction?" "Even so; besides their mission, these females all have a career. "Ah, really!" "Yes ; and they have a destiny to fulfill ; as pirations to realize ; and the dignity of woman to vindicate. Indeed, Mr. Trap, you have no idea to what arduous undertakings they are pledged." I mused for a few moments without reply. In spite of myself, I felt a little troubled by the information Peskiewitch had afforded me. "And do these strong-minded ladies," said I, THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 53 "among their other arduous labors, contemplate abolishing the English language?" "Undoubtedly," answered my friend; "and they will give you the best of reasons for sweeping it away, root and branch." "That were surely barbarous," said I, with mo mentary indignation; "what! abolish the language of Shakspeare and Milton, of Goldsmith and Irv ing, of Macaulay and Prescott?" " Why, you must know, Mr. Trap," returned my friend, sententiously, "that every great develop ment of humanity must have a language befitting its ideas. The English tongue answered the purposes of the benighted Past well enough ; but it won t do for the developments of the present age. We have so many new and tremendous ideas, and we progress at such furious speed now-a-days, that the old vehicle of speech breaks down with us. We must have words of ten or twelve syllables to bear up our great thoughts, and the terminations must be such as suggest something delicious, har monious, and Paradisaical. Moreover, the English tongue \vas formed in a debased state of society, and recognizes the subjection of the woman to the man ; now, do you think that these strong-minded females, when they shall have accomplished their 54 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. * mission, and run their career, and secured their independence of masculine authority, and made society over according to their own pattern will tolerate a language spoken in the days of their bondage, and only adapted to a servile womanhood? ]^p, sir ; they will have a new vocabulary through out, if it be only for the sake of showing you what they are capable of; and if they invent an unintel ligible language, it will only afford them another facility for intrigue, and for plotting against their oppressors ! " I was quite daunted by this powerful reasoning, and seriously considered how I might propitiate my formidable guests, so as not to become involved in their renovating "mission." THE TANGLET OWN LETTERS. 55 LETTER FIFTH. MR. TRAP IS PUT IN POSSESSION OF A REMARKABLE LITERARY SECRET, AND A QUESTION OF THE FIRST IMPORTANCE IS AL- MO.T DISCUSSED. AFTER the speech to which I have alluded, Mrs. Harrowscratch did not favor us with more of her company for the day confining herself to her chamber, in order to complete, as she informed me, an Essay on the " Conditions and Quintessence of Normal Affection " a paper which, according to Peskiewitch, is destined to convulse human society. Miss Peeler, how r ever, having no literary labor on hand at present, gave us the benefit of her soci ety for the remainder of the day. She is highly communicative for so distinguished a person, talking with the utmost freedom of her literary triumphs, and alluding to the insolence of certain critics in a manner that plainly indicates how superior she is to their censures. Her modesty and politeness are equally conspicu ous ; for, taking compassion on the diffidence that unavoidably possesses inferior minds, when in her 56 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. presence, she generously monopolizes the conversa tion, and exacts scarcely more of others than pleased attention and occasional applause. "Unquestionably, Mr. Trap would be entertained by hearing the commencement of my career as an authoress?" suggested Miss Peeler. I assured Miss Peeler that she would oblige me extremely by rehearsing the happy circumstance. "You must not be too much astonished, then," resumed the lady, making a deprecating gesture, "when I inform you that I experienced my first triumph as a writer, in so humble a journal as the Sweet Brier of Boston ! " I endeavored to be as little astonished as the nature of the communication would admit. "Yes," resumed Miss Peeler, "my entrance into the field of Literature was quite fortuitous. There happened to be several ugly women of my acquaint ance, whom I had caricatured for the innocent amusement of particular friends describing them of course under fictitious names, and winding up the sketches with some sharp advice, after the manner of Mrs. Caudle. It chanced one day that I exhibited some of these papers to my brother the eloquent Keverend Pompous Peeler and he was so much amused by them, that he procured THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 57 their insertion in the Sweet Brier, over my popular signature of DELIA DAISY. They were uni versally admired the newspapers copied them and the publisher of the Sweet Brier immediately engaged me as a regular contributor, at a handsome remuneration." Peskie witch, who, with myself, was listening to this confidential statement, here launched forth a stream of rather murky rhetoric, in praise of those successful sketches; after which the eminent authoress resumed : " But the article that elicited the most meritori ous acclamation was my letter to the French Em press. I labored that article for two days, eating red pepper and drinking vinegar all the while ; and I believe that I made it express all the hatred, and all the contempt, and all the abhorrence felt by our virtuous and modest American women, for the creature who degraded herself to a marriage with Louis Napoleon." " That was grand ! " exclaimed Peskiewitch ; "how the French Empress must have smarted under your castigation ! " "Provided she ever became conscious of it," said I, " for possibly Miss Peeler s reputation was not so great at that time, as to make her writings 3* 58 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. generally known at the French court. The Sweet Brier is doubtless universally read in Boston, and by all persons on the lookout for choice specimens of American literature ; but it may be, neverthe less, that the superficial people of Paris are quite ignorant of its merits." " American newspapers," answered Miss Peeler, " are widely read in Europe, and our literature is highly popular there. Witness the unprecedented sale of my Daisy Stalks among the English. However, as regards the letter in question, I directed that a copy should be duly mailed to the Empress Eugenia enclosing my real name, so that she might have an opportunity to clear up her character in a reply, provided she should have any palliating facts to offer for her conduct." " That was genero-us," observed Peskiewitch ; "I suppose you never heard from her, though." "Never," responded Miss Peeler; "but I en joyed the satisfaction of letting her know what the sentiments of American females are in regard to such things." "Yes," said Peskiewitch, profoundly, "Amer ican females are notable females, altogether; they have a regard to propriety even my wife THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 59 has, though not by any means an intellectual person ! " "I am not so sure," I observed, (thinking of Amelia s marriage with Belshazzar,) "that we have not here and there a countrywoman who would have married Louis Napoleon readily enough, for the sake of the power and position he had to bestow." "It is a libelous thought, sir ! " exclaimed Miss Peeler; "American women respect themselves; they never marry from sordid motives ; but always prefer character to money, and affection to station and show." "True," affirmed Peskiewitch ; "there never was an American girl dazzled by a rich suitor, nor one that stifled the best desire of her heart for the sake of having servants in livery and owning a car riage!" But this must have been said in irony, for Peskiewitch knows Amelia s history as well as I do. Mrs. Pulp came in at this juncture, and the conversation was broken, off. Mrs. Pulp remained till tea, and during the meal, undertook to impart some information to the housekeeper concerning the best method of making tarts. But, for some reason, Mrs. Peskiewitch was 60 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. loth to be instructed ; and, in the midst of the lec ture, one of the children launched a stewed plum full upon the lace collar of my guest, which nat urally enough changed the subject. I must see that these children are kept from the table when we have company. THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 61 LETTER SIXTH. MR. TRAP IS ASSAILED, BOTH IN HIS PRINCIPLES AND HIS TEMPER; AND MARVELS AT THE DOCTRINES OF MRS. HARROWSCRATCH. YESTEEDAY I experienced a number of annoy ances ; and, although I am almost ashamed to con fess it, my temper was a little chafed by them. In the morning, before I had enjoyed my coffee, I was addressed by Mrs. Judah Harrowscratch, in another long oration, the general scope of which seemed to bear upon her mission, though the details of the thing were for some time utterly incomprehensible. At last, by dint of the closest attention, and a pretty sharp exercise of the inductive faculty, I began to apprehend portions of the discourse. I own I was not prepared to hear the sentiments which this lady had the intrepidity to deliver. Perhaps the fault is in myself. Perhaps, ab sorbed in business as I have been for twenty years, I have fallen hopelessly behind the better lights of our time. Perhaps I am the victim of ignoble 62 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. prejudices, which I have gradually come to mis take for principles, and am, therefore, blinded to the real propriety and consistency of some of our new philosophies. Be that as it may, there is something in me that revolts, persistently, against the ethics of Mrs. Harrowscratch ; arid I can not help thinking that some of the objects of her "mission" are rather unwomanly. The valiant and rhetorical lady may be entitled to the right of suffrage, and may even be eligible to Congress and, indeed, her marvelous fluency of speech would render her very efficient in can vassing a district, while her equivocal phraseology would avert the chance of her being committed, beforehand, to any intelligible policy but I should dislike to see her employ her new political power for the abrogation of marriage, and the re moval of those bonds and safeguards provided in the family connection. These are new propositions to me, Frank, and I can not look at them with any favor. Is it not true, as I have always supposed, that marriage pre scribes the irrevocable condition of a healthy moral relation between the sexes? that civilization and virtue have prospered with its observance, and THE TANGLETOWN LETTEKS. 63 suffered by its neglect, through all the range of history? Is not this still the general persuasion of mankind, or has the opinion been disproved by the "Spirit of the Age?" Possibly the views I hold on the subject are so obsolete among cultivated persons, as to have be come simply ridiculous ; but I would really like to know whether it is the mission of "modern reform," and especially of the "strong-minded women," to wrench out from the social ship this broad plank, on which so many precious things appear to rest ? * I could not help expressing to Mrs. Harrow- scratch my disapproval of certain of her doctrines thereby lowering myself very much in the lady s estimation. She had hoped better things of me, she said. She lamented to see so well-meaning a person as myself, enthralled by pitiful superstitions, awed by * We presume that Mrs. Harrowscratch, according to Mr. Trap s account of her, can not be justly said to represent the views of the "strong-minded," as a party it being their purpose, if we rightly ap prehend them, not to abolish marriage, but only to secure to their sex a larger percentage of profits on their investment. We think it is due to the credit of the " strong-minded," however, to formally excommuni cate Mrs. Harrowscratch, at their next general convocation, in order to avert the odium of her ultra opinions. [EDITOR OF THE TANGLETOWJJ LETTEKS.] 64 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. the tyrannical laws of the Hebrew God, and afraid to participate in the privileges of emancipated Humanity. I answered that every person could not be sup posed to possess the heroic element that character izes reformers that I was not yet permitted to see doubtless on account of my extreme stupid ity the rare attractions and consistency of some of her social philosophy ; but that I trusted, after rny feeble vision should have accustomed itself to the blaze of modern wisdom, to make the remainder of life s journey without any serious blundering, though I might travel far in the rear of such in trepid persons as Mrs. Harrowscratch. Mrs. Harrowscratch then, improving upon my figure, likened herself to one of the leaders in the great army of Humanity, and myself to one of the dull, patient beasts of burden, moping far behind the grand host, drawing baggage and thinking of my oats. I was about to retort with severity, but just then came the summons to breakfast, and with it the blessed spirit of forbearance. At the table things were not as pleasant as I could have desired. One of the children had turned boiling water THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 65 upon his feet. This had occasioned Mrs. Peskie- witcli to neglect the toast, and to hurry on the meal in a very crude and distracted state. Peskiewitch, who has become something of an epicure during the last few weeks, openly com plained of his breakfast. This led to a little altercation between husband and wife, in which the former received a pungent lecture for his indolence, and the latter was com miserated in a lofty manner for her ignorance of intellectual delights. Scarcely had this little discussion abated, when Mrs. Harrowscratch began an oration on the servile condition of woman in general, and seeming to regard the housekeeper as a special illustration of the fact. Mrs. Peskiewitch, considerably heated by the events of the morning, understood this as a person al reflection, and resented it with becoming spirit. Peskiewitch himself, full of consternation at his companion s audacity, in presuming to enter into controversy with that "wonderful female," as he called Mrs. Harrowscratch, spilled his coffee into Miss Peeler s lap, and so consummated an uproar scandalous enough to have disgraced the table of any carousing old baron. 66 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. I was excessively mortified, and wished myself in the middle of the desert, before order was re stored. Taking Peskiewitch aside, soon as opportunity presented itself, I bade him never suffer a like scene to occur, if he valued my friendship. I advised him, also, to exercise a little more for bearance toward his wife, and hinted that he might share some of her cares without damaging his dig nity as a man of "intellect." THE TANGLETOWN LETTEES. 67 LETTER SEVENTH. BEING AN EXHIBITION OF TASTE IN MATTERS LITERARY AND CONVENTIONAL. IN the course of the same day alluded to in my last, came in my friend Herman, accompanied by my young favorite, Aurora. It chanced to be a leisure day with Herman, and he designed to improve part of it by looking over the splendid collection of books which Peskiewitch had bought for me. I almost dreaded to have this critical reader enter my library, for I foresaw that he was not likely to approve the taste exhibited in the collection. He extended his glance along the brilliant shelves with obvious and increasing disappointment. "Your books are remarkable for their showy binding, Mr. Trap." " Yes, and I fear they were chosen, as many a woman is for wifehood, solely on account of their exterior beauty." " So I should think. Why, I did not know there were so many worthless books extant ! Excuse me, Mr. Trap, but here are five shelves full of unmiti- 68 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. gated stupidity : gilt annuals, bedizened magazines, Hash romances, and so on. I should enjoy pitching them into the street, if their authors were but within the covers." I was really ashamed of the books myself, and I owned as much on the spot, adding that I had left the whole business to Peskiewitch, fallaciously supposing him competent to make a fair selection. "Peskiewitch! why the fellow can have no more idea of a book than a peacock has of astronomy. I would not trust him to buy an almanac. "Ah, here is something not quite so bad <BASSELAS, BY DR. JOHNSON but even this owes the honor of being found in your collection to its brilliant binding see how they have gew-gawed and illustrated it ! "And here, too, is GIBBON S DECLINE AND FALL thanks to gold letter and a multitude of engravings a London edition. And 4 THE VICAR OF WAKEFIELD and even WATTS ON THE MIND, got in by virtue of their gaudy liveries or court dresses. "What a simple rule the fellow must have observed in filling up your shelves. In the first place, he seems to have decided that every book must have a certain brilliancy of ornament about THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 69 it, in order to gain admittance. You see he lias excluded Walter Scott, and taken in Ned Bunt- line, and the * Pirate s Own Book, simply be cause the latter have on their wedding garments, and the former probably had not. " It s the world s method of treating men applied to books. "After all, perhaps Peskie witch means to insinuate a moral under all this absurdity! "But observe, in the second place, how he has grouped the volumes not according to the affini ties of style and subject, but according to the sim ple rule of size or measurement. There is a grave book of Moral Philosophy, for instance, propped up by half a dozen Novels, full of libertinism and blasphemy ! And there is a volume of Newgate Confessions, shoulder to shoulder with The Chris tian Comforter, while Luther is placed in the most intimate relations, as you see, with Lucretia Borgia, and Our Lady of Paris. " Thus Herman proceeded with his humorous com mentary; and I derived more entertainment from it, I dare say, than I shall ever realize from an ac tual perusal of this ridiculous collection. I am vexed at Peskiewitch for having undertaken a commission he was so poorly qualified to execute; 70 THE TAXGLETOWN LETTERS. and at myself for having entrusted so important a business to his judgment. What can I do with the books? There are about seven hundred dollars worth in all that is, estimating them at the bookseller s prices. I can not give them away; for I should be ashamed to present to another what I value so little myself. Neither can I make up my mind to burn them, for that would make me appear like a barbarian or a bigot. Perhaps I had better allow them to remain, as a memento of my folly, and of Peskiewitch s literary taste. We were about leaving the library, when Aurora came in. The child was breathing hard, and her eyes sparkled with excitement. "0 father!" exclaimed she, "let us go home; I ve just seen a gipsy-woman." " A gipsy-woman? " said I ; "that must be some thing new in Tangletown. What do you know about gipsies, little pet?" "0, a great deal; I heard father read about em, ever so much, in a book." "I thought the little night-hawk was asleep," THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 71 said Herman. "But where did you see your gipsy, my child?" "It was right down here in Mr. Trap s garden. Look ! " she cried, bounding to the window, and pointing as she spoke "there she is! " "We looked out, and instantly saw the cause of the child s alarm. It was a dark, stoutly-built female, in silk pants, muslin frock coat, and palm-leaf hat. She was walking up and down one of the avenues, at a slow, meditative pace, supporting herself by a cane, and I shrink from the incredible statement ac tually smoking a cigar i I cast a quick look at Herman, and realized a new sensation. Herman was gazing steadfastly at the apparition, while a ray of intelligence broke gradually over his face. At length, with a half-puzzled air, he smiled, squinted at the apparition, and said, "I seem to have read something about this new species of female." I felt rivers of blood running into my face. He continued, very moderately, "The newspapers call it" "What?" 72 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. " BOOZLE, I think. Doesn t that strike you as being the name ? " The name of what ? " " Of this newly developed genus. It is about making a universal seizure ! " " A universal seizure ! " " Of pantaloons and standing collars ! Or rather," he added, meditatively, I waited in trepidation for the remainder of the revelation " The genus, woman, is about to emerge from the chrysalis state, represented by the flowing robe, (vulgarly called petticoat,) into the winged state, represented by suspenders, dashing green cravats, and other like symbols ! " There it was again. The w^orld had taken another lurch while I was watching the steamboats. " But I ask your pardon, Mr. Trap ; perhaps this lady is one of your guests ? " " No, heaven forbid ! " " The Boozle is coming in," exclaimed Aurora, directing our attention again to the apparition. So she was. "The lady appears to be quite at home," ob served Herman; "she w^alks as though she had a deed of Tangletown in her pocket, and was pros- THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 73 pective heir to the rest of the world. Don t you know who it is, Mr. Trap?" I stammered most disgracefully; for as sure as fate, I had recognized in that outlandish female, my veritable guest, Mrs. Harrowscratch. At that instant Peskiewitch came in. "Is n t it admirable? isn t it brave?" cried that singular person. "Isn t what?" "Why, the new costume Mrs. Harrowscratch wears. Haven t you seen her?" " Peskiewitch, you are a dunce ! And as for that woman " I checked myself; but really for a moment I was ferocious as a stag at bay. 74 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. LETTER EIGHTH. CONTAINING PESKIEWITCH s ELOQUENT AND MAGNANIMOUS DEFENCE OF MRS. HARROWSCRATCH. I HAVE suffered not a little mortification on account of Mrs. Harrowscratch since I wrote you last. The day of the apparition, this courageous per son marched through some of the principal streets of Tangletown, in , all the nonchalance of that incredible costume ; and Peskiewitch was rash enough to bear her company. Mrs. Harrowscratch was not intimidated by the gaze of the town ; she was serenely indifferent to the free observations which her appearance called out from the rude-minded; and she gave every body to understand that she was ready to go to the stake, if necessary, in testimony of her devotion to pantaloons. (She submits to the degradation of skirts only in company with Miss Peeler, who is not yet "ripe" for the Boozle costume, and whose friendship and influence are of the first importance THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 75 to the reformer, as they afford her many facilities for the prosecution of her "mission.") Peskiewitch ought to have known better, I think ; but the fellow actually feels such a sincere admira tion for this woman, that he has taken vast pains to inform people that she is my guest; and the consequence is, I can not step into the street without being quizzed by some waggish friend. Perhaps you may regard this as a trivial circum stance ; but what man can stand in a ridiculous position without having his equanimity jogged? Since the conversation mentioned in my last letter, Mrs. Harrowscratch has not directly urged her doctrines upon me. She has, however, on sev eral occasions, intimated a desire to present them, in a public lecture, to "the friends of human enlightenment" in Tangletown. I shall, of course, resist such a step to the last extremity ; but I feel a secret terror sometimes, lest, through the machina tions of Peskiewitch, and her own dauntless intre pidity she may succeed in accomplishing her purpose. I really tremble at the thought. Last evening I had rather an unpleasant con versation with the housekeeper about our guest. Mrs. Peskiewitch has conceived a strong dislike 76 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. toward Mrs. Harrowscratch, which is not miti gated by her husband s avowed admiration of the "wonderful female." "It s a burning shame," exclaimed Mrs. Peskiewitch, "that this brazen faced creature should be running about the world, making such a spectacle of herself, and taking on such airs, too ! " The reformer has, indeed, been rather unconscious of the housekeeper since their late collision. "A fine, way it is to employ one s self," con tinued Mrs. Peskiewitch, "when one has a husband and children at home, abandoned and left to shift as they can!" Now I had understood from Peskiewitch that the reformer had buried her husband. "And so he told me," said Mrs. Peskiewitch, indig nantly; "but when I found out the contrary, which I did by some words dropped by the book-making lady and charged him with trying to deceive me, he had the face to answer that he s^okejibbitively that she had buried him in contempt, or some such thing." I was highly incensed against Peskiewitch on learning this, and straightway invited him to a pri vate interview. But the fellow speedily disarmed me with his serene impudence and affected candor. THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 77 True he had used an equivocal phrase, in explain ing Mrs. Harrowscratch s position; and he had intended to qualify it, but he had been so absorbed in our guest, etc. "But how does Mrs. Harrowscratch justify this desertion of her family?" " On humanitarian grounds, sir, if I may quote her own words." I was amazed. "Why, you see, the husband of this wonderful female is but a stupid fellow at best not at all intellectual, or interested in the * enfranchisement of society, any more than is my wife." "Well." " Was it to have been expected that a woman so magnificently gifted as Mrs. Harrowscratch, could limit her beneficence to such a clod, while human ity pined for her ministry?" I blinked a little, I confess, before this imposing rhetoric. "Was it to have been expected," continued Pes- kiewitch, putting himself into a parliamentary attitude, and pinning me to the wall with a glance of piercing earnestness - that a woman intended by nature to, teach nations that a female so admi- ~ably qualified to direct the Spirit of the Age 78 THE TAXGLETOWN LETTERS. could be confined to the petty routine of house hold drudgery, to the care of children especially during the sickly season" (added Mr. P., impress ively,) "and to skirts, which are not only incon venient in ascending stairs, but also a badge of submission a symbol of servitude?" Here Peskiewitch took breath, and I took advan tage of the pause to enjoy an exhilarating laugh. The fact is, I am rather losing confidence in Pes kiewitch, as an authority ; but perhaps his absur dities may amuse, since his wisdom can not instruct me. I am fond of thinking that every man is good for something, if tried in his proper function. Even rubies are made more brilliant by a foil, and com mon sense may owe half its value to the whims and follies against w r hich it stands revealed. THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 79 LETTER NINTH. SHOWING HOW MR. TRAP HIMSELF BECAME A REFORMER, THOUGH NOT ONE OF THE POPULAR SCHOOL. I HAVE been out on a little business with Aurora. The other day I said to the child, "If you find any people in misfortune, who can be made more comfortable with a little money, come and tell me, and we will go together and see them." Accordingly, this morning came my little pet to say that there was a poor woman down in Bonus street, whose child lay sick of the fever, who had no bread in the house, and who, moreover, was in danger of being turned out of doors because she had no money to pay her rent. In half an hour we were at this woman s door. It was such a tenement as the poorest of the poor are obliged to shelter themselves in. It embraced two small rooms, one fronting the narrow street, full of pigs and filth, and the other adjoining the- muddy water of the canal, with but a strip of intervening ground. 80 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. No one came to answer our knock ; so we pushed the door softly open and passed in. A boy, some ten years old, was lying on the floor, with his face hidden in his hair, and a bundle of rags strung over his body. In the next room visible by the open door was a bed. On the bed lay a little girl, somewhat larger than Aurora, with closed eyes and glowing cheeks, and heavy tresses of black hair lying upon her shoulders and bosom. By the side of the bed, crouched upon the floor, with her head bowed between her hands, silent and motionless, sat a woman. Neither of these persons seemed conscious of our presence, until a sob from Aurora, whose inexperi enced heart was penetrated by the picture that met her sight, caused the woman to lift her head. " You appear to be in affliction, my good woman," I remarked, by way of introducing our mission. She only gave me a hard, severe look, and then glanced at my little companion. "We have come to see if we can render you any assistance." The woman stood up, and folding her arms across her breast, regarded me with a bitter smile. "And what am I to you," she said, "that you should care for me?" THE TANGLETOWN LETTEKS. 81 "You are a human being, madam, and we are tauglit " "I am not! I am a devil; and if you wish to befriend me, then kill me kill me on the spot!" Her lips grew white, and her eyes flashed, as she said this, and she was truly terrible with fury. "You must have suffered much to have brought you to this state of mind," I said, "but God has not forgotten you, after all." "Don t talk to me about God," she ejaculated. "I have been mocked enough with his name, already. Then, with an indescribable ferocity, she continued: "No, sir, don t speak to me of God, for if there be such a being, he is the God of the Rich, but not of the Poor. " Here, these twelve long years, have I suffered, me and mine, and looked to Him for help in vain. Where was he when my first-born died, after weeks of racking pain? Where was he when Alfred that s my brave and kind husband was washed overboard in the midnight tempest, and swallowed up in the cruel waves? Where was He, I say, when I cried to him in my widowhood and my want, in all the dreary years that came after? YV HERE WAS HE this God that priests and hypo crites prate of while the rich were oppressing 82 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. me, and my children were crying for bread, and we all sat shivering in the winter blast, and sick ness fell upon us, and despair gnawed away all that was good in our hearts? "Answer me all this, and then I may believe that the poor have a God, and that he hears them when they cry to him." While she was going on thus, I observed the boy whom we had seen lying on the floor, get upon his feet, and look, with a dead, vacant stare, into the room. Without venturing any direct reply, I moved to the bedside, and took the hand of the sick child. "Have you no doctor?" The woman shook her head, and added, with an indifference which her voice belied, " Where s the use? Let her die; twill be better for her! " "Poor woman," said I, "we must prove to you that .there is some good in the world reserved for you yet." I then went out, leaving Aurora in the sick room. In half an hour I returned, with a physician and a nurse. I found the woman sitting on the floor by the bed, her face bowed upon her hands, rocking her- THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 83 self to and fro, as if swayed by strong emotion. My pet had knelt by her side, with one hand rest ing timidly upon her shoulder. "Who conies now?" demanded the woman, rising as we entered, and confronting us with a morose look. "I have brought a physician for your child," said I. "This is your patient, doctor." "And who s this woman?" "This is a nurse, ma am, Mrs. Cop, who will relieve you of the care of your little girl, for the present, so that you may take some rest." The woman s eyes flashed, and her voice trem bled, as she exclaimed, "Do you take me for such a brute as to think I would n t take care of my own child ? and she in want like this?" It was some time before I succeeded in soothing her irritation. At last she visibly softened. In five minutes she was hastily brushing away the tears that filled her eyes in spite of herself. Poor creature ! she despised herself for those tears, and would have thought it a brave thing to have remained as insensible as flint. Meantime the doctor had made out his prescrip- 84 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. tions, and the nurse had taken possession of her charge. It was time for us to be gone. A cry detained us. It came from the woman we had befriended, who, suddenly falling upon her knees, sobbed loud and long. Her congealed nature had thawed at last. "Who are you that have come to me in my extremity," she cried, "and melted my heart as it was turning into stone ? " " Your neighbors, you? friends," I answered. "What does it mean?" she exclaimed, weeping and clasping her hands; "I never had friends before. Through all these years have I struggled and suffered, and nobody cared for me nobody gave me even a friendly look, or tried to put a ray of hope in my breast. I have been alone with hard work, and trouble, and my own bitter thoughts, and so I ve grown cold and hard colder and harder every day. O what does it mean, that I have lived to know what human kindness is?" "It means," said I, "that God has not forsaken you, though he has suffered your life to be dark ened by affliction. While you despaired of his aid, and denied his goodness, he prepared means for your deliverance. This little child was his messenger." THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 85 I need not describe to you what followed the contrition and gratitude of this poor, weary-hearted being now she took Aurora into her arms and kissed ner how her solicitude for her own child returned with her better feelings, and how piteously she besought the good doctor to preserve that pre cious life how tenderly she spoke of the ragged, silent boy, whose reason had been injured some years before by an accident, and who had lived ever since like one in a dream and how I placed money in the widow s hand as I came away, and thanked God, as I led my little pet homeward, for the happiness I enjoyed in the good deed of that day. "While I am writing, an odd, irrational whim flutters in my fancy. I think I would like to assemble all the rich men I know, and address them on the best method of extracting happiness from money. I suppose old Nicholas Brick, rea soning from his own experience, would deny the possibility of such a thing, and therefore treat every method as equally chimerical. 86 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. I anticipate the general amazement and emphatic dissent of my auditors, upon the announcement of my plan: INVEST ONE-HALF OF YOUR INCOME IN THE POOR, AND LIVE TEMPERATELY UPON THE REMAINDER. Undoubtedly the groans of disapprobation, at this stage of my address, would be terrific, while the more violent would insist upon my being "put out." Well-a-day, Frank, it is nevertheless true that no man can really thank God for wealth, until he begins to transmute it into Christian Beneficence, and wash it in the tears of human sympathy. THE TANGLETOWN LETTEES. 87 LETTER TENTH. IN WHICH AMELIA RE-APPEARS, AND MR. TRAP IS PENSIVE AND MELANCHOLY, I EXPERIENCED an agreeable surprise this morning in the arrival of Amelia. She is accompanied by a number of fashionable persons, among whom is Mr. Chatterton the cousin whom I met with Amelia at the opera. Mr. Chatterton is a handsome young gentleman, with highly agreeable manners, and brilliant accomplishments. Amelia appears to enjoy his society, and he is devoted in his atten tions to her being her natural protector, I suppose, in the absence of her husband. Amelia uniformly exhibits considerable gayety, though she is subject to an occasional relapse into the deepest melancholy. Twice, to-day, I caught myself watching the play of her features, and musing on the dreariness of her fate. It seems that Amelia was already acquainted with Mrs. Harrowscratch. They are, indeed, on quite familiar terms. This surprises me, for I can not conceive how a lady possessing Amelia s refine ment of manners and delicacy of feeling, can find 88 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. any congenial attributes in a nature so masculine as that of this unsexed reformer. I am sure she can not have seen her arrayed in the Boozle cos tume, for that were a provocation not to be endured so I beg leave to think by one having more delicacy than an average man.* I pay a visit every day to the poor family which I described to you in my last. Mrs. Rachel for that is the widow s name is sincerely grateful foi my assistance, and never ceases to reproach herself for the rudeness with which she first met my prof fered aid. Poor woman! She has had a dreary probation, and no wonder her heart was turning to stone. I fear there are but too many of the poor hardening under their trials, as she was. * Mr. Trap s fastidious sense of propriety, in the matter specified above, is creditable to the old gentleman s education, and reverential estimate of the sex. Still, I am afraid it may bring him under ridicule, in places where one does not like to be laughed at, and from persons who were never embarrassed by such decorous habits of thinking. But for marring Mr. Trap s MS., I would have " crossed out" all these objectionable allusions I almost wish I had! [EDITOR OF TANGLE- TOWN LETTERS.] THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 89 The sick child is recovering, and shows a patient, amiable spirit, such as I had not anticipated in one so unfavorably circumstanced. Aurora who usu ally accompanies me on these visits has already secured a place in the poor girl s heart, and it is quite affecting to witness their growing attachment. The other child the boy whom I mentioned as having received a mental injury is a sad spectacle. His uniform appearance is that of one profoundly absorbed in reverie. His faculties do not seem so much paralyzed as bent inward. Of ordinary transactions he is utterly unconscious; but now and then a tone, a face, or some peculiar household phenomenon, brings his mind, as it were, to the surface. I observe that my pet always succeeds in rousing him, either by the sound of her voice, or by the steady light of her brilliant countenance, bent upon him in silent pity. I believe I have already mentioned the singular radiance the deep, spiritual vitality that marks Aurora s.features, especially her eyes. It is some thing that I have never observed in any other child, and in but one other person. It reminds me, O Frank! so vividly of ONE who shone upon my youth, so brightly as to transfigure all my nature- so transiently as to leave my life in shadow when 90 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. she passed away. Of one who rose in the firma ment of consciousness like a majestic star, radiated her affluent beauty during one glorious hour, and then retired beneath the horizon, disenchanting creation as she fell! When I look upon this child, that peerless creature seems half restored to me ; and I ignore, for an instant, the still deep grief of thirty years. I watch, with an interest not to be described, the influence of my pet upon this afflicted boy. There is nothing stirs his oblivious nature like her voice and look. What nameless power is it which she exerts so unconsciously? What state is that whrch responds to an influence so subtle? And what will be the issue of it all? You have some learning, Frank ; have you ever investigated these things? I have been talking with my guests about the Rachels, and about Aurora. I am afraid I did not interest them much in the narrative of my poor proteges. The story, however, drew out some characteristic remarks. Miss Peeler thought the scene would read well, if graphically described in a book. THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 91 Mrs. Harrowscratch gave us notice that snch cases of destitution, affliction and desperation will continue to meet us "thicker and blacker," until woman shall be "elevated," and the "harmonic conjunction" effected. For her part, she did not charge herself with private charities she could not trouble herself with the trivial affairs of indi viduals but she aspired to emancipate her sex, and was willing to immolate her life on the altar of Humanity. Peskiewitch thought that if woman could be made a little more intellectual, and could appreciate the delights of literature, as some illustrious repre sentatives of the sex do here he bowed to "the wonderful female" and Miss Peeler they would be able to starve and slave, to chill and despair, with a great deal more satisfaciion than at present. Amelia remarked that human life seemed to be full of pain and affliction, at best; that, if one does not suffer from poverty, or sickness, one is sure to suffer from other evils that are quite as bad ; and that doubtless there are many women, wealthy, lauded, and envied, who might exchange situations with the poorest, and gain some happiness by the bargain. As Amelia uttered this trite sentiment, the con- 92 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. trast of her splendid person, and high social posi tion, with the bitter earnestness of her language, and her obvious allusion to her own experience, was melancholy and impressive. I noticed Chatterton who was sitting near her bend forward and whisper to her as she ceased. Her face and neck became instantly suffused, and her eyes precipitately sought the ground. I never saw this queenly woman appear so much like a bashful girl before. It is near midnight. I have sought the pen to complete this letter before I sleep. There is some thing more I would fain add. Yet, perhaps, it were better left unwritten. I am an old man, and my impressions may mislead. I am weary, and a little agitated. In this state, one does not reason clearly ; and he has no right to disturb others with apprehensions, which he can not entirely justify to himself. And yet I will write but this I would that THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 93 Amelia had never met Mrs. Harrowscratch. I would that she had married wisely that her heart were anchored fast in an honest love. Pray for her, Frank, pray that she enter not into temptation 94 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. LETTER ELEVENTH. -IN WHICH MR. TRAP GIVES EVIDENCE OF NOT BEING POLITI CALLY " SOUND," AND GIVES ALSO A REPORT OF DR. FIB- LONG s SERMON. I HAVE been trying to interest Amelia in Mrs. Rachel and her children I have been trying to attach her to Aurora. I tremble at the peril she incurs, with no lawful object to love and labor for. I tremble to think what may come and possess her vacant heart ! Yesterday she went with us to see the widow and her family. She went, I fear, not so much to minister to the needy, as to gratify her old friend, Mr. Trap. No doubt she meant well, and would gladly have blessed the house of affliction with timely words and the true spirit of sympathy ; but she is unaccustomed to such offices, and wholly ignorant of that peculiar sensitiveness, or pride, which many of the poor retain through all their privations. Her sympathetic observations seemed to be THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 95 quoted, verbatim, from some grandiloquent profes sor of philanthropy, and the glitter of the rhetoric was more obvious than the heartiness of the senti ment. There was a queenly condescension in the demeanor of the magnificent woman, which, to state the exact truth, was both oppressive and irri tating. It had the absurd effect of provoking Mrs. Eachel to vault into a corresponding demeanor; and she acknowledged the compassion of her gen teel visitor with a frigid and laborious politeness that made me admire the perennial caprice of the old man Adam. When we were coming away, Amelia tendered her purse to the widow, and I am bound to say that the ridiculous creature declined it with the haughty air of a ruined princess. I question whether Amelia will feel any more interest in the poor on account of this visit. It was not an auspicious beginning. I found Herman to-day under a good deal of excitement. He is something of a politician, in his quiet way, and reads the Congressional debates with astonishing perseverance. He holds views on political subjects that have been carefully matured, 96 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. and that admit of vigorous defence. He lias not gleaned them from the influential newspapers, nor taken them on trust from the lips of any brawling demagogue ; they are the result of unbiased rea soning the judgment of his calm and genial humanity. Well, Herman was a good deal excited, as I said ; it was in consequence of a recent act of legislation the Fugitive Slave Act, I think it is called. It seems by this Act, that every man in the Free States is made a minion of the Slave Power a sort of sub-kidnapper a lackey of oppression (these are Herman s phrases) and is compelled, under very severe penalties, to restore the flying slave to his pampered master to become the ally of the strong against the weak. I have hitherto stifled all reflections on the sub ject of slavery, not having sufficient courage to survey the whole matter deliberately, and being apprehensive, moreover, that I might kindle a train of thought that would explode in noisy fanat icism. But I confess I find it more and more diffi cult to ignore the subject. It absorbs the news papers. It monopolizes the public attention. It seems to loom ominously in the distance of our history. Our best statesmen look at it askance, THE TAXGLETOWN LETTERS. 97 or, if they offer to meet it, are borne down by its weight. My conversation with Herman has roused my latent feelings on the subject. I begin to feel that I have been too dormant, hitherto that the masses of our people, North and South, have not realized, as they ought, the determined aggressions of the slaveholding interest in this land, and the conse quent peril that threatens our institutions, or, at least, our national honor. I hope I am not becoming an, abolitionist for I have been accustomed to associate with- that name some rather discreditable qualities ; but I am persuaded that it is the duty of good citizens to resist the further progress of the Slave Power. But this new statute. Is it my duty to obey it? It is said to be constitutional. It is claimed that the peace, and even the perpetuity -of the nation, demanded its enactment. What do you think of it ? Herman says, that for his part, he had rather suffer the penalties of this Act than execute its requirements; and that no constitution emanating from man shall compel him to transgress the dic tates of mercy implanted by God in his heart, and constituting the best of his being. I trust that no emergency will oblige him to 98 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. choose between this law of man and the eternal law of God; for Herman has the spirit out of which martyrs are made. It is Sunday evening. I have been to hear Dr. Fiblong preach on the duty of obedience to the powers that be in other words, on the Christian obligation of executing the Fugitive Slave Act. Dr. Fiblong is the pastor of the richest church in Tangletown ; his congregation is large, fashionable, and self-complacent. I presume that, if they sup posed any persons less genteel than themselves are to be admitted into heaven, it would prove a serious vexation to them. Of course, they consider all that part of the Gospel which is addressed to the poor, to the sinful, and to those that are in bonds, as altogether superfluous. Dr. Fiblong is a preacher after their own hearts. He never offends their prejudices. He never wounds their plethoric pride by any chance-thrust of the Gospel sword. He never forgets what his people expect of him, and never remembers what the Almighty requires. He is accounted the most successful minister in Tangletown. THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 99 Well, Dr. Fiblong preached on the Fugitive Slave Act. He admitted that some of its requirements bore rather hard upon our sensibilities, and might appear hostile to our sense of right; but then it was our duty to sacrifice these for the sake of na tional tranquillity. He spoke in the most pathetic strain of the necessity of peace between the North and South. "Behold," said he, "how pleasant a thing it is for brethren to dwell together in unity ! " Slavery might be wrong, though it was clearly countenanced in the Bible and it might offend our local habits and peculiar feelings to be directly implicated in the institution ; but, after all, it is a glorious country, and we are a noble people ; and should we not WOULD we not concede something, for the sake of insuring harmony in this magnificent galaxy of states? At this appeal, a strong emotion pervaded the audience. Several gentlemen, who are known to command an extensive southern trade, bowed their heads in tears. Herman, who sat by my side, said, audibly, " FIRST PURE, THEN PEACEABLE," and looked darkly at the minister. Dr. Fiblong then became Scriptural ; he quoted the case of Christ and the Apostles, as proving the 100 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. righteousness of submission to the existing powers ; and queried whether the fact that some men are indisposed to execute the present statute, may not be an indication of latent infidelity ! And finally, the discourse was finished in a bril liant peroration on the necessity of imitating Christ ! An expression of the happiest benignity shone in the approving countenances of most of the congre gation; but Herman and I came away in rather a turbulent mood. I was struck by a remark which Herman made as we were leaving the church: "Had Christ and the Apostles," said he, " been the pitiful time-servers this preacher represents them to have been, they would surely have had no occa sion to suffer martyrdom ; and had our forefathers possessed that reverence for bad laws which Dr. Fiblong would inculcate, there never had been that admirable transaction known in history as the American Revolution." THE TANGLETOWIT LETTERS* 101 LETTER TWELFTH. DESCRIBING MR. TRAP S FURTHER TRIBULATION WITH MRS HARROWSCRATCH, AND THE DEPARTURE OF THAT ADVEN TUROUS FEMALE. MRS. Harrowscratch took leave of us to-day. May Heaven have mercy on those whom she may be moved to visit hereafter. The last days of her stay with us were more afflictive than the first. Miss Peeler and Amelia having departed early in the week leaving the gallant reformer without a check the spirit of the woman blossomed in luxuriant impudence. The new costume was not the only form in which her dauntless independence exhibited itself. She assumed an incredible author ity in my devoted household. I heard rumors of tremendous collisions between her and the house keeper, when the depredations of the enemy had become especially exasperating. As regards my course under the circumstances being a man of discretion rather than of valor I remained pretty much in retirement, thinking of 1Q2 THE TANOLETOWN LETTERS. the progress of the age, the manifold absurdities of human nature, the mission of woman, the harmonic conjunction, and the asylum for the insane! This ignoble inactivity on my part, enabled the enemy to consummate her most atrocious pur pose she lectured in Tangletown. Peskiewitch became the intrepid woman s instrument. He it was who hired the most fashionable hall, wrote the audacious advertisements, and saw the flaming post ers printed, and placarded in all the conspicuous places in the city. He is implicated in the whole transaction, from the advent of Mrs. Harrowscratch into Pineapple street to the moment of the lec ture from the first conception of the outrage to the reception of the last shilling paid to him as doorkeeper. Yes, the lecture actually took place. I heard of it after it had become too late to inter fereexcept by authority of the police -and remained in my chamber, chafing finely. The lecture was attended by incidents not cal culated to foster the reformer s audacity as I have since learned by confession of Peskiewitch. It seems that the boys, who comprised a large part of the audience, were violent, and not over- discriminating in their applause alternately beat ing the floor with fury, and whistling shrill as Mrs. Harrowscratch requests thab the " impudent fellow may "be pub oub. P 103. THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 103 mountaineers. Indeed, this kind of applause occu pied most of the time, leaving but a narrow margin of opportunity for the lecture. The audience con siderately spared the lungs, and economized the mental resources of the speaker. They compli mented the latter by bestowing on a single sen tence of her murky wisdom a prolonged salvo of stunning dissonance. At this embarrassing rate the lecture had pro ceeded for half an hour, when an amazing consum mation took place. A lank, awkward, destitute youth stole timidly toward the speaker s desk, arid, addressing the fair lecturer in a strain of filial entreaty, begged her to come home ! It must have been the rarest specta cle ! There stood the poor boy in the full splendor of gas-light, ragged, travel-worn, embarrassed, dis consolate a picture of pathos. And there stood a woman whom he called MOTHER in possession of the rostrum arrayed in the badge of reform disdaining all domestic offices, and denying all do mestic claims absorbed in the equivocal work of enfranchising her sex. Something of a sensation ensued, as I learn from Peskiewitch; but Mrs. Harrowscratch evinced ad mirable presence of mind. She ignored the rela- 104 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. tionship without an effort, and calmly requested that the impudent fellow might be put out. But the impudent fellow expostulated with such powerful pathos, that many of the audience became enlisted in his cause, and the meeting broke up amid much excitement and confusion. Attended by Peskie- witch, Mrs. Harrowscratch returned to the house in high resentment. The event happened last evening; and this morning she terminated her seven weeks visit, and went her way, frowning at all the world. Peskiewdtch says that the poor lad, who wan dered so strangely into the lecture-room, and made himself so ridiculous, went home with a sympa thizing auditor, protesting that he was really the child of this intrepid woman disown him as she might. THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 105 LETTER THIRTEENTH. AFFORDS ANOTHER GLIMPSE OF MR. TRAPES BENEFICENCE, AND OF HIS POLITICAL AFFINITIES ; CLOSING WITH AN ALARM. AURORA has introduced me to several more desti tute persons, whom I have been permitted to help and encourage. I enjoy the whim of sending my pet to seek out charitable work, and making her an active instrument in the relief of the poor. The glorious face of the child, her gentleness and pity, qualify her for this ministry in an especial degree. Nor, while blessing others, will she remain un blessed. She will learn the means and opportuni ties of doing good. Her best instincts will be developed, and her nature imbued with Christian benevolence. If her life shall be prolonged into womanhood, she will grow up with a thoughtful, rational interest in human existence, with wise estimates of things, with mental resources and sound social sympathy; and thus be fortified against the perils that assail the selfish and the frivolous. While encountering new objects of 106 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. compassion, we do not forget the Rachels. We have, in fact, had this family out to the mansion to dinner. The occasion proved highly agreeable to all con cerned. The widow narrated all her misfortunes to Mrs. Peskiewitch, and won the housekeeper s heart. The girls Aurora and Miss Rachel had a notable visit, which resulted in an arrangement for the latter to attend school a privilege hitherto denied her by poverty and sickness. The uncon scious boy made a sketch of my pet in charcoal, by which he both proved himself an artist and gave infinite delight to the juvenile Peskiewitches. These latter demeaned themselves with unexam pled propriety on the occasion a fact that recon ciles me to some recent acts of depredation, by which my slippers and spectacle-case have myste riously disappeared. We are likely to have trouble in our church on the slavery question. The enactment of this Fugitive Slave Bill has powerfully excited the community, and intensified the various opinions TIIE TANGLETOWN LETTEES. 107 cherished on the subject of Slavery in the abstract. Dissension runs high and waxes warm. Hostile views come into fierce collision, and men s passions even exaggerate the real occasions of difference. Our minister has felt it incumbent on him to preach a sermon in reference to the new Bill. I rather think that Dr. Fiblong drew him out. At all events, it was a very different discourse from that delivered by the popular preacher. It was a plain, firm application of the Christian Law of the Golden Rule to American Slavery. I con fess, it impressed me most powerfully. I never had such an insight before into the monstrous in justice of the system. I came out of the church a thorough anti-slavery man. There are those in the church, however, who not only dissent from the minister s views, but who deny his right to declare them. They have resented the sermon as an attempt to dictate to them political doctrine. They have created quite an opposition to the poor minister, already, and I am much concerned for the result. I fear that he may suffer for his boldness and fidelity; still, I am glad that he has spoken his convictions. 108 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. I close this letter amid the most fearful forebod ings. Belshazzar has just arrived, hot with travel and jealousy. He is in pursuit of Amelia. Had he found her here, I believe he would have mur dered her. He is mad with passion, and moves through the house like a wild beast. If he meets Chatterton, what will be the result ! O Frank, I feel as if some dreadful tragedy impended. THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 109 LETTER FOURTEENTH. DESCRIBING MR. TRAp s MISERABLE JOURNEY WITH BELSHAZ- ZAR, AND AN ALARMING INCIDENT BY THE WAY. IT has been an exciting day. This morning, at half past four, I left Tangletown in company with Belshazzar. He was not to be detained any longer. He would hear reason no more than will a wild beast. He was fiercely bent on finding Amelia, and tasting revenge. All night long, the dark, malignant heathen never closed his eyes, but waited with lowery impatience, and muttered curses, the hour that was to bring the early train. I could not bear the thought of this mad monster proceeding on his revengeful errand alone. I offered to bear him company, hoping, thereby, to avert the fatal consequences to which his passion was hurrying him. He bluntly declined the honor. But this only determined me in my resolution ; and after half an hour spent in sultry debate, he yielded a grim consent. But such a companion ! He has demeaned himself through the day, more like a hungry wolf than a rational being. 110 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. Let me assure you here, before I write another sentence, that I do not believe aught of Amelia that can justify this fury and hate on Belshazzar s part. I know not what he may have heard, or from whom he keeps his own counsel, as regards these particulars but I can not think that my friend has visibly fallen from the dignity of her wifehood, or falsified, by any act of conventional impropriety, her fatal promise of conjugal fidelity. I s&y fatal promise, for it was made in violation of nature, and in affront of God ; and it augured speedy re pentance, lingering retribution, and final calamity. From the beginning, I foreboded the evil day now about to be fulfilled. Still, I repeat it, I believe Amelia is innocent of aught for which society could reproach her; for I know the natural noble ness of her nature ; and, with all her peril, I confide in it. Amelia and her party were, when last heard from, at P . This romantic village has become a place of considerable interest to tourists and people of fashion, owing to its bold mountain scenery, the Falls of the Genesee, a recent exca vation through one of the hills, where a canal was to have been carried, and, perhaps, as much as THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. Ill any thing, to the comparative novelty of the place. A fine railroad now facilitates communication with the village, and a hotel of some pretension has been erected for the accommodation of visitors. The immediate direction of our journey, there fore, was toward P . It was raining furiously when we took the cars, and the complexion of the heavens darkened by dense and pitchy vapor suited well the ominous errand on w T hich we trav eled. Belshazzar proved himself in no companion able mood. I could neither reason with him on the subject of his vehement passion, or engage him in any topic of passing interest. He sat silent and dark, muffled in his cloak to the eyes, and bending on the mottled landscape a look of rigid malignity. It did not occur to me, when I took my seat in the train, that we were to pass Collmore Hill ; and it was not until a certain familiarity of scenery had arrested my attention, that I realized where I was being conveyed. In an instant, as we swept round- the curve of the road, the venerable old mansion rose into view, crowning that noble elevation with its time-worn walls, and sentineled by the same majestic trees under whose shadow I played more than forty years ago. What associations are con nected with that place ! What scenes and experi- 112 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. ences memory recalled as its image greeted my sight ! Within those gray old walls I first breathed the air and saw the light of this unresting world. There my boyhood was spent. Yonder are the fields in which I played and toiled, blithe and hale with the exuberance of new life. There in the valley was the rustic school, whose privileges I as often slighted as shared a thing to smile over and regret. Further still, I see the spire of the old church, where sermons were long and theology was grim where the deacons slept in the assurance of sound doctrine, and the children waited for the amen as prisoners wait for their release. Sad old tabernacle of Error and Fanaticism ! I have little cause to rejoice in its ministry to me and mine! I stepped out upon the platform, and transgressed the rules for the sake of a long look at the dear old place. There I was to have spent my life in quiet rural pursuits, blessed and attended by the love and beauty of my unforgotten wife, and ripen ing for the better world in the genial sunshine of a virtuous home. Those rooms have been illumined and consecrated by her presence : without her they must be to me forever dim and cold. My eye lingers upon that narrow inclosure THE TANGLETOWN "LETTERS. 113 yonder at the left just where the line of foliage unites itself to those graceful elms. I see the white stone gleaming through the leaves. I see the face th.at we entombed beneath no, the face that shines upon me evermore out of heaven. So be it, inscrutable God! I was roused from my reverie by the stopping of the train at C . Among the passengers who came on board at this station, was a young man whom I instantly presumed to be Chatterton. I could obtain only a side view of his countenance, as he passed from the platform into the adjacent car ; but the likeness seemed alarmingly accurate. Nor was I alone of that impression. Glancing with instant apprehension at the face of Belshaz- zar, I saw that his eyes were riveted on the spot where the young man had stood; while a lurid gleam of savagery shone from beneath his dark and ugly brow r s like lightning shimmering from a cloud and giving to the whole physiognomy an expression of intense malignity such as one shudders to behold. 114 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. Belsliazzar carried a heavy dirk-cane. Scarcely was the train again in motion, when he arose, and grasping this weapon significantly, strode into the next car. I was not three steps behind him, for, at that instant, I felt as though I might be called to avert a murder. All sorts of sanguinary images darted through my mind in a moment. A dozen half-formed suggestions whirled across my brain. Probably my countenance exhibited some alarm, for I remember that my appearance instantly fixed the attention of all who saw me. The young man who had unconsciously occa sioned this scene, sat at the further extremity of the car. Belsliazzar approached him looked hard into his face and slowly turned back, with the air of a hyena balked of his prey. It was not Chatterton, after all. I sunk into the nearest seat, and it w^as a long hour before I recovered. I heard the passengers making their comments, arid was honored with many a curious glance. As for the stranger, lie showed a momentary indignation, but left the train at the next station, and -we saw no more of him. This incident impressed me with the necessity of preventing a meeting between Belshazzar and Chatterton, if possible, until the innocence of the THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 115 latter should be established, or the fury of the former exhausted. To devise means of averting this perilous collision occupied all my thoughts until we arrived at H . Here the Tangletown and Bunkum Railroad forms a junction with the Patch and Scrabble line, running westward from the city through P to the Lakes. At this point, therefore, it became necessary to change cars; but as the train that was to carry us forward had not yet arrived, we took seats in the station to wait its appearance. The rain still continued to pour; the ticket-master closed his window; the apple boys retired; and we were left sole occupants of the building. It was a dismal day, aside from the gloom it derived from my own sombre mood. Belshazzar bore the protracted delay with aston ishing patience. He coiled himself in his cloak, and appeared to lapse into slumber. Having fixed his vindictive purpose, he could now, as it seemed, await the hour of its execution as he would the maturing of a bond. This brutish insensibility aggravated and alarmed me more than his previous violence. 116 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. Two hours passed away, and still there were no signs of the train. Several gentlemen had come in by this time, equipped for travel and impatient of delay. Two of these soon entered into conver sation, by which I immediately learned that Mrs. Harrowscratch had been lecturing in the village. I was glad to find that neither of the gentlemen was likely to become a disciple of this question able reformer ; but one of them at length made a casual remark that agitated me exceedingly. "By the way," said he, " if some of our fashion able women were to openly avow their adoption of this new philosophy, it would set the community at rest in reference to much that is equivocal in their customs and deportment. I saw only last week at N , a battalion or so of gay New-York ers married women, whose husbands are locked up in Wall street, or some other dungeon of Mam mon flirting it with an equal number of idle young men not married, and that with such hearty good will, that one could scarcely regard the w r hole transaction as a sham." " Ah, that was said in the true tone of Juvenal," returned the other with a laugh. " What a bless ing it is that we poor dogs whose poverty saves THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 117 us from the follies of the rich may avenge our selves by saying all manner of caustic truths at their expense." During these remarks Belshazzar still remained coiled in his cloak, and I was beginning to congrat ulate myself on the probability that he had not heard them, when he bounded up, darted a savage glance at me, and began to pace the room, evidently under the impulse of the fiercest passion. About that moment some one reported that the rain had so swollen the river at E as to carry away the bridge; in consequence of which, no train need be expected from below under twelve hours. This news brought an exclamation from Belshaz zar that I will not commit to paper. It proved that his endurance was exhausted. And, indeed, he instantly declared his determination to drive to P this very night. The distance is forty miles. No conveyance can be had until six o clock. The rain still falls in torrents. It is reported that some portions of the road have been rendered impassable by the over flow of the streams. At first I thought I would consult my own safety, and leave this madman to 118 THE TAXGLETOWN LETTERS. pursue his fate alone. But on further reflection, and, as I fancy, to his chagrin, I am resolved to bear him company on this miserable night-ride. Perhaps I may still stand between him and crime. If no accident befalls me, I hope to inform you of the issue of this adventure in a few days. THE TANGLLTOWN LETTERS. 119 LETTER FIFTEENTH. DESCRIBING THE NIGHT DRIVE, A NERVOUS CONVERSATION, AND THE FRIGHTFUL DISCOVERY MADE ON THAT EXCITING OCCASION. I RESUME my narrative at the moment of our de parture from the Station at H . Belshazzar had secured a tolerably comfortable carriage, a fleet horse, and an experienced driver. But the pros pect for the night was sufficiently dubious. It was half past six before we took the road. The storm, far from having abated, rather seemed to increase as the day waned. The dense, copious clouds seemed to touch the housetops, as they dis charged their inexhaustible stores. Now and then came a fierce, sudden blast of wind, that dashed the rain upon us like a volley of shot. The gutters ran full to the brim, and were already sweeping across the highway here and there ; while, foaming through the valley, only a few rods to our left, rolled the river, turbid and angry, like a thing of consciousness and passion. In less than an hour we entered upon a lonely I 120 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. turnpike, hedged upon either side for two miles, by a pine forest. Here we took leave of daylight; and when the momentary twilight had faded, we were in Egyptian darkness. The tall pines writhed in the storm, and moaned over our heads in the boundless gloom, with an intonation thrillingly human. As I rode there gazing into the stifling gloom, hearing the conflict of the elements, thinking of the desperate man at my side, and of the vengeful errand on which he was hastening I was in the very mood most susceptible to superstitious impres sions, and had much of the choice material out of which terrific illusions are formed. I recalled the fact, that, more than twenty years before, over the same lonely road, a rich man had journeyed late at night, with his mortal enemy noiselessly dogging his steps, and preparing to send him into eternity in the flash of his deadly rifle. The rich man was a merciless creditor, loving gain more than honor; and a series of extortions and wrongs had provoked a fellow-man to seek revenge in this foul deed. With this bloody purpose, in the blackness of night, when not even a star shone upon the tops of the pines, he hung upon the track of his victim, vainly trying to nerve himself to the THE TANGLETOWX LETTERS. 121 act. Meanwhile, all unconscious of danger, and chuckling over the profits of his latest financial snare, the man of money rode on the verge of doom. Providence softened the avenger s heart, and gave th<) rich man another day on earth. It availed no thing. They met on the morrow ; and additional wrong inspired another vindictive vow. The fol lowing night the extortioner perished not here under the pines but on his own threshold, shot through the heart. I rehearsed the tale to Belshazzar, hoping that the horror of it might penetrate his obdurate sensi bilities, and show him the true complexion of his own revengeful heart. I dwelt with especial emphasis on the probable reflections that rose in the murderer s mind, as he approached the crisis of his crime; as he followed his unsuspecting victim through the dark, and num bered his mortal moments by his own rapid heart beats. He thought of the extortioner s family; of their consternation, horror, and dismay, when this bloody bereavement should burst upon them, start ling them from sleep and household dreams. He thought of his own wife and babe with what averted face he should steal home to them ; with what rankling unrest, start at every sound ; with 122 THE TANGLETOWX LETTERS. what utter self-loathing, shrink from their innocent caresses. He thought of the tumultuous excite ment of the community; of the search that would be made for the criminal ; of his own possible ap prehension and arraignment ; of the crowded court room; of the silent, immitigable prison; of the scaffold, where all the rigor of human justice is concentrated in a rope more dreadful than ten thousand charging spears. He thought of God, in his dread omniscience, in his still, resistless retribu tions; and a voice from the forest and the cloud seemed to repeat that solemn prohibition THOU SHALT DO NO MURDER ! Thus I moralized, uncertain whether Belshazzar listened to me or not, until, in a voice that seemed slightly agitated, he inquired whether the man I had spoken of was really hung. "He was hung," I answered; "when we return I will show you the very place where they erected his gibbet." "I do not care to see it," replied Belshazzar; " it is a shocking story to hear in such a place." I saw that I had made some impression, and I determined to pursue the advantage. I had found out the vulnerable part of this man s nature. " The most remarkable part of this story remains THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 123 to be told," I observed. " After the murderer had been taken down from the gallows and buried, cer tain medical students went at midnight and dug him up, and bore him to their room for dissection. "When stretched upon the table for examination, it struck the students that the corpse was remark ably well preserved. Are you listening to me, Belshaz- zar?" A growling affirmative was returned, and I con tinued : "While the students were speculating on the unwonted appearance of the corpse, it suddenly opened its eyes, and, gazing about the room, asked them to put out the candles and call in Clinch ; which w r as the name of the man that had been murdered ! The terrified students bolted from the room, nor had either of them courage to return that night. In the morning, the dead man was nowhere to be found!" Belshazzar made no reply under several minutes. At length he demanded whether I believed stories of this extraordinary character. " I do not believe the alleged occurrences," said I, "but I do believe this : that whenever a bad pur pose is conceived in the heart, it so perverts the mental consciousness as to make the individual the 124 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. victim of perpetual illusions. His judgment does not act with its ordinary acuteness he commits fatal blunders in calculating his own escape from the meshes of his crime ; and Nature, becoming his enemy, practices a thousand deceits upon his senses, which, in that mood, allow them all the force of reality." "Still," I added, by way of second thought, "the supernatural world surrounds us, and it is just pos sible that the conception of crime, by forcing the soul out of its normal state, may actually render it susceptible of spectacles mercifully hidden from the innocent." "I can make nothing of your philosophy," said Belshazzar, "but your story is diabolically disturb ing, and may Old Harry take you before you are moved to talk any more on these matters." "I advise you not to express any special desire for that person s presence," returned I, "for on such a night as this, he is quite liable to be within ear shot; and, in case he calls at our carriage for a companion, you must needs accompany him, for, being myself a total stranger to him, he would never think of taking me by the button for a confidential chat." "Mr. Trap," said Belshazzar, with an obvious THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 125 change in his voice, " you have taken an unaccount able humor during this ride; I think I never ob served this supernatural twang in your language before. What is this? " The carriage had stopped. The horse was flounc ing upon the edge of a bridge. The river foamed right under our feet. The rain, dashed by the angry wind, drove into our faces, threatening to take our breath. The only thing that could be distinctly under stood was the lusty profanity of the driver. "For God s sake," cried Belshazzar, seizing Jehu by the collar, "have done with that brutal swearing. Do you think any body but an atheist or a devil can bear blasphemy on such a night as this?" " The horse won t go on the bridge," was Jehu s retort. " Perhaps some of the planks are washed away," suggested I. The driver got down, that he might examine more closely into matters ; and, at the same instant, the horse ran back with a loud snort, and nearly overturned the carriage. "Something is on the bridge," cried the driver, as he took the frightened animal by the bit. THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. "What is it like?" asked Belshazzar. in an unmistakable tone of fear. "I can t see plain what it s like," returned the driver, "but it seems the color of an old bone, and has two heads and three legs ! " "My God!" exclaimed Belshazzar, whose con sternation was now irrepressible, " did you ever hear of this monster before, Mr. Trap?" "I certainly never did; it does not answer to the common description of Old Harry," returned I. "I have a pistol with me," observed Jehu; "I got it two years ago, to defend myself from the Irish. If you think best, I will have a shot at the thing." "Not for the price of our lives," ejaculated Bel shazzar; "get to your place, and drive us from the accursed spot." By this time, I felt that I might take liberties with this superstitious heathen. I interposed, therefore, saying, in a voice audible only to him, "We turn not back, Belshazzar; you have pur posed a great crime; are you such a fool as to fancy that the devil will stand in your way while you are serving him so zealously? Hurry on to your doom!" THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 127 This I said fearlessly, for I felt that I had acquired a moral mastery over the man. Peering out into the darkness, I noticed, at no great distance, a light glimmering through the storm. At my suggestion, thither went our Jehu in quest of a lantern, by which I hoped to inves tigate the nature of the obstacle thus singularly obtruding itself in our way. My Israelite sat speechless; the storm raved about our heads; the river foamed beneath our feet ; the distant light twinkled across the waste ; and I sat ruminating on the strangeness of the situation, and the singular authority I had obtained over my late dangerous companion. At length Jehu came back, bearing a lantern, and accompanied by another person. The two, after having gone out upon the bridge, presently 128 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS stood beside the carriage, the light shining fitfully over their affrighted faces. " In God s name, what is it? " gasped Belshazzar. "There is a dead man on the bridge," answered the driver. "An old man, he is, and murdered, sure," added the native. I now got down from the carriage, and soon verified this startling information. A pistol ball had passed through the brain of the dead man. The deed seemed to have been com mitted further up the river, for the body had floated down the stream upon a mass of driftwood, which, coming in contact with the bridge, had, in the ex traordinary height of the waters, gradually cast its human burden sheer over upon the planks. There it lay, amid multiform rubbish, a ghastly and harrowing sight. According to the native, there was a tavern about a mile further on, and I told Belshazzar that we must take the body into our carriage and con vey it thither. At first he would not entertain the idea; but when I whispered to him that I had recognized in the murdered person, old Minos the father Jehu discovers the murdered man. P. 129. THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 129 of our Amelia a sort of horror came over him, a violent tremor convulsed his frame, and he made no further opposition to my wishes. I am here interrupted, but will try to inform you of the ensuing events as leisure is afforded me. 6* 130 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. LETTER SIXTEENTH. DESCRIBING HOW THEY ARRIVED AT THE TAVERN, AND HOW MR. TRAP WAS INDUCED TO JOIN A CIRCLE OF RAPPING SPIRITUALISTS ALSO HOW HE MET AN INESTIMABLE ACQUAINTANCE. WHEN we arrived that night at the tavern, like undertakers, with the murdered body of old Minos, it must have been very late ; for not a ray of light was visible about the place, and not a sound came to the ear save the raving of the storm. The house had no very hospitable look ; but, nevertheless, the sign that swung over head creaked out a sort of dubious welcome, and our Jehu began a furious knocking at the door. The landlord was evidently a sound sleeper, and one who enjoyed sleeping out the equinoctial gale. Nobody stirred to answer our summons. Jehu beat the door, first with both his fists, then with a heavy whip he bore, and lastly with both his feet. These urgent notices bringing no response from within, he next roared like a goaded bull. After all, it was hard for the poor fellow to out-clamor THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 131 the storm especially as two or three blinds were swinging in the gale, and beating themselves to pieces against the \vindows. Belshazzar, who had not spoken for the last half hour, w r as affected by all this noise as one is by the knocking in Macbeth, and no doubt ruminated fear fully upon the sudden extinction of old Minos. At length Jehu, groping to the rear of the build ing, reported that a light was visible on that side, and that quite a large number of persons seemed to be assembled in an upper room. Renewing his clamor on this side of the house, he finally made himself heard, and one of the noc turnal company raising a window, and putting forth a head garnished with an enormous beard demanded who was there and what was wanted. A short colloquy now served to explain matters ; and after waiting some five minutes longer, a lamp glimmered in the bar-room, and a door was flung open for our admittance. The landlord was a red-haired, liquid-eyed look ing fellow, quite under the common size. There was a certain unsteadiness in his gait occasioned, apparently, by lameness, and by an over free indul gence at his bar. When Belshazzar s chalky face appeared within 132 TIIE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. the orb of the innkeeper s lamp exhibiting au expression of over-mastering alarm the red- haired individual stared at him with all the power of his liquid visage, and demanded, with a commonplace oath, whether a rain-storm com monly bleached him to that supernatural complex ion. But my Israelite, brandishing his heavy cane, would have resented this drunken insolence by breaking the landlord s head, if the latter had not dexterously avoided the blow. It required an effort on my part to make the fellow comprehend that we had a dead man in the carriage ; and when the fact had finally penetrated him, he utterly refused to receive the corpse into his house. There were a set already up stairs, he said, who were raising spirits and having unnatural dealings with the dead a thing so astounding as to have compelled him, as he averred, to fortify himself with an extra glass of brandy and now, should he admit the murdered person, they would have him dancing up the stairway in ten minutes, and the credit of his house would be ruined forever. To meet this argument, I offered various consider ations in vain ; but finally, tendering him half an eagle, the gold enlightened his understanding, touched his sensibilities, and dissipated his scruples THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 133 in less than half a minute, and the body of poor old Minos found shelter in a forlorn corner of the tavern. By this time the night was two-thirds gone, but you will not be surprised to learn that I felt little inclination for sleep. I was under too much excitement, and troubled by too great anx ieties, to be allowed to subside into that luxury. Procuring only a change of raiment, therefore, I thought to spend the remainder of the night in a large square apartment adjoining the bar-room, where I directed a splendid fire to be lighted. Bcl- shazzar had locked himself in a bed-room, directly overhead, and his dull, irregular tramp notified me that he continued as wakeful as myself. From the occupied chamber in the rear which I have already mentioned came the murmur of voices, interrupted occasionally by a regular suc cession of unaccountable sounds, like a sort of muffled hammering. My curiosity was a good deal excited with ref erence to the proceedings of this nocturnal company, which, judging by the landlord s account, I at once presumed to be a circle of rapping spiritualists. I had never been present at one of these singular convocations, but had heard many marvellous ac counts of what had transpired at their sittings. I 134 THE TAKGLETOWN LETTERS. had conversed once with Peskiewitch about the startling assumptions and incredible statements of this new sect, but the observations of that inval uable person were too foggy for my edification. Still, there was a certain mysterious haze invest ing the whole phenomena, that I mightily desired to penetrate. Here I was, at last, in the very house occupied by one of these marvellous circles; and under circumstances, too, calculated to invest their proceedings with even more than usual interest. While I warmed my chilled limbs by the fire, and ruminated on the subject just mentioned, my solitude was suddenly invaded by an amazing apparition. It was a tall man, past middle life, with thin, cadaverous face, very black, bright, penetrating eyes, and a beard that fell nearly to his waist. I immediately perceived that it was the same indi vidual who had held colloquy with Jehu, from the window. THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 135 The man proceeded to say, that one of the Har- monial Circles was being held in the house that they had just closed a very interesting interview with the spirit of Alexander the Great that they were now about to call up the spirit of the mur dered person, whose body we had brought into the house; and that if I pleased to join the circle during this scene, I had perfect freedom to do so. All this sounded amazingly strange, as though I had, all at once, come into the midst of Egyptian enchantments, and stood face to face with Cheops. If he had, in his direct, matter-of-fact way, invited me up to the bar to take a brandy sling with Pha raoh, or proposed that I should lead the Queen of Sheba into a cotillion, it would not have been a grain more surprising. They had just dismissed Alexander the Great, after a pleasant little interview, had they? So that imperious and mighty shade, who made the world tremble under the hoofs of his war-horse while here in the flesh, has grown so pacific and humble during the centuries, and has so modified his tastes, moreover, as to now attend evening parties at country taverns ! Verily, this was quite as astonishing as the ethics of Mrs. Ilarrowscratch. 136 TIIE TANGLETOWX LETTERS. I bit my lips and wrung my fingers, to make sure that I was not dreaming. No, it was a positive reality. There stood the modern Charon, who dealt so familiarly with th great dead, complacently toying with his ripe Roman beard, and patiently waiting my decision. If he had been Alexander s preceptor himself, he could not have been more easy and self-possessed. After a little perturbed reflection, I arose, and with a curious sort of sensation, not easily de scribed, told Charon that I had no objection to joining the Circle, at least for a few minutes. With that he led the way to the room. There were some fifteen men and women seated round an old table, which had been drawn into the centre of the room. The candles had burned low, and the dim light that shone upon the faces of these persons imparted to them a truly spectral appearance. Pale from the protracted vigil, there was a glaring brightness in their eyes that indicated excitement bordering upon insanity. At one extremity of the table sat a slim young man, whose face had mostly run to beard, and w r hose attenuated limbs seemed to have been ham mered out upon an anvil, like steel rools. He seemed occupied with, a determined assault upon letters; I THE TANGLETOWX LETTERS. 137 for an alphabet was spread before him, and this he was belaboring, letter by letter, with all the force of his right hand. I soon understood, however, that somebody s spirit was supposed to possess this young man, and to use his hand in this extraordi nary manner to spell words and sentences. Each letter that was required to express the sense of the spirit was summoned by a resounding blow, and came into its appointed place in the sentence, like a reluctant recruit, compelled to serve in some revolting cause. It was this monotonous thumping which I had heard while in my own room, a few minutes before. At the opposite end of the table, sat a woman whom I at first supposed to be in the last mor tal agony, such writhings and contortions did she exhibit. But Charon, noticing my alarm, assured me that this apparent suffering was only the ordinary phe nomenon presented by a person in a trance, and that the woman whom I now saw in this state, was one of their most powerful "speaking mediums." Something apparently familiar in the visage and figure of this woman had struck me, the instant my eyes rested upon her; and now, as I observed 138 THE TANGLETOWX LETTERS. her more attentively, I recognized in spite of writhings and contortions -.my inevitable Mrs. Harrowscratch. Yes, there she was this torment of my latter-day existence glorying in exuber ant publicity, and intrepidly seizing upon angelic society through convulsions awful to behold. I was instantly reminded of a tradition of which I have somewhere read, of some audacious person attempting to scale the heavenly ramparts. I expect Mrs. Harrowscratch will yet attempt the same respectable feat, and so put Sam Patch in the shade, while she furnishes the theme of another Miltonic epic. The edifying scene that ensued, I will describe to you in my next communication. THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 139 LETTER SEVENTEENTH. IN WHICH MR. TRAP THREATENS THE SPIRITUALISTS WITH COMMON SENSE, AT WHICH THEY ARE SOMEWHAT DISGUSTED, AND A VIOLENT SENSATION IS FINALLY PRODUCED, GREATLY TO THE PREJUDICE OF BELSHAZZAR. IN the midst of the whimsical group described in my last, I suffered myself to be seated. On one side of me sat the Longbeard, Charon, with his dark, glittering eyes, reminding me of all the alleged deviltries of Magic ; and on the other was a ghastly, angular woman, who was, as I judged, more familiar with "the Night side of nature," as Mrs, Crow and other sombre seers have revealed it than with any- of the sunnier aspects of existence. With hands solemnly outspread upon the ta ble in scrupulous imitation of the rest and with a disturbing sense of the absurdity and pre sumption of the whole thing, I sat in all my dignity, preserving as manful a gravity as I could. Mrs. Harrowscratch, having writhed herself com pletely into the trance, gave signs of being ready 140 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. to announce some celestial message. But the attenuated young man already described, having his right hand still in the employ of an industrious spirit, kept up such a persistent clapping as to monopolize the attention of the company. The communications received through this me dium, appeared to be mainly addressed to the angular female at my left, who was just then pos sessing herself of the topography of the heavenly region. Charon whispered me that the medium had been a most dissolute young man, and moreover, an utter disbeliever in the doctrines of religion. He nat urally considered it a great merit in spiritualism, that it had converted such an obdurate case. I, on my own part, considered it not a little remarkable that such a person should have been chosen as the vehicle of divine communications. While I was indulging in this reflection, the alleged spirit gave a response to one of my angular neighbor s questions, so shockingly irreverent that the whole Circle recoiled in a kind of dismay. " What does the spirit mean by such an answer? " inquired the medium. For half a minute, a struggle seemed to take place for the possession of the medium s hand. He THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 141 was violently shaken from side to side, until it seemed probable that the table itself would be overthrown. At length the hand relapsed into its customary motion, and the Circle were informed that the spirit had been deceiving them. " It is one of the lying spirits," explained Charon, "and not one of the spirits of light, as he repre sented himself. The lying spirits are much nearer to us than those that are truthful, and frequently exhibit their malignity by imposing upon us the most outrageous falsehoods." " It is a pity that such is the case," said I, " since it must seriously detract from the value of your communications it being impossible to decide whether a given statement proceeds from a true or a false spirit." " We are not so much embarrassed by the diffi culty as you suppose," answered Charon; "we can generally tell by the character of a communication from what source it emanates" "And still, unless I was much mistaken, the statements of the last spirit touching the heavenly world were received by you all as credible, until the very close of the message." By this time the Circle had begun to eye me with no friendly glances. 142 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. "You are mistaken," responded Charon; "the statements of the last spirit were not received by us as entirely credible. They did not perfectly accord with our intuitions; and where a spirit does not speak according to our intuitions, we do not consider him a truthful spirit." "That is to say," resumed I, "when a spirit testifies to the truth of what you wish to believe, you accept its communications as credible ; but when it asserts things that are repugnant to you, you con demn it as a lying witness." "Exactly," returned Charon, "you have our criterion to perfection." "Very well, then," said I, " perhaps you can tell me what benefit you derive from these communica tions, since they are not in themselves authoritative, but liable to be received or rejected according as they gratify or displease your own judgment. It seems to me that any opinions you may have held respecting a future state, will be neither confirmed nor weakened by the testimony of the spirits, since they contradict each other, and since many of them are convicted deceivers." Here several members of the Circle interposed to arrest the controversy, reminding me that I had not been invited to debate the merits of spiritual- THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 143 ism, but to witness the phenomena. I willingly became silent, being indeed a little displeased with myself for having ventured to say so much. It was now intimated that the spirit of old Minos had taken possession of Mrs. Harrowscratch, and that the secret of the murder would be immediately disclosed. Awful were the writhings, on the part of that redoubtable female, which accompanied this announcement. After suitable preliminaries of this sort, which tended to raise the interest of the company to an amazing pitch, a low and indistinct muttering began to issue from the lips of the entranced. Unless I greatly err against charity, this was designed to imitate the feeble drivelling of extreme dotage ; but whether such was the actress s inten tion or not, the character did not appear to be very well personated. I question my ability to impart to you a true idea of the ensuing performance, even if it were desirable to do so. It is revolting to hear the dead caricatured, though you may have had no personal interest in them ; and it is pecu liarly so where the subject of the caricature hap pens to have been a friend or acquaintance while in ^he flesh. If you can imagine the ghost s tale in Hamlet rehearsed by a howling Dervish, you 144 THE TAXGLETOWN LETTERS. will obtain some idea of the manner with which the alleged spirit of old Minos, speaking through Mrs. Harrowscratch, related the horrible secret of the murder. One thing only did the spirit seem reluctant to disclose: it was the name of the person who had perpetrated the crime. But the circumstances of the tragedy, as there related, pointed unequiv ocally to a particular individual, whom I had no difficulty in recognizing ; though the rest of the company, being unacquainted with the family of the deceased, could not, of course, understand the allusion. "We entreat the spirit to give us the name of the murderer," said Charon. The medium wTithed and moaned, and tossed herself about in the chair in the most extraordinary fashion. "I doubt if the spirit be permitted to tell that secret," observed the attenuated young man. "It must be disclosed," retorted Charon, fixing his piercing eyes upon the medium, and clutching her hands convulsively; "I adjure thee by heaven and earth, by the souls of the just made perfect, and by the holy Spirit "of. God! " Each person bent forward with dilating eyes and TPIE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 145 suspended breath, and an interest that was almost fierce in its eagerness. The medium struggled and gasped, as if seeking deliverance from some powerful thrall, and at last seemed to sink into utter exhaustion. "The name the name of the murderer! " per sisted Charon, his eyes almost blazing as he bent them on the medium s face. A convulsive movement of the muscles was, for a moment, the only response ; but finally came the audible words "He the blood-stained is even under this roof! " There was an emotion of horror depicted on every face. "The name! I conjure thee, reveal the NAME! " whispered Charon, in a voice of such intense deter mination that I confess my heart was thrilled by it. " I must perforce obey thee," answered the spirit; "the name of the blood-stained is Belshazzar!" A strange voice suddenly rung through the room. "Lying and perjured sorcerers!" cried Belshaz- zar, " May God blast the tongues that have con spired to ruin me ! " 146 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. For a moment lie stood erect and wrathful, and then fainted dead away. We carried him back to his room, and it was some time before his consciousness returned. Thus closed my interview with the spirits. THE TANGLETOWN LETTEES. 147 LETTER EIGHTEENTH. IN WHICH IS BROUGHT TO LIGHT THE INCREDIBLE WICKEDNESS OF MRS. HARROWSCRATCH, AND THE SUDDEN CONFUSION OP THAT INCOMPARABLE PERSON. I AM at length able to narrate the climax of this exciting adventure. I believe my last communica tion closed with my interview with the Harmonic Circle. It is not positively certain that you gained a very clear idea of that transaction, from my letter, for I wrote in more than common haste, besides having my mind distracted by various anxi eties. Add to all, that these letters have multi plied beyond my original intention, and that I have little skill in the descriptions which they occasionally involve. A man cunning in the use of language, might, no doubt, have made a very effective impression with my materials; but, being myself no artist, and having no literary reputation at stake, I only aim to give you an unvarnished 148 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. statement of what befel me during this unhappy excursion.* It was near daybreak when I left Belshazzar s chamber. The Circle had dissolved, and complete silence pervaded the house. I went below. A gleam of light shone from the room in which the corpse had been deposited ; but elsewhere it was total darkness. I groped to the sitting-room ad joining the bar. The fire had burned to ashes; and the sobbing of the damp wind outside for the storm was gradually abating sounded mourn ful and desolate* Reclining upon a settee at the further side of the room, I ruminated on the extraordinary events of the last few hours, and debated with myself what should first be done in the present emergency. * It is to be hoped that the unaffected modesty and meekness of Mr. Trap, as evinced in the above sentences, may conciliate those readers who complain of the heaviness of the old gentleman s narrative, or who are so unfortunate as not to see the point of his well-meant allusions. Mr. Trap is not a man of letters indeed, we suspect his education was rather neglected and much less is he an inventor of tragedy, or professor in any of the narcotic schools of literature. He is a simple- minded old gentleman, of observing habits and somewhat conservative tendencies, but of unimpeachable goodness of heart, who is describing his adventures, and commenting on men and things in his confidential wa y totally unconscious of his numerous and critical auditory. [EDITOR TANGLETOWN LETTERS.] THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 149 I did not, as you will have supposed, attach much importance to the charge preferred against Bel shazzar by the alleged spirit ; but still, the behavior of my Israelite had been extraordinary, and the whole transaction was of a nature to trouble the imagination. A superstitious fear had haunted Belshazzar during the greater part of the night; and had taken such vigorous hold upon him as to supplant, apparently, for the time being, the re vengeful purpose which, had recently actuated him. To whatever cause this change might be attrib uted, I rejoiced in it as likely to avert for the present, at least the dangerous collision between Belshazzar and Chatterton; and I hoped that persuading my companion to tarry for me at the tavern I might proceed in a few hours, alone, in search of Amelia. Thus reflecting and planning, I had nearly lapsed into sleep, when I became gradually conscious of the sound of voices within the room. So vague was the impression, at first, in my half-conscious state, that I supposed myself to be dreaming ; and the subdued tone in which the parties conversed, tended to prolong the delusion. But, at length, the unmistakable voice of Mrs. Ilarrowscratch 150 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. made itself distinctly audible, and I was wakeful enough after that. These were about the first words I was able to understand : "I tell you," said the intrepid reformer, "it is our only chance of effecting a separation between them. I have tried to work upon her passion and his jealousy, but that string is broken. Her pru dery and Chatterton s impatience have ruined that branch of the plot. It must be this, or nothing." Some indistinct response was made to these words, and I recognized the voice of Charon. Mrs. Harrowscratch immediately proceeded : " Have I not told you with what perseverance I have devoted myself to this business? with what skill I have managed it from the beginning? I put the first devilish suggestion into Chatterton s heart, and have held the tempting idea before him, until his whole soul has become inflamed by it. I have so contrived matters that she has been thrown continually in his society ; and thus, while expos ing her to all the blandishments of his company, I have labored, with all the art I am mistress of, to undermine her principles, and to make her look upon her own scruples as ridiculous This part of my task I have had to manage with THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 151 great prudence. A direct attack would have dis gusted her, and spoiled my influence. A woman s instincts as it is now common to designate them have an obstinate leaning toward virtue. She can not be corrupted by any direct or open means. Her mind is easily sophisticated for she is no great reasoner and this is the only means of corrupting her heart. Don t sneer at me, sir; I once had a woman s delicacy myself, and I tell you there is nothing to which she clings with such des peration, and nothing of which she is not capable when it is once gone." There was a perceptible faltering in the woman s voice, as she pronounced the last words, that some how touched me with an emotion of momentary compassion. " You found her impressible to your artifices, I presume," said Charon. "Her situation naturally gave me an advantage. She abhorred her husband, and her vacant heart lay, as it were, at the mercy of the first passer by. I felt sure that its barriers might be passed by so agile and brilliant a man as Chatterton I made my wicked approaches by a thousand sub tle manoeuvres preparing his way! It was a task that could not be hurried. Time must needs 152 T1IE TAXGLETOWN LETTERS. be allowed for my sophistries to work One evening I read her a powerful story it was of unlawful love; but when I approached the sequel, I violated the author s moral, and repre sented a happy consummation ! " "An enterprising experiment, that," observed Charon, "how did it take?" "We were quite alone. She made no remark upon it for half an hour, but sat as in deep reverie. Finally, she looked me steadily in the face, and said, that was an immodest deception you tried to practice upon me. I had read the story. The lovers committed suicide to escape their own shame and the scorn of mankind. " "By Jove! your vaulting deviltry overleaped itself there." "I had to exercise the greatest caution, after that; but still, I saw that she yielded, little by little, to my incessant temptations not that she saw whither she was sliding, or comprehended her own feelings but I, (who had arranged the plot, and made myself familiar with every thread of the web,) saw the direction her mind was assuming, and knew the inevitable abyss! " You can imagine, Frank, with what emotions I listened to this diabolical confession. THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 153 At length," pursued Mrs. Harrowscratch, U I Lad the satisfaction of feeling that the fetters of this unlawful affection were securely riveted upon the reluctant woman. I was persuaded that she would sacrifice everything to him It was time to stimulate the jealousy of Belshazzar. A rupture, as a diplomatist would say, was indis pensable. Then a collision violence, perhaps then a separation. Then scandal disgrace, and Amelia would be committed to our party her name and her fortune would be at our disposal. A woman of her substance won to the side of our philosophy would. richly recompense all my exer tions; for what we especially need as you and I have often said is the authority of brilliant social examples, and the power of money. (With a few hundreds at my command, for instance, I would publish my LILLY BASSWOOD, a story that all the booksellers are afraid of, because they think it cal culated to shock l popular prejudices! And you might go on with your high-toned journal, devoted to the theory of the Harmonic Conjunction, but for want of that indispensable currency, of which this woman has an overflowing abundance.") Ah, Frank, I begin to understand why Mrs. H. 7* 154 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. was so desirous of converting me to her delightful ethics. " It was about a week since," pur sued this intrepid female, "while we were stopping at P , that I forwarded an anonymous letter to Belshazzar. I know the suspicious and inflam matory nature of the man, and calculated that four or five days would bring him in fury upon us. I designed that he should find Chatterton in sedu lous attendance upon his wife ; and I knew that he would not require very strong confirmation of what had been charged in the letter. Whatever should happen, then, I trusted to my somewhat ready invention to turn it to an advantageous account." "And yet this full-blown scheme collapsed miserably?" said Charon. " By an utterly unforeseen accident. Scarcely had the letter started on its course, than Satan tempted Chatterton to commit the maddest folly. The conceited, reckless, impatient fool! Whatever favor he had won in her eyes, was lost in one shameful, fatal instant. He deserves the doom of an anchorite for his cursed imprudence Amelia came to me like an angel of wrath. My God! what fury flashed from her scarlet face! Her form swayed and heaved like a tall maple THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 155 exposed to the tempest. No woman on the stage ever looked so grand and terrible. She amazed and confounded me. It must have been true resentment an abhorrence inspired by invincible virtue Of course, Chatterton fled, he will never dare to look her in the face again. Our party scattered the same day, Amelia to visit some acquaintance hereabout, and I " " To seek whom you may devour," said Charon, completing the sentence in his own way. There was a momentary silence ; and I breathed a devout thanksgiving for the escape of my belea guered friend. The story had singularly confirmed both my fears for her, and my faith in her. I was never so proud of Amelia as at that instant. "And now," observed Charon, "everything de pends on the effect of this absurd charge which you have preferred against Belshazzar ! " "You forget, it is not I, but the spirit of Minos speaking through me, that has charged this crime upon Belshazzar. Let no one say that I have accused him?" Charon uttered a low whistle, which seemed to express an infinite contempt for something or somebody. 156 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. "A capital resource, is this new-fangled necro mancy especially to rogues in extremity. I once knew a thief who made the devil responsible for all his little peccadilloes ; and I have hope that the spirits may be made to assume our burdens, yet more effectually, whenever we shall be in danger of foundering beneath them! But I am afraid it will be hard to substantiate your accusation the testimony of spirits not being received in our courts!" "Pshaw! as if I wanted to bring the man to the gallows! All I expect is, to cast a certain suspicion over him to have him regarded with a sort of odium. If I can but increase Amelia s abhorrence of him a single degree, she will yet leave him in spite of all. And, fortunately, his behavior was such, at the instant of the accusation, as to lend it confirmation. Nothing could have been better. Was there a person present who will not account such extraordinary emotion a sign of guilt?" "Do not be too sanguine; there was the old gent. Mr. Trap, I think you called him who argued against our first fact, and who, I observed, regarded you with more than a doubtful glance. I THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 157 think you were unwise to have invited so shrewd a man to witness our farce." " On the contrary, it was important to have him present, for he thinks Belshazzar is capable of any crime ; and would, at all events, countenance an impression that is likely to separate Amelia from him. Besides " Mrs. Harrowscratch broke off suddenly, and with a cry of pain ; for Charon had seized her arm with a fierce grasp, while he silently pointed toward the settee. The fact is, the day had been gradually break ing, during this strange conversation, and, as a matter of course, my reclining form had become visible. They tarried not for explanation. A profane ejaculation from one, and a hysterical cry from the other, as they vanished through the doorway, was all the salute I received. As I stepped into the hall, with a view of pass ing to Belshazzar s chamber, a carriage was driven 158 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. furiously to the door, from which, almost instantly, appeared the noble form of Amelia. How rapidly travel woful tidings ! Two hours before, at D , she had heard the bloody news : and here she came, through the reeking dawn, to greet her father s corpse. THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 159 NOTE. BY THE INSINUATING EDITOR. FROM some indistinct memoranda written on the back of this letter, it would seem that Mr. Trap desired to qualify, in some measure, his allusions to SPIRITUALISM. The mention of the subject, which occurs in this letter and the one preceding, was made at an early stage of the " manifestations," and under circumstances by no means favorable to a good opinion of the phenomena. Subsequent investigations, while they failed to convince Mr. Trap of the spiritual origin of the appearances, seem to have bred in him a little more respect for some of them. Now and then he appears to have witnessed a phenomenon that almost persuaded him to become a spiritualist there being in it no pal pable violations of propriety and common sense but it was his fate to encounter, directly after ward, a manifestation of another sort full of grossness, buffoonery and clap-trap and so his feeble faith died in the very act of being born. Mr. Trap seems to have been greatly annoyed by 160 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. the persevering endeavors of Peskiewitch to con vert him to the new ism. This enlightened person, and exemplary head of a family, has become a famous " medium." Wherever he goes, groups of spirits struggle for the monopoly of his organs, that they may shed their wisdom on the world through so transparent an agency. If he goes out to spend a social evening with a friend, the enrap tured furniture straightway holds high carnival the aspiring sofa sailing up stairs with edifying facil ity solid astral lamps going about to wink, hu morously, at all the pictures demure old tables sud denly splitting themselves with irrepressible glee and the piano bursting out into such uproarious hilarity, that the very keys jump out of their places, and frisk about the room like incorrigible imps! Lately, Peskiewitch has become a trance lec turer: he travels extensively his expenses being paid by liberal collections and thus he sees a good deal of the world, and the world sees a good deal of him. lie goes before his audience, utterly unconscious of what he is destined to say, silently advertising to the spiritual world in general "A MAN TO LET; INQUIRE WITHIN." In due time, some spirit desiring short lease of such a tenement, examines the premises and takes possession ; uses THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 161 the corporeal furniture of our Peskiewitch as long as it likes, and then vacates the place HE, mean time, being as unconscious of all that has transpired as any house in Tangletown is of the doings of its tenants! It may argue some bigotry in Mr. Trap, that he has not been persuaded to acknowledge the claims of spiritualism, with all the advantages of inter course with so accomplished a medium. Such, however, is the fact; and, perhaps, I can riot bet ter justify my old friend, in the eyes of the true believers, than by quoting his actual convictions on the subject, as they are indicated in the above mentioned memoranda. I. That men of unquestioned sincerity and intelligence believe the "manifestations" to be " spiritual." SOBER SECOND-THOUGHT That many such per sons have, in various ages and countries, been egregiously humbugged. II. That many hollow-hearted adventurers resort to the phenomena for "capital," and achieve em- iiient success by abusing the natural " gullibil ity" of man. SAVING CLAUSE That bad men are liable to be found in all parties, and that Truth is not respons- 162 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. ible for the dregs it may bring up, in its descent into society. III. That, since God is Infinite, and man Finite, there may be "more things in Heaven and Earth than are dreamed of in our philosophy." ULTIMATE REFLECTION That it is best to prove all things, if we can, and to hold fast to that which we know to be good. THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 163 LETTER NINETEENTH. EXHIBITING -MR. TRAP IN ONE OF HIS MORALIZING MOODS, AND ALSO AFFORDING A GLIMPSE OF THE WISE OLD GENTLEMAN AS CRITIC; THE WHOLE LETTER BEING LESS DULL THAN MIGHT HAVE BEEN EXPECTED. I RETURNED to Tangletown yesterday, after hav ing seen the body of poor old Minos laid asleep at Greenwood. It is a beautiful place to lie after the struggle of life is over, but scarcely the place befitting the mortal repose of such a man as Minos. Youth, in the lustre of its freshest beauty Manliness, in the serenity of its perfect life patient Virtue, con tending with unmerited persecution and Genius, luxuriating in the lofty realm of the Ideal these have an indisputable title to the spot, where the beneficence of Nature and the tender care of Man unite to embellish the city of the dead. But, for those who have lived grossly, and wholly for the aggrandizement of their pitiful self who had no sympathy for man, no generous faith in God no 164 THE TANGLETOWX LETTERS. sparkling of Fancy, no illusions of Hope, to gild and soften the rigorous aspect of the world who have imprisoned every glorious faculty, and ban ished every noble emotion, while they have in dulged a sordid meanness or brutish sensuality what claim have they to this solemn Paradise, where all things speak of Beauty and of Hope of generous and reverential Memory in Man, and of his perennial trust in the Loving Kindness of his God? And yet it were unkind to deny to those, whose lives were barren of all beauty, the uncon scious adornment of a grave. To none is this mortal life so bleak, so delusive, and so mysterious, as to the sordid and the bad. Let the odor of flowers breathe upon them, and holy symbols mar shal them along their solemn way, as they pass hence into the portal that whispers no secrets back. For I have a trust that the Green wood, on the other side of the grave, will not be deemed desecrated by any soul that God has ever made, after being refined in the crucible of his Providence, and baptized in the aroma of his Love. At the funeral was enacted a wretched farce that I can not forbear alluding to. It consisted in eulo gizing the deceased for a great number of Virtues THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 165 which he did not possess. So utterly inapplicable was the language to the occasion, that it had the effect of a stinging satire, and only served to remind every hearer of the lamentable deficiencies in the character it was designed to glorify. I could not but marvel at the obtuseness of the minister, in not foreseeing the inevitable effect of such a preposter ous eulogy; while I was shocked at the moral recklessness that could perpetrate, in so public a manner, such a notorious falsehood. Let the errors of the dead be forgotten at their graves ; but let no man outrage propriety, or trifle with the dictates of Truth, by ascribing to them attributes which they never possessed, and thus breaking down the sacred distinctions of character. It is not yet known by whose hand old Minos came to hi? violent death. But, as he was found to have been robbed, no doubt the love of money as it had caused him to live grossly also brought nim to his bloody doom. The idol he had wor shipped slew him. Belshazzar is singularly affected by the sacri legious farce, which was played, to his prejudice, at the country tavern. It is in vain that I have exposed to him the whole plot. It seems that he and Minos had quarrelled at their last meeting, on 166 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. some business difficulty, and that the wrathful old man on parting with his son-in-law had threat ened him with vengeance, whether he lived or died. These equivocal words disregarded at the time were recalled with terror when the murdered body of Minos was so unexpectedly found; and, from that moment, a vague, intolerable dread hung over Belshazzar, which was aggravated into positive consternation, when he heard, as he supposed, the spirit of the dead charge the murder itself upon him. So superstitious is this man, and so credulous in reference to supernatural agencies, that the occur rence really affects him to a degree which you can hardly appreciate. Nor is the case rendered less disturbing by the fact, that certain spirit ualists actually implicate him in the crime, on the authority of that most impudent and unhallowed imposture. Mrs. Harrowscratch and her minion precipitately fled from the tavern, and I think that even her impudence will shrink from any attempt to justify herself to Amelia. Peskiewitch is rather crest-fallen by the report I have made on the Harrowscratchian scheme, and has wisely withheld two or three sonnets which THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 167 he was about to publish, in praise of his intrepid favorite. While alluding to Peskiewitch s sonnetteering, I may as well inform you that the gifted fellow has written an epic of some ten thousand lines, designed to commemorate the progress of our arms in Mexico. The plot, I am led to believe, must be inscrutably intricate, since I can gain no apprehen sion of it, after having listened to five successive rehearsals. A diversity of measures is employed, which tends to avert monotony in the reading; and, indeed, traversing the ever-changing page is productive of the same pleasure one experiences in riding over a fresh plowed and uneven field, with a neck-breaking ditch to be leaped every three rods. As for metaphors, they inflate every line, and are so cunningly interlinked, from beginning to end of the work, that it is impossible to separate one from another. So profound are they in their purport, moreover, that a common reader will be utterly baffled in his attempt to penetrate their meaning. In nothing, perhaps, is the exuberant genius of the author more richly manifest, than in these recondite metaphors. They will constitute a difficult study, even for the learned, and none but the most ingen- 168 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. ious critics will be able to show how felicitous they are. The modest author tells me, confidentially, that he does not expect from the poem any such popu larity as has attended Homer s epics, but that he shall be content if it insures him an income of two or three thousand a year. One evidence of the merit of the work has certainly not been wanting : the booksellers show an astonishing unanimity of judgment in their universal rejection of it thereby implying for it a certain affinity with "Paradise Lost," and other celebrated productions, that have been miserably embarrassed in getting before the public, through the dullness and parsimoniousness of the literary ushers. THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 169 LETTER TWENTIETH. IN WHICH IS SHOWN HOW THE APPLE OF DISCORD GOT INTO MR. TRAP S CHURCH, AND HIS DUBIOUS SUCCESS AS GRAND PACIFICATOR. OUR minister has just paid me a visit. Things are turning out as I had feared they might. The parish is convulsed by dissensions on the slavery question. Several influential men are indignant toward the minister, for having given his views on the Fugitive Slave Bill. They threaten to with draw from the church, and connect themselves with Dr. Fiblong s Society, unless Mr. Mann is dismissed. Others glory in the minister s boldness and fidelity. Sharing his views, or admiring his independence, they declare themselves ready to stand by him through the severest trials. Whenever these parties meet, there is a violent collision. Neither party is very tolerant of the other s views, I suspect, and each is quite as willing to aggravate, as conciliate, his excited opponent. All this troubles and depresses the minister to a 8 170 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. greater degree than either faction is aware. He does not desire that the parish should be sundered on his account, for his is a ministry of reconcilia tion. He can not take a partisan attitude with either party, for both are under his spiritual charge, and, by speaking the truth in love, he would equally promote the welfare of both. What he desires is, to persuade one faction not to contend on his ac count, and to convince the other that he is not their enemy because he has dared to preach the truth. Mr. Mann has flattered me by soliciting my counsel in this unpleasant exigency ; but I heartily wish for him a more competent adviser. The best I can do, I think, will be to go out and reason with some of the most violent agitators. I have been abroad among different members of the Society on a mission of conciliation. I have talked myself hoarse; and been called a fool so many times in the course of the day, that I am almost ready to admit the charge. The parish is THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 171 possessed by the spirit of discord. I have found common sense as much out of favor as charity. Even Herman is not unaffected by the evil spirit of the time. He has subscribed for the Liberator newspaper, and already talks like a revolutionist. 172 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. LETTER TWENTY-FIRST. CONTAINING AN ALLUSION TO DR. FIBLONG, AND A STRAIN OF DECLAMATION MORE TRUTHFUL THAN COMPLIMENTARY. MATTERS are growing worse and -worse in our congregation. Three families have abandoned the church, and taken seats with Dr. Fiblong s genteel flock. That sound divine is just now engaged in delivering a course of sermons on LATENT INFIDEL ITY, OR SYMPTOMS OF THE SATANIC SPIRIT IN THE NATURAL MAN; in which as I am informed by one of his admiring hearers it is conclusively proved that all who speak against the Fugitive Slave Bill, or decline to execute its provisions, are destitute of "vital piety," led by their "carnal sensibilities," naturally seditious, argumentative rationalists, and certain to be conducted by their free-thinking habits into eternal hell-fire. Frank, pardon an indignant philippic. I am out of patience with the timid subserviency and imbe cile cant of the popular clergy. I am amazed at THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 173 the drowsy attitude of the Christian Church toward the formidable evils of the time. I am confounded by the apathy of those who claim to be "pious" and "evangelical," in view of the gigantic iniqui ties that swagger before them unrebuked. Unless my superficial reading of Christian History has deceived me, the Church of Christ was once the bulwark of the oppressed; the terror of hypo crites ; the nursery of bold and genial Manliness ; the awe and dread both of private villainy and public crime ; the source of ample charities, and the inspiration of moral heroism, that blessed arid dignified all that came within its sphere. What is it now? An easy, well-kept establishment, a decent routine ; a spiritual phantasm, gliding noise lessly about the world, and leaving no sign. Once, there were no Temperance, or Peace, or Anti-Sla very societies, for the Church included all these in her ample purposes, and expressed the best and highest aspirations of man. Now, brave and earnest men must leave the Church or at least the fash ionable departments of it occupied as it is with Theological inanities and erect independent or ganizations for the vindication of human rights, and the promotion of social purity ; and, after all, be 174 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. stigmatized as " infidels," by the dull and canting drivellers whom they have left behind. Once, the Christian clergy were strong and stal wart men, who believed that they were God s min isters, and not the puppets of their people ; who looked iniquity in the face, bluster as it might, and tore off its cunning mask, come what would of it being conscious that God s grace was sufficient for them. What are they now ? I blush to answer. Many of them, timid sycophants and speculative drivellers, who go carefully round some state sin or fashionable infidelity as a dandy would avoid a dangerous bull and then pacify their conscien ces by coming down, with demonstrative bravery, upon some Bible crime such as the sin against the Holy Ghost which has not been committed for eighteen hundred years, and never will be again Most of our genteel congregations, I suppose, are edified by such ministers ; and how the miserable world is to be helped out of the slough in which it flounders, ly such guides, is inscrutable to me. I know there are true, and gifted, and valiant men yet in the ministry; but they are generally sta tioned over obscure charges, and the sphere of their influence is narrow. Besides, the situation of those THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 175 men is always precarious ; for their congregations taking their cue from the larger societies are prone to take alarm at any unusual freedom on the part of their preacher, arid solicitous to confine him within what are deemed orthodox limits, even though they shackle the brightest and most benefi cent of his attributes. that societies knew their true interests better ! For, while dictating to the preachers what they shall utter, and hearing, there fore, only the echo of their own imbecility, they must lapse into apathy and practical atheism; whereas a more tolerant disposition w r ould stimu late every gift and energy of the preacher, infuse an original and vital quality into his free words, and render his ministry a living power instead of a dead formula. that ministers had more heroism of soul, and more faith in God ! For then would they claim a free utterance, and fearlessly maintain the sovereignty of God s Truth in the earth ; and no true man would ever suffer for his fidelity, if no base time-server was at hand to supersede him. I have received a letter from my dear Aunt Honoria, in which she expresses much concern for 176 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. my spiritual safety. I shall write her in a few days, when I hope to put her fears to rest, and to convince her that I have had quite as profound an experience of the matters to which she alludes, as herself. THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 177 LETTER TWENTY-SECOND. IN WHICH MR. TRAP CONFESSES HIS HERESY, AND DISCLOSES THE TERRIBLE TRAGEDY OF HIS DOMESTIC LIFE. MY BELOVED AUNT: I have read your letter attentively, and bestowed upon it that deliberate consideration which is merited by the importance of the subject which it introduces. In submitting o my reply, I shall use the utmost frankness, stating my convictions without reserve, and characterizing things by what seem to be the right terms, even at the risk of being charged with severity. Your kind heart seems to be troubled by the ap prehension, that I am "neglecting the interest of my soul." The meaning of this language is quite obvious. You doubt whether I have not postponed the consideration of my prospects in the future state, whether I am not unsettled in view of my spiritual destination, and whether I may not still be under the "wrath and curse of God." I know your views, and the views of your Church, too well, not to comprehend the whole sum of your anxieties. Let me hasten, then, to assure you oh 178 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. my behalf, or, at least, to tell you explicitly on what ground I have planted my feet. I have not neglected this all-important subject. Even when I was a boy, and sat in the old church in the valley, through the long, interminable, and incomprehensible sermons then in vogue, I used to cogitate most seriously over the grim and lurid dogmas that came, smoking and seething, as it were, from the awful precincts of the parish pulpit. I received the whole message, then, as infallibly correct. Every article and clause of the creed were sacred in my sight. I really supposed myself in hourly peril of hell-fire, on account of that mo mentary weakness in Adam, when he tasted the fatal pippin. How many hours have I silently lamented that hapless transaction ! I assure you it made more than one apple as bitter, to my taste, as though it had been roasted in Sodom. I tried, with all my heart, to give thanks, on Sundays, for my existence; but when it occurred to me what sort of an existence it was for which I was affecting gratitude, I think my "hosannas" must have "lan guished." For a long time, as I well remember, I had a most distressing fear of the devil; and when, after much effort, I had come to consider myself rather pious, I made sure he would fall THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 179 afoul of me some dark niglit, and give me a terrible shaking for having deserted liis colors. o o By the time I was twelve years old, I had made many sincere attempts to "obtain a new heart," according to the directions of the church ; though to confess the whole truth I thought my natural heart answered very well. I tried to perceive, and acknowledge to myself, the utter depravity of my nature; but I found it impossible to understand how I could be so desperately wicked as our the ology represented. The church boldly charged me, by the lips of the minister, with being u wholly evil, and utterly incapable of any good;" and I plead guilty to the indictment supposing that the church must know a great deal more about me than I could possibly know about myself; and was, as a matter of course, cognizant of a great number of terrible misdemeanors in me, of which I had remained unconscious. One day, after I had saved one of my playmates from drowning, and given my dinner away to a blind man, I walked moodily home, thinking over that point of doctrine which declares that people. in their natural state, can not do a good thing, or please God in any way. Was it true, then, that, in neither of these acts, had any good been done 2 180 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. Was it not good to feed the hungry and preserve life, even though one might not have been "born again?" I was pondering the matter solemnly, when, all at once, I called to mind that the minister had said, that any acts of morcy done by an unregenerate person, so far from being reck oned to his credit, would only tend to plunge him deeper into perdition ! I stopped, as this frightful recollection occurred. For an instant I was posi tively terrified. I reflected as well as I could, but I only reasoned myself into a bottomless abyss of ethical and metaphysical contradictions. At last, a hard, reckless, defiant feeling came over me, and, I went to bed that night without one reverential emotion. ***** * * * * * I offer you these reminiscences for the purpose of showing at what an early age my mind was "exercised" on the great subject to which your letter refers. These confessions will also serve to explain the process by which I arrived at my present views. When I was about fourteen, an event occurred THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 181 which had an obvious and powerful effect on my religious convictions. Only a few miles from Collmore Hill, lived a dissolute young man by the name of Beals. Fas cinating in his manners as he was licentious in morals, he secured the confiding affection of a young girl, living in one of the neighboring towns ; and, after having brought her to disgrace under promise of marriage, murdered her in the despe rate hope of obliterating his offence. It was a crime that thrilled the community with utmost horror, and kindled against the libertine and mur derer a feeling of implacable vengeance, while it moved all hearts with compassion toward his frail and hapless victim. Nothing else was talked of, for many weeks. The most apathetic natures fired up into an ecstasy of wrath, as they dwelt on the doubly damning deed The villain was arrested; and, such was the furious excitement against him, that it was only with the utmost firm ness and vigilance on the part of the ministers 182 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. of the law, that he -was preserved from popular vengeance. Boy as I was, I remember to have shared the public excitement, in a very strong degree; and when one day at school, some one suggested the propriety of sacking the jail where Beals was con fined, and stringing him up between heaven and earth, without judicial process, -I was instantly as eager to enlist in the enterprise, as was ever fervid Crusader to march against the Infidel. But what I especially desire you to mark in this shocking occurrence, remains yet to be stated. According to the doctrine of our church, the poor girl thus suddenly cut off from life, with the stain of an unhallowed passion on her soul must be damned throughout all eternity. True, her reputation, down to this fatal lapse, had been irre proachable ; and her tender devotion to her aged parents was often mentioned, in connection with many a w r omanly excellence. Even this solitary error admitted of palliation, since it was more a proof of self-sacrificing affection than of unmaid- enly passion. Still, according to the church, she was assuredly damned. Living under the wrath and curse of God dying without an opportunity for repentance there being "no change after THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 183 death" she must inevitably suffer the black banish ment of hell, and the torment that admits of no mitigation forever. Men might feel compassion for her, but God would have no pity. Her doom must be as dark and horrible as that of the mis tresses of Nero, or, indeed, of the most depraved wretch that ever passed from the slough of vice into a hopeless grave ! I was thinking of all this, gloomily enough for I had grown familiar with all the merciless conditions of the creed when another appalling consideration was forced upon my mind. Beals had been tried, convicted, and sentenced to be hung. In prison, his gallows looming ever above him, and ever approaching nearer, as the solemn hours throbbed against his heart his whole life, moreover, rising up in judgment against him he had ample leisure for repentance, and inducements enough, God knows, to make his peace with heaven. Nor was there any lack of clerical counsel, admonition, exhortation, and en couragement in the cell of the condemned. Min isters, who appeared to reconcile themselves with 184 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. marvellous ease to the damnation of the woman - seeing, I suppose, that that was past remedy devoted themselves unremittingly to the salvation of her murderer; explaining scripture, and apply ing it to his case moving his vicious heart by craven terrors stimulating his feeble soul with glimmerings of hope, and trying divers processes for renovating his polluted life. At length his radical conversion was announced. He was become evangelically penitent. He had sung psalms in his cell had prayed for hours, with the eloquence of assured hope, and talked of his approaching execution as a happy release from the snares of the world to the joys of certain saint- ship. The ministers who had been instrumental in his conversion, were jubilant over their success. They seemed to have utterly forgotten his atro cious and cowardly crime, in their admiration of his penitence, and of his bright spiritual assurance They were never weary of exalting him as a mon ument of redeeming grace. In due time, Beals expiated his crimes on the scaffold. I care not to speculate on the question whether his conversion was genuine or not; the church, by the mouth of its oracles, pronounced it sound ; and there was no person of unimpeach THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 185 able orthodoxy, who did not believe that the late criminal swung straight into heaven. Indeed, in the long address which this inscrutable saint made on the scaffold, he evinced such confidence in his divine acceptance, and admonished the young men in such a strain of authority, that his situation must have seemed really enviable ; and I question whether it did not occur to more than one of his auditors, that the only means of obtaining such preeminent spiritual security, was to pursue the same career which had proved so fortunate for him. But mark the revolting mystery which the church brought to view, in its decisions concerning the spiritual destiny of these individuals. The fair young victim of consummate villainy guilty only of momentary weakness, and having a lifetime of excellence to redeem that solitary error must be driven into the realm of eternal horror and desolation. The seducer and murderer the author both of her error and her damnation whose whole life was composed of selfishness and infamy, and whose solitary merit questionable enough con sisted of a few hours of penitence, induced by the certainty of immediate death and the prospect of hell-fire this wretch goes safe and self-assured to heaven ! 186 THE TAXGLETOWN LETTERS. Such is the justice which the Infinite Father metes out to his children, according to the church s exposition of his economy! You, my beloved Aunt, accept such statements, and pretend to love the Being about whom they can fairly be made ! I have cast the blasphemous error under my feet, long since; otherwise, I had been without hope and without God in the world. I have crossed out some vehement language which I had written here not wishing to disturb the order of my narrative by anticipating emotions that belong to a later stage of my experience, and being equally unwilling to shock your mind by the expression of sentiments, whose source you may not clearly perceive. As I grew older in spite of tolerably good intentions, and a sincere desire to know the truth I found my nature hardening, and my faith in the church dogmas growing weaker every day. I despaired of ever comprehending the mazy in tricacies of Theology, and of ever obtaining an assurance of salvation by the means which it prescribed. I tried to ignore the matter altogether, and partially succeeded. Though not entirely free THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 187 from anxiety, and secretly exasperated, now and then, by some cunning puzzles that occurred in the sermons; my mind was attaining more vigor, my reason more independence, and I was, in various respects, better qualified to contend with the difficulties that beset me. The core of Adam s apple certainly troubled me less, and my fear of the devil was rapidly subsiding ; for, to be perfectly candid with you, the Almighty himself looked so terrible to me, that I thought I could not be in worse hands, even if the devil should carry me bodily off, like a kidnapped fugitive. Thus I was gradually working clear of your Theology like a poor, affrighted child stealing away from a slumbering dragon when the vin dictive horror awoke, and inflicted a wound I shall carry to my grave. Momentous as was the event to which I allude, I shall give it but a passing notice, for it laid my domestic peace in the dust, and opened a fountain of woe that has embittered years of my existence. Of course, it is painful to recall it. You know so little of the early part of my life, however, and especially of my mental experience, that I must show you the grim outlines of the calamity. 188 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. You are aware, perhaps, that I married young. But you can not have known the celestial treasure I received in the person of my wife. I can not describe her. Language fails me when I attempt to portray my inward sense of her excellence. It is enough that she answered the utmost longing of my heart, for earthly companionship, sympathy and affection. With her to share the world s favors, and to solace its rigors, life promised a suc cession of experiences, if not uniformly happy, at least always blessed. Less than a year after our marriage, one of those fanatical excitements, called revivals of religion, occurred at the quiet old church near Collmore Hill. It was the first of those periodical inunda tions of religious fury, which, for many years, con tinued to roll over our country, with the regularity of ihe seasons and the fatal effects of the simoom. You are too familiar with the operations of these excitements, to require of me any description of them. This one came upon the secluded little community in which we dwelt, like a tornado bursting upon a group of ships, becalmed in some lagoon of the tropics. To all its inherent elements THE TANGLETOWN LETTEES. 189 of terror, was superadded the circumstance of its entire novelty. It sounded an alarm to most hearts, second only to that which the archangel s trumpet might awake, summoning mankind before a retributive judgment-seat. In the same old church, where I had sat since early childhood where I had experienced so many hours of mental perplexity and religious fear struggling in the meshes of Theology, like an affrighted bird caught in the net of the fowler; there sat my sweet wife, pressing to my side in very consternation, quivering like the dove that sees black death at hand the murderous shafts of error piercing her sensitive soul to the quick, and pervading every sensation with pain and horror. Keckless fool ! that I afterward deemed myself. Yet I saw not the danger, until the poison had entered her heart. So good, so innocent, so tender, so beautiful, I trusted that even Theology must relent in her presence, and ignore some attributes of its inherent ferocity. I knew not then, what I have since observed, that such are the sacrifices Religious Error craves that, like the bloody gods of Pagan antiquity, whose fastidious appetites demanded the fairest victims, it passes by the coarse, the selfish, and the vile, and makes choice 190 THE TAXGLETOWN LETTERS. of one whose innocence is without spot, whose beauty is without blemish. O, with what frantic effort I struggled to save her ! In vain in vain. Once impressed with the fatal magnetism of the place, she was like one bound by a spell. Nothing but brute force could withdraw her feet from the deadly snare ; and even then, she heard, in her vivid fancy, the preacher s voice, that spoke her doom, and the doom of .all she loved dearest here below. She might have obtained assurance, perhaps, of her own spiritual safety, had she been selfish enough to have sought her personal welfare alone ; but a salvation that refused to encompass her beloved only tantalized and insulted her generous nature, and she would have preferred the lower most waste of hell, in the society of those to whom her heart was bound, to the most exalted seat in the Divine Coliseum, if she must look on the bloody wreck and throbbing anguish of the Infernal Arena. THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 191 Of my salvation, the conditions of the Church did not permit her to hope. In fact, my nature had grown callous under the continual friction of dogmas that perplexed my reason and insulted my moral sense; and the effect of all their frenzied declamation and pathetic entreaties, was only to precipitate me further into the abyss of doubt and irreligion. What, for instance, could any sane man make of the exhortation to repentance, when he was told, in the very same breath, that he could not take the first step toward salvation until it should please God to give him a supernatural im pulse in that direction ? It was like entreating a captive to flee from a burning prison, and, at the same time, reminding him that he can not stir until his keeper shall come and sever his chain. I had been so often perplexed, revolted, and exasperated by this outrageous method of presenting the case, that there no longer remained a probability of my being won by grace so inscrutable in its operations. Aside from my own dubious prospects, the ten der heart of my wife brooded over the fate of a brother a brave, chivalrous, roving boy who had rode the w r aves of ocean for many thousand leagues, and now slept below the shifting tides his hale face, with its wreath of curling hair, and 192 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. eyes that sparkled jwith the very light of heroism, forever hidden from sun and stars. Had that gal lant young spirit drifted down to hell ? Was that manly heart, that never sheltered an emotion of selfishness, or admitted a mean passion, now heav ing in hopeless torment? Were the errors of his undeveloped youth errors that sprung from the very effervescence of his vital and affluent nature, and doubtless bore with them some essence of vir tue itself so heinous in the sight of God, as to call down a retribution without mercy and without end? All this, the Church affirmed with terrible emphasis; and can you be surprised when I tell you that my sensitive companion grew desperate and crazed at the thought ? Was it a bad spirit, or a good one, that made her feel in her heart, that she had rather wander in the lowermost waste of hell, with husband and brother by her side, than take the most exalted seat in the Celestial Coli seum, if she must look on the bloody wreck and throbbing anguish of the Infernal Arena? THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 193 I am dwelling upon this dreadful experience longer than I had designed. Let me hasten to describe its tragic consummation. The storm of fanaticism at length passed away; and I cherished some faint hope that my wife might recover in part at least her former seren ity of mind. I knew that her soul was profoundly convulsed, but I trusted that, in the long tranquil summer of youth yet before her, the turbulent sen sations might subside, the blinding vapors exhale, and a ripple of soft melody yet sound through the pensive years. I knew not then what I after ward ascertained with such a thrill of horror that this gentle creature had already conceived a terrible resolution, which she nourished through many a dreary month, and at last executed with a crazed and conscientious heroism that language can not describe. You are a w T oman, and your heart will thrill at the secret I disclose. My beloved had formed the solemn resolve, never to survive to bring into the world a human soul, under the awful liabilities in which she supposed mankind to exist ! She would never become instrumental in raising up one human life, to enter upon an existence cursed of God, and likely to be consummated in eternal woe ! 0, you 194 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. who have known the joys of maternity, whose homes blossom with the beauty of little children flowers and pledges of generous nature and a cher ishing God lend me the light of all your happi ness that I may expose the appalling deformity of Keligious Error, and the impetus of all your house hold sympathies that I may curse its infernal cruelty ? My impending bereavement was hidden from me to the last. .... But, one dreadful evening, as I returned from a few hours absence, as I entered the home that might have been so blessed the bolt fell, wiJi a crash that appeared to shake the world My poor old mother met me in the hall, where Aurora was wont to welcome me, .... but why go on? .... I staggered to the death-cold chamber ; .... marble paleness of beauty that smote my sight! ....". In a few months more in place of that stagnant, ghastly death there might have been the winsome cry of a new life ; and a growth of luxuriant verdure might have adorned and supported the withered trunk of old age. THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 195 And there, by her side, I found her last words written and sealed. The little package told me all. The record of her soul s travail was there of her affection for me, that made death so awful of her forbearing tenderness toward the unborn, that made her sacrifice but a dutiful mercy. Dark shades of the Almighty wrath were on that paper, and lurid gleams, too, from the fabled pit It had been written at painful intervals coined out of her devoted heart blotted with ample tears. O God! did ever husband receive such tidings from his beloved? We laid the poor afflicted body in its solitary couch, on the garden-border, where the trees mur mur so sweetly in summer, and where the earliest birds sound the prelude of the spring. In after years, when Faith had come to me with its recon ciling beam, I bent my knees beside that sacred enclosure, and thanked God for the assurance that her soul had emerged as bright into the trailing glory of his high Purpose, as the queenliest star that climbs the milky way. But the dread secret of her death we shut in our hearts, deeming it too precious for the public gaze too sacred for vulgar judgment. 196 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. Is it surprising that, from the experience just narrated, I went forth into the world an infidel and a vagabond ? Do you marvel that every reveren tial and confiding thought of God departed from me that every religious emotion exhaled into the dreary night, whose smothering blackness settled over my spirit, without star or token? Ah, those were years of absolute bereavement, having all the anguish of grief, without its sanctifying allevia tions ! To walk the earth in the ever-present con sciousness of an affliction greater than you can bear to doubt if there be a God in heaven, and to experience a beggarly satisfaction in the idea that there is not since, in that case, you can charge your calamity upon nothing but the old heathen Fate to fling your orphan soul on the waste of eternity, and hear no response to its cries in all the silent spaces of the Universe to watch the imposing procession of the year, and witness nature s perpetual miracle in the process of the seasons, and yet obtain no symbol of the renova tion of those bright children of the resurrection, whom Time and Death have withered and wafted from your sight: this is part of your doom, who dwell amid the mutabilities of existence without God and without Hope ! THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 197 In the pit which Theology had dug for me, I groped and sorrowed for five barren years, when it pleased God to impart his truth to my under standing, and to give peace to my troubled heart. In the course of a journey to the south whither I had been summoned to transact import ant business I stopped one evening at a small village, on the northern frontier of Pennsylvania. After having dispatched supper, and ascertained that most of the guests at the tavern were too much in liquor to yield me any society, I strolled forth into the village, in that listless mood which takes hold of objects at random, and is altogether capricious in its interest. I presently found my self in the immediate vicinity of a very humble church, where, it seemed, service was in the act of being held. Now, I had not been within the walls of a church since my bereavement, and never expected to participate in the sacred service more. But an inward impulse as unaccountable as it was powerful inclined me to enter this place of prayer. I resisted the feeling for some time, and even walked a considerable distance past the building. But the sound of an anthem, breathed out upon the air from the according voices of many worshippers, came to my ear with such persuasiv 198 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. power, that I retraced my steps and entered the church. That act resulted in my redemption. For there I heard a new exposition of the Divine Economy, and obtained a new conception of human life. I found that the puzzling incongruities of your The ology, were but an imbecile legacy from the abstruse schoolmen ; and that its malignant tem per came of the infernal corruptions of the Chris tian scheme, which were consummated in the labor atory of Romanism. I found that the God whom the church professes to revere, was the atrocious embodiment of sacerdotal tyranny and Scandinavian barbarity, fostered by universal superstition, and perfected under the haggard glooms of the Medi aeval world. Penetrating the complicated upholstery of the Papacy, with which vast sections of the Protestant as well as the Catholic edifice is furnished, I dis cerned the lineaments of that primitive Chris tianity, which appeared as the expression of Infinite Wisdom the Ministry of Reconciliation the glory of the whole Earth. I saw the Univer sal Father, as Christ of Nazareth revealed him complete in every attribute that wins the heart and gives the mind assurance a Godhead perfect THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. . 199 in Affection, in Wisdom, and in Power. And I saw that our multiform yet equal Humanity budding into life under the breath of this benignant Power must exist from a perfect Motive and tend toward a blessed Destiny; and I felt that every treasure, hope, and aspiration of every hu man creature must be precious to the heart of God, and that every life must issue from the crucible of his Providence redeemed from all its dross, with all its powers perfected, with all its desires ful filled, and set as a jewel in the diadem of his untarnished glory. This is my faith. I do not now propose to un fold its evidences : I only wish to show you the Rock upon which I stand. You will have seen that I am no stranger to that momentous problem to which your anxieties point. My soul has expe rienced its conflict, and secured its victory has been wildly tossed by calamitous affliction, but has now entered into rest. I know that nothing can harm me more, while I faithfully obey the light I have received. 200 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. In closing, you will allow me a few more words touching the church from which I have departed. I have already remarked with sufficient plainness upon the inconsistencies and cruelty of your theol ogy. I desire to say, furthermore, that the church avowing such a theology must be essentially a school of selfishness. The Deity you worship is sel fish to the core of his nature creating men solely for his pleasure, without reference to their welfare ; governing them by a succession of caprices, rather than by any uniform principle ; and finally sending part of them into torment, in order to make a dis play of his sanguinary omnipotence, and satiate an inherent ferocity. Of course, in so far as men accept this Being as their Model aspiring toward him as their highest spiritual Ideal selfishness will become the central quality and main spring of their character; and their rule of conduct will be that everything must be sacrificed to their own desires, caprices, and private advantage. Indeed, the very first word your church addresses to impenitent men, is an appeal to their selfishness. In exhorting them to save their souls from the eternal vengeance, you not only address the basest feeling in human nature, but you make their per sonal interest the ruling motive which is to actuate THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 201 them in their reformation! Can you expect to form men into truly noble characters, by filling their souls with fearful solicitude about their per sonal security? Is riot magnanimity, or the dispo sition of self-sacrifice, the very heart and substance of the Christian Life, as Christ has exemplified it ? And you, with all the devotees of your church, are hoping to foster such lives throughout the world of mankind, by appealing to whatever selfishness there is in them, by continually stimulating self- interest with alternate hopes and fears, and by holding out stupendous personal considerations as the motive power of all their endeavors ! .... Alas ! my dear aunt, do you not see that the morality of your theology is as revolting as its bodily lineaments? .... Is it possible that you have ever looked at it with the discriminating can dor you are accustomed to exercise when surveying objects that are not obscured by any haze of imag inary sacredness? My very great respect for you forbids me to think that you can ever have become conscious of the enormities of the faith to which you profess devotion ; for how can the 9* 202 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. affectionate wife and tender mother such as you are proved to be acquiesce in the horrible in humanities of the popular creed, after having distinctly beheld and realized them? I am the more persuaded that you have not realized the badness of your theology, by the fact that it gives you so little comparative uneasiness. True, you express a generous concern for my spir itual condition ; but can you need to be reminded that you have sons and daughters, living at an age when temptation is most potent and most fatal when the allurements of the world are all but irre sistible, and exuberant passion is prone to set all the terrors of the church at defiance? Your appa rent unconcern for the spiritual fortunes of those so near and dear to you, leads me to think that your faith may be a mere traditional assent, rather than a conscious verity It is so with most of those who profess adherence to the popular faith. They are incredibly comfortable under the frightful possibilities which the church reveals. They barter and seek pleasure on the verge of hell-fire, and drop into peaceful slumber while the pulpit is uttering the premonitory note of the judgment trump ! Do these signs indicate that your merciless the- THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 203 ology is becoming effete ? That its once lusty terrors, like the bugbears of our childhood, have ceased to alarm the self-relying reason and medita tive heart of our maturer humanity ? And that a better dispensation even that of perfect love and harmonious truth is about to reconcile and glorify the world? This is my trust; and,"in the tranquil peace which it sheds over my heart, and in the auroral light with which it invests all the works of God, I bid you an affectionate adieu. 204 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. LETTER TWENTY-THIRD. IN WHICH MR. TRAP CONFESSES TO HAVING VISITED AMELIA AGAIN, AND DESCRIBES HER LAST INTERVIEW WITH CHAT- TERTON. A FEW days since, being in the City, I could do no less than ride up to the palace and see Amelia. A note from her hand received the preceding week, had prepared me to find her in reduced health ; but I was not prepared for the wasted and haggard image that met me in her once beautiful person ! Ah, Frank, you would not have recognized her! The form that adorns your chamber of imagery the high and regal presence that stands in its glory, in the far perspective of memory the magnificent charms that kindled an hundred hearts, that fatal summer, on the silver beach of Lynn you would look in vain for these in the dead-hearted, hopeless victim, immured from humanity and from God, in Belshazzar s Golden Cage. I have mourned at what are called untimely deaths I have murmured when some fair girl budding into womanly grace, and ripening for the THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 205 sweet offices appointed her by the Creator has been snatched away as by envious and arbitrary Fate; I have thought gloomily on the Providence that has left the Widow to her weeds, and mingled the cup of the Orphan with wrong ; I have, in my impatience, questioned the decree that removed Manhood in its vigor, and Virtue in its successful conflict, from a race that lean so dependently upon both. But in Amelia I see one of the anomalies of UNTIMELY LIFE, an existence organized in a world for which it has no sympathy a lifeless soul, a palsied conscience in a living body a paralysis of hope and ambition and desire! Surely, those who live without an object, a desire, or an affection, have quite as inscrutable a fate, as those who die amid the blossoms of promise, or in the crisis of conflict. Amelia, at first, forebore all reference to the exciting events which had occurred a few months before, but did not effect to hide the misery that is surely wearing away her life. At five o clock, which is the dinner hour at the palace, Belshazzar came in from the City. He greeted me in no very cordial style ; but I had long since accustomed myself to the incivilities of my Israelite, and was not at all disconcerted by his 206 THE TANGLETOWN LETTEES. manners. Still, after we had taken seats at the table, it struck me that there was an excess of ex citement about the man, which indicated a far more serious irritation than my humble presence could occasion. His movements were abrupt and tremu lous; a fitful ferocity darted from his cold, suspi cious eyes; and he stole occasional glances at Amelia, the import of which by no means pleased me. I had noticed, too, that one of his arms was bandaged, and that a recent scratch was scored upon his face ; and the more I thought upon the matter, the more probable it seemed to me that an explanation he had given of these injuries was not the true one that they really betokened something more serious than had appeared. Nor was Amelia unobservant of these appear ances. I saw that she scrutinized her husband with an anxious brow, while she more than once placed her hand upon her heart as if to stifle sud den pain. All in all, as you may imagine, it was a dreary and troubled meal. We had no soonof risen from the table, than Belshazzar abruptly withdrew, and I thanked my stars that he had not lingered; for, scarcely had he passed the outer border of the park, when a note was placed in Amelia s hand. She recognized the THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 207 hand-writing at a glance. It apparently stirred the deepest emotions. Her face and neck were instantly suffused as I had seen them once before and her whole frame grew tremulous. Suddenly she stood up, and, making a strong effort to command herself, approached me and said : "Mr. Trap, I bless God that you are here. I need not shrink from reposing any confidence in you. This note is from Chatterton! They have met to-day, and violence has been employed Thank heaven it resulted no worse ! " " Thank heaven ! " repeated I. " Now I am going to do that for which you may condemn me," resumed Amelia, " and I ask your cooperation. Chatterton will be at the foot of the terrace, at twilight; and he entreats me to meet him there. He was once my esteemed friend, and for the sake of the feeling I once had for him " she paused, and, with difficulty, suppressed a sob "I shall grant his request; especially as you will witness the interview. He has important explana tions to make ; and it will be the last time we shall ever meet, in this world." Saying which, she sank to the ground, and wept without restraint. Whatever objections I may have felt to this 208 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. interview and I acknowledge I was not at peace with myself concerning it it was impossible for me to oppose a purpose thus supported. Just as the twilight began to gather, I supported Amelia down the terrace, which as I have before observed extends quite to the river itself. It was one of those chill March evenings, w T hen the atmosphere oppresses the most buoyant spirits. The water murmured hoarse and drear on the naked shore, and a sense of desolation pervaded every object that met the eye. The sound of oars broke the monotony of the sobbing tide, and a boat grated upon the sand, in a sheltered spot, just as we reached the extremity of the terrace. I had scarcely time to retire a few yards from the scene, when Chatterton threw him self at the feet of Amelia, in a passion of thankful ness, repentance, affection, and despair. Oh, human love! how blessed thou art, when sanctified of God, and experienced in the hallowed smile of virtue. But all the fiends are merciful compared with thy retributive curse, when thou THE TANGLETOWN LETTEES. 209 art evoked in the bosom of Guilt, or called to break the sacred sanction that guards the meanest home ! It was over, at length. I bore the sobbing woman from the spot. What a burden of human wretchedness it was ! Twice she stopped ; and, leaning tremulously on my arm, looked back through the barren branches that lined the walk, to where the motionless figure of Chatterton stood on the dreary beach, like a wreck of Fate, leffc there to petrify in cold and darkness. Twice, some irresistible impulse seemed to possess her, and she appeared in the very act of rushing back to comfort him, or share his doom. Twice, she murmured, as from the very depths of her breaking heart, "Never again! never again on earth to meet him, or see his face, or hear him speak my name ! Oh, Grod ! and must I thank Thee for such a life?" Before I left the palace, Amelia placed an old portfolio in my hand, that I might see, she said, how she had amused some of her lonely hours. 210 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. I find it to contain isolated reflections mostly of a sombre cast and a few fugitive sketches of Society, mainly in an unfinished state. There is one paper, however, that appears to be complete ; and, embodying as it does a good deal of caustic satire on the genteel society in which it has been her lot to move, has a peculiar interest for all who have known her. Being confident that its perusal will gratify you, I herewith enclose it. THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 211 THE ENTERPRISING EDITOR BEGS leave to interpose a page of his own, at this juncture, for the purpose of endowing his reader with the following opinion: The tale here ascribed to Amelia though for the most part narrated with more sparkling vivacity than Mr. Trap has exhib ited in his acknowledged writings bears, never theless, strong "internal evidence" of having been coined at the Tangletown mint. This remark is peculiarly applicable to the con cluding part of the story, where the baffled and buffeted heroine is represented as seeking the ref uge of Religion, and finding peace in its offices and consolations a consummation naturally suggested to a person of Mr. Trap s devout temper, but not at all likely to occur to so worldly a personage as Amelia. While, therefore, we do not gainsay Mr. Trap s statement far enough to assert that he wrote the whole story, we do maintain, with all the authority of our editorial function, that he must have had " a 212 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. finger in the pie" and in the most savory portions of it, too. But we forbear any extended argument trust ing that the astute reader would sooner give in to our view of the matter at once, than be held back any longer from the story, and from the edification of its powerful moral. THK TANQLETOWN LETTERS. 213 THE VICISSITUDES OF A PORCELAIN PERSON. FOUND IN AMELIA S PORTFOLIO. "TiiAT child is born to a destiny you may take my word for it." So said the child s aunt, Mrs. Volumnia Stilts, as she pointed her long, prophetic finger at the half- conscious innocent, some two hours after its advent into Puckerdom Square. Mrs. Stilts like all respectable oracles who have a care for their reputation had made her prediction a little ambiguous ; but there was no person into whose ears it entered, but that under stood it as a promise that the new-born heir should possess the best and the grandest things this world can afford. The prediction made its impression, for Mrs Stilts, ugly, proud, and hard as utter world- liness can make a human creature was famous for a certain subtlety of wisdom, which had more of the serpent than the dove in its composition ; and, moreover, the present circumstances of the child warranted the loftiest anticipations, that is, 214 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. if wealth and privilege, and human favor and power, may be thought to justify high hopes for a mortal under God s inscrutable providence. The prediction was proudly cherished by all the kin dred circle that condescended to shine on the world from the elevation of Puckerdom Square ; and it grew, faster than its darling object, around whose favored head it may be said to have formed a halo of perpetual promise, and took more alluring shapes than the historian could describe in many pages. And so little Honoria Turk was established in this world, under an auroral blaze of patrician promise, and spontaneously took that air of self- assured superiority natural to those who expect to bend men and fate to their wishes. That she grew up with haughty manners, and a proud heart, and a temper violent and exacting, is no more than the discerning reader will have anticipated. That she was conscious of no interest in any mortal but her self that she felt a dignified contempt for all the common herd of humanity, whose sultry destiny was being wrought out in toil and tears, far below the marble front of Puckerdom Square, that she cherished a dim, weak thought of being herself the ultimate object for whom the goodly eatth yielded THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 215 its beauty and its wealth, that, in a word, all her dreams, aspirations, and endeavors if indeed she were ever conscious of such things were but the restless suggestions and dilations of her plethoric vanity, all this is probable enough. She was carefully educated for her supposed destiny ; in all accomplishments that were brilliant and super ficial in all opinions that were pleasing and false in all customs that were popular and bad she acquired a distinguished proficiency. She had countless wealth to lavish on her caprices, unmiti gated folly to foster her conceit and, most fatal gift of all radiant beauty to sanction the tyranny of her will. What more could be done to insure the ruin of a fellow-being ? One day it was about a year before she was permitted to shine on the world of fashion in the full splendor of her perfections quite a startling incident happened to our heroine. In the august Turk family, had resided, for the last few months, Honoria s cousin, Mark Holland, a handsome, ambitious, orphan youth, who relied .upon his uncle s present bounty for daily bread, and on the future achievements of his pencil for re nown. Mark was two years older than his cousin, with a heart as full of romance and passion as his 216 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. brain was of the timber whereof air-castles are built. The unsophisticated young man had no defence against the fatal charms that flashed upon him day after day, from the royal person of Honoria. He was shot through and through, every time his eyes met her conquering glances, and he felt that sooner or later he must sue for mercy. Mark, with the infatuation of a doomed spirit, had begged the honor of painting her portrait ; and she had sat to him ; and he had lingered on the delicious task, saturating himself with the sense of her beauty, and anticipating heaven knows what impossible felicities, until his intoxicated reason swam in a delirium of love and madness. He knelt at her feet, and declared his honest passion and his daring hope. Honoria beheld his attitude of adoration, and heard his protestations of love, without resent ment, almost without a blush. What was it but a reasonable tribute to her invincible beauty ? What was it but an earnest of those unlimited conquests, of that boundless adulation, for which she was created? She looked down upon him and smiled; for was it not a pleasant thing to see so handsome a youth at her feet, to see, in the passionate brightness of his countenance, to he^^in the THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 217 tremulous fervor of his voice, the evidence of his sincerity to mark in his genius, his gentle per ceptions, his devotion, and his manly frankness, the worth of the victim about to be immolated ? She smiled, and when he snatched her hands and covered them with passionate caresses, she regarded him with momentary tenderness, and he poor betrayed fool ! But the delusion was soon dispelled. "There, that will do," she said smiling on him still ; " you could n t help it, I dare say ; but do n t be ridiculous any more. They say I m to marry a prince, Mark, or something of that sort, d ye see ? and have dukes and knights waiting in my ante rooms " He did not hear her through ; he was gone, and with such a look ! That evening his place at the tea-table was vacant ; she noticed a cloud on her father s brow ; she saw her mother and aunt Volumriia exchange glances of subtle meaning ; she felt a momentary sensation it might be of shame; but she saw Mark Holland handsome Mark, as she sometimes thought of him no more in Puckerdom Square. It werjMiperfluous to dwell upon the sensation created l^^the entrance of this peerless maiden 10 218 THE TANGLETOWN LETTEKS. into the world of fashion. The probation of girl hood over, she mounted into that sanctified sphere, and found none to question her supremacy. All those faultless personages that form its pure soci ety at least all of the masculine gender re ceived her with acclamation, and with worship that might spoil a saint, (were saints ever wor shipped in that place.) I will not lavish ink, and exhaust rhetoric in the vain effort to describe her triumphal course. I dare not, for the sake of my reputation for veracity, undertake to say how many offers of marriage she received, or much less to number her lovers. Could it be known how many sighs were lavished at her feet, what languishing glances were leveled at her across the vacant air, what eloquent rhymes were coined to the praise of her cruel beauty, what poignant jealousies \vere endured by half-distracted rivals, and how gallant men risked the perils of a duel for the honor of handing her to her carriage I doubt not that the interest of the most stoical reader would be enlisted in her fair fortunes. But Miss Honoria Turk was too sensible a woman to covet a husband, and enter with him into the comparative obscurity of domestic lifojghile she could enrapture a new lover and drivcPIW old one "be Triumphal Career of Misa Hcnoria Turk: P 218- THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 219 to despair every week, and thus pursue a career of unlimited glory. And, besides, the nameless demi- god, by an alliance with whom she was to realize the prediction of Mrs. Volumnia Stilts, had not yet bent at her feet. To confess the truth, among all her devoted admirers, there was not a man whom she did not in her heart despise and, doubtless, for justifiable reasons. They were sadly poor in the element of manliness, and probably could not have produced virtue enough, by a joint- stock effort, to have merited the love of any woman out of perdition. So our heroine went through her first fashionable campaign with skirmishing enough, to be sure but without any decisive action. Aunt Volumnia said, " It is well. Honoria is too young yet. But it will not be prudent to pass the chances of another season. Beauty is fleeting, and men are fickle. We shall have a competitor by and by, and we must make our hay while the sun shines." And the words of the oracle were wise words. Our heroine resumed her meritorious career of conquestthe following summer, at Nahant. The fame o^^^tachievements the past winter, had pre ceded nS^nid in the drawing-room at Drew s, and 220 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS on the spacious, beach of Lynn, the proud beauty reigned without a rival. Everywhere her course was marked by the frown of envious women, and the sighs of captive men. The charms of Cleo patra were not more despotic, more intoxicating, or scarcely more fatal. Many a foolish Antony, flee ing thither from his Actium fight, willingly re signed his Roman sceptre the Caesar-throne of manly ambition for the fleeting honor of clasping that tyrannic form in the harmless luxury of the waltz. Oh, consider her glory, and emulate her aspirations, all ye daughters of men! Why did Nature make you fair and winsome, but that the sense of your beauty might make you proud that pride might generate cruelty and insincerity that you might sacrifice the heart and honor with which God endowed you, to your exacting selfishness and wanton vanity and that you might exhaust the sap of life ere yet the fullness of the summer were come, and bring only withered stalks to the autumn garners, where angels gather the good fruit of this world ! At last, among the rout of fashionables, who had conspired at Drew s to kill the^iree hot months, appeared one who really in^^Ked the ambition of Honoria Turk. He was aiHRnber of THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. the Cabinet, recreating from the toils and intrigues of statesmanship, a man on the hopeful side of life s prime, and one who promised to reach the summit of political distinction. His personal qualities were sufficiently engaging to insure him toleration, even from a belle, while his social posi tion and political prospects were such as to raise him far above the tribe of admirers, already dang ling about her person. The victorious Honoria, w r ith her usual good sense, abandoned her late conquests, and laid siege to the heart of the Hon. Mr. Windfall. Nobody was surprised w r hen, in the course of a week, the statesman was found to have surrendered to the irresistible charmer. His society was monopolized at once by the absorbing syren, and the less fortu nate beauties took what satisfaction they could in teasing the rest of the beaux, thus hopelessly cut off from the felicity of Honoria s favor. Now let all maidenhood envy the success of our peerless heroine ! A great man has submitted to the spell of her beauty. Behold, she leads him in silken fetters, and tajfcesweet attraction of a voice full of mu sic, and eyes beaming with tenderness. They ride to and fro along the ocean strand, and murmur 222 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. melodies of affection to the swelling sub-base of the waves. They stand in the hush of night, on the rocky promontory jutting sea- ward from the hotel, and listen to the dreamy strains floating out from the portico where the band plays, and watch the beacon lights that dimly beam across the bay, and talk of music and light of the infinite sea and the infinite heaven and so hint and interpret the sweet sensations that sway them. Most fortunate Honoria! The fruition of her hopes draweth nigh. She will marry this man of power. At Washington, as the wife of a great statesman, she will become the central figure of the Republican Court. Her husband will be appointed minister to London or Paris; she will dazzle all the European capitals, and make kings long to share their thrones with her. His growing popularity will place her husband in the chair of the Presidency, and then what higher honors heaven may vouchsafe her, the adventurous fancy can not discover. Aunt Volumnia whose hard, wise vigilance never slumbers during this critical season grows fierce with the wear and tear of secrd^^dety, but appears daily on the balcony, amid the flut tering beauties there assembled, with more THE TAKGLETOWN LETTERS. 223 more haughty air, as the sign of her prevailing assurance. Meantime, Honoria has secured the further distinction of being hated above all the hatred ever before nourished in that aristocratic hotel. Jealousy, disappointed hopes, and shameful cha grin rankle in the breasts of both sexes in the hearts of exquisite young dandies and slimy rakes, whom she has spurned and forgotten, and in those of ambitious girls and anxious mothers, whom she passed with that detestable smile of conscious superiority. spirits of Pandemonium! With what stifled rage, and Constrained courtesies, and murderous wishes they note her progress. With what delightful unanimity they combine to traduce her. With what diabolical lies they try to taint her fame. If poisoning were not a superannuated trick, I would advise her to drink no coffee or wine, for some weeks hence. -morning, the Hon. Mr. Windfall was luiving a confidential talk with his friend, Col. Triphammer, a veteran just home from Mexico. 224 THE TAXGLETOWX LETTERS. "You don t seem to congratulate me, as I had expected, Colonel," observed the statesman. "I do n t think it a fit occasion for congratula tion," returned the weather-beaten officer, bluntly. " You amaze me by saying so ; pray explain." " I dare say I shall offend you, if I do ; but, frankly then, I do n t share your admiration of this girl." "I trust you do not; for in that case, mutual jealousy would make us mortal enemies." The soldier shrugged his shoulders, and pres ently resumed : "You had better not be hasty in this business, you are not engaged?" "Almost as good, I trust ; in spirit we are." "Then content yourself with the spirit, yet awhile, and beware of proceeding to the letter, till you know more." " Till I know more ! " " Even so ; you may be deceived concerning this paragon of a beauty. Now, don t bridle, in that fashion, at my plain speaking, but hear me. I have seen something of the world, as you will per haps grant, and you used to flatter me with the opinion that I was a tolerable judge of^^fcacter. Well, taking my observation and judgment for , THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 225 what they are worth, I pronounce this Miss Turk to be beautiful, proud, selfish, and incapable of the disinterested affection which every man desires to receive in a wife. There, I knew I should anger you ; but you have my opinion." " Colonel, you have wronged one of the noblest of her sex." " Spoken like a lover; but if you havn t the use of your natural sight, as I profess to have of mine, at least wait; don t commit yourself further, just at present." " But I return to Washington next week." "Postpone your return; plead illness aberra tion of mind anything; I ll be your voucher for any infirmity you may lay claim to ! " " Your kindness is most flattering." " Stay ; your sister comes to-morrow ? " " I believe so." "Promise not to inform Miss Turk when she arrives, promise me to say nothing about your relationship, for a day or so." "Impossible; they must know each other imme diately." Where s the necessity of it ? You fashionables, for the wont of something better to do, are always contriving innocent little surprises for each other. 1 0* 226 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. This will be but an instance of them. Besides, if you refuse, you miss a first-rate opportunity of getting the scales torn from your eyes." " Confound you for a plotting enemy of female innocence ! I will think of your scheme." The next day our Honoria was permitted to overhear a pleasant conversation between Miss Gimp, of Bubbleton, and Miss Skimmertop, of Scandalburgh. " Who is that girl who arrived this morning in Major White s carriage?" inquired Miss Gimp. "Ah, that fascinating creature whom Mr. Wind fall received so ardently ? " " The same ; she seems an old acquaintance of his." "Better still, an old lover, if report speaks true." " Indeed ! what can send the poor thing here at such a time." "Heaven knows; I think she is to be pitied. But for mercy s sake, do n t mention what I am telling you." "Oh, on no account; but don t you think he retains some liking for her yet?" THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 227 "I should think so, I declare: didn t you see him kiss her when he lifted her from the carriage ? " " To be sure. And would n t it be fine if the old love should outwit the new one, after all?" " Stranger things than that happens ; though it s my opinion that he ll marry Miss Turk, even if he retains part of his heart for the other one." "You think so?" "Yes, Miss Turk has wealth, which a public man may use to great advantage ; she has beauty and accomplishments to adorn a statesman s home, and give a kind of eclat to his career. She might help his ambition in many ways. And, as regards the other, it would be strange if one in Windfall s position could not find means to console her, especially when we consider in what slight esteem these great men commonly hold the decalogue." "And you really think this wretched girl this pretty brazen-face would covet his love on such terms?" "There is scarcely any room to doubt it; I have heard all about her this morning, and you may de pend that she would take the most menial office in his household for a fraction of his heart." "Well good heavens! I trust your surmises may not i. iret Miss Turk s ears, else she might, 228 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. somehow, consider herself insulted, when she comes to have this fair stranger presented." "Yes, for goodness sake, let it be kept from her; we shall see them meet, in the most sisterly manner, presently." ******** ******** 0, wicked conspirators ! inspired of Satan, and impelled, by all the malignity of envy, to becloud the golden aurora of the most peerless of belles! Ask me not to lead you into the seclusion of that chamber, whither the wrathful steps of our abused Honoria conduct her, and where pacing the room by the impulse of ever-maddening pas sion she clenches her little hands, stamps the unconscious floor as though she were crushing vipers, shakes down the wavy masses of her shin ing hair, and flashes lightning from the troubled depths of her dark eyes. Look not upon her there, raving in the pitiful insanity of impotent anger, writhing under the sense of wrong, disap pointment, and humiliation, and sobbing on her couch, at last, in utter helplessness of woe. Unfortunately for our heroine, aunt Volumnia is absent to-dtiy, and p;i|a and mamma, remain at THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 229 Puckerdom Square ; and so, in the absence of all friendly counsel, our resentful fair one must follow her own devices. The dinner-table at Drew s shall not be graced by her beauty to-day. The report of her indispo sition, which is published to excuse her absence, saddens the heart of the waiting lover. He sends messages of tender inquiry to her chamber, which are answered in a style of laconic distinctness, somewhat puzzling to the statesman s notions of courtesy. Meantime, Honoria, possessed by the demon of Folly, has been questioning her maid concerning Mr. Windfall s demeanor toward his newly-arrived friend has even encouraged her to watch them, and report discoveries; and active Nancy nowise averse to this honorable business reports enough to confirm all the revolting suspicions that seem destined to tear her heart asunder. But our peerless belle shall not be found want ing in resolution, after all. Hers is not the ignoble spirit that bows to insult without resistance. If glances can paralyze if words can wither then let those who have wronged her abide her presence, if they dare. Toward evening, girded in all her pride, and 230 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. invested with all the splendor of her beauty, she appears on the balcony, among the loitering groups that are listlessly watching the sun as it fades across the water. They are here. See, at the end of the balcony ; he is pointing out to her some ob- ject far seaward, with that dignified gesture and kindly glance, which seemed, only yesterday, so becoming and so noble; and she, leaning so famil iarly on his arm, receives the instruction with a smile of affection and pride. Hold fast that bounding heart, imperious girl ! for see ! they have turned they discover you they exchange a word and a smile and they approach. There! let all who revere the shade of Juno, admire the intrepid scorn with which our queen of Beauty meets them face to face; appalls that impudent interloper with a single vision of her lurid brow, and bears off the confounded statesman, as in a flash of lightning ! "Miss Turk! Honoria! what is the meaning of this?" exclaimed Windfall, as soon as he could command speech. They were standing alone, in one of the passages. Honoria answered first by a hoarse laugh. "You were actually going to present her?" "Most certainly, I was." THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 231 "And to me?" " Yes, to you; and wherefore should I not? Will you have the condescension to explain yourself, Miss Turk?" And his brow grew dark as hers, and his glance almost as fierce. " You have the impudence to ask why you should not present that woman to me ! Then, sir, let me tell you: she squints, she is lame she can neither see well nor walk gracefully! In a word, she shall never be an associate of mine, so help me Heaven ! " Windfall cast her hand off his arm, and recoiled, as he might from a wild beast. He was pale, even to the lips, as he answered : "Whence came this unhappy spirit of error and demonry, I know not; but it must be too mighty for my exorcism, since it can transform what I had fancied to be an angel of light into such an one as this. I pardon you the inexplicable folly of this hatred you evince toward my sister, and she will join me in praying that one so fair may be saved from an infirmity so monstrous. Farewell." And with this parliamentary address, the states man-lover went his way ; while she crushed with shame, and the thought of his just anger, con- 232 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. tempt, and pity crept to her room, like one in utter darkness moaning under her breath. "His sister! she is his sister, then; and I have scorned her as his paramour! 0, God! that I might die! " I linger riot to tell all that my hapless heroine suffered, with the most magnificent of air-castles thus suddenly tumbled into ruin about her head. Whosoever is blessed with sensibility may feel how bitter must have been her disappointment and vain repentance. Impetuous readers may suppose that she called down maledictions upon that gossiping pair, whose artful lies had betrayed her into this folly; but on this point I affirm nothing. That she thought of asking for an interview with Wind fall, that she might explain her fatal error, and so recover some fraction of his esteem that pride and shame forbade this step until his departure, which occurred the following morning, rendered it impracticable that Aunt Volumnia was furious for many weeks at the calamitous issue of the summer flirtation, while the scandal-mongers at Drew s celebrated the downfall of their enemy with boisterous glee and that poor Honoria fled from the sea-beaten peninsula long before the Sep tember winds began to wake, and had a six-weeks THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 233 battle with fever in Puckerdom Square is all, perhaps, that the reader will care to know con cerning this unhappy period. Great natures, as moralists tell us, do not suc cumb to misfortune without a becoming struggle. They are elastic, recuperative, persistent, and have a salutary faith in themselves, or in their natal stars. So it was with that most august maiden, whose mournful fortunes I am attempting to chron icle. Should she lose faith in her destiny, and the world mourn the premature withdrawal of her radiant presence, because of a single defeat? Should the pusillanimous tribe that had envied, feared, and maligned her, be permitted to triumph by her overthrow? No; forbid it, all ye friends arid champions of injured Beauty. Forbid it, all ye cunningly masked fiends that minister at the shrine of Pride. Forbid it, all ye withered gob lins of Despair, that haunt the borders of life s race-course with wailing and gnashing of teeth. Behold, then, as the winter gayeties revive, an ominous sensation in Puckerdom Square ! And, just as the world of Fashion blooms out in richest 234 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. colors with all its singing birds screaming the jubilant chorus of "Eat and drink, for to-morrow you die!" our dauntless Honoria sweeps into the circle, brightest and most jubilant of all. In vain shall Envy and Calumny fight against the Phoenix, rising from the ashes of humiliation more resplendent than before. "Women may pout and rage, but men will worship her still. She might almost walk from the evening rout to her own chamber on a macadamized road of abject lovers necks. Nor shall she shed the lustre of her charms on mediocre dandies alone. An illustrious conquest none other than an exiled prince, just on the eve of recovering his lost dominions attests the om nipotence of her beauty. With the most engaging French accent, and a chivalrous devotion that could have been inherited only from Bayard him self w ith infinite eccentricities of dress, and the most amazing dramatic attitudes, he evinces the consuming passion with which she has inspired him. All plebeian-born rivals retire before the incomparable prince, in whose rich veins flows the Bourbon blood ; and Honoria is not displeased to have her charms monopolized by one who promises to realize all the dreams of her ambition. THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 235 And now behold a castler, built of none of the mean materials of mere republican greatness, but fashioned out of the choicest elements of heredi tary aristocracy and kingly privilege. Out of the depths of her subtle and vivid fancy, it rises against the peaceful sky of the Future so am ple, magnificent, and strong, that it may defy the whirlwinds and earthquakes to shake it from its base. In the intoxicating assurance of coming honors, and in the genial company of Prince Bourbon, how the light-footed hours, like pleasure-laden nymphs, glide b} For our Honoria there are no leaden days or anxious nights no doubts to cloud the bright illusions of Hope no fears, born of gentle modesty, to sober the wildness of desire. The prize which gracious Fortune stoops to offer her though glorious enough to satisfy her exacting ambition does not so far transcend the measure of her deserts as to inspire any self-distrust, or suspicion of its insecurity. Prince Bourbon has assured her, in his florid style, that perfections such as she can boast would shed lustre upon any throne in Christendom, and she is happy enough to agree with him deeming that the dignity which 236 THE TAXGLETOWN LETTERS. awaits her is but the appointed fulfillment of her august destiny. The world of Fashion seems to endorse this high estimate of her importance. Her name rings through all the jubilant circles. Her career is an inexhaustible subject of remark in high places. The genteel newspapers compliment her in the most graceful paragraphs. And at last it is an nounced far and wide to the awaiting universe, that the great event is on the eve of transpiring the event that is to transfer one who has been the pride and glory of American Society, to the protection of a prince and the merited honors of sovereignty. It may occur to the interested reader to inquire, "Does she actually love Prince Bourbon, then? and had she loved Windfall?" I answer, most reluctantly, that love as we are prone to conceive the passion in connexion with youth and hope was utterly unkno\vn to the heart of our Honoria. She was above the weakness of loving any man for his own sake. She loved admiration, honors, and power, with an intensity that absorbed her whole being, and the man who could insure her these, in the amplest measure, might receive a certain haughty gratitude which many a mortal accepts as the promise of coming affection. For THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 237 the sake, then, of the unspeakable privileges asso ciated with him, we may suppose that Prince Bourbon had grown precious in the sight of our royal belle that her creative fancy had invested him with attributes invisible to others and that the position he occupied, and her growing relations towards him, had kindled a delusive halo around his hairy physiognomy that made him seem as noble as the first Caesar. And did never the suspicion intrude itself, that his devotion might be as mercenary as her accept ance of him? Candidly, I believe that she had never questioned his avowed motive, for was not she, in all the springing affluence of her beauty, and apart from any ulterior ends, worthy to enlist the homage of a king? It w T as only a week to the appointed nuptials, when fell the unconsidered blow. For days and days there had been ominous whispers in State street counting-rooms. Anxious faces of princely merchants had grown more anxious hour by hour. And nowhere lowered the coming storm more 238 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. densely than over the luxurious homes in Pucker- dom Square. Rich Israel Turk father of our queen of Beauty secretly winces and groans be fore the impending blast. Yet utters he not a word of his apprehension of his terrible con viction to those vain, frail ones unconsciously entering the vortex. They notice his abstraction, his want of rest, his haggard eye ; but the ap proaching marriage, to which he has never given his cordial assent, leads them to misjudge the cause. Already the crash of that great fortune that crystal palace, reared by the combined industry and enterprise of three generations has sounded through the city. But still they chatter and smile, and dream and rejoice, in Puckerdom Square, knowing nothing of the doom that hovers over them with its cruel eye. Our exalted Honoria occupies her boudoir, sur veying her castle, of which she obtains daily some more enchanting prospect. The pleasantness of her reverie is revealed by a half-formed smile, com placent as a god s. Can we trace the current of her thoughts, or define the soft bloom of feeling that rustles in her virgin heart? Does she think, THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 239 with a mellow regret, of the home she is now to leave? with loving gratitude, of the faithful beings who have cherished her here ? with awe and hu mility of that Infinite Providence out of whose bosom she came and under whose awful equity she lives and is judged? Does she question why it is that men and nature conspire to pamper her self- love, and her wildest desires, while they laugh at the ambition of others, and smite their presump tion with shame? Does she ask by what inscruta ble equity her path of life has been laid through vernal blooms and palace halls; while the pale girl, who stared up at her window, yesterday, with such a pleading grief born into this world the self-same instant must walk the howling waste alone, and never see God s love in the pitying eye of man? Let her dream, poor fallen favorite of capricious Fate ; bankrupt in all but the illusions of this hour ! Let her dream, and let mercy forbid her to wake to the sense of that which she has neither grace nor virtue to meet. It is Aunt Volumnia that enters ghostly bird of Evil! flutters to the feet of her idol, and croaks the dismal news. 240 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. Honoria staggers to the wall, and her rich blood, obeying the mighty shock, rushes from the marble face it need beautify no more. Ruin! beggary! desertion! suicide! all in one fell swoop ! it can not be ! " And yet it is : and here is proof of the worst : They have found the corpse of the old man who had not the courage to survive his riches. And here is a farewell note from Prince Bourbon, worded in the politest terms that chivalry can frame, bewail ing the postponement of his restoration to the crown, and the cruel necessity that must part him from the most adorable of women. After the date of this great calamity, our heroine sinks into such unmerited obscurity that it is difficult to ascertain her fortunes. She seems to have shrunk from the eyes of the world, conscious that she could never regain any portion of that intoxicating admiration she had once enjoyed. And very sad it is to think how soon she was forgotten by all the false-hearted tribe who had THE TANGLETOWX LETTERS. 241 worshipped her. While her heart was breaking, and her beauty wasting, in hopeless poverty and exacting toil, they were dangling around a new favorite, and enacting the very homage that had intoxicated her own fancy. Of all those whom she had known in her day of wealth and pride, one being only had pity on her desolation, and extended to her the helping hand of Christian charity. Nor was it without many a struggle with vain pride, and the sense of humil iation, that poor Honoria was induced to accept favors of handsome Mark Holland now an artist of high celebrity and ample means. By degrees, however, under the grievous discipline of her strange lot, better feelings and wiser thoughts ob tained an influence in her nature, and partially reconciled her to the inevitable condition. Grad ually she accustomed herself to enter her cousin s home, to receive kindness from his happy wife, to caress the little child that had received her name perhaps to pray in secret that its destiny might not be like hers. And when, in the course of years, the grace of her Heavenly Father had so wrought in her soul that pride and the fear of man no longer deterred her, she grew accustomed to seek, each Sabbath 11 242 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. day, one of the humblest of the city chapels, there to blend her prayers and confessions with the poor in spirit. Thus was she made acquainted with the kindred bonds and reciprocal offices that unite the hearts of men in the Gospel of Peace. Thus did she learn to sympathize with the griefs and cares of all humanity, and find in ministries of mercy to the suffering, a blessed oblivion for her own regrets and disappointments. THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 243 LETTER TWENTY-FOURTH. MR. TRAP HEARS PHILEMON BLOTUS DILATE ON SPIRITUALISM, AND GIVES US HIS IMPRESSIONS WITH THE MOST ADMIRABLE FRANKNESS, A VERY "INJUDICIOUS" LETTER, WITH NOTH ING TO RECOMMEND IT BUT HONESTY AND COMMON-SENSE. I WAS waited upon to-day by a zealous Spirit ualist, who entreated me to go and hear Philemon Blotus lecture in defence of this new ism. Mr. Blotus has been agitating here in Tangletown above two weeks, having been encouraged by large and enthusiastic audiences, and by the promise, (to his sanguine fancy,) of drawing all our churches into the chaos where he so gloriously flounders. Sooth to say, some of the preachers really tremble lest he may accomplish this incred ible and calamitous feat ! Having the weakness to yield to my zealous neighbor, I went and heard Philemon expatiate. He claimed to be the medium through whom one of the first divines of America long since gathered to his rest uttered his celestial wisdom for the edification of mortal humanity. 244 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. The address related chiefly to the character and occupations of the heavenly state. The introduc tory part consisted of a succession of most pitiful truisms, such as no man could deliver in his normal state, without being scouted as too shallow a driv eller to merit an audience. Yet I saw men of average intelligence sitting in the hall, listening with hungry eagerness to this oracular fellow, and considering, with admirable candor, pompous state ments that no man in his senses could think of controverting! But the main portion of the lec ture was more seriously objectionable. It repre sented our heavenly home as little else than a sensual paradise. It was the Elysium of the classic Mythology, in all its essential features. I was amazed at the impudent misnomer of charac terizing this gross and palpable materialism, by such a term as SPIRITUALISM. One might as well call sensuality self-denial. Yet, people of sluggish natures, of voluptuous temperaments, are delighted with such views. Their ideal of future felicity does not greatly differ from the actual life of an Oriental prince it is made up of boundless indul gence, untroubled ease, soothing music, the aroma of unfading flowers, the genial warmth of an eter nal sunshine. Hence listening to such philoso- THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 245 pliers as Philemon Blotus their senses kindle, their prurient fancies dilate, and they sponta neously exclaim, " How beautiful ! how delicious ! " "The Bible," says Philemon Blotus, "does not prove the Future State ; it was left for Spiritualism to show forth the glorious truth." Poor Philemon ! so unfortunate himself as never to have believed in the spiritual state, he fancies all Christendom immersed in the same darkness. He had better follow in the wake of the Bible through the mod ern centuries, and see with what sentiments men have regarded the Future, with merely its con temned light to guide them. He may find that though the Bible does not prove the Future Life any more than it proves the Divine Existence yet it has contrived to inspire a very general persuasion of the reality of both these ideas ; and that though it has omitted to give us the exact number of the house we are to inhabit in the Celestial City, and neglected to deliver us maps of the Immortal Coun try, generally yet the great mass of mankind are stupid enough to trust their Eternal Father, and to confide in the equity of his arrangements with reference to their future abode! Such an idea of Christian Immortality as these effeminate seers present us! Was it in view of 246 * THE TANGLETOWN LETTEES. such a state that men walked to the flames un daunted, and welcomed the parting agony with psalms? Did the early saints forego even the innocent pleasures of life and much more the sensual seductions that smiled on them out of liber tine Rome, with such a Valhalla of licence and stupid languishment glistening before them in the deeps of Heaven? Surely, if anything could make a reasonable creature disbelieve the Fu ture Life, it would be the association of the hal lowed state with this despicable effeminacy and this heathen materialism. I can not conceive of an average manliness that would not be ashamed of such a tone of life. THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 247 LATER FROM TANGLETOWN. ARRIVAL OF THE FIRE-EATER TRAIN HEALTH OF MR. TRAP- PROGRESS OF DISUNION DR. FIBLONG s POSITION RUMORS OF MRS. HARROWSCRATCH, ETC., ETC., ETC. BY the arrival of the Fire-Eater Express, which reached our city just as we were dressing for our New Year s company, we have advices from Tan- gletown as late as 12 o clock last night. The Fire-Eater made a highly successful run, suffering no accidents or detentions of importance killing only two Irishmen and a drove of pigs, near Pan demonium being off the track only three times in the whole route driving an old woman or two into hysterics and arriving an hour and fifty-nine minutes behind time only. We are pained to learn by private letters from Mr. Timotheus Trap, Esq., that the excellent old gentleman has recently suffered a severe illness, which discerning friends attribute to the pertina city of Peskiewitch, whom some regard as the very prince of bores, and the pith and marrow of an 248 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS idle vagabond. Mr. Trap traces his sickness to an undue excitement engendered by the late election. He confesses to have been possessed by the prepos terous ambition of having two or three honest men elected, on the municipal ticket. This Quixotic idea found little toleration among the patriotic masses of Tangletown, and they rebuked the falla cious hope by the triumphant support at the ballot- box, of all the ripest rogues. Mr. Trap s disap pointment and chagrin in addition to his previous exertions not to mention certain domestic trials into which we are not permitted to penetrate seem to have had a serious effect upon his constitu tion. We are glad to add, however, that he is now convalescent, and may even be adequate to encoun ter roast pork and Congressional debates within a week. We learn further, from Mr. Trap s letters, that dissension still rankles in Mr. Mann s church, to the great grief and misfortune of that upright minister. Rumors of his impending resignation were current when the Fire-Eater left. Dr. Fiblong s popularity seemed on the increase, as was evinced by a tremendous donation visit on Christmas day, and by a recent sermon on the duty of preserving the Union. Some thoughtful per- THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 249 sons have advised that this patriotic divine be sent into the Southern States, for the purpose of search ing out and distinctly classifying the various advan tages of domestic slavery particularly as regards the slaves themselves with a view of correcting the misapprehension, and eradicating the prejudices of northern fanatics. It is understood that several gentlemen of Tangletown celebrated alike for their Christian benevolence and enlightened patri otism are ready to contribute each thirty pieces of silver, in furtherance of this magnanimous object. In looking over a late number of the Tangletown Mirror, we find that Dr. Fiblong has been preach ing a sermon on THE SECRET OF MINISTERIAL SUC CESS. The principal propositions appear to have been, that a preacher should never attack any evil that has acquired political associations, since he thereby becomes amenable to the charge of covertly assail ing the measures of some party with which his friends may be identified ; and that he should never censure any vice known to be practiced by his congrega tion, under penalty of being accused of indulging personalities, and violating the laws of courtesy. We commend these profound propositions to the attentive consideration of the clergy, far and 11* 250 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. near. We suggest whether a more biblical style of sermonizing, and more studious fidelity to the Gospel, would not properly involve an exclusive reference to the sins recorded in Holy Scripture thus permitting our modern and local peccadilloes to go unwhipped. "We infer, from a notice in the Mirror, and from some mysterious allusions in one of Mr. Trap s let ters, that Mrs. Harrowscratch has dawned again upon Tangletown. She appears at present, it should seem, in the character of a "healing me dium," pledging herself to the moderate task of curing "all human maladies, physical and spirit ual." In this beneficent undertaking, she is asso ciated with Charon a nondescript vagabond, against whom we caution all printers and bill posters, all tailors and boot-makers, and the honest part of mankind generally, and whom \ve commend to the vigilance of the proper authorities, he having "no visible means of support." POSTSCRIPT. Since writing the above, we have glanced at the Mirror s criminal column, from which, we learn that Charon has been urgently in vited to the Police Court, and thence conveyed, with high official solicitude, to a snug apartment THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 251 in the jail. For these acts of legal or judicial courtesy, the Longbeard seems to have been in debted to an extra bottle, uncorked some time after midnight, and to an injudicious exercise of the pugilistic function, to the appalling detriment of a pair of convivial noses. So that bright and shining rascal is, at the present writing, we trust, enjoying the salutary influences of solitude quite out of the reach of temptation. THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 253 CONFIDENTIAL NOTE. WE deem it but fair to apprise the reader that some of the gentlemen who figure in the ensuing paper feeling themselves damaged by the Mirror s too graphic report brought a furious prosecution against the luckless editor. This unsophisticated individual confiding in the honesty and accuracy of his reporter at first set the wrath of the Seers at defiance; but, "by due process of law," he be came instructed in that exquisite axiom of legal casuistry which maintains truth to be the worst phase of a libel, and was obliged to pay a round thousand or so for the lesson. The reader will appreciate, therefore, the ex traordinary cost at which this article has been furnished THE TANGLETOWN LETTEKS. 255 THE GREAT MAMMOTIIIC REFORM CONVENTION; WITH PROPOSALS FOB UNHINGING SOCIETY, AND TURNING THE WORLD TOPSY-TURVY. Reported expressly for the Tangletown Mirror, and reprinted therefrom. WE announced some weeks since that a Conven tion was about to be called in this enlightened city for the purpose of initiating a radical change in the Religion, Government and Morality of the civil ized world especially of that favored portion of it over which the genius of American Liberty presides. The Convention accordingly met on Wednesday of the present week. For several days preceding the momentous con vocation, an unusual sensation pervaded our ex pectant community, and the impending revolution was discussed in all its aspects. Some treated the threatened reform with open derision; others were exasperated at the thought of any change in the present order of things, being men well to do in the world, custom-house officers, clergymen with 256 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. fat salaries, apoplectic old gentlemen living upon their interest, drowsy professors crusted over with tough erudition, and such like respectable fry. There were still others who hailed the prospective innovation with a kind of libertine delight as some knaves glory in a midnight conflagration, be cause the general alarm and confusion affords them a rich opportunity for gathering plunder. Among this class we might mention a few fast young men, without the amplest stock of resources a few speculators, laid on their backs, as helpless as tur tles, by the last thundering wave of adversity a swarm of quacks, who had tickled the public cre dulity once too often, and run their impudent tricks into the ground a score or two of lan guishing widows, miserably wanting appreciation, and a round dozen married couples, hoping that some lurch of the social ship might cast them asunder. On Monday and Tuesday our city began to be enlivened by the arrival of innumerable personages of note, whose fame was to give eclat to the Con vention. All the trains that entered the city from the direction of the rising sun, came loaded with distinguished passengers, whose lambent genius had touched every problem of the age if their THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 257 various admirers were to be credited and who, at all events, demeaned themselves with an air which sufficiently bespoke their lofty destinies. The conductors complained that they found it dif ficult to collect fares of this distinguished com pany, which we attribute to the entire pre-occu- pation of their minds with the weighty concerns of reform, and the sublime disdain with which great minds are sometimes known to treat the trivial affairs of business. Among the crowd sauntering about the station to observe the distinguished personages, as they issued from the cars, our reporter noticed our well- known fellow-citizen, TIMOTHEUS TRAP, Esq. The good old gentleman was standing in the midst of a rather murky mass of apple-women and candy- boys having evidently made extensive purchases from both parties and a smile of philosophical composure dwelt upon his countenance, as he sur veyed the streaming host of innovators just ar rived to haul down and reconstruct the edifice of society. Our reporter supposes that Timotheus may be long to a small class of persons not enumerated above, who have not shared in the prevailing ex citement here in Tangletown, having that mysfce- 258 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS rious faith in the general stability of things, which enables them to look with tranquil toleration upon the assembling of this Convention somewhat as they might view the attempt of a few lunatics to pluck down the sun, as, indeed, a mournful sort of enterprise, but one in no sense likely to disturb the solar system. About nine o clock, the Hall began to be filled by the distinguished delegates from the various schools of Reform. The scene soon became ani mated and picturesque. Upon the rostrum sat the remote and prime authors of the Convention male and female in earnest preliminary consul tation. The utmost freedom and originality of costume was observable in this group, and the ob server hesitated in his admiration, being in doubt which he ought to applaud most, the scantiness of dress in one sex, or the superabundance of beard in the other. Around this notable company, were grouped certain secondary lights, who might be said to oc cupy the character of mediators between the seera THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 259 upon the platform, and the neophytes distributed over the lower end of the hall receiving in their own persons the perfect splendor of that recondite wisdom, and transferring it to the weaker brethren in a softened or diluted state. Amidst the motley audience, were many restless and credulous persons, who not being able to find their place in the world under its present adjustment, and not thinking very highly of the plan on which it was contrived were on the alert for the first omens of dissolution, determined to lay hold of the first well-furnished stall that should float within reach of their hungry embrace. The gallery was mainly occupied by truant boys, street vagrants, and growling dogs. The former appeared immeasurably edified by the general spectacle of the assembly, and especially by the deportment of the strong-minded ladies-, arrayed upon the rostrum in all their mental audacity. Indeed, a certain display of enthusiasm on the part of these susceptible lads, proved fatal to the permanency of their enjoyment; for a few dis charges of pea-nuts and small gravel stones into the vicinity of the platform, drew the hot wrath of the seers upon them, and they were ignomini- ously expelled from the hall. 260 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. The meeting was called to order by the right notorious Mr. SPONTANEOUS author of The Grand Flummery arid finally organized by the choice of Mr. BELCHER as Moderator, and the amiable Mr. FLUNKEY as Secretary. (The list of Vice Presi dents, unfortunately, can not be given this morning, without excluding other matter of more vital interest. We find the catalogue to occupy some thing more than half a column, and we think of reserving it for an Extra, to be issued on Saturday, with a new advertisement of Patent Medicines.) Some discussion ensued respecting the propriety of opening the convention with prayer. Mr. SPONTANEOUS was opposed to prayer, in the present unsettled state of opinion among the brethren. Some, he said, believed God to be a, Person, others an Essence, and others still an Electric Force. It was a debatable question whether he was Concrete or Abstract. Some very excellent people a few of whom he rejoiced to see in the hall had not yet made up their minds whether or not there be any God ! For his own part, he believed he had demonstrated in The Grand Flummery, that God is the Pre-Organic Super-Excelsior Principle of Primitive Dynamics, lie felt qualified to maintain that opinion still. THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 261 But he would not impose his views upon others, against their will; and, since there was not a una nimity of opinion in the Convention, as to what God is, he thought it best to venture upon no devo tional performances. Mr. SUBSOIL was also against praying. He bore down upon the practice as a vestige of supersti tion, and ridiculed the idea that there could be any possible utility in it. Mr. D. I. S. SECTION ws^ disposed to join issue with Mr. Spontaneous on his definition of the Deity, but the President discreetly waived the debate, saying that, in his judgment, the difference of views that had been alluded to, turned upon a point of no practical importance ! This decision brought up half a dozen ardent neologists, each of whom had some precious theory of the Deity, to the trivial importance of which he was far from assenting. During the next five minutes, much confusion prevailed in the hall. Scarcely were these gentlemen pacified ere Mrs. Trebblewail attempted to address the Convention. Mrs. Trebblewail is the most ancient of the strong- o minded, angular in feature, dark and keen of glance, shrill and mighty in utterance, and withal, a most persistent orator. Unfortunately, there is 262 THE TAXGLETOWN LETTERS. a prejudice against this redoubtable woman, origi nating in a strange notion of her insanity ; and she rarely advances beyond her exordium, without suffering some provoking interruption. The Mod erator began to hammer his table at the end of her first period. But she went on, looking mad defiance at that dignitary, and trailing her rhetoric through the spaces of the hall, like a bundle of thorn-brush doing the office of a shillalah. She launched into a cutting philippic on the tyranny of man over woman. The Moderator commanded silence. The seers hitched and looked wrathful. The vagrants in the gallery applauded, and the dogs began to bark. It was all in vain. There was but one mode of relief. Two men appa rently familiar with the orator s infirmity, and seeing exactly what must be done took the persistent creature in their arms, and carried her out amid vehement struggling. On motion of Mr. SUBSOIL, a committee was nominated to introduce such business as should seem appropriate to the care of the convention. This occupied the meeting until the time of ad journment. THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 263 In the afternoon, the committee on business introduced a formidable series of resolutions, re flecting rather severely on the Bible, the Church, and the Clergy. These resolutions being nearly as lengthy as the President s Message, we can not lay them before our readers a deprivation to which most of them will easily become reconciled, we doubt not, in view of their exceedingly ultra character. Mr. SUBSOIL as chairman of the business com mittee accompanied the resolutions with a speech of great boldness and perspicuity. The Bible, he said, had been venerated to a ridiculous extent. Men had laid down their com mon sense before it, and become fools. They had accepted its preposterous statements as infallible truth, though they were opposed by Eeason, and disproved by Science. What man in his senses, for instance, could believe that this planet was created in six days? that a woman could be made out of the rib of a man? that the ark contained a copy of all the animal creation? that Joshua arrested the sun in its course? that a man, havino- 1 O been dead three days, could be restored to life? All this was absurd. A book containing such state ments deserved the contempt of rational beings. 284 THE TANGLETOWX LETTERS. It ought to be put down. So long as men retained any faith in it, they would be superstitious, full of illiberal prejudices, and unfavorable to all true re form. For his part, he boldly took the position, that the Bible was the great impediment to human progress ! This address made an obvious sensation. Some few hissed the speaker, but more applauded him. When the noise had somewhat abated, Mr. MEEKERMAN took the stand. He had no sympathy with the resolutions, and he dissented entirely from the last speaker. (Groans, and cries of "hear, hear!") The Bible had never been venerated too much it never could be. Men, however, had been too indiscriminate in their veneration of it. They had been very ignorant of its contents, and had failed to interpret it rationally. They had idolized its verbal form, instead of revering its in terior spirit. (Hear, hear.) Every intelligent be liever in the Bible knew that there was no conflict between its statements, when rightly apprehended, and the truths of any well-established science. Geology and Astronomy had made their peace with Moses long since; and he regretted to find so well-posted a man as Mr. Subsoil still ignorant of the reconciliation. He did not suppose there THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 265 was any thing in uncorrupted Scripture that was opposed to reason, though there was much, doubt less, that transcended the range of any human fac ulty. There were acknowledged interpolations, and errors of translation, which he was not obli gated to defend. The Bible was made up of dif ferent classes of writings such as histories, prophecies, didactic addresses, epistles, poems, allegories, parables arid it demands an interpre tation which shall recognize the peculiarities and limitations of these different forms of composition. In ignoring this fundamental consideration, the last speaker betrayed his utter disqualification for dealing with so serious and complicated a subject. As regarded the gentleman s closing assump tion that the Bible wis the great impediment to human progress Mr. Meekerman would be glad to have the gentleman explain why human pro gress is not a little more conspicuous in Hindostan and Turkey, where the aforesaid impediment scarcely exists? (Applause and sensation.) Mrs. SKEWER had no great opinion of the Bible, notwithstanding Mr. JVJ. s plausible defence of it. She considered the story of woman being made from the rib of man, as not only ridiculous in itself, but as an unjust reflection on the dignity of the 12 266 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. sex, since it implied a certain indebtedness on the part of woman that was humiliating to contem plate. Miss PRUDE thought the Bible formula, which spoke of man and woman as becoming one flesh, exceedingly immodest, and the mark of some shockingly vulgar mind. Mr. MEEKERMAN had scarcely time to quote the text To the pure all things are pure when Mrs. HARROWSCRATCH rose upon the rostrum. The appearance of this renowned reformer was greeted with prolonged applause. The vagrants in the gallery waved their shabby caps, as though their enthusiasm would pass all bounds. Mrs. HARROWSCRATCH directed the shafts of her rhetoric against Paul. He had commanded wives to submit to their husbands ; was that reasonable ? Suppose the husband was a milksop as many husbands were, (she knew of one such in partic ular,) and the wife an angel-hearted creature as wives were apt to be; would it be right then? Suppose the husband intemperate ; was it right to submit to such a beast? Her pure soul revolted at the thought. Again: Paul had written that it is a shame for women to speak in public. These views revealed the character of Paul. He would have THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 267 women submit to the most brutish men, and never open their lips to proclaim their wrongs ? What had the free and enlightened women of the Nine teenth Century to say to such notions? Would they admit them to be inspired? Would they submit to such tyranny and outrage, because the authority that sanctioned it was found in the Bible ? The Bible ! The book was full of woman s degra dation. There, for instance, was an account of a woman who wiped a man s feet with the hairs of her head. She did not remember the names of the parties in the transaction, but it was outrageous. For her part she repudiated the book that sanc tioned such things. (Confusion, hisses, and ap plause.) Mr. SPONTANEOUS now took the platform. It might be thought superfluous, he observed, for him to express his sentiments with regard to that old book. His estimate of it was already widely known. In the first series of his Grand Flummery, he had disclosed its utter lack of authenticity, its manifold inconsistencies and essential shabbiness. It was not necessary, he trusted, to recall his argu ments before that enlightened and candid audience. (Hear, heai.) His works, he believed, had been very generally read at least by all inquiring and 268 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. independent minds and if so, his triumphant reasoning against the authority and claims of the Bible, must be generally familiar. Let it suffice, then, to say that he entirely coincided with the views of Mr. Subsoil, and he not only regarded the Bible as an imposition, but all branches of the Church as schools of ignorance and prejudice, and as hindrances to the true development of man. (Hear, hear.) He was a bold man, and feared no hypocrite ; he would therefore say that he had no faith in what was called Divine Eevelation, no confidence in any Church, no respect for any cler gyman. The world might know it, and make the most of it. (Great sensation.) Mr. MEEKERMAN desired to know whether he might ask the gentleman a few questions. Mr. SPONTANEOUS. As many as you like. Mr. M. Have you the Bible in your house ? Mr S. Yes, and last year s Almanac. (Laugh ter.) Mr. M. Did not your departed wife read that Book during her sickness, and experience great comfort from it ? Mr. S., (hesitating.) What does that prove ? It was the force of education. Mr. M. Did you not call upon a clergyman, THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 269 and ask him to visit your wife ? Did she not ex press great spiritual gratification in his conversa tion ? And after her breath had passed away, did you not request the clergyman to officiate at her funeral ? Mr. S., (in much confusion.) I don t see, sir, what all this proves. Mr. M. It proves, sir, that the Bible, the Church, and the Ministry, which you affect to hold so light, have rendered you a service for which j^ou have not the decency to be grateful. (Immense sensation and applause. Convention adjourns.) Wednesday evening the Convention assembled amid much excitement and some tokens of ill-na ture. Turbulent little duets passed off among the delegates, closed now and then by a profane ejacu lation and an angry shrug. Certain of the fe male members elevated their voices to an ominous pitch, and waved their fans with most laborious energy. There seemed to be an excess of heat in the vicinity of the platform. Mr. SPONTANEOUS came in with the air of a great wrestler who has just experienced a tremendous 270 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. fall. The sense of defeat was mingled with a secret irritation. Some applause greeted him as he mounted the platform, but, unhappily, the effect was spoiled by a storm of hisses. Mr. BELCHER, the President, proceeded to call the Convention to order, when Mr. MEEKERMAN appeared in the Hall. This gentleman was welcomed with salvos of applause, in which, however, the delegates upon the platform and the secondary lights were not observed to join. The President, in a voice somewhat wrathful, com- manded order : directing, at the same time, a sig nificant glance toward the object of this untimely enthusiasm, as though he privately considered him responsible for the disturbance. The noise having somewhat abated, Mr. FLUNK EY obtained the floor. He recommended that the Resolutions be laid on the table. (Groans and applause.) He had nothing to object to the Reso lutions in the abstract, but he thought the commu nity was hardly ripe for their adoption. They were too pointed they offended venerable preju dices they were adapted to terrify timid persons. He thought the Convention would stand fairer, and exert a wider influence, if it avoided putting forth such extreme opinions. THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 271 Mr. SUBSOIL was ashamed to hear such senti ments advanced from that floor. He had hoped better things of the gentleman who had just spo ken. For his own part, he was no time-server, no hypocrite ; he thanked God if there was a God for that. He was not in favor of mincing matters. If the Eesolutions expressed the sense of the Con vention, then let the Convention say so. He scorned to compromise with men s prejudices and ignorance and cant. (Hear, hear!) For what pur pose was the Convention called, he would beg to inquire ? Was it to meekly ask the world whether it would yield up its pet delusions ? Was it to entreat what the gentleman called community to forego its lies and its humbugs, and to accept truth and common sense? (Laughter.) Or was it not, rather, the object of the Convention to compel, by its own inherent force, the renunciation of old errors and tyrannical social forms, and the adoption of new truths and a better state of society. This was his view of the matter ; therefore he was for pitching into humbug with all his might, and stand ing by the Resolutions at every hazard. Mr. FLUNKEY resumed the floor with some heat. His friend (Mr. SUBSOIL) had manifested a censo rious, rash, and headstrong spirit. He would 272 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. appeal to the Convention whether that gentleman was not universally known as a wilful, perverse, arid every way impracticable individual. Mr. SUBSOIL indignantly repelled the charge. He would stake his reputation, as a man of rea sonableness and docility, on the judgment of his peers. (Sensation and cries of "Order, order!") Mr. FLUNKEY resumed. He did not wish to be severe on the foibles of the gentleman. Mr. SUBSOIL denied having any foibles. (Cries of "order, order!" Several gentlemen upon their feet. President, very red in the face, thumping the table furiously.) Mr. FLUNKEY, after repeated efforts, resumed his remarks. The gentleman certainly mistook the temper of public opinion the feeling among the masses, on the subject of religion if he supposed that those ultra Resolutions would go down. He had been revolving the matter in his mind, for the last few hours, and he w r as amazed as he thought of the enormous sums of money invested in Bibles, in this country, and of the unlimited stock that had been taken in churches. .He had seen it esti mated, as he would candidly acknowledge, that the dogs of this Union cost more than the clergy- THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 273 men ; but then the very fact that the black-coat gentry had been brought into comparison , with those useful animals, conveyed a hint that they were regarded as indispensable. (Hear, heai !) The gentleman might be assured, that where so much capital was invested, there was a large degree of public confidence in the value of the stock. (Laughter and applause.) Mr. D. I. S. SECTION acknowledged that Mr. Flunkey s view of the subject struck him with uncommon force. The argument was new to him. He did not see how that gentleman s reasoning could be rebutted. For his own part, he had observed a very decided attachment on the part of community to the Bible and the institutions of Religion, generally. It was a thing to be deplored, doubtless, but such was the fact. He, with his eminent colleagues upon the platform, might be blessed with a clearer reason and a brighter mental illumination ; but they should remember that the great mass of society are not thus beautifully developed. He might be satisfied that a volume of The Grand Flummery was worth more than all the psalms of David, the ethics of Jesus, and the the ology of Paul; but the difficulty was to make this notion take hold of community at large. The 12* 274 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. people persisted in preferring the Bible to the best of their philosophical publications especially in cases of extremity and he had observed with utter amazement, that the least developed priest was listened to with deeper attention by dying men than the most transcendent seer in all their company. Even persons who ridiculed these sacred illusions when they were strong and prosperous, were wonderfully prone to take refuge in them whenever they fell under adversity, or fancied death at their elbows. He had sometimes regarded it as an incurable hallucination. Mr. SUBSOIL was happy to declare that he was utterly unmoved by the remarks of the two gen tlemen who had last spoken. He still stood by the Resolutions. He was ready to give them his voice and his vote, in any extremity -before any amount of opposition. To show what importance he attached to the prejudices of ignorant men and superstitious women, in favor of the Bible and priestcraft, he would relate a circumstance that happened in his own family. Mr. SPONTANEOUS doubted the propriety of men tioning the circumstance, in view of the present temper of the Convention. (Cries of " silence ! hear him! Go on!") THE TANGLETOWN LETTEES. 275 Mr. SUBSOIL trusted that he was a competent judge of what it was proper to relate. He, there fore, repelled the interference of his colleague. The circumstance to which he alluded was this: About a year since, his eldest son became fatally sick. He lay upon his bed six weeks, in the face of death. The lad, though apparently rational enough before his illness, and never sophisticated by the mummeries of priestcraft, took a silly fancy while he lay stretched upon his sick bed. He wanted his mother to read to him from the Bible. This she was inclined to do, but he (Mr. Subsoil) forbade it. (Loud hisses and groans.) He was resolved to stand by his principles, and he would have his principles vindicated in his own house. The boy wanted to see the parish minister. To this, Mr. Subsoil would by no means consent. The poor lad entreated, but Mr. Subsoil was not to be moved, though it was hard, he confessed, to stand by his principles in such a case. Still, every body knew that sickness weakened the nervous system, and that the reason was apt to be clouded in such a state. He held that the wishes of a person in that condition, when manifestly unreasonable, should no more be regarded than those of a lunatic! (Loud cries of "shame! shame!") 276 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. Mr. SPONTANEOUS hoped that the gentleman now saw that his statement was untimely, and disastrous to the Resolutions. Mr. SUBSOIL saw nothing of the kind. He ex pected to be reviled for his fearless honesty it was the way with human nature but he felt more confidence than ever that the Resolutions would be sustained. (Groans and cries of "No, no, 110 ! ") Mr. FLUNKEY moved that the Resolutions be laid on the table. Seconded by Mr. D. I. S. SECTION. Mr. SUBSOIL again upon his taps. (Great hissing, and cries of "Question, question!") Mr. SPONTANEOUS ditto. (Renewed hissing, and persistent calls for "Question, question! ") Motion carried triumphantly. Resolutions de funct. Convention adjourned amid uproarious cheering. THURSDAY MORNING. At the hour appointed for the meeting of the Convention, an immense crowd had taken possession of the Hall. Beside the Seers, secondary lights, and neophytes, there was a large representation of the citizens of Tan- THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 277 gletown attracted, doubtless, by the rumor of yesterday s debates, of which we gave so elabo rate and edifying a report. When the worthy President s hammer descended upon the table, the audience became silent with expectation, and Mr. SPONTANEOUS took the Platform. The well- known author of The Grand Flummery was greeted with three hearty cheers from the secondary lights, and by protracted coughing from other quarters of the house. Two or three old fogies openly took snuff. Mr. S. proceeded to say that, thus far, the Con vention had not accomplished much. He feared it had not answered the expectations of its friends. The debates of yesterday so far from having ad vanced the objects of the Convention had in re ality subverted them. Gentlemen on that floor, while professing to defend the Kesolutions, or at least avowing their convictions of their correctness in the abstract, had, by an injudicious train of re mark, contrived to involve them in odium. (Sen sation.) So the resolutions had been lost, and the Convention, instead of advancing, had retrograded, in public opinion. He hoped that the gentlemen who might occupy the platform to-day, would be 278 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. guided by prudence, and avoid making unne cessary concessions, that tended to weaken their arguments, and bring suspicion upon the measures they were advocating. Mr. SUBSOIL felt that he had been assailed in the ungenerous remarks of the speaker who had just taken his seat. He felt that he had been made re sponsible, in the gentleman s harangue, for the loss of the Resolutions. He repelled the insinua tion. If any gentleman on that floor was re sponsible for the calamity alluded to, it was the gentleman who had last spoken. For the glaring inconsistency of which he had been convicted by a gentleman then present, (Mr. Meekerman,) had inspired the first serious expression of hostility toward the Resolutions. He marvelled, therefore, at the impertinence of his distinguished colleague, in charging upon others that for which he was him self chiefly responsible. (Laughter and cheers.) Mr. SPONTANEOUS claimed the right to defend himself. (Outrageous confusion ; shower of pea nuts and gravel from the gallery.) Mr. FLUNKEY thought that he had a right to the floor. (Cries of "Hear him! hear the dapper little scribe!") The President, beating the table and radiating THE TANGLETOWN LETTEES. 279 fiery wrath, commanded silence. He would toler ate no personal altercation among the delegates. They had assembled to discuss and settle great questions ; not to indulge in childish resentments. If the Business Committee had anything worthy the Convention, they would please present it forth with. (Dog, from the gallery, " Bow, wow, woo oo ! " Scandalous laughter and cheers.) Mrs. HARROWSCRATCH asked to entertain the Convention with some new views of Social Ethics, setting forth Nature s true philosophy of the Har monic Conjunction of the Sexes, explaining the beneficent law of Affiliation, and certain mysteries of the Psychological Experience, in their relation to Health and Happiness. (Profound attention, varied by some mischievous winking !) The President could entertain no business that did not come through the proper committee. Order was heaven s first law. (Cries of " Hear her! hear the brave reformer ! ") Mr. SUBSOIL begged to say, as Chairman of the Business Committee, that no more resolutions had been prepared, and that, for his part, he was ready to hear the fair champion of Social Keform, whose intelligence and intrepidity promised to inaugurate a new era for her sex. (Cheers.) For one, he ro~ 280 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. joiced in the lofty ambition which was beginning to actuate the women of America. (Hear, hear !) He was glad that they scorned the confinement of the domestic sphere, and aspired to mingle theii activities with all the concerns of life. (Applause.) There w r as no good reason why woman should not march side by side with man, in all his arduous undertakings. The aborigines of this country had a worthy idea of the dignity of woman. When an Indian went forth to hunt, his wife marched gal lantly with him through the snow in the very costume which is illustrated on this platform ; and when he had shot the game, she bore it bravely to the wigwam on her shoulders! (Consternation among the strong-minded.) Some of the nations of Europe, too, entertain liberal notions concerning the sphere of woman. Travelers tell us, that the husband imbued with none of the silly prejudices so prevalent in this country yokes his wife to the plow, by the side of an ox, and so permits her to participate in all his achievements ! (Unbounded laughter and applause.) Mrs. HARROWSCRATCH (very red and angry,) would ask the Moderator whether it accorded with his sense of justice and courtesy, to allow herself THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 281 and her sisterhood to be deliberately and publicly insulted? (Deep emotion.) The Moderator was surprised by the question. He had understood the gentleman s speech to be highly laudatory of that feminine ambition, which was known to characterize Mrs. H. and her worthy colleagues. How that notorious lady could feel herself insulted by so eloquent and erudite a com mentary upon her cause, was inexplicable to him. (Great applause and tumultuous laughter ; under which Mrs. Harrowscratch indignantly leaves the Hall.) Mr. TRICKELBOSOM begged the patience of the Convention for a few minutes. He was aware that he was unknown to the eminent members of that body. Yet he could assure them that he sympa thized most heartily with their desire to revolu tionize society. (Hear, hear.) He had felt the galling inconveniences of the present order of things, as severely as most of the honorable gen tlemen. He had suffered, most of his life, from the arbitrary regulations, and insensate prejudices, of this deformed condition of society. Having con tracted debts beyond his ability to pay all with the laudable intention of making himself more 282 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. agreeable in genteel circles he had been haunted like a criminal by the officers of the law. Having bound himself to one woman for life, in conformity to the usages of the day, and haying found in his heart a capacity for loving at least a dozen, he had been accused of infidelity, and his acquaintance had been openly cut in more than forty instances. (Tremendous sensation about the platform. Among the outsiders, cheers and tittering.) When he heard of this Convention Mr. Trick- elbosom resumed the light of hope was kindled in his heart. He saw some prospect of retrieving his condition. Only let society be pulled down, and something might turn up. He had made sac rifices to attend this great convocation. He had faced his washerwoman in her very den, and sub jected himself to the persecutions of nine tailors, that he might meet this unparalleled delegation. (Cheers.) When he entered the Hall, and gazed upon the sturdy legions of Reform, his bosom swelled with exultation. (Applause.) When he thought on the probable results of that meeting, he had felt like defying the world ! (Extraordinary cheering.) But, notwithstanding these sanguine hopes the Convention would pardon his plain- THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 283 ness he felt that the event had not justified its promise. He felt disappointed. The Convention had expended a great deal of shot, but it had not done execution. He feared it would all pass off in smoke. (Groans, and rapping of the President s hammer.) The Convention ought to pardon the frankness of a desperate man. Society yet stood upon its legs, in spite of all their fine talking. His personal circumstances were not a whit improved. Iron adversity, the neglect of friends, the slanders of enemies, the rapacity of creditors, the lean hor rors of destitution such was his miserable portion. For God s sake, if the gentlemen were in earnest in their undertaking, let them carry it out to a practical issue. At least, he trusted that some gentleman would advance him five dollars without delay, as an earnest of the sincerity of his trust in "the good tune coming." (Great disgust among the Seers, and resounding plaudits from various parts of the Hall. At length, amid muffled swear ing on one hand, and tragic gesticulations on the other, Mr. Trickelbosom is carried out, fainting.) 284 THE TANGLETOWX LETTERS. [We regret to state that, at this stage of the proceedings, our reporter was seized with lockjaw, in consequence of which deplorable accident, we are left in ignorance of the ultimate transactions of the Convention. We infer, however, that Society still survives this unparalleled assault.] THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 285 TANGLETOWN, AT THE LATEST ADVICES. IN WHICH THE EDITOR ARRANGES THE FINAL TABLEAUX, AND PATS HIS RESPECTS TO THE COMPANY WITH THANKS IT BEING THE MOST IMPERTINENT ACT IN THE WHOLE PER FORMANCE. ANTICIPATING the extraordinary interest sure to be created by the preceding papers, and the anxiety which curious readers must feel in the ultimate fortunes of certain persons mentioned therein, the present veracious editor resolved to visit Tangle- town in person, that he might give an authentic report of the condition of things there, down to the actual moment of putting these sheets to press. Being an idle sort of person by nature as his late employment must have indicated he took the journey without the least inconvenience, and hereby presents the results of his faithful inquiries. Mr. Timotheus Trap to whose hospitable door I speedily wended my way had heard some rumor of the publicity to which his letters had attained; and I must confess, in justice to the old gentle- 286 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. man s modesty, that he was not at all flattered by the circumstance. He, indeed, rated me soundly for having presumed to put him into the " public prints," and inquired with much trepidation, " what the people could think of being asked to read such a batch of letters." I admitted that some few readers, of very infe rior judgment, considered the letters a bore, and wondered if they were to be "spun out" to the crack of doom; but, I added, that all competent judges considered them excellent always except ing, of course, the various classes of people who were "shown up" therein. " Lord bless me, sir ! " exclaimed Mr. Trap, " your assurance has scarcely a crumb of comfort in it. Why, if my memory serves me, some of the most plausible drivelling, and most successful hum bug of the day, come in for some gentle casti- gation in those letters. I shall become the most unpopular man alive ! This paper, in which you have published my letters what sort of people does it circulate among? No spiritualists, or new school females, among the subscribers, I hope ! " "Do not be troubled about the aggressive tone of the letters/ returned I, " that is one of their best points; and if they have fallen under the eyes THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 287 of the spiritualists, and that turbulent class of females known as the strong-minded, so much the better. A considerable amount of abuse, in the present stage of the business, would amazingly accelerate the sale of the book." Mr. Trap s spectacles here fairly hopped from his nose. "The book!" he ejaculated; "do you tell me that you are actually going to put my silly letters into a BOOK?" "Even so," said I, "the thing was all settled weeks ago. There has been a tremendous strife among the booksellers, I assure you, for the pos session of the work ; but I have made up my mind to give it to one of the poorest of the tribe, that he may build up his fortune out of the profits! " Mr. Trap replacing his spectacles looked at me very sharply for an instant, as though he in wardly regarded me as the most nonsensical person he had ever met. "But Lord bless my soul!" exclaimed the old gentleman, suddenly, "if you put me into a book, the critics will have me, past redemption, will they not? And, sir, do you think I shall be able to sleep or rest, under the possibility of being minced and slashed out of all mercy, by those morose and 288 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. implacable fellows ? I seem to recollect that one of the poets died, outright, under their torture." " Compose yourself," answered I, in as soothing a tone as I could command ; " you quite exaggerate the ferocity of those gentlemen. Believe one who has experienced their clemency they are much more placable than your fears have permitted you to imagine. In the first place, there is not one probability in a hundred that they will read the book, in which case they can not with any con science condemn it, but the instinct of humanity will rather prompt them to record a favorable ver dict. But again : suppose one of the fry, here and there undaunted by the cargoes of printed paper deposited upon his table actually addresses himself to the delightful duty of reading our book, page by page ; I think it is not in human nature, that he should close the volume in a vindictive spirit especially as I have taken the trouble to insinuate a number of deprecatory notes, tending to mitigate any rising asperity in the critic, and to secure, if not entire approval, at least an amiable toleration." Mr. Trap being thus gradually pacified or at least argued into speechless perplexity I stated what was requisite to the completion of my pro- THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 289 ject, and begged that he would give me the very latest news concerning those people in whom he had interested the public. "And first of all," said I, " we want you to tell us something about Herman it has occurred to some of us simple folks that we would like to send him to Congress." "Had you arrived half an hour earlier," returned Mr. Trap, "you would have met Herman face to face. He was just here, assisting me to arrange a little festival for Aurora, in celebration of our darling s birthday. The day after to-morrow she will be twelve years old, though her peculiar ripe ness of countenance makes her appear much older. I need not say that she is the pride and delight of my childless old age. In this innocent child I see renewed, as it were, the perfect beauty of one but you know that sad history. Pardon me, you were inquiring about Herman. I am glad you and your friends feel an interest in Mm. I can assure you he is rising daily in public estimation. The ground which he occupied in politics for a long time prevented an appreciation of him, and his natural position in society was not over advanta geous; but a great revolution in politics has trans pired here in Tangletown, and Mr. Gabriel Upper- 13 290 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. ten has openly recognized our friend at the ASSOCJ ation Eooms so you perceive his fortunes are in the ascendant. There was, indeed, a proposition to elect him mayor of Tangletown, and I think the suggestion would have been executed had Herman belonged to Dr. Fiblong s church." " Now as regards your notion of sending Herman to Congress," added Mr. Trap, "I can not bring my heart to consent to it. Has not our whole political history shown that the greatest peril in which one can place his public virtue and manly honor, is to enter Congress? Why, sir, when I remember how many men have been stripped of self-respect, honor, fame, in that synagogue of temptation, in my day, I am appalled. There seems some occult, diabolical influence about the place, which few mortals can encounter without moral ruin. Much as I esteem Herman much as I confide in him I confess I would not voluntarily subject him to the ordeal. I feel how desirable it is to have at least a decent minority of honesty at the Capitol; but I shrink from thrusting so dear a friend into temptation ; and though it be every man s duty to resist the devil, I think prudence requires that we should not rashly evoke him." I forebore to argue the point especially as I THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 291 thought I detected a little latent waggery in Mr. Trap s words and proceeded to inquire what had been the result of the dissensions in the church. "Bad enough, sir," said Mr. Trap ; " the two par ties grew more and more inimical, until our excel lent pastor resigned and went away. It was very difficult to settle a successor ; for the parish could no more unite upon a new man than they had agreed upon the old one. At length it was voted almost unanimously to recall Mr. Mann. He de clined, however, reenterring our hornet s nest; and so we went on, at a deplorable rate, some months longer, and then the church was closed altogether. Finally, God brought about a change of sentiment in the community, touching certain political ques tions, and the Anti-Slavery feeling so predominated in the parish that we were able to settle an up right, independent minister." "And Dr. Fiblong does he yet flourish in Tangletown?" " He does ; but you will be edified to learn that his position is somewhat changed. He no longer defends the Fugitive Slave Bill, which is very for tunate for him, inasmuch as that merciful piece of Legislation has now scarcely an apologist in Tangle- town. The fact is, the Kansas-Nebraska enterprise 292 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. bad begun to awaken our community to a sense of the nature and purposes of slavery, when, only a few months since, an attempt was actually made to arrest a fugitive here in our midst. The slave was safely transported into Canada, and the foiled oppressor found it for his interest to depart, in the opposite direction, in quite as headlong haste. This circumstance completed the revolution of public sentiment in Tangletown ; and, as a natural consequence, powerfully influenced the convictions of Dr. Fiblong on the Slavery question in general." While Mr. Trap was thus expressing himself, two boys came dashing into the room, like a pair of wild buffaloes, with matted hair and tattered jackets, and voices not attuned to any known mel ody. In their dare-devil impetuosity, they nearly overturned Mr. Trap from his chair ; and, positively, the old gentleman blinked and grinned, as if in momentary terror of broken limbs. It required all our friend s authority to expel these juvenile barbarians; and when, at length, they had disappeared with a whoop that made the house ring, Mr. Trap sat down in evident mortification. "This is a specimen of our Peskiewitch s coming generation, I suppose," said I. THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 293 "Even so," answered Mr. Trap. "Their father is so exclusively occupied by the spirits, and by the various concerns of reform, that he has no more care of these poor lads than of the sons of the grand Khan. They are now so grown as to set their mother at defiance; and they baffle my feeble efforts to teach them decency. The conse quence is they are growing up lawless as Tartars, and bid fair to become as eminent scapegraces as Tangletown ever produced." I ventured to conjecture that these enterprising lads might be occasionally troublesome to a person of Mr. Trap s quiet habits. "Ah, that they are," said our venerable friend, with an expressive sigh; "I could relate many a prank they have played at my expense. And yet," he added, while a benevolent smile lighted up his countenance, "I believe the rollicking knaves like me a good deal after all. Would you believe it ? during my late sickness, that tallest young Arab placed fresh flowers at the head of my bed every morning ; and, when fears were expressed that I might not recover, both the little rascals bellowed like bulls!" This mention of the young Peskiewitches led me to inquire about the Rachels. They were in 294 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. comfortable circumstances, the mother being housekeeper in one of the hotels, and the daugh ter being at school, while the son was undergoing medical treatment, with a fair prospect of being restored to the use of his faculties. In spite of Mr. Trap s modesty, I detected his ample benefi cence in these happy changes. What a contrast did he present to our sordid acquaintance, Nicholas Brick! the pitiful wretch, who, as Mr. Trap ex pressed it, was owned by his tenants ; and who was found dead, only last month, with a huge purse of gold clutched to his heart! % " Poor old Nick ! " said Mr. Trap, when I had introduced the miser s name; "I went in to see him the day before he died having heard, indeed, that he was not likely to stand it long. "He was sitting in a rickety old chair, in his bleak and naked room, with his head bent painfully over an old book of accounts. It was a cold day ; there was not fire enough in the grate to render the chamber comfortable; and a racking cough, from time to time, occasioned him the keenest dis tress. " You seem in a bad state, remarked I; we old men are wearing out, Nicholas. " It s nothing nothing to be afeard of, re- THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 295 turned Nicholas, darting at me a quick, suspicious glance: I ll be out again, in a day or so I ve business that must be seen to. " Saying which, in his hollow, consumptive voice, he fell into a frightful fit of coughing. " Men at our age can t always last, Nicholas, returned I. " You don t mean that I m old so very old, that is, retorted poor old Nick; no, no! I must live some time yet I must straighten ^things out, ye see ! "Then followed another spasm of the cough. What a pathetic spectacle he was ! " My concerns are very troublesome, just now, he resumed; I ve the most rascally tenants woman died yesterday owed me three dollars no personal property to secure me ! Here s six dollars loss on credit man run away twelve years ago : ditto Jones ditto Brown total, sixty-nine eighty "So he rambled on, in his perplexed, vacant wav bending his ghastly visage over the book until the returning fury of his disease diverted his attention for an instant. "You are scarcely comfortable here, I should say ; rather cold, is n t it ? 293 I UK TAXGLETOWN LETTERS. "Cold? dear, no; housekeeper wanted to heave on more coal, but I would n t have it. Fuel costs money; ugh! it s very comfortable, you see! 7 " The poor wretch was actually freezing, at this very instant. " Nicholas, how do you suppose we rich men will contrive to employ ourselves in heaven ? " Ha? exclaimed Nicholas, who had only half apprehended my question, rich men in heaven? I hope so. Ugh ! " No sharp financiering there, I suspect, neighbor Nicholas; no trouble with tenants no terror of landlords no dread of rent-days. But, what will the business faculty do with itself there, I wonder. "The old man darted at me a half-angry, half frightened look. " Don t perplex me, Trap, said he, I m too much perplexed already ; those cursed tenants of mine ! "Then, as if suddenly paralyzed by a great thought, he lapsed into silence. His countenance worked painfully, as though his mind were labor ing to detach itself from some unwelcome idea. " Drat it, exclaimed Nicholas, as his brittle THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 297 patience snapped, L in going to see about that, by and by; one must lend lo business, ye know, just now one; must be careful, and tin ill}, while ho stays in I lie world, must nt he now? " Thus he drivelled, in the idiocy of utter world- liru ss in the atheism of avarice. He had business that must be seen to he must straighten tli in us out ! By and by he would consider something clset that hung, vague and spectral, on the outermost verge of his beggarly consciousness. "That night he died passing hence to a scene where, let us trust, all perplexities are cleared up, and all the murky nebula? of sell-interest forever dissipated. "Early next morning I went to the poor old miser s chamber. lie had died like an outcast, liis riches had beggared him of every comfort, to the last. There he lay, stark, and grim, and piti ful, embracing his idol a bag of paltry gold. "It was the only companion the corpse retained; for the housekeeper profiting by the mercenary example of her master had loaded herself with plunder, and had fled from the house, even before death had gained entire possession of the fortress. "And so old Nicholas iJrick left the world, witli- 298 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. out a human heart to mourn him, or a tongue to say, God rest his soul! Some of his ten ants came and gazed into his coffin; but tears dimmed no eye, and affection warmed no face, when the cold earth received its trust. Oh, to live and die thus is more tragical than any catas trophe painted in blood! " By this time it was quite late, and the conversa tion dwindled to monosyllables ; but there was one person more, in whose fate I knew that all our readers must feel an interest. While I was delib erating how to introduce her name, Mr. Trap anticipated me and said : "You are thinking of Amelia? I would to God that I might gratify your sympathies by giving a cheerful report of her prospects. But I shall only pain you with what I have to tell. Only last week I visited my hapless friend. In Belshazzar s mag nificent prison, I found her. Pale, wasted, passive, hopeless, she lay, dying amid the cruel wealth and mocking splendor that bought her from youth and love, and happiness. Yes, there she wastes THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. 299 under the leaden hours in the full maturity of her existence, in the morning glory of her beauty. Betrayed out of all that makes life precious, she pines for Death, as the bondman for the night that ends his task. Her inner spirit blighted and fet tered, the outward universe is disenchanted of every charm. No majesty of Nature no blossoming of flowers no aerial melodies that fill the summer twilight no echo of historic heroism, or contact with living millions, or lingering strains from the invisible harp of youth shall ever minister to her more. "When I left her, she drew me to her pillow and kissed me, as she said Were I to live again on this earth, I would fly all these trappings as from wicked enchantments, and, in the guiltless liberty that blesses the poor, seek only the Wisdom of my Father and the love of his creatures. I feel that life has a meaning which I have never found. Apparitions of some unspeakable glory dart across my bewildered path. In the ashes of my heart, where Hope faded into blackness long ago, some mysterious and prophetic tapers gleam anew, as if to show me the unknown treasure which my soul covets ! " 300 THE TANGLETOWN LETTERS. Mr. Trap s voice subsided into a whisper, as he rehearsed these solemn words. He bowed his head upon his breast ; and his were not the only tears that consecrated the memory of Amelia. NEW AND POPULAR BOOKS, PUBLISHED AXD IX PRESS BY WANZER, MKIM & CO THE SACRED PLAINS. BY J. II. HEADLEY. One elegant 12mo volume, cloth. Illustrated with seven beautiful tinted designs of the memorable Plains of the Scriptures. Price $1.25. This work is -written in a style which can not fail to commend it to the favor of the reading public. Strictly adhering to Sacred History and geographical po sitions for facts, the author ha3 woven in an amount of interesting matter and entertaining details concerning the various scenes, which can not fail to engage the earnest attention of every class of readers. Among the hundreds of complimentary notices with which the book has been received by the press in different sections of the country, we select the following from the best critics. From the New York Evening Post. The writer of this volume has found in the Bible twelve Plains, commencing with that of Shinar, which he makes the text of as many chapters which will be read not without edification by those who most enjoyed the " Sacred Mountains." From the Saturday Evening Gazette, Boston. Those who, noticing the title, think this solely such a work as will please the religious community, are vastly mistaken. The writer has a powerful use of language, and though he enters u t on his task with the true devotional spirit, he invests his theme with an interest sure to fascinate the general reader. Such redding is well calculated to lead the mind to the fountain source whence the author derives his inspiration, arid in that way subserves the causes of religion From The Courier, Lawrence, Mass. This beautiful work will meet a cordial reception from all persons of correct taste in the reading community. It is beautifully embellished. 2 HEADLEY S SACRED PLAINS. From the Boston Journal This volume is in continuation of the plan of the Rev. J. T. Headley, whose " Sacred Mountains " have been very popular. It is by another hand, and one claiming no relationship save that of name. The style is very different, and per- haps better adapted to the subject. It is simple and unpretending, but plain and forcible. The author has fulfilled his task in a very interesting manner, and the publishers have made the outside of the book as attractive to the eye as the inside is to the mind. From the Journal, Bangor. The events which transpired in these localities were among the most stirring and interesting recorded in the Bible. The book is well written, and will prove acceptable to the Christian reader. From the Boston Times. This work will probably have thousands of purchasers, and tens of thousands of readers. It relates to some of the noblest portions of the world, which are eacred alike to the man of taste and the man of piety. From the Livingston Republican. The author has faithfully executed his design, and presented to the public a book replete with interest and instruction. From the Northern Farmer, Woodstock, Vt. The author has created a series of beautiful sketches, that will be read with deep interest by all who are so fortunate as to possess the book. From the Home Journal. So far as we have been able to judge, the work may prove acceptable to the admirers of the first winner of the honors of the name, and form a worthy addi tion to these delineations of Scripture. From the Medina Tribune. To the readers of the Scriptures, and those taking an interest in the scenes and events of the Holy Land, the work cannot fail to be deeply interesting. It is written in a style of poetic prose suited to the subject, and makes some glow ing pictures of the " Sacred Plains," spreading them out in all their oriental loveliness, and investing them with a charm and interest that belong only to Scripture scenes. Altogether, the work is a valuable accession to the literature of our country. NOTICES OF THE PRESS. 3 From the Rochester Union. The writer has endeavored to familiarize his readers with those remarkable events noticed in the Scriptures, which make sacred the plains where they occur red. He has clothed his ideas with lofty and beautiful language, and treated the subject in a manner becoming its importance. The publishers have executed their task well. The book is illustrated with sev eral fine engravings, and in all respects is a beautiful specimen of typography. Its style, as well as the nature of its contents, makes this- volume peculiarly appro priate as a holiday gift From the New York Courier and Enquirer. This volume, though not by the same author as that of "The Sacred Mountains," is written on the same plan, in the same spirit, and is, we suppose, designed to be a companion to it. It treats successively of the twelve principal plains of the Holy land invested with Scriptural associations describes their geographical fea tures, and portrays the most striking events of which they have been the scene, with appropriate reflections. The author, like his predecessor, is very successful in reviving scenes with lifelike effect, and his book will very justly find extensive favor. From the Louisville Journal. It is full of deep interest, and, like all the works of its distinguished author, written in a most glowing and beautiful style. In this kind of writing, Mr. Head ley is without a living rival. From the Lockport Courier. A more beautiful and interesting work has not been issued from the press in a long time. The author has written with a pen inspired, and this fragrant offer ing this rosy bud of Sacred History will never cease to throw a sanctify ing* in fluence around every heart. We commend it to all. From the New Bedford Mercury. Whatever can increase an interest in the Holy Scriptures, and by giving more distinct impressions of localities or events, produce a more forcible moral influence, cannot be too highly commended. The large type and clear paper make it valuable to a large class of readers, and attractive to the aged. We think every one can think of some half-dozen friends for whom it would be particularly appropriate. From the Dedham Gazette. We prefer the style of the present work to that of its more pretentious prede- 4 HEADLEY S SACKED PLAINS. From the Portland (lie.) Transcript. Calculated to give the young clear and distinct ideas of Biblical localities and events From the New York Dispatch. This work will be welcomed cordially by the numerous admirers of J. T. Head- ley s "Sacred Mountains," to which it is, in fact, a natural sequence. We have read the proof sheets of the work with very great pleasure, and feel satisfied that it will be popular with that numerous class of readers who prefer books of travel or of an instructive character, to mere trifling works of fiction. Judicious readers of every class will derive both pleasure and profit from its perusal. From the Genesee Evangelist The admirers of descriptive writing will find this a pleasant book. From the Rochester Democrat. The author has done his part exceedingly well, and furnished a book of real value to the readers of the Bible. From the American Citizen, Ithaca, N. Y. To the lovers of true literature we recommend this new work. From the Buffalo Republic. The writer has really made a valuable addition to the literature of our country, and in a graceful and easy style, absorbs the interest of the reader unto the end of the volume. From the County Journal, Roxbury, Mass. It will be an interesting volume to many readers, and will give a new interest to eome of the events which are described in Scripture. From the Massapoag Journal, Canton, Mass. This beautiful work is intended as a companion to the "Sacred Mountains" by Rev. J. T. Headley. It will be found a valuable acquisition to Sabbath School Libraries, and by all lovers of Biblical literature. Extract from a letter written by Rev. G. W. HKACOCK, of Buffalo. No reader can fail under the guidance of our author, to make an interesting acquaintance with these "sacred places," each of which hath witnessed some mir acle of God some footsteps of the Eternal. Pitch your tent, then, reader, for a few successive nights, with so kindly a guide on these plains, and realize again tho vision of glory or of dread which once overshadowed them. NOTICES OF THE PRESS. 5 From the Detroit Daily Advertiser. There is sufficient merit in the work to entitle it to a place beside the " Sacred Mountains," and make it a favorite with the lover of themes associated so closely with Biblical History. It is very handsomely issued with engravings in tint, and confers additional credit upon the young and enterprising firm whose name em bellishes the title-page. Extracts from a letter written by Rev. JAMES A. MAITLAND, of Brooklyn. The author has shown judgment as well as skill. * * The diction and style of the author are singularly pure and elegant. * * * In conclusion let me say, that I think you have got an excellent book just the thing that was wanted to fill up a void in the list of books for the Holidays, Worthy a place in every well-selected library. Wisconsin Union. An excellent book, and one that deserves an extensive circulation. Genesee Democrat. The style is brilliant, and we think the book will be read with much interest. Boston Olive Branch. The perusal warrants us in saying that it is superior to the "Sacred Mountains." Angelica Reporter. Very interesting and instructive. Ann Arbor Journal. We heartily commend it to our readers. Weekly Guide, Port Hope. We have read it with unmingled pleasure and profit. American Citizen. The book is written in an able and spirited manner, and is well worth the time spent in reading it. Westfteld Republic. Written in a very lucid and eloquent style. Philadelphia Courier The author has prepared a very readable and truly instructive work. Western Literary Messenger. Extract of a letter from Rev. E. W. REYNOLDS. In my humble judgment, it sustains a favorable comparison with its popular predecessor, " The Sacred Mountains ; " and I think all the admirers of that work will consider it a privilege to procure this. From Weekly Expositor, Brantford, C. W. A work of such merit should bo found on every gentleman s table. A NEW WORK ON COTTAGE ARCHITECTURE. THE ECONOMIC COTTAGE BUILDER: OR COTTAGES FOR MEN OF SMALL MEAXS ADAPTED TO EVERY LOCALITY, WITH INSTRUCTIONS FOR CHOOSING THE MOST ECONOMICAL MATERIALS AFFORDED BY THE NEIGHBORHOOD ; TO WHICH ARK ADDED MANY VALUABLE HINTS AND USEFUL OBSERVATIONS. Illustrated with tinted Designs on stone. By Charles P. Dwyer, Architect and Civil Engineer. In one Octavo Volume, cloth, gilt, illustrated. Price $1.25. Mailed, postpaid, on receipt of the retail price. This work is intended to meet the wants of a class of people who may desire to build and own houses for their own residences, which shall not consume all their means and leave them with a structure only partly finished. The instructions are all practical, and embrace statistics for building every grade of Cottage, from the house composed of logs to the ornamental and finished residence. A large number of valuable receipts, never before made public, are added, and those who desire to build within their means will find them invaluable. The illustrations, twenty-four in number, and the ground plans are beautifully done, and the work is issued in a style commensurate with its merits. EXTRACTS FROM THE NOTICES OF THE PRESS. The Boston Evening Transcript says : We have examined this work with care, and have read a number of the chapters containing much valuable matter written in a plain but concise style. We cordially commend the book to the attention of those of small means, for whose benefit it was prepared. The Ingersoll (C. W.) Gazette says : Those of our readers who contemplate building, should first read this book, as the suggestions it contains as Jo the proper material to be used, and the manner of building, cannot be too highly rated. NOTICES OE THE PRESS. 7 The Boston Atlas says : It is adapted to every locality, contains indispensable instructions, invaluable observations, and numerous illustrations. To the builder this publication must be a work of no ordinary value. The New York Evening Mirror says : We have examined this volume with some care and with great pleasure, for we believe it is destined to do good it will do vast good, if it can be put into the hands of those who build, providing they have a particle of good sense or good taste. If the suggestions of this volume could prevail, millions of dollars would be saved annually in building, and the lace of the country would soon take on a smile of architecture. The Louisville Journal says : It is particularly adapted to such localities as exist here, and in all directions around us. It is exactly what our market has for a long time required. The New York Dispatch says : The engravings are very fine. We honestly recommend the book to those for whose use the author has written it. The Philadelphia Saturday Courier says : During the present wide-spread epidemic for rural residences which pervades all classes of our city population, even to the smallest mechanic, no more seasonable o c useful work could have been presented for popular use. Every Homestead and Building Association should be supplied with this and similar works. The People s Museum says : The book is intended for those whose means will not allow them to procure pro fessional assistance, and yet whose tastes are worthy of being gratified, even in an humble manner so that, by pointing out how simple a thing is true beauty, the man of humble means may, in his tiny cottage homestead, enjoy the satisfaction of having secured it, when his aristocratic neighbor, after a profuse expenditure, etill sighs for it in vain. The Michigan Argus says : Any man, designing to build him a home, can get mdre than the worth of hie money by purchasing this volume. 8 THE ECONOMIC COTTAGE BUILDER. The Sunday Dispatch says : The mission of this book is to teach men of small means how easily they may fashion for themselves out of the roughest materials tenements which will please the eye of every person of taste. The publicatiou is a useful one. The Wisconsin Mirror says : Any person who intends ever to build will do well to buy it. The Geneseo Republic says : A copy of this work has been on our table for some weeks, and after a close perusal of its contents, we can most heartily commend it to our readers. The Missouri Democrat says : This is an interesting scientiBc treatise on Cottage Architecture, which cannot but be of invaluable use to country and suburban residents. We commend it to general attention. The Genesee Valley Gazette sayg : We apprehend that this treatise, on subjects in which all are interested, will be regarded by its purchasers as invaluable. The Livingston Union says : This book will be a valuable aid to those engaged in house building. I The Sandusky Mirror says : This is just the book needed, and will commend itself to those for whose benefit it is designed. The St. Catharines (C. W.) Post says : This is a work which will certainly command a ready sale, and it is just the book that our citizens, who contemplate bnilding cottages and dwelling-houses, should at once procure. Tho Brantford (C. W.) Expositor says : Economy in the erection of buildings is a matter of much importance with the great body of the people. There is no work before the public as well adapted as this one to supply the wants of the great majority of the people. The Cobbleskill Journal says : This is a book which will be invaluable to all wishing to possess a house of their own on a cheap and durable plan. NOTICES OF THE PEESS. 9 The Mansfield Express says : It is a work the like of which has long been needed by the laboring classes. A great trouble with nearly all works on domestic Architecture is, that they treat only of costly villas and splendid mansions ; but the one before us comes down to the wants and means of laboring men, and deserves perusal by all. The American Citizen says: No one who is intending to build should fail to buy and read it. It will pay the cost many times over. The Rochester Union says : This is not only a beautiful book, but is a useful one, containing information of the utmost practical importance, nowhere else to be found in print. The book should be in the hands of every man who thinks of erecting a cheap dwelling, or who possesses the art of constructing a handsome cottage. HOME COOKERY A COLLECTION OF BY MRS. J. C II A T3 W I C K . One of the best and most economical works on this important branch of a lady s education ever issued. PAYSON & DTJNTON S PENMANSHIP. A most complete system of instruction, by practical teachers, with Copies at the head of every page, in style exactly resembling those set by the authors with a pen. The books belonging to this series are intended to be a compromise between the old- ushioned round hand and the more modern angular and open style of writing. It is believed that the merits of this system, its order and arrangement, the sim plicity of its plan, the interapersion of figures and dates, and the style of the copies, will commend the series at once to the approval of experienced teachers. Specimen numbers furnished gratis. 10 NOTICES OF THE PRESS. THE CONTRACTOR S BOOK Of working Drawings of Tools and Machines used in constructing Canals, Rail roads, and other works ; with Bills of Timber and Iron. Also, Tables and Data for calculating the cost of earth and other kinds of work. Beautifully illustrated with tinted Engravings. By GEORGE COLE, Civil Engineer. Folio, $8.00. EXTRACTS FROM NOTICES OF THE WORK. Albany, Dec. 11, 1854. Mr. GEORGB COLE, Buifalo My dear sir : I have received and carefully examined a copy of "The Contractor s Book of Working Drawings of Tools and Machines," and regard it as one of the most valuable practical books which has been recently published. Very truly yours, WM. J. McALPIXE. Lyons, Dec. 80, 185-4. Mr. GEORGE COLE Dear sir : I consider your book one of great usefulness to all persons engaged in the construction of Public Works and other improvements to which the machinery is adapted. I have traveled hundreds of miles, and spent hundreds of dollars, to procure very imperfect plans of some of the most simple machinery represented in your drawings, and for information that maybe got from your book in five minutes. A Contractor frequently finds it necessary to use machinery on works distant from machine shops, and without the assistance of competent mechanics, making it the cause of delay, vexation and expense, when, with the use of your book, and ordinary mechanical skill, the article required may be produced without delay or difficulty. Your book has long been needed, and I hope it will receive (as it deserves) the patronage of Contractors and Mechanics. Respectfully and truly yours, ZEBULON MOORE. Reading, Pa., Jan. 2, 1855. Mr. GEORGB COLE My dear sir : I beg to acknowledge your kind politeness in Bending me a copy of " The Contractor s Book." The execution, both in type aud drawings, is as beautiful as its information is valuable ; and I consider it the most practically useful book, on the subject em. braced, I have ever mot. Very truly yours, G. A. NICOLLS, Eng r and Sup t Philad a and Reading R. R. NOTICES OF THE PRESS. 3.1 From the Albany Argus. THE CONTRACTOR S BOOK. By GKO. COLE, Civil Engineer.* * * The design of the book is entirely unique. The author, who has been long known in this state as one of our most indefatigable and practical constructing engineers and a care ful, observing man, hag availed himself of the ample opportunity which his pro fession and employment have afforded, to determine the cost of executing all kinds of public works, and the comparative economy of the use of all the different kinds of labor-saving machines and tools, used by contractors and railroad companies where he has been engaged, or where he has had opportunities for close and care- ful observation. From the Hamilton (C. W.; Spectator. THE CONTRACTOR S BOOK. By GEORGE COLE, Civil Engineer. * * * The work cannot fail to prove useful to those for whom it was intended. It is got up in the very best style of the Lithographic art, and contains all that is desirable to instruct contractors and others engaged in the construction of Public Works. From the Albany Evening Journal. We can readily see that it would be invaluable to those for whom it is designed, as it furnishes them with the means of building on their own works machines of the most approved form, as attested by the best experience, and thus will often save every contractor who has a copy of this work more than ten times the cost of the book, besides the assurance that he will have the tool or machine which will accomplish his work in the most economical manner. Mr. Cole is an Engineer of high standing in this state, and especially as a prac tical constructing Engineer. From the American Railway Times, Boston, Mass, THE CONTRACTOR S BOOK. Compiled by GEORGB COLE, Civil Engineer. The compiler of this very beautiful as well as very valuable work, has sent us a copy for which he has our thanks. The work is got up in splendid style ; the illustra tions are in the very highest style of lithography, some of them finely colored, and the descriptive portions of the work are clear, plain and comprehensive. We trust that the work wil.l be well patronized, because it will not only prove very useful to those for whom it is designed, but it is very beautiful in itself. New York, February 5, 1855. GEORGK COLE, Esq., Buffalo Dear sir: I inclose you my check for ten dollars, in payment for your very useful and valuable work. I trust your sales have already remunerated you for the outlay ; if not, they must soon do so, when its value be comes known to the profession. Truly yours, C. B. STUART. 12 THE CONTRACTOR S BOOK. Office Cobourg and Peterboro Railway. Cobourg, C. W., Jan. 27, 1S55. GEORGE COLE, Esq., Civil Engineer Dear sir : * * * The book Is most valu able for its contents, and really beautiful in its execution. Many cases have coma under my own observation in which the possession of a book of this kind by the Contractors, would have saved them much trouble and large sums of money in the prosecution of their work. The Plans and Drawings are worthy of the " Mechanical Engineer and Draughts man," and the care and accuracy displayed in the detailed arrangement of the bills of Material and memoranda, is highly creditable to all concerned. The book is by far the best arranged and most valuable one of the kind I have ever seen, and cannot fail to be exceedingly useful both to Contractors and Engineers. Truly yours, L. SPAULDIXG. Chief Engineer C. & P. P.aihvay. IN PRESS: A NEW WORK BY PROFESSOR GRIMES. The Mysteries of Human Nature Explained, This work will treat particularly on the Nervous System : its relation to the brain, etc. : and will contain the best history and analysis of the popular spiritual belief ever written ; showing its origin, effects on the nervous system, and giving clear and distinct instructions how to make indisputable " mediums." Those who have read the proof-sheets declare that this book is destined to create a greater sensation in reference to this subject than any ever before published. The author s work on Mesmerism, published in Buffalo eighteen years ago, created, at that time, an unusual interest, and was received with great favor. That work established his reputation as an able, vigorous, and popular writer upon such topics, and called forth very flattering commendations from eminent tliterary and scientific gentlemen both in America and in Europe. THE HONTGOMERYS. A TALE DRAWN FROM REAL LIFE. IN PRESS, AND TO BE PUBLISHED NOVEMBER 20, 18M. B UFFALO: WANZER, M.9KIM & 00. 1856. Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1856, by WANZER, MCKIM & co., [n the Clerk s office of the District Court for the Northern District of New York. CHAS. E. FELTON, STEREOTYPES, BUFFALO, N. T. THE MONTGOMERYS. CHAPTER I. Hark ! The warning tone Deepens its word is Death! HEMANS. THE morning of the 24th of December, 183-, was, in Philadelphia, ushered in by wind, sleet, and gloom. All the night long had the tempest raged, unmindful of the houseless wanderer exposed to its rude blast, or of the weary watcher who shuddered at the sound of its dismal yell ; but, as a broken heart, maddened at its own anguish, it howled forth its woe, careless of how the sound might stir the listener s heart. In the beautiful home of Mr. Elwood Montgomery, ev ery thing was in keeping with this gloomy morn, which followed so wild a night. There, through the wearisome, dark hours, had lain the wife and mother, writhing in that physical agony which, but for the hope the mother s hope would be past human endurance. And oh ! the sufferings of those who loved her as such ! (as such a woman must be loved,) who can imagine them? That proud, doting husband who had so often smiled when he looked upon his strong arm, because it could shield her, his best beloved, from life s rough storms now trembled 4 THE MONTGOMERYS. but to gaze on that convulsed face and form. The half- suppressed groan which would sometimes escape those deathlike lips went, as a dagger, to the heart of those who heard it ; for they knew that naught but the keenest an guish could so far overcome her self-control. Even the kind, hopeful Dr. Graham trembled for the issue, as he saw that fragile form quivering in its helplessness, as an aspen leaf. In a room far away from the sick-chamber was Mary, the only daughter and youngest child of the household. Through these tedious hours of anxious suspense, she had kept herself within her own room ; for she had found her tearful pleadings with her father, Dr. Graham , and even the kind old Margaret herself, of no avail ; for they would none of them consent to having the young girl of sixteen take her place by the mother s bedside in such an hour as this. So, shut within her own room, she had waited at one moment, listening to the hurried tread of those who passed and repassed to and from the sick-chamber; and the next, walking hurriedly to and fro, her face almost dis torted with anxiety, and her cheek blanched to Death s pallor. It was after this dreary night and the following equally dreary day, that the poor child, worn out with watching, exhausted with anxiety, sank overpowered upon a low couch. Twilight was gathering around; but it was all one to Mary day or night, light or darkness till she could be again permitted to stand by the bedside of her beautiful, loved mother. She thought not of its being the anniversary of that eve which had ever brought to her so much joy. There was no brightening of her child-face at the remembrance of the many beautiful presents which had ever made more joyous each return of the Merry Christmas THE MONTGOMERYS. 5 time ! Her whole soul was too full of fear for any other thought to have place ; and each moment she felt the little hope which lingered there, dwindling lower and lower. Childhood is full of smiles and tears; and so of our whole lives, for when we arrive at what we are pleased to call maturer years, how often are we made to feel that we are but children of a larger growth. But who does not remember when the first dark sorrow came hovering around, each moment approaching nearer and nearer- at first dimming and then shutting out entirely that sunny sky which had never before been overcast with clouds ? And, oh! if that sorrow be that darkest, deepest if the angel Death come, and with his cold lips press the brow of her who gave us birth, who has from her own blood nourished so freely our baby forms ; upon whose bosom our heads have been pillowed with that tenderness which is unsur passed then is it indeed a bitter first sorrow! Although Mary Montgomery was so young scarcely more than a child in years yet had there, for weeks, a fearful apprehension haunted her brain ; for she knew that the trial which nature was now making upon her mother s strength was one which might well shake a strong woman ; and, as the time had approached for the consummation of their hopes or fears, she had felt as though a dark cloud was gathering around her ; and now, as it was ready to burst upon her head, she shrank with dread from meeting it for something whispered her, it would leave her heart desolate ! Thus, for an hour, had she lain half stupefied with dread. The twilight had deepened into that black darkness without, which is so true a type of the night of sorrow which some times comes to the soul, when, for a time, even the star of hope is obscured ; and within, her room was rendered still 6 THE MONTGOMEEYS. more sombre by the occasional flashes which the smoul dering bitumen sent dancing, in phantom forms, upon the walls. Just then, the door was softly opened, and the lamp from the hall sent in a line of clear light, revealing in the intruder the most elegant form of a young girl, who for a moment hesitated, that her eyes might become accustomed to the darkness, and then, with an elastic tread which the velvety carpet answered not with a sound, she hastened across the room to the couch upon which the out lines of Mary s form were visible. The poor girl started not, until a hand was laid upon her forehead most caress ingly ; then a shiver ran through her slight frame, for she needed not to look up to know whose was that gentle touch upon her brow ; and, oh ! the dread of speaking to one she loved in this hour of doubt and fear ! Helen Ashland understood all this : she well knew that the gay, willful spirit of her cousin could not yield to sor row, as could one of a more pensive, melancholy nature ; but she understood, too, how to open that stricken one s heart, to receive sympathy from those it held most dear. Pressing her lips to the poor girl s pallid cheek, she said, in a voice so full of affection : " Dearest Mary, I have been away so long a time ! I found mother in such a miserable, nervous state, and alone and desolate as she is, duty compelled me to stay till she fell asleep. Then I did not lose one moment, but leaving her in Nora s care I hastened here. Have you been alone all this long day?" "Alone ! " was the reply; " oh, so alone ! " and then start ing up and clasping her hands to her forehead, she ex claimed, " Nellie, my head is bursting with this fiery pain : this moment I must go to my mother ! Do not prevent me ! " she pleaded, as her companion put her detaining arm about her. THE MONTGOMERYS. 7 " Do not keep me longer in this fearful suspense ! Hark ! I hear her groaning ! yes, she is dying ! I know she is and I, her only daughter, not at her side ! " As she said this, she sprang wildly towards the door, and would have rushed out, had not her companion prevented her. "What is this, my poor Mary, what do you feel tell your Nellie, what do you hear ] " But the frantic girl struggled violently, and but for the superior strength of Helen Ashland would have escaped from the room. AVith the tenderness and firmness of a mother, the noble girl raised the little sufferer in her arms, and laid her back upon the couch ; then, with her soothing tones, she quieted her ravings ; and, with her cool, soft hand, she bathed the burning brow, till the fire, which seemed raging there, was quenched. From the more quiet breathing of the stricken one, Helen thought she might with safety leave her, for a moment, to procure a light ; and when she returned, she was surprised to find Mary sitting up all marks of her momentary delirium gone from her pale, sad face, and her hands busy with putting up her disarranged hair, which had fallen over her shoulders. "I am going to mother, Nellie," she said, in a sad but firm tone, as her companion approached her. " I can no longer be kept from my right my duty. They fear my weakness. They are right, I have been weak ; but I will be so no longer. I will not, as a feeble child, shrink from witnessing the agony which she must endure, when my firm ness and careful watching may comfort her may, perhaps, soothe her anguish." As she paused, Helen seated herself beside the earnest girl, and, drawing her head down, so that it should rest 8 THE MONTGOMERYS. upon her bosom, she said, " But your father, Mary, and Dr. Graham, too, have again and again refused you admittance to that room. Do you think they will yield more readily now, when they see your face so haggard and pale ? No, no, Mary, it is better " "Better ! " exclaimed Mary, passionately ; " Nellie, if you would not bring back that awful pain to my poor head if you would not drive me to distraction say not another word ! Who should stand by the suffering mother, if not her only daughter? If you or I, Nellie, lay upon a bed of sickness, think you any human power could keep mamma from her suffering child 1 No, I am sure not ! and now, whoever may oppose me, I must go to her; for something whispers me she is dying ! But she must not I cannot let her my love shall hold her from the grave!" and again her face became distorted with anguish. Helen saw that she must not oppose her cousin. There was that in her child-face that awed and astonished her. One twenty- four hours of suffering had wrought in the poor child such a change, that the beholder could scarcely believe her the same, whose merry, unrestrained laugh had made glad music in that home. The light of happiness had flown, and left that thin, sallow face, with its gray eyes, so dis proportionately large, almost frightful to look upon. With all the strength which she could call to her aid, it was feebly that she arose to go to her mother. But her cousin was at her side. " Lean upon me, Mary," said the noble girl; "lean upon me heavily, dear, so " and she half carried the trembling child with her substantial arm. Silently, and as rapidly as Mary s strength would allow, they passed through the hall ; and, before they reached the door, her step had become comparatively firm with reso lution and excitement. Helen paused to rap for admis- THE MONTGOMERYS. 9 sion; but Mary s "hush!" and her detaining hand, pre vented her. " I must go in. whether they will or not ! " she said ; but just as her hand was upon the lock, the confusion within arrested her movement, and then a moan feeble, but so full of agony that it was distinctly audible above everything else fell upon her ear. For an instant, she staggered; and, but for the upholding arm of her compan ion, she would have fallen to the floor. The perspiration came thick upon her cold brow and hands, and Helen s alarm was becoming most intense, when another sound reached the ear of the sinking girl, and passed as an electric shock through her whole frame. It was the low wail of an infant. In a moment, she was upon her feet ; and, quickly as a thought, the door was opened, and the two girls stood within the sick-chamber. 10 THE MONTGOMERYS. CHAPTER II. Lay the babe upon my bosom, let me feel its sweet, warm breath, For a strange chill o er me passes, and I know that it is death. I would gaze upon the treasure, scarcely given, ere I go, Feel its little dimpled fingers wander o er my cheek of snow. THERE they stood Mary s eyes riveted upon the bed where lay her mother; but that loved face was hid from her view by her father, who pillowed the head of his wife upon his bosom. In a moment, everything had been hushed, and Dr. Graham was bending over the sufferer, holding one of her hands in his. They were waiting for yes, that deadly silence could be caused only by the expectation of that angel which so desolates our homes ! At length, the sick woman moved her head, and, in a voice so sweetly sad, and yet so feeble, said, " Ellwood, where are you, dearest?" "Here, Alice," he answered; "you are lying in my arms. Do you not see me, darling? " " Yes, now : but I am dying, my husband. You must soon be without your Alice, who has loved you second only to her God. But I leave you our children to love, and to love you. Our children, Ellwood ! Even in this bitter hour of parting, that thought gives mo exquisite joy. For my sake, as well as for your own and theirs, be to them tender and forgiving, as would I have been, had God spared my life ." And then, as if she feared this charge THE MONTGOMERYS. 11 might contain a reproach, she added quickly, "I know you will be all that a noble man and true father can be." For a moment her head sank lower, and her eyes closed ; then, again arousing herself, she said, hastily, " Our daughter our loving Mary may I not see her once more, Ellwood ? And Nellie, too, dear as my own child ?" The two girls, who, until this moment, had not moved, gave Mr. Montgomery no time to answer ; but, gliding to the bedside, Mary laid her face down by the side of her mother s, which already wore the hue of death, and, in a voice so loaded with sorrow that it might have stirred a heart of stone, she said, " Here, mamma, is your poor child ! " Oh, the agony of a mother in such an hour as this ! Her child who has never committed a fault but the atonement of tears has been poured out upon her bosom so tender and forgiving ! There, joys and sorrows have alike found a willing ear. Now, when life real life is about to open to that timid but hopeful one to think and know that no longer can her care, so untiring, surround her child, but alone and uncomforted, she must shed those silent, bitter tears, so surely a part of woman s destiny ! At first, the struggle was almost too much for the dying woman; but at length she regained her power of speaking: "Nellie," she said, reaching her weak, trembling hand toward the fair girl, who stood gazing upon her more than mother, with a face full of the most inexpressible sadness, "come closer to me, my darling ; lay your beautiful head upon this bosom once more. How often has it lain here, child of my sister Helen ! You are not less dear to me than my own Mary. " Now, listen to me, my daughters," she continued in a firmer tone, and her face brightened with a light which seemed scarcely earthly : "I am going away from you ; 12 THE MONTGOMEEYS. life is fast gliding beyond my grasp. But you will not forget all that I have striven, though weakly perhaps, to teach you. It is with much confidence that I leave you to each other, for you have both learned, I hope, where to go for comfort. I will not charge you to be ever mindful of the comfort of your father, your uncle. Your loving hearts will prompt you to the performance of those thous and little acts which lie within woman s reach, and which are so grateful to the sorrowing, world-wearied spirit ! " But now listen, Helen," said the dying woman, laying her hand upon the bowed head of the kneeling girl ; " your home must still be beneath this roof, when I am gone. Oh ! how much must my dear one look to you for comfort. But listen, my child, while this mother s heart cries out to you for one of its cherished ones ! I leave my George my high-spirited, wayward boy to you! He was my first-born, Nellie ; and oh, how this heart clings around him ! The others are equally dear ; but they were his lips that first called me by that beautiful name, Mother! the sweetest music that ever fell upon woman s ear. And oh ! around it cluster life s brightest joys. I know what you are to him ; and when I am gone, your hand must more than ever smooth his brow when in trouble your gentle firmness must check his turbulent spirit ; and, sometimes, Nellie, talk to him of me of Heaven of God so may he be brought to look to the true Comforter in the sorrows which life must bring to such as he. " This will be to him a bitter trial ; for his heart is full of love for me. For a time he will be inconsolable; but time and your sympathy will soften and subdue his grief. You must be his earthly comforter, and your unwavering Christian influence must lead him to that fountain of all good, through which we hope for happiness beyond this THE MONTGOMEBYS. 13 world. To you, Helen, I. leave this boy my first-born, one of my heart s jewels ! " For a moment her eyes closed, and both hands rested upon that bowed head. It seemed as if she was leaving there her heart s benediction and strength. And then she resumed in a more feeble voice, "As to my other boy my gentle-spirited Orlando for him, I have no fear; he will weep, but, in his grief, he will comfort you all ! Tell him tell both my beautiful boys, their mother talked of them with her last breath that her last heart-throbs were for them, her heart s jewels ! Oh, may they be kept un tarnished from the world ! " And now, my husband, call Margaret quickly ; for I would look once upon my babes before I go ; I know my time has almost come ! " The faithful old nurse was at her side, and in those same strong arms which had fondled so tenderly the mother in her infancy, she bore the two new-born babes ! Fearfully she laid the tiny son and daughter by the dying mother s side. " Oh ! my babes can never know how great was their mother s love, that made even Death stand aside till their little lives were safe ! With this one first and last kiss upon their innocent lips, I give them to you> Mary ! Be to them a mother, as well as elder sister ! Look upon them as a dying mother s legacy a sacred trust and, my daughter, should they prove wayward as they often may should they perplex your head and heart remember that they are motherless, and blame them gently ; for to you, only, can they look for a mother s love ! Mar garet, take them away now, and be to them faithful, as you have been to their mother. May Heaven bless you and them ! " As she said this, a spasm passed over her deathlike 14. THE MONTGOMERYS. face her heart was almost torn asunder, as link by link she felt the chain severed which bound her to life. Sud denly she rallies ! not one friend could she forget, even in this hour of agony. Turning her eyes upon Dr. Graham, who still kept his place at her side, she extended toward him her hand, and, in the most plaintive tone, she said: " How can I better repay my obligation to you, kindest and best of friends, than by doubling it ! Be to rny husband iny family full of care and truth, as you have ever been. In this last trial, tongue can not tell how consoling has been your presence, how sweet your words of hope ; but now I feel that all will soon be over ! Is not my hand growing cold, Dr. Graham ? " He pressed her hand between his own, as if to warm it : but made no other reply, for the cold dampness, which was there, told him too plainly of the rapid approach of Death ! " I knew it was so," whispered the dying woman ; " do not fear to tell me, for I am growing stronger in spirit ! Hold me closer, Ellwood closer closer, dearest; for I am growing cold ! Breathe upon my cheeks, for they are icy ! My children, Ellwood, my dear husband ! oh, how % this parting wrings my heart ! Farewell ! farewell ! " There was one struggle, and all was still that stillness which weighs upon the brain as a mountain load ! Then Mary arose, and, looking once upon that face, she gave one low wail, so full of agony it could only come from a break ing heart ; and, in her despair, she threw herself wildly upon that mother s bosom, her child-arms encircling that mater nal form. Again, the dying woman s features were con vulsed with life ; again those transparent lids quivered as if about to unclose, and then a smile, so full of heavenly love and hope, settled upon that fae, and all was hushed! This life, for that pure womanly spirit, was over. Though THE MONTGOMERYS. 15 the wail of her stricken child had power for one moment to detain the mother s departing spirit, yet Death had lost all its terrors, and, with a smile which left that marble face most beautiful to look upon, the soul had gone to God who gave it. So kindly did Dr. Graham unclasp the little hands of the insensible Mary, and as tenderly as had she been his own child did he bear her in his arms to her own chamber, and with a woman s gentleness laid her upon her bed. As he threw back the heavy, brown hair, which had fallen around her as a veil, the light fell upon her still face, and one might well believe, from the tranquil pallor which rested there, that, in its anguish, the spirit had parted from its frail companion, the body. "Poor child," said Dr. Graham, musingly, as he bent over her, looking down into her sad, young face; "the unclouded joyousness of thy life is over; the fate of the motherless is before thee; happy would it be for thee, if that sensitive heart were, indeed, stilled forever ! " A tight grasp upon his arm aroused him from his reverie; and, turning quickly, he found Helen Ashland standing at his side. Her bloodless lips were parted, and her large blue eyes, now almost wild with terror, were fixed upon the face of her cousin, so still and deathlike. He took that little hand, which was grasping his arm so convulsively, between his own. " What is this, my poor child; what do you fear?" he asked hurriedly. " This is but a fainting-fit, from which she will soon recover too soon," he continued, as he saw life returning to that terrified face; "too soon for her poor breaking heart." For a moment, the revulsion of feeling was almost too much for even Helen s strength, and she 16 THE MONTGOMERYS. leaned heavily upon the arm which encircled her so like. a father s. After watching that face, till the look of frozen terror had left it, and in its place came such a look of abandoned sadness, the doctor said in such a deep, earnest voice : "Nellie, arouse yourself, my child; tis not for you to wear such a face as that. You are strong, and now, more than ever, you must be an elder sister to this little, suffering, motherless one ; for, weakly sensitive as she is, grief will not kill her! you must be more than sister, Nellie. All every thing that you have found in her mother you must now supply to the sorrowing daughter ! Yes, my child, I understand what means that look ! Your grief needs no words; but I tell you, Helen Ashland, you are strong, and you must forget your own sorrow, for the sake of the child of her who made place for you in her heart and home, when Death had made you an orphan ! Will you not show me, Nellie, how truly brave can be a girl of eighteen years how she can always remember others and never herself?" As he said this, the doctor held her two little hands in his strong, manly ones ; and his steady gaze into that changing face, into those deep, thoughtful eyes, seemed to impart strength to the half-shrinking mourner. In a moment, she seemed to have lost sight of the present, and the future of which her companion had been speaking the future, so full of work was before her ! Not until a moment after Dr. Graham had ceased speaking, did she reply ; and then, her half whispered " I will try to be all you would have me," was as nothing, to the expression of firm resolve in that beautiful, young face. But it told, too, of a strong heart wrestling with a great grief! Even the sym pathizing doctor dreamed not of the struggle that was THE MONTGOMERYS. 17 going on in that poor child s breast the second time made an orphan ! but he saw all he wished for in that noble face. " Yes, yes," said he to himself, " I am not to be disap pointed : my ward will be all her dead parents could have wished all that I have dared to hope. Such a beautiful mingling of sensibility and strength ! " Then, arousing him self from his reverie, he said : " Will you promise me one thing, Helen ? if in future this brave head or heart should be in doubt or trouble, will you not come to me for coun sel, aid, or sympathy 1 Old as I arn, lonely, and, as some may think me, half misanthrophic, I have still a heart which can feel oh, how deeply ! for the child of Helen Wilson ! And now, since there is none to claim as a right the place of protector, may I not be father to the child of her I loved more than life 1 " This last was said almost passionately ; but he went on in a calmer tone, but so full of sympathy and aifection : "Do you promise me, Nellie, to confide in me, to tell me, unreservedly, all the joys and griefs that may stir your heart, that I may laugh or weep with you ? Remember, my child, the bosom upon which you have from infancy leaned into which you have poured the secrets and sor rows of your girlhood is now cold and still forever ! Now may not I, who loved your mother as I loved my own soul, be to you, her only child guardian aye, more than that, confidant father, even ] " As Helen gazed into Dr. Graham s face, and listened to these words, as they came so freely, so unrestrainedly, from his lips, she almost forgot her grief, in her admiration for the man before her. There she saw love, so chastened by sorrow that not a shadow of earthly passion marred its beauty. The young girl read in a moment the heart s secret of that mature man. A secret the world had never * 18 THE MONTGOMERYS. dreamed of; and artless as she was, untaught in the world s tactics, she reverenced, next to God, the noble man who had remained so true to his first and only love. Unhesitatingly she gave him the promise he asked ; for could she not trust him who had been so faithful to that mother of whom she had not even a baby recollection. Silently they now both turned their attention to the in sensible Mary, into whose cheeks the tide of life was again flowing. Dreadful was her awakening from this deep in sensibility at first, like coming out of a fearful dream ; and then the truth, so dark she would gladly have shut her mind against receiving it, forced itself upon her. Who that has mourned, knows not of the despair which follows the first awakening from sleep after a great grief? Then it is that the brain is almost maddened by its anguish. It is worse than useless to attempt a description of the despairing mind ; for add black midnight to Egyptian dark ness, and it were bright sunlight, compared to the darkness of the hopeless soul, in the bitter first night of sorrow. For poor Mary there now seemed no consolation, and her companions made no attempts at comforting. She uttered no complaint ; but the low moan which occasionally escaped her lips, told more than could any lamentation, loud and long. Dr. Graham knew enough of human nature and human suffering to understand how words would but agitate more fearfully, when they brought to the suffering one s mind the assurance that now a stranger must speak comfort to the poor distracted child, instead of that angel mother, whose voice, so gentle and loving, had ever before responded to her daughter s smallest complaint. As he watched her where she lay upon her pillow, so still, her eyes closed, and her face altogether wearing that THE MONTGOMERYS. 19 expression of perfect exhaustion and despair he saw that rest alone could restore her strength enough to weep. So nervous was she that every sound, even the lightest footfall, brought a spasm of pain to that sorrow-stricken child-face ; and he judged rightly, that solitude would now be better for her than anything else. Telling Helen to prepare her cousin for retiring, he went to mix a soothing draught ; and after she had been carefully arranged in her bed by Helen s sisterly hand, he gave it her without a word, and, bidding Helen Ashland join him in the sitting- room as soon as she bad finished the arrangements in her cousin s chamber, he walked silently away. So absorbed had he become with his own thoughts, as he tramped to and fro through the dimly lighted apartment, that Helen s languid step failed to arouse him, and she stood some moments leaning against the mantlepiece ere he observed her; then, with an exclamation of surprise, he seated her tenderly in an arm-chair before the grate. " Strange .that I did not hear you, Helen, when it was of you I was thinking." She half smiled in answer, and the doctor guessed rightly, that she scarce heard his remark, or had comprehended naught of it, save the kindly tone in which it was uttered ; but he went on, after seating himself beside her : " Nellie, you will not disturb Mary again to night; there will be a time. when your sisterly sympathy will be most sweet to her, but not yet; if any one should go near her to-night, let it be old Margaret. Her motherly fondling and caresses may make the poor child weep, and so relieve her distracted brain and bursting heart. And now, my child, you must have some rest ; those cheeks have lost their roses ; and now that you are my girl, I shall take good care that you don t make yourself sick." Dr. Gra ham had arisen while speaking, and was now bending over 20 THE MONTGOMERYS. his companion ; but she, by no word, look, or movement, manifested having heard him. Her head was bowed upon her hand, and her face, half concealed by the shadow, spoke volumes of sadness. Dr Graham bent lower, and smoothed back her hair most caressingly from her beautiful forehead. Anxiously he watched the workings of that young face. " Did you hear what I said to you, Nellie? There will be much for you to do to-morrow. All will look to you for comfort and help ; and only a good night s rest can make you fit for the work." A mingled expression of sorrow and impatience passed over the young face. "How can you talk to me of rest sleep Dr. Graham ? Oh ! you know not the desolation of the twice-orphaned child ! " As she said this, she stretched her hands back, wearily, over her head, as if she would relieve an aching void. " I can not know all you suffer," said the doctor, in an earnest but unsteady voice; "but, Helen, it is because I know that you loved your aunt, because you looked upon her with all the tenderness and devotion of a daughter, and, that her memory will be sweet to you as the memory of her who gave you birth, that I ask of you to be to hers, what you alone can be ! You, Helen, know better than any one else, what this home has lost : you, who have tasted the bitterness of having a stranger fill that place from whence Death stole the household angel. From this experience you have become strong ; and now, though your heart be bursting with agony, you must not yield to it as would a weaker spirit." Poor Helen uttered a low cry, which seemed wrung from her very soul. She felt this was too much, for had this blow taken from her every one she loved, earth could not THE MONTGOMERYS. 21 have been more desolate ; and yet she could not be allowed the luxury of despair. "My poor Nellie," said Dr. Graham, passing his arm around her, " look up in my face, my child. Now tell me, will you be brave and strong, forgetting your own griefs, for the sake of those who are bound to you by the tender- est of all ties for the sake of the poor, motherless Mary ; and listen, Nellie, for the sake of George ! " The doctor spoke this in such a voice of compassionate command, that the half-despairing girl felt she must not yield to that load which seemed weighing her down ; and now she thought, " Oh, had I some one to aid me ! " Yet that earnest look of strength, which ever rested in the doctor s kind eyes, seemed to pass into the young girl s soul that moment. She could not speak to have told her companion by words all that she would strive to do, would have been quite impossible. Yet, in that womanly face, he read all he wished to know of her soul that the strong will would triumph over even this storm of sorrow. She gave her hands to him as a good-night, for a something in her throat would not let her speak. How encouraging was the warm good-night pressure those little hands received how grateful the fatherly kiss which the good doctor pressed upon her fair brow, as he led her, with all the gal lantry and gentleness of his younger days, to the door. I A father s voice could not have expressed a more deep affection than did his, in that so much needed benediction of " God strengthen you, my child." Was it that, or the earnest and humble prayer of the nearly crushed spirit which secured that peace and strength of mind which ended in a slumber sweet as an infant s? Wfco can tell? But the soul that has been stricken, and yet knows not the consolation, the strength, to be derived from prayer, knows 22 THE MONTOOMERTS. not that satisfaction which comes from the remembrance of a pray ing friend one whose supplications go up to the true fountain of all strength and love continually for the spirit submerged in sorrow such an one, oh, how must we pity the desolation ! Might not angels weep to witness the anguish and darkness of such a soul ? As Helen passed out of the door and through the hall, Dr. Graham watched her, till an angle in the passage con cealed her from view ; then he turned back into the sitting- room ; and, seating himself in the chair she had left vacant, he bowed his head upon his hand, and for a long time seemed wrapped in a troubled reflection. " Poor child, poor child! " he murmured aloud, "why do I feel such painful forebodings for thee, when I know thy strength ? That very strength troubles me and such beauty too, and thy guar dian angel gone. This is a stormy world for such an honest, upright soul ; and who can tell how many trials await thee. I almost wish that thou -wert feeble, or that I was indeed thy father, then how jealously would I shield thee from every uncongenial breath. But no, it may not be ; every supporting arm is withdrawn ; and others look to thee for that strengthening and consoling which thy own heart so much craves. Only heavenly aid is left thee." He arose, and walked up and down the room, slowly and thoughtfully ; then he stopped before the grate, and looked into the smouldering embers, as if he would there read the destiny of some loved one. " Yes, yes," he said, at length, putting his hand to his brow, as if he would remove some load which weighed heavily there, " it must be so ; this dis cipline of sorrow which commenced when she was but a child, must be. to prepare her for some work some great work. Such a mind was not created for selfish ease, nor would it be content with it ; for only the feeble in spirit THE MONTGOMERTS. 23 delight in hugging themselves. My Helen in heaven, hear me ! It shall be the one great object of my life, to watch over thy own beautiful, orphaned child; and should her feet stumble or grow weary in the rough and thorny path which is before her, oh, how tenderly will these arms bear her up !" With this resolve, the noble man prepared for his depart ure from that house, in which sorrow held now so large a place. After a visit to death s chamber, and one look in upon old Margaret, watching so tenderly her infant charge, to whom he gave a kindly word of sympathy and encouragement, he drew his warm cloak around him, and passed out from that house of mourning into the still, solemn midnight. Instead of the storm which had been raging for the last many hours, everything was hushed, and the stars shone down brightly and coldly on all beneath. Just then, the bells rang out their merry Christmas chime, and for the first time he remembered it was Christmas Eve, the time when the whole world must rejoice even they who are in deep affliction must lift their thankful, thought-stricken hearts to heaven, for the hope which is given them through the birth of a Saviour the hope of meeting their ."loved and lost," in a land where parting shall be no more. 24 THE MONTGOMEEYS. CHAPTER III. And lo! she had changed ; in a few short hours Her bouquet had become a garland of flowers, That she held in her outstretched hand, and flung This way and that, as she dancing, swung, In the fullness of grace and womanly pride, That told me she soon was to be a bride ; Yet then, when expecting her happiest day, In the same sweet voice I heard her say : " Passing away ! passing away !" WHITTIKB. HELEN Wilson and Alice Hawley were cousins by birth ; but circumstances most painful had made them foster-sisters. The latter had no remembrance of the child-mother who purchased the life of her babe with her own, which had been so short and joyous ; and of her father . she knew little more. Young, and full of animal life and hope, Charles Hawley found it a most bitter awakening from his radiant dream of happiness, when the lovely, frail flower he had treasured so fondly was snatched from his arms. But one short year had he pillowed that sunny head upon his bosom, and now, at the moment when he thought his cup of happiness was to be made doubly sweet, it was dashed from his lips and shattered into a thousand fragments. He was inconsolable at his loss ; and when at last the grave closed over his child- wife, he felt that there was but one tie which made life endu- THE MONTGtfMERYS. 25 rable the love which he bore the babe of his lost Alice. For weeks, his sole employment and only consolation was to fondle that tiny daughter, and trace in its baby face resemblance to his " loved and lost." But his passionate, untamed nature, could not long endure such inaction. Daily a morbid melancholy was growing upon him, which was undermining his health ; and it took but a word from anxious friends to decide him to seek diversion, or, at least, distraction from his griefs, in travel. With a most provident care, he arranged his pecuniary affairs, so, should any misfortune overtake him in a foreign land, the worldly wants of his daughter would be provided for amply and then, clasping the fair babe, Alice, in his arms, again and again, he laid her upon the bosom of his only sister, bidding her to be to the helpless one a sister, for his sake, and a mother, for the sake of the beautiful mother in heaven he bade farewell to his home, turning his back upon his native land, forever. Mrs. Wilson s arms encircled the motherless child as tenderly as had it been her own ; and her daughter, but a few months Alice s senior, shared with her little cousin the maternal food. Mirthfully would she crow out her joyous- ness, when the orphaned one took her place upon the mother s bosom ; and, in their cradle-bed, she seemed to assume the right of protecting, which her superior physical strength by nature gave her. It was beautiful to see her round, dimpled arm, ever em bracing the infant Alice, who, though in perfect health, had inherited much of the frailty of her young mother; and, baby as she was, she nestled most confidingly in the arms of her infant companion. Thus, for five years, they grew together with but one thing to ever mar their childish happiness. 2 26 THE MONTGOMERY?. Mr. and Mrs. Wilson expected the time would come, and, perhaps, very soon, when the little shoot, which had been engrafted into their affections, would be claimed by its pa rent; and so, constantly they had endeavored to hold it us a treasure in trust. To the little ones, they often talked of the stranger-papa, who would, some day, come for his little Alice, and take her, perhaps, faraway from them. The child s large, brown eyes, would wear such a dreamy look, when they told her of this, and she would ask so many strange questions of her far off father and dead mother, that her adoptive parents could but clasp her to their bosoms in silence. But the high spirited, passionate Helen would weep pitiously at the thought of such a sep aration, and, throwing her arms about her wondering com panion, she would tell, how closely she would hold her, that the strange man should not take her away. Then all would so soon be forgotten by the happy children, and their voices would ring out as merrily as had childhood naught but sunshine. So five years passed. Occasionally they heard from the wanderer in a foreign land heard of his restless roaming through forests, over wild mountains, and across desert sands ; and then all tidings of him ceased. Day after day, week after week, month after month, passed, and yet they waited hopefully for something further but no tidings came. Then Mr. and Mrs. Wilson began to turn their eyes sorrowfully upon the little one, whom they now feared was wholly orphaned. Day after day, they felt the little pen sive one working her way, deeper and deeper, into their hearts, which now opened freely to receive her ; and at last they felt she was as dear to them as their own frolicsome Helen. When finally NTS. Wilson was compelled to give up the last lingering hopp, how many sad hours did she THE MOXTGOMERYS. 27 spend weeping for her only dearly loved brother. Often would she picture to herself his last moments, when a stranger hand supplied his wants; and a stranger voice answered to his dying call. Or, perhaps, more desolate still, alone and in agony, unattended and uncared for, the spirit, so foil of love, parted from its frail, suffering com panion. Gradually her grief softened down into a more tender devotion for the child, in whose fair face she could every day see more and more of the lost brother and father developed. Thus, for two years they said nothing of their fears to the little one ; yet her pensive spirit caught the sadness of their tones, and whenever she asked them of her " dear papa," her voice was subdued to a whisper. The child knew not why her mirth should be hushed when she spoke of that parent, yet something had whispered her baby heart, that sadness clustered around the very thought of that loved one. Seven years had she been a member of this fond family, and for two years they had heard nothing of the wandering father. One day Mrs. Wilson called the child from her playful companion, and taking her tenderly in her arms, she told her now she should never leave them ; that Helen should be her sister, and Helen s parents should be her parents. There was no brightening of her child-face at this ; and with a sad earnestness she looked at her aunt, and asked if her "darling papa" would be there, too! and when her aunt told her so gently that he had gone to her mammajn heaven, where she would sometime see them both, if she was always good; oh, how the little orphaned one wept upon that bosom, which felt for her all that a mother s could. So silently she wept; yet the heavy sobs told how the little heart was wounded. Hour after hour did she lay 28 THE MONTGOMERYS. nestling in that tender embrace, uttering not a complaining word; and at last she was still, save an occasional sob, which would come up from her little heart w r hich had been so fearfully agitated. Little Helen heard, with a heart bound of joy, that Alice was now all their own; but her quick, sympathising eye caught the sorrowful look of her favorite, and she gave no expression to her gladness; but when she saw her grieving more deeply than she had ever grieved before, how quietly she crawled upon the sofa, and nestled at her mother s side, her little fingers caressing so tenderly the beautiful head of her cousin, till at last, with this unusual quietness, her head fell upon her mother s arm, and she sank into a most peaceful child-slumber. After this, all went on quietly and lovingly. Alice was too young for grief to crush her child-heart and, save a little more sadness in her beautiful, dreamy eyes, and per haps an increased pathos in that bird-like voice, she was the same as before. Had it been possible, Helen would have been gayer than ever ; for now there no longer hovered over her that dread fear of losing her beloved com panion and playfellow. In spirit and temperament, the two girls were entire opposites ; and while Helen s gaiety would sometimes win her reflective cousin from her beautiful dreams, Alice s pensive face and manner would soften, and often hush her half-boisterous companion. So they passed from childhood to girlhood ; from girl hood to womanhood, joyous and happy full of moral health and strength ; for the woman who had made the care of her family the business of her life, was no less a mother to the child of her adoption than to the one nature had given her. Few, few, indeed, understand the THE MONTGOMEBTS. 29 necessities of the human heart as did Mrs. Wilson, and day after day did she labor most patiently and prayerfully, to prepare her daughters for the work, which, as women, must lie before them. Thus, hand in hand, these two girls pursued their studies as well as amusements; and when, at twenty years of age, their teachers were dismissed, and society so gladly opened its ranks to receive them in, seldom had two more at tractive girls moved in the fashionable and unsurpassed circles of Philadelphia. Each seemed to heighten the attraction and beauty of the other ; for while the merry voice of Helen rang out most merrily, drawing around her crowds of admirers who delighted in listening to her well-timed and good-natured wit, the cheerful but more reflective Alice made all feel how great a gem was an intelligent, well-educated woman ; and no one listened to her unsurpassed conversation with a more proud delight than did her fun-loving cousin. Among the suitors who looked with almost devotion upon Alice Hawley was Ellwood Montgomery, a young man, and a lawyer, who was rising rapidly in his profession. He was all that one could ask fine looking, intelligent, and devoted ; besides, what to both Alice and her foster-pa rents was of first importance, and without which everything else would have been as nothing, unwavering in principle. Six months after Alice had first entered the gay whirl of society, with the full approbation of Mr. and Mrs. Wil son, she had pledged to Ellwood Montgomery her hand, and with it she felt she could give her heart her life. Oh ! what hours of happiness were those to the young, dreamy girl; for there was that, in her proud, sober lover, which made her feel that she could lean with the most unreserved confidence upon his strong arm. oU THE MOXTGOMERYS. And Helen, the proud, joyous Helen, had found she too had a heart large enough for the frank, whole-souled Henry Ashland. Her parents might have wished for their fun- loving child a husband less yielding where he loved; but he was well worthy the affections which had been be stowed upon him, and the happiness of their child, whose whole life had been one steady expansion of sunshine, forbade their opposing the union, even by a look. And now Mrs. Wilson, the true mother, had her most trying year s work before her. To feel that the two lovely girls, who had, from their earliest infancy, looked to her for counsel and sympathy, in joy and in sorrow, must so soon look to those comparatively strangers so soon others would have the keeping of their happiness so soon they, so free, so hopeful, and so confiding, might find this new path strewn thickly with thorns all these thoughts and forebodings came into her mind, and made her heart heavy with care. But it was not hers to repine, while there was still work for her to do ; but to prepare, to the best of her ability, her children for the voyage which lay before them, that, through no neglect of hers, should they make ship wreck of their happiness. Beautiful, thrice beautiful, is it to see the truly devoted mother sending back the tear unasked, which, fur a mo ment, glistened in her eye^ pressing down the heavy sob which is rising in her throat, as, with a " God bless you," she gives her daughter to the arms of him who has sworn to love, guard, and cherish her as his own soul. Never is woman more lovely, save when she pillows her first-born upon her bosom. As the time approached for yielding up their treasures, it was with trembling hope and earnest prayer that Mr. and Mrs. Wilson glanced at the unknown future of their THE MONTGOMERYS. 3L darlings; yet they would hope that, instead of losing their household jewels, they were about adding to them : for the year which the two lovers had been welcome guests at the home of their loved ones had convinced the parents that, although they were not without their faults, still were they possessed of rare virtues ; and, with their devo tion to the two fair beings they had chosen from all the world, might there not be more of joy than sorrow in that, as yet, untrodden way ? In Helen, this new life of love had made a great change. Still, she was so joyous, and her voice, so full of melody, made glad music, as she wandered through that old home of her childhood; yet there was a something of sadness in it, that brought a tear to every listener s eye, when happy smiles wreathed her lips a something which said she was going away from what she had loved so fondly there was leaving all for one, oh, how dear ! And when a warn ing voice within her asked so solemnly, " Should sorrow come and hush thy silvery laugh and dim thy radiant eye ; should sickness pale thy cheek, or care weave silvery threads amid that soft brown hair; will he, thy chosen one, still be true tothee?" her true heart of love echoed, " Still true to me ! " She had given her all so unreservedly to him, and, had he not given her his love in return, how truly beggared she must have been ! But it was all her own, and she felt it so. Alice, too, was changed. She had never looked on life as so bright a thing as had her companion how could she, orphaned as she was ? and, though her foster parents were dear to her seemed to lose her as their own child yet, in her solitary hours, her heart would heave a sigh, a tear would dim her eye, when she remembered that, in all this 32 THE MOXTGOMERYS. wide world, there was not one heart beating for her which nature had designed as a protector. But now, how different ! She could feel that, in all this world, there was none so dear to her proud and noble lover as she ; and her heart bounded with pride and joy, as she looked forward to the time when, before the world, she should give her all into the keeping of that man she so wholly trusted. Oh ! could we see woman oftener bestow such trusting love upon a man worthy of it, might we not hope for more real domestic happiness in this world of ours 1 In such a case, though sorrow may come and cast a dark shadow over life s path, still, love will lighten the way, and bind closer hearts true and trusting. THE MONTGOMERYS. 33 CHAPTER IV. Bride and bridegroom, pilgrims of life, henceforward to travel together, In this, the beginning of your journey, neglect not the favor of Heaven : Let the day of hopes fulfilled be blessed by many prayers, And at eventide, kneel ye together, that your joy be not unhallowed. Oh, Death ! what art thou ? antitype of Nature s marvels The seed, and dormant chrysalis, bursting into energy and glory Thou calm, safe anchorage for the shattered hulls of men Thou spot of gelid shade, after the hot, broad desert Thou silent waiting-hall, where Adam meeteth with his children How full of dread how full of hope, loometh inevitable Death ! Of dread, for all have sinned ; of hope, for One hath saved. GAILY passed this double wedding. It was a family affair. Xot the most fashionable, but dearest and best- loved friends were there, to sympathize in that joy which had, mingled with it, so much of sorrow, or, rather, sadness ; for those parents could not, for one moment, forget that this was the closing up of that uninterrupted confidence, which had ever existed between them and the two lovely beings which now stood before them in all the pride of most beauteous brides. T is not strange that a mother should weep, when she sees her daughter wedded to one, however noble, who must bear her from that home which has known her since first those eyes were opened upon this world ; and he who could be offended by such tears is not worthy the treasure 2* 34 THE MONTGOMERYS. which is being given to his keeping. Let him, in pride, aye, in selfishness, kiss away the answering drops from the eyes of his bride ; for only the fondly affectionate daugh ter can make a truly loving wife. Mrs. Wilson did weep, when she kissed her daughters, and would have wished them joy, but for the heavy sobs which swelled her throat ; and Helen, ever so full of joy, now clung to her mother s bosom, trembling as a frightened bird. They were Henry Ashland s hands that unclasped her clinging arms, and drew her so gently to his side ; and, as she leaned upon him so trustingly, he thought her more beautiful than he had ever before beheld her, and that night, with her kneeling at his side, he thanked heaven that they had such a mother. Alice, ever accustomed to controlling her emotions, brushed quickly away the tear which escaped from her soft brown eyes, and her newly made husband was not more proud of this manifestation of feeling than was he of such self-command in one so young. It pleased his dignity of character, and he thought, " Such is the woman I would have stand at my side would have for my companion would see at the head of my house." There was one thing that gave Mrs. Wilson great con tentment in yielding up the happiness of her two children to the keeping of those who now had a better claim to them than she. They were men who not only believed in, but professed the Christian Religion, and peacefully would she have rested that night, could she have heard the earnest but humble prayers that were offered up to heaven by each newly-wed pair. Beautiful and most interesting were the two homes where these newly-made wives entered upon the dignity of house keeping. Well were they prepared for this new position, THE MOXTGOMEBYS. 35 and each found the care of her husband s home a delight, rather than a burden. Neither of the young men had wealth, but each found himself able to place his wife in a home with all the com forts and many of the luxuries of life ; and the good pro fession of the one, as well as the fine business position of the other, promised rich success in life. At last, when all was settled, and Mr. and Mrs. Wilson were left in their dear old family mansion alone, how wea rily did the hours begin to hang! Morning, noon, and night, they missed those two dear faces from their board j and the merry young voices, which for twenty-one years had rung through their old -halls, made glad music in other homes. To leave that roof, which had sheltered them so kindly in life s happiest and saddest hours, they felt would be impossible ; yet, how could they stay there, and their light gone ? At last, Henry Ashland listened to the plead ings of his loving Helen, who could not endure to see those dear faces so sad, so expressive of loneliness, and almost, reluctantly he left that little bowery home, where, with his fair young wife, he had felt such sweet contentment, left it for one of elegance, where the hand of taste and refinement had, for many years, been busy in adorning it within and without. To his satisfaction, he very soon found that it was she he best loved, who had made all so full of sunshine, and, with the happiness he felt they were bestowing upon her parents, he could not regret the change. And now four years glided swiftly away with their light and shadow, and they left in the home of Ellwood Mont gomery two bright, laughing boys. Maternity had a thousand times heightened the beauty of Alice, who looked upon the father of her children with a deeper and holier love, than did she upon the proud and devoted bridegroom : 36 THE MONTGOMERYS. and the gaiety of our joyous Helen was subdued into a matronly cheerfulness, when she pressed an infant daughter to her bosom. What golden links were those little lives in the domes tic chain ! so pure so strong they bound a thousand times closer, loving hearts. Strange it seemed, that so long this family circle had remained unbroken; but now, unseen and unsuspected, save by one, the destroyer was making his way among them. Mrs. Wilson s life of labor was done, and gradu ally she was sinking into the grave. But so gradual was her decline, that those who loved her so fondly, watched over her so carefully, failed to see her danger, until just as that life seemed flickering in the socket. They knew she had ever been frail ; yet, how many years, with her cheek almost as pale as now, had she toiled unceasingly for others ; and now, when all were watching to make smooth her downward way, it was strange she could faint and die. Yet so it was ; and she shrank not from the approaching end : for she felt, that, with God s help, she had done faithfully her work, and, through His redeeming love, she possessed a hope which lighted her path even beyond the tomb. Beautiful as the eve of an autumnal day, was the closing up of that useful life ; and the hearts winch bled with anguish hushed their grief, that they might not dis turb the placidity of that lovely spirit in its last earthly communion. To Mrs. Ashland this was a stunning blow. Day after day she pined over it, as helplessly as an infant would pine over the loss of the breast which gave it nourishment. So sadly would she smile, when her friends most dear would strive to win her from her grief, half-forgetting their present sorrow, in their fear of an added one. But it was THE MONTGOMERYS. 37 of no avail. So cloudless had been her whole life, that now the first adverse wind chilled her loving heart, and not even the bright sun of affection could warm it into life again. Dr. Graham, who was called, hesitated long ere he could believe it possible that that beautiful woman, wife, and mother, but a day since so full of life and hope, must, indeed, die. But when he saw her fading as a fair, frail flower, over which a rude tempest had passed he told her, as gently as would a brother, the sad truth. As he held her hand in his own, and talked to her of death, a tear-drop fell upon it ; and so feelingly did she thank him for his tenderness toward her ! Oh ! she read not the secret which was treasured up so jealously in that manly heart. She dreamed not of the hopes for long years cherished, and then, in a moment, crushed, and now dead forever! Ever had she admired him, and in their home, since her marriage, as before, he had been a welcome visitor, and to her husband he was an honorable friend. The love which he had from boyhood borne, and which he still bore, the woman who had been won by another, was not of that gross and selfish kind which shines upon a pure, beautiful being, but to blast it ; but it was that noble, unselfish affection which purifies and elevates wherever it may exist, and which will shield its object from every wrong, though life itself must be the sacrifice. Alone he wept, when that joyous life he had so zealously guarded went out. To Mr. Ashland, he could speak no words of comfort; but to Mr. Wilson the widowed and childless old man, whom sorrow had shaken more than years his sympathy was most gratifying. Hour after hour, would he listen most patiently to the old man s half- 38 THE MONTGOMERYS. childish and half-manly tales of his younger days, (for now he seemed to live only in the past,) the time when the wife he now mourned was a young bride, and then he would brighten as he told of the coming of that little life, which, for twenty-five years, w r as to him as a bright ray of sun light; and then following through scene after scene, he would seem to be living over again those bright days of joy, till at last, coming suddenly upon the closing up scene, he would startle from his waking dream, and his grief would burst out anew doubly violent that it had been for one moment forgotten in the remembrance of the joys of the past! Silently almost tearlessly, did Mr. Ashland bear his bereavement ! Save when he looked upon his infant daughter the fair child, who with her mother s name, had inherited much of her beauty he sel dom wept. The loving prattle of this innocent one would sometimes move him to tears, and so relieve the agony of his overburdened heart. Young, even, as he was, life seemed to him burdensome ; and he looked with almost envy upon the old man at his side, who seemed tottering upon the very verge of life. Day after day did Mrs. Montgomery go to this house of mourning, with her gentle presence and ever-thoughtful acts, to make less desolate those dear ones, who mourned as seldom man mourns ; and then, with the infant Helen, now six months old, she divided the maternal food which belonged to her infant son. Little did Mrs. Wilson the noble, unselfish woman think, when long, long years before she was fostering the orphaned infant of her brother that she was casting bread upon the waters, which should thus return to hers. Fondly would the babe cling to the tender woman, and after putting it away again and again, each time yielding, THE MONTGOMERYS. 39 motherlike, to its baby pleadings for one more kiss one more caress she would have to leave it with its half- grieved and half-pouting face, to its doting grandfather, who, childlike as he was becoming, would forget every thing in his fondness for that grandchild. Occasionally, by Mr. Ashland s reluctant consent, Margaret, the faithful creature who had fondled Mrs. Montgomery when an in fant, and who now watched over these two wild boys with a fondness unsurpassed even by the mother occasionally, this kind old woman would take the little Helen to spend the day with the Montgomerys, when the three children would become so gay arid happy in their amusements, al ways aided by the faithful nurse, and generally watched % carefully by the doting old grandfather, who followed the little one wherever she might be taken. It was on one of these evenings, when Mr. Ashland came, as was his custom, for his little Helen, that he found the two children of his friends tumbling and rolling upon the carpet, their wild laugh ringing through the nursery, as each in his turn would come upon the top, while the old grandfather sitting in an easy-chair near, amused himself by aiding first the one and then the other in their getting up or tumbling down. And then, nestled in the arms of Mrs. Montgomery, her little face half hid upon that moth erly bosom, was his own little daughter; while seated just beside her, his arm half encircling the form of his wife, was Mr. Montgomery. Mr. Ashland saw at a glance that he had interrupted a conversation between husband and wife, and from the sad ness of their faces when they greeted him with a brotherly and sisterly kindness, he guessed that he or his was the subject of it. Little Helen raised her baby head, and crowed out her delight at seeing her father; but when he 40 THE MONTGOMERYS. readied out his arms to take her, she clasped her own lit tle dimpled ones about the neck of her aunty, and hid her sunny face upon that bosom which had pillowed her head so gently while she slept. The sadness deepened upon the father s face, as he saw the child of his lost wife turn from him and cling to the bosom of another. He seated himself in a chair which stood near, and bowed his head upon his hand. Both Mr. and Mrs. Montgomery forbore speaking, for they saw that this simple and natural act of the inoffensive babe had stirred strangely the heart of their brother how deeply, even they, with all their sympathy, could not guess. After a moment, the bereaved man again bent over his child, and passing his hand so carefully over its sunny head, he said, "Poor papa! Little Nellie, his own little daughter, does not love him will not give him one kiss ! " Young as she was, the sorrow in the tone, the sadness in the face, spoke to her little sympathizing heart, and in a moment she raised her little face to her father s, and clasped her soft arms about his neck. Oh, how much of the dead mother did he see in that act of sympathy and self- sacrifice ! Silently he pressed her to his heart, and his tears fell upon her fair head. Her little dimpled hand was laid upon that cheek now stamped by sorrow, and its gen tle pressure, so full of tenderness, spake comfort to his heart. For a long time they sat thus, when at last Mr. Montgomery said, in answer to a pleading look from his wife: "Henry, Alice and I were talking of that little sen sitive babe, when you came in, I know it may seem to you almost cruel the thought of depriving you of what may be considered your last earthly comfort ; but do you not know, brother, as much as you are away from home, she is left too much to the care of servants, who, if they THE MONTGOMEIIYS. 41 have the will have cot the ability to train her as you would have as Helen would wish her trained. They know nothing of that discipline of heart and mind which should commence in these early months of infancy, and which will be so necessary to the motherless girl." " I know all this," was Mr. Ashland s unhesitating reply; " I have thought of it most anxiously for many days : but what am I to do 1 To put her out to nurse is little better ; for women who receive motherless babes for hire, are scarcely superior, in mind or morals, to my own servants." " But if Alice would take her," said Mr. Montgomery, much relieved by his friend s calm consideration of the matter, " what would you say to that 1 Our own babe takes up much of her time ; but they are so nearly of an age, and Margaret so faithful, I think Orlando might get on, if he were to spare a half of his mother s attention to his little cousin, I did object to it at first, on account of my wife s health ; but she has overruled all my arguments which oppose her wishes, and I yield to her, without further opposition. In her care, it seems to me, Helen will be happy and content; for in her, I am sure, she will find as true a mother as do her own children." It was not in words, that Mr. Ashland thanked his friends for this unexpected kindness a kindness which none could know how to value better than did he, a tender and devoted father. Before he left, it was arranged, that the next day the little one should come to them to remain for the present. As Mr. Ashland arose to leave, Mrs. Mont gomery followed him to the door. " Henry," she said, " you must never allow a day to pass, that you do not come to us ; for you can never imagine how much even an infant may long for the love of those who are nearest to them, as kin. Her first rernem- 42 THE MONTGOMERYS. brances must be of her father ; for none, save those who have borne it, dream of the sadness of the orphan s heart. She is a child who must love ardently, and, would we see her happy, we must love her fondly : for, with all our care, there will be hours when she will feel that she is motherless." To Mr. "Wilson, this trial was even greater than to Mr. Ashland. The mind of the latter was somewhat absorbed by business, while the old man, so alone, felt it was taking from him a ray of sunlight that last one; and he brooded over it so mournfully that it gave his friends great anxiety. At last, by the continued persuasion of his adopted daughter and her husband, he came to spend the greater part of his time with them, often coming at early morning, and, for a whole day, sporting with or sympa thizing in their sports, as gaily as any of the infant ones. For a year, nothing transpired to vary the quiet and happiness of the children, and every day the little moth erless Nellie was growing dearer to every member of the Montgomery family. Then came a rumor to the ears of Mr. and Mrs. Mont gomery, that the father of the little one was about to take to his home and his heart one to fill the place of her he lovea and mourned. They would have rejoiced at such a prospect, had the woman of his choice been worthy of him, or had there been even a hope that she would make his home any thing but purgatory to him ; but they refused to believe it possible that he who had ever loved the noble-looking and noble-hearted Helen AVilson, could possibly find aught to attract him in the dark, artful Flora Darlington. But soon they found it too true, for, hard as it was, Henry Ashland would confide in the woman who had THE MONTGOMERYS. 43 been to him a sister, and to liis child a mother. When he told .her of this when he talked of another woman filling the place of the mother of little Xellie he wept as had his grief heen a new one ; but home and heart were deso late ; he was deprived of the society of his child ; and another year, passed as had been the last, he felt would be more than he could endure. Then he told Alice of her he had chosen of her gentleness, her beauty, her sympathy, and, above all, of her love for him. She, too, had suffered. She had loved, and lost the object of her love. She was a mother to a boy, whom, in her fondness, she would talk of, till all listeners loved him. Alice saw at once how worse than useless would it be to tell him all she knew. So entirely was he infatuated by the strangely fascinating woman, that any attempt to undeceive him would but make him cling to her the more closely ; and so the words died upon the anxious woman s lips. With pain, both she and her husband looked forward to the future of their friend ; for they saw how bitter must be his disappointment and self-condemnation, when he should awaken from the sleep into which he had been charmed. From her childhood, Alice had known Flora Darling ton known her, to fear and dread her. That selfish, intriguing spirit, which had overruled all good in her heart, were there any good to overrule, had made her shunned arid disliked, even when a child. But, as her dark, selfish childhood passed away, and her meagre form rounded into womanhood, her dark, thin face became strangely charming, and it seemed, from the smile that played about her small, beautiful mouth, that she was changed, too, in spirit. But this was only in seeming ; yet some believed this possible, 44 THE MONTGOMERYS. that the selfish, ill-tempered, arrogant child had become the gentle, kind woman. So believed James Darlington, who married her when she was but eighteen years of age. The failure of his father shortly after showed to the deluded his mistake ; for, day and night, the disappointed woman heaped upon her husband that bitter scorn which could alone come from such an imperious nature. The consequence was what might have been expected. Re pulsed by her he had loved, disappointed in his prospects of wealth, his feeble spirit naturally sought forgetful ness where, too often, the sons of the wealthy make shipwreck of their souls and bodies. Night after night found him in that hellish den, where man soberly and deliberately lays his plans, whereby he may doubly murder his fellow man ; and when he returned to his home oftentimes not until the stars began to wane his unsteady gait, his haggard face and bloodshot eyes, told to his loathing wife, how had passed the long, dark hours. So rapidly did he pursue this downward way, that never but once did he pause to think or look about him. Then, what did he see ? When, for the first time, he looked upon his infant son, for a moment the little good which lingered in his weak heart seemed to revive ; but all was darkness about him. When he would have pressed to his bosom the mother of his child, with a bitter smile she repulsed him, and pointed him to the " drunkard s beggared son." Never again did lie remain away from the intoxicating cup, long enough to allow mind, for one moment, to hold her sway ; but madly he went down, and, when his son was one year old, the father filled the inebriate s grave. Not many tears did the widow of twenty years of age shed over the grave of her husband the father of her THE MONTGOMERYS. 45 child. Her heart was embittered towards him, and* She felt a relief when she gazed upon him lying quietly sleeping that sleep which shall know no waking till the last trump shall sound. From the ruined fortune which she had loved and wedded, a meagre competence was settled upon the unhappy woman and her son ; and, hastily arranging everything, with her child, she left the scene of her disappointment and chagrin. Her own family had learned never to oppose her, and the family of her dead husband were only too glad to be rid of one who had been to them the cause of so much unhappiness, and whom they felt they had such strong grounds for disliking. Before the death of their poor, ruined James, they had tried every means to get the control of the little one in their own hands ; but the miser able husband and father still held within his bosom the vestige of a ruined heart that heart which had once loved, aye, worshipped the heartless being who could look upon his last agony without a tear and he would not take from her their child. It was to the home of a brother in the North that she went, and for seven long years, the circle in which she had shone so brilliantly, and from which she passed in such deep disappointment, heard not of her. Then she came among them again, more strongly beau tiful than before. It was then, at the house of a mutual friend, that Mr. Ashland met her ; and, from the moment of their introduction, her whole mind her every thought was bent upon one thing, to win him for herself ; for that beautiful home had strong attractions for her. Little had Henry Ashland learned of woman s artfulness from his ingenuous Helen. He fondly dreamed that the darkened hearth-stone was again to be made glad with light, and that his lovely daughter would find a mother in his beau- 46 THE MONTGOMERYS. tiful, dark wife, and in her son, whom he had not yet seen, as he was still with his northern friends, a play-fellow and brother. It made his heart happy, that he could make, for the son of her he loved, a home, and he was all impa tience to have him sent for, that, altogether they should enter into that home circle, where love would rekindle the light of happiness. But the reply which Mrs. Darlington received from her brother to this home summons was, she said, they could not so suddenly give up one they had come to love as their own, and a few weeks, at least, must be given them to prepare for a separation which must be so painful. Henry Ashland s heart was touched by this ; and, although he could urge no further. the immediate presence of the boy, he was more than ever anxious to have him with them. Bright, indeed, were his dreams. Alas ! that they are doomed so soon to vanish before a reality, so cold, so heartless ! THR MONTOOMKRYS. 47 CHAPTER V. If thou hast crushed a flower, The root may not be blighted; If thou hast quenched a lamp, Once more it may be lighted ! But on thy harp, or on thy lute, The string which thou hast broken, Shall never in sweet sounds again Give to thy touch a token ! HEMANS. JUST two years after the death of Helen Ashland, anoth er woman had taken her name and place. The " loved and lost " was not forgotten by Henry Ashland ; indeed, when for one moment he was out from under the influence of those glorious dark eyes of his charmer, his face would be come unspeakably sad, and before he was aware of it, he would be asking himself, " What would Nellie say ? would she be content to trust the happiness of her husband her child, with her I have chosen 1 " Then the hand of his en chanter would arouse him, and in tones so soft and almost sorrowful would she reprove him, in a moment he was again all her own. It was but the second day after Mrs. Ashland s entrance into this new home, that Mr. and Mrs. Montgomery, ac companied by the child Helen, made their first call upon her. Strange to say, it was the first time Mrs. Montgom ery had met her, who now was filling a place so near her, 48 THE MONTGOMKKYS. for many years. Yet she came to her who was to fill the place of that lost sister, with a determination to welcome her cordially among them. But the cold, haughty manner of the bride chilled the hearts of the callers, and Mr. Ash land was wounded that his friends should meet with such a reception in his home should receive such a welcome from his wife. Little Helen she received with a small show of kindness ; but the sensitive one very soon turned from this new mamma, to nestle in the loving embrace of her aunt. Mr. Ashland had made his calculations to have his child stay with him now, and when Mr. and Mrs. Montgomery arose to leave with that formality which was chilling, the child sprang from her father s arms, and clung determinedly to the dress of her aunt. The distressed look of that baby face was quite irresistible, when told that she was not to go, and her father was compelled to yield to the little one and the pleading look of his sister ; but it was with the assurance that he should come for her the following day, to bring her to his home. It was a hard trial this giving up of their baby to every member of the family ; but her father had the best right to her, and they were compelled to yield. The poor little one clung to that kindly bosom which had pillowed her head as lovingly as could her own mother s, and the father s heart misgave him as he tore her away ; for, although he would not ac knowledge it, a doubt did arise in his mind with regard to the happiness of the future of his precious one the child of his lost Helen. Two or three times he had seen a shadow pass over the face of his beautiful Flora a shadow which changed all so strangely, it made him tremble with dread. But in a moment that enticing smile would drive the cloud not only XI HOME USE CIRCULATION DEPARTMENT MAIN LIBRARY This book is due on the last date stamped below. 1 -month loans may be renewed by calling 642-3405. 6-month loans may be recharged by bringing books to Circulation Desk. Renewals and recharges may be made 4 days prior to due date. 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